Unbroken

Monday, Week 1 (2)

Hermione POV

By the time 5:50 rolls around, I'm already out of the house with the key to Grimmauld Place in my pocket. I step out onto the sidewalk and apparate directly in front of Harry's house. I know I might be early but I'm prepared to wait for him. I only hope his day at work wasn't stressful.

I use the key and I'm granted entry to the home. Nothing has changed since the last time I was here months ago but I'm not surprised. Harry was always spartan in nature owing to his upbringing at the hands of his abusive relatives. He was neat, military neat almost. I can't help but think that, in another life, he would have joined the service. Something out about him risking his life.

I feel it before I think about it. A few traitorous tears are blossoming out of my eyes and rolling down my cheeks as I think about my self-sacrificing idiot of a best friend. Risking his life is all he's ever really known. Survival is really all he's ever known. It's why I wasn't surprised that he joined the aurors and it's why I'm not surprised that he quickly became the best of them.

Almost all of me wishes that he could find purpose in something else, someone else. But another part of me is secretly thankful he hasn't yet found someone. I don't know why I feel that way but I'm ashamed of it. He's my best friend and I should want him to be happy but why do I feel so unsettled at the thought of him being happy without me in his life?

A sound from upstairs alerts me to Harry's arrival. I know it can't be an intruder because the house is under the fidelius charm and I settle in to wait for him to come downstairs. On any other occasion I would have alerted him to my presence but I'm feeling mischievous and I want to see if I can catch the great Harry Potter offguard.

Minutes later, he comes downstairs and freezes at the sight of me while I do the same to him. He's shirtless, baring his chest and toned abs directly to my eyes. I see the numerous scars that litter his body but I'm not nearly as concerned about them. I've seen Harry shirtless before but this is different, this is...something. I wet my lips and clear my throat to regain some semblance of myself.

"Herm...ione?" He sounds like he's seen a ghost but his voice jolts me out of my musings and stops my eyes from roving over his delicious body. Wait, what? Delicious? Forget I thought that. Not that I'm ashamed of course, I mean he is a very attractive man so of course his body is attractive. I'm just going to shut up now, he's speaking to me.

"What are you doing here?" He asks me calmly. I notice he doesn't sound bothered by my presence and that makes me feel a whole lot better.

I still haven't regained control of myself but I have enough in me to say a joke. "I guess you can catch the Great Harry Potter offguard," I say with a nervous chuckle. He joins me after cocking his head in confusion. It is a deep, rumbling laugh that erupts from his chest and makes it vibrate.

"To what do I owe the visit, Miss Granger?" Was his voice always that deep? I am flustered but I think I recovered gracefully when I answer.

"Can't a girl drop in to see her best friend?" I notice he's still bloody shirtless and I want to order him to dress himself but it's his house and I don't want to impose. Yeah that sounds about right, it's not like I'm enjoying the show. Really, there is no show. None at all.

"She can but her best friend usually prefers a heads up," he quips at me. He's smirking now and I can see his abs flex a bit. Is he doing that on purpose?

"Erm...I just wanted to apologize for what I said yesterday," I told him. My voice comes out squeaky and I hope to Merlin he doesn't hear or acknowledge it. It's his ruddy fault anyway.

"Oh," he is contemplative, "I didn't realize you think you needed to." I'm sorry, what? What the hell was that supposed to mean? Did he not think my statement was hurtful? Or did he think I intended to hurt him? I am about to let out a scathing reply when I see him look at me comfortingly. I know immediately that he wasn't offended and most likely thinks I told him the truth.

"It was wrong of me to say that. I was just," I look at him sadly and now I finally allow myself to see past his body to look at his scars, "I'm just worried about you." I keep my composure because I don't want this to be about me. I know if I let myself break down, he'll just end up comforting me while I cry on his shoulder. I don't want that, I want this to be about him.

"You were right, though. I don't have anyone." His voice sounds resigned with a mixture of hurt and I feel my heart break for him. Just because he has no one to come home to doesn't mean his life is any less valuable.

"Even so, Harry. That doesn't mean you can be so...so foolhardy," I answer in return. "Your life means a lot to everyone around you," I stand up from the chair and walk over to him, tilting his head down to look at me, "besides, why aren't you trying to find someone?" I don't know why I ask that. The very thought of him finding someone to settle down with, to...love, makes me feel all sour inside.

"No can do," he tells me with a chortle. He sounds oddly like he's happy at the thought of being alone. I remind myself, however, that he's not actually alone. He's out here fucking several bit—women weekly. The thought is crude but it befits my anger at him. He must be enjoying sleeping around with women with no responsibility or care in the world.

"And what about Lyla?" I bitingly ask, remembering his recent fuck-buddy. Somehow, it gratifies me that she isn't anything more than a friend with benefits but I'm still appalled at this behavior from Harry.

"She's good company," he lightly responds and my aggravation grows. I know exactly what he means by 'good company'. He's such an arsehole.

"And you find this sort of lifestyle amusing right? Gratifying?" I poke his chest, almost marveling at the hardness of it, before regaining the composure to be angry at him.

"No." Somehow, I know he isn't lying. Yet, I'm still bloody confused why he chooses to engage in such...such devilry.

"Then why? Why are you doing this? There are loads of women who would honor you," I plead with him despite part of myself telling me to shut my stupid mouth. I beat it back and tell myself that I want him to be happy. I convince the small part of myself but the other remains defiant.

"Those women would love to be on the arm of the Man-Who-Won," he spat. I flinch at his tone, not out of fear, but out of surprise at how bitter he sounds. "None of them could see me for who I am. And I'm pretty sure all of them would run away at the sight of these." He gestures down to the myriad of scars on his body.

"I'm not running away." I hear myself say to him. The words are out before I can pull them back and I'm not sure why I say them.

"You're different, you've always been different." I see something in his vibrant emerald eyes that I can't quite make out and it disappears as soon as it comes. I find myself blushing at the compliment.

"Well, why don't you try to find someone like me?" I try to question him. His resulting laugh is airy and full of humor. I am confused.

"There's no one like you, Hermione," he replies honestly, shocking me into silence. The compliment warms my heart because I know it's genuine.

"Don't worry about me, Hermione. Though, if you disapprove of my 'sleeping habits', then I can't do much about that." He roguishly grins at me but I am not amused. I very much disapprove of him sleeping around but he is right, I can't do anything about it.

"One day you'll find someone, I'm sure of it." I sound hopeful but, again, there's this opposing side of me that hates the words. I don't know why and it's starting to piss me off.

Unsure of how to leave his presence, I settle to just stand there looking like an idiot at him. I feel like hugging him but I'm afraid he won't reciprocate. We haven't been nearly as close in the past year and I don't think I could handle it if he rejects my hug.

"Later, Hermione." He pulls me into his arms quickly and gives me a hug. I feel like my face is splitting apart from the force of my smile and I wrap my arms around him tightly. My face is up against his hard body and his scent wafts into my nose, comforting me greatly. I'm content to stay like this for a while longer.