The Gift Of Honesty

A/N: hey guys! After having read HPB and JKR’s interviews I am more determined than ever to write a good story for Harry and Hermione! I’m not jumping ship, I’m not losing hope and I am still a firm believer of H/HR… after all, we still have one more book to go! This story is set after 6^th year and we are in the summer where Bill and Fleur’s wedding is about to take place at the Burrow! I hope you enjoy it =)

Disclaimer: not mine … never will be!!

The sun outside was shining brilliantly onto the evergreen grass that could be found in the backyard of the Burrow. Birds could be heard singing beautifully in the distance, whilst trees were swaying gently to and fro by the tender breeze. This wonderful weather was quite a contradiction to Harry Potter’s current mood.

Harry was sitting on the bed inside the room that he was sharing with Ron for the summer, contemplating all the strange events that had happened the previous year at Hogwarts. ‘Hogwarts,’ his mind thought ‘my real home yet now it feels so – distant,’ he concluded with a sad shake of his head, however his decision of not returning there for his last year seemed right and he had no regrets.

“This is something I have to do,” he muttered to himself whilst getting up from the soft mattress and closing the gap between the window and himself. Leaning his forehead onto the window, with view that Burrow’s backyard, he allowed himself to close his eyes and breathe out a sigh of frustration mixed with determination and fatigue. His breath fogged up a small amount of the window and he traced lazy circles with his forefinger, while his mind began a journey of thought through his 6^th year at Hogwarts.

Flashes of faces made an appearance in the darkness of his mind – Ron, Hermione, Ginny, Dumbledore, Snape – he jerked his head back and opened his eyes, yet they weren’t the friendly emerald colour that his two closest friends knew. They held a glint of anger in them when a certain greasy-haired professor entered his thoughts, ‘damn traitor.’ However, since this was supposed to be a joyful day, he decided not to contemplate on that subject any longer. Two figures with hair the colour of fire came into his mind’s eye, and anyone who could have seen him at the moment would swear that he had a ghost of a smile etched onto his face.

His best friend’s sister and his best friend; two people that he knew practically ever since the beginning of his trip into the magical world. This year, however, was very different than the rest and he wasn’t sure that it was for the best. He had figured that Ron held feelings towards Hermione that were a little more than friendship, yet he didn’t know how to react when both of them started acting up on them; which is why he turned to Ginny Weasley. Albeit he always found her to be attractive, he never considered her anything more than Ron’s younger sister. Nevertheless, during his 6^th year they started going out but that only lasted for a short period of time. ‘Things are better this way,’ his mind tried to reason with him, ‘she will be safe from Voldermort,’ he concluded and it was true. If he wasn’t involved with Ginny then she wouldn’t be a target. ‘Besides,’ his mind went on, ‘you both agreed that you work together better when you are just friends and not romantically involved,’ this too, was true. After arriving at the Burrow, Ginny took him by the hand and they had the deepest conversation that they ever had, coming to the conclusion that what they had wasn’t what they expected.

“I guess what I had in my mind was exaggerated because of the fact that you were The Harry Potter,” Ginny informed him sadly, yet Harry understood what she meant. When people have an idea about something that’s very important to them, they allow it to take the form of something god-like but in reality it’s just a normal, every-day thing. They parted ways being closer than before, knowing that when the time comes, they’ll help each other find what they’re looking for.

His train of thought immediately switched tracks and Hermione Granger formed an angelic figure that glowed in the gloominess of his mind. He felt his breathe catch in his throat before pulling himself together and letting himself reflect onto this past year and what had happened between them. ‘Things definitely changed here,’ he thought miserably, and started pacing the room unconsciously. After having ran a hand through his unruly jet-black hair, he let out a sigh of frustration.

“What the hell happened?” he wondered out loud. Things were more tense between them and even more so when he arrived at the Burrow a week ago. They hadn’t talked as much, she would continuously nag at him and not listen to his theories, and she hadn’t guided him as she had always done in previous years. It was as if she was replaced by a new Hermione that was more closed to herself than anyone else.

“Damn it,” he cursed and kicked the leg of the bed, immediately regretting it as his toe realized what happened and a dull pain made its way there. Letting his shoulders sag, he dropped onto the bed and cradled his head in his hands.

He must have fallen asleep because the next thing he knew was that he was hearing some sort of commotion going on in the Weasley’s backyard. Rubbing his eyes, he got up and stretched his hands while walking over to the window and looking out. People had started to gather and were taking their seats for the small wedding that was about to take place in just a little over an hour.

“I guess I better get ready and go down,” he thought out loud and began to put on his dark green robes over the jeans and t-shirt he was wearing. He wasn’t in the mood for a celebration, but was in awe at how the Weasleys went on with life as if nothing serious was going on. Sure, the clock downstairs was always pointing at “In Danger” but they were determined to go through this wedding without any incident. He had heard many conversations between Molly and Fleur about how the seating arrangements should be and what flowers had to be brought in, that he let out a chuckle of amusement.

He was brought out of his reverie when he heard a step on the stairs creak. ‘They must be sending someone to get me,’ he thought, and tried to hurry up the process of getting ready. Being punctual was never one of Harry’s good traits! Looking himself in the mirror, he gave a half-hearted nod of approval and tried to flatten down his hair, even though the mirror was trying to convince him that he was fighting a losing battle. With running one last hand through his hair, he managed not only to not tame his hair, but also to make his glasses go flying from his face and onto the floor.

“Great, just great!” and as he fumbled his way on the floor trying to see past all the blurs, he heard a crack underneath his knee and inwardly groaned. Finally, he managed to pick them up and “saw” that they were at a weird angle.

“Bloody … damned…” he started a train of curses but stopped suddenly when he saw a figure on the doorway watching him humorously. At least, he thought that they were watching him like that because of the person’s sad attempt at trying to control they laughter, and his mind raced to the first person that he could think of that laughed like that.

“Oh Harry honestly!” he heard and his suspicions were confirmed who this person was. “Reparo!” Hermione gracefully said that offered Harry his new-fixed glasses.

“Thanks,” he told her with appreciation laced in his voice whilst putting them on. Suddenly the unknown blurs all came in focus and he was slightly taken aback with her appearance. It was as if putting on his glasses made him see clearly in more ways than one. Giving his head a slight shake, he managed to put on a weak smile and turned once more to the mirror for a final look.

“You’re fine Harry,” he heard Hermione say, and looking at her through the mirror he couldn’t help but wonder why there was such an empty look in her normally sparkling caramel eyes. He opened his mouth to say something but was cut off by her saying,

“We really should be getting downstairs,” she started, “they’re about to get started with the ceremony,” and with that she turned on her heel and left the door but stopping at the doorway waiting for him. Harry made his way towards her, and together they left the room and went downstairs.

Once outside, they found Ron and sat in the two empty chairs that he had saved for them.

“What took you so long?” Ron asked but Harry just waved his hand dismissively.

“Nothing,” he muttered and was grateful when from the corner of his eye he saw Hermione give Ron one of her silencing looks.

The wedding started and everyone was admiring how beautiful Fleur was on her special day. Her blonde hair was blowing gently in the light wind and the setting sun was giving off magnificent colours that made Fleur truly resemble an angel.

Bill was looking up to her as if she was the only thing that he could see. Harry respected Bill for what he had gone through, and even though he wasn’t back to his original strength and in a wheelchair, he didn’t want to postpone the wedding any longer and so here they were. Especially after seeing Fleur defend her love for him in front of Molly in the Hospital Wing, they were closer than ever before and much stronger together, not allowing anyone to doubt the love that they had for each other. Despite the fact that the scars were still visible on his face, he looked handsome with his blue eyes shining off all the love that he had for the woman that was standing before him. Hands laced together, they listened to the man that was marrying them with glances being exchanged between them every now and again.

Finally, they were shown off to their audience as,

“Mr. and Mrs. Weasley” with applaud ringing all over the garden and congratulations being shouted everywhere. The happy couple made its way down the aisle and Harry shook their hands as the passed by, yet at the same time he was engulfed by sadness as he couldn’t help but wonder if he will ever have the chance of experiencing such an event. Still, this wasn’t the time for him to become selfish again, and so with determination he pushed back that bad feeling and allowed himself to feel happy for Bill and Fleur, walking back to the reception area with Ron and Hermione on either side of him.

