Unrequited

Unrequited

By Excalibos

Rating: PG for the story/PG-13 for language in the song

Summary: Harry’s thoughts following book 7 and dealing with his feelings. Ron/Hermione, implied Harry/Hermione.

Author’s Note: The story just demanded writing as I listened to this song. I am a confirmed Harmonian/Pumpkin Pie-er, but the idea just wouldn’t go away. This might be in violation of rule 2; I wasn’t sure how far the line can be pushed. If it’s not cool, I’ll pull the story. Hopefully you will enjoy it, even if it is a bit of a downer.

Disclaimer: JKR owns the characters, James Blunt owns the song. But no one can own my words or my mind but me. Love it, hate it. Review if you want. Flames will be laughed at and discarded. Constructive criticism is most welcome. Peace all.

You're Beautiful

by James Blunt

My life is brilliant.

My life is brilliant.

My love is pure.

I saw an angel.

Of that I'm sure.

She smiled at me on the subway.

She was with another man.

But I won't lose no sleep on that,

'Cause I've got a plan.

You're beautiful. You're beautiful.

You're beautiful, it's true.

I saw your face in a crowded place,

And I don't know what to do,

'Cause I'll never be with you.

Yeah, she caught my eye,

As we walked on by.

She could see from my face that I was,

Fucking high,

And I don't think that I'll see her again,

But we shared a moment that will last till the end.

You're beautiful. You're beautiful.

You're beautiful, it's true.

I saw your face in a crowded place,

And I don't know what to do,

'Cause I'll never be with you.

You're beautiful. You're beautiful.

You're beautiful, it's true.

There must be an angel with a smile on her face,

When she thought up that I should be with you.

But it's time to face the truth,

I will never be with you.

***********************

Harry stood at the rampart of the Astronomy Tower, his gaze holding steady on two distant specks that occupied the space beneath a long-familiar tree. He could just make out the mane of chestnut brown against the black robe of the larger, red-headed figure, who was running his hand up and down her back. Harry watched for a long moment, his heart seeming to tear itself from within, before he spun around and slumped to the floor. He pulled his knees against his chest as his eyes began to water as the thoughts he had forbidden himself to feel began to pour over him.

When had this happened? When had he fallen for the bossy, bushy-haired, book-loving girl that always insisted that he be more careful? How could he have fallen for the one girl that his best friend in the world wanted to be with? He thought back over his life with her, and realized that his first true experience with magic had been because of Hermione, on the train to Hogwarts. She had never, save that first meeting, ever looked at him as anything other than Harry, not the Boy-Who-Lived, not the Chosen One, just Harry. She knew him well, knew when he was being reckless, when he was troubled, when he should share his problems even though he often didn’t want to. It was as if someone had created Hermione to fill in the missing parts of himself.

His reverie broke when he noted with some distaste that he was sitting in almost the same place he had lain frozen the night Dumbledore had died. Across the tower, embedded in the stone battlements, resided a plaque with a simple inscription.

It is on this spot that Albus Dumbledore, one of the greatest wizards ever to live, was struck down.

"It is our choices that show what we truly are, far more than our abilities."

Albus P.W.B. Dumbledore

1840-1997

Harry let his head drop with a thud against the wall behind him as tears tried to force themselves past his self-control. His eyes stole heavenwards as he let his mind drift to days long past, when his heart hadn’t belonged to Hermione. An overwhelming sense of loss filled him as his mind drifted to those moments following the death of Voldemort.

The darkening skies betrayed nothing of what had happened at the house near Godric’s Hollow. Harry knelt on the damp ground of his parent’s backyard, exhausted beyond belief as he stared at the body of Tom Riddle. The sound of newly fallen rain reached his ears mere moments before he felt the drops of cleansing rain pour from the sky. He lifted his face to heaven as he felt the years of tension and anxiety wash from him and collect around the body of the once-Dark Lord Voldemort. The body rested, splayed indignantly at the bottom of a small crater that had formed when Tom’s magic had suddenly exploded, the energy from the blast having knocked Harry reeling.

