Chapter One
I Can No Longer Hide
Harry opened his closet door at Number 12 Grimmauld Place and packed his trusty Firebolt broomstick in its case on the top shelf. His right arm ached as he did so because he had taken a nasty hit by a bludger during the last half of the game. Harry Potter was seeker for England's Quidditch team, and had just won his team their third game in a row for the season against France. Harry removed his mud stained robe and revealed a once lanky chest built to a hilt from years of Quidditch training. Pain seared through his muscles, as he rotated his right shoulder." I have got to keep my mind on the game next time or I'll end up at St. Mungo's before the season is out," he thought. The truth was, he had been having a lot of trouble keeping his mind on anything. He removed his wand from the inside of his robes, and with a quick flick of his wrist, used a cleaning charm to remove the multiple stains from the black and gold robes. He placed them into the closet, shut the door, and walked into the bathroom to draw himself a bath.
As the tub began to fill, Harry finished getting undressed. He looked at himself in the mirror, and ran his fingers through his unkempt black hair, an inheritance from his father. With the removal of his circular glasses, he revealed his mother's inherited green eyes. Then there was that scar which still remained on his forehead years after Voldemort's demise. It had faded shortly after the end of the war, but was still there to remind him of his past. His cursed past. And as he saw it right now, his ultimately cursed future.
Every part of Harry's body stung when it made contact with the water. After gingerly settling down into the steaming tub, his muscles slowly began to relax themselves. As they did so, Harry's mind wandered through many thoughts and feelings. Mainly those for the woman. A woman he secretly loved, very secretly. She consumed every thought, and every feeling. Among these included despair and regret because he strongly doubted if a future with her was even possible now. He knew he had done the right thing by pushing her away. It was the only way to protect her from harm...from death. If Voldemort had known that Harry's only weakness was his love for Hermione Granger…..Harry shook the thought away. It was too horrible to even imagine. Harry would have died for her without question. Yet his death would have allowed the Dark Lord to gain full power and enslave the Wizarding and Muggle worlds. Harry had to cast his chance at happiness aside to fulfill his destiny and save the world. Now the fighting had ceased, and Harry's true love sought happiness in the arms at his best friend, Ron Weasley. Harry loved them both far too much to harm their relationship with his feelings or potentially severe himself from either one of them. Yet he knew he could never find a girl that made his soul burn with the fire Hermione possessed every time she touched him. He had tried to move on, and settle down with someone after the war and Hogwarts graduation. He thought he had fallen for Ron's younger sister, Ginny, but ultimately they both found there was nothing really there. It had broken Ginny's heart when they ended their affair, but the two still remained the dear friends they had been from the beginning. Ron and Hermione had been dating for two years now, and both had confessed to Harry that they were hoping the other had marriage on the brain. If Ron married Hermione, Harry knew he would undoubtedly remain a bachelor for the rest of his days. He could not marry a woman who did not have his heart. Whether she knew it or not, his heart belonged only to Hermione, and nothing would ever change that.
A loud crack from down the hallway disrupted Harry's train of thought. He sat up with a start as water splashed from the tub. "Harry!" a voice called, "Harry are you home, mate?" It was Ron. Harry got out of the tub and began to dry himself off. What the devil was Ron doing here at this hour?
"I'm getting out of the out of the tub, Ron. I'll be there in a minute." Harry wrapped his lower torso in a towel and walked down the hallway to find Ron sitting on his sofa with his head in his hands. Quite alarmed, Harry inquired, "Ron, what is it? What's wrong?" Ron raised his face to look his best friend square in the eyes. He could feel his face growing the color of his flaming red hair. Ron squeezed his fingers into a tight fist and then shook them out as he lowered his gaze.
"It's over," he said disgruntledly, "Hermione and I. We're done." Harry could hardly believe his ears. What was going on here? Ron felt the awkwardness and the embarrassment of the silent moment begin to rise. Why was it so hard to say what had happened; to talk about it with a man he considered his brother?
"Ron…I…" Harry stammered running his fingers through his hair. "Did you say or do something to hurt her?"
"No," Ron replied slouching back into the couch. "I did just the opposite, I did something I thought would make her happy." Ron struggled with the words that were fighting all the way past his lips to be said. " I proposed." Harry felt like the world had just been completely thwarted from underneath his feet. The room began to spin in mad circles,
"Where's Hermione?" he asked as he sat in the reclining chair to avoid falling out on his face.
