Simply Beautiful

“It’s about time you got here.”

Harry Potter heard the familiar and welcoming voice before he even got a chance to enter the caves located on the outskirts of Hogsmeade. He was visiting his godfather for the last time before the term was over.

“Sorry I’m late. I had to shake off Ron and Hermione… It wasn’t easy,” Harry said, as he handed Sirius Black his backpack, which was full of food from the Hogwarts kitchens. As always, the house-elves were more than happy to provide.

For the first time ever, Harry was visiting his godfather alone. And for the first time since Ron and Hermione broke up, the two were going to be alone in Hogsmeade together. He hoped that they could handle it. Harry knew that he was selfish in wanting to spend time with his godfather alone, but it couldn’t be helped. For the first time ever, he actually wanted advice about a girl. And he had a thought that Sirius was probably the only one who’d be able to help him.

Sirius rummaged through the bag before pulling out what he had hoped to find.

“You brought them!” Sirius cried, and Harry couldn’t help but laugh as the older wizard bit into a bright red apple, taking a huge chunk out of the side. Sirius sighed and moaned, taking pleasure in the sweet taste he hadn’t experienced in many, many years.

“Compliments of Dobby, the house-elf,” Harry said as he sat down on the stony ground. He leaned back against the cave walls, bringing his knees up to his chest as he watched his godfather. Sirius finished the apple in five more bites and tossed the core to the side.

“I don’t know how you do it,” Sirius said, regarding his godson with a look Harry didn’t recognize.

Harry gave Sirius a puzzled look. “Do what? Sneak into the kitchens and get you food? I told you –“

“No, not that, Harry,” Sirius said, cutting him off. “I mean… everything.” He continued piercing Harry with the same strange, knowing look.

“And what is ‘everything’?” Harry wondered.

Sirius leaned back against the opposite wall, stretching his legs out in front of him. He took another long look at Harry before saying, “I’m talking about Hermione.”

Harry sucked in a deep breath, letting it out slowly. “I see…” he replied. “And what is it about her that you don’t understand?”

“It’s not her that I don’t understand. It’s you. I don’t get how you can go day by day, knowing how you feel about her, and feeling what you feel for her, yet…not telling her.”

Harry smiled bitterly to himself. “Oh… I manage,” he said.

“I know how you manage. You’re not the only one who’s been visiting me.”

Harry looked sharply at Sirius, his eyes narrowing. He didn’t even need to ask.

“Hermione’s worried about you,” Sirius explained. “She says you spend all your time in the library, and you hardly socialize anymore.”

Harry shrugged. “That’s not all true,” he argued in his defense. “It’s not like I dropped Quidditch or anything.”

“That’s what I told Hermione,” Sirius said. “And that seemed to make her feel a little better. But it still doesn’t explain your behavior. For her, at least.”

“She shouldn’t have come to you in the first place,” Harry muttered. “If she was that concerned about me, she should have come to me.”

“And what would you have told her, Harry?” Sirius asked.

Harry shrugged again. “I dunno… Something. Anything.”

“She cares about you, Harry. And she worries. Most of all, she worries about you. Now, you don’t have to explain it to me. I already know what’s going on.”

Harry grinned. “Now you sound like a very blunt version of Dumbledore. He may know almost everything, but at least he doesn’t flaunt it.”

Choosing to ignore this statement, Sirius pressed on. “What’s eating at you, Harry? And don’t tell me it’s nothing, because I know better. Just tell me the truth.”

Harry didn’t look at Sirius, seeming more fascinated by the loose thread in his t-shirt than anything else. “What am I supposed to say? I’m simply stressed out by school…and stuff,” he told him.

“And stuff?” Sirius repeated with raised brows. “Meaning Hermione, right?”

“Maybe…” Harry replied slowly.

Sirius leaned back slightly, observing his godson with renewed interest. “You’re terrified to tell her how you feel,” he stated.

“To say the least.”

“Because?” Sirius prompted.

Harry shrugged. “If you were infatuated with a girl, and you were too terrified to tell her, what would be your reason?” he asked.

Sirius grinned, not at all perturbed by Harry’s frustration. “Then you fear rejection?”

