I am not JK Rowling nor do I claim to be the author of the ever-famous Harry Potter series. I am just a story that depicts how Harry will begin to see Hermione in a different light and have feelings for her instead of Ginny, who suddenly has bounced in between Harry and Hermione.

Characters – Those you see in the book series are not mine.

Plot – 100 mine truly!


By Heahrune

Chapter 1: Torn

I thought I saw a man brought to life
He was warm, he came around like he was dignified
He showed me what it was to cry

Well you couldn't be that man I adored
You don't seem to know, don't seem to care what your heart is for
But I don't know him anymore

There's nothing where he used to lie
My conversation has run dry
That's what's going on, nothing's fine I'm torn.

I'm all out of faith, this is how I feel
I'm cold and I am shamed lying naked on the floor
Illusion never changed into something real
I'm wide awake and I can see the perfect sky is torn
You're a little late, I'm already torn

(Torn Natalie Imbruglia)

Only two days after that, Harry couldn't forget that he had pushed Hermione's love aside. The pain she felt, and subsequently the pain he received when he had hurt her. He never should have. He felt he was being honest with her, but was he? Whatever she seemed to feel now, he felt, but now, her happiness was tinged with pain, her sadness tinged with sorrow even deeper, and it seemed to hurt him more.

She seemed to have moved on, but he still felt sick with her pain. She smiled everyday, but he couldn't. Why couldn't he? He was going to get back together with Ginny, the girl he had feelings for in his Sixth Year at Hogwarts. He was sure of that – it was highly likely. They had the whole summer ahead of them. He had found a family with the Weasleys; he found friendship everywhere he went; he had everything he dreamed of.

But was it the right one? Did he make the wrong choices?

Hermione seemed to have moved on, and let go. Why couldn't he? It ought to have been easier, but was was it so difficult, so bitter.

His past was something he couldn't escape from, and he realised that everywhere he looked, since he had met Hermione, she was there. She was there from their first year together up to their last year, and still, she was here to help him. Even though she must have suffered from his rejection of her love, she still found strength to move on and let go.

Could he manage to do both, without her help?

"Unlikely," his mind told him.


"Harry! Can you please do me a favour?" Hermione's voice called.

Harry spun around. He saw Hermione running to him, in her silver-grey fancy dress robes, with her hair in elegantly cascarding curls. "Thank goodness I had found you here in Diagon Alley! So, can you?"

"What?" he asked her, wondering why she was dressed so formally.

"Do me a favour," Hermione repeated impatiently.

"No, why are you dressed like that, here in Diagon Alley? Hermione, do you know –"

Hermione stared at him. "Harry since when did you become the worrier in our group? I thought that was my duty? And yes, I do know what can happen. But I was just in Fred and George's shop. It's not far from here."


"And I'm old enough to take care of myself you know."

Harry forgot. He sensed he was becoming a little overprotective of Hermione. Must be Post-Guilt syndrome.

"Yeah, I know," he said quickly. "So what's the thing you need me to do?"

"I need you to reserve a dinner table for two at the fanciest restaurant you know. I would do it, but I don't want people to know it's under my name. Please will you do it?"

Harry didn't say anything. He was staring at Hermione, as if she was speaking Mermish. But he said:

"Yes, sure."

Hermione gave him a hug, like she used to do, back in Hogwarts. Her trademark, breathless, hug. "I knew I could count on you Harry."

After what seemed like a lifetime, Hermione let go of him, and as she did, Harry saw that she was blusing faintly. It was time to ask her: was she really over him?

"Hermione, I've got to ask you something –"

"Hermione," someone, a man's voice called. It sounded so familiar, yet Harry couldn't discern who it as that was calling Hermione.

"I'm sorry Harry, I've got to go. He needs me."

"He? Who's he?"

"Sorry, Harry, maybe later you can explain to me what the question was."

"But it's really important and –"

"Her – mi ­– one! Where are you?" the man's voice came again.

"Hermione," Harry was now clutching a delicate hand which was covered by those lovely dress robes. "Who is he? Tell me, Hermione. Tell me now."

Hermione tried to wriggle out of his grasp. "Harry, stop it. You're causing a scene."

"Not until you tell me who's the guy calling you."

"What does it matter to you?" Hermione narrowed her eyes at him.

"Just tell me." Harry was now angry.

"Ouch, Harry, you're hurting me." She was now moaning in pain. "Harry, what's gotten into you?" she looked up, tears trickling down her face.

It was then that Harry grew conscious of what he was doing and slowly released Hermione, who – at once – yanked her arm backwards, tears silently falling down her face. "Hermione, I'm –"

But she didn't care to listen to his explanations. She just looked at him with a pained expression – with her eyes so disappointed, so hurt, and Harry was – lost. He culdn't find the right words to say what had gotten into him. Was he jealous? No,he couldn't be. But what else could have been the reason he treated Hermione so – shamelessly.

They stood there, in the same position, with the man's voice continually crying out for Hermione. Rain was now falling. Harry couldn't help but feel torn inside. Hermione's disappointment in him was enough to ake him thoroughly detest himself. Surely there was easier ways of finding out whether she was over him.

But his mind went blank as Hermione, in dripping dress robes, turned away from him, and left him standing in the rain.


Later, at night, Harry apparated to the flat where Hermione was staying with Ginny in London. He was just about to knock at the door, when he heard strange things. He decided (guiltily) to eavesdrop.

"Gin, I told you about him, right?"

"Hermione, I know it's tough on you, but Harry has a reason why he did that, I'm sure. He would never hurt you."

Now why is Hermione discussing about me with Ginny? Harry wondered. Does that mean –

Yes, another voice in his head said. It means she's over you.

Surprisingly, Harry wasn't crushed.

"It hurts, Ginny. Ever since I – I told him, he's been a completely different person. He won't look me in the eye, he gets anxious when I'm around, and he's avoiding me like some disease, and when he does get to speak to me, we're so ceremonious, so formal. I hate it, Ginny. He's so different from what he used to be. He isn't himself anymore. He's like a book which is locked, and the key is missing, and you can't find out what's in it. I wish he'd tell me."

"That's why we have him here, Hermione. To help you take your mind off Harry."

"I know," Hermione said, somewhat awkwardly. "I'm sure he's going to help me. Because after Harry, I don't know whether I can ever –"

Harry could hear what else Hermione was saying. With a sigh, he left, to contemplate what he knew.

-Sue's Not-So Philosophic Reflections-

I'm trying to leave off with a cliffhanger, but darn! I can't. We'll just have to try and be patient with the characters. Yes, and I know you guys are annoyed. So am I.