Summary: Hermione doesn't understand why things have changed between Harry and herself. Will she continue on the way it is, or will she try to fix things? After much thought, she finds her answer.
Disclaimer: I obviously don't own Harry Potter, or anything from the Harry Potter universe. If I did, do you really think I'd be writing fan fiction?
Author's Note: I know this isn't very happy, but life isn't happy all the time, is it? I'm thinking of writing a sequel (Harry's point of view possibly), but right now it's just a one-shot. Let me know if you liked and if you think I should continue. Thanks for reading.
The scarlet sheets are pooled at my waist as I sit on my bed with my back supported by the wooden headboard. Hangings, that match the sheets, are pulled all around me. A sliver of moonlight, let in through a gap in the hangings, cuts through the inky darkness. I feel dazed, but as usual, thoughts are running wild in my head. More specifically, one thought is running through my mind, over and over.
What happened?
I'll never understand it. I'll never understand how something so strong could fall apart so quickly. No matter how many books I read, I doubt I'll ever find the answer I'm looking for. I'll remain oblivious to everything that has happened, and my life will be consumed by my quest to find understanding.
Two years ago everything was fine between us. We were best friends, there for each other no matter what.
Now nothing seems right. He passes by me in the hall as if he's never seen me before in his life.
Ever since the beginning of our sixth year things haven't been the same. He returned to school that year a different person. I'm not sure if it had something to do with Sirius' death or not, but whatever the cause, it meant he pushed me out of his life, which broke my heart.
The day I confronted him about what was wrong had been the worst day of my life.
"Harry," I said softly, as I sat down across from him at the small table, "can we talk?"
He glanced up from the parchment he was scribbling on and nodded slightly before returning his attention to his work, dipping his quill in the ink. His expression was unreadable, but I got the familiar feeling that he hadn't wanted me there. A feeling that tied up my insides and made me want to cry, hoping that if I cried long enough, all my hurt feelings would pour out with my tears, to stain my cheeks for a while, before disappearing forever.
I licked my lips and inhaled slowly before speaking. "Harry," I repeated, "lately, something has been," I paused, "different." I searched for better words to describe what was happening, but was left with nothing.
Harry stopped scratching his quill over the parchment and looked up at me. "How so?" He asked, although I was pretty sure he already knew.
I broke free from his gaze and started studying my hands. I felt so uncomfortable talking to him, and I had never felt like that around him before. "I, uh," I stammered. "You just never seem to want to be around me anymore." The words came tumbling out of my mouth very quietly.
I felt his eyes piercing into me and I looked up at him. His expression was blank, but his eyes were full of anger. I shivered slightly. Anger wasn't something I was used to seeing directed at me from Harry, and I didn't even understand what he could be angry about. I was starting to regret saying anything.
I waited a few moments for him to say something, but he just continued to glare at me. So, finally, I spoke again. "Every time I'm around, you have an excuse to leave. Are you," I hesitated, not really wanting to ask the question, for fear I didn't like the answer. "Are you mad at me?" I stared at him, urging myself to keep eye contact, but wanting to look away from those unfamiliar eyes.
Time moved by slowly, the noises of the common room filled my ears with a dull roar. I could feel my palms becoming clammy, and my mouth felt parched. After what seemed like an eternity, he spoke. "Maybe, Hermione, I'm just busy. Maybe you're not the only person in my life that matters. Maybe you should stop being so selfish and controlling and let me spend time with other people." His voice was rising slowly as he spoke. "Maybe it's your fault things are different now." He stood up quickly from the table, almost knocking the chair over behind him.
I shook slightly as his words hit me. I didn't know what was wrong with him. Did he really feel I was trying to control him? I opened and closed my mouth, unable to find words.
"Don't even bother trying to say anything!" He shouted at me. People all around the common room were starting to look at us curiously.
Tears were starting to form in my eyes as I watched Harry gather his stuff from the table. I was in complete shock, and I was having trouble believing that Harry, my best friend, could say those things to me, and without reason.
He turned to look directly at me. "Just stay away from me, Hermione," he whispered.
Then he turned to leave, but not before I thought I saw his eyes flash apologetically at me, but I may have been seeing things, because before I knew it, he was gone.
After that day, things turned awkward. No longer could I walk into a room without worrying he was going to be there. No longer could I spend time with my two best friends, because now, I only had one. But even that didn't last for long.
Ron had been pulled into the middle, and eventually, he sided with Harry. I knew he would. He was still my friend, but only when Harry was busy.
Losing Ron as my close friend had hurt, but not as much as it hurt when I lost Harry. When I lost Harry I wasn't just losing a friend, I was losing the one person I ever loved, even if he wasn't aware of that.
