AN: I found variations of the items on the list from several Hermione Granger blog and tumblr posts. Of course, I added in my own as well, and changed them up a bit.
Chapter Eight
Hermione's birthday was an entirely new experience for Harry. Never in his life had one person's happiness been so important to him. He was noticeably invested in making sure that her day was perfect. After all, it wasn't everyday that one of his best friends got to turn a year older. They were alive; they would celebrate.
Before he'd woken up that morning and wanted nothing less than to push her up against a wall and kiss her senseless, her birthday was going to be just like every other one they'd celebrated before. Now he had greater incentive. If he could just see her smile that smile that made the rest of the world seem so unimportant; he knew it would be worth it.
Unfortunately, he didn't have much time to prepare. Only one day. Most of his thoughts ended up going into the gift he would give her, and that was difficult enough, without it being too obvious that his entire outlook on who she was to him had completely shifted. Even he knew that there was a difference between the type of present you get for a friend and the type of present for a girl you've been fantacising about.
And Harry found himself fantacising about her quite a bit. It wasn't ever anything bad. Harry, admittedly, had very little experience with girls. His imagination and countless tales from Dean and Seamus were all he had to go on, but even he knew that finally getting Hermione in his arms the right way would vastly outweigh whatever he could possibly think up.
If anything, Harry thought that, for a present, he would resort to kissing her. It was almost becoming unbearable to be near her. And he was always near her. Everything she did made him want to abandon all control and whisper sweet nothings. Really, it was a problem.
He could barely focus on his schoolwork and he spent an alarming amount of time staring at her, as if he couldn't believe that she was actually real. Surely nobody this great could exist. Surely.
Before they'd arrived at Hogwarts, Harry did what he normally did and bought her books a plenty. She was Hermione and he knew she would appreciate them; but he wanted to do something more this year. It was almost like he'd been struck by lightening when it came to him.
He needed a favour from Ginny and she was happy to oblige. She didn't even ask him what he needed it for and that was great for him. The less explaining he had to do, the better.
He didn't actually have that much time to work on it, but he stayed up all night - not that he actually had to try - to get it done. He'd toyed with the idea of getting Hermione down to the common room at midnight, but he decided against it. He would see her in the morning. He would see her and he would wish her happy birthday the right way.
Harry was down in the common room first, eagerly awaiting Hermione's arrival. He could barely sit still in his own excitement.
He literally sprang to his feet when he spotted her bushy hair. He had her caught in his arms before she could even register his presence. Harry even lifted her off the ground and spun her, making her squeal.
Ginny just laughed as she watched the entire thing play out, absently feeling a little jealous of her brown-haired friend. What surprised her was that it didn't actually have anything to do with Harry. She just couldn't remember anyone being so excited about her birthday, apart from her mother, and Molly didn't count in this regard. Even Harry hadn't shown this much interest before, which really told her all she needed to know about her chances with the Boy-Who-Lived.
Ginny was proud to say she had accepted its truth a while ago. She was moving on. Though, to where, wasn't as far away from Harry as many had anticipated.
Once Harry set Hermione down, he pulled her into yet another hug. "Happy birthday, Hermione," he whispered breathlessly, making her shiver. Then he stepped back and gave her body the once-over, allowing his eyes to linger on all the best parts. His eyes, of course, returned to her face and he broke out into another excited grin.
"Hi," Harry breathed.
Hermione's blush was so deep, she didn't trust herself to speak. "Harry," she eventually whispered. "What's gotten in to you?"
"It's your birthday."
"I know."
"You're older than me."
"Don't remind me."
"Cougar."
She gasped in disbelief but she wasn't even sure how to reprimand him. "I swear you're more excited than I am."
"I am, Hermione," he said strongly. "You're a whole year older, and I get to see it. I'm here and I get to see you get older. That gets me excited."
Hermione had to hug him again, tears springing to her eyes.
"No, Hermione. Not today. No tears today, okay?"
She nodded dumbly as they released each other, but she didn't step away. She was almost tucked into his side when Neville stumbled down the stairs, looking a little bewildered at the fact that Harry wasn't still up in the dorms waiting for him.
"Harry, you're down here," Neville said, rubbing sleep from his eyes.
The wizard in question was still smiling. "Morning, Neville."
