Three Small Words

happy_daze

Rating: G
Genres: Romance
Relationships: Harry & Hermione
Book: Harry & Hermione, Books 1 - 5
Published: 28/12/2003
Last Updated: 28/12/2003
Status: completed

When those three small words are said... Harry and Hermione don't know what to think.

Chapters

1. Three Small Words

1. Three Small Words

Harry jumped slightly when he heard her enter the room. A part of his mind knew that she was going to come up and talk to him, though. She always did that. She was always worried about him, just always there. Some probably would have found it to be annoying, bothersome even. But not him. To him, it was almost like a comfort. It was nice to know that he could depend on her to be there, willing to listen to him pour out his soul.

“Hermione,” he said, somewhat stiffly, as he continued jamming his clothes into his trunk. Their summer at the Burrow was ending, and soon, they would be going back to Hogwarts for their sixth year. It was an odd feeling for Harry. He had always considered Hogwarts to be his home, and he supposed that on some level, it always would be. But this year, he wasn’t looking forward to going there. Too much lied there. Memories of Sirius, questions of Voldemort, perhaps even answers that he’d rather not know… either way, Hogwarts meant that he was going to deal with things that he didn’t want to deal with.

“Hey, Harry,” Hermione said, quietly shutting the door. Harry was glad she did. He never really admitted it to himself or to anyone, but he enjoyed his time alone with Hermione. Those moments could have been spent in total silence, but it still felt good. Being with Hermione was never time wasted. “How are you doing?” she asked, tentatively stepping up beside him.

Harry scoffed inwardly. He hadn’t even said a word and she already knew that something was eating away at his mind. Leave it to her to cut right to the chase and brush aside unnecessary small talk.

“Fine,” he answered shortly. He grabbed a shirt that was lying on the cot he slept on in Ron’s room and threw it in a crumpled heap into his trunk. She stared at it momentarily, then took it back out and folded it neatly. Next thing he knew, she was taking out all his crumpled clothes and folding them neatly. He soon found himself doing the same to his clothes.

“Did you want to talk about it?” she questioned, turning some of his clean socks the right side out, instead of inside out.

“I don’t know,” he told her truthfully. “There are just some things that I don’t want to face when we get back. I know it would be dangerous to stay here, at the Burrow, too long, but I really don’t want to leave.”

“Even for Cho?” she asked, a slight smile on her face.

At those words, Harry stopped folding his clothes and turned to stare at her. Surprised at the look of incredulity on his face, Hermione’s eyes widened. “I-I’m sorry… I didn’t mean it, if it came out offensive, but I just thought that—“

“Not even for Cho,” Harry said flatly. “I don’t like her anymore. Things didn’t work out.” He shrugged. “There are other guys out there that can make her happy, and not make her cry.”

A hand came out of nowhere and laid itself upon his own, right when he was in the middle of folding his last shirt. He looked into Hermione’s face and saw the pity in there. He hated pity. But somehow, with her, it wasn’t so bad.

“It’s her own fault, you know… it’s not you. I think you’d make a brilliant boyfriend.” She smiled. He smiled back. How could he not? It was a wonderful moment between the two of them. One of many. Then he felt his heart flutter… that was a first.

He quickly broke the eye contact with her and folded the last shirt. Stuffing it into the neat pile that she had started in his trunk, he dusted off his hands and shut the lid. “Done,” he declared. “I’m packed, and ready to go to Hogwarts.” He said the last part quite sullenly.

“It won’t be too bad,” she said. He gave her a look, and she shrugged indifferently. “Okay, so it might be… but me and Ron will be there for you.” She grinned cheekily and Harry chuckled.

“Thank you,” he said, lightly but sincerely.

“I love you, Harry,” she said seriously, her eyes twinkling. “Remember that, okay?” She kissed his cheek and proceeded to bouncing out of the room.

Harry’s head was spinning.

“Wait!” he called out. Hermione stopped in her tracks and turned to face him. “What you said… what do you mean by that?”

Hermione bit her lip uncertainly. “I – I meant it as I said it. I love you.”

“But how do you love me? As a friend, or what?”

“Harry, I don’t know what you understood out of what I said, but I just wanted you to know that I love you. As a friend,” she stated.

Of course. Harry knew that. He had been expecting that. His mind knew… yet a part of it felt disappointed. It felt like his heart was dropping into the pit of his stomach.

“Alright, just making sure!” he said, trying to be as lighthearted as he can be. She seemed to have bought his nonchalant demeanor, but he wouldn’t put it pass her if she suspected something was a bit off.

She left the room, shutting the door.

