*Disclaimer: I, against my best wishes, am NOT British. Therefore, I am aware that some of my descriptions and perceptions are inaccurate. Also, I, against my best wishes, do not own Harry Potter or anything associated with the series. By all means, if I get something wrong, TELL ME. :) *
The tranquil night displayed none of the intensity that lay beneath the bare London lamps. A lone owl softly hooted in a near tree, almost whispering into endless darkness. To normal people, muggles, this happening wasn't even remotely noteworthy as the city slept in peace. But to the two star-crossed lovers, this would be where it all began.
Hermione hadn't even noticed the owl as she swiftly walked home after a long visit to her sickened father in the corner hospital known among commoners as Deaths Doors. Wiping a stray tear, Hermione turned the corner unaware of the young man desperately trying to match her quick strut. Heaving heavily, Harry finally reached her just in time to catch her crestfallen body before she crashed to the ground, unable to sustain her burden any longer.
"Harry! Harry…w-what are y-ou…wh-where did you…come from…oh Harry," she wept as he gracefully lifted her into his loving arms while taking a seat on an abandoned step.
"I heard about what happened to your father. And I knew that Ron just left to go visit Charlie so I thought that I would come see how you were holding up," he paused allowing her to process the information. But after a few moments of utter silence, he continued, "I arrived at the hospital, and thought that maybe you and your mom needed time alone so I went to grab a bite to eat and when I got back," his voice fading as he mindlessly shifted her in order to wrap his coat around her shivering body, "they said you had left…so I," he stopped when he saw her face contort in pain and her mouth open followed by an abrupt close.
"I…I…I have t-to tell you so-some-something," she choked out. Harry patiently waited for her to continue, slowly standing up and beginning to walk towards her apartment, just two blocks away, with her cradled in his arms.
To his surprise, she immediately stopped him, basically screaming in his ear. "NO."
Regaining his balance, after slightly stumbling, he cautiously asked, "No? No, what?"
"No. Don't take me there. I...I…This is what I...I need...to tell you…," Hermione croaked. Again Harry waited, inching toward the row of apartments he knew all too well, having visited it too many times in the last six months, after the war ended.
"Ron didn't just go to visit Charlie. R-Ron left be-be-because we broke u-up…" more tears rolled off her angelic face, "last week we had a huge fight…and he kept...he said...he...said...it just became a screaming match so I said...but it, he, we just couldn't...and he decided to go out of town...as…as…as I moved out," and with that she buried her head deep into Harry's scrawny chest, relishing in the fact that he was there.
Harry astonished by the proclamation of his best friends' apparently failure of a relationship; backed up onto the abandoned step and reclaimed his seat. Harry and Hermione shuddered. From the cold, or from the pain, or from the shock, neither of them knew.
Desperately wanting to break the silence, Harry started but he was unsure of what to say, "I'm sure he'll come around. I'm sure that he will realize...no he has already realized that he misses you and both of you will fix..." Harry stopped as he felt Hermione slipping away, her breath uneven as ever and her tears pouring buckets from two of the prettiest eyes Harry had ever seen. Barely audible was Hermione's, "No," as she clung tighter than ever to Harry's soaked cardigan.
"Anyway, I….I found you. And I'm here for you," he practically barked, yearning to make her tears go away. "I can help you move out and look for an apartment, but in the meantime, we can go to the apartment that you bought with Ron until we figure everything out."
This earned him another firm, "No."
"I…I can't…I can't be in that wretched place that holds all of the fights, and abusive language, and disloyalty of my…one of my best friends…of the supposed love of my life…of the man that I waited four years… of the man that makes... me feel like I am nothing, a waste of space…of the man who walked away without a second glance...I just can't," Hermione finished exasperated from the overwhelming pain that filled her broken heart.
Again they sat in silence; Harrys' mind scouting through every possible option available to him that could bring his friend out of her sorrow, Hermione trying to piece herself back together. Finally as the clock struck midnight, Harry left the step, hopped on the last trolley to Brentford, and carried Hermione five miles to his flat, relying on the moonlight to guide him home.
