Away From The Sun

This is the same fanfic I originally posted, just straightened up and more coherent now. Many thanks to my Beta, oldnwyz for taking the time to straighten up the mess I sometimes seem to make when I write. :) Any mistakes you still may see are all my own doing.


It\'s down to this
I\'ve got to make this life make sense...

She walked from the house, leaving the door open behind her, ignoring the cries of the man behind her, feeling the hand barely brushing her retreating back and sped up to get away - away from him, away from this life. She began to run, and was stopped short by his hand on her shoulder, turning her around to face him.

\"Hermione, where in the bloody hell are you going?\" His face had a confused, hurt look that seemed permanently fixed on it lately, and she shrugged off his hand quickly - something which only added to the hurt that seemed to shine from his eyes.

\"I told you.\" She kept her voice calm, though she clenched her hands into fists at her sides.

\"You need space - you can\'t marry me. You don\'t love me like that. Sure, you told me. But I didn\'t think you were serious.\"

\"Well I was.\" And without another word she turned her back on him once more and walked away. And this time he didn\'t chase after her. He just stood there, mouth slacked open just slightly, and watched the woman he loved walk away from him and the life they had been building together.


She didn\'t know where to go, not really. So she wandered most of the day. She felt like all eyes were on her - accusing her, chastising her for leaving him. But she couldn\'t stay anymore. She couldn\'t live with him and pretend everything was alright. Because it wasn\'t, and hadn\'t been for a long time. She had clung to Ron after Harry had died, they had both clung to each other. And it was comforting, but she had let it become more than it should have been. And she finally had, but now she was utterly alone.

She walked slowly, keeping her eyes trained on the ground in front of her most of the time. She didn\'t want to meet peoples eyes - didn\'t want to see if they were looking at her with disgust or pity.

She rounded a corner and bumped into someone. She murmured an apology and went to move around them, but stopped and lifted her head when she heard that familiar, soft voice speaking. \"Hermione? Are you alright?\"

She forced a weak smile and nodded, but his eyes were so good and kind, and his face held such a concerned look it broke her a little, and her nod turned to a shake of her head, and her smile faded as tears slowly began to slip down her cheeks. And as he did after Harry died, he opened his arms and enveloped her in a hug. She lay her head on his chest and sobbed, the familiar scent of cotton and chocolate and something deeper, richer, earthier coming from him - wrapping her up as much as his arms did. He made her feel safe and warm and loved.

\"I left him.\" The words were choked out between her soft sobs, and Remus hugged her a little bit tighter. When her tears had slowed a bit, he tipped her head back and smiled softly at her.

\"Come have some tea.\" Remus wiped her face off, and she nodded, and this time the weak smile that came wasn\'t forced. Tea with Remus was always so much more. A friendly ear, a strong shoulder to cry on, and a friend when she needed one the most. He held her again, softly stroking her hair, and without another word Apparated them both to his cottage - with a small pop they appeared in front of it, and she realized how much time she had once spent with this good, gentle, loving man in this place. And how much she had missed it.

\'Cause now again I\'ve found myself
So far down, away from the sun
That shines into the darkest place...

They had talked for hours. Well, she had talked, and he had listened, and held her while she cried, and kept her tea cup full and warm. When the sun had set, he had started a fire. When the fire didn\'t seem to be enough to warm the chill that had seeped into her body, he got a soft blanket and put it around her. When she grew hoarse from talking and crying, he had held her and everything felt better. When her eyelids dropped from exhaustion, he had carried her from his small sitting room and upstairs. He had taken off her shoes, and tucked her into his bed, and sat in the rocker in front of the window. Because somehow, he had known she didn\'t want to be alone. And she had slept, and he had not. He only watched her, the fingernail moon shining in the window over his shoulder.

She woke slowly, eyes blinking open, taking in the room around her one bit at a time. It was bathed in warm sunlight, and everything seemed to have a soft glow to it. She felt a warm breeze, and she turned her head toward the source of it - the open window, and looked at him sitting there, half asleep in the rocking chair. His hands were clasped on his chest, and his eyes were partly shut, and when he saw Hermione looking at him, he smiled.

\"Do you feel better?\" Again, that gentle, almost raspy voice. And she returned his smile with one of her own.

\"Yes.\" She pushed the covers back and sat up, running a hand through unruly brown strands, trying to tame her usually early morning mess.

\"It isn\'t as bad as all that, you know.\" He still sat there, eyes half shut, and his sleepy smile turned into a playful grin. He looked younger then - almost like the boy she imagined him once to be.

