Harry sat alone outside their tent, watching the beautiful orange, red, and pink sunset, thinking of the enormous task that Dumbledore had laid before them and how they, two very frightened children, were to accomplish a task that not even a fully-grown wizard could manage. Dumbledore had told them everything he knew, and they were very advanced in the magical arts for their age, thanks to the DA. Still, the fact remained, they were only teenagers, whose faith was cut in half as they realized they were very small in a very big and dangerous world that was filled to the brim with chaos. And the truth was, Harry was in serious doubt. His best mate of six, almost seven years had walked out on him, after all. The only reason he didn't give up on this impossible mission himself was sitting on her bed, crying her eyes out, but still remaining: Hermione.

She was his best friend. He hated seeing her in the state she was in, and knowing it was his own fault made it ten times worse. When Ron disapparated on that stormy night, he even tried to comfort her? No, he had proved he was the world's biggest prat and thrown some blankets on her and left. Harry regretted this terribly, knowing that she would have lost a whole nights' sleep assuring him that it wasn't his fault, and he had never felt so guilty in his life.

Well, that was a complete lie. He thought, now that he had really pondered on it for more than a moment. Yet, as far back as he thought, the time at which he had felt the worst he had ever felt in his life had undoubtedly been in the Department of Mysteries two years ago. Hermione had gotten cursed, and he, Harry, had thought she was dead for a moment. And that moment, before Neville had noticed that there was still a pulse beating in her exposed neck, Harry had never, in his whole life, felt worse. Yes, he had fallen in love with his best friend, Hermione Granger.

In his first year, when Harry was about to enter the room beyond the black fire, that would, though he didn't know it, lead him to his first encounter with Voldemort since he had been off diapers, when she had hugged him, was, even though she didn't know it, one of the most important and best moments in his life. She had been the first one to love him, the first one that didn't wince at the sight of him, the first one to show him that they cared about him; as far back as he could remember. Though Harry was quite sure that she had decided in midsentence not to finish, decided not to say that last word: love. But, all the same, it was then that he had fallen in love with her.

No one knew, just him, and he preferred to keep it that way. Truth be told, he had never really liked Cho, it was just an act that he was foolish enough to believe would make him stop having feelings for Hermione (and perhaps having less mind-wanderings of himself dragging her into a broom closet and snogging her senseless), but it hadn't worked. And Ginny, he wished it wasn't true, because he loved her, but not in the way that she loved him, was nothing but a plot to rid his mind of Hermione as well. He had known since fourth year that Ron had developed feelings for Hermione, and vice versa, but he regretted now more than ever not plucking up the courage and asking her to the ball before Krum had, thinking things might have been different.

Right now all Harry really wanted to do was walk straight into that tent, prod Hermione awake and tell her how he really felt and see what would happen. But, Ron meant to much to him, and he cared more about Hermione's happiness than his own and he knew she could never be happy with him, and he knew he needed to let her go, but he just couldn't bring himself to do it. Drowning in self-pity and utter and forbidden love with his best friend, Harry jumped when there was a static-crunching sound coming from the tent now.

"Poor Jim's as white as a ghost,
He's found the answer that we've lost,
We're all weeping now,
Weeping because,
There ain't nothing we can do,
To protect you..."

The man sang. Harry found himself inside the tent, not knowing how he got there.

"Children!
Lift up your voice!
Rejoice!
Hey little train we're jumpin' on!
The train that goes to the kingdom,
We're happy, ma, we're having fun,
Beyond our wildest expectations!"

On he went. No thoughts really crossing his mind, feet telling him what to do rather than himself, Harry walked over to Hermione and held out his hand. She sighed, which made him feel awkward, but she stood and took it. It felt as though boiling hot tea had just trickled down his back as she made contact with his skin, but it was pleasant boiling tea at that. Before he knew what he was doing, or he could even try to resist, his hands were around her neck, unhooking the dreadful locket. Brushing her cheek upon removing his hand, he threw the horcrux on the bed and took both her hands in his as he lead her out to the middle of the tent. The lyrics seemed to be singing Harry's heart.

"I once was blind but now I see!"

He had never really noticed how incredibly beautiful Hermione was, he'd never thought she was ugly, but he hadn't given her the credit she deserved. Even dressed in a plain T-shirt and jeans, eyes red and puffy from crying, she was gorgeous. Hey, hey, hey. Wait right there, buddy! his mind said, Park the car, hold your horses! She's RON'S! Get the picture? No, the other half of his brain retorted, he left, if he really cared about her, he'd never leave. Ron was definitely missing out, the nasty part of his mind that had produced the broom cupboard scene whispered as he twirled her in his arms.

She'd become considerably lighter and as Harry whirled her around, the smile she was trying to conceal finally broke free and she laughed, feeling happy for the first time in weeks. It was then Harry had to fight his hardest not to kiss her, when she smiled; it was just so nice to see her smile. He had accomplished his goal: to cheer her up, and it felt good.

"Have you left a seat for me,
Is that such a stretch of imagination?"

The song was coming to a close and becoming increasing slower, as was their dance. He almost couldn't contain himself when she placed her head softly on his shoulder. The last note chimed from the radio and static appeared once more. Both of them pulled away from each other and their cheeks touched as they backed away. Harry didn't know what he was thinking, all sense and reasoning had gone to Florida on retirement as he leaned forward, and maybe it was his imagination, or she leaning in too. Their lips met. Even though they had barely made contact, it felt as though a catastrophic bang had gone off in Harry's head. While he sat in shock, his mouth did the work for him, as it seemed to be disattatched from the rest on his body and having a mind of its own.

