Clandestine Rendezvous

Chapter 3: Confession

----1----

Hermione stood by the window of the infirmary, watching as the Gryffindors levitated her presents out of the room. She still felt a little weak and her head throbbed when she thought too much, but otherwise, she had healed fairly well. Madam Pomfrey had assured her that this was natural—for victims of runespoors anyway—and that Hermione would get stronger in a few days if she didn't strain herself too much.

Ron had snorted at this. "If I know Hermione, the first thing she'll do when she gets out of the hospital wing is start on all the homework she missed." Hermione smiled. How true.

From her viewpoint, she could see the Quidditch field where Harry and Ron had just landed from Quidditch practice. They had promised to come back from practice early to help her finish moving the mounds of gifts back to the Gryffindor Common Room. Hermione was about to wave at them when she saw Cho walk up to Harry. Ron nodded at them and departed, but not before he spotted Hermione and waved. I'll be right there, he mouthed. Hermione nodded, then turned her attention back to Harry and Cho, who were talking together, and from the looks of it, talking quite seriously. Hermione couldn't hear them so she read the intent looks on their faces instead.

When they finished Cho took a few steps back from a stunned Harry, took the hand of a Ravenclaw nearby, and walked off without so much as a glance in Harry's direction. Harry gaped at her retreating figure for quite some time, as if dazzled by the shine of her black hair swaying in the wind. When he finally could control himself, he promptly turned and stalked off in the other direction.

Hermione was staggered, but also quite excited.

It was apparent that Cho had broken up with Harry—something no one would have expected, considering their recent closeness in the last couple of weeks. What was better was that Harry was no longer forbidden to Hermione and now she could, and would, make her move. She had been planning and hoping since the beginning of the year to tell Harry how she felt, and this was as good a time as any.

She glanced back at the hospital room behind her. The Gryffindors had long finished moving everything out, and only Neville was left to accompany her. Hermione smiled at the chubby boy.

"Go ahead, all right? I have a few things to get to before I go back to the Gryffindor Tower."

Neville looked a little flustered, as if he thought leaving Hermione alone was a bad idea, but didn't voice his objections. He nodded and scuttled off. Hermione slung her bookbag, already weighed down by extra textbooks, and headed off, ready to find Harry.

----2----

"What was their excuse?"

Dumbledore looked over the tips of his half-moon glasses at Professor McGonagall. It was Saturday afternoon, and he was enjoying some lemon drops in his office and reading the Daily Prophet when the deputy headmistress came in, her agitation barely masked. He motioned for her to take a seat, which she did so quite unwillingly.

"Evidently, Crookshanks went into the Forest, Miss Granger went after him, and Mr. Malfoy went after Miss Granger to bring her back."

McGonagall blinked. "Dumbledore, you know that there are several holes in that argument. For example, what reason would a very shrewd cat have to enter the Forest?"

"We cannot know what a cat thinks," chuckled Dumbledore, "just as we cannot know what Transfiguration professors think."

McGonagall cocked an eyebrow doubtfully. "It seems you know exactly what Transfiguration professors think."

Dumbledore only smiled. "Care for a lemon drop?"

"Even if Miss Granger's cat did go into the Forest, that's no reason to be chasing after it. The forest is off limits. Don't the students understand that?"

"Many don't. I seem to remember a young witch many years ago who liked to go exploring the Forest when I was just starting to teach at Hogwarts." Dumbledore looked pointedly at McGonagall, the smallest of smiles tugging at his lips.

McGonagall blushed, remembering her old school days.

"Well, that witch certainly knows better now."

"You know as well as I do that when ties to something are especially strong, one would risk anything to protect it. Harry Potter himself is an example of the 'something.' So, of course, is Miss Granger's cat."

"Mr. Malfoy does not like Mr. Potter, Mr. Weasley, or Miss Granger. He would have no reason to follow her unless he was planning to get her into trouble."

"We can't use dislike as a factor, Minerva. Miss Granger obviously dislikes Mr. Malfoy, but she saved him from the runespoor, nonetheless."

"But she's Hermione Granger! Their personalities are as different as night and day!"

