Written for the Harmony and Co.'s Lyric Llama Challenge! This fic was inspired by the lyrics from the song Hard to Say I'm Sorry by Chicago. I claim no ownership of the song; I only used it as inspiration.

"Hold me now.

It's hard for me to say I'm sorry.

I just want you to stay,

After all that we've been through, I will make it up to you,"

Staring at the moon outside, the alluring silver rays lightening the park below, Hermione tries to quash the feelings roaring inside her. She looked back to the book she is reading, all whilst curled under the fuzzy blankets.

It hurts.

She knows he is currently out, having the time of his life, partying away. Another girl will vie for his attention and as usual, like the kind gentleman he is, he will oh so kindly indulge them. Humor them. He will go out, escort the newest girl to her flat, and have his way with her once she gave him enough hints. It is almost a routine for him. Go out, drink, have fun with a girl for one night, maybe for a week, and then move on to another girl.

Honestly, if it wasn't for her torturous heart, she would have just gone ahead and tried dating until she found someone else to settle. It is logical after all, to try to give up on one person by being with another one. Rationally, it might be hard at first, but it would get easier eventually.

Sighing deeply, she shook her head and tried to continue to read her book. It just… didn't work. Once she starts to think about those infernal feelings of hers, her brain just wouldn't stop.

How many times does she need seeing him with another girl for her heart to understand it will not work out? How many times must she grin and bear the flirtatious jokes he throws her way, knowing nothing would ever come out of it?

Too many times, she must say.

It would have been easier if he didn't blatantly show off his conquests to her face. However, luck was just never by her side. Every single time he comes and visits her, he just goes on and on about them. She tried at the beginning to subtly urge him to stop talking to her about it, but it just won't do. He never got the hint. It helps that a good portion of the time, Ron is there as an alternate target of one of his tirades. Unfortunately, whenever that happens, more often than not the talks tend to get a bit more… graphic in its descriptions.

Releasing a frustrated groan, she closes the book and puts it on the side. She won't be able to do any more reading today. Her head is just not in the mood.

Standing up, she walked to the window and pressed her head against the cool glass. Closing her eyes in an attempt to calm the turbulent thoughts in her head, she sighed. She did try, once, to express her feelings to him. It was before he started to lead this new lifestyle of his.

It was after one of the gatherings they tend to have with their friends. After the conclusion of the party and during the clean-up, she gathered enough courage to confess to him her feelings. A few months have had passed by since him and Ginny broke up, and it seemed that he was finally ready for a new relationship. Before she was able to enter the room he was in, Ron came over and started to talk with him. She wasn't able to enter the room, but she just stood outside, waiting till Ron left, and he was left alone.

She heard from the gist of the conversation that he won't even think of dating her. After all, she is just the best friend right? She had heard enough and left when she overheard him say to Ron that he won't ever seriously consider going out with her. She spent the rest of the night crying in the safe confines of her room. Since then, she vowed to never tell him how she felt. And the day after that, although he did ask if she was okay, she managed to plaster a smile on her face, telling him that everything is just fine. Eventually, she managed to somehow convey to him that she thought of him as a dear friend; nothing more.

Her heart rebelled against her words, but her brain managed to stamp it away. She grabbed her feelings and threw them in a box, locking them deep inside her heart. At some point after that incident, Luna, intuitive as ever, did try to ask her why she didn't go ahead and told him her feelings. Back then, she scoffed and laughed at the idea, telling her that there is no way she would ever do that. Why would she try confessing, if she already knew the outcome of the conversation? It is best to stay as friends, rather than say something that she would never be able to take back.

Opening her eyes, Hermione frowned. At this rate, she won't be able to get any sleep. Sighing she straightened herself out and checked the time. It was late, sure, but there is still enough time for her to go out and get a drink. At least, once she is sufficiently drunk, her brain would stop wreaking havoc and allow her to go to bed.

Nodding to herself, she summoned some comfortable clothes and proceeded to wear them. After all, why will she dress up if all she is going to do is try to drown her heartaches?

Checking her reflection to make sure she is looking presentable, she grabbed her wand and made sure to lock her flat. Walking out of the block, she walked aimlessly, stopping sporadically to stare at the occasional couple walking by. Honestly, it seems that whenever she walks out after thinking about him, all she is able to see are couples acting lovey-dovey. Her gut twisting, she stopped and entered the first pub she saw.

Sitting on the bar she signed the bartender to send her a glass. Grabbing the drink, she immediately gulped it down, grimacing as it burned down through her throat. Feeling her head lightning slightly, she scowled and ordered for more.

