Disclaimer: I do not own any of the events that happened here, they were and still are all by JK Rowling.
Author's note: I hope you guys like this second part of the story. It feels odd after not writing for so long that I really hope my writing has not deproved!
This is for my dear sister, Tessa. Hugs! :D
It was official.
She, Hermione Jean Granger, was a terrible and awful coward.
After her little epiphany last night, she had tossed and turned constantly, thinking of how she was going to get out of this mess, how she had come to this stage. Everything seemed all so complicated and so... unsure. It had nearly even come to the stage where she hoped Ron would come back, hoping that the familiar sight of him might somehow change her mind, remind her why she had first fallen for him and hence banishing any other thoughts that she had ever thought of Harry as more than a friend last night.
And now, it was the next day.
She awoke early, (not that she'd had much sleep either, what with all her thoughts about how this would change her life completely) her nerves completely shot and her eyes all red and puffy, having been up crying the most of the night about why this could have happened to her and at the hopelessness of it all.
She had bustled around the kitchen, getting breakfast ready, as if hoping that the routine action would somehow jolt her back to normality, that somehow its familiarity would make her see-- see that last night, whatever she had thought about Harry was just an thought of her emotionally over fraught mind.
But just when she had laid breakfast down on the table and was just about getting ready to convince herself that she had somehow been so tired and frustrated that her affection of Harry was merely a hallucination, she heard him stir and the rustle of the bed sheets informed her that he was getting up and more out of habit than anything else, she turned around to look at him.
His hair was sticking out in various angles, his bleary emerald eyes dulled with the lack of sleep. Although it was considerably cold out here, he was wearing a simple white shirt and pajama bottoms, which were also rather wrinkled from his sleep. Just looking at him, made her heart skip a few beats; even in his rather bed-rumpled appearance, he looked---good.
The thought of Harry looking good even when he had just woken up made a sudden flush of heat rise to her cheeks and horrified at herself, she whirled away, avoiding his emerald eyes which she could feel looking at her back, trying to arrange the meager cutlery on the table so as to make herself look busy. It was only until she heard the flipping of the tent flap and the sound of his footsteps going out of the tent to wash up no doubt, did she look around and breath a small sigh of relief.
She knew almost immediately at that moment that she could not, was unable to convince herself that whatever new found feelings she felt for Harry was not a hallucination and would never be.
And now here she was, eating breakfast with Harry, in complete and utter silence so thick it felt like the porridge that she'd cooked on the first night they were camping. She avoided meeting his eyes-- afraid that somehow the sight of him would make it harder for her to keep these new feelings to herself, but throughout the entire meal, she could feel his gaze burning into her, and she felt as though he were trying to communicate with her through his looks. I'm sorry. I didn't mean for this to happen, I didn't mean for Ron to leave.
How she wished too that Ron were here. She felt a pang of guilt as she thought of the redhead. The guilt at breaking his heart and causing him to lose whatever was left of his pride was still there, but a new guilt had resurfaced-- a guilt that she had somehow fallen for his best friend (she could only imagine Ron's anger and hurt if he found out about her feelings for Harry) and that the only reason she wanted him back was so as to help her recover her previous feelings for him, that he could somehow restore the normality of her life, that she wouldn't be forced to grapple with these new feelings on her own.
She continued to steadfastly avoid his gaze throughout the most of breakfast, and was preoccupied with her own thoughts that she barely noticed what she was eating, barely noticed what she was doing.
It was only when Harry stood up from the table, his chair leg making a long, harsh scraping noise on the floor, that another thought came to her, so quickly and so abruptly that she let out a short gasp, inaudible to everyone except her.
What about Ginny?
She thought about the young girl, who was something like a younger sister to her. Ginny had seen Hermione as some sort of confidant since 2nd year, and Hermione was more than grateful to help her, she had even advised Ginny to act normal around Harry, who might then notice her, rather than acting like one of Harry's numerous fan girls who did nothing but gape at him and whisper together excitedly when they saw him walking past.
And when Harry had kissed Ginny in 6th year, she had been thrilled for the younger girl, whom she knew had fulfilled her long time fantasy and thrilled for her best friend as well, because she knew that Ginny would be wonderful for him as well. But now, now that she had fallen in love with Harry, how would Ginny take it?
She knew Harry and Ginny still liked each other, that they had only broken up because of Harry's need to distance himself from anyone who was close to him so as to protect them and she was more than clear that Harry thought of Ginny even on this hunt for the Hoxcruxes, from the way he sometimes pulled out the Marauders Map to gaze at it, searching for one particular dot with the name 'Ginny Weasley'.
She let her spoon drop into the bowl again and stood from the table, her mind still in a whirl. Merlin, how could she do this? How could she bear to break the heart of yet another Weasley, especially one who was like a younger sister to her?
Merlin, how she wished Ron had never left, that this stupid fight had never taken place, that she didn't need to be the only one struggling with this on her own.