Harry sat on his heels, his face uplifted, when he suddenly began laughing. He began laughing, truly laughing, carefree for the first time that he could remember. “I’m FREE! I’m free,” Harry shouted before his attention was drawn to a pair of headstones, chipped in the battle. His voice dropped to a whisper. “I’m finally free. You can rest now, Mum…Dad. No one’s after me now. I can finally just be Harry. I…I’ll never forget what you gave up for me, I swear.” Tears flowed freely as he stood, as uncaring of his image as he had been for most of his life. He slowly began limping back to his parent’s house, when he saw something that cut him deeply. Ron was kissing Hermione. This wasn’t very odd, as they had started seeing each other not three months before, although that had, for some unknown reason, unnerved him. What had caused Harry to stagger backwards was…

Hermione was kissing him back.

Harry felt something inside begin to wail in agony. It wasn’t the strange beast he had felt rearing its head when he had watched Ginny and Dean together. This was different. Deeper somehow. All Harry knew was that he couldn’t breathe, that he felt like when the gillyweed had worn off in fourth year. He was drowning, and he finally knew why.

He loved Hermione.

Ron and Hermione had become a much closer couple following the Battle of Godric’s Hollow. They were seen to wander the grounds of the newly rebuilt and reopened Hogwarts, quite often hand-in-hand, no one existing except the other. Harry had managed so far to conceal his feelings; he had, after all, become quite skilled at that thanks to the Dursleys. The bombshell had burst though when Ron had spoken to him last night.

“Hey Harry. You asleep?”

“I was. What’s up?”

“I just…well, I’m going to ask Hermione to marry me. I was just wondering if you had an idea on how I could do it.” Harry felt his blood freeze at those words. His breathing hitched before he could regain control, and he could almost feel Ron’s confused look. “You alright, mate?”

“Yeah. I’m alright,” Harry whispered after a moment’s pause to conceal his emotions. “Just…Just ask her. You know Hermione. She doesn’t much like beating around the subject, does she.”

“Yeah, you’re right,” Ron chuckled. “Hey Harry. If she says yes, you know you’ll be best man. Right?” Harry didn’t respond. He simply pretended to be asleep.

Harry watched a falcon wing its way around the castle, searching for prey, and allowed a sigh to escape. He thought of the plans he had come up with, ways of telling Hermione how he felt, ways of letting her know that she was loved by him. All of his plans had come crashing down around his ears. He could never do that to Ron, not after all they had been through. He felt a wetness sliding down his face, and wiped his face with his sleeve. He thought he had been crying; however, at that moment, the heavens burst forth in a torrential downpour. He didn’t move, although he heard the cries and squeals of those down below. He could see them in his mind running hand in hand, Hermione’s wand quickly casting water-repelling charms on the both of them. They would reach the entrance hall, share a quick kiss, and then head for the common room to talk to him. Except he wouldn’t be there.

Harry patted the Marauder’s Map, wrapped in waterproof bindings and hidden in his pocket. He had made sure he wouldn’t be found in this spot, even bringing his invisibility cloak with him. He thought wearily that there would be no finding Harry Potter lest he wish to be found. The rain beat down upon him, soaking him quickly. The rain was cold for early May, but Harry couldn’t help but feel that some angel somewhere had taken pity on him for a moment. He carefully withdrew a small picture from his robes, one that Ron had taken of Harry and Hermione on their hunt for Riddle’s Horcruxes. Picture-Harry was looking at Picture-Hermione in amusement as she tried to hold onto a yowling Crookshanks, who was adamant about not getting in the washbasin next to which they were kneeling. Harry couldn’t help but laugh as the photo images of the two of them were suddenly drenched by the irate half- kneazle.

He stood again and looked out over the expanse of the lake, remembering the hours he and Hermione had spent walking around the perimeter, sharing toast after his name had been pulled from the Goblet of Fire. As the wind lashed him with rain, he closed is eyes to more fully enjoy the memories of their times together. He watched in his mind’s eye as Hermione Granger descended the staircase, dress of blue wafting around her, giving her an almost ethereal grace.

“How could I have been so blind? How could I not have seen what was right in front of me,” he asked the heavens. Their only reply was to rumble and flash.

Harry rested his head on his folded arms as he leaned on the ancient battlements. There wasn’t anything he could do, not this time. This wasn’t a dark wizard that deserved to die, or a monster trying to hurt people. This was Ron… Ron and Hermione. And as a cold hand clenched his heart, he accepted a bitter truth.

