Love's Labours

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Chapter Eight ~ Confused Feelings
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The passageways leading to the library seemed never-ending. On any previous excursion to the library, it seemed like only moments after she left the Common Room she would arrive in the musty old room. Yet, this time, the corridors seemed to stretch endlessly before her.

And the entire time, she couldn't shake him from her mind.

His hands on her; his mouth capturing hers. Rushed movements; one sided passion. Hermione brushed her fingertips against her sensitive lips, still feeling Ron's presence lingering there. Each time she pictured the kiss in her mind, she felt like she was about to retch.

But just what made her so ill at the thought of a shared kiss continued to baffle her. She had known Ron for the past seven years... a friendship that had had its share of ups and downs, but a friendship nonetheless. Next to Harry, Ron was the only one who knew everything about her. He was the only one she felt comfortable confiding in.

'Yet he doesn't know everything...'

No truer words were ever spoken. Ron didn't know everything about her. She didn't confide everything in him. There was still a bit of a barrier between herself and Ron, and one that would always remain in place.

'Not that Harry knows everything either.'

And the reason Harry didn't know everything was quite simple: she was afraid she'd lose one of her best friends in the process.

To be perfectly honest, Hermione wasn't sure when her attraction to Harry began. It must have been sometime during their fifth year. The exact date didn't stick out in her mind. It was a day like any other... but when she saw Harry that day, something inside her had snapped. She no longer saw him as the lanky eleven year old she had met on the Hogwarts Express. He had matured and filled out. No longer knobby-kneed; he possessed a lean and muscular body kept trim by all the hours of Quidditch practice.

It wasn't that the change had happened overnight. Hermione had been conscious of the change in his looks at the beginning of each year. How the summer months apart made him look all the older the next year. No, what snapped inside her was more of a wake up call for her mind. She finally saw him as something other than a best friend... possibly something more.

His face no longer carried a boyish look, but began to take on a shape of masculinity. A stronger jaw line was now a prominent feature on his face, making his emerald eyes stick out all the more. Harry's eyes... the kind a girl could get lost in.

'If only I had the opportunity to get lost in them...'

Hermione knew that Harry's heart still belonged to Cho. He had confided that much during one of their latest late-night chats. It had taken all of Hermione's self control to keep her emotions in check. After he had left the Common Room, Hermione had fled upstairs and cried herself to sleep. Harry's periodic updates on their relationship were always a source of pain for her. Still, she plastered a smile on her face and listened to him with feigned interest.

At every opportunity, Hermione would talk about Viktor and any news she received from him. It wasn't a vain attempt to make him jealous. No, it was to see if talking about Viktor would create any sort of reaction behind those eyes of his. She wanted to see a flicker of sadness or even jealousy if it was there, lurking beneath his handsome exterior. Just some bit of emotion that would show her that there were feelings for her hidden somewhere in the deep recesses of his mind.

And every time, she received the same happy reaction. His eyes, like the rest of his face smiled when his name was mentioned. Didn't he care?

'Little he knows... little he sees...'

At long last, Hermione found herself at her destination. She pulled the heavy door open and was greeted by the smell of ink and musty books. On any other day, it would have been a welcomed smell. She always enjoyed the solitude of her study time.

But today, the smell of the library and the smile from Madam Pince served as a painful reminder of how alone she really was. Studying was what was important. Without good grades and high marks on her OWLs and NEWTs, how was she expected to get a decent job in the Wizarding world?

'There are more important things than books, Mione,' her brain chided, 'So quit torturing yourself.'

Even seeing her undisturbed workspace in the back corner of the library was a second source of pain. Merlin... how much time did she really spend within the walls of the library?

'Too much... far too much...'

Hermione sat down at her table, her books and quills spread out before her. The chair to her right was slightly askew, causing Hermione to smile. It was Harry's chair.

The trio would often study within this secluded area. Generally their studying together was merely at the request of Hermione, but she didn't care. She was spending time with her two closest friends. And more importantly, she was spending time with Harry.

'And Hermione, what about Viktor?'

Hermione groaned inwardly. Just when she thought her life couldn't get any more complicated, someone decided to throw a bludger her way. And this was one she couldn't duck... it hit her head on.

The question of her relationship with Viktor was constantly in question. Between her studies and his hectic Quidditch schedule, they hardly ever spent any time together. And the fact that they were a few countries apart played a role in that as well. Hermione knew that Viktor's feelings for her ran deep, but for some reason, she couldn't reciprocate. There was always something between them.

