Just Friends?

Author’s note: Well it’s been quite awhile since I wrote one on my own, but I finally have something for you guys. I hope you like it. I really got used to writing with Heaven on Dirty Dancing and it took awhile to get back in the groove of writing on my own. I don’t know if I’m happy with this, but here it is. Please be kind.

The idea for this and the title came from a very good book called Just Friends by Robyn Sisman. It’s a very good book. This story isn’t going to follow that plotline…just the premise is similar. I’m abandoning the song thing for now…it gets kind of exhausting looking for things to fit…as I go along, if a song fits the chapter I will post it with the chapter, but for now…it’s just the chapter. Tell me what you think, please!

Chapter One

Tuesdays at Eight

It was just gone eight o’clock in the evening and the last thing in the world Harry Potter wanted to be doing was heading to O’Malley’s Pub. He was extremely knackered after a trying day at work and what he wanted most in the world to do was head back to his house and collapse into bed. But, he couldn’t do that. If he did that, he’d have to incur the wrath of one Hermione Jane Granger and having been there before, he wasn’t so willing to go there again. The reason he was heading to the pub on this night was simple. It was Tuesday.

Tuesday nights for the past five years had belonged solely to Ron, Hermione and Harry. The tradition had started right out of Hogwarts. Hermione had been particularly worried that they might lose contact with each other or grow apart as their lives took them in new, but different directions. Both Ron and Harry had tried to assure her that this could never happen, but she’d been adamant about sorting out something that would keep them all together, in some shape or form, at least once a week.

They’d decided to meet every week at a Muggle pub in downtown London. It was near Hermione’s own flat, and with it being a Muggle establishment, they didn’t have to worry about anyone bothering them for an autograph or asking to see Harry’s scar.

Trio Tuesdays (as Ron jokingly referred to them) were not to be missed. Hermione had established the ground rules straightaway. Although Ron scoffed at the idea of having rules for something that was supposed to be fun, he’d consented when Hermione pointed out that there were only two rules to follow. The first rule was that no matter where you were, what you were doing or who you were doing it with, you never let this stop you from being there at O’Malley’s on Tuesday nights at 8 p.m. The second rule was that no outsiders (herein defined as significant others, colleagues, spouses, other friends—either mutual or exclusive---or family members were permitted to, as Hermione put it, “soil the sanctity of this event”. Ron had been particularly bowled over by the wording of that particular rule, but being as it was Hermione, he’d let that go.

So far, no one had ever broken the rules.

Which was why Harry was quite surprised to see that he was the first one to arrive. This never happened. Hermione was, without fail, always the first to arrive. He scanned the room for any sight of her, but couldn’t spot her. Thinking she was probably in the loo, he headed over to their usual table in the back and took off his coat and hung it casually over his chair.

He hadn’t even been sitting a minute when he heard a familiar voice from behind.

“I know I’m late, but…“ Ron Weasley’s voice trailed off when he saw that Harry was alone at the table. “Where’s Hermione?”

“Don’t know,” Harry said, shrugging his shoulders. “I just got here myself. Maybe she’s in the loo?”

“Good,” Ron said, exhaling and taking a seat across from Harry. “If she comes out we can say we were here the entire time.”

“She’ll see right through us,” Harry pointed out.

“You’re probably right,” Ron said frowning.

Ten minutes later and there was still no Hermione. Ron was getting a little impatient. He and Harry had made the obligatory small talk, catching up on the day’s events and talking a bit about Quidditch.

“She’s late,” Ron said, again scanning around the pub for some sign of their best friend. “She’s never late. She’s always the first to arrive.”

“She’ll be here,” Harry said.

“You know,” Ron said, with a wicked gleam in his eyes, “I’d almost love it if she didn’t show up just so I could have a go at her about it. You do remember that time I had that stomach flu?”

Harry nodded and stifled a laugh. He knew where this was going.

“I was sick as a dog and was throwing up everything I think I’d ever eaten in my life,” Ron said dramatically.

“That’s a lot of food then,” Harry said, under his breath.

Ron who had either not heard this comment or chosen to ignore it continued with his recollection.

“You remember how she called me and told that I had to at least put in an appearance or she was never going to speak to me again. So, I went on her little guilt trip and showed up here, but spent the better part of the evening in the loo praying over the porcelain god.”

Harry chortled. “Well, yes, but the important thing, Ron, is that you did show up.”

Ron frowned. “I’m going to go and place a drink order. You want anything?”

“Yeah,” Harry said, reaching into his pocket for his wallet, but Ron shook his head.

“I’ve got this round,” he said good-naturedly. “You want the usual?”

Harry nodded and watched as Ron made his way toward the bar. Again, Harry looked around the bar for any sign of Hermione. He hadn’t said this to Ron, but he was starting to worry himself. Ron was right. It wasn’t like Hermione to be late.

He silently chastised himself for thinking the worst straightaway. Hermione was always telling him that he didn’t always have to look for the danger in everything. She’d probably just gotten hung up at work, Harry thought to himself.

Hermione worked in the Ministry of Magic in the Department of International Magical Cooperation. She was the head researcher and archivist for the International Magic Office of Law. The job was something that she not only excelled at, but something she enjoyed. Harry teased her that she was the only 23-year old that he knew who was ecstatic at the prospect of being cooped up in a library poring over thick tomes.

She wasn’t all work and no play, though. For the past two years, she’d been involved with Brian Finley, an Auror she’d met through Harry. They’d moved in together nearly a year after they’d started dating, much to Hermione’s parents’ chagrin.

If you had asked anyone at Hogwarts who would be the least likely to get married straight out of school, they wouldn’t have hesitated to name Ron Weasley at the top of the list. But, that was before he’d started dating Luna Lovegood. Luna had spent the summer before her seventh year at Hogwarts at The Burrow and to her delight and Ron’s surprise, she and Ron grew close. It wasn’t too long before they were seriously dating. Ron had been nearly impossible to deal with when Luna had gone back to school and he was away playing Quidditch. Distance had been hard for the couple, but it made them appreciate what they’d found in each other. When Luna graduated from Hogwarts, Ron proposed and a few months later, the two of them were married in a quiet ceremony at The Burrow. A year later, the two of them were parents. In order to be closer to his family, Ron quit Quidditch and took a job with his dad at The Ministry. He begrudgingly admitted that he liked the job, which only pleased both Luna and his mother.

Harry was quite happy with his own life. Although he wasn’t dating anyone, he had his friends and his job to keep him occupied. He’d been accepted into the Auror training program right out of Hogwarts and quickly rose up the ranks.

There were many reasons as to why he’d not settled down with one woman yet. First and foremost with him being who he was, he had to be quite selective in the women he dated. He’d found out the hard way that a number of them were only interested in snagging “The Boy Who Lived” and not plain, old Harry. Another reason was that, he figured he was still young. He’d spent the majority of his childhood and teenage years, either preparing to battle or battling the most powerful dark wizard. Now that Voldemort had been vanquished, Harry figured it was time to have a little fun. He wasn’t looking for a commitment, but deep down he knew that someday, he wanted to have a wife and a family of his own. He could see that down the road, but for now, he was content to just play the field.

Harry had never told anyone about this, but he sort of measured every girl he dated against Hermione. It made sense, he would tell himself, as she was his closest female friend. None of the girls he dated in the past could hold a candle to her. None of them challenged him like Hermione. None of them knew him the way Hermione did. While he knew this was unfair to judge other women by who they weren’t instead of whom they were, he couldn’t help it. He’d tried not to do it, but had failed each time.

Anyway you looked at it, Hermione was a good catch. If Harry had been half as smart as he thought he was, he’d have made a move on her when he’d had the chance, but he’d told himself that if they’d broken up, he might have lost the best friend he’d ever had. So, he’d decided not to pursue any romantic feelings he may have harbored for Hermione. Besides, he’d had a ringside seat for the disaster that was Ron and Hermione’s two-week relationship. Their relationship during sixth year consisted mainly of study sessions and trips to Hogsmeade. Harry had been caught in the middle between the two of them and they’d both used him as a sounding board. He was quite relieved when the two of them decided that they made much more sense as friends than they ever could as a couple.

“Here you are,” Ron said, coming back to the table and thus breaking Harry out of his reverie. He handed Harry a pint of bitter and sat down. “So still no sign of our Miss Granger?”

Harry shook his head.

“I’m starving,” Ron said, frowning. “I knew I should have just eaten with Luna, but I thought we’d be getting something here so I didn’t. And then Hermione has to go and do this.”

He greedily grabbed for a handful of peanuts from the basket in the middle of the table and shoved them into his mouth.

“She can’t expect me to wait for her,” Ron said, after Harry gave him a disapproving look. “It’s just some peanuts. Hermione’s lucky we haven’t already ordered.”

Just then, Harry looked up to see Hermione making her way toward them. Ron, however, had no idea, as his back was to Hermione.

“So,” Harry said, stealing a glance at Hermione as she came closer toward them, “when she gets here, you’re going to tell her off for being late?”

Ron nodded as he took another handful of peanuts from the basket. “You’re damn right I am! She’s always the one talking about being prompt and being on time and all that rubbish, but look at her now. She’s fifteen minutes late! If she doesn’t show up, I’m not going to let her hear the end of it.”

Hermione had caught the tail end of his statement and stifled a laugh as she stood behind Ron. With a wink at Harry, she slapped Ron hard on the back. Ron nearly jumped out of his seat and turned around and scowled at his friend.

“Good thing for you that I did show up,” Hermione said with a grin. She took her jacket off and kissed Harry’s cheek before sitting down beside him.

“Sorry that I’m late you guys,” she began apologetically. “I had to stop by the flat on my way home from work and Brian was there…”

“Please, please, please don’t disgust me with some sex story,” Ron interjected.

Hermione glared at him. “Okay, Ron. For one thing, that isn’t the reason why I was late. And for another, when have you ever heard me to discuss that sort of thing with either of you?”

Ron shrugged. “So what was the real reason for your tardiness? I’d hate to have to deduct 50 points from Gryffindor.”

Hermione gave him her trademark Granger eye roll.

“What are you drinking tonight, Hermione?” Harry asked, hoping that the change of subject would prevent yet another row between the self-proclaimed King and Queen of Banter.

Hermione thought for a moment. “I’ll just have some cocoa, please.”

Harry laughed. In the entire time he’d known her, he’d only seen Hermione drunk once. Graduation night, she’d had a few pints, but with her tolerance being so low, that was all it took. The next morning, she’d gotten so sick, that she’d vowed never to do it again. The only thing alcoholic Harry had seen her drink since then was some champagne at Ron and Luna’s wedding.

Harry stopped a waitress and gave her Hermione’s order.

Hermione picked up a menu and absently looked through it. “So, have you guys decided what you want to eat tonight?”

Harry grabbed the menu out of her hands and stared at her. “Out with it, Hermione. What made you so late?”

She looked sheepishly between her two friends. “Can’t a girl just be late every now and then?”

“A girl can, yes,” Ron said with a laugh. “You, on the other hand, cannot.”

Harry could tell that something was bothering Hermione. He could see it in her eyes, but she didn’t seem all that willing to talk about it.

“Let me guess,” Ron said excitedly. He gave Hermione a goofy grin. “Flourish & Blotts finally received the newest edition of Hogwarts: a History and you had to be the first to have it!”

Hermione let out a hollow laugh and then shook her head.

“No,” Ron asked bemused. ‘Okay, give me a minute. It’ll come to me.”

“A-ha!” he said a moment later. “I’ve got it. You finally did it, Hermione! You’ve actually gotten someone to join SPEW without having to force or guilt them into it.”

Hermione scowled at him. “It’s not SPEW,” she said scathingly. “It’s---“

“S-P-E-W,” Ron and Harry said together.

“And I never guilt tripped or forced anyone into it,” Hermione said defensively. She knew Ron would never take her side so she looked to Harry. “Right?”

Harry scratched the back of his neck and looked away as Ron grinned triumphantly.

Hermione sighed. “Well, it’s not that. I wasn’t going to say anything, but—“

“What?”

Hermione averted her eyes. “Brian and I—“

“Brian and you, what?” Harry asked.

“You’re getting married?” Ron guessed.

Hermione laughed loudly. “No, you can pretty much rule that out.”

“What then?” Ron asked.

Hermione looked away and for the first time since it had actually happened, she felt tears coming to her eyes. She hadn’t cried when they’d had their big argument a few hours ago, but now as she was about to relive it for her two best friends, the raw emotion of it was coming at her full force.

“Mione?” Harry asked gently. He put a hand on her arm. “What is it?”

“Brian and I broke up,” she said quietly.

“What?” Ron asked. “When?”

“Just now,” Hermione said softly. “We had this huge fight right before I came here and it was horrible. He said some really hateful things and I just—“her voice trailed off as she started to really cry. Harry scooted his chair closer to hers and wrapped her up in his arms.

“What did he say?” Harry asked, patting her comfortingly on the back.

Hermione’s breath caught in her throat. She wasn’t sure if she should be completely honest with Harry and Ron about this, since it involved them, particularly Harry. She didn’t want Harry to think that this had been his fault in any way.

She pulled away from Harry and wiped a tear from her cheek. “It’s nothing, really.”

Ron and Harry exchanged a look. “Yes, it is. What did he say?” Harry asked. “You can tell us.”

Hermione sighed. “Things haven’t been that great between us for quite some time, actually. Lately, it seemed as if all we were doing is arguing.”

As she looked between her two friends, she knew she’d never tell them that she and Brian had only been intimate one time in the past month. This was quite a switch from the beginning of their relationship when they’d barely been able to keep their hands off of each other. They’d always been able to talk to each other, too, and had shared in each other’s accomplishments. That had all changed recently when Brian’s insecurities flared up yet again. This had been a sore spot in their relationship almost from day one. He’d joked that he felt like an intruder on the “Dream Team”, but Hermione had always done her best to include him. She’d even thought he understood about the Tuesday night get-togethers, but he’d soured on them over the past couple of months. He’d made snide comments about her not having time for him, but always having time for Harry and Ron. He especially didn’t like Harry, which was quite odd for Hermione since Harry was the one who introduced her to Brian.

She’d had spent the better part of the last two months trying to assure Brian that is was him that she loved and it was him that she wanted to be with. She told him that Harry was her friend. Tonight, she’d even told him that Harry was her best friend and if he asked her to choose between them, he wouldn’t like her answer. That had been the straw that broke the camel’s back as Brian had gone on and on about not wanting to spend the rest of his life trying to measure up to Harry Potter. Hermione had told him that he was being ridiculous. She could still remember telling him that she and Harry had to deal with this sort of speculation about their relationship for years. First it was Rita Skeeter, then Viktor Krum, their schoolmates, even teachers. Brian had laughed at her, which had only infuriated Hermione even more. She could still hear the cold words he’d said to her as she’d left the flat.

“Maybe they’ve seen all too clearly what you don’t want to admit,” he’d said.

She could feel the anger boiling up in her as those words echoed in her head.

“We just decided to cut our losses,” she said simply. She knew Harry and Ron didn’t buy this at all, just as she wouldn’t have if the situation was reversed and one of them was going through a breakup.

“Okay,” Harry said softly. He touched Hermione’s cheek. “You don’t want to talk about it now, but when you do, we’ll be here for you.”

“Thanks,” Hermione said gratefully. She could always count on Harry.

“I’m not going back there tonight,” she said resolutely. “I thought I’d go back to my parents.”

She groaned. “I can just hear my parents going on and on about how I should have known better. That I shouldn’t have moved in with someone and blah-blah-blah.”

“You don’t have to go to your parents’’,” Harry said resolutely. “Come home with me.”

Hermione looked at Harry and shook her head. “I can’t do that, Harry!”

“Like hell you can’t!” Harry retorted. “You’re coming home with me and that’s the end of it. Come on, ‘Mione. I have like 40 rooms at Grimmauld Place. You can have your pick. We’ll even go by the shops on the way home and pick you up some ice cream.”

“Why?” Hermione asked, laughing in spite of herself. “You’ve watched too much telly and movies where the girl consoles herself with ice cream after a breakup.”

“Since when do you need an excuse to eat ice cream?” Ron said seriously. “Or to eat anything really.”

“Ignore him,” Harry said with a laugh. “Remember he was the emotional depth of a teaspoon.”

Hermione giggled. She didn’t know what she’d do without either of them.

“So what do you say, Hermione?” Harry asked, giving her his best flirtatious smile. “Are you coming home with me, or not?”

Hermione thought about this for a moment. If this got back to Brian, it would only confirm in his mind what he already thought. But, truth be told, she didn’t want to be alone tonight. And she didn’t want to hear her parents’ “I told you so” lectures all evening.

“Throw in some chocolate chip cookie dough ice cream and I’m all yours,” Hermione said with a grin.

Harry looked triumphantly at Ron.

“Never fails,” he said.

“Okay, okay,” Ron said, shaking his head. “All this talk about ice cream has me hungry. Can we eat now?”

Hermione nodded. “Yes, Ron. We can eat now.”

With that, Ron nearly jumped out of his chair to go place his food order. Hermione and Harry exchanged a laugh.

“Thank you,” Hermione said softly to Harry. He looked at her. “For what?”

“For being you,” she said with a smile. “I don’t know what I’d do without you.”

Author’s note: I can’t believe the response I got on the first chapter…made me very, very, very happy. I hope you guys like this second chapter…there’s a little bit of cameo appearance of something that I used in my last story…Sweet Home London….which is unrelated to this story, but what it was based on, makes a small appearance in this chapter. Also, couldn’t resist a lyric from a song on this one…told you I’d do that from time to time, didn’t I?

Chapter Two

What a Fool Believes

But what a fool believes ... he sees 

No wise man has the power to reason away 

                    (What a Fool Believes/Michael McDonald) 

After saying a quick goodbye to Ron at O’Malley’s, Harry saw Hermione back to 12 Grimmauld Place. As soon as she’d sorted out which of the bedrooms she wanted to stay in, Harry excused himself and said he had to pop out for a moment, but would return as quickly as possible and for her not to go to sleep.

She knew that wasn’t going to be a problem. She wasn’t sleepy at all. Since she had no clothes to change into, Harry offered to let her borrow a pair of his pyjama bottoms and a t-shirt. They were awfully big on her, but they were a great relief from her clothes, which now reeked of cigarette smoke from the pub.

