My name is Hermione Granger. I am in love with my best friend.

No, I’m not talking about Ron Weasley, as many people have guessed, I’m talking about my other best friend, Harry Potter.

The story of how our relationship never happened went like this: I saved him from a troll in first year, he saved my life in second and third year, won me over in fourth year with his charm and kindness, and stole my heart in fifth year when I knew he needed someone more than anybody I knew.

I wanted to tell him I liked him so bad, it hurt just thinking about it. I told Ron that I kind of had a thing for him, and he got mad at me. I don’t know why; people said he fancied me, which I had guessed, but I didn’t think it was a big thing. He got over it the next day, anyways.

Anyhow, one day I had my friend send him an owl that read, “Hermione really likes you, and we all think you like her back.” The next day my friend received a reply that said, “Well, Hermione’s my friend and that’s it. I don’t like her. No means no!”

My heart shattered. How could this be? I would always count how many times he would look at me if we didn’t sit together, and then I would count how many times the rest of the day when we weren’t together (which was actually surprisingly a lot of time). 117. That’s how many times in three classes he looked at me. Plus, he always (what I considered) flirted with me.

On Monday when I absolutely had to face him, he wouldn’t look at me. I’m not surprised; my eyes were puffed up, my cheeks tear-stained, and I had an awful attitude for a week.

But after a week, he still wouldn’t talk to me, even when I would try to talk to him. It was so maddening I actually apologized for acting like a bi- snob. Being as oblivious as he was, he believed me when I said I didn’t like him anymore.

Too bad he was the only one who believed me.

A month later, when walking away from the greenhouses, Neville and Ron were teasing me about what they would do if I ever became famous.

“Yeah, Hermione, we’re going to blackmail you when you do ‘True Wizard Story,’” Ron had said jokingly.

“Oh yeah, Ron? And how is that?” I countered, grinning like a maniac.

“’Hi! My name is Neville Longbottom, and I’ve known Hermione my whole life,’” Neville said, sounding like a cheesy interviewee. “’I know all of her deepest-darkest secrets, and a list of every guy she’s ever liked, you want it?’”

We erupted with laughter and was only broken by Ron saying, “Yeah, one of them is here with us, wink-wink-nudge-nudge…” Ron elbowed Harry and I grinned.
“Ron, I think the entire world knows I like Harry,” I had said, falling behind a bit as we reached the mob at the castle doors.

“Uh, yeah, I like the past-tense part of that,” Harry had said. The three guys laughed and I faked a laugh.

I slowed down a bit as my breathing was coming in short gasps. I thought I was over him - I almost convinced myself, but I wasn’t. How could he just throw it out there like it was nothing? Like my feelings were nothing? …Like I was nothing…

Saying Harry had broke my heart again was an understatement. He had broken it, ripped it out of my chest, stomped on it, put it through a paper shredder, then tried to put it back again.

I had become depressed again, making Ginny become even more worried about me.

I had almost stopped eating. Almost stopped doing my homework…almost stopped living.

My grades had dropped. One time in Transfiguration, after taking a quiz, I was sitting next to Ron when our quizzes were being passed back out.

“Bet you five galleons that you get fifty out of fifty,” he murmured. I huffed.

I didn’t get fifty out of fifty. Ron gasped and dropped his thirty-eight out of fifty paper and looked at mine.

Twenty-six. That was what I got. And it was because of Harry.

I honestly didn’t care what my grades were. I was still trying to stop myself every night from going into the bathroom with my wand and Avada Kedavra-ing myself in the shower.

It was break one May afternoon, and Harry, Ron, and I were sitting out by our tree when Lavender came up and started yelling at Ron. Something about him acting like an arse and kicking her on purpose.

Lavender had walked off in tears, and left Ron in a bad mood.

That’s when Harry came in, making it all worse.

“Well, Ron, all you have to do is apologize to her because girls are just sensitive, right Hermione?” I was in no mood to deal with his crap.

So I slapped his arm. Hard.

“What was that for?” he yelped.

I stood up, fresh tears coming to my eyes. “For being the world’s biggest, most insensitive hypocrite on Earth.” I walked off, leaving Ron to explain what I had meant.

Almost a month later, me and Harry are still best friends. Of course, he likes one of my best friends now, Ginny, and I know that he will never love me the way I love him, but, as much as I don’t want to accept that, I have to.

Even though Harry has taken up a place in my heart that only he could fill, and even though I know I’ll never get over the love we never had, I’ll always cherish the friendship I have with him. Because it is the closest thing we will ever have to a relationship.

Once you love someone, that someone is forever apart of you.

I don’t think that could be any more true.

My name is Hermione Granger. I am in love with my best friend. And I always will be.