“He makes her happy. She loves him.” Harry stood, his back ramrod straight, and buried what he felt. He could no more hurt Ron and Hermione than he could have joined the Death Eaters; it just wasn’t in him. He turned to head back into the castle, when he found himself staring into brown eyes that had haunted his dreams every night for the last few months.

“Harry, why in the world are you out in this weather? You’ll catch your death,” Hermione chastised. Harry allowed a self-deprecating smile as he put his hand on her shoulder. He patted it as he walked to the door, turning in the entrance to answer her, as she still had not moved. He tried to ignore the look in her eyes, the look she always gave him; that look of caring and worry and something more, something he could never accept now.

“It’s nothing, Hermione. Just a saving-people thing.”

Unrequited

by Excalibos

Rating: PG

Summary: She knows him too well. She knows something is wrong, but how do you get the latest “Greatest Wizard of the Age” to open up if he doesn’t want to acknowledge something is wrong?

Author’s Note: That is it. I hereby declare open season on all Plot Bunnies. Use of unnecessary violence in their apprehension or removal has been approved. Seriously though, I actually had this idea pop into my head almost literally moments before I got an email from the Mod Gods asking me very politely to add another chapter/epilogue of warm fuzzy goodness. So, this is not me caving to pressure.

I swear.

Stop looking at me like that.

I’m not kidding. ;D

Disclaimer: Characters, locations, etc. are the intellectual property of JK Rowling, and are hereby used WITHOUT PERMISSION! MWAHAHAHAHA! Sorry. The song is by Hoobastank, and is their’s as well. Nothing is mine, save the dark scarred corner of my imagination that these ideas slither from. Love it, hate it. Review if you want. Flames will be laughed at and discarded. Constructive criticism is most welcome.

The Reason

by Hoobastank

I'm not a perfect person
There’s many things I wish I didn't do
But I continue learning
I never meant to do those things to you
And so I have to say before I go
That I just want you to know

I've found a reason for me
To change who I used to be
A reason to start over new
and the reason is you

I'm sorry that I hurt you
It's something I must live with everyday
And all the pain I put you through
I wish that I could take it all away
And be the one who catches all your tears
That’s why I need you to hear

I've found a reason for me,
To change who I used to be
A reason to start over new
and the reason is You

And the reason is You

And the reason is You

And the reason is You

And the reason is You

I'm not a perfect person
I never meant to do those things to you
And so I have to say before I go
That I just want you to know

I've found a reason for me
To change who I used to be
A reason to start over new
and the reason is you

I've found a reason to show
A side of me you didn't know
A reason for all that I do
And the reason is you

******************

Hermione picked listlessly at her food, her mind able to engage in small talk with Ron while trying to make sense of the jumble of thoughts running rampant through her subconscious. It had been three days since the strange incident on the Astronomy tower and Hermione was still trying to figure out what the short exchange had meant. Harry had, as usual, not said a further word about it and was, in point of fact, being an absolute git about things. The fact that he actually wasn’t being awful, Hermione was admitting to herself only very reluctantly, wishing instead to paint her best friend in a poorer light. It was the only way she could be mad at him without her conscience berating her shrilly.

The object of her musings chose that moment of introspection to saunter through the doors of the Great Hall, a grin on his face as Ron waved him over. Ron was, as usual, oblivious to Harry’s emotional state but Hermione was sure that she would be able to discover what was wrong if she brought it up quietly at the Gryffindor table. Harry exchanged pleasantries with several members of Hogwarts’ student body as he approached, allowing Hermione time to try to finalize some kind of plan. Anything would be better than jumping in blindly, of that she was certain.

“Good Morning! And how did our resident ‘Hot Couple’ fare last night,” Harry asked as he sat across from the pair, a wicked gleam in his eye. Ron almost choked on the orange juice he was trying to guzzle and Hermione slapped him hard on the back without pulling her attention from Harry.

“And just what is that supposed to mean, Harry Potter,” she snapped, wincing internally at the pathetic inability to hide her irritation with him. Harry’s grin twitched, his green eyes darkening for a moment, as they often did when he felt strong emotions. He shrugged as he reached to grab a pair of bagels and some fried potatoes. Ron finally stopped gasping for air and went back to eating, unable to completely disguise his chuckle.

Hermione shot him a harsh glare before returning her attention to Harry. “Well?”

