DISCLAIMER: I don't own Harry Potter, J.K. does, and she has every right to do whatever she thinks is best for Harry Potter. I just love writing. So sue me. Wait, seriously… don't.
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Before Ron could come across a way to save Hermione, a hazy figure unexpectedly shot past him and rocketed straight in her direction.
It took him a few breath-stopping moments to realize what was happening, but before he could fully react, another figure whizzed after the first one, also heading for the plummeting figure of his best friend.
Ron narrowed his eyes as he looked up at the sky to see more clearly who these two indistinct figures were. And from a distance, he could make out the one who was far ahead from the other and sagged with relief as he became familiar with Harry, recognizing him with his raven black hair.
But when realization dawned on him, Ron instantly ogled at the boy who was falling behind, but being where he was, Ron couldn't insinuate whom the other one was. But as the sunshine flashed in their direction, illuminating what was happening above the ground, his jaw dropped in amazement as a sleek blonde-haired person came into view.
"Malfoy?"
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Hermione's eyes didn't open even as she became conscious for the first time in the two hours she was asleep.
"Where am I?" was the first thing she asked.
A screeching sound came and then someone answered. "You're in the Hospital Wing." The tone used was imprecise and low that Hermione found it hard to recognize the person talking.
"Why?" She grunted through the pain that throbbed in her head as she sat up.
"Don't you remember?" Another voice spoke, though it was clearer, she still didn't know to whom it belonged. "You fell."
She fell?
She fell from where?
Hermione asked herself as she rubbed her aching forehead persistently. And then memories came flooding back to her in a speed of a bullet. It was so fast that Hermione had to keep herself from gagging as nausea hit her.
She swallowed hard. Then tears burned her eyes. "Oh God." She muttered clutching the sheets to herself and covering her face. "Ron, thank you." Hermione's muffled voice could be heard through the rumple of sheets. "You don't know how glad I am to know you're here."
`Ron?' Harry frowned in offense as he felt his insides relent. How could she say that when he was the one who saved her? Didn't it ever cross her mind that he also cared about her safety?
But as he continued to look at her with the same amount of intensity, two things overwhelmed him: pity and guilt. As he saw Hermione sobbing into the nest of sheets that he placed on her while she was resting, Harry realized how simple the explanation was and he nearly hit himself for thinking otherwise. It was only likely for her to think that Ron rescued her since he, Harry, was the last person whom she expected to be there to save her life.
He paused in thinking to watch her for a moment and was surprised when a sudden shiver went through him, making him feel for a brief second Hermione's trembles, as if they were his own, and he fought the urge to wrap his arms around her.
But even as he continued to resist against that temptation, he knew he was about to lose the battle. Seeing her like this, all weak and helpless, was too disconcerting to ignore, even for someone who has experienced a lot of pain for so many years.
`Damn it!' He thought as he finally gave up the struggle. He stood up, ignoring the presence of a slightly unsolicited companion, sat just in front of Hermione and leaned over to wrap his arms around her quivering shoulders.
Fearing that she would find out his identity sooner than necessary, Harry lifted her chin and rested it on his shoulders so that when Hermione opened her eyes, she wouldn't be able to see his face.
Her rubbed her back soothingly, relishing and reveling the feeling, as he thought when again could he experience this closeness with her because, though everything in him were blaring in protest, he couldn't escape the fact that as soon as she finds out that he was Harry, she would be like she was yesterday.
Kissing the top of her head, Harry shoved away all these thoughts. As important as they may seem, they don't bear contemplating. For now, all he wanted to do was hold her, calm her silently and give her the comfort he once forgot to offer.
Hermione felt her shock ebbing away and she began to relax. Somehow, `Ron's' embrace seemed to have calmed her and his hands on her back added to his warm gesture.
She was surprised on how fast she had relaxed beneath his hold, though.
It was usually Harry who had that quick effect on her, not him.
A soft breeze entered through the open window of the hospital wing, playing with her hair and then brushing her cheeks lightly, all the while furthering her repose, and she sighed peacefully as she wondered when was the last time she had felt this calm and at ease.
