Tales of a Broken Heart

"Hermione? What are you doing? It's late. Why aren't you asleep? You need to get some rest.” Harry was startled by the sudden appearance of his best friend at the foot of the girls' staircase.

`Damn him and his sweet disposition,' Hermione thought. “I should ask you the same, Harry.”

“I-I couldn't sleep" Harry stuttered. Hermione suddenly realized the only reason Harry would be awake at this untimely hour. He had a nightmare about Sirius. Ever since his death Harry had become more distant with her and Ron. He hardly ever talked anymore; all his time was spent sulking in self pity and guilt.

`You know, Harry, it's not your fault,' she tried to say it out loud, but her voice was just too weak. Her whole body was weak from crying over her worry for the young man sitting in front of her. Hermione weakly sat down next to him on the couch in front of the almost dead fire, rubbing his back slightly. She felt him stiffen at her touch. “It- it's not your... fault. He would have wanted to go like that; he was fighting for a good cause. He was fighting to--save your life--”

As soon as those words left her mouth she knew she had gone over the line. Harry's brilliant emerald eyes flared with fury. “So it is my fault, huh? He--died--because I had been too thick to realize Voldemort had tricked me,” his voice shook with. He pulled away from, angry tears welling up in his eyes. Hermione felt all her strength slipping away slowly with each word Harry said, each move he made.

“Harry! Please! It's not your fault--”

“You just said--”

“Forget what I just said! I--I didn't mean it,” Hermione tried to calm him down. She felt hot tears slide down her face. She hated to see Harry like this. He looked so ... lost, so helpless. Hermione wanted to do anything in her power to take that pain away. She wanted the Harry she fell in love with back.

“It was exactly what you meant,” he spat back. She heard a hint of hatred in his voice. Oh Merlin! `Does Harry hate me now?' Hermione thought, dreading the worst. Harry's voice tore her out of her thoughts as he said coldly, “I should have listened to you that night.”

“What do you mean?” What had she said to him? For once in her life, Hermione was completely lost.

“You tried to tell me not to go to the Department of Mysteries. You told me Voldemort was trying to trick me. You said I have a `saving people thing'.”

Hermione gave him an understanding look. It suddenly dawned on her why Harry felt so guilty. She, herself, felt a sting of guilt rise up in her chest. Harry was wrapped up in his depression because he blamed himself for running to Sirius's rescue.

“Harry...” she breathed, hoping she wouldn't make him even angrier than he already was. “People make mistakes. It's okay. That's what makes us human--”

“So are you saying that since I brainlessly thought Voldemort had captured Sirius, gone gallivanting into the Department of Mysteries, and nearly gotten you and the others killed, it's just a mistake? It's okay? You know Hermione; sometimes I really don't understand you.” With that, Harry jumped off the couch and stormed out of the Common Room, leaving Hermione to sob in her guilt and pity.

That was the last time Harry and Hermione spoke. Every time she caught a glimpse of him she would burst into tears. She couldn't look him in the eyes without being overwhelmed with the pain of his broken heart. He had gone through so much at such an early age, it just wasn't fair. It wasn't fair that her Harry Potter had been chosen to go through this- through all the heartache and pain. He was so sweet, caring, and loyal. Now all Hermione and Ron had was a shadow of the best friend they used to know.

~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~

“Hey mate,” said Ron, sitting next to Harry in the Library one evening. Harry just mumbled without looking up from his Potions essay. This wasn't unusual to Ron. He was used to getting mumbles or no replies from his best friend.

“Have you seen Hermione?” Ron asked carelessly.

Harry stiffened at the sound of her name. He turned to Ron, a glint of anger in his eyes. “How would I know where she is? It's not my turn to watch her,” he replied, no hint of warmth in his voice.

“I know, Harry. I haven't seen her for a while. Maybe Ginny knows where she is ... I'll go ask her,” said Ron, completely missing Harry's tone.

“Ask me what?” Ginny Weasley emerged from a row of books, a look of question on her face. She sat across from Harry as she pulled out some parchment and a quill.

“Ginny, do you know where Hermione is? I haven't seen her all morning.”

Ginny thought for a moment before answering her brother, “No. The last time I saw her was at breakfast. She was headed to the bathroom. I haven't seen her since.”

“Maybe she's still there?”

“I dunno. Why would she stay in the bathroom for so long, though?” Ginny and Ron continued their conversation, completely ignoring the look of anger and remorse on Harry's face. His hand was shaking slightly as he went over his last conversation with Hermione in his head. Why is she in denial about the truth? It is my fault Sirius died. If I had listened to her--

“Harry? Are you okay?”

“I--I'm fine, Ginny. I'm fine.”

“You don't look like it. You look worried, are you sure you're alright mate?" Ron asked.

“Ron, I'm fine. I'm all right. I--I'll see you later,” said Harry as he stood up, shoving his essay and quill roughly in his bag.

“Where are you going?”

Harry let out a quiet groan of annoyance. Louder he said, “I'm going to stay in the dormitory. I--I need to be alone...” Ginny and Ron exchanged glances.

“You've been doing that a lot, mate. Are you sure you don't want some company?”

“No, Ron. I want to be alone. I don't need you or Ginny to accompany me like I'm some little kid.” He spun around on his heel and stormed out of the library, receiving a reproachful glare from Madame Pince.

“What?” Ron stuttered, completely shocked. “What was that about? Why is he always so angry lately? Both he and Hermione are so ... sad.”

“I don't know, Ron,” Ginny said sarcastically. “Maybe they had a row.”

“About what? Why would they argue? I never see them disagree.”

“Firstly, Hermione is hopelessly in love with him" she faced her brother who looked offended at Hermione's decision. "Ron, please don't tell me you haven't noticed.”

"Oh yeah, of course I've noticed," he lied.

Ginny frowned at the look of confusion on his face. She continued, “Lavender and Parvati have told me she cries in her bed almost every night, she always gets tears in her eyes at the mention of Harry, and both she and Harry have suddenly become depressed and emotional. Harry must have broken her heart--”

“But why would you think that--”

“Oh please, Ron! I can't believe I'm related to you. No wonder Hermione gets so frustrated with you!” She, like Harry, got up and stormed out of the Library. Ron was left to do his homework by himself, lost in confusion.

~*~*~*~*~

Hermione sat on her bed late at night, plotting ways to get Harry back - even in he would just talk to her. She had become restless and distracted lately, making her friends and professors worry. She did nothing except eat, think of Harry, sleep, dream of Harry, participate in light conversations, and not to forget, think of Harry. And now, Hermione only paid half attention to her schoolwork, her thoughts occupied by Harry. Why does he have to be such a prat? He never thinks about what anybody else thinks or feels. He's nothing more then a self centered git with a big head, Hermione thought for the umpteenth time. She sank into her pillow, immediately falling into a restless sleep.

~*~*~*~*~

“Ginny?” Hermione whispered into the sleeping girl's ear.

“Hmm...” Ginny groaned sleepily. She rolled over to look at her fellow Gryffindor. “Hermione, why are you waking me up at the c rack of dawn on a Saturday? Have you gone mad?”

“I--I need your help.”

“With what?” Ginny yawned, slowly dragging herself out of her warm bed. Hermione smiled at her in a mischievous way.

“Getting him,” she said simply, and grin was obvious on her face.

“Err, Hermione ... We've tried to think of ways to get him before. Face it; he's too thick to realize that you are in love with him--”

“I know, Gin. I need your help with this. I'm desperate! Please help!” Hermione practically begged her.

“Fine. What do you have in mind?”

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