Something Unreachable

Disclaimer: This story is based on characters and situations created and owned by JK Rowling, various publishers including but not limited to Bloomsbury Books, Scholastic Books and Raincoast Books, and Warner Bros., Inc. No money is being made and no copyright or trademark infringement is intended. I do not own Sarah McLachlan's song “Fear”.

Author's note: I hope you all enjoy. I'm rather new here and am interested in seeing what others think of my writing. Please let me know! Thanks in advance!

Morning smiles

like the face

of a newborn child

innocent unknowing.

Winter's end

promises

of a long lost friend.

Speaks to me of comfort

but I fear

I have nothing to give.

I have so much

to lose here in this lonely place.

Tangled up in your embrace

there's nothing I'd like better than

to fall.

but I fear

I have nothing to give.

****

Love is something I always wanted.

But I never really strived for it.

To me, it was an unachievable goal, a dream.

A lie.

I didn't think anyone would ever be able to truly love me, for who I was, for what I stood for.

But then again, that was before she entered my life.

When I first met her, I thought her to be a bossy know-it-all, a stranger, a person who always had me thinking about what the hell she was doing in my life. Then, the years progressed, and I was suddenly forced to grow up, and mature. I realized she was more then just a know-it-all. She was smart, wise, and.... a true friend.

I could go to her for anything. Tell her what I dreamed of for my future. And sometimes, in rare moments, she would hold me if I had tears that needed to be shed, and I was always there to do the same.

But then life progressed again, and we were abruptly thrown out of the sacred, protected halls of school, into the hard cruel world. Reality hit us like a snowball, and soon we were both racing to keep up with it. It just moved too fast.

Life progressed quickly, as did our relationship. We would still talk about our dreams, yes, but now they took on a more realistic approach. And it was then that I began to truly notice how things between us had changed.

I think it happened the one night I came over to her flat, and we opened a bottle of vintage wine. She told me of how she had been thinking a lot about marriage, of the man she was going to love.

And then she looked at me, with this sudden, knowing gleam in her eye.

It was so unnerving, that I was uncomfortable for the rest of the evening. When it came time for me to leave, I attempted to rush out, claiming a severe headache. As I turned to walk out the door, she grabbed a hold of my coat, and that same gleam entered her eye again.

“Harry...”she started, averting her eyes suspiciously. “I've been meaning to tell you this for sometime..." she cleared her throat, and brought her eyes back up once more to meet mine. "I think...I think I'm in love with you.”

I stood there, sweat beginning to run down my forehead, while she stood there patiently waiting for a response from me. Unfortunately, I didn't have one.

So, I left.

In the blink of an eye, I was gone. Down the stairs of her apartment building, out onto the street where I Apparated to my own warm, cozy flat, which suddenly felt more like a prison, a place where I could hide from the world.

I think she was still standing there, waiting.

I avoided her owls, didn't return her phone calls for two long weeks. Then, Ron told me Hermione had gone to him, and tried to talk to him about me. He told me I should talk to her.

But I couldn't bring myself too.

Finally, it became too much for her. She Apparated to my flat, tears glistening in those wide brown eyes. She demanded to know why I hadn't so much as acknowledged her presence for two weeks, and why it was so hard for me to admit that I felt the same way as her.

I felt anger and bile rise within me, that which of I had never known before. Who was she to call the shots, to tell me how I should feel? What right of that was hers?

I screamed back at her telling, her I didn't feel anything at all for her, that she was wrong in all of her assumptions. I let her know that I was the one who was in charge of my life, not her.

I screamed that, and so many other things that I can't recall. When it was all said and done, she just stared at me, an expression of shock on her face. She then started to sob, a horrible sound, and she faded away, to where, I don't know.

I stood alone in my now empty living room, staring at everything, and seeing nothing. The sudden feeling of guilt crept up on me, and it was then that I started to think.

