Disclaimer: [insert standard, trite disclaimer here along with a dash of wit]

Prologue

"Hermione, I love you. I think I have since the time you solved Snape's puzzle in first year. You've been with me through everything I've suffered, you've sat with me through my brooding, and you've looked out for my safety, all without asking a thing of me.

I can't think of a moment when I haven't felt safe and comfortable with you. Even this year, you were the only one to believe that I didn't put my name in the goblet. I can't tell you how much this means to me, but I guess I'm trying now. When—when I faced that dragon out there, you were the one who hugged me, told me to come back, and gave me the courage to do that. You are the only reason I'm alive right now, Hermione. This isn't the first time that I've done something for or because of you.

That basilisk in second year? It hurt you, tore you away from me, and that was why I went down there. Not for Ron's sister, though that was a part of it. In third year, when we rode on Buckbeak, that was the happiest I've ever been and it's fueled my Patronus since. Nothing else even comes close.

For a long time, I thought that telling you would change our current relationship. I was so scared of losing your friendship, Hermione, that I couldn't tell you. The dragon today changed everything.

When I was sure that I would die, my only thoughts were of you, and that made me realize one thing—before I die in this tournament, I want to tell you how I honestly feel.

Hermione, I am utterly and madly in love with you. Would you go to Hogsmeade this weekend with me, and the next, and possibly for the rest of our lives?"

A beat. "I'm not sure what to say to that, Harry. This certainly isn't what I was expecting."

A pause. "I think this is the most I've ever heard you say at once."

"Please, say yes Hermione."

"I-I'm sorry; I can't."

Despair.

Harry couldn't even see Hermione flee through the portrait door as his world swam in front of his eyes. Everything else seemed to escape him, including the muttering of the other people in the common room. He slowly sank to his knees, and remained there, near catatonic from the disastrous result of his confession. Nothing made sense any more.