She’d washed her face and brushed her teeth. As a child of dentists, she’d always carried a toothbrush and floss in her purse just in case. She’d never thought it would have come in quite as handy as it did tonight. She was just coming downstairs when she heard Harry coming back inside. He carried two plastic bags and smiled warmly at her.

“What have you got there?” she asked, looking curiously at the two bags.

“Well,” Harry said, beckoning her to follow him as he made his way into the kitchen. “I have ice cream as promised and a movie for us to watch.”

Hermione reached for the bag, but Harry was too quick for her and pulled it away just in time.

“What did you get?” she asked. Though, if history was any indication, it was probably something bloody and scary and disgusting, which was what his and Ron’s taste in movies seemed to go toward. If it wasn’t that, it was probably some war epic that would have Hermione fast asleep before the opening credits finished.

He grinned mischievously at her as he held the bag and walked over to the butcher block table and pulled two spoons from the drawer. Hermione, seeking to be helpful, walked over to the cabinet to pull down two bowls and he shook his head at her.

“Don’t you know anything about this at all?” he asked her.

“What?” she asked bemused.

“We have to eat this straight from the container,” he said matter-of-factly. He took her hand and led her from the kitchen into the sitting room.

”Sit,” he said firmly.

Hermione raised an eyebrow at him, but seeing the stern expression on his face she sat down on the sofa and curled her legs underneath her. She was trying not to laugh as she watched him pull the DVD case from the bag and place it gingerly inside the player. He picked up the remote and turned the television on and walked over to the sofa and took a seat beside his friend.

“The ice cream,” Hermione said pointedly at Harry. “Before it turns into milk, Harry.”

“Oh, right,” he said, pulling the small container from the bag and laughing as Hermione greedily reached for it.

“It doesn’t get better than this,” she said softly, dipping her spoon into the carton. “Eating ice cream with my best friend as I suffer through a breakup. Though, to be honest, if this were just like the movies, you’d be female and we’d finish off the evening by giving each other makeovers.”

Harry thought about this for a moment. He looked at Hermione and in all serious said, “I hope you aren’t planning on that for you and I because I will tell you this, Hermione. You’re my best friend and all, but there are limits to what I will do for you. Sorry to burst your bubble, but that’s one of them.”

“Not even a little facial?” she asked teasingly.

“No and no exfoliation, either,” he said with a chuckle.

”Spoilsport,” she retorted with a grin.

They sat in silence, eating bites of ice cream when the opening credits of the film Harry had chosen came on the screen. Expecting to see a battle scene straightaway, Hermione was quite pleased to see that it was one of her favorite films…Sweet Home Alabama. She turned and looked, surprised, at Harry.

“What?” he asked turning to face her.

“You got this for me, didn’t you?” she asked pleased.

“No,” he said deadpan. “I enjoy chick flicks as much as the next guy. Besides, I took a girl I dated to see this at the theatre.”

Hermione hit him hard on the shoulder. “That was me, you idiot!”

“Was it?” Harry said, pretending to think really hard about this. “Are you sure?”

“Yes,” she said rolling her eyes. “Don’t you remember? I kept shushing you because you kept making snide comments in my ear the whole time?”

“It’s all coming painfully back to me now,” Harry said, remembering how Hermione had threatened him with bodily harm with one flick of her wand.

Hermione again playfully hit him in the arm.

“Would you please restrain yourself from wanting to touch me, Miss Granger?” Harry asked, rolling his eyes just like Hermione did. “I am trying to watch this movie.”

Hermione laughed and then took another bite of ice cream as she settled comfortably next to Harry to watch the movie.

Nearly two hours later, she and Harry had finished the ice cream and the movie. Hermione had enjoyed the movie and Harry’s company and she knew that although he hadn’t asked her what happened with Brian, she could tell that he was dying to know. It was in the way he kept looking at her and seemed as if he was about to say something and would stop himself when she glanced his way. If she wasn’t feeling so maudlin right now about the whole breakup, she would find it amusing and quite adorable.

“It’s nearly one in the morning,” Harry said softly as Hermione rested her head on his shoulder. She was a little tired, but she wasn’t quite ready to go to bed just yet. She wasn’t ready to be alone to mull over the last few hours.

“Go ahead and ask,” she said softly.

“Ask what?”

“You want to know why Brian and I broke up.”

“Not unless you want to tell me,” he replied.

Hermione lifted her head from his shoulder and gave him that “Don’t try to fool me, Potter” look.

“Okay,” he admitted. “I would like to know, but it’s only because I feel partly at fault because I was the one who introduced the two of you.”

Hermione sighed. “It wasn’t your fault, Harry. Things were going wrong for Brian and me for a long time. Things just kind of came to a head tonight and we faced up to something that neither of us wanted to admit for a long time.”

Harry didn’t tell Hermione that although he and Brian worked together and on the surface, he thought him a nice enough lad. But, deep down Harry didn’t like Brian for some reason. He just seemed too perfect. He knew all the right things to say and all the right things to do, whether it came to his job or to Hermione. Harry hadn’t actually thought that Hermione would fall for Brian’s lines, but to his surprise, she had. But, he’d accepted the fact that Brian liked Hermione and Hermione liked Brian.

Like her parents, he, too, had reservations about Brian and Hermione moving in together. He’d not voiced this to Hermione, though. He’d dutifully listened as any best friend would when she’d complained about how unreasonable her parents were being about this. He could still remember watching her pace in this very room as she ranted and raved about how archaic and old-fashioned her parents were being about the whole situation.

Personally, he’d seen her moving in with Brian as an act of rebellion on Hermione’s part. She’d always been the perfect daughter---getting the perfect marks, doing the right thing, acting responsible. Her choice in suitors was even excellent. Brian was every parent’s dream for their daughter. He was polite, charming, handsome, and made a decent living in a job he loved. Hermione’s parents liked Brian, but what they didn’t like was his living with their daughter without putting a ring on her finger. Harry saw her decision to move in with Brian as someway of acting out against her parents. Of course, he hadn’t told her this. She’d have hexed him into next century if he’d told her that. He was many things, but stupid wasn’t one of them.

“Harry?”

Harry focused his attention back on Hermione who was staring at him.

“Where’d you go just then?” she asked him with a laugh. “You looked lost in your thoughts.”

“Sorry,” he said, focusing on her.

“It’s okay,” she shrugged. “If I tell you this, you have to promise to not get angry or blame yourself because you didn’t have anything to do with it. Brian’s just insecure.”

Harry’s eyes narrowed. “So you’re saying that I had something to do with this?”

Hermione bit her bottom lip and then nodded. When she saw the look on Harry’s face, she quickly said, “But only inadvertently. The bigger problem lies with Brian, Harry. Not you.”

Hermione twirled a strand of her hair absently around her finger. “You know how competitive he is, right? You remember that dinner party at the Burrow where you and the rest of the lads went out for a pickup game of Quidditch?”

“Yeah,” Harry asked, wondering why she was bringing this up. “That game went on for nearly four hours.”

Hermione nodded. “He was so mad when you ended up winning. He doesn’t like to lose, especially to you.”

“Are you saying I should have thrown the game?” Harry asked defensively.

Hermione shook her head. “No, of course not. I’m just saying that he knew how close you and I are.”

“And Ron, too,” she added quickly. “But, especially you and I. He said he felt like he was fighting a losing battle. In the past, I was able to reassure him that I loved him and that I wanted to be with him, but he—“

“He thought you fancied me?” Harry asked. He resisted the urge to roll his eyes. No wonder Brian lately looked as if he wanted to chop Harry’s head off and feed it to a basilisk.

“And vice versa,” Hermione continued. “He said that you and I had this bond that no one could break through and that we were fooling ourselves into thinking that we were only friends.”

She gave out a hollow laugh, but didn’t notice that Harry wasn’t laughing.

“I told him about how Viktor and that awful Skeeter woman and some of our friends used to say that about us, but that is was all unfounded and he said that I was refusing to see what everyone else saw so clearly.”

“That’s rubbish,” Harry said angrily. He had a good mind to tell Brian Finley off the next time he saw him.

“I asked him why he didn’t seem to be getting so jealous over Ron since Ron was the one that I actually dated,” Hermione said, her own anger rising up in her again as she remembered how unreasonable Brian had been. “It was like he wanted me to choose. And I’m not going to do that, Harry. We’ve been through too much together. I’m not going to give up a friendship that means so much to me…not for anyone.”

Harry stared back at Hermione, touched by her heartfelt words. He, too, felt the exact way about her.

”I feel the same,” he said sincerely.

Hermione smiled. Harry opened his arms and she let herself melt into his warm, comforting embrace. They stayed like that for a few moments.

”It’s getting late,” Hermione said, reluctantly pulling away. “I better get to bed.”

“Okay,” Harry said, grabbing the ice cream container and spoons from the coffee table. “Need me to tuck you in?”

She laughed. “I think I can manage.”

She started to walk away, but stopped just before reaching the stairs.

“Harry?” she called back to him.

“Yeah?” he asked, coming around the corner.

“Thanks,” she said. “And not just for tonight, either. For everything. I don’t know what I’d do without you.”

“I think you’d be okay,” he teased. “I, on the other hand, would probably be a basket case who flunked out of Hogwarts.”

Hermione smiled. “Good night, Harry.”

“Good night, Hermione.”

***********

Hermione knew that she wouldn’t be able to live in the same clothes for the rest of her life. There was no way around it. She had to go back to her flat and pack her things up. She decided to take a personal day from work and enlisted the help of Ginny and Luna to help her pack up. Harry had offered to help, too, but Hermione had politely declined. He had already done so much. Even though she knew Brian wouldn’t be home this morning, she didn’t want the chance of he and Harry getting into a row if he came home unexpectedly to find his ex-girlfriend moving out of their flat with the help of the man he saw as the reason they weren’t still together.

After a quick bite to eat, the three girls set off for Hermione’s flat. Before long, the three of them were ensconced in packing and boxes littered the room. Hermione couldn’t believe how messy Brian had allowed things to get in one day. His clothes were strewn haphazardly about. Last night’s dishes were still in the sink and he’d not bothered to mop up the crumbs on the counter. Hermione resisted the urge to clean up. This wasn’t her home anymore, she told herself.

Luna was in charge of sorting the CD collection and was calling off titles to Hermione as she went through the collection.

“I’m getting the impression that you were the one who liked music,” Luna asked, when she’d finished. Of the 100 compact discs, only three remained on the shelf. The rest were enclosed in a box.

“Yeah,” Hermione said, coming out of the bedroom, carrying a suitcase. “Well, most of them were mine to begin with. He just listened to whatever. I should have known something was up when he said he didn’t like The Beatles.”

Luna’s mouth dropped. “They should throw his arse out of Britain for something like that.”

“I agree,” Ginny said, coming from the bathroom. “I have all your toiletries. Shampoos, lotions, etcetera.”

Hermione sighed and sat down on the sofa. “I never realized how much stuff I had until I had to do this. I really should sort through it all when I get it back to Harry’s and throw some of it out.”

Ginny and Luna exchanged knowing looks. While Hermione was neat to a fault, she was also a notorious pack rat. She never got rid of anything. It was one of her most endearing qualities.

“I’m going to do it this time,” Hermione said defensively.

“Sure,” Ginny said, plopping down on the sofa beside Hermione.

“So,” Luna said hesitantly. “It’s great that Harry’s letting you move in.”

“He’s not letting me move in!” Hermione said, sitting up. “He’s just letting me stay with him until I find a place of my own.”

“Uh-huh,” Ginny said, trying to stave off the smile that was playing on her lips.

“What’s that tone for?” Hermione asked, leaning back again on the sofa, and closing her eyes.

“Nothing,” Ginny said sing-song.

“Not you, too,” Hermione said, rolling her eyes. “Listen, for the umpteenth time, Harry Potter and I are just friends. We’re best friends. Contrary to popular belief, a man and a woman can be best friends and not have sex and love and all the rest of that rubbish get in the way. I don’t know how many ways I can say it. No one wants to believe me!”

Luna and Ginny exchanged knowing looks again, but this time, Hermione didn’t see it. She’d put her head in her hands.

It was silent for a moment and the three women sat there in the sitting room, one emotionally drained.

Hermione exhaled sharply and then got to her feet. “Back to work,” she said with a forced smile. She walked into the bedroom and closed the door gingerly behind her.

Luna and Ginny looked at each other.

“Me thinks the lady doth protest too much,” Luna whispered.

“You think?” Ginny asked, getting to her feet and walking over to one of the bookshelves and starting to pack some of the books away.

“Do you think she’s okay?” Luna asked concerned.

Ginny looked thoughtful for a moment. “Yeah, I think so. I’ve been listening to her same argument about her ‘non-feelings’ for Harry for years.”

“And you think it’s all an act?” Luna asked.

“Oh, yeah,” Ginny said, nodding. “Big time. The two of them are perfect for each other. Everyone can see it. The only two who can’t or won’t are Harry and Hermione.”

“You never know,” Luna said softly. “They’re all alone in that big house together.”

“Harry’d never take advantage of her,” Ginny said. “He’s too noble for something like that.”

“I know that,” Luna replied. “I just mean that they’ll be in close quarters. It could bring them closer together.”

“Let’s hope so,” Ginny said with a grin. “Hopefully this will be the last time we ever have to help Hermione move.”

*****************

Harry and Dean Thomas were chatting about Quidditch while they waited for the debriefing to begin. These meetings were held every Wednesday and every Auror had to attend one of the two meetings---one was scheduled in the morning and the other was scheduled in the afternoon.

“Did you hear about the seeker the Cannons are trying to get?” Dean was asking Harry. “Apparently, he’s this egomaniac who is trying to get the owners of the team to cough up an obscene amount of money before he’ll sign any contract. Seamus’ was telling me the other day that if the guy wasn’t so damn talented they wouldn’t even bother.”

Their schoolmate Seamus Finnegan worked in promotions for the Chudley Cannons.

“He’s that bloke from Bulgaria?” Harry asked. He remembered reading about him in The Daily Prophet just this morning. “He played with Krum at one time, didn’t he?”

“Yeah,” Dean said, nodding his head. Dean launched into a description of the player’s statistics, but Harry tuned him out, as he saw someone walking through the doors…Brian.

Brian’s gaze was cool and angry as he looked at Harry.

”Finley?” Dean asked, ushering for Brian to come over and join their discussion. “You’ve heard about that seeker, haven’t you?”

Brian reluctantly walked over to where Dean and Harry sat and avoided looking at Harry as he listened to what Dean was asking him.

“I hadn’t heard,” Brian said coolly. “I-I had other things on my mind these past few days.”

There was an awkward silence that was broken only when Dean asked the one question that he shouldn’t have. But, in all fairness, he had no idea that just the night before Brian and Hermione had broken things off.

“So how’s Hermione?” Dean asked. “I haven’t seen too much of her lately. I expect she’d down in the archives hunched over a book, right? Some things never change—“

“I don’t know how Hermione is,” Brian interjected. “Why don’t you ask Potter? He should know.”

“What the hell is that supposed to mean?” Harry retorted angrily.

“You know damn well what it means!” Brian exclaimed. “When she left last night, I had a feeling she’d go running to you.”

Harry didn’t say anything. He stared back at Brian, trying to keep his emotions in check. Out of his respect for Hermione, he was trying to keep his temper under control.

“I guess you were all too willing to play the rebound guy, huh? The Boy Who Lived coming to the rescue of his best girl,” Brian said angrily. “But you know what I can’t get, Harry? You had her all to yourself for how many years? Six or seven? Never made a move on her, not even once. But, you let someone else show interest, and he can’t take it. He doesn’t want the girl until someone else does. That’s just like you, Potter. And Hermione can’t even see it herself.”

Harry got right in Brian’s face as Dean scrambled to his feet to keep them apart. Harry shrugged Dean’s arm from his shoulder and stared down Brian.

“You listen to me, Finley,” Harry said crossly. “You have no idea what you’re talking about. If you really think like that you don’t know Hermione at all. In case you hadn’t noticed, she isn’t some prize you won at a carnival. She’s a woman…and yes, I think she’s the best one I’ve ever known. If that makes you uncomfortable, that’s your cross to bear. She’s my best friend. She was before you came into the picture and she always will be. Stay the hell away from her. You got that, Brian?”

“Break it up,” Kingsley Shacklebolt said, coming into the room, followed closely by Remus Lupin. The two men lead the division and were none too pleased to see Harry and Brian about to fight each other.

“I SAID BREAK IT UP!” Kingsley boomed loudly, commanding the attention of not only Harry and Brian, but every person in the room. Harry gave one last menacing glare to Brian before taking his seat beside Dean.

“What the hell just happened here?” Dean asked Harry.

“Nothing,” Harry said quietly.

“You and Hermione, huh?” Dean asked. “I had a feeling—“

“Sod off!” Harry retorted and turned his attention to Kingsley and Lupin as they began the meeting. The two men might as well have been talking Japanese for all Harry listened. He was seething as he sat there. Brian Finley was a first-class git and as far as Harry was concerned, Hermione was lucky to be rid of him once and for all.

Brian Finley has no idea what he’s talking about, Harry told himself.

When the meeting was over, Harry was following his colleagues out the door when Lupin called his name. To Harry’s dismay, he also heard Lupin call Brian’s name, too.

When the room was cleared, save for Harry and Brian, Lupin looked at the two men.

“What happened in here earlier?” he asked.

Both Harry and Brian shrugged.

“I see,” Lupin said, folding his arms. “Well, let’s just see that it doesn’t happen again, am I understood?”

Both Harry and Brian nodded, albeit reluctantly.

“Alright,” Lupin said. “You can go. Harry, might have a quick word?”

Brian smirked before walking out of the room. When the door closed behind him, Harry grumbled.

“Can’t we transfer that wanker to Greenland or Siberia?” Harry asked his mentor.

“Not without good reason,” Lupin said, with a laugh.

“Oh, I’ve got plenty of reasons,” Harry retorted.

“Yeah,” Lupin said, with a knowing smile. “I bet you do. And I bet they all have one thing in common…Hermione. Am I right?”

“How did you know?”

