It remains untold
Harry sat in the common room. He was dry now and waiting for Hermione. He found it odd that she took so long to get dried off. He got up and began to pace. He still wasn't sure if she'd heard what he'd said.
"She couldn't have heard me," he muttered to himself. "Or could she? If she did… She must not feel the same, or she just really didn't hear me."
Hermione stood at the Girls' Dorm stairs. She wondered what he was doing. She couldn't hear what he was saying. He looked so troubled. She sat down on the sofa, watching him.
"Or maybe she—" Harry stopped. He felt like he was being watched. He turned to find her sitting on the sofa, watching him intently. "How long have you been there," he asked feeling very afraid.
"Not long," she replied. She patted the seat next to her. "Come sit."
Harry took a seat beside her. He was shocked when she rested her head on his shoulder. He sat still, unsure what to do. Should he put an arm around her, or not do anything? He decided not to do anything. They sat watching the fire.
Hermione felt like she was soaring. This was the best day of her life, even though tragedy always seemed to strike. She closed her eyes, savoring the moment.
Harry stared into the fire, still contemplating whether to tell her or not. He knew if he didn't, he would drive himself crazy wondering about it. He had to tell her. He took a deep breath and turned to her, only to find she'd fallen asleep. He sighed. Maybe tomorrow, he thought and let her sleep.