Chapter 9: The Truth
A week later, Harry was lying awake in bed, staring up at the ceiling. With the image of Hermione's face in his mind's eye, he smiled sadly and sighed. He hadn't heard a word from her, or Ron, since he'd left their house, and for that he was strangely grateful. He missed them, of course, but he just couldn't deal with the situation he had created; he simply didn't know how to. That's why he'd decided that it was probably best if he get away for a while, maybe have a holiday. Besides, Ron and Hermione's were getting married in a month's time, and Harry felt that he needed time alone before having to face up to the wedding. Having to look happy and perform his duty as Best Man seemed impossible to him.
Suddenly, Harry heard a knock at the door. He bolted upright in his bed, looking at his watch. Seeing that it was two in the morning, his brow crinkled in confusion, as he wondered who on earth would be coming over at this time of night. Quickly pulling on a shirt and grabbing his wand, he made his way down the hallway to the front door. He pulled it open and found himself face to face with a sobbing Hermione.
"Woah," he breathed as she collapsed heavily into his arms without a word. Cradling her against his chest and murmuring soothing words of comfort, he closed the door and led her into the living room. He carefully sat her down in his couch, and tried to move away from her, wanting to get her something to drink. She held tight to him, apparently not wanting to let go. "Okay, don't worry, I won't leave you," he whispered to her, settling himself next to her. She hugged her arms around him, leaning her head against his chest as she continued crying. Harry rubbed his hands consolingly over her back with one hand and caressed her hair with the other, occasionally planting comforting kisses on the top of her head.
Hermione was obviously in no state to talk, so Harry didn't question her. He just sat with her, doing the best he could to make her feel better. But as he sat there, he wondered why she was crying so desperately, and why she had come to him, of all people, at such a late hour.
Half an hour later, the sobbing had stopped, and Hermione's breathing had slowed, returning to normal. Harry looked down and saw that she had fallen asleep. He prised himself out of her arms as delicately as he could, and lay her down on the couch, pulling off her shoes.
He walked quietly into the hallway and went to the closet, pulling out a heavy blanket. Returning, he placed it carefully over her sleeping form and sat down in a chair opposite her. For the longest time he just sat there, watching her sleep. He couldn't believe the sense of calm and contentedness he felt just from watching the rise and fall of her chest, seeing the look of peace and vulnerability on her face. If he could, Harry mused, he'd be happy to watch her sleep for the rest of his life. However, soon enough, his own feelings of fatigue took over.
Harry awoke very peacefully the next morning, feeling as though he hadn't had such a good nights sleep in a long time. He yawned and stretched, briefly wondering why he was sleeping in a chair, before remembering the last night's events. His eyes quickly scanned up to the couch, which he was surprised to see was empty, save for the blanket which was folded and placed neatly on the cushion.
Harry got up, his legs stiff, and began walking to the kitchen. As he had suspected, it was there that he found Hermione, sitting down at the table eating some toast.
"Hey," she said quietly. He realised that despite the fact that her eyes were still a little red and rather puffy, he had never seen anyone as beautiful.
"Hey," he replied, coming to lean against the wall in front of her.
She nodded down to her plate. "I hope you don't mind that I made myself something to eat..."
"Of course not, don't be silly," he interrupted with a wave of his hand. "Feel free to have whatever you want." After an awkward moments silence, he continued. "Uh, Hermione..."
"I know," she said stopping him before he could get a sentence out. She motioned him to sit down next to her. "I'm sorry about last night, Harry. I'm sorry that I woke you up so late, and I'm sorry about the state I was in. I hope I didn't worry you too much?"
"Oh no, not too much," he said smirking.
She laughed. "Alright, point taken, that was a stupid thing to say. God knows if our places had been reversed, I'd have been tearing my hair out in worry."
Harry cleared his throat. "So, uh, if you don't mind me asking..." He stopped and laughed quietly at his awkwardness before holding her gaze and asking tenderly. "Hermione, what's the matter?"
She picked up her plate and walked over to the sink, washing it and placing it back in the cupboard. She finally turned and faced him again. "Last night I... I broke up with Ron," she finished, looking at the floor.
Harry was bewildered. "What?"
She began pacing the kitchen. "I couldn't take it anymore, Harry. Being with him, I was just hurting him, and I didn't want to do it anymore. I couldn't do it anymore. I love Ron, I do. But when he proposed to me, it hit me like a sledgehammer. Suddenly I knew that for the last six years I'd been convincing myself that I was in love with him. But I wasn't. I never was, not really. He was my friend, one of my best friends, and I really tried to love him the way he loved me. But it always felt... wrong. I knew that if I said no, I'd break his heart." She sighed, as tears began to stream slowly down her face. "So I said yes, and since then we've been drifting further and further apart. It's strange, when I ended it, he was sad. But part of him almost seemed relieved, as if a weight had been lifted off his shoulders. It was then that I realised that he knew too. He knew that it wasn't meant to be."
Harry was looking down at the table in shock. He didn't even notice, at first, when Hermione came and sat down next to him again, jumping just a little when he did.
"Harry," she began quietly, searching out his eyes. "When Ron proposed, I knew that I couldn't be with him. I knew because I've always been in love with someone else. I hid it from myself, pretending it wasn't true, because Ron loved me, and I had to love him back. But it became clearer that I just couldn't hide it anymore. Harry," she said, whispering and taking his hand in hers, her eyes glistening. "It's you. It's always been you. I'm in love with you, Harry."
Harry simply couldn't believe what he was hearing. He shook his head, trying, and failing, to make sense of everything. He tried to be rational, though his heart was pounding in his chest at what she had just said. "Hermione, this doesn't make any sense. When I was staying with you, and I told you that I loved you, you ran off. You avoided me. How..."
"You scared me, Harry. I knew, I thought, that there was no chance for us. For a long time now I've been trying to figure out how I could leave Ron because I knew I couldn't lie to him anymore. But it had nothing to do with you. I didn't even imagine for a moment that I'd leave Ron and suddenly you and I would be together. But after we kissed, and you said you loved me, I was terrified. Terrified because I didn't want to hurt Ron anymore than I had to. And terrified because the thought of actually being with you was so wonderful and elusive that it just didn't seem real. I've dreamt about you since we were at school. Suddenly being gifted the opportunity to be with you... I know that if you and I start something, then that's it. There's no going back. I'll love you with everything I am, for the rest of my life. I never had that feeling with Ron, not even for a second. It's a beautiful and scary feeling to know that there's someone more vital to you than the air you breathe."
Harry had to practically physically restrain himself from screaming out of pure joy. He managed to, however, and pulled Hermione up out of her seat and held her tightly against him. "I know that feeling too, Hermione."
He pulled back and saw that she was smiling up at him, tears streaming down her face. He put his hand to her cheek, and she kissed his palm. "I love you, Hermione."
"I love you, Harry."
He leant forward, and spoke against her lips. "Well, I guess that's it then."