Best Friends by Apolla Rating: G Ship: Harry & Hermione Canon: Books 1 - 4 Genre: Romance Status: Complete Length: 2,002 words in 1 chapter Published: 18 Jan 2004 Last updated: 18 Jan 2004 A contemplative Hermione reminisces on her relationship with Harry, from best friends to... best friends. What did two 2nd Year girls see that they didn't? Stream of consciousness from Hermione in the best James Joyce way! One-Shot. From the Unofficial Portkey Archive: https://portkey-archive.org/story/1594/ ------------------------------------------------------------------------ 1. Best Friends Best Friends *** He was my best friend. I could probably pinpoint the exact moment Harry became my best friend: he stuck his wand up a Mountain Troll’s nose for me. Ron became my best friend about a second later when he levitated the troll’s club, but Harry was technically my very first best friend. From then on we were more or less inseparable. I often wondered how he felt having a girl for a best friend, but eventually I stopped worrying about it. I decided that we were best friends regardless of gender. *** I know that everyone expected us to grow apart as we grew older and puberty hit (I overheard my parents talking about us once), but it didn’t happen. There were things we didn’t share with each other (he had Ron for that and I had Lavender and Parvati), but we could guess. We just tried to help each other through the ridiculous agonies of adolescence. There were the less than usual rites of passage too: the defeat of Lord Voldemort and his minions. Throughout it all, he was my best friend. When I told him that I would fight alongside him whether he liked it or not, he didn’t refuse or try to talk me out of it. He just looked sad and resigned and let me tag along. I like to think that I helped in the final battles, that I made a difference, but I’m not really so sure. I think that I was just another thing for him to worry about. In the end, the only person who made a difference was Harry. The rest of us could’ve stayed at home for all we were needed. Because it was always Harry’s fight, it was always his destiny. He did so well, too. I don’t think Voldemort knew what hit him. I saw a change in Harry that day, a visible change. That day I saw the weight of the world lift from his shoulders, which was remarkable really: He hadn’t yet reached his seventeenth birthday in that one strange summer before our final year. His seventeenth birthday party that July was the largest I've ever seen, but nothing less than our hero deserved. Many people would be at a loss if they suddenly fulfilled their destiny as he did that day. But for Harry Potter, it was the beginning of his life for real. Especially when Sirius was cleared and he was free to leave the Dursleys. *** Harry was a changed man afterwards. Not in a bad way. I worried that the extra publicity might turn his head, but the Dursleys did a good job on his insecurity complex and even after he defeated Voldemort and saved the world, he still didn’t think he’d done enough. But on the whole, Harry worried less and for once started to look to his future. He smiled even more than before, while the haunted look in his eyes that had lived there since Cedric’s death mostly disappeared. Throughout all this, he remained my best friend. School (what we had left of it) became even more fun now we didn’t have to fight evil. He was made Head Boy and I was made Head Girl in Seventh Year, which was rather handy when the three of us wanted to sneak off to Hogsmeade for Butterbeer or to visit Sirius. Harry remained always my very best friend. The final battle had made us even closer than before. We reached that point where we finished each other’s sentences and even had the occasional mind-reading incident. I know it unnerved Ron because our closeness came at a price: our closeness to Ron. We both adored him as we always had, but as we got closer and he found various girls to spend his evenings with, the trio became slightly unglued. The only time I seriously worried that we might drift apart was as the time came to leave school. I knew that he was considering a Quidditch career (nothing too intense for our Boy Wonder), while I was thinking of continuing my studies in London. Then we heard a very curious rumour, which changed things more than I could ever have imagined. I had a habit of staying down in the common room into the wee small hours to study. Harry would often come downstairs to join me if he couldn't sleep. I loved these times most of all, just the two of us sitting by the fire talking. Looking back now, it was almost sickeningly romantic as settings go, but we didn’t notice. Or rather, we didn’t notice until this particular night, and it wasn’t even anything we did ourselves. *** “You know, if you read too much, your head will explode.” It was in this manner that Harry announced his arrival in the common room. I looked up and raised an eyebrow. “Where did you discover that particular pearl of wisdom?” I asked. “I read it.” He grinned and settled into the chair opposite mine. Firelight glinted off his glasses and he sighed as the fire’s warmth filled him. “Can’t sleep?” “Nope.” Our conversations usually started this way: small talk until I finally gave up trying to work. Then we would begin our deep and meaningful discussions. On this particular night, I didn’t even bother trying to work once he’d arrived. Instead I shut my book and gave my entire attention to Emerald Eyes. “Ready for the big game?” I asked. “More or less. I’m hoping to enchant the Bludgers to break Malfoy’s nose.” When I said deep and meaningful, I may have exaggerated. “You’ll never get into Madam Hooch’s office.” “Yeah,” Harry smirked wickedly and his eyes