Neville didn't find Harry's smile unsettling. In fact, he found it contagious, and he smiled as well. "Hi Ginny, Hermione," he said. Then, sensing he was missing something - particularly from the glare Ginny was giving him - he paled. "What? What?"
Ginny practically growled. "I reminded you last night, Neville."
It still didn't come to him. "What? I don't remember. Somebody just tell me."
Harry shrugged and Hermione would never bring it up. Ginny was determined not to be the one to remind him either. He would have to figure it out for himself.
"Breakfast?" Harry asked, linking his fingers with Hermione's.
It took Neville the greater part of breakfast in the Great Hall to figure out what the day was. He dropped his fork in surprise and shame. "Hermione! It's your birthday!"
Hermione looked equally surprised, her gaze snapping towards him. "Umm, yes it is, Neville. Thank you for reminding me."
"Happy birthday!"
"Thank you."
"I didn't actually forget," he added quickly. "I remembered. I even got you a present and everything. It just slipped my mind for a bit."
"It's really okay, Neville," Hermione said kindly. "I know you knew. Don't feel bad about it. I also forgot until Ginny pounced on me this morning."
Ginny nodded. "She was so surprised."
"Nearly gave me a heart attack," Hermione said, though she didn't laugh. Harry could only imagine how that surprise had really gone down. He suspected that Hermione must have expertly drawn her wand on the unsuspecting Weasley, an undeniable habit of War.
Hermione looked at Harry. "I really thought you would wake me at midnight," she said.
He shrugged. "I thought about it... But then I know how precious sleep is."
The smile she gave him made Harry's stomach do a violent somersault. He couldn't bring himself to look away from her. He didn't even care what she was saying in this moment. All he wanted was to see her. It was actually sickeningly sad, but he just couldn't bring himself to care.
"I wish it was the weekend," Ginny said sadly. "I mean, I know you love school and all, Hermione; but even you can't say that you want to do schoolwork on your birthday."
"I don't really mind," Hermione admitted.
Ginny groaned. "Of course you would say that."
Hermione chuckled, hiding her embarrassment well. She looked at Harry again, just because she could, and she blushed at the grin he was still giving her. "Don't your cheeks hurt?" she asked softly, so only he could hear.
"I don't even care."
Hermione wanted to reach up and touch his cheek but she resisted the temptation. "Don't hurt yourself on account of me, Harry Potter. I won't stand for it." She tried to sound serious but even she could hear the laughter in her own voice.
Harry was about to say something else but the sound of the arrival of the morning post stopped him. Owls flew into the Great Hall in great numbers, majority of them headed towards Hermione. Many packages and an obscene number of envelopes dropped onto the table in front of her, sending food flying in several directions.
"Someone's popular," Ginny mused as the last of the letters settled on the table.
"Who could they all possibly be from?" Hermione asked, picking up an envelope near the top of the pile.
It was Neville who responded. "Hermione, you did help defeat Voldemort. I suspect some of these are from adoring fans, or from young girls aspiring to be just like you. Isn't that obvious?"
Hermione opened her mouth to say something but no words came out. They were all sure she was about to say something modest, something to deflect Neville's praise, so Ginny spoke up before Hermione could properly form her thoughts once more.
"I think this is from Ron," Ginny said, picking up a small package and holding it out across the table for Hermione to take.
Harry was the one who took the package from her. "Maybe you can open all these later," he offered to nobody in particular, having sensed that Neville's mentioning of the War must have brought on flashbacks.
Hermione absently nodded, immediately seeking out Harry's hand. He entwined their fingers, bring their hands down and under the table to rest on his thigh. He could feel her trembling beside him and he hated it. He did not want this on her birthday.
Harry took out his wand and, with a flick of his wrist, all the offending mail was gone, to be looked through later. Hermione didn't even look at him to question where he had sent the items. She just seemed relieved to see that she wouldn't have to deal with it all in front of other people. Only Harry Potter.
"We should get to Transfiguration."
Hermione allowed Harry to lead the way to their classroom. He held her hand, of course, and neither of them even cared. They were strolling through the corridors when the two of them ran into an eager-looking group of first years.
His group of first years. Two Hufflepuffs and two Ravenclaws.
Harry immediately smiled at the sight of them, recognising the four from the book shop. Hermione squeezed his hand and brought them to a stop, silently giving him an unexpected present on her special day.
Harry smiled at her for a moment before giving the four his undivided attention. Before he could even ask his first question, all four were already talking at him, and Hermione just chuckled at his side.
