Regrets (After the Flaw: Oligarchy, Chapter 32)
Title: Regrets (After the Flaw: Oligarchy, Chapter 32)
Author: kanedax
Rating: R for language, nudity, and sexual content
Spoilers: Previous Chapters
Summary: Teddy gets a visitor
Notes: It might be a bit cliche but, in the world of fiction, what isn't?
I own these characters. The others belong to JK Rowling.
The Tutshill Summit / Previous Chapters / Coming Home
"I still can't stay. You know that, right?"
"I know," said Ted Lupin. "And for what it's worth, I'm sorry."
"You have nothing to apologize for," said Victoire Weasley, pulling her bare knees up to her chest and staring out at the ocean. The warm sun shined down on the white sand beach upon which they both sat, he in an unbuttoned white shirt and baggy shorts, her in a blue bikini top and flower-printed sarong. It was the perfect kind of day, not too hot and not too cold, and they were the only two living souls for miles.
"If I hadn't hidden it from her," Ted argued, "or if I hadn't... buckled to my urges..."
"The last time I checked, it takes two to tango," said Victoire. "In the end, though, it doesn't matter whose fault it was. What matters is that it happened. Whether it was fate or destiny or just stupid bloody hormones I can't say. I'm still leaving. And not just because HC found out about us. Since I've been back, I... I just feel...
alone misplaced out of sorts a jigsaw piece with no puzzle
I don't know how to explain it."
"You don't have to," said Ted, the images rushing through his mind. "This psychic link's pretty damn convenient sometimes."
"My friends aren't my friends anymore," said Victoire. "I mean, they're my friends, but I'm not close to them anymore, any of them. My job in Romania wasn't the best for me: no real friendly people outside of Uncle Charlie. No chance at advancement or, well, pay. And, let's be honest, dragons are a fairly limited field compared to what I want to do."
"Which is what, exactly?"
"I don't know," said Victoire, shaking her head. "I just want to work with more animals than giant flying reptiles, I guess. Get a little more diversity."
"Diversity is good," said Ted.
"I need to start over, you know?" said Victoire. "Move somewhere where no one knows my name, everyone knows my language. Meet new people, see new places, find a new job. Start a new life."
A dozen different responses floated through Ted's head, and Victoire heard all of them.
"I know you do," she said, leaning against him. "And a part of me, most of me, really wants you to. But we shouldn't."
"Why not?" asked Ted. "Hermione's not going to take me back. My neighborhood's destroyed. Things with the Potters and the rest of the Weasleys are going to be just as bad as they will for you. And I can act just as well anywhere else as I can here--"
"Maybe more," Victoire admitted. "Walking into an American audition with your accent has to be an advantage."
"So why can't we start a new life together?"
"Because you said Hermione's not going to take me back first," she said. "Because I want to be with you wasn't one of your reasons. I love you, but I would know that the only reason that you would be with me is because you were running away from HC, and that I was your, I don't know, your back-up plan."
"You wouldn't be my back-up plan," Ted argued. "I'd come with you because I want to be with you."
"If HC came over tonight and said she wants to give you a second chance, would you take her offer?"
Ted fell into silence, because he couldn't answer that question.
"You would," said Victoire. "Even now, you'd rather be with her than with me. I'm your back-up plan, your second option. But if we went off with each other, I'd be okay with being second best if it meant being with you. And I shouldn't. I need to be someone's first choice, and I can't be that with you. Not now, at least. I need space from you. Space and time."
"And yet here we are," said Ted with a sigh, because, despite everything she had just said, Victoire was still leaning against him, his arm around her shoulder, her head against his chest. He could still smell her hair, feel her bare arm beneath his hand, the press of her breast against his side.
"This is different," she said, responding to his thoughts by putting her arms around his middle. "I still need this. Things are hectic enough with Luna and Professor Longbottom. But now with the cottage in lockdown since that Oligarchy guy met with Aunt Jean, I need relief. You're my relief. I have to leave you, but I can't force myself do it yet."
Ted nodded, understanding because it was the same for him. He shouldn't be here, shouldn't be holding Victoire like he was. If he wanted to try to be with Hermione at all, he'd have to give up these rendezvous. But they hadn't spoken. And there had been no decision yet. And Ted had barely spoken to any of his friends, barely spoken to his family, for fear that he would try to explain his side. For fear that some would feel obligated to take his side. Because he didn't want that. He felt like he didn't deserve any support for his betrayal.
And so Victoire was his relief, yes, just as he was hers. Some people say that alcohol is the best cure for a hangover, and Victoire was both the cause and the best cure for his current sickness. He knew he should give her up. Yet here they were...
