Title: Can't

Author: VWChica

Rating: PG

Summary: Courage is one thing. Courage when dealing with love is another.

Disclaimer: I don't own them. None of them. Ms. Rowling does. I am but a humble minion.

Author's Notes: Heartache. And not the type that you can fix with Pepcid AC. That's me right now. This is not a happy fic, I must warn. Fanfic has always been a place where I can escape to, where everything ends happily. It kind of tricks you. Real life isn't like fiction at all. It just sucks that I had to learn that fact the hard way.

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They lay there together, in comfortable silence. He was on his back, arms stretched, hands resting underneath his head. She was on her side, her head resting comfortably on his chest. The steadiness of his heartbeat comforted and calmed her like no other. She felt content here, loved. Safe.

For hours, they lay like this. She could see the gears turning in his head, for she saw right through those glasses of his and those emerald eyes. She was one of the few who saw all the way into his soul.

Three weeks. This was how long they had been seeing each other, in the darkness of the midnight common room, while all the others slept. Their relationship was innocent; the furthest they had done was cuddle and talk until they fell asleep, waking up at the crack of dawn and scrambling to their common rooms before any of their house mates became the wiser. It was their little secret. At times like these, they were the only two people in the world that mattered. It was the way they wanted it.

He shifted slowly, and she lifted her head off of his chest so he could do so, her ear already aching for the steady rhythm of his heart. He looked at her for a long time before he spoke.

"I don't know what to do, Hermione." he said with a sigh, eyes darting away from hers.

"What do you mean, Harry?" she inquired, voice sleepy.

"I... I can't do this."

A cold wave swept over her. She was sure that he was over it, and a knot formed in the pit of her stomach. Over before it started, part of her was arguing that she was being too pessimistic, but she knew that no good could come out of the words which he had just spoke. She knew him better than she knew herself at times, but she tried to play ignorant. Perhaps she thought it would be safer for her.

"Why... why do you say that?"

"Ron... I can't do this to him. He's like a brother to me. The fondest memories that I have are with him and his brothers. I can't... I can't risk that."

His voice was quiet, wavering slightly, as if afraid that she would hex him into the next lifetime. He wasn't sure why he was saying this, but he was on autopilot and could not abort, not once he had started.

"Well, what's to say that Ron would even care? From what it seems, he doesn't even want to have anything to do with me anymore. We dated for weeks before he ditched me, and now it seems as if he's avoiding me in the halls. It hurt at first, but I don't care anymore. If he wants to be a confused baby, then let him. I don't need him. I was confused myself, with my feelings... Maybe if you just asked him..."

"I can't ask him," he interrupted, "Don't you see? I can't risk doing anything to make things weird between us. What if I say something, and he gets all weird? I can't risk that. I can't risk my friendship. He's a brother to me."

She didn't know what to think anymore. It was over, over before it even started. She was devastated and angry at the same time. This wasn't the Harry she knew. Not the brave, loyal, amazing man she thought she once knew. He was acting something different, and the majority of her brain had a hard time grasping that fact. She turned away from his gaze, her honey- colored eyes burning with unshed tears.

She was angry at him; she was angry at herself. Stupid, she thought. She was fooling herself into believing that they could ever have something more. In her mind, she convinced herself that they did. The constant flirting, the late-night cuddling, she thought they had to mean something. She knew he wasn't very good at relationships, and that he was in no hurry to 'move forward' in one, but it was alright with her. She wanted the same things. In her mind, however, she had the promise that one day, things would be more. And now, he was ripping her heart open and taking that from her. The comfort was gone.

She felt like she was falling, and there was no safety net.

"Look at me, please," he asked in a near begging state.

She slowly turned to him, not fully looking him in the eyes, when the tears started to fall. One. Two. Soon there was no stopping them, and she no longer tried to hide them. Part of her was scolding herself on being so selfish. How could she ask him to choose between his best friend and his possible girlfriend. She didn't have that choice to make, she couldn't understand. She was just angry with him... how dare he not even want to ask, to find out? What if Ron didn't care, she thought angrily, why would he? He doesn't even talk to me anymore.

"I... I can't... lose you." she managed to say between sniffles, her voice caught in her throat, words hoarse.

"But you're not losing me," he said, "I'll always be there for you. I'll always be your friend."

Friend. That's all she ever could have. She was silly to think that anyone would want her as something more. Ron clearly hadn't, having gotten scared off by his own shadow after three weeks as her boyfriend. She thought she was sad after he became estranged, avoiding her in the halls, classes, the common room, striking up conversations with anyone around when he saw her approach, so he wouldn't have to talk to her. She had thought she found solace in Harry, and for a while, she had. She had grown so attached to him, they clicked like no other. And now she had to try to swallow his explanation. She was angry, it wasn't good enough for her. For him to not even try...

"So that's it," she asked bitterly, "you're just going to let it pass you by."

He looked at her, confused. "Let what pass me by?"

The death glare that she gave him then told him that was the wrong thing to say.

"You dolt," she shot at him bitterly. "Us. How... how could you? Lead me on, and then... and then tell me this. That you're giving up. Giving up without trying, without taking every chance. I was fooled, or maybe I was just being stupid. You said we clicked. We did. I know we did, and I know we could have something great. But you're just going to throw it all away without even an attempt."

Tears were flowing down her face rapidly, her attempts to swat them away long forgotten. Part of her was glad. See this, she thought, this is what you're doing to me. I hope you're happy.

He didn't know what to say. There wasn't much more that he could say, nothing to make things better.

Suddenly she found the room and the company to be very confining. With a hiccup, she stood and started toward the stairs that led to her dormitory. "I can't stay. I have to go."

"Wait, please," Harry begged from behind her, standing to his feet. He walked over to her briskly, not sure exactly what to do, but needing to do something. He got to where she was standing, and put his hands on her shoulders. She hiccuped again.

"I..."

"Don't say anything, Harry. I have to go."

With a semi-violent start, she dislodged his hands and ran up the stairs, holding back her tears until she was safe in her bed, with the curtains around her closed firmly.

He just stood there, at the bottom of the stairs, for what seemed like hours but was only minutes, completely lost.