There was a thin line between friendship and romantic love. Most never crossed the line, probably gave it no thought whatsoever, but some did, either by choice or just suddenly being on the other side without realizing how they'd gotten there. There had been a study, though, that had shown that a large percentage of people had at least entertained the idea of a platonic relationship with a member of the opposite sex becoming more.
Hermione had always had male friends. There had been no friends prior to Hogwarts and then she’d met Harry and Ron. There was Neville, Fred, George, Viktor, Seamus, and a half dozen other men she considered friends, ranging from very close to good. She had crossed the line with Ron and considered crossing it with Viktor again after the war but hadn’t.
Everyone else had never tempted her to infatuation or occupied her thoughts in a non-platonic manner. Well, there had been that time she’d caught Seamus walking around naked in the tent they shared during the war, but mostly due to a glimpse of a tattoo on his arse she’d been curious to see closer. There’d also been an occasional stray thought about Fred, if she were being completely honest, but he was like Harry in terms of bring about sibling feelings despite those stray thoughts.
This had snuck up on her. After her failed relationship with Ron, she’d decided romance and love just weren’t meant for her. She wasn’t the type, she supposed, and hadn’t given it any more thought. It wasn’t as if she had men beating down the door to ask her out or anyone interested in her like that. She hadn’t even been able to get a date to a Christmas party without it being platonic with one of her boys. There was just something about her, she guessed, that meant she was destined to be ‘The Friend’.
She preferred that over the possible outcomes of a relationship as she didn’t see how any could possibly work out if she and Ron hadn’t even managed to make it. For years, she’d wanted Ron and never thought about anyone else. The reality had been nice, at first, but it hadn’t lasted. They’d woken up one day and just known that they’d given it a shot but it wasn’t meant to be.
They were close friends, even now, and any previous awkwardness had dissipated rather quickly once they were apart. It had hurt, though, even if it had been a mutual decision, and Hermione wasn’t entirely certain she ever wanted to risk her heart that way again. After all, she and the boy many had thought was her soulmate, to be cliché, hadn’t stayed together so it was highly unlikely someone else would fit with her any better.
There had never been any intention to look for love nor had she wanted to find it. It was just her luck to end up falling for someone who wasn’t interested at all and seemed to have ‘Keep Away’ signs all around his heart. There weren’t many men in the world that would have been so unwise to fall in love with as Bill Weasley. She didn’t know how it happened and had tried to deny it for days after she’d realized what the fluttering in her belly might mean, what the anticipation she felt every time they were to meet, the elation she felt whenever they were together mixed with a nervousness she didn’t quite understand and desire she knew all too well signified, and why her life felt more complete since Bill had come into it.
Denial hadn’t made it go away so Hermione had finally had to acknowledge her feelings for the man who had become her best friend over the past five months. It had been a warm day in June when she’d been unable to ignore the fact that her feelings had developed and changed. They’d gone to the park for a picnic, the food and conversation had been wonderful, and Bill had actually been smiling and had even laughed a few times. He’d kept pushing his hair away from his face and had finally reached over and removed the ribbon from her own hair, grinning at her and winking when she’d protested before he’d told her she looked lovely with her hair down, and proceeded to steal her ribbon.
Instead of taking his comment in a teasing fashion, as he obviously intended, her mouth had gone dry and she’d blushed at hearing him call her lovely and seeing his real smile. There was still grief and she could see the shadows cross his face at times as he obviously remembered his loss, but he was more relaxed now and seemed happy, at least happier than he’d been in awhile. He wasn’t the carefree, dashing and charming Bill that Harry had called cool many years ago and probably never would be exactly that way again, but she could see the change in him as days went by and he began to move on.
In the middle of the park on a pretty summer afternoon, Hermione realized she’d fallen in love with Bill Weasley. Of course, there was no way he could find out. His friendship meant far more than some hopeless infatuation that would eventually pass with time. He was the first man she’d spent time with in years so it was only logical she’d develop feelings for him, she had decided, though she didn’t quite believe that excuse. It was just easier for both of them if she relegated those unexpected feelings to the back of her mind and never let him know.
There were many things that Hermione was good at, and keeping secrets happened to be one of them. Ron had never figured out she fancied him all those years, despite several times she was convinced she’d slipped up and he must know, so she’d just keep her feelings for Bill to herself. She had managed to do so for several weeks now so it shouldn’t be too difficult.
Hermione shook her head and stopped thinking about it. She’d been thinking about it for weeks and knew it was pointless to dwell on something she could never have. It was time to finish getting ready as he’d be there soon. He was always prompt and normally arrived at least five minutes early. It wasn’t as if they had a set time, of course, but it had become routine over the months for him to show up at her flat by nine on Saturday mornings for them to spend the day together.
The wireless predicted a hot July afternoon so Hermione was glad she’d decided to wear shorts and a sleeveless shirt so she’d not get too overheated while walking in the sun. The heat didn’t bother Bill at all, as it was nothing compared to Egypt, and the prat didn’t even seem to sweat. She suspected he knew some obscure charm to prevent sweating but he denied it and laughed at the idea.
After she put on her sandals, she brushed her hair and picked up her ribbon. It was the one he’d taken from her that afternoon, which made her think about him and her fluttering tummy and things she shouldn’t be thinking about. She sighed and pulled her hair back, securing the ribbon so her hair wouldn’t be on her neck or in her face, and then went to the sitting room to wait for Bill.
The thin line between friendship and romantic love no longer existed when she thought about Bill. She’d crossed it and it was so far behind her that she couldn’t even see it anymore. It would be her secret, though, as she couldn’t take the risk of him ever finding out she was in love with him.
The End