Crossroads-
(On mobile, so the formatting is off)
He knew his name, he knew where he worked, and he knew where he lived. Yet, he was still lost.
Sometimes he would swear he saw things others didn’t.
Sometimes, when he was sweeping the aisles of the Market he worked at, he thought: This isn’t what a broom is for.
Sometimes, he made things happen.
“I don’t know what he was doing there Hermione! I just got the call to come pick him up.” Harry’s floating green head explained.
“Why are you calling me about it?”
“Because. Well, I think you need to see him.”
“Why would I need to see him?”
“He’s….. He’s not the same. Something is…. Something is wrong.”
Yet still, she stuck around. Taught him things.
“Where do you work?” She asked him grudgingly, stirring her coffee without actually touching the spoon. Antonin tried not to gape.
“A, um, the Market on 6th.”
She looked up at him through her lashes. “A muggle Market?”
“Muggle?” Antonin wondered out loud. He knew that word…. “Right. That’s what you call people who aren’t like you. The ones who don’t have magic.”
She sighed into her coffee. “People who aren’t like us.”
“It’s his memory. It’s gone. Well, not gone exactly. But, everything he knew about magic, it seems to be missing.”
“Tell me again, why is that my problem?” Hermione crossed her arms.
“I had Draco look into his memories. Try to find the what went wrong.” Harry hesitated. “Remember when we were on the run? It was right after the wedding. Antonin was one of the Death Eaters that found us at that cafe…” Harry trailed off.
Hermione uncrossed her arms. “This is my fault.”
She still didn’t like him.
But that wasn’t the problem.
The problem was that he liked her.
Antonin knew he probably shouldn’t like her, shouldn’t want her. Knew that in muggle world, something like this wouldn’t be accepted, but all of that faded away when she was near.
“You met with him?” Harry asked when Hermione turned up on his doorstep late one night.
“He… Harry…” Hermione looked up at him, her expressive eyes pleading with him.
Harry pulled her into his arms, “It was an accident. I know you only meant to take away the memory of us that night.”
Hermione shuddered, “Was it though, Harry? Was it an accident?”
Harry didn’t answer, just rubbed her back and made soothing noises as she stared blankly at the wall.
He showed up at her door, a bouquet of flowers in hand. “These are for you.” He thrusted them toward her and Hermione took an involuntary step back. Antonin frowned at the action.
Hermione cursed herself for the instincts that had kept her alive for so long. She took a step forward, reaching for the flowers. Their fingers tangled together around the stems and Hermione felt a shock when they touched that made her blush. “Thank you Antonin.”
He gulped, unsure what the electric charge between them meant. “You’re welcome.”
“How’s it going?” Harry asked, watching her from across the small round cafe table.
“It’s- He’s-” Hermione sighed and looked at him again with those pleading eyes, willing him to understand. “He’s not the same person anymore.”
Getting a wand was both a new and old experience.
He hated the way people -witches and wizards, he reminded himself- pulled away from him. The fear in their eyes and the hate etched on their faces made him feel both proud and immeasurably guilty. He shrank back from them, hoping that if he seemed smaller, if they couldn’t see his face, then maybe they wouldn’t loathe him.
He loved the way she stood by him. His Hermione walked past them all, head held high, as she led him through the crowds. Once, she even took his hand when the crowd seemed to close in around him, pulling him along behind her. Her small hand was warm, almost hot, in his larger one. It wasn’t soft as he expected, but rough with callouses. It felt like being found.
“I think you should find a new teacher for him.” Hermione stated as she stood in the middle of his office, rather than sitting like she normally would. She held herself stiffly, as if she were bracing herself against harsh words.
“Why?” Harry asked, he already had an idea of why, had suspected it over the last few months as they had grown closer.
She bit her lip, “Things have gotten… complicated.”
He had started bringing her flowers every time they met.
And then they started meeting more often.
Antonin would hold his breath, waiting for this time -this time- to be the one where she didn’t take the flowers, the time she didn’t blush, the time their fingers didn’t brush and he would be deprived of that tingle of awareness.
But every day she took them. And every day she blushed. And every day their fingers would touch and that little shock would run through him and he wondered.
Wondered if she felt it too.
