i don't wanna lose you
It was a normal evening at the castle.
Or, better said, it would be a normal evening if it weren't for Hermione ignoring him.
Harry sighed heavily and watched as his best friend read her textbook, occasionally stopping to make notes on her parchment before investing herself on the information again.
She didn't speak to him today, at all; every time Harry had started conversation or asked her a question, she'd simply turned her head around and ignore his existence no matter how insistent he was being.
His nerves were lighting up and his mind was reeling, trying to think about whatever he had done to make her mad at him, but nothing came to mind. Well, nothing so serious that Hermione would just stop talking to him.
Gathering courage, Harry stood from his place on the sofa and walked over quickly to the loveseat in which she was sitting on; he gave her no time to process the fact that he was there before he started talking.
"Are we okay?" Harry blurted out.
For the first time today, Hermione didn't turn her head or walked away; she merely sighed and close her book before her eyes found his. She was frowning.
"I believe so," She answered.
Harry lifted an eyebrow; she sounded cold and distant, so unlike her. "Are we, though? I'm pretty sure you're mad at me, Hermione, and I have no idea what I've done."
He struck a nerve. Hermione's eyes ignited in indignant fire and she took a steading breath before a humorless laugh left her mouth.
"No idea?" The thought of it was apparently funny because she chuckled softly before sobering up and addressing him seriously. "I've realized that…this…is not working, Harry. I think it's in both of our best interests if we just go our separate ways."
Harry stood there, shocked, before laughing uncomfortably. "You're kidding, aren't you? Is this about the ruined book of last week? I said I was sorry! I know I was kind of a prat and everything—"
"It's not about that," Hermione interrupted. "It's about the fact that I can't be friends with somebody that clearly doesn't care about me."
"Wh—what?" Harry asked, baffled. "Of course I care about you, Hermione!"
"Do you?" Hermione challenged. "Then how come I was alone for three months, on Christmas, if we're supposed to be friends?"
Harry's mouth, ready to speak, promptly shut down as the teenage boy's shoulders dropped in shame. He scratched the back of his neck, running through all of the times he had prepared an apology speech to his best friend about how much of an idiot he had been those weeks.
Hermione scoffed. "I loved being friends with you, Harry. I would've traveled to the ends of the world with you had you asked, to help you with anything…but friendship is a two way street, and I cannot give everything of myself to someone who only deems me as important because of my knowledge and my willingness to drop everything for them."
That was so wrong; Harry took another step forward, words on the edge of his mouth to try and convince her that she had it all wrong, that he cared so much for her but always had a hard time showing it; but Hermione simply released a breath and gathered her things quickly, glaring at him one last time.
"Don't speak to me again." With that, Hermione Granger walked out of his life forever.
Harry gasped, sitting up on the bed and moving his blurry gaze side to say before understanding that he had had that particular nightmare again. He sighed and rubbed his face, wiping the cold sweat and massaging the tension on his eyebrows from frowning on his sleep.
One quick look at the clock and Harry realized that he had, thankfully, woken up just a mere two minutes before his alarm was supposed to go off; with that in mind, and with his heart still beating rapidly, the teenager quickly got up from his bed to start his morning routine, all the while thinking hard on what had happened on his nightmare.
0o0o0o0o0o0o
Here's the thing:
Harry is kind of an idiot, he admits that much, but he's not dumb; he knows that he hasn't been the best best friend lately. The Firebolt Incident certainly drove a wedge between him and Hermione big enough that even now, two weeks after resolving the issue, they still had trouble speaking to each other without an air of awkwardness around them.
So yes, he knows he hasn't been a good friend lately, and that ignoring Hermione instead of talking things out and try to understand her point of view—even if he wasn't in agreement of the way she handled things—wasn't the best way to react to his Firebolt being taken.
He knows…and yet, he's ashamed to admit, even to himself, that ignoring the awkwardness around Hermione is easier than confronting the issue head front, and that has only lead to the fact that he can't be alone with Hermione for more than a minute because then the guilt will come knocking on his mind, and he'd make a quick excuse to leave.