“You don’t have to be Sybill Trelawney to have seen that,” Lupin said. “You and Finley have never really gotten along too well…even before Hermione. Frankly, I never understood why you set them up.”

“I didn’t,” Harry said defensively. “I just introduced them. I didn’t set out to be a matchmaker, Remus.”

Before Lupin could respond, Harry was shaking his head. “I can’t believe this. You know Hermione’s my friend, Remus. I was sticking up with her when her ex-boyfriend there had some rather uncalled for comments about our relationship…I mean, our friendship. Look, are we done here?”

Remus nodded. “Yes, of course.”

“Okay then,” Harry mumbled. Without a goodbye, he left Lupin staring after him.

Lupin cast his eyes upward and laughed. “Sirius, if you can hear me, you owe me 200 galleons. What was the bet again? Ah, yes. You said they’d be 20 before they’d recognize what was right in front of them. I said it’d be before they were 30.”

He chuckled as he picked up his cloak. “Let’s hope we don’t have to wait another 7 years before our boy wises up.”

(Author’s note: In this story, Harry and Hermione are 23 years old)

Author’s note: I’m really glad that you guys are liking this one. This has to be the most light-hearted one I’ve written. I hope you like this chapter…things are slow going, but hopefully our two pumpkins will eventually see the light. A special thanks to Ash for helping me out and letting me bounce ideas off of her for this one. And a special thanks to Heaven as well. It’s hard to write without her!

Oh and the song that appears toward end of chapter is by Aretha Franklin—“Baby I Love You”.

Please review!

Chapter Three

The River in Eqypt

Harry found himself in The Three Broomsticks Thursday night with Ron and Draco Malfoy. Since Voldemort’s downfall, Draco had become a little more bearable. He was still arrogant to a fault, but he had a good heart deep down (way deep down as Ron joked). His standing in Ron and Harry’s eyes tripled when Draco became involved with Ginny Weasley. They’d been dating for nearly two years now and just last month Draco had popped the question to Ginny, who’d accepted before he’d even had a chance to finish the question.

The three men were nursing their second tankards of ale. They were just starting a game of darts. The pub wasn’t too crowded tonight, to Harry’s great relief.

“So how’s the old ball and chain, Potter?” Draco asked, laughing.

“What are you talking about?” Harry asked. “I’m not married.”

Draco smirked. “Not yet anyway. So when you gonna make an honest woman out of Granger?”

“About the same time you get a medal for sainthood?” Harry guessed.

“Very funny,” Draco said, watching as Ron missed the dartboard completely and nearly took another wizard’s eye out.

”Sorry!” Ron called out to the man, who didn’t respond, but wisely moved from the seat he was in.

“Back me up on this, Weasley,” Draco said, calling Ron over to them. “Harry won’t give me any details about him and Granger shacking up together.”

“We are not shacking up,” Harry said crossly. “You know just as well as I do that she just broke up with a boyfriend…a man that she lived with, okay?”

“So, you’re saying that you haven’t made a move yet because you don’t want to be the rebound guy?” Draco asked.

Harry didn’t respond and angrily snatched the darts from Ron’s hand.

“I haven’t done anything!” Ron exclaimed. “You need to be careful with those things!”

“Says the man who nearly blinded someone,” Harry retorted.

“And so says the man who’s lusting after his best friend,” Draco chimed in merrily.

“Will you please leave it?” Harry asked, throwing and hitting the target. “Hermione is just my friend, Malfoy.”

“You say that now,” Malfoy said smugly, “but just you wait. Before too much longer, she’ll be making this temporary move into a permanent one. She’ll start making you dinner or doing little favors for you. Before you know it, she’s moved in and there’s nothing more you can do about it. You’re stuck.”

“I don’t appreciate you talking about her like that,” Harry said, putting the darts down and heading back to their table. “Hermione’s not like that. She never has been and she never will be.”

“Have you ever lived with her?” Malfoy asked, seemingly unable to let this go.

“No,” Harry admitted, not seeing where Malfoy was going with this. “Just you wait, my friend. Just you wait.”

“Does my sister have any idea that you’re like this when you get some drink in you?” Ron asked Malfoy, who just chuckled.

“How do you think I got her to go out with me?” Draco asked, raising his eyebrow.

Ron grimaced. “Stop right there. Don’t say anymore. I don’t want to think of my sister and you doing anything…”

“But now that you mention it, I had a feeling alcohol might have been involved,” Ron continued, causing Harry to guffaw. “Because I don’t think anyone with a sound mind---“

Draco frowned. “Enough, enough. We get it. Besides, we weren’t talking about you or me for that matter. We were talking about the great Potter-Granger ‘Will They or Won’t They’ debate.”

“Will they or won’t they what?” Ron asked quizzically.

Draco shook his head in disbelief. “This planet that you live on, Ron? Is it nice?”

“Sod off!” Ron said.

“How about you both sod off,” Harry said, reaching into his trousers pocket and pulling out some money. “As much fun as this evening has been, I think it’s time for me to get home.”

Harry started to walk away when Malfoy called out to him, “Yeah, wouldn’t want the wife worrying about you being out all night, right Potter?”

Harry didn’t turn around, but did lift his hand and give Malfoy the middle-finger salute before walking out of the pub.

*******************************

The following Friday, Hermione was sitting in her crammed bedroom, surrounded by boxes. She’d been at Harry’s for a week now and with work she hadn’t had the opportunity to unpack her things properly. Tonight, she planned on remedying that situation.

Harry had given her the okay to store some of her things in an adjacent bedroom and she’d found some great old bookshelves up in the attic that he’d helped her bring down to her room earlier.

Though most people would call her quite mad for enjoying this, she couldn’t help it. While the task of lugging boxes from one place to another was a pain in the arse, Hermione actually liked the chance of decorating a room to her own specifications and taste. She knew that with a flick of her wand everything would be taken care of, but she needed to do this the old-fashioned Muggle way. It kept her busy and she wouldn’t have to think about Brian.

So, on this Friday night, she was in the middle of her bedroom, unloading books from one of the boxes. She was dressed comfortably in a pair of blue pyjama bottoms and a white camisole top. She’d pulled her hair back into a sloppy ponytail. In the background, music from the CD player filled the air.

Hermione was just finishing unloading yet another box when she heard her mobile phone ringing. She looked around the room to see where she’d placed her phone and to her relief saw that it was on her bedside table. In her haste to get to the phone, she tripped over two boxes and stubbed her toe on the bedpost.

“Bugger!” she said, wincing, as she picked up her phone and pressed the “talk” button.

“Hello,” she said crossly.

“Well, were you planning on telling us that you’d moved?” her mother’s voice said angrily.

“Hi, Mum,” Hermione said, sinking down on the bed.

“Well?” Karen Granger asked.

“Mum, I was going to tell you,” Hermione tried to explain.

“Brian said you’d moved out when I rang him earlier,” Karen said. “I felt like such a fool not even knowing where my own daughter was. What happened?”

“Mum, I really don’t want to rehash this right now,” Hermione answered. “Isn’t it enough to know that Brian and I didn’t work out and I moved out?”

“No,” Karen said quickly. “It’s not enough. I told you that this wouldn’t work out, didn’t I? You should never move in with someone like that without knowing what sort of commitment that person has in mind. Hermione, don’t you remember how I told you that this was…”

Hermione sighed. “Yes, Mum. I remember all that you said. So, if you called her to say ‘I told you so’, please go right ahead and get it over with. You’ve certainly earned it. Make it quick, though, because I have to unpack tonight.”

“Unpack?” Karen asked. “Where are you now, love?”

Hermione bit her bottom lip.

“Hermione?” Karen asked again.

“I’m staying with Harry.”

“With Harry?” Karen nearly screamed. “So does this mean you’re with Harry now?”

“No!” Hermione exclaimed loudly, rolling her eyes. “This doesn’t mean I’m with Harry now! I needed a place to stay and he’s letting me stay with him until I find my own place.”

“Do you have any idea how that’s going to look?” Karen asked.

“Mum! Do you have any idea how old-fashioned you sound? Look, it’s just one friend staying with another. Nothing more, nothing less. Okay?”

“Sweetheart, don’t you think you’d be better off coming back and staying with Dad and me?”

Hermione fell back on her bed thinking that she’d rather eat dung beetles than go back home to live with her folks.

“I appreciate the offer,” Hermione said as politely as she could. “I really do, Mum. But, I’m fine where I am.”

“Let me talk to Harry then,” Karen said.

“Why?”

“To make sure this is okay with him,” Karen said simply.

“You’ve got to be kidding me?” Hermione asked incredulously. “I’m not 10 years old and asking for permission to sleep over at my friend’s house. I’m a grown woman, Mum!”

“I know that, sweetie,” Karen said.

“Oh, Mum?” Hermione said, rising from her reclining position on the bed. “I have to go. The doorbell just sounded. Probably my pizza. Love you. Call you soon. Promise.”

Hermione heard her mother exclaim, “Pizza!”, just as Hermione clicked her phone off.

“UGHHHHHHH!!!!!” she said, lying back down on the bed.

There was soft knock on the door and Hermione looked up to see Harry peering inside her room.

“Hey,” she said, sitting up.

“Hey,” he said looking at her quizzically. “I was just walking past your room when I heard you groaning about something. Just making sure you weren’t in here doing Merlin knows what with Merlin knows who.”

“Ha-ha!” Hermione said. “I wish I was. No, I was just having the ‘I told you so’ conversation with my mother.”

Harry winced as he came inside the room. “That bad, huh?”

”Worse,” Hermione said. “She actually wanted to speak to you and make sure this was okay with her. I half expect her to be by later on to warn you that I wet the bed or some rubbish like that.”

Harry laughed. “You don’t do that, do you?”

Hermione slapped him hard on the arm. “No, you git.”

Harry looked appraisingly around the room. “You have your work cut out for you.”

“Yeah,” Hermione admitted. “But it’s been fun.”

“Sure,” Harry said unconvinced.

”It would be even better if I had some company,” she said.

“No, you don’t,” he said, shaking his head. “I was lucky enough to get out of helping you pack the stuff up, I’m certainly not going to help you unload it. Besides, I might mess things up for you. I could put the books out of alphabetical order or something like that.”

“I don’t put them in alphabetical order!” Hermione said defensively. “I mean, I group them by subject, but I don’t put them in alphabetical order! I’m not that anal retentive.”

“Oh, yes you are,” Harry said, winking at her. “But I love you for it.”

Hermione got to her feet, giggling. She worked her way to the middle of the room and gave Harry her best puppy dog eyes. “Come on, Harry. This always goes by much quicker with help. And, if you stay, I’ll even buy pizza. Come on, Harry. You know you want to.”

“Not the puppy dog eyes, Hermione,” Harry said, shaking his head. “As appealing as that sounds, I have to decline.”

“Why?” Hermione asked. “You have a hot date or something?”

Harry chuckled. “As a matter of fact, I do.”

“Who is it this time?” Hermione asked, trying to hide her disappointment. “Bambi? Candy? Lola?”

“Okay,” Harry said. “I know I date a lot, but I have never in my life dated anyone by the names of Bambi, Candy, or Lola. I do have some standards, Hermione.”

“Well, they might as well have names like that with how they behave,” Hermione said without thinking. “I mean, come on, Harry. Some of those girls couldn’t even spell etiquette let alone know how to use it. You could do so much better than that.”

Harry scowled at her. “I’m not looking to marry these girls, Hermione.”

“Which is precisely my point,” Hermione continued. “You know that most of these girls just want to tell their best mates that they slept with ‘The Boy Who Lived’. “

“As long as I get some enjoyment out of it, too, they can tell whomever they want,” he said with a laugh. When he saw that Hermione wasn’t laughing, his smile faded.

”Why are we talking about this anyway?” he asked.

Hermione grabbed a handful of books and carried them over to the bookshelf. “I don’t know. I just think you should stop acting like you do. Find someone with more than a few brain cells upstairs.”

“Why do you care all of a sudden?” he asked. “I’ve been doing this for years now. You’ve never said anything before. Why are you upset about it now?”

Hermione sighed. “Just because I’ve never said anything doesn’t mean that I don’t have an opinion on it. I just don’t see how the sweet guy who’s my best friend can act like this.”

“I’m still the same sweet guy that I always am,” he said, trying to lighten the atmosphere between them. “I just need to go out every once in awhile and blow off some steam.”

Hermione huffed. Harry chose to ignore that.

“I-I need to go and get ready,” he said, looking absently at his watch. Hermione’s back was still to him. “Have fun tonight.”

“You, too,” she said curtly, as she continued to place books on the shelf. She still didn’t turn around to face him. With one last glance at her, he walked out of the room and closed the door firmly behind him. He had one hand on the doorknob and was seriously contemplating going back into the room and having a chat with Hermione. Her words had stung him more than she could ever know. He wasn’t used to looking bad in her eyes and he had to say that he didn’t like it. Recognizing that this was a lost cause, at least at the moment, he walked toward his own bedroom.

**************************

The club that Harry met Sabrina at was already packed by the time he’d arrived. He’d had trouble finding her in the crowd of faces, but he’d found her waiting for him at the bar. She looked quite stunning. Her black hair was piled on top of her head with wisps and tendrils framing her face. She wore a low cut and short red dress.

They’d both ordered drinks and were sitting at a table having a quick chat. Well, at least Sabrina was chatting. Harry was politely nodding, but couldn’t help feeling bored out of his mind. Yes, Sabrina was very pretty and had a great body, but she wasn’t…he couldn’t quite think of the word to describe her. They’d met on the street a few days ago and Harry had asked for her number and she’d given it eagerly to him. He hadn’t even thought about calling her until that stupid talk he’d had with Lupin about Hermione. He’d called Sabrina straight after that and they’d sorted out meeting tonight.

As if that wasn’t enough, Hermione’s words kept echoing in his head. He found his mind wandering to what she was doing. He couldn’t deny how adorable and cute she’d looked earlier than evening with her comfortable pyjama bottoms and top.

Okay, stop thinking about Hermione looking cute and adorable. Concentrate on the beautiful, attractive girl in front of you right now.

“So, I decided to get that jumper in both red and yellow,” he heard her saying. “Because I just couldn’t decide which one I liked best.”

She looked up from her glass of wine and saw that Harry wasn’t listening to a word she was saying.

”Harry?”

“Hmmm?” he asked absently.

“Where are you tonight?” she asked with a laugh.

“With you,” he said, mustering a smile and trying to focus his attention back on Sabrina.

“Good,” she said, relaxing. “So, how about we get out of here and go back to yours?”

Harry was surprised that she was so blunt and upfront about that. But, maybe, this was just what he needed to get his mind off of Hermione. Just as soon as that thought came into his head, however, Hermione’s voice echoed in his ears.

“I mean, come on, Harry. Some of those girls couldn’t even spell etiquette let alone know how to use it. You could do so much better than that.”

“You know that most of these girls just want to tell their best mates that they slept with ‘The Boy Who Lived’.”

“I just think you should stop acting like you do. Find someone with more than a few brain cells upstairs.”

He focused his attention back to Sabrina and saw that she was putting her coat on and was about to stand up from her chair.

“Actually,” he said quickly. “Do you mind if I take a rain check on tonight?”

Sabrina’s face fell. “Oh.”

“I just have an early start tomorrow and I need to check on a friend that I’ve been worried about. I hope you understand.”

“Yes,” she said quickly, mustering a smile. “Of course.”

What the hell is happening to me?

***********

Hermione was nearly finished with unpacking. All in all the night had been quite productive. She’d managed to put her own bed linens on the four poster bed and she’d even stored all her books on the shelves. All that remained now was putting the rest of her clothes in the closet and hanging up some artwork.

She was still upset about her talk with Harry earlier. They rarely fought and when they did, she always felt terrible afterwards. She honestly didn’t understand why he did the things he did sometimes. He was better than some love them and leave them Casanova. Yes, he was right when he said that she’d known all along that he was like this, but it still didn’t make her hate it any less. He deserved better than that. She wanted better for him than that.

In an effort to get her mind off of Harry, she walked over to the CD player and turned the volume up higher. The song was by Aretha Franklin and she couldn’t help but sing along to the music. She didn’t think as anyone would mind the volume as she was the only one home at the moment.

She started to sing along, “If you want my lovin….If you really do…don’t be afraid, baby…just ask me…You know I’m going to give it to you…”

Harry had just stepped into the foyer of 12 Grimmauld Place. He was carrying a small brown paper bag. He heard the sound of music coming from upstairs. Pulling a confused face, he took his coat off and placed it on the table by the door. Before heading upstairs, he quickly walked to the kitchen to pick something up before he finally made his way upstairs to check on Hermione.

As he got closer, he heard…what sounded like Hermione singing. He couldn’t be sure because he couldn’t remember ever hearing her sing. Of course, he’d heard her sing the school song once or twice, but that had always been in a group, never alone.

She was by no means a great singer, but she didn’t sound off-key. He knocked softly on the door, but with the music being as loud as it was, he knew she couldn’t hear. He tried calling out her name, but got no response.

He tried the doorknob and was relieved to see it was unlocked. When he opened the door slowly, he was amazed by what he saw. There was Hermione Granger, singing and dancing around the room.

“Oh and I do declare, I want to see you with it….Stretch out your arms little boy, you’re gonna get it. Cause I love you…ain’t no doubt about it…Baby I love you. I love you, I love you, I love you, baby I love you!”

Harry tried not to laugh as he saw her spin around the room, lost in the music.

“If you feel you want to kiss me…go right ahead, I don’t mind…All you got to do is, snap your fingers and I’ll come running…”

She turned again and gave a seductive smile into the mirror. As she did so, she saw in the reflection that Harry was standing right behind her.

“HARRY!”

She turned around and stared at him for a moment before quickly walking over to the CD player and turning it off. She nearly couldn’t look at him.

She gave him a sheepish smile. “Um, h-how long were you standing there?”

“Long enough,” he said with a grin. “Do you take requests?”

”That was my one and only performance, I’m afraid,” she said nervously. “I-I didn’t think you’d be home so soon.”

“I’m just full of surprises tonight,” he said, coming into the room properly. He looked around the room and gave an appreciate sigh.

“Great job, Hermione!”

“You think so?” she asked proudly. “I had such a great time doing it, too.”