A/N: I know it was a bit short, but hopefully the next chapters will be longer! Please review even if it’s just to say “I like it!” “I hate it!” :p neni =)

A/N: thanks all of those people who actually took the time to review my story! And I’ve replied to all of you, seeing as I have tons of free time now that it’s summer hehe, hopefully I’ll be able to keep this up! Now, I have to warn you guys that I don’t actually reread what I write! I just write then post! So excuse any grammar mistakes, etc :) This is MUCH longer than my first chapter! Hope you enjoy =) Oh and, R/R please neni =)

Disclaimer: not mine … never will be unfortunately!

The wedding reception had ended an hour ago and Molly was left downstairs finishing cleaning up the house, while Ron, Harry, Hermione and Ginny left for their rooms. Once Ginny and Hermione entered the solace of their bedroom they both flopped onto their beds, exhausted by the day’s events.

“I admit,” Ginny started, “that I was wrong about Fleur. She isn’t that bad,” she concluded. Hermione turned her head to the right so that she could face Ginny on the opposite bed. Stretching her arms above her head she replied,

“I respect her for what she did with Bill. Not giving up on him I mean,” she continued when she saw the baffled look on Ginny’s face, “when he was attacked by that werewolf. Even though his face will never be as handsome as it once was, she has stuck by him through thick and thin, no matter what. I just hope that I find someone like that one day,” she trailed off, choosing at that time to get off the bed and walk over to the mirror that was situated on the other side of the room.

Ginny propped herself on her right elbow and took this moment to study Hermione. She wasn’t the same person that she had known these past years and something was definitely amiss, yet she couldn’t exactly pinpoint what. She seemed more closed off to herself, less talkative and just seemed to have given up, to put it bluntly. Settling on the decision that asking what was wrong was the right course of action; she sat cross-legged on the bed and opened her mouth.

“Hermione?” she tentatively asked the auburn-haired girl. When a gentle ‘hm?’ came back as a reply, she voiced her question, “is there something troubling you?” she finished with a slight wince as she wasn’t sure if it was the correct approach after all.

Hermione was stopped mid-way of taking off her earrings and just stared back at her reflection in the mirror. ‘True,’ she began thinking, ‘I look as if I just saw a ghost,’ bringing one of her delicate hands to her face and touched her pale cheek. As if startling herself, she was made to look at her almond-shaped eyes that lacked the once brilliant spark of energy that could be found when she read something new in a book or received the newest version of “Hogwarts: A History”. Now they are simply, ‘dead,’ her mind chipped in. Deciding not to lie outright about it she merely answered,

“It hasn’t been easy on any of us this past year.”

“Well no, but I feel as if you have withdrew yourself from everyone. We haven’t been as close as we have been the other times that you came to visit. We haven’t had a personal conversation in days, when all we seemed to be doing is talk about the silly things that girls talk our age!”

Hermione suddenly spun round to face Ginny, taking her by surprised and frightening her by the angry look that had replaced the empty pools of caramel,

“Well we aren’t like most girls now are we?” Looking at the shocked look on Ginny’s face, she immediately regretted talking to her like that and changed tactics, “I’m sorry Gin, I shouldn’t have talked to you like that. What I meant to say was - ” but was cut off by Ginny bringing up a hand.

“You don’t have to apologise Hermione. As you’ve already said, it hasn’t been easy on any of us and it’s bound to have an impact on our lives. I just thought you would have trusted me enough to tell me what’s wrong,” she concluded with a faraway look in her eyes as if sadness had suddenly overwhelmed her and couldn’t bring herself to look Hermione straight in the eye.

“Gin…” Hermione began but trailed off as she realized that she couldn’t say anything true to make Ginny feel better. ‘Merlin,’ he though, ‘why is this so difficult? I was always the logical one, vowing to myself that I’d never let it affect me this badly! Seems like I failed, and in the process I have her one of my closest friends!’ It was true, even though Hermione had two males and her best friends, she was still a girl and needed female comfort. That’s where Ginny came in, ‘But this year it’s been different,’ her mind offered, ‘You haven’t been as close as previous years, you haven’t even had one decent conversation with her. Face the truth, you’ve drifted apart.’ “Look Ginny, I know that we’ve grown apart this year but I don’t want to lose your friendship,” she informed the redhead truthfully, looking into her eyes and waiting for her reply. Ginny took her time in looking straight back at Hermione, their glance never wavering until finally Ginny seemed to be touched by Hermione’s honest plea,

“I don’t want to lose your friendship either,” she told her, and with that the two girls hugged each other tightly, unwilling to let go. It represented a promise that they’ll never do anything to hurt one another on purpose, and a symbol of true friendship. Neither was sure who initiated the hug nor who broke away first, but when they did, both laughed as they noticed the other’s tear-stained face.

“I’m glad that’s out of the way,” Hermione said trying to lighten up the atmosphere, while wiping away a tear with the end of her sleeve.

Sensing that this was a good time to bring up a subject that she was very curious about , Ginny brought her knees to her chest and leaned back on the head of her bed,

“Hermione, are you serious about not returning to Hogwarts next year?”

“If it actually remains open you mean?” Ginny nodded her head, “I am,” she informed her without a shadow of hesitation, “Harry needs me to protect him. He needs both of his best friends there and I’m willing to do it with no questions asked.”

“I don’t understand why you won’t be returning back there that’s all. Harry didn’t mention anything to me about why he’s doing this, just that he is.”

Hermione couldn’t help but feel a slight hint of satisfaction in the pit of her stomach, yet simultaneously she felt guilty in doing so after their hug and promise. Not allowing herself to plaster a smirk on her face, she turned her gaze to the window and began speaking,

“It’s not my place to tell you Ginny it’s Harry’s, but I will tell you this,” she leaned closer to her, “it’s very important that we leave as soon as possible so as to get a head-start. I think of it as the beginning of the demise of Voldermort, and if Harry’s hunches are right, then we have good chances of winning this war. All we have is each other, and even though Harry doesn’t want to admit it, Dumbledore was one of the very few people that he had left in this world to guide him.”

“It’s hard to believe that we won’t be seeing him anymore,” Ginny commented on Dumbledore’s death, “I was so used in seeing him around Hogwarts that it’s just unbelievable to think that he’s truly gone. I just felt so safe with him around.”

“You and me both Gin.”

Ginny suddenly let out a yawn of exhaustion, causing Hermione to chuckle sadly. With no more words being exchanged between them, they got ready for bed and slid under the safety of their covers.

“Goodnight Hermione.”

“Goodnight Ginny,” though Hermione was wondering to herself how in the world she was going to manage to go to sleep with all the thoughts that have been going through her head at light’s speed.

Meanwhile at the boys’ room, Harry and Ron were getting ready for bed themselves.

“Harry, did you see how Hermione was today?” Ron asked out of the blue, causing Harry to go on a fit of coughs. Patting his back, Ron managed to somewhat help Harry thus allowing him to answer.

“Err, what do you mean?” Harry asked, averting his eyes from Ron and trying to find something in the room to keep him occupied. Suddenly the room began to feel very small, the walls were beginning to close in on him and he found that he was having difficulty breathing. He couldn’t figure out for the life of him what was wrong. It was a perfectly normal question to be asked, especially if the person who asked it was his best friend’s boyfriend and his, in turn, best friend.

An image of Hermione in her robes abruptly filled his mind’s eye and he couldn’t think of an adjective less than “beautiful” that could describe her. He always cherished the word beautiful because he thought it was such a over-used word, that sometimes held no meaning whatsoever. Sure he often thought of girls as ‘pretty’ but never in his life did he call anyone beautiful, other than Hermione. Ginny was another story, one that he will always hold dear in his heart as she was quite a number. He admired her feistiness, her mischievousness and being so adamant about something that she would go through anything to prove her point. They had gone out together for a short period of time, yet he was proud at the way that their relationship had gone. It wasn’t the catastrophe that had occurred with Cho Chang, and maybe one day he will be able to build a steady relationship with someone.

“… simply wonderful,” Ron’s conclusion seemed to bring out Harry out of his dream state, causing him to flush in embarrassment as he realized that he hadn’t heard a word that Ron was telling him about Hermione, and by the looks of things he had said quite a bit. Trying to figure out how he was going to reply to Ron’s expectant look, he was saved the trouble by Molly shouting at them through the closed door.

“Come on boys, it’s time to go to bed! I don’t want anymore chatting going on this evening!”

“Yes Mum” / “Yes Mrs. Weasley” was the boys’ replies, and with that they lay down in their beds, tucked under the covers. Harry was glad that Ron didn’t pursue the subject any further, yet he had a feeling that they would talk about in the morning. ‘All the better, I’ll have the night to think of a way out of answering,’ he thought to himself proudly.

