I Promise You

coriander

Rating: PG
Genres: Romance
Relationships: Harry & Hermione
Book: Harry & Hermione, Books 1 - 5
Published: 11/02/2004
Last Updated: 11/02/2004
Status: completed

Hermione is upset, and Harry is determined to find out why. As he tries to console her, he realizes his undiscovered feelings for his best friend. Set to the song "The Promise" by 'When in Rome.' One shot FLUFF!

Chapters

1. I Promise You

1. I Promise You

I Promise You

The first thing that Harry Potter noticed when he stepped through the portrait hole was the bushy-haired girl curled up on the couch. It was late and everyone else in Gryffindor tower was presumably already in bed. He watched her for a moment, wondering why she was still in the common room at… he looked at his watch… one o'clock in the morning. Harry had told she and Ron not wait up for him. Tonight he had detention with Snape and he knew he would be late. Go figure.

Harry knew that Hermione was awake. He could see her shoulders shaking. Shoulders shaking? Was she crying? He quietly padded to the couch without her hearing him.

“Hermione?”

Harry had to stifle a chuckle when the girl jumped at the sound of his voice. Once her breathing steadied, she turned and looked up at him with puffy eyes. Harry's heart ached at the sight of Hermione so upset. All he wanted to do was make whatever was hurting her go away.

Harry sat gingerly on the couch beside her. “Hermione, what's wrong?”

“I can't Harry,” she sobbed, looking away from him.

Harry did the only thing he could think of; he pulled her to him and wrapped her in his arms. It felt good for him to hold her like this, to comfort her. But he hated that he didn't know what was causing his best friend to soak his jumper with her tears.

“You can't what, Mione?”

She pulled away slightly and brown eyes met green. The fear and pain he could see there pulled his heartstrings to the limit. He tried to convey all the love and compassion he felt into their gaze. Harry hoped that she could see it.

Hermione shook her head and looked away again. “I just can't. I can't talk to you about this one, Harry.”

Harry's hand reached around to bring her to face him. The look in her eyes was killing him. The two of them had been through so much. Harry wondered why she couldn't talk to him about this. He subconsciously wiped her tears away with his thumb. Bending his head down, Harry pulled her gaze back to him.

“You know you can tell me anything, right?”

Hermione slowly nodded and buried her face in his jumper again. Harry gently fingered her curls as he stroked her back comfortingly. “C'mon, Hermione, whatever it is, I'm here.”

“Harry, please. I can't,” she pleaded as she pulled out of his arms and ran up the stairs to her dormitory. Harry could do nothing but watch her go. He would find out what was bothering his best friend, even if he had to wait. He would be there when she needed him.

If you need a friend, don't look to a stranger,
You know in the end, I'll always be there.

That night Harry lay in his bed trying to sleep. His mind would not escape the look he saw in Hermione's eyes. He hadn't seen that much fear and pain in them since Ron, Hermione and himself defeated Voldemort three months ago. The look in Hermione's eyes tonight was the same as the look Harry woke up to in the infirmary following the standoff with the Dark Lord.

His mind started to wander to other times Hermione had that look in her eyes. He remembered how she looked cowering under the sink in the girl's loo while he and Ron fought off the Mountain Troll during first year. When she left him between the fires on the way to the Philosopher's Stone. Then again in second year, when Harry told them about the voices he had been hearing. She even had that look while she was petrified the same year.

Harry sighed and rolled over as he thought about all the things he and his best friends had been through. He found that in each instance, Hermione had a fearful pained look in her eye. He didn't think her fear stemmed from the situation, exactly. She wasn't afraid for herself, she was afraid for… him? A sudden light switched on in Harry's brain. Was she really afraid for him?

He sorted through more memories and recalled that same look in her eyes in the Shrieking Shack during third year and then again when the dementors appeared by the lake. And what about when Harry's name had been drawn for the Goblet of Fire? Every time he tried to do a Wronski Feint. When he wanted to sneak out of the castle to go to Hogsmeade. When he wanted to go running to the Department of Mysteries to find Sirius. When he said it was time to face his destiny and to fulfill the prophecy. Hell, when he told her about the bloody prophecy.

Harry wondered why he had never seen it before. Hermione feared for him. She pained for him. Throughout everything they have been through, she had been there for him and he for her.

But when you're in doubt, and when you're in danger,
Take a look all around, and I'll be there.

