Wishing Only Wounds the Heart

Wishing Only Wounds the Heart

Hermione can't stop fidgeting. Remus casts her the occasional sideways glance, but remains silent.

They are going home tomorrow. After six months away from home, trailing and surveilling one nasty Death Eater, their assignment is over and they are returning to their friends and families. Remus is returning to Tonks and Hermione is returning to Ron.

Too bad they had fallen in love with each other.

It is never acknowledged, never spoken of. But it is there. It's there every time their eyes meet and they look at each other much longer than necessary. It's there every time their fingers touch and electricity flows between them. Remus feels it in the sudden silences that occur and Hermione feels it with a humming in her veins every time he looks at her.

Neither of them could pinpoint how or even when it happened. But at some point between leaving home and missing Ron and Tonks and the near death experiences and the tea and the chocolate and the long conversations and the late nights, they had fallen for each other.

Their last night away should be a happy occasion. They should be excited about returning home to their loved ones. Instead they sit in the too small room, melancholy so thick in the air it threatens to overwhelm them.

Hermione wants to confess. She wants him to confess. She wants things to change between them, even if it's only for one night. She is so filled with want and desire she can't sit still, hands making frenetic movements for no good reason.

But she is also terrified of what happens after she says the words. After all, he hasn't said anything. Maybe there is good reason to remain silent. That way they can pretend it never happened. They can go home and smile and be happy and pretend they never fell in love. Words would only lend weight to a feeling that shouldn't even exist. And what good can come from that?

But she has to tell him. She knows she can't go back home without telling him. Without him telling her.

"Remus."

"Yes, Hermione," he replies, looking up from his book.

Their eyes meet and for a moment Hermione loses all thought, lost in his stare, which, as has become their habit, lingers for longer than necessary. But then he turns back to his book and she remembers.

"We have to talk about this."

He doesn't ask for clarification, nor does he look up from his book. "Why?"

"Because," Hermione replies, indignant. "Because I -"

He still isn't looking at her so she scoots closer to him on the couch and puts a hand to his cheek, forcing him to look at her. "I love you."

She drops her hand from his cheek, taking in a deep breath. There. She had said it. It was finally out there. Remus just stared at her for the longest moment and Hermione was sure she saw a myriad of emotions flicker in his eyes.

At length, Remus replies with a simple, "Okay."

Hermione recoils back from him, as though physically struck. "Okay? Is that all you have to say?" she demands, trying to keep her hurt and anger at bay.

Remus places the book on the side table before returning back to her. "What would you have me say, Hermione?" he asks, his tone light.

"Um ... I don't know," she replies, her voice dripping with sarcasm. "How about that you love me too!"

The silence that follows in deafening. They just sit there, looking at each other. Hermione slowly and surreptitiously reaches out to him but as soon as her fingers touch his, he stands from the couch and begins to walk away.

Hermione isn't letting this pass. She too stands and grabs his hand, tugging on it and forcing him to face her. He turns in an instant, grabs her face and pulls her to him, kissing her desperately.

Hermione is so shocked it takes a moment for her to respond. But then she does, wrapping her arms around his neck and deepening the kiss.

It was nothing like she ever imagined. His lips are firm against hers, and she feels more in that one kiss than she ever felt with Ron or Viktor.

Finally, their kiss ends. Remus presses his forehead against Hermione's, keeping his hands on her face. His thumb lightly traces the arch of her cheek as he says, his voice thick with emotion, "What good would it do to tell you that I am so in love with you that sometimes I can't see straight."

Remus steps back from Hermione, dropping his hands from her face. Her cheeks are flushed and her eyes bright and it takes all the will he has to keep talking. "I could tell you I love you in a thousand ways, but it wouldn't change a thing. There is nothing we can do about it. We are going home tomorrow. Tonks and I are getting married and you are going back to Ron. We have other lives we need to return to."

Hermione is speechless. She just stands there, gaping at him. She thought she would feel better once the truth was out there, that it would make everything okay. But she never expected this.

"How ..." her voice falters and she hates how weak she is feeling. "How are we supposed to go back there and just pretend this didn't happen?"