Hermione had looked at him in a way he didn't want to; the light on her eyes had dimmed slightly every time he'd leave her by herself, or she'd stop talking to him in the middle of a conversation because he wasn't paying attention. She, also, stopped trying to pair with him on project since he always sought out Ron before her, because there never was emotional talks or confessions of feelings with Ron; the redhead had always shrugged every time Harry even tried to broach the subject, and that—as bad as it sounded—validated Harry's need of ignoring the problem.
But he was now afraid, because his nightmare had been hounding him for days; what if it became true?
Merlin, he didn't want to lose Hermione just because he was idiot enough to not know how to proceed with the feelings he had about the whole situation…and about Hermione, too for that matter.
Because he was pretty sure he was crushing on his best friend; had been for at least since the beginning of the year, perhaps a little longer.
As Harry watched Hermione laugh and nod at something a Ravenclaw bloke told her, he mentally swallowed his pride and started to form a plan on his head labeled How To Be Better Friend (And Maybe More).
He'd be damned if he lost her because of his idiocy.
0o0o0o0o0o0o0o
The first step on his plan was simple: start repairing the cracks on their relationship.
"Let me help," Harry said, hands closing around the pile of books Hermione was trying to grab, and would have probably succeeded, if she hadn't already had another pile of book in her hand.
"Oh," Hermione said. "Thank you, Harry! That's so nice of you!"
Harry smiled while internally wincing; she sounded so surprised and delighted that he was helping her carry a pile of books, and that somehow made him feel worse than before.
They arrived at the Common Room without further incident, and Hermione thanked him again before shuffling her books on the table to start her homework. Harry lingered before her, trying to find a space on the table to set up his things when his best friend addressed him.
"Harry, are you okay?" Hermione asked.
"Er, yes," He replied. "I was just trying to find space for my books. On the table, I mean."
Hermione frowned confused before her eyes widened slightly. "Oh. Oh! Are you staying here, with me?"
"Yes," Harry replied. "Unless you…don't want me here?"
"No, no!" Hermione denied vehemently. "I just thought you'd go to Ron since we have a free period."
Harry shrugged. "I really just want to finish my essay though."
Hermione smiled, but he noted that it didn't quite reached her eyes like last time. "Right. Of course. Let me give it a look then."
It took Harry five seconds to work out the why of Hermione's sad smile; she probably thinks I'm just here so that she revise my work!
"Actually," Harry said. "It's finished, but it's broken up in several pieces of parchments. I just have to write it in one so that I can turn it in."
Hermione raised her eyebrows in surprise. "Oh. I could still take a look if you want."
"No, no," Harry shook his head, staring at the bags under her eyes. "It's fine, really! You have to do your own homework, Hermione. I'm more than capable of doing mine. I'd just like to keep you company, if that's okay with you?"
"Yes, of course it is." Hermione's smile turned radiant as she turned back to her several books, and Harry sighed contently before diving on his own work.
0o0o00o0o0o0
"I missed you today, mate, where were you?"
Harry turned his head from the journal he was writing on to his redhead best friend; at this hour, minutes before dinner would start, the dorm room was empty except for him and Ron; his best friend was standing at the door, looking at him curiously as the black haired teen sat up straighter on his bed.
"Oh, I was studying with Hermione," Harry answered, erasing a sentence from the journal with his wand before leaving that and the quill on his nightstand. "We lost track of time until everyone was making their way to the Great Hall."
"All afternoon?" Ron blurted out, baffled. "And you're alive?"
"It wasn't that bad, Ron," Harry said, defensive. "It was a very enjoyable evening, if you have to know."
"Oh?" Ron asked, smirking. "'Very enjoyable'? If I didn't know any better I'd say you like like her."
"What are you, twelve?" Harry huffed, pink tinting his cheeks.
"Thirteen, actually, and that doesn't answer my question," Ron answered, shrugging nonchalantly.
"I was just trying to be a better friend," Harry stated, frowning. "She could use that more often, you know?"
