"I solemnly swear I am up to no good," whispered Harry as he tapped his wand upon the Marauder's Map lying open in his hand.
Had Harry taken any time to register the words he'd just spoken, he would have realized the sad irony in them.
Instead, Harry Potter, whose hurried footfalls echoed loudly in the dark, deserted halls of Hogwarts School of Witchcraft and Wizardry, focused intently on the map.
Two black dots next to two names appeared on the map, showing their location as being in the Gryffindor common room.
'Well, that explains it,' Harry hissed quietly, his hands trembling slightly as he held the Marauder's Map.
To Harry's relief, however, one of the dots, marked Ron Weasley, moved out of the common room and seemed to head in the direction of the kitchens. Harry let out a sly smile at this.
'So predictable, Ron. A late night snack I see.' His emerald eyes moved back to the dot marked Hermione Granger, now alone in the Gryffindor common room.
'Maybe now I can get some answers,' Harry said to himself, his face set in rigid determination as he folded up the map and quickened his pace down the dark hall.
The Fat Lady eyed Harry suspiciously (albeit sleepily) as he neared her portrait. Before she could open her mouth to reprimand the seventh year and remind him that even though he is `the boy who triumphed,' he still has to follow school rules, Harry fixed her with a penetrating glare that could have petrified a basilisk.
The Fat Lady, now taking a step back deeper into her portrait, instead whispered timidly, "Password?"
Harry took a deep breath and fixed his face so that the crease in his brow was smoothed out. In a tone he hoped was absent of any kind of ill temper, he answered, "Albus Dumbledore."
The portrait silently swung open so he could gain entrance into the Gryffindor Common Room.
Harry hurriedly straightened his robes about him, ran a shaking hand through his hair, and fixed a small smile on his face as he stepped through the portrait hole.
Hermione Granger was seated in her favorite over-stuffed armchair in the Gryffindor common room as a figure stealthily made its way through the portrait hole. A giant leather bound book with frail, yellowing pages lay open on her lap. From where he was standing, cloaked in shadow, Harry had a clear view of Hermione's profile. Her bushy brown hair concealed her face as her head was tilted downward to, Harry surmised, read the book lying in her lap. Despite looking over the Marauders' Map moments before to make sure she was alone, Harry's emerald eyes quickly surveyed the common room, paying particular attention to the dark corners and shadowed areas of the room where the orange glow of the fire did not reach.
Satisfied that they were the only two in the room, Harry's attention returned to Hermione.
Instead of hearing the blaring silence of intense concentration he was used to whenever Hermione was engulfed in a book, Harry heard a soft sniffle come from her direction.
'Is she crying?' Harry asked himself as his heart cringed at the unwelcome but all too familiar (especially recently) sound. Ever since the end of the war and the subsequent return to Hogwarts to finish their seventh year, Ron and Hermione had made their relationship official. With graduation and taking their first steps out into the adult world looming ever closer, one would think Hermione Granger would be eager to live a `Voldemort-free' life with Ron. But to the contrary, Harry found Hermione in similar states of sadness more and more often. Remarks like "Now that we are about to graduate, I suppose you won't be needing my help with your class work anymore," and "Now that we are all rid of Voldemort, I imagine you can't wait to get out and live your life for once Harry," (all said with a smile that never quite reached her eyes) made Harry wonder if something was wrong. And whoever thought that after Ron and Hermione got together that the petty arguing and fighting would stop……was sadly mistaken.
Another soft sort of sniffle coming from Hermione's direction brought Harry back to the present.
As he listened more intently, Harry's assumption proved to be correct as he could make out the sounds of Hermione softly crying. A glistening tear fell from her face to the yellow page of the open book on her lap, landing with a soft `pat.'
The hampered sounds of his best friend's sorrow made it harder for Harry to do what he had to. He second guessed himself, wondering if he should put his plan on hold for now and try to console his friend. Harry shook that thought from his mind and with grim determination stared forward at Hermione, fully intent on doing what he came here to do.