"This may just be all in our heads, Hermione. It's just the circumstances that made us feel this way. If it weren't for us being away from home so long, alone and away from everyone we love, we would never feel this way towards each other."

Hermione wants to scream at him for being so calm and rational and stoic. How can he just stand there and sprout these lies when she feels like she is crawling out of her skin?

"You don't believe that," Hermione accuses, seeing the lie in his eyes.

He looks at her and finally Hermione can see his mask falling and the truth shining through. "I have to, Hermione," he replies, his voice cracking. "Otherwise, how else can I go back?"

"We don't have to go back," she replies urgently, stepping forward and invading his personal space. She puts her hands to his chest, feeling his heart beat beneath her palm. "We could run away. We could be together," she pleads, her eyes boring into his.

Remus covers her hands with his own as he leans forward and presses his lips to her forehead. Hermione closes her eyes, never wanting this feeling to end, never wanting to be parted from him.

"We can't do that," he eventually replies, his lips brushing against her hairline. "I love Tonks. And you can't say you don't still love Ron."

Hermione inclines her head to look at him. "I do still love him. But not the same way I love you."

She steps up on her toes and presses her lips to his. He returns the kiss, but stops her from deepening it.

Hermione looks up at him. He returns her stare, willing her to see the truth. They may love each other, but they could never work. In time they will come to think of these months as a lovely dream that they simply woke up from.

Hermione nods and he knows she understands. He gives her a shaky smile, which she tries to return before it turns into a sob. He instantly wraps his arms around her and she hangs on to him for dear life. He runs his hands through her hair, repeatedly whispering her name.

Finally, they release each other. Hermione still has tears running down her cheeks, and Remus gently wipes them away with the pad of his thumb.

"I wish-" Hermione begins before being cut off by Remus.

"Don't," he says. "Don't wish. Wishing only wounds the heart, and I fear we will have enough heartache without adding more. It does no good to wish for what cannot be."

"I know," she says, her voice torn with sadness. "But if it's all the same to you, I'll keep wishing."

Remus can't help but smile at that. "Me too," he whispers.

Hermione looks up at him, grinning slightly. Taking a deep breath, Hermione steps back from Remus, wiping at her cheeks.

"So, what happens now?" she asks in a shaky voice.

"Nothing. We go to bed, go to sleep and then in the morning we pack up and go home."

Hermione nods. She's suddenly exhausted but still desperate to not let even a tiny piece of this moment go.

Remus gives her a small smile before turning and retreating to his room. He has only taken three steps when Hermione calls out to him. He takes a deep breath before turning and facing her.

"Would you..." her voice trails off, her courage leaving her.

"Yes, Hermione?"

"Would you stay with me tonight?" she replies quietly, her voice tinged with hope.

It takes some time for Remus to respond. He fights an internal battle, torn between doing what was right and doing something he wanted to do more than anything.

"I'm not sure that's a good idea," he eventually replies.

"Please, Remus," she says, taking a small step towards him. "Nothing will happen. I'd just like to sleep in your arms for one night, so I know what it feels like."

Remus could never refuse her this, in part because he is desperate for the same feeling. "Okay," he says.

She gives him a small smile. "Give me five minutes," she says, walking past him and going into her room. She closes the door, letting out a shaky breath as she leans against it.

Hermione changes into her pyjamas, brushes her teeth and washes her face before sitting on her bed, her crossed legs covered by the blanket. She doesn't have to wait long to hear the soft knock in the door.

"Come in," she calls, and Remus pokes his head around the door before coming into the room and closing the door behind him.

What surprises Hermione the most is that he has no hesitation or awkwardness. He just walks straight in and gets into the bed beside her. He lies down, getting comfortable under the blankets. Hermione watches this with slight amusement. He finally settles and opens an arm for her.

Hermione turns to the bedside table and turns off the light. She sinks into the bed, going into his arms, her head resting on his chest, her hand over her heart. She inclines her head and she can see in the minimal light of the room that he is already looking at her. They simultaneously inch forward and share one sweet, last kiss.