AN: Answers to any questions you might have: Yes, it's in Filipino. No, I did not translate it, nor will I bother to, because I think it's beautiful as it is. Yes, in fact, I AM proud of my nationality. And yes, harana means "serenade" in English.

Disclaimer: I do not own Harry Potter, and I did not write Harana. Parokya Ni Edgar performed it, though.

Harana

Uso pa ba ang harana?

            Ron shivered as they plodded through the grass, the dew-soaking the hem of his very best trousers. "Harry..." he whined quietly, looking up at the ghostly moon that hung above him, trying not to lose sight of Harry, who was slightly ahead of him.

            "Are you even sure that these serenade things are still in style?"

Marahil ikaw ay nagtataka

            Up in her room, Hermione glanced at the clock, and raised a skeptical eyebrow. "It's one in the morning. Harry had better have a good explanation for waking me up at this hour." She stepped out onto her balcony, drawing a jacket over her thin pajamas, and looking curiously down at the two figures in her garden.

            "What are they doing?!" she thought incredulously. "And is that a guitar in his hand?!"

Sino ba itong mukhang gago

            Ron rubbed his hands together briskly, trying to blow some warmth into them as Harry slowly opened the case, pulled out the guitar and...

            ... dropped to his knees.

            Ron slapped his forehead. "Will you please remind me again, Harry, why we're standing out here, freezing our arses off in Hermione's garden, looking like two complete idiots?!" Harry's head was bent as he tuned the guitar, and Ron could only see a fall of black hair and the play of shadows.

            Finally, Harry looked up at Hermione, looking amusedly down at them as he knelt in the grass with the guitar in his hands. "We're doing this, Ron," he said quietly, "because I love her."

Nakandarapa sa pagkanta

at

Nasisintunado sa kaba

            Ron watched incredulously as Harry strummed a few shaky chords that echoed into the still night, and opening his mouth, Harry began to sing in an equally shaky voice. Ron was silent, registering the entire scene, Hermione in her balcony, expression unclear, Harry on his knees, singing shakily and playing the only song he was able to learn.

            He shook his head, his hair burnished bronze in the pale moonlight. "He's gone bonkers."

Mayroon pang dalang mga rosas

Suot nama'y maong na kupas

            Ron stood there uncomfortably, taking in the uncertain melody and Harry's barely musical voice. He noted down the beautiful bouquet of red, red roses at his feet, knowing he was supposed to present them to Hermione 'when Harry's done making a fool out of himself...' he muttered.

At nariyan pa ang barkada nakaporma't nakabarong

Sa awiting daig pang minus-one at sing along

            Harry continued strumming and plucking at the borrowed guitar, worrying about the way his fingers shook, about the way his heart pounded furiously in his chest, and about the beautiful girl watching him right then and there.

            He could hear his voice trembling, and he knew he had missed some notes, but he couldn't worry about that now. It's now or never. he thought, and he continued to sing up to the stars for that girl.

Puno ang langit ng bituwin

At kay lamig pa ng hangin

            The sky was twinkling with stars, as if full of some mirth at the amusing scene below it. Ron glanced up disinterestedly, and Professor Sinistra's voice echoed unwelcomingly in his mind. "The stars are unusually bright tonight. And there are plenty of them. That means someone out there's falling in love."

            And the class had laughed then.

            But now, as Ron stood there, and gave up counting stars, he glanced one more time at the shadowy figure of Harry playing the battered guitar as if his life depended on it. The broken, untrained and weak melody floated through the cold, crisp air, and Ron smiled in spite of himself.

            "Maybe Sinistra was right after all."

Sa'yong tingin, ako'y nababaliw

Giliw

            Harry dared to glance up from the guitar, to look up for the first time at Hermione. He saw her there, silhouetted against the moon as bright as a supernova, her hands clasped together, her face unreadable. She caught his gaze, and their eyes locked for a beautiful forever.

            He felt his throat dry up, and his breath catch in his throat. He swallowed nervously, looked away and continued the song, thinking wildly "If only she knew what she's doing to me."

At sa awitin kong ito

Sana maibigan mo

            Ron leaned against a tree and lazily blew at some floating strands of hair. He remembered Harry's exact words as they stood in the shadows of Hermione's garden, one hand gripping the guitar case, the other balled up into a determined fist.

