Come Back to Me

"That's no orangutan! That's my sister!" Scattered laughter could be heard in response to Seamus's joke among the din of other conversations in the crowded party room of the Three Broomsticks. There was an impressive turnout for Harry's going-away party. The entire Weasley family was present, along with all of Harry's friends from his years at Hogwarts, and most of the members of the Order. Hagrid was there as well, and even Professors McGonagall and Dumbledore stopped by for a few minutes to enjoy the festivities. Hermione was sitting between Harry and Ron at one of the two large, round tables that had been set up, eating dinner.

Hermione tried her best to put on a brave face and appear that she was having a good time. As long as she didn't think of the fact that this could be the last time she'll ever see Harry, she was able to enjoy herself. To her (and everyone else's) surprise, Harry seemed to be enjoying himself as well. He wasn't his usual morose self. It reminded Hermione of their early years at Hogwarts, when everyone was so much more carefree.

Hermione hadn't left Harry's side the entire night. She wanted to spend as much time with him as she could before he left. She'd also been battling with herself all night whether or not she should drop the bomb and tell Harry that she loved him. On one hand, she wanted him to know how she felt in case she never got the chance to tell him again. On the other hand, she was experiencing the most common fear in the world: rejection. What if he didn't feel the same way? She couldn't let him leave on an awkward note like that. She figured if the time was right she would tell him, but as of yet, they hadn't had any time alone, and Hermione wasn't about to confess her love to Harry in front of so many people.

The trio was fondly reminiscing about Hogwarts when Mr. Weasley stood and raised his glass.

"I'd like to propose a toast," he began, and the room grew silent. "You can probably all guess who it is that I'm toasting, but I'm going to tell you about him anyway." He looked right at Harry and smiled. Harry's face turned a light shade of red with all the attention he was getting, but Mr. Weasley continued anyway. "When I met Harry a few years ago, I remember being fascinated about all of the Muggle contraptions that he'd grown up using, and asked him all about them. He seemed like a nice boy, and I thought he would be a great friend for Ron. I eventually learned of the responsibility that rested on this young man's shoulders; that he would one day have to defeat the Dark Lord," some people whispered to each other, but then got quiet again. "Harry, over these past eight years, you've become a part of our family. You're like a seventh son to me." Hermione looked over at Harry at this point to see him smiling appreciatively and to see Ron lean over and whisper to him, "You really are, mate. He talks about you all the time. It gets rather annoying actually." Harry chuckled and returned his gaze to Mr. Weasley. "Little did I know all those years ago, that when it came time for you to go off and finally defeat V-Voldemort, I would be worried about you as if you were one of my own." Mr. Weasley's voice broke slightly, and he quickly swiped his eye with his hand. Hermione looked at Harry again and saw him trying to fight off his own tears. It warmed her heart to see such an outpouring of emotion from both Mr. Weasley and Harry. "But, Harry, I want you to know," he continued, "that I have no doubt at all in your abilities as a wizard. None of us do. We have total confidence in you, and we know that you will make a hero out of yourself for, what, the hundredth time?" Everyone laughed as he referred to Harry's almost yearly battles with Voldemort and the Death Eaters. "So, I encourage everyone to raise their glass in honor of Harry Potter: the boy who lived and the man who will save us all...again." Everyone raised their glass in response and shouted, "To Harry!" Harry's face turned an even deeper shade of red, but Hermione knew by the smile on his face and the mistiness of his eyes that he was genuinely touched.

"All right then," Mr. Weasley continued, "Now that we're all through with that, back to the party!" The music started up again as everyone got up from their seats to either dance or continue their previous conversations. Harry stood and was suddenly surrounded by people patting him on the back and shaking his hand.

"I'm going to go get another Butterbeer. Do either of you want anything?" Ron asked Harry and Hermione when they were finally alone again.

"No thanks," Harry replied, Hermione shook her head no, and Ron walked over to the bar.

"Some party, isn't it?" Harry asked Hermione looking around at all of the people in attendance.

