Harry

Three months. The war had finally ended three months ago, leaving a mixture of chaos, despair and pure joy to be alive in its wake. Three months ago Hermione Granger and Ron Weasley finally became an item. Two months ago, sixteen days and five hours. Two months, sixteen days and five hours ago Hermione realized how unhappy she was.

Hermione sat on a wooden bench by the lake near the flat she shared with her boyfriend and their mutual best friend. She stared blankly ahead, her mind millions of miles away. Just over two months ago, while wide awake in bed next to a nude Ron, she'd realized she wasn't the least bit happy with the snoring man.

It wasn't for lack of trying – she tried her hardest to love Ron and be happy, and he tried hard to be a good boyfriend. They barely ever fought anymore, he took extra care to mind his manners in consideration of her, and he did all sorts of things all the time that he thought would bring her pleasure – both in and out of the bedroom. Perhaps the worst part was that he did it all by his own validation, not because he knew of her struggle, because he didn't, but because he loved her. But try as she might, she just could never get that passion he so easily felt to spark. Thinking back, she couldn't even remember if it was there at their first kiss… or date…or night together.

Silently, she pulled her feet up to the bench, wrapped her hands around her legs and rested her chin upon her knees. Even though she was certain that the branches of the weeping willow behind the bench hid her from view, she fought to clear her mind of its torturous thoughts and wipe her face clear of anything that might give away her inner turmoil. Slowly she transformed back into the blank girl she'd become, ready to artfully paste whatever expression needed on.

Harry stood leaning against a tree several yards behind Hermione's hiding spot, straining his eyes to see her hidden figure. For months Hermione'd been running off and acting weird. Ron, of course, hadn't noticed being too caught up in a case of the lovey-dovies, but he had. It took some work but a few weeks ago he'd finally managed to trail Hermione here, something that normally would have been impossible if something weren't seriously wrong. Ever since then, he'd come secretly to watch over her, feeling as though there were a hole in his stomach as her witnessed her pain.

He knew she thought he was so caught up in the bliss of his finally official, open relationship with Ginny that she could pull one over on him. After all, her own boyfriend was too blissful to notice the subtle change in their best friend. But never in a million years could he be happy knowing that she wasn't.

Once again he felt frustration at the situation rise until finally he'd had enough. He was sick of Hermione always having to make the ultimate sacrifice. Sure, everyone thought of Harry as 'The Chosen One', Harry as the poor soul that had to bare their salvation. They never listened when he told them that he never would have made it without his two best friends. Not only did everyone know Ron's part- muscle and loyalty (mostly), they embellished it… hailed it even. But no one realized how lost they'd all be without Hermione. How she'd sacrificed everything, her family, happiness, a huge part of her life… she'd even endured torture from them! She'd spent her whole time at Hogwarts and during the war as the unsung hero, always putting herself last. She was recognized, but not given a fraction of the credit she deserved. And now, Harry has reached his limit.

Silently he stalked up to Hermione's hiding spot and sat sideways on the opposite side of the bench, facing her with his back against the arm, the leg closest to the bench bent with his foot resting flat against the seat with his elbow resting across his knee. Hermione jumped and gasped, but he couldn't find it in him to feel bad for scaring her. Instead he just fixed her with a hard stare.

"Harry… what're you doing here?" She half shouted. "I mean, I thought you were going out with Ginny today." She quickly amended in attempt to hide how his sudden appearance affected her. Unfortunately, Harry wasn't fooled – though he didn't let he know that. He wanted to give her one last chance and hopefully surprising her at her hiding spot would do the job.

"Nope," he said simply, choosing to keep his lie simple. In reality, he'd lied to Ginny to cancel their plans so he could follow Hermione. There was a tense silence as Harry watched Hermione's face while she carefully avoided eye contact, staring straight ahead. "I'm fucking sick of this 'Mione!" He suddenly shouted, scaring a few near-by geese into flight. His hard, angry tone contradicted his use of her, then occasional, nickname. She positively levitated with a squeak of surprise. Quickly she turned to look at him, lips parted and eyes dilated fearfully.

"Wha… what?" She stuttered, her voice small. Once again, Harry couldn't bring himself to feel anything but burning anger and frustration.

"I'm fed up with this! With you… hiding from me, like I can't see what's in front of me, or like I don't' care. Is that what it is? Do you think I don't care? Or do you just not trust me?" Harry managed to control his voice to barely below a yell, his eyes hard behind his frames as he hurdled accusation after accusation, trying to express everything he felt at once.

