A/N - hello everyone - yes, I'm back. It's been a long while but lets just say that real life has been a bit of a challenge lately so writing has been the last thing I've wanted to do. But there have been a few stories hanging around and here is one of them. It's written so the updates will be regular but it is an experiment as it is written in the first person so please, be gentle. Each chapter is split into two - the first half is Hermione's point of view while the second is Harry's. And in this story Hermione isn't as strong as perhaps she actually is but I thought of the idea while listening to 'Good Enough' by Evanesence so…
Anyway, I hope you enjoy it.
Chapter 1 - Rain
Hermione
Whoever it was that came up with the 'Victory Ball' idea should be shot, quite frankly. I mean, hadn't we done enough? Wasn't getting rid of Voldemort worthy of a lifetime of peace and quiet? Evidently not.
Walking out of the Weasley's bathroom with my mind stuck on supposedly the most important decision of my life - whether to wear the blue or the purple set of robes that had been picked out for me - I didn't really notice she was there until I heard her laugh, a perfect, tinkling laugh.
I stopped in my tracks and looked down on them from the stairs - Ron with Luna basically sitting on top of him while Ginny sat at Harry's feet, giggling at something he must have said.
Perfect.
Leaning against the wall in what I hoped were shadows, making me invisible to them if they chanced to look up, I fought against the tears that threatened to leak from my eyes.
It wasn't fair.
I have been his best friend for over seven years now, stood by his side through thick and thin, sacrificed practically everything for him yet somehow I'm still not good enough. What else could I do?
Nothing.
It was then the part of me that has kept me going for these last few years, the part that recognised that I was madly in love with him and no other boy - man - would ever come close to him in my heart, took over. That part told me to harden up and get over it, that if I want to retain his friendship then I'd have to get used to him being with her.
Closing my eyes, I try to ready myself for the upcoming exchange…but I know I can't do it. Not today anyway. Taking a deep breath, I creep back upstairs to the room I usually share with Ginny and grab an old raincoat of hers hanging in the wardrobe. Making doubly sure there was no way I was going to cry, I headed back downstairs.
"Hey Hermione," Harry calls to me - of course he's the first to notice my arrival, "are you okay?"
"Yes, yes," I say, not really pausing as I walk pass, putting on the coat, "I just need a bit of fresh air…"
"Are you mental?" Ron asks me in his usual caring manner, "it's bucketing down out there!"
"Honestly Ron," I retort in what I know is my 'why are you so stupid' voice, "I'm a witch who knows water repelling charms. I'll be fine."
"We were going to go over our plans for next Saturday…" Harry adds. He looks up at me and I can see the concern in his eyes, making me start to falter. But then Ginny puts her hand on his knee in a gesture so natural that it breaks my heart in two. My resolve returns.
"Oh, I think you four have it covered," I say in what I hoped was a nonchalant way, "you don't need me."
And then I leave without letting them - him - say anything more. I put the hood up of the ugly, bright yellow raincoat and head out into the summer storm.
I let myself cry then, knowing I was safe because no one could tell my tears through the rain. You see, it isn't Ron who's breaking my heart - it's Harry. It's always been Harry. Well, except for that small time in our sixth year when I tried to forget about Harry by concentrating on Ron (which just ended in a huge mess) but eventually I went back to wanting Harry.
However it's not going to happen. I'm not good enough for him and never will be. I will never be able to compete with the Ginny Weasley's of the world; the perfect girls who can talk to boys without blabbering on about what they've read in some book some where. Perfect girls whose hair isn't like a creature with a mind of its own. Perfect girls who can pretend Quidditch is the most fascinating thing on this earth. Perfect girls who are nothing like me.
I hang my head down and let a sob escape from the depths of my heart, little rivulets of water running over the collar of my coat and down my neck. The debate of whether I should change to make myself more attractive to Harry has been made in my head many times over the years to the point where I remind myself how useless it would be. If he doesn't like me for who I was then I would just have to remain miserable and alone until I find someone who will.
I wasn't going to change even for blasted Harry Potter.
Why do I have to be so bloody moralistic? Stupid blimmin upbringing.
I start walking again, heading for the ward boundary, not really knowing where I would go but knowing I didn't want to stay here. My tears are running freely now, my nose joining in with the fun and as I sob once more, I ignore the fact that my hood has blown off and now my hair is plastered to my head.
At least it doesn't look like a bird nest now.
"Hermione?"
My head snapped around at the sound of my name and there he was, standing in the rain, protected by the spell I taught him a lifetime ago - the same spell I told Ron that I would use and haven't. Blasted, blimmin, bloody hell.
"Harry?" I choke out, my voice betraying the fact I have been crying, "what are you doing here?"
