Disclaimer: Anything you recognize from the Harry Potter books and or movies is not mine.
A/N: Ahhh… I'm horrible, aren't I? I'm so very sorry, but life is hectic, and this story was stuck. I'm struggling through it until I can get a good ground again, but with my mind out and away from writing for so long, I'm kind of in the middle of a storm.
If that even makes sense. Anyways. I'm still alive and trying to write, and I haven't abandoned this yet. I hope that no one is too mad at me - I'm trying to keep up! I've even put a few stories on hold (though, I haven't updated them recently either) just so that I know I have time to focus on this story more than those others.
Thanks to all the reviews guys! You guys are the best.
Hands are Meant to Hold
By: xScenex
Chapter Six
It was like any other winter day in Hogsmeade. The crisp, morning air was clouded by the dull light that seeped through the curtain of dense clouds above that threatened to dump a weight of sleet or snow onto the small village below. The occupants were beginning to wake, and a light hustle and bustle began through the streets.
Well, that is, until a loud, piercing shriek of disbelief echoed through the air from one of the shops on the further, more dead side of town. Everyone paused in their activities, their heads swiveling to the area where the signal of distress came from. But everyone was too immersed in their own activities to actually go investigate what was happening.
But the truth was, down one street and to the next, all the way up to the dead side of town, there lie a small shop; a bookshop, to be more precise. Inside of it were two occupants no older than twenty years old.
The scream that had been heard throughout the village had indeed resided from the bookshop.
The occupants, a boy and a girl, both stared dumbfounded at one another, both in awkward states of dress.
"Wh… what happened?!" the girl, Hermione Granger, shrieked in complete distress as she held the bed sheets up over her body as she scrambled as far away on the bed from the boy as possible.
The boy, James, just stuttered. "I-I, I don't… I.."
Hermione was horrified. She couldn't recall the previous nights interactions beyond getting to the Three Broomsticks. She didn't even remember going home, let alone falling asleep with James Potter in her bed - especially without her clothes on. The mere thought sent tears of confusion into her eyes.
She wiped the underside of her eyes and gave a frustrated groan as she struggled to speak, "Did we…?"
The boy on the bed beside her looked on with wide eyes, "I… I'm not sure."
But the soreness in Hermione's body told her that her fear was true. The previous night had been much more than just a few drinks and jokes.
It had been more than a few spoken words with new friends. It had been almost exactly what lovers would do.
Tears welled up in her eyes again. "I cant believe it! I'm so stupid… Stupid, stupid, stupid!"
She wiped at her eyes again, her eyes blazing with anger and torment. "I knew that drinking that Fire Whiskey was a bad idea! I don't know why I even stooped so low to drink it!"
Her hysteria was clear, and James was smart enough to not comment that they had all drunk the alcohol and it had usually proved to be harmless for him.
"I'm sorry, Hermione. If I had known what would happen…" he trailed off, unsure of how to finish his sentence, his own voice laced with slight panic.
Hermione sniffled and buried her face in her hands as her anger crumbled and disappeared as she felt the sorrow engulf her. She didn't even want to think about what she'd done - it was too much. She had completely messed with time - no doubt, everything was all ruined. How could she ever explain her situation to the Ministry if they found out? For all she knew, they could be on their way to the bookshop at that moment to arrest her.
Oh, what would Harry and Ron say?
The mere thought of her friends sent her into an involuntary wave of tears. She couldn't believe that she'd actually… actually slept with her best friends' dad… although, circumstances were completely changed.
He wasn't a dad yet; but that wasn't the point.
She wasn't sure how long she sat in shock, but she was torn out of her misery when the bed shifted and, blushing furiously, James got up and gathered up his clothes that lay strewn across the floor. Hermione trained her eyes on a spot on the part of blanket draped over her lap. Something stirred inside of her, an emotion of sorts, that she couldn't identify.
James didn't say anything to her as he hopped into the bathroom and slipped on his clothes. Hermione could see his shadow from inside, as the door was only half closed.