“You should have seen me when I moved in here right after school ended,” he said with a laugh. “Oh, wait a minute! That’s right you were here.”

“Yeah,” she said. “I still remember my aching back from that move. I think that’s one of the reasons we have friends. They’re like personal valets when you move or need help picking something up.”

“That must be why you keep me around then?” he asked teasingly.

“It helps,” she said with a wry grin.

There was a small silence as they sat side by side.

“So, your evening with Lola didn’t turn out as you planned?”

“Sabrina,” Harry corrected. “My evening with Sabrina didn’t turn out as I planned.”

“Oh,” Hermione said, secretly pleased. Okay, where did that come from?

Hermione turned to face Harry at the same time he turned to face her and they both said in unison, “I’m sorry.”

They laughed.

“I-it wasn’t my place to say anything,” she said softly. “You’re a grown man. You can do what you like.”

“Can I?” Harry asked, glad that she wasn’t angry at him and happy that things weren’t awkward between them.

“Yes,” she said with a nod.

“Well, how about a little peace offering then?” he asked, handing her the bag.

“What’s this?” she asked.

“Open it.”

With her eyes twinkling, she opened the brown bag to see a small container of chocolate chip cookie dough ice cream.

“You’re a saint,” she said, kissing him on the cheek.

“Thanks,” he said smiling at her. He handed her a spoon. “So, while you finish that off, how about I finish up the room for you?”

“If you hang those two pictures there, I’ll be in your debt forever, Harry.”

“That I can do,” he said, rolling up his sleeves.

About an hour later, they’d both finished the ice cream and Harry had hung the two pictures where Hermione wanted them. They were both a little tired as they sat down on the bed and admired their combined handiwork.

“I don’t think I could move if I tried,” Hermione said, yawning.

“Me, too,” Harry echoed, yawning himself.

“I’m just going to rest my eyes,” she said, leaning back on the pillow.

“Me too,” Harry said. “I’ll get up in just a second.”

“Okay,” Hermione said sleepily. “Just don’t hog the bed.”

“I’m too tired to argue,” Harry said wearily, closing his eyes.

Within minutes, they were both fast asleep.

Author’s note: Sorry, sorry, sorry for the delay. I have no excuse except for a major case of block that finally appears to be gone (crosses fingers that it won’t be back anytime soon!). Please read and review!

Chapter Four

In the Morning Light

The early morning sun was peeking through the curtains to Hermione’s bedroom. Her eyes blinked open once, but she shut them just as quickly as the light hit her straight on. She couldn’t remember a time when she’d slept so peacefully and soundly. She didn’t know what time it was and for the moment, she didn’t care. She was snug and warm here in her bed. Besides, she suddenly remembered, it was Saturday morning. If she wanted to have a lie-in, she certainly could.

She sighed contentedly and then suddenly was jerked awake when she felt a weight on her hip. Her eyes grew wide as saucers as she looked and saw someone’s arm draped casually over her waist. She didn’t dare move. Then, like a rush, it hit her who was beside her in bed. Harry.

They’d fallen asleep last night after he’d come in to apologize. She’d been too tired to wake him up and he’d obviously been too knackered to get up and go to his own bed. So, they’d slept here, side by side, all night long. Her first thought was, Merlin’s beard! I’m lying here in my bed spooning with my best friend. What’s wrong with this picture?”

Nothing is wrong with this picture. It’s just Harry. I’ve fallen asleep in the same room with him before. Of course, I can’t remember when I’ve ever shared a bed with him. But, we have slept on the same couch before. But, he’d been at one end of the couch and I’d been at the other. So, that’s not really a fair comparison, is it? Those had all been fairly innocent, innocuous situations in perfectly neutral situations.

A voice in the back of her head that sounded suspiciously like Ginny kept echoing in her mind. It kept telling her that if he was just her friend, she wouldn’t be lying here freaking about the implications of them sleeping in the same bed.

This is silly. There was no snogging…no touching. Well, come to think of it, that wasn’t exactly true.

She’d caught a chill in the middle of the night and to keep warm, she’d snuggled up closer to Harry. She remembered how warm and soft the fabric from his shirt had felt against her skin.

Last night, she’d been too tired to think of the implications of sleeping in the same bed as Harry last night. Now, in the harsh light of day, she wondered if Harry would remember how she’d cuddled with him.

Okay, Hermione. Don’t bring the word “cuddle” into this…that makes it sound romantic and more than it actually was. Okay, think…what would be a better word to describe what we did…holding each other? No, that’s going in the same direction as ‘cuddling’. Oh, sod it all!

She rolled her eyes as she lifted Harry’s arm from her waist slowly so she wouldn’t wake him. That was all she needed for him to wake up and tease her about being so worried about how she thought this looked. Creeping slowly out of bed, she found her old dressing gown on a chair and pulled it protectively around her.

She chanced a look at Harry’s sleeping form on the bed and she couldn’t help smiling at how completely adorable he looked. Sometime during the night, he’d placed his glasses on the bedside table. He looked quite different without them, but he still looked as adorable as ever.

Hermione…there you go with that ‘adorable’ word.

His hair was as mussed about as she’d ever seen it. She knew Harry hated that particular feature about himself, but she’d never told him that she found it one of his most endearing and yes, it must be said, most attractive qualities.

Shaking her head, she slowly walked out of the room and closed the door softly behind her.

A few moments later, she emerged from the bathroom. She’d tamed her hair as best she could and brushed her teeth. She was about to go downstairs and make some breakfast for she and Harry when she heard the doorbell sound.

She wondered who would be calling so early on a Saturday morning. She hurried down the stairs and through the foyer and swung the door open. To her utter surprise, Brian stood on the doorstep with a letter in his hand and a satisfied smirk on his face.

They stared at each other for a few moments before Hermione found the use of her voice again.

“Brian,” she said quietly. “What are you doing here?’

“I could ask you the same question if I didn’t already know the bloody answer,” Brian said icily.

Neither Hermione nor Brian saw that Harry was standing at the top of the stairs listening to every word. He’d woken up just as Hermione had closed the bedroom door behind her and he’d tried to go back to sleep, but found this an impossible task as his mind was on the fact that he and Hermione had slept in the same bed all night. He’d decided to take a quick shower to clear his head and had just taken off his shirt and trousers when he’d heard the doorbell chime and heard Brian’s voice. He felt like an idiot for standing here at the foot of the stairs dressed in nothing but boxer shorts, but he wanted to hear what Brian’s excuse was for coming to the house unannounced and uninvited.

“Brian,” Hermione began, but her voice trailed off as Brian gave out a hollow laugh.

“It doesn’t take a genius to figure out this would be where you’d go,” Brian said shaking his head. “I didn’t even bother going to your parents’ house first. I had a feeling that I’d be right on the money if I came here first. And now look at you…where you always wanted to be, right Hermione?”

Hermione folded her arms and looked at him. The man she’d thought she’d loved wasn’t the man who was staring back at her now. He was cold and bitter.

“Though, to be honest, I should have known better,” Brian said. “You do remember how I finally got you to go out with me, don’t you?”

Harry couldn’t take it anymore. He knew that what he was about to do could either make Hermione hate him or thank him. He was willing to take a chance that she’d thank him. Descending the stairs, Harry yawned loudly and Hermione froze as Brian looked past her and saw Harry approaching them with a goofy grin on his face.

“There you are!” he exclaimed to Hermione. He came up behind her and wrapped his arms around her waist and planted kisses on a surprised Hermione’s neck. “I was worried when I woke up and you weren’t there.”

Hermione was at a complete and utter loss for words. She didn’t know what to say and she certainly couldn’t look at Brian while Harry was doing what he was doing.

She laughed nervously.

“Oh, hello Finley,” Harry said, finally acknowledging Brian’s presence. “Didn’t see you there.”

“Yeah, I’ll just bet you didn’t,” Brian replied, staring daggers at Harry. “You certainly didn’t waste any time, did you?”

“Well,” Harry said, wrapping an arm around Hermione and pulling her close. “When you were stupid enough to let her get away, I took my chance. Isn’t that right, Sweet Cakes?”

He stifled a laugh as he caught the expression on Hermione’s face at the “pet name” he’d just called her.

“Um,” Hermione said, looking from Brian to Harry. “That’s right, Love Muffin.”

Brian cleared his throat and Hermione could tell that he was trying hard to keep his temper in check. “I came by to give you some post that came for you. I guess not everyone knows about your new address.”

He handed Hermione a stack of letters. She took them and whispered, “Thank you.”

Brian nodded. “You’re welcome. I trust that you will let everyone know your new address so we can avoid—“

“Why don’t you just send her post via owl next time, Finley?” Harry interjected. “That way we can avoid you interrupting us from…well, what we were doing before we were rudely interrupted.”

Hermione saw Brian clench his fists as Harry began massaging Hermione’s shoulders.

“Thank you, Brian,” she said quickly, shrugging out of Harry’s grasp. “I appreciate it and I will let everyone know my new address. Thanks again.”

She closed the door before Brian could say or do anything else. She let out a sigh of relief as that was finally over. She turned around to see Harry laughing.

“What’s so funny?” she asked him crossly.

He snickered. “I don’t know what was funnier the look on his face or yours when I called you ‘Sweet Cakes’.”

“It’s not funny!” Hermione retorted. She gave him a scathing look before walking away.

“I beg to differ,” Harry said, following her into the kitchen. “It was very funny. And that git deserved it after how he was talking to you. I couldn’t just let it go.”

Hermione absently began leafing through the post.

“You’re welcome,” Harry said, coming up behind her.

“Welcome?” she asked indignantly. She placed the letters on the countertop and rounded on Harry. “You expect me to thank you after that little show you just did? Do you have any idea how bad that looked? You basically confirmed for him that I was lying to him the entire time when I said that you and I were just friends.”

“Hermione!” Harry said in disbelief. “I helped you out of a jam with that wanker and this is what I get in return?”

He wanted to laugh at the sheer absurdity of it. But, before he had the chance to do so, his thoughts were interrupted by the sound of her fist hitting his cheek.

“OW!” he exclaimed. “What the fuck did you do that for?”

Hermione winced and then covered her mouth with her hand as she realized what she’d just done. “Harry! I’m so sorry!”

Harry rubbed his cheek where she’d hit him and glared back at her.

“I’m sorry!” she repeated apologetically. “I didn’t mean to hit you so hard! You just got me so mad!”

“I couldn’t tell,” he said sarcastically.

Hermione pulled her wand from her robe pocket and with a quick flick of her wand; Harry’s bruise from her punch was healed.

“Thanks,” he said quietly. “You know I think you missed your calling. You should be boxing somewhere.”

She couldn’t help laughing.

“Glad to see that my being in pain amuses you,” he teased. She giggled.

“You have to admit that some part of you enjoyed seeing the look on that git’s face when I came up behind you and started kissing your neck,” Harry said, raising an eyebrow suggestively at her.

“Just a bit,” she admitted. “What we must have looked like…what with me in my pyjamas and dressing gown and you nearly starkers in just your boxer shorts.”

“Yeah,” Harry said laughing. “Technically, we didn’t really lie to him…we just fudged the truth a bit. I mean, I was worried when I woke up and you weren’t there.”

Hermione tensed up. She’d nearly forgotten about them sleeping together in the same bed last night.

“Yeah,” Hermione said quickly, getting to her feet and walking back over to the counter. “Well, I had to go to the loo.”

Harry stared back at her nonplussed. “Is something wrong?”

“No,” she said, shaking her head and trying not to sound as if there was in fact, something quite wrong.

“Is this about you and me sleeping together last night?” he asked teasingly.

Hermione turned around and stared at him with her mouth agape.

“We didn’t sleep together!” she retorted defensively. “We slept in the same bed.”

“Which means that we did sleep together,” Harry said pointedly, enjoying the rise he was obviously getting out of her on this.

“We did not!” Hermione said loudly. “We slept in the same bed and using the term ‘sleeping together’ means something quite different from what we did.”

Harry pulled a confused face at Hermione. “What else could it mean?”

Hermione looked at Harry and finally caught on that he was having a go at her. She put her hands on her hips and tried to look sternly at him, but failed when she couldn’t help dissolving into giggles. She picked up an apple from the fruit bowl on the counter and hurled it at him. With his seeker reflexes, he caught it before it hit him in the nose.

“You know you may need to think about anger management courses,” Harry said, taking a bite of the apple. “You have quite the temper on you.”

“Yeah, I’ve got your temper right here,” Hermione said, laughing.

“Okay, okay,” he said, getting to his feet. “How about to make up for my behaviour, I make you some French toast?”

Hermione nodded happily.

“Okay,” he said, sighing. He walked over to the refrigerator and pulled out some eggs and milk as Hermione went through her post more diligently. The last envelope caused the smile on her face to fade.

“Oh,” she managed to say as she held the expensive-looking cream colored envelope in her hands.

“What is it?” Harry asked from his position at the stove.

“I don’t know,” Hermione said groaning. “But, I’m about to find out.”

She sighed and opened up the envelope and saw that it was a wedding invitation.

“Oh great,” Hermione said grumpily.

Harry looked at his friend and then walked over to where Hermione sat with her head in her hands. He saw the offending invitation on the table in front of her and picked it up and read:

“Malcolm & Catherine Granger request your presence at the wedding of their daughter, Rachel Elizabeth Granger to Theodore Richard Langer III on Saturday, June 16 at their estate in Brighton”.

“I don’t think I’ve ever heard you mention a Rachel Granger?” Harry asked, setting the invitation down on the table and returning to the stove. “Is she a cousin?”

Hermione raised her head. “Yeah, she’s my cousin.”

“You’ve never mentioned her before,” Harry said again.

“Because I try not to think about her all that much,” Hermione said simply. “Trust me, Harry. She makes your cousin Dudley look like a saint.”

“That bad, huh?” Harry asked.

“Yeah,” Hermione said morosely. “She’s a year younger than me and is about as spoiled and selfish as anyone I’ve ever met. Now, you know that I don’t necessarily like to talk about people like this, but she’s a complete and utter cow, Harry.”

“Tell me how you really feel,” Harry said with a grin.

“They have a house in Brighton and my parents used to take me there during summer holidays and she’d always have to have things her way. She had to be the best and she loved to rub my nose in every thing that she was better at than me.”

“I can’t believe that there is someone out there better than you at something,” Harry said, hoping to lighten the situation. When he saw the less than amused expression on Hermione’s face, he frowned. “I’m sorry. So what did she want?”

“Well, apparently she’s getting married,” Hermione said. “And according to the letter she included with the invitation, I’m to be a bridesmaid in her extravagant wedding. I can already imagine the peach colored monstrosity she’ll make me wear. I’m telling you, Harry…I’d rather eat dung than go to her wedding. But, if I don’t go…”

“Your parents and extended family will never let you hear the end of it,” Harry finished for her. He gave her a sympathetic smile. “Maybe it won’t be so bad.”

“Yeah, maybe,” Hermione said, forcing a smile as Harry brought her a plate of French toast. “That smells fantastic.”

Harry beamed back at her. “Of course it does. I made it, didn’t I?”

“All this and modest, too,” Hermione teased.

“But of course,” Harry said, sitting down with his own plate.

They ate in silence for awhile and Hermione couldn’t help wondering if Harry had heard the entire conversation she’d had with Brian before he’d decided to “help” her out.

Brian had mentioned that this was where she’d always wanted to be. His words affected her more than she’d let on. And she couldn’t help remembering the party where she’d met Brian Finley for the first time.

Flashback

Hermione sat down at one of the tables in the back of the room waiting for Harry to return with a glass of punch. This Christmas party was about as fun as watching paint dry on the wall. But, being as she and Harry both worked for the Ministry, they’d been forced to attend.

Cornelius Fudge had just finished a rather long-winded speech detailing how the Ministry would continue to work hard to benefit wizards all across the United Kingdom and would work tirelessly with other ministries around the world. It was the same speech he gave every year and Hermione had been quite impressed with it the first time she’d heard it. It seemed to lose its luster with each passing year and every year, she felt herself nodding off earlier in his speech.

She and Harry had decided to attend together as they usually did. Harry had joked that he would need Hermione to help him behave. There were some events and situations where you didn’t need to make a fool of yourself in and office Christmas parties was one of them. Harry didn’t want to bring some random girl to this party and being as Hermione didn’t have a steady boyfriend at the moment, it seemed like a practical solution.

Steady streams of couples were now heading out on the dance floor and Hermione looked wistfully at them. She wished that there was someone special in her life to share the holidays with. She had Harry, of course, but he didn’t see her in any romantic sense. She’d never come out and asked him, of course, but she could tell. Truth be told, she wouldn’t have minded if he did see her in a romantic sense. She’d always sort of had a soft spot in her heart for Harry that went beyond friendship. At times, she figured it was sort of like a crush. But, she’d always felt stupid for indulging those thoughts because it was a hopeless thing. After all, as Harry liked to point out, he saw her like a sister. She would just smile dutifully when he said this. She wondered if he ever noticed that she never said that she saw him as a brother. She would say that about Ron…he being the annoying brother she never wished she had. But, she’d never said that about Harry. That would have been a lie.

“What’s a pretty girl like you doing sitting here all alone?” a male voice said, breaking her out of her reverie. She looked up to see a handsome man staring back at her with a sly grin on his face. He was quite tall and athletic looking and had short brown hair and brown eyes.

“Wondering if you think lines like that actually work?” she asked with a smile of her own.

“Sorry,” he said, taking a seat. “Not my best, I admit. But, I have been spending the better part of the last hour trying to work up the courage to come over here and speak to you.”

Hermione looked at him in surprise. “To me?”

“Yes,” he said warmly. “You do realize you are the prettiest girl here tonight.”

“And you certainly are Mr. Smooth, aren’t you?” she asked. “Did you by any chance read a book on pulling women before you came here tonight?”

He laughed heartily. “I can see that you are much too smart to fall for any of my lines. I give up.”

She couldn’t help smiling back at him. It had been quite some time since she’d had attention from the opposite sex.

”So, I see that you came here with Harry Potter?” he asked her pointedly.

She nodded.

“I didn’t realize you were dating,” he said when Hermione didn’t elaborate.

“We’re just friends,” Hermione said.