"Whoa," Harry said, laughing as well. "One at a time, please."
"Will you tell Hermione happy birthday from us," the girl who was not Zara said to Harry.
"You can tell her yourself, you know," he replied, glancing at Hermione. "She doesn't bite, I promise."
The girl looked at Hermione, her eyes bright. "Hello Hermione," she said proudly. "I'm Sophie. This is Ronan, Zara and Oliver. We just wanted to wish you happy birthday."
Harry had to blink a few times. The way Sophie took control and spoke for her friends reminded him so much of Hermione that he was almost sure he was caught in a flashback.
Hermione appeared just as bewildered as she struggled to find her voice. "Oh, thank you," she eventually said. "How have your first few weeks been?" she asked kindly.
There was another assault of voices as four answered as one. Harry just watched in amusement as Hermione tried to decipher who was saying what. Their childish enthusiasm warmed him from the inside. Had he and Hermione ever been like that?
No. No they hadn't.
They'd never had the opportunity to enjoy school.
Harry watched them carefully, finding that seeing Hermione interact with them stirred something within him that he didn't even know existed. It was like an alarm going off in his head, really. He knew exactly what he had in her: family. Now, and in the future.
It didn't scare him as much as he first thought it would when he came to the realisation that he saw children in his future. Well, if he really thought about it, the part that didn't scare him was that Hermione would be there somehow. How could he fail at being a father if Hermione was around? She'd never let him down before.
But Children... with Hermione?
Was that what he wanted?
Yes. Yes it was.
He took a breath to steady himself. Now that was monumental.
Harry noticed that Zara was looking at him oddly, as if she was reading his thoughts in some way. Could she tell that he came to such a conclusion? Harry shook his head. That was ridiculous. Everything he was thinking was totally ridiculous. He wasn't even sure what exactly he felt for Hermione and now he was envisioning some life they could have in some distant future.
Damn.
"Are you okay?" Zara asked him, taking a small step away from her friends.
He looked at her. "I'm fine," he said softly. Then, louder, he added, "I'm great."
"Because it's Hermione's birthday?"
He nodded. "And I finally get to talk to you. I told you Hogwarts wasn't that scary."
"No it isn't," she agreed. "And now there are now a lot more students than there were when we first started."
Harry nodded his understanding. "It's better that way. Feels more like Hogwarts."
She still gazed him, seeing something that he wasn't sure was even there to be seen on his face. "But that's not the only reason you're great, is it?"
Harry eyed her carefully. "What are you? Some kind of Seer?"
She shrugged. "I can tell you like her," she said seriously.
Harry stepped back. "What?"
"No, it's more than that," Zara said softly. "It's a lot more, isn't it?"
Harry said nothing. He couldn't bring himself to speak.
He turned to look at Hermione when he heard someone say his name. Hermione and Sophie were looking at him, both smiling secretively.
"Yes he is," Hermione said, still keeping her eyes on him.
He asked the question with his eyes but she said nothing. Just continued to smile that smile.
Oliver and Joe were talking between themselves but looked up when silence fell over the other four students. Harry felt supremely uncomfortable so he cleared his throat.
"I think we should all get to class, don't you?" he prompted.
There was a chorus of goodbyes and then Harry and Hermione were on their way again. They walked only a few metres before he had to ask the burning question. "What were you and Sophie talking about?"
"What were you and Zara talking about?"
They looked at each other for a moment before they each replied at the same time. "You."
Hermione laughed. "She said that you were cute, and I agreed."
"You think I'm cute?"
She nodded. "And rather handsome, if I might add."
"You think I'm handsome?"
Hermione stopped to look at him properly. "Are you just messing around or are you asking me seriously, Harry?"
"Seriously."
"Do you really not know how, umm, good-looking you are?"
"The same way you don't know how beautiful you are?"
Hermione had no comeback and Harry had to smirk. She grabbed his hand. "Come on. Professor Adams is going to kill us if we're late."
Harry and Hermione spent majority of their late afternoon going through all the letters and packages she received that morning, in Harry's Head Boy room. The Prefects' common room was too public and Harry couldn't get into Hermione's Head Girl's room. Also, he doubted there was another place in all of Hogwarts in which they could be as open with each other.