Harry awoke the next morning to Ron's clumsiness as he tried to dress himself. Sometimes, Harry wondered if Tonks was rubbing off a bit on his friend. Harry shot up out of his bed, when Ron nearly fell on top of him as he struggled to get his trousers on. Harry was not a morning person and hated being woken up like this; but he couldn't help laughing as he watched his best friend fall face first onto the floor in a tangle of trousers and legs.

Ron said nothing, but scowled at Harry as the boy walked to the loo. Harry looked at himself in the mirror and couldn't believe what he was seeing. It looked like he hadn't slept for days. The dark circles under his eyes were almost as black as they would be if he were hit by a bludger. His skin was pale and his hair mussed, worse than usual. All in all, he looked like death warmed over.

When Harry finished his morning constitutional, he found that everyone else had already gone to breakfast. Eventually, Harry followed suit. He wondered how it would be seeing Hermione at the table after his personal revelations last night. However, he didn't have to wait until he reached the Great Hall, because he found Hermione sitting in the common room staring into the fire.

Again that pained look was in her eyes. Harry could see it when he approached her and put his hand softly on her shoulder.

“I'm sorry, Harry,” she whispered. “For running out that way last night. I just have a lot on my mind, that's all.”

Harry sat down beside her and pulled her so that she was leaning on him. “It's all right, Hermione. I understand. But when you ever decide to talk about it, I'm here.”

“I know, Harry. But, it's girl stuff, you wouldn't understand.”

Harry feigned being insulted, but then smiled when he caught her eye. “Try me, you never know. We've had girl talks before.”

“This is different.”

“I can always put bows in my hair and makeup on, if that makes it any better.”

Hermione couldn't hold the snigger from the picture of Harry in drag. She looked up to see him smiling at her. That smile could melt ice cream on the coldest winter's day. She had always loved his smile. But for some reason, the smile didn't quite reach his eyes, like it had over the past few months.

“Harry, are you all right?”

He nodded, letting his smile falter a bit. “I just didn't sleep all that well last night. I'm fine.”

“Are you sure? You can tell me.”

Harry looked up at her sincere brown eyes. Confusion and hurt flowed through him. How could she ask him to tell her what was wrong, when she refused him the same courtesy? He pulled his eyes away and clenched his jaw, trying to suppress any outburst that wanted to spew forth. Too late.

“You actually want me to tell you what's wrong? I'll tell you, if you tell me.” Her eyes welled up slightly with tears, and Harry immediately regretted what he'd just said. The pained look was there again, where just moments ago there was laughter and mirth.

“Harry, I can't. I wish you could understand; but this is not something that the `Great Harry Potter' can fix, all right?” She stood up, grabbed her bag and stormed out of the portrait hole while Harry kicked himself in the arse.

I'm sorry, but I'm just thinking of the right words to say.
I know they don't sound the way I planned them to be.

Harry entered the potions classroom and sat in his usual spot next to Ron. “Where were you at breakfast mate?”

Harry shrugged his shoulders defeated. “I just decided to skip breakfast this morning is all.”

Ron gave him a strange look before going into the diatribe of how Seamus and Dean had been snorting porridge through their noses just to see if they could do it. Harry couldn't help but wonder how Dean and Seamus had made it to be almost eighteen years old. Ron's voice droned on a bit and Harry found himself tuning him out. It wasn't until Snape had entered the room in all his dark fury, that Harry realized that he was ignoring Ron and staring at the back of Hermione's head.

Her chestnut curls fell haphazardly down her back, curling under near her slender waist. He noticed that she had removed her school robes and was just wearing the uniform skirt, shirt, tie and vest. She was beautiful. Where did that come from? Harry smiled as he realized that his best friend truly was beautiful. The way her hair shone in the torchlight of the dungeons. The way her skin glowed from the fire beneath her cauldron. The way her eyes sparkled at making the perfect potion. The way her hips swayed as she walked to the storage room. The way her legs curved just enough to say that she was in shape but not too skinny. The way her breasts strained against the fabric of her vest. The way the fire shone in her eyes as she realized he had been watching her.

“Harry, what's going on with you and Hermione?”

Harry shook his head to clear the picture of Hermione's breasts from his mind and shrugged his shoulders. “I don't know what you're talking about Ron.”

He snorted at that. “Whatever, mate. All I know is that you missed breakfast, look like hell, and have been staring at our best friend all class instead of helping me brew this bloody potion.”

Harry hadn't realized that he had been focused on Hermione all of the last forty-five minutes. Damn! “I'm sorry, Ron.”

“I know, Harry it's all right. She's acting mental too. She was late to breakfast, ate two bites of eggs and said she had to go to the library before class.”

“And that's unusual how?”