Time blurring; she lost count at the number of glasses she drank. Her head felt lighter than before, and her body never felt that relaxed. Taking a sip of what she is drinking, she found it amazing how the burn she felt previously was all but numbed; the alcohol soothed her into a relaxing state.

At some point, she dozed off, sloshed by the number of drinks she had. She was having a very lovely dream when she was jostled awake by a firm hand, shaking her. Groggily opening her eyes, she squinted at the person who managed to wake her.

"Go away..." Hermione mumbled, resting her head again. She was about to close her eyes when she heard the last voice she wanted to hear.

"Hermione? What are you doing here?"

Shivering at the voice and opening her eyes, she peered up at the cause of her misery. Catching the look in his green eyes, she quickly averted hers, cursing her luck. Out of all the places he could have gone, he just had to decide to go to the pub she frequents. She shrugs and went to grab the unfinished drink she was consuming before she took a nap. The first attempt was rather pathetic, completely missing her mark. Before she made a second one, a hand grabbed her wrist, preventing her from moving it.

Squinting at the hand that was grabbing her wrist, her eyes followed the path of the offending arm until she looked at the face of the offender. Her chocolate-brown eyes clashing with green, she tilted her head, pushing him to let go of her hand.

He didn't.

"... Are you okay?" he said. His eyes softened for some reason, and his eyebrows arched. It has been a while since she saw him looking at her with such obvious concern. Opening her mouth, she was about to respond when she spotted a blond woman behind him, frowning at both of them. Hermione clammed up, averting her eyes and looked away. A spike of pain shot through her chest at the way the woman was looking at him.

"I am fine Harry. You can go now," Hermione mumbled, trying to free her wrist from his firm grasp.

Harry frowned, "I think you drank too much, you are all over the place... Let me help you back to your flat."

"No... I don't need your help". With a strong pull, she managed to pull herself free and hastily stood up, legs precariously wobbling for a few moments before mostly settling down. Opening her purse, she rummaged through it, trying to find some cash to pay for her tab, when she heard Harry tell the bartender that the tab will be on him.

Before she was able to protest, she was pulled out of the pub and into the lightened streets outside. With the alcohol running in her system and the cold outside, her face was flushed, blush quickly spreading down her neck. Shivering slightly, she was about to walk away when a heavy weight was placed upon her shoulders. Looking down, she noticed that a heavy cloak was now covering her, shielding her from the cold.

"C' mon Hermione, let's take you home."

There was an odd inflection in his tone, and although she would have loved knowing what it was, her brain just wasn't up to the task. Feeling tipsy and bone tired, she silently nodded and allowed herself to be lead back to her flat. She had to be supported a good amount of the time and babbled to him while being dragged back to her home. She was not really aware of what she was talking about. Refusing to look up at him once they reached her flat, she tried to open the door. It was to no avail until a silent unlocking charm managed to open it.

She was lead back to her bedroom and with difficulty, was tucked into the soft confines of her bed. The moment her head touched the pillow, she quickly drifted off to sleep, totally missing the intense look a pair of green eyes were giving her.

Hermione slowly woke up groaning and put her head in her hands, her sore head throbbing wildly. Her throat parched, she sluggishly went out of bed and closed the curtains. Summoning a hangover potion, she gulped it down, headache relived almost instantly. Head no longer pounding, she furrowed her eyebrows and tried to recall what on earth happened to her. Closing her eyes, a mirage of fuzzy memories came to the forefront of her mind, and suddenly she opened her eyes. Right... She wasn't able to sleep yesterday, so she went out to have a drink. Hermione had random flashes of ordering drinks until she blacked out. Harry found her and escorted her home. She doesn't recall what happened during the walk, but she does remember being tucked into bed. Harry must have left afterward to go back to the pub. Remembering the face of the blonde woman, Hermione's heart clenched again.

Resigned to her misery, she quickly took a shower from the conjoined bathroom and dressed up in some homey clothes. Exiting her room, she headed to the living room when her nose caught the smell of some hot breakfast. She scrunches her eyebrows, curious to see who decided to barge into the kitchen. Opening the door, she spotted a mop of black hair, cleaning one of the pans. She paused, her eyes widening. The last thing she expected is for her to find Harry in her flat.

Cautiously, Hermione moved forward and headed towards the island table. The moment she sat down, Harry came and held two plates of hot bacon.

"Good morning Hermione," Harry said, "Have you taken the potion yet?"