They quickly established an efficient system, where Harry was designated opener of letters and she just read them before setting them aside to write her thank you notes at a later time. They were sprawled out on the carpet on the floor, a right mess of paper surrounding them.
Hermione had to admit that she was surprised by the sheer support that she did seem to have, and Harry didn't feel the need to reassure her about it. She received countless letters from young witches and wizards, as well as from parents who thanked her for being the right kind of role model.
"You and your books," Harry teased her; "Going to be ruining children's weekends for years to come."
"You love my books."
He did.
Of course, Hermione received books as presents from all who were close to her. Harry just watched in amazement as she marveled at each one of them, giving herself enough time to read a few pages of each. He loved the way she could get so excited about words on a page.
Once they were done, Harry Vanished all the excess paper, and Hermione sent her things to her room. She waited a beat more before she turned to him, a certain sadness washing over her.
"What?" he asked, shifting closer to her. "What's wrong?"
"Nothing's wrong, exactly," she said, her eyes meeting his. "I just, umm, I can't help thinking about who isn't wishing me happy birthday today, or ever again, for that matter."
Harry took a moment to figure it out. Her parents. He felt something tighten in his chest and, in that moment, he vowed to do all he could to make it better. He would fix it, somehow. He would find a way.
Hermione cleared her throat and pushed the sadness away. "And I'm still waiting for your present, by the way."
"Oh really," he taunted. "If I recall correctly, wasn't it you who said that I didn't need to get you anything; that merely being me was a gift enough?"
Hermione pouted. "I remember no such thing."
"Ha," he laughed. "That's understandable. Bad memory comes with old age."
She exaggerated a gasp, lifting her hand to swat him. "You're terrible, Harry Potter!"
He caught her wrist before she could exact physical harm on him. "Later, Hermione. I promise."
The severity of his tone made her shiver and, suddenly, she wasn't sure wanted the present anymore.
Whatever it was.
After their patrol that evening, Harry led Hermione back up to his Head Boy's room, telling her that he had to give her his present. Hermione didn't fight it, just enjoying the feeling of his hand in hers, squeezing at irregular intervals. He'd spent the entire day at her side, his grin never really faltering. It amazed her. He amazed her.
Harry released her hand once they were in the room, and Hermione quickly closed the door, realising quite quickly that they were about to have a deeply private moment. She watched him ruffle through his nightstand until he found a few pieces of paper. It was paper, not parchment. Without a word, Harry climbed onto his bed and beckoned her over with a gesture with his hand.
"What is it?" Hermione asked curiously, unmoving.
"Come here," he said, leaning back against his headboard and spreading his legs. "Sit with me."
Hermione spent a moment having to convince herself that he did, in fact, want her to sit where he wanted her to sit. Without a word, she climbed onto the bed and settled between his legs, her back pressing against his chest.
Harry let out a shaky breath that he hoped she didn't notice. Having her this close was intoxicating. "Firstly," he said, moving his arms so that his hands were in front of both of them. He held a few pieces of paper in front of her. "Don't be mad, but I may have borrowed your typewriter."
Hermione chose to say nothing. She knew that he knew she wouldn't have a problem with it.
"I wanted to get you something special, Hermione, but I couldn't think of anything with enough meaning to even remotely express to you just how much you mean to me. So I decided to write it all down."
Hermione relaxed into him as she took the pages from him. She was made aware of his hands settling on her abdomen, holding her close, as she began to read aloud. "'The Many Reasons Why the World (And Harry Potter) Need(s) Hermione Jean Granger?'" Hermione twisted her neck so she could look at him. "Harry, what is this?"
"Just read," he instructed, absently pulling her tighter against him.
Hermione shifted until she was comfortable, relaxing against him in a way she had never done before. She was actually quite amazed how well they fit together. Once she was settled, she started to read.
The Many Reasons Why the World (And Harry Potter) Need(s) Hermione Jean Granger
1. She is Harry Potter's best friend, loyal to a fault. (And one of the only reasons Harry is still alive to be able to write this.)
2. She is brave and wise. (Probably the wisest Harry has ever met, and that includes Dumbledore.)
3. She is better than all other Hermiones to have ever existed. (Especially the one she is named after. Even Shakespeare couldn't have created a character as awesome and complex as HJG.)
4. She is smart, heroic, a world-class witch and an amazing role model. (Harry wants to be exactly like her when he grows up.)