After about an hour of tossing and turning, Ron’s frequent comments on “big blue eyes” and “cork necklaces”, Harry got tired of pretending that he could actually go to sleep and instead got up. He had a strange feeling that he wasn’t alone in not being able to get some sleep, and so he decided to raid the kitchen.

As he was descending the flight of stairs, his mind traveled back to occasions this year where he felt things that he was sure he wouldn’t have felt otherwise. His mind raced back to the incident where he passed by Ginny and Dean while exiting the portrait hole under the Invisibility Cloak and feeling displeased. Back then he wrote it off as being jealous of Dean, but looking back on it now he hadn’t had any reason to had done so as he genuinely liked Dean.

“I shouldn’t be keeping this things to myself,” he muttered while entering the Weasley’s kitchen.

“What things?” a kind voice came from the kitchen table and Harry wasn’t able to stop himself from jumping in fright. Growling in discomfiture as their reply was giggling in humour; he came at a stop at the kitchen table, pulled a chair from underneath it and sat down. “Well Harry,” Hermione pushed on, “what things are you keeping to yourself?”

Just as Harry was about to retort, he caught sight of her teasing smile and realized that she was just messing with him, “Don’t worry Harry, I was just teasing. Honestly, I’ve figured by now that when you’re ready to share something with us you will without us pressuring you to do so,” and for the first time that day, Harry felt truly at ease.

“Is that pumpkin pie?” Harry couldn’t help himself from asking, his stomach coming to his aid and growling. He realized that he hadn’t eaten well today, and he was aching for a piece of hot pumpkin pie to please him. Watching Hermione nod in reply, he went to get up and fetch a fork when Hermione placed her hand over his in order to stop him from getting up. Bringing the fork up from her plate, she hesitated only a moment before scooping up some of her pumpkin pie and turning towards Harry.

Alarm signals were going off in both of the two teenagers heads, but neither could fight the undeniable force that was bringing them together. Harry was surprised only for a second before licking his lips in anticipation and then opening his mouth to greet the fork that was filled with the ever-so scrumptious piece of pumpkin pie. The look that was being held between them never faltered, giving both of them ample of time to study each other. It was the first time in months that they were able to be alone and spend some real quality time together without any interruptions.

Harry, not being able to take the silence any more, took the fork from Hermione’s fragile hand and picked up a piece himself. Before returning the favour, however, he broke the heavy silence that hung in the air,

“What happened to us?” Hermione was surprised by the way that his thick voice broke into the air, flinching at hearing how sad his voice was. She nearly flipped back at the look that was radiating off his eyes, as if he was a lost child that was looking for reassurance by his special friend; his special space; his rock that would always be there when he needed it. Not finding the appropriate words to answer him, she hung her head in defeat and 3 little words escaped her mouth before being able to stop them,

“I don’t know,” Harry looked up to find her fiddling with a piece of thread that was hanging from the bottom of the tablecloth and chewing her bottom lip, a sign that she was definitely nervous.

“So you’ve felt it too?” he egged on, encouraged by the fact that she hadn’t simply shouted at him and left, “That we haven’t been the same this year?” Hermione took her time in collecting her thoughts before replying,

“Yes Harry, I’ve felt it too. It seems that all you could think about was Ginny and her relationship with Dean. If it wasn’t that then it was biting my head off whenever Quidditch was mentioned,” she ended a little more harshly than she intended, but Harry wasn’t fazed by it. It was the closest thing that resembled to a conversation to have transpired between them, and he wasn’t going to mess it up.

“You can’t deny the fact, though, that you were also caught up in your boyfriend’s escapades with Lavender and throwing fits whenever you found them alone and together!” He went to continue but halted at the look of confusion that could be read off Hermione’s face. He saw her face transform from confusion to comprehension and finally humour, though he couldn’t understand what she found so funny.

“Oh Harry, you can’t possibly think that I’m going out with Ron!” When she saw the incredulous look on his face she went on to explain, “I can understand why you would think that, especially after my out of character scenes of jealousy, but it’s not what you think,” she paused a bit to relax after noticing that all of a sudden the room seemed too hot, catching onto the fact that she was probably blushing by the look of satisfaction on Harry’s face. “I admit that I was jealous and hurt that Ron was going away with Lavender so many times and leaving us behind, and yes I thought that I liked him as he had shown on occasions that he harboured feelings for me that went beyond friendship. I was surprised to see that he had gotten over me so quickly, and I was hurt. When they finally broke up, I was happy and thought that this was my chance to see if we could work out together,” she stopped to take a sip from her pumpkin juice, clasped her hands together on the table and continued, taking note of Harry’s interest in hearing her story. “Then we had that day to go to Hogsmeade and take our apparition test, and I thought ‘this is our chance,’ but it didn’t work out. I realized that choosing to go out with Ron was only the easy thing to do and not the right,” she didn’t give Harry the opportunity to ask what she meant by that as she continued straight on, “you see, I only thought I liked Ron because of the fact that he had already shown interest in me, and you need to understand that when girls find a guy who shows that they like them, they get flattered and start thinking about what could happen. But it was wrong of me to do so, and I told him so though I don’t believe he has accepted it yet,” she finished her story and returned to finishing her pumpkin juice.

“Oh,” was the only thing that Harry could think of to say, and he smacked himself inwardly for the show of lack of vocabulary in front of her, “I’m sorry Hermione,”

“For what?”

“For everything. I haven’t been the best friend to you this past year and now I find that most of it was based on a misunderstanding. Some friend I am,” he concluded, his hand toying with the fork that still held the pumpkin pie.

“It takes two,” she replied, a knowing smile on her face, and Harry was happy to find that her eyes weren’t the empty pools of caramel that he had seen the past week. ‘Finally, they’re beginning to resemble the sparkling colour that was so filled with life,’ he thought to himself, though he couldn’t blame her if she never felt the same way as she did when they were 11 years old. Life was playing a cruel game to all of them and they were forced to grow up much quicker than was necessary, go through things that most people in their world will never face. Such things made them close off the rest of the world, grow colder yet also it made them stronger, made them realize that they should take no-one for granted.

“Harry, I admit too that I haven’t been the best friend that I have been throughout the past 5 years, but I can promise you that everything will change. If you let me that is,”

“I don’t know Hermione, things were awkward between us this past year. Do you really think that we should give it a try one more?” Hermione was so shocked to hear those words come out of Harry’s mouth that she coughed in her pumpkin juice, immediately hear Harry’s chuckle.

“You’re having a go at me aren’t you?” she asked, pretending to be mad at him but her charade not pulling through as a smile was tugging at the corner of her lips.

“Hermione,” Harry breathed out, leaning forward so that the fork that he was holding was opposite her mouth with those full lips slightly parted in anticipation. Hermione opened her lips and gracefully took in the piece that he as offering her, the fork being pulled back by him rather sensually. Neither were sure what to say next, but both of them knew that no words were needed to acknowledge to fact that they were back on track to fix whatever went wrong the past year, both determined to not let their friendship get lost.

Rays of red sunlight began to creep into the kitchen and that seemed to break the couple from the reverie of watching pools of emerald green and caramel with golden flecks in them. Neither had realized how long they had been sitting on that kitchen table simply talking.

“We should be getting back up,” Hermione said, although rather unconvincingly.

“Yeah or else Mrs. Weasley will get suspicious of what we were doing,” he told her, wriggling his eyebrows suggestively, causing Hermione to break into a grin and pushing his chest in order to get past him.

“Oh please Mr. I-think-I’m-so-hot,” she teased back, “if I didn’t know any better I’d say that you were watching me before I came downstairs and decided to come after me and get me alone,” she finished with a wink and raced up the stairs as quietly as she could, though her giggles could be heard.

“Is that so?” Harry asked and flew up the stairs at neck speed, enjoying the fact that they were able to joke once again as if they didn’t have any worries in the world. Finally reaching her before she had the chance to open her bedroom door, he flung his arms around hers thus not allowing her any movement whatsoever. “You were saying?” he asked in between deep, ragged breaths.

Hermione looked behind her shoulder and found Harry’s grin in her viewpoint, so she decided to play his game. Turning herself in such a way that made it clear she wasn’t going to run away, she came to face him and found that they were nearly nose to nose. Both of them were panting and breathing deeply, yet they never broke eye contact. They became very aware of their position yet neither of them had the power to break it up. Hermione swallowed as Harry’s eyes were traveling back and forth from her eyes to her lips. His hands still had hers arms pinned to her side so that she couldn’t move, though that seemed to make her realize that even though she wasn’t capable of movement, her mouth was still working.