"What?" Asked Ron, coming over and sitting on the free side of his friend's bed.
"Better friends," Harry said and sighed, noticing the confused glint on Ron's eyes. "We haven't been very good friends with her Ron, with the Firebolt drama and the whole Scabbers-Crookshanks incident."
"She didn't lock her cat in a cage, though," Ron argued weakly.
Harry rolled his eyes. "You didn't lock Scabbers on his either, mate. Hagrid had to scold us for being such gits because we couldn't get out heads out of our arses."
Ron mumbled incoherently while dropping his gaze to the ground; Harry sighed again, heavier than last time, and rubbed his eyes.
"I'm just trying to be better," Harry whispered. "I don't want to lose her."
Ron's eyebrows lifted in surprise. "Woah, how did you went from that to that? What makes you think you're going to lose her?"
"Isn't it obvious?" Harry grumbling. "She's done so much for us—for me, and I went and acted like a right arse to her for weeks. She could do so much better than me for a friend and yet she stayed, but what if one day she decides to just…drop us and move on?"
"Why do I feel there's something behind that whole theory?" Ron asked, staring at him.
Harry cringed and groaned. "You remember all the times I've been waking up to in the middle of the night to a bad dream?"
"Yeah."
"Hermione leaving is the bad dream," Harry stated. "And from all the times that I've dreamt about it I'm starting to think I can see the future."
Ron shook his head. "It's just a dream, mate! Nothing like that is going to happen, alright? It's probably just your guilt talking or something."
"Well," Harry said. "Why don't you have the same nightmare, then?"
"Because I don't fancy her, duh."
"I don't—"
The door opened suddenly and Harry words died on his mouth; there, standing in the entrance to the dorm room, was Hermione herself. It didn't take her more than a second to see them between all the empty beds in the room, so she smiled and walked over to them.
"Hey," She greeted. "Are you guys okay? I was worried when I didn't see you in the Great Hall, Harry, and then I was extremely worried when Ron wasn't there at all."
"Oi," Ron said. "What're you trying to say, huh?"
"Oh, you know what I'm trying to say."
All three of them chuckled and quieted down soon afterwards; Hermione was still staring at Harry, a questioning glint on her eyes as she watched her best friend blush and advert his eyes.
What happened next made Harry want to strangle Ron for the foreseeable future.
"Harry's afraid you're going to drop him as a friend because of the whole fight about the Firebolt and something about being a bad friend?" Ron said, rubbing his chin and ignoring the horrified glare that his best friend sent him. "Something like that. You both should talk it out. Right now. I'll say my apologies later."
Harry had no time to argue with him before the redhead got up from the bed and made a run for the door, bypassing Hermione and quickly closing the door behind him, leaving a flustered boy and a confused girl inside the dorm room.
"Harry?" Hermione asked.
The black haired boy groaned softly and stared at the closed door, mentally punching Ron for being so bloody blunt and impertinent; his eyes fond Hermione and, seeing the confusion and worry shining on them, he decided to just bite the bullet and tell her everything he had been thinking about for the past few weeks.
"I'm sorry," Harry blurted out. "I'm sorry, about the Firebolt thing. You know, ignoring your for weeks because I was mad without even listening to you side of the story. Granted, I still think you were in the wrong, but that didn't mean I had to be such a git to you. It's not like you wanted to hurt me or something."
Hermione opened her mouth to speak but Harry interjected, rambling nervously. "And I'm sorry for not being a good enough friend. I care so much for you, I hope you know that, and I've been trying to make amends for being so awkward about the whole fight, but I don't know if I've done enough. I don't want to lose you, Hermione—"
"Harry, stop!" Hermione exclaimed, effectively shutting him up as she shook her head confusedly. "Why do you think you're going to lose me? I'm fine!"
"Physically, yeah," Harry nodded. "But…you deserve better friends than me or Ron, and as selfish as this sounds…I was hoping to be better before you realized that, and that way I wouldn't have to lose you."
