He'll Never Know

A whole new world,
A dazzling place I never knew...
But when I'm way up here,
It's crystal clear,
That now I'm in a whole new world
With you ...

-Jasmine, Aladdin

He'll Never Know

By Laura Chant.

'I never believed I'd ever feel the way I do about the both of them. I really do love the pair of them greatly, more than any girl could ever love her siblings or friends.

What most people just don't understand is that the bond between the three of us stretches beyond life. To us - well, to me at least - my life is meaningless as long as they are happy.

I love them that much.

And I'd willingly lay down my life, and suffer the most unimaginably painful death in existence, just so they could live, breathe and have a normal, love filled life.'

Hermione Granger dropped her quill and ran her fingers through her hair, making sure her diary was firmly shut, closed from prying eyes.

She looked around the Common Room, letting her eyes slowly adjust to the overpowering blood red colour that drenched the walls and gave her eyesight a slightly reddish tint.

Across the walls were splashes of gold, which although they were arranged in no particular order, very few people could deny that it didn't look pretty.

... Well apart from the Slytherins, but they'd disagree with anything, the argumentative basta- um, I mean rascals.

Hermione scanned the room. In one corner, Seamus Finnigan had thought it would be absolutely hysterical if he stole Lavender Brown's underwear, put it on his head and run around the Common Room singing "Lavender is our Queen" (a spin off version of "Weasley is Our King", only with more swearing and sexual references).

Naturally, he was regretting his ten minutes worth of comedy, as Lavender had found out and was now beating him around the head with a spatula. Don't ask me where she received this piece of kitchen utility, but it seemed to sum up her anger quite nicely, and was causing the Irishman some justifiable damage.

In another corner, Colin Creevey and his brother Dennis had discovered a further joy of wizard photography ... if you charm the photos in the normal solution to make the subjects move, but add the extra ingredient of powdered viagra, the characters quite willingly, seductively, strip in the finished photo.

At the minute, they were selling some more sneaky photographs to a group of girls who never stopped squealing and talking in very high-pitched voices. They bugged the magic out of Hermione, and she'd been tempted on more than one occasion to Avada Kedavra the poo out off them all.

Though, curiosity got the better of Ms. Granger, and she leaned a little closer to the tightly-knitted group to see what the Creevey brothers where selling this time. She regretted her actions almost immediately, because she saw a naked Professor Snape dancing rather excitedly, while tossing his greasy hair out of his eyes in a 'because I'm worth it' sort of way, and either on accident or on purpose, covering the camera in his icky hair grease, clouding the vision and causing the photo to melt slightly.

... Hermione made a mental note to pester them for Therapy money later.

In another corner they sat, both their heads bowed in conversation, their faces stern and foreboding.

Sometimes, Hermione thought, Harry looked like he literally carried the weight of the world on his shoulders. Hermione often felt tempted to walk over to him and try to lift it off, but she knew this was impossible.

Harry kept many things to himself, and he believed that this burden was his to carry to the end; he would never share it, even with Ron.

Plus, Hermione knew that if she ever did lift it, the weight would probably crush her. She also knew that Harry had yet many things to tell Ron and herself, but she believed in his own time, he would tell them and they'd deal with it together.

... Or she hoped this anyway; for her sanity's sake, and his.

Ron, on the other hand, constantly looked like he had been smacked up the face with a heavy book. Or someone had showed him a naked picture of Voldemort; it was just that stupid dumbstruck expression which Hermione adored about him. It showed vulnerability and innocence, among other things.

Ron had let his hair grow recently; it suited him well, and it outlined his features more and tended to take the concentration away from his long nose.

Beside Ron and Harry, Neville was trying to show Ginny a new freezing spell he had learned. Ginny, who, obviously, was unwilling to be his test dummy, kept trying to stand up, but then Neville would look like he was about to cry and she'd abruptly sit back down again with a long, bored sigh.

Hermione caught her eye and shared a sympathetic smile; Ginny rolled her eyes heavenward, though returned the smile.

Hermione was truly grateful for all she had at Hogwarts. She had found an amazing talent, that had been the subject of many fairy tales before her time; she had two brilliant friends, the opportunity of a interesting and exciting career after she left the school grounds ... and yet, something kept nagging at the bottom of her stomach, saying silently, whispering to her heart and whistling in the wind around her:

You no longer are friends ... you love him.

Then, he waved Hermione over to sit by him.