“I said,” she began, “that you probably wanted me to get me alone.”

“Is that so Miss. Granger? Well then I can neither deny nor accept such an idea. Though I do have something in mind.”

“Oh? And what is that Mr. Potter?”

But whatever it is that Harry had in mind of doing Hermione never knew because at that moment a creak was heard somewhere in the house, meaning that someone was already awake and coming towards them. They broke away from each other immediately as if they were doing something they shouldn’t have, and even though that was partly true, neither of them wanted to admit it.

“Thanks Hermione,” he told her, and with a peck on the cheek, he turned towards the stairs and by taking them two and a time, he disappeared. Hermione, on the other hand, was left on her doorway staring into space as the spot of where he kissed her was burning. Knowing that they were both treading on a very thin line, she could suppress the toothy grin that overcame her face and so she entered the room quietly, closing it behind her.

A/N: Okay, here’s the second-last chapter of “The Gift Of Honesty”!! I hope you like it!! I haven’t been able to update yesterday because I had an accident that has slowed down my typing *cough*dog bit hand*cough* but I couldn’t stay away too long!! I enjoyed writing this chapter though it brought up some memories that were kind of bad for me, yet this helped me right it better =) Please R/R!!

Disclaimer: not mine … never will be ;)

Harry awoke around noon, with a huge grin plastered all over his face. ‘Did last night really happen?’ he wondered to himself, and he didn’t have to wait long for the confirmation as the funny feeling in his chest started building up again as soon as she thought about that delicious pumpkin pie.

A sudden swift of movement occurred and Harry realized that he wasn’t alone, subconsciously turning his head around towards Ron’s bed only to find that he had already got up. A burst of sunlight entered the room causing Harry to shut his eyes tightly at the brightness of it all, while in the background he heard the soft giggle of his brown-haired best friend.

“Get up, Harry!” he heard her say, “It’s almost 12 o’clock and Mrs. Weasley has been complaining all the day that you hadn’t had the chance to have breakfast so she sent me up here to get you.”

“’Stoobright,” was his reply, only that it came out as something between a mumble and a yawn.

“What?”

“It’s too bright,” he told her again, only this time slower and with a good articulation of the words.

“Yes well, it’s a thing called the ‘sun’ that comes out in daylight,” she teased him, and he immediately caught the hint that she was talking about his last night roam in the house. ‘So it really did happen,’ he mused to himself, and he couldn’t help the smile that was beginning to form on his lips.

“And what exactly are we smiling about, Mr. Potter?” Hermione asked him, as she turned around with mock indignation and arms akimbo. ‘Two can play this game, Granger,’ he wickedly thought to himself, and a strange glint appeared in his eyes. He sat up on his bed and pretended to sigh out a sigh of frustration, running a hand through his unruly, black hair and was silent for a moment. Finally, he looked up to see two caramel-coloured eyes filled with apprehension, causing him to twinge a little but decided to go through it nevertheless.

“Do you really want to know?” he asked, and once he saw Hermione nod furiously, he waved at her to come closer. She didn’t need to be told again, and without a second thought she sat dangerously close to him on the bed. It took Harry a few moments before he could gather up his thoughts, but once he did he acted on them.

He jumped out of the bed as if he was flying on his Firebolt at top speed and at the same time he flung out one of his arms, thus catching Hermione around her middle and throwing her onto the bed. Without giving her any time to react, he began tickling her without showing any mercy while her screams and giggles could be heard all over the Burrow.

It was one of those times that teenagers needed in order to get rid of the stress and worry that seemed to be dominating in their lives. In this small fraction of time, it didn’t matter that Harry, Hermione and Ron weren’t going to return to Hogwarts because they needed to go in search of the Horcruxes. It didn’t matter that there was a Dark Wizard on the loose trying to murder Harry because of some prophecy. It didn’t matter that the tension was so thick in the house that it could be cut with a knife, every time a person from the Order made an appearance.

Hermione was desperately trying to escape from Harry’s tickles but to no avail as his grip on her was too strong.

“And that’s why, Miss. Granger, I was smiling,” he informed her with a triumphant look on his face, as if managing to tickle her was a huge success. Tears were streaming down her face from all the laughing that had just occurred, and only managed to nod her head slightly in response to what Harry had just said.

“Please,” she started telling him and in between breaths, “let me recompose myself.” When he gave her a ‘yeah-right’ looked she continued pleading, “Come on Harry, what will the Weasleys think if I went downstairs looking like this after I was in your room?” and once she saw his eyebrows getting lost in his hairline, she gave him a trademark look that she reserved only for the occasions that she was right (which was nearly all the time) and when she left other people speechless. It served its purpose and Harry loosened his hold on her but all of a sudden he found that the tables had turned on him.

Hermione acted rather quickly when she felt Harry letting her go from his grip and using that to her advantage she overturned him so that he was lying on the bed.

“Where’s that constant vigilance that Mad Eye Moony had taught us?” she asked him, her voice filled with tease, “Pay-back time Harry,” she barely finished her sentence when she started tickling him everywhere she knew that he was ticklish. As she couldn’t quite reach his neck, she hesitated only for a moment before climbing on him and straddling him, which worked fine as he was less capable of movement. They were both so caught up with each other and so focused in winning the other, that neither of them heard the footsteps that were climbing the stairs towards them. In fact, it was the owner of the footsteps that had interrupted them early in the morning!

“Admit it, I won!” Hermione was trying to get Harry to admit that she was better in tickling him than he could ever be, but it seemed that he wouldn’t have any of it.

“Never!” he retorted and continued struggling to get out of Hermione’s grip, which proved to be fruitless between their laughing.

“What is going on here?” a stern voice made both of them look up in surprise, immediately causing their cheeks to flush with red as they realized how their position must look, “Hermione, I sent you up here to wake up Harry and bring him downstairs so that he could eat something before lunch,” Mrs. Weasley scolded Hermione, whilst at the same time trying to conceal her smile as the two teenagers tried to scramble out of the bed and as far from each other as they could.

“I’m sorry Mrs. Weasley, but Harry needed to be taught a lesson as he thought he could win me.”

“Oh? Is that so?” Mrs. Weasley turned towards Harry and waited for his explanation. Harry and Hermione visibly relaxed when they saw the kind and humourous look that was written on her face.

“Eerr… yeah, don’t blame Hermione, Mrs. Weasley, it was my fault.”

“I guess that you all need this at such a time. I have eggs and bacon saved for you in the oven Harry. You can eat it once you’re ready and have come downstairs,” and with that, Mrs. Weasley left the room but kept the door wide open in any case.

“Well,” Hermione started, “I’ll see you downstairs then Harry.”

“Okay,” he replied, and as soon as she was out of sight he began to get dressed. ‘Now that was embarrassing,’ he thought, ‘what if she tells Ron? Or worse, Ginny?’ his mind began to make up different scenarios of what would be the outcome of such a thing, and he could feel his heart pumping blood at maximum speed. So fast, actually, that he was beginning to feel a bit light-headed. Steadying himself on his cherry-coloured chest of drawers, he mentally chastised himself for going overboard with his imagination. ‘Everything will be fine,’ he kept repeating to himself.

Once he arrived downstairs, he stopped at the entrance of the kitchen and took in the sight that was before him. Ron and Hermione were sitting together on the couch, talking about something that clearly was meant to be kept between them, while Ginny was shooting strange glances at them in between bites from her plate. As soon as her eye caught Harry, however, she let out a not-so-discreet cough that made Ron and Hermione jump.

“Hi Harry,” / “’Morning mate” was the two Weasley’s greeting, whereas Hermione gave him a soft smile with her eyes bursting from happiness that could be read a hundred miles away. ‘So,’ Harry began thinking, ‘she was talking to Ron and now she’s clearly very happy. I see,’ he trailed off, suddenly his hunger forgotten but took out the plate from the over nonetheless, as he didn’t want to make Mrs. Weasley worry about him any more than was necessary or was doing at the moment.

As he sat down next to Ginny, her scent made its way up Harry’s nostrils, making him remember how good she smelled when they were dating. Entering a dream world, he didn’t notice the glare that Hermione sent his way once she saw that he started staring into space right after he sat next to Ginny. Waving a hand in front of him she said,

“Harry? Earth to Harry…”

“Huh? What?” he replied, shaking his head in order for his thought to be cleared, “I’m sorry, did you say something because I wasn’t listening,” he told her and was glad to see that his stab didn’t go unnoticed by Hermione.