"Yes, I have but... Harry? What are you doing here? Isn't it a bit early to come for a visit?"

"Well..." Harry said, raising an eyebrow "It is quite an odd story. For you see, I happened to come across a passed out otter yesterday at night, and I cannot help but want to make sure it is safe." He cut a piece of the bacon and took his time biting it. Swallowing it, he continued, "So, I made sure to escort the poor otter back home. Once she was back safe and sound, I decided to stay."

Hermione stared at him, "But... Why did you stay? Why didn't you—Just why?"

He smiled at her, and she could have sworn she saw a glint of something in his eyes. "I will tell you once you finish your food. So eat up, will you?"

Having no other choice, Hermione made sure to eat her food quickly, cleaning the plate off in record time. Wiping her mouth, she stood up and put her plate in the sink, cleaned it and put it on the rake. She went back to the table, and sat down, waiting for Harry to finish off his breakfast. It felt like forever until he finished it. Throughout her wait, he did not look up from his plate and did not say a single word. It gave her a small window to freely look at him, even if it is just for a bit. Once he was finished, he deftly placed his knife and fork to the side, wiped his mouth with a napkin, and stood up. With a flick of his wand, he sent his utensils to clean themselves, and in no time at all, everything was clean.

Smiling down at her, with that same odd look in his eyes, he offered his palm to her. Shyly, she placed her hand in his, and cannot help but marvel internally at the sure way he held it. She could, at that moment, feel the calluses underneath his fingertips, and with her thumb, feel the faint ridges of the words carved onto his skin. With a single pull, he pulled her up and hugged her. Her head nestled on his chest; she can hear his steady heartbeat and his musky scent. Blushing strongly, she willed her body to not react and managed to suppress her reactions. The red tint quickly fading from her cheeks; she managed to calm herself just in time for Harry to pull her away, and with a soft smile, led her to the living room, guiding her to sit on one of the sofas.

She plopped down on the soft cushion, grabbed a throw pillow, and proceeded to hug it to her chest. The silence stifling, she did not dare lift her eyes. A tension permeated the air with an unknown charge, making her fidget in her seat.

"Here"

Startled, she looked up and saw Harry offering a hot mug of chocolate milk. Tentatively taking it from his hand, the warmth quickly spread throughout her chest as she slowly sipped from it. Once done, she placed the mug on the coffee table.

"Um... Harry? Why are you here? Shouldn't you... I don't know; be somewhere else? "Hermione asked, hesitantly raising her eyes to meet his. By now Harry sat on the adjacent sofa, looking right at home as if he didn't just barge in.

"Where?"

"I don't know... With one of your gi—eh— dates?" Hermione said, cringing.

Quirking his eyebrow, he leaned back, crossing his arms, "I wasn't with anyone yesterday."

"Y—I mean, no," she grumbled, "You know what I mean..."

"No, I don't Hermione." Sighing, he leaned forward, staring intently at her. She bore the weight of his gaze bearing down at her. "Look, Hermione, I heard some very interesting things yesterday, and need to ask you about them."

Tilting her head, she relaxed somewhat, wondering what will he say next, "I am listening."

"Now... Knowing you were drunk last night, I am unsure if you can recall everything, so..." Ruffling his hair, he sighed deeply and looked back at her, "Before I continue, I would like to ask you, do you remember what happened after we left the pub?"

Squinting her eyebrows, Hermione tried to recall what happened last night. She knows that Harry found her asleep in the pub, and left it with her, guiding her to her flat. She remembers being trucked to bed, but the details of what happened to remain foggy. "I don't know. To the best of my knowledge, nothing interesting happened. You accompanied me to my flat and tucked me to bed - Nothing special about that."

Harry closed his eyes, "I see..." he softly murmured. Opening them again, Hermione was shocked to see the spark she saw previously in his eye return. She was rooted, unable to tear her eyes away from him.

"Now then, is there something you want to tell me... something that you were unable to say previously?"

Her heart clenched. The conversation she overheard a while ago, between Ron and Harry flashed through her mind. Steeling her heart, she responded, "No Harry, there is nothing I didn't tell you about."

He frowned, "Are you sure?"

"Yes I am- why are you asking?"

He sighed, "Well... Do you remember our walk yesterday?"

Hermione frowned, "Not clearly... "

"So you don't remember you talking to me on the way back home?" Harry continued, leaning forward on his seat.

"I don't... Harry? What happened last night? What did I say?" Hermione asked, worried.

