Paint the Sky with Stars

The night was dark. Clouds covered the sky, blocking out even the tiny pinpricks of light from the stars. Under the boughs of the tree where Harry lay, it was so dark that he could barely make out the outline of his hand in front of his face. The wind sang a mournful song and Harry's heart ached for it, he knew just how it felt. The wind was

all-alone, just like him.

How was it that he could have so many friends, and still feel so horribly, achingly lonely? He had Ron and the rest of the Weasleys, Neville, Luna, Lupin, Tonks, Dumbledore, the list went on and on...and yet, none of them filled the void inside his heart. And he could play dumb all he wanted, but the fact still remained, that void could only be filled by one person, the one person whom he no longer wanted to call a friend, but who would never be anything more. Hermione.

He had only to close his eyes to see her--that familiar bushy brown head with its stern expression, admonishing him for daydreaming when he should be studying. She was annoying and bossy and utterly impossible, but he loved her with all of his heart and soul. And he was her best friend. Just her best friend.

How had it come to this? Him lying forlornly under a tree, lost in thought about the girl that was supposed to be only his friend, while she lay snug in her bed, happily oblivious. For years he had barely even seen her as a girl, and then one day she had smiled at him and it was like basking in the glow of the sun. His world was alight while she smiled, and he had known then that he loved her. But the clouds of despair were quick to chase away the sun, and he was left feeling empty and lonely. And afraid. Afraid that without her, he would never be happy again. A flower without the sun eventually wilts and dies. How could he live without his sun?

Something moved in the branches above Harry, rustling the leaves. He tensed; years of being at the top of every Death Eater in the country's hit list had given him a reason to fear things that go bump in the dark. Lying completely still, he strained to hear any sounds of danger, but all was quiet once more, it must have just been some animal. Relaxing, he sank back into his despair.

The wind seemed to be uncannily echoing his thoughts; it began to wail across the grounds now, whipping the branches of the trees into a fury. There was a loud crack of a branch snapping and then he heard a faint, "Oh, shit!" and someone fell hard onto his chest. The air left his lungs in a great whoosh, rendering speech impossible. For a moment neither of them spoke as Harry gasped for breath and the person lay, apparently stunned, in a crumpled heap on his chest. Finally they crawled off of him.

"I'm so sorry," a voice said, wretchedly, from beside him. "Are you okay?"

Shock kept Harry silent for a moment longer, he did not need to be able to see to know whom the person sitting beside him was, he would recognize that voice anywhere.

"Hermione?" he said, barely believing it could be true. For him to have been wishing so hard for her, and then to have her drop down from out of the sky on top of him, like a gift from heaven, seemed a little too neat of a coincidence.

"Harry?" she asked, and there was no doubting the identity of that voice now, Harry had memorized the sound of his name coming from those soft lips.

"I've never heard you say shit before," he told her. He knew he should be asking if she were okay, but the whole situation seemed so unreal that his mind could not comprehend such ordinary concerns, focusing instead on the trivial.

"Yes, well you try falling out of a tree and see if you don't say it, too," she said indignantly.

Realizing that she had taken his comment as an insult, he hurried to correct her. "I mean, it's fine. I was just surprised."

"Oh. Good. I didn't want you to think badly of me."

"Never," he assured her. They fell so easily into conversation, it would have seemed strange, if it hadn't been for the strangeness of the situation in the first place. As it was, their casual conversation seemed to fit the dream-like quality of the evening.

She stretched out on her back next to him. "This is nice," she commented.

"Yeah." He concentrated very hard on the feeling of the grass pricking the backs of his hands as they rested behind his head, trying not to think about how close they were lying.

It was too perfect. The whole situation was so unbelievable it had to be a dream. He must have fallen asleep under the tree. But to waste such a perfect opportunity, even in a dream, seemed criminal, so he told the dream Hermione what he would never dare tell the real one. "I love you, Hermione," he whispered up to the black sky.

Beside him, Hermione gasped. Despair flooded him, could she not even return his feelings in his dreams? Then she spoke, her voice so soft that he had to strain to hear it over the wind. "I love you, too."

A little spark of light lit in Harry's heart then spread with blinding intensity throughout him--a joy such as he had never known before.

Turning to face her, he reached out in the dark until his hand felt her cheek. Gently, so as not to chase this wonderful dream away, he ran his fingers down the smooth skin of her cheek. Feeling the wetness of tears, he carefully wiped them away. It did not seem wrong for her to be crying, because he could feel the moisture on his own cheeks, cold from the wind. Her hand came up to clutch almost desperately at the front of his shirt, as if afraid he would disappear. To reassure both her and himself, he gathered her small frame into his arms and pressed her up against him. Her body was warm, and he marveled that he had ever been able to stay warm without her. He buried his face in her curls, breathing in the sent of cinnamon and fall leaves. Nothing had ever felt so right.

"Is this real?" he whispered into her neck.

"I hope so. If this is a dream, then I never want to wake up," she replied, and he could feel her breath in his hair.

Slowly, he brought his face up next to hers. Wondering at his own daring, he lightly touched her lips with his own. When she did not object, he deepened the kiss, caressing her face with his hands, trying to show her his love in a way words could never express. Her fingers ran up and down his spine, making him shiver. This was nothing like kissing Cho. That had been wet and awkward. Hermione's lips felt like they had been made for his and she tasted sweet, like honey. This was heaven.

When they broke apart, they lay on the ground, holding each other for a long time in silence.

"I think this must be real, because I could never dream such happiness," Hermione said, her voice sounding awed.

Harry smiled. "I love you," he said again, just to hear the words, amazed that he was finally able to voice what had been in his heart for so long.

Hermione laughed. "You know, I never imagined that coming out here tonight would be the answer to all of my wildest dreams."

"What were you doing up in that tree, anyway?" Harry asked, suddenly curious, now that the shock of the situation was starting to wear off.

"I was watching the sunset."

"The sunset?" he asked, disbelievingly. "But it's the middle of the night! The sun set hours ago!"

"Yeah, I know," he could feel her cheek, which was pressed up against his, get hot with embarrassment. "Once I got up there...it was so high up...I was afraid to come down," she finished in a small voice.

Harry chuckled and pulled her closer to him. "So you've just been up in that tree for hours? Did you know I was here?"

"No, I kind of fell asleep," she said sheepishly. "I yelled for awhile, but no one came, so I was just going to sit back and wait. But I was up late last night studying, and the next thing I knew the wind was blowing so hard that all of the branches were moving around, and then the branch I was leaning on snapped and I lost my balance and fell...on to you," she added, and he felt her smile against his cheek. "But I fell for you a long time ago."

It was only much later, as they walked hand in hand back to the castle, that Harry looked up and noticed that the blank black canvas of the sky had been painted with millions of shining stars.

~*~~*~~*~

Place a name upon the Night,

One to set your heart alight.

And to make the darkness bright,

Paint the Sky with Stars.

-Enya, Paint the Sky with Stars