"Are you alright?" he asks me, his eyes boring into me, "I mean, are you…are you crying?"
"No," I lie and see that he knows that immediately - I turn from him so I can lie more convincingly, "no, I'm fine. It's just the rain…"
"You're soaked," he interrupts, stopping me walking by grabbing my arm, "Hermione, please, tell me what's wrong."
I bow my head and a stream of water runs down my back as I fight my urge just to blurt out the truth. As long as I don't look at him…
"Hermione…" he says again as he turns me around - I keep my eyes fixed on my soaked shoes, "this isn't like you. What is it? What's wrong?"
Don't look up, don't look up, don't look up.
But sometimes I'm not so smart and I ignore the mantra going through my brain. With the summer rain beating down on my face, I look into those green eyes I love so much and see him looking back at me with worry and concern.
"Be careful of what you ask of me Harry," I tell him sadly.
"Why? What are you hiding?"
He lets go of my arm and watches me and I just stare back. My head is screaming to me to tell him how I feel, that I need to tell him how I feel. So I do.
"Why aren't I good enough for you?" I whisper.
His eyes widen in shock so I turn from him and continue to the end of the wards, stepping past the tree that indicates I am now free to Apparate. I hear him call out my name and I turn back to face him and see that he is only steps away. He looks at me with his adorable, confused yet trying to understand face and I smile at him.
"I should never have let you…" I search for the words that portray what I feel, "capture me so completely," I finish, wincing when I see the hurt in his eyes, "but I did. It's just that I've dreamt, hoped, for so long that you'd see I was…"
"…good enough," he says and I nod. We look at each other for a bit longer before I realise that I can't look at him anymore. I give him another small smile, then leave.
Harry
Why does she do that? It wasn't that funny. And I really wish she wasn't sitting right at my feet, like she belonged to me or something. Ginny Weasley is definitely not mine and I don't particularly want her to be. Not any more anyway. Besides, I actually don't want a girlfriend sitting at my feet, looking up at me like I was some pop idol or something - I want a girlfriend who sits by my side.
Like Hermione was.
I wonder where she's got to? It doesn't normally take her this long to go to the loo.
I'm just about to suggest going up and checking she was alright when she comes down the stairs carrying a really foul looking coat.
"Hey Hermione," I call out and she looks at me slightly startled, "are you okay?"
"Yes, yes," she grins a grin that doesn't quite reach her eyes as she strides past, putting on the coat, "I just need a bit of fresh air…"
"Are you mental?" Ron asks in amazement and I tended to agree with him, "it's bucketing down out there!"
"Honestly Ron," she fires back at him in a tone we know so well, "I'm a witch who knows water repelling charms. I'll be fine."
But it's not fine, something was wrong - I could feel it. We met this afternoon to work out how to handle the stupid 'Victory Ball' next Saturday which included a stupid speech I had to give about the stupid war that ended a bit back. Well, okay, so the war wasn't stupid but everything else was and I really didn't think I could get through the whole stupid thing without her.
"We were going to go over our plans for next Saturday…" I remind her and she pauses as she looks at me as if she understood how much I needed her. Then Ginny puts her hand on my knee and I see a hardness cross Hermione's face for a second, a brief moment.
I'm confused - one: why the bloody hell does Ginny think she has the right to touch me in a way that she no longer has any right to touch me and two: why did Hermione look so hurt by it? Before I have a chance to think about it further, she continues to walk to the door.
"Oh, I think you four have it covered," she says in a forced, calm sort of way, "you don't need me."
And then she's gone.
"What the bloody hell do you think you're doing?" I growl at Ginny, swatting her hand off my leg, making her look at me, her annoyance boiling just under the surface, which she hides, and then asks me innocently
"What?"
"You and I are not together, Ginny," I spit at her as I stand.
"But that was only because of the war," she purrs, also standing and taking my hand, making me face her, "and now the war is over - thanks to you. It's only a matter of time before…"
"Before nothing," I interrupt harshly, "things aren't the same as before, they can never be the same as they were before…"
"Fine then," she flings back to me, the famous Weasley temper now in full swing, "play your little game of hard to get. But this isn't over Harry, not by a long shot!"
And with a flash of red hair, she's gone. Taking a deep breath, I calm down, frustrated at the mess I seemed to have got myself in. I barely hear Luna excuse herself and say she'll go and talk to Ginny, but I do hear Ron.
"Have you asked Hermione yet?" he says somewhat cautiously. I smile and shake my head 'no'.
I had confessed to Ron that my feelings for Hermione had changed while I was still recovering in St Mungo's (on one of the rear occasions she had actually left me to visit her parents) and he had accepted the news with an un-interested shrug. It seemed he had seen it coming for quite a while.