“That’s what they all say,” the man said to her knowingly. “That’s how rumors get started. You should just come right on out with it and tell the truth…you are secretly in love with your best friend, aren’t you?”

Hermione laughed. “You’ve got me. You’ve figured me out. I’m so glad I can drop the façade.”

“I’m quite perceptive,” he said smugly. “It kind of comes with the job.”

“What’s that?” she asked. “You’re not with the paper are you?”

He shook his head. “No, I am not with the paper. I’m an auror actually.”

Hermione stared back at him. “You are?”

He nodded. “Surprised?”

“No,” she said quickly. “So you know Harry then?”

“Yeah,” he said. “And I know who you are, too, Hermione Granger. I’m Brian Finley by the way.”

She shook his hand.

“So, yes, I know Harry, but not as well as you I gather,” Brian said.

Hermione didn’t answer. She wished Harry would come back with her drink. This guy, whoever he was, was making her nervous.

“So, are you?” Brian asked, resting his elbows on the table and staring at her.

“Am I what?”

“Secretly in love with your best mate?” he asked with a sly grin.

She looked around the room helplessly for Harry. She wondered how long it could take to get two drinks.

“Why do you care?” she asked.

“Because I want to know if I should bother asking you out for a date,” Brian said flirtatiously. “If you’re hung up on Harry, I shouldn’t waste my time, should I?”

Hermione opened her mouth to respond, but Harry had chosen that moment to come back to the table. He frowned when he saw Brian Finley chatting up Hermione.

“Hello, Finley,” Harry said, mustering a smile.

”Potter,” Brian said, his eyes still focused on Hermione.

“I see you’ve met my date,” Harry said, not liking the look that his colleague was giving Hermione.

“Actually, I’ve just asked her out,” Brian said. Hermione’s cheeks reddened at this and she didn’t dare look at Harry.

“Hermione doesn’t date aurors,” Harry said simply.

Hermione tensed up at this. How dare he say who I date? She thought angrily. He’s not my bloody father. If he isn’t going to take notice of me, why should I just sit around and be an old maid?

“Actually,” Hermione said looking up at Brian. “I’d love to go out with you Brian.”

Brian grinned and asked Hermione if she’d like to dance. Without a glance back at Harry, she allowed him to lead her onto the floor.

(end flashback)

Hermione was still lost in her thoughts when she heard Harry excuse himself from the table. She volunteered to clean up the dishes and she watched as Harry left the room.

She felt bad for what she’d done to Brian. She’d not been completely honest with him or herself, had she? The simple truth was that she guessed she always felt something more for Harry than friendship. She hadn’t been fair to embark on a relationship with one man when her heart seemingly belonged to another. But, she’d put that all behind her when she’d decided to give Brian a chance. Or had she?

If she truly had, would she have reacted as she did this morning when she woke up with Harry? She couldn’t help asking herself these questions. But, she couldn’t allow herself to answer them. If she did, she had a feeling she’d only be setting herself up for heartbreak.

Author’s note: I tried to get this one up as soon as I could being as it took me so long with the last update! I think the block has gone (knock on wood). Hopefully, it will stay far, far away…

Please read and review!

Chapter Five

Dinner with Friends

Harry surveyed the dining room and was quite pleased with the setup. He’d gone to quite a bit of trouble for Sabrina. Frankly, he’d been quite surprised that she’d agreed to have dinner with him after how he’d turned her down a couple of weeks ago. When he’d ran into her and suggested dinner, she’d hastily accepted and Harry had to admit he was looking forward to it.

While he didn’t have much free time what with his job and all, the free time he had these days was spent with Hermione. They had settled into a bit of a routine. On Tuesdays, Thursdays and Saturdays, Hermione would cook and Harry had Mondays, Wednesdays, Fridays and Sundays. Somehow, he ended up with the extra day because as Hermione pointed out he was a much better cook than she. He hadn’t argued with her. While Hermione was a whiz with potions, she was---to put it bluntly---limited in her culinary abilities. Her specialties included sandwiches, omelets and macaroni and cheese. Anything more complex than that was just an invitation to disaster. To Harry’s great relief, Hermione would also get takeaway for them quite regularly whenever it was her turn in the kitchen.

If there was one positive to being raised by the Dursleys, Harry would have to say that he learned at an early age how to cook. He was quite good, if he did say so himself. For tonight, he’d prepared blackened chicken with vegetables with a garden salad and fresh bread (which he hadn’t made, but bought at the bakery down the street). A bottle of red wine and some nice music set the perfect scene.

To top it all off, Hermione would be out of the house all evening. She’d gone out with Ginny and Luna for a girls’ night out. Harry didn’t expect her home until late and by that time, he hoped he and Sabrina would be asleep. He hadn’t told Hermione his plans for the evening. Truth be told, he felt uncomfortable about bringing anyone home now that Hermione was his housemate. So, with her out of the house, he saw nothing wrong with having someone over for a nice dinner and possibly more.

The doorbell sounded just as Harry lit the last candle. He checked his watch. Sabrina was a little early, but he didn’t mind. He smoothed down his hair and made his way toward the door.

Sabrina smiled warmly at him when he answered the door. She looked amazing, Harry couldn’t help thinking. Although she was dressed casually in jeans and a jumper, the jeans and jumper in question hugged all the right curves and Harry couldn’t help smiling back as he welcomed her inside.

Tonight was just what he needed.

********

Meanwhile at Ron and Luna’s flat, the three girls were enjoying their own meal of lasagna and salad. Ron had taken their two-year old daughter Katie to visit with her grandparents so the three women could have a night to themselves.

“This is so good, Luna,” Hermione said, as she ate the last bite of food on her plate. “You’ll have to give me the recipe.”

Ginny stared at Hermione. “For what? So you can find a new and creative way of burning that, too?”

Hermione grimaced. “I will have you know that I have every intention of learning to cook better than I do. I actually bought some cookbooks at a Muggle bookshop just the other day and when I have some spare time; I fully plan on trying some recipes out.”

Luna and Ginny exchanged worried looks. “Maybe you should wait until you have your own place. I think Harry’s grown quite attached to his home. We wouldn’t want you to burn it down.”

Ginny and Luna giggled as Hermione glared back at them. She wasn’t used to not being good at something and the one thing she wasn’t good at, all of her friends chose to tease her with endlessly.

“Can we please talk about something else?” Hermione asked. “Like how’s married life treating you?”

Ginny grinned and stole a glance at the wedding ring on her finger. She and Draco had stunned their friends and family when the two of them had decided on a whim to elope. They’d both decided that the wedding preparations were getting out of hand and being as both of them wanted something simple and small, they’d decided to go as simple and as small as possible and they’d eloped two weeks ago.

Ginny and Draco showed up for the Weasley family dinner on the following Sunday both positively glowing and had broken the news to a shocked Molly and Arthur. The rest of the family had been taken aback, but quite happy for the couple, but Molly had felt left out.

“It’s going okay,” Ginny said with a sly grin. “If Mum would come around, things would be great.”

Luna sighed. “This can’t have been easy on her, Ginny. You are her only daughter. She wanted to be there when you got married.”

“Whose side are you on?” Ginny asked defensively.

“Yours, of course,” Luna said quickly. “But, you both need to see this from each other’s perspective. You’re only seeing it from your view. Imagine how you’d feel if your only daughter ran off and got married without you knowing about it?”

Ginny looked to Hermione for help, but Hermione didn’t know what to say. She had to agree with Luna on this one, but she knew that Ginny didn’t want to hear that.

“You both saw how out of hand Mum was getting,” Ginny reasoned. “You remember how she had everything planned down to the letter. She was obsessed with the wedding. It was becoming much more than either Draco or I wanted. She wasn’t going to understand that.”

Hermione nodded. “Did you try and talk with her about it?”

“A million times,” Ginny answered. “But it went in one ear and out the other. Luna, you remember how she was with your and Ron’s wedding, don’t you?”

Luna looked thoughtfully at Ginny. Yes, Molly had gone a little overboard with the backyard wedding Luna and Ron had at the Burrow, but Luna had enjoyed it. Since she didn’t have her mother with her, it had been nice to have someone to talk to about the wedding. She felt quite close to Molly and Mr. and Mrs. Weasley both had made her feel immediately like part of the family. Being caught between her friend and sister-in-law and her mother-in-law was a place that Luna didn’t like being in at all. She’d tried to stay neutral, but Ginny obviously wanted an ally. Instead of answering Ginny, Luna simply nodded.

“So, that night Draco suggested it, I thought it was the most romantic and spontaneous thing I’d ever heard. And it was,” Ginny said as a dreamy expression came over her face as she remembered their wedding and wedding night.

“I just wish we could have been there,” Hermione said softly.

”I do, too,” Ginny said with a wistful smile. “If there was one drawback to the day, it was that you guys weren’t there.”

“Well, if there is a bright side,” Luna said, nudging Hermione, “it’s that we won’t have to wear some awful bridesmaid dresses.”

“From the girl who made Hermione and me wear aqua,” Ginny said teasingly.

“With that awful flower garland in our hair, too,” Hermione chimed in.

“You both looked really beautiful,” Luna said seriously.

“I’m glad you thought so,” Hermione said sarcastically.

Hermione couldn’t help thinking of Rachel’s upcoming wedding. She didn’t want to go and she knew it would be made all the worse because she would be showing up alone. She could just hear Rachel going on and on about how she got married first and how Hermione would probably end up a spinster living in a house full of cats. Of course, everyone would find this delightfully funny and dote on Rachel as they always did, Hermione thought.

“What’s got you so glum, chum?” Ginny asked, waving her hand in front of Hermione’s face to get her attention.

“Just thinking about Rachel’s wedding and how I don’t want to go,” Hermione answered with a shrug. “I’ve thought of every excuse in the book and I know no one would buy a single one. I’m a terrible liar…they’d see right through me.”

“You need to get back out there, Hermione!” Ginny said enthusiastically.

Hermione pulled a confused face at her friend. “Get back out where?”

”Into the dating scene,” Ginny answered. “Since you obviously don’t want to explore your feelings for Harry…”

Hermione opened her mouth to protest, but Ginny waved her off. “I know, I know. ‘Harry and I are just friends’…I’ve got that, okay? I have it memorized. So, if that ship has sailed, so to speak, you need to get on back out there.”

Hermione shook her head. “Please don’t say you want to set me up with someone. Please?”

“I have the perfect guy for you,” Ginny said quickly.

Hermione groaned. “No. I’ll find my own date thank you very much.”

“Just give him a chance, Hermione,” Ginny said pleadingly. “He’s really nice and funny and cute. You ‘d love him.”

Luna gave Hermione a sympathetic smile. “It might not be that bad, Hermione. What do you have to lose? If anything, you at least get a free meal out of it?”

The last thing Hermione wanted to do other than go to her cousin’s wedding was go on a blind date.

“You don’t have to answer me now,” Ginny said quickly. “Just think about it, okay?”

“Alright, alright,” Hermione said in defeat. “I’ll think about it.”

Ginny clapped her hands together happily. “Now, let’s watch the movie!”

Hermione sighed as she followed her two friends into the sitting room. She knew that Ginny would push the issue until she relented and maybe Luna was right. It might not be all that bad.

********

Harry and Sabrina had finished their meal and were in the sitting room enjoying some soft, romantic music and sipping some wine. The evening was going just as Harry had planned and he hadn’t thought of Hermione once. Well, that wasn’t entirely true. As pretty as Sabrina was, she wasn’t much to talk to. She was pretty superficial when it came down to it, but Harry tried to forget about that. He wasn’t looking for anything serious and from what he could tell, neither was Sabrina. This was all just a bit of fun and anyway, conversation was overrated, he tried to tell himself.

“You should really do some decorating around here,” Sabrina said thoughtfully looking around the room. “It’s awfully grey, don’t you think? Sort of dark and dreary. Not very warm and inviting.”

Harry shrugged. “I’ve never gotten around to it, actually. I’ve been meaning to.”

“I could give you some ideas,” Sabrina said. “I have quite a collection of decorating magazines. It’s sort of a hobby of mine.”

Harry nodded politely.

“You could really use some warm colors in here,” Sabrina said, looking appraisingly around the room again. “Some light blues and maybe some mauves would do wonders.”

“Uh-huh,” Harry said softly, taking Sabrina’s wine glass and setting it on the coffee table beside his.

Sabrina smiled knowingly and leaned in for a soft kiss.

They’d snogged on the sofa for a good twenty minutes and things were getting hot and heavy pretty quickly. They were so engrossed in each other that they didn’t hear the sound of the key turning in the lock. They did however hear Hermione calling out Harry’s name as she set her bag down by the door.

“Harry?” Hermione’s voice called out.

Harry froze as did Sabrina.

“Who’s that?” Sabrina whispered.

Harry let go of the girl and sat up quickly.

Before he could respond, Hermione came around the corner. When she saw the sight before her, her mouth fell open. For a moment, she stared at Harry in disbelief. She quickly caught her bearings and tried to appear nonchalant.

“I didn’t know you had company,” she said uncomfortably.

Sabrina stared at Harry hoping he’d catch the hint and give her some explanation for who this girl was who had interrupted them. But, as Sabrina found, Harry’s eyes were focused solely on the brunette before him.

“I-I didn’t know you’d be home so soon,” Harry mumbled.

Hermione sighed. “Um, yeah. Ron brought Katie home sooner than expected. She had a slight fever so we decided to call it an early evening.”

“Oh,” was all Harry could say.

There was an uncomfortable silence whereas Harry avoided looking at Hermione and Hermione couldn’t help staring at Sabrina. Sabrina couldn’t take this anymore.

“Who is she, Harry?” she asked impatiently.

“Um,” Harry said, looking down at the floor. “Hermione Granger. She’s my housemate.”

“Housemate?” Sabrina repeated. “You never said you were living with someone.”

“I-I, I mean, we’re not…” Harry said quickly.

“I’m just staying with Harry for awhile,” Hermione explained. “We’re old friends and he took me in when I broke up with my boyfriend. That’s all.”

“Oh,” Sabrina said, still unconvinced that that was all it was.

“Sabrina Templeton,” Sabrina said, getting to her feet and extending a hand to Hermione. Hermione hesitated a moment before shaking the girl’s hand.

“Well,” Hermione said, feeling quite awkward as she stood there unsure of what to say or what to do. “I guess I’ll be turning in.”

“I should probably go, too,” Sabrina said.

“No,” Hermione said quickly. “Stay. I’ll be upstairs. You won’t even know I’m here. Really. Enjoy the rest of your evening.”

Sabrina smiled good-naturedly. “Thanks, we will.”

She walked back over to where Harry was now standing and linked her hand in his. Hermione felt her stomach lurch as she watched this other girl holding hands with Harry.

Why didn’t I just let her go? She gave me the perfect opportunity to let her go and I just stood there and practically gave her the green light to shag my best friend.

“Good night,” Hermione said, looking at Harry as she said this. He looked up and his green eyes met hers and held her gaze for a long time.

“Good night,” Harry finally said softly.

Hermione nodded and finally walked away feeling about as low as she could ever remember feeling.

***********

A few minutes later and Harry was trying to get back into the mood with Sabrina, but was finding it nearly impossible. He kept seeing the look on Hermione’s face when she’d walked in on the two of them. She’d looked hurt and disappointed.

Don’t think about Hermione! You’ve got this beautiful girl on the sofa who wants to be with you. You shouldn’t be thinking of anything else but that.

*****************

Hermione had changed into her pyjamas and was trying not to think about what was possibly going on downstairs at this very moment. Sabrina fit the description of every girl Harry had dated in the past couple of years.

She found herself angry at Harry for not telling her he was planning on having someone over. She would have made plans to stay at Ginny’s or at her parents’ house. Anything would have been better than walking on that scene.

She’d gone upstairs nearly a half hour ago. Surely by now, the two of them would be in Harry’s room. Hermione was really quite thirsty and was craving some warm milk before bed. She waited a few more minutes before deciding that it was safe to go back downstairs to the kitchen. Saying a silent prayer that Harry and the flavor of the week were not going at it in the sitting room, she quickly opened her bedroom door and crept slowly downstairs.

*****

Sabrina was beginning to unbutton Harry’s shirt when Harry couldn’t take it anymore. He had never felt less like having sex in his entire life. And the mere fact of this was leaving him so gobsmacked he couldn’t think straight.

There is something obviously wrong with me.

“I can’t do this,” Harry said, pulling away from Sabrina’s kiss.

“Sure you can,” Sabrina teased, her hands going back to Harry’s shirt. Harry gently pulled them away.

”I’m sorry,” he said with a frown. “I really am. But, I can’t do this.”

“Did I do something wrong?” Sabrina asked, taken aback. “Maybe if we go up to your bedroom everything will be okay. Would that help?”

Harry shook his head. “I’m just not into it tonight, Sabrina. It’s not you, it’s me.”

Harry cursed himself for letting loose with the most overused cliché in the world.

Sabrina let out a hollow laugh. “Uh-huh.”

She leaned down and picked up her discarded shoes and made quick work of putting them back on. She smoothed down her hair and sighed in frustration as she got up from the sofa and picked up her coat from the armchair.

“I guess this is good night then,” she said quietly. She gave him one last look…one last chance to call her back. But, he didn’t.

“I’m sorry,” was all he could say as Sabrina shrugged and walked out of the sitting room. A couple of seconds later, he heard the door close behind her.

He sat back on the sofa and fought the urge to groan loudly.

Hermione, who had heard every word of Harry’s conversation with Sabrina, bit her lip as she watched Harry. She knew she shouldn’t have eavesdropped, but she couldn’t help it. It had been quite a show of willpower not to whoop loudly when she heard Harry tell Sabrina that he couldn’t go through with it…at least not tonight.

She tried to tiptoe past the sitting room into the kitchen, but to her dismay, Harry chose that moment to get up off the sofa. As they stood there, inches apart, they stared at each other in complete and utter silence.

“Hi,” Hermione heard herself say.

“Hi,” Harry echoed.

“Where’s Sabrina?” Hermione asked, trying to sound as if she genuinely didn’t already know.

“She…she had to go,” Harry answered. “Early start tomorrow and all. We just had a quick dinner, you know.”

Hermione nodded.

“I was just going to get some warm milk,” she said softly. “Did you want to join me?”

