She shuffled some papers that had been sitting on her desktop, and stared at the framed photo of the three of them. There she was, standing between the two best friends she’d ever had in her entire life. Ron was funny, light-hearted, and quick to temper. Harry was a kindred spirit even though he was very nearly the complete opposite – the dark to Ron’s light, at least as far as appearance went.
She placed her elbow on the hard surface and rested her chin on her fist. It would be all right, she thought, if she only had confusing feelings about one of them – but both? Some higher being must have designed this specifically to torture her. That was the only explanation for it. She should be able to make up her mind by now. After all, she was a grown woman of seventeen – nearly eighteen, really.
It was just that… well, she knew the both of them so well. She had watched them, and she knew their movements like her own. She knew their favorite things, what they hated; she could tell their handwriting apart. She knew every nuance of their speech patterns. She knew everything about them that could possibly be known by another human being, without using Legilimency or Veritaserum on them.
That was part of the problem, she thought. She knew them both so well. She watched as the photograph Harry and Ron grabbed her own photograph self and crushed her in a bear hug, and she smiled. She’d had the entire summer to sit around and think about the two of them (in between furious bouts of studying, of course), and it just hadn’t done any good. All she’d done was make herself even more confused.
She picked up the picture and placed it inside her trunk, taking great care to ensure that it was wrapped properly, so it wouldn’t get broken on the trip back to Hogwarts (which always tended to be rather bumpy – they were on a train, after all). Funnily enough, her parents were the people she left during the school year, and it had never even occurred to her to take a photo of them to Hogwarts.
*
Once they were all on the train, it was as though they’d never been apart. Ron and Harry fell back into their old patterns of teasing her, and she fell back into her old habit of being the nagging peacemaker. The only thing that seemed to have really changed was that every so often, she would catch Harry looking at her strangely. As soon as she caught him, however, he would look away.
When they had almost reached Hogwarts, she caught Ron giving her one of the same looks that she’d been getting from Harry all day. Confused, she frowned and gave a loud sigh.
“All right, you two. What’s going on?”
“What?” Harry asked, pushing his glasses up.
“What do you mean?” Ron asked, too innocently.
“Both of you have been giving me weird looks for the last few hours, and I want to know what you’re up to. Have I got something in my hair? On my face? Or are you two planning to pull a prank on me? Because if you are, I’d really appreciate knowing about it in advance so I can avoid it.”
Ron stared blankly at her, and Harry simply blinked.
“This isn’t funny,” she continued, folding her arms over her chest.
Harry cleared his throat. “You don’t have anything on your face or in your hair,” he said, straightening in his seat. He nudged Ron with his elbow.
“Right,” Ron piped up. “And we’re not planning any pranks, either. Not right now, anyway.” Harry rolled his eyes and shook his head, and Ron grinned.
“Then why do you two keep looking at me like that?”
“I’m not sure what you’re talking about, Hermione,” Harry said. “How exactly are we looking at you?”
Hermione deflated. “I don’t even know. Just forget I said anything.” Perhaps her newly found feelings for the both of them were clouding her perception. She could have sworn that Harry had looked… no, she decided, shaking her head decisively. Harry would never be interested in her like that.
“Why are you shaking your head?” Ron asked, watching her closely. She could feel the blood rising to her face.
“I don’t know,” she said, sighing. “I don’t know what’s wrong with me today. Just ignore me.”
“We’re trying, but you’re not making it very easy,” Ron said, laughing. Hermione’s mouth dropped open in surprise, and Harry kicked Ron. “Sorry! I didn’t mean it.”
Harry said something out of the corner of his mouth to Ron, and while she couldn’t be sure she’d heard it correctly, Hermione could’ve sworn he said “teaspoon.”
*
The first few weeks of school passed uneventfully enough, which Hermione was grateful for. She still loved her studies and she still loved school with what her fellow students considered an unholy passion, but at the same time, she was finding herself more and more distracted by her boys. When Luna Lovegood asked Harry on a date trip to Hogsmeade and he accepted, Hermione was shocked, to say the least. When Ron decided to ask Lavender to accompany him on the same day, she was gobsmacked. Not wanting to walk around Hogsmeade alone, she tried to see if any of her female friends were available. To her great dismay, they weren’t.
