Some Days Should Come With Their Own Warning Label

Hi, I was just driving home from work last night and this popped into my head. I am going to go ahead and post two chapters because they're short. This should be a rather short story. I know I need to update PVGR, and I'm actually going to continue writing the next chapter as soon as I post this. Well, hope you enjoy!

CHAPTER ONE: Nothing More, Nothing Less

You know those moments you plan and plan in your mind? The ones where you imagine yourself doing something, over and over, until you come up with the perfect fantasy of how things will pan out? And despite always thinking “oh, it would never happen that way” or “he'll never feel the same,” in your heart, you still just know it will go the way you've planned. And it isn't something that is “better than you've ever imagined” or “didn't go quite like you thought.” No. It goes just the way you imagined: no more, no less. It's perfect, just like you knew it would be. You couldn't ask for more.

And you definitely weren't expecting less.

I don't do things unless I'm certain of the outcome. I don't take chances. I don't like the risks. Perhaps that's why I never told him how I felt. I was always uncertain. I've been in love with him since I was thirteen. Maybe it wasn't love at thirteen, but somewhere down the road of our friendship, I fell in love.

I always imagined his confession of love. Would he cry? Would it be subtle? I had fantasized it in all different ways until I came upon my favorite. No matter how many times I dreamed about it, it would never happen. But I know he feels the same way. I can tell. With his looks, our long talks. His touches. I just know. But he's too scared. I've waited and waited. I continued to dream and fantasize, tweaking every little detail to perfection when I realized if I wanted it to happen that way, I had to make it happen myself. And with our Seventh Year coming to an end, I knew it had to be soon.

So my dream changed. We altered roles, if you will. I suddenly initiated the talk. I confessed my love for him. And it was perfect. No more, no less.

We would be sitting in the Common Room right before sunset. I would be reading, and Harry would just be sitting there, lazily doing his Charms essay.

I look up from my book as Harry disinterestedly leafed through his Charms book, bored. I smile as the perfect opportunity presented itself.

I would innocently ask him if he would like to go for a walk around the lake, perhaps to catch a glimpse of the sunset.

Almost as if acting out the script of a play, I stand over him and offer him my hand. “Fancy a walk around the lake? I think the sun will be setting soon. Might be nice to catch a glimpse of it. I hear sunsets are quite beautiful.” I say with a wink.

Harry laughs at my antics and is more than willing to take me up on my offer.

The walk outside would be a silent one, as well as the walk around the lake. Our hands would be clasped together in a friendly way that would hint possible undiscovered feelings. The sunset would indeed be beautiful.

We walk wordlessly around the lake, just enjoying each others' company. “You're right. Sunsets are quite pretty.” Harry says with a laugh.

I smile. “Must have read about it somewhere.” I joke.

He laughs. I like to make him laugh. I'm not the funny type, so when I do, I relish in it.

Finally, after making a few rounds we would lay beneath our favorite tree, with my head on his stomach.

As we lay under the tree, I pick up his hand and begin to slowly trace Harry's fingers. He doesn't say anything and just enjoys the touch.

After a few silent minutes, I would sit up and he would do the same, slightly bewildered by my sudden change of position, slightly understanding and readying himself for what was to come. This was it. I don't beat it around the bush. We both know it's coming. I tell him he will always be my best friend. And I cherish our friendship more than anything. That I love him more than he'll ever know. And then he will lean forward and kiss me.

I smile up at his as he looks at me, slightly puzzled. “Something wrong?” Harry asked, concerned.

I shake my head. “You know you're my best friend, right Harry?” I ask softly.

He nodded. “Of course. And you know you're mine.”

I smile. “I was hoping you would say that. And you know I cherish our friendship more than life itself?” I ask slowly, not nervous in the least about what I was about to say. Because I know how it's going to turn out. I've seen this scene countless times.

As if right on cue, Harry grins. “I know, Hermione. What's this about? You're starting to scare me.” He confesses.

I laugh silently. Like he doesn't know. He may be daft, but he knows what I'm about to say.

“Harry, I—I love you.” My voice wavers ever so slightly, just like in my fantasies. Almost as if it's too much to say it.

His smile widens. “I love you too, Hermione. You know you're my favorite girl.” He leans forward to kiss me.

