The world of Harry Potter and its characters are owned by J. K. Rowling. None of them are mine.

Author's Note: I'm not quite sure if being rowdy (if you can consider it rowdy) in a graveyard is considered disrespectful in certain cultures. In mine, families usually have picnics by the graves of their loved ones and their kids would play and run around in the grass next to them. If this chapter offends you in any way, I apologize.

Chapter 4: Streaks in the Sky

"Regret."

The word washed over them, allowing for several charged moments before either one of them moved or spoke. Sighing, Hermione turned her eyes skyward. The sky was light orange, with streaks of pink and magenta interspersed in between. Harry had to admit—it was a spectacular view.

"Do you know why I haven't been to see Ron at all, Harry?" Hermione asked softly. She was still looking determinedly at the sky, but Harry was looking at her intently.

He waited.

"I don't love him, Harry. I realize that now."

Harry's was rendered speechless, his mind wiped blank. What? He stared at her, prompting her to continue.

"I don't love him, Harry. Maybe I did before, but that was a long time ago. I've been trying to figure out how to tell him, only I don't even know where to begin. I can't just blurt out "I don't love you anymore!" over dinner or drinks, can I? It's gotten so bad that I couldn't really be around him anymore. That's why I haven't been to the Burrow in months, why I make excuses when Ron comes to visit me at the Ministry." She sighed, now looking at him.

"Frankly, I'm amazed that he hasn't broken up with me yet. Maybe deep down, I was hoping that he would be the one to break it off." She looked down, ashamed. "It's a cowardly thing to do, I know. I'm not about to make excuses for my actions."

Throughout all this, Harry was silent. He was vaguely aware of the warmth on his face and neck however, brought about by some emotion he had yet to identify. He then realized it was anger. He was furious at Hermione. How could she be so selfish as to not take into account Ron's feelings about this? Did she even realize what her actions were doing to his—their— best friend?

He looked up to face her, his voice low but full of anger. "Do you have any idea what Ron has been going through, Hermione? This morning I found him with a toy phone in his hand, looking like he was about ready to swallow it if it meant you'd give him the time of day!"

She didn't seem surprised at his outburst. Maybe his expression had given his anger away long before he even managed to acknowledge it. She nodded miserably. "I know, and I'm so so sorry."

"Why are you telling me you're sorry? Tell him, it's him you should apologize to!" He wasn't shouting, but the force behind his words made her flinch. A part of him felt pained at her reaction, but he pushed it down.

Harry was fuming, indignant on Ron's behalf. "Come on, Hermione. You didn't really think about how this would affect him? You said it yourself before— all his life, Ron has spent his life being ignored, being made to feel like he wasn't enough! And here you are, his best friend— his girlfriend— doing exactly that!"

He was on his feet now—he hadn't been aware of standing up. Hermione had burst into tears. "I know that, Harry! I know! I'm feeling shitty enough about it as it is. The longer I've let this on, the worse I feel. I'm a terrible person!"

He didn't contradict her. "Well, what are you going to do about it then? You can't just continue stringing him along for the rest of his life!"

She sobbed harder. Harry felt all the fight rush out of him. It had only been a few moments but he was now regretting his outburst. Hermione had been so understanding about Ginny, yet here he was, making her cry. He was still angry, but part of him also hated seeing her like this. He let out a long sigh, and put his hand on her shoulder as she continued to sob. He didn't say anything, however, as he still didn't trust himself enough to speak words of comfort.

"I know, Harry! I know! I've been terrible. All this time I've been hoping for some magical solution to come and get me out of this mess, but obviously that's just me being too goddamn scared of confronting Ron. That's funny, isn't it? Merlin knows we've had enough rows for a lifetime, yet here I am terrified of facing him."

Her sobs had died down to sniffles now, and Harry found that he had enough control to speak evenly again. "I think you're afraid that whatever damage this row will cause will be irreparable, Hermione."

Now that he had said the words, he knew that was what he was afraid of. What if Ron and Hermione's friendship would be so damaged that they could never be in the same place together again? Of course, he had gone through similar situations back at Hogwarts during their third and sixth years. Ron and Hermione were also in a bad place then, but Harry knew that this was a problem on an entirely different level. They were no longer in school, therefore there weren't very many opportunities for them to interact anymore, which in turn lessens the possibility of mending their relationship. For that to happen, one of them would have to actively seek the other out. He couldn't really see that happening, not for a while.

