One Shot H/Hr.
Premise: Ron wins the final Quidditch match of the season and finally gets with Hermione. Harry doesn't take it well and realises his feelings for Hermione when he finally loses her to Ron. The scene is set in the night after Ron's victory party. Harry is sitting alone by fire….
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It had been one of those days, a great day. Gryffindor Quidditch victory parties could be compared to little in terms of raucous celebrations in the Wizarding world. The tight circular common room was transfigured into a veritable cauldron of noise, butterbeer flowed (along with a few other substances smuggled in by enterprising students) and sweets and victory foods of every description were gobbled up on all sides, leading to more than one sore belly the next morning. It was an atmosphere within which it was hard not to revel.
But there always had to be one.
For every rule there is an exception. On this occasion, most inexplicably to all around, this exception was Harry Potter.
Of all the unusual sights one was likely to come across during a term at Hogwarts, for there were unthinkable possibilities, this one ranked right up there with ghosts, talking suits of armour and a pleasant Slytherin. Harry Potter not celebrating another Quidditch triumph was something that belonged in an alternate universe. But on this night Harry, himself, felt like he might have just slipped into one. There was even a part of him that couldn't believe he wasn't downing Butterbeers with the others. But he didn't feel in the celebratory mood.
In fact, he felt quite the opposite. It was as if he'd lost something, the most precious thing he could ever attain. It had been there to try for and he'd missed it, ignored it, not even registered it. And it was at this moment, when all hope seemed lost and his world was bleakest, that he finally realised what he had been craving for so long. And now it was out of reach.
When he'd been younger and under the dictatorship of the Dursleys, Harry had often dreamed of some unknown relative coming to whisk him away to a happier life. He thought this had happened with Sirius, then that was snatched from him. Now, sitting quite solitary in the corner surrounded by the hullabaloo of the party, Harry realised that what he actually wanted was to create a family of his own, to right the wrongs of his upbringing. And for the first time he could see someone with whom he could do just that. And, also for the first time, it was out of his reach.
For Ron had secured two victories that day. After the Quidditch final he had finally gotten what he'd wanted all along - Hermione. She'd thrown herself onto him in an embrace Harry recognised as an almost carbon-copy of his own victory snog with Ginny a year earlier. The effect though, was markedly different.
Harry hadn't been to the Quidditch match. He had been off destroying the third Horcrux on his list and the effort had left him exhausted and drained. He hadn't told anyone he was going and had slipped out while everyone else was down at the Quidditch Pitch watching the final. Destroying a Horcrux, Harry had discovered early on, was more about a battle of wills with that part of Voldemort's soul than actually magic. And each one had required more and more will and effort. This particular one had almost killed him.
He had sneaked back in using his invisibility cloak, thankful that the match had taken a spectacularly long time to complete because neither team's Seeker was anything special. He dropped down into a seat in the corner, still under the cloak, and turned in time to see Hermione plant her kiss on Ron. The sight itself didn't seem to shock him; it was the bottom falling out of his stomach that achieved this. The cloak slipped down his face and fell into his lap, and he was too stunned to move it, leaving him looking like a floating torso. Hermione looked up from her kiss and caught Harry's eye. Her first look was shock probably, Harry reasoned, because of the state of him. He must have looked like he'd been tag-team wrestling with Grawp and Hagrid. The second was the look he knew was in his eyes, one of numbing sadness that he knew Hermione would have read straight away.
For there had been a fleeting instant, probably no more than a few seconds in real time, within which Harry and Hermione locked gazes. In that time, as had happened so many times before, a sort of communication passed between them and Harry knew that his first realisation of the most powerful feeling he'd ever felt had been shown to the one person he'd want to keep it from.
Hermione hadn't come to see him, not even to ask if he was okay. She's too busy, he thought bitterly. He had the impression that she was trying to get his attention because he could see her from the corner of his eye, bouncing her head left and right to try and get into his eye line. He resolutely stared in other directions until Hermione's antics grew so tiresome that Harry moved into an empty chair by the fire and stared into the crackling flames.
Throughout the course of a boisterous evening Harry refused several entreaties to join in the festivities. He even barked at a couple of eager fourth year girls who asked him to join their table twice. After that nobody seemed brave enough to venture near him. He was glad, he felt like he just wanted to be left alone to his convoluted thoughts.
He couldn't understand why this had happened. Okay, so he and Hermione had been getting a little closer recently but they had never been anything but platonic; good friends, nothing more. Harry chuckled to himself; even in his head he knew these words were a lie. The truth was that he'd been watching Ron and Hermione getting closer together and growing steadily jealous of his best friend. There had been a few moments on the Horcrux trail when he'd found himself just staring at Hermione and she'd caught him watching. She'd even seemed a bit teasing and flirty when she'd questioned him about what he was doing. He'd thought… but now she was with Ron. She was lost forever and Harry felt as though his world was empty.