"I really wouldn't know," Ron replied, "There were no cross words between the two of us, neither one of us left angry. It was one of the strangest moments of my life." Ron breathed a deep sigh before blurting out the whole thing. "'Mione and I had discussed getting married before. I can't imagine her being at all surprised when I got down on my knee and said, 'Hermione, I love you. Will your be my wife?' And do you know what she said?" Harry shook his head, 'no.' "She says to me, 'Of course, Ron, but now?' "I say to her, 'Well, yes now. When did you think? We have been dating now for over two years.' Anyway, to make a long story short after a long. Tedious, and wrenching conversation, we both came to the same conclusion. We both love each other, but we are not in love. I guess I asked Hermione to marry me because I thought it was something I had to do, something I owed to her. She explained quite thoroughly that marriage is more than responsibility, security, and friendship. We were both missing something from the other, something deeper. Better to find out now though, eh?" Ron finished as he tried to lighten the moment with a cocked smile and a half chuckle. Harry forced a smile for his friend, but truthfully, he had no idea how to take any of it. Ron reached into his pocket and pulled out the ring that had been meant for Hermione. He stared at it for a moment solemnly as he ran it between his fingers. "I'll never understand women. Always wait until the last minute to make discoveries about themselves."
"You are just as guilty for facing the same truths," Harry retorted. "Where had that come from?" he thought. Ron tore his stare from the ring and smiled at Harry.
"You're absolutely right, mate. Absolutely right. So is she. This is for the best….in the long run…" Ron trailed his words off as he put the ring back in his pocket. Harry felt a twinge of sorrow for Ron deep in his chest cavity, the first honest feeling he had experienced since his friend apparated into the middle of his living room.
"I'm really sorry, Ron. It must hurt finding out this way. Are you going to be all right?" Harry asked. Ron moaned slightly as he got to his feet and stuffed his hands into his pants pockets.
"Yes, of course. It'll take time to move on though, after two years. I did love her….I DO love her Harry, but I am admitting to myself for the first time that we simply were not meant to be. We aren't in love, and she deserves at least that much from life."
"So do you, Ron," Harry added as he stood. Ron shook his head.
"You're still in you're towel, Harry." Harry looked down at his waist and laughed in spite of his seemingly awkward state.
"Suppose I am," he said. "Hey, you should come to Quidditch practice tomorrow after you get off work. Stone's got a family thing to take care of in Oxford and he may not make it back in time. We sure could use the help." The glow on Ron's face began to lift his spirits and a grin spread across his face.
"Excellent! I'll be there!"
"Six o'clock, then. Don't be late. I don't want to be made a fool of in front of my teammates."
"You don't need my help for that, Harry!" Ron chortled. As Harry lunged forward to tackle him, Ron gleamed, snapped his fingers, and with a loud crack had apparated from the room. "See you tomorrow, Harry!" Ron's voice echoed. Harry allowed the last few moments of Ron's visit linger happily in his mind for a while longer before he began to ponder everything else.
So Harry and Hermione had called it quits. Harry felt lousy for Ron, naturally, but he couldn't help but feel his heart begin to beat steadily faster. The girl of his dreams was at long last free for his taking. Or was she? How would Ron feel if he and Hermione started seeing each other? Would Hermione even consider it? HAD she ever considered it? Harry moaned and flopped back into his chair. He removed his glasses and pinched his nose between his eyes in an attempt to alleviate some of the pressure that had been building. The only thing Harry could think to do was simply take each thing as it came. Right now he had to figure out a way to speak with Hermione. Before he could start to stand and go dress there was a knock on his front door. "Odd," he thought, "no one could find Number 12." "Who is it?" Harry called and made a mad dash for his room before hearing the answer. He poked his head in his room, grabbed hi wand from the counter, and magicked himself some clothes. "Who's ther?" Harry called again coming through to the living room. A soft voice came through the door,
"Harry are you alone? It's Hermione." Harry quickly put his wand in his pocked and unlatched the lock. As he opened the door, he looked out to see Hermione standing on his front step with the moonlight silhouetting her figure.
