He sat staring over the frozen lake. Light wind swept through his messy hair causing a shiver to travel down his spine. He could see a few students ice skating, others could be heard in the distant surroundings, laughing, and messing about in the snow. The laughter both annoyed and confused him. How could anyone be so happy when he felt so miserable? Didn’t they understand that Lord Voldemort’s return could only bring pain and suffering? He picked up a small stone and threw it as hard as he could, watching it skid across the frictionless surface of the ice.
The chilled air was starting to turn his fingers numb but he didn’t care. He wished his heart would go numb. He wished the pain would go numb. As much as he wished that all his troubles would just go away, he knew they would not. As he sat rubbing his gloved hands together to keep warm, he thought about returning to the castle. His friends would be wondering where he was.
“Harry, are you okay?” Hermione asked, as she appeared from behind the bush he was so cleverly hiding behind. “Do you want to be alone?”
Harry stared at the sky. The clouds were just as dark and thick as they had been in the storm last night. He closed his eyes and imagined what it would be like to live the life of a normal teenage boy.
“I’ll head back, you know, leave you to think,” murmured Hermione.
The sound of her voice finally penetrated his thoughts. Harry jerked his head around to where Hermione was disappearing behind the bush and called out. “No, it’s okay. Do you want to sit with me?”
Hermione turned around and nodded. “Sure, I’d love to.”
The two of them sat in silence. Harry could see Hermione from the corner of his eye. She sat staring at the ground, deep in thought, absentmindedly tracing pictures in the snow. He wondered if she felt as alone as he did sometimes. She had not faced Lord Voldemort at the Ministry of Magic, but she had been by his side against the Death Eaters. In fact, Hermione and Ron had always been there for him. Even when she had made him angry, he knew deep down her actions were only because she was worried about him, because she cared about him.
The minutes ticked by in silence. Harry didn’t mind. Just the company was enough to comfort him. Half an hour passed and the sun started to go down. The sound of laughter was fading away as students were heading back to the castle for dinner.
“Should we head back and meet Ron for dinner?” Harry asked, secretly hoping Hermione wasn’t hungry.
Despite the cold he was glad to be alone, well not completely, but away from the crowd. For some reason he was also glad Ron wasn’t with them. At this thought Harry felt a kind of foreboding and glanced away in case Hermione could read what he was thinking.
“I’m not really hungry,” said Hermione, still glancing at the ground and if Harry hadn’t been looking the other way he would have noticed her flushed cheeks. Not because she necessarily wanted to be alone with Harry, but because she had been avoiding Ron all day.
Why do I feel like I’m betraying Ron? Harry pondered, his stomach beginning to feel ill. A few more silent minutes passed and his question was answered. Hermione had moved closer to him and had taken his hand in hers. Harry watched her lips move as shadows from the clouds above passed across her delicate face. He felt guilty because he knew how Ron felt about Hermione and he knew that what he felt right now was not just friendship. She was staring at him expectantly now, as if waiting for him to reply.
“Uh, what did you say? I blanked out for a second.”
Hermione once again wore the worried expression he knew so well. “I said if you want to talk about Sirius or anything at all I am here for you.”
Harry felt her squeeze his hand as she bowed her head and began to get to her feet. Her words had brought reality upon him. Before he could stop the words tumbling from his mouth he had said what had been eating slowly away at his insides since that night at the Ministry of Magic.
“It was my fault. He died because of me.”
Hermione sternly pulled Harry to his feet and stared him directly in the eye. “Do not ever say that it was your fault. Sirius died because of Voldemort! He died because people were too ignorant to believe your words of truth that he was innocent all along. He died because he was cooped up in that awful house too long, and he died bravely protecting you and fighting for what he believed was a world worth fighting for. Harry, Sirius would never want you to believe that his death was your fault!”
Harry hung on Hermione’s every word. He had known that Sirius would not want him to blame himself, but until now he had been unable to forgive himself for what had happened. He missed Sirius so much. He had been the only family Harry had left. He had felt so neglected all his life and the love Sirius had shown him, by supporting him, and wanting to be part of his life, had filled a void he hadn’t noticed he had. Now he was gone. Harry felt as if he was destined to be alone.
Hermione somehow knew what he was thinking. She had been watching his reaction to her outburst carefully. “Harry you aren’t alone. You have me…”
Harry looked into her eyes and realised just how endless they seemed. It was as if he could fall into them and he would never hit the bottom. Before she could say another word he had closed the gap between them. He tucked her now snow covered hair behind her ear and leant in to kiss her. It was brief, and their lips had barely touched, but nevertheless he could feel tingles run from his head to his toes. Warmth spread through his body as he slowly pulled back and opened his eyes.
A cool breeze swept over him instantly and the rush brought him back to reality. Hermione stood for a moment transfixed by what had just occurred. Then before Harry knew what was happening she was stepping backwards slowly.
“Harry, I’m so sorry, but I have to go. I’m so sorry.”
And with those words ringing in Harry’s ears she turned and ran towards the castle. Before Harry could even react he noticed Ron standing no more than ten metres behind where Hermione had once been. Words could not describe the anger etched into his face.
“Ron! I…” but Harry did not know what to say and even if he did Ron would not have listened for he had already begun to storm back to the castle.
What had he done? How did he get himself into this mess? He didn’t know what to do. He couldn’t talk to Ron, not with the temper he was in now because of his betrayal. He couldn’t talk to Hermione, he had kissed her. She hadn’t been expecting it, he had just done it. Harry felt dizzy.
The wind picked up and was blowing sharply on his face. If he stayed outside much longer he would freeze. Finally finding legs to stand on, Harry ran as fast as he could to the castle and sprinted straight upstairs to his dorm. He wasn’t hungry, he couldn’t eat now.
When he reached his dorm and found that Ron was thankfully not there, he jumped on his bed and pulled the curtains around him. He needed to think. The past event was playing over and over through his mind, the kiss, Hermione running away, Ron seeing the whole thing. The images flashed through his mind over and over until Harry became so weary he fell asleep, not even the wild rattling of the snow covered window could wake him.