The common room thinned slowly. As butterbeer dried up and tiredness crept in, the Gryffindors retired to bed in twos and threes. It was an unearthly morning hour by the time Harry was confident that the room was empty. He wasn't tired but at the same time he couldn't sit by the fire anymore - the flames had gone out long ago. Turning his chair, Harry was startled by the mention of his own name.
`Harry?'
His heart sank. It was Hermione. She was at the foot of the stairs leading to the girls' dormitory wearing a puce dressing gown. Harry turned his chair again and slumped back into its' worn depths.
`Harry?' Hermione asked again. Harry could hear her crossing the floor. `What's wrong?'
`Nothing,' Harry lied. His words choked in his throat.
`Your high-pitched voice disagrees,' said Hermione. She pulled another chair close to the fire, poked her wand at the grate and relit the flames.
`There's nothing wrong with me,' said Harry in a forced voice. `Why don't you just go to bed?'
`I've been trying to get to talk to you all night and I'm not going to bed until I have.'
`Well, you have now, you can go.'
`That's nice,' said Hermione.
`I'm sorry, I just don't feel like talking,' said Harry. `And what was stopping you coming over and talking to me? Confunded or something?'
`No, well…I was, er…otherwise engaged,' said Hermione blushing.
`Yeah, that much I could see.'
`What's with the tone?' asked Hermione.
`There isn't a tone? Why would there be a tone?'
`Well I just asked you that,' said Hermione. `What's up? Don't tell me you've got a problem with me and Ron?'
Harry had been expecting this question and had a quick retort ready. When it came, however, he found himself oddly tongue tied. The mood in the common room changed with his silence.
`Harry? Is that it?' said Hermione. `You don't like seeing me and Ron like, well…you know.'
`Don't be stupid,' Harry spat. He fished quickly for a subject changed. `I went for a Horcrux, you know?'
`Don't change the subject - hang on, what do you mean "you went for a Horcrux?" Surely you didn't go on your own?'
`I did…I and don't call me Shirley.'
`Harry, that isn't funny,' said Hermione.
`I thought it was, I saw it on a film once.'
`No, not that. You went out alone? That's why you look like you look so terrible.'
`Make me feel better why don't you?' said Harry.
`Have you any idea how dangerous going off alone is?' said Hermione looking a little faint. `Anything could have happened to you.'
`Well it didn't so stop worrying,' said Harry. `You'd have coped anyway. Not like you're on you own, is it?'
`Harry, what's this all about?' said Hermione. `Why all this anger? Am I missing something?'
`Clearly.'
Hermione sat back and folded her arms, piercing Harry with a look he didn't meet. `Listen, if you want to be in a bad mood, fine. But there's no use being snappy and all misunderstood with me if you won't tell me what's wrong. How can I help you if you keep being like this?'
Harry looked at the floor and mumbled a, `sorry'.
`You haven't got to be sorry,' said Hermione brightly, `but if there's a problem you have with me and Ron you can tell me. We might be able to work it out.'
`Not on this one,' said Harry with a sigh.
`So there is something wrong then?' Hermione asked. Harry just nodded. `And I take it you aren't just going to tell me?' Harry nodded again. `Boys should be more open,' said Hermione exasperatedly.
`Boys aren't often like that,' said Harry. `And girls aren't much, either.'
`Okay, let's think this out,' said Hermione, more to herself than Harry. `There are three possibilities. One: you don't like us being a couple, or maybe you feel left out. Hmm, that has its merits. Two: you want to go out with Ron and you're jealous because I am. I take it from your look that we can forget that one. Three is that you're secretly in love with me. That's too laughable to consider, isn't it? Isn't it?'
Harry had looked away when point three was started. When Hermione had finished the point she'd giggled, clearly expecting Harry to laugh too. She repeated the question to his silence. An awkward pause followed but when Hermione finally spoke again her voice was much softer.
`H-Harry?' she asked tentatively. `Harry, say something to me.'
`Something,' said Harry.
Hermione leaned forward in her chair and Harry edged further away in response.
`Harry? I-I wasn't right, was I? Please tell me I wasn't? And remember, you've never lied to me about something this big before.'
`And I'm not going to start now,' said Harry. `So that's the only answer I can give you.'
`Oh, Harry…' said Hermione. `I don't know what to say.'
`I'm not sure there is anything to say,' said Harry.
`When did you first…I mean, how long have you felt…oh dear,' said Hermione sounding thoroughly despairing.
`I don't know really,' said Harry. `I was sort of in the middle before I even realised I'd begun. It's been coming on so gradually I hardly noticed. But when I saw you and Ron tonight…it sort of all came home.'
Hermione didn't answer at once. Harry immediately wished he hadn't said anything at all. The atmosphere seemed somehow worse than anything he could have imagined.