"Don't be ridiculous – I trust you with my life and you know it!" Hermione snapped, so affronted with his accusation that her fear was forgotten.

"Your life sure," harry responded quickly. "But what… I haven't proved my trust in anything else?" His voice was down to a dull roar now and Hermione could now see hurt and pain hidden in his hard gaze. She stared at him with wide eyes, her mouth agape in confusion. Harry rubbed his head wishing he were a more eloquent speaker. "It's easy to trust someone with your life. You live or you don't. But I thought that after all this time… everything we've been through… but you still can't do it. Don't you think I care? I trust you with my life, my happiness and thoughts and dreams and fears and hopes… I trust you with my everything." Harry couldn't stop. The dam had opened and everything that'd been building up the past few weeks was flooding out all at once. He'd stopped yelling, his voice now soft and toneless; she would have preferred he continued to scream at her. She hated to hear him sound so defeated. She was becoming increasingly confused and hurt as she listened intently to him, knowing that if he was opening up and talking this much it was important. But she couldn't understand why he was so worked up. All she knew was she had somehow managed to hurt and, apparently, betray him and that alone was enough to make her want to curl up and die.

"I've always trusted you with my everything… I just wish you felt you could do the same with me," Harry's voice dropped to barely above a lost sounding whisper as his sad eyes turned almost pleadingly to Hermione's "I've been waiting for a month and a half for you to come to me… to at least try and talk to me. After a while I started hoping maybe you'd try and talk to someone else. Anyone else. Instead all you've done is fight to hide how unhappy you are. I'm sick and tired Hermione, sick and tired of you always being the unsung hero, always sacrificing everything for everyone else. Ron may be my best friend but so are you. You deserve to better." Harry struggled to keep his voice steady. Now he was the one avoiding eye contact. Until he heard sniffling. He looked up, scared he'd gone too far, to see tears streaming down Hermione's face, her whole body shaking.

"I'm… I'm sorry Harry," she barely managed to whisper. She felt physically ill realizing what she'd put him through. Harry reached out to pull her to his chest, wanting to finally make everything better. She tensed momentarily, unused to the luxury of comforting touch, before leaning against him, curled on her side. "I tried Harry. I just… I wish I could love him."

Harry tightened his hold on her shaking form protectively and buried his nose in her hair. He was hit with a flash of anger that Hermione seemed the most upset that she couldn't get her relationship to work. He arm his hand up and down the arm not trapped against his chest and her processed her apology. It wasn't hard to figure out. Everyone had expected her and Ron to live happily-ever-after. It wasn't surprising she felt she'd failed – not just in the relationship but in letting everyone down. He lifted his leg on the ground and curled it around the outside of her folded legs. He straightened his other leg and let it fall over the top of their legs. He hugged her impossibly tighter as he effectively surrounded her body.

A month and a half. A month and a half Harry watched and waited from the sidelines, the strain of helplessly watching his best friend's pain slowly but surely torturing him. Just thinking about it made it feel like there was a hole in his stomach and a lump in his throat. More than once he thought he was going to be ill because of it all. Forty-five minutes. It'd taken forty-five minutes for Harry to finally make her understand. Thirty seconds. Within the thirty seconds he held her in his arms, Harry realized that the kind of trust he expected from her wasn't something she'd readily give. As the unsung hero, it was natural for her to not extend it. She was too busy doing anything and everything for everyone else. Too busy earning the all-encompassing trust of everyone else, and bending over backwards, enduring whatever it took to keep earning and holding that trust while trying to play the guardian angel and fairy godmother all rolled into one.

Right now. Right here, in this moment, at this exact time Harry decides he's just going to have to work hard and little-by-little 'steal' her trust. He refuses to let her be the unsung hero another moment, even if it means singing her every praise from every roof top. In a moment of humor induced by the emotional release of their talk, he finds himself grinning at the image of follow her around from roof to roof singing about her.

He feels comfort in the thought that it's now Hermione's turn to have someone do anything and everything for her. She deserves her own guardian angel and fairy godmother in one. And that's exactly what Harry plans to become. She undoubtedly will fight him at first, and resist all of his attempts to help. But that won't stop him. A particularly mischievous smile graces his lips as she snuggles closer to him. A plan was beginning to form to force her to allow him to help, and it involved a pink tutu, costume wings, a fake hallo and a wand charmed to be pink with a glowing heart at the tip.

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