She braved the streets of Hogsmeade alone, and found halfway through her time there that she wasn’t enjoying this particular trip at all. She bought a cup of chocolate from a street vendor and sat down on a stone bench, hoping that the boys were having fun without her, even though it hurt her to think of them with other girls. She’d known all along that it had to happen sooner or later; she just hadn’t been prepared for it to be so soon.
She was just beginning to feel quite sorry for herself when a shadow crossing her person made her look up. Dread pooled in her stomach. It was Neville, and while he was sweet, she had no romantic feeling whatsoever towards him. He had, it seemed, never quite overcome his crush on her, though.
He sat down beside her uninvited, which was very unlike him to do. “Hermione, would you like to go get something to eat with me?”
Poor thing, Hermione thought, giving him a sad smile. It must have taken him all day to work up the courage to ask me.
“I…” She stopped for a moment. Why shouldn’t she accept? She could explain to him that she had no interest in him that way, and then they could spend the day together, and she wouldn’t be alone. “Neville, you know that I’m only interested in being your friend, right?” Something strange surfaced in his eyes, but his smile remained.
“Sure.”
“Then on that note, if you’d still like to go, I’d love to.” His face brightened, and he stood, extending his hand towards her. She let him lead her to a simply horrible little tea room, where she refused to look around, for fear she’d see Harry and Ron and their respective dates.
“Are you all right?” Neville asked, tilting his head to study her.
“Yes, of course,” she said, sipping her cup of tea, and finding it wanting. She added another spoonful of sugar. “Why wouldn’t I be?”
“It’s just that – well,” Neville took a breath. “I usually see you with Harry and Ron, and today you’re not with them. Is anything the matter?”
Hermione frowned slightly. “Neville, don’t you want to talk about something else? I mean, you can’t really want to talk about my problems with Harry and Ron.”
“You looked like you needed a friend outside,” he said, shrugging. “And what else am I, if not your friend? I can listen as well as anyone.” Hermione considered him for a moment, and then nodded.
“Nothing’s really the matter. We haven’t been fighting or anything. It seems stupid, but I just – I just really felt left out today. I suppose I ought to get used to it. It’s not like they’re obligated to spend time with only me, is it?”
Neville gave her a weak smile. “You miss them.”
“No, I – well, yes,” she admitted. “I miss their constant bickering and nitpicking. Is that completely pathetic?” she asked, draining the last of her tea. Neville shook his head.
“It’s not pathetic. You spend a lot of time with them, so it seems only natural that you should miss them.” She nodded slowly and gave him a grateful smile.
“Of course. Yes, you’re absolutely right.” She nodded again, reassuring herself, and then waved to the waitress to bring her some more tea. “Spot on, Neville. Well said.” She heard Neville make a soft noise, and looked up to find him smothering a laugh. “What?”
“Are you trying to tell me that I’m right, or are you trying to convince yourself that I’m right?” Hermione’s mouth dropped open, and she looked from the new cup of tea being placed in front of her to the waitress, and then back over at her friend.
“I beg your pardon?”
“Hermione, how often have you thought about this?”
She’d thought about it more than she cared to admit. She blinked owlishly at him, and he smiled again. “Enough,” was all she would say.
“Have you talked to them about it?”
“To the boys?” she scoffed, frowning. “Absolutely not. Why would I go and do a thing like that?”
“How do you know that they don’t already know how you feel?”
“Please,” she said, rolling her eyes. “I think we both know how ridiculous an idea that is.”
“It’s not so ridiculous,” he said, a bit defensive. “Even I can see that you’re nuts about them both, and I’m not nearly as close to you as they are.”
Panic welled up inside of Hermione’s chest as his words sank in. Was that true? Had she been that obvious, that everyone around could see right through her? Her throat was getting tight, and she began having difficulty breathing. Neville watched her pale and shot out a hand to cover hers.
“Don’t!” he whispered fervently. “I wouldn’t worry about anyone else knowing, if that’s what you’re on about. I just tend to notice people more. That happens when you don’t spend a lot of time around any one person.” She relaxed by degrees, and he withdrew his hand. She was immediately sorry she’d panicked, because apparently his admission had cost him. His face was red and he wasn’t making eye contact.