Taking a deep breath, he stepped deeper into the common room, allowing the soft orange glow from the fire to wash over him.
At the sound of his footfall, Hermione's frame shook slightly in surprise. Using her hands to wipe spilled tears from her face, she tried to compose herself the best she could.
Without looking up from her book, she said softly, with a twinge of annoyance in her voice, "I'll be right there, Ron." She then moved to close the giant book in her lap and place it to the side.
At the sound of this, Harry softly cleared his throat to get her attention, hoping the loud cracking sound emitted from his chest as his heart broke didn't rouse anyone upstairs from their slumber.
"Oh Harry, it's you," Hermione sniffled, finding some strength in her voice and flashing him a quick, slightly shaky smile. Harry pretended he didn't notice the lingering sadness in her voice as well as her puffy eyes and moved quickly to envelope her in a brief hug.
Though it lasted mere seconds, Harry felt himself drown into Hermione. Stepping away from her and suddenly feeling cold (although orange-yellow flames still flickered and danced in the fireplace), Harry sat down on the couch across from Hermione, willing his heart to resume beating.
He let out an exaggerated sigh.
"Waiting for Ron, were you? Sorry to disappoint," he said in mock hurtful tones, a sly smile on his face. His spirits lifted as he saw the shroud of sadness lift from Hermione's face as she smiled back at him.
"I guess you'll have to do then, wont you?" she replied, returning Harry's smirk with one of her own.
He couldn't help but admire her.
The past year, Harry had grown closer to Hermione than anyone else in his entire life. Their journey to seek out and destroy the Horcruxes had taken such a toll on the both of them. Yet Hermione, true to her word, stuck with Harry. Even when things seemed utterly hopeless at times, she stayed.
She was always there.
And now, with Voldemort gone forever, things can finally start getting back to 'normal.'
Whenever Harry thought about that, especially the word 'normal,' he couldn't help but frown a little as he tried to figure out just what 'getting back to normal' meant. Defeating Voldemort had been Harry's life, that was all he knew. After all, he was `the boy who lived,' and now 'the boy who triumphed.'
`So what now?'
All Harry knew was that whenever he thought of his future, the image of a certain bushy haired witch flooded his mind. That is why he had to let her know how he felt. To show her that she is making a mistake be….
"Harry?" her soft voice shook him from his trance. Harry's eyes focused on Hermione, still standing before him, her face full of concern.
"You alright?" came Hermione's voice again, moving to sit next to him on the couch. Turning toward Harry, she reached a hand up to brush against his forehead.
"Y-yeah, I'm fine," Harry managed to stumble out, his face blushing as the coolness from her hand put him in a place of pure tranquility.
"Well you don't feel 'fine,'" answered Hermione in her typical 'bossy' tone, her face fixed with a serious expression.
'She is always so worried about me,' Harry thought as he let out a quiet sigh. `Even though seconds before she was softly crying, alone, here she is, worried about me,' rang Harry's voice in his mind.
`She's been through so much, and even now, with the rest of her life before her, where endless possibilities await, she's alone.
She's sad.
She's crying.'
Harry blinked rapidly to dispel the tears swelling in his eyes as he came to that sudden realization.
'She deserves better.'
Harry lifted his glasses off his face and wiped at his eyes with the back of his sleeve. Hermione, white faced and looking as if Harry died right in front of her, made a move to ask her friend what was wrong when Harry interrupted.
"Actually, no, everything is not alright, Hermione," Harry confessed with a sad laugh.
He sniffled as he started to speak and again felt tears return to his eyes.
"This might sound completely absurd," he continued, his voice slightly trembling with sadness, "But I wanted you to know that-that I love the way you laugh."
At this, he laughed again, and sniffled loudly, looking down at his lap to avoid Hermione's gaze.
He felt the cushion on the couch shift and looked up as Hermione moved closer to him.
She reached out and grasped Harry's hands, holding on to them tightly. Looking up into her face, Harry saw that she, too, had tears in her eyes. Her brown eyes glistened as shadows danced across her face from the flickering fireplace.
