A Talk Between Friends

DISCLAIMER: Still JKR's blessed little characters.

A/N: Happy birthday, Seanie! May you have many, many more and may we all be a part of them!

As an aside - I have no idea where this came from. At this point, I just hope it makes a little sense because it just sort of tumbled out!

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A Talk Between Friends

For a month now, Ron has watched. For once he had decided that being the silent observer would be far more beneficial then the `right foul git' he normally prided himself on being.

He was, in fact, watching now - even as he questioned…

“Hermione?”

Hermione's expression was blank as she stared across the vast expanse of the Burrow's backyard, seemingly oblivious to everything around her.

“Hermione? You in there?”

Hermione blinked and for the first time, noticed the shadow that stretched in front of her. She looked up slowly to find Ron staring down at her. “Oh, hey Ron,” she greeted vaguely as she cast her gaze back out across the yard.

“Oh, hey Hermione,” said Ron in the same vague way. “Mind if I sit?”

Without looking up, Hermione scooted over. “If you like.”

Ron flumped down beside her on the bench and stretched his long legs out in front of him. “What're you thinking about? You seem a little lost.”

Hermione shook her head. “Nothing.”

“You scared?”

With that, she turned to look at him. “Always. Aren't you?”

Ron nodded and shrugged. “Pretty much.”

Hermione looked away with another sigh. “I thought you were playing chess with Ginny. What brings you out here?” she asked, though it was obvious her thoughts weren't on conversation.

“There're only so many times in one day a bloke can face the humiliation of losing to Ginny. A man's gotta have a bit of dignity, doesn't he?”

Hermione gave a weak chuckle and rolled her eyes. “She almost got you, eh?”

Ron released an audible breath and nodded as he leaned forward and turned his head just enough to watch her eyes. “Yeah…Harry's in there playing with her now. He's used to getting pummeled in chess.”

Hermione's eyes darkened for a split second before she nodded her head and hummed an agreeable, “Mmm…”

Ron frowned slightly then stretched out, crossing his arms behind his head and leaning back into them. “Can I ask you something?”

Hermione glanced at him briefly and shrugged. “If you must,” she said with a smile.

Ron's attempt at a smile looked more like a grimace as he turned serious. “What do you see when you look at me?”

Hermione blinked then furrowed her brow. “Excuse me?”

“You heard me, Hermione—”

“Yeah, I heard you. But I don't understand the question. What're you on about?”

Ron sighed and sat forward, turning his upper body until he was almost fully facing her. “Look at me.”

Hermione turned to look at him fully and raised her brow questioningly.

“Now tell me what you see.”

She stared at him for a full minute but said nothing as she concentrated. “I don't know,” she said at last. “What do you want me to see?”

Ron dropped his head and turned around to sit up straight. “Doesn't matter what I want, Hermione,” he said quietly. “What matters is what you want…what you see.”

Hermione contemplated him a moment longer. “To whom?”

This time the confusion belonged to Ron and he expressed by way of a frown. “To whom, what?”

“To whom does it matter what I want…what difference will it make?”

Ron looked out across the backyard with a sigh. “It matters to me,” he said instantly. “It matters to Harry. It could be the difference between life and death someday, Hermione.” He turned his head to watch her surreptitiously from the corner of his eye as he added a soft, “Or love and heartbreak.”

Hermione's brow furrowed deeper and she turned away from Ron to once again stare out across the yard. They sat in awkward silence for a few minutes, each lost in their own thoughts until at last she spoke.

“I don't know what to say, Ron,” said Hermione with a shake of her head.

“Then don't say anything because if you have to think too long and hard then whatever comes out of your mouth'll be from your head and not your heart,” said Ron with a sigh. He made to stand and he looked caustically back down at her. “Just forget it.”

Hermione watched him stand and take a few steps away from her before she finally gained some modicum of understanding. “Ron,” she called out, sounding a bit apprehensive and unsure of whether or not she really wanted him to acknowledge her.

Ron closed his eyes and briefly contemplated ignoring her before stopping and turning around. Their eyes met but neither made a move to speak or to bridge the distance between them.

“Ron—”

“Hermione—”

Hermione jumped up from the bench and walked quickly to Ron's side. She grabbed his hand and began to drag him across the yard and toward the trees surrounding it.

“Hermione, I said to forget it,” said Ron with a half-hearted attempt to pull away. “We don't have to talk about this. Let's just pretend it never happened, alright?”

Hermione shook her head. “We can't do that. It's out there now and we need to clear the air between us before whatever this is festers and we both explode. As we're both wont to do,” she added more as an afterthought.

“Hermione—” groaned Ron.

She pulled him to a log and they sat down side by side. “Ron, listen. I don't know what you think you know…or what you think you might want to hear. Heck, I don't even know if what I'm thinking you might be thinking is really what you're thinking, but—”

“Huh?” Ron looked confused.