`And what about Ginny?' asked Hermione. `How is she?'
`Fine, I believe.'
`You believe?'
`Yeah. It turned out Ginny wasn't the one for me after all. Any attachment I had to her went even quicker than it came. I haven't spoken to her for months.'
Hermione went silent again for a time. Harry could hear his breathing and thought how stupid this whole thing was. He dearly wished he knew what Hermione was thinking. He was about to ask her when-
`Damn!' she cried. `Damn it! Damn it! DAMN IT!'
`Hermione?'
`Harry, why didn't you say anything? Why didn't you tell me? Why have you picked until now, the worst moment imaginable, to tell me?'
`I didn't,' said Harry. `I wasn't going to tell you.'
`That's not very fair, is it?' said Hermione.
`Excuse me? What has fair got to do with anything?'
`Well don't you think I ought to know?' asked Hermione. `If you feel that way for me don't you think it's the kind of thing to tell me?'
`Um, no,' said Harry. `And especially not now. Besides, why would you want to know?'
`Honestly, Harry! How many reasons do I need? What if I felt the same, don't you think I'd want to know then?'
`But you don't,' said Harry flatly. `You're with Ron, you've always liked him better.'
`You only think that because you've been too busy with others to notice me,' said Hermione.
`What's that supposed to mean?'
`Well, let's see. Cho, Ginny,' Hermione counted them off on her fingers. `You've never shown interest like that in me.'
`Well you haven't given me any encouragement,' Harry protested.
`Should I have?' Hermione replied. `I'm just a plain girl. Why would I be enough for famous Harry Potter?'
`Because you're closer to me than any other girl has ever, or could ever, be. Besides, who said you were plain? I haven't ever said that.'
`But you haven't said that I'm pretty, either.'
`Um, Yule Ball in fourth year was just a figment of you imagination, was it?' said Harry. `I couldn't take my eyes off you all night.'
`Yeah, I did notice,' said Hermione smiling coyly. `Oh Harry. You've made things so difficult for me!'
`How? I'm not expecting anything from you.'
`So does what I want not matter then?' Hermione asked.
`Huh? What do you want?'
`You, Harry. It's always been you.'
Harry started. He looked at Hermione hard. He didn't want to believe her words but his heart was lightening in spite of itself.
`Why didn't you say anything?' he asked.
`What could have I said, or when?' said Hermione. `Like I said, you've had a couple of girls as your main interests already. Both of them are pretty and sporty and I'm neither. How can I compare?'
Harry moved in and put his hand to her face. `I think you're pretty. Let's get past that one before you use it too many times.'
`What am I going to do?' she said, sounding slightly desperate. `What am I going to tell Ron?'
`I think its best that he doesn't know about this,' said Harry. `I don't think he'll speak to me ever again if he knows I fancy his girlfriend.'
`Harry - you can't expect me to go out with Ron now?'
`Of course I do,' said Harry. `There's no point us both being on our own.'
`Neither of us will be,' said Hermione.
`I don't follow.'
`My, you are dim,' said Hermione. `I'm going to go out with you.'
Harry simply stared at her for a moment. `How…what…I don't…how are you going to do that?'
`Well, I'll have to finish with Ron first, oh…he wont be happy,' said Hermione sounding anxious. `And then we'll start going out.'
`That's gonna look great, isn't it?'
`I know, people are going to say horrible things about me,' said Hermione. `I'll probably be the most hated woman at Hogwarts.'
`And what about me?' said Harry. `Whatever people will think about you will be just as bad for me. And Ron won't speak to either of us again.'
`There is that,' Hermione added thoughtfully. `But I love you, Harry, and I'm willing to take all that scorn to be with you. There's no way I could be with Ron, or anyone, knowing how you feel about me. What about you? Can you deal with it?'
`I've probably dealt with worse,' said Harry. `But this just feels so wrong.'
Hermione got up and moved closer to Harry, stopping suddenly in front of him. Without any warning she turned and sat in his lap, slipping her arms around his shoulders. Harry shivered with the contact. He looked into Hermione's eyes, alight and reflecting the fire. She pulled his head to hers and kissed him. It wasn't like any kiss Harry had ever experienced; not like it was with Cho and a world away from the slobbering kisses he got from Ginny. This was sensual and emotional, intense and gentle and a hundred other things all at once. All too soon, Hermione broke it off.
`Did that feel wrong?' she asked breathlessly.
Harry couldn't answer. He was locked in a world so far removed from Hogwarts that he never wanted to leave it. He felt himself being guided to his feet and across the common room, Hermione's hands fumbling in his robes. She took out his Invisibility Cloak and opened the portrait hole. She was leading him to the lake, the scene of many of their intimate moments, where, if they had time, they might discuss Horcruxes and Quidditch. All other things could wait until morning.
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