Now, as I sat in the soft moonlight, I pushed all my thoughts about the past out of my head. They didn't matter. All that mattered was the present.
I reached my hand out and felt the soft hair that belonged to the raven-haired boy laying on my bed, his head resting in my lap.
I sighed to myself as I ran my fingers gently through his hair, trying to enjoy the last few moments before morning broke and I would have to face reality. I knew before too long I'd be regretting what had happened the previous night, just like I always did. But, I had let it happen again, and I knew it wouldn't be the last time I did.
Every two or three weeks, since Christmas break of our seventh year, Harry would show up at my room looking completely lost. I'd silently let him in, knowing enough not to speak, afraid that I'd scare him away if I did.
The first time it had happened I hadn't truly believed it wasn't some cruel dream.
I had been sitting on my bed, reading, when I had heard a soft knock on the door. Most people had gone home for Christmas. I had stayed in hopes to catch up on my never-ending pile of homework. I wasn't sure whom I was going to find when I pulled the door open. Harry had been the last person I was expecting, though. I had assumed he had gone to The Burrow with Ron for Christmas.
Words had been lost, I didn't know what to say, but I knew that was okay with him. I moved out of the way and let him into my room. After I had closed the door, I felt his hand on my shoulder, and I shivered under his touch, feeling, for a brief moment, that everything I had been missing, had been found.
When I turned around to face him, I was startled by what I found. There was no trace of anger apparent in his eyes. Instead, there was something I had never seen in his eyes before, at least not so clearly. I wasn't able to put my finger on what it was, but I knew that I never wanted it to leave.
I stood staring into his eyes for a long while, until suddenly he moved toward me, pulling me into his arms.
I breathed deeply, taking in his scent. I had missed it so much. I held onto him with all my strength, pulling myself as close to him as I could, trying to rid any space that had ever been between us.
I had dropped into a sort of dream, unable to decipher what was real and what wasn't. Thoughts had run violently through my mind as I attempted to sort through everything.
Was he really there? Had the past year all been a horrible nightmare? Was he going to leave me again?
It wasn't until warm air blew gently across my exposed neck that I finally focused on reality. Harry was whispering something, but it took me a minute to turn the sound of his voice into words I could actually understand.
"I need you," he had said, his voice full of desperation.
Those three small words had been the only thing spoken that night, but they were the most beautiful words I had ever heard anyone say.
He then kissed me. Kissed me with passion and fire, and I attempted to pour all my emotions into him, welcoming his taste, trying to memorize it so that I'd never forget that moment.
It wasn't long after that kiss that I had given everything I had to him, knowing the whole time that there was no way I could have turned him away, even if I had wanted to.
I had been amazed by how fast someone's clothes could just be various forgotten garments scattered across the cold stone floor.
I had been slightly disturbed by how easily I gave into him.
I had been bewildered by how I had ever lived without Harry.
His every touch made my body shiver pleasantly. I anxiously waited for our bodies to permanently fuse together, even though I knew it wasn't possible. We fit together so well, like two pieces of a puzzle. Even though I knew innumerable pieces of our puzzle, most of them from the past two years, were missing, I still felt whole. He completed me.
Many times after that we'd play the scene over and over again, and then we'd end up like we were now.
I never slept well on those nights, I wanted to remember every moment, and I cherished every second with him, because I knew, once the sun appeared it wouldn't be long before he left, and then things would return to the way they had been before that night many weeks ago. Once again he'd pass me in the halls, never acknowledging that I was there. I might as well have been wearing his invisibility cloak.
For days after our midnight meetings I'd feel lost, and I'd hate myself for giving into him so easily. But then he'd come to me again, and I'd do it all over.
I want to tell him I love him, but I know he doesn't want to hear that. I never speak to him. I stay silent. If I ever allowed myself to utter even a single word, I know I wouldn't be able to stop myself after that. I'd end up telling him everything I feel inside of me, and I'd scare him away forever, and that is something I couldn't handle.
I often imagine what life would be like if I turned him away, moved on, and found someone else. Someone I could spend the rest of my life with. Someone who would love me in return. And someone I could have a family with.
I know these are things I can never have with Harry. I had once hoped, that maybe in the future, I could have a normal relationship with Harry, but soon realized that it wasn't probable. Harry was too broken to be normal. All I can have with Harry are these scattered meetings. Even after we graduate from Hogwarts in a couple months, I am sure I will find Harry at my doorstep, because, like he says every night he visits, he needs me.. and I need him.
The light streaming into my sanctuary with Harry is starting to lighten, and I know sunrise is only minutes away. I run my hand through Harry's hair again, knowing that this is the way it will always be, because I'd rather spend one night with him, dreading daybreak, knowing that for a short time, he was mine, than spend the rest of my life with someone else.