"How have things been going with Luna?" asked Ted.
"Quite well, actually," said Victoire, grateful for the change of subject. "Better than we thought it would be, actually. Her journal's amazing. Mostly."
"How so?"
"Well, avoiding the parts about her thinking of having sex with various members of our family," said Victoire with amused disgust, "there's no real pattern that we could find. She did mention something about having a copy of her research somewhere, which might help us a lot."
"That would... wow," said Ted. "That could be huge."
"It's not just that, either," said Victoire. "There's... she wrote things that were fairly, um, prophetic. She mentioned the Oligarchy two days before they attacked. And... and... a few days before that, one of her entries had words randomly replaced with typhon."
"Jesus Christ," said Ted, sitting straight up. "You don't think she knew, do you? That they had a typhon?"
"It's possible," said Victoire. "But, um, I don't know if you remember the night that the campsite was attacked, during the dream that we had together..."
"Wait," said Ted, thinking. "Hermione said something about a typhon, too, didn't she? In our dream? When we were... um...."
"Having sex, you can say it," said Victoire. "There must have been... Well, I can't even pretend to know what happened. One of the Oligarchy got into our dream. Some of their thoughts must have accidentally come through--"
"Because there's no way they would have told us about the typhon," Ted agreed. "No way they would have let that slip on purpose."
"--and somehow Luna got the word, too. Whether she was in the dream, too, or picked up on the cat woman's thoughts some other way, I wouldn't know. But she did. And she might know more than even we do. Her brain's so full of thoughts, there has to be something filed away somewhere."
"But as long as she's locked into that curse," said Ted, "there's no way we could find out what else she knows or how to find the rest of her research."
"Well, I might have a really bad idea," said Victoire, suddenly becoming uncomfortable. "I have to talk to Professor Longbottom first, because he has the ultimate say, but--"
ding dong
---------
Ted Lupin's eyes flew open at the sound of the doorbell. As he sat up his neck and back groaned in protest. He didn't know how long he had been asleep, but he had to remember that Grandmum's couch wasn't the best place for naps for someone his height. Despite moving out, Andromeda Tonks had still kept his old bedroom, his old bed, just the way it always had been. He'd been using it since left Clapham a week ago, and he'd have to remember to use it when Victoire came calling.
Not that she'd come calling very often. Since their affair came to a head, Ted and Victoire had only seen each other, in their dreams, twice before tonight. Every night it had been the same: Ted knew that she was looking for him in her sleep, and he joined her. How he knew this, he still didn't know. It was a sense that had developed since the two discovered their unusual connection back in December. Whether it was her reaching out for him, or just some sort of instinct, in the end it didn't matter. They met, they briefly considered making love, only to just know that things would only be worse if they took that step again, even in their minds.
So they sat. And they talked. The first time it had been on the cliffs of Shell Cottage. That, however, felt too close to the rest of the world. So Ted chose a section of shoreline that he had seen in numerous unnamed films. The Carribean, maybe, or Hawaii. In the end it didn't matter. It was peaceful, it was tranquil, and that was what they both needed.
Who could it be? Ted thought, rubbing the sleep from his eyes as he approached the door. In the middle of the hallway, he stopped. Turned back to the living room and grabbed his wand from the coffee table. After Aunt Jean's visitor, it was better safe than sorry to be prepared for anything or anyone.
Probably Harry, he thought, trying to relieve his nerves. If it was Oligarchy or Death Eaters they could have just blasted their way in. It's not like Grandmum has a load of protective charms around here.
Either way, he tightened his grip on his wand as he gripped the doorknob. Turned it. Pulled it open.
A blond woman, his blond woman, stood on the doorstep.
"Hermione," Ted breathed, his heart stopping. Hermione Caroline Lupin was standing in front of him, facing him for the first time since Dean had Apparated them into their back yard two centuries ago. Her gloved hands were clenched in front of her, and the look on her pale face showed that she was more nervous than she had ever been. Her eyes widened at the sight of him, as though she had planned this moment for a week but still wasn't prepared for anything.
She stepped forward. Kissed him on the lips. He kissed her back, grateful to have her back in his arms. He didn't realize just how much he had missed her until this moment, as their kisses became more and more intense, more and more frenetic. Her hands ran up to the back of his head, tightening in his hair. He felt moisture on his face from her tears. But as they kissed, as he felt his wife against his body, he knew that they weren't tears of relief, tears of joy, tears of happiness.
And that's when he knew that this would be the last time.
---------
Break-up sex isn't all it's cracked up to be.
