Authors Note:
Thank you for the lovely reviews, for those who reviewed. Unfortunately, with me getting used to the new reply to review system, I tried to reply to some and ended up deleting them! But please don't be discouraged from reviewing. I won't play with the reviews thing again. J
Anyway, onward!
* * * *
At last Harry packed the last piece of parchment into his already full trunk and struggled to close it. Finally, he managed to get it tightly shut, and sank back onto his bed in exhaustion. Looking over to his clock he noticed that he only had about thirty more minutes until Ron arrived. With a sigh, he turned his flushed face up to the ceiling and closed his deep green eyes, running a pale hand under his glasses and over his tired eyes. He hadn't really been sleeping well since he'd got home from Hogwarts, his night time thoughts were plagued with pictures of the events of that day, he dwelled on things that could have been different, and would have been, if it weren't for him.
There came a sharp tapping sound that broke Harry's train of thought contemptuously, and as he opened his eyes, the bright light of the sun burned tiny little dots into his eyes. Blinking from the sudden burst of light to his eyes he looked to the window. Hedwig was just outside the window, dancing about with a scroll of parchment in her beak, her opal white feathers fluttering gracefully in the cool summer breeze. Immediately he crossed the room and opened the window tentatively. He knew Hedwig had a temper when kept waiting.
Removing the parchment from her beak with a grateful stroke on her wing, Harry carried it over to his bed and flopped down on it, the old mattress pinging where he'd broken a few springs. Ignoring this, he opened the scroll and read Hermione's neat handwriting.
Hiya Harry,
Thank you so much for your advice on Ron, I think that was a very tactful way of putting it. Thank you. I feel totally awful for doing it, but like you said, he'll understand… right?
Anyways, in reply to your letter; Of course I know you! You think I've followed you and Ron around for 4 and a half years and picked up nothing? I'd like to think you know me too. I knew you'd blame yourself for what happened in London, you're always taking blame for things that aren't your fault, it's the way you are. Maybe yes, you should have studied Occlumency, and yes it wasn't very nice you having a go at us most of the year, but I know you had a lot on your mind. You seemed half out of it most of the time, and very stressed out. I know I would be too if half the population of the wizarding world thought I was a attention seeking nutter. But it wasn't very nice you know, you having a go at us, I was quite upset when you did. I don't like it when you're angry with me. Unlike Ron, who has a go at me nearly every week, you hardly ever get angry with me, and when you do, it's with good reason, and it upsets me.
So, what exactly did Ron tell you in his letter? Did he tell you that was going to ask me out? Because you know, I could have done with some warning… It was quite a shock. No matter what you two might say, I know very well I'm no Fleur Delacour or Cho Chang. I mean, you two have to say things like that, don't you? You're my best friends. You're very sweet though, Harry, wrong, but sweet.
Well, I hope you have fun at Ron's this week, I'm not going there until next week, my mum wants me to stay a while, plus I don't really think I could be up to staying with Ron yet. I have the feeling that it might be a bit awkward. I'm glad you promised me that you wouldn't think too much. I trust you enough to not break your promise.
Write back if you can, If not, then I'll see you next week!
Love,
Hermione xx
'Two kisses…' thought Harry with a absent-minded smile.
Looking across to his clock, he saw that he now only had quarter of an hour until Ron was scheduled to come and pick him up. However, with Harry's past experiences and knowledge of Ron and his family, it was more likely than not that they were going to be a little bit late. So he figured he would have time to reply to Hermione before he left.
Opening his very full trunk again, the lid sprang open with the mass of clothes and books that were piled into it. Digging deep down, he quickly found his quill and some ink, and a spare bit of parchment. He closed his trunk again with some difficulty, then sat next to it, out of breath from his efforts, with the parchment on his lap. Wiping the damp hair out of his eyes, he swiftly snatched up his quill and rapidly began to write.
Hi, Hermione,
I'm just about to go to Ron's, but knowing him, he'll more than likely be late, so I thought I'd reply to you now.
Anyways, I'd like to think I know you too, but I'm sure there's a lot of things I don't. I should really, seeing as though you're my best friend and all. I'll have to ask you sometime. I'd like to find out more about you.
And I'm really, really sorry if I upset you last year, that's the last thing I wanted to do. I don't think I was in my right mind for most of the year, If I was I probably wouldn't have shouted at you. I don't like being angry with you either, and I can't, not really, not for very long. It's very hard to be angry at you, Hermione. You're too logical, and too right all the time. You make sense, and it's mostly me who doesn't. Tell you what, If I ever have a go at you again, you have my permission to hit me, or slap me or whatever. Actually, no… don't slap me… I saw what you did to Malfoy in third year, that really did look like it hurt. To be honest, I'm quite proud of you for that, I only wish I could have followed your example last year at that Quidditch match.