Hermione slowly opened her eyes to let the tears that had formed beneath her lids fall, but before she could close them again, she saw someone sitting beside her bed, someone who wasn't welcomed anywhere near her and she stiffened. As time stood still, all she could think about was why on earth was he there?
Hermione held Ron's shoulders firmly and pressed him away from her so that he could explain why Malfoy was a couple of feet away, but her eyes widened in shock, and then her jaw dropped, forming a slight `o', as she recognized the person staring back at her.
"Harry…" She muttered numbly and lost feeling or track of things.
Now there's no doubt why she had felt composed immediately. Her intuitive being knew it was Harry who was holding her though her consciousness didn't know it.
"Do you feel anything?" he asked her. The concern and worry in his voice brought her back to her senses and though it seemed genuine and forthright, Hermione found it too good to be true. She refrained from answering his question as well as avoided his gaze.
"Do you feel pain somewhere?" He asked again.
There was no sign of impatience in his voice, only pure worry that even though was now twice as strong, she still didn't want to trust it, fearing that if she did, she will end up falling once more into the pit of glum.
"Would you like me to call for Madame Pomfrey?" Harry tried once more to get something out of her. But he received no reply; he reddened in shame and finally kept quiet.
Embarrassed, but hurt at the same time, Harry couldn't help getting angry with Hermione. All he was being was a good friend, but why was she acting as if he didn't exist at all?
The next thing he knew that made him want to lose his temper again in anger and frustration, Hermione had released her hold from his shoulders and was facing the other way, towards Malfoy. And even though she was turned the other direction sideways, Harry could see the expressions that were held in her eyes.
They were full of inquiry and hesitance; Harry understood its cause. She wanted to know why Malfoy was there, but she didn't want to talk to either of them, as they were both her enemies, and talking to one would mean lowering her pride, which was something she didn't want to come across at the moment.
He sighed, admitting defeat, and moved off the bed to sit back on his chair.
"He also tried to rescue you, Hermione. Believe it or not, Malfoy wanted to save your life." He supplied helpfully with a hoarse voice, not bothering to hide his irritation for her.
But even as he said this, his gaze had probed Malfoy's face, as he was more concerned on his expression rather than of Hermione's, expecting to see arrogance and gloating. But it came as a shock when he saw Malfoy staring at her with a grave look. Though it was baffling and sudden, Harry couldn't fail to notice that it seemed real.
Then, Harry smiled furtively as he saw Hermione's face. Her reaction had been predictable. Disbelief and surprise was written all over her as she continued to look at Malfoy with those vivid brown eyes of hers, searching for what she could make out of Harry's explanation and refusing to believe that what he told her was real.
But then, Harry decided, her reaction was nothing compared to the one he had earlier that morning in the Quidditch Field.
He slouched back on his chair and rubbed his chin with his index and thumb, switching gaze once more. Harry didn't know why Malfoy had gone after him when they saw Hermione fall. But he was glad he did, because he wouldn't have gotten to her on time without the thought of Malfoy being there instead to save her if he couldn't.
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Just a little while back, Malfoy had gone to the Quidditch Field, also thinking that no one would be there, his hopes up that he would be able to think, and was equally surprised, as Harry was, when they saw each other.
There was a moment of stillness between the two wherein neither one moved or talked, just stared at each other while hovering into the air. By the time they had been looking at each other for 5 full minutes, Harry had started to get annoyed since he had gone there to reflect on his thoughts, not to stare at Malfoy all day.
He was about to snap at him when to his surprise, Malfoy had began to talk and the first words that came from his mouth were the last words Harry expected to hear from someone like him.
"I'm sorry…"
Harry looked up at Malfoy's face abruptly, searching for hypocrisy and deceit with incredulity written all over his face as he heard what he said. A nerve-wrecking moment passed wherein memories flooded his mind, making him remember what all he and his friends had been through just because of Malfoy's taunting and malice, before his expression changed into fury and contempt.