"'Mione," Harry breathed with a smile, "what are you doing here at this hour?"
"May I come in?" she asked.
"Ph, sorry, of course," Harry stammered as he pulled the door further open to allow Hermione to enter.
"I didn't want to disturb you is you were busy, so I decided to use the door instead of apparating." She removed her cloak from around her shoulders and placed it on the same seat Harry had been sitting in earlier. She didn't turn to face him.
"I assume Ron has been here. He probably was looking for me," Hermione said as she turned slowly. Harry observed her red, puffy eyes, her flushed cheeks, and wind blown hair. He couldn't help but see how beautiful she looked underneath all of nature's attempts to dishevel her appearance.
"Ron was really concerned about you. I had an inkling where you might have gone, but under the circumstances, I figured you wanted your privacy."
"You do know me well, Harry," Hermione said as she crossed over to the couch. After she sat, Hermione felt her entire body begin to tense from her shoulders to her clenched hands on her lap. Harry knew that vehement sobs were soon to break, so he delicately moved to sit at Hermione's side. She stared at her hands and said,
"So he told you, then?" she was trying to force the tears back into their ducts. She had made her mind up before she came that she was not going to make a scene and get Harry upset.
"Yeah, he told me the gist of what happened." Hermione was trying so hard to hold it all in. She shut her eyes tightly, and jumped slightly at the touch of Harry's hands on hers. She opened her eyes and saw Harry's fingers gently rubbing her skin. "It's o.k. 'Mione. It's going to be all right." As he said this, Harry moved his right arm across one shoulder to the other, and pulled her into his side tenderly. "You can cry if you have to." She didn't have to be told twice. Hermione slid onto Harry's lap, flung her arms around his neck and sobbed into his shoulder. Though this sudden intimacy caught him off guard, he curled his arms around the small of her back and gently rocked his upper body back and forth.
Slowly, Hermione's sobs began to die down so she could speak "What's wrong…with me…Harry?" She said in his ear. "There's no reason for me to be this…(sniff)…upset.." Harry gently moved her body so she was sitting up straight on his lap with her hands still cuffed around his neck.
"You can cry on my shoulder anytime, Hermione Granger," Harry said softly with a smile. Hermione's lips began to curl upward. "Ah, uh-oh!" Harry said and pointed at her mouth as he grinned devilishly from ear to ear, "That isn't a smile, is it?" Hermione smiled broadly at him. "Huh? Huh, is that a smile? How about a laugh eh?" Harry reached in to tickle Hermione's sides, and she immediately fell into hysterics, all the while trying to knock Harry's hands away.
"Harry, please," Hermione laughed as she fell on the sofa, "We're…hahaha…too…oh, my gosh, hahaha…..old for this! NO!!" she squealed as Harry lept on top of her and laughed all the while tickling every sensitive nerve he could find. For a moment, Hermione forgot all about Ron, and was completely wrapped up in the escapable childish happiness Harry was bringing her so freely. Hermione's laugh was by far Harry's most favorite sound, and for him it was grander to be the producer of the happy shrieks. Eventually, both of them found they were in a state of blissful pain from such exceeding laughter.
Soon thereafter, Hermione found herself lying next to Harry on the sofa with her head on his chest, in his arms. This comforting position was a most special moments they had shared for years. Hermione adored simply laying there with her best friend and listening to his steady heartbeat. It was a consistency in all the chaos she was experiencing inside.
"Harry…" Hermione began.
"Hmm?"
"What all did Ron tell you?" Harry took in a deep sigh. Trying to push it off in nonchalant ness, he breezed,
"Merely that you two were no longer together because you discovered you weren't in love with each other." Hermione chortled.
"Merely? More like entirely," she stated. Then she eased the tension from her voice. "I think we had been putting off marriage because of that fact. Neither of us wanted to hurt the other and admit it though. I know I was too frightened of losing him completely. I suppose he was as well." Harry stroked the top of Hermione's head as she continued, "I love Ron, honestly. I have never doubted it for a minute. Still, there was just something incomplete about us. I had felt that from the beginning, but I always pushed it back into my mind thinking, 'No relationship is perfect.' Yet that void just continued to push us apart until, well, we knew we had to end it." She took another sigh to release the pain that was welling up again and then finished, "Though our parting was mutual, it still hurts, Harry. It hurts so bad." Hermione squeezed his chest and Harry brought her in closer.
