Disclaimer: The series isn't mine. It belongs to J.K. Rowling and other related companies. Only the fic belongs to me.
Author's Note: A plot bunny gone awry. Much thanks to Romy for giving me this plot bunny during one of our chats, and to Christine for helping me when I needed it (not only with this story). Here's my present for you, Tine. Happy birthday!
And endless thanks to Jennifer for so wonderfully working her beta magic on this. You're the best. (And not just for betaing this, either.)
Plot: Harry can't stand love after OOTP. Hermione consoles him. Kinda. (Well, more than kinda.)
- - - -
The first thing Hermione noticed that morning after she arrived at the Gryffindor table was that Harry wasn't there. It was more than that, though - Ron was sitting, looking sullen and put out. She wondered what in the world could have happened. Her best guess was that something had transpired between Ron and Harry. She bit her lip and sat down, careful not to disturb Ron. Her mind filled with thoughts and ways to get him to snap out of this. She didn't have to bother - Ron spoke up at that moment. Their conversation was blurred in her mind now; the only thing she remembered that it was about Harry. Harry and a lot of anger. Hermione guessed the reason why her other best friend wasn't there at the breakfast table, and politely excusing herself, she left Ron (who was now calming down, thanks to Luna) and ran as fast as she could to Harry.
She found him by the lake, staring out at the water, a thoughtful look on his face. Hermione knew better than to disturb him, so she just watched him quietly, not saying a word. After a moment Harry spoke. "Have you ever felt pain? A sharp pain that never leaves, that tears you apart?"
She didn't answer. He went on. "Funny, even a year and a half later, I still can't get her out of my head. It's like she wants me to never forget her, so she stays in my mind."
Hermione still didn't say anything. She just let him speak. "And what's even funnier is that I can't stop myself from thinking about her, either. I don't feel anything for her anymore, so why am I still thinking about her?" He lapsed into silence.
"You know you can talk, Hermione."
That made her smile slightly. "Well, there's nothing for me to say," she said, walking over and plopping herself down by him. "You already know everything."
A laugh rang out from Harry's throat. "So we're even. I know everything and you know everything." He smiled slightly. "We're the Knowledgeable Ones."
"Yes, impressing everyone with our so called superior knowledge," Hermione couldn't help saying. That made Harry laugh.
Hermione looked at him. What a sight he made then, shining green eyes lit up with laughter, mouth pursed in a wide grin. This was the first time Hermione had ever seen him truly happy - and all because of her! She smiled; she was glad that he was happy. Harry needed some happiness in his life.
His laughs slowly died and the thoughtful look returned to his face. The twinkling light in his eyes faded. All was silent again. Somehow she was glad for it. She liked silence. There was nothing like solitude.
"You know, Harry, I think the reason why she won't leave you alone is because maybe you haven't," Hermione swallowed, "completely gotten over her yet."
"Or maybe she's just purposely trying to be unforgettable," Harry said offhandedly, his voice growing irritated. "Which isn't working."
Obviously, Hermione thought. Otherwise he wouldn't be irate. She didn't trust herself to talk. It was better to listen.
"Are you mad, Harry?" she asked carefully. Well, isn't that blazingly obvious. That was his cue to say anything.
He looked at her, an unreadable look on his face. "What do you think, Hermione?" He sighed. "I don't know. I'm not mad, nor am I afraid. It's just something I can't really explain."
"It's because of everything, isn't it?" Hermione asked, already knowing his answer. "I guess you're just coming to grips with all that's happened. All this stuff spiraling out of control, and you have to deal with it all."
He laughed slightly. " 'It all' is a bit of an understatement, Hermione."
"You know what I mean," she shook her head in amusement.
This time he laughed bitterly. "Maybe it is that, Hermione. Maybe she just won't let go of me." Harry sighed heavily. "I want her to let me go, and I want to let her go, but she's not going to let that happen. She'll rather have me suffer over her. Doesn't she wish."
"You're over her?" Hermione asked before she could stop herself. She bit her lip. "Oh, I'm sorry for asking - I shouldn't have even -"
She was cut off by Harry, who only shook his head. "It's okay, Hermione. I am completely over her . . it's just . . ." he stopped. "Dating her taught me something. I can't ever rely on love. That's actually what's troubling me." He looked at her. "It's funny that my parents saved me because of their love for me, yet love destroyed them in the end." He breathed out slowly.