Upon arrival, Hermione was soundlessly asleep in his comforting arms, allowing the smallest of smiles to grace Harry's weary face. He eloquently laid her down on top of his massive queen-sized bed, after tripping over discarded items strewn throughout his flat. Quiet as a feather, Harry slowly began to back out of his room until he was abruptly stopped by Hermione's hand tugging him toward his bed. Contemplating this cumbersome choice, Harry reluctantly climbed in bed alongside her before Hermione began readjusting herself. It wasn't long before both of them peacefully drifted off to sleep, in the arms of the other, letting all their woes float away as they slept, allowing their hearts to beat as one. It was divine perfection.
If only it could have lasted.
The next morning, Hermione woke up to the smell of freshly baked English muffins, and hot chocolate. Following her nose, she walked into the kitchen, straight into Harry who was carrying a large tray with a variety of breakfast foods that he "miraculously" managed not to spill.
"I was getting ready to bring you food. It was supposed to be a surprise" he exclaimed, feigning disappointment.
"OH. Sorry." Hermione sarcastically replied, almost letting a smile brighten her face before her heart sent a wake-up call. Harry smiled though, hoping that her response was a sign of progress. Witnessing Harry smile, Hermione dropped her gaze to the ground before slowly walking over to the couch, in Harry's relatively clean living area.
"Hey, I remember this couch. I picked it out for you, yea. I remember because it reminded me of our summer together. I didn't know you actually bought it." Harry watched from the doorway, enjoying Hermione ramble on about his couch.
"I didn't know you bought it. I thought you got the couch that Ginny picked out...even though...I guess... you guys were already...drifting apart by then...so...but still," awkwardly trying to get off the topic, Hermione sat on her hands to keep them from nervously picking at her hair.
"Nah. I liked this one. It feels...right." Harry chimed as he set the tray on his coffee table. "Sorry, the kitchen is so messy. I guess I always eat on the go." Harry shrugged, closely watching Hermione survey the food. He had made her favorites, or something close to that, he thought. Harry was watching her so closely; he slightly jumped when she wrapped her arms around him, muttering a "Thank you" in his neck. All Harry could do was smile. This morning had gone even better than he had planned.
Unfortunately, good fortune didn't last long. Around dinnertime, Harry came home from work to find Hermione curled up on the sofa, crying.
"What's happened? Mione, what happened today?" Harry tried to keep a level voice as he dropped his overcoat and rushed to hug his friend. He got no response other than an elongated sniffle. They sat like that until dawn, just rocking back and forth.
The phone sounded, causing Harry to jump up from his now almost routine position next to Hermione on the couch.
"Hello." He whispered, desperate to not wake Hermione after she cried herself to sleep for eighth time in approximately five days. Night and Day, Harry heard her crying. Each cry more painful than the last, for both Harry and Hermione.
"Hello?" Harry repeated. Nothing. He was hanging up, when he heard a muffled yelp.
"Ouch. Hold Up..."
"Um...Okay."
"Harry? Harry, still there," the voice sounding painstakingly like a Weasley. A female Weasley, i.e. Ginny Weasley.
"Yea. Still here." Harry nervously looked over his shoulder as Hermione restlessly tossed on the couch.
"Hey. It's Ginny. AND GEORGE," Harry jumped at the unexpected shout. "Hush. Hush. It's Ginny and George. We were calling because Charlie said that Ron visited him...alone," Ginny dragged out. Before Harry could respond, he heard a tussle happening on the other end, so he waited until he heard quiet, followed by George screaming into the phone.
"HARRY. WHY WEREN'T YOU"
"Bollocks, George. You're worst than Ron." Harry chuckled as he squished himself into a corner of the living area, leaving Hermione's mangled body on the couch, just in his line of sight.
