Why do I care so much? He's obviously moved on and doesn't even notice that we never talk anymore. He doesn't need me, so why should I need him? I have Harry. Hermione stumbled a little walking to the library. Has he always had this effect on me and I ignored it? What if I have always preferred Harry, but fell for Ron because I assumed my best friend would never see me that way. But Ron was my best friend…oh gods, oh gods…I'm in love with Harry. It's always been Harry. Ron was a replacement, a distraction, and I'm running away because I'm terrified of telling Harry. I'm running away because my cover has been blown.
"Bloody hell," she whispered. Hermione was safely tucked away in the back of the library near a window so the sun would keep her warm. Not that she really needed to hide since the library was empty, but it made her feel better. But even the sun couldn't keep the shiver at bay when she realized that she was in love with Harry. She had always loved him – as a friend, a brother – but how could she look him the eyes without giving away that she was in love with him.
She couldn't pinpoint when it had happened, it had just naturally occurred with all they had been through. Hermione knew the real Harry - not The Boy Who Lived, not the stain on the Dursley family tree – the gentle, sweet, loyal, brave Harry who was always willing to help and fight for what was right. She had been there for him in fourth year and the mess of a Tri-wizard tournament and the death of Cedric (which according to Ron, still haunted him in his sleep some nights) and he had always been there for her. He saved her from the troll in first year and defended her when Malfoy would call her Mudblood. They had been through so much in their short time as friends that falling in love was inevitable. Looking back on their experiences Hermione wasn't surprised, except that it took so long.
The library door opened, bringing with it a draft of air cooler than the sunlit corner. Harry walked around the bookcase that partially blocked the view of her table and drank in the sight before him. Hermione was looking out the window, giving him a clear view of her profile, and her hair was falling in shimmering waves across her shoulders. His fingers twitched in remembrance of how soft and silky it was. Calming his rapidly beating heart, he sat down with a plop which startled Hermione out of her reverie.
She blushed and couldn't maintain eye contact with him. "I'm sorry about what happened. I should be used to it and get over it. I don't mean to make you feel like you aren't good enough," she stopped suddenly, her throat was dry and words were failing her.
The look on her face was killing Harry. She looked lost, confused, not at all the strong Gryffindor he knew her to be. Bloody git! How could Ron walk away from her? For Lavender, of all people? I would give anything for her to care for me the way she once did for him. He was wracking his brain for something to say, make some plans for the day to get her mind off him and give them time alone, but he was coming up blank.
Sighing, she continued, "I…Harry…bloody hell, why can't I just say it?" Harry's head jerked up in surprise and he had to bite back a laugh.
"Everything okay, 'Mione? You can tell me anything, you know." He couldn't fight the twitch in his lips anymore and just smiled broadly at the girl in front of him.
"Yes, I know I can, but it's hard when I don't know what you are thinking. What if it pushes you away? What if your damned sense of loyalty gets in the way and you feel the need to protect me by not telling me things, important things." Crossing her arms against her chest and scowling she went on, "I am not a fragile doll and I won't have you treat me like Ginny. Whatever happens between us, we are still going to fight this war together, like we planned. And Merlin help you Harry, if you try to leave me out!"
Harry sat back as he absorbed her words. He wasn't quite sure where it came from, but it had obviously been boiling under the surface for a while. She knew him so well she was already able to predict that he would try to "protect her" by sheltering her and not telling her what was going on with Voldemort. Hell, he had done it in the past, before their feelings for each other had evolved.
He nodded. "You're right, as usual, Hermione. I promise that no matter what happens between us that I will keep you informed and not shelter you. We both know I can't do this without you anyway." She smiled and sighed.
"Good. Well then," she faltered and started again. "What do you want to do today? It is Saturday and even though I wouldn't mind studying I want to do something with you. Not with me studying and you looking bored."
"Oh, no you don't. You don't get off that easy, 'Mione. I want to talk and we are alone right now, so spill." He leaned back in his chair with an amused expression. He noticed that she paled and was shaking slightly. What could be so bad?