“Didn’t mean anything by it, Hermione. Just asking how the both of you slept. That’s all,” Harry replied, the wicked, teasing gleam having quickly resurfaced. Hermione could feel her irritation start to rise again but she quickly tamped it down. Harry had become quite adept in the last few days at diverting her attention from his problems by getting her upset about other things. But she was Hermione Jane Granger, by Merlin, and would not be so easily tricked this time.

“That’s all right then. I slept very well; those final papers for Professor Vector are a lot harder to work out than I thought, so I was absolutely exhausted by the time I went to bed.” She noticed Ron was only paying slight attention as she talked about her favorite subject, but she continued to focus on Harry. The raven haired boy quickly swallowed a mouthful of bagel.

“How about you, Harry? Any bad dreams, or something else, maybe? You’ve not seemed yourself in the last few days.” She smiled inwardly as she detected the slightest wince in Harry’s features. Something was bothering him. She just needed to find out what it was.

******************

Hermione screamed in frustration as she joined Ron in the Room of Requirement, her robes billowing behind her as she stormed through the door. Ron jumped backwards hastily, the candlelit dinner in front of him forgotten in his haste to put distance between himself and an enraged Hermione Granger.

“Now, Hermione, I’m sure that whatever I’ve done now isn’t worthy of you being this hacked off, but I swear I’ll make it up to you,” Ron blurted, desperately putting his chair in Hermione’s line of fire.

“OOOooo, that no good, gormless, imbecilic, completely full of himself PRAT!!”

“Been talking to Malfoy again, eh?” The look that Hermione shot at him convinced Ron that keeping his big trap shut for the moment would greatly improve his chances of seeing the next Quidditch game with every piece of himself intact. The arrogant Slytherin had double-crossed the Death Eaters by secretly giving out the location of their main stronghold and the hidden escape tunnels beneath it. Tunnels that had allowed the Order and a huge force of Aurors to rush in as a diversionary attack while Harry was busy with Voldemort. Draco had been given a commuted sentence in exchange for his assistance and joined the returning students for their NEWT year of Hogwarts. Hermione lowered her gaze and collapsed in the chair that had already been pulled out in anticipation of her arrival. She dropped her head into her arms, giving Ron enough courage to kneel in front of her and put his hand on her shoulder.

“Hermione, luv, what is it? What’s wrong? If Malfoy didn’t say anything to you, then who did?” Hermione raised tired eyes to meet the concerned blue eyes of her boyfriend.

“It’s Harry. And it’s not so much what he said. It’s what he won’t say. I know something is bothering him, Ron, but he won’t tell me. This is worse than that Christmas at Number 12. At least then, he finally talked to us. It’s like he’s completely shut himself off.”

“What are you bloody well talking about? Harry hasn’t been acting strangely at all, Hermione. And even if he were, the bloke is deserving of a bit of down time. Saving the world isn’t something you just put down when you’re finished, like a book. These things can take time,” Ron argued, his fingers wiping away a tear that had begun to trek across Hermione’s cheek.

“There’s something else, Ron. About a week ago, I found Harry at the Astronomy tower.”

“A lot of people go there to think or…stuff, Hermione,” Ron stated, confusion written on his face. Hermione huffed in agitation at her boyfriend’s thick-headedness.

“He was standing in that horrid rainstorm, Ron. No slicker, no repelling charm, no nothing, just looking out over the lake. And when I asked him what was wrong, all he did was pat me on the shoulder and leave.” Ron smirked, but Hermione’s glare quickly made him stop.

“He was probably just thinking. Like Neville gets down in the Herbology gardens. Now that bloke could forget what YEAR it was when he starts puttering around down there.”

“That’s not all. He told me it was nothing. That it was just a saving-people thing. Then he left. No explanation or anything. He just left. And now he’s acting like it is any other year or something. Like we didn’t just fight a huge war, or that he had to bury more of our friends. It’s like he’s in… denial or something.” Ron brushed a hair out of her face as he tried to think of something to say.

“Didn’t you say that to him?” Hermione looked at him quizzically. “The saving-people thing? That night we went to the Ministry to try and rescue Sirius.” Ron saw Hermione’s eyes widen a moment before confusion set in again.

“But who is he trying to protect now? And why won’t he tell us?” Ron shuddered as a horrid thought came to him.

“What if it’s us he’s trying to protect? What if he’s leaving, and that’s why he was looking over the lake…He was wondering where to go.” Hermione’s lower lip trembled at the thought of Harry leaving without telling them why. Swiftly, she kissed Ron’s forehead and bolted toward the door.