"Sorry?" He spat. "Is that all you can say after everything you've done to us? I'm not ruthless, Malfoy, but your sorry won't change the way things are between us."
"I know it won't, Potter." Malfoy retorted angrily, meeting his fiery gaze with his own blaring ones. Harry could tell this conversation was very hard for him and he had to give Malfoy credit for trying and stepping on his own pride by doing so. "I'm just trying to make things right, that's all. I don't expect you to forgive me. Hell, I would have been surprised if you had. And I'm not stupid like you think I am; I know I did lots of things and I'm not ashamed to admit that now. All I'm trying to do is apologize. At least I won't feel guilt every time I think of you and your…friends."
"Guilt?" Harry asked, laughing bitterly. "Do you even have a conscience, Malfoy?"
"Yes, I do, Potter. Just because I've spent half of my life insulting you, it doesn't mean I'm not human and I don't feel anything." Malfoy said sheepishly.
"What if I don't accept your apology and say I rather wish you'd rot in hell?" Harry challenged.
"Then, by all means, do it." Malfoy raised his eyebrows and grumbled. "But don't go telling me sooner or later that I never said sorry because I'll throw this day at your face."
"For a guilty person who's apologizing, you don't look like you're sorry at all." Harry sniggered. "And why the sudden change? Did dear Lucius tell you to do this? No, wait. Mr. Malfoy wouldn't do such a thing, would he? He'd rather see you dead than come anywhere near me for good reasons." Harry mocked with the corners of his mouth lifting into a mocking smile.
Malfoy's eyes narrowed heatedly, his fists gripping his broom handle tensely as he was tempted to hit Harry. But then, given that it wouldn't result to a fruitful effort on his attempts to make things right, Draco took a deep breath and forced himself to cool down.
"Can't I just change my mind on my own? I also have the right to say things like that, and unless you show me a written contract that only those like you can apologize, I'll keep on saying sorry to anyone I want to." Malfoy maneuvered his broomstick the other way. "You know what? I don't have time for this. I've said all I wanted to say and if it's not good enough, I don't know what is. And if you won't tell me, there's nothing I can do. Have a good life, Potter."
And that was when it happened. Before Harry could think of something to say to Malfoy, a piercing scream from the other end of the Quidditch field startled both of them and he quickly turned his broomstick to where the sound came from and his body all froze up when he saw the unmistakable figure of Hermione falling.
Harry didn't waste time to think. He leaned forward, flattening himself on his Firebolt, and, unlike the night before wherein he waited foolishly and thoughtlessly for who knows what just because of his cowardice, he became intent on and only on getting there in time to save her.
As he was flying, he saw out of the corner of his eyes, Malfoy flying hastily as he was in the direction of his best friend and he knew the reason he was doing it: Malfoy wanted to prove that he was really serious in regretting all he did by coming to Hermione's rescue, provided that if he were the old Malfoy, he would have just left her to Harry.
Thinking that he would spoil this chance for him to talk to his best friend, Harry urged his broom faster and soon he was going through the air in the speed of a bullet, passing by Ron who was gaping at Hermione. He didn't stop to think why he was just standing there; it was irrelevant at the moment for he was concentrated with something more crucial and significant: getting to his best friend.
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"He did, did he?" Hermione's voice ransacked Harry's brain, thawing the wall that had been created in his mind as he reminisced on what happened earlier that afternoon.
Oddly enough, no one bothered to answer her. The long lines of questions in the minds of the other two occupants in the room making them busy to respond.
She continued to wait, clearly showing she was starting to get impatient, for them to elaborate more on the last statement Harry had asserted. But when it looked like no one wanted to take things further, she was the one who broke the ice. "Where's Ron?"
It was an irrelevant query but she didn't have anything more interesting to talk about so she let it go at that.
"Outside." Malfoy supplied in an unexpectedly mellow voice, surprising Harry and her. "Would you like me to call for him?"
By the look on her face, Hermione appeared unlikely to say anything, but it came as a surprise when she accepted the offer. "Yes."