Ron shook his head. “The look in her eyes. That's what was unusual. She looked upset. Did you guys have a fight?”

Harry shrugged. He wouldn't necessarily consider it a fight, per se; more of a disagreeme… no it was a fight. Ron patted him on the back consolingly.

“So, when are you going to tell her?” Ron asked in a whisper. Harry looked up and saw a twinkling in Ron's eyes that reveled Dumbledore.

“Tell her what, Ron?”

Another snort came from the redhead. “That you love her, you prat.”

“I don't lov… Oh bloody hell. That's what this is. Isn't it?” Ron nodded smugly. Harry looked up to see Hermione in front of them, cleaning up the left over ingredients from her potion. Her tiny hands slid over the marble table, sweeping off any excess crumbs or scrapings. Her hair fell into her eyes and Harry wanted to reach out and push it behind her ear. He watched her profile as she gathered all her tools up and carried them to the washbasin.

“You've got it bad, Harry.” Ron smirked as he watched Harry watch Hermione.

“Why didn't I see it before?”

Ron chuckled. “Because you are almost as blind as I am. I can see it when it happens to someone else, but couldn't see it when it was happening to me. Then BOOM, I finally realized that Luna's the love of my life.”

“How do I tell her, Ron?”

“Just be yourself, Harry. She loves you as it is. It's not a far jump from friends to lovers.”

“Lovers?” Harry exclaimed, taken aback.

“You know what I mean. C'mon lets bottle this up and get out of here.” The two of them stood, cleaned their area, and bottled their potion before placing the bottle on Snape's desk. As Harry turned around to leave, he caught glimpse of Hermione's fleeting back. His heart gave a lurch. He wanted to find out why she was so upset. Why was it so hard for her to talk to him? What would she say if he got the courage to actually tell her how he felt about her? As he thought about it, Harry realized that this was going to be easier said than done.

But if you wait around awhile, I'll make you fall for me,
I promise you, I promise you I will.

The day passed quickly, and after dinner, Harry found himself sitting across a chessboard from Ron, losing pathetically. “Harry, c'mon. You never let me win this easily.”

“Oh, sorry Ron.” Ron looked up to see that Harry had lost interest in the chess game and was staring intently at the bushy-haired prefect sitting in a window seat.

Hermione was sitting in the window looking out onto the school's grounds. It was a beautiful night, from what Harry could see. It was the beginning of February and he was sure that the grounds had been covered with snow. He could see it in his mind, how the rolling hills of Hogwarts' grounds glowed under the moonlight, a blue shimmer reflecting on the snow and ice. He wanted to go stand by her and see if his vision was right, but the tension between them had thickened throughout the day.

Hermione had never given him the cold shoulder like this. She was always the one that stood by him. She was the one that helped him over the hurdles of his life. She was his rock, his anchor. Why, now that he realized how much she means to him, was she pushing him away? Harry shook his head and looked down at the stone floor. It was too late. He noticed her too late.

“Write her.”

Harry looked up to see Ron putting away his mangled chess pieces. “What?”

Ron looked up and smiled. “Write her. If you can't tell your best friend that you love her, write her.”

“She's mad at me Ron. She'll never accept a note from me…”

“She doesn't have to know it's from you.”

Harry's brow furrowed. “You mean like a secret admirer kind of thing?”

Ron smiled triumphantly. “Exactly.”

“I don't know, Ron. I wouldn't know what to say.”

Ron shrugged before packing his books into his bag. “Well, I'm headed upstairs. G'night, Harry.”

“Night.”

“Oh and Harry?” Harry looked up at his best friend. “You might want to think of something to say soon, she's headed over here.” Harry looked around and saw that indeed, Hermione was walking toward him. He looked over to where Ron had been and realized that he was already gone.

Harry's eyes met Hermione's. She looked sad. He hated seeing her sad. The fact that she was just standing there, not saying anything was not helping him either. “Hermione?”

“Can I sit here?” Harry nodded and pushed Ron's chair out so she could sit.

“Listen, Harry. I'm sorry. I know I'm saying that a lot, but I am. I didn't think you would want to hear about this.”

Harry softened at the quiet tone of her voice. “Hermione, I'm here and I'm listening. I don't want to pressure you into telling me something you don't want to.”

“I need to ask someone. I need some advice. You have always been here for me, but I wasn't sure…”

Harry reached across the table and took her hand in his. “Hermione, talk to me, please?”

She sighed heavily and looked into his eyes. Harry loved her, he would never make fun of her or berate her for something as stupid as this. Would he? “I think I'm in love.”