Hermione's eyes flashed at this. "No, they did not. It was Voldemort who destroyed them, you know that. He's the one who caused their death to happen the way it did. It's not because of their love for you. And if you say that you're to blame since they loved you and because of that you caused them to die, you know what I'm going to do, Harry."
"You wouldn't." Shock was evident. "Please don't."
"You know I will. Don't you ever say that again, because it's not true. Stop yourself from believing things that aren't true, no matter how much you think that everything is your fault. Which it isn't."
A sigh. "Hermione, if it wasn't for me . ." he paused. "Everything wouldn't have happened the way it did."
She resisted the urge to shake him, or better yet, slap him. "You didn't cause all that to happen. Harry, you didn't help anything happen, either. It's because of love that you were saved. Love didn't destroy your parents or your life. It was hate that drove them to their deaths. Voldemort's hatred."
"Love saved me?" Harry raised an eyebrow.
"Yes. You see it too, but you're just too stubborn to admit it. Your parents' love saved you from dying, and Voldemort's hate caused them to die. Love and hate are dueling emotions. You can use one against the other, but only one of them is weak. It manifests itself into the hearts of people, wanting them to not love. To just hate for no reason sometimes. Hate feeds itself off from jealousy and pride. And you know you can use love against him, since it's love that he hates the most."
"Love? Pah! Why would I use it?" He scoffed. "It's useless. It brings nothing but pain and misery. It cares about no one but itself. I hate love. It failed me when I needed it most."
She looked at him hopelessly. "Will you ever believe in love again, when it's right in front of your eyes?" she asked herself quietly, not knowing he heard her.
Harry stilled. He ceased to breathe. Had he heard what he had just heard? Or was he now qualified for the loony bin? He didn't know what to make of it . . yet it all made sense to him. Suddenly.
Yes, he was qualified for the loony bin. He wasn't supposed to think of his best friend like that! Oh, wait . . supposed to . . .
Just like I'm supposed to save the universe and mankind.
The answer to all his remnants of thought concerning Cho and what they supposedly had and what he and Hermione really had was at his fingertips. Now if only he could snatch it.
Which he did.
He closed his eyes and left his thoughts drift. He wasn't sure what to make of this. Maybe he just had to let it go, let it happen. Not analyze or fret over it as if something was wrong with it.
And there wasn't anything wrong with it, he knew. 'It' being his fancy for Hermione.
Fancy for Hermione? Him?
He didn't have to think over it anymore, since there wasn't anything left to think about. Nothing to doubt, nothing to regret. Only something to accept.
Harry looked at Hermione. Oh, what an indescribable moron he was. The embodiment of a true git. How nice of him to not see what his closed mind refused to see. What was right in front of him, or who, actually, was what he needed. He couldn't think of any other better way to describe it.
He saw everything clearly now. How he couldn't have seen it earlier, he did not know; it had been right in front of his eyes all along. Harry had just been too blind to see it; or maybe he had just refused to see it, to acknowledge its presence.
Okay, now that you've realized it, you might as well tell her.
Harry was on the verge of telling himself outright not to do it; it could wreck their friendship.
But it won't.
How? He was tempted to ask. Wouldn't becoming more than friends change the way their friendship was?
No.
Then what would it do?
Nothing, since you'll still have her friendship. And she'll have yours.
He was so indecisive.
When had that happened?
But most important of all, when had his feelings changed? Had he always felt them, and just hadn't noticed that they were there? Maybe they had been hidden for a long time and he had only come to realize it now. Or had he refused to acknowledge what he felt until now?
Harry felt it was a combination of all three. It was like a two way mirror to him; one side reflecting his mixed up feelings for Hermione, the other side reflecting what they really were.
He paused. Did he want to look into the mirror and see what was reflected back at him? He already had everything he wanted and needed to know right in his hand; the only thing left to do was to set it free, and realize and accept it. After all, there wasn't anything he could do about it; there was no way he could control or stop the way he felt.
