Disclaimer: This story is based on characters and situations created and owned by JK Rowling, various publishers including but not limited to Bloomsbury Books, Scholastic Books and Raincoast Books, and Warner Bros., Inc. No money is being made and no copyright or trademark infringement is intended.

Summary: An impulsive moment leads Harry to a situation he had hoped he'd never be in. After revealing his feelings, Harry is faced with the consequences. SLASH.

A/N: Constructive Criticism is appreciated. Flames are taken for what they're worth, meaningless drivel. This story will probably come in three parts, one told from each POV of the trio, but that may change. Please review.

* * * * *

"I love him,"

"You love him?" I repeat, feeling as if he's just stabbed me in the stomach.

"Yes," comes his quiet reply, barely above a whisper.

"Not in the way you love me," I say, feeling the tears collecting in my eyes.

"No, in a different way," He says, his eyes softening.

I nod blindly turning towards the door. He lays his hand on my arm and I freeze. I don't look up at him, I can feel my tears spilling over and I don't want him to see me cry.

"Do you hate me?"

I feel like he's just twisted the knife in my stomach.

"Oh, Harry, I could never hate you."

"Does he?" he asks worry written all over his face.

I don't know what to say.

"He could never hate you either," I hear myself whisper.

He's so close and he looks like he's in so much pain that I reach out and hug him tightly. For so long I've wondered what it would feel like to hug him like this, to be this close to him, but never under these circumstances. He squeezes back gently and I pull away. My face is wet and I quickly try to wipe away the tears before he says anything about them.

"Things aren't going to go back to normal, are they?"

"No, they're not," I say, wishing they would. Things aren't supposed to be like this. Harry isn't supposed to be in love with Ron. He's supposed to be in love with me.

* * * * *

Ron says nothing as he sits beside me in Charms. On the other side of me I can feel Harry tense, but he continues to study his book quietly. I hate that they've put me in the middle.

I hate that they've put me in this situation, period.

I know I have to put my feelings aside, but it's so hard. I don't understand. I don't know what to do.

"Hermione, can I borrow a quill?" Ron asks, not looking at me.

I hand him an extra, but I don't let go of it until he looks me in the eye. I can tell he doesn't want to talk about it. He probably thinks I've taken Harry's side. He once told me in fourth year that I always took Harry's side. I think that was when he had started to realize how I felt about Harry, but I'm not sure. Everyone had realized how I felt about Harry our fifth year, except Harry. Now I know why.

I finally let go and Ron looks down at his paper without so much as another word, his ears turning red at the tips.

Through out the rest of the day they don't one word to one another. Though I can tell that Harry wants to, but he's holding back until Ron's ready. It makes me sick.

I try to imagine my best friends snogging each other and I just can't. I can't.

I always thought I was very understanding when it came to differences in people, but this is different. This is personal.

I can't blame Ron for avoiding Harry somewhat. It isn't that I love Harry any less, I don't. I love him the same way I did before all of this happened, but I just don't understand him anymore. Maybe I don't want to.

* * * * *

Ron and I are sitting in the sun looking across the lake. Harry is at Quidditch practice. We haven't said anything to one another in over twenty minutes. All we've done is stare out across the dark water.

"What are you going to do about it?" I ask, unable to take the silence any longer.

Ron looks over at me, squinting slightly against the sun.

"Do?"

"Yes," I say exasperated, "What are you going to do? You can't just ignore it forever."

He says nothing as he turns back towards the lake.

"He said he loved you," I say feeling the steel twist again in my stomach.

"What am I supposed to do?" Ron asks in a low voice. "My best friend kissed me last night. And now you say he says he loves me? Just tell me what I'm supposed to do, because I have no idea."

"You have to tell him how you feel," I say. "Even if it isn't the same way."

"What if he tries to kiss me again?" he says, sounding almost scared.

"He said that was an accident," I say. "Just tell him you don't feel the same way about him."

"This is hard for you, isn't it?" he says sitting up and studying my face.

"No," I say darkly, "I'm perfectly fine that Harry is..."

"Is...?"

"Confused," I say feeling my cheeks warm. "He's confused."

"He's confused!"

"Look, Ron, I have to go study. Talk to him, after practice all right? Promise me."

"Hermione..."

"Ron, just talk to him, will you?" I snap.

"All right, Hermione. I'll talk to him."

* * * * *

I walk back to the castle alone. I've done my duty. I've made Ron promise to talk to Harry. He will, he always keeps his word. Harry will no doubt tell Ron what he told me this morning. Ron will...

I don't know what Ron will do.

It's none of my business, though. I've always been the odd one out. This is the first time I've ever felt like the third wheel before. Two is company and three is a crowd.

It's worse than the ache in my chest from knowing that Harry will always be out of my reach now. I haven't been bested by a Fluer Delaclour look alike, but rather by a tall, lanky redhead with freckles. Of course I see what Harry would find attractive in Ron. That doesn't change the fact that Harry is Harry and Ron is Ron and they just shouldn't be attracted to one another.

I've been trying all day to try to wrap my mind around the idea, but have had no success.

It's not the shame of knowing that Lavender and Parvati will have a field day with this when it comes out. They're always looking for things to get at me with. They're jealous of my grades and the fact that I spend so much time with Harry. Though now that very thing they are most jealous of will be what they will use against me.

It's more than the ache and the shame. It's the guilt.

Guilt at feeling angry at Harry for feeling something that he obviously can't help but feel. Guilt at not being able to accept the fact that he's...not who I thought he was.

Most people think I'm a good person, an understand friend. If today has taught me anything, I've found that's not true. I'm just like everyone else, if not worse.

I'm so disappointed.

* * * * *

A/N: I realize this was a very short chapter, but I promise to make up for it in the next.