“But I do know this…” said Hermione earnestly. “When I look at you I see a man who can make me laugh, one who can raise my hackles more than anyone ever could, and one who I hope will be by my side when this war is over.” She grasped his hand and stared down at it as she squeezed it tight. “What I see is my brother. I love you, Ron…” she looked up into his eyes, “but I'm not in love with you.”

Ron closed his eyes and drew in a breath. “Ah,” he breathed, “Heartbreak.”

Hermione continued to look at him with tears now brimming in her eyes. “Is that what you think? You think I'm breaking your heart?”

Ron looked down at her with a bittersweet smile. “That's what I want to think, Hermione,” he said with a shake of his head, “but no, I don't think you're breaking my heart. I think—”

He paused and Hermione looked up at him encouragingly. “Go on, Ron, tell me.”

Ron slid down to the ground and brought his knees up to his chest and wrapped his arms around them. “What I think, Hermione,” he paused again as he thought how best to say what he was feeling. He closed his eyes and rested his chin on his knees then quietly replied, “I think you're setting it free.”

Hermione slid down the log to sit beside him and rested her head against his arm. “You know the truth, don't you?” she asked without preamble.

Ron nodded. “I think so. I've been watching.”

“Then you know it's only one-sided so I totally understand how you feel right now.”

Ron laid his cheek against his knee and looked at her sitting beside him. “You seemed so happy when Harry and Ginny got together a few months ago.”

Hermione looked at him thoughtfully and nodded. “I was,” she said quietly, “…for a while. After feeling this way for three years I've sort of learned to hide what's going on in my head - and my heart - most of the time.”

“I don't think I could've done it so easily,” admitted Ron. “I know I was with Lavender, but if you'd really gotten together with someone else” — he shook his head — “I'm not sure I could've hidden the jealousy or the pain quite so well.”

Hermione folded her knees and rested her chin on them as she stared out in front of her. “Harry was on a suicide mission last year, Ron - between Draco and Snape and that damned book - no,” she shook her head assuredly, “he needed a distraction and,” she shrugged, “he found it with Ginny. I was happy for him. I never lied about that.”

“So what happens if they get back together?”

Hermione shrugged again. “Then you and I can be founding members of the broken-hearts club,” she tried to joke, though her heart ached at the thought of a life without Harry.

Ron studied her quietly for a full minute before finally breaking their silence. “I don't think you have to worry about that.”

“There's someone out there for everyone, is that it?”

“Not necessarily,” Ron shrugged. His narrow-eyed gaze settled on her as he thought back to his month of watching his two best friends. “I think there's someone for you, though. You just have to give it a bit more time, that's all.”

“And if I really want Harry to notice me, I'll just have to take up sport, grow long, shimmering locks and learn to bat my eyelashes just the way he likes, is that it?” Hermione asked with a dramatic batting of her lashes.

Ron laughed. “That's my sister you're talking about, you know?”

“Yeah,” Hermione nodded. “I know. It's Cho, too, though. Ginny's not the only one.” She looked at Ron and smiled, “And besides, you know I love Ginny. I don't have any ill will toward her…” she shrugged again, “it's just the kind of girl Harry likes. Given that,” she raised her brow in concession, “I refuse to compromise who I am. If he, or anyone else for that matter, can't accept me for who I am then that's all there is for it, right?” Without waiting for a response she turned away from him and sighed as she laid her head back down on her knees.

Ron put a hand on her arm and she turned her head over to face him. “Do you remember what I said when you asked me if I knew?”

Hermione shook her head. “Something about watching,” she answered vaguely. “I don't remember exactly.”

“Something about watching,” Ron repeated. “Yeah, I've been doing a lot of watching the past month, Hermione and I can't even begin to tell you everything that I've seen.”

Hermione sat up with panic in her eyes. “You mean I've been that obvious?” she nearly shouted.

“No,” Ron laughed. “I've been watching, er, closely,” he closed his eyes to ready himself for the onslaught he knew would follow his next words. “Too closely perhaps…on occasion.”

Hermione banged her forehead against her knees. “Stupid, stupid, stupid,” she said in a continual self-chastisement. “How could I be so stupid?”

Ron placed his hand on her shoulder, forcing her to stop. “I won't tell you that he loves you, or even that I think he might, but I will tell you this…he spends an awful lot of time watching you. He seems to be constantly aware of where you are, what you're doing, how you're feeling…he always knows, Hermione. And he knows it without ever having to ask. Give it all some time, okay? Don't give up hope quite yet.”

Hermione stared at him in silent wonder for a minute before resting her head against his shoulder and grabbing hold of his hand. “Why are you doing this?” she asked softly. “You wouldn't try to get my hopes up just to watch them shatter, would you?”