She walked over to him, and stood next to him, looking out the window. She felt him looking at her, and found that fact more comforting than she expected. The flowers bloomed everywhere in the small garden he tended to so lovingly, the roses climbed the trellis on the outside of the house, filling her nose with the rich fragrance that came from them.

\"Beautiful as always, Remus.\"

Looking at the flowers made her smile, and she remembered losing herself in the rich, cool dirt. Her nails always with dirt underneath them, the rich smell that seemed to hang on Remus constantly always in her nose as she dug and planted and grew. Remembered helping him plant and weed and watching things come to life because of her efforts. That had helped more then anything after Harry had died. Knowing that life was still happening, knowing that her life - and Remus\' life -- , didn\'t have to end just because Harry was gone.

He had stood so quietly she hadn\'t heard him, and when she felt the hand on the small of her back she gasped softly, but instantly relaxed, leaning back into the broad chest of this man - this good, kind man who had always been there for her for no other reason then because she needed him. And as she leaned against him, breathing deeply, both his scent and the scent of the roses that wafted in through the window, she tried to think - to remember why she had left the safety and calm of this place to go with Ron.

I\'m over this
I\'m tired of living in the dark...

He wrapped his arms around her and rested his head gently on top of hers. She could feel his heart beating, feel the slow rise and fall of his chest as he breathed, and then she realized why she had left. Ron had told her people were talking. The fact that she had lived with him for so long, a werewolf. She never left overnight, not even during his transformations. She knew it was because it was those times he needed someone with him more then ever. And he wasn\'t like he was when they were in school - he\'d never hurt her - he had more control then before.

But Ron refused to listen, accused her of falling in love with a former teacher. A man old enough to be your father. And she had denied it, but she had left - left with Ron. And tried to prove to Ron she loved him, tried to prove to herself that she had loved Ron. They were all the other had after Harry had died. And Remus had said nothing, just let her go. She thought that meant he felt nothing for her but friendship. She was young, after all. And Ron loved her.

But she could feel herself fading a little each day. Ron loved her. So she tried to love him back. She had moved in with him, and everyone had been thrilled. They were going to get married, and have children, and the first boy would be named Harry, of course. But she wasn\'t hadn’t been herself any more. Wasn\'t Hadn’t been Hermione.

She was Ron\'s girlfriend, poor dead Harry\'s best friend - but never herself. She couldn\'t sit down and read. She couldn\'t kneel on the ground and dig her hands in the cool, dark earth and ground herself anymore. And when she got quiet, he always tried to pull her out of it. But sometimes it wasn\'t what she wanted. Sometimes she wanted to be quiet, and to cry and mourn the boy who never got a chance to live. Sometimes she wanted to mourn the friendship she had pushed away to make Ron happy.

And when the moon was full, she wept, wept for herself and wept for the man she had left alone to make another happy. But she wasn\'t happy. So she left finally. And fate had led her back here. Back to the strong arms which held her, the steady presence which grounded her as much as the earth did. The flowers had been tended in her absence, the full moon had come and gone many times since she had left. But standing here it was like nothing had changed. And she knew now why he hadn\'t said anything when she had left.

She knew why he had let her go. At least she thought she did. For one of a few time in her life, she was unsure whether she was right. She knew she was wrong when she had left with Ron, but ignored the feelings of unease and wrongness that crept in. She thought that Remus had let her go because when you love someone - truly love them with everything you are, you don\'t force them to make a decision by making your own happiness a deciding factor. When you love someone, you love them and the choices they make, even if they hurt you. You love them enough to let them do what they need to do, even if it hurts you.

\"Remus?\" She kept her voice low, and kept her eyes locked on the scene outside the window.

\"Hmmm?\" His chest vibrated softly behind her, and she turned slightly in his arms until she was facing him.

\"Can I come back home?\" The tears were close to falling as she spoke, and her voice was thick with emotion.

His arms tightened around her and he nodded. Then the tears fell, and she laughed, and tilted her head back slightly, mouth open and inviting.

And he kissed her, and he tasted just like she knew he always would. Like chocolate and tea and a deeper, earthier taste that seemed to soak right into her and make her feel safe and warm and loved once again. And as his hands twined in her hair, and the kiss deepened, she felt everything drain away, until she was Hermione again. She was herself, and that\'s all she ever had to be with this man. And she knew then she loved him. And he loved her just as she was. And his arms were around her, and his lips were on hers, and nothing but the both of them - seperate but together - seemed to matter anymore.



\'Cause now again I\'ve found myself
So far down, away from the sun
That shines into the darkest place
I\'m so far down, away from the sun
That shines the life away from me
To find my way back into the arms
That care about the ones like me
I\'m so far down, away from the sun again...