Ted and Hermione didn't say a word as they made their way to his childhood bedroom. Ted wanted to talk, wanted to say something to her, wanted to fall to his knees and beg for her forgiveness. But the words couldn't come.
When they found his bed, Hermoine removed her jeans and her knickers before anything else, as though she needed him to be with her, to be in her, but was afraid of exposing herself to him completely. After they lay down, however, and as she climbed onto him and felt himself inside, she removed everything else. They needed contact, needed to feel skin, to feel the spark that did remain between them, however dim it had become.
They did love each other as they made love.
But they couldn't quite look each other in the eye.
After it was over, Hermione rolled off of him and lay quietly on her back. Their sweaty shoulders touching on his small bed, Ted could feel a tenseness in her that her orgasm, a high-pitched squeak that Ted had come to love over the years, hadn't quite relieved. Her arms were crossed over her bare breasts, and she glanced into the corner of the room, where their clothes were piled. She wants it to be over, he thought. She's uncomfortable being in the room with me, doesn't want me to see her naked anymore. Instead of getting out of bed to reclaim her shirt, however, Hermione pulled the bedsheets up to her collarbones.
The silence stretched on, broken occasionally by the sad sniffles from Hermione's side of the bed. As the two lay side-by-side, staring at the ceiling, Ted began to regret. Everything. Where had the mistake been made? How did it come to this? He regretted not telling Hermione about Victoire sooner. Regretted being with Victoire in the first place. Regretted getting married, proposing to Hermione, kissing Victoire at 9 3/4s, not choosing her over Hermione that fateful day. Regretted asking Hermione out via owl when they were only thirteen. Regretted his parents' death, as he wouldn't have been raised by the Potters, wouldn't have been as close to Hermione's family in the first place, wouldn't have grown to love her as much as he did. Regretted that damn bit of genetics that made him a wizard and her a Muggle, separating them from birth even as they tried so hard to keep themselves together.
Where did it all go wrong? Where was the loose thread of fate that created the mess that they were in? The nail that lost the kingdom?
"How long has it been?"
Ted looked over at the sound of Hermione's voice, shaky with tears.
"What?"
"You and Victoire," she asked, one of the many questions that Ted knew would come, dreaded coming. "How long have you two been together?"
"I don't know," Ted said with a sigh. "It's--"
"Don't," Hermione snapped, her eyes still glued to the ceiling. "Don't sugar coat with me, don't hide things from me. I wanted to believe you've been honest with me our entire lives, and I want to believe that you'd respect me enough to not lie to me now. I want to know everything. I need to know everything. I need to know whether this is all your fault, or whether the mistake was thinking that we should have even gotten married in the first place. I need to know whether we can even scrap together enough to try to be friends or whether I have to cut you from my life completely."
Ted closed his eyes, absorbing the weight of her words, knowing what they meant. They had known each other since they were two years old, and the decision about whether to throw those nineteen years away hinged on the next few minutes. She wanted the truth, she deserved the truth, and he couldn't think of hiding anything else from her, ever again.
"I honestly don't know how long we've been together," he said. "It might be a month. It might be two years."
"Two years..." Hermione breathed, releasing a shaky sigh.
"We were both having... dreams," he explained, having to force each word from his mouth, scared to discover which one would be the one to break their world. "About each other. Um, fantasies. Sexual fantasies. I thought they were just dreams, and so did she."
"But they weren't..."
"They weren't," Ted agreed. "The night of the attack, the night that I had the dream with the Oligarchy member in it... I was having one of those dreams when it happened. The night Victoire came over last month, the night I went out with her for a bit, when Harry and Jean and Ron were over? That's when we found out that they weren't dreams. We had both dreamt about more than the cat-faced woman that night. She had had the same dream that night, and she had had the same dreams all of those other nights."
"So you started... because you were sharing dreams about each other?"
"It was more than that," Ted said, wishing that he couldn't explain it further, knowing that Hermione wouldn't allow him to not. "They were more... vivid. And we had control over it. Without even knowing it, we were meeting each other in some other... realm, or reality, or whatever. But once we did find out..."
"You didn't stop," said Hermione, now almost whispering, not having the emotional energy to speak. "Did you two meet outside of this... whatever?"
"Yes," Ted sighed. "Not often. Four times between that night and the day of the attack."
"That's a lot for a month and a half," Hermione said flatly. "Fucking another woman four times--"
"Once," Ted insisted. "We only had sex once, and it was a huge mistake--"
"In real life," said Hermione, her voice rising. She sat up, holding the blanket to her breasts, and stared down at him with anger. "And once is bad enough. But how many times in your... your dreams...?"