She wasn't sure what to do. Her heart felt like it had been torn with the resentment of how she could betray Harry, and of how she allowed herself to do something so stupid. She choked on her own breath. She'd just committed a huge sin, and there was no way to fix what had happened. There was no way to mend the hole she had torn through time and space.
She shook her head, lips trembling slightly. It was all messed up. And with those thoughts, came something else - a little voice that told her it was alright, as long as no one found out. It was the only way to survive through the ordeal.
Seconds later, James came out of the bathroom, paler than she'd ever seen him. His eyes were nervous, darting to her, to the floor, and to his hands.
Hermione looked down again. It was hard to look him in the face - the embarrassment of what they knew had happened… it was too much. He seemed to think the same thing.
"H… Hermione?" he began, his voice cracking slightly. She tried to answer him, but all that came out was a strangled affirmative for him to continue. He nervously cleared his throat.
"I… I'm sorry about this," he told her almost inaudibly, waving his left hand around to the rumpled up sheets and to her clothes that still lay on the floor around the bed. "I really didn't think this would get out of hand."
She nodded slowly and said with a dull voice, "I didn't think so, either."
Hermione couldn't chance a look at him. Something was telling her that if she did, she might see the truth in what she was beginning to feel. Her heart was aching but she firmly told herself that it was from the guilt.
"I think… I think I need to be alone," she nearly gasped out as she tried to breathe at the same time. Hermione hadn't realized that she was close to hyperventilating.
The boy hesitated, before nodding. "I should get back to the school."
Awkward silence followed until he gave up on the quietness and stole out of the room, only his echoing footsteps lingering in his wake as he walked quickly down the staircase.
A door slammed from downstairs, and soon, all the silence pressed down on the girl who sat upstairs in the small bed.
Hermione sniffled and drew her knees up to her chest. She rested her forehead against them, hoping that everything would just disappear and it would all turn out to be just a dream. She wanted nothing more than to wake up, safe in her bed at her parent's house with an owl from Ron or Harry waiting at her window.
But when she opened her eyes, the darkness and coldness of the room proved that it was indeed reality.
Everything was just spinning out of control for her. How could she allow herself to do such a thing? What happened to her smart, collected self? Since when did so many tears fall?
Maybe it was because of Voldemort's absence. Maybe she'd been too easy on herself, and didn't keep the boundaries shut. And because of that mistake, she found herself in a screwed up position.
Shaking her head in complete resentment for her actions, she heaved a sigh. She would just have to wait to see how everything would go from there on.
The day began to pass, slowly but surely. Hermione was fidgety, and often found herself sniffling as more tears threatened to flow from her frightened and confused eyes. Time and again, she found herself trying to convince her mind that nothing had really happened and it was all just a misunderstanding from the night before.
But deep down inside, she knew better.
It was nearing closing time; the sky outside was dark with heavy clouds that threatened more snow. A skin deep chill had filled the shop, leaving Hermione to huddle up in a coat at her seat as she stared blankly at the windows.
Her mind, though, was not blank. It raced with so many possibilities of what she had just caused to change in the world.
Too many things could happen, she thought to herself. What if she completely ruined James and Lily? Harry had to be born - he had a future to fulfill. And just the thought of Harry not being born made Hermione feel utterly sick and dizzy.
She dully glanced at the clock and saw that she had a few more minutes before the shop closed. She sighed resentfully before standing up and leaving her semi-warm seat so that she could make her way up to the front of the shop to lock it up for the night.
As she passed the bookshelves, she shook her head.
"I have to find a way to fix everything," she whispered to herself, although the words sounded stronger than she felt. Maybe this was how Harry felt when Sirius died…
She shuddered. It was nothing like that. It wasn't like she'd just saw someone close to her die. She didn't have some killer after her very blood.
But she did have fate on her hands.