You can do this, Hermione! Tell him you love him, that you are in love with him. It's Harry, he's not going to bite…unless you want him to. She nearly toppled over when the thought crossed her mind. Stop! We can't go there – oh gods, he's gorgeous and he's staring at me. I can't think when he looks at me!
Harry was watching the emotions fly across her face and wished he could hear her internal monologue. It seemed like it was quite interesting. He took in her flushed cheeks, the rapid rise and fall of her chest, the flick of her tongue across her lips in her anxiety. It took all his willpower to stay seated and not attack her when he remembered the kisses from last night. Is that what she's thinking about?
Digging within herself to find the courage she usually possessed, Hermione replied in a rush, "IloveyouHarry." She closed her eyes and sucked in a few calming breaths.
CRASH! Hermione jerked open her eyes to see Harry flat on his back, chair flipped over and books scattered. She stood up and walked over to him, hovering above him and nervously wringing her hands. "Are you okay? Did you hurt yourself?" She took in his dazed expression, but she didn't see any cuts or blood. I tell him I love him and now I will probably have to take him to the infirmary to cure a concussion. Smooth, Hermione, real smooth.
Finally registering that he was on the floor, Harry pushed himself into a sitting position and motioned for Hermione to sit with him. He watched her bite her lip anxiously as she settled herself amongst the books, facing him. Gently he reached out and cupped her cheek before he whispered, "Say it again. Slowly, this time."
Surprised, Hermione tried to interpret the emotion in his emerald eyes. Could it be…hope? The thought that Harry might reciprocate steadied her. "I love you, Harry. I'm in love with you." He closed his eyes and smiled and when he re-opened them Hermione saw the glisten of unshed tears.
Taking her face in both hands now, he leaned forward and rested his forehead against hers. "I'm in love with you, too, Hermione." The smile she gave him could have rivaled the sun and it made his heart swell to see it. "Can I kiss you?"
Her mouth attached itself to his in reply and Harry decided he didn't mind that her lips were too preoccupied to answer in the affirmative. This was the best answer of all.
"Ron! Hey, Ron, I need to talk to you." Ron was leaving the Great Hall and was headed for the Quidditch pitch to get some practice in when he heard Neville yell at him.
"Sure, Neville, what's going on?" Neville caught up to the lanky redhead and motioned with his hand for him to follow.
"I, uh, thought we could talk. I know you are busy with Lavender and Quidditch, but I noticed that you don't spend much time with Harry and Hermione anymore. Is everything okay with you guys?" Neville hadn't been able to shake that something was off between the members of the Golden Trio. He didn't put much stock into a Harry/Hermione relationship, but he was curious why the three of them were no longer spending time together.
Ron was looking at the ground as they walked. How could he tell Neville that the reason their friendships had soured was because of him? He was sure that Neville could easily guess, but it was much harder to admit out loud. He cleared his throat awkwardly. "Um, Lavender and Hermione don't really get along." He shrugged.
"Uh huh." Neville was studying Ron like he was a screaming mandrake that needed to be shoved back into the soil and possibly suffocated. "So, you let Lavender Brown break apart the Golden Trio? WHAT WERE YOU THINKING?"
Ron's face was red and he was ready to blow. "Excuse me, but what business is it of yours? I got a girlfriend and Hermione got jealous. What does it matter, eh? I'm fine, they're fine, EVERYONE IS FINE!" His fists were balled up and it was taking every ounce of control not to throttle Neville for rubbing salt in his wound. He knew he was responsible, but he couldn't admit it. He was too damn proud.
"Fine Ron, believe what you want. Live in denial, be delusional, but you should know that Harry and Hermione seem pretty close lately. I hope you didn't throw away what Hermione was offering for a quick shag with Lavender." Neville glared at his one-time friend before turning smartly on his heel and walking away.
The air was knocked from Ron's lungs as the meaning behind Neville's words sunk into his thick skull. He hunched over and dry heaved as he thought of how he had hurt Hermione and sent her running into the arms of Harry Potter. His worst nightmare was quickly becoming a reality and it was all his fault.