A little fluttery feeling began in the pit of Hermione's stomach, it kept going until it engulfed her whole body and made her shudder slightly.

She shook her head and motioned toward the stairs of the girls dormitories as she collected her books, determined not to let the uncontrollable urge to blush overtake her until she was in the safety of her own room.

He shrugged and smiled a smile that could brighten up a dark room, melt more ice caps than global warming ever could, and make a girl go weak at the knees.

Suddenly, something hit Hermione in the middle of the back with enough force that it knocked the wind out of her.

He stood up from his table, panic etched into every line on his face, he tried to grab Hermione before she fell, but it was too late.

With her face contorted in pain, blackness engulfed Hermione and she crumpled into a lifeless slump on the floor.

The Infirmary

10 hours later.

Hermione was aware of silent voices whispering all around her. A painful light kept her eyes pinned shut, and her head seemed to be spinning at one hundred miles per hour.

Oh Merlin, what happened?

Then his face seemed to swim out of her clouded thoughts. His face, so obviously worried about her, he tried to help her ... maybe he did care after all.

Cautiously, she opened her eyes. Blurred images swam in front of her until, finally, they focused on a Redhead and a Scarhead.

"Jesus, Hermione, you had us worried. You feeling any better?" Ron asked, running forward and grabbing her hand.

"All I can say is thank Merlin I was wearing brown trousers. Are you sure you're okay, Hermione?" Harry said, biting his lower lip and giving her a quick hug.

He asked how I was ... she thought, maybe he really does care?

'What ... what happened?' Hermione asked, staring into his eyes.

Harry looked at Ron, then back towards Hermione, his posture tensing slightly.

"It was Neville, he -er- had a little accident."

"Spell gone wrong?" Hermione asked.

"Wrong is an underestimate."

"Unholy disaster would be closer," Ron commented cheerfully.

Hermione smiled, but her mind was racing ahead of her body.

Oh my God, he saw me like that ... he worried about me, he probably rushed me here, and he might not have left my side.

Oh my God, what if my skirt flew up or anything and he saw my knickers? I'm wearing bright pink ones with 'I want a Slytherin in my pants' written on them ...

ARRGGGHHH! Damn laundry day!

"Hermione ... you all right? You've been hitting your hand off your head for the past minute," Harry asked, taking a seat on the other side of her bed.

Hermione, who was midway through another slapping session, quickly grabbed her wrist with her other hand and pulled it sharply away.

Ron raised his eyebrows.

"I, um, just remembered, er, something." Hermione stuttered.

"What was it?" Harry asked, pouring himself a glass of water.

'That, Lavender - er- is um, gay.'

The room was so silent, you could have heard Filch banging Mrs. Norris in the Astronomy Tower.

"Ex - Excuse me?" Ron asked, flabbergasted.

Great, Hermione, that was really good. Really tops the list of 'stupidest cover-ups to ever come out of your mouth.' Totally shoving 'my cat pooped on it' off the top spot ... by light years.

"Lavender's gay?" Harry repeated, "Oh Merlin, I never knew."

"She kept that really quiet," Ron remarked.

"When did you find out Hermione?"

"What?" Hermione asked trying to keep her expression as neutral as possible.

"When did Lavender tell you she was gay?" he asked, looking worried.

"Lavender isn't gay," Hermione said, amazed that she had even contemplated playing the dumb card.

Both boys exchanged knowing looks.

"I think we'll let you rest now, Hermione; you're obviously tired," Harry said, standing up and pushing his chair back towards the wall.

"Or crazy," Ron mumbled in an undertone, but Hermione heard him.

"We'll see you soon, Hermione, get better," Harry said, kissing her cheek.

Ron leaned over too and kissed her other cheek.

"Get better, I need my homework buddy," he smirked.

Once they had left, Hermione touched her left cheek, seriously considering the thought that she might never wash her face again.

Gryffindor Common Room.

A Day Later.

Hermione was still is a great deal of pain when she left the Infirmary a day later.

Both boys had a tight hold of her as they helped her into the Gryffindor Common Room. He was on her left side again; Hermione was beginning to think it was her lucky side.

He helped her sit down on her favourite chair by the fire, she winced slightly, but it didn't matter. Even from the briefest second of physical contact, Hermione's heart was all aflutter; it began in the base of her stomach and engulfed her whole body. It was slightly uncomfortable, but thoroughly enjoyable at the same time.

"Aw, Hermione, are you sure you're okay?"

"Yes," Hermione answered breathlessly.