Malfoy nodded sternly, stood up, and crossed the room towards the massive doors. But before he could get out, a muffled sound came from Hermione causing him to double back.
"Pardon me?" He asked, turning to look back at her.
"Thank you." Hermione muttered, looking down as she fidgeted with the sheets.
"For what?"
"Trying to save me."
"It was nothing. Ha-…Potter saved your life, not me." Malfoy looked uncomfortable and was staring at the floor as he shifted on one foot to the other.
"At least you tried." Hermione answered in a nonchalant tone, clearly stating the fact that she'd rather not talk anymore.
Malfoy, having the keen sense to take this as a sign that he should take off, soon left but not before he had smiled and said, "You're welcome."
When Draco had altered shut the gigantic timber doors of the Hospital Wing behind him, two things swiftly filled the atmosphere around Harry and Hermione silence and tension.
At some stage in the center of the stoned immobility about them, Harry's eyes strayed over to look at Hermione, hoping that just by staring at her, some force in the universe would communicate with him and inform him on what to say to get started with a conversation that would end up with, what he was hoping, an understanding and peace.
But the more Harry concentrated himself on looking, the more Hermione seemed intent on NOT meeting his gaze. And by the time their game of cat and mouse had gone far too long, Harry's lips were already set into a thin, grim line; the recent even only an addition to the dour result of the fact that not once during the time after she had thanked Malfoy did she even bother to acknowledge his presence and show the slightest bit of appreciation to him for jeopardizing his life for her sake.
But his already foul mood only increased to a great extent when Ron came bursting into the room like a cannon a few minutes later, looking frantic and relieved at the same time when his gaze fell on Hermione.
A pang of jealousy tightened in his gut as he saw Ron cover her hands with his own and kept that contact longer than what was comfortable for Harry.
And at that point when it felt that his envy would erupt inside him, a thought crossed his mind that he had to bite himself just for him not to yell in irritation. He didn't know which distressed him further the way Hermione tried to move away from him a while ago or the way she let Ron get near her, much more hold her hands.
"Are you ok?" He heard Ron ask with the same amount of concern he, himself, had shown.
Hermione waited for him to sit himself down before answering in a small voice. "I'm fine. Just a headache."
Right there and then, Harry wanted to shout. He wanted to yell and inform them that he was still there and he was not feeling well at all because of what he had just seen.
But he realized that if he did that, he would just end up looking guilty; guilty of being jealous of Ron's sudden privilege and with that simple but complicated word, a whole string of questions would be brought to life and Harry wasn't sure if he were ready to face them.
But still, he just couldn't shove away what was happening between them. Harry wanted to make the knowledge of Hermione being in love with him an excuse for the treatment he was receiving, but even imprudent people would think she was acting too much!
Then his contemplating stopped when he saw her motion for Ron to lean over and when he did, she whispered something to him.
It was a few seconds later when Ron moved away abruptly from Hermione, looking taken aback for a moment but then he nodded and with a grim expression on his face, he moved away from her and walked around the table to where Harry sat.
Ron pulled him up and walked away from the bed to a private corner in the Hospital Wing to talk to Harry alone and judging by the look on his face whatever it was he wanted to discuss with him wasn't encouraging in the slightest bit.
"It doesn't look good on you, mate." Ron muttered with a severe look.
"What do you mean?" Harry asked, puzzled, stealing a glance on Hermione, who had pulled her knees up and was resting her head on them.
"She wants you to-…please don't be mad about this, Harry…she wants you to leave."
"Leave?" Harry bellowed. "What do you mean `leave'?"
"She said she doesn't want to see you right now. I know this is very selfish of her but think of what she's been through, Harry. I know you'd also do it if you were in her position and don't even bother telling me you won't because I haven't been your friend for 7 years for nothing. What's best right now is for us to let her cool down a bit and try not to pressure her about the matter at hand."
"I don't believe this." Harry hissed fumingly as he began pacing back and forth. "I don't friggin' believe this! What the hell is wrong with her? Why is she being this…sensitive? I didn't do anything wrong. She was the one who committed the mistake! It wasn't my fault that she didn't tell me about her feelings."