His words warm me from the inside out. I close my eyes and wet my lips, waiting for his to touch them. Suddenly, I feel the warmth of his lips. On my forehead.

“Um, Hermione? What are you doing?” He asked uncertainly, noting my face, lips slightly apart and ready to be kissed.

“Erm…what?” I ask, confused.

“I asked what you were doing.” Harry said slowly, backing away.

“Waiting for you to kiss me.” I say, as if it's the most obvious thing in the world.

“What?” Harry asked, backing away further now.

“I told you I loved you. And you love me. And now I'm waiting for you to kiss me.” I say.

Harry runs a nervous hand through his hair. “Hermione, I—I love you but…I mean, I thought you meant like a friendship kind of love. I don't—I mean, you're a great girl, but you're more of a…” Harry trailed off. “More of a best friend girl…not…girlfriend girl to me.” He said slowly, realizing just how incredibly stupid he sounded.

Suddenly, I feel my dream come true quickly spiraling out of control into a full-blown nightmare.

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*~Archie~*

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CHAPTER TWO: Closure

You know those moments where absolutely everything goes wrong? Those times when you feel as if that day should have come with its own warning label? When you go through the worst of mornings to get ready for work, hit every obstacle on the way, and when you finally do show up right on time, your boss is waiting at your desk with a smile—ready to shit-can your ass. And you want to scream “Why couldn't you have just sent me a text message!?” so you wouldn't have had to get out of bed and deal with the morning's events?

But you don't scream. You laugh. You laugh at the irony. At the bad luck. At the sheer stupidity of it all. Like I'm laughing right now.

Harry stares, dumbfounded. Confused. Perhaps slightly alarmed.

As he should be. His best friend just confessed her love for him, and he rejected her. And now she—I—am standing here, laughing in his face.

“Hermione?” He says slowly, unsure.

I just shake my head, still laughing. I can't believe this. I had never even considered this possibility.” I wipe a tear from my eye. “I can't believe this, Harry. Honestly, I can't. I was so sure. You know me better than anyone. I was certain I knew how this was all going to turn out.” I shake my head again as my laughter dies down.

“I'm sorry.” Harry offers uselessly.

I can only shrug. “It's not your fault. I mean,” I sigh. I've thought about this so many times. I've played it out in my head. I know there will never be another girl who could love him like I do. I decide to share this with him, knowing it won't achieve much. “I mean, it's not my loss here. Well, it is, but at the same time…it isn't. It's yours. You will never find another girl who could even begin to love you the way I do.” I tell him solemnly. “You know, there are so many girls out there who will put—what is it? What's the word?” I ask…almost giggling. “Insecurities? Ok, that works. There are so many girls who have insecurities about themselves. Who think they aren't good enough for the Great Harry Potter. Who think they aren't pretty enough. Or funny enough.” I say before giving a snort of disbelief. “And it's funny because I used to think I was one of those girls. I used to think I wasn't enough for you, for your affection.

“But now, I know I am. I've known for awhile. And I've come to realize,” I admit slowly, “That I am every bit of deserving of you. Of any bloke. Because, Harry James Potter, I am ONE HELL of a catch. And if you don't see it that way,” I scoff, “well that's on you.”

Harry looks at me now, upset. Hurt.

“And,” I say, wiping the little pieces of grass from my clothes, “That's all I have to say about that.” I finished before turning around and heading back to the Castle with too many emotions to even begin to sort out. For the moment, I wasn't going to care.

I ended up back in my dormitory, under my covers. I replayed the evening's events in my head. I still felt the same way. I still loved him. I loved him so much it almost hurt. But he didn't love me in that way. I had to get used to it.

The way things ended tonight didn't sit right with me. Well, it did and it didn't. I said what I needed to say. I told him how I felt. I took my chance. Things didn't work out the way I thought they were going to and I had to accept that. I don't regret it because I don't like having to live with what-might-have-been's. No, I did the right thing. However, the way it ended…I just didn't get closure. And that's what I needed—even if it wasn't real.

“Harry, I—I love you.” My voice wavers ever so slightly, almost as if it's too much to say it.

His smile widens. “I love you too, Hermione. You know you're my favorite girl.” He leans forward to kiss me.

