Part Three
It was early August, just a week after Harry sent that fateful letter to Hermione…
And she hadn't answered him.
He sighed as he felt that familiar tug of the portkey-Lupin and Moody had come to fetch him and take him to Grimmauld Place. While Harry loathed the thought of going there, there was no other option. The Burrow was in danger, and Diagon Alley was out of the question.
Landing at the front door, Harry sighed and knocked. Lupin frowned at his forlorn expression, trying to place where he had seen it before.
Opening the door was Ron. A smile lit up his face. "Harry!" He cried. "Great to see you, mate!"
A small, but genuine smile found its way onto Harry's. "You too, Ron." They stepped in, and after making small pleasantries, Harry frowned.
"Where's Hermione?"
Ron looked at him. "She didn't tell you? Her parents thought it best if she didn't come to Grimmauld… they wanted an entire summer with her." Seeing Harry's frown deepen, Ron hastened to add, "don't worry though; we'll be meeting her at Diagon Alley in about two weeks."
Two weeks? How am I supposed to survive two bloody weeks without hearing from her??? Because Harry was convinced that Hermione didn't return his love.
I mean, if she had felt something, she would've written, right?
If Harry was any more melancholy than he was since June, no one particularly noticed. They all contributed it to Sirius's death.
Harry, however, knew Sirius wasn't dead. He had heard voices behind the veil. Until he had it confirmed… saw a corpse, saw a ghost, anything… Harry would keep faith.
But with Hermione?
That, he deemed, was nothing but a lost cause that he should never bring up again.
Perhaps he was meant to be alone.
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(Two weeks earlier)
He-he loved her?
Sensible, level-headed Hermione Granger had absolutely no bloody clue what to do.
What if he only loved her because he needed someone to love, now that Sirius was gone?
What if he only disillusioned himself? That perhaps, in his grief, he pulled out that mad idea that he loved her?
What if… what if she loved him back?
Well… she didn't know about the other questions, but this one she knew she would be able to answer.
Now… if only she could figure out that answer, that would be just great.
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(Back at Grimmauld Place, two weeks after Harry's arrival)
Harry's birthday, though long over, was celebrated just the week before. He was showered with gifts and smiles, and he honestly felt very loved at that moment, even if the people he loved the most weren't there. But, he could feel his parent's love and Sirius's on him, and even Hermione's platonic love.
Speaking of Hermione, he hadn't gotten a gift from her. The material angle of it settled him not a wit, but the thought behind the gift… the way she showed she thought of him on his birthday… it was gone… and it hurt him.
"Don't worry, mate," Ron said cheerfully. "I heard from Hermione a few days ago-said she wanted to give you her present in person."
Harry blanched. So Hermione wanted to talk to Ron, but now him? So… he had been right. Hermione loved Ron.
Well, he thought bitterly, at least we've got that straight.
0 0 0 0 0
It turned out that Hermione was unable to meet them at Diagon Alley after all.
There had been some attacks on muggle families very close by to them, so immediately members of the order were sent to her house to guard over them. Hermione's things had been gotten from Diagon Alley by a member order and she would be escorted onto the train. And even then Harry couldn't see her, for she was now required to sit in the prefect car.
"At least I can delay the awkwardness," Harry sighed to himself. He was looking forward to and dreading seeing Hermione again. He knew that love was one of the best things about life, or so he heard Dumbledore say once, but really, how come it had to be so damn painful?
0 0 0 0 0
She sought him out after the first dinner. He had sat near Neville instead of her and Ron, and Hermione immediately guessed as to why.
She sighed before going after him. He had promptly excused himself as quickly as he could after eating and tried desperately not to run out of the Great Hall.
Catching up to him, she took a hold of his sleeve and said quietly, "Harry… we need to talk."
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