A/N:

I just threw this together ten minutes ago after spending half an hour writing it. I had given it no prior thought and just randomly decided to write it. Please don't be too harsh, usually I think about my stories before I write them.

Anyways, this is an angst one shot dealing with HHR. You have been warned.

Words

“Harry,

I know that this is…strange, to say the least and that neither of us ever thought this would happen. When we were young it was just an act, and the three of us were the actors jumping nobly over hurdles and dodging the mysteries that waylaid us. But then we grew and our emotions matured and became raw and unchecked; something we could no longer control.

Ron fell in love with me, there’s no denying it and I don’t mean to sound conceited, but there was no going back for him then. And me? I remember you asking me that, Harry, I remember five yeas ago when we were seventeen you walking up to me and touching my arm.

‘Hermione,’ you said, ‘Hermione, tell me honestly. How do you feel about Ron?’

And I couldn’t answer you. I couldn’t find the words as I watched you drop your hand and take a step back. I saw something silver in your eye but then you looked away. There was a catch in your breath and you were turning around so quickly; as if you were frightened of me. Like I was about to cause you extreme pain.

Funny, how I remember that scene now. Now when it’s too late to answer you; to call you back and grasp your hand; now I have the words. I’ve built them up in my mind these past five years, I’ve scratched them out and blotted out masterpieces that explained why I did what I did – why I couldn’t answer you.

Words were always my ally, the one thing I could rely on to get me whatever I wanted. It seems almost ironic that the one thing I wanted most of all they couldn’t give me.

My reservoir of words died that night when you walked towards me, they shattered when you turned your back on me, and they disintegrated when you turned to her; never to return.

I tried to find the words when we were twenty. When you proposed to her. When she was laughing and crying at the same time, throwing her arms around your neck; her eyes alight with love. I tried to open my mouth and scream that no, she wasn’t the one you wanted. I was the one that made you cry and made you laugh. She wasn’t the one. But all I could do was gasp for breath and step backwards, feeling as if I would implode.

I thought you were in love with me, I thought you would wait until I could find the words you needed me to say. Those three simple words that would explain all my complicated feelings. The only words I could never utter.

When you gave her that icy ring of diamonds I thought you were doing it because you felt sorry for her. You knew she loved you and you wanted her to be happy. You didn’t want her in pain because of you. I never believed your heart was in those words you told her, Harry, I didn’t want to believe they were.

So I waited. I waited in vain until the day when you would come to her senses and realize she wasn’t the one; you didn’t need to marry her in order to make her happy and give up your own happiness in the process. I didn’t realize you had already surrendered your heart and your joy, Harry, I didn’t realize that it was too late and you had nothing to live for anymore.

As I said, words are now my worst enemy, Harry. They’re the reason I’m sitting here in my room now, scratching away with my quill in the moonlight…alone while everyone else is happy and surrounded by friends.

Ron got tired of me turning him down when he asked me out. As they say, a man might love a girl and chase her for some time but if she shows no sign of returning his feelings he’ll give it up. That last night he ever asked me out, he waited by the door for some time, as if making a pivotal decision. It seemed to take him some years to open his mouth or make any movement, and I was about to ask him to leave when he spoke,

‘Hermione,’ He said in a strangled voice, barely more than a whisper, ‘Who is it you’re waiting for, Hermione? At least tell me who I’ve lost you to.’

I thought about it for a long time, Harry, for a long, long time. It seemed to take even longer for me to make up my mind than it had for Ron. But when I had made up my mind, Harry, I finally realized the truth. It wasn’t you I was waiting for, it wasn’t for her to break off the engagement either. It was for those words I had never told you, the ones I have never told anyone.

‘I’m waiting for the words, Ron,’ I had finally answered, ‘The words I have to say.’

Ron watched me closely for several moments before replying quietly, ‘I understand, Hermione. I felt the same way…back in Fourth Year when you were with Viktor.’

We were uncomfortably silent for a long time. But then Ron closed the door and walked back to me. He took hold of my shoulders and hugged me, held me close and whispered in my ear,

‘Hermione, don’t wait too long to say them. Don’t be like me.’

And then he let go of me and walked back to the door without another word, shutting it behind him and stalking out into the pouring rain.

Ron got engaged to Luna a year later, and I’m glad of it. I would never be able to live in peace if I knew he was living his life in pain because of me. He turned to a friend for comfort, and he was enveloped in a love I never could have given him. I am glad for him Harry, I will be glad for him and Luna on their wedding day next week, but Harry, I can never be happy for you on your wedding day.

It sounds incredibly selfish and unfair, but Harry, I know you don’t love her. I know that you marry her out of pity, not out of passion. It would be different if you were happy on your wedding day, but since you marry for sympathy I cannot know this cannot be and I am unhappy – as unhappy as I know you will be next week.

I seem to have said everything I meant to say, Harry, but at the same time it feels as if I have left out so much. My pen scratches dry on the paper and there is little ink left in the stand. The breeze by my window is chilly and the stars seem to shine like small shards of ice. It is a breathtaking scene of beauty, out by my window, yet I am filled with unrest.

I cannot do anything to stop what will happen, I know I shall not ever utter those words Harry, the words that have been caught in my throat for five long years. I know that I will instead stand as stiffly as a statue of ice adorned in long, pale blue robes with white lilies clutched in my pale hands as you slip a golden ring on her finger. I will instead watch with a horrific fixation as she does the same to you, as her slender fingers brush yours and she gives you a hesitant smile. My smile will freeze on my face as if carved in stone and yet no one shall ever know the difference. The teardrops that trickle slowly out of my eyes shall be perceived as happiness for you on your wedding say; The limpness of my hands as she takes her flowers will be seen as bliss at its zenith for you both; As I turn and flee from you both the guests shall laugh and exclaim happily that I am attempting to catch the bouquet.

They will never know that I will be sitting here for the rest of my life, watching the moon wax and wane from my bedside table as I write countless letters that will never reach you, Harry.

No one will ever know how I have cried and raged over you. They will never know how many times I have walked up to your house and held out my hand to knock on the door only to run away again. They will never know that I dream of you all the time; that dreaming is the only way I can ever have you.

No one will ever know because I shall never tell them. My words have left me, Harry, they left when you walked from my life and took all hope of us with you. They have instead found their way into these letters; into the numerous chests I have filled and into the closet I hide them in.

My words, Harry, are my greatest enemy now. They are my only comfort and my only fear. There is something bittersweet about them that I cannot resist, so I sit here hour after hour writing them down only to hide them away again for years to come.

Ironic isn’t it, that my words bring you here every night as I write them, yet they drove you away all those years ago and tore my heart out when they did.”

A/n:

Please review and tell me how I did...even if it was horrible