Of all the things Harry anticipated her to say that was not one of them. “Love?”

She nodded. And Harry's heart broke into a million pieces.

“How does he feel about you?”

“I don't know,” she sighed looking down in her lap.

“Have you told him?”

“No.” She sounded like that was the most obvious thing in the world.

“Why not?”

“I don't know!” she snapped.

“Hermione, you wanted my advice. I'm just trying to understand everything. You think you're in love with someone, but don't know what he feels like because you have never told him.”

“That's about right.”

Harry squeezed her hand gently. “Hermione, you have to tell him.”

“What if he doesn't feel the same?”

“Then, let him go.”

Harry wasn't sure what he said that changed the air around them, but there was a sudden energy around Hermione that was not comfortable. “It's not that easy Harry. I love him. L-O-V-E. Love. Do you know what love is Harry?”

Harry snapped. “No, Hermione, I don't. I lost my parents before I could even remember them. I was raised in a cupboard under the stairs by the worst muggles imaginable. No, I don't know what love is. And if this is what it does to people I never want to find out!” Harry stood up before she could push the dagger any further into his heart. She was in love with someone. For the first time in Harry's life, he thought he knew love just to have his heart ripped out.

Before he could make it to the stairs to the dormitory, she had reached up and grabbed his hand, pulling him back to her. “Harry, I shouldn't have said that. I'm sorry.”

“You really have been sorry a lot lately, Hermione. I don't know what's going on with you, but I can't sit by and watch it happen anymore. Come see me when you find the old Hermione. I don't like this one. Good night.”

At that last statement, Hermione's grasp on his hand loosened and he continued his original stomping up the stairs to bed. He refused to look back at her. She had hurt him. They hadn't been able to talk in a few days without snapping at each other. He didn't know what was going on, and he wasn't sure if he really wanted to know anymore. Not if it was going to hurt this bad.

When your day is through, and so is your temper,
You know what to do, I'm gonna always be there.
Sometimes if I shout, it's not what's intended
These words just come out, with no gripe to bear.

Two days went by without one word shared between the two. Harry was dying inside. He needed Hermione. He loved her, but she loved someone else. He had said things that shouldn't have been said. He had hurt her just as much as she had hurt him, and he couldn't forgive himself for that.

As he lay in bed one night, Ron's words haunted him. “Write her. If you can't tell your best friend that you love her, write her.” Harry fought with himself for quite a while, before grabbing a quill and parchment of his bedside table.

Your whispers are like a summer breeze, cooling in the heat.
Your voice is like the wind, comforting after the storm.
Your scent is intoxicating, like a fine red wine,
How I long to make you see me, how I long to make you mine.

~Your secret love

Harry watched the next morning as a brown school owl dropped a small envelope in Hermione's lap. Post wasn't due until lunch, so this completely surprised the young witch. She looked around to see who might have sent it, to see if anyone gave even a clue.

“Open it,” Ginny, who was sitting beside Hermione, urged.

Hermione silently unfolded the parchment and read the words. She gasped at what she read. Someone liked her. She looked around the Great Hall again to see if anyone looked suspicious. No. Everyone had returned to eating their meals when they realized that Hermione was not going to make a big deal about her unexpected post.

“What's it say, Hermione?” Lavender asked as she tried to snatch the letter from her hands.

Hermione grabbed it back and held it to her chest. “It's none of your business,” she snapped as she gathered her books and fled the Great Hall. Harry couldn't help but smile as he watched her flee the hall with a dazed look on her face. She had liked it. He saw it in her eyes. She may not be speaking to him right now, but he was definitely speaking to her.

I'm sorry, but I'm just thinking of the right words to say.
I know they don't sound the way I planned them to be.

History of Magic was the most boring class known to man. Today, Harry was wondering how Professor Binns could really know all that much about Goblin Rebellions, but then again, he could have been alive to see all of them. Who knows? As Harry counted the stones in the ceiling, he lost count when a school owl flew through the window. Harry smiled to himself when he saw it land on Hermione's desk.

If Professor Binns noticed anything out of the ordinary, he didn't let it be known as he droned on about `Griselda the Great' or something like that. Everyone's attention was on Hermione as she untied the note from the owl's leg. As the tie was loosed the owl flew out the window as if it had never been there to begin with. Everyone continued to watch as she opened the letter and read.

I love to get lost in your eyes
I could go miles and never leave the peace I find there.
You give me hope and joy and make me feel free
I see such love in your eyes; I just wish it were for me.

