Hermione knew she'd become a bit distant and that Harry had noticed.

'What's wrong?' Harry finally asked and he's pale, still injured from the tournament. The trembling in his limbs gives away the torture he fought through, lived after. The bags under his eyes highlight his lack of sleep and the sick pallor of his skin shows how he's yet to recover.

'Nothing,' Hermione replies quietly. They are alone here and a bug is trapped inside its jar; she has no fear of being overheard from anyone that her words aren't directed towards but Harry didn't deserve them. He had other things to worry about, with more pressing things to deal with.

He reaches up tremulously and his grip on her arm is weak. Harry had been incredibly irritated in the state he was left in but he was stubborn about it. If Madam Pomfrey didn't worry about him climbing the walls, he'd probably still be in the Hospital Ward. Instead he had a number of potions to consume in the morning and before bed. 'Have I done something wrong?'

'No,' Hermione is quick to reassure as frustration and guilt coil in her gut. 'Of course not.' He was, for better or worse, her best friend. He was short-tempered and didn't take his studies as seriously as she would have liked, Harry also had a bad habit of sticking his nose into things it didn't belong in and - and he was so good. He'd do just about anything for anyone.

'Then, what is it?' Harry frowns. 'I…you've been a bit off and you'll be going home soon and we won't be able to fix it.'

'It's nothing you've done, Harry.' Hermione sighs, can feel her toes curling in her brogues. Harry's still staring at her, desperately. There is more focus in his eyes now than there have been in some time, but they are still twice as dark. 'But…'

'But,' Harry prompts quickly. 'Please, Hermione. Whatever it is -'

'It's nothing, Harry!' Hermione snaps and instantly regrets it when Harry flinches. He'd been a bundle of nerves since he'd returned from the graveyard, hand constantly twitching for his wand at any provocation. Even Malfoy knew better than to bother him at the moment. 'It's stupid and petty and you shouldn't have to -'

'Let me choose what I should and shouldn't deal with,' Harry says.

Hermione bites her lip. 'Back in the second task,' she begins hesitantly and wishes she could re-swallow them once they reach Harry's ear. 'I know you'd…made up with Ron by then, but…was he…'

She winces and wishes she could have hid her anxiety over this better, but…Hermione had given everything to her friendship with Harry - because he deserved nothing less - but it'd been hard, and it felt…it felt like he'd overlooked her. It was a selfish thought, she knew that. Merlin help her, a student had been killed and Harry had had to watch and Voldemort was back. This was the last thing that should have been on her mind.

'Hermione…' Harry breathes after a moment of silence, like what she's said fully sinks in and he gets it. His grades aside, Harry was sharp; could make leaps of logic that a detective would be jealous of and he was a better judge of character than her.

Hermione fidgets with her hands, bends her ankles sideways in her shoes. 'I know, I know -'

'You're both my best friends,' Harry says and the guilt triples. She almost wishes she'd lied if only that Harry's trust had been tested enough this year. 'But…I think… Hermione, Ron got taken because I would miss him the most.'

Hermione's gaze which had shifted somewhere over Harry's left shoulder is glazed and she bites her tongue, her throat tightening in upset. No, she thinks, absolutely refusing to do this in front of him. 'I. See…' Her voice sounds shaky, unbelievably hurt and she hates herself for it. Harry was her first, real friend how ever she felt for Ron. She was - jealous, that Ron had gotten to Harry before her, that he had more of his heart than she did.

'No, I don't know if you do,' Harry murmurs before shifting back into her line of sight, insistent. 'I don't know how they'd known who to choose, Hermione. But…I - I'd miss Ron more because I don't think you'd ever...go.'

Her heart thumps loudly as her eyes flick back up to meet Harry's gaze, who in response smiles tiredly, uncertainty. He was better than Ron at talking about feelings but he was also awkward about it; awkward and uneasy. Like he'd been rejected before.

'What?' Hermione breathes.

Harry shuffles his feet. 'You stood by me this whole year. Against Ron and the school. Even that stuff with Skeeter,' he explains as he runs his hand though his hand in a nervous gesture he can barely accomplish at the minute. 'I…don't think I'll ever be able to miss you because I don't think I'd be able to lose you.'

'Oh.' Hermione blinks, tears on the edge of falling as she watches Harry's face, the direct line of his eyes, the pink of his cheeks.

'You…understand?' Harry asks gingerly.

Hermione finds a smile pulling at her mouth and Harry doesn't have a chance to move before she's throwing herself at him for a hug. He barely shies away from her now, like he had at the beginning when their friendship had been newer, and his mistreatment at foreign hands fresher. There's barely a pause before Harry's hands curl around her back.

'Yes,' Hermione responds as a weight leaves her shoulders. 'Yes, I understand.'

'That's - good,' Harry says breathlessly as she squeezes tighter.

'And you'll never have to; miss me, that is,' Hermione promises quietly into his neck and pretends not to notice how his grip on her spasms. 'I'm not going anywhere.'

Con/Textual Vomit: okay, just a note to say that this isn't to bash Ron or anything (not that I haven't before,) just that this is a something I've always been a bit curious about and I wanted to write through it.

Originally Uploaded: 09/03/18

OZ