He closed his eyes and took a deep breath, "You said so many things, some things I know, while others I find... hard to believe. I need to know," Harry opened his eyes, his gaze intently staring at her, "Do you have any feelings for me?"

Hermione blinked, her heart beating frantically in her chest. That was the last thing she expected Harry to ask. Clenching her fists, and willing her face to not react, she answered, "You know I do Harry, you are my best friend"

"That is not what I asked," Harry said, narrowing his eyes. "What I mean is, do you or do you not have any romantic feelings for me?"

Her heart stopped for a few moments, before picking up again. Hermione widened her eyes, ears not believing the words coming out of Harry's mouth. She must be dreaming. This cannot be real. Staring at the man in front of her, Hermione willed herself not to cry.

"I—H-Harry?" she shakily asked, and looked down, averting her eyes.

He sighed and stood up. He slowly walked towards Hermione, each step inducing a flutter in her stomach just waiting to erupt. When he was close enough to touch, she was at the seams; any action might cause her control to waver and collapse. He knelt down in front of her and soothed her clenched fists. He started to rub them with his thumbs, softly, the way someone would calm a scared bird.

Ever so slowly, her heart calmed down, and she gradually relaxed, giving Harry a chance to grab hold of both her hands. Breathing shakily, she opened her eyes, and looked down at him, to see him staring intently at her hands like he was trying to memorize the shape of them. He blinked and looked up, his green eyes seemingly piercing through the metaphorical mask she wore.

"Scaring you was never my intention, Hermione," Harry said softly, "I just want to know... What do you feel about me?"

Biting her lip, she gulped, wet her throat, and looked back at him, wary. She tried to form words, but they refused to leave her lips. After a few tries of mouth flapping, she closed her mouth and looked away, biting her lip. She missed the way Harry's eyes caught the action, and darkened faintly, "Look at me... please"

Breathing out heavily, Hermione gathered some strands of courage and looked at Harry. He intently looked at her, his eyes piercing through her, and she felt lost in his gaze. Eventually, his eyes softened, he relaxed and smiled up at her. The butterflies, which have at some point calmed down, started to wreak havoc inside her stomach, once she saw that smile. She blushed, and shyly looked down, her bushy hair effectively hiding her from his line of sight.

"When I was walking you back home... You didn't stop talking to me yesterday. Some of the things that I heard from you were... interesting to say the least."

Hermione's heart paused for one second and then started again. Her face paled visibly, and she recoiled backward. She tried wrenching her hands out of Harry's grasp, but the hold he had on them was too strong. "W-What did I say?" Hermione asked.

"You kept saying how you are inevitably doomed to always be alone." Harry smiled wryly, "It was strange, you know? At some point, you started talking about how there is a guy you love — and I specifically remember you saying love —will never look at you..." Hermione paled and cursed herself. Out of all the possible things, she could have told him in her drunken stupor; it had to be the one thing that she vowed never to reveal.

"... So I asked you. It was the only thing I asked during our walk: who is the person you were in love with?"

Shuddering, Hermione widened her eyes. "Now that you are sober, I'd like to hear the answer from your lips again. Will you tell me?"

Looking down, and with a shuddering breath, "What is the point of telling you... It is obvious you do not have any—I mean—"

"—any feelings for you?" Harry continued for her, frowning. He gently tilted her face towards him, making it impossible for her to turn her head away. Now it is unfeasible for her to hide the drops that managed to escape her lids. Closing her eyes, she attempted to quell the dam that opened to no avail.

Gradually, the hold on her face loosened, and Hermione felt fingers gently wiping the tears off her cheeks. Opening her eyes, she looked at Harry's concentrating face, gaze silently watching her. He smiled at her, "Hermione, I have always loved you. How could I not, when you have been there beside me all the time?"

She snorted, "That is hard to believe..."

"What is?"

"The fact that you love me!" Hermione snarled bushy hair crackling with magic. "You never said anything!—"

"Of course I couldn't tell you." Harry interrupted. "How could I? I knew you were in love with someone, everyone kept commenting about it, even though they stopped whenever they spotted me listening. I just... Don't know, chickened out?" Harry mumbled. "I never thought you would love me in that way, so whenever someone came over and asked me why I wasn't dating you, I always sprouted out that because you are my best friend, I cannot. That it would be too awkward...

"And then, a few months ago, at some point, while talking, you came to me, and told me that you would always look at me as a friend, nothing more. How is a bloke supposed to react?"

Hermione sighed, "I don't know Harry, but it definitely wasn't by going out with a different girl practically every week."