“You don’t mind if we…”

“Reschedule? Not at all. Go fix Harry; you’re better at that feelings stuff than I am. I’ll clean up here.” Ron watched the door until the latch clicked into place. He turned, melancholy bursting in his chest, to the table and slowly extricated a tiny velvet box. He opened the lid to view the simple diamond solitaire winking at him in the feeble flickering flames of the candles. With a sigh he snapped the box shut and stuffed it back into the pocket of his robes. A muttered curse later, he was striding purposefully toward Gryffindor Tower, irritation pouring off him in waves.

“What are you planning, Harry? Better hope Hermione talks some sense into you, or I’ll have to manually input the arguments against such a damn fool idea.” A group of second years bounded out of his way in terror.

*******************

Harry Potter was staring out the window next to his bed, the setting sun coruscating off the waters of the Black Lake. A long tentacle emerged from one end of the loch and seemed to wave forlornly at the fading light. Harry too felt a desire to say goodbye to something that lit his world. His thoughts were rudely interrupted by Hermione’s entrance into the room. The door almost blew off its hinges as she passed over the threshold, her wand pointing right at him.

“You know, Hermione, destruction of school property is grounds for expulsion. I don’t think…”

“Just shut it, Potter,” Hermione hissed as she stalked over to Harry, magical energy seeming to flow from her, disturbing the air around her. Harry felt a surge of anger rise up inside, and he stepped right up to Hermione, refusing to back down from her glare.

“I don’t like your tone, Miss Granger. This is the boy’s dormitory, in case you hadn’t noticed. And I don’t care if the founders thought girls were more trustworthy or not. Unless you have permission to be in here… I WANT YOU OUT!!!” Harry finished in a roar, spittle flying in a Vernon-esque way as he pointed his finger at the door. His entire body trembled as he tried to ignore the voice inside him, demanding that he should be kissing her instead of threatening her.

“If you even THINK of leaving this castle without saying a word to either Ron or myself, I will hunt you to the ends of the Earth, Harry James Potter.” Hermione whirled toward the door, only to find a strong grip preventing her.

“What the bloody hell are you talking about, Hermione?” Harry’s expression was blatantly confused, causing a tidal wave of guilt to wash over Hermione. The emotional rollercoaster of the last few days, combined with Harry’s tirade, caused the dam of tears to break loose. She rushed forward, crushing him to her until he felt his ribs start fusing together. Air soon became a precious commodity and he gently loosened her grip. Once again, Harry stubbornly refused to acknowledge the small version of himself dancing around the very ribcage that had been crushed moments before. Hermione sniffed brokenly before looking Harry in the eye.

“It’s just that, well, you scared me on the Astronomy tower. I didn’t know what you meant, and then Ron, of all people, remembered that I had said that same thing to you three years ago. So we got to talking, and the only reason that we could come up with for you not telling us what was wrong… was that we were the ones going to be hurt. And the only way you could really do that is if you left us without any explanation or goodbye.” Hermione’s heart plummeted as Harry refused to meet her eyes. The nagging voice of reason in her head was shouting I-told-you-so’s as loudly as possible, but all she could do was pull Harry’s face around by the chin, forcing him to look at her. “If you’re not leaving, which I can tell is true by the confusion on your face, then why are you acting this way? What could you do that could hurt us like that?”

“Don’t ask questions you aren’t prepared to hear the answer for, Hermione,” Harry whispered, an intensity in his gaze that she had never seen before. He was almost pressed against her at this point, barely a hand’s breadth away, and his eyes were almost hypnotic. “There’s a reason curiosity killed the cat, so just let it go.” Harry brushed by her as he tried to leave, but this time it was Hermione who stopped him.

“I want to know, Harry,” the bushy-haired girl whispered as her eyes again filled with tears, her hand gripping his arm as if it were a life preserver. Harry tried to ignore the feelings that started to well up inside him until he heard what she said. “You know that no matter what happens, no matter what you have to face, I’ll always be there. I’ll always be your friend. What could you ever do to Ron and I that would make us so upset with you?”