5. She has a wand with a dragon heartstring core. (And now so does Harry. Coincidence, Harry thinks not.)
6. She is an expert in pretty much everything she sets her mind to do. (Which is a bit scary, Harry has to admit. Though, he is still waiting for her to beat him on a broom.)
7. She has an enviable work ethic. (Goodness knows Harry wishes he was half as disciplined as she is.)
8. She is not afraid of anything, which includes telling things as they are. (Harry secretly calls her a badass in his head.)
9. She believes in equal rights for all, witches and wizards, and all magical creatures alike. (In muggle terms, she is a feminist. And Harry is unafraid to admit he is one as well.)
10. She genuinely cares for others, and despises neglectful behaviour. (Harry knows this because of the many death threats she has sent the Dursleys' way. He is sometimes even afraid for them.)
11. She is conscious of her own skills and uses them to help others however she can. (Harry would have failed out of Hogwarts without her help.)
12. She is conscious of her own faults. (Which Harry admits there are very few, which is great because she isn't always terribly self-aware.)
13. She is selfless. (And Harry doesn't know how he could ever repay her many sacrifices. He vows to spend the rest of his life trying.)
14. She is a priceless gem, a timeless wonder. (Every galleon that Harry has in his vaults would never amount to her worth.)
15. She gives the greatest pep talks. (Goodness knows Harry couldn't have done half of the things he did without her words of encouragement.)
16. She has probably read every book ever written. (And Harry is convinced that she could probably recite every word verbatim.)
17. She is brutally honest. (Sometimes a little too much, really. To this day, Harry remains wounded.)
18. She is unafraid to voice her opinion and give you a piece of her mind. (Which Harry realises is similar to No. 17 but it's an important part of who HJG is.)
19. She will never pass up the opportunity to correct you. (And Harry thinks she secretly enjoys it; the wench.)
20. She is highly capable of defending herself. (Need Harry mention the totally epic punch to Draco's ferret face. Badass wench.)
21. She is a known rule-breaker, but for only good reasons. (Saving Harry's life, he supposes. Is that a good reason?)
22. She is highly logical, emotionally expressive and the leading lady (in Harry's life.)
23. She is an inspiration to all those around her. (Particularly Harry.)
24. She is the most beautiful girl, both inside and out. (And Harry means it. Really, Hermione. He means it.)
25. She is loved by Harry Potter. (Harry has nothing more to add to this.)
Believe him, Hermione. He speaks the truth.
Love, Harry.
"Oh Harry," Hermione whispered, her eyes already filled with tears. She twisted her neck once more, even sitting up slightly, to look at him properly. "This is beautiful, and so you."
"You don't think it's corny?"
She shook her head. "Of course not. It's perfect."
Harry looked at her, his eyes shining a bright green. "I know it isn't much. I didn't have time to figure out the perfect gift for you."
"This is it."
"You don't have to say that."
Hermione reached up to kiss his cheek. "I'm not saying anything. I'm telling you that I love it. Thank you. It's better than any physical gift. This came from you."
"So you would say no to the set of books you would find on your bed right now?"
Hermione bit her bottom lip. "Now, where have you heard of my ever saying no to books?"
"That's what I thought," he said smugly.
She held the list up. "But I'll definitely appreciate this more. I'll cherish it."
Harry appeared thoughtful. "I've always hated that my parents never had the chance to meet you," he said softly, his grip on her tightening. "But, I suppose, I can trust that Sirius and Remus have told them all about how wonderful you are. I imagine them having the strangest tea parties where they discuss little Pronglet's life, and how important you are to me."
As much as she fought, Hermione couldn't hold back the tears. She couldn't look at him anymore so she twisted back, leaned back into him and covered his hands over her abdomen with her own. She couldn't even think of anything to say. Just being there with him was more than enough.
"You are loved, Hermione," Harry whispered right into her ear.
Hermione knew the words carried a lot of meaning. She couldn't remember a time he'd ever actually said the words 'I love you' out loud to her. He'd conveyed their meaning countless ways, with his searing looks, absent actions and even his happy grins. She knew without having to hear it that he loved her. And, she loved him too. They'd loved each other for a long time.
"And so are you, Harry Potter," Hermione mumbled back, her tears muffling her voice. "Thank you for today. This entire day has been amazing, because of you."
"You're nineteen," he said; "On the nineteenth. It had to be special."
