Secrets Don't Make Friends
It was the morning of the first day of school and the Hogwarts Express was full of students chattering excitedly, sharing tales of their summer vacation and enjoying their last few hours of education-free glory. In a compartment towards the end of the train sat three 7th year students with content smiles on their faces, each of them just happy to be with one another again for what they thought would be their best year yet. The red-headed young man was absentmindedly pushing a ginger cat away from the small owl on his lap while attempting to participate in an intense game of Wizard's Chess with his younger sister. A rather handsome young man with messy black hair and a scar on his forehead was admiring his snowy white owl while gazing at the passing scenery. And the young woman whose beauty had finally blossomed in the recent summer was sitting in the far corner with her legs stretched out in front of her, pretending to read a thickly-bound book while actually shooting frequent glances at the boy with the startling emerald-green eyes.
This moment, as insignificant and uneventful as it was, was one that the three friends would look back upon with the painful desire to return to. But some of life's lessons are less than glorious, and this year would prove to be full of them. Sometimes you slip and cannot be caught. Sometimes you trip and don't stop falling. And you can't go back and fix what you've broken. You can't take back what you've said. And you can't take back what you've kept hidden. Lies, deceit, and betrayal are not ingredients in the ideal recipe for friendship. This was the year in which they would learn the hard way that secrets don't make friends. And secrets don't keep friends, either.
Harry Potter had stepped off the Hogwarts Express with a broad smile on his face, happy to be back to the one place he felt he belonged. Now he sat with Ron and Hermione at the Gryffindor table in the Great Hall, watching, for the last time, the Sorting Hat shout out house names for the new first year students. He knew he was going to miss this moment, for it was the beginning of the end of this chapter in his life. As the students around him erupted in applause and cheers – the last of the first years had been sorted into their house – he forced himself to stop thinking melancholically. After all, he decided, he shouldn't be wasting these precious moments by pouting about their inevitable end. Instead he should embrace them and make the most of them by being happy while he can.
He looked across from him and saw Ron staring longingly at the plates of food that were now appearing before them and smiled to himself. That was definitely something that would be hard to forget – Ron's love for feasting. Ron felt Harry's eyes on him and looked up at him. "Fuah?" he said through a mouthful of food. Harry smiled and shook his head.
His eyes then fell to Hermione, who was seated beside him. She too hadn't started eating yet and had been looking around the room, thinking the exact same things that Harry was. Her eyes met his and she smiled gently. "Shall we dig in?" she gestured to the food that was now almost half gone. Harry nodded absentmindedly. He watched her reach for the bowl of mashed potatoes, admiring the freckles on her nose. She was really very pretty, he realized. The thing about being away from everything all summer was that when you were reunited with someone, the ways in which they'd changed become so clear and so shocking. This was definitely the case with Hermione. Harry was in awe of her. But he would just have to keep that one on the down-low.
Hermione looked over at him again and flashed him her brilliant smile. Harry returned a smile weakly, but was thinking to himself that he wouldn't mind it if something were to happen between them this year. He really wouldn't mind it at all.
Hermione crawled into her four-poster bed that night with a tangle of curious thoughts in her head. She was pretty sure Harry had been staring at her quite a bit throughout dinner. And the way he had smiled that shy little smile of his. She had seen it before, only when he'd been smiling at Cho. This time he was smiling at her. She wasn't quite sure if that meant what she wanted it to mean.
But did she really want it to mean anything? This was Harry, after all. Her best friend. Pursuing anything romantic in that direction could never be particularly safe. Yet at the same time, all she'd ever wanted was to love and be loved by someone she trusted and had shared deep things with. And who could she ever trust more than Harry after all they'd accomplished together?
This was definitely a mess.
But she was kind of getting ahead of herself, wasn't she? Here she was, thinking about love, of all things, when all that had happened was that he had smiled at her at dinner. He's allowed to do that, isn't he? He's Harry Potter. He'll smile at anyone he doesn't hate because he's nice like that.
Hermione pressed her face into her pillow. She wouldn't let herself get wrapped up in foolish hopes after something so small and insignificant. She wouldn't let herself become interested in her best friend. A friend is a friend, and a friend this good should not be mistaken with a potential boyfriend. She wouldn't let her friendship fall apart.