Hermione found herself resting her back against one of the bookshelves sides with her head tilted upwards; eyes shut in resentment. Silent tears fell down her cheeks as she thought of that mere thing.
Fate.
What was happening wasn't supposed to happen; but she'd made it take place in a very foreign time.
She pushed off of the bookshelf towards the door. Hermione felt the cold glass of the window touch her hands and opened her eyes, only to gasp in complete shock.
What she saw on the other side of the window were large, amber eyes against the near pitch black of outside. They startled her, having not known someone was there.
The girl stumbled backwards, nearly knocking over the closest bookshelf. Her breath was sharp and her heartbeat was fast.
The person outside turned the doorknob and opened the door, the light creak hardly audible against the sound of the girl's harsh breathing.
"I didn't mean to startle you," came a very familiar, smooth voice.
Hermione stared up at the young face of Remus. His hair was windswept and his cheeks flushed pink from the cold. He lent over and offered a hand to her.
"What are you doing here so late?" Hermione questioned through her quick breathing. She took his outstretched hand and was pulled gently to her feet.
The boy looked around slowly, a look in his eyes. He wasn't eager to share whatever he had to say and took his time, she noticed. But after a few moments, Remus looked at her with a slightly apologetic look.
She didn't like it.
"Hermione, I know it's late and all, but James asked me to come here to tell you something."
"Tell me something? Why couldn't he come and tell me?" Hermione questioned. She could feel a small stab etch itself into her heart. Did he really think it more important to send a friend to tell her something after all that had just happened?
"I don't think he would have been able to tell you," the boy said truthfully. "He was in a right state when he came back to the castle this morning."
Hermione noted that his voice was slightly accusing. "What are you saying? That I caused something?"
He shook his head quickly and got to the point, "All I'm saying is that James is sorry for anything he's done to you. He didn't mean for everything to happen the way it did, and he thinks that it will be better if the two of you didn't… see each other again."
She was taken aback by how blunt he was - in a gentle, yet completely in command way. "He doesn't want to see me again?"
Her voice sounded hollow, even to herself.
Remus fidgeted. "I don't think he meant to offend you. He thinks that it's better that he didn't get involved in someone until after he graduates from school."
"I see," was all she could say.
He didn't want her - that was good, she told herself. However, at the same time, she felt as if someone had just ripped her skin off, leaving her naked to the world as nothing more than a thing.
Nevertheless, it was better that way. He would find himself involved with Lily near the end of school, and they would get married. Harry would be born.
At the thought, Hermione smiled slightly against the pain of rejection.
"I'm glad he's set his mind to more important things," she said, finding her voice stronger than before. It was different when she looked at the positive things, she realized.
The werewolf breathed a sigh of relief before he gave her a small smile of his own. "I'm glad you understand - he'll be glad as well. I guess I'll be going."
Hermione nodded slowly. She didn't want him getting into any trouble.
"Take care of yourself," were his only words before he left quickly, his cloak disappearing behind the door as it swung shut after him.
Hermione locked the door soon after and pulled the stings to let the blinds fall over the windows, blocking out the empty space.
The girl sighed heavily and once against closed her eyes. Her heart ached in a way that she'd never felt before. Was it the feeling of rejection? Or was it just the feeling from such a hard day?
"No," she whispered aloud. "It's heartbreak."
She knew then, that her silly thoughts hadn't just been imagined. She had fallen for James Potter; hard.
And she needed a way out.
Pulling out her wand in a determined way, she headed upstairs to do the only thing she knew how to do - pack. She had quickly decided that she would leave him behind before something more drastic happened.
It wasn't just a simple game of hide and seek with fate anymore. It was now a game of cat and mouse with someone who belonged to another. She wasn't about to risk it all.
A/N: You know… I just realized that I've been a member here for a little over a year. Weird, how time seems to just go right over your head. Awh well.
You can flame me if you want, 'cause this isn't the best of chapters. I know it isn't, so yeah. I just needed to find a start on this and get an update out before someone murders me.
;; Min