"You're saying no. Again." He huffed out a sigh and absently crossed his arms over his chest.
"Yes."
"I've asked four times now and every time you've said no."
She closed her book and leaned back into the soft padding of the sofa, readying herself for a long and likely painful discussion. This is not how she had expected to spend her evening. She had hoped to spend a quiet night at home with Harry, perhaps watching a movie, or talking, or just sitting together, doing their own things. She had net expected Harry to come home to the Oxford flat they shared and ask her for a date, again.
"I know, Harry."
He suddenly tore his gaze away from her like he couldn't stand to look at her for a second longer. It pained her to do this to him, to hurt him like she was, but she knew that it was better to hurt him now than it would be to hurt him however many months down the line when they didn't work out like she knew they wouldn't. She sat quietly and watched him pace in front of the fire, waiting for him to explode and start shouting at her out of frustration and hurt feelings. He wasn't taken by sudden bouts of temper as he had been when he was younger, but she knew she was testing his limits, not on purpose of course, but still, she could see that she was trying his patients.
He shoulders slumped in defeat and he let out a great, heaving breath. "What is it then?"
She gazed at him in confusion. This was not what she had anticipated. "What is what?"
"You obviously won't go out with me for a reason, but you've never told what that reason is." He continued to pace in front of her, still refusing to even glance in her general direction. "Am I not smart enough? Not fun enough? Am I not attractive to you? Too short-tempered, too often depressed? Is it because of who I am? I mean, the media attention and fans and - "
"Harry," she interrupted him mid-ramble, "what are you talking about?"
He finally stopped pacing and turned to face her. She was not prepared for the look on his face, the rejection, sadness, defeat. She had never seen him like this, not in nine years of friendship, eight of which were spent under the shroud of death and war.
"There must be a reason, Hermione. You must keep saying no for some reason. There has to be something I can work on, something I can change because there's obviously something wrong with me if you won't even consider giving us a chance."
She folded her fists tightly in her lap, digging her fingernails into the palms of her hands in hope that that pain would distract her from the pain in her heart. She had always been the first to round on anyone, wand drawn and aimed, who hurt Harry in any way, she'd never thought that she'd ever feel the desire to draw her wand on herself. Looking at him now, she realized that she had hurt him far worse than anyone else ever could because she was the one person whom he trusted above all else, the one person that he was truly open with, the one person who saw every part of him, even his heart. He had given her the power to completely destroy him and she had unknowingly used it. He had all but professed his love for her and she had denied him time and again and, perhaps worst of all, she had never given him a reason. She wanted to cry.
"Harry, there is nothing wrong with you. Nothing. There is nothing that you can change to make yourself a better person because you are already the best person you can be. I don't know anyone who even comes close to being as good as you are. Don't even think about changing a thing about yourself. Please."
His eyes darted around the room, unable to focus on any one thing. He looked like he was fighting back tears, battling to keep his emotions in check. "Then what is it?"
She reached out her hand for him. "Sit with me, Harry."
He stared at her hand for a long while, looking like he was debating whether to do what she requested or to run from the flat as fast as he could. His fingers convulsively tightened and loosened on his arms as he thought and she wondered when they had come to this point. When had they reached a place where he was scared to sit with her, to talk with her? When had they reached a point where she could wound him so badly and not know it until it was far too late?
"Please, Harry. We have to talk."
After another long moment of hesitation, he slowly reached out and slid his hand into hers. She closed her fingers around his hand and gently tugged him onto the couch beside her. She turned in her seat to face him, tucking her legs under her and placing a comforting hand on his thigh. He glanced down at her hand warily and crossed his arms over his chest again, closing himself off, protecting himself from her.
She drew a deep breath, wondering where to begin. There was obviously still a lot on his mind, things that he hadn't yet mentioned, and she desperately needed to clear up a few things before irrevocable damage was done to their already injured friendship.
"I need you to listen to me, Harry, listen to what I'm going to say to you, ok?" He nodded slowly. "Good." She paused briefly to gather her thoughts. "First things first, I'm sorry I ever made you think that you were lacking in some way because you most certainly are not. You are a wonderful man, Harry, in so many ways and, everyday, I thank whatever powers deemed me worthy of being your friend. Never change anything about you, I don't think I could bare it if you did." She watched him carefully, making sure that he was listening, that he was taking in what she was saying. "I have been completely unfair to you. I realize that now. I should have given you a reason for turning you down, I should have made you understand why I was saying no and I can't apologize enough for not doing that. I can see now how much I've hurt you and I can't stand that. To sit here and see you in pain and know that it's because of me, that I'm the one that has hurt you, it kills me, but it's nothing less than I deserve right now."
