Yeah, so this isn't really much of a plot to this. Just felt like writing and this just came out. Check out my Facebook page (guitar-goddess16) or feel free to review with your thoughts. This is an H/Hr story so just keep that in mind even though it gets off to a slow start.
"I suppose not," Harry hung his head and refused to meet Hermione's eyes. They both knew it. The question didn't need to be asked. Some things will always be there. Hurt lingers. Not only that, it resurfaces. When you think you've escaped it, it shows up again digging up all that pain and hurt you've stored away. Life was a cruel mistress.
Hermione beamed up at him which was odd because their conversation wasn't that of a happy one. Or had the scene changed? Harry couldn't tell. "I think that's a brilliant idea."
Harry woke up from his long night of sleep. He could tell he had dreamt but couldn't remember anything about it. He sat up in bed and stretched out his muscles. He leaned against the headboard and looked out the window. The sun was barely peaking up. It had to be very early still.
Honestly, he couldn't believe he was even up this early. Such behavior wasn't normally demonstrated by him. Like most normal people, he enjoyed sleeping in as late as possible and being lazy in the morning. After morning came work. And with work came a very dedicated Hermione.
*Knock* Harry ignored the knock and continued to give into his thoughts. Whoever was there would get the message and visit him later at a better hour. Who would even bother him this early in the morning?
Harry laid in bed and tried to relax. The war was over now. He should be ecstatic, cheerful, thankful, relieved! But he felt no different. He still felt like himself. But he did feel lighter, more optimistic in a way. Maybe that was because he achieved the impossible or maybe it was because he was just tired of being anything else or what he was expected to be. Or maybe dying and coming back to life is actually good for the soul. It certainly seemed to be so for Harry. He hadn't felt this at peace in, well….ever.
*Knock* For so long, defeating Voldemort was so out of reach. It was a whole different level of complicated. It didn't seem to be impossible, it was. But here he was leaning against his headboard in his bed as he contemplated the war that just ended.
Too many people died while at the final battle at Hogwarts. They would never go back to their families. Children would grow up without their parents; children would never get to grow into adults, friendships would be over. He thought about everyone who died for the cause.
He sighed and ran a hand thru his messy black hair. He couldn't afford to be thinking like that. He would only make things worse. Having a heart of remorse wouldn't bring anyone back. Nothing would bring them back.
*Knock* Harry grumbled and finally decided to stop ignoring whoever it was. He figured they would just keep knocking anyway. "Come in," He called to whoever was behind the door. He was really hoping it wasn't Ron. To be honest, Harry really hadn't sorted that huge mess out. There hadn't really been a good time to sit and think before the end of the war.
But he wasn't met by his redheaded friend. He was greeted by a witch standing in the doorway with bushy hair and soft brown eyes. He had grown to love the sight of her: Hermione. Most people would probably be sick of a person after seeing them every day (minus summers and some holidays) for years straight. But that only seemed to strengthen their friendship. They did everything together and faced only a few major fights over the years, none of which harmed their friendship for an extended time.
"I hope you don't mind," Hermione glanced down at her feet as she closed the door behind her, "I couldn't stay in bed any longer." Harry didn't find this surprising. They hadn't exactly been getting proper sleep when on the run and he was sure Hermione stayed up late on most nights to study or do other Hermione-like things. He figured that all those days had finally taken their toll and officially ruined any chances of her getting proper sleep or relaxation.
"Of course I don't," Harry shook his head. Hermione lifted her head back up and walked over to the bed and sat down next to Harry. "You couldn't sleep? Even after all that?" Harry asked after a few moments of silence.
"No," Hermione confessed, "I've had a lot on my mind." Harry nodded. He could relate to that. He had gotten many terrible and restless nights over all of his years. Having a dark wizard in your head could really do that to you.
"Need to talk about it?" Harry offered. He knew if Hermione really needed to talk about something, she would make it known. Hermione wasn't one to keep her opinions to herself all the time, especially to Harry.
"It would probably be best," Hermione agreed. She too leaned against the headboard. She drew her knees up to her chest and leaned her head back making a small thump when her head hit the board. "I just don't know how to say it."
"I can't imagine what would be so difficult that even Hermione Granger can't put it into words," Harry said playfully. She smirked and elbowed him in the side. She was actually glad that Harry was at least making an attempt to lighten things up which would normally just make her more annoyed.
"It's about Ron," Hermione said quietly. Harry's face dropped and Hermione sighed. She knew this would be a sore subject but there was only one person she could get advice from. There was only one person that was there and would understand. But Hermione didn't know the reason of Harry's upset. There's was much more to it than some hurt feelings.