"Sshhh, it's all right," Harry kissed the top of her head and inhaled her intoxicating scent. I wish I could take away your pain, 'Mione." She smiled.
"This is honestly helping more than you know." Hermione was tempted to ask Harry a question that had been stewing in her for a long time, but she was going to have to ease into it. "You're so understanding, Harry. You know just want to do and say." Harry giggled with embarrassment.
"Oh, come off it, Hermione," Harry said.
"I'm serious, Harry," Hermione replied, and turned her body so her hand and chin were now resting on his chest. "You are going to make some girl very happy one day." Now, she had to really phrase the question just right. "Honestly, Harry, it's been almost a year and a half since you broke it off with Ginny. You haven't seen another girl since. How long are you going to wait around?" Harry didn't really like where this conversation was going. He could feel his cheeks flushing and he tried to chuckle but it came out more like more of a grunt.
"Until I find that girl for me," Harry said, attempting to cock a smile. Hermione returned this with a childish grin.
"Well, it can't be because you're unpopular with the girls. The world famous Harry Potter who just happens to be England's seeker. I know you have girls throwing themselves at you." Embarrassingly, Harry's voice gave a high crack in his fake laugh. "So, any prospects?" Harry pushed himself out from underneath her hurriedly and stood up next to the couch. Their positioning had become very uncomfortable for him all of a sudden. Hermione was slightly offended, "Harry…" she said turning on her side while propping her upper body up with her elbow.
"Sorry, started to get a little stiff," Harry stammered.
"Liar," Hermione replied with a low lilt in her voice. She looked deep past her reflection in Harry's glasses to his eyes. There was something in there she hadn't seen before. Harry broke her gaze and sat back in his chair. "Harry there's something wrong isn't there," Hermione inquired as she moved down to the other end of the couch to be closer to him. Harry could feel the pounding in his chest move straight into his throat.
"You've been through enough today. You don't need my problems to add to your stress." He refused to look at her. Hermione breathed exasperatedly and rolled her eyes.
"Harry James Potter, don't be stupid. I'm your best friend." She leaned forward to the edge of the sofa and placed her hand on his knee. That prickling feeling that always came over his body began to flow through him again. "You can tell me anything. You've always been there for me, so let me do the same for you. Please, Harry," she turned his head to her, "talk to me." How he wanted to tell her. How he wanted to tell her everything that had been building within him. He wanted to tell her he loved her. How he wanted her to know. How he wanted…..her.
"There is someone, Hermione. There always has been," Harry managed to say quietly. "She has always been there to hold my hand. Always stood by me while others left my side. She knows me better than anyone, even Ron." The silence that followed seemed deafening to Harry. The moment's pause seemed to stretch for an eternity. Tears began to fill Hermione's eyes as Harry's words clicked in her mind.
"Harry, are you trying to say--" she began.
"I am saying that for years I have felt completely empty. I never had the love of parents, and after Sirius died, I felt even more alone than before. I was searching for a true and pure love that one day I discovered I had felt for someone all along." Harry could feel the tears come to his own eyes. He stood up and crossed to the fireplace. He did not want to cry; he didn't want her to see how much these confessing words tore him apart. His emotions were racing and his voice intensified, "What could I do about it though? Voldemort wanted me dead. He killed my parents, he killed Cedric, Remus,…Sirius…and I knew he would ultimately kill anyone who I held dear. I would not let her die. If she never knew it was better, and if I had to be alone for the rest of my days, then that's how it had to be. It was better than if she…." Harry turned to Hermione to emphasize the sincerity of this final statement, "I would not have wanted to live without you in this world, Hermione, even if it meant you found love and happiness elsewhere." At this, Harry broke down and his body shook as he fell to his knees.
All this had hit Hermione so very hard that she just let her heart take over. Before she knew it, she was knelt beside Harry with their arms wrapped in his embrace. "Oh, Harry," she cooed in his ear, "my dear Harry, I am so very sorry. I never knew." Harry pulled away slightly and gazed at her.
"You were supposed to never find out." Harry sniffled. Hermione smoothed a tear from Harry's face. Slowly, surely, tenderly, Hermione brought her lips to his. She did love him. He could feel it in her kiss.