He chuckled and moved towards the fire, to fill it with more logs.

Ron sat on her right side, and Harry soon followed suit to her left. Although Hermione felt very safe and secure between the two boys, she wished they would stop looking like they felt she could keel over at any moment ...

It was bloody annoying.

Ron tried to cheer Hermione up later on in the evening with dancing that should be made illegal in every country apart from Holland, because, well, Holland sounds like a fun place, which would do a lot of Ron-dancing.

Harry also attempted to do his own bit of cheering up, too, but his only involved borrowing Lavender's push up bra, putting it on, filling it with oranges and attempting to pole dance. When Lavender found out, she brought out her spatula again and hit him across the face, while crying towards the heavens about boys and her underwear going missing.

Harry tried to make it up to her by pushing 'So you think you're gay?' leaflets under her dormitory door.

Since the Hermione and neither seen nor heard anymore from the spatula, she was guessing Lavender hadn't found them yet.

Aw, Hermione look, he's trying to cheer you up! Wouldn't you looovveee a husband like that?

He can never be more than a friend.

Why?

Because I don't want to brake up the Trio. I don't want to spoil what we already have.

But you could have so much more!

... I know.

'Once, the three of us talked about families, I know family is very important to him and when he's older, he'd love to have a big family of his own. Though, he's never showed any signs of wanting to settle down with any girl, but I know deep down he wants to, and the selfish part of me hopes he'd consider little old buck-toothed me.'

"What'ya writing?" Ron asked, sneaking up behind Hermione.

"Nothing!" she said sharply, closing her diary with an audible click.

"So that was a big ol' page of nothing was it, Hermy?" Ron chuckled.

Hermione's eyes narrowed.

"Never call me that again, Ronald, or I shall have your broomstick and do unspeakable things to it."

Ron's face paled.

"Harry told me about it ... the 'Hermy' thing, I mean," defended Ron.

"Then I shall have his broomstick too."

"He wouldn't be happy about that."

"I don't care. It's the wrong time of the month to piss me off," Hermione stated simply.

"Why?" Ron asked. "Are you a werewolf?"

"Ask your mother."

"Why would she know? Is she a werewolf, too?"

"Oh, God."

"Is he one? Holy shit!"

Hermione couldn't help giggling.

Ron smirked as Harry bounced up behind him and over energetically said hello ... Hermione did worry about the boys' sexuality sometimes.

"What you talking about?" he asked, taking a seat opposite Hermione.

"Werewolves, broomsticks and all things random," Ron sighed, taking a seat also with that normal bemused expression all over his face.

"Sounds like the title of a cheesy porn movie."

"Only you'd know."

"What?"

"Nothing."

Hermione studied his face; the little line that forms on his brow when he's confused, his hair, his eyes, the spot under his left ear and the silly little things that made him who he was.

It basically was silly little things that made the infamous Gryffindor Trio who they are today.

There's Hermione, all brains, books and a contagious giggle ... Harry, with his brilliantly green eyes, messy hair and 'hug me, I'm vulnerable' aura, and then there's Ron. Ron had big hands, ginger hair and the ability to make you laugh even when facing death; who wouldn't want all of those qualities?

Neville had once described the Trio as the Beaver, the Stag and the Haddock. Hermione had been personally offended when he had said this and bounced off into a massive sulk and refused to help him in Potions for a whole 15 minutes.

Lavender, in the days when no one even thought about her underwear, had said at dinner that they were the brains, dreams and laughs of Gryffindor house, which Hermione preferred undoubtedly.

Her being the brains, because, well, she'd got the highest mark in the OWL exams, and managed to brew a shampoo for Professor Snape, which cleared his hair of grease. Even Pantene had said this impossible.

Harry being the dreams because so much lay on his shoulders, he could easily rid the Wizarding world of their greatest fear and live to tell the tale ... if only he could believe that.

And Ron being the laughs because, well, who wouldn't laugh at that face?

It was at times like this, with them all together, Hermione looked towards the future. She hoped, undyingly, that he would be part of it, in some shape or form. She dreamed of the possibilities of what they could have; a successful marriage, children, a happy home. But she immediately banished these thoughts from her mind, and locked them in a little cupboard at the very back.

What the three of them had together was too strong, and she refused to destroy it.

She may love him ...

But he'll never know.

But if only she knew that Ron and Harry were meeting up in the library for hot and passionate, steamy gay sex every Wednesday night.

She might not have felt so bad about proclaiming her love then, now would she?