Moonrise || Harry Potter Twilight Crossover || FanFiction

Chapter Twenty-Six: Hermione's POV

CHAPTER TWENTY-SIX:

Hermione's POV:

Alice walked into my bedroom, slowly. Neither of us spoke as she kneeled beside the bed we'd made love on, in the space Harry had occupied just moments ago. Still silent, Alice dipped her hand into the handbag slung over her shoulder and pulled out the long, slender stick of wood I know so well.

She held it out on her palm, and I accepted my wand, gratefully, stashing it under my pillow, before reaching back to Alice and gently grasping her still outstretched hand in my own two warm ones.

My beautiful pixie-vampire looked unkempt, something shockingly unusual for her. Her normally carefully styled hair was hanging limp around her face, her eyes were black with Thirst, as if she hadn't fed for days, the circles under them a deeper, more bruised-looking purple then I'd ever seen, and her designer clothes were rumpled, as if she'd worn them for days. I spoke up first.

"Are you angry?" I ask her, timidly, and I'm terrified of her answer. Alice sighs, and looks down at our clasped hands, our fingers entwined, locked together tight like we'd never let go.

"I was a little," she admits, "but mostly because you scared me so, so much. First you looked so terrifying, like some kind of terrible, beautiful goddess of fire, but then you just collapsed and you were bleeding and bruised and all cut up, which was my fault, and I couldn't get you to wake up. A couple of hours after Carlisle put in the stitches you woke up for a few minutes, but you didn't even remember what happened at first. And then you went to sleep and didn't wake up for three days. The longest three days of my life. And I swore to whatever deity that may exist that if I got you back, if you woke up again, I wouldn't waste even a second been angry at you. All I wanted was to be in your arms and for you to be in mine so I could tell you I love you."

Tears were flowing down my cheeks as she spoke, as her words registered. She loved me. Alice still loved me. And she wasn't angry. Alice's mouth pressed against mine, cold as snow, so strangely inhuman, and yet still the purest touch I'd ever felt.

I really, truly understood kissing in that moment for everything it was, the intimate, trusting sharing of affection in the closest touch.

There were stone arms wrapped around me, holding me up. At some point I'd dug my nails into Alice's back, clinging on to her with a desperation that frightened me. But I shouldn't have worried, didn't need to, because Alice never pushed me away, just let me kiss deeper, let me revel in the contact. Kissed me back with the same desperation to be as close as physically possible until I was breathless. And even then she kept holding me, kept kissing me as I drew back for air, planting soft, affectionate pecks around my mouth, my cheeks, my chin until I was almost drowning in the love offered up to me.

It was being screamed at me without words, enough to fill the room, the kind of love that could not only not be denied, but eradicated the idea that it could have ever been in doubt.

I was crying, I realized, but Alice kept holding me close, kissing me deep before pulling back to rest her forehead to mine.

"I'm a witch," I tell her, the words practically spilling out of my mouth, almost without any conscious thought. "I've known since I was eleven, and I was notified that I'd been accepted into a school for witchcraft and wizardry called-" A cold finger presses against my lips, silencing me.

"I made you a promise," Alice says, softly, "you don't have to tell me anything until you're ready. I'm just so glad you're okay." Her perfect, chiming voice cracks slightly, and I take a deep breath, pulling my forehead back from hers so I can look her square in the eyes.