"I don't know!" Ted cried out in weary frustration. "I didn't know! I didn't know that we were actually choosing to be with each other until--"
"You could have chosen to not!" Hermione cried. "You could have decided that it was wrong to dream about Victoire, and--"
"They were dreams!" said Ted. "You can't tell me that you haven't dreamt about having sex with another man as long as we were together."
"It's different!" Hermione said. "Yes, I've had dreams about having sex with other men, but it's different! You just said that you had control--"
"Yes, in the last month," said Ted. "When I knew we were sharing dreams, when we found out that we knew things about each other that we couldn't have known, when we found out that the dreams were real, then, yes, I found out that I did have some kind of control. And we tried, Hermione, we tried to stop. But we just... We were stupid and she was lonely and... and... and ever since you kicked me out I found out that I've had a lot more control. But not before that."
"Since I kicked you out? You're still seeing her?"
"We've been meeting," said Ted. "We haven't been sleeping with each other, but we have met a few times, yes. In our dreams. To talk. We need it, we need some kind of... of... companionship..."
"And what am I?" Hermione yelled. "I haven't heard anything from you in the last week, I've been alone except for Mum and Dad, and you've been meeting with the other woman this whole time? How am I supposed to react to something like that?"
"I don't know!" Ted said, sitting up and leaning on his knees, his head in his hands. "I don't know, Hermione! I... You asked me to leave. You wanted me to be away from you. I did what you asked. I haven't called you once, even though I've wanted to call or rush over to your parents house, but I thought you knew what you wanted, and I didn't want to make things worse by not... not doing what you wanted me to do."
Hermione was now crying fully. Her knees were pulled up to her chest, and her face was pressed into the sheets. "I don't know what I want," she said through her tears. "I don't... I've wanted to be in your arms, I've wanted to see you and Victoire drive off a cliff. I've... I've... I've just wanted to fall asleep and never wake up. I just want this to be over... All of it. I want to stop hurting..."
Ted knew that he shouldn't do it, but he couldn't help it. He couldn't stand to sit by and see her suffer. He reached over, put her arm around her, pulled her close. Hermione relented, clutching him tightly, sobbing freely into his chest.
"I love you more than anything in my life," she said as he ran a hand through her hair. "I can't imagine living without you. And it's... it's not enough. And it's killing me..."
"I'm sorry," Ted said, now crying himself. "I'm so sorry that I've done this to you. That I'm putting you through this. I love you so much, Hermione..."
"But it's not enough..."
"I... I guess... it's not..."
Hermione nodded. Ted adjusted himself, laying back onto the bed, with Hermione beside him, her hand on her chest, her naked body pressed against him, comforting to the end.
"I have to find out what happens next," she whispered. "Go to... I don't know where, file whatever paperwork needs to be filed. For... the..."
For the divorce.
"I think I have to go through the Ministry, too," said Ted. "We had to get two licenses, one through each government."
"We don't... God, we don't need lawyers, do we?" Hermione said with a sad sniff. "We can sort things out without having to have someone do it for us?"
"I think so," Ted said with a nod. "You can have the house, I have Grimmauld--"
"I don't want to talk about it," Hermione said. "I don't want tonight to be about figuring out who keeps what."
"Alright."
"Can I...?" she said, trailing off.
"Can you what?"
"Can I... stay tonight?" she asked. "It's the worst thing that I can do, but I can't... I don't want tonight to end. Not yet. I want one more night with you before it's over."
Ted looked down. Dared to kiss his wife, to feel her lips against his, the taste of her breath inside his mouth. He pulled back, and dared to look her in the eye.
"I have a wand," he said suddenly, his pain and his love speaking for him. "I have my wand, I can do a memory modification charm, we can forget that all of this ever happened, we can get away and be together and--"
"No," said Hermione, pressing her hand against his cheek. "Too many people already know. And even if they didn't, we'd be lying to ourselves, and lying to each other. We can't."
"I love you so much," Ted said, grabbing her hand. "I never wanted to hurt you..."
"I know."
"I have to have you in my life."
"I know," said Hermione. "I know. And I have to have you there, too. I've known you since we had baby teeth, and I'll die if you're gone. If it means trying to be just friends, then I'm willing to try if you are."
"I can try..."
"But not tonight?"
"Please, God, not tonight," Ted said, touching her face. "Please be my wife for one more night."
"Please," Hermione said. "Please be my husband for one more night."
Ted and Hermione Caroline Lupin made love two more times, fighting sleep for as long as they could. At four in the morning they were finally overcome.
Victoire Weasley didn't visit Ted's dreams that night.
---------
When he awoke, Hermione Caroline Granger was gone, and Ted Lupin faced the rest of his life.
