Unnecessary Tears

Unnecessary tears

It was a silent night. Hermione Granger was sitting on one of the couches in the Gryffindor common room, her Head Girl badge glinting as the flames danced merrily in front of her.

She was musing. Musing about her best friends. Or more specifically, one of her best friends: Harry Potter, the Boy-Who-Lived. The boy she loved. The Quidditch Captain and Head Boy.

She sighed, flipping over her diary. She had felt so confused for the past few weeks, but now she knew better. She knew what that feeling of butterflies in her stomach whenever she was near him meant. She knew why she felt so intoxicated when he was next to her, laughing with Ron. That rich warm laugh.

Hermione shivered. She continued writing in her diary, occasionally stopping to dip her quill into the inkpot and chew it thoughtfully.

Finally, she decided to make her way back to her rooms which she shared with Harry, since he was Head Boy.

As she entered their common room, she saw Harry sitting in front of the fire, staring into the flames.

"Harry," she said softly, as she slowly approached him.

He turned around to see her, and smiled. "Hey, why are you up so late?"

"I was just thinking." She sat beside him, extremely close, on the small couch. She could smell him. Her head was spinning, and she smiled a little dreamily. Harry turned to look at her and stared. He had felt rather differently towards her for a long time, but tonight, it was as if there was something telling him to move forward and touch her, to kiss her.

She turned around, and, accidentally, her lips met his. Briefly, for only a fraction of a second. Stunned, she stared at him.

He was looking at her, his eyes wide with shock. She could not see what he was thinking, but she knew he would hate her forever. Tears cascaded down her cheeks. Without a backward glance, she ran up to her room and collapsed on her bed in a heap.

She tried to stop the flow of tears, but they kept coming, and soon her pillow was wet with her tears.

Our friendship is all gone just because I turned around to look at him. It's my entire fault. I hope Harry forgives me, Hermione thought, when her sobs gradually subsided.

Finally, she drifted off to sleep.

*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*

Downstairs, a certain raven-haired, green-eyed seeker was still sitting on the couch. He was still in the same position.

When Hermione's lips touched his, he had felt a sense of completion. But why did she run away?

Harry had felt shocked at first, and if Hermione did not run away, he could have kissed her again and held her in his arms.

He knew for certain that he was in love. In love with Hermione Granger, his best friend of seven years. He sighed, thinking she would never feel the same. He leaned back into his couch with a sigh. He would have to ask her about it in the morning, if she would speak with him. He hoped everything would be fine between them.

And as he touched his lips, he grinned. The feeling of her lips against his was great. He had never felt that way before. Cho was a good kisser he mused, and Parvati was all right. But he knew that he never felt in love with either of them.

They were nice, but he never really liked them. And that was the reason why he dated so many girls. Because none of them felt right.

He had been looking for someone to love, and it turned out that she was right in front of him. Hermione Granger was the person he had loved for so long. She was the one that kept him from liking other people. She might never know it, but she had his heart and could never throw it away. It would belong to her forever.

Silently, having sorted out his thoughts, he went upstairs to her room, to talk to her and see if she was all right.

He opened her door and saw her lying on her bed, her robes messed up but sleeping peacefully. Gently, he covered her with a blanket.

He dropped a kiss on her forehead before leaving, closing the door quietly behind him.

*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*

The next morning, Harry woke up early for Quidditch Practice. Unbeknownst to him, someone observed him from her window. Hermione. She had made up her mind that she would apologize to Harry. She just hoped he would forgive her.

She had long thought about what she would tell him. He had obviously been most stunned the night before when she kissed him, albeit accidentally.

He was obviously pining away for some brainless girl who was just another fawning fan in the Potter fan club. He would never like her. Se was so ordinary, just Hermione Granger. The brains of the Dream Team, that was all. Why would Harry like her anyway?

She was just a Muggle-born.

She didn't understand why she had cried the night before. Actually she did. It was the moment of realization. The realization that Harry would never look at her in a different light. That he would never love her the way she loved him. She would forever be a chum. The Muggle-born friend to help during those world-saving, life-endangering excursions.

Sighing, she went downstairs to the Quidditch pitch. Harry saw her approaching a long way off. He could see a figure, approaching the team. He narrowed his eyes.

