Chapter 7: The Confession
The next day, Monday, was a very strange day for Harry. It seemed to pass by with the speed of light, and yet also went so nauseatingly slow that Harry didn't think he could stand another minute. He supposed it seemed this way because his feelings were likewise conflicting. On one hand, he so desperately wanted the clock to stop, for it to eternally remain Monday so that he would never have to face the next day. Yet part of him wanted Tuesday so desperately, he thought he would explode if he had to live through another moment on that Monday.
He was terrified of seeing Hermione the next day and facing her after their last meeting. He was terrified of staying alone with her at her house. But mostly he was terrified of the confession he knew he had to make, and of what her reaction would be.
But now, Harry lay in bed awaiting the dawn of the new day in nervous anticipation. He was beginning to be glad that he was seeing Hermione so soon. Even if the next day turned out to be amongst the worst in his life, he needed it to be over. He needed to know where he stood. He needed it to be five o'clock in the afternoon. Harry groaned as he remembered that whilst living through Monday had been torture, he still had to endure the next day at work, something he was sure would be positively unbearable.
Harry rolled over, determined not to think about the coming day, and to actually get some sleep. Several restless hours later, he finally did.
~~~~
As Harry had feared, the next day at work passed incredibly slowly. He seemed to hardly be aware of anything going on around him, his brilliant green eyes often appearing vacant as he slipped back into his thoughts of what the afternoon would bring.
When five o'clock finally did arrive, it caught Harry very much by surprise, despite the fact that he had been checking his watch every fifteen minutes throughout day.
After taking a moment to ready himself, Harry apparated away from the office, and found himself once again staring up at 7 Trafford Lane.
"It's now or never," he said to himself, wondering how a coward such as he could have placed in Gryffindor.
He walked cautiously up the porch steps and stared at the door only for a moment before knocking twice.
"Just a minute!" a voice called out to him.
Within moments, the front door was opened widely, and Hermione, red and breathing heavily, appeared at the door.
"Harry," she said quietly, looking deep into his eyes and fixing him with an unreadable gaze. She stepped out of the doorway to let him through.
"Hello, Hermione," Harry said, resting his bag on the floor. Hermione then, after only a moment's hesitation, reached out for Harry and took him in her arms. Harry tensed up, momentarily surprised, before embracing her back.
He cleared his throat as Hermione let him go. "I got your note," he began, avoiding her gaze. "You said we have to talk, and we do..."
"Shh," she cut him off with a slow shake of her head and an almost sad smile. "Not yet. Come on, bring your bag and I'll take you up to your room."
Harry followed her up the stairs and down to the end of the corridor, where the spare room sat just opposite the master bedroom. Hermione walked in and stood in front of the window as Harry put his bag on the floor by the bed. Hermione then turned around to face him.
"Harry, I..." she paused, and seemed to wonder how to proceed. She caught his eye and smiled shyly. "Thank you. Thank you for coming to stay with me."
He returned her smile. "You're welcome, Hermione."
~~~~
The rest of the afternoon passed by much better than Harry had expected. Both he and Hermione seemed to be in silent agreement not to mention either Ron or the kiss they had shared just two nights earlier. And for the first time in a long time, Harry wasn't worrying about anything. He was just enjoying being with her. Harry loved that both of them could be freer and more at home in each other's company than with anyone else. They had always had that special bond with each other that not even Ron could compete with.
They didn't even think about what was in the back of both of their minds. In fact, they avoided it entirely all that night, and the next. It was only after dinner on Harry's third night staying with Hermione that they dared mention what neither really wanted to.
They made their way outside to sit on the porch, Harry's mind racing when forced to confront the place where their last, dramatic rendezvous had occurred.
This time, when Hermione went to sit on the bench, Harry decided not to follow her lead, and hung back by the railing. She noticed his apparent discomfort, and looked up at him sadly.
"You know, Harry, you can sit next to me."
Harry looked at his feet. "I know. I just don't feel like sitting, honestly."
"Okay. So..." Hermione begun awkwardly, as they both wondered who would be the first to broach the subject they had avoided successfully thus far.
"So..." Harry returned helpfully.
She threw her hands in the air. "Harry, this is ridiculous. We're not kids anymore. And even when we were, we never had trouble talking to each other. Why are we making this so difficult?"
"Because, Hermione, it's... complicated. You're right, we're not kids anymore, so some things aren't as easy to talk about now."
"Can't you try?" she asked almost pleadingly.
Harry sighed, trying to psyche himself up, knowing that he couldn't hide himself from her any longer. "Okay, Hermione, okay." He looked around helplessly, until his gaze finally rested on Hermione's face. The sight seemed to give him strength as he relaxed and allowed his heart to take over. "You're so beautiful, you know," Harry whispered softly, causing Hermione to blush deeply. "You really are. I've never seen anyone as beautiful as you. But the really amazing thing is that as beautiful as you are on the outside, it's really nothing compared to how beautiful you are as a person, on the inside. You've got such a wonderful, kind heart. I meant what I said the other... that night, when we were last here. You're the only person who has ever truly been there for me, and who has loved me so much, without expectation or question. I don't know anyone like you, Hermione. Everything that you are..." Harry faltered, his eyes shimmering as he was so close to saying the very thing that he had wanted to for so many years. Hermione, for her part, seemed to be waiting with bated breath for him to continue.
Harry moved from his position by the railing, and finally sat down next to her. He smiled softly before continuing. "Hermione, I'm in love with you."
Harry waited a moment, breathing deeply, to see how she would react.
Her face seemed to contain a cocktail of emotions; shock, fear, surprise, disbelief. Finally, she spoke, seemingly incredulous. "What?"
Harry looked briefly at his hands, clasped together in his lap, before recapturing her gaze. "I'm in love with you." He stood once more, suddenly feeling guilty again. "I know that I shouldn't feel this way. And I know I probably shouldn't have told you. But I just had to, Hermione. It's been driving me crazy for years now..."
"Years?" she questioned shrilly. "How long have you known?"
Harry shrugged. "Since you and Ron got together? Since you kissed me on the cheek at the end of our fourth year? Since you were the only one who believed me after my name came out of the Goblet of Fire?" He caught her gaze once more. "Since we met? I don't know, I really don't. But the strangest thing is that now I can't remember ever not loving you, even when I didn't know it. Hermione, my whole life I've felt so lost and isolated, not knowing who or what I was, not knowing why I was famous or what I was meant to do. But when I'm with you... you feel like home to me. Like the only real home I've ever known. When I'm with you, I feel accepted, and safe, and loved. You're where I belong, even if you don't belong with me." Harry looked sadly across at Hermione, whose mouth was open in shock. "I'm not expecting anything of you, Hermione. I'm not asking anything of you. I just... please, say something. You're the most important thing in my life. I don't expect you to feel the same, I know that you don't. But I couldn't bare it if I lost you as my friend." He looked at her, pleading. "Please, say something."
Hermione shook her head, seeming to come out of a trance. She closed her mouth and stared at the ground, with her eyes wide. "I... I..." And then before Harry knew what was happening, she had flung open the front door and sprinted inside the house, and up the stairs.
Harry stared after her. All at once the vast range emotions he had been feeling caught up with him, and he began to cry softly. He made his way blindly over to the bench and sat down, putting his head in his hands and succumbing to the sobs that were bursting from him. "What have I done?"