She felt warm tears prickling the corner of her eyes and her bottom lip began to tremble, though she couldn’t understand why this would happen now of all times.

“I… nothing,” she mumbled, and averted her eyes from Harry, taking sudden interest at the white tablecloth in front of her. Harry felt bad at once when he saw what his words had done to her, but couldn’t think of a single thing to say to her to make her feel right. The scene that would soon play out in front of him, made him regret saying that to Hermione even more.

“Hermione” Ron started saying, obviously nervous about talking to her, “do you want to go for a walk outside?” he finished, his face as red as his fire-red hair, but clearly pleased with himself for managing not to stutter and just say it.

“Sure,” she replied with a defeated voice, though her eyes held a knowing look. Harry eyed them suspiciously, though none of them gave him the satisfaction of looking at him and feeling anxious. Instead, they walked outside together where they stayed until the early afternoon.

Meanwhile, Harry decided that he really needed to be alone, brushing off Ginny when she asked him if he wanted to talk. He went to the very top of the Burrow where the veranda was located, that held the view of the Burrow’s forest. It had been a while since he had time for himself without any interruptions. He supposed that he liked it better when he had friends surrounding him, something he had learned the tough way during his life. Being nearly of age, he had gone through things that most people didn’t go through in their lifetime, and that made him a bit wiser on subjects like life and friendship and companionship. After Sirius and Dumbledore’s death, he came to the conclusion that no matter how hard he tried to push people away from him or closed himself off; people will always care for him. He wouldn’t give Voldermort the satisfaction of knowing that he was alone and emotionally weak by being by himself with no-one to confide to or have any emotional support. ‘Love,’ he thought. If he learned anything from his two best friends was that love was the greatest thing on this earth and the only thing that will help him defeat Voldermort. It was the kind of love that he had for them, where he knew he would gladly sacrifice himself so that they could live on.

He was taken out of his train of thoughts when he saw two figures – one with flaming red hair and the other’s was colour auburn – in the distance returning from their walk. It seemed that Ron was walking ahead of Hermione and in a hurry as well. All of a sudden Harry began to feel dizzy, and immediately realized that Hermione was going through an emotional turmoil at this very moment. He didn’t know how he knew this, but he felt weird, as if he was going through the same thing that Hermione was going through yet it felt like he was having an out-of-body experience. Carefully getting up so as not to cause himself a head rush, he walked as fast as he could back downstairs and out into the garden before giving Hermione the chance to enter the Burrow. As Ron passed in front of him, he paused for only a second, but it was enough to see the look on his face which was dipped in comprehension and peacefulness.

Closing the door behind him, he took Hermione by the hand and led her to a few chairs that had been left after the wedding. They both sat down without any questions, yet neither of them dared to break the silence that had engulfed them. It was clearer to Harry now that she was in touching distance, that something was very wrong with her, as his feelings grew only stronger. Kneeling in front of her, he put one hand on her shoulder; an action that surprised her and allowed her to have eye contact with him.

“I’m sorry about before,” he told her honestly, feeling compelled that he should apologise first before getting into another conversation.

“Then why did you say it?” she asked, her eyes filled with pain, making Harry slap him mentally once again at the idiotic thing he had said.

“I don’t know Hermione, I really don’t.”

“Well that’s not good enough now is it?”

Harry got up and started pacing in front of her, “look, I really don’t know what got into me, but I’m trying to apologise to you. At least accept it; please don’t stay mad at me. I don’t know if I can stand it,” he finished and took in a huge amount of air as he had said that sentence with one breath.

“I won’t hide the fact that what you said hurt but I accept your apology Harry,” she told him, and was happy to see the smile forming on his lips. Not being to contain herself, she opened her arms and he was gladly gathered up in them, both of them content just to be in that hug that seemed to last for a while. Burrowing his head in her stomach – she was still sitting on the chair while Harry had knelt, once again, in front of her – he took in her scent that seemed to be consisting of vanilla and summer. This seemed to create a realization for Harry that dawned on him like a ton of bricks. Tightening his arms around her waist, he once again mumbled an apology that only resulted in Hermione stroking his hair and trying to tell him that it didn’t matter anymore.

After a while, the two of them parted and Harry brought up a chair so that he could sit next to her, while silence hung in the air. However, it wasn’t an uncomfortable one, as they were simply enjoying the small joys of life as was this one; sitting with your best friend outside in the garden and watching nature take its course. Harry took a chance and glanced sideways at Hermione who seemed to be lost in her thoughts and so he took the chance to ask a question that had been etching away at him for the better part of his stay at the Burrow.

“Is something the matter?” he simply blurted out, causing Hermione to wince visibly at the question that he had just posed. She didn’t answer instantly, but merely stared up at the sky-blue that held the royal sun in its sea. If Harry hadn’t seen her react to his question, he would start doubting that she had even heard him, but he didn’t say anything. Patience was one more thing that he learned and so he decided to wait her out, rewarded when she appeared about to answer him.

“Do you ever think about the future, Harry?” whatever he was expecting for an answer, it surely wasn’t that and so he was obviously flabbergasted. It was his turn to be silent for a few moments until he assembled his train of thought concerning this subject.

“I do,” he answered her truthfully, “I don’t want to because I don’t know if I ever get the chance to have a future, but sometimes I can’t help myself,” he turned himself on the chair so that he was sitting sideways on it yet facing Hermione and continued, “Yesterday at the wedding, I caught myself wondering if I will ever have a wedding, or if I’ll ever have the joy of having children.” Hermione was listening to him intently but made no action of interrupting him, encouraging Harry to continue, “I always pictured myself having an outdoor wedding on an evergreen hill with everyone that I know being present. It would be a small ceremony and the press wouldn’t know about it because I don’t want a big fuss, but I do everyone that I know to be there and be happy for us.” He paused a bit and looked at the horizon, as if his dream was hidden somewhere in there. He turned and saw Hermione’s eyes covered with a thin sheet of tears, and he was surprised when he found that he wasn’t embarrassed opening his heart to her, and so he went on with his story – his dream, “I also want to live in a cottage and have 3 children with a dog and cat,” he chuckled a bit before going on, “I always like the name ‘Jack’ for a dog, even though it’s common, and ‘Amy’ for a cat. The dog will preferably be a Golden Retriever and it will always be happy and playing with my children, yet when it needs to protect us it will do so.”

“What about your children? How will they be?” Hermione asked gingerly, not wanting to intrude on his dream but also eager to find out his deeper thoughts.

“Well, I always imagined having a girl as a first-born and then a boy. And as for the third child, I always liked the idea of adopting a child that isn’t as fortunate.”

“That’s very kind of you Harry, but I guess that’s just who you are,” Hermione told him, and as soon as he heard those words, he felt elated at the fact that she was being honest with him, praising him and not laughing at his fantasy, “Have you given any thought about what job you want to take?”

“Well, I guess everyone is expecting me to become an Auror but I just don’t know. Sure, I feel like I’m going to be doing something worthwhile if I become an Auror, but I’ve had enough with fighting the bad guys. I always toyed with the idea of becoming a Professor at Hogwarts after everything is over. I mean, I know that there’s a chance of Hogwarts not reopening this year, but I’ll make sure it will open after Voldermort is defeated, there’s no-way that I’m going to allow it to remain closed.”

“Defence against the Dark Arts?” Hermione asked, although it seemed that she already knew the answer to that.

“Yeah, it just seems - ” he was cut of by Hermione finishing off his thoughts,

“Appropriate that you would want to share you thoughts and knowledge with children so that they are aware of what they might encounter in their lives.”

“Exactly,” he told her, a look of awe in his eyes at how much she seemed to know him, “How-”

“Did I know that?” she smiled, “Being best friends for 6 years with you, I’d like to believe that I know you really well. I’m sure you feel the same way Harry,” she finished, looking a bit flushed but contented that she said it.

“I do feel the same way Hermione,” he told her, “I’m really lucky to have friends like you and Ron, I can’t think of anything that could top having such great friends,” he finished seriously, and Hermione bit back a sob. Neither knew what to say anymore, so they sat back in their chairs and just gazed at the horizon silently, lost in their thoughts. The silence was broken when Hermione came to the decision to ask Harry something that she couldn’t quite understand about him, even though she did have an opinion about it. It seemed that her internal battle whether or not to ask him showed on her face because Harry told her, “Just let it out,” and Hermione, with a genuine smile, felt optimistic.