She felt his body tense where hers touched his and immediately she felt regret for what she'd said. “I'm sorry. It's just…” she shook her head to try and put order to her jumbled thoughts.

“You're finding it hard to believe that I'm okay with it?” Ron supplied.

Hermione's look of wonder found its way to him once again. “How have you gotten so wise?” She sat up on her knees and put her face a few inches from his as she looked into his eyes. “Is that really you in there?” she questioned.

“Why you little…”

In an instant Ron had Hermione lying on her back in the throes of laughter as he tortured her with his fingers.

“Ron, stop!” Hermione squealed. “That tickles!”

“It's supposed to,” Ron laughed. “That's why they call it tickling. Now say you're sorry.”

“I'm sorry!” Hermione shouted breathily through her tears. “I'm sorry!”

Ron stopped and eyed her for a moment before extending his hand to help her up. “Yes, Hermione, it's me in here. And I'm not acting as mature as you might think,” he reluctantly admitted. “The truth of the matter is I'd like to go and sock the bloody git!” He stood and pulled Hermione to her feet. “But I won't,” he said, pulling her into his arms for a hug. “I won't say that it'll be easy when or if the two of you get together…but I suppose it's something I'd have to live with innit? It's not like I could make you fall in love with me … even if I wanted to.”

“You mean you don't?”

Ron shook his head. “No. I'd never want to make anyone fall in love with me. Where's the fun in that? I'm sure it'll happen when it's meant to, right?”

Hermione nodded. “So I keep telling myself.”

“Come on, let's get back to the house. Harry's probably going spare wondering where the hell you are.”

Hermione put her arm around Ron's waist and snuggled against him as they walked back to the house together.

No sooner had they gotten to the clearing when a clearly irate Harry came running toward them. Hermione's heart fluttered with the darkening of Harry's eyes when they drifted from the arm Ron had around her shoulders to the one she had wrapped around his waist.

“And just where the have you two been?” Harry snapped.

Hermione's eyes never left Harry as she squeezed Ron and grinned. “Talking, Harry,” she said calmly, despite the hope she felt rising within her.

Ron and Hermione shared a knowing look and he rolled his eyes down at Harry. “Just talking, mate,” he said blithely. “She's all yours.”

Without another word Ron pulled his arm from around Hermione's shoulders and walked away without a backward glance, leaving a smiling Hermione and a confused Harry standing in his wake.

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A/N: Well, I had planned to quit at the first chapter and then H/Hr started having a conversation in my head. Needless to say…2 days of attempting to type it, cramped fingers from 12 pages [and 3 hours…until 2:30 am] of handwritten monologue, and another 2 days to transcribe it…here it is. *WHEW*

There is so much happening in here that I was afraid it would all be a bit overwhelming. However, I posted it elsewhere first - and they all seemed to think it was alright.

Most of what's in here are my own little theories about things that have happened in canon - and what I'm hoping to see in the 7<sup>th</sup>. I don't generally troll around the websites so I don't know much about the theories that are out there. That being said, anything that doesn't make sense can be blamed solely on me.

Thanks for reading…I hope to hear a lot of your opinions on this.

Terri

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Enlightenment

Harry stared after Ron for nearly a full minute before turning around to face Hermione with his thumb pointing back at Ron and his brow drawn together in confusion. “What was that?”

Hermione mirrored his expression and shrugged. “What was what?”

“That.” Harry jerked his thumb backward, “Ron.” He pointed at her, “you.” His face scrunched again, “You and Ron. What was that?”

Hermione gestured dismissively. “It was nothing, Harry. He is one of my best friends you know. We told you, we were talking.”

“About what?”

“Nothing!” Hermione exclaimed. “It was nothing.”

“You were gone an awfully long time to have talked about nothing, Hermione.”

Hermione crossed her arms and unwaveringly met his gaze. “What would you know of it, Harry?” she asked curtly. “I was given the impression that your attention was quite occupied by Ginny.”

Harry growled low in frustration. “I wasn't occupied by—”

He stopped abruptly and pointed, “I know that you were on that bench when Ron asked me to take his place in the game. When it was over, you were gone and I couldn't find you anywhere. We're in the middle of a war, Hermione,” his voice was rising, “it's not safe to just go wandering off.”

“Well obviously, Harry,” she snapped, “you didn't look hard enough because I didn't just go 'wandering off',” she quoted with her fingers, “I was right inside the clearing with Ron.”

Harry dropped his eyes to the ground. “Probably better I didn't find you then, innit?” he muttered.

Hermione raised a questioning eyebrow and clenched her teeth to rein in her anger. “Excuse me?”

Harry looked at her through narrowed eyes. “So, did you do it then?”

“What?” Hermione screeched, her eyes gone wide with the shock of his implication.

