Summary: 'They'd never know, now, how much they loved each other…all because their best friend was a coward.'

Frozen Tears

By: JeanieBeanie33

Harry's hands touched the two graves that were side by side, buried in the Hogwarts cemetery. Both of the death dates were the same, written there supposedly to mark the end of the two people's lives, but instead, it just reminded Harry of his mistake.

The two gravestones had been buried last June, and now it was a week before Christmas. Snow was falling, like cold, frozen tears. Like the tears he'd shed the day after he made his biggest mistake ever.

Ron and Hermione were dead because of him; dead, because he'd fallen for Voldemort's trick to get him out of Hogwarts; dead, because he'd actually touched that stupid stone without checking it for spells; dead, because he was a fool.

That wasn't all that tore at Harry's conscience. It was what happened before that fateful day when he lost the two people that meant the very most to him, that were more precious to him than even Sirius had been.

He could still remember the day that both had come to him, at different times. It'd been after they'd had a huge fight – Harry couldn't even remember what it'd been about. Hermione had come first, being softer than Ron and more open about her feelings. If he closed his eyes, he could see her face – tearstained, tear streaked, eyes puffy, face red.

"I hate it when me and Ron fight, Harry," she'd choked, sobbing into his shoulder.

"Of course you do," said Harry, awkwardly rubbing her back. He'd gotten slightly better at comforting crying girls, as it had happened enough times in his life, but he was still no expert. "We're best friends – friends are supposed to hate it when they fight, or they're not really friends."

"It's not just that," Hermione whispered, lifting her head off his shoulder and looking him in the eye. "Harry, I – I love him. Not just as a brother, like with you and Neville, but more than a brother. I love him like my mother loves my father. I love him like I've never loved anyone else. But Harry – what if he doesn't love me like that back? What if he laughs at me, or hates me? I don't know the answer, Harry, I don't know the answer!"

"Don't know the answer? That's a first!" Harry exclaimed, trying to lighten the mood. Hermione just cried harder. "Shh! It's all right; everything's going to be okay."

"But Harry, I don't know the answer!" Hermione bawled. "You don't understand. I need to know the answer! I have to know all the answers, or else I'll – I'll go mad!"

"No one knows all the answers, Hermione," said Harry, trying to think of the right thing to say. "Not even someone as smart and clever as you. Ron won't laugh at you or hate you, even if he doesn't love you like that too. I know him better than that, and so do you! Come on, Hermione, this is Ron we're talking about!"

"You really think so?" said Hermione hopefully, dark brown eyes meeting bright green.

"I'm certain,' said Harry. "Ron wouldn't hurt you. In fact, you should be crying about thinking you can't trust your friend to not hurt you rather than if he doesn't love you like you love him! Jeez, 'Mione, I thought you knew better than that!"

"You know, I don't know what I'd do without you, Harry," said Hermione, laughing and hugging Harry. "I really don't know!"

Harry sighed, shaking the memory away. Ron had come after that, just a couple hours later, in the boys' dorm instead of by the lake like it'd been with Hermione.

"She's just so frustrating at times!" Ron burst out. "Really, it's like she can't admit she's wrong!"

'Wouldn't you like to know,' Harry thought. "I'm sure she can, Ron, she just doesn't like to. I guess she still remembers what it feels like to not have friends. Didn't she tell us herself she had no friends before Hogwarts? I certainly remember what it feels like to not have them. Maybe she thinks that she can't be wrong or else we'll abandon her."

"Rubbish,' said Ron. "What's even more frustrating is I can't fully hate her!"

"Why is that?" asked Harry, heart pounding. Did Ron…?

"Because I love her!" Ron practically shouted, gesturing wildly. He blushed, seeming to realize what he'd just said. All the anger and frustration left him, leaving an awkward, embarrassed teenager. "I mean, I – well, yeah, I guess I do love her. And I don't mean like just a sister, either! I mean like – like, well, you know…that. I guess what I'm trying to say is that I like her, a lot, like you like Luna."