Harry sighed with a touch of impatience. “She’s Hermione! Why would she want to have anything to do with me?”

In spite of Harry’s confusion and fury, Sirius couldn’t bite back a smile, which only infuriated the younger wizard even more.

“She’s just a girl, Harry,” Sirius told him.

“No, she’s not,” Harry argued. “She’s—she’s—“

Sirius inclined his head, urging Harry to continue what he obviously couldn’t put into words. Harry groaned in frustration, throwing his head back and accidentally banging it on the stone walls. He rubbed the soreness from his head while Sirius chuckled.

“There just aren’t enough words to fully describe Hermione. She’s one-of-a-kind, and she deserves nothing but the best,” Harry finally finished.

“And what makes you think you don’t fit that description?” Sirius asked.

Harry tossed his godfather a pointed look. “Look at me. I’m a mess. I’m a load of problems no girl should have to put up with.”

“I see,” Sirius said with a thoughtful look in his eye. “In other words, you’ve already decided for Hermione whom she should end up with?”

“I haven’t decided for her. I just know that I'm not it,” Harry corrected automatically.

“And does she get any say in this?”

Harry opened his mouth to reply, and then decided he didn’t know what to say.

“The thing is, Harry,” Sirius continued, pressing his hands together, “the choice is hers, not yours, no matter what you think and no matter what you say. The other thing is: you’ve been spending your time believing that Hermione would never return your feelings. You’ve probably played it over in your head so many times that you couldn’t possibly be convinced otherwise. But there’s one thing you forgot to consider.”

Harry shook his head in confusion. “What?” he asked.

Sirius leaned forward, pinning Harry to his spot with his dark eyes. “What if she does have feelings for you? Will you let the opportunity slide? Or will you follow your heart?”

Harry sat in his spot, stunned by the main question. He didn’t know what to think or what to say. Deep down, a part of him knew that Sirius was right. And one thing was for sure—Sirius had certainly given him a lot to think about.

*

“I know your secret.”

Hermione spun around, the lid to her trunk slamming closed in the process as she faced the doorway to her dorm. Ron stood there, casually leaning against the door frame.

“Ron? What are you doing here?” she asked, not fully understanding the knowing look in Ron’s eyes.

“Aren’t you going to invite me in?” Ron asked.

Hermione sighed, running a hand through her frizzy hair. “I’m…packing…” she said, hoping this sufficed as a reason not to invite him in. There was something about his smile and his casual demeanor that left a feeling of doom in the pit of her stomach. Whatever Ron wanted, she didn’t want anything to do with it.

Ron clucked his tongue, sighing dramatically. “If it were Harry standing here, you would have invited him in,” he told her.

Hermione suddenly found herself wishing Harry were there. Why was Ron acting this way?

“If you want to come in, come in,” Hermione finally said, waving her hand weakly in invitation.

Ron grinned, but it wasn’t a friendly grin. It vaguely reminded her of Draco Malfoy, and the fact that Ron could ever remind her of Malfoy made the situation even more disturbing.

“Aren’t you going to ask me why I’m here?” Ron asked as he shuffled slowly into the room.

Hermione raised her brows at the youngest male Weasley. “Why are you here, Ron?”

Ron sat down on the corner of her bed, acting as though he had full rights to be there. She didn’t want him there at all.

“As I said moments earlier: I know your secret. But I don’t want you to worry. Your secret is safe with me.”

Hermione rolled her eyes. “I don’t have any secrets.”

Ron kept grinning at her, and the next instant, it hit her. Hard. He knew about Harry, and her feelings for him. How he knew, she didn’t know. And just by looking at him, she knew he had realized what she had realized.

“Again—your secret is safe with me,” Ron told her in a sickly sweet tone. “But you can imagine my surprise when I discovered that you broke up with me to be with him. Then again—why should I be surprised? He is ‘the boy who lived’ isn’t he? The hero always gets the girl, right?”

At first, Hermione felt horrible that Ron had figured out the truth. She wanted him to be spared of the pain she had caused him. She wanted to have his friendship back. But as Ron continued to speak, her guilt hardened to anger, and she wanted to Curse him so badly it made her eyes sting.