Harry closed his eyes, not before Hermione managed to catch a glimpse of regret and hurt, "You have no idea how much I regret that..." opening his eyes, "those girls were nothing but distractions, please believe me. I started to go out with them hoping that with enough time, I would move on... or at least, try to make you jealous enough to for me to see—I don't know, a hint of your feelings for me." Harry ruffled his unkempt hair, "I know, it was a bad idea, but that is the only way I could think of to find out if you love me or not..."

Sighing Hermione stared up at the ceiling. He already heard her confession, and although she does not recall it, there is nothing that she can really do about it. She remembers the spike of pain when she heard him say he only sees her as a friend, what felt like ages ago. She remembers her anguish as she cried into her pillows at night. She remembers the green monster curling in her chest, whenever he talks about the many dates and women he was with.

It hurts.

She would have loved to jump in his arms and proclaim her love. She would have loved to kiss him and melt into him. But now, after the months of torment, she does not believe she is ready for that yet.

"Harry?" Hermione said, startling him somewhat in his seat, "How can you prove to me that you—that you love me?"

"... Should have known..." he muttered.

"Look, Hermione," his thumb tilted her head, "I love you. I know it is hard to believe I won't hurt you after all that I did. I know...", Harry gulped, "But know this: I love you dearly. Not as a friend. I would love to have the chance to be with you if you would have me... It may take time for you to believe I won't hurt you. That is a mistake I won't ever repeat..."

Harry trailed on into silence. The only sounds that can be heard are the small sniffles from Hermione and the distant chirping of a few birds, sitting comfortably on a tree. She managed to calm herself eventually and braved herself to open her eyes. She can see he is being sincere. Hope, determination, fear— and dare she say it — Love can be clearly seen reflected in his eyes. To see that there because of her is something she never imagined possible. Tentatively, a soft smile graced her lips, and she was rewarded with the tenderest expression she has ever seen grace across Harry's face. The fact that she is the one seeing it— not Ginny or any of the girls who dated him, but her — made her feel giddy with happiness.

Yet, the thought of those girls has darkened her mood. So many things have happened in such a small amount of time that she's not so sure if it is right for her to forgive him so soon. Although he did act up in the name of figuring out her feelings, it still hurt. There is nothing else she wants but to be together with him, but... "It is too soon," Hermione said. "Harry, there was nothing more I would love than for you to tell me those three words." She fidgeted with the hem of her shirt, "But now, with the way you acted—"

She suddenly found herself unable to talk, for a finger was deftly placed on her mouth, silencing her. Observing her shocked eyes, Harry grinned at her, "Hermione... that was not the answer I wanted to hear. Knowing you, you were going to list all the reasons why we shouldn't date. But..."

He leaned forward." ...I think we have wasted enough time. It may be true I dated around, but that is because no matter whom I went out with, no matter what I did, my mind always went back to you. You were the only person in my heart, and it pissed me off that you didn't think of me that way. How could I have known you loved me? Whenever I thought to confess, I always remembered your face when you told me you only thought of me as a friend. You hurt me... And you didn't even know it."

"And frankly, I don't want to think about that," Harry resolutely said. "So much time has passed, and honestly, I don't want to waste anymore." Removing his hand from her lips, he gently tucked an unruly lock behind her ear, causing a blush to spread throughout her face, and down her neck.

"You know I love you, and I know you feel the same way too. I don't want to waste any more time, talking about what has been when we could be doing something more interesting to make up for lost time. So..."

With a smile, Harry grasped her hands and wasted no time in pulling her down to him. Squeaking at the abrupt movement, Hermione found herself suddenly pulled into his chest, with his heady scent enveloping her senses. There, held in the confines of Harry's arms, she felt all the tension leave her body. She snuggled as close as she can to him, her body relaxing to the sound of his heartbeat.

"... I love you, Hermione. With all my heart, I do. I know you are it for me and..."

"–I love you."

He pulled her away from him, giving Hermione the chance to marvel at the transparent look of wonder on his face. He smiled and leaned down, his forehead pressing against hers. Love evident in his eyes, she beamed at him, the pain that was lodged in her chest washed away by the intensity of Harry's love.

There was nothing else to say. In unison, they both leaned forward, his hands cupping her cheeks and her arm snaking around his neck. Her chocolate brown eyes closed, just as a set of eager lips touched hers. They were frozen for a long moment that felt like forever before they ultimately broke off the kiss.

They stared at each other, and as Hermione was wrapped in the embrace of her love, cuddled to his chest, and listening to his steady heart, she knew that all will be well.