Hermione had stopped crying and was looking down at the grass again. He realized that he had touched on what it was that had her so scared. She knew there would be no going back if she decided to break up with Ron. They had been through too much together for them to ever be friends again after. Harry knew that despite what Hermione said about her feelings for Ron (or lack thereof), she still valued him as a dear friend. It didn't help that with Ron came many of her other relationships— the entire Weasley family, their school friends, and Harry.

All of a sudden, he felt sorry for the girl who was sitting huddled beside him. Maybe it wasn't enough to excuse her actions, but he could certainly understand her fear of being left alone. He had entered the wizarding world not knowing anyone, eventually finding solace in Ron and Hermione. He was sure she felt the same. While Harry's past made him famous, it never really helped him make friends at Hogwarts— it just made him the object of gossip far too often. Hermione, on the other hand, had never been quite popular at school, and like Harry, her social circle consisted only of Ron and the other Weasleys, as well as some members of the DA. Even then, Harry knew Hermione was aware that his and Ron's friendship was different from either of their relationships with her. Harry had to admit that there was a time in their third year that he thought that his friendship with Hermione was a lot less fun than his and Ron's were, as much of it was spent in the library with hushed whispers over books and essays. He could see why Hermione might think that he would choose Ron over her, if it came down to it. After all, he was about to marry Ron's sister, and it might not be taken too well if he continued seeing her.

Unfortunately, he didn't think that Hermione's life at the Ministry is any better anyway. The night before, she had regaled him with stories of the cases she had encountered there, yet she had not mentioned even a single co-worker's name to him. He had the impression that Hermione was rather lonely at the Ministry. Sure, he expected her superiors must be in love with her the way their teachers at Hogwarts were, but he suspected that outside of that, Hermione might not even have someone there that she truly considered as anything more than an acquaintance. Ever since the Battle of Hogwarts, he and many of his friends had received widespread recognition for the roles they had played— the three of them were easily recognized in wizarding places, both here and abroad. Unfortunately, this also made the people around them walk on eggshells, too intimidated to treat them normally. People fawned over him wherever he went, acting too agreeable for him to truly be interested in getting to know them. He could only imagine that Hermione co-workers at the Ministry acted like that around her too— after all, didn't they also offer her a high position in her department? He couldn't blame her for being afraid of being left alone, if everyone she had save for her own family was also, in a way, Ron's.

Quietly, he sank down next to her on the grass and slipped an arm around her shoulders. Everything was a mess, but all that can wait till morning. He would stay with her for hours if it meant her realizing that he wasn't just Ron's, he was hers too.

Just like how Ron and Hermione had a relationship completely separate from Harry, he also had different interactions with either of them that was unique from his relationship with the other. Ron was the one he turned to when he needed to talk Quidditch and the like, but Hermione was the one he turned to when he needed to talk things out, when he needed a second perspective. He relied on her insights and sharp instincts. He knew Hermione was smart, but he was also aware that she was so much more than the textbook definition of what smart was.

She had a knack of seeing people for who they were, something proven time and time again that Harry had learned not to question her on such matters. He respected her and genuinely liked being around her, despite how others might think of her as bossy and something of a show-off. He liked her in spite of that side of her— no, he liked her because of it. She was unapologetic of who she really was despite getting flack for it time and time again. He appreciated that she was always honest with him about what she thought, even if it meant he had to hear things he did not want to. He owed much to Hermione— much more than his own life, really; she had been saving his sorry behind the whole time he had known her. He knew that whatever row might occur between her and Ron, he would still continue seeing her. She was his best friend after all, and he could not imagine a life where Hermione was not in it.

They sat there in silence, his arm still around her as she continued to huddle between her knees in the grass. It was not awkward between them; he had known her far too long to be bothered by long periods of silence when he was with her. He was so close to her that he was aware of every intake of breath she took, and after a while he found that her breathing had calmed down to a regular beat. She had lifted her head from her arms, but was now looking intently at the sky. The sun was quickly setting now, bathing everything in orange light. Tendrils of inky blue sky were creeping in from above, and before they knew it, the sun had disappeared behind the church in front of them.

Through all this, Hermione hadn't moved at all, save from looking down at the grass after the sun came down. She started in surprise when a bunch of white roses was suddenly shoved unceremoniously under her nose. She looked up to see Harry with his wand out, grinning at her playfully. Her expression softened but she still didn't smile.