He stared at his friend not knowing what to do. He wanted to be mad at her for getting in his thoughts like she had and turning his life and how he lived it completely upside down. But as he looked at her, looking all adorable in her pyjamas, he knew that he couldn’t be upset with her. It wasn’t her fault that she’d come home early. She hadn’t known that he’d have someone here when she returned.

“Sure,” he said with a slight smile following her into the kitchen. “I should really clean up the mess I made in here.”

Hermione surveyed the assorted pots and pans and laughed. “You’re not exactly the neatest cook are you?”

“Not exactly,” he admitted, taking out his wand and muttering some cleaning charms. Within seconds, the kitchen was as clean as a whistle. He folded his arms in triumph as he surveyed the now clean kitchen.

“One of the many advantages of magic,” Harry said, sitting down at the counter.

Hermione laughed. “One of many.”

“So how was your night?” Harry asked, as Hermione heated some milk on the stove.

“Okay,” Hermione said. “Ginny and Molly still aren’t talking. I think it’ll be awhile before Molly comes around.”

“Yeah,” Harry said. “I can’t see her getting over that too easily.”

“Luna pointed out the one positive of us not having to go to their wedding,” Hermione said, pouring her milk into a mug.

“What’s that?”

“No awful bridesmaid dresses,” Hermione answered simply.

“No dancing,” Harry chimed in.

“No catching the bouquet,’ Hermione said with a smile.

“No drunken cousins of Ron trying to pinch you on the buttocks,” Harry said.

Hermione laughed as she remembered Ron’s cousin Amelia who was all of eight years old. The young girl had taken a shine to Harry at Ron and Luna’s wedding and had followed him around the entire afternoon. The young girl had even been so bold as to run up to Harry and pinch his behind before running away in a fit of embarrassed giggles.

“It’s not that funny,” Harry said, as Hermione nearly spewed milk out of her nose she was laughing so hard at the memory.

“I’m sorry,” Hermione said breathlessly, trying to regain her composure but failing as she dissolved into another round of laughter. “If you could have seen the look on your face when she did it…”

Harry couldn’t help laughing too. He also couldn’t help thinking that in the past 15 minutes with Hermione; he’d been more himself and enjoyed himself more than he had in an entire evening with Sabrina.

What the hell does that mean?

Author’s note: There was a little delay in this one, too. For that, I am truly sorry. This was originally going to be one chapter…but I decided to break this up and hopefully, you won’t have to wait all that long for the second part of this chapter. In this one, our Mr. Potter gets a little jealous and gets an eyeful…I can’t tell you of what, but you’ll see soon enough. Please let me know what you think!

Chapter 6

The Green-Eyed Monster

On Wednesday evening, Harry and Hermione found themselves at a dinner party at Ginny & Draco’s flat celebrating the happy couple’s wedding. The dinner party itself had been quite small with just Harry and Hermione, Ginny and Draco, and Luna and Ron. Katie was still getting over an ear infection so Ron and Luna left early. Harry and Hermione, however, had decided to stick around and help clean up.

Harry and Draco were in the sitting room listening to a Quidditch match on the wireless and Ginny and Hermione were sharing the last piece of cake in the kitchen.

“You know,” Ginny began, looking over at her friend, “Stefan is really interested.”

“Who?” Hermione asked, dropping her fork on the plate.

“Stefan Marone,” Ginny said, rolling her eyes. “Honestly, Hermione. I’ve told you about him loads of times. He works with me. I’ve shown him your picture and I must say I think he’s already smitten.”

Hermione inwardly groaned. She’d hoped that Ginny had forgotten all about matchmaking. She’d gone nearly a week without bringing it up again, but no such luck. Ginny looked quite determined. Hermione wondered if the younger witch already had china patterns picked out for Hermione and Stefan.

“You’d really like him,” Ginny said quickly. “He’s talk, dark, and handsome. Don’t roll your eyes, Hermione. He really is!”

Hermione listened as Ginny droned on and on about every positive attribute that this Stefan possessed.

“He’s quite athletic, too. All the girls at work think he could be a model. I was shocked beyond belief when I found out he was single.”

“There could be a reason for that, you know,” Hermione said reasonably. Ginny chose to ignore this, however, and continued to sing Stefan’s praises.

“I immediately thought of you, Hermione. I think you two would really hit it off.”

Hermione sighed. “I really appreciate it, Gin, but it’s too soon after Brian. I don’t think I’m ready to date just yet.”

“Rubbish,” Ginny retorted. “It’s been nearly two months since you and he split. It’s time to get back out there, Hermione!”

“What if I’m happy in here,” Hermione said with a laugh. “What if I don’t want to get back ‘out there’ just yet?”

Ginny didn’t crack a smile. “You’re going on a date and that’s final.”

“What’s final?” Draco said, coming into the kitchen followed by Harry.

“I think I’ve finally convinced Hermione to go out with that bloke from work, Draco,” Ginny said smugly.

Hermione didn’t see the smile on Harry’s face fade at this news.

“I haven’t agreed to go out with him,” Hermione said shooting a look at Ginny.

“Not yet,” Ginny said with a smile. “Stefan is absolutely gorgeous, Hermione. He’s got this great body and this great sense of humor and this great…”

“Hey!” Draco interjected. “Remember me? Your husband?”

Hermione and Ginny laughed. “You know I only have eyes for you, sweetheart. I’m just trying to convince Hermione what a great guy Stefan is and that she should give him a chance.”

Hermione opened her mouth to respond, but Harry beat her to the punch.

“I think he sounds like a wanker,” he answered quietly. He had been looking down at the floor as the entire conversation had been going, but he couldn’t help the comment that escaped his lips as Ginny talked about this guy Stefan.

Hermione looked over at Harry. “You don’t even know him Harry!”

“I don’t need to,” Harry said with a laugh. “What kind of name is that anyway? Stef-an?”

“He was born in Italy,” Ginny explained. “His dad is from London and his mum was born in Naples.”

“I’ve always wanted to go to Italy,” Hermione admitted.

Ginny beamed at this. “Well, if you play your cards right, Granger, you just might get to go…maybe on a honeymoon?”

Hermione shook her head. “Slow down, Gin. I haven’t even agreed to go out with him yet.”

Draco looked pointedly at his wife. “You better tell her, Gin.”

“You sort of already have,” Ginny said sheepishly.

“What?” Harry and Hermione said at the same time. Hermione looked over at him in shock. He looked away and Hermione wondered what his problem was. She focused her attention back on Ginny. “You already set something up?”

Ginny nodded. “I’m sorry! I just thought that if I waited for you, it’d never happen. Hermione, come on. You know you want to. What could be bad about spending an evening with a good-looking man and enjoying a fabulous dinner and a stimulating conversation?”

“Yeah,” Harry scoffed. “Spending a fabulous evening with Stefan sounds like a great way to spend an evening.” He used his fingers to indicate quotation marks when he said Stephan’s name and Draco guffawed at this.

“He does have a point,” Draco said, looking at a clearly not amused Ginny.

“Don’t listen to them, Hermione,” Ginny said. “They don’t know what they’re talking about. Stefan will pick you up at your house this Friday at 7 p.m. He’s going to take you to Café La Russe.”

“You don’t fight fair,” Hermione said. “That’s my favorite restaurant.”

“I know,” Ginny said. “So, what do you say?”

Harry looked over at Hermione silently hoping she’d say no. To him, this guy seemed like an absolute tosser. He wondered what Ginny could be thinking setting Hermione up with someone like this Stefan.

“Okay,” Hermione said, her cheeks reddening as Ginny let out a loud whoop.

Harry tried not to let the others see how this discomforted him. He tried not to listen as Hermione and Ginny discussed this perfect man. Feeling quite irritated and needing to get out of this house, he cleared his throat and announced that he was tired and ready to go home.

“Are you coming?” he asked abruptly. When he saw the look on Hermione’s face, he regretted the tone he’d used.

“Yeah,” she said pulling a puzzled face at him.

She and Harry said quick goodbyes to Ginny and Draco and then within a couple of minutes, the two of them disapparated and were back at 12 Grimmauld Place. Hermione was silent as she took off her jacket and watched as Harry did the same.

“You’re awfully quiet,” she said softly.

“Just tired,” he said, giving her a weak smile. He hoped she wasn’t going to start asking questions that he didn’t know the answers to himself.

”Are you sure that’s all?” she asked, putting a hand on his shoulder.

“Yeah,” he said, not turning to look at her.

“Okay,” she said quietly. She didn’t want to push the issue further when she knew that when he was ready to tell her what was bothering him, he would.

“I guess I’ll head on up to bed,” she said, heading for the stairs.

“Hermione?” he called out to her just before she reached the first step. She turned around and looked expectantly at him.

“Are you sure about this?” he asked feebly.

“About what?”

“This date?” he asked. “You don’t know anything about this bloke. He could be a serial killer for all you know. I mean, for all you know, he could have three wives and six children.”

Hermione laughed. “I should hope not. Besides, Ginny’s one of my closest friends… I doubt that she’d set me up with a serial killer, Harry.”

Harry stepped closer to her and the look on his face was so serious, so full of concern. Hermione hadn’t seen him like this in quite some time.

“How would Ginny know really?” Harry argued. “She only knows this guy from work, right? Does she know what he’s like after work? He could have dead bodies stashed in his cellar or he could like dressing up in women’s clothes.”

Hermione chuckled. “That would just mean he’s eccentric.”

“It’s not funny, Hermione.”

“That might not be,” she answered matter-of-factly, “But the way you’re acting is. It’s just one date, Harry. It’s not like I’ll marry the guy. You and I both know how blind dates usually are, right?”

Harry relaxed a little at this. She was right. It was just one date. And he certainly didn’t begrudge Hermione having a nice time out. But, something about this date with this Stefan character didn’t sit well with him.

“Okay,” he said reluctantly. “I hope you have a nice time on your date with ‘Stefan’.”

“Do you have to say his name like that?” Hermione asked.

“Like what?” Harry asked innocently.

“Stefan,” Hermione mimicked. “You sound as if you’re describing a fungus or a virus or something you just stepped in and are picking off your shoe, Harry.”

“I can’t help it,” Harry said laughing. “It’s that name. You have to admit it’s horrible, Hermione.”

Hermione shook her head and hid a smile as she walked slowly up the stairs. Sometimes she didn’t understand men. Tonight, was definitely one of those times.

“Good night, Hermione,” Harry called after her.

“Good night, Harry.”

***********

When Friday rolled around, Hermione couldn’t have felt less like going on a date than she did as she walked through her front door. The phrase “day from hell” didn’t even begin to adequately describe her day.

She’d been called to present research at two tribunals and would have had to attend a third if it hadn’t been delayed until next week due to an unfortunate apparition incident where the main witness had splinched himself and a team of highly-skilled wizards had yet to make any progress on remedying the situation.

The last thing in the world she wanted to do was go on a blind date, but here she was rushing frantically about her bedroom trying simultaneously to pick out a suitable outfit for her date and cursing herself as to why she had even agreed to this evening in the first place.

She was never one to worry over clothes, but as she stood in front of her closet, she scrunched her nose up in disgust at nearly everything she set her eyes upon. Glancing at her watch and seeing the time dwindling away, she hurriedly picked out a black skirt and a simple grey jumper with a v-neck. She set the clothes out on her bed and grabbed her dressing gown and headed out her bedroom door and down the hall to the bathroom.

A few minutes later, she emerged from the shower and wrapped a towel around her wet, naked body. She reached for her bra and knickers, but to her dismay, she’d left them in her bedroom. She hesitated a moment before opening up the bathroom door. Harry wasn’t at home. There was no danger of him catching her walking around the house half-naked.

Scurrying down the hall, she entered her bedroom just as the front door opened downstairs. Harry set his jacket on the coat rack and called out for Hermione, but no answer came. He wondered crossly if she’d already left for her date.

Today hadn’t been a picnic for him, either. He’d had to do paperwork with that jerk Brian Finley who kept slipping in snide remarks about Hermione. Well, Harry gave as good as he got, and peppered the conversation with his own snide comebacks about how Hermione had finally decided to go after a real man and not some cheap imitation. Needless to say, Lupin hadn’t been pleased with either of them and had again read them each the riot act.

Harry climbed the stairs knowing that upstairs there was a shower with his name written all over it. Thinking that Hermione was already gone and there was no need to be modest, he unbuttoned his shirt and was nearly to the bathroom when he heard a door open just behind him. He heard someone gasp and he turned around quickly and he nearly forgot his own name as he stared at the sight before him.

Hermione was standing in the middle of the hall, clad only in a towel. Her damp, brown hair cascaded down her back. They stared at each other for what seemed like an eternity. Neither of them moved. Neither of them was sure they remembered how to move as they looked at each other.

Hermione’s cheeks turned red as she saw Harry looking at her as if he’d never seen her before.

“I-I didn’t know you were home,” she stammered.

“I—I, um, “ Harry began, but his voice trailed off as he watched a bead of water trail down Hermione’s cheek and then drop slowly onto her shoulder. He tried again to string a coherent sentence together.

”I, um, didn’t know you were home either,” he mumbled. “I, um, well…shower…long day…you know?”

She nodded as if she comprehended what he’d actually said, but she had no clue what he was talking about or why he was looking at her in such a way. It was almost as if…well, it was like he was…but she knew that couldn’t be. He didn’t think of her that way and never would.

“So, um, when’s your date?” Harry asked. As he did so, he couldn't help visibly wincing at his bringing up the one topic that he didn't want to talk about with her. The idea of her dating anyone had always been a bit of a sore spot with him. He didn't think any of the blokes she'd dated had been right for her. She deserved much better than the lot that had passed in and out of her life, Harry thought.

As he stared at his best friend, he was hit with this overwhelming urge to take her in his arms and snog her senseless.

Okay, where did that come from?

Hermione’s eyes grew large. “Oh, he’s picking me up at 7. I better get a move on or I’ll be late.”

Harry nodded as Hermione brushed past him and he watched as she quickly walked toward the bathroom. Just before she opened the bathroom door, she turned and gave him one last look and a slight smile before closing the door firmly behind her.

Harry stared at the closed door and again wondered what had just happened. For the first time, however, he had an answer…he knew what had just happened and he wasn’t sure what, if anything, to do about it.

****************

Thirty minutes later, Harry had taken his own shower and had just changed into a pair of jeans and a t-shirt when the doorbell sounded. He rolled his eyes. He had a hunch who was at the front door…Prince Oh-Not-So Charming.

“Harry?” he heard Hermione’s voice calling to him. “Can you get that? I’m not ready just yet?”

He sighed before calling out “yes”. As he opened his own bedroom door and walked down the hall, he heard Hermione’s door open and she poked her head out behind the door and gave him a stern look. “Be nice.”

“Yeah,” he muttered under his breath as he walked down the stairs.

Standing on his doorstep was a man who stood about six foot three and was athletic, tanned and had thick, dark hair. Harry took an instant dislike to the bloke standing before him and tried, for Hermione’s sake, to be at least on the surface---polite.

“Does Hermione Granger live here?”

Harry stared back at him and found he was tempted to tell this guy that no one by that name lived here, but he knew Hermione wouldn’t be too pleased with him if he even attempted that.

”Yeah,” Harry said, nodding. “Come on in. She’s almost ready.”

Stefan nodded and walked inside the house and gave the foyer an appraising look. Harry closed the door and walked past Stefan without a word and into the kitchen. To his horror, Stefan followed him.

“I’m Stefan Marone, by the way,” Stefan said, extending his hand for Harry to shake. Harry hesitated a moment before shaking his hand. “Harry Potter.”

“Oh, yeah?” Stefan asked. “I should have sussed by the scar who you were.”

This guy is a frigging genius.

Harry nodded and went about getting a bottle of ale from the refrigerator. He didn’t offer Stefan one and stood against the refrigerator hoping that he was making this bloke uncomfortable.

“So,” Stefan said.

“So,” Harry repeated.

“You live with Hermione?”

“Yeah,” Harry said, not bothering to elaborate any further for Stefan. Normally, he would have pointed out that he and Hermione were just friends and that everything was strictly platonic, but Harry didn’t feel as if he needed or wanted to clear this up for Stefan.

Upstairs, Hermione was looking at her reflection in the mirror and was absolutely mortified. She looked as if she was going to teach school. Her sensible black skirt and grey jumper weren’t something you would wear on a date, she thought irritably. But, what could she wear? Stefan was already downstairs and Harry probably is being a complete…she stopped herself. She didn’t want to think about Harry being downstairs and giving her date a complete interrogation.

To top it all off, she was still trying to get over how Harry had looked at her when he’d seen her in nothing but a towel.

Stop it Hermione. Don’t think about Harry. You’re not going out with Harry tonight…or ever, for that matter. You’re going out with Stefan Marone…a man that Ginny said personified tall, dark and handsome. And you at the moment, personify, plain, simple and prudish. This will not do.

She quickly pulled her jumper over her head and discarded it on the floor. She shimmied out of her skirt and clad in only her bra and knickers walked over to her closet. Her eyes fell on a dress that she had a feeling would do quite nicely.

A few minutes later and Hermione was standing at the foot of the stairs, hoping that she wouldn’t trip in these shoes. She usually never wore shoes that had such a high heel, but the dress wouldn’t have looked good without them. With a deep breath, she made her way toward the kitchen where she heard Harry’s voice.

Her dress was simple and elegant, but with a sexy, sophisticated touch. She’d only worn this dress once before and was glad to see that it still fit perfectly. Ginny always said that a girl should always have that one little black dress and for once, Hermione had to agree. Her knee-length dress had spaghetti straps and a v-neck twisted bodice. She wore a simple black choker around her neck and a pair of diamond earrings her parents had given her for graduation. She’d worn her hair down and with a liberal amount of Sleek-Easy’s hair potion; she’d managed to style it in ringlet curls.

Both men looked up when they heard her footsteps approaching. To say both men were stunned by her appearance would have been an understatement. One of the men wore a look of pleasant surprise. The other wore a look that could only be described as dumbstruck. He tried to get a word in his mind that would adequately describe the way she looked and couldn’t find one that would do her justice. The word beautiful wouldn’t even begin to cut it, Harry thought as he looked at her. She was exchanging pleasantries with Stefan and Harry felt a pang of jealousy at the smile on Hermione’s face as she spoke to the other man.