Harry's eyes reflected Hermione's when he realized what he'd said. “Not that, Hermione,” he said in a hushed tone.

“Did we do what then?”

“Did you finally get together?” asked Harry as he toed the ground.

“Excuse me?”

“Come on, Hermione,” he exclaimed. “You're too bright to be playing so dumb. You have to know it's been expected for years.” Harry refused to look up at her as he continued to ramble on. “And, well,” he shrugged, “yeah…it might be hard to accept at first, but I reckon I could get used to it with a little time. Although,” he glanced up briefly but not high enough to see her face, “I can't help but wonder where I'll be left in all this. Alone again, I expect,” he looked up to meet her steely gaze and added, “but nowhere I haven't been before.”

“Is that what you really think?” asked Hermione after taking a minute to fully wrap her mind around Harry's ramblings. “You really believe that Ron and I have been waiting for years to get together and now," she took an angry step forward, "at a time when you likely need us most," Harry took a small step back, "we're finally going to do it and then just leave you on your own?” She stared at him openly, incredulously, her anger clearly reflected in her eyes and in her stance as she waited for his defense.

Harry caught the slight clenching of her fist and jaw, saw the minute settling of her features, and cringed at the frustrated, 'Mmph' she released as she turned and walked away from his silence. A few steps later and she whirled around with a parting, “You know if that's how little you think of us then maybe you really do deserve to be alone.”

A half-second later she turned and stalked off toward the house.

It took Harry a full minute of watching her before he realized she wasn't planning to stop and turn around; another second later, and he was running after her. He wrapped his fingers around her arm and gently pulled her to a stop. “Hermione, wait,” he said quietly. “I'm sorry.”

“Do you really believe that I've been in love with Ron for years?” she asked without turning around.

“The thought had crossed my mind, yeah.”

Hermione took a deep breath and exhaled slowly as she turned to face him. “And what the earth gave you that idea?”

Harry tugged lightly on her arm. “Come on," he said, gesturing toward the bench, "let's go sit down.”

Hermione looked from Harry to the house and then frowned. “No."

Harry looked down at her with a frustrated sigh. "Fine—"

"I don't want to sit out here in the open,” she gestured with her head toward the woods, “let's go sit in the clearing instead.”

Harry nodded in relief and they walked together in silence until they reached the log where Hermione and Ron had been sitting not an hour before.

Once they were both settled Hermione asked again, “What ever gave you the idea that I fancied Ron?”

Harry shrugged. “Where do I start?" Hermione gave him a look that jumpstarted the cogs in his brain and he cleared his throat, "Well, there was the Yule Ball and the fight you had there at the end.”

Hermione shook her head and laughed blithely at the memory. “Ron was a git, Harry. He wasn't interested in asking me to the ball until he got desperate. Then, when he realized I cleaned up okay he decided to play jealous. It was stupid and insensitive on his part and I yelled at him because he felt it was okay to act like he was the injured party; when in truth, it was every girl out there for which he found some idiotic excuse to prove them unworthy of the great Ronald Weasley. He was looking for a trophy and he deserved to be yelled at.” Hermione closed her eyes and took a deep breath, willing herself to calm down. “He acted like a troll and I can assure you I didn't give him half of what he deserved that night.”

“All this time I thought you were angry he didn't ask you.”

Hermione sighed as she rolled her head around to face him. “If I'd wanted to go with Ron, I wouldn't have said yes to Victor so quickly, now would I?” she huffed. “If I'd been interested, I would've given Ron a chance…but I wasn't.”

“What about all the fighting and Lavender? And those canaries?" His eyes widened in horror at the memory of their attack on Ron. "It all seemed like fits of jealousy to me, Hermione.”

Hermione shrugged. “Maybe it was,” she bent down to pick up a twig and started bending it idly around her fingers, “but I wasn't jealous for the reasons you might think.”

“I don't understand.”

Hermione turned and contemplated him for a moment. “I'll tell you, but you have to let me tell it my own way. I think you'll need more than just an explanation about Ron and Lavender and the canaries to really understand what was happening last year.”

Harry sunk down to the ground and leaned back against the log to get comfortable. “Start wherever you like,” he said as he, too, picked up a twig and started twirling it in his fingers. “I'm not in any hurry.”

Hermione stood up and began to pace as she organized her thoughts. She stopped long enough to look down at him and ask, “First, did you notice I was a bit more distant from you then I'd been in the past? A bit less supportive?”

“Yeah,” Harry nodded. “But I figure you had your reasons and admittedly, I was a bit distracted myself.”

“I did have my reasons,” she affirmed. “After fifth year and the Department of Mysteries I spent a lot of time thinking while I was home and I made a vow to myself - a promise…” She pulled a piece of paper from her pocket and clenched it tightly in her hand. “I kept this with me at all times,” she held it up for him to see, “so that I'd never forget.”