“I don’t want you taking this the wrong way, but… sometimes I can’t understand you,” when she saw the bemused look on his face she tried to explain it better, “You see, sometimes you’re hot and then the next second you’re cold. Like today, when I came into the room you were more than happy to see me and we were getting along just fine, when all of a sudden in the kitchen you do a 180 turn and say harsh things. I just don’t understand it,” she concluded, giving Harry all the time he needed to find a decent answer.

“It looked as if you and Ron were cozy at that time,” he spat out, not intending it to sound as an innuendo but miserably failed.

“So we return to this?” she asked spitefully, “Couldn’t just trust me when I explained it to you last night, just had to take one more jab at it, didn’t you?” and with that, she got up from the chair and started walking back to the house, determined not to let Harry see how much she was affecting her. Determined not to let him see her cry after everything that she had gone through this past year; trying to forget about him although she hadn’t succeeded.

Harry was torn between running after her or letting her vent off, though he decided the former one was the best course of action. Getting up from the chair, he took four large strides and reached up to her, catching her arm and making spin round as she let out a gasp of surprise. He wasn’t taken aback when he saw the tears trickling down her face in a sad and slow river, and so he was able to get a firm grip on her, not allowing to go anywhere else until she heard him out.

“Yes Hermione,” he began, “we have returned to this because you didn’t trust me enough to tell me what’s going on between the two of you,” he put up a hand so that she couldn’t interrupt, “I’m not talking about last night, I’m talking about what I walked in this morning when I came into the kitchen. I saw you two talking in low whispers and when Ginny let out that cough you immediately stopped. Do you know how it feels to have your two best friends talking behind your back? I thought that you were talking about me and it hurt, I admit it, though what hurt most was the fact that you didn’t tell me about it.” He finished and when he looked up at see Hermione, he was surprised to find anger hiding behind those caramel pools. It was so radiant that he could actually feel the anger radiating off her.

“You are a bastard Harry,” and Harry saw her free hand coming towards his cheek a second too late. Hermione tried to get free but Harry didn’t let her, if anything that slap made his resolve even stronger so he just held on tighter, despite the fact that his cheek was stinging as hell. ‘Could it be that only this morning we were carefree and not angry at each other?’ he couldn’t help but wonder. “How dare you say that I don’t trust you enough?” Hermione said, “How dare you say that when last night I told you things that I haven’t told anyone? How insensitive are you?”

These words seemed to shock Harry so much that he let go, giving Hermione the chance that she needed to break free. Taking one step back, she looked at him sadly and shook her head, whilst murmuring ever-so-quietly, “Maybe taking the easy way out is better…” trailing off as she began walking back to the Burrow. When those words registered in Harry’s mind, he made the connection and anger boiled up inside of him, making him shout out,

“Maybe you’re right!” Hermione was stopped in mid-track, turning around and pointing a finger at Harry.

“Don’t pretend that you know what I’m talking about because you have no clue!” she practically yelled at him, but Harry wasn’t fazed. Instead, he shouted right back at her,

“Then enlighten me Hermione! What is so hard about it?”

“Loving you so much is so bloody hard!”

A/N: last chapter! I hope it’s what you guys expect ;) The song is one of my all time favourites, Foolish Games by Jewel!

You took your coat off and stood in the rain,

You were always crazy like that

I watched from my window,

Always felt I was outside looking in on you

You were always the mysterious one

With dark eyes and careless hair,

You were fashionably sensitive, but too cool to care

You stood in my doorway, with nothing to say

Besides some comment on the weather

Well in case you failed to notice,

In case you failed to see,

This is my heart bleeding before you,

This is me down on my knees

These foolish games are tearing me apart

Your thoughtless words are breaking my heart

You’re breaking my heart

“Loving you is so bloody hard!”

Those words seemed to echo in his mind as if she had come right up to him and bellowed them in his ear. His eyes were wide open and his eyebrows had shot up in surprise when he finally comprehended what she told him.

She, on the other hand, brought up a hand to cover her mouth as she let out a shocked “oh” when the realization of what she had just done dawned on her. ‘This can’t be happening,’ she began to think frantically; ‘I can’t believe that after so much time of trying to hide it, I finally let it out. Damn you Hermione for being weak,’ she mentally reprimanded herself, while anger and disappointment filled her. She was so lost in her thoughts that she didn’t notice Harry clumsily grab the chair that they had been sitting on mere moment ago, and sit on it as if he was in a daze. His words seemed to do the trick as her attention was focused back on him,

“You – you love me?” he stuttered, as if he couldn’t believe that such a fact could be true, ‘Hermione Jane Granger,’ his conscious mind began thinking, ‘you’re best friend for six years loving you?’ ‘Is that so hard to believe?’ the subconscious part of his mind butted in. Come to think of it, he hadn’t given it that much thought so that he knew what he did and didn’t believe. However, his mind began to think of all the things that had occurred between the two of them this past week; from the pumpkin pie escapade to just now when they had that heart to heart talk about the future. ‘It all adds up doesn’t it?’ he thought, yet his facial expression remained expressionless as the full weight of what was going on hadn’t settled in just yet.

“Harry?” Hermione’s tentative voice brought him out of his daydream and making him take a good look at her face. She had fear written all over her, as if her sudden revelation would have devastating effects on the both of them and their friendship, “Oh damn me!” she said frustrated, causing Harry to take a double-take as he had never heard her swear before, “One weak moment and look where it got us!”

“No, Hermione,” he told her quietly and got up from his spot on the chair, closing in on Hermione, “you weren’t being weak, you just exploded from all the emotions that you were feeling and had bottled up inside of you for so long. I should know, after all, you were the one who was telling me these past years not to keep everything inside and just express myself, but I didn’t and I distinctively remember occasions when I just vended off at anyone who happened to be in front at that unfortunate time,” he finished with a slight smile, hoping that she wouldn’t be scared off and run back inside. It seemed to do the trick as she managed to crack a small smile at him and take the chair that he had previously occupied and sat. A heavy, uncomfortable silence fell between them and neither of them knew how to break it. However, after a long period of just staring at their feet, Hermione decided that she should tell Harry the truth that she had kept hidden for so long.

“I guess I should start at the beginning huh,” it wasn’t a question but rather a statement so that it was easier for her to start talking. Harry nodded and at the same time he dropped down on the grass so that he was sitting opposite her and cross-legged. Hermione cleared her throat and commenced at once, “I think it was right before you were about to go and face Quirrel in our first year that I knew you were going to be someone very special in my life. We were only 11 years old then so I couldn’t possibly know what love was, but I knew that I had this strange force pulling me towards you, though I couldn’t figure out what it was. Then in our second year that basilisk had attacked me, putting me out of the battle yet when you saved Ginny and I came halfway through the feast, I was so proud that you figured out what my clue meant. I felt that I was somehow important to you, since you trusted me enough to take what I had written on that piece of parchment and make sense out of it,” here Harry interrupted her so that he could say,

“But you are important to me Hermione!”

“Please,” she informed him, “just let me finish and then you can say whatever you want,” the pleading look on her face caused Harry’s heart to clench ( ‘Now why would it do that?’ ) so he granted her the silence that she wanted, smiling at him and moving on, “Third year came and went but not before we had the chance on flying on Buckbeak so that we could save Sirius. I remember being so scared but holding you felt so right to me, like I was being protected by the strongest person on earth. I felt safe with you up there, and I knew that I wasn’t going to harmed or fall off the side,” she let out a sad chuckle but continued nevertheless, “At the end of that year, I started thinking you as someone who was more than a friend to me.”

Harry’s eyes widened at this apocalypse as the realization of her having romantic feelings for him for nearly 3 years now came to him at full impact. However, he didn’t dare butt in her confession, allowing her to keep going.

“Fourth and fifth year were somewhat the same, as in both years I had other people trying to tell you and the rest of the school that we were either going out or had feelings for each other. I admit that I was so frightened that you were going to get scared and keep your distance from me but on the other hand I was hoping that you would realize that they were true, that way you might start seeing me as someone more than a best friend.”

It was at this moment when Harry’s head was filled with faces of Cho, Rita Skeeter and Viktor Krum telling and asking him if there was something going on between Hermione and himself. He had so vigorously told them that they were simply best friends, not knowing how much it must have been hurting Hermione listening to these defenses and backing him up, ‘I’ve been such an awful friend to her,’ he thought sadly. It was as if Hermione had read his mind because she chose that moment to say,

“Don’t think that it was your fault, you couldn’t have known how I felt,” she gave him a reassuring smile and moved on, “Still, it hurt to listen to those words come out of your mouth. Nevertheless, I forced myself to put your wellbeing and happiness over mind. I had to make sure that when you faced Voldemort, you would come out victorious. The world needed you to be safe and so did I, so I put my feelings aside and tried in every way that I could to help you,” she paused so that she could take a breather and to also recompose her thoughts as the most difficult part of her heartfelt confession was going to be the next one.

