Author's Note: I'm sorry for the confusion about this story. Yes, this is the same one that I had posted on fanfiction.net, with some very minor revisions to fix some inconsistencies. The rest of the writing, and all of the plot, will be exactly the same. I am simply moving it over to Portkey before removing it from ff.net. The rest of it, through Chapter 24, will be uploaded as time permits, to most likely be completed before Christmas.
There will be a brand-new one-shot up for Christmas in the next few days. It will be the first that I have written specifically for post on Portkey, and from now on, my stories will be placed here. I have also started work on my next full-length. Until then, I'm very sorry to those of you that have read this one before! If you haven't read it before, please enjoy. :)
See Chapter 1 for Disclaimer.
"Harry."
He lifted his face from her chest, to look around. There was no one else there. No one could be calling him. The voice had sounded distinctly like Hermione's, but Harry knew it couldn't be. It was just his imagination. His imagination calling to him. 'Harry,' it was saying. 'Harry, what a fool you are. Here you are, crying on Hermione's chest. Saying things that you know can't be true. You know you and Hermione are just friends. You know that you don't love her as anything more. You don't know love,' it was whispering. 'You have never known love. You never will.' Harry shook his head, eager to get rid of this voice. He was beating himself up enough already. But, as awful as it sounded, Harry found himself thinking about what his mind had said. 'You have never known love. You never will.' Harry thought about it. He never had parents. The closest thing he had ever had died two years before. He never had a family. Sure, he felt comfort at the Burrow. Did he love Mrs. Weasley? He did not know. Almost afraid, he looked down at the sleeping form on the bed. Finding himself alone in the room with only an unconscious Hermione to hear him, he thought out loud to himself.
"I haven't felt love. I don't know what it is. Do I love you? What is love? Is it comforting you when you cry? Is it laughing with you when you giggle? I don't know. And I've never thought about loving you, Hermione. Nothing against you, just you were always my best friend. I trusted you with everything, but I just could never let that last part go. I can't give my heart away, or it will get trampled again, like it did with Sirius. But you are the closest thing I have to love. You are always there. But how can I be in love with you? You are my best friend. And I didn't realize that I felt so weird until now, watching you helpless on the bed. Sure, I loved you as a friend. But to be in love with you? I just never noticed anything. You are so angelic-looking. So perfect. I don't know how to love. I don't know how to be in love. But I guess that it's true. I just can't get my conscious mind around it. I am in love with you, no matter how little I know. And that's why you can't know, because I don't know what I'm doing or how I really feel, and I don't want to hurt you, ever again." Again, the words came straight from his heart. His mind was blank, tired from the events. But his heart was running on overdrive. And, since no one was in the room, he could say his feelings without any problem. Even Hermione was not in the room- her mind wasn't, at least. He mumbled incoherently. He became softer, barely a whisper now. "I might not know what love is, Hermione, but I know I feel it. I can't give my heart to you. If you died, my heart would too. You may never know it, but I am in love with you, Hermione Granger." He closed his eyes, out of exhaustion. He heard a labored exhale. He sat up again, and looked at Hermione. Her chest rose and fell, but it seemed to be doing so with a purpose now. Her mouth opened, undoubtably a reflex reaction. He sat beside her, watching her chest rise and fall.
"Hhhhh."
He heard the air, and looked at her face, still the same angelic shape it was before.
"Hhhh"
It was softer now, but Harry felt a pang of hope. Maybe she was waking up. The sounds got softer still, and Harry strained to hear.
"Harry."
He sat bolt upright. It wasn't his imagination this time, was it? He looked down at her, still motionless. He waited for several long minutes, and then established that it was again his mind. He laid his head back down.
"Harry. I love you too."
This time, he slowly raised his head. The voice had been so quiet and airy. He couldn't have made it up. Or could he have? He looked at her face, and miraculously, her eyelids slowly began to flicker. She was alive!!! He couldn't move, both out of joy and of complete shock. Hermione was alive! And she had just said... had she? Maybe in his mind, he made it up. She couldn't feel that way toward him.
"I love you."
Her eyes stayed closed, and her body remained motionless. Then it hit him. She didn't know what she was saying. She had lost her mental function. The thought made his heart heavy again. She had really said it, but she didn't know she had, and she didn't mean it. She wouldn't remember when she awoke. "Shh, Hermione. It's OK. You'll be fine," he forced. It hurt him that he felt this way, and the weight of what she had said and how she didn't even know rested on his chest. He looked at her. She was alive, all right, but she didn't remember. And she couldn't think rationally. 'If she had been thinking', he thought to himself, 'she wouldn't have said that'. He resigned himself to just sitting next to her, holding her small hand in his own. He sat there, mentally and physically exhausted, for several long minutes, with no more words from her. He gazed at her, observing again her beauty, even in this situation. After more laborious minutes, her eyelids began to flicker again. This time, it was evident that, even though she might be in a compromised mental state, she was really waking up. Her lids flickered more, this time revealing her warm brown eyes. Harry sat, still holding her hand, and watched her. He didn't want to speak, because he knew that if he did, the full evidence of her disability would be present. He just wanted to enjoy this moment, the last moment he thought he would have with the Hermione Granger that he knew.