As the time ticked slowly away, I began to think that I might in fact be in love with her. But how could that be possible? I had known her longer then I knew myself.

Then, I realized, like a breath of fresh morning air.

To me, love had always been something unreachable, something that I thought I would never be able to do, that one thing that was just beyond my grasp.

I had convinced myself to a fault that I was not capable of love, and therefore, no one would ever be able to love me.

But she had.

Through all my stupid mistakes, and sentimental moments. She had done what I thought was the impossible.

She had loved me.

And now, that love had begun to wake within her, and she was just now aware of her emotions.

It had been there for so long; just biding its time.

And the only thing standing in love's way was me.

Because I was scared.

Tears cascaded down my cheeks at the sudden wave of emotion I was experiencing. The only reason I had run from her was because I was scared.

I was scared that I might do something to screw our friendship up. I was scared that loving her would change everything, and I would say or do something to lose that companionship.

I was scared of love.

I decided then and there, I had to right what I had made wrong. That would mean having to go to her, and face this new emotion, known as love, straight in the eye. I just hoped and prayed she could forgive me.

I Apparated out of my flat so fast, to hers, that I was dizzy. It didn't take me very long to realize that she wasn't there. I guessed she had gone to her mother or Ginny for some sort of solace.

I sat down on her couch, and waited.

About half an hour later, the jingle of keys was heard, and she stepped into the living room. I immediately felt more ashamed then I ever had in my entire life. She looked horrible. Her eyes were bright red and puffy, her hair much more bushier then usual. She looked up and saw me, and stared, much like she had done at my place only sacred hours before.

I stood up from the couch, and walked over to her, so I was standing directly in front of her. I brushed some of her hair back behind her ear, and she flinched, as if in pain. I could see tears already beginning to well up in her eyes. Cautiously, I cleared my throat and started to speak.

“I'm sorry I behaved like that Hermione,” I whispered. “It's just... I didn't know how to react. I've never had anyone love me like that before"-a sob escaped me, "and I was scared.”

I couldn't speak anymore; the feeling was just too overwhelming. I looked into her eyes, and felt my own widen in surprise.

Forgiveness was reflected in those warm brown eyes, soaked with tears.

Still in shock at her compassion, I didn't notice her hand on my wet cheek, until she began to talk.

“It's okay, Harry,” she said softly, resting her left hand on my other cheek, cradling my face. Then she said those magic words; “I forgive you.”

I then lowered my lips to hers, and crushed them in a searing kiss. I could taste the salt of her tears, and I felt mine mingling with her own. She let out a quiet moan, and opened her mouth. I took advantage of the opportunity, entering it.

When we finally pulled back, we were out of breath, and I was crushing her to my chest. She smiled up at me for the first time in what felt like forever.

“Are you still scared?” she asked, her arms looping themselves around my neck.

I shook my head, because I once again couldn't speak. A ball had wedged itself in my throat. She just looked beautiful standing there, with her bated breath, lips swollen from my kisses. I just couldn't help but stare at her. Eventually, I managed to form a few words. They weren't much, but they came from the heart.

“I've reached the unreachable,” I laughed at her confused face, resting my forehead against hers. I lowered my voice to a mere whisper, and became suddenly serious. “You showed me I was capable of love,” here I stroked her hair, “and you did what I thought was impossible."

She looked shocked again, but soon it was replaced with another smile.

“I always knew you were, Harry. I saw it everyday, whether it be in your smile, or in your eyes.” She wiped away some of my now new forming tears. “I love you.”

I said the same back, and she brought her face up to meet my lips again once more.

I suddenly felt more alive then I ever had in my entire life. Someone had managed to love me, and I loved them in return.

And my soul was finally allowed to fly.

Now, as I stare at her next to me in bed, I know she'll be with me forever. I can see her now, on our wedding day, her stomach swelling with our children.

All of this makes sense in some weird way, as I close my eyes to sleep.

After all, we had reached the unreachable together.