I Can No Longer Hide
Harry opened his closet door at Number 12 Grimmauld Place and packed his trusty Firebolt broomstick in its case on the top shelf. His right arm ached as he did so because he had taken a nasty hit by a bludger during the last half of the game. Harry Potter was seeker for England's Quidditch team, and had just won his team their third game in a row for the season against France. Harry removed his mud stained robe and revealed a once lanky chest built to a hilt from years of Quidditch training. Pain seared through his muscles, as he rotated his right shoulder." I have got to keep my mind on the game next time or I'll end up at St. Mungo's before the season is out," he thought. The truth was, he had been having a lot of trouble keeping his mind on anything. He removed his wand from the inside of his robes, and with a quick flick of his wrist, used a cleaning charm to remove the multiple stains from the black and gold robes. He placed them into the closet, shut the door, and walked into the bathroom to draw himself a bath.
As the tub began to fill, Harry finished getting undressed. He looked at himself in the mirror, and ran his fingers through his unkempt black hair, an inheritance from his father. With the removal of his circular glasses, he revealed his mother's inherited green eyes. Then there was that scar which still remained on his forehead years after Voldemort's demise. It had faded shortly after the end of the war, but was still there to remind him of his past. His cursed past. And as he saw it right now, his ultimately cursed future.
Every part of Harry's body stung when it made contact with the water. After gingerly settling down into the steaming tub, his muscles slowly began to relax themselves. As they did so, Harry's mind wandered through many thoughts and feelings. Mainly those for the woman. A woman he secretly loved, very secretly. She consumed every thought, and every feeling. Among these included despair and regret because he strongly doubted if a future with her was even possible now. He knew he had done the right thing by pushing her away. It was the only way to protect her from harm...from death. If Voldemort had known that Harry's only weakness was his love for Hermione Granger…..Harry shook the thought away. It was too horrible to even imagine. Harry would have died for her without question. Yet his death would have allowed the Dark Lord to gain full power and enslave the Wizarding and Muggle worlds. Harry had to cast his chance at happiness aside to fulfill his destiny and save the world. Now the fighting had ceased, and Harry's true love sought happiness in the arms at his best friend, Ron Weasley. Harry loved them both far too much to harm their relationship with his feelings or potentially severe himself from either one of them. Yet he knew he could never find a girl that made his soul burn with the fire Hermione possessed every time she touched him. He had tried to move on, and settle down with someone after the war and Hogwarts graduation. He thought he had fallen for Ron's younger sister, Ginny, but ultimately they both found there was nothing really there. It had broken Ginny's heart when they ended their affair, but the two still remained the dear friends they had been from the beginning. Ron and Hermione had been dating for two years now, and both had confessed to Harry that they were hoping the other had marriage on the brain. If Ron married Hermione, Harry knew he would undoubtedly remain a bachelor for the rest of his days. He could not marry a woman who did not have his heart. Whether she knew it or not, his heart belonged only to Hermione, and nothing would ever change that.
A loud crack from down the hallway disrupted Harry's train of thought. He sat up with a start as water splashed from the tub. "Harry!" a voice called, "Harry are you home, mate?" It was Ron. Harry got out of the tub and began to dry himself off. What the devil was Ron doing here at this hour?
"I'm getting out of the out of the tub, Ron. I'll be there in a minute." Harry wrapped his lower torso in a towel and walked down the hallway to find Ron sitting on his sofa with his head in his hands. Quite alarmed, Harry inquired, "Ron, what is it? What's wrong?" Ron raised his face to look his best friend square in the eyes. He could feel his face growing the color of his flaming red hair. Ron squeezed his fingers into a tight fist and then shook them out as he lowered his gaze.
"It's over," he said disgruntledly, "Hermione and I. We're done." Harry could hardly believe his ears. What was going on here? Ron felt the awkwardness and the embarrassment of the silent moment begin to rise. Why was it so hard to say what had happened; to talk about it with a man he considered his brother?
"Ron…I…" Harry stammered running his fingers through his hair. "Did you say or do something to hurt her?"
"No," Ron replied slouching back into the couch. "I did just the opposite, I did something I thought would make her happy." Ron struggled with the words that were fighting all the way past his lips to be said. " I proposed." Harry felt like the world had just been completely thwarted from underneath his feet. The room began to spin in mad circles,
"Where's Hermione?" he asked as he sat in the reclining chair to avoid falling out on his face.