"Why don't you tell her?" asked Harry, trying to stay calm. An old fear had come back, a fear he hadn't felt in a long time: the fear of being alone. Would they abandon him? Would they leave him alone, thinking Luna was enough? Sure, he loved Luna with all his heart, but Ron and Hermione had been his first true friends, and at least one of them had been with him on his adventures. He didn't know what he'd do without them.

"Because she probably doesn't love me," said Ron. "I mean, come on, we fight like Crookshanks and Scabbers did before we found out Scabbers wasn't Scabbers! Besides, why would she like me? I'm not very smart in class; I'm not good at anything except Quidditch, which she doesn't like very much, and Wizard Chess, which she doesn't play very much. And anyway, we're complete opposites. We're just – too different, and she thinks of me as a friend."

"Just tell her, Ron," said Harry, swallowing the lump in his throat. He was being selfish – Ron and Hermione deserved to be together and to be happy, especially after helping him and being loyal to him throughout the years, even though that made them targets of Voldemort.

"I can't!" said Ron. "She'll probably think I'm nutters if I tell her I like her like that, anyway."

"Just tell her, Ron, just tell her," Harry repeated. 'Because I won't,' he added mentally. He knew he was being a coward, but the thought of Ron and Hermione forgetting about him, or of getting together and then breaking up and therefore making him choose a side, was just too difficult to bear.

'I'll just let them do it,' he thought. 'That way, if they do get together and forget about me, then it won't be my fault. And if they do get together and find out I kept it from them that I knew they liked each other the same way, then that'll be my punishment. Yes, that'll work. Besides, it's not like they'll die tomorrow or something…'

He really ought to have known not to temp fate.

The next day turned out to be the final battle, and both Ron and Hermione died, Ron sacrificing himself for Hermione, Hermione sacrificing herself for Harry, and Harry sacrificing his friends and his innocence for the entire world, a world that hated him half the time. In the end, after Voldemort was dead and gone, and most of his Death Eaters having either fled or been captured, Harry knelt over his best friends' bodies.

"I am so sorry," he sobbed, holding them in his arms. "I'm so sorry I couldn't save you! I'm sorry that I didn't tell you that you both returned each other's feelings!"

"Harry,' said Neville, touching Harry on the shoulder. "Harry, it's not your fault. They both willingly gave their lives for you – there was nothing you could do to stop them, no way of knowing they'd do this. Harry, you – didn't – know!

"Yes, I did," Harry said, so quietly that Neville had to strain to hear. "I did know. But I still didn't tell."

Tears slid down Harry's pale cheeks. They'd never know, now, how much they loved each other…all because their best friend was a coward.

"I'll never forget," he vowed, bowing his head. "I'll never forget the mistake I made of letting a silly, unlikely little fear getting in the way of telling you that your feelings toward each other were the same. I'm always going to regret not telling you guys, and I know that. I'll never tell a living soul you loved each other – you didn't tell the world, so I won't tell the world. I'll always respect that. I promise."

An odd chill under his chin made him look up – straight into the eyes of Ron and Hermione, looking as solid as they did when they were alive; they even had snowflakes in their hair. They both beamed at him, and held up their linked, joined hands, smiling widely. They didn't say a word, but Harry knew what they meant: they knew about how the other felt.

We don't blame you, they mouthed. Hermione leant over and kissed his cheek, and Harry swore, as she pulled away, that he heard her whisper into his ear, "We understand."

Ron and Hermione waved with their free hands, and Harry lifted his own hand in farewell. Snowflakes started to swirl around the finally united couple, and Ron and Hermione seemed to gradually disappear, until there was nothing left, no evidence that they'd been there at all, save Harry's still-raised hand.

Harry stood frozen like that for a second, before lowering his hand and touching his cheek where Hermione had kissed him. For the first time in months, a true smile slowly slid across his face.

Harry walked away from the two graves, until he reached the entrance. He turned his head back, looking at the two gravestones that marked where his first true friends now laid.

"I'm happy for you," he said to the silent cemetery, but he thought that, as he closed the gate, he heard Ron's voice saying, "Thanks, mate."

That night he slept peacefully for the first time since Ron and Hermione's deaths.

-Fin-