Harry.

Yes, even though Viktor didn't know his name, Hermione knew he felt her distance as of late. She didn't write as much any more, trying to take space to know what she wanted... or who she wanted as the case may be. Yet, Hermione knew that Viktor suspected something. Even at the beginning of her relationship with him, he had spoken to Harry. Hermione never knew what words were exchanged between them. Looking back, Viktor probably knew her own heart even before she did.

In her last letter to him, Hermione had mentioned there would be a final Yule Ball to commemorate the Tri-Wizard Champion's seventh year at Hogwarts. In his eyes, Hermione could see the pain the tournament still caused Harry. He had never thought of himself as the champion. Cedric's death still was a heavy burden on his shoulders. And how many more deaths would Harry have to carry with him before Voldemort was finally defeated?

While she wanted to go to the ball with Harry, she knew he would never ask her. And, in light of her past conversation with Ron, she didn't want to go with him either. So, the only choice left was Viktor. Hermione pulled out a short piece of parchment and composed a letter to Viktor.

Not much time or effort was put into the letter since her heart wasn't in the words. But, it was necessary so the parchment quickly filled with her tidy scrawl. Setting the letter aside, Hermione reached into her pack and pulled out a small leather-bound book. Pressing the gold latch at the side, the book sprung open, laying flat before her. No one, not even Harry knew that she kept a diary.

She dipped the tip of the quill into the open inkwell and began to write furiously, stopping only when more ink was needed. The emotions of the past ten minutes finally came out in silent tears as the quill continued to scratch across the page, words blurred by the small droplets as they rolled down her cheeks. Hermione did nothing to stop them, she just kept writing.

***

The hallway passed in a blur. A thousand thoughts and emotions ran through Harry's mind as he walked through the corridors. Betrayal. Denial. Sadness. Anger. Each one had their momentary stay before moving on to the next emotion. Harry almost had a wild look about him, which was enough to keep a few first years from pestering him as they normally did.

He had lost. That was the one thought that stuck out in his head. In the end, nothing really mattered to him other than her. From one who had the love and admiration of the masses, he would never have the love of the one he desired above all else. It was that thought that pained him more than all. Just what God ordained that he was destined to be unhappy for the whole of his life?

'She was never mine to lose. Why regret what could never be?'

Harry quickened his pace, the large oak doors of the library within sight. Since Hermione and Ron were undoubtedly otherwise detained, Harry figured their back corner would be deserted. He just needed to be alone for a while to get all of his thoughts in order.

So, when he saw someone sitting at their back table, Harry was rather annoyed. First of all, he wanted to be alone, and the one place where he could was taken. Second, no one dared to use their back corner. It was an unspoken rule: the back table belongs to the Head Boy & Girl and Ron, don't use it. The girl looked up from her work and Harry nearly fell over.

"Hermione, what in the name of Merlin are you doing here?"

A panic passed over her face as she pushed the book she was reading off the desk and to the floor. Her hands flew up to her face as she wiped at her eyes in a futile attempt to look like nothing was wrong. But, as he neared her, Harry could see the look in her eyes. A look he'd never thought he'd see lurking there.

Sadness.

'Why would there be sadness behind her eyes?' Harry couldn't help but wonder, 'She's finally found the man who wants her... even if it is only lust. She was in Ron's arms and didn't look too upset either. Why would--'

"Harry, what are you doing here?" Hermione asked, pulling Harry from his thoughts. Despite the look on her face, her voice was surprisingly calm.

"I just needed a quiet place to think," Harry answered, avoiding her face. For if he looked at it, he'd be drawn into her eyes once again and the analysis would begin for the second time.

"I'm sure the common room --"

"No," Harry interrupted, "I figured people would be there."

'Like you two,' he added silently. 'Why aren't you there, Hermione? Why?'

"I just needed to be alone for a while," Harry finished, "To think things over." Harry paused briefly, her earlier comment finally sinking in. Well, not the comment itself, but her tone of voice. "I take it you don't want me here," Harry said softly, unable to hide the bitterness in his voice. "Then," Harry gave a short mock bow, "I leave you to your books, your grace."

"Harry, you bloody prat," Hermione said, rolling her eyes at him. "Sit down. Of course I want you here. You're my best friend."

'Best friend,' Harry thought with a sigh. 'That's all I'm ever going to be to her is a bloody best friend.'

