No One Knows

Her head rested on his lap and his hands idly played with the strands of her hair. The firelight danced upon their skin as the atmosphere surrounding them was peaceful and comfortable. Her head stirred a bit and his hands paused momentarily as the clock chimed three times, signaling the lateness of the night, or rather, the earliness of the morning.

It had been like this for quite some time. Their times alone were pretty much all they had, and it was always very late at night (or very early in the morning). They hadn’t told anyone, not even Ron, and it seemed that it was going to stay this way… at least for a while longer.

Hermione’s head shifted in his lap and she stared up into his face. He smiled down at her, bending down to give a peck upon her forehead. She smiled again as he rose back up into his sitting position. She raised a hand to his face and his own hand immediately sought hers and held it up to his cheek.

Her smile grew. How she enjoyed being with him so much… loving him this way, in a more than friends manner… the only drawback was that she could only do it when they were completely alone.

“What’s wrong?” he murmured, his thumb caressing the back of her hand.

She sighed, tearing her eyes away from his and choosing instead to focus on the ceiling. “It’s nothing… really…” she replied.

He kissed her palm. “I know you better than that,” he stated.

Hermione forced her eyes to meet his once more. Taking a deep breath, she finally voiced what had been plaguing her the whole night… and other nights as well.

“Harry, when are we gonna tell someone?” she asked.

He went intensely silent. He let go of her hand and she let it drop listlessly back onto her stomach. He sighed and shook his head slightly, breaking eye contact with her.

“Hermione…” he started.

“Harry, no,” she interrupted, sitting up quickly. “I’m getting tired of all this hiding! I have to act completely normal around you every single day when all I want is to have the freedom to kiss you or just hold your hand, even! I’m also tired of hiding all of this from Ron. He’s our best friend, and he has the right to know about us…”

Harry hunched over, resting his elbows upon his knees and staring into the fire in pensive silence. After a moment that felt like an eternity, he said, “I don’t want everyone to know about us, Hermione.”

“But Harry!” she exclaimed, laying a hand onto his arm. “Don’t you want to come out publicly? I mean… I love you… and I want the world to know that!”

Harry got up, giving an aggravated sigh. “Hermione, I know! I love you, too, you know that! I love you so much that I would do anything for you! I would, I seriously would!” He dropped down onto his knees in front of Hermione who was still sitting on the couch, hugging one of the throw pillows. “But it’s just this one thing. Voldemort is still out there, and if he found out how much you meant to me, he’d—“ Harry gulped deeply. He took a hold of her hands and stared down at them, whispering as if to himself. “I can’t lose you, too…”

Tears were beginning to form in Hermione’s eyes. They had had numerous conversations like this, but no matter how many times they had talked about it, it always came down to the same thing. They loved each other dearly and sorely wanted everyone to know… but Harry was scared…

So many times he had been robbed of the ones he loved… Hermione had to respect his wishes to keep her safe. At this point, it felt like it was all she could do for him.

He kissed her fingers softly, looking affectionately at her face, his green eyes simply shining. “I promise you, Hermione Granger, that… that when this whole Voldemort business is done, we’ll let the world know.”

A few tears leaked out, but Hermione smiled at his promise nonetheless.

The future was uncertain about whether the “Voldemort business” would really end, but Hermione was holding on to Harry’s word. For now, the least she could do was hold on to her own promise of keeping everything secret.

* * *

The day he disappeared was sheer hell for her.

The last conversation they had had consisted of very quick goodbyes. He was off to fight… alone.

She desperately wanted to go with him, but he and the rest of the Order would have none of it. She didn’t undergo all the special training he had, therefore she wouldn’t be safe in the territory he was going to. She cried freely when he left and Ron hugged her tight, telling her that he would come back.

“I’ll miss him, Ron!” I’ll miss his kisses. “I’m just so worried about him all the time!” I love him so much, it hurts.

“Shh… it’s okay, Hermione. He’ll come back. He’ll defeat You-Know-Who and he’ll come back and we’ll all be happy…”

* * *

The days seemed to all melt into one big blur.

She did not go one day without paying a visit to Dumbledore’s office for news on Harry’s whereabouts… at least, attempted to pay a visit, for Dumbledore was not always there, or he just did not let people in at times. Either way, Hermione wanted to know what was going on to every last detail and it just frustrated her when she knew that the grown-ups were holding things back.

A few times Ron had to remind her that she had to eat something. Knowing that Harry was in danger and not in a safe distance made her numb and immune to feeling practically anything at all. Many nights she tossed and turned, having vivid dreams and waking up in the middle of the night to glance out the window. There was always that sliver of hope that she may see his silhouette arriving on the castle grounds… but her heart was always disappointed.

Through all this, Hermione did not tell a soul the relationship she shared with Harry. He had promised her that everyone would know about them when he came back, and she trusted him.

She trusted him to come back.

“You’ve got to sleep, Hermione,” Ron told her one evening when he caught her staring longingly out the window of the Common Room. The windowsill had become Hermione’s permanent spot during the days of Harry’s absence. Upon entering the Common Room, whether with a book or Crookshanks in her arms, she would sit and wait. She would just wait…

It was a maddening experience on Ron’s behalf. He worried about her constantly as she forgot to eat at times and she had become somewhat of an anti-social. And now, her hours at the windowsill grew as she took to staying up at night there. Many a night Ron had found her, dozing with her head pressed upon the glass. When he tried to coax her awake and support her to bring her to her room, she refused and all he could really do was offer her a blanket.

“No… I can’t… I’m waiting…” she replied, fighting back a yawn.

“But this isn’t healthy!”

“But I’m waiting…”

* * *

Her cries pierced his heart.

Watching her form just crumple up and fall to the floor was horrific and in no time, Ron was on the floor with her, hugging her trembling and sobbing body. For a few seconds, her fists pounded into his arms viciously as she refused to be touched, but it didn’t take long for her to completely lose it and become as limp as a rag doll.

Her tears soaked his shirt, yet his own were probably soaking hers as well.

News came.

Voldemort was gone. He was gone from the world and the future was brighter.

But along with such a blessing came such a sacrifice.

Harry had gone with him, using his last bout of magic to finish him off. It wasn’t until the very end when he took his final breath.

Upon hearing it, Hermione swears that she died right along with him. There was no floor, there was no ceiling… she couldn’t keep her balance anymore and everything in the room just became a giant swirl of colour. Feeling dizzy and nauseous, she fell to the ground in an ungraceful heap, her body succumbing to powerful sadness. She soon felt a pair of strong arms encircle her frame but she batted them away, furious that they weren’t his… they weren’t his arms that were hugging her and comforting her.

But she just didn’t have any energy anymore… she was tired…

“We were able to save his body,” a distant voice said, pounding into her ears through all the haze. “He’s… he’s lying in the hospital wing right now…”

No more tears fell. It felt like she didn’t have any anymore. Instead, a hollow hole formed in her heart and every breath she took felt painful. Why was she alive and he wasn’t? Why was she still here when he had been so cruelly taken from her?

She trusted him…yet he had trusted her…

She took a hold of his cold hand, shivering at its lack of warmth. Placing a kiss on his knuckles for one final time, she closed her eyes and whispered into the air.

“No one knows, Harry,” she said. “I didn’t tell anyone, like I promised.”

She let his hand fall back onto his chest. The room itself had gone cold. Hermione swiftly got up and walked out.

No one knows that I love you.