She reached a hand to Harry's face and banished a stray tear.
"Harry, what's wrong? What happened?" asked Hermione earnestly, her voice breaking.
Harry moved to release Hermione's grip on his hands and stood up from the couch. Hermione's eyes followed his every move as Harry stood in front of the fireplace, his back to her.
"I can't keep doing this, Hermione. I just can't."
Wringing her hands together in her lap out of sheer nerves, Hermione, too, stood up and approached Harry. She laid a consoling hand on his shoulder and gently turned him to face her.
Her voice almost pleading, she asked, "Can't do what, Harry? What's happened?"
Harry's eyes lifted to stare into Hermione's. "You happened."
Before she could inquire further as to what he had meant by saying that, he turned and moved to the middle of the common room. The couch they were sitting on earlier now between them.
"I…I can't stop thinking about you," he managed, his voice finding courage. Ignoring Hermione's stunned look, Harry plowed forward. "You don't understand how much you mean to me, Hermione."
Hermione, with frazzled, bushy hair and her body outlined in an orange glow due to her standing in front of the fireplace, only looked at the ground, a solitary sparkling tear falling from her face.
Harry continued, "I know I haven't been the most open person in the world about my feelings, but I can't ignore it anymore."
At this, Hermione moved slowly and sat back on the couch in front of Harry, her back to him. Putting her head in her hands, she inquired softly, barely above a whisper, "You can't ignore what, Harry?"
She heard the soft swoosh of robes and suddenly felt two hands cupping her face. Looking up, she saw Harry kneeling in front of her, eyes shimmering, his face sad.
"The fact that I'm losing you."
"Losing me?" Hermione returned, lifting her hands to remove Harry's that still framed her face. The unshed tears in her eyes burned away. Harry, confused by Hermione's tone, stood up and took a step back toward the fireplace, eyeing her intently.
Nodding to herself as if she just made up her mind about something she quickly stood up, as she spoke, frustration and sadness was evident in her voice.
"Where have I been, Harry!?" She let the sharp tone in her voice attack him.
She angrily pointed at the ground by her feet. "I have been right here the whole time! For four years now I have been right here! Waiting for you!"
The stunned look on Harry's face disappeared only to be replaced by a mask of confusion.
"Waiting for me…" he started, but Hermione interrupted, continuing as if she hadn't heard Harry at all.
"And now that things can FINALLY go back to being normal, where I can FINALLY move on with MY life, you decide to do this NOW?!" Hermione's bitter tone made Harry's heart drop as he stared at the floor in front of him, avoiding the daggers she was staring at him.
Hermione balled up her small fists at her sides as Harry neared. She refused to look at him as he reached her, his hands grabbing her arms at the elbow.
Tears blurred her vision as she drew a shuddering breath. Harry's heart was in a million pieces as he looked down at Hermione. Removing his hand from Hermione's shivering arm, he lifted it to her face and tilted her chin up so she could face him. Spilled tears left a glistening trail down her cheek that ran down his hand as Hermione turned her head away from him.
"Harry, let go," Hermione choked out as she attempted to loosen herself from his grasp.
Harry, however, tightened his hold on her wrist as he pulled her back to face him.
"No, Hermione," Harry whispered to her and he pulled her into a tight embrace.
Hermione sobbed openly in his shoulder for several minutes as Harry held her in his arms. He had known Hermione to be extremely emotional from time to time, but never like this. After several moments of silence, and assuming that she was all cried out, Harry released his hold on her and held her at arms length.
Hermione, her face pink from crying and her brown eyes now red and puffy, sniffled as she took a deep breath. That breath caught in her throat, however, as Harry's voice carried three words to her.
"I love you."
That was the last thing Hermione remembered hearing before she felt Harry's lips on hers.
Harry couldn't help it. He had to do it.
He hadn't said those words to anyone ever before and meant them so sincerely that he felt his heart might burst. As he moved to kiss her for the first time, he wished for nothing more than to banish the sadness that so desperately clung to her.
To bring her back to life.
Bring her back to the Hermione he knew.