The Tutshill Summit / Previous Chapters / Coming Home
Author: kanedax
Rating: R for language, nudity, and sexual content
Spoilers: Previous Chapters
Summary: Teddy gets a visitor
Notes: It might be a bit cliche but, in the world of fiction, what isn't?
I own these characters. The others belong to JK Rowling.
The Tutshill Summit / Previous Chapters / Coming Home
"I still can't stay. You know that, right?"
"I know," said Ted Lupin. "And for what it's worth, I'm sorry."
"You have nothing to apologize for," said Victoire Weasley, pulling her bare knees up to her chest and staring out at the ocean. The warm sun shined down on the white sand beach upon which they both sat, he in an unbuttoned white shirt and baggy shorts, her in a blue bikini top and flower-printed sarong. It was the perfect kind of day, not too hot and not too cold, and they were the only two living souls for miles.
"If I hadn't hidden it from her," Ted argued, "or if I hadn't... buckled to my urges..."
"The last time I checked, it takes two to tango," said Victoire. "In the end, though, it doesn't matter whose fault it was. What matters is that it happened. Whether it was fate or destiny or just stupid bloody hormones I can't say. I'm still leaving. And not just because HC found out about us. Since I've been back, I... I just feel...
alone misplaced out of sorts a jigsaw piece with no puzzle
I don't know how to explain it."
"You don't have to," said Ted, the images rushing through his mind. "This psychic link's pretty damn convenient sometimes."
"My friends aren't my friends anymore," said Victoire. "I mean, they're my friends, but I'm not close to them anymore, any of them. My job in Romania wasn't the best for me: no real friendly people outside of Uncle Charlie. No chance at advancement or, well, pay. And, let's be honest, dragons are a fairly limited field compared to what I want to do."
"Which is what, exactly?"
"I don't know," said Victoire, shaking her head. "I just want to work with more animals than giant flying reptiles, I guess. Get a little more diversity."
"Diversity is good," said Ted.
"I need to start over, you know?" said Victoire. "Move somewhere where no one knows my name, everyone knows my language. Meet new people, see new places, find a new job. Start a new life."
A dozen different responses floated through Ted's head, and Victoire heard all of them.
"I know you do," she said, leaning against him. "And a part of me, most of me, really wants you to. But we shouldn't."
"Why not?" asked Ted. "Hermione's not going to take me back. My neighborhood's destroyed. Things with the Potters and the rest of the Weasleys are going to be just as bad as they will for you. And I can act just as well anywhere else as I can here--"
"Maybe more," Victoire admitted. "Walking into an American audition with your accent has to be an advantage."
"So why can't we start a new life together?"
"Because you said Hermione's not going to take me back first," she said. "Because I want to be with you wasn't one of your reasons. I love you, but I would know that the only reason that you would be with me is because you were running away from HC, and that I was your, I don't know, your back-up plan."
"You wouldn't be my back-up plan," Ted argued. "I'd come with you because I want to be with you."
"If HC came over tonight and said she wants to give you a second chance, would you take her offer?"
Ted fell into silence, because he couldn't answer that question.
"You would," said Victoire. "Even now, you'd rather be with her than with me. I'm your back-up plan, your second option. But if we went off with each other, I'd be okay with being second best if it meant being with you. And I shouldn't. I need to be someone's first choice, and I can't be that with you. Not now, at least. I need space from you. Space and time."
"And yet here we are," said Ted with a sigh, because, despite everything she had just said, Victoire was still leaning against him, his arm around her shoulder, her head against his chest. He could still smell her hair, feel her bare arm beneath his hand, the press of her breast against his side.
"This is different," she said, responding to his thoughts by putting her arms around his middle. "I still need this. Things are hectic enough with Luna and Professor Longbottom. But now with the cottage in lockdown since that Oligarchy guy met with Aunt Jean, I need relief. You're my relief. I have to leave you, but I can't force myself do it yet."
Ted nodded, understanding because it was the same for him. He shouldn't be here, shouldn't be holding Victoire like he was. If he wanted to try to be with Hermione at all, he'd have to give up these rendezvous. But they hadn't spoken. And there had been no decision yet. And Ted had barely spoken to any of his friends, barely spoken to his family, for fear that he would try to explain his side. For fear that some would feel obligated to take his side. Because he didn't want that. He felt like he didn't deserve any support for his betrayal.
And so Victoire was his relief, yes, just as he was hers. Some people say that alcohol is the best cure for a hangover, and Victoire was both the cause and the best cure for his current sickness. He knew he should give her up. Yet here they were...
