Hermione stood up, walked to the wall of pictures. She looked at all of them, remembering, and Harry stayed quiet, lost in his own thoughts. They’d been through so much together, fought so many battles, overcome so many challenges. But when all was said and done, he’d left, and though part of her understood why, she had never been able to forgive him for it.
“You needed to leave it all behind, I understand that, Harry,” she whispered, her arms wrapping around her middle, not looking away from the pictures. “But how could you leave everyone - how could you leave me? I needed you.”
“You had Ron,” Harry whispered, as though that explained everything.
Her eyes filled with tears, and she shook her head. “No, I didn’t. I thought I did for about a minute, but I didn’t.”
“But… You kissed him. You chose him,” Harry insisted, as though that fact were vital.
“There was a time,” she whispered, “when I thought Ron and I were bound to end up together. We gave a relationship a try, but it never felt right. And then you left, and it hurt us both, Harry. Our already strained relationship fell apart then, and it was better that it did. I think he knew that without you, I couldn’t be happy.”
“Hermione.” She felt his breath, the whisper of it against her ear. He turned her around, lifted a hand, brushing his fingertips over her cheek. “I’m sorry I hurt you.” He leaned down, brushed his lips against her forehead, kissed her eyelids when they slipped closed, trailed his lips over her face in a series of light kisses. Finally, his lips swept over hers, lightly, testing.
“It was easy to convince myself that you and Ron would be happier without me around,” he admitted. “And as time passed and neither of you came after me, it was too easy to stay away.”
Hermione let out a choked laugh. “Oh Harry! You don’t always have to be the hero,” she said. She framed his face and kissed him, then, showing him how very much she wanted him in her life, telling him without words that she needed him. He kissed her back, so giving and generous as she’d somehow always known he would be.
“Harry,” she breathed when his lips broke away from hers, moved down her neck.
“Yes, Hermione?” he murmured against the tender skin where neck met shoulder.
“I choose you,” she whispered, pressing against him intimately.
He pulled back to look at her, grinning. “Well, then, I’d say that makes me a very lucky man.”
Harry/Hermione - Choices - Part 2/2
“You needed to leave it all behind, I understand that, Harry,” she whispered, her arms wrapping around her middle, not looking away from the pictures. “But how could you leave everyone - how could you leave me? I needed you.”
“You had Ron,” Harry whispered, as though that explained everything.
Her eyes filled with tears, and she shook her head. “No, I didn’t. I thought I did for about a minute, but I didn’t.”
“But… You kissed him. You chose him,” Harry insisted, as though that fact were vital.
“There was a time,” she whispered, “when I thought Ron and I were bound to end up together. We gave a relationship a try, but it never felt right. And then you left, and it hurt us both, Harry. Our already strained relationship fell apart then, and it was better that it did. I think he knew that without you, I couldn’t be happy.”
“Hermione.” She felt his breath, the whisper of it against her ear. He turned her around, lifted a hand, brushing his fingertips over her cheek. “I’m sorry I hurt you.” He leaned down, brushed his lips against her forehead, kissed her eyelids when they slipped closed, trailed his lips over her face in a series of light kisses. Finally, his lips swept over hers, lightly, testing.
“It was easy to convince myself that you and Ron would be happier without me around,” he admitted. “And as time passed and neither of you came after me, it was too easy to stay away.”
Hermione let out a choked laugh. “Oh Harry! You don’t always have to be the hero,” she said. She framed his face and kissed him, then, showing him how very much she wanted him in her life, telling him without words that she needed him. He kissed her back, so giving and generous as she’d somehow always known he would be.
“Harry,” she breathed when his lips broke away from hers, moved down her neck.
“Yes, Hermione?” he murmured against the tender skin where neck met shoulder.
“I choose you,” she whispered, pressing against him intimately.
He pulled back to look at her, grinning. “Well, then, I’d say that makes me a very lucky man.”