“I don’t know how you found out, Ron. But I’m not going feel guilty over something that I have no control over. Furthermore, I don’t owe you any explanations. Now please, Ron…get out.”

Ron’s fake smile ate at her as he stood up calmly once again, making his way towards the door. “You should learn to treat me nicely, Hermione. You never know what information might accidently slip to a certain raven-haired, emerald-eyed boy we all know.”

“Is that a threat?” Hermione asked as she turned to face him, hands on hips. “You promised you wouldn’t say anything. You realize that you’re alienating yourself from the rest of us, don’t you? Ron—this isn’t you.”

“Maybe it is, Hermione,” Ron told her before making his exit.

Hermione felt like cursing. Things had been going so well over the past month! Why did Ron have to spoil everything? How had he even found out? She decided that wasn’t the important question at the point. The real question was: How would she tell Harry about her feelings, before Ron did?

*

The last full day at Hogwarts brought sun, warmth, and a gentle breeze playing through the trees, as Harry sat at the lake’s shore, watching the wind rippling over the water. And like clockwork, he thought mostly of how much he didn’t want to go home to the Dursleys, and of how much he’d miss his school, his friends... and most of all,Hermione.

“It’s going to be just you and me, Hedwig,” Harry murmured gloomily as he ran a finger along his snowy owl’s wing. Hedwig gave a soft hoot.

“Only for a couple of months, Harry.”

Harry looked up to see Hermione approaching him from the side. The look of sadness on her face mirrored his own feelings exactly. She clearly didn’t want to leave, either. But at least she would be going home to a loving family.

“Hi, Hedwig,” Hermione greeted, sitting next to Harry in the grass. She brought her knees up to her chest, resting her chin on her knees as she stared into the lake.

Hedwig gave another hoot, spread her wings, and took off into the clear blue sky. Harry and Hermione sat still, side-by-side, simply enjoying each other’s company.

“It’s been a crazy year,” Hermione told him softly, without actually looking at him.

“Yes, it has,” Harry agreed.

“Do you think next year will be just as mad?” Hermione asked.

Harry grinned, laughing softly through his nose. “It wouldn’t be Hogwarts otherwise, would it?” was his rhetorical reply as he finally turned to face her.

Her head turned at the same time, and they both shared a smile that made them weak in the knees.

Harry took this moment to admire and memorize exactly the way Hermione looked in that moment. The sun shone in her eyes, bringing out different hues he had never noticed before, mostly because he had never bothered to notice before now. The sun also brought out red highlights from her usually chestnut colored hair, and as he took in her entire appearance, he realized with a stab in his chest that it would be two whole months before he saw her again. He didn’t actually believe he would survive it.

Hermione had been the one bright spot in his life at Hogwarts. He couldn’t quite explain it, but he felt something inside him when he thought of her, when he looked at her, when he dreamed about her. It was a wonderful feeling, and he couldn’t help but wonder what would happen to it if he was separated from her. Would the feeling disappear? Would it fade? Could it fade? He sometimes wondered what the feeling meant. He knew he had strong feelings for her—he’d be a fool to even deny that fact to himself. But could this strong feeling inside him mean something deeper?

Looking at her, Harry secretly thought that she had never looked so beautiful. He wanted to drill that into his mind. He decided at that moment he didn’t want the feeling inside him to drift away. He wanted it to grow stronger, and develop into something he knew he would never feel for anyone else. How could he make that happen?

“Do you think you can do me a favor?” Harry asked, an idea hitting him. He felt his heart thumping anxiously beneath his ribcage.

“Of course!” Hermione exclaimed cheerfully.

Harry hesitated, not wanting to meet Hermione’s eager and happy smile.

“Come on, Harry…” Hermione urged, bumping his shoulder with her own. “You can ask me anything.”

“Alright…” Harry said slowly. “I was wondering…if you could call me this summer. At the Dursleys.”

Hermione nodded. “I can do that.”

“A lot,” added Harry.

This time Hermione frowned, and Harry’s heart plummeted with dread. “Of course I’ll call you. I’ll call you as often as possible. I promise, Harry,” she told him, hearing the distinct note of desperation in his voice.

Harry heard himself sighing with relief.

“Can I ask why?” Hermione asked.