His words warm me from the inside out. I close my eyes and wet my lips, waiting for his to touch them. Suddenly, I feel the warmth of his lips. On my forehead.

Understanding floods through me. If he loved me back, he wouldn't have kissed me on my forehead. Impishly, I push him away. “Oh, Harry.” I sigh softly.

“What?” He asks, daft of what his actions meant.

“When I say I love you, I mean I'm in love with you. But I can see that you don't quite feel the same way.” I mutter softly, slightly broken-hearted.

He leans forward to stroke my hair gently. “Hermione, I'm so sorry. I wish I did. I—Merlin, I wish I did. But we've just been best friends for so long—I could never jeopardize what I have with you already.”

I smile sorrowfully. Merlin, I love this man. “It's okay.” I reply, though not feeling like it's okay at all.

Harry cups my face gently before placing an apologetic kiss to my lips. I smile against his lips as a warmth flows within me. Finally, we break apart and he stands and offers me his hand. We walk back to the Castle, hand-in-hand, each with a better understanding of how things were between us.

I open my eyes.

Closure.

Please Review!

*~Archie~*

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Hi everyone—was thinking about this one the other day, and after posting a chapter for Calm Before the Storm, I figured I'd write this up real quick. I started the story with no real storyline in mind, which is why I haven't done anything with it. I had another idea, and figured I'd just incorporate it with this one. SOOOO here it is—short and face-paced, which is how I imagine all the chapters will be for this one. ENJOY! Please review!

CHAPTER THREE: …Err..What?

You know those times when things completely catch you off guard? Those moments where you life just stops for a split second, and you have no idea how to react? Those instances where your only thoughts are simple:

…Err…what?

I have had a lot of those in my life. When was I was told I was a wizard. When I found out Sirius Black was innocent. When my name was called from the Goblet of Fire. When Voldemort rose from a cauldron before my eyes. When my godfather fell behind a veil. Just to name a few.

The lastest?

When Hermione Granger—my best mate for seven years—told me she was in love with me.

What was that about? She couldn't be in love with me—she couldn't be in love with anyone. She was eighteen and has had no experience in the matter—how could she even begin to fathom what romantic love was?

I didn't know what love was, not that sort of love anyway. I love Hermione, don't get me wrong. I love her probably more than I love anyone, but not that sort of love. I love her in a way where I want what's best for her, I want her happy, I want her protected and sheltered from the cruel world because she is better than us all, deserves more than we do.

I think about this as I slowly trudge back to the castle. When I get to the Common Room, her head of bushy hair is missing. Probably in her dormitory, pissed off with me. I don't feel like chatting with anyone, so I head up to my dorm as well. Her speech about how she used to think she wasn't good enough for me is still ringing in my ears. Every word she spoke was true. Between the pair of us, it was definitely me that would come up short in that aspect. She's…too good for anyone really. I feel terrible that she would even doubt that for a second.

Replaying it in my mind, I wish I would have told her that. I wish I would have told her that I still loved her dearly. I still cared about her. That I put her above anyone else, up on her own pedestal, untouchable, unreachable. Out of my league, and everyone else's.

But I mucked that up real nice. I was stupid, and a real prat about it all. I already miss her. I have a feeling that things are going to be awkward, and already, I long for things to be the way they were two hours ago even.

Ron comes into the room, looking confused. “Hey mate, you know what's up with Hermione? Last I saw she was with you. She came up here, all upset and bothered. Asked about Potions homework—told me to shove it up my arse and do it myself.” My best mate says, slightly alarmed. “Like I had the nerve to ask! But then I realized she must be upset because she looked like she was about to cry, so I asked if she was okay…said something about someone being a stupid prat. Well, obviously I thought of myself first, but I don't think I've done anything so…I dunno mate.”

He was going to find out sooner or later, so I may as well tell him now. I sigh. “I think I've ruined our friendship.”

Ron scoffed. “Right, mate. She'll forgive you for anything—loves the hell out of you. What could you have done that was so horrible?”

Ron's choice of words causes me to grimace. “That's the problem—she loves the hell out of me, but…I don't fancy her, so now…I think she hates me.”

This threw him for a loop. “Wait, she told you fancied you!?” He asked incredulously.

“Well, more that she was in love with me.” I reply meekly.