“I’m sorry, Neville,” she said, willing her racing heart to slow down. “I just don’t think I could bear it if they knew…”
“I understand,” he agreed, shredding a napkin as he spoke. “When you’re especially fond of someone and you’re not sure if you want them to know.”
Hermione’s heart sank. “Neville, I thought I already told you that I-“
“I’m not talking about you,” he confessed, giving her a tiny smile. Suddenly she felt about two inches tall.
“So back there, when I told you that I had no interest in you, you didn’t- you mean, you weren’t…” her words dropped off, and she could feel the blood rushing to her cheeks, making them burn.
“It’s not that you’re not attractive,” he said, his own blush coloring his cheeks. “But I’m interested in someone else. I have been for ages, you know. Never had the courage to tell her – I expect I never will, so I understand your predicament.”
Hermione considered this for a moment. Would she never tell the boys how she felt? Never seemed an awfully long time to stew over her unrequited feelings. And, come to that, how would she know for sure that they were totally unrequited if she never asked?
“Are you all right, Hermione?” Neville asked finally. She started, then smiled.
“Yes, Neville, I think I am. Thanks for this,” she said, gesturing to the tea. “I think it’s exactly what I needed.” He smiled.
“Hungry?” he asked. She nodded and rewarded his smile with one of her own.
“Famished.”
*
“I’m not sure how you can say that, Neville.” Ron and Harry exchanged meaningful glances as her voice echoed all the way down the hallway. She was clearly in academic mode again – a time during which the boys liked to either be playing exploding snap, wizard’s chess, or avoiding her altogether. They looked up just in time to see Neville shrug and shake his head.
“You don’t have the same love for it that I do,” he asserted, his cheeks burning with color. Harry blinked in surprise at the tone of his voice – it was almost forceful. “You can’t possibly understand.”
“I love it just as much as anyone else,” Hermione shot back, her hands flying to her hips.
“Which only goes to prove my point,” Neville replied. “No one else loves it!”
“Neville Longbottom!” she exclaimed, her lips pursed tightly together. Harry felt Ron elbow him in the side. Uh-oh. An angry Hermione was never a good thing. “I can’t believe you’d throw me in with everyone else. As you happen to know – as anyone with eyes can plainly see – I love Herbology- and every other subject I choose to take! So how you can stand there and insist that I-“
“Are we interrupting something?” Harry interjected casually. Ron cleared his throat and tried to fight back a grin at the sight of a clearly overexcited Hermione.
“No – we were just discussing the pros and cons of using Alihotsy in the treatment of mental patients at St. Mungo’s.”
“As if there are any benefits,” Hermione sniffed disdainfully. Neville hid a smile and nodded at them.
“I’m going to go get some work done. I’ll catch up with you lot later.” After he had disappeared, Hermione seemed to calm down, and followed his path through the portrait hole. She grabbed a discarded book from the desk she was near, and flopped gracelessly onto the couch with it. Harry and Ron exchanged another look. If she wasn’t going to talk about it, they weren’t going to force the issue.
Halfway through what was possibly their most intense game of wizard’s chess yet, she spoke.
“He’s interesting, isn’t he?” she mused aloud. Ron kept his eyes on the board, but Harry glanced up.
“Who’s that, then?”
“Neville.” Ron blinked, but still didn’t look up.
“Interesting isn’t exactly the word I’d use,” Harry said slowly, his eyes now fixed on Hermione’s face. She was staring at the unopened book in her lap.
“Oh?” she asked distractedly. “What word would you use, then?”
“Mental,” Ron supplied, moving one of his pieces on the board. Harry didn’t bother giving him a reproachful look – it wouldn’t do any good; the redhead wasn’t looking, anyway.
“Hm,” Hermione replied softly. That got Ron’s attention, and he finally looked up at her. She was twirling a bit of hair around her finger, her brow furrowed in thought.
“Hermione,” Harry started. He glanced around; only Parvati and Lavender were left in the room with them. He lowered his voice significantly. “Is everything all right?”
