Hi, readers! A new story for all you Harry x Hermione fans, and I have written a Heron story to balance things out. Rated T. Disclaimer: I do not own Harry Potter!
Hermione sat at her desk, quill poised expectantly above parchment. She had no idea how to write what she wanted to. She had no idea how to express her feelings in words. She wasn't even sure if she would send it. All she knew was that she needed to get these things out before she exploded. It was hard enough, being engaged to Ron, especially since she was in love with someone else. But, she couldn't just break his heart. She would never forgive herself.
So here she was, breaking her own and bending over backward. She would have to try hard to forget her feelings for Harry, but it was manageable. She would have to cope and deal with the consequences.
Dear Harry, she finally wrote,
I have no clue as how to start this letter. How can I express what I feel for you in words? I suppose I should start from the beginning. When I first met you, I knew who you were, and I expected you to be a certain way, like Malfoy, but I was wrong. You were sweet and kind, and I took a liking to you, but we weren't friends. When you saved me from that troll, I saw something in you, something that I still see, and that's the potential you have. You went on to do great things, Harry. I knew, from the start, that were weren't just Harry, but an amazing wizard. When you stopped Quirrell from getting the stone, you saved me, again. You saved everyone, even though you didn't realize it. I fell in love with you, Harry. I'm still in love with you.
In second year, when you told Ron and I that you could speak to snakes, and everyone suspected you, I didn't. I knew that you were pure, and when I became petrified, you went down into The Chamber of Secrets and saved Ginny from a terrible fate. And you saved me again. You saved us all, Harry.
In third year, I was running all around the place, while you had a supposed murderer on your tail. I was busy worrying about my classes and Scabbers, while you dealt with the betrayal of Sirius Black. You saved him, and you saved Buckbeak, and you uncovered the truth. You were a hero, but no one knew, and you were content with that.
Fourth year, you had to do The Triwizard Tournament, and you were just fourteen years old. I was busy worrying about Krum and Ron, and who put your name in the Goblet to actually worry about you. You were having trouble, and I didn't see it, but you were brave. A Gryffindor brave. You faced Voldemort, and lived, again. And you saw Cedric, your friend, die. I can't imagine what that's like, Harry.
Fifth year, I blame myself the most. Why didn't I see that you were hurting? All I knew was that you were angry, and I blamed you for that, Harry. I didn't know, and when you were trying to explain how you felt, I wouldn't listen. I didn't see anything. I was blind. But you, you were not. You saw Umbridge. You saw Voldemort. You fought him, and you saved me from that awful curse at the ministry. You opened the world's eyes, Harry. Without you, we wouldn't have won the war.
Sixth year, you knew that Malfoy was a Death Eater, and you learned about Voldemort. You had some bumps along the way, sure, with The Half-Blood Prince, and then you fell in love with Ginny. She'd been waiting for you, all that time. You were meant for her, and she was meant for you. You were soul mates, and still are.
After the war, I looked back and realized how you were always there with me. Ron wasn't, but you were. You cooked food for me. You comforted me when Ron left. He was my best friend, and he broke my trust and my friendship. But you stayed with me. You got me through the dark times. When Ron came back, I hate to admit it, but I was angry. I'd gotten over him leaving, and was ready to push him back out again. But you took him in with open arms, like the good person you are.
I don't deserve you. I'm getting married, and I'm writing to another man about how much I love him, not my fiance. You're getting married, too. I know you don't love me like I love you, but I wished for a long time, that you would turn and see me here. That you would kiss me, and make love to me and whisper into my ear with that lovely voice of yours how much you care about me. But that can never happen. It shouldn't happen. But you've always been my hero, Harry. You will always be my hero, and I love you for it. I love you, as far as everyone else will know, like a brother. But you and I will know that I love you deeper than that. I hope you come to understand that, Harry, I want you to be happy. So, be with the woman you love. I'm not saying you have to choose, because I believe that you already have.
Love, Hermione.
Hermione looked down at the letter, satisfied, and went to tie it on the leg of her owl, when something flashed in the corner of her eye. On the mantle, there was a picture of Ron and Hermione, hand in hand, walking on the beach right before he proposed to her. Ginny took the picture.
Looking back at the letter in her hand, Hermione made her decision. Pulling out her wand, the letter turned to ashes with a puff of smoke. She scowled. Some secrets were better off kept.