AN: I got a netbook for Christmas, and am making a New Year's Resolution to update more often. And to talk to my family more often. But that's beside the point. As a reward, I'm offering up this drabble as an apology. Enjoy!
Disclaimer: I did not get my Christmas wish. I do not own Harry Potter, Pirates of the Caribbean, Glee, or Mark Salling. JK Rowling, Disney, FOX, and Mark Salling own them, respectively.
She is my best friend. She is my best friend. She is my best friend. These words are always circling around my mind. Just the idea of her makes my head spin and my heart race. But she is my best friend, who just happens to love my other best friend. And I have fallen in love with her.
I didn't mean for it to happen. In fact, I repressed those feelings for years in hopes that they would go away. How was I to know that love doesn't work that way? What experience did I have in that department?
I remember the first day that I realized I fancied her. She was just laying there, Petrified in the Hospital Wing. And I was sitting next to her, holding her hand and talking to her still form as I had done every day. It hurt that she was cold, that even if she could hear me, she couldn't respond. She was hallow, a shell of a once lively girl.
I tried to ignore the developing feelings. I knew that she could never feel the same way, even at the tender age of 12. But when she hugged me at the feast, I let myself hope. And that was my downfall.
I knew that it was more than a passing fancy in our third year. Even though we were fighting, I couldn't shake the fact that she turned in my broom because she cared about me. Just more figurative fuel for the fire. And when she helped me save Sirius, I knew that I cared far more than I should, as a friend or fancy.
Fourth year cemented it in my mind that I am in love with Hermione Granger. She was the only person who believed me from the get-go, and her small actions meant more than I would ever admit.
That night at the Yule Ball, she was just so beautiful. I knew then that she was the only person who I could have these feelings for. If only Ron hadn't come into the picture. No—I won't blame him for fancying Hermione, or for her reciprocating those feelings. I can only blame myself for not telling her how I truly feel.
"Harry?"
"Yes, Hermione?" I look at her with nothing less than absolute adoration and devotion in my eyes, two emotions that I can never see when Ron looks at her. Actually, there are a lot of emotions that he doesn't show. Not that I check or anything.
"Does this look alright?" she asks, stepping out from the fitting room. The white gown reaches the floor and hugs her torso and she just looks so beautiful that I want to cry. "It's that horrible? I knew it! None of these will ever do, and—"
"No, you're beautiful. Absolutely stunning." If only she is trying on these dresses because of me. That fact makes me want to cry even more. She was as good as lost to me.
"Do you mean it?" Hermione asks, uncertain.
"I would never lie to you, 'Mione." I can only guess she can see the truth in my eyes, because she gives me a watery hug and asks what she had done to deserve a friend like me. If only she knew how much I asked myself the very same question.