“Yes,” she murmured. Then she finally looked at him. “Yes, of course. Why wouldn’t it be?”
Ron breathed a sigh of relief and turned back to the chess game. Harry simply watched Hermione, his eyes narrowing slightly. “Harry, it’s your go.”
“I think we should stop playing for tonight,” Harry declared, causing Ron to glare openly at him.
“But why? We’re dead even. If we kept playing, we’d-“
“Remember that talk we wanted to have?” Harry asked pointedly, his eyes darting towards Hermione and back again. Ron blinked.
“Yeah.”
“It seems to me like now might be the best time to have it.”
“Why?”
“Are you really this dense?” Harry hissed, hoping that Hermione hadn’t heard. “She likes Neville.”
“She’s been his friend since first year.”
“No, you don’t understand. She likes Neville.” It took a few moments to sink it, but when it did, Ron’s face turned a beet red, and he turned to see Hermione still twirling her hair around her finger.
“Oh.”
“Hermione,” Harry said, rising from his chair and clearing his throat. “Ron and I would like to talk to you.”
“Okay,” she muttered, still frowning at her hair. Ron sat down on the floor in front of her, and Harry perched on the edge of the sofa, his thigh touching her shoulder. This got her attention, and she sat up quickly, nearly upending Harry as she did so. “What’s wrong?”
“We’d like to ask you the same thing,” Harry said quietly, his arms folded across his chest. Ron just blinked at her.
“What? There’s nothing wrong with me,” she said quickly, her words leaving her in a rush.
“We’re your best friends, right?” Harry asked. She nodded without hesitation. “Then you can tell us anything.”
“Erm…” she muttered, glancing around the room. Parvati and Lavendar were heading up the stairs to their room, leaving the trio alone in the common room. She could feel the blood rushing to her cheeks. “You know how you and Ron sometimes talk about things that you keep strictly between the two of you, because it’s boy stuff?”
“Yes,” Ron said, frowning. Harry’s brows shot up.
“If it’s kept strictly between the two of us, how would you even know about it?” He glanced at Ron, who blanched, and then looked back to Hermione.
“I was guessing,” she said, shrugging. “But do you see what I mean? There are some things that are strictly girl things.”
“But-“ Harry started, unfolding his arms.
“Do you like Neville better than us?” Ron blurted suddenly. Harry glared furiously at him, pushing his glasses back up his nose with more force than was necessary. Hermione’s mouth dropped open in surprise.
“What?”
“You heard me,” Ron insisted, ignoring the way Harry’s eyes were blazing. Harry’s lips were pressed into a thin line, not unlike the way Hermione’s did when she was angry. Possibly they’d been spending too much time together. “Do you?”
“Well, no – you know that you two are the best friends I’ve ever had. Why would you even ask such a-“
“He doesn’t mean do you like Neville better as a friend,” Harry finally interjected quietly. Hermione stared at Harry, then at Ron, and then moved her eyes back to Harry.
“Are you asking me…” she swallowed with some difficulty – suddenly her throat was extremely dry. “Are you asking if…?”
“We’ve already talked about this, me and Harry,” Ron explained, and her eyes darted back to his. “We’ve already talked about how we both feel about you, and it’s time we knew how you felt, too.”
Why was Ron suddenly becoming eloquently spoken, and at the same time when she felt completely dumbfounded? She couldn’t seem to form a coherent word for the life of her.
“What Ron means, of course,” Harry said smoothly. “Is that we had already found out that we both… you know… liked you.” He seemed to nearly strangle on the words.
“As more than a friend,” Ron added hastily. Harry narrowed his eyes at the redhead.
“Yes, Ron, I think she gets that.”
“Well, you don’t do very well talking to girls, mate, so I had to-“
“Oh, and you do, is that it?” Harry asked sarcastically. “Since when do you fancy yourself better at-“
“Are you saying,” Hermione interrupted. Both boys closed their mouths and turned expectant eyes towards her. “Are you telling me that you both have feelings for me?”
“Yes,” they answered in unison. She felt dizzy and lightheaded.
“And you’ve told each other this, but not me?”
“We’ve just told you,” Ron said slowly, frowning.