He frowned at her. "Hermione, you-"
She shook her head. "No, Harry, let me speak." Merlin, how she adored him, even when she was in the wrong he tried to reassure her. "I owe you an explanation and I hope I can express myself and my reasoning adequately, so bare with me through this."
She looked away from him and took a moment to collect herself so she wouldn't mess this up. She could feel his gaze on her, waiting for her to say something. His leg was trembling ever so slightly under her hand and his breathing was shaky.
She slowly turned her eyes back to his and let the corner of her mouth turn up in a slight smile. "I adore you, Harry, I do. You are an amazing friend and I know that you would be even more amazing as a boyfriend. There is so much love in you to give and I'm honoured and touched that I'm the one you want to share that with, but I just don't think it's a good idea, not now, not yet." She moved her hand to his in his lap and tightly grasped it. "What we have is so amazing and I don't want to chance that. I won't lie and say that I've never thought about what we would be like together. It would be incredible and I know that. It would be more than what we have now; it would be forever. When we fall in love - when, Harry, not if - it will make people stop and watch us as we walk by and they'll wish they could have what we have, it will be written about for years to come, and not just because you're Harry Potter. Our love will be astounding and awe-inspiring when it comes. But it's not our time yet; we're not ready for that. I know you think you are and I can't tell you how much I wish we were ready, but we're not. We're too young, too immature to handle that kind of love. I refuse to leave it completely to chance, I refuse to muck it up."
She reached up to gently touch his cheek with her free hand. "Loving you will take everything that I have, maybe more than I have right now. A relationship with you isn't something that I want to go into half prepared. When we do take that step, I want to have the time to relax and enjoy it and just love you without all the outside pressures of life. We're barely adults, Harry, barely out of school. I'm just starting my studies at Oxford and you're still deciding what you want to do. How can we try to start something when everything is so uncertain? I'm going to be so busy with school; more so than we ever were at Hogwarts, and who knows what you'll end up doing. For all we know, you could be working somewhere on the continent or be living in Canada in six months."
He shook his head desperately causing her hand to fall from his cheek, the thought of being so far away from her terrifying for him. "But I won't be. I couldn't be."
She smiled sadly. "You don't know that. And, even so, I'm just not ready to take that step yet. We will have our chance, Harry, I don't doubt that for a second, but it'll be when we're ready. We still have so much growing to do, Harry. We're still kids, really."
He looked into the fire, tantalized by the flickering flames. He seemed to be mulling over what she said, considering her points and processing the meaning of what she said. She knew that what she felt and what she said had brought their relationship to a precipice and what he said next would determine what way they would fall. Time seemed to have stopped for Hermione. Though he only took a few brief minutes to think about what she'd said, it felt to her like she sat on that precipice for an eternity.
"I understand, Hermione, I do." He spoke so softly that she had to lean into him to hear. "But I don't agree, not with what you said about me not being ready. I'm in love with you, have been for years and I feel like I'm at the point in my life where I'm ready to admit that. I'm ready to love you and I've been ready for this, for us for ages and I thought you were too. You're scared and I understand that because I'm scared too, but the difference is that I believe in us enough to take the chance. I'm willing to take the time to see what we could be together, but you're not."
"Harry," she whispered, her voice weak with emotion, "that's not what I said."
He ignored her, continuing as though she hadn't spoken. "I'm a patient man, Hermione, and I love you, I think I've made that abundantly clear over the last year, but, contrary to what my repeated requests for a simple date may lead you to believe, I am not a masochist. I'll give you time and space, I'll give you what you think you need, and I probably will ask you again, but there will come a day when I will take no for an answer." He turned his head to look into her eyes and the fire played on the tear tracks over his cheeks, her own cheeks felt oddly damp. "I do love you, but I won't wait forever. I'm only human, Hermione, and I can only take so much. I won't spend my life waiting on a woman who has made it clear that she doesn't want me."
Her heart tightened painfully in her chest and a sob rose in her throat. "Harry, I don't want to lose you."
He looked at her sadly, reached out a hand to brush the tears from her face, but let it drop before he touched her. "You'll never lose me, Hermione. We'll always be friends, we've been through too much not to be."
"That's not the same," she sobbed. "I don't want things to change."
"It's too late for that."
They looked at each other in silence, the firelight playing over their features, dancing in the tears that rolled over their cheeks and casting an all too warm glow over such a painful moment as it danced in the grate, mocking them.
He tore his gaze from hers, puffed out a breath and rubbed his hands quickly over his thighs, blinking his eyes several times. "Well," he pushed himself up from the couch, quickly putting several feet between them. He turned and looked down at her. "Let me know if you ever find the time to love me, Hermione. I hope that by then it won't be too late."
He turned quickly and left their flat, leaving Hermione crying on the couch wondering if he would come home again.