Two Plus One Equals Three

1. Sweet Delusions

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Two plus one equals three.

The math was simple: three equaled two plus one.

Sometimes it was just the little signs that would hint of something else. It could have been the low-frequency discussions that took place or perhaps the superfluous touches but the fact remained, they were there.

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Maybe it was because the blissful ignorance was less painful than agonizing recognition. Either way, Harry went on day after day under the same illusion but just dimly wondering when it would all shatter.

`Mate, you don't mind if Hermione and I go to The Three Broomsticks first do you?'

`Nah. I'll meet up with both of you later.”

`Cheers mate.'

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Just grasping for the fragile illusion.

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The harbinger of the loss of a dream came in the form of two on a lethargic spring day.

`Harry, we wanted to tell you before it really got out.'

`Tell me what?'

But a minute split in that poisoning sweetness of a mirage with more yet to come.

`Ron and I are together.'

`Together?'

When would the first piece of a shattered castle in the sky fall?

`Like boyfriend and girlfriend. Are you okay with it?'

`Yeah, I'm fine with it.'

`Okay.'

Someone was definitely lying.

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A/N: Critiques are welcome. Please voice your opinions.

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2. Hurtful Lies

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Harry could hear the passing whispers as he trailed slightly behind Hermione and Ron.

`So they're together finally?'

`Yeah, about time they are. How long does it take for two people to find out they like each other?'

All Harry could do was clench his fist and hope for the once sweet delusion to come again.

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Hermione noticed it of course: the gradual isolation. At times when she walked with Ron she would look back to see Harry lost like a forgotten afterthought.

In the darkness of a random broom cupboard and when both of them were panting from breathless kisses, it was then Hermione thought about something else. Or more correctly, someone else.

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The fire was burning merrily in the common room and other people filled the room with a hum of conversation. Harry was reading again on the couch he always sat when Hermione and Ron were “out for a walk”.

`Hi.' Hermione was there in front of Harry.

`Hi.' Harry tried not to show the surprise on his face. Why wasn't she with Ron?

Hermione sat down and Harry returned to his book again.

This was how their sparse conversations occurred except it was usually at this time Harry would excuse himself politely and leave without another word and Hermione would stare at his retreating back, wishing for something.

This time it was different. Harry was still there and Hermione held her breath to say something.

`You haven't been here much.' Hermione finally lets out lamely.

Harry glances at her but sees nothing and so takes interest in his book again. `I have things to do.'

`Do you mind Ron and I being together?' The question comes out like an unexpected thorn.

An infinite number of possibilities but which to take?

`No, no I don't mind at all.”

In the end, the truth hurt.

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Ron was out fulfilling some obligation as Quidditch captain and Harry was doing homework with Hermione nearby.

`Does Ron make you feel whole?' Harry asks in a disinterested tone but deep down, it's a question that burns.

`I love him.'

`But does he make you feel complete?'

`Of course.'

The little white lies weaving their webs.

`That's good then.'

But was it?

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A/N: As said before, please voice your opinions.

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3. Young and Unaware

They were together again on their “walk”.

It was while their lips sought the others for solace, one couldn't help but think of what the hair in between her clutching fingers would feel if black would replace red. She questioned whether she would relish the feel of cold metal of a pair of glasses on her skin. She wondered whether that person would fill the empty abyss.

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That time had come again. Harry was alone in the common room again and nearly all had left, gone to the land of dreams. That is an exception for one boy however.

`Aren't you going to bed Harry?' Neville asked.

Harry looked up to see the other boy's worried face. `No, no, I think I'll stay a little more.'

They stay silent for a little while the fire crackling away fills the stillness.

`You know,' Neville starts in a hesitant voice. `You know, you aren't afraid of being alone without them.'

Harry looks up quickly. What nonsense was he talking about? `What…'

`You're just afraid of being alone without her.' Neville quickly cuts in. `Aren't you?'

Both of them stare at each other and when finally one of them makes a movement, it's a slight nod.

Together, they talk of all sorts of things: Herbology, Quidditch, even Neville's forgetfulness. As they talk, Harry realizes, Neville is certainly not the dim person as everyone so thought.

When finally the portrait door opens and admits a boy and a girl, Neville and Harry both stand up and walk up to the dormitories without saying a word to the new arrivals. No words are necessary; the action should speak for itself.

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When the hoot of an owl could be heard somewhere in the distance and the other occupant's in the room breathed softly and rhythmically, Hermione liked to peruse through her photographic collection.

The smiling faces of a youthful trio beamed. Hermione's finger would linger on a particular photograph and wonder how long it had been since it had been taken, too long.

People change, she thought. I've changed, she added. Then the painful throb would thud in her chest as she wistfully wished to be once again young and unaware. She watched as the young Hermione attempted to dodge a hug aimed by an equally young Ron. Her lips crinkled as she saw Harry laugh and laugh harder as the other two tackled him.

So young and so unaware.

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The common room, it seemed, became a neutral ground where the only conversations that would occur between Harry and Hermione would take place. They sat next to each other on the couch, not too near but not too far away.

`I…' Hermione says and then lets out a breath. Harry looks at her.

Hermione is not a romantic. She would think of it silly to write mysterious love letters on Valentine's or to absentmindedly doodle a boy's name on a good piece of parchment.

So it was truly unexpected to Harry to hear Hermione start with the word “I” and have a face burning red.

Harry waits and cannot help notice that his pulse had become a little stronger and his breaths became a little shallower.

`I…' Hermione trails off.