glinted. “I’ll just get Seamus to do it.” “Will you and Malfoy ever get along?” “Do Sirius and Snape?” he asked. I laughed, thinking of Sirius and Snape bickering through the entire duration of the final battle. They were like the Odd Couple without any affection whatsoever. “Fine. But try not to kill him.” “I promise,” said Harry, sounding like he meant it. Almost, anyway. “Did you get an owl from Sirius yet?” I asked. This was the point where the conversations usually became deeper. “Yes. He’s in Romania. He said that the local vampire population has been surprisingly helpful in turning over hiding Death Eaters.” Now Harry became particularly sober. I knew how much he worried about Sirius, and I didn’t blame him: he hadn’t had him back long. I got up and knelt beside him. He automatically took my hand. “He’ll be fine. For all his jokes and charm, Sirius is a strong person. He survived thirteen years in Azkaban. He’ll be fine.” Harry nodded. “I know. But I...” he paused. Killing Voldemort had exorcised many of Harry’s demons, but his parents remained dead. “I can’t lose him as well. He’s the only parent I ever knew.” At this point, I simply wrapped my arms tightly around him and hugged him. I felt his hands on my back returning the hug tightly, not wanting to let go. “He’ll be fine,” I repeated, trying to reassure him. “You promise?” he asked me. Not even the deep tone of his voice could mask the childish insecurities in his voice. “I promise,” I managed to say. What could I say? Of course I promised him. I also promised myself that if I ever met a Dursley, I’d hex them into next year. “Thank you,” he said, still holding on quite tightly. “You’re welcome. Always,” I replied. “What would I do without you?” asked Harry. I knew the answer to this one. “Exactly what I’d do without you. Wither away and die, I expect.” This was meant jokingly but there was a sizeable grain of truth to be found there. “Sounds about right,” he agreed. I smiled up at him, glad he was feeling reassured. I was about to say something else when the distinct sound of giggling cut through the night air. Harry looked up suspiciously. I looked up and saw a couple of Second Year girls scurry back up the stairs. “What were they doing?” asked Harry, caught between anger and amusement. I shrugged and we went on with our conversation. “Do you think we’ll be all right?” he asked. I was beginning to get worried now: Harry hadn’t been this introspective since before the final battle. “Yes,” I said sincerely “I really do.” “All right,” he nodded, clearly trying to become chirpier. I hugged him tightly, trying to transfer all of his hurt and insecurities to me. *** Then I heard the giggle again. I looked up, but this time they’d hidden better. “I told you she was his girlfriend!” one of them whispered loudly. On hearing this, Harry and I sprang apart as if by hit by a thousand volts. “Did you hear that?” he hissed. I nodded dumbly. People thought I was Harry’s girlfriend? Since when? “Well... Uh... Goodnight!” I managed to stutter before bolting up the stairs. It’s possible I ran into one of the Second years on the way but if I did, I didn't notice. *** I still don’t know what made me run off that night. I wonder now if it was the way I was confronted with feelings I’d refused to acknowledge until then, but I know that the next day Harry looked very new. He looked... desirable. Highly desirable, to be honest. I’d always known that Harry was a good looking young man, but that didn’t mean I loved him or anything. Right? *** As it turned out, finding him desirable didn’t mean I loved him, just that I had eyes. The way that I thought about him all the time, the way my heartbeat quickened when he came into the room, the way my heart actually fluttered when his green eyes locked with my brown eyes, these things meant that I loved him. For the cleverest witch in school, I was incredibly stupid. I had read of love, but I didn’t notice it sneak up on me. Ron suggested that I was too busy reading to notice. It was fairly simple: I was in love with my best friend. And to cut a long, slightly amusing story short, it turned out that he loved me back. It turned out that those giggling Second Years saw more than we did. Sometimes I suppose, you just need that distance. *** After that ridiculously slow build up (seven years for those keeping score) things progressed quite quickly. We left school at the end of that year. Gryffindor had once again won both the House and Quidditch Cups and the two of us left with an impressive number of NEWTs. I didn’t do quite as well as I’d hoped (Harry was quite distracting), but I still got the best marks in school. That annoyed the Ravenclaws, I can tell you. Well, we went off to London and bought a flat together. Harry decided, to my eternal surprise, to join me at the London University of Wizardry. University was never really for him though, and when the Appleby Arrows Seeker retired, Harry received an offer he couldn't refuse. Ron never quite forgave him for not becoming a Cannon. When I wasn't studying, I followed Harry around Europe and found that overall, professional Quidditch was far more exciting than its school equivalent and soon I became a real fan. I always took books with me though: you never can tell when the game will last six hours before the Snitch deigns to turn up. That happened when the Arrows were in Bulgaria. Viktor Krum was the Vultures’ seeker, but I don’t mind bragging that Harry was far superior a player and made Viktor’s Wronski feint look like a pantomime move worthy of Widow Twankey. And after everything that’s happened: the fact that we got married and joined the world of grown-ups, Harry is still as he was when we were eleven: My best friend. The End