“We didn’t tell you before because we didn’t want to ask you to choose between us. Plus we didn’t even know if you felt the same way, so why bring up a moot point, right?”
Hermione stared. She stared for so long that Harry squirmed under her gaze.
“Stupid, stupid boys,” she finally said breathlessly, her heart pounding wildly inside her chest.
“What?” Ron asked, frowning again. “Did you just- did she just say we were-“
“Do you know what I spent my entire summer doing?” she asked, her voice louder as she built up steam. “I was agonizing over you two!” Harry’s face registered shock, and then his eyes began to glitter wildly. Hermione took no notice as she stood from the couch and began pacing frantically in front of them. Ron tried to keep up for a moment, and went cross-eyed before he gave up.
“I drove myself batty thinking about this,” she said, gesturing vaguely towards the boys, who were both now on their feet, and whispering quietly. Harry said something to Ron that erased his frown and made a smile burst across his face. “I couldn’t sleep at night, because I was too busy wondering how I was going to deal with the fact that I had more than friendly feelings for both of my best friends – and you two!” she accused, turning to them. Their smiles waned. “You had already discussed this, and decided not to tell me? How could you?”
The boys kept straight faces – until she stomped her foot. It took approximately four seconds for them to burst out into peals of laughter.
“What?” she asked, utterly perplexed. “Why is that funny?”
“She stamped her foot,” Ron laughed, tears forming in his eyes.
“I can’t believe she actually did that!” Harry agreed, removing his glasses and wiping his own eyes. Tears were forming in Hermione’s eyes as well, but for very different reasons.
“Didn’t you think to - to ask me what I wanted?” she stammered, hating the weak way her words came out. The laughter stopped at once, and Harry was at her side, hesitating only a moment before wrapping his arms awkwardly around her. She buried her face in his shoulder, trying to stifle the sobs that threatened to overtake her.
“We didn’t mean anything by it, Hermione, I swear. We were just confused, and we didn’t want to confuse you, too.” Harry shot a glance at Ron, indicating with his eyes that it was his turn. Ron closed the distance between them and began slowly stroking Hermione’s hair.
“We didn’t want to make everything weird,” Ron agreed. “We didn’t want you to stop hanging around with us because of something we’d said.”
“Didn’t you stop to think that if you were both confused that I might be, too?” she asked, her voice muffled as she spoke into Harry’s jumper.
“No,” Ron answered honestly. Hermione pulled away just enough to be able to examine both of their faces.
“Why in the world not?”
“We never considered for a moment that you might …” Harry’s face turned red again. “That you might… like us too.”
“But – I don’t understand. Why?”
“Are you really going to make us say it?” Ron asked, his eyes pleading. Hermione pursed her lips together, and he sighed. “You are.”
“Say what, exactly?”
“We never thought that you might like us because you’re better than us,” Ron blurted, averting his eyes. Hermione’s eyes widened, and she stared at both of them in turn.
“Where would you get such a ridiculous idea?”
“Let’s face it,” Harry said, loosening his grip on her. “You’re smarter than both of us put together.”
“Yes, and you’re nicer, too,” Ron added.
“Plus, you always-“
“Shut up,” she said, closing her eyes. Harry blinked in surprise. “Just shut up. You’re both the biggest bloody idiots on the planet, do you know that?”
Neither one of them answered her.
“How could I possibly love anyone more than I love the two of you? Ron, you’re brave and sweet, and when no one’s looking, you’re terribly considerate.” Ron blushed under her praise and stared at his shoe, though a huge smile was plastered on his face. “And Harry – how can you say that about my being smarter? No one has a better handle on defensive spells than you! And you’re thoughtful, and always mindful of my feelings. Well – almost always,” she corrected herself. Harry grinned at her, even though he was blushing, too.
“I could never choose between you both,” she continued, her voice softer. “And I don’t want to cause any fights between us… so what do we do?”
“We’re big boys,” Ron said, inching closer to her.
“What does that mean?” she asked breathlessly. Harry’s arms tightened around her torso, and Ron’s arms snaked around her waist. Any hope of coherent thought flew right out the window.
“It means we can share,” Harry said, his breath tickling the shell of her ear.
Hermione thought she had never heard a more brilliant word in her entire life.