"I really wouldn't know," Ron replied, "There were no cross words between the two of us, neither one of us left angry. It was one of the strangest moments of my life." Ron breathed a deep sigh before blurting out the whole thing. "'Mione and I had discussed getting married before. I can't imagine her being at all surprised when I got down on my knee and said, 'Hermione, I love you. Will your be my wife?' And do you know what she said?" Harry shook his head, 'no.' "She says to me, 'Of course, Ron, but now?' "I say to her, 'Well, yes now. When did you think? We have been dating now for over two years.' Anyway, to make a long story short after a long. Tedious, and wrenching conversation, we both came to the same conclusion. We both love each other, but we are not in love. I guess I asked Hermione to marry me because I thought it was something I had to do, something I owed to her. She explained quite thoroughly that marriage is more than responsibility, security, and friendship. We were both missing something from the other, something deeper. Better to find out now though, eh?" Ron finished as he tried to lighten the moment with a cocked smile and a half chuckle. Harry forced a smile for his friend, but truthfully, he had no idea how to take any of it. Ron reached into his pocket and pulled out the ring that had been meant for Hermione. He stared at it for a moment solemnly as he ran it between his fingers. "I'll never understand women. Always wait until the last minute to make discoveries about themselves."
"You are just as guilty for facing the same truths," Harry retorted. "Where had that come from?" he thought. Ron tore his stare from the ring and smiled at Harry.
"You're absolutely right, mate. Absolutely right. So is she. This is for the best….in the long run…" Ron trailed his words off as he put the ring back in his pocket. Harry felt a twinge of sorrow for Ron deep in his chest cavity, the first honest feeling he had experienced since his friend apparated into the middle of his living room.
"I'm really sorry, Ron. It must hurt finding out this way. Are you going to be all right?" Harry asked. Ron moaned slightly as he got to his feet and stuffed his hands into his pants pockets.
"Yes, of course. It'll take time to move on though, after two years. I did love her….I DO love her Harry, but I am admitting to myself for the first time that we simply were not meant to be. We aren't in love, and she deserves at least that much from life."
"So do you, Ron," Harry added as he stood. Ron shook his head.
"You're still in you're towel, Harry." Harry looked down at his waist and laughed in spite of his seemingly awkward state.
"Suppose I am," he said. "Hey, you should come to Quidditch practice tomorrow after you get off work. Stone's got a family thing to take care of in Oxford and he may not make it back in time. We sure could use the help." The glow on Ron's face began to lift his spirits and a grin spread across his face.
"Excellent! I'll be there!"
"Six o'clock, then. Don't be late. I don't want to be made a fool of in front of my teammates."
"You don't need my help for that, Harry!" Ron chortled. As Harry lunged forward to tackle him, Ron gleamed, snapped his fingers, and with a loud crack had apparated from the room. "See you tomorrow, Harry!" Ron's voice echoed. Harry allowed the last few moments of Ron's visit linger happily in his mind for a while longer before he began to ponder everything else.
So Harry and Hermione had called it quits. Harry felt lousy for Ron, naturally, but he couldn't help but feel his heart begin to beat steadily faster. The girl of his dreams was at long last free for his taking. Or was she? How would Ron feel if he and Hermione started seeing each other? Would Hermione even consider it? HAD she ever considered it? Harry moaned and flopped back into his chair. He removed his glasses and pinched his nose between his eyes in an attempt to alleviate some of the pressure that had been building. The only thing Harry could think to do was simply take each thing as it came. Right now he had to figure out a way to speak with Hermione. Before he could start to stand and go dress there was a knock on his front door. "Odd," he thought, "no one could find Number 12." "Who is it?" Harry called and made a mad dash for his room before hearing the answer. He poked his head in his room, grabbed hi wand from the counter, and magicked himself some clothes. "Who's ther?" Harry called again coming through to the living room. A soft voice came through the door,
"Harry are you alone? It's Hermione." Harry quickly put his wand in his pocked and unlatched the lock. As he opened the door, he looked out to see Hermione standing on his front step with the moonlight silhouetting her figure.
"'Mione," Harry breathed with a smile, "what are you doing here at this hour?"