Harry looked up at it with an inexplicable feeling of apprehension. “What's it say?” he asked hesitantly. “Will you show me?”

Hermione contemplated the paper for a moment before finally passing it down to Harry. Carefully, he opened it, it read like a journal entry…

3 July 1997

I've been doing nothing but thinking for the past couple of weeks and my thoughts have gotten me nowhere…and fast. It's all I can do to keep from running out the door and finding my way to Privet Drive to check on Harry. Once again he's alone to sit and ponder the things gone wrong in his life. All I want is to be there for him…but I don't know if he'd want me there now anyway. I doubt he'd be able to look at me without remembering what a miserable failure I was at the end of last term.

I can't do that to him again. I can't allow myself to fall into another scheme that'll likely get him killed. I spend so much time being afraid for him that I can't bother to be scared for myself anymore. So, I think I need to make a solemn oath…a vow to try my hardest to not fail him again. A vow to keep him safe and away from the next suicide mission…his saving-people-thing scares me.

I, Hermione Jane Granger, do solemnly vow to listen to my head and not my heart. I vow to discourage Harry from pursuing those things that will find him on the wrong end of a death eater's wand or at the mercy of someone (or something) that might seek to do him harm.

Signed,

Hermione J. Granger

Hermione watched Harry's face cloud over as he read. She saw the way his jaw clenched and his fingers tightened on the note he held in his hand. She waited until she saw that he had finished reading before she expelled the breath she'd held on to, despite the pressure building in her head.

When Harry lowered the note, Hermione lowered her head. “Please don't be angry with me, Harry,” she said quietly. “I've been so scared that you're on some kind of suicide mission that I just couldn't allow myself to encourage any part of it. All that stuff with Snape and Malfoy…I had to force myself to give you cardboard excuses that I knew you'd get from Professor Lupin and Mr. Weasley because I couldn't stand the thought of you running out there to try and single-handedly prevent them from completing whatever sinister plot you believed them to be guilty of,” she said in one hurried breath. She flumped down on the ground beside him and tried to meet his eyes. “I had hoped that without the proper encouragement, you wouldn't take the risk.”

“But I was right this time, Hermione,” said Harry evenly and without blame.

Hermione nodded and wiped at her eyes. “I know you were. And I'm sorry, Harry…I really am.”

“I can, believe it or not, understand your reasoning,” he said amiably. “I have been on a bit of a conspiracy thing for, oh, about six years now.”

Hermione tried to laugh but the sound was mirthless. “When I got to the Burrow, I talked to Ron about it. I told him that we needed to watch out for you…that because of Sirius's—”

“Death…”

“Yes,” Hermione nodded, “because of Sirius's death you might be more on edge than usual and you might try to find conspiracy where, in fact, there was none, just to justify your anger. I thought you might've looked for any opportunity to strike out as a way to ease your pain.”

Harry looked thoughtful as he remembered the first morning he'd seen Hermione at the Burrow. “That would explain the way you looked at me when you saw me that first morning.”

“I was watching for signs of mental stress and anger…toward me. I'd spent weeks worrying about you, Harry. I was quite frightened at the prospect of what I'd find when I saw you again. Surely you can understand that.”

“I've never blamed you, Hermione.”

“But I was the only one who could get through to you, Harry…and I didn't take advantage of that. I should've made you try harder to reach Sirius…I could've found a way to stall until it was too late to go. You wouldn't listen to reasoning…but then finally you listened to me. And I let you down…and in the process, got Sirius killed.”

Harry contemplated her for a moment. “I'm sorry,” he said softly. “I never realized you felt that way. Why didn't you say anything? How could you go on thinking like that?”

“You hardly talked about Sirius,” she said in an equally soft voice. “And I didn't want to burden you further. You've had enough to be getting on with, don't you think?”

“I had other ways of contacting him, Hermione. In fact, I had a surefire way of contacting him that I'd neglected to consider until it was too late. It wasn't your fault. You tried to make me think clearly…and you nearly succeeded. There was nothing you could've done to stop me from going…” he looked straight into her eyes and reaffirmed, “nothing.”

Hermione nodded her assent. “Anyway, Ron agreed with me that the last thing you needed was a couple of sideline cheerleaders and that we should try to discourage you from pursuing anything that could, potentially, cause you harm,” she snapped the twig she held in her hand, “and we did,” she said tightly, “for a while.”

“Keep going,” Harry encouraged when she fell silent.

“It was when Ginny started in on Ron that things began to change. You remember she started going off about how he was jealous and that he'd get over it if he just snogged someone already?”

Harry nodded and Hermione stood up to pace. “She told him that even I'd kissed Victor and then something in Ron just snapped. Suddenly it became more important to him to have someone to fool around with and he hooked up with Lavender. It was then that he seemed to have forgotten what we'd talked about and instead of discouraging you, he started fighting against me by encouraging you…like he was making me pay for having kissed Victor or something.”