She did the dishes in silence and lugged out a couple of shirts and jeans that needed to be washed by the riverside. Settling herself on a rock nearby, she began to soak the clothes, her heart giving a painful little twist whenever she came across a jersey of Ron's, a pair of his old jeans, and scrubbed the clothes with a force so vigorous, she began to splash her own clothes as well.
Why? Why had everything become so complicated? She couldn't like Harry, he was with Ginny and she was with Ron. If she went together with Harry, the Weasleys would hate her, Ginny and Mrs. Weasley the most ardently (all of sudden the thought of Mrs. Weasley's unpleasant face when she had read in the Witch Weekly that Harry and Hermione were dating, in fourth year, rose in her mind and she could not help but sigh) and she would lose everything she had with Ron.
But what if Harry didn't like her in the first place?
He had always been her best friend, guaranteed, from how he had in first year, even though she was such a bossy know-it-all (she still was one now) he had come after her to protect her from the troll, although he didn't even know how. But she knew all too well, he still loved Ginny, that he wouldn't love her, not while he loved Ginny.
She couldn't prevent a small scowl from tugging at the corner of her lips as a mental picture of Ginny resurfaced in her mind, of her long dark auburn hair that everybody always said was so much like Harry's mother's, that was always straight and shiny, unlike her own which was so bushy sometimes it was all she could do to prevent herself from severing it all off. She thought of Ginny's pale and smooth complexion and her bright sparkling blue eyes and thought with a hint of envy, if she had Ginny's looks, she probably would have been able to get someone like Harry too.
As soon as the thought passed through her mind, she frowned at herself in consternation and shook her head furiously. Why was she even thinking about this? It didn't matter how she looked, Harry would never fall for her.
And somehow, that thought made her heart fall slightly, her shoulders droop.
She continued to scrub at the clothes furiously, looking up every now and then, hoping that somehow every crack, every noise she heard coming from the woods would be Ron, coming back to them, that he would pop out of the woods with a big smile on his face, that the sight of him would somehow restore her feelings for him once again and take away those feelings she suddenly had for Harry.
She continued to harbor that hope, dawdling alongside the river unlike what she would have usually done but with every minute that ticked by, she realized that with a sinking heart, he would not be coming back, and that they had to move.
But she resolved, in her heart of hearts that this had gone on too long. She would not fall for Harry any deeper than she already had. She would stop this nonsense from proceeding any further because if she were really to get together with Harry, she would break the hearts of so many that were ear to her and she didn't want that to happen, not now. She didn't want to lose Ron or Ginny, or even the Weasleys who had almost been like an extended family of hers.
She would give him up. It was as simple as that.
~~~***~~~~
How wrong she had been to underestimate her feelings for Harry.
Merlin, she had just thought--- just thought for a moment--- that her feelings for Harry were only somewhat shallow, something that she could get over in a heartbeat. How utterly, completely wrong she was. They went even deeper than she could have possibly imagined, so deeply rooted in her being until she didn't even know they had been there until she'd tried to weed it out.
It had been alright, bearable even, when the both of them, as if by some unspoken accord had begun to clear up the campsite and take down all their protective enchantments still in utter silence. But when the both of them stood atop a small crest that had been overlooking their earlier campsite and Harry had taken her hand to Disparate, she had just lost whatever that was left of her self-resolve.
She knew that it was a platonic action, something she also did with both of them frequently, holding both their hands sometimes without any conscious reason. But this time, it felt so different. When his fingers had interlaced with hers, she nearly jumped, she could almost feel her nerves spark to life inside her. His fingers felt strong, they felt safe and reassuring as they held her hand in a clasp, as if telling her without words that everything would be alright.
And as she had spun around in a pirouette action numbly almost, one thought had flashed through her mind in that split second that they were Appparating.
I don't want to let you go.
It was then that she really knew, she knew that no matter how hard she tried, no matter how much she wanted to, she would never be able to forget her feelings for Harry, treat them as something non-existent.
And it was at that moment when they appeared atop the heather covered hill that she had just lost it.
She let go off his hand immediately and walked a few steps on unsteady legs before sinking down onto a large rock and started to sob. Merlin, she was so scared. Scared of what this would mean, what this would bring somehow. She had never lost control over anything in her life. Only now, she had just lost control of her emotions, she wouldn't be able to forget Harry and there was absolutely nothing she could do to prevent herself from falling from him even more.
She was so afraid; she had never felt so vulnerable in all her life. Merlin help me, she found herself pleading silently, I can't do this.
Sobs racked her body as they seemed to tear themselves from her throat and she could feel him looking at her, watching her and she silently willed him not to come over, not to touch her shoulder and ask her what was wrong because she knew, she just knew that she would fall apart completely.
She let herself cry as she heard him in the background, muttering the enchantments that would protect them tonight when they set up camp. She sobbed, for Ron leaving, for her spiraling into such a situation where she no longer had control over her own heart.
What was she going to do?
Oh dear, I just did it again didn't I? I have a feeling I made this into more than a one shot or a two shot. Help. Anyone?
Reviews are as always welcomed with a hug. :D