"Yeah, must make you feel good, seeing all these people here for you," Hermione responded looking up at Harry. He smiled sheepishly in return and answered, "Yeah." They both stood in silence for a moment, just taking in everything. Their relationship hadn't changed much since they were at Hogwarts; it had only grown. They talked to each other about everything, including Harry's relationship with Cho Chang. They'd dated on and off over the past five years, but recently decided to break it off for good. Hermione had never particularly cared for Cho, but she tried to get along with her for Harry's sake, which wasn't always easy. It was obvious that Cho was jealous of Hermione and her relationship with Harry, which was why Harry and Cho constantly broke up. Cho usually became overcome with jealousy and broke it off. Harry would then assure Cho that there was nothing to be jealous of, and they would end up getting back together. Hermione grew to know the whole routine very well. Initially, Hermione didn't understand why Cho was so jealous of her. After all, she and Harry were just friends. But as time went on, Hermione started to realize that she did have feelings for Harry that were more than platonic. She started to get her hopes up each time Cho and Harry broke up, thinking maybe, just maybe, Harry did feel the same way she did. During one of the periods when Harry was single, Hermione tried to drop what she thought were obvious hints that she liked him as more than a friend. When she hugged him, she'd hold on a little longer. When he said something that was funny, she'd laugh and lightly touch his arm. When she wished him luck before a quidditch match and kissed him on the cheek, she'd linger for a little longer. She thought her hints were working, but then Harry, being the totally oblivious guy that he was, went and told Cho that Hermione was like a sister to him and that there was nothing going on between them, and they got back together. Hermione eventually gave up trying to get Harry to notice her, and tried to set her sights on other guys who might not be as clueless. She dated a few guys and thought that she'd finally gotten over Harry. But when Harry told Hermione that he and Cho decided to call it quits for good a few weeks ago, it seemed like a floodgate opened and all of her feelings for him came rushing back.

Now, as Hermione stood next to Harry, she could feel her face grow warmer when she realized how close they were. She shifted her weight slightly, and her arm brushed up against his. She willed her face not to get any redder. It was suddenly extremely hot in her forest green sweater and gray corduroys. Why was this happening again? This was just Harry. Hermione knew the answer to that question, whether she wanted to or not. It wasn't "just Harry" anymore. She'd fallen in love with her best friend, again. "You need to tell him," the voice in Hermione's head commanded. Hermione figured now was as good a time as any. She took a deep breath, turned to look at him, and opened her mouth to say something, but nothing came out. Merlin, was he gorgeous. All she could do was stare at his intense green eyes as they surveyed the room. And that hair...That dark, unruly hair. All she wanted to do was run her hand through it. But how weird would that be to just start running her fingers through his hair? He'd probably think she was mental or something. Just then he turned and said, "Hermione, do you want to-" He stopped mid-sentence when he saw her look away as soon as he looked at her, her face an unseemly shade of red. Busted, she thought.

"What?" he asked, laughing at the sight of her embarrassment.

"Nothing," she replied, trying to gracefully recover and failing miserably. She'd been caught red-handed. "Nothing at all...I was just...nothing."

Harry laughed, looking at her somewhat suspiciously, "Uh...ok."

"Yeah," Hermione said, chuckling lightly in spite of herself. "So, what were you saying?" she added, hoping to change the subject.

"I was going to ask you if you wanted to get some fresh air. You know, go for a walk or something?" he answered. Harry never did like it when people made a big deal out of him. Hermione had no doubt that Harry appreciated what everyone was doing for him, but sometimes he just needed to get away.

"Sure," Hermione replied, eager to put this little incident behind them.

"Great. Let's go." Hermione followed Harry out the door and into the crisp, autumn night. They started walking slowly down the cobblestone street. It was nearly dark, and one by one the lampposts were illuminated. They walked in silence for a little while. If Hermione wanted to tell Harry how she felt, now would be the perfect time to do it. But she couldn't just start off by saying "Harry, I love you." She had to start off slowly. After a few more minutes of silence, Hermione spoke.

"So how are you, Harry?" Hermione asked gently.

"I'm just dandy, Hermione. And how are you?" he answered her, smiling teasingly.

"No," Hermione laughed. He was such a geek sometimes. "How are you really?" she asked more seriously. She knew he couldn't possibly be "just dandy" when he was going off to fight the most powerful wizard in the world in mere hours.

"I'm fine, actually," he replied honestly, sounding somewhat surprised at his own answer.

"You're not nervous or scared or anything? You're just fine?" she asked incredulously.

"Believe it or not, I'm just fine. Why should I be nervous? I would've thought that everyone would be glad that I'm not." They had come to the front of the Three Broomsticks again and sat on a bench outside the door.