"I think you will find that night and day are not so different at all, Minerva, if you observe closely."

McGonagall passed this off as another one of Dumbledore's 'gems' to think about later.

"And what about the runespoor? Why did it attack Malfoy?"

"They didn't say."

"Albus!"

"I do not think they knew, either. Don't fret over this. I have a theory," said Dumbledore, folding up his paper, "that all will be made clear soon. Patience is a virtue."

McGonagall repressed an irritated sigh. "You know as well as I do that Crookshanks was not the reason Miss Granger went into the forest."

Dumbledore said nothing, though the glimmer in his eyes said enough for McGonagall.

"Are you going to ask them tell the truth?"

"Do you think if I asked, they would? They may be children, Minerva, but they know the meaning of loyalty."

McGonagall regarded Dumbledore, concluding from his relaxed posture and his content tone of voice that he already knew why the two students had been out there that day.

"What are you going to do about the runespoor? You can't just leave it running rampant through the Forest."

"Hagrid and I took care of the problem. The runespoor will not terrorize whatever else is in the Forest, although there are many things that would not be fazed by it," replied Dumbledore, giving Professor McGonagall a pointed look, which, she knew by experience, meant it was time to depart.

"Well, goodday, Dumbledore."

"Goodday to you, too, Minerva."

----3----

She found him in the Room of Requirement.

It was dark and cold, the room frigid with frozen emotion that waited to be let loose. When she had last been here, it had been filled with what was necessary to practice Defense Against Dark Arts in Dumbledore's Army, the organization that was led by Harry in practicing spells that would help them. Now, it was cold and empty, the carpets having departed from the room, the warmth having seeped out, and it was comprised of only damp stone, a single flickering torch, and a lonely boy.

He sat on the cold stone floor, leaning against a wall perpendicular to the door and staring at the torch blankly. The edges of his eyes were red from tears and he was taking several deep, though uneven, breaths, as if to calm himself.

Hermione felt rather guilty; she shouldn't be pressuring him at such a vulnerable period. Harry was so kind and understanding—he would be crushed between remembering Cho and deciding what to do with the burden of the truth about Hermione's feelings. But another little voice in her head told her that if she missed her chance today, she would not get another chance to declare her love.

Hermione took a deep breath and entered.

"Harry?" she asked, her voice sounding rather strangled. Harry looked up at her and tried to smile. He failed desperately. Hermione ignored the pounding in her ears and the thumping of her chest as she knelt down next to him. "Harry, are you all right?"

He nodded his head, though two tears splattered on his lap.

"Oh, Harry." Hermione drew her arms around Harry's neck as he buried his face into her should and sobbed. His unruly locks tickled her cheek and her nose, and she found herself running her hand through them comfortingly. The feel of his warmth sent shivers up her spine.

"It'll be all right. Cho didn't deserve someone as wonderful as you are," she said, trying to comfort him. He said something that came out garbled and incoherent. "Sorry?"

Hermione loosened her hug as Harry pulled away; however, she did not let go. He repeated his words.

"No, I didn't deserve Cho. I didn't love her as I should have, and she knew it," Harry said, wallowing in his despair. "I'm such an idiot! I don't deserve anyone!"

"No! Don't say that," Hermione urged, wiping away one of his tears with her sleeve.

"But it's true. I didn't deserve Parvati, I didn't deserve Cho... I don't deserve you, I don't deserve Ginny, I don't deserve Ron. I shouldn't have any friends at all! I didn't deserve Sirius; he died because of me!" Harry broke into sobs anew, remembering the night his godfather died to save him.

"It isn't true, Harry. You are kind and considerate... faulted like all humans, but you aren't terrible. Besides, lots of people would give a limb to be in your company. You are the Boy Who Lived! You defied Voldemort four times! You have a brilliant light within you, one that draws people to you... it's because of this light that people like you, that people trust you. Don't cry.... after all, Cho was the one who had another boyfriend all along."

"Don't make assumptions, Hermione," said Harry, suddenly defensive. "She met the guy only a few days ago. She didn't even go out with him yet."