The Hermione he fell in love with.
Her first reaction was to try to pull away and she struggled slightly to break free. However, after a few moments, she was no longer able to fight the feelings that stayed dormant in her heart for so long. Hermione succumbed to his kiss and gave in, kissing him back.
After several moments where the only sound that could be heard in the common room was the crackling of the dying fire in the fireplace, Hermione broke the kiss.
"I…I can't do this," she confessed.
She looked up at Harry's face, noticing the love his emerald eyes held as he looked back at her.
"It's not fair to Ron. I'm with Ron now," Hermione finished, her voice shaking with a sort of frail resolution.
Her heart, which had been racing moments before during their kiss, slowed to a near stop as she noticed Harry's shoulders slump, his gaze returning to the floor at his feet.
"But-but I love you," he mumbled to the floor.
"Harry, listen to what you are saying!" choked Hermione from where she stood in front of Harry, obviously having overheard his quiet plea.
She swallowed hard, shook her head vehemently, and said, almost more to herself than anyone, "No."
She then fixed her puffy eyes up at Harry, tears now running down her face. "No. You don't mean that. Don't say that!" She let out a quiet sob as she turned to leave up the stairs and to the girls' dormitory.
Harry swiftly reached out to grab her arm, stopping her.
Immediately, she turned to Harry. "You don't love me, Harry! You just can't stand the fact that I love somebody else!" she barked, shaking as she fought to control her emotions.
"Love!?" Harry returned sharply, releasing his hold on her. His face now held a sort of sad, twisted smile. "Is that what you feel for him!?"
Hermione stood quietly at the foot of the stairs leading up to the Girls' Dorm, her eyes fixated on the person before her.
Harry too remained quiet for a moment, the twisted smile on his lips disappearing as his gaze turned to the window just over Hermione's left shoulder. Caught in the absolute blackness that blanketed the world outside, Harry felt a sense of emptiness inside of him. A gaping black hole where no emotion resided, no feeling for anyone or anything lay, swallowed the part of his chest where his heart should be, leaving him tired….and cold.
He was alone.
Alone in darkness.
He had lost too much over the years of his short life.
His parents.
Sirius.
Lupin.
Dumbledore.
For seven years he had fought. Sure, the war was won and the Wizarding World was saved, but Harry had lost too many battles.
Love is a sort of battlefield Harry supposed.
First, there was Cho Chang.
A loss.
Her grieving at the loss of Cedric Diggory had driven her to him. In the beginning their feelings might have been mutual but after the events that transpired during his fourth year, ultimately leading to the murder of poor Cedric, it was grief and maybe a little bit of pity that pulled Cho to Harry.
Then, in his sixth year, it was Ginny Weasley.
Lust and desire had thrown the pair together.
With the loss of Dumbledore, Harry felt quite certain that the end was very near for him. As convinced as he was of losing the final battle with Voldemort, he needed to experience some sort of happiness, some sort of feeling of what it was like to live a normal life.
Being fully aware of the crush Ginny had on him, the decision was easy.
Ginny was convenient.
He didn't need to put his heart and his feelings all on the line with her. The last thing he needed was rejection at that point in his life. Just having a friend there for him wasn't enough. If he could live but a few moments in blissful ignorance with her, then so be it.
"Harry?"
The sound of his name brought him out of his trance.
He felt nothing as Hermione said his name again. The usual flutter of his heart whenever she would say his name was absent. His heart didn't thump in his chest when she reached out and grabbed hold of his hand either.
It was gone.
The black hole within his chest grew and his eyes flashed a bright electric green. His skin didn't tingle at her touch, in fact, his body hadn't registered anything at all.
He was numb to her.
Her voiced reached his ears in a muffled tone, as if trying to eavesdrop on a conversation in another room by putting your ear up to the wall.
In the midst of all this, Harry had removed his glasses from his face and began to clean them, realizing his vision had become a bit blurred. He cast a quick glance up at Hermione to see if she was indeed still there (after all, his skin had become numb to her touch and his ears deaf to her pleas.).
