=This bunny bit me one evening, and even though I -never- write
Harry/Hermione, I ended up writing this. Enjoy.=
She throws the bottle down, and it breaks on the floor. The man behind the counter gives her a dirty look, but she ignores it as she runs over to him, and flings her arms around his neck.
"It's you! I just knew it was you!"
He unwinds her arm from his neck. "It's me."
"But, but, you're not dead."
"Right. I'm not dead." He pinches his left arm, though, as if to make sure.
She gives him an 'I don't appreciate your sarcasm, but I can't say anything because I thought you had been dead for twenty years' look. "We thought you were dead."
"Did you?"
Her look intensifies. "We were so worried. What happened to you?"
"Not worried enough to be snogging Weasley, after what I'd been through."
"Oh- oh- oh- Harry! You're so childish sometimes-"
"DO YOU KNOW WHAT HAPPENED TO ME?" He nearly puts his fist through a case of shrivelfigs, and the other patrons of the shop look up. They've recognized him now, but they're confused.
"No! If only you'd.."
He smirks. "If only I'd broken up you and Ron's little love session?"
The look on her face is one of absolute horror. "I- I didn't- we didn't- we thought you were dead!"
"This we've been over. You though I was dead, when in actuality I'd been tortured to nearly the brink of insanity. Maybe past the brink- do you really know when you're insane? I think I've watched more people die then I've ever even spoken to in my entire life. I killed a couple too."
She moves to speak, but he waves his hand. He's not done.
"I guess you don't know, I guess you didn't notice how much I love you. After all, you didn't notice Ron for the first seven years anyway. Actually, you didn't seem to notice him until then. Well I loved you just as long. I was just the one who had to kill Voldemort, right? The hero."
"Harry."
"Hermione."
"Why?"
"Why what?" He asks this, even though he knows full well what she's asking about.
"Why did you let everyone think you were dead?"
"Nobody cared anyway. Everybody who could of cared was dead, hell, died in front of me! Remus, Ginny, Luna, Neville, Dumbledore, hell, even Snape! And then, you too-"
"Harry." She says his name again, but different then the first two times. This time it's gentle, not harsh or unfeeling. "I'm sorry." And she touches his hand. But this single action is different then any previous one, then any previous words, because she's sure she means it this time. And he doesn't push her away.
She throws the bottle down, and it breaks on the floor. The man behind the counter gives her a dirty look, but she ignores it as she runs over to him, and flings her arms around his neck.
"It's you! I just knew it was you!"
He unwinds her arm from his neck. "It's me."
"But, but, you're not dead."
"Right. I'm not dead." He pinches his left arm, though, as if to make sure.
She gives him an 'I don't appreciate your sarcasm, but I can't say anything because I thought you had been dead for twenty years' look. "We thought you were dead."
"Did you?"
Her look intensifies. "We were so worried. What happened to you?"
"Not worried enough to be snogging Weasley, after what I'd been through."
"Oh- oh- oh- Harry! You're so childish sometimes-"
"DO YOU KNOW WHAT HAPPENED TO ME?" He nearly puts his fist through a case of shrivelfigs, and the other patrons of the shop look up. They've recognized him now, but they're confused.
"No! If only you'd.."
He smirks. "If only I'd broken up you and Ron's little love session?"
The look on her face is one of absolute horror. "I- I didn't- we didn't- we thought you were dead!"
"This we've been over. You though I was dead, when in actuality I'd been tortured to nearly the brink of insanity. Maybe past the brink- do you really know when you're insane? I think I've watched more people die then I've ever even spoken to in my entire life. I killed a couple too."
She moves to speak, but he waves his hand. He's not done.
"I guess you don't know, I guess you didn't notice how much I love you. After all, you didn't notice Ron for the first seven years anyway. Actually, you didn't seem to notice him until then. Well I loved you just as long. I was just the one who had to kill Voldemort, right? The hero."
"Harry."
"Hermione."
"Why?"
"Why what?" He asks this, even though he knows full well what she's asking about.
"Why did you let everyone think you were dead?"
"Nobody cared anyway. Everybody who could of cared was dead, hell, died in front of me! Remus, Ginny, Luna, Neville, Dumbledore, hell, even Snape! And then, you too-"
"Harry." She says his name again, but different then the first two times. This time it's gentle, not harsh or unfeeling. "I'm sorry." And she touches his hand. But this single action is different then any previous one, then any previous words, because she's sure she means it this time. And he doesn't push her away.