“Is everything okay, Harry?” she asked, breaking him out of his reverie.

“Hmm?” he asked, trying to focus his attention. “Oh, yeah. Fine. You look, um…you look…”

“Stunning,” Stefan finished for him and Harry fought off the urge to throttle him as Hermione blushed and thanked Stefan for the compliment.

“Thanks,” Hermione said softly. “Shall we get going?”

Stefan nodded and followed Hermione toward the foyer. Harry brought up the rear and wondered if Hermione would be upset if he accidentally tripped Stefan.

“Do you think I’ll be okay with just my wrap?” she asked, pulling her matching black wrap around her shoulders.

“You should be fine,” Stefan said. “You know we couldn’t have asked for a more romantic evening, Hermione. It’s almost as if fate wants us to have a good evening.”

Harry coughed, but neither Hermione nor Stefan heard him. Harry looked at Hermione and wondered if she was seriously buying this line of crap. To his dismay, she smiled warmly at Stefan.

“Good night, Harry,” Hermione called to Harry as Stefan put a hand on the small of her back and pushed her lightly toward the door.

“Yeah, good night, Harvey,” Stefan said, as he followed Hermione.

“It’s Harry,” Harry corrected, but Stefan hadn’t heard him or had either chosen to ignore him. Harry stood at the door contemplating what he was going to do. As Hermione’s best friend, he certainly couldn’t allow her to be susceptible to someone as smarmy and transparent as Stefan. Hermione was still on the rebound and she didn’t need someone who was going to take advantage of her lowered defenses.

An idea came to him as he stood there and he hoped that Hermione wouldn’t be too mad when he showed up at Café La Russe. Surely, she would understand that it was for her own good that he was doing this, Harry told himself as he picked up the telephone to call Sabrina. Hopefully, Sabrina wouldn’t be too busy to enjoy a night out. She’d be an easy decoy and it wouldn’t look so suspicious for him to show up at the restaurant on his own “date”.

Hermione’s going to see right through me.

Maybe so, he told himself, but it was a chance he was willing to take.

Author’s note: Thanks for the reviews, ya’ll! I appreciate each and every one…I’ve resorted to songs for chapter titles again…I was stuck on something to title this chapter with so I dug deep and went back to the 80’s for one of my favorites…by Steve Perry “Foolish Heart”. Please read and review!

Chapter Seven

Foolish Heart 

Love's knocking on the door

Of my heart once more

Think I'll let her in...

But before I begin

Foolish heart, hear me calling

Stop before you start falling

Foolish heart, heed my warning

You've been wrong before

Don't be wrong anymore

~That same evening around midnight~

Luna and Ron finally fell asleep around 11:30 after countless attempts to put Katie down to sleep. She’d been quite cranky the last few days much to her parents’ chagrin and had kept them awake the night before and had threatened to do so again tonight. She’d finally closed her eyes at 11 and Ron and Luna, who were both knackered, fell asleep soon after.

Ron vaguely heard the sound of a knock on the door, but turned over on his side, thinking and hoping that it wasn’t a knock. Luna, too, began to stir as the knocking became more insistent. She sleepily tapped Ron on the shoulder and muttered something unintelligible as she kept her eyes closed.

“Some…at the door,” Ron said groggily, throwing the pillow over his head to block out the noise.

“Hmm,” Luna replied, pushing Ron. Stubbornly, Ron grabbed on tighter to his pillow, not wanting to get out of bed.

“Ron,” Luna said, nudging him harder this time. “There’s someone at the door.”

She pushed him hard and he promptly fell on the bed, which killed two birds with one stone as it woke him up and got him out of bed. As a result, he promptly cursed loudly which prompted Luna to hiss, “RON!”

He rubbed his head gingerly and got shakily to his feet. The knocking continued and Ron groaned. “It’s nearly midnight.”

“It could be important,” Luna said, rising out of bed with a yawn. “It doesn’t look as if they’re going away.”

Ron grabbed his wand from the bedside table.

“What do you need that for?” she asked.

“I’m going to hex whoever this bastard is who decided to come over here in the middle of the night,” Ron said determinedly.

“Aim first and ask questions later?” Luna asked, teasingly.

Ron, however, wasn’t laughing. “Damn right.”

“Oh, put that down before you hurt someone,” Luna said dismissively, throwing on her dressing gown. “Let’s go see who it is.”

Ron reluctantly followed Luna down the hall and toward the front door of their flat. As he did so, he managed to stub his toe not once, but twice, and let forth a slew of expletives. Luna gave him a warning look as she reached the door.

“It’s my toe!” he exclaimed, limping behind her.

“You are such a baby,” she said, standing on her tiptoes so she could see through the peephole. “How you got sorted into Gryffindor is beyond me.”

Ron opened his mouth to protest, but Luna’s announcement of who was at their door stopped him.

“It’s Harry,” she said softly, before undoing the locks and swinging the door open.

“Hey,” Harry said, not waiting to be asked inside. He looked quite upset about something and was dressed quite nicely.

“If you’ve come over here because you aren’t sure if that tie goes with that suit,” Ron began, “I’m going to kill you.”

Harry didn’t respond and continued to pace in the hallway. Luna closed the door and exchanged a worried glance with Ron.

“What is it?” she asked hesitantly. “Are you alright?”

Harry shook his head.

Ron’s anger ebbed away as he saw the look on his best friend’s face. He hadn’t seen Harry look this upset in a long time.

Harry continued to pace in front of them as Ron and Luna exchanged confused looks. After a few moments of silence, it suddenly dawned on Luna that something horrible must have happened to have Harry in such a state.

“Oh no,” she gasped and grabbed on to Ron’s arm. “Did something happen?”

Harry looked up and saw the confused, concerned expressions on his friends’ faces and felt stupid for barging in on them and looking and acting the way he was. He vehemently shook his head.

“No, as far as I know, nothing’s happened to anyone,” he replied.

“Well, then what is it?” Luna asked, watching as he slumped against the wall.

“Me,” he said simply.

“You?” Ron asked.

Harry could only nod.

Luna exchanged another look with Ron before suggesting that they move their talk into the sitting room to avoid waking Katie.

“I’m sorry,” Harry said. “I should just go.”

“No,” Ron said, leading his friend into the sitting room while Luna headed in the opposite direction to the kitchen. “We’re already awake and you’re obviously upset about something. Luna’s gone to get some tea for us. Sit down and tell me what’s going on.”

“I really am sorry,” Harry said taking a seat on a chair as Ron took the seat opposite him on the sofa. “I just didn’t know where else to go.”

“It’s alright,” Ron said with a smile. “But, you do realize that you are living with your other best friend. Couldn’t you have spoken to Hermione about whatever’s troubling you? She is the more sensitive one out of the three of us. She could probably help you out more than I could. I mean…”

Harry looked up at Ron as if Ron had just suggested that he jump off of a bridge.

“What?” Ron asked confused. “What’s that look for? You can’t talk to Hermione?”

Harry shook his head and sank lower in his chair.

“Since when?” Ron asked taken aback. “The two of you can usually finish each other’s sentences.”

“I can’t tell Hermione about this,” Harry said grimly. He looked away from Ron’s questioning gaze.

Ron looked thoughtfully at him wondering what in the world Harry’s problem could be. He was obviously troubled about something; something he couldn’t divulge to his female best friend. This was something that he obviously felt more comfortable talking about with his male best friend. Something that bothered him so much, Harry had come over to Ron’s flat in the middle of the night. Suddenly a thought occurred to Ron and he honestly never thought Harry would have had a problem like this.

“Merlin, Harry!”

“Yeah?” Harry said, looking up.

“Well, you know this is something that I haven’t really had a lot of experience with,” Ron began, “Luna and I’ve never…I mean I’ve always been able to…rise to the occasion, as it were…”

Harry stared back at his friend in disbelief. “What the hell are you talking about?”

“You know,” Ron said. He looked to the left and then to the right and heard the sound of dishes clattering in the kitchen and knew that Luna was out of earshot and probably couldn’t hear what they were saying. “Your...”

Harry’s eyes narrowed. “My…?”

Ron shifted uncomfortably in his seat. “You know your inability to…”

“My inability to what?”

Ron rolled his eyes. “Your inability to use your, um, wand, to its full capability at the right time, as it were.” He looked expectantly, yet embarrassedly, at Harry.

“What are you talking about?” Harry asked, dumbfounded.

“Your erectile dysfunction,” Ron spat out rather loudly.

“My what?” Harry said angrily. “I don’t have that!”

“Yes you do,” Ron retorted.

“No, I do not,” Harry said, shaking his head. “And I think I would know!”

“Well, why else would you be over here in the middle of the night upset about something,” Ron asked. “Something that you can talk to me about, but can’t talk to Hermione about?”

Harry got quickly to his feet and let out a laugh. “I can assure you, Ron, that it’s not that.”

Luna came into the sitting room just then carrying a tray of steaming cups of tea.

“Would you two kindly keep it down?” she hissed, setting the tray down on the coffee table.

“Sorry,” Ron and Harry both said sheepishly.

“What were you two on about anyway?” Luna asked, taking a seat beside Ron on the sofa.

Ron’s cheeks reddened. “Well, we were talking about Harry’s problem with-“

“I don’t have that problem!” Harry exclaimed.

“I think you do,” Ron said quietly.

“What problem?” Luna asked, looking back and for between them.

“Harry’s—“ Ron began, but Harry cut him off.

“OH FOR MERLIN’S SAKE! I DON’T HAVE ERECTILE DYSFUNCTION, RON! I CAME HERE TONIGHT BECAUSE I NEARLY KISSED HERMIONE TONIGHT!” Harry exclaimed loudly.

Ron and Luna both stared at him in stunned silence. Harry sank back down on the chair.

“H-how did that happen exactly?” Luna asked softly.

“I thought she had a date with that bloke Ginny set her up with,” Ron said confused.

“She did,” Harry said simply.

“Well?” Ron asked.

When Harry didn’t reply, Ron sighed impatiently. “Merlin’s beard! It’s like pulling teeth. Are you going to tell us what happened or aren’t you? Because if you’re not, I’d like to get back to bed if it’s all the same to you.”

Harry looked at his two friends and knew that he should tell them what happened if they were going to help him figure out what to do.

“Okay,” he said. “I’ll tell you.”

Luna and Ron leaned forward, both literally nearly on the edge of their seats wanting to know exactly what had happened.

Harry genuinely felt bad about using Sabrina as he was, but he couldn’t show up at the restaurant alone and he didn’t know of anyone else to call on such short notice. To his great relief, she’d readily accepted and he’d changed into one of his nicest suits as he knew that Café La Russe was one of the most posh restaurants in all of London. It was also a Muggle restaurant that Hermione loved and that he’d taken her to on a number of special occasions---usually her birthday, or to celebrate her graduation from University or to celebrate her getting her new job at the Ministry.

It was an elegant, intimate restaurant that

He’d never, however, taken anyone on a date here…until tonight. But, this wasn’t really a date, Harry kept telling himself. This was more like a covert, fact-finding mission. He was doing what he did best, he told himself. Protecting those he loved from those who were out to harm them. Admittedly, he didn’t know this Stefan Marone. But, Harry knew his type. This guy was probably throwing a still on the rebound Hermione every line in the book. And, in her vulnerable state, Harry was sure she was eating up every word of it.

So, at a little after 7:30, he and Sabrina were standing before the maitre d who was about to seat them.

“We’re a little crowded tonight, sir,” he was saying. “I will probably have to seat you upstairs.”

Harry opened his mouth to protest because he could see Hermione and Stefan seated in the middle of the restaurant. How was he going to be able to keep tabs on them if he was upstairs?

“Are you sure that there’s nothing downstairs?” Harry asked pointedly.

“Positive, sir,” the maitre d replied. He picked up two menus and was about to lead Harry and Sabrina upstairs when Harry stopped him.

“Could I have a moment?” he asked.

“What’s going on?” Sabrina asked.

“I want us to have the best table,” Harry lied. “You usually have to throw on the charm or throw some added incentive at these blokes.”

Sabrina grinned. “Go right ahead.”

Harry gave her a smile before taking the man to the side for a private word.

“Yes sir?” the maitre d said impatiently.

Harry smiled. “I’m not asking you to sit us downstairs. I just need you to take us past a table in the restaurant as if you were sitting us downstairs.”

“Pardon?” the maitre d asked pulling a puzzled face.

Harry gestured toward Hermione’s table and the maitre’d followed his gaze.

“I need you to walk us past that girl’s table,” Harry said, pulling out his wallet and unfolding some money. “If she does what I think she will, she’ll invite us to sit with her.”

“Wouldn’t you be more comfortable upstairs?”

“No,” Harry said resolutely. He handed over 50 quid and the maitre d hesitated only a moment before nodding.

“Madame, Sir…if you’ll follow me,” he said, grabbing two menus and gesturing for Harry and Sabrina to follow him.

“I’m very impressed,” Sabrina said, taking hold of Harry’s hand as they walked through the restaurant.

Harry’s eyes were trained solely on Hermione and tried his best to act surprised when he caught her glance.

“Harry?” she asked, looking up.

“I didn’t know the two of you were going to be here!” Harry said, feigning shock. Hermione’s brow furrowed and Harry hoped she didn’t recall that he was there when Ginny told her what restaurant Stefan was taking her to. Everything hinged on her thinking this was purely coincidental.

“Yeah,” Hermione said, looking past Harry at Sabrina. “Hello, Sabrina.”

“Hello, Hermione,” Sabrina said warmly.

Stefan shot Harry a look of annoyance, but Harry chose not to acknowledge it or his presence.

“Um, Stefan Marone…this is Sabrina...she’s Harry’s…,” Hermione’s voice trailed off. She didn’t honestly know what to call Sabrina.

“Date,” Harry finished for her. Sabrina’s face fell at this. She’d been expecting Harry to use the word girlfriend, but she covered quickly and looked at Hermione’s date. Stefan arose out of his chair and shook Sabrina’s proffered hand.

“This is really some coincidence, isn’t it?” Harry asked with a smile at Hermione who nodded.

“Hey! I’ve got an idea!” Harry said, looking at the maitre d. “Would it be alright with you if we sat with them instead?”

The maitre d looked impatiently at Harry.

“Whatever you wish, sir,” the maitre d said and motioned for two waiters to bring two extra chairs to the table.

“You don’t mind do you Stefan?” Harry asked, finally looking at Hermione’s date who had a smile fixed on his face, but Harry could tell that the man wasn’t pleased at all with this turn of events. It took every restraint Harry had not to scream out “Gotcha!”

“No,” Stefan said, through clenched teeth. “I don’t mind as long as Hermione doesn’t mind.”

Harry turned to Hermione and gave her his most winsome, charming smile.

“Why not?” Hermione asked, not really relishing watching Sabrina shoot lingering looks at Harry all night, but she couldn’t very well be rude and refuse right in front of them, could she?

Harry beamed at her and helped Sabrina to her seat and took his own, in between Stefan and Hermione.

“Isn’t this cozy?” he asked, looking at Stefan.

After a very awkward thirty minutes, their meal arrived and the two couples ate their food enjoying an excuse to be silent. Harry couldn’t remember ever being in a more awkward situation in his life. This was almost like having Christmas dinner at Snape’s house…or at least what he imagined that would be like.

To Harry’s delight, he’d managed to steer Stefan and Hermione away from any direct conversation. He’d even managed to steer the conversation to topics or inside jokes that he and Hermione shared.

After they’d all finished their meals, Harry was about to turn to Hermione and say something else when to his horror, Stefan looked out at the small dance floor where a handful of couples were moving to the soft, romantic music playing. Knowing he had to act now, Harry turned to Hermione.

“What do you say, Hermione?” he said, getting to his feet and offering her his hand. “Want to trip the light fantastic?”

“The what?” Hermione asked with a laugh.

“You remember that old movie you and I were watching the other night?” he said with a grin. “That’s what they called dancing…care to join me?”

“Since when do you ever volunteer to dance?” she asked skeptically.

“Since I know you like this song,” he said, giving her his best puppy dog eyes.

Hermione hesitated and looked at Stefan who seemed to be fuming and Sabrina who didn’t look all that happy with this turn of events, either. Knowing she should decline, she was surprised to find herself unable to say no to those twinkling green eyes.

“Okay,” she said, taking Harry’s hand and allowing him to lead her onto the floor.

Harry smiled a little awkwardly at her as he took her in his arms and they slowly moved to the music.

“When was the last time we did this?” he asked in her ear.

Hermione laughed. “Ron and Luna’s wedding. As I remember you wanted to see where it was written that the maid of honour and the best man had to dance together.”

Harry grinned sheepishly. “I was looking out for you, Hermione. I didn’t want to crush your toes.”

Hermione laughed. “Uh-huh. Well, it’s good to know that you’re bad at something.”

“What?”

“Well, you excel at practically everything you do,” she said. “Nice to know that you are bad at some things. It makes you seem human, Boy-Who-Lived.”

“Ha-ha,” Harry said. “Are you saying I’m bad at this?”

He pulled away from her a little and stared at her, looking mock affronted.

“You’ve improved,” she said with a grin.

“We should do this more often,” he said, pulling her close again, and felt himself getting almost intoxicated on her sweet scent.

“Go on double dates?” she joked.

“No,” Harry whispered into her ear. Hermione lifted her head from his chest and looked up at him in surprise. The dim light illuminated her face and Harry couldn’t remember ever seeing her look more beautiful than she did at that very moment. Their faces were inches apart and he felt himself leaning in toward her. And then, he felt a tap on his shoulder.

“Mind if I cut in?” Stefan was saying. Harry turned to see Stefan smiling at Hermione.

“Uh-sure,” Harry said, still wondering what had just happened between him and Hermione. What had he been about to do to his best friend before…

Harry gave a nervous smile to Hermione before letting go of her and walking back to the table and Sabrina.

She stared out at the dance floor wistfully and hoped that Harry would take the initiative and ask her to dance, but he just sat back down in his chair. .

“They make a nice couple, don’t they?” she asked, her eyes falling on Stefan and Hermione, who were dancing rather close.

“Yeah,” Harry said sarcastically.

“Care to join them on the dance floor?” Sabrina said, winking at him.