"What, not quite good enough?" He raised his eyebrows, waved his wand and the two dozen roses suddenly turned into various shades of orange, making it look like she was holding the sunset in her hands.

"No?" Another wave of his wand. A new bouquet of deep blue roses appeared at her feet. It was the exact same color as the sky above them. She smiled in spite of herself.

"That's it!" He smiled encouragingly, continuing to wave his wand like an overly enthusiastic conductor. Flowers of every color were raining all around her, winding up in piles of roses, daisies, carnations, and orchids. Hermione was laughing now, gathering the flowers on the ground next to her and throwing them back at Harry. More flowers shot out of his wand at her, causing her to retaliate by drawing her own wand. They were laughing uncontrollably now, ducking to avoid the floral missiles being sent their way.

They sank down to the grass a while later, their clothes covered in grass stains, with flowers strewn around them in every direction. They looked at each other guiltily—the area surrounding Harry's parents' gravestone was a mess.

"We should tidy up, don't you think?" Harry said, standing up and grabbing his wand from the ground beside him. He helped Hermione to her feet and moved to use a Vanishing charm on the area around them.

"Wait." She grabbed his arm, beaming up at him. "I can think of better ways to put this mischief to good use."

She walked over to the nearest pile of carnations, gathered them up, and proceeded to lay them on the nearest tombstone. She did the same to a bunch of orchids lying nearby. Harry joined her, picking up all stray flowers until all the gravestones in the entire row had flowers adorning them. He placed the last of the largest roses on top of his parents' graves. And stepped back, admiring their work. His parents' names were the only things visible, the rest of the white marble was covered by every kind of bloom he and Hermione had managed to conjure up earlier.

They sat back down in front of it. Harry pulled out two more bottles of butterbeer from the bag he had brought. He took a long draught before speaking, "I wanted to go here because I thought it might clear my head. I thought that visiting them would help me appease my own doubts, you know? I mean, I know my mum and dad had their own share of problems. She didn't want to have anything to do with him when they first met; Dad seemed like a humongous prat at first when I saw him in the Pensieve… Despite that, they still wound up together, you know? They were very happy together— at least that's what everyone's told me."

She passed the bag of Every Flavor Beans to him. "I don't know, Harry. I think, in cases like this— you just… know. Like, despite all the flaws your partner has, you know you'd rather live with those flaws everyday than not at all."

He was quiet for a while, digesting her words. "I don't feel any different about Ginny. Yes, she has her flaws and I've long accepted them, but I think this has gone further than that, you know? I can't exactly remember the turning point— the exact moment I stopped feeling for her, but right now I don't think it's fair for either of us if I still went through with the wedding. Who knows, maybe it's a phase for me or what, but I do know that I can't go through with it this soon. This can't just be cold feet, can it?"

"The way you describe it, Harry, I don't think it is. But for all you know, maybe a nice long talk would clear things up with her. Can't hurt to talk to her before the wedding, right?" She sighed, looking up at the sky again.

"How am I even going to start with it, Hermione? She has been through so much for this, and here I am about to suggest cooling things down a scant fortnight before we're about to be husband and wife." He was frustrated despite knowing it all came down to the fear of hurting Ginny and everyone else.

"At this point, Harry, I think the opportunity's either going to have to present itself very soon or you'll have to do it yourself."

Harry knew the discussion had come to an end. Grimly, he turned the topic to Ron.

"What about you? What are you going to do?"

She exhaled loudly. "I suppose I'm going to have to break up with him quite soon."

"Do you need me there?"

"No. I'd rather you not get involved in this. You know Ron can be a bit unreasonable sometimes."

He knew what she was implying. He always knew Ron was jealous of his relationship with Hermione. Despite Harry's attempts to appease him, he suspected that the memory of Hermione "choosing" Harry over Ron had never really left the latter's mind.

It was his turn to exhale loudly. "I suppose. It's getting dark, should we leave?"

It was long past twilight now, making it hard to see. "Yeah, I think we should."

They both rose to their feet, and with one last white rose laid on his parents' graves, they walked away. Much like the last time the two of them had been there, Harry put his arms around Hermione's shoulders, she put hers around his waist and together they walked in silence towards the church and through the old kissing gate.