Okay… Ron's letter. Well, he didn't tell me until he'd actually asked you, so I couldn't really give you any warning, but if I could have, I would. I know it must be kind of shocking to have your best friend just spring something like that on you. But believe me, Ron and I don't say those things because we're you're best friend. I told you already, I can't lie to you. And to be honest, I wouldn't want you to be Cho. I'd prefer a happy best friend, not someone who cries all the time. I'm not good with crying girls, the last one kissed me… but believe me, Hermione, you are attractive, okay? Don't put yourself down.
From downstairs, the sound of many voices shouting carried up to Harry's room. He recognised the loudest as Uncle Vernon's, yet he could hear Mr. Weasley's friendly tone and Tonks's cheery voice amidst all the screaming coming from Aunt Petunia. With a sigh, Harry turned to finish his letter.
Well, I'd better go, I hear screaming and shouting downstairs which means Ron's probably here. Write back!
Love,
Harry
With a tentative look over to Hermione's letter, he spotted with a small smile that she had added two little 'x' s to the end of her letter. Harry thought it only polite to do the same.
As soon as he added the last little 'x', Ron burst unceremoniously into the room followed by the twins, both looking very well off with their new Dragon skin jackets and what looked like Leather Boots. They filled Harry's room with a great deal of noise, greeting Harry raucously and walking over to slap him on the back in a friendly way. Harry grinned at them with a quiet 'Hello' as George and Ron took positions on either side of his trunk. As he was about to fold up his letter however, Fred peered over his shoulder at it suspiciously, and let out a low whistle.
"Two kisses, eh, Harry? Who's the lucky girl?"
Harry felt his face flush as he quickly rolled up the parchment, as to keep Hermione's name well out of sight. He knew Ron would definitely not approve, and he couldn't imagine the flagrant embarrassment if Fred and George found out he was writing to Hermione. Quickly, he crossed the room and tied the parchment to Hedwig's leg, refusing to look at Ron.
"No one, just a friend, that's all. There's no lucky girl…"
"Uh huh," said George, with a friendly wink at Harry. "And Percy does drugs on a Saturday."
They all laughed heartily as they heaved Harry's belonging's downstairs. As Harry reached the Living Room, he got a strong feeling of déjà vu, as half the living room was blown away and the source of the wreckage seemed to be the fireplace. The pictures on the walls were tilted, ornaments were knocked over on shelves and everything was covered in dust, even the quaking Dursleys who seemed to have temporarily gone dumb. Harry thought it was quite strange for Uncle Vernon to stand back and watch their living room become a junk yard, until he saw Mad-Eye Moody standing directly opposite him, his arms folded in a very intimidating manner, his magical eye rolling around sinisterly. Uncle Vernon was in for a few more nightmares tonight.
* * * *
Hours later, when Harry had been welcomed by each member of the Order and the Weasley family (even a very red and pompous Percy) and they had all been gleefully subjected to Mrs. Weasley's wonderful cooking, he and Ron traipsed wearily up to their room, their bellies full and their eyes heavy.
As Harry settled himself into the squishy four poster, he noticed Ron for the first time that night looking very off about something. His eyes seemed to stare fixedly at the floor, and Harry noticed that his ears had gone very red. Not a good Weasley sign.
"Ron, is there something wrong?"
It seemed Ron had been waiting for Harry to ask him this, as he looked up at Harry forlornly, then turned to his bedside table and picked up a long piece of parchment. Slowly, he handed it to Harry with a disdainful grunt.
"I got Hermione's reply."
Harry took the parchment and read the respective paragraph.
About that… you know, Ron, I don't think it would work out between us. As much as it really hurts me to say this, because you're my best friend, and I really want to say what will make you happy, I can't. I love you to bits as my best friend, but nothing more. I'm sorry. It's just that, I'm afraid I'm in love with someone else--
With this little bit of information, Harry's stomach gave an uncomfortable jolt, for what reason, he didn't know. So what if Hermione loved someone else, as long as she remained his best friend, she could love someone else, couldn't she?
-- and I'm afraid that it wouldn't be fair if I went out with you while I still love this person. It wouldn't be fair on you or me. I hope you understand, I don't want us to not be friends. Please forgive me, Ron.
Love
Hermione.
As Harry handed back the parchment, he noted, with a tiny jolt in the centre of his stomach, that she hadn't added her 'x' to Ron's letter. Was it only Harry's letter she did that with?
He looked up at Ron sympathetically, and he felt a weighing guilt in the back of his head. He shouldn't be pleased that he got a 'x' on the end of his letter and Ron didn't. Ron was the one who told her how beautiful she really was, and how he really liked her. 'Wait… beautiful?' Harry did a double take.
"You know," Ron's voice stopped him from continuing his double take. "I think I know who it is she loves. If it is who I'm thinking of, it'll be a real kick in the teeth, but…"
With that, he slid dejectedly into his Chudley Cannon bedspread and turned away from Harry, who could see the tips of his ears glowing crimson. Harry waited, wishing Ron would elaborate, but when Ron stayed silent, he gave up and slid back into his own sleeping bag, his heart heavier than it was when he got up that morning.