When she came near enough, he saw it was Hermione. "Hermione!" he yelled joyfully.

"Harry, watch out!" the voice of Colin Creevey, the Beater shouted out.

Harry turned around to see a Bludger approaching him. He ducked too late. There was a sickening thud as the Bludger hit him on the top of his head. He fainted, falling from his broom at an accelerating speed.

And he could only feel the darkness, swallowing him up in their mists.

*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*

Hermione had watched in horror as she heard a loud thud. Harry had fallen off his broomstick. She whipped out her wand and muttered a charm, so that he floated in mid-air.

One of the Chasers, Ginny Weasley, had sped after Harry's broom and got it back. She passed it to Hermione who at once levitated Harry all the way to the infirmary.

It was no easy task. To levitate a thing is easy enough, but Hermione had to avoid collision with everything. She didn't want Harry to get hurt after all. So she had to be extra careful.

Finally, she reached the infirmary. She deposited Harry neatly on one of the clean white beds as Madam Pomfrey hurried out of her office to check on her patient.

"What happened?" she demanded.

"He was hit by a Bludger," Hermione said, her voice shaky and her face pale.

"Don't worry, Miss Granger. I'll have him up and about in no time," she added kindly, her face softening, her hardened exterior disappearing at once.

She went into her office to get the potion to cure the poor unfortunate boy. Her thoughts turned towards her patient and Miss Granger. Every year, without fail, Mr Potter would arrive in the infirmary, without fail. And without fail, she would always be sitting beside him.

She wondered if the two of them were in love. They were so close, and could always be seen together. The girl had given him a kiss once, on the cheek back in fifth year, and he had blushed. She thought they would have confessed their feelings, but they were too stubborn.

She went out again, and carefully tipped the exact amount of the potion down his throat. He spluttered and woke up, his injuries were gone.

*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*

Hermione looked at him, when he awoke at last, and couldn't help but feel the colours rise in her cheeks. He's so handsome, she thought. But he will never be mine.

She sighed, looking wistful. Harry chuckled, and she jumped.

"What were you thinking about?" he asked, sitting up in the bed.

"Nothing, I was just..." She trailed off, feeling tears rise dangerously. Angrily, she swiped at the one tear that tumbled down her cheek.

But his hand was already on her cheek, touching her. "Hermione, are you all right?"

"No. Yes. I don't know!" she burst out. "How would YOU feel if the person you love doesn't love you back? If you've loved the person for the past few years and know that his heart would never be yours?" Horrified, she clamped a hand over her mouth.

Harry looked at her anxiously. Hermione handed him his broom wordlessly.

"Your broom, Harry. Ginny picked it up for you."

Without another word, she turned around and started to leave the infirmary, silent tears flowing down her cheeks.

"Hermione, wait."

She turned around, and walked closer to the bed. Harry stood up from the bed and stood beside her, holding her hands.

"Hermione, I must confess something," he said, looking extremely embarrassed.

She looked extremely uncomfortable. She was looking at the floor, suddenly finding the carpet covering the floor extremely interesting. Her face was crimson red and she was biting her lip.

Harry looked at her flushed face and gently stroked her cheek. She looked up, into his eyes. He was smiling at her.

"I think I'm in love with you, Hermione."

Hermione looked at him, her face unreadable, but a look of hope had flared up in her eyes. "What did you say, Harry?" she asked, trying to keep her voice shaking, but he could feel a little tremor.

"I think I'm in love with you, Hermione." He repeated. This time, he pulled her towards him and kissed her on the lips. Hermione smiled and her arms went around his neck, as their lips met again in another fiery kiss.

Years of passion poured into that kiss and they finally broke apart for air.

"You know, I love you too, Harry," she said.

"What were you thinking about just now?"

"Oh, that. I was just thinking that you would never love me because I was just a Muggle-born. I'm just Hermione Granger, your best friend."

"You're Hermione Granger, all right. But the rest is wrong. You're the prettiest girl and the smartest person. How can you be ordinary?" he asked, a smile tugging his lips.

She smiled, flinging her arms around him, whispering, "Thank you, Harry."

"Hermione?" he asked, when they had left the Hospital Wing.

"Yes?"

"Happy Valentine's Day, love."

"Oh, Harry. Happy Valentine's Day," she said, smiling at him before their lips met again.

*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*