Harry couldn't look her in the eyes after baring his thoughts like that, so he just stayed sitting on his bed, staring at his lap in shameful silence and waiting for his best friend to speak.
A weight sat itself to his right; Hermione had climbed the bed to sit next to him, and she fearlessly took one of his hands and squeezed before addressing him.
"I'm not going anywhere, Harry, I promise."
"I don't deserve that. I haven't been a good friend."
Hermione hummed. "I do have to admit that the whole ignoring thing you pulled over Christmas was..."
Harry groaned, and the girl chuckled before continuing. "Everybody makes mistakes, Harry. But if we never talk about them, we can't work through our issues. I've already forgiven you for ignoring me, and you've already forgiven me for going behind your back, right?"
"Yeah, of course."
"Then there's no problem…unless you want to bring something up?"
Several thoughts came to the forefront of Harry's mind; memories of Hermione's laugh and smiles that threatened to overwhelm his senses, along with the lingering fear of losing her and a longing to take her on a date, but he just smiled and shook his head, swinging an arm over her shoulders and embracing her in a fierce hug.
0o0o0o0o0o0o00o0
Things had never been better for them after that talk; Harry had stopped himself from lashing out at Ron for being so nosy just because his relationship with Hermione was as strong as ever.
They studied together for a bit in the afternoon, before he'd run off to Quidditch practice or to goof off with Ron, but they'd always met each other after curfew in the Common Room to go over their day and make future plans.
The next Hogsmeade weekend was coming up, but every time Harry would gather his courage to ask her to accompany him on a date date, one look from her would make his bravery vanish and he'd be left with a lame excuse to leave and lick his wounds.
Today, however, was the day before the weekend and, as he and Hermione met each other long after everyone had gone to sleep, Harry resolved to just blurt out his question before something else could distract him.
"WouldyouliketogotoHogsmeadewithme?"
"I'd love to," Hermione answered, smile shining as she settled down next to him to read.
"Really?" Harry asked. "I mean—fantastic! Yeah, it's…"
"How the hell did you even understand him?"
Ron's voice startled them sharply, and both Harry and Hermione eyed their mutual best friend suspiciously as he walked over and sat down between them.
"He said it all in one breath," Ron continued. "There's no way you understood him that easily."
Hermione huffed. "What are you even doing here? You're supposed to be in bed, it's late."
"I can't believe you said that to me with a straight face when you're down here snogging Harry without a care in the world."
"Ron!" Harry hissed, cheeks red.
"Fine!" The redhead exclaimed, crossing his arms and frowning. "I'm down here 'cause I thought I'd apologize to Hermione if I could pry her from your arms for two seconds."
That seemed to do the trick; Hermione's eyebrows lifted to her hairline and accompanied the shocked expression she had on her face, while Harry looked at his best friend with a mix of pride and exasperation.
"So…" Ron started. "I wanted to say I'm sorry about—well, about everything, alright? I still think your cat is a menace—"
"Ron—"
The redhead threw a glare at his best friend. "—but I reckon Hagrid was right. So, that's that on that. I'm sorry."
Harry rubbed his forehead softly, wishing that his best mate's apology was, well, better, but he knew Ron didn't do well with emotional talks. This was the best they would get for some time, and Hermione seemed to think so too.
"Thank you, Ron," Hermione said, smiling softly. "For what it's worth, I am talking to Crookshanks about Scabbers and that he's off limits. I think I'm getting through to him."
"Great!" Ron exclaimed, getting up from his seat and walking away from them in a hurry. "Then that's all for me here. I'm glad you guys are going out, be careful, practice safe, don't do anything Fred and George would do! Good night!"
Ron's impromptu visit had kind of spoiled the intimate feeling of their meet up, so both remaining teenagers decided to just go up their respective dorms and sleep earlier than usual, excited about their date.
0o0o0o0o0o
"My hair looks terrible."
"It looks the same as always, mate."
"Exactly."
"Hermione likes it."
"Really?"
"Yes, now shut up and let's go, I don't want to miss the carriages."