“Hermione, I don't think—”

Hermione wasn't listening. “When you got hold of the damned book,” she shook her head, “he encouraged you to use it, despite the fact that he had first-hand knowledge of how dangerous a book can be - hell, he only had to look at Ginny to know that a book can be just as dangerous as any weapon. He was so caught up in examining Lavender's tonsils that he forgot about everything that mattered. And then there was Ginny…”

Harry noticeably tensed, but Hermione didn't call him on it. Instead, she kept on talking. “You know she wanted you so badly that she felt it necessary to talk me down in front of you? Did you even realize that?”

Harry shook his head. “I don't think so,” he said quietly.

“Yes, well,” Hermione waved dismissively, “it doesn't matter. What matters is that I was angry because one minute we were all about protecting you and the next minute it became you, Ron, and Ginny standing against me…and I came out looking like the bad guy.”

“But you were right about the book, Hermione,” Harry said as he stood to stand beside her.

“But I was wrong about Snape and Malfoy. I was wrong not to help you when you needed me.” She turned her back on him and wiped her eyes. “The one time I chose not to listen, chose not to help, and—”

She sniffled.

Harry put his hands on her arms and tried to offer her comfort. “It wasn't your fault.”

Hermione shook herself from his grasp and took a few steps forward. “Those birds,” she tried to laugh again but the sound was tired and worn. “You were there with me in that room, offering me comfort in the only way you knew how - through friendship - when Ron and I were again at odds with one another.” She turned around to look him in the eyes. “Do you know how few times you've actually chosen me over Ron during one of our tiffs?”

Harry shook his head but held her gaze.

Hermione sniffled again and chuckled flatly. “Well let me just say that it was a huge surprise to see you walk through that door.”

“I'm sorry,” said Harry softly. “I never realized…”

She waved him off again. “It took me a while to understand it, but I finally figured it out…and there's no need for apologies, Harry.”

Harry tried to smile and make light of his concern. “Care to explain? I can be a bit thick sometimes.”

Hermione's smile never reached her eyes. “I've always been there for you…well,” she shrugged dishearteningly, “until last school year anyway…”

“Hermione,” said Harry with a clear note of warning.

She ignored him.

“Even when you were taking Ron's side over mine, I was there for you. I tried to be the one thing that you could always count on no matter what you were going through. It took me a while, but I finally understood that although you never once acknowledged it, you still knew that you could count on me to be there when it was over. After fourth year especially, I think you realized that you couldn't count on Ron to be there in the same way that I would be. By taking his side, you were assured that you'd have us both in the end.”

Harry shook his head incredulously. “Am I really that selfish?”

“It's not selfish,” Hermione said as she laid her hand on his arm, “it's survival. You did what you had to do to keep us all together. You've helped our friendship to survive all these pitfalls that Ron and I seem to find ourselves falling in to. It was wise, Harry, don't ever think it could be anything else.”

“Thank you,” he said quietly as he placed his hand over hers and squeezed her fingers. “I don't think I've ever said that.”

Hermione laughed. “Don't thank me yet. I haven't finished telling you everything.”

“You mean there's more?” teased Harry, although he was anxious to hear it.

Hermione moved to sit down in front of the log and gestured for Harry to sit beside her. “I knew that you fancied Ginny last year. Or, well,” she shrugged, “I suspected as much, what with your incessant inquiries into her relationship with Dean.” She shot him a sideways glance and smirked at the slight reddening of his cheeks. “Anyway, the one thing I couldn't figure out was where it came from. But then I realized that it didn't matter…not really. Nothing mattered so long as you were happy.”

She looked over at him and rolled her eyes. “Birds,” she said unenthusiastically. “When we were in that room together there was a part of me that wished…” she closed her eyes and took a deep breath as she tried to pucker up the courage to continue. She released the breath slowly, biding her time.

“What is it, Hermione?” he asked. “We're friends, you know you can trust me.”

“Yeah,” Hermione sighed. She wiped her eyes and cleared her throat. “There was a part of me that wished you fancied me right then, and not Ginny. For just that minute I wanted someone who could hold me and kiss me and tell me that everything would be alright. Then Ron came in with Lavender…” she shook her head at the memory, “a visible reminder of exactly what I didn't have and it hit me…hard.”

“So you sent the canaries flying after him…”

Hermione raised her brow agreeably and nodded. “It was timing, Harry, that's all. I wasn't jealous of Ron and Lavender, per se…I guess I was more jealous of what they had - even if it was purely physical.”

“Wow! Okay,” exclaimed Harry. “But that was short-lived, right? With me, I mean. It wasn't long after that you seemed happy that Ginny and I got together.”