"How have things been going with Luna?" asked Ted.
"Quite well, actually," said Victoire, grateful for the change of subject. "Better than we thought it would be, actually. Her journal's amazing. Mostly."
"How so?"
"Well, avoiding the parts about her thinking of having sex with various members of our family," said Victoire with amused disgust, "there's no real pattern that we could find. She did mention something about having a copy of her research somewhere, which might help us a lot."
"That would... wow," said Ted. "That could be huge."
"It's not just that, either," said Victoire. "There's... she wrote things that were fairly, um, prophetic. She mentioned the Oligarchy two days before they attacked. And... and... a few days before that, one of her entries had words randomly replaced with typhon."
"Jesus Christ," said Ted, sitting straight up. "You don't think she knew, do you? That they had a typhon?"
"It's possible," said Victoire. "But, um, I don't know if you remember the night that the campsite was attacked, during the dream that we had together..."
"Wait," said Ted, thinking. "Hermione said something about a typhon, too, didn't she? In our dream? When we were... um...."
"Having sex, you can say it," said Victoire. "There must have been... Well, I can't even pretend to know what happened. One of the Oligarchy got into our dream. Some of their thoughts must have accidentally come through--"
"Because there's no way they would have told us about the typhon," Ted agreed. "No way they would have let that slip on purpose."
"--and somehow Luna got the word, too. Whether she was in the dream, too, or picked up on the cat woman's thoughts some other way, I wouldn't know. But she did. And she might know more than even we do. Her brain's so full of thoughts, there has to be something filed away somewhere."
"But as long as she's locked into that curse," said Ted, "there's no way we could find out what else she knows or how to find the rest of her research."
"Well, I might have a really bad idea," said Victoire, suddenly becoming uncomfortable. "I have to talk to Professor Longbottom first, because he has the ultimate say, but--"
ding dong
---------
Ted Lupin's eyes flew open at the sound of the doorbell. As he sat up his neck and back groaned in protest. He didn't know how long he had been asleep, but he had to remember that Grandmum's couch wasn't the best place for naps for someone his height. Despite moving out, Andromeda Tonks had still kept his old bedroom, his old bed, just the way it always had been. He'd been using it since left Clapham a week ago, and he'd have to remember to use it when Victoire came calling.
Not that she'd come calling very often. Since their affair came to a head, Ted and Victoire had only seen each other, in their dreams, twice before tonight. Every night it had been the same: Ted knew that she was looking for him in her sleep, and he joined her. How he knew this, he still didn't know. It was a sense that had developed since the two discovered their unusual connection back in December. Whether it was her reaching out for him, or just some sort of instinct, in the end it didn't matter. They met, they briefly considered making love, only to just know that things would only be worse if they took that step again, even in their minds.
So they sat. And they talked. The first time it had been on the cliffs of Shell Cottage. That, however, felt too close to the rest of the world. So Ted chose a section of shoreline that he had seen in numerous unnamed films. The Carribean, maybe, or Hawaii. In the end it didn't matter. It was peaceful, it was tranquil, and that was what they both needed.
Who could it be? Ted thought, rubbing the sleep from his eyes as he approached the door. In the middle of the hallway, he stopped. Turned back to the living room and grabbed his wand from the coffee table. After Aunt Jean's visitor, it was better safe than sorry to be prepared for anything or anyone.
Probably Harry, he thought, trying to relieve his nerves. If it was Oligarchy or Death Eaters they could have just blasted their way in. It's not like Grandmum has a load of protective charms around here.
Either way, he tightened his grip on his wand as he gripped the doorknob. Turned it. Pulled it open.
A blond woman, his blond woman, stood on the doorstep.
"Hermione," Ted breathed, his heart stopping. Hermione Caroline Lupin was standing in front of him, facing him for the first time since Dean had Apparated them into their back yard two centuries ago. Her gloved hands were clenched in front of her, and the look on her pale face showed that she was more nervous than she had ever been. Her eyes widened at the sight of him, as though she had planned this moment for a week but still wasn't prepared for anything.
She stepped forward. Kissed him on the lips. He kissed her back, grateful to have her back in his arms. He didn't realize just how much he had missed her until this moment, as their kisses became more and more intense, more and more frenetic. Her hands ran up to the back of his head, tightening in his hair. He felt moisture on his face from her tears. But as they kissed, as he felt his wife against his body, he knew that they weren't tears of relief, tears of joy, tears of happiness.
And that's when he knew that this would be the last time.
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Break-up sex isn't all it's cracked up to be.
Ted and Hermione didn't say a word as they made their way to his childhood bedroom. Ted wanted to talk, wanted to say something to her, wanted to fall to his knees and beg for her forgiveness. But the words couldn't come.