He was surprised to find that she still stood before him, with her tear streaked face and eyes full of worry, mouthing what, Harry assumed was his name since he could no longer hear her. More surprisingly however was the fact the he could see her clear as day.
Suddenly it all came together.
Then, with what felt as a blast of cold air, her voice returned to him. "Harry? Harry, are you alright!?" rang her voice, clear as a bell and thick with emotion in his ears. He felt her touch as her hands framed his face, her red eyes looking pleadingly, frighteningly into his green ones for any sort of sign that he had heard her. And with his glasses held in his hand at his side, he was still able to see her clearly.
Almost as if looking at her for the first time.
He realized how blind he had been these past eight years. He finally saw the game she was playing. Hermione's urgent cries were silenced when Harry dropped his glasses onto the stone floor with a dull clatter.
"Harry your glasses." remarked Hermione as she instinctively bent down to pick them up. There was a sharp crunch as Harry stepped on his glasses, the frame breaking and lenses shattering beneath his foot. Hermione withdrew her hand just in time.
"I finally see what you're playing at Hermione." Harry spoke quickly, his voice unnaturally high and his body trembling at the sudden epiphany.
Hermione's eyes shot up to meet his and grew wide with horror at what she saw.
"Why him? Why Ron!?" Harry's eyes were wide, startlingly bright, and wild. "He left us Hermione!"
Hermione could only stand there, frozen.
"While we were out risking our lives to find and destroy Voldemort's horcruxes, he left us! He left you, Hermione!" Harry's voice had almost reached a hysterical pitch.
He saw Hermione glance up at the stairs leading to the girl's dorm, a scared look in her eyes.
It was as if Harry read her mind.
He smiled wide.
"Hoping someone will hear all the noise and come down to investigate, do you?" He laughed.
"If it hadn't been for the Muffliato spell I cast when I first entered the room, I'm sure our lovely little heart to heart would have been interrupted ages ago."
Hermione remained quiet and in absolute terror. Her chest heaving as her mind fumbled trying to make sense of what was going on.
"But if it will make you feel better." Harry continued, smiling mischievously at her as he extended his hand and snapped his fingers. "There, done."
Ignoring the question in Hermione's eyes, he strode purposefully to an armchair in the dark corner of the common room and sat down. Making himself more comfortable, he tilted his head up to the direction of the girl's dorm, "Now you can scream all you want."
Hermione licked her quivering, dry lips and shakily spoke her first words in what felt like an eternity. "But…how…"
The rest of her sentence was cut off by Harry's sudden movement. He sat forward in his chair, a smug look on his face. He calmly rolled up the sleeve on each arm. Having Hermione's full attention on him he raised both bare arms. Then he extended his arms towards her, his palms up. Hermione's quizzical stare was replaced by a look of sudden understanding.
Harry noticed this and smiled. He sat back. Running a hand through his hair he said, "Something is missing, isn't it?" his eyes sparkling with twisted delight. "It's wand-less magic, love." He continued, "I could use the old `stick', but this way is much more fun."
"Hermione? Hermione! You there?" a voice from the portrait hole at the entrance of the common room shook her out of her trance.
"Ron!" exclaimed Hermione as she quickly moved towards him, his voice becoming a tangible being as he stepped out of the darkness of the portrait hole into the common room.
Behind her, Harry's gaze silently followed Hermione as she reached Ron. A sudden look of quiet calm fell on his features as Ron kissed her softly and pulled her into a hug.
"You ok?" Ron whispered to her noticing that her body was trembling and that she looked as if she had been crying. Hermione nodded silently.
"I wanted to apologize about the row we had earlier," Ron's voice was soft and meaningful; "I shouldn't have stormed out the way I did."
Sudden movement behind Hermione caught her and Ron's attention as they both turned to look at Harry, who was now standing in the middle of the common room.
"Oi, Harry, didn't see you there mate!" called Ron to his friend, a smile on his face. "Hiding in the shadows were you?"
Harry raised a hand and ran it through his messy black hair as he smiled slyly at the couple in front of him.