"May I come in?" she asked.
"Ph, sorry, of course," Harry stammered as he pulled the door further open to allow Hermione to enter.
"I didn't want to disturb you is you were busy, so I decided to use the door instead of apparating." She removed her cloak from around her shoulders and placed it on the same seat Harry had been sitting in earlier. She didn't turn to face him.
"I assume Ron has been here. He probably was looking for me," Hermione said as she turned slowly. Harry observed her red, puffy eyes, her flushed cheeks, and wind blown hair. He couldn't help but see how beautiful she looked underneath all of nature's attempts to dishevel her appearance.
"Ron was really concerned about you. I had an inkling where you might have gone, but under the circumstances, I figured you wanted your privacy."
"You do know me well, Harry," Hermione said as she crossed over to the couch. After she sat, Hermione felt her entire body begin to tense from her shoulders to her clenched hands on her lap. Harry knew that vehement sobs were soon to break, so he delicately moved to sit at Hermione's side. She stared at her hands and said,
"So he told you, then?" she was trying to force the tears back into their ducts. She had made her mind up before she came that she was not going to make a scene and get Harry upset.
"Yeah, he told me the gist of what happened." Hermione was trying so hard to hold it all in. She shut her eyes tightly, and jumped slightly at the touch of Harry's hands on hers. She opened her eyes and saw Harry's fingers gently rubbing her skin. "It's o.k. 'Mione. It's going to be all right." As he said this, Harry moved his right arm across one shoulder to the other, and pulled her into his side tenderly. "You can cry if you have to." She didn't have to be told twice. Hermione slid onto Harry's lap, flung her arms around his neck and sobbed into his shoulder. Though this sudden intimacy caught him off guard, he curled his arms around the small of her back and gently rocked his upper body back and forth.
Slowly, Hermione's sobs began to die down so she could speak "What's wrong…with me…Harry?" She said in his ear. "There's no reason for me to be this…(sniff)…upset.." Harry gently moved her body so she was sitting up straight on his lap with her hands still cuffed around his neck.
"You can cry on my shoulder anytime, Hermione Granger," Harry said softly with a smile. Hermione's lips began to curl upward. "Ah, uh-oh!" Harry said and pointed at her mouth as he grinned devilishly from ear to ear, "That isn't a smile, is it?" Hermione smiled broadly at him. "Huh? Huh, is that a smile? How about a laugh eh?" Harry reached in to tickle Hermione's sides, and she immediately fell into hysterics, all the while trying to knock Harry's hands away.
"Harry, please," Hermione laughed as she fell on the sofa, "We're…hahaha…too…oh, my gosh, hahaha…..old for this! NO!!" she squealed as Harry lept on top of her and laughed all the while tickling every sensitive nerve he could find. For a moment, Hermione forgot all about Ron, and was completely wrapped up in the escapable childish happiness Harry was bringing her so freely. Hermione's laugh was by far Harry's most favorite sound, and for him it was grander to be the producer of the happy shrieks. Eventually, both of them found they were in a state of blissful pain from such exceeding laughter.
Soon thereafter, Hermione found herself lying next to Harry on the sofa with her head on his chest, in his arms. This comforting position was a most special moments they had shared for years. Hermione adored simply laying there with her best friend and listening to his steady heartbeat. It was a consistency in all the chaos she was experiencing inside.
"Harry…" Hermione began.
"Hmm?"
"What all did Ron tell you?" Harry took in a deep sigh. Trying to push it off in nonchalant ness, he breezed,
"Merely that you two were no longer together because you discovered you weren't in love with each other." Hermione chortled.
"Merely? More like entirely," she stated. Then she eased the tension from her voice. "I think we had been putting off marriage because of that fact. Neither of us wanted to hurt the other and admit it though. I know I was too frightened of losing him completely. I suppose he was as well." Harry stroked the top of Hermione's head as she continued, "I love Ron, honestly. I have never doubted it for a minute. Still, there was just something incomplete about us. I had felt that from the beginning, but I always pushed it back into my mind thinking, 'No relationship is perfect.' Yet that void just continued to push us apart until, well, we knew we had to end it." She took another sigh to release the pain that was welling up again and then finished, "Though our parting was mutual, it still hurts, Harry. It hurts so bad." Hermione squeezed his chest and Harry brought her in closer.