~Your secret love

“Two in one day?” Ron teased Hermione as they left the classroom. Harry stayed back as to not make her feel uncomfortable by his presence. They still weren't talking, well in the conventional way. He wondered what she would think once she realized the letters were from him.

“Do you have a problem with it Ron?”

He put his arm around her to calm her down. “I don't mean anything by it, Mione. It just seems like someone really wants you to notice them.”

“I don't know Ron. I fell in love before, or at least that's what I thought it was. I can't go all woozy over a few love notes. Now, I need to go to the library before lunch. See you.”

“Yeah, see you, Mione,” Ron said somberly as he watched her almost run toward the library. He turned to see Harry standing there heartbroken. She was still in love with this bloke. How could Harry compete with that, when she wouldn't even acknowledge his existence at the moment?

“Don't worry, mate. It'll work out. It always does.”

“Does it, Ron? Really? Because it feels like I'm fighting a losing battle. She won't talk to me. She's right, it's just a couple love notes.”

Ron watched as his other best friend stomped dejectedly down the hall. Harry needed help. Ron knew that the two of them would be perfect for each other, if they would let nature take its course. Maybe nature needed a little boost.

Later, Ron found Hermione sitting in the Great Hall eating her lunch. He sat down across from her like he always did, but today's lunch would be anything but normal. He smirked to himself as he felt Harry sit next to him. It's time for `the Boost.'

“Hey, Hermione, are you going to the ball Saturday?” he asked between bites of his sandwich.

She looked at him over her teacup. “Are you kidding? I'll be sitting in my dorm reading up on our potions assignment, like always. No one has asked me, and no one will. They never do.”

Ron snorted and raised an eyebrow, “What about your secret admirer? He seems keen on getting your attention.”

If looks could kill, Ron would be six feet under. “For all I know, it's Malfoy that's writing those notes.”

Harry looked taken aback and blurted, “You don't really think it's Malfoy, do you?”

Those were the first words exchanged by either one of them over the past few days and Harry wished he could suck them back into his mouth. “No, Harry, I don't think its Malfoy. But I know its not who I want it to be,” her voice trailed off a bit toward the end and she hoped that no one heard her.

Before Hermione could grab her books and leave, Ron stopped her. “Who do you want it to be Hermione?” Hermione looked abashed. With a loud huff she turned and rushed out of the hall without so much as an acknowledgement to his question.

“There you go, Harry. Here's your chance.”

Harry looked at his redheaded friend incredulously. He couldn't believe that Ron had just done that. “You realize that she's not going to speak to either of us now, don't you?”

“I'm used to it mate. She goes days without talking to me. She'll get over it and I will be her wonderful best friend again in less than seventy-two hours.”

“Ron, you are an arse, you know that?”

“I know, and you don't need to worry about me or my arse; you have a dance to get ready for. Write her and invite her. Obviously, no one else has asked her.” As Ron got up to leave for Charms class he leaned down and whispered in Harry's ear, “You're welcome by the way.”

>Harry swung around to catch his friend in the gut, but Ron was too fast for him. When Harry turned, he was already standing at the doors, ready to leave. Ron was right. He needed to do this. Maybe she would finally see him. Harry shook his head. He couldn't believe that he was getting girl advice from Ron Weasley of all people. Harry knew what Ron just did. He did it on purpose. The prat. If this did end up working out, Harry would have to thank him. Maybe.

And if I had to walk the world, I'd make you fall for me,
I promise you, I promise you…

The week went by with little fanfare. Hogwarts was decked out in red and pink, reminiscent of Lockhart' days as a professor. Valentine's Day was fast approaching and Harry was struggling to keep his distance from many of his obsessed fans. He had turned down many an offer for a date for the ball. He only wanted to go with one person, and hoped that he could woo her.

Harry watched as yet another school owl entered the Great Hall on Friday morning, flying straight toward Hermione. She looked up and groaned, but Harry noticed the sparkle of anticipation hiding in her eyes. He kept his eyes down at his plate, surreptitiously watching her as she untied the note and sent the owl off with a piece of toast.

Her eyes scanned the parchment for a few seconds before she folded it up, put it in her pocket and left the hall without a word. Harry smiled to himself as Ron looked at him questioningly. “What?” Harry asked when he felt his best friend's stare.

“Why did she leave so fast? She usually reads it first. There's no way she could've read it that fast.”

Harry gazed at his friend. “Follow me,” was all he said as he stood and led Ron out of the Great Hall. The redhead followed curiously. He wasn't sure what Harry had done, but it must have been something good for him to act this way. The two of them started off toward the library, undoubtedly where Hermione had gone.