Harry seemed to have sensed this as he moved closer to her so that when he looked up, he would be directly looking at her eyes that now held a hint of disappointment and sadness. Despite the fact that he was trying desperately to think of something to say to her so that she could feel better, he wasn’t successful as she began to tell the tale of their 6^th year, which was the year that had just passed.

“And so 6^th year came – not one of the best years that I have had at Hogwarts, I admit,” and she looked down to see him nodded and agreeing with her. Feeling her stomach doing a flip-flop from joy, she willed herself to go on and not to keep stealing glances of him as she was explaining her feelings to him, “I had vowed to myself that I should try and forget about you as nothing would ever happen between us. To you, I was your female best friend that had the brains and would always be there to help you no matter what. I wasn’t Cho Chang, prettiest girl in the school or Ginny Weasley, Quidditch player and feisty sister of Ron’s best friend. I was, and am, Hermione Granger, best friend from Harry Potter and Ron Weasley.”

Harry winced a bit at this, as he realized that he really did take her for granted that she would always be there for him. Never once did he think of what she might be feeling and why she was always being so willing to help him. He couldn’t believe how stupid he had been. Here he was, all this time thinking that he was being treated unfair by the world, thinking that his problems were the worse; he didn’t once stop to think that maybe Hermione was going through a harder ordeal. Of course, he always treasured the fact that he had Ron and Hermione in his life. ‘Seriously, I would give my life for them,’ he thought, nodding his head in agreement with his silent thought.

“And so, I decided that I should keep my distance from you this year, not as a friend but as seeing you as something more,” Hermione continued, resulting in Harry snapping his head up once more so that he could show her that he was listening carefully to what she was saying, “I started spending more time with Ron and fighting more frequently with Ginny. I - ” she began, but found that her throat was clogged up and her eyes began to well up with tears. Not wanting Harry to see her cry, she brought up her left hand and used the sleeve of her shirt to wipe the tears away before they escaped down her face.

“Ron was showing such jealousy whenever he would find us spending time together or when other boys showed an interest to them, that I thought I should try getting involved with him since you were clearly enamored by Ginny. Remember when I told you last night about what was right and what was easy?” she asked, waiting for him to acknowledge this so that she could move on, “Well Ron was the easy way out. However, we didn’t even have the chance of getting together as it was clear to me that there was no future for us. We were too different and we fought all the time. Honestly, do you know how tiring it is for a girl to keep fighting with her boyfriend? It’s not healthy,” she said, trying to make a joke which actually worked as Harry let out a laugh but her eyes betrayed the sadness that she was feeling.

“I just couldn’t do it Harry,” she confessed, and at this point her voice broke as the tears that she had been holding back for so long started to pour down her face. She took no action in wiping them away as she knew more were to come from her caramel pools. “I couldn’t put my feelings aside and I surely couldn’t hide the fact that I loved you anymore. I couldn’t pretend that they weren’t there because they were, and if anything they were stronger than ever before. Try as I might in hiding them and trying to find a diversion for them, they were always there nagging at my brain for trying to overrule my heart. We’re nearly 17 years olds Harry!” she told him, “we’re not 11 and naïve anymore. I’m at an age where I can tell the difference from an infatuation and love, despite my immature acts this past year where I tried to forget about you. You’re just someone who can’t be forgotten about Harry, you’re just too special,” she concluded, not able to continue anymore as she felt that her heart couldn’t take anymore of this pain and humiliation of confessing her love to him as he blankly stared at her.

Harry’s mind was trying to process everything that she had told him, that he was silent for quite a long period of time. It wasn’t that he didn’t feel the same thing, he just didn’t have the time to think and analyse their friendship and what a relationship with each other could mean for the trio. Come to think of it, he always did have a special bond with Hermione that had deep roots in both of their hearts. It wasn’t a friendship that you come across everyday, one that is filled with trust, loyalty and faith in each other and have a basis of love. He was replaying everything that she had just told him in mind again, along with scenes from the last 6 years that he had known her and it was as if a puzzle was coming together. Little bits of pieces that held precious moments and details all came together to form the larger picture of love.

Harry was dumbfounded to say the least and actually he was so surprised that he made no movement to show her that he had realized what she confessed and how he felt about her. Sadly, Hermione took this to mean that he didn’t have any romantic feelings for and just didn’t know how to tell her without damaging their friendship; of course, being Hermione Granger meant that you put your happiness second and think of everyone else, and this is what she was going to do,

“You don’t have to say anything Harry,” she held up a hand in order for him to understand that she didn’t want to be interrupted, with the classic look on her face that dared anyone not to listen to her, “I understand what you’re thinking and I will make this easier for you. I won’t mention this to anyone and I will try to put it behind me, no matter how hard it will be. I’m not saying that I can get over my feelings for you, but I will try not to act on them again. Our friendship is too important to me to let it get destroyed by my ranting. If I can’t have your love as a soul mate, then I’m lucky to have your love as a best friend and as someone who will always be there for you,” and with that, she got off them chair, leaning down to kiss Harry on the cheek and walked off. Before she got too far however, she muttered a phrase that made his heart tighten,

“Harry, when you were describing you ideal wedding to me, I couldn’t help but think of my fantasy that was taking place in a similar environment as yours. Only, my groom had a face and it was you,”

Harry didn’t know how long he sat out there after she was gone, but when he suddenly felt a cold breeze hitting his sides, he realized that it was night and that he should probably be getting inside. He didn’t want the Weasleys to get worried. While walking back to the house, he couldn’t help but think of what Hermione had said. It was one of those moments where your brain just stops thinking and you feel that you are at a loss of what to say. Deep down, he knew that he loved her more than a best friend but he just didn’t know how to express it. When you grow up with the Dursleys, you don’t actually get taught of what true love really is. However, when he would sit up late at nights and skim through his parents’ photo album, he could see the love that they had for each other in their eyes.

“In their eyes,” he muttered to himself, smacking himself mentally at what a fool he has been. It was the same look that Hermione had been holding in her eyes whenever she looked at him and he was just too blind to see it. With a new determination in him, he broke into a dash and entered the Weasley’s kitchen in such haste that he didn’t see Mrs. Weasley, the result being crashing into her. What he also didn’t notice was a figure standing and looking down at him through the window, wiping their tears away as he left from sight.

“Harry! Watch where you’re going! And where have you been young man?” Mrs. Weasley demanded, and Harry felt a bit intimidated by her. Taking a gulp of air, he answered as best as he could,

“I was outside having a talk with Hermione,”

“Hermione has returned from your chair over an hour ago, what kept you?”

“I was just thinking some things over, Mrs. Weasley,” he told her vaguely, hoping that she wouldn’t continue this interrogation. It seemed that his wish was granted as she relaxed and told him,

“We’ve already had dinner but I saved you a plate. Do you want me to heat it up for you?” she asked kindly, his disappearance quickly forgotten. Even though he hadn’t eaten since lunch, Harry didn’t feel hungry and turned her offer down, quickly going up the stairs to the girls’ room. However, he met a dead end when Ginny came out of the room once he knocked, and informed him that Hermione didn’t want to talk to anyone now.

“Please Ginny,” he begged, “I really need to talk to her,” and was pleased with himself when he saw compassion in Ginny’s eyes.

“Harry, even though we aren’t going out anymore it doesn’t mean that I don’t love you in a brotherly way but it also doesn’t mean that I’m going to put Hermione’s feelings aside so that you can talk to her. She clearly stated that she doesn’t want to talk to anyone now. Please don’t intrude in her private space; she needs to be alone now. It isn’t easy when a girl pours out her heart to someone. Give her time, talk to her tomorrow. I promise you things will be much easier then.”

Even though he still had half a mind to go in there, he decided that he should respect Hermione’s wishes and so he retreated to his room. He flopped onto the bed, not bothering to change. Thoughts were entering and exiting his mind at high speed, though the conclusion he came to every time was the same. He didn’t actually realize just how tired he was and so he casually drifted off to sleep.

He woke up the next day around 11 and saw that Ron was still sleeping in the bed next to him. Deciding not to wake him up just yet, he made his way to the bathroom so that he could take a shower. Once the cold water hit his body, he found that he immediately relaxed and his thoughts weren’t as jumbled as they were yesterday. He finished rather quickly and when he entered the room that he shared with Ron, he found him sitting on his bed.

