Speak the Words

An: One-shot to ease my writer's block. Enjoy.

Harry watched her from across the room, the fragile, broken thing he knew, deep beneath the heartache, to be Hermione Granger. She sat with her legs drawn up to her chest, curled in a chair by the fire, her eyes listless even as the flames flickered and reflected off of the brown-amber flecked irises. A single tear stole its way down her cheek like a thief in the night.

Hermione didn't like to show how hurt she was in situations, so Harry knew she have been quite hurt to even show one tear. It tore into his chest like physical pain, to see her like this. He had known her for years and he loved her so much.

He had loved her for a long time. He had fallen for her before even he could realize it, and by the time he did realize he was falling, he had already hit the ground. He knew he couldn't love her. He knew Ron fancied her, and he didn't want to break up their friendship. So he decided to keep quiet. Smile and nod and pretend you aren't yearning to hold her, to love her. Stop that thinking. You can't think that, not even for a second. She can never be yours. So just stare ahead with a smile and show nothing of the already doomed love eating you up from the inside out.

And so it had gone, up until now. Harry didn't show how he had felt for Hermione. He'd left her to Ron because that's what needed to happen, and tried hard to pretend he didn't feel anything but brotherly love for her by trying to be happy with others girls, because that was what was easier for everyone else. He had to be the hero on and off the battlefield, and while it was hell, he managed it.

And now what? Ron had left. There was a possibility they'd never see him again. So all of Harry's careful restraints, all of his hidden feelings, were for naught.

How bloody typical, he thought bitterly, as he sighed softly, still staring at Hermione, who had not moved in the slightest, nor shown any sign of having noticing him. Now she loves him too and he's gone and left her. Bloody perfect.

A small voice, a whisper really, situated in the back of his mind, stirred, relishing in a small hope of taking the opportunity to finally admit his love for Hermione, but Harry pushed it back. He always did. They may be alone, but taking the gamble and admitting how he felt may very well ruin everything, and he wouldn't risk that, not for anything. Perhaps he was not happy where he was, but it was better than not being with her at all.

Hermione had turned slightly away, perhaps subconsciously aware of herself crying for anyone to see. A hand went up to brush at her eyes. Harry shifted in his seat, suddenly fighting the impulse to get out of his seat and go to her. Impulse and logic battled furiously. Logic usually won in these battles, at least when it came to Hermione, but strangely, this time, impulse won.

Harry stood.

And walked over to where Hermione sat. She didn't look at him.

Until he extended his hand.

She stared up at him, disbelief slowly dawning her eyes. It wasn't love or happiness, but it wasn't sadness either, so he would take it.

He stood, still calmly extending his hand. Hermione's brown eyes searched his green, before slowly, so slowly, she took his hand.

Harry pulled her up, and took her other hand, pulling her gently to the middle of the floor. Hermione's face was a mask, careful, guarded, once more.

Harry knew he probably looked stupid. He knew he was risking everything. One misstep in this dance and he would lose it all. But in that moment, he didn't care. He swayed with her, pulling her around, anything to get a smile out of her, because Merlin, she was worth it.

Slowly, stumbling through the dance steps, Hermione learned to smile again. And laugh, as they twirled like tops around the tent. So naturally they moved, twisting, turning, laughing. Anything for a smile. Anything to forget.

They didn't realize until the song was fading away into the night how close they were. Their eyes locked. Brown on Green. Earth and forest canopy. Close. Closer. So close. Eyes locked for what feels like forever.

Now was the time. Harry felt the impulse, the voice in the back of his mind was screaming now, for the first time since he had first realized he was head over heels for her. SPEAK THE WORDS, they chanted. He knew what words to which the voice was referring. I love you. I love you Hermione.

His lips parted slightly. Now was the time, as their eyes locked.

Logic whispered this time, just before he gathered breath and spoke.

The song's over. It's time to let go.

He knew this was true. So he said nothing.

And she turned away.

Harry looked down.

It was for the best.

She would be happy without him.

But the question was, would he be happy without her?

He turned away. The song was over, and the words had died in his throat as he tried to forget the lyrics, ears silent to the music and his face a mask.