A/N: Here's another one to bite the dust. Just kidding.
"Hermione, you have to come down here. It's Harry."
She dusted off the soot from the fireplace and looked around The Drinking Irishman. The pub was full today, as it was everyday. She tried to be inconspicuous, which was easy enough with the smoke, light, and general atmosphere of the place, as she charged her way further. She gave Dean a slight nod when she saw him by the counter. He smiled at her, and pointed at the private booth at the far end where Ginny told her where he was. At first, she was surprised when she received Ginny's message. She asked her how much he'd drunk, and she replied, "He stopped counting at twenty-four shots. I stopped counting after fifty-six." She sighed and thought to herself, why would Harry drink this much? By then, worry overwhelmed her, and before she knew it, she had already flooed over.
She saw him slouched over the table in that dark corner. She guessed the glasses were already cleared but he was holding onto a half empty Ogden's.
He stilled for a moment before taking a big gulp as if in celebration. "Ginny! You came!" he slurred, as he raised his bottle high.
She felt a slight pang in her heart when he called her Ginny. He never did that before, not once, not even by mistake. She shrugged the feeling off when she realized he didn't have his glasses on. Relief passed through her. She looked around for them and saw it with the lenses broken on the table next to him. She was about to point it out when he started talking again.
"I mean, you came back," he laughed, and took a sip. "Your hair reminds me of your brother."
So that's why, she thought. She wore her favorite red bonnet that hid most of her shoulder length hair. How ironic. She was about to take it off and tell him that she was Hermione but he beat her again.
"I would never tell Hermione this but," he leaned in conspiringly, although his direction was off a bit. "I hate Ron."
At that, she was stunned. Harry hated Ron? When did that happen? Why? There were so many questions floating in her head, so many she wanted to blurt out right that second. But she knew that if Harry found out that she was not Ginny, he wouldn't tell her anything. She waited patiently for him to continue.
"Surprised, huh?" he said, his tone was subdued. He stared at the bottle. "I'm sorry. He's your brother… Oh, where are my manners? Sit, sit!" He pointed at the many chairs around the table.
She stared at him for a moment before taking the farthest seat from him.
"I'm sorry. He's my first friend," he paused. "No, Hagrid's my first friend!" he found something funny in that statement. "Ron, Ron is my first best friend! I can always count on him, Ron. He's loyal. A true friend," he said quietly. She would've smiled at what he was saying, but she couldn't understand for the life of her why he would say that he hated his best friend.
"He would be always there for me, I know that. Ron, my best friend," he smiled at something. But his smile slowly turned into a flat line. "My best friend, Ron… I hate him because in three days," he started mentally counting, which was quite hard to do in his state, "No, two. Three!" he concluded with a triumphant smile. He lifted the bottle to his lips, and before taking a big swig, he whispered, "He'll marry my other best friend."
She stiffened at his words. No, she kept repeating.
"Hermione… my other best friend." His face was solemn when he said those words. He looked at the bottle again and twirled its contents. It looked as though the liquid mesmerized him into a trance. "Hermione. She never, ever," he emphasized the last word, "left my side. She's the most compassionate, caring, and down right stubborn girl you'll ever meet. You know, Ron left me twice before. Twice!" he held up two of his fingers in an effort. "But Hermione... she never did that."
Her heart was pounding so fast that she feared that it might stop any second. No.
He took a sip once more. "Did you know that Ron left us in a tent while hunting those blasted things?" he said, staring at an engraving on the table. He followed the lines with his finger. "He actually asked her to choose between me and him. And at that time I thought, 'she'll pick him. I'll be all alone. She'll pick him.' But she didn't. She stayed with me. I could see that Ron was furious. But at that moment, I didn't care. She picked me. That was all that matters."
Her breathing came in short puffs as she remembered those times, a few years ago. Please, no.
"She cried. A lot," he laid his head down on his other arm while he still played with the lines on the table. "I wanted to comfort her so much but I couldn't bring myself to it. It hurt because she was crying over him. I was scared. Some Gryffindor, huh?" he chuckled hollowly. "I used to dream about her. Who am I kidding? I still dream about her. Every single fucking moment. It took all of my will power to not do something while in that tent, or every single time I see or think about her."
