Disclaimer: Harry Potter's not mine. It's all J.K. Rowling's. The only thing I own is the fic. Nothing else.
Author's Note: This goes out to one of my best OL friends, Courtney, who requested for this way back in April. I'm sorry that I'm uploading this so late..hope you like it?
So here's to make up for the lack of updating lately..two Harry x Hermione fics. I hope you all enjoy.
"He" is Harry, "she" is Hermione.
She decided that it was his entire fault; that because of him, this had happened.
This being something she couldn't name, which irritated her to no end, as she liked things to have a pinpoint definition.
Whenever she tried, words just stuck to the roof of her mouth, becoming as slippery as ice in the winter. So she decided to express what she felt, by using her eyes and hands. That tactic had brought her to the present, where she was pondering if she should be feeling this way – or not.
And how was it his fault? What had the sweet, stubborn, somewhat dense – she could go on forever describing his qualities – boy had done to deserve such blame? Truly he was innocent; as far as anyone could see, he had done nothing wrong.
But to her, he had committed one of humanity's worst crimes – and that was to cross an undrawn line. This time, he had crossed the invisible edge between platonic and something more.
Now she was lost, wondering what to do, what to feel. And that was why she blamed him – she had fallen and couldn't come back up.
Or so she thought.
Maybe this wouldn't have happened had she been a boy. That way she wouldn't have had to worry about falling in love with her best friend, and everything wouldn't be so, so –
– so bloody complicated.
But then again - maybe, either way, they both would've crossed the unseen line, and this, the two of them together, would exist.
For the first time in her life, she didn't know what to do at that moment.
Yes, this was definitely his fault, she thought. If it weren't for him causing me to feel this for him in the first place – I wouldn't be a mess.
Then, when she really pondered it . . it wasn't his fault. It never had been. This, whatever they had – friendship, trust, loyalty, bravery, respect, love – had been building up for the past six years. Until it had all burst and shattered – and then, much like a phoenix, was born again from the fragments.
To her, this was the vicious cycle their relationship had taken them on. The first step was realization, the second was acceptance, the third was recognition of them as a couple – and the last and final step, reconstruction. The two of them had to pick up the pieces of what was left of a broken friendship, and try to move on. Just them now.
And then . .
When it all came down to it – if she blamed him, she might as well have blamed herself. It was entirely both their faults. If they hadn't realized what they felt, she was sure they would've, some time, someday.
She supposed instead of blaming him, she should be thankful that she had realized truly what she felt for him, instead of living in not so blissful ignorance.
After all, he had gotten her to acknowledge what had always been there that she had ignored and refused to see – now it was the time for her to act on what she felt.
And so it was that she found herself where she'd been, from the very beginning – right by his side.