"Harry, Harry, calm down." Ron raked a hand through his hair. "You don't want her to see you like this, trust me. And it's no use blaming Hermione. She's a girl, for crying out loud! Girls can't always do the things that boys can. That's why we propose; remember? They are too emotional and timid to undergo such things."
"Yeah, well, Hermione isn't just any normal girl, she's…different." Harry wanted to say `special' but thought better of it because saying that would mean something else that might get Ron suspicious.
"I know. But, hey, if it makes you feel better, she really appreciates you saving her life." Ron stated.
Harry suddenly stopped pacing and his expression brightened. "She does?"
Ron couldn't help but grin at the look on Harry's face and nodded. "She told me to thank you for that. But do me a favor; just get out of here for now. Believe me. If you do what she asks, you might actually look like you care for her."
"But I do!" Harry countered, splaying his hands in front of Ron.
"Yes, but to her, you don't. So just leave her alone to think for a while, ok?"
Harry swallowed, not trusting himself to speak just yet, and looked at Hermione's direction and was startled to see her withdraw his gaze from him as soon as she saw that he had turned to glance at her. There may be hope yet, he thought.
"Ok, I'll leave. But I'll come back later to check on her." Harry said in a defeated voice and crossed the room to get his Firebolt that was perched just beside Hermione's bed.
He concentrated his gaze on his broomstick and dared not look at the bed's occupant for if he did, he was afraid he wouldn't be able to take his eyes off her.
After he had straightened up into a decent position, he strode over to the door and stopped there for a moment, silently praying, wishing that Hermione would come to her senses and call him back, but nothing came and he shook his head in disappointment and laughed bitterly, thinking himself a fool for even believing she would do that.
With that thought intact, he stepped out of the Hospital Wing and headed back again to the Quidditch Field.
Hermione continued to stare at the space where Harry had been a moment ago; suddenly remembering what it was like to be held in Harry's arms in the period of one glorious minute.
She wanted to call him back and tell him everything was all right between the two of them again, but she knew in the depths of her heart, she wouldn't be happy with it.
Because even though he would have been there for her, his heart would still and will always belong to Cho. Just like the way she would always be finding herself crying at the end of the day, regretting every mistake she had done and killing herself for not correcting them when she had the chance.
`If only you knew, Harry, I wouldn't be doing this.' Hermione thought, shutting her eyes and holding back the tears that were threatening to fall once more. `Strange, you know…' She said again to herself. `How much I want you to.'
A few minutes later, Harry's eyes were blinded yet again by the bright shine of the morning sun as he stepped out into the Quidditch Field for another attempt on reflecting on his feelings.
He looked up and searched the skies, expecting someone in green robes to be flying about, but to his surprise and utmost relief, Malfoy was nowhere to be seen.
Harry figured minutes ago, when he had gone out and hadn't come across his rival, that Malfoy had gone out once more in the Quidditch Field and was frustrated by the idea that the git would steal again his privacy, not that he owned the place or anything. But as it turned out, he wasn't there and apparently, Harry couldn't be happier.
What happened just this morning added to the anxiety he was feeling in deciding who his choice was. The knowledge that Hermione had already risked her life twice just for her to be able to correct whatever it is she wanted to was driving him over to the edge of his concern and Harry couldn't help the fact that she would be gone before he could even make up his mind about it. This thought scared him more than anything else in his life.
Not to mention the fact that ever since the night before, Harry couldn't get her out of his system now that he knew what she felt for him. And although it was shameful to admit, he couldn't deny the fact that he started to have second thoughts about Cho, the person he had been pining for since his 4th year, and even if he didn't want to think that what he felt for her was only infatuation, he still couldn't ignore Hermione's feelings for him.
So with an agonized sigh, he got on his broom and shot towards the horizon in lightning speed, hoping that if he flew fast enough, he would leave all his troubles behind.
"I love you, Hermione…"
He looked up at the cloudy sky before him and added in a whisper…
"But I'm not sure just how much."
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