He wondered right up until the day she took hold of the flowers and wrapped her hand around his own. His eyes widened as she rose to her tiptoes and leaned in close. He inhaled greedily- noting her scent of vanilla and parchment and the coffee she drank in copious amounts- and held his breath when her lips touched his cheek lightly. So soft they could have been goose down feathers. She lingered and her puff of breath warmed his cheek and sent goosebumps racing across his skin. She pulled back and searched his eyes. When she smiled, he released the breath he had been holding and when she turned away, he put a hand to the cheek she had kissed and swore he would never forget this moment.
She was drunk when she showed up on his doorstep.
“I do’ I don’ like ‘im Harry.” Her words were slurred and Harry quickly pulled her inside.
“Please tell me you didn’t apparate here.” He begged and checked her over for injuries. He had never seen Hermione like this before and he was worried about what may have caused her to drink so much.
“He’s no’ a good wizard ‘Arry. He’s no’” She stumbled as she tried to walk. “‘Course I didn’ ap’rate! I walked.” She told him as he settled her on the couch. She slumped forward into his arms and the smell of firewhisky on her breath was so strong it made his eyes sting.
Harry blinked as her slurred words began to clear up in his mind. “Is this about Antonin?”
She nodded sadly and sniffled. “I don’ like ‘im, ‘Arry. But, tha’s the problem. I do. I do like ‘im. So so much. Did you know he smells so good ‘Arry? I won *hiccup* I won’ner what he uses. An his hair! His hair is so dark and soft looking. Do you think it’s sof’ ‘Arry?”
She looked up at him with doleful eyes and Harry tried not to snort in amusement. He didn’t quiet succeed, but Hermione seemed to take it as an affirmative answer and nodded. “‘Course you do. Bu’ I can’ like ‘im! It’s wrong!”
Harry laid her back on the couch and brushed her wild curls out of her face. “You probably won’t remember this, but it’s okay to like him, you know? He’s a different person now. Isn’t that what you told me?” He smiled as she bunched the pillow under her head. “I think we had a similar conversation about Draco once.”
“Its differ’nt.” She mumbled sleepily and burrowed under the blanket Harry had summoned and draped over her.
Harry smiled down at her, her soft snores all too familiar. “Is it Hermione? Is it really?”
He wasn’t sure who started it, but he didn’t really care. She was on top of him, pushing him back into the mattress and his hands were up her shirt. When she pulled it off, his eyes widened at the sight of the long purple scar that ran from her shoulder to the opposite hip.
He traced it, his fingers dancing across the raised surface. She shivered under his touch. “Who did this to you?” He asked, his voice laced with anger. He would make that person pay. Man, woman, witch or wizard, they would pay for hurting her.
She took his hand in hers, lacing their fingers together. “A wizard did this. A very bad wizard who didn’t know any better.”
He looked deep into her eyes, searching. “Is he….?” He trailed off, too afraid of what answer was hiding in her eyes.
She kissed him. Hard. Teeth clashed together as she held his hand in one of her own against her chest. She pulled away panting, “He’s gone now. He’s gone now and that’s all that matters.”
Antonin nodded along and pulled her body back down until they were sharing breath. She moved against him and he pulled her tighter, kissing the delicate skin on her neck. She vanished the rest of their clothing and they both gasped at the skin-on-skin contact.
She balanced herself on her knees and positioned them both. When he slid into her for the first time, Antonin was sure that the muggles were wrong. Heaven wasn’t some place high above the clouds. Heaven was watching the woman he loved move above him, rising and falling to her own pace. Heaven was the wonder in her face as their combined heat brought a flush to her cheeks. Heaven, heaven was her face tilted toward the sky as she rode through her pleasure, her nails leaving red marks across his stomach and her breath coming in pants.
Heaven was watching her as he held onto her waist and prayed this would never end.
Antonin pulled her hips down as he pushed up. He threw his head back on the pillow and closed his eyes as he found his own release inside of her. Panting slightly, she slid off of him. They rolled over and he pulled her close, until her back was pressed against his chest. He pushed the sweat dampened hair off her neck and trailed soft kisses from between her shoulder blades to just under her hairline. “That’s all that matters.” He agreed.