"It was more than anything I could have dreamed," she let him know. "Definitely makes up for how strange you've been acting."
He let out a light chuckle, moving his head so he could catch sight of her face. His eyes settled on her tear tracks but she seemed to be smiling. He wanted to shift some of her hair out of the way and place a soft kiss on the skin of her neck. It looked so inviting. Instead, he settled for placing a chaste kiss against her cheek.
"Thank you, Harry," she said again, relaxing into him once more. She could actually feel his heartbeat and, without even thinking about it, she closed her eyes. She felt so safe, so very loved. She didn't even realise she'd fallen asleep until Harry shifted behind her. Instinctively, she shifted with him until they were both lying on their sides, her back still against his front. He had his arm around her, holding her close, and she could feel his breath against her skin.
"'Mione," he whispered absently, his nose nuzzling her neck. "Mine."
She couldn't stop her smile as she drifted back to sleep, the warmth of him too inviting to even consider moving. Why would she even want to? This had to be the best day she'd had in such a long time; she couldn't even remember feeling this happy, or content. She was in Harry's arms and there was nowhere else in the world she would rather be.
Harry woke up blind. A wall of chestnut brown blocked his vision and he sighed in contentment. She was still here; still in his arms. He wanted this for the rest of his life. It wasn't even a question anymore.
The more aware he became, though, the more he began to panic. Where was his hand? What softness was that?
If he weren't so aware, Harry might have squeezed, but he was too fond of the breath in his lungs to chance such an act. Slowly, somewhat expertly, he managed to extricate himself from his compromising position. His body demanded a visit to the bathroom.
When he stepped back into his room, Hermione was gone. He could still smell her in the air and it automatically brought a smile to his face. Maybe today could be the day. It was as perfect as it could be, surely.
Harry, surprisingly, was the first one of the four down in the Gryffindor common room. It wasn't empty though. His Quidditch Keeper, Emily, was seated at a desk, looking over an essay of some sort. Harry moved towards her, greeting her quietly.
"What are you doing down so early?" he asked, curiosity getting the better of him.
"Potions," she said tiredly. "It's honestly the worst."
"I wish I could say it gets better," he said, sounding a bit amused.
"At least we don't have Professor Snape anymore," she muttered. "I feel like I might actually be learning something with Slughorn... That is, when he isn't constantly asking after my Quidditch Captain."
Harry groaned. "I'm so sorry."
"It's all right," she admitted, unafraid to look him in the eye. "Gives me an excuse to gush over Harry Potter with someone equally transfixed."
Harry's breath hitched. Wait. What?
"Don't tell anyone though," she added, winking, and Harry all but nearly stumbled over himself.
What!
He looked around, and his eyes immediately settled on Hermione, who seemed to have come to a stop rather abruptly at the bottom of the stairs. Their eyes locked and he felt heat rise up his neck. How much of that had she heard? Had she heard any?
Damn. He hoped not.
Ginny interrupted the moment between Harry and Hermione, gently easing past Hermione's still form. "Breakfast time. Where's Neville?"
"Right here," the Gryffindor wizard called out, coming down the stairs.
Harry couldn't bring himself to say anything so he just followed in silence. He was actually rather disturbed by Emily's comments. She was normally so reserved, even quiet. But then, she was a Gryffindor. How surprised could he be?
Was that what other girls thought as well?
Hermione didn't say anything to him about it, and he even allowed himself the luxury of believing she didn't hear anything. Or, hopefully, she wasn't bothered enough to mention it.
The thing was that Hermione did hear everything. She just didn't want to embarrass him by bringing it up. And, if he did end up liking Emily; who was she to comment? Though, even that thought was disheartening in itself. It was a mere possibility and she was already feeling like she would easily be replaced. It brought about a certain aching in her chest that she hadn't even thought could exist.
It suddenly didn't matter what he said.
Because, for the first time in quite some time, Hermione was scared. The fear of losing him to another was painful even to think about it. She was right when she told him it would happen. He would meet a girl, fall in love, and Hermione would be a passing memory. Maybe not this girl, but there would be one.
And then what?
Soon, he would have to make time for her. It would be ugly. She couldn't face that. She didn't want to face that alone.
She'd have to let go first.
Before he had the chance to.
Because, as it were, on the day that Harry Potter finally, and fully, accepted that he was, in fact, in love with his best friend; something equally terrible happened.
End of Part One