"How do you know? After all, she might just be lying." Hermione lovingly lifted Harry's glasses away and gazed into his moist emerald eyes. "She doesn't see your unique glow..."

He broke the gaze with an air almost like guilt. "No, she saw it. She saw so much, Hermione."

"No matter how much she saw, there are people who would respect and care for you more." Hermione's heart started to race in anticipation. "People like Ginny, like Maya, the fourth year, like Candace from Ravenclaw, like Eloise Midgen." Harry grinned through his tears at the thought of being Eloise's boyfriend.

"Like... like me."

It took a while before what Hermione said finally sank in for Harry. He slowly turned his head to look at her, stunned and disbelieving, no longer weeping.

"You?"

Hermione nodded gently.

"You?..."

A long, awkward pause followed, in which Harry stared at her, slow realization dawning on his face. The silence was overwhelming and the air was thick with eagerness. But the longer she waited, the more her hope faded and the room seemed to darken with shadow.

"Hermione..." began Harry softly, too softly. "...you are like my sister. You are my best friend, someone I can always lean on... but I don't feel towards you in that way. Please understand... love cannot be forced... I... I... I don't like you."

Hermione's smile completely faded. She swallowed as she got up and her eyes clouded over with moisture. "Of course. I'm just Hermione... bushy-haired Hermione that you copy notes off of... nerdy Hermione who loves houseelves... Hermione the know-it-all, Hermione the perfect, Hermione who cannot be loved romantically."

"I didn't say that!" Harry said, scrambling to his feet. "You are special to me, just not in that way!"

"Sure I am...." Hermione backed out of the room, her eyes never leaving Harry. "I'm so special." She turned and ran out, as tears trickled down her cheeks, falling uncaught onto the empty stone halls.

"Hermione!"

She ignored Harry's call, choosing instead to pretend that she couldn't hear him. Along the halls and down the stairs she ran, paying no heed to the blatantly interested stares from the second-years who moved out of her way. Professor Snape exited his classroom just as Hermione sped past.

"NO RUNNING! THAT'S TEN POINTS FROM GRYFFINDOR!" he called after her. She barely heard him.

Finally, she reached her destination, where she always went to escape her troubles.

Madam Pince, the librarian, looked up sharply as Hermione entered. She frowned in disapproval at Hermione's crumpled robes and tearstained face. Hermione didn't spare her a second glance.

Hermione headed straight for the back of the library, where few ever ventured, and made her way to an old, dusty table hidden amid thick, musty books that had not been checked out in years. She plopped down in a creaky chair next to the table, pulled out of her bookbag a thick history textbook, opened it up to its marker, and began to read.

---4---

Ginny looked around the Gryffindor table. "Where's Hermione?" she asked finally. Dean Thomas, who sat across from her, shrugged.

"Isn't she supposed to get out of the hospital wing today?"

"She did. I moved all of her stuff out," replied Thomas. "And then Ron had to come and crash into one of the giant squealing bears, making it cry."

"I could hear the bear crying and I was in a classroom seven doors away," added Luna, who had wandered over from the Ravenclaw table. 

"It was'n my faul'!" insisted Ron through a mouth full of casserole. "I wann'd ta see 'ermione! How would I know if dere's a gian' bear makin' its way down the halls?"

"But where's Hermione?"

"Library," replied Luna vaguely, smiling at Ron before walking off.

"Library? Again? She shouldn't be working now! We're going to have a party for her in the common room tonight!" Ginny looked at Ron. "You will come with me to get her, right?"

"After dinner!" Ron said, swallowing the casserole.

"And you, Harry?" Ginny peered at Harry, who was unusually quiet. "I know you're hurting over Cho," Ginny said tenderly. "But that doesn't mean you shouldn't support your friend."

Harry suddenly glared at her fiercely. "Don't you dare say that. I do support her. I do care for her!"

Ginny was taken back. "All right. Then come!"

Harry cast his eyes back onto his plate. "I think she should be left alone for a while, Ginny," he said in the barest of whispers so that only she and Ron could hear. "Don't ask why."

Ginny considered this. She fixed Harry with an odd look. "Fine."

Harry looked strangely relieved.

----x----

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