"Harry. Why weren't you with Ron when he visited Charlie, and where was Hermione, haven't seen her in a while? But where were you? Ron doesn't do things, by himself! Come on, I want the dirt. Was there a fight? Did he get fired from the team? Did he spaz? What happened? "George questioned fiercely, but in his defense he did it in a hushed tone.
"Gosh, George! Give him time to answer!" Ginny reprimanded.
"Thanks. So the first question was...oh right. I was unaware that Ron was visiting Charlie until Hedwig [yea that's right] brought me his letter when he arrived. As for Hermione, I think you need to talk to your brother. As a matter a fact, I need to talk to your brother...because Hermione has been crying her eyes out for an entire week and all I've gotten is that they broke up. Do you know anything about..." George and Ginny interrupted him, enthusiastically badgering Harry for more information,
"Really are you serious?" Ginny growled.
"You've got to be kidding."George puffed.
"You can't be serious." Ginny repeated in a tone of dismay.
"They probably had a petty fight and Ron, like a wimp, stormed out. And I love Hermione but she can be quite sensitive and annoying at times." George added.
"George. That's rude. Something serious might have happened if Hermione's been crying and Ron left. They loved each other. Be more considerate of people sometimes, not everybody can brush things off as a joke like you." Ginny lectured.
"Sorry, Mother. Didn't know I couldn't speak freely. Oh, wait. I Don't Have To Listen To MY Little Sister. Soooo, I think that everybody should just calm down. They'll be fine." George stated, apparently receiving some sort of smack from Ginny as Harry faintly heard an "Ow."
Harry laughed but soon regretted it as he peaked and saw Hermione mumbling names in her sleep as tears ran down her face.
"Hey, guys. I'll talk to you later. I gotta go, Hermione needs me. But call me if you find out anything from Ron."
In unison, they both shrieked "Hermione is at your house, right now. It's going on ten o'clock, isn't it?" But Harry promptly dropped the phone, to barely catching Hermione as her constant tossing propelled her off the couch. Luckily, Hermione never showed signs of consciousness as Harry carefully carried her from the living area to his bedroom, softly laying her on the lavender sheets. Gently moving a stray hair off of her face, Harry recognized the names Hermione kept repeating in her sleep.
"Daddy, Mummy, Harry, Crookshanks. Daddy, Mummy, Harry, Crookshanks. Daddy, Mummy..."
Harry soothingly rubbed her shoulder as he absentmindedly hummed the first verse to "You'll Be in My Heart." Immediately Hermione's breathing evened, and her face softened. Harry's heart fluttered as a long-awaited smile graced Hermione's face just before she breathed out, "I love you, too."
Harry, shell-shocked, hovered over the bed, unsure of how to react. At first, Harry wanted to think nothing of it, he wanted to brush it off as a mere outburst. But Harry knew Hermione's history of whispering unspoken truths held within her heart while she slept; reluctantly recalling the incident 6th year that clued him in on her feelings for Ron. This left him at lost for what to do in the current situation. He had known Hermione for almost eight years, she was one of his best friends. She was his confidant, and advisor. She was a necessary part of his life and he would quite literally go to any length to make her happy. But never had he even entertained the thought of them being more than friends. Standing beside the bed, he recalled the incident at the beginning of the summer that nearly ruined his friendship with Ron. But even then when Ron had voiced his suspicion that Hermione and him were becoming more than friends, almost instinctively he denied it.
Hermione is just, Hermione and I am just, Harry. There was never a Hermione and me, but that didn't mean that there couldn't be in the future. With this thought, Harry practically bolted out of the room. Catching his breath in his study, he rested on his couch and reprimanded himself.
No. No, there will never be a Hermione and me because there is a Hermione and Ron and it is my job to fix their broken relationship so that it stays that way. But in the back of his mind he couldn't help but think, maybe it wasn't meant to be Hermione and Ron. This is the second time in less than six months that Hermione was crying because Ron had left, leaving me to console her.
Harry tried desperately to throw that thought out of his mind. Struggling, he decided to go for a walk.