Harry felt sick with nervousness. Sirius’ words were echoing in his mind, and he wondered if he had been right. Could Hermione have feelings for him? Had all those rumors been right? One way or another, he knew he had to tell her how he felt, at least before they were separated for the entire summer.

“Because, Hermione…” Harry began. “I don’t think I can last two months…without…hearing your voice.” As he said the final words, his eyes met hers, and Hermione found herself feeling weak and shaky all over. There was a certain quality in his eyes that made her heart pound.

“Why?” she breathed.

Neither of them were aware of just how close together they were drawing. In the back of Harry’s mind, he knew he only had to tilt his head another inch to kiss her.

“You wouldn’t believe me if I told you,” he said shyly.

Hermione smiled, inching slowly toward him, not thinking clearly of what she was doing.

“Enlighten me,” she said softly.

With no further thoughts, Harry pressed his lips to Hermione’s, and they shared the most tender of all kisses. Her hand gently reached up to touch the side of his face as they both reveled in the moment they had each been waiting for, a waiting period that had lasted too long.

As the short and sweet kiss ended they each pulled back, and Harry took Hermione’s hand into his, looking deeply into her eyes with a smile that sent her heart rocking beneath her ribs.

“The thing is…I think I might be in love with you, Hermione.” As he said the words, he knew how true they were, and just how deeply he meant them.

Hermione was in a dream. The one thing she never expected Harry to say to her had actually been said. She wanted to freeze this moment, and the wonderful sensations she felt inside. Her heart was soaring! In this moment, she doubted anything could bring her down.

“Oh…” she sighed in realization.

Harry drew his head back slightly, his eyes frowning in puzzlement.

Hermione giggled, and soon enough her giggles transformed into a long, twinkling burst of laughter.

“What’s so funny?” Harry asked her, while secretly enjoying the sound of her laughter.

After Hermione managed to gather her composure once more, she looked at Harry shyly, a slight smile still tracing her lips as she formed her thoughts together.

“Do you remember telling me that you broke up with Cho because you had feelings for another girl?” she asked him timidly.

“Of course I do. I was trying to tell you how I feel about you. I was hoping you’d just guess, so I wouldn’t have cope with how to tell you.”

“So it was me?” Hermione asked, her voice full of surprise.

“Of course it was,” Harry laughed, his eyes lighting up with joy. “Hermione…it’s always been you.”

Hermione favored him with a sweet, warm smile. “It’s always been you, Harry,” she told him.

As she said the words, Harry’s face lit up, and she could clearly see in his eyes how truly and deeply his affections for her went. She felt a swell of relief, contentment and peace that she hadn’t known in a very long time. But then the cynical voice in the back of her head started speaking more clearly, and it made her question everything that she felt for Harry. Could she really love Harry? What did she know about love? Logically, she was only 15 years old. She had the experience of one relationship with her.

“But—Harry—“ she said, in a voice full of worry and dread. But she was cut off long before she could sort out her thoughts into words, as Harry placed a single finger on her lips, silencing her immediately.

“Don’t start to argue it now,” he told her, the encouraging smile on his face and the confidence in his eyes strengthening her nerve. “I know what’s going through your mind. But the thing is, Hermione, when it comes to love, there is no logic. It simply…is.”

Hermione smiled in return, her heart squeezing with happiness. “I can agree with that,” she said warmly.

“Good,” Harry replied. “Then tell me, Miss Granger…What do we do now?”

“We hope and pray that the next two months go by as fast as possible…so we can be together in September,” said Hermione, her heart suddenly not feeling as light as it once did.

“And we have less than 24 hours before we leave. In which case, we’re together now. What would you like to do?” Harry asked, a devilish twinkle in his eye that made Hermione turn to butter.

“Let’s watch the sun go down,” Hermione suggested, reveling in the feel of Harry’s arms around her as he pulled her closer. Her own arms circled around his frame, and she rested her head on his chest. “That way… whenever you watch the sun set during the summer, I’ll be with you every time.”

Harry smiled, feeling a welcoming rush of warmth spread through him.

“You’re always with me, Hermione,” Harry told her, bringing a blush to her cheeks.

“And I always will be,” she promised, snuggling up to him.