He closed his eyes and then opened them. He had been blind all along. Not only to her, but to everyone else. It wasn't Cho who lingered in his thoughts anymore; everything that he knew of her vanished. It hadn't been her who had been troubling all this time; it had been Hermione. Oh, how could he have been so dense and not figure it out? Simple; because of his stubbornness to not see who had been there for him always, and had never left. Someone who had been right in front of his eyes and him refusing not to see her, or what was there between him and her.
Another look at Hermione had him catch his breath and try to assemble his jumbled thoughts together. He honestly needed to pull it together; get a grip.
A sharp jab in the arm caught his attention - rather effectively. "Ow! Hermione!" he cried out, trying not to smile at the way she had tried to catch his attention.
"Yes?" She asked a little too innocently.
He bit his lip to keep from laughing. "What is it?" He asked curiously, focusing his bright green eyes on her.
"Eh," She sounded flustered now (and it seemed that she was trying her best not to be affected by the bright green eyes on her), "I was wondering why you were in a daze. Thinking of someone, perhaps?" A smile curved her mouth. She was teasing him.
He decided to retaliate by teasing her. Big time. "Perhaps," He said, the corners of his mouth tugging up into a half grin. No need for her to be suspicious, after all.
She put her arms on her hips, giving him a semi glare. "Honestly, Harry," she huffed impatiently.
He hid a grin behind his hand. "Well, if you want to know, I was."
An unreadable look spread across her features. "Really?" She cleared her throat. "I wonder who." She tried to sound light; as if nothing was wrong. Of course he could see through her facade; he knew every expression and tone of voice of hers by heart. And she knew it, too. There was no harm in trying to fool him that nothing was wrong, she thought.
"You know her," was all he said. Then he clamped his mouth shut, waiting to see what she would say, how she would react. Would she even say anything?
Her eyes narrowed in thought. "You want me to guess? But isn't it already obvious?"
His breath caught. She already knew? Was he that transparent?
"Isn't it Cho? You did say she wouldn't leave you alone; that you couldn't get her out of her mind."
"But I did say that I was over her, Hermione," he corrected quietly. "It's not her, though." He wasn't sure whether to be relieved or not that she didn't know who it was.
How could she not, though? He reflected. After all, it was her. And she knows that I don't like any girls in Gryffindor, let any other houses. Including Ravenclaw. He mentally scoffed at the thought.
"Who could it be then?" Hermione mused. "Unless . . ." She said slowly.
Harry mentally braced himself. For what he did not know; it might have been a possible heartbreak or a gentle letdown for all he knew.
". . . it's me. Harry?"
There. She had said it. Now all that was left was his impending moment of doom. What makes you think she'll reject you? Silly git, his mind mocked.
He looked up from the ground to meet her eyes. "Yes?" He didn't need to say anything else. His eyes told her everything that she wanted, needed to know.
Hermione wasn't sure whether to cry, smile or laugh. Maybe a combo of the three. She had never felt so deliriously happy in her life. Amazing how so little a thing can mean so much, she thought.
She didn't know what to think now. A mix of emotions was all she felt; a mix of tangled and unresolved emotions. Hermione had not been expecting this at all; it was like a sudden whirlwind that she found herself caught in but could never get out of.
Isn't that a part of life, though? To expect the unexpected? To live with the unpredictability of life? Her mind questioned.
So what if she hadn't been expecting to fall for her best friend? And that he would feel the same way she did? There was nothing wrong with feeling that way . . even if it broke the so called number one rule of friendship. She didn't care anymore. She wasn't going to deny what - or who - was right for her. There was no sense in being plagued with endless what ifs and regrets for the rest of her life when she could accept it right now.
Hermione took his hand in hers, wondering if one of them was going to say something. Anything. Then she realized that there was nothing to be said. There was no need to say anything.
"You know, Hermione," he said finally, "I think I feel better now. No - I know I feel better now."
She smiled and felt an overwhelming calm wash over her. "Same here," she whispered, feeling the last fragments of fear and doubt wash away.
He only put her hand over his heart. All Hermione felt was Harry's endless heartbeat, beating strong and sure against her hand - like a lifeline.