Can't Go Back

Can't Go Back

Harry sat on his white couch, his head resting in the palm of his hands. He had returned home an hour previous from lunch with Hermione and Ron, walked through the front door, collapsed onto the couch and hadn't moved since.

He felt like he was crawling out of his skin. He didn't know how to handle these feelings.

It had been two months since the incident between Harry and Hermione in the cottage. And no one suspected a thing, least of all Ron. There had been no change in the behaviour from either of the pair. They had done what they had promised - they went back to being friends. But every time Harry was around Hermione, his heart fluttered. Whenever he saw her for the first time, his breath caught in his throat. He might act like he felt nothing more for Hermione than pure friendship - but it was all an illusion. Sometimes he wanted her so badly he couldn't see straight.

There was a knock at the door. Harry lifted his head in surprise as the noise broke through his reverie. Running a hand through his hair, he got up and answered the door.

Harry instantly froze. Hermione was standing on the other side of the threshold.

She looked anxious and uncertain. "Can I come in?" she asked without preamble.

"Of course," Harry replied when he finally found his voice. He stepped aside and she entered his flat. As he closed the door, he tried to force all thoughts from his mind, especially the one about this being the first time they were alone together since that night.

Harry turned and saw Hermione standing in the middle of his living room. Something was wrong - Harry could tell by the way she stood, her arms crossed over her chest, and the fact that she hadn't just taken a seat on his couch and made herself at home, like she always did. But more than anything, she didn't smile warmly at him when she first set eyes upon him. Something was very wrong.

"What's going on, Hermione?" he asked gently as he joined her.

Hermione looked up, her troubled eyes locking with Harry's. She went to speak, but instead she raised her hand and slapped Harry hard across the cheek.

Harry stood in shock, his hand automatically coming up to try and soothe his tingling cheek. He looked at Hermione, and though she didn't look ashamed of what she had just done, she did seem conflicted about something. Harry had no idea what was going on.

"What was that for?" he demanded, trying to keep the sting from his voice.

Hermione didn't reply; she merely grabbed the front of Harry's shirt, pulling him to her and kissing him passionately.

Harry was too shocked and confused to respond. At least at first. He soon responded to her demanding embrace, wrapping his arms around her waist as her hands worked their way up his chest and locked around the back of his neck.

Hermione pulled away as abruptly as she had pulled him to her. She took a few steps away, her back turned to Harry as she covered her face with her hands.

Harry felt like he had lost the capacity for rational thought. Hermione had just shown up on his doorstep, hit him, and then kissed him. It made no logical sense.

He slowly moved over to the couch and sat down, needing to sit before his legs gave way from under him. Hermione gave no indication that she even realised he had moved away from her. She was standing deathly still, seemingly in her own little world.

Harry was starting to worry. "Hermione?" he said softly.

She slowly turned to face him. Her eyes were bright and fresh tears were streaming down her cheek. She sighed, then sat beside Harry on the couch, staring at her hands, which were twisting nervously.

"I'm sorry," she finally spoke, barely above a whisper.

For what, hitting me or kissing me, Harry wondered. But not wanting to provoke her, he simply replied, "That's okay."

There was a pause and Harry knew he had to be the aggressor. "So you wanna tell me what's going on?"

Hermione looked up, meeting his eyes. Harry had never seen such naked emotion on her face and it was a little unnerving.

"Ever since ... that night ..." Hermione trailed off, clearly unsure of how to articulate what was going on inside her head.

Harry held his breath at her words - they had never once spoken of their night together.

"Ever since that night," Hermione continued on, "I have been torn between wanting to kiss you and wanting to hit you. Every day, every time I see you, it's all I can do to stop myself throwing myself at you. I'm so mad at you ... I can't even begin to tell you how mad..."

And Harry thought he was confused before. "Mad at me?"

"Yes, mad at you," she replied bitterly. "Why did you have to kiss me?" she said, a trace of melancholy lining her words.

"If I remember correctly, you were the one who kissed me."

Hermione scowled and Harry instantly regretted his levity. "Damn it, Harry!" she cried, standing from the couch. She took a few steps away from him and began pacing the living room. "Why did you have to do that to me? I was perfectly happy you know. I had a man who loved me, who I loved back, and I had you as my best friend in the whole world. And with one night, everything changed. Now, every time Ron touches me or kisses me, all I can think about is your lips on mine, your hands on my skin..."

Hermione stopped pacing and stood, looking at Harry, who was sitting in disbelief at what he had just been told.

"You know, the day we got back from our holiday, the first time Ron came and kissed me, I flinched. I flinched, Harry! God, how could we have done that? We never should have done that!"

Harry was at a lost for words. "I don't know what it is you want me to say," he replied honestly.

"Gee, I don't know," she replied sarcastically. "How about 'I'm sorry.' Or, 'You're right, Hermione, it was a mistake.'"

Hermione's eyes were boring into Harry's. He stood up slowly and moved towards her. She took a few steps away from him, but he paid no heed, he just kept moving forward until he stood in front of her, never breaking eye contact. He breathed a heavy sigh, taking her hand.

Hermione wanted to stop the increased beating of her heart. But her mind couldn't slow her heart, nor quiet the ringing in her ears.