They sat in silence as the sun began to set, and Harry sighed contentedly, thinking of how simple and beautiful life was once again.

*

'Dear Snuffles,

This is just one more note before we all head back ‘home’ for the holidays. We’re all packed to go, and I’ve already started the countdown to when I’ll be back here at Hogwarts. I’m hoping next term will bring your freedom. Sometimes, that’s all I can think about.

Other times, all I can think about is Hermione. And by the way, you were right. I told her about my feelings, and it turns out she has feelings for me, too. Actually, she just admitted to me not too long ago that at the moment I told her about my feelings, she was going to tell me about hers. She also admitted to being extremely relieved that she didn’t have to be the first to bring it up. I can’t say that I blame her! She also made sure to mention that she told you about her feelings for me during one of her visits with you. Thanks for keeping that information from me. (That was sarcasm—in case you didn’t catch it). Merlin forbid you make life easier for me. You’d better hope I don’t have my wand with me the next time I see you. I might be tempted to use one of my more “interesting” hexes on you. (That was a joke, Snuffles!)

Anyway, Hermione and I are very happy. I don’t know how Ron feels about everything. He’s been pretty closed off the past little while. I’m starting to get confused. At one point it seemed like Hermione and Ron were getting along just like old times. That was…until very recently. Hermione hasn’t said anything about it, so that makes me wonder if I’m just imagining things. I’m starting to think that life will never be the same. On one hand, I feel like being with Hermione will only make things worse for those around us. But on the other hand, being with Hermione is the best thing that has ever happened to me. I feel like…as long as I have her, I can cope with anything, and if anyone else has a problem with that, oh well. That sounds selfish, I know. But what am I supposed to do?

I think that’s all I can write for now. My roommates are leaving for the carriages as I’m writing this. Hopefully by the time you write back, I’ll have everything sorted out. Like I said, I have Hermione. I can take on the world.

Take care of yourself,

Harry

P.S. Thanks for the advice. I'll talk to you soon.'

Sirius rolled up the letter with a smile on his face. And without further thought, he dashed over to his secret stash and pulled out some clean parchment, a quill and a bottle of ink which Harry had supplied him with during his visits. He then sat down in his cave, by the light of the sun, and started his reply, the smile never leaving his face.

*

Ron tapped softly on Hermione’s bedroom door, hearing her tossing last-minute objects into her trunk.

“Come in!” she called, and he opened the door, slightly shaking with fear that she might Curse him the moment her eyes landed on him.

“Hermione,” Ron greeted, and she spun around to face him, her face twisted into an expression of absolute hatred.

“Get out,” she ordered, a solitary finger pointed at the doorway.

“I need to explain!” Ron insisted.

“Tell someone who cares,” Hermione said, mustering up the patience to deal with Ron.

“You care, Hermione. You always care,” Ron told her, his eyes pleading for her to understand, to just give him a moment of her time.

“You can’t sweet-talk me, Ron,” Hermione replied. “If you want to act like a Malfoy, you get treated like one.”

“I faked it. That wasn’t me.”

“Maybe it is, Ron,” Hermione retorted, throwing his words back in his face.

“It was the only way—“

“To what? Make me do whatever you wanted? I can’t believe you would sink so low.”

“Hermione, I’ve known about your feelings for Harry for a while. But what you don’t know is that it didn’t bother me. I wasn’t doing it to be a genuine prat…I was doing it to get over my pain. I know. It’s selfish either way.”

“What are you talking about?” Hermione snapped impatiently.

Ron realized at this point that he had Hermione’s attention. And though she may hate him later on, he needed to get it out now, before too much time stretched between them. Before their friendship truly became irreparable.

“It’s no secret that I hurt quite a bit after you broke up with me. I don’t deal with pain well…I don’t deal with rejection well. And Ginny told me… that the only way to get over the pain and finally heal…was to turn the pain into something selfless. She told me to turn it into happiness, to do something good for someone else, so I could be proud of myself. I thought she was mad at the time. But then… I started to see what she meant.

"When I discovered your feelings for Harry, and I realized that he felt the same way about you, I thought this was the perfect opportunity to truly put myself through the test. I thought—if I could handle you and Harry being together, then I wouldn’t hurt anymore. So…I acted like the jealous ex boyfriend…I acted like Malfoy because I knew it was the only way to really get your attention.”