Harry and Ron made their way quickly through the horde of students dodging older students until they managed to secure an empty carriage.
"So, what'd you have planned to today?" Ron asked, wiggling his eyebrows.
Harry shrugged, trying to appear nonchalant but failing due to his moving knee. "Just walk around, do some shopping, normal things."
"It's a date, though. There are places for dates at Hogsmeade, you know?"
"I've asked Katie about them and they sound awful. I don't think Hermione would be into them."
"Suit yourself."
By the time they arrived at Hogsmeade and left the carriage, Harry's nerves were starting to get them best of him, manifesting through his sweaty palms and the way he'd look in all directions for no more than half a second.
"Calm down, mate, I'm starting to worry just leaving you here by yourself." Ron said, frowning.
"I'll be fine," Harry stated. "I'm just…"
"Yeah, yeah," Ron answered. "Come find me at the Three Broomsticks if your dates turns into a complete failure."
Harry's glare followed his best friend until the redhead disappeared into the crowd, leaving the black haired teenager alone, standing in front of where the carriages dropped the students off.
Suddenly, a force collided against him with arms wounding themselves on his torso, and Harry had a brief moment of panic before he recognized the voice speaking to him from behind.
"Harry! Hi!" Hermione exclaimed, releasing him.
"Hey," Harry breathed, smiling. "You okay?"
"Never better," She answered.
"Great," Harry cleared his throat. "I guess we should, uh, get going, then?"
"Of course," Hermione smiled and took his hand, intertwining their fingers together and leading him into Hosgmeade; Harry grinned to himself, staring at their hands before his attention was grabbed by his companion's voice as she spoke of her morning adventure with Crookshanks.
Harry's nerves left him little by little as the day was progressing; Hermione had the incredible ability of making him nervous and somehow calm at the same time, and he couldn't get enough of her warm eyes and shining smile.
"Are you okay?"
Harry shook his head, clearing his thoughts and realizing that they were in front of the Three Broomsticks. He sighed and released a heavy sigh.
Hermione's questioning eyes made him answer sheepishly. "Ron'll have a field day when he sees us enter. He'll probably say something inane like 'I thought you guys would've been snogging right now' or something similar."
"Hmmm," Hermione stared at their mutual best friend through the windows of the establishment, secretly glad that he was too into his lunch to feel her eyes on him. "Well, I'd love to see his face when you tell him you were snogging me."
"It won't work, he knows when I'm lying, the git."
"I never said I'd make a liar out of you, Harry."
It took him exactly seven seconds to understand the meaning behind her words, and as his cheeks flared and head turned towards her, he spied Hermione making her way to the alley adjacent to the entrance of the pub and disappearing behind it. Swallowing nervously, he followed at a quick pace.
When their lips met for the first time, Harry forgot all about his best friend sitting on the pub. Hermione's hand on his hair and her labored breathing were all he cared for the next several moments.
0o0o0o0o
"Well, well, what do we have here?" Ron asked, wiggling his eyebrows. "You can't sit with me until you've snogged each other. I'll know if you lie."
Hermione shrugged nonchalant. "Then we'll order now. We've been snogging for the last fifteen minutes or so."
Ron snorted. "Yeah, sure."
The redhead turned to his best friend, intent on teasing the bushy haired girl together about her lie, but one look at Harry and Ron figured that they were telling the truth; he had a content look to him, and his lips were swollen with his breathing labored.
"You—" Ron sputtered. "You two actually snogged? Bloody hell!"
"Don't sound so surprised, Ron," Hermione stated, and the redhead could now see what he had missed before: her cheeks were tainted in the brightest pink he'd ever seen, with her lips also swollen.
"Bloody hell."
"I fancy a butterbeer, you want one too?" Harry asked Hermione, receiving a nod in return and walking to the bar to order.
"Bloody hell."
Hermione huffed, smirking. "Close your mouth, Ron."
"I just didn't think he had it in him, or you for that matter," He answered.
"What's that supposed to mean?"