Anything for You, Mate

"Anything for You, Mate"

It had been a sweet, sweet dream. A smile lit up Harry's pale, somewhat tragically beautiful face, as he thought back to his dreams of holding and loving Hermione. A part of him felt ashamed at his desire to turn their friendship into something more. They had been friends for years, held each other through some of the worst times of their lives. Hermione had always put him first, and done everything she could to be the best possible friend.

When times were very dark, and Harry's anger and guilt had dangled him towards shadows, Hermione had made him see the light. As clichéd as it sounded, she had been his touchstone. Helping, guiding him, without ever seeming to judge.

With his face in his hands, Harry sighed aloud, cursing himself for his cowardice. Part of him wanted so badly to tell her just how he felt. How every minute of every day, he breathed her, loving her, with a passion that shook him to his very core.

But, God! What if he scared her away? He could see it now- her face, trembling; tears filling her eyes as she stumbled an awkward apology. It was just too much to risk. Harry stood up and walked over towards the fire. As the flames crackled and spat, Harry's thoughts turned to Sirius. Even now, he could picture vividly Sirius's wasted, yet handsome face, smiling wickedly at him from the fire. Sirius had risked everything and anything for Harry's sake. That night three years ago, at the Shrieking Shack, where Sirius had risked his very life just to let Harry know the truth. He spent the next two years in hiding, rashly dancing around the ministry. Just to see Harry, to know that he was loved.

A single tear ran down his cheek. Sirius had never had the chance to care for Harry the way he wanted to, but he had taught him a valuable lesson.

Anything is worth the risk, if it is for someone you love.

Hermione. Hermione is worth any risk.

Harry smiled weakly, and he stood a little taller. His mind made up, he paced the floor. Words ran through his mind, phrases forming, emotions overpowering him. He felt his whole body tensed with anxiety. Running his hand frantically though his messy, raven hair; a nervous a laugh escaped him.

He turned towards the door, intent upon finding her. However, before he reached the door, Ron climbed through the portrait hole. He was shockingly pale, and every freckle on his face stuck out like a pebble on a beach. Ron looked tired and drawn, and he sunk down miserably into a chair.

Harry sat down beside him, worried.

"Ron? Are you okay?"

Ron shrugged, somewhat melancholically, and laughed weakly. His hands fidgeted nervously, and there was a definite touch of despair to his expression.

"I just...no. Nothing. Forget I said anything," he muttered into the air.

Harry grinned. Ron, bless him, was never adept at hiding his feelings.

"Oh, come on, mate. You look as if the Chudley Cannons had lost every match this season. Something's up, and if you don't share, I'll get Hermione to drag it out of you."

Ron's eyes widened in shock. Visible panic showed on every inch of his face.

"NO! NO! This has nothing to do with her. She's fine where she is. And I'm fine over here. Everything is good. Aren't you good?"

He said all this is one loud, frantic breath.

"Come on, Ron. There's no kidding me, and you know it. What have you done to Hermione that's got you looking so freaked? Spilled ink on her exam notes? You're not in love with Crookshanks, are you?" Harry teased.

Ron turned a painful looking shade of crimson.

"No," he stuttered, "I'm in love with Hermione." He stared forlornly at his shoes.

Harry tried unsuccessfully to hide a gasp.

Oh, no. Please not this. Not tonight.

"I know it'll come to nothing. She's too good for someone like me. Smarter, better looking.. she's got it all. I don't deserve her." Ron swallowed and rubbed his forehead.

"That's crap and you know it. Ron, you're smart, loyal and brave. Any girl, and I mean any girl, would be lucky to have you." Harry croaked.

Yes, any girl. Why does it have to be this one??

Ron stared doubtfully at Harry. "Do.. do you think I might.. have a chance with her?"

Harry's heart sunk heavily into the bottom of his chest. He was torn savagely between the girl he loved most in the world, and his best friend. Ron had been the only person he could truly trust, who cared for him, and stood by him throughout the whole bloody mess that was his life. Ron was the best thing he had. He deserved the best. And Hermione was the best.

He heard his voice come out all shaky and unsteady.

"Of course, Ron. I meant what I said, you know. Don't give up till you hear what she has to say. You should ask her how she feels."

Ron sat up a little straighter.

"Yeah. Okay. I'll do it. But what if she laughs at me?"

"You know she won't."

Ron noticeably brightened. "Yeah, I guess. It is Hermione, after all. I should go do it."

"Yes, you should. Go quickly, before you lose your nerve," Harry urged, in an attempt at helpfulness.

Ron stood up, decisively. He grabbed Harry in a bear hug.

Harry returned it, feeling his eyes fill with tears.

Oh, God. Hermione. I love you.

"Thanks, Harry. You're the best."

Harry smiled weakly.

"Anything for you, mate."