Hermione knew he wasn't telling the truth; she could see it in his eyes (which, much to her chagrin, she couldn't stop staring at). They were still the same amazing emerald green, but they were clouded with worry. Harry should know by now that he couldn't hide anything from Hermione. No matter how honestly he thought he answered her, she knew he wasn't telling the truth. He was being his usual stubborn self and refusing to let anyone see that he really was scared. "Come on, Harry," Hermione said gently, "You can tell me." She didn't want to pester him and make him talk if he didn't want to, but Hermione just didn't understand why he wouldn't just admit that he was scared. She just wanted him to open up to her like he used to.

"That's the thing, Hermione. There's nothing to tell. I know I can do this," he insisted, but Hermione knew that he was trying harder to convince himself than to convince her. "Why can't you see that I'm fine and just support me?"

"That's not fair," Hermione replied sternly. She wasn't sure why but tears were forming in her eyes. "You know how supportive I am of you. That has nothing to do with this."

He stopped for a second. "You're right. I know," he surrendered, shaking his head. "It's just that I don't want everyone to be making a big deal out of this."

"But, Harry, it is a big deal! This is Voldemort we're talking about. Not some meaningless case for the Ministry," Hermione said, instantly regretting it, because her voice broke and a tear escaped and slid down her cheek. She was determined to make sure that Harry didn't see her cry. That was the last thing he needed right now. She quickly brushed the tear away and took a deep breath, willing the other tears to disappear. But it was too late, Harry had already seen it.

"Aw, Mione, please don't cry," Harry said, his voice softened as he used his nickname for her. He certainly wasn't making this any easier.

"I'm not," she said as she looked away and wiped her eyes. "I'm fine."

"No you're not," he said, and he wrapped his strong arms around her as she started sobbing, soaking the front of his navy blue turtleneck. "Everything's going to be all right," he whispered soothingly, rubbing her back. This wasn't right. Harry wasn't supposed to be the one doing the comforting and saying that it was going to be all right. Hermione was. She was furious with herself. But she couldn't help melting in his strong, warm embrace. Why was he doing this to her? Why did he have to go and be so perfect?

"I'm sorry," Hermione sniffled, as she forced herself to calm down

"Don't be," Harry said. He moved his arm, and Hermione was almost positive he was wiping his eyes. She could've stayed in his arms forever, but she knew she had to regain some sense of dignity. Her job was to be the comforter, not the comforted. She pulled back and looked into his beautiful eyes.

"It's not that I don't think you can do this. I have no doubt you will. It's just...I don't know..."

"I know," Harry said with a smile. Hermione smiled too, because she knew that he did know what she was trying to say. That's just the way Harry was. Perfect. It's now or never, she thought. She said, "I don't know how to tell you this." Harry looked at her with question in his eyes.

"Tell me what?" he asked with a smile, obviously having no clue what was coming next.

No going back now, she thought to herself. Before she could change her mind she blurted out, "Harry, I lo-"

"There you guys are." Harry and Hermione both quickly turned their heads to see Ron coming around the corner. Damn you, Ron, you and your bad timing, Hermione wanted to scream. "I've been looking everywhere for you. They're about to cut the cake."

"We just went for a walk," Harry answered, not knowing that Ron had ruined one of the most important moments of Hermione's life. "We'll be right in."

"All right," Ron said, eyeing to two wrapped around each other on the bench suspiciously. "But hurry up," he said, then walked back into the Three Broomsticks. Hermione couldn't say anything. She just couldn't believe that had happened. It was like a scene from one of those trashy romance novels Parvati and Lavender had talked her into reading once; the usual best-friend-ruins-moment-when-other-best-friend-was-about-to-confess-love-to-third-best-friend. Hermione just couldn't believe it.

"I didn't realize we were gone so long that they needed to send out a search party," Harry said lightly. Hermione just smile halfheartedly in return. "So what were you saying, Mione?"

Oh, I was just going to confess my undying love for you, Hermione wanted to say, but she couldn't do it now. It was too late. She'd missed her shot. "Nothing," she replied softly. She couldn't believe how devastated she felt. She was so ready to do this, and then nothing.

"Are you sure?" Harry asked, furrowing his brow doubtfully.

"Yeah," she responded with as genuine a smile as she could muster.

"Okay," Harry said reluctantly. "Well, I guess we should head back in?"

"Sure." One word answers were all Hermione could handle. They got up and returned to the party.