"What about him?" Harry asked just as quietly. He never understood that. People seemed to find security in whispers even if there was no one around to hear for miles. Though, he was sure they're would be no comfort with this subject no matter how quietly they did talk.
"The relationship between us three, it'll never be the same will it?" She asked with no hope left in her voice. She knew in her heart things would be different. Some things couldn't be forgiven or forgotten.
"I suppose not," Harry hung his head and refused to meet Hermione's eyes. They both knew it. The question didn't need to be asked. Some things will always be there. Hurt lingers. Not only that, it resurfaces. When you think you've escaped it, it shows up again digging up all that pain and hurt you've stored away. Life was a cruel mistress. "But we can always try and if it doesn't work…I mean, what's the worst that can happen?"
"You're not the one expected to start a relationship with him," Hermione pointed out miserably. Her shoulders visibly slumped and her eyes stung. But no tears were going to come today. The war had taken them all away.
"You're the one who went and kissed him not me!" Harry said. Hermione gritted her teeth. That was not something she wanted to bring up. Being in a near death situation really made a person do some crazy things. Sure she did like him a couple years ago, maybe even a little so before he left, but things weren't like that anymore.
"I didn't really want to," Hermione said defensively, "I felt like I had to do something. I don't think I was my usual self." She leaned her head against Harry's shoulder, "I don't know Harry. I have no idea what I was doing."
"Yeah, didn't really seem like the Hermione I knew," Harry shifted uncomfortably. Girls were always a bit of a mystery to him so he didn't know if he was crossing some invisible line or something. He really didn't want to be on Hermione's bad side too. "I always assumed you would plan out a kiss months in advance and make a schedule about how to go about it once you're kissing him."
"Harry, it's too early in the morning to start an argument," Hermione told him, leaning more into him. He agreed and they both sank into a silence together. Hermione lifted her head and looked over at Harry who was staring at the ceiling, "What should we do?"
"Ignore him or accept him," Harry said sadly, "We can't do much more. What happens if we get into an argument? Someone is going to bring up his leaving. Is it fair to any of us?" Hermione shook her head, for once at a loss for words. Harry had problems with Ron over the years, particularly with the tournament in fourth year. He knew about having to move past people's shortcomings and continue the friendship. But sometimes, friendships can't be saved.
"I don't want to start something we can't finish," Hermione finally made up her mind. No words had to be said to elaborate further. They both knew. "It just seems proper that something should begin. We did just end an old era after all."
Harry was thoughtful about this though he didn't know why. He was never a truly thoughtful person. That was always Hermione's job. But this statement really tugged at his mind. Something should begin. It seemed fitting since so many old things just ended. Change was going to be engulfing them soon enough so why shouldn't they begin some of it also?
"We could if we wanted to," Harry smirked. Hermione glanced over at the black haired boy who wore a grin. She raised her eyebrows and tried to figure out just what he was talking about.
"I don't understand," Hermione shook her head, "We just agreed to leave Ronald to his own." She raked her brain for any connection to what Harry was talking about. She was not used to being the one in the dark.
"We could begin something," Harry told her with a wider grin and a sideways glance.
She knotted her eyebrows in confusion, "Of course, that's what we're discussing. I think what we are trying to figure out is what to begin. Honestly Harry, where have you been the past few minutes?"
Harry threw his head back slightly, which was hard since his head was resting against the headboard, and laughed. "No, no, that's not what I meant. Who knew the great and all knowing Hermione would be so dense about this."
"About what, Potter?" Hermione asked slightly annoyed. Insulting her intelligence at any level was a huge offense. It was a very low blow against the young witch. Her brains were something she took pride in and here he was just mocking her!
"I was trying to say this," Harry paused. He could always turn back now but after he said these words, things could never go back to normal. Well, normal wasn't a good word to describe that. Harry never experienced normal. "You and I, you know, should…possibly, only if you want too." He mumbled a few words but the meaning did reach Hermione's desperate ears.
"Oh!" Hermione's eyes grew in size. She blushed. She had finally understood. She was being dense. How could she not see that?
She blushed even more as she thought about it. The Boy-Who-Lived, the famous Harry Potter who defeated Voldemort had asked her out. No, that was wrong. That couldn't be.
Harry, the boy she grew to love, her best friend of about seven years, the boy who shoved his wand up a troll's nose for her, who stood by her side for everything and showed her more to life than just books and school. This was the Harry she rode Buckbeak with. That was the Harry she loved. And no matter how many girls wanted to date the Boy Who Lived, that's not who she wanted.
She wanted Harry.
Hopefully, this helps out my writer's block…Thanks for reading!