It wasn't anything too cheesy, they weren't making out, but their lips remained glued together in their kiss for quite some time before they broke apart. Harry's expression was unreadable, though on the inside he wanted to do a jig, (or kiss her again) but it quickly turned to hurt, as Hermione stared at him with horror, muttering "No...no...," while shaking her head vigorously as though to tell herself that she was imagining things. Wounded and despondent, Harry ran from the tent, choking back tears. How could it have gone so wrong?

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They had been more distant than they had ever been, it was as though they didn't know each other, it was killing him. For the past fortnight he had been going without sleep, sitting at her bedside, contenting himself by stroking her cheek as gently as he could, just to get close to her. He would've died that night at Godric's Hallow from that snake-bite just to have her love him or at least be friendly with him again. He was outside keeping watch, filling in her shift, as he did almost always nowadays, insisting that she needed sleep, when he noticed a silver doe. Not knowing how to react, his immediate thought to wake Hermione subsided. Harry ran inside the tent and kissed her lightly on the cheek, trying not to wake her, before making up his mind and sprinting back outside to follow the doe.

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"I love her like a sister and I always have," Harry said to assure his friend, though the thought of Hermione made him want to cry.
"That's the problem, mate!" Ron said exasperatedly. "Wait, you don't think I FANCY Hermione, do you?" he added with a look of pure disgust.
"You DON'T? I saw the thing-"
"WHAT? NO! Ewwwww! I was just scared that you two wouldn't have time for me anymore. HERMIONE? You'd have to be BARKING!"
"Well..." Harry murmured as he blushed crimson.
"Oh, Bloody HELL, Harry, do you need my PERMISSION? GO FOR IT!" Ron screamed.
"I can't!" Harry protested.
"Why not?"
"Because something happened while you were gone,"
"What?" Ron demanded.
"Well...we, erm,"
"Go on! Spit it out!"
"Well...we kissed,"
At that, Ron burst out laughing. After a good five minutes, he could talk again, and he asked "And what the bloody HELL is wrong with THAT? I've been waiting for you to say those words for YEARS!"
"Because, Ron!" Harry began. "She looked like she wanted to give me a good-"
"Snog?" Ron managed to suggest before he fell into another fit of giggles.
"No, I wish, I was GOING to say kick, but, I like your idea better, if only..."
"Then TALK TO HER!" Ron said, entirely serious now.
"It's not THAT simple!" Harry said truthfully, wishing it was.
"Whatever," Ron finished as they neared the tent.

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"Hermione?" Ron asked tentatively, knowing after six years of friendship that it wasn't a good idea to cross her when she was in one of her moods.
"Yeah?" she asked, sitting up on her bed.
"Harry-" Ron began, but he was interrupted by a groan from Hermione.
"I don't want to talk about him, Ronald." she said coldly.
"Well, he seems kinda hurt"- 'kinda hurt' was the biggest understatement Ron had ever heard-"and you two aren't on speaking terms, so one can only assume..."
"Not interested."
"Look, Hermione-"
"Did he-"
"Something MUST'VE happened, it's obvious!"
"It's not you're prob-"
"HE TOLD ME YOU KISSED AND THEN YOU STARED DAGGERS AT HIM!"
"It's NONE OF YOUR BUSINESS WHETHER WE KISSED OR NOT!"
"He LOVES you, and you hurt him!"
"He does NOT!"
"Hermione, you should've seen him. I've NEVER seen him so upset!"
"ME? What did I do? He's USING me to get over GINNY!"
"GINNY? He broke up with her ages ago!"
"Oh? Three and a half months is ages, is it?"
"That's beside the point, Hermione!"
"No, it's really NOT!" and at that, she burst into tears.
"So let me get this straight," Ron began, relentless, "You looked at him like that because you thought he was using you?" She nodded with a racking sob, "Oh, Hermes! Are you MAD?" he continued, sinking to the floor and putting his arm around her shoulder. "He told me, word for word that he's over Ginny, and that he thinks you're gorgeous." (for Harry, with Ron's encouragement, had gone over, in detail, his and Hermione's first kiss).
But all Hermione responded with was a faint whimper.
"Fine, I'll be right back," he told her, sitting up, and intent on finding Harry.

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Ron was watching through the door crack, proud of himself for getting his two best friends back in a room together. He couldn't hear their exact words, but he hoped they were getting along. But, he couldn't hope for long, for Hermione had just slapped Harry, hard in the face. Harry staggered backwards, tripped over the couch and fell on the floor. Ron was losing faith. All fingers crossed, he looked back through the window, and he saw Harry say something that looked awfully like "I still love you, Hermione, no matter how many times you punch me or break my heart." Ron guessed he had read his best friend's lips correctly, for Hermione's eyes immediately softened at this and he, getting fed up, grabbed an Extendable Ear and fed it through the door way.

"What did you just say?" she asked.
"I LOVE YOU!" Harry bellowed, so that Ron staggered backwards clutching the ear.
"So-so, you really aren't using me to get over Ginny?" Hermione questioned in barely over a whisper.
"I would NEVER do that! I never loved her, or Cho, only you, all along." he replied with the air that Hermione had mortally offended him. At this, Ron's jaw flew to the floor.
"Oh, Harry," she breathed in between a sob, before flinging herself onto him, throwing her arms around his neck and kissing him.

Ron, with difficulty, refrained himself from laughing out loud as Harry immediately wound his hands around her waist and pulled her closer. Amazed at his luck, Ron did a silent jig around the room, all the while singing, "They're kissing, they're kissing! Hahahaha!"

Oblivious to their friend and his strange behavior, Harry and Hermione were wrapped in a close embrace on the carpet.