His eyes go wide and his runs a hand through his red hair and lets out a puff of air as he drops to his bed. “Wow, mate, that's heavy. And you don't feel the same way?” Ron asked, looking bemused.

“Of course I don't. She's…well, she's Hermione. She's too good for me to even consider that, prat!” I reply, chucking a chocolate frog in his direction.

Ron nods in agreement. “Yeah, I see your point there, mate. I think she's bloody mental, but I mean, overall…she's a great girl—any bloke would be lucky to have her.”

I nod as I bite into my own chocolate frog. “It's rotten luck that I had to be the one to break her heart. She's my best friend—I'm supposed to protect her. How am I supposed to kick my own arse for breaking her heart?” I ask, slightly amused at the thought.

“I could, you know, if you want me to.” Ron says helpfully, a gleam in his blue eyes.

I give him a warning look that causes the grin to slide from his face.

“Maybe make her fall in love with someone else?” He suggests, his mouth full of sweets.

“Don't be daft, Ron. I'm not Cupid.” I said, irritated at the thought. Didn't he just hear me say no one was good enough for Hermione?

“So tomorrow is probably going to be—”

“Bleeding awkward as fuck, I imagine.” I finish for him, confirming his thoughts.

“What are you going to do?” He asks, and I shrug in response. “Well, hopefully it blows over pretty quick, with Hogsmeade this weekend and all. Let's not ruin that.” He replies.

I nod in agreement. “Yeah, if it hasn't though…I mean, I'll stay behind. It's my fault.” I tell him.

“No, you can't stay back! We won't be going for another…I don't know, but like two or three bloody months!” Ron complains.

“I know. I don't want to, but what option do I have?” I ask. “I doubt it will even come to that. Let's just see how tomorrow goes, shall we?” I try to keep my outlook positive, but I know it's going to be uncomfortable.

* * *

You know when you dread something, time seems to speed up? And you keep telling yourself that it won't be as bad as you think? That you're overreacting?

Then that thought goes out the window because once it's here, you realize it was worse than you feared even. You weren't worried enough, you bleeding idiot!

That's how today has gone. I woke up extra early and snagged breakfast before Hermione woke up. I thought it was a good idea. I ducked out in the Common Room until I absolutely had to go to my first class. I was ten minutes late, and now I have detention with Snape for a week. Fuck.

Ron graciously took my spot in the middle of the table, and I don't think Hermione looked my way once. We were allowed to have partners—which almost never happens. I swear Snape saw that Ron was sitting beside Hermione and planned it. He paired me with Hermione. Fuck number two.

She played it cool—I was a hot mess. I couldn't speak. I cut my finger trying to cut up the flobberworm, and wasn't aware that I had that much blood in my body. Snape deducted ten points from Gryffindor on the grounds of me bleeding too much, and it annoyed him. Fuck number three.

She did most of the potion, and by the end of it, had called me a wanker, prat, and idiot—all names she reserved for Ron. She never calls me those. She muttered them under her breath, but loud enough for me to hear. I have to admit, I deserved it with how I was acting. We had to cork our potions separately in vials for our marks, and I dropped mine, earning another ten points taken away for seeking attention and disrupting class again. I wasn't about to ask Hermione if she could put my name on hers—not that Snape would even accept that—thus effectively earning myself a zero for the day when my potion was no doubt flawless. Fuck number four.

And that was just in Potions.

By the end of the day, I had counted over twenty-five. I turned in early, without doing my homework, just to escape the day.

But today is a brand new day. I'm up early again. I go to breakfast early. End up in the Common Room, rushing through my homework. Hermione walks by, tells me good morning—like she's unaffected by the whole thing—and leaves me be.

And that was my routine for the rest of the week. By Friday, I wanted to escape to Hogsmeade for a day, but that didn't look like it was going to happen.

Then Ron walks up to me with some news.

“It's fine—not going to be awkward tomorrow at all—Hermione just informed me that she's going to Hogsmeade tomorrow with Justin Finch-Fletchley. You're in the clear mate!” He said cheerfully with a large grin.

Hearing his words, my world stops for a second.

`…Er…what?'

Thanks for reading! Let me know what you think! PLEASE REVIEW!

*~Archie~*

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