I, however, had only started to recognise that I was feeling more than platonic feelings for her throughout the search for the Horcruxes. Then she nearly died during Christmas last year and finally I knew that Hermione was the only girl that could ever mean anything to me.
Don't get me wrong, my time with Ginny had been great; she helped take away the mess that was my life. But so does Hermione in a way that is more real, more…complete. Though it took her nearly dying for me to work that out - sometimes I can be so stupid.
Not that I did anything about these new feelings, of course. I had this whole business of saving the world to worry about and the last thing I needed was Voldemort to know that I cared for someone very deeply. So I did the only thing I could and ignored how I felt until Voldemort was over.
However, Voldemort has been over for about a month now and Hermione still doesn't know I like her - there never seems to be a right time to say anything. There are always people about, and Ginny keeps interrupting us at the most annoying times. Also, it's a lot harder than I thought it would be, asking your best friend out on a date. I now see why it took Ron so long.
But that was all going to change today - I was going to ask Hermione to be my date to this stupid Ball thing. Yet now she's upset about something and is out walking in the pouring rain and I'm here staring at Ron like an idiot.
"Go and find her Harry," Ron tells me, breaking me out of my thoughts. With the realisation that she may already be gone, I nod in acknowledgement to Ron and dash for the door, pausing briefly to cast a water repealing charm taught to me a lifetime ago.
Hermione was easy to find, the bright yellow raincoat standing out even through the pouring rain. I watch as she stops for a moment and bows her head making her look so…alone. She starts to walk again and I run to catch up with her, frowning when the hood of her jacket is blown away and the mass of curls that frame her face so brilliantly fall flat from the rain.
I call out to her and she turns to me so sharply that I wonder if she's injured herself, her face full of surprise. As I get closer to her, I see that there is a sadness in her eyes, and a wetness that isn't from the rain.
"Harry?" she says and in that single word, I definitely know she's been crying, "what are you doing here?"
Searching her eyes for some clue, a reason why she's so upset I wonder for the first time whether it's because of me. But I'm a bloke and Hermione is a crying girl, so with the tack of a bludger I blurt out
"Are you alright? I mean, are you…are you crying?"
"No," she says quickly and I know it's a lie, frowning when she turns from me to finish her fib, "no, I'm fine. It's just the rain…"
She could never lie that well but I let this one go.
"You're soaked," I continue, stopping her by taking her arm so she has to look at me, "Hermione, please, tell me what's wrong."
But she doesn't look at me, she keeps a steady gaze at her shoes. Now I'm really concerned.
"Hermione, this isn't like you," I try again, "what is it? What's wrong?"
After a few moments, she finally looks at me and it takes all my strength not to reach out and hug her. She looked so wounded, in such pain, that all I want to do is take that pain away. I try and think why she's like this, what had happened to make her so…well, not the strong Hermione that I've come to care about so much.
"Be careful of what you ask of me Harry," she finally says and I'm confused. Why can't she tell me what the matter is?
"Why?" I ask as I let go of her arm, "what are you hiding?"
She pauses and stares at me and I could see the battle going on in her brain. I can feel my own concern grow the longer she stays silent. After what seemed a lifetime, the rain still pelting down unnoticed by either of us, she whispers
"Why aren't I good enough for you?"
What?
My mind screams a million questions as I try and understand what she means - not good enough for me? She thinks she's not good enough for me? Hermione? How can she ever think she's not good enough for me? I mean, she's perfect! Well, maybe not perfect but pretty bloody close. Bloody hell, if anyone is not good for anyone else, it's me who isn't good enough for her!
None of that matters, however, as Hermione turns and starts to walk away, leaving me watching her like a stunned mullet before I get it into my head she's leaving. Taking a few steps to catch up to her, I call out her name and as if slow motion, she turns to me and smiles sadly.
"I should never have let you…" she pauses briefly and now I can clearly see the tears amongst the rain. I wait for her to finish but part of me is scared of what she is going to say. After a few seconds she continues, "…capture me so completely. But I did. It's just that I've dreamt, hoped, for so long that you'd see I was…"
"…good enough," I end for her and she nods.
I look at her, wanting her to see that she is more than good enough for me then realising she obviously doesn't see that, that all the hints I thought I'd shown her haven't worked and she has no idea how much I care for her.
Say something, my brain screams at me, say something before it's too late!
So I open my mouth to tell her that she's perfect to me, that I wanted her to be my date for the Ball on Saturday, that if she wanted, perhaps we could be boyfriend and girlfriend. But before I could tell her anything…she's gone.