He wouldn’t put it pass her at all. And like anything, she would be right. There was something a bit off. He just wasn’t sure what.

* * *

He didn’t know if it was just him that was feeling it, but it felt that things were a little strained between he and Hermione. Nothing physical or concrete could support this theory, but he just felt the tension there. He didn’t know how to take it. Not once had there been prolonged tension between the two of them. If there was anything between them, they would mend it, overcome it, and go back to the way things were.

This time it was different. He didn’t particularly like the tension that was there, but he didn’t want to bring it up. They were carrying on perfectly normal, and he didn’t want to break that. But he just could not deny the fact that not everything was normal.

And here they were, alone in the Common Room together, like numerous times before. She was reading a book, no news there, and he was attempting at reading one too. There was really no difference there either. He often found himself pretending to read, for his mind was usually clogged up with other things than mundane schoolwork. Never, not once, had it been because he was profoundly staring at Hermione.

But this time, it was. He was staring at her. He was wondering why he didn’t notice things about her. How much tamer her hair had become since the day he met her. When had it not been so bushy? How much she had genuinely grown from being a little girl to a woman.

I love you.

Those words that had came out of her mouth that day. They sounded heavenly. They were everything he had wanted to hear in a lifetime, and then some. He wanted to say them too. He wanted them to mean something to her… to sound as heavenly as he thought it sounded when she said those words… he wanted those words to be the ones that she had always wanted to hear…

I love you. I love you, Hermione.

The words were so beautiful. They held such meaning. It was the answer to life. So why couldn’t he say it? Why couldn’t he say those three small words?

I love you. As a friend.

He diverted his gaze furiously back to the text in front of him. That was why. They didn’t sound heavenly to her. They weren’t words that she had wanted to hear in a lifetime, from him. They meant nothing. They were just words.

Three small words.

Hermione stood up from her chair, stretched and yawned. Carrying the large book she began to walk up the stairs. “ ‘Night, Harry. See you in the morning,” she said to him.

“R-Right. See you in the morning. I think I’ll head up, too,” he responded. I love you. “Goodnight.” I love you.

She smiled at him and shuffled up the steps to the girls’ dormitories.

Three small words. Nothing more.

* * *

“Harry! I didn’t know you were still here…” she said breathlessly. The Common Room was now empty, once again, after a most eventful Quidditch victory party. Personally, Harry was surprised that Hermione was still up. She usually would have gone up earlier, complaints about Quidditch on the verge of her tongue.

“Sorry,” Harry apologized. “So, what are you doing?”

“I’m a Prefect. I have to clean up a bit.” Harry smiled at her knowingly and she finally broke down, shaking her head. “I don’t want the house elves doing all the work. So hex me.”

“I could never do that,” Harry said.

Hermione laughed. “Oh really? Not even if I annoyed you to no end?”

“Hey, you’ve annoyed me before and I haven’t harmed any part of you, now have I?”

She shrugged. “I guess not.”

“I rest my case.”

As he sat down on the couch, watching her clean up the Common Room, he found himself doing it again. He was staring at her. Staring at her brought him to thinking of certain things… certain things leading up to a certain moment containing those dreaded three small words. Quickly to distract himself, he helped her in tidying up.

“Thanks, Harry, but you really don’t have to. You must be tired from the game and all, you should get some sleep.”

“No way. I’m going to help you.”

She smiled.

I love you.

There it was again. Harry had half a mind to slap his head.

“What did you say?” He now had a full mind to slap his head. Had he said those words out loud?

“What?” he said equally confused.

“You said… you said ‘I love you’.” Her eyes were wide. Her mouth was open. Those were signs of shock. The good or the bad kind, he had no clue.

“A-And what if I did?” he said boldly, willing his legs that now was not the time to give way.

“Well, what do you mean by it?” she asked. The scene seemed remarkably familiar.

“I mean, I love you, what more is there?”

She stepped forward, the space between them closing in fast. “A lot more,” she said quietly. “Harry, just tell me.”

Eagerness. Need. Want. Those were in her eyes.

“Just tell me, Harry. I need to hear it. I’ve been wanting to hear it from you since… forever. I was too scared last time. I didn’t want to be rejected. I didn’t want to say those words and you not wanting to hear them. I was scared. But I can tell from the look in your eyes, Harry. Now please say it…”

She did want to hear it from him. He was going to say them, and they were going to be the words that she had been wanting to hear.

“I love you,” he said. And he felt that he had floated a few inches off the ground. His heart sure felt that way, and he lost all feeling in his legs.

Three small words were said.

Nothing more.

The two were too busy kissing for anymore to be said anyway.