"Sshhh, it's all right," Harry kissed the top of her head and inhaled her intoxicating scent. I wish I could take away your pain, 'Mione." She smiled.
"This is honestly helping more than you know." Hermione was tempted to ask Harry a question that had been stewing in her for a long time, but she was going to have to ease into it. "You're so understanding, Harry. You know just want to do and say." Harry giggled with embarrassment.
"Oh, come off it, Hermione," Harry said.
"I'm serious, Harry," Hermione replied, and turned her body so her hand and chin were now resting on his chest. "You are going to make some girl very happy one day." Now, she had to really phrase the question just right. "Honestly, Harry, it's been almost a year and a half since you broke it off with Ginny. You haven't seen another girl since. How long are you going to wait around?" Harry didn't really like where this conversation was going. He could feel his cheeks flushing and he tried to chuckle but it came out more like more of a grunt.
"Until I find that girl for me," Harry said, attempting to cock a smile. Hermione returned this with a childish grin.
"Well, it can't be because you're unpopular with the girls. The world famous Harry Potter who just happens to be England's seeker. I know you have girls throwing themselves at you." Embarrassingly, Harry's voice gave a high crack in his fake laugh. "So, any prospects?" Harry pushed himself out from underneath her hurriedly and stood up next to the couch. Their positioning had become very uncomfortable for him all of a sudden. Hermione was slightly offended, "Harry…" she said turning on her side while propping her upper body up with her elbow.
"Sorry, started to get a little stiff," Harry stammered.
"Liar," Hermione replied with a low lilt in her voice. She looked deep past her reflection in Harry's glasses to his eyes. There was something in there she hadn't seen before. Harry broke her gaze and sat back in his chair. "Harry there's something wrong isn't there," Hermione inquired as she moved down to the other end of the couch to be closer to him. Harry could feel the pounding in his chest move straight into his throat.
"You've been through enough today. You don't need my problems to add to your stress." He refused to look at her. Hermione breathed exasperatedly and rolled her eyes.
"Harry James Potter, don't be stupid. I'm your best friend." She leaned forward to the edge of the sofa and placed her hand on his knee. That prickling feeling that always came over his body began to flow through him again. "You can tell me anything. You've always been there for me, so let me do the same for you. Please, Harry," she turned his head to her, "talk to me." How he wanted to tell her. How he wanted to tell her everything that had been building within him. He wanted to tell her he loved her. How he wanted her to know. How he wanted…..her.
"There is someone, Hermione. There always has been," Harry managed to say quietly. "She has always been there to hold my hand. Always stood by me while others left my side. She knows me better than anyone, even Ron." The silence that followed seemed deafening to Harry. The moment's pause seemed to stretch for an eternity. Tears began to fill Hermione's eyes as Harry's words clicked in her mind.
"Harry, are you trying to say--" she began.
"I am saying that for years I have felt completely empty. I never had the love of parents, and after Sirius died, I felt even more alone than before. I was searching for a true and pure love that one day I discovered I had felt for someone all along." Harry could feel the tears come to his own eyes. He stood up and crossed to the fireplace. He did not want to cry; he didn't want her to see how much these confessing words tore him apart. His emotions were racing and his voice intensified, "What could I do about it though? Voldemort wanted me dead. He killed my parents, he killed Cedric, Remus,…Sirius…and I knew he would ultimately kill anyone who I held dear. I would not let her die. If she never knew it was better, and if I had to be alone for the rest of my days, then that's how it had to be. It was better than if she…." Harry turned to Hermione to emphasize the sincerity of this final statement, "I would not have wanted to live without you in this world, Hermione, even if it meant you found love and happiness elsewhere." At this, Harry broke down and his body shook as he fell to his knees.
All this had hit Hermione so very hard that she just let her heart take over. Before she knew it, she was knelt beside Harry with their arms wrapped in his embrace. "Oh, Harry," she cooed in his ear, "my dear Harry, I am so very sorry. I never knew." Harry pulled away slightly and gazed at her.
"You were supposed to never find out." Harry sniffled. Hermione smoothed a tear from Harry's face. Slowly, surely, tenderly, Hermione brought her lips to his. She did love him. He could feel it in her kiss.