            "I'm doing this for Hermione."

            Ron had thrown up his hands in despair at Harry's stubborn expression. "What for?! We all know you're madly in love with her..." Harry had looked away, up at the window where Hermione waited. "Yes, I know. But I just want to know," he whispered. "if she loves me too."

            Ron looked back at Harry. "Isn't that song over yet?" he wondered aimlessly.

Ibubuhos ko ang buong puso ko

Sa isang munting harana para sa iyo

            "I'll pour my heart and soul into this serenade... just for her." Harry whispered under his breath as he strummed the interlude with fingers that already ahced from the cold and the strain. Behind him, Ron stifled sneezes and thought back about everything that Harry had done just to put this little midnight serenade together.

            From guitar lessons with Dean to plotting their midnight excursion out on a Muggle map to borrowing Sirius' old guitar and to spending Galleons on a bouquet of roses just for her.

            Ron shook his head slowly. "Just for her." he repeated quietly.

Hindi ba't parang isang sine?

Isang pelikulang romantiko

            It seemed like a scene straight from a romance movie, with the wind blowing chill and the stars frosted silver against the sky. Hermione was standing on the balcony, very still, and the wind twined its cold fingers in her tousled curls. Harry was there, below, kneeling on the grass, playing the guitar in a manner that seemed both pathetic and beautiful.

            Ron rubbed his nose, which seemed to have turned numb because of the cold. "Yeah, straight from a movie." Then he glanced critically towards Harry and his music. "If not for that awful sound."

Hindi ba't ikaw ang bidang artista at ako'y iyong leading man

            Harry continued to sing, trying to pull out the notes correctly, counting silently along with the faulty guitar strings. Doesn't this look so beautiful? he thought dazedly, not daring to look up at Hermione again, in case he lose his place for good. So beautiful... she's the star of the movie and I'm her leading man...

Sa istoryang nagwawakas sa pag-ibig na wagas

            "And this story will end with a love that will last forevermore."

            The music stopped. Harry stopped dead. A silence reigned.

"Did I just say that out loud?" he finally said weakly. And behind him, Ron laughed.

"Yes, you did." came the familiar voice from above.

They saw Hermione dash into her house in a flurry of terry cloth and bushy hair.

Ron patted Harry on the back as the dark-haired boy buried his face in his hands. "She's coming down for you, Romeo."

Puno ang langit ng bituwin

At kay lamig pa ng hangin

Harry set the guitar down carefully, back into its tattered case. He picked up the bouquet of roses with a trembling hand. "She's coming..." Ron heard him whisper nervously as he smoothed down his hair. Ron grinned widely at him. "In that case, I'll just be leaving you then."

"Wait!"

Harry had no time to protest before the front door banged open and Hermione walked into the garden.

Sa iyong tingin

Ako'y nababaliw

Giliw

Harry glanced at her and quailed. She wasn't angry, she wasn't disappointed, and her face was completely unreadable. But still, one look at her set his heart pounding and his face on fire.

"Where in bloody hell did Ron go?" he wondered dazedly as she drew nearer and nearer, and he weakly held out the roses to her. The poem he was supposed to recite, the hand movements and elegant manner he had so carefully memorized flew out of his head the instant Hermione ran to him and flung her arms around his neck.

At sa awitin kong ito

Sana maibigan mo

"Harry! It was wonderful... so sweet... no one's ever done anything like this for me before... play beautifully... thank you so much..."

Harry closed his eyes and let her words wash over him like a tide of relief. She liked it. She liked it. She liked it.

She loved it.

Harry smiled as Hermione pulled away, breathless and eyes shining. He offered her the roses, which she took from him with a squeal of delight.

"Harry, thank you so much. It was beautiful-" they could hear Ron cough meaningfully in the bushes behind them. "-thank you..." She smiled up at him, and Harry lost his powers of speech.

Ibubuhos ko ang buong puso ko

Sa isang munting harana para sa iyo

Hermione held the door open. "Come in, it's awfully cold out here."

As Harry walked into her house, she reached out, and touched his arm. "One promise, Harry, love. Will you," she looked meaningfully at the guitar. "sing for me again?"