Harry looked into her eyes and spoke words he was sure he would regret as soon as they were said. "I can't say that, Hermione. Because I'm not sorry. It wasn't a mistake, at least not to me. Whether I die tomorrow or live for a hundred years, I will never regret what happened between us."

A loud silence followed Harry's declaration. Hermione was slightly aware of Harry running his thumb over the back of her hand, but the largest portion of her brain was trying to process exactly what it was he had just said.

Hermione reclaimed her hand and went and sat down on the couch, resting her head in her hands, unconsciously mirroring Harry from earlier.

"It wasn't supposed to be like this," she murmured.

Harry went and knelt down in front of her. He gently grabbed her wrists and pried her hands away from her face, forcing her to look at him. She relented, letting him hold her hands as they sat mere inches from each other.

He asked her what she was talking about, though no words were spoken.

"I'm supposed to love Ron. I'm not supposed to fall in love with you," she whispered the last so softly Harry wondered if he misheard her.

But as another tear rolled down her cheek, he knew he had heard her correctly. And he felt like his heart might burst.

"Do you ... I mean ... is that true?" he asked, not bothering to hide the raw emotion he was sure was shining from his face.

Hermione merely reached out and caressed the cheek that she had earlier slapped. The red mark looked so strange against his pale skin. She shifted forward slightly and placed a soft kiss on his cheek, lingering slightly longer than she should have. Harry took advantage of their close proximity and did something he had wanted to do for months. He shifted his head slightly and kissed her right on the lips. Although unprepared for this action, she didn't start, but responded to the embrace, which was much gentler than their earlier kiss.

When it was over, Harry leaned his forehead against Hermione's and whispered in a disbelieving voice, "What were we thinking? We could never go back to being friends. We can't go back, not now."

"Not ever," Hermione replied sadly.

After what seemed like an eternity, Harry asked, "What are we gonna do?"

"I don't know."

"He's going to hate us, isn't he?"

"Yes," she replied, without hesitation.

After a beat passed, Hermione withdrew from Harry and in one fluid motion, stood from the couch and took a few steps away from him. Harry remained kneeling on the floor, but turned to watch her.

After wandering around the living room for a while, her mind going at a million miles an hour, she turned to Harry and simply said, "We can't do this."

A feeling of dread washed over Harry. "Do what?" he replied, getting up off the floor but remaining rooted in his spot.

"This. Us. You and me. We can't do this to him."

"Hermione-" Harry began before being cut off.

"No, Harry. We can't. He is your best friend! And whatever else he may or may not be to me, he has always been and will always be my best friend too. We can't do this to him. I refuse to hurt him like this."

"So what's the alternative? You go back to him and we go back to being friends? Because we know how well that worked out last time."

"Harry-"

"No, Hermione. We can't go back to being friends. It doesn't work like that," he replied heatedly as he stalked towards her. But when he reached her, all his anger died away as he looked at her beautiful face. She was on the verge of tears and Harry had never felt more lost.

He took a deep breath, and then said quietly, "I love you, Hermione."

With a sob, Hermione closed the gap between them, throwing her arms around him and hugging him tightly. Harry instantly returned the embrace, feeling unwanted tears tickle the corner of his eyes.

"I don't know what to do," Hermione confessed shakily.

"Me neither."

And then, without knowing who made the first move, they were kissing each other. There was so much emotion in that one kiss - love, sadness, need, guilt, desperation. The passion between them began to build as Hermione brought her hands down to Harry's shirt and began unbuttoning it. Her hands were shaking slightly, and a distant corner of her brain wondered if there would ever come a time she could undress Harry without trembling.

As Harry kissed a column down her neck, Hermione softly said, "I love you, Harry. So much."

Harry returned to her waiting mouth and kissed her. But he soon pulled back slightly, bringing his hands up and covering her hands with his; stopping her from undoing any more buttons. She looked up at him enquiringly. He looked into her eyes and then reached up and traced her cheek with his fingertips.

"I love you. But you were right. We can't hurt Ron, so we should stop now, while we still can."

Hermione nodded slightly as she focused on their joined hands. "You're right ... of course ... we should stop ..." Hermione rambled slightly.

"Hermione, there is something I have to ask you."

She looked up. "Yes?"

"Are you sure about this? Because there is no changing your mind later on. Are you sure things are over between you and Ron and this is what you want?" he asked, hoping his voice didn't betray the anxiety he was feeling over her reply.

She held his gaze, willing him to see the sincerity in her eyes. "Yes."

Harry let out a breath, and they smiled at each other. "Okay," he said, briefly kissing her lips. "Then we should go to Ron and tell him. Right now. It's not fair to him to put it off any longer."

Hermione nodded, then removed herself from Harry's arms. She took a few deep, calming breaths.

"What am I going to tell him?" she asked, more to herself than to Harry.

"I don't know."

"It's going to be bad, isn't it?"

Hermione looked to Harry, who didn't answer. They both already knew the answer to that question.

"Come on," Harry said earnestly, taking her hand. "Let's go."

Hermione allowed Harry to lead her out of the flat. They walked hand in hand back to Hermione and Ron's place, to the conversation and confession they knew would change all their lives.