As they rounded the final bend, they saw Hermione stepping out of the double doors to the library. Ron couldn't contain the gasp at what he saw. Hermione was carrying a bunch of roses in her arm. As she obliviously passed by the two boys, Ron noticed that she was crying. He turned to follow her and quickly caught up.

“Hermione, what's wrong?”

“Oh, Ron. What am I supposed to do?” At these words, Harry hung back and stepped into an alcove. She didn't realize he was there, and if she did, she wouldn't tell Ron anything. She had been avoiding Harry like the plague since she got the last note on Tuesday.

“About what, Mione?”

She sighed heavily and looked around to make sure they were alone. Ron followed her gaze and saw that Harry was gone. “I don't know who keeps sending me this stuff - first the poems and now roses. I don't know who it is, but I can't lead them on. I love H… someone. I really do. How do I let my secret admirer down without hurting them?”

“Hermione, maybe you should keep it going. Maybe this secret admirer thing would make whomever jealous. It's worth a shot.”

“I don't know Ron. I'm scared.”

“Of what?”

“Being hurt.”

“Its just poems and flowers, Hermione. Someone likes you.”

“But I love… someone else.”

Ron put his arm around her shoulder and guided her toward Transfiguration. “It'll all work out, Hermione. I promise.”

Harry stood in the alcove for quite a while. She was still in love with this other boy. The poems and flowers weren't working. He slid down the wall and brought his knees up to his chest. There had to be a way to get her to see that whomever she is in love with, isn't the one she needs to be with. He is.

I gotta tell you, I gotta tell you, I need to tell you...

Harry sat in the common room that night, working on his homework for the weekend. His mind refused to stay on task as he kept looking up to see the object of his affection sitting by herself in the corner. Her books were strewn around her, but she was not looking at them. A piece of parchment in her hands was all she was seeing. Harry looked away from her and tried unsuccessfully to comprehend his divination homework. All he could think of was Hermione and the newest note in her hands.

He had pained over that parchment for what seemed like hours. A school owl delivered it to her during dinner. She was completely shocked by it. This was the first note to be delivered at the evening meal. He looked up to her again and saw that her eyes were watering. No, not just watering, she was crying. Harry's heart broke once more as he watched the tears stream down her face. He closed his eyes, remembering what he wrote her.

Dearest Hermione -

A poem cannot express everything I feel I must say. I want to tell you everything, but some things must wait. What I can say is this. I love you. I know you're probably thinking that I am some obsessed stalker, but let me assure you - I am not.

It has taken me a long time to come to terms with what I feel about you. I finally realized, probably too late, that I'm in love with you. I'm not sure when it happened, but it did. You are the reason I wake up in the mornings. I long to see your beautiful face and hear your sweet voice. You make me smile with just a look and I can't catch my breath.

My heart aches when you are sad and leaps when you are happy. I love the way you look when you are concentrating and the way you bite your bottom lip when you're nervous. I love the way your eyes sparkle when you know the answer to something. I love the way you chew on the end of your quill when you are thinking. I love everything about you.

Tomorrow is Valentine's Day, and the ball. I would like to take you, but seeing as you have no idea who I am, that would be presumptuous. But I guess I am presumptuous, after all. I will be waiting for you at the entrance to the Great Hall, Saturday night at 7:00. I will be holding a rose just like the ones I sent you this morning. Please meet me, if only to tell me off. Please. I will be hoping and waiting.

~Your secret love

Harry kept watching her as she read and reread the letter. A few times, he saw her gaze off into the night sky, and wished he could read her mind. Who did she want her secret admirer to be? Would she be there tomorrow night? He wanted so badly to run over and wipe her tears away, but she still wouldn't talk to him.

He let his eyes fall back down to his homework. There was no sense in dwelling over what ifs. He just prayed that she would meet him tomorrow night. As he tried unsuccessfully to concentrate on his books, he didn't notice that the common room had cleared out, except for he and Hermione. He looked up and caught her eye for the first time in a few days. He missed her.

“Hermione, I'm sorry.”

At the sound of his voice she seemed to come out of a trance, like she had been daydreaming or something of the sort. Her half smile made his heart melt. “So am I Harry.”

Harry gathered his papers and books and treaded over to the table she was sitting at. “Can I sit with you?” She nodded without looking at him.

“Harry - “

“Hermione - “

They both chuckled as they spoke at the same time. Harry motioned for her to go ahead. “Harry, look, I'm sorry I have been such a chit. I've had a lot on my mind, and the second I think I have it all worked out, something else gets thrown in the mix.”