“Morning,” Harry greeted him, a dashing grin to go along with it.

“What are you so happy about?” Ron mumbled, as he was in a grumpy mood.

“Well, it’s not everyday that a guy turns 17 right?” he informed him, his grin getting wider as a look of realization came on Ron’s face.

“OH mate! I’m so sorry, it’s just that I just woke up and… Oh bloody hell, happy birthday Harry!” Ron told him, his spirits suddenly higher. Harry thanked him and told him that he’d be downstairs if he needed him.

“Err, wait for me will you? Just let me change into some clothes and I’ll be down with you in a moment,” even though he found this rather strange, he went along with it as he wasn’t about to let anything ruin his mood today. In reality, he had two things to be happy about today. One, it was his seventeenth birthday and two, he was going to have a chat with Hermione that will hopefully end in a bright note.

“Ready,” Ron informed him, and Harry could have sworn that he was being extremely cheerful for Ron. It wasn’t that he wasn’t a happy bloke, it’s just that Ron isn’t the morning type. If he had to say the truth it’s –

“SURPRISE!!!!” it took a minute for him to realize what was going on, but when the full effect kicked in, his hand immediately rushed up to his mouth to cover his mouth that had his jaw hanging dangerously. What happened next was like a domino, as a chorus of ‘happy birthday’ was going round, people coming up and giving him hugs. When Hermione came to wish him, he could have sworn that he felt a bolt of electricity shooting through him and he was fairly certain that she had felt it too by the shocked looked on her face when they parted.

He was very surprised at everyone who had managed to come to his surprise party. Even though this year had dampened everyone’s mood, they hadn’t failed to show up, showing him that no matter what happened in life there are always good things to look forward to. If you don’t have that, then you have nothing left. People from his year at Hogwarts came to wish him and even some that were a year older or younger. He had spotted Luna at the back and Katie Bell talking animatedly with the Weasley twins.

Once the first greetings were said, the party was in full swing and Harry really felt that he was having fun. He could pretend just for today that he wasn’t a target of a madman but rather he was just a normal 17-year-old boy who was celebrating his birthday. Try as he might, he couldn’t seem to locate Hermione in the crowd as every time he tried to look for her another person came up and talked to him, wanting to find out how he was doing and how his summer was. No-one dared to ask the thing that was on their minds, as this day was one of happiness.

At last, he spotted his bushy-haired friend talking, or rather listening, to Luna’s ramblings but just about as he was going to tap her shoulder, Mrs. Weasley’s voice could be heard as if it was magically amplified, ‘obviously it was as she is a witch,’ his mind informed him rather ironically.

“It’s time for cake everyone!” and that was the signal that everyone had been waiting for so that they could break into a chorus of,

Happy birthday to you

Happy birthday to you

Happy birthday dear Harry,

Happy birthday to you!!

He bent down in front of the table that held the cake, ready to blow out the candles when he heard a voice call out,

“Make a wish!”

Laughing out, he silently made a wish and then blew out the candles with only one breath. Everyone erupted into applause and he felt giddy as though he was a young child having a real birthday party.

Once everyone had eaten their cake, the party was back on and chatter filled up the place as music floated into the air. Harry began distressing as he realized that he might not have the chance to talk to Hermione tonight, and that it might have to wait until tomorrow. But then again, he was Harry Potter and whenever an idea came to him he would follow it through. He went up to George who was, apparently, taking music requests and whispered a song in his ear. When he saw the confused look on his face he made a motion with his hand to show him that he’ll be right back.

Running back upstairs, he opened Ginny’s chest of drawers where he knew Hermione kept her CDs and chose the one that he had been looking for. As he was about to leave, he thought he should better take the small stereo with him as he wasn’t sure if the Wireless could actually play any Muggle CDs. He returned downstairs and instructed George to play the song and showed him how to operate it. George gave him the thumbs up and a sly grin to go along with it.

When he heard the familiar strings of music float through the air, he felt his heart start racing a marathon as he suddenly felt very nervous. Letting out a breath, he began walking towards Hermione where she was talking with Lavender. Tapping her on the shoulders ( ‘You’re hands are trembling!’ ) she whirled round to see who it was, and when she realized it was Harry her eyes lit up as if a light had switched on inside of her. However, they were replaced by bemusement as Harry didn’t talk to her to tell her what he wanted.

“What is it, Harry?” she asked, and Harry was saddened to hear that her voice was made up of misery and confusion. He didn’t let that hold him back as he showed her his hand, which is the international gesture for asking someone to dance. Hermione merely looked at him, and for a second thought that she would reject him but when he saw her smile, he breathed out a sigh of relief.

Taking her hands and guiding them around his neck, he was pleased to see that she was trembling too even though she hadn’t made any movements to get away from him, which he took to be encouraging. He slipped his own arms around her waist, and for a moment they simply danced silently to the slow song that was filling the air. The silence, however, made them look into the other’s eyes, trying to extract whatever information they needed in order to start a conversation. It was at this moment when Harry realized that Hermione always looked at him as if she could see and read his soul, as she had a look of comprehension on her face, her eyes begging him to let her enter it. They were so deep with emotion that Harry couldn’t believe what a fool he had been for such a long time. ‘You, my friend, are one lucky guy,’ he thought, and he really was. He didn’t know anyone else who had such a great friend as Hermione, waiting for him to come to his sense and realize what he felt for her. No matter how hard it had been for her to see him being so dense, she didn’t give up and merely waited.

“Hermione,” he started, “I have to tell you something,” and when he saw her nod hesitantly he continued, “When you were talking yesterday about me, all I could think of was what a great friend I have.” When he saw her eyes being averted from him, he took one of his hand and put a finger under her chin, so that he could tilt her head up towards him, forcing her to look back at him. It worked, so Harry was encouraged to keep talking as he might never have another chance at doing so, “A great friend that has always been there for me, no matter how dense. Never once did I question your loyalty and your faith in me, because I knew that you were there for me no matter what. Not even back in fourth year when Ron doubted me, you stuck by me even though it gave people enough rope to trash you. I could start talking about how much you mean to me but we would be stuck here forever, but whatever I’ll say will pale in comparison to what you really mean to me. Forgive me Hermione,” but Hermione didn’t have the chance to ask what he was asking her to forgive her about as she felt his lips crash onto hers.

It wasn’t the typical first kiss that you see in movies where it’s slow, gentle and sweet. This was rather desperate as if Harry was trying to show her how much she meant to him, and he tried to pour all of his feelings into that one first kiss. She was shocked at first, and somewhere in the back of her mind she could feel all of the eyes resting on the both of them but she found that she didn’t care. Snapping out of her surprise, she allowed herself to enjoy the kiss when she felt Harry’s tongue begging for entrance to her mouth by running his tongue onto her bottom lip.

She could feel the butterflies in her stomach flying about, but she could also feel Harry’s warm hands on her waist. She tightened her hold around his neck and at the same time allowing his the entrance that was begging for. That was all they needed for their tongues to start dancing together as they tasted each other for the first time. Harry pulled her even closer to him as if he couldn’t get enough of her, but the need for air forced them to pull apart.

Once they did, they simply looked at each other and they finally gave each other their most heartfelt smile that they saved just for them. It was as if they had a secret smile to share and this was one of the many times to come that they did. It felt so right to them, like everything was happening just the way it was supposed to.

“I’m sorry it took me so long Hermione, but a guy can be rather thick when the girl that he loves is involved and I really do love you but it took you to - ” he was interrupted by Hermione widening her eyes and asking him to repeat what he just said. He gave her a lopsided grin that made her heart melt, and leaning closer to her he whispered,

“I love you,” and with that he gave her a quick peck on the lips, whilst cupping her face in his two hands. As the song was dying down, he let one of his hands trail to his neck and hold her petite hand, in comparison to his, lacing their fingers together. Hermione had tears in her eyes as she couldn’t believe that after all those years of waiting and wishing, her world was finally coming together. The person she needed most in her life was there for her and suddenly it didn’t matter anymore what she had gone through to get here. Ever so softly, she used her free hand to massage Harry’s cheek and whisper,

“My Harry…”

Á/Í: I admit, maybe I ended it a bit lame but it’s nearly 2AM here and I seriously wanted to get this story done! I actually had fun writing this and I came to realize that it’s not how many reviews you get, but how much fun *I* had in writing this :) And I hope that you had just as much fun in reading it :) Hopefully, I have matured as a writer!!! Keep loving people and have fun in your life ;) neni =)