When they found his bed, Hermoine removed her jeans and her knickers before anything else, as though she needed him to be with her, to be in her, but was afraid of exposing herself to him completely. After they lay down, however, and as she climbed onto him and felt himself inside, she removed everything else. They needed contact, needed to feel skin, to feel the spark that did remain between them, however dim it had become.
They did love each other as they made love.
But they couldn't quite look each other in the eye.
After it was over, Hermione rolled off of him and lay quietly on her back. Their sweaty shoulders touching on his small bed, Ted could feel a tenseness in her that her orgasm, a high-pitched squeak that Ted had come to love over the years, hadn't quite relieved. Her arms were crossed over her bare breasts, and she glanced into the corner of the room, where their clothes were piled. She wants it to be over, he thought. She's uncomfortable being in the room with me, doesn't want me to see her naked anymore. Instead of getting out of bed to reclaim her shirt, however, Hermione pulled the bedsheets up to her collarbones.
The silence stretched on, broken occasionally by the sad sniffles from Hermione's side of the bed. As the two lay side-by-side, staring at the ceiling, Ted began to regret. Everything. Where had the mistake been made? How did it come to this? He regretted not telling Hermione about Victoire sooner. Regretted being with Victoire in the first place. Regretted getting married, proposing to Hermione, kissing Victoire at 9 3/4s, not choosing her over Hermione that fateful day. Regretted asking Hermione out via owl when they were only thirteen. Regretted his parents' death, as he wouldn't have been raised by the Potters, wouldn't have been as close to Hermione's family in the first place, wouldn't have grown to love her as much as he did. Regretted that damn bit of genetics that made him a wizard and her a Muggle, separating them from birth even as they tried so hard to keep themselves together.
Where did it all go wrong? Where was the loose thread of fate that created the mess that they were in? The nail that lost the kingdom?
"How long has it been?"
Ted looked over at the sound of Hermione's voice, shaky with tears.
"What?"
"You and Victoire," she asked, one of the many questions that Ted knew would come, dreaded coming. "How long have you two been together?"
"I don't know," Ted said with a sigh. "It's--"
"Don't," Hermione snapped, her eyes still glued to the ceiling. "Don't sugar coat with me, don't hide things from me. I wanted to believe you've been honest with me our entire lives, and I want to believe that you'd respect me enough to not lie to me now. I want to know everything. I need to know everything. I need to know whether this is all your fault, or whether the mistake was thinking that we should have even gotten married in the first place. I need to know whether we can even scrap together enough to try to be friends or whether I have to cut you from my life completely."
Ted closed his eyes, absorbing the weight of her words, knowing what they meant. They had known each other since they were two years old, and the decision about whether to throw those nineteen years away hinged on the next few minutes. She wanted the truth, she deserved the truth, and he couldn't think of hiding anything else from her, ever again.
"I honestly don't know how long we've been together," he said. "It might be a month. It might be two years."
"Two years..." Hermione breathed, releasing a shaky sigh.
"We were both having... dreams," he explained, having to force each word from his mouth, scared to discover which one would be the one to break their world. "About each other. Um, fantasies. Sexual fantasies. I thought they were just dreams, and so did she."
"But they weren't..."
"They weren't," Ted agreed. "The night of the attack, the night that I had the dream with the Oligarchy member in it... I was having one of those dreams when it happened. The night Victoire came over last month, the night I went out with her for a bit, when Harry and Jean and Ron were over? That's when we found out that they weren't dreams. We had both dreamt about more than the cat-faced woman that night. She had had the same dream that night, and she had had the same dreams all of those other nights."
"So you started... because you were sharing dreams about each other?"
"It was more than that," Ted said, wishing that he couldn't explain it further, knowing that Hermione wouldn't allow him to not. "They were more... vivid. And we had control over it. Without even knowing it, we were meeting each other in some other... realm, or reality, or whatever. But once we did find out..."
"You didn't stop," said Hermione, now almost whispering, not having the emotional energy to speak. "Did you two meet outside of this... whatever?"
"Yes," Ted sighed. "Not often. Four times between that night and the day of the attack."
"That's a lot for a month and a half," Hermione said flatly. "Fucking another woman four times--"
"Once," Ted insisted. "We only had sex once, and it was a huge mistake--"
"In real life," said Hermione, her voice rising. She sat up, holding the blanket to her breasts, and stared down at him with anger. "And once is bad enough. But how many times in your... your dreams...?"