“Sometimes you get straight to the heart of it, don't you?”

Harry grinned and shrugged.

Hermione contemplated him for a moment then said, “Ron asked me today what I see when I look at him.”

The declaration took Harry by surprise, “And?” he blurted.

“I told him the truth. I told him that I loved him…”

Harry's eyes darkened and he kept his lips tightly pursed as he waited for her to continue.

“But that I'm not in love with him. He's like a brother to me and I love him very much for that.” She eyed Harry for a moment in silence before she turned away and simply stated, “I don't know why I told you that.”

Harry put his hand on her arm and quietly replied, “But I'm glad you did.”

“As for your question about you,” she cocked her head and searched his eyes. “Is that something you want the full and complete answer to, or are you looking for the abridged version?”

“You tell me.”

“First off you have to understand that I was happy for you, Harry. I never lied about that.”

“But—?”

“No buts,” Hermione waved it away, “not really. You needed a distraction and Ginny provided it. That was far more important than anything I might've thought or felt. You needed her and I, for one, was glad she was there…”

“It didn't feel real,” Harry quietly interrupted.

“Hmm?”

“That time with Ginny,” he cocked his head and shrugged slightly, “not to mention the time I spent lusting after her when she was with Dean. None of it felt real. And when Dumbledore died, it was like a fog was lifted and I began to see things with a lot more clarity. You were right, Hermione, I needed the distraction that Ginny provided, but what I don't need is Ginny - not anymore.”

“You said it was time for you to move forward alone - which, of course, Ron and I will never allow - but I expect you'll change your mind once the war is over. Who knows, maybe Ginny is the one you'll decide you want to spend the rest of your life with.”

Harry studied her closely and shook his head. “I don't think so,” he said slowly, contemplatively. “I think that one's over and I can't see myself looking back as I try to move forward. Kind of defeats the purpose of moving on, don't you think?”

Hermione shrugged. “Sometimes I don't know what I think. Other times I find it easier not to bother trying at all.”

Harry turned his entire body until he was seated facing her. “Did you know…” he pursed his lips as though debating whether or not to continue, then he sighed, “that Ron said your name when he was in the hospital after he was poisoned?”

“Probably realized I was right and that he should've listened to me when I warned you both to be careful about what you eat and drink.”

Harry shook his head. “No, I don't think that was it.”

“Then what was it?”

“I think that he either realized how close he came to dying and how badly he'd been treating his best friends. Or,” he pursed his lips again, “he really fancied himself in love with you.”

Hermione clicked her tongue and rolled her eyes as though conveying that that was the stupidest thing she'd heard in a long time.

“What?”

“Let me ask you something…”

Harry waited in silence.

“Do you remember when I was helping Ron with his homework and he blurted out, `I love you, Hermione' to me?”

Harry nodded bodily.

“Tell me what else you remember.”

He cocked his head as he tried to conjure the memory then shook it when he drew a blank. “Nothing, really…just something about not telling Lavender,” he said with a shrug as his voice faded away.

“Thank you! My point exactly,” said Hermione with a curt nod. “If there was more to it than friendship don't you think at least one of us would've reacted to Ron's declaration?”

“I guess so, yeah…”

“So, don't you think that if Ron was in love with me he would've found the courage to break it off with Lavender…especially after he'd just expressed his supposed feelings for me?”

Harry shrugged. “Yeah…”

“Love is a strong emotion, Harry. It can do a lot of strange things to people. It can lift you up…or knock you down. It can make you laugh…or make you cry. It can make you fly…or make you fall. But what it doesn't do, Harry, is it doesn't make a person act the way Ron did. If he was in love with me, and truly believed that there was a chance that we could be together, he would've left Lavender instead of waiting for her to leave him.” She stared into Harry's eyes with a look of seriousness that defied even her most earnest moments from the past. “Why would you love the one you're with when the one you want is single and sitting right there in front of you?”

Harry hadn't realized that his mouth fell open until he felt his jaw snap closed. He stared at her for a long, interminable minute, before he whispered a soft, “You're right.”

“Excuse me?”

“I said you're right,” he repeated. “Why love the one you're with when the one you want is right in front of you?”

“You look like you've had an epiphany or something. Care to share your brilliant deduction?”

Harry's eyes remained unfocused as he shook his head. “I'm not sure that I can…”

“O-kay.” Hermione leaned her head back against the log and waited in silence while Harry sorted out whatever was on his mind.

“Hermione?”

“Hmm?”

“Do you believe it's possible for a person to repress their feelings to the point where they don't even know they exist?”

Hermione sat up and looked at him. “I don't know,” she answered honestly. “I suppose if there's a good enough reason for it, anything is possible. Why?”