Two plus one equals three.

Harry waits and holds his breath.

`I am not complete without you.' Hermione finishes quickly.

Three plus zero also equaled three.

`You aren't?' Harry asks without looking at Hermione. At the corner of his eye, he sees her nod.

Thee plus zero equals three but that will please no one, especially when they are no longer young and unaware.

`Well then, you had better choose quickly,' Harry says as he gets up, `or the emptiness might break you.'

They were no longer young and unaware.

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A/N: I think I should apologize profusely for the snogging scene in the first part. Also, I should maintain that I am a firm HHr fan and I am fully aware that this is portkey. So for those who may sincerely doubt the premise of this story, just wait a little longer. I'll try and make this as less painful as I can and more enjoyable. Promise.

Thankyou to those who reviewed. I'll try and take all that you said to heart.

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4. Two Roads

`Two roads diverged in a yellow wood.' Neville came from behind Hermione and sat on the same couch as she was reading.

`Excuse me?' Hermione asked politely. Neville seemed to have the uncanny ability to approach quietly when he was not clumsy.

`It's from the poem The Road Not Taken by Robert Frost. Haven't you heard of it?' Neville smiled. `I think you might like it. It's quite meaningful.'

`In what way?' Hermione closed her beloved Hogwarts: A History book.

`Oh, in many ways. Well I had better go, Professor Sprout wants me to help her with some potting of Screaming Daffodils.” Neville got up and waved goodbye from the portrait hole even when his robes got caught.

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Like all the other times, silence was the first occurrence between the two of them. It was comforting, the silence. The room was dark, as the fire had long burnt down to mere embers. In the dim light, they could hardly see the other's face and that was perhaps better.

`We won't ever be the same again, will we?'

Silence.

`No.'

`A three never works does it?'

`It can, just not the way you want it to.'

`Am I selfish for wanting?'

`You are. You want but lie and hurt the unsuspecting. You think you yearn for times gone by but really your heart covets for wholeness, a wholeness fulfilled by one, not two.'

“Two roads diverged in a yellow wood”

Silence reigns again.

`I love him you know.'

`There are many types of love: love of a brother, love of a friend, love of a lover…”

`Have you loved?' The voice is of an accusing tone.

`Why say “loved”?'

“And sorry I could not travel both…”

Silence is a mutual friend.

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Kisses with one's true love were described to be so sweet and so full. So why was it then that Hermione felt nothing? Certainly, she could not say that the sensation of being kissed was not unpleasant yet it was an emotionless kiss.

`Stop.' Hermione looks to the side and takes interest in a painting. The mother is singing her baby a lullaby.

Ron looks confused. `Did I bite you?'

Hermione says nothing and Ron continues to be perplexed.

`If you are a lone traveler and find two roads: one road less tread on and the other more worn, which would you take?' Hermione suddenly asks.

“And be one traveler, long I stood”

Ron frowns at Hermione's strange behavior but decides to comply and answer. `I would take the one which is more worn, wouldn't that mean that more people walked there?'

Hermione closes her eyes and whispers, `But I would have taken the one less treaded on.'

“And looked down one as far as I could”

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`Where do you belong Ron?' Hermione walks slightly ahead.

`Here, with you.' Ron replies as if he expects nothing else.

`But I do not belong here,' Hermione says softly, `I belong somewhere else.'

No words are spoken but a consensus is made. But then, a sudden realization.

`It's Harry, isn't it?'

A pause.

`Perhaps, but you and I are not for each other.'

`No, we aren't but why now, why ever?'

`Because once upon a time when everything was so new and love was but a fabled emotion and we were young and foolish..'

Another pause, a thoughtful pause.

`We'll always be friends.'

Hermione nods and smiles the first true smile in a long time.

`Where will you go? What path will you walk?' Hermione asks tentatively.

`I don't know but when I doubted, I couldn't help but look at someone else. Maybe she will walk with me.' Ron thinks of a person who likes to wear orange reddish earrings and smiles.

They start to talk like nothing passed between them but in the air is a sense of anticipation.

“Two roads diverged in a wood, and I--I took the one less traveled by”

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`If you are a lone traveler and find two roads: one road less tread on and the other more worn, which would you take?' Hermione holds her breath. The math swirls around dizzyingly. One plus one plus one equals three, two plus one equals three…

`The less traveled on.'

“Two roads diverged in a wood, and I--I took the one less traveled by”

`Let's walk together in to the unknown.'

`Always.'

“And that has made all the difference.”

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A/N: Well it ended. I hope you enjoyed it as much as I did. It was actually fun to write this as I haven't actually written in this style before. I have to thank my math teacher for all the inspiration especially with The Road Not Taken poem.

So thankyou for all the feedback that I've had. It was very helpful and I hope I can still hear some thoughts on this closing chapter even though it may have seemed hurried.

Thankyou!

The Road Not Taken by Robert Frost

Two roads diverged in a yellow wood

And sorry I could not travel both

And be one traveler, long I stood

And looked down one as far as I could


To where it bent in the undergrowth;

Then took the other, as just as fair,

And having perhaps the better claim,

Because it was grassy and wanted wear;

Though as for that the passing there

Had worn them really about the same,

And both that morning equally lay

In leaves no step had trodden black.

Oh, I kept the first for another day!

Yet knowing how way leads on to way,

I doubted if I should ever come back.

I shall be telling this with a sigh

Somewhere ages and ages hence:

Two roads diverged in a wood, and I--I took the one less traveled by,

And that has made all the difference.

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