"I don't know!" Ted cried out in weary frustration. "I didn't know! I didn't know that we were actually choosing to be with each other until--"
"You could have chosen to not!" Hermione cried. "You could have decided that it was wrong to dream about Victoire, and--"
"They were dreams!" said Ted. "You can't tell me that you haven't dreamt about having sex with another man as long as we were together."
"It's different!" Hermione said. "Yes, I've had dreams about having sex with other men, but it's different! You just said that you had control--"
"Yes, in the last month," said Ted. "When I knew we were sharing dreams, when we found out that we knew things about each other that we couldn't have known, when we found out that the dreams were real, then, yes, I found out that I did have some kind of control. And we tried, Hermione, we tried to stop. But we just... We were stupid and she was lonely and... and... and ever since you kicked me out I found out that I've had a lot more control. But not before that."
"Since I kicked you out? You're still seeing her?"
"We've been meeting," said Ted. "We haven't been sleeping with each other, but we have met a few times, yes. In our dreams. To talk. We need it, we need some kind of... of... companionship..."
"And what am I?" Hermione yelled. "I haven't heard anything from you in the last week, I've been alone except for Mum and Dad, and you've been meeting with the other woman this whole time? How am I supposed to react to something like that?"
"I don't know!" Ted said, sitting up and leaning on his knees, his head in his hands. "I don't know, Hermione! I... You asked me to leave. You wanted me to be away from you. I did what you asked. I haven't called you once, even though I've wanted to call or rush over to your parents house, but I thought you knew what you wanted, and I didn't want to make things worse by not... not doing what you wanted me to do."
Hermione was now crying fully. Her knees were pulled up to her chest, and her face was pressed into the sheets. "I don't know what I want," she said through her tears. "I don't... I've wanted to be in your arms, I've wanted to see you and Victoire drive off a cliff. I've... I've... I've just wanted to fall asleep and never wake up. I just want this to be over... All of it. I want to stop hurting..."
Ted knew that he shouldn't do it, but he couldn't help it. He couldn't stand to sit by and see her suffer. He reached over, put her arm around her, pulled her close. Hermione relented, clutching him tightly, sobbing freely into his chest.
"I love you more than anything in my life," she said as he ran a hand through her hair. "I can't imagine living without you. And it's... it's not enough. And it's killing me..."
"I'm sorry," Ted said, now crying himself. "I'm so sorry that I've done this to you. That I'm putting you through this. I love you so much, Hermione..."
"But it's not enough..."
"I... I guess... it's not..."
Hermione nodded. Ted adjusted himself, laying back onto the bed, with Hermione beside him, her hand on her chest, her naked body pressed against him, comforting to the end.
"I have to find out what happens next," she whispered. "Go to... I don't know where, file whatever paperwork needs to be filed. For... the..."
For the divorce.
"I think I have to go through the Ministry, too," said Ted. "We had to get two licenses, one through each government."
"We don't... God, we don't need lawyers, do we?" Hermione said with a sad sniff. "We can sort things out without having to have someone do it for us?"
"I think so," Ted said with a nod. "You can have the house, I have Grimmauld--"
"I don't want to talk about it," Hermione said. "I don't want tonight to be about figuring out who keeps what."
"Alright."
"Can I...?" she said, trailing off.
"Can you what?"
"Can I... stay tonight?" she asked. "It's the worst thing that I can do, but I can't... I don't want tonight to end. Not yet. I want one more night with you before it's over."
Ted looked down. Dared to kiss his wife, to feel her lips against his, the taste of her breath inside his mouth. He pulled back, and dared to look her in the eye.
"I have a wand," he said suddenly, his pain and his love speaking for him. "I have my wand, I can do a memory modification charm, we can forget that all of this ever happened, we can get away and be together and--"
"No," said Hermione, pressing her hand against his cheek. "Too many people already know. And even if they didn't, we'd be lying to ourselves, and lying to each other. We can't."
"I love you so much," Ted said, grabbing her hand. "I never wanted to hurt you..."
"I know."
"I have to have you in my life."
"I know," said Hermione. "I know. And I have to have you there, too. I've known you since we had baby teeth, and I'll die if you're gone. If it means trying to be just friends, then I'm willing to try if you are."
"I can try..."
"But not tonight?"
"Please, God, not tonight," Ted said, touching her face. "Please be my wife for one more night."
"Please," Hermione said. "Please be my husband for one more night."
Ted and Hermione Caroline Lupin made love two more times, fighting sleep for as long as they could. At four in the morning they were finally overcome.
Victoire Weasley didn't visit Ted's dreams that night.
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When he awoke, Hermione Caroline Granger was gone, and Ted Lupin faced the rest of his life.
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