"Go ahead, Hermione," came Harry's voice, calm and purposeful. "Tell Ron that you would rather be with me."
Hermione felt Ron go rigid beside her as she looked, unable to speak, at Harry.
"Oh, speechless now are you?"
He took a step toward them, his hands at his sides and a small smile still on his lips.
"Well, that is understandable, seeing how you were kissing me a moment ago."
Hermione felt Ron's hand tightly squeeze hers as she took a small step forward. She felt Ron's gaze at her back. His grip slackened in hers as she made no argument to dispute Harry's claim.
Before Hermione could say anything, however, Ron released her hand and stepped in front of her, his features livid, his fists clenched.
"What the bloody hell is going on, Harry!?"
Harry smiled at Ron.
"Keep it down mate." Harry warned in hushed tones, pointing his thumb over his shoulder to the far end of the common room. "Wouldn't want the whole lot of Gryffindor House to come down and see this, do you?"
Ron's eyes narrowed as he thought about that and knew that Harry was right.
This was between them.
"And to answer your question about what is going on," Harry continued, "it's exactly what you are afraid of."
His eyes moved back over to Hermione.
Harry chuckled as he took another step.
"He's always wanted everything I've ever had!" Harry spat, pointing an accusing finger at Ron. "And you were at the top of that list. You are just a trophy to him!" He moved within a few feet of Ron and Hermione.
"Now, tell me you don't love me."
Hermione tried to convince herself that Harry wasn't himself. That something dark had a hold of him. She even entertained the thought that though Voldemort was dead and gone, the fact that Harry still had the lightening bolt scar on his forehead left him susceptible to some sort of dark influence left over by Voldemort.
These theories, however, flew out of the window once she looked into Harry's eyes.
There was nothing wrong with him. He wasn't being controlled by any kind of sinister force or anything of the sort. She saw, with terrible clarity, that Harry was serious.
Deadly serious.
She snapped back to reality as she heard her name.
"Hermione," Harry's calm voice sing-songed, "tell Ron that you love…"
In one swift motion, Ron pulled his wand out from inside his robes and pointed it at Harry's chest.
"You stay away from her!" Ron threatened through clenched teeth.
As Hermione let out a frightened gasp, Harry took a small step back and lifted both his hands in mock surrender.
"Ron, stop it!" interceded Hermione, reaching for Ron's outstretched arm and forcing it down.
In a blur of movement, Harry pulled his own wand out and pointed it at Ron, a sardonic smile on his lips. His eyes were emerald slits as he glared at Ron.
"You don't deserve her!" he roared, the smile his face held moments before disappearing, his face now twisted in fury and hatred.
"Harry! No!" yelled Hermione as she made a move toward Harry, stopping in her tracks when Harry's eyes moved from Ron to her. No longer being held back by Hermione, Ron now raised his wand back up at Harry, his chest rising and falling as he breathed heavily, his anger fueling him.
"Careful, careful Ron" warned Harry, a smile returning to his face once more. He lowered his wand and put it back inside his robes; "Wouldn't want to hit your dearest Hermione with that." He pointed a finger at Ron's outstretched wand. "I know your aim isn't the best, mate."
Ron quickly realized the precarious position he put his girlfriend in and he began to slowly lower his wand, his eyes however, remaining on Harry.
Harry whispered reassuringly to Hermione as his gaze was transfixed on Ron.
"Don't worry, Hermione," he said, her attention turning from Ron to him, his voice now a deadly hiss as he winked at her. "I'll save you."
"Harry! No!" shrieked Hermione.
"CRUCIO!" bellowed Harry.
"NO!"
Harry's body jolted awake as he sat bolt upright in his four post, breathing heavily, his body drenched in sweat. He took several deep, calming breaths.
Ignoring the bewildered looks from Dean, Seamus, and Neville, Harry reached a trembling hand to his glasses and fixed them on his face.
As the world before him came into focus, so did Harry's resolve; He decided right there, one way or another, to let Hermione know how he felt.
He had to.
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