He saw the folded parchment of the last letter marking her place in her Arithmancy book and nodded toward it. “Is that another love letter?”

“Yeah,” she said sheepishly, refusing to meet his eyes.

“Is everything all right?”

Hermione took a deep breath, “Yeah, I think so.” Before he could ask her anything else, she looked at her watch and realized how late it was. “I'm sorry, Harry, I've got to go to bed. I need to go to Hogsmeade in the morning.” As she gathered her books and such, she turned to him. “Goodnight, Harry.”

“'Night Mione.”

Harry watched her go up the stairs to her dorm. Hogsmeade. He had forgotten that tomorrow was also a Hogsmeade weekend. Perfect. All he needed was one more thing - a last ditch effort - the perfect Valentine's gift for her.

I'm sorry, but I'm just thinking of the right words to say.
I know they don't sound the way I planned them to be.
But if you wait around awhile, I'll make you fall for me.
I promise you, I promise you I will.

After breakfast Saturday morning, all of the students flooded Hogsmeade. Many were in search of dresses for the ball or last minute Valentine's gifts. That's why Harry was there today, a gift. Harry knew exactly what he wanted and wasted no time in heading straight for Facet & Stone the finest in wizarding jewelry stores. It didn't take Harry long to find the perfect gift, and before he knew it, he was headed back toward Hogwarts to the owlery.

Hermione had returned just before lunch, with a large parcel slung over her shoulder. Harry wasn't sure what it was, but guessed by the Gladrag's tag, that it was a dress for the ball. Harry's stomach flipped. It may have actually worked. She bought a dress; maybe she would be meeting him after all. If not, after lunch she definitely would be.

Harry headed to lunch to get a prime seat for the next delivery. Just as he anticipated, Hermione sat directly across from him. He tried to hide his smile behind his roast beef sandwich, but he knew his eyes would betray him. His eyes stayed glued to his plate as he heard the rustling of wings.

The Great Hall flooded with hundreds of owls carrying red and pink envelopes, obviously filled with valentines. Harry looked up as Hedwig flew toward him and dropped a pile of envelopes on his plate. He offered her a piece of bread and she nibbled his finger affectionately before flying off. As Harry watched her fly away, he caught Hermione eyeing the many letters in front of him. She abruptly looked away before Harry could ask her what was wrong.

Finally one last owl entered the Hall, carrying a small burgundy box. Again Harry tried to suppress his smile as the owl landed in front of Hermione. She untied the parcel and opened the attached note.

Happy Valentine's Day. I saw these and thought of you. Please wear them tonight, I know they will look beautiful on you.

~Your secret love

Hermione smiled as she opened the small box. What she saw inside was not what she expected. Her eyes grew as big as saucers when they caught a glimpse of the sapphire pendant and earrings lying on the bed of silk. Her fingers played lightly over the stones. She was speechless. No one had ever given her anything so precious. She wiped her eyes of the stray tears lingering in them. How could she not meet her secret admirer tonight? He had obviously spent a great deal of money on her. Her mind wandered over the list of potential admirers once more, getting no closer to figuring out it was than she was a week ago.

Harry reached over to look in the box. “Wow, Mione. Those are sapphires, aren't they?”

She nodded, “My favorite.”

“Someone really is fond of you.” Harry smiled.

Hermione looked up and brown met green for the first time in a long time. Harry saw the pain again in her eyes. He wanted her to be happy, why did he see such pain? He was sure that the jewelry would make her smile. Before he could say anything, she had cleared her plate and headed out the door.

Harry wandered aimlessly around the castle, trying to kill time before the ball. He had looked for Hermione, but hadn't found her yet. She wasn't in the library, or in her rooms, according to Lavender. Harry hoped that she would still meet him for the ball. The hippogriffs in his stomach were twisting and tying themselves in knots the closer the time came for him to get ready.

He sat in the common room and watched as all his friends came down at six o'clock to meet their dates for the ball. He had told Hermione to meet him at seven and had still yet to see her since lunch. The common room cleared rapidly and Harry was left staring into the fire.

Suddenly something or rather someone barreled through the portrait hole, headed for the girls staircase. Harry's eyes caught sight of her bushy brown hair, before he could really register who had just entered, “Oi, Hermione.” The blur stopped.

“Oh, hi Harry,” she answered breathless.

“What's the rush?” he asked innocently.

“I have to go get ready for the b… Aren't you going to the ball?”

“Nope,” he said shrugging his shoulder. “I was hoping I could stay with you and talk, but I guess you found a date, huh?”