Harry’s face had turned from her again, but not before she glimpsed a tear forming at the corner of his eye. Hermione’s anxiety over the situation skyrocketed; Harry was notorious for not allowing people to see him cry. She could see the struggle in his features as he wrestled with his own thoughts, deciding whether to tell her or not. His answer, given in what was barely more than a whisper, answered her questions in a way she had never anticipated.

“I fell in love with my best friend.” The look of defeat on Harry’s face as he slumped onto the trunk at the foot of his bed was heartbreaking, a defeat so profound that it seemed that Harry would never recover. Hermione’s heart clenched as she knelt in front of him, gently placing a hand over his own clenched fists. His breath hitched at her touch, but he was quick to compose himself.

“You were never supposed to find out. You were supposed to be happy with Ron, have lots of little Weasleys. You weren’t supposed to know,” Harry grated out, tears now beginning to flow freely. “How can you two be happy if you’re constantly worried about me, about how I feel? I didn’t want that; I don’t want that. Merlin knows that Ron doesn’t deserve that. I was just going to pretend that everything was fine, and that would be that. You’d be happy and he’d be happy, and that would be all that mattered.”

Hermione could only stare at Harry wordlessly as his words penetrated through the arguments she had come up with for a variety of responses, but this… This was something else entirely.

Harry Potter loved her. He was in love with her, Hermione Granger. The questions of how and when rushed through her mind, as she could only stare at Harry. Her thoughts were nothing but a confused jumble as she tried to think about the ramifications of this little revelation. Ron would go spare, and she knew she would always be on guard not to do anything to upset Harry. She cared too much about Harry to hurt him like that.

Hermione covered her mouth to prevent the gasp that almost escaped. Harry’s head snapped up to look at her, with her eyes wide and hand covering her mouth, and stood up morosely. He hadn’t ever looked this bad, even when he had brought back Cedric’s body, she couldn’t help but think. What neither she nor Harry noticed was the ‘third person’ was standing out of sight, just beyond the doorframe, an expression of sorrow on his face that could easily match the occupants of the room. He quickly ducked back down the stairs to conceal himself.

Harry put his hand on her shoulder before he walked out the door with a muttered “I’m sorry.” Hermione only acknowledged the words with a whimper as her mind was rushing faster than it ever had before.

Just how much did she care for Harry Potter?

So much of her life had revolved around him for so many years. Protecting him, helping him and being someone he could always turn to, those things had been her focus outside of class. She had been the one to pick him up every time he had been hurting, one of the few he could tell everything to. She had always stood by him, in good times and bad. And he had done what he could to stand by her, even if he didn’t always agree with her. He…

He was the reason for everything she had done over the last eight years. The reason for almost half her life’s choices, half her decisions.

She felt the tears well up just as a certain red-head strode through the door. She felt his arms wrap around her as he tried to comfort her, but all he could do was fail miserably. She knew he was holding her and all she could feel was how much she wanted to make Harry stop feeling so down.

Ron carefully brushed a strand of hair off her forehead when she finally looked at him. The look in her eyes spoke volumes. “I guess this certifies that I don’t have the emotional range of a teaspoon anymore, doesn’t it.” She looked at him confusion etched in her face. “Go to him,” Ron whispered, his head dropping so he wouldn’t have to look in her eyes. “Somehow it just seems… right or something. I dunno. Just… just remember that I do care for you, Hermione.”

Hermione reached out and touched him on the cheek, trying to convey how she felt without words. Ron smiled and helped her to her feet, and with a parting glance, she tore off down the stairs to find her best friend… and her reason to be. Ron smiled sadly at her departure before turning to look out the window. “Take care of her, mate. You deserve something good, after all this time.”

************************

Ironically, she found him standing atop the Astronomy tower, once again looking over the Black Lake. She approached slowly trying to remain quiet, but Harry seemed to instinctively shift to his left, giving her room beside him. She walked over and leaned against the parapet, her eyes drinking in the sight of the grounds of Hogwarts at sunset. “It’s beautiful,” she whispered as the sun painted the horizon in pinks and reds.

“Yes, it is. Always has been. I just never really had the time to see it.” She looked up at Harry only to find his eyes upon her, not the sunset. She felt the blush creeping into her cheeks as he turned away, a matching blush staining him. “Sorry. That was uncalled for.”

Hermione reached out and touched him on the cheek, turning his face back around. She could feel the grin on her face burst forth as brown eyes bore deeply into green. In a quiet voice, she whispered, “Harry, we need to talk.”