Harry stared at her in silent wonder before raising a tentative hand to touch her cheek. He dropped it almost immediately then closed his eyes and whispered softly to himself, “I do not want a reason to push her away…I do not want a reason to push her away…I do not want a reason—”

Hermione touched her hand to his. “If you're talking about me then barring actual, physical death, there's not a thing in this world that could keep me away from you, Harry,” she promised. “You couldn't push me far enough or fast enough to get rid of me without one hell of a fight.”

Harry opened his eyes, which were filled with a depth of emotion that Hermione had never seen reflected in them before…and it kept her quiet. “What if the reason these feelings are repressed, is fear? Is fear a good enough reason, do you suppose?”

“Fear of what?” asked Hermione. “Fear of rejection? Fear for safety? What kind of fear are we talking about here?”

“Safety foremost,” Harry said with assurance. “But maybe a bit of rejection, too.”

Hermione turned slightly to face him more fully and muttered an affirming, “I think it's definitely a valid reason for repression.”

“I have this `in' with Voldemort. And it works both ways. The girls I've been attracted to, they were misunderstood ideals of love, and you know…” he stopped talking and his eyes opened wide with realization.

“What, Harry?” asked Hermione anxiously as she watched him drift further and further into his thoughts. “What is it?”

“You know,” he continued slowly, “I don't know where those thoughts came from. Like you said earlier, you didn't understand where my sudden obsession with Ginny came from, but what if—”

“What are you saying?” asked Hermione, her brow furrowed with worry. “Are you thinking maybe Voldemort has more control over your thoughts and emotions than you've realized before now?”

Harry shook his head. “Not entirely, no. But what if he's erected some kind of barrier or he's sending me some kind of subliminal messages or something that are somehow preventing me from seeing beyond the initial lust? What if he's preventing me from seeing what's right in front of me - true, real, everlasting, lifelong...” he paused, “love?”

“I'm not sure he could do that,” said Hermione though without much conviction. “That's a lot of control, isn't it? Wouldn't you have cottoned on by now if he was doing something so manipulative as that?”

“Not necessarily, you know…not if I wasn't expecting it. I can see through Voldemort's eyes and I can feel myself in his skin…and I don't think he always knows when I'm there. Who's to say that he couldn't do the same to me? Who's to say that the monster in my chest wasn't Voldemort himself?”

“Monster?”

Harry brushed it away. “Never mind that now, I'll explain later.” He grasped her arms and shook her gently. “Look at me, Hermione,” he breathed. Hermione remained quiet as she looked straight into his eyes. “What if his goal is to distract me from finding love - the power he knows not.”

Hermione began to wave her hands back and forth between them. “Hang on a second,” she said clearly frustrated. “First off, if it's the power he knows not, how would he know to distract you from it?”

Harry smiled at the confused way her brow drew together. “He learned in our fourth year that it was love that saved me as a baby. Do you really think it's too much of a stretch to assume he'd figure out that love could play an even bigger role in his ultimate defeat? What better way to assure his own victory then to keep me searching for my greatest weapon in all the wrong places?”

“All right,” Hermione conceded. “I can see your point. But I still don't know what you're getting at. Are you saying that if he is, indeed, manipulating your emotions, you've discovered what he's tried to keep hidden? Or, have you just uncovered the truth of what he's doing so now you know to look past the initial lust for some sort of deeper connection?”

Harry pressed his hand against her cheek and searched her eyes…her face. “What I'm saying is that I think I've been repressing my feelings…for you. I've been scared to open my eyes to the real thing because Voldemort will look right through me and he'll know. I didn't want to know what real love felt like until I could put Voldemort and that damned prophecy behind me. But now—”

Hermione's hand reached for his where it still rested against her cheek. “But now?”

“But now I realize that true love lies with the one person who would never leave me…the one person strong enough to help me face my demons straight on…the one person who has always stood beside me, who would never allow me to go it alone. I think I'm in love you, Hermione.”

Hermione smiled as the tears pooled in her eyes and slowly drifted down her cheeks. “I love you, Harry…and you're right,” she leaned forward and kissed him chastely on the lips, “I will never leave you - Voldemort be damned - this battle has been won…”

“And now the war is nearly over,” Harry concluded. He pulled her into his arms and kissed the side of her head. “What did Ron say when you told him how you felt?” he asked softly against her ear.

“He said that I set him free,” Hermione replied as she pulled back and looked into his eyes. “He said that it might be hard, but that he could learn to accept it if you and I ever got our chance.”

“This is our chance, Hermione.”

“And I'm not letting anyone take this away, Harry.”

“Nor am I,” said Harry with quiet conviction. “Nor am I.”

-Fin-

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A/N2: My friend wanted me to add an all-out snogging session here at the end but I didn't find it an appropriate time for that. I like this ending…I think it suits the story well. [I do think she was half-joking but, well…]

Thanks again.

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