She looked down sheepishly and nodded.

“So, the bloke you're in love with finally opened his eyes?” She looked up and Harry felt a stab in his heart, when she sadly shook her head.

“My secret admirer asked me to meet him at seven.”

Harry pasted a fake smile across his face, hoping she couldn't see through him. “Well, you have forty-five minutes, you better hurry, then,” he said noncommittally as he looked into the fire once more. Hermione took it as her cue and quietly walked up the stairs to her dorm.

Once Harry heard her door close, he jumped up and ran up the boys' stairs to get ready to meet Hermione at the Great Hall. He knew he had to be fast so she didn't catch him walking through the castle in his dress robes. She didn't suspect a thing. Harry had to smile at that, but his heart ached at the fact that she would probably rather be going with someone else.

He pulled on his robes, combed through his hair, as if it would actually help, grabbed a rose and ran down to the Great Hall. This was it the moment of truth. He couldn't turn back now. It was too late; five minutes and counting. It seemed to be the longest five minutes of his life, as he stood there waiting for her to appear.

I'm sorry, but I'm just thinking of the right words to say.
I know they don't sound the way I planned them to be.
But if you wait around awhile, I'll make you fall for me.
I promise you. I promise you I will… I will…

Hermione walked down the stairs toward the Great Hall with butterflies in her stomach. What if it was Malfoy? What if it was Colin or even Justin Finch-Fletchley? How could she let them down, knowing she was in love with someone else? As she reached the final step, she looked up to see…

Her breath caught in her throat when she looked at him. He was wearing green robes that matched his eyes perfectly. He hair was unruly as ever, but the smile on his face made her heart flip. “Harry?”

“Happy Valentine's Day, Mione,” he said as he offered her the rose in his hand.

“You… you wrote those letters?”

He looked down and nodded. “I know you probably want to be here with the one you're in love with, but…”

Hermione's fingers came up to mouth, stopping him mid-sentence. “Harry, I…” she looked down, not daring to meet his eyes that were no focused on her. “I never dreamed it was you. I wanted it to be, but I never drea…”

“You wanted it to be me?” he asked unbelievably.

She looked up to see his green eyes sparkling. “Yes, Harry. I wanted it to be you. That's why I couldn't talk to you about it… I'm in love with you and was afraid that you wouldn't feel the same.”

Harry laughed lightly and Hermione joined in. “We're both fools then, aren't we?” he asked.

“I guess so.”

They stood there staring at one another for what seemed lie an eternity. He looked down to see the sapphire necklace and earrings that matched her royal blue dress perfectly. Her hair had been pulled up, with a few curls trailing over her shoulders. “You look beautiful,” he said softly as he reached up to brush her cheek with his knuckles.

“Thank you.”

Harry smiled and offered his arm. “Shall we?”

She mirrored his smile and took his arm for him to guide her into the Hall. When they entered, everyone's eyes seemed to focus on them. Harry looked over to see Ron grinning devilishly beside Luna. Ron winked at his two best friends before continuing to pull his girlfriend out on the dance floor.

A new song started and everyone's focus went back to their partners. Harry turned, pulled Hermione to him and started swaying to the slow song. The two of them danced like they were the only ones in the room. Nothing else mattered, but them. The song slowly came to an end, but Harry and Hermione failed to notice.

“You know what I said in the letter was true,” he whispered in her ear.

“What's that?”

His hand left her waist and lifted her chin so she was looking straight at him. “I love you, Hermione. I'm sorry for everything.”

His thumbs came up and wiped a few of her tears away. “Don't apologize. All that matters is right now and right now I love you, Harry.”

His head dropped and his lips met hers in the briefest of kisses. “I've been wanting to do that for weeks now.”

She smiled. “I've been wanting you to do it for months.” With that he captured her lips more passionately this time.

As they broke apart, Harry pulled her closer to him. He caught Ron's eye and smiled. “Thank you,” Harry mouthed silently. Ron just nodded and danced away. Harry was happy, truly happy for the first time in his life. He was dancing with the woman of his dreams, the woman he loved. He looked down at her, her eyes shining up at him. He saw no pain, no hurting, no fear. For the first time, he saw her true feelings in her eyes… love.

I promise you. I promise you I will…

*

A/N - the song belongs to `When in Rome' and the characters belong to JKR. This plot bunny attacked me one night while listening to my favorite local cover band at a bar. They sing this and it really hit home. I knew I had to use it for Harry and Hermione. It fits so perfectly. I hope you liked it. Please review. Thanks.