“Why didn’t you just tell me how Harry felt?” Hermione asked, not knowing what to make of Ron’s story.

“Because that would be a complete betrayal as a best mate, right? It’s the same reason I couldn’t tell Harry how you felt.”

“So you…tricked me…so I could be with Harry?”

“Exactly,” Ron sighed, glad to be rid of the burden of his secret.

Hermione felt the anger build up inside, and she was unable to control it as she exploded with rage.

“Are you MAD?!” she shrieked.

Ron flinched, stepping backwards as Hermione advanced on him, her eyes flashing, her face reddening in a hellish fury.

“A little,” Ron mumbled, knowing any response at this moment would do him no good.

“That is the most DANGEROUS, RIDICULOUS, IDIOTIC theory I have EVER heard. What if Harry DIDN’T have feelings for me, and I made a FOOL of myself? Did you EVER think about that?”

“Of course I did!” Ron insisted. “I wouldn’t have gone through with it otherwise. I would never put you through that humiliation.”

“And what if your plan backfired? What would have happened if you were not only still angry, but furious that Harry and I were together?”

Ron cringed. “I didn’t think about that…but that doesn’t even matter, right? I mean—I’m not furious. I’m fine.”

“Yeah, you really thought this one through,” Hermione replied sarcastically. “You know what…it doesn’t even matter. You were tampering with something that—that—“ Hermione tried to gather her composure, and once she stopped yelling, sadness swept over her, tears burning her eyes. “You made me believe that our friendship was over. You made me believe that I had lost you forever.”

“Hermione—“

“That’s the worst thing a friend could put another friend through. Did you think I wouldn’t care if I had lost you? Did you think that all I cared about was Harry? That as long as I had him, nothing else mattered?”

“A while ago I did, but not anymore. I know what I did was wrong. Which is why I had to tell you, no matter how you would react,” Ron told her. “For so long I was so angry…and I was tired of it. I was exhausted. The truth is Hermione…I was never angry with you. I was angry with myself. In fact, it wasn’t until I saw you and Harry together that I finally started to feel peaceful inside. It’s made me realize what I’m really made of. I can be strong when I want to be, when I need to be. And this kind of strength comes from inside. I know I don’t have to rely on others to keep me grounded. This whole experience has made me learn a lot about myself, and I have you to thank.”

Hermione stared at Ron, feeling all the anger, sadness and resentment melt away. She knew at that moment that she had forgiven Ron, and she was glad for it. She rolled her eyes, sighing with fake impatience.

“And Ginny,” she reminded him.

“And my darling little sister,” he agreed, smiling. Then as if remembering why he was really there, he added with sincerity in his eyes, “I’m really, really sorry, Hermione.”

Hermione sighed, shaking her head. “You are forgiven, Ron. Don’t you ever pull another stunt like that again.”

“I swear,” Ron promised.

“Good. Now what?” Hermione asked, shrugging uncomfortably as the tension lifted from the room.

“Now we hug,” Ron told her.

“Ron!” Hermione felt laughter bubbling inside her.

“Hey—it’s a happy ending. That’s what people do. They hug.”

“That’s what you do,” Hermione retorted.

“Are you not happy?” Ron asked her, his grin growing wider.

“I am.”

“Then we hug.”

“But—“

“No one is leaving this room until I get a hug!” Ron insisted in mock hurt.

Hermione burst into laughter as Harry lunged at Ron from behind, wrapping his arms around him in a strong, brotherly hug.

“That’s more like it,” Ron said as they parted.

“Oh…now I’m feeling neglected,” Hermione sighed dramatically.

Both Harry and Ron threw themselves onto Hermione, and the ‘Dream Team’ shared a three-way embrace, each feeling relief and joy once again.

“Friends forever,” Ron said, as they parted.

“Friends forever,” Harry and Hermione chorused.

“Let’s go catch those carriages before they leave without us,” Ron suggested, and he led the way as Harry hung back with Hermione, staying out of earshot.

“Together forever,” Harry whispered into Hermione’s ear, clasping his hand with hers.

“Now and forever,” Hermione agreed.

The End.
***