Merlin, no…
He lifted his head up and rested it on his hand. His other hand was still tightly curled around the bottle. "I blame myself for this. I should've done something. I should've told Ron what I really felt when the opportunity came. It did, but I was too scared to admit it."
She couldn't take it anymore. She stood up, and stalked away from him, her patience gone. A few moments later, she came back with Dean in tow.
"Hey, Harry!" he said jovially. "It's getting late, I'll take you home."
"Dean?" he squinted his eyes, as Dean lifted him up, transferring Harry's weight onto his.
"Yeah mate. Ginny here told me you needed help." Dean gave her a pointed look.
"Thank you, Ginny." Harry slurred.
When they entered Harry's flat, Dean promptly led him to the couch. "You alright, mate?" he asked him. Harry nodded vigorously, which caused him to groan. Dean studied Harry for a moment and turned to look at Hermione. "Are you sure you could handle this?"
She gave him a nod and hugged him. "Call me if you need anything," he said to her. "G'night, mate," he said to Harry as he walked to the fireplace. Harry gave him a weak wave, and in a second, Dean was gone.
She stared at Harry for a long minute, and contemplated on what to do with him. He slumped on the couch, his head resting on its arm. He started talking again.
"Ron asked me if I loved her," she knew which her he was referring to. "I wanted to scream, to shout at him. But I couldn't do it. You know what I did? I told him I loved her. Like a sister. How stupid was that?"
She knees gave in which produced a thud when she sat heavily on the coffee table opposite him. Oh, Merlin.
"She was never a sister to me. I've been thinking of very non-sisterly things when it comes to her," he laughed, his eyes were half laden. "I think it started even before that blasted locket. Every night after that, I imagined what it would be like to kiss her like that. It almost killed me."
Tears were forming from her closed eyes. She couldn't take this.
"But I did. I kissed her, once." Her eyes opened and she could see a fond smile on his face. "The night before she woke up when she was attacked," It still pained her to think bout that. She was on a mission that night when they were suddenly ambushed by rogue death eaters. She knew she put up a good fight, but one of them caught her off guard. She was lucky she didn't get the AK after that.
"I sat by her bed every single night. I never left her side that week." His voice was quiet, like he was reliving the moment. "I couldn't even begin to describe how I felt when I found out what happened to her. It was like a part of me died, knowing I could've prevented it from happening." He sighed. "I remember staring at her face. She was beautiful, in every sense of the word, and I've been dreaming about kissing her every moment at that point and I just couldn't resist anymore. I remembered the only fairy tale I read, about Sleeping Beauty, and thought I should give it a try. That was my excuse for kissing her, if someone caught me," he smiled fondly. "So I slowly touched my lips with hers. It was better than I've ever imagined, although in my dreams she was kissing me back. She didn't wake up. But I didn't mind that. I decided I was going to tell her everything, how I felt and all the moment she wakes up." His smile slowly vanished. "She did the next day, but I was hours too late. When I came to see her, she was already engaged with Ron."
Please…
"I was too scared to admit it. I should've said something, anything to her," he fully closed his eyes, but not before saying, "I love her."
She sat there silently for minutes, hours, days even. She looked at him; the pain in her heart was unbearable. Slowly, she inched her way towards him until her face was close enough to his ear. "You can't do this to me. It's unfair." She whispered fervently. "You can't. I waited for you, Harry. I waited! But not once, ever! You didn't show anything towards me. I'm sorry, Harry. It's too late." Her tears were already flowing silently. "I love you. So much. With all my heart. With all of me. But I love Ron, too. It's too late, Harry. I'm sorry, so sorry."
She kissed him on his cheek, pouring her love through that single kiss. She knew it was her good bye to him, and she never wanted it to end. She stood up with a sigh, and got his glasses which she pocketed before they left the pub. A silent oculus reparo was muttered, and she left the newly repaired glasses on the table. She went to the fireplace with a heavy heart, picked up a handful of powder and disappeared out of sight.
Her 'I love you' before she left still hung in the air.
His eyes opened, tears freely flowing from his tired eyes. "I'm sorry too, Hermione. I'm a coward. With all my heart, with all of me, I love you."
A/N: Hate it? Love it? Personally, I think this is the best one I've written so far. I don't know, for me, this and Remember are my personal favorites, as well as the next not-yet-uploaded chapters of A Very Sirius Plan. So, you tell me. Please and thank you!