Still, Harry took a seat next to her, not quite sure why. He cast a sideways glance at her, noticing yet again how stunning she was. The curl to her hair that she always complained about framed her face, bringing more attention to her eyes. She had grown taller over the years, but not quite reaching his height. Still, she was the perfect height if he were to wrap his arms around her waist and rest his chin on the top of her head.

Neither spoke for a while which was fine with both of them. A silence between them was never uncomfortable. Harry soon began to speak, not quite knowing why the words began to tumble from his mouth.

"Hermione, would a relationship between us ever work?" he asked, staring straight ahead.

His question caught her completely by surprise. Her heart rate quickened as she tried to swallow without looking too shocked at what he had said. Had he just asked her what she thought he did? No... it was impossible. They were best friends, no matter how much she wanted that relationship to change. No, it was impossible.

Yet, the sudden feel of Harry's hands on her face was not a figment of her imagination. His touch was soft and she suddenly felt as if she were flying.

Without even waiting for an answer from her, Harry placed his hands on her face, gently turning her head so that it was facing him. Some unknown force pushed them together and soon he found his lips lightly brushing against hers.

If I profane with my unworthiest hand
This holy shrine, the gentle fine is this:
My lips, two blushing pilgrims, ready stand
To smooth that rough touch with a tender kiss.
Then move not, while my prayer's effect I take.
Thus from my lips, by yours, my sin is purged.

Then have my lips the sin that they have took.

Sin from thy lips? O trespass sweetly urged!
Give me my sin again.

Why had he looked downward just after his lips fell across hers? Why, when for the first time in his life he had felt complete... loved? A thousand why's filled his head, but Harry couldn't find an answer for any of them. The simplest explanation was that he had, and nothing could change that fact.

Instantly Harry pulled away from her, blood pounding in his ears. Before she could say a word, he snatched the paper from the desk his eyes reading her tiny scrawl.

"Harry," Hermione began, her eyes wide with shock. "Please, it's not what you think it is." She knew in her heart that he wouldn't believe her, but it was worth a chance at least.

"Not what I think it is?" Harry spat, shaking the letter in his fist. "Then just what is it?"

"A letter to Viktor," she replied, her voice barely above a whisper. She kept her eyes down, for she knew that if she looked at him, the tears would begin.

"'Dear Viktor,'" Harry read aloud, "'I'm sorry it's been so long since my last letter, but things have been so hectic here at Hogwarts. And, I know with your busy schedule, you haven't had time to write either, and I do forgive you for that. When last we spoke, you were thinking of coming to our Yule Ball this year. The staff hadn't planned on having any sort of ball, but with the Tri-wizard Champion graduating, how could they not? I do hope that you'll be able to take time to come, for I miss you terribly. And now, back to studying. I await your next owl as I always do. Love, Hermione.'"

Harry threw the piece of parchment down on the table, his head spinning. "Tell me how that's not what I think it is."

Hermione sighed, burying her face in her hands. "I can't."

Harry turned away from her then, a swirl of emotions taking over. For once in his life, he was lost. The woman that was always his anchor was now allowing him to drift away. Harry suddenly felt like a ship without a sail, without a direction. Destined to float forever without anyone with him.

'She was never mine to lose.'

How could he have been so foolish? He knew she was still dating Viktor. He knew it in his mind, but his heart refused to believe it. Harry closed his eyes, willing the tears away. It couldn't look like that big of a disappointment.

Even though his heart was breaking.

"Harry," Hermione began, her hand lightly resting on his shoulder. He jumped at her touch for he hadn't heard her rise from her chair. Harry rested his hand on hers briefly, relishing in the feel of her touch. He committed it to memory for he knew he would never feel it again.

"Please," Harry replied, his voice barely a whisper, "I need to be alone."

Her hand left his shoulder and Harry nearly felt his heart break. Then again, how could it break when reading the letter already had caused it to burst into a million pieces?

Without another word, Harry strode from the library unsure of where his feet would take him.

***

Back in the library, Hermione picked up her quill, blinking back tears. What seemed like such a hard decision ten minutes ago now seemed so easy.

'It all began with a kiss...'

Hermione dipped the tip of the quill into her inkwell, her decision fresh in her mind. She knew what she had to do; she knew her heart's desires. For once, she wasn't going to screw this up. And so, with a shaking hand, she added a post script.

PS. I do hate to write this in a post script, but it's all I can think of. I'm sorry to make you read through all that, only to come to this. I think it's over between us and I think we've both known it for a long time. I did love you once, but things change. All I can say is that I'm sorry.
~ Hermione ~