“I’ve had enough dancing for one night,” Harry said, not even looking at her.

Harry didn’t say anything and for the first time that evening Sabrina noticed and put two and two together…or at least one and one and she sadly realized that it wasn’t she and Harry, but Harry and…Hermione.

“Why did you invite me here?” she asked pointedly. She tapped Harry on the shoulder and he tore his eyes from Hermione and stared at Sabrina.

“What?” he asked softly, with a slight smile.

“Why did you ask me out tonight?” she asked.

Harry stammered and Sabrina let out a hollow laugh.

“I have a feeling it isn’t because you wanted to spend time with me,” she said softly.

“That’s not true,” Harry argued.

“It’s not?” she asked. “Harry, you’ve barely said more than two words to me since we sat down. When it came time to dance, you don’t ask me, you ask Hermione. Why?”

He didn’t answer her because he didn’t honestly know.

“No answer,” she said, shaking her head. “Brilliant.”

“Sabrina,” Harry began his voice apologetic. He did genuinely feel sorry for how he’d treated her tonight, but had no idea how to express it without getting a glass of water poured over his head.

“Save it,” she said, getting to her feet. “Go ahead and sit here all night like the pathetic loser that you are and moon over your best friend, Harry. You know all of my life, I’ve heard about what a brave, courageous man Harry Potter was. Imagine my shock and surprise to find out that he’s nothing but a coward. He’s in love with his best friend and he can’t even tell her. Such a brave Gryffindor you are, huh Harry?”

He looked away from her, unable to bear her accusing gaze and he wanted somehow to block out her words that he wanted to say weren’t true, but he couldn’t bring himself to say it. He honestly didn’t know how he felt about Hermione. Nothing was making sense.

“I’ll see myself home,” Sabrina said crossly, grabbing her purse and huffily walking away. He knew he should follow her, but he couldn’t bring himself to get up. His eyes fell on Hermione who was now dancing closely with Stefan.

He was so busy looking at them; he hadn’t seen or heard the waiter come back to the table.

“Sir?”

Harry turned startled to face the man who was holding a dessert menu.

“What?” Harry asked.

“I asked if you knew what you wanted?” the waiter asked holding out the menu for Harry.

“Do I know what I want?” Harry repeated, stealing another glance at Hermione. He somehow managed to get to his feet again and left some money on the table.

”Sir?” the waiter called to him.

“I have no bloody idea what I want,” Harry said over his shoulder as he walked away. “No idea.”

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

“So that’s it?” Luna asked when Harry finished relating the story. “Did you even say goodbye to Hermione?”

Harry shook his head. “I walked around a bit before coming here. I needed to clear my head.”

“And did you?” Ron asked. “Clear your head, I mean?”

“No,” Harry said morosely. “I’m more confused than ever.”

To Harry’s surprise, Ron began to laugh.

“Glad to see that my emotional turmoil is so amusing, Ron,” Harry spat at him.

“It’s not that,” Ron said, trying to keep a straight face. “But come on, Harry. You know that for two smart people, you and Hermione sure are awfully dense. Especially you.”

“Me?”

“Yeah, you,” Ron replied. “Have you ever asked yourself why you’ve never settled down with anyone yet?”

“Because I haven’t found the right one,” Harry gave his stock reply.

Ron guffawed which only infuriated Harry even further.

“That’s rubbish and you know it,” Ron said. “The right one has been right in front of you the whole time. None of those other girls came close to meaning to you what she always has meant to you and you bloody well know it.”

Harry looked to Luna for support, but she shook her head. “I have to agree with Ron on this one.”

”Come on,” Harry said defensively.

“Why did you follow her tonight?” Luna asked him pointedly.

Harry looked thoughtful for a moment. “Because I was worried about her.”

“I see,” Luna said, folding her arms across her chest. “So, she’s your best friend and you want her to be happy and find someone who makes her happy and loves her and cares about her, right?”

“Of course,” Harry replied.

“And you’ve never liked any of her boyfriends,” Luna pointed out. “Just as she’s never liked anyone you’ve gone out with.”

“Come on, Luna, even you have to admit that Brian was wrong for her,” Harry said.

“Why?”

“Because he…I don’t know!” he said shaking his head. “He just was!”

He couldn’t stand sitting there under both Ron and Luna’s questioning, accusing gazes. He got to his feet and began to pace in front of the window.

“And this Stefan?” Luna asked. “All she did was go out on a date, Harry. What’s so wrong about that?”

“Nothing,” Harry said shakily. “But he’s all wrong for her.”

“Why?” Luna asked.

“Because she deserves better,” Harry responded. “She deserves someone who knows how special she is, Luna. She deserves to have someone who can’t wait to see the look on her face when she’s happy. She needs someone who cares more about her than he ever has anyone in his whole life. She deserves someone who knows that this isn’t a perfect world and that bad things happen, but at the end of the day, it seems as if everything is going to be okay, because she’s there.”

Luna exchanged a triumphant look with Ron.

“She deserves you,” Luna said softly, walking over to her friend and putting a hand on his shoulder. Harry hesitantly looked back at her.

“And you deserve her,” Luna said with a smile.

Harry didn’t know what to say.

“What are you afraid of?” Ron asked.

“Losing her,” Harry said honestly.

“Well don’t fuck this up then,” Ron said with a smile, but his tone was serious.

Harry smiled a genuine smile for the first time since he’s arrived at their flat.

“Easier said than done,” he said.

They talked a little bit more before Harry knew it was time to go on back home. He hoped that Hermione was already asleep because he honestly wasn’t ready to face her just yet.

Ron walked him out and Luna went to check on Katie.

“Thanks, mate,” Harry said.

“It’s what I’m here for,” Ron said yawning. “Just try and call at a reasonable hour next time, huh?”

”Okay,” Harry said with a chuckle.

He was nearly down the hall before Ron called out to him.

“Harry?”

“Yeah?”

”You break her heart and I’ll cripple you,” Ron said sternly before shutting the door firmly behind him.

Author’s note: I know this chapter is a little on the short side, but I promise to make up for it in the next chapters. You can hold me to that! There are a couple of lines from the novel that this story is based on that I used in this chapter…couldn’t resist…they are really good lines. Again, I highly recommend that you guys read that book “Just Friends” by Robyn Zisman…very good book.

Chapter Eight

Ron to the Rescue…Again

When Harry returned that evening from visiting with Ron and Luna, Hermione had long since been asleep. To Harry’s relief, she’d been alone. Truth be told, he had felt foolish that evening when he’d returned home and passed her closed bedroom door. Logically, he knew Hermione wasn’t the type to sleep with someone on the first date, but he didn’t know what sort of sneaky, smarmy tricks that Stefan would try on her. So, he’d hesitated only a moment before cracking the door open just a little to check that she was indeed home, asleep, and alone. She had been all three and he couldn’t have been more pleased and relieved.

And although he now knew how he felt about her, he wasn’t in any hurry to tell her. For one thing, he was afraid of looking like complete idiot. Hermione wasn’t just some girl he could feed a couple of lines to. She wasn’t someone who would fall for the old Potter charm. He couldn’t be “fake” with her even if he tried. Another thing that had him more afraid than he’d care to admit was that she wouldn’t return his feelings. He kept having this vision of confessing his feelings to her and having her roll her eyes and say “Honestly, Harry!” If this went horribly wrong, their friendship could be irrevocably damaged. That was something he wasn’t willing to risk until he had some clear idea of how to flesh out how she felt about him.

There had been times, of course, when he’d thought that she might have some sort of feelings for him. That whole thing with Sabrina, when she’d walked in on them kissing. He had seen the look in her eyes and he hadn’t seen her look that hurt in quite some time. But, why was she hurt? That Harry would have so little respect for her that he’d go at it with another woman when she could come home at anytime? Or, Harry liked to think, was it because she didn’t like the thought of him with another woman anymore than he could stomach the idea of her with another man.

In the past few days, he’d revisited that moment they’d shared at the restaurant. On the dance floor, he had been about to kiss her. If that wanker Stefan hadn’t interrupted them, Harry would have kissed her. The look in her eyes and on her face when he’d leaned in hadn’t been one of disgust or disbelief. She had leaned in too, Harry remembered. Then, he’d argue with himself about how he may have just remembered the facts of that night as he wanted to, not as they really were.

So, on the following Tuesday, he was no where near coming up with a solution than he’d been before. Worse than that, he’d seem to have lost the ability to communicate coherently when she was in the room. This had made for some awkward, embarrassing conversations between them. Truth be told, they hadn’t had much time together in the past few days. Hermione had been assigned a huge case and she’d put in extra hours at the Ministry to do research. So, whenever Harry was home, Hermione was out and vice versa. Harry felt his cheeks redden when he remembered the conversation he’d had with her last night when he’d bumped into her in the hall as she was heading toward her bedroom and he was heading downstairs to watch some television.

“Hello, stranger,” Hermione joked as she smiled warmly at him.

Harry laughed nervously and was fidgeting.

“Long see no time,” he mumbled.

Hermione stared back at him nonplussed.

“What?’

“I-I mean it’s been a…long time,” he managed to choke out. “Since we saw each other and all.”

Hermione nodded and gestured toward the two large tomes in her hands. “I hated to do it, but I had to bring these books home with me. I just couldn’t stand looking at the same four walls of my office another second.”

Harry nodded dumbly at her.

“Is everything okay?” she asked.

“Yeah,” he said a little too quickly. “I’m just going to head downstairs to watch a little telly before bed.”

Hermione nodded and watched as Harry headed in the opposite direction from the stairs and toward his bedroom.

“Harry?”

“Yeah?” he asked, turning around.

”I thought you were going downstairs?”

“I am,” Harry said with a shrug.

“But downstairs is that way,” she said, motioning with her head to the staircase behind her.

“Uh-huh,” Harry managed to say before walking back into his bedroom and closing the door behind him, but not before seeing a very confused Hermione staring after him.

Thankfully, tonight was Trio Tuesday and Harry was feeling both nervous and excited to see Hermione. She’d left a note for him this morning saying that she had to work late, but that she would show up at O’Malley’s. Harry arrived at the usual time and wasn’t surprised to see Ron was already there at the usual table.

Harry couldn’t hide a smile as he saw Ron looking hungrily at the plate of steak and chips that was set before him.

“Nice of you to wait,” Harry said, taking a seat opposite Ron.

“I haven’t eaten since lunch,” Ron said defensively. “And if your girlfriend has anything to say about it, I’ll tell her to stuff it because I am tired of defending my eating habits with you lot. It’s bad enough I had to do it with my mum and now with my wife that I have to deal with it from you two as well.”

“I didn’t say anything!” Harry said, motioning for the waitress.

Ron didn’t reply and simply took a bite of his food. Harry ordered a drink and a sandwich and tried not to laugh as Ron happily tucked into his food.

“So,” Ron said, taking a break.

“So?”

“Did you tell her yet?” Ron asked.

Harry shook his head. “I haven’t had a chance.”

“You live with her,” Ron said, staring back at him in disbelief. “Her room is four doors down from yours. How hard would it be to knock on her door and say, ‘Mione, I love you and want to be with you always and forever’. You know that romantic rubbish that girls eat up.”

“I don’t know why I hadn’t thought of that before,” Harry said sarcastically. “I didn’t realize that was all I had to do.”

Ron chose to ignore Harry’s comment. “Do you mean to tell me that you haven’t said anything to her yet?”

“I haven’t had a chance…I already told you that.”

Ron snickered and put his fork down and shook his head in amusement at Harry.

“Okay…okay…let me get this straight. You can defeat You-Know-Who and countless number of dark wizards around the world, but telling your best friend that you love her…”

“Terrifies me,” Harry finished.

“Why?” Ron asked. “Come on, Harry. I would be willing to bet my entire week’s wages on her having the same feelings for you.”

“It’s not that easy,” Harry retorted. “You act as if I can just walk up to her, kiss her, tell her I love her and we live happily ever after. It doesn’t work like that.”

“I know it doesn’t work like that,” Ron shot back. “But if you keep doing what I think you’re doing, you’re going to talk yourself out of it and miss out on the best thing that’s ever happened to you.”

The waitress came back with Harry’s drink and smiled warmly at him, but he didn’t even notice. She exchanged a shrug with Ron before walking off.

“I just have to wait for the right time,” Harry said determinedly.

Ron was about to reply when Hermione breezed in and sighed as she sat down.

“You look awful, Mione,” Ron said, with his mouth entirely full of steak.

Hermione’s skin was pale and her hair was in a sloppy plait, but Harry didn’t think she looked awful at all…just tired.

“And your table manners are excellent as always,” Hermione deadpanned.

Ron glared back at her, but Hermione turned to Harry. “I’m sorry I missed you this morning. I thought we could have at least had breakfast together, but I received an urgent owl this morning and I had to leave for the office straightaway.”

“It’s okay,” Harry said, shrugging. “Did you finish up?”

She was about to reply, but the waitress came up to their table just then to take her order. Hermione quickly rattled off a request for a diet soda and a BLT sandwich before looking back at her two best friends.

“Sorry about that,” she sighed, leaning back in her chair. “Yes, Harry, I did finish up.”

“I thought you would have been a little happier about it,” Harry said.

“I am,” she said with a slight smile. “But, I have that wedding to go to this weekend.”

“Who’s getting married?” Ron asked.

“My cousin Rachel,” Hermione said, a pained expression coming over her face.

“Rachel?” Ron asked, trying to remember where he’d heard her name before. He snapped his fingers as the recollection came to him. “Was she the cousin that tore up your entire set of encyclopedias when you were six?”

Hermione exchanged a look with Harry. “How is it that you can’t remember the crucial ingredients for a forgetfulness potion, but you remember that my cousin ruined one of my favorite Christmas presents?”

Ron shrugged and tapped his forehead with his index finger. “Selective memory.”

Harry took this as his cue to step in before another row erupted between his two friends. “So, Hermione, when do you have to leave for Rachel’s?”

Hermione groaned. “Thursday evening. The wedding is Saturday but they’re having a bunch of parties that I am obligated to attend as a member of the Granger family.”

“Not taking Stefan with you?” Harry couldn’t resist asking. He hadn’t quite gotten up the courage to ask her about how the date went with him until now.

Hermione narrowed her eyes. “Good heavens, no. What would give you that idea?”

“Well,” Harry stammered. “You seemed to have a nice time on your date the other evening. I figure you could ask him to tag along…”

Hermione shook her head. “He’s a nice bloke and all, but there weren’t any sparks. Besides, I wouldn’t subject him to that branch of the Granger family. I wouldn’t wish that on my worst enemy.”

“You okay going to this by yourself?” Harry asked.

Hermione looked thoughtful. “Not really. It would be nice to have some other source of moral support other than my parents, but they think Rachel’s great so I guess I’ll be flying solo.”

At that moment, Harry felt someone kick his shin hard under the table. He winced and looked at Ron who was raising his eyebrows at him.

“Are you okay?” Hermione asked, concerned.

Harry nodded, but looked angrily back at Ron. “Yeah, just hit my knee on the, um, table leg is all.”

“Ouch,” Hermione said sympathetically. “I’m just going to pop over to the loo. I’ll be right back.”

Harry nodded and waited until she was out of earshot and line of vision before returning the favor to Ron. Ron yelped as Harry’s foot connected with Ron’s shin.

“Hey!” Ron exclaimed. “What did you do that for?”

“I could ask the same of you,” Harry shot back.

“Again, I’d be concerned if I were you, Harry, because I’m the one who is seeing the obvious,” Ron answered matter-of-factly. “Usually, you have to beat me over the head so I’ll get the point. Never thought I’d see the day when it’d be you and Hermione.”

“What are you talking about?” Harry asked.

“That wedding, of course,” Ron said.

”What about it?”

“You should take Hermione,” Ron said simply. “You’d be alone with her and you’d be there for her at a time when she’s going to need you most. You’re practically guaranteed at the least a good snog if you do this.”

“Do you think so?” Harry asked.

Ron nodded enthusiastically.

The more Harry thought about Ron’s idea, the more he liked it. He would be able to spend some quality time alone with Hermione in beautiful, beachfront Brighton. They’d get to talk and he could start to suss out if Hermione might feel the same way about him as he did about her.

“She’s coming back now,” Ron said, peering over Harry’s shoulder to where Hermione was striding toward them. Ron pushed his chair back. “I’ll leave you to it. Don’t say anything stupid and you’re in with a chance, Harry. I’ll be back in a bit.”

Harry watched as Ron walked away and then a few seconds later Hermione retook her seat.

”Where’d Ron go?” she asked, taking a sip of her soda.

“He wanted to check in with Luna about Katie,” Harry said quickly.

“It’s so good to see you,” she said with a smile. “It feels like we’ve been two ships passing in the night lately. I’ve missed you.”

She reached over the table and patted his hand affectionately.

“I-I’ve missed you, too,” he said softly, enjoying the feeling of her hand on his.

“So how are things in the big, bad evil chasing business these days?” she asked.

He laughed. “You know, you catch one bad guy…there’s still a load left to catch.”

She giggled, but she quickly turned serious. “Harry, I’ve been worried about you lately. You’ve been a little out of sorts lately.”

He felt his cheeks redden a little bit. “You’re being polite. I figure I’ve been a lot out of sorts lately.”

“You should take a vacation,” she said leaning forward in her chair. “You’re always working these days. You should take a few days off and just…be.”

He couldn’t believe how easy she was making this for him. She had just provided the opening he’d needed. With a deep breath, he looked over at her with a grin.

“Funny you should mention that,” he began. What he was about to say wasn’t exactly the truth, but he knew if he asked Remus, he could get the time off. Just the other day, Remus had mentioned the same thing about Harry needing to take some time off.

“I, um, have some time off this weekend,” he said.

“And you’ll have the house to yourself,” she said. “I’ll be out of your way.”

“Hermione…you’re never in my way,” he said genuinely. His eyes locked on hers and Hermione felt that familiar feeling she always got in her stomach when Harry focused solely on her.

She blushed. He looked away and tried to collect his thoughts and say what he was about to say without sounding stupid.

“The thing is that I don’t have any idea what to do with myself with that time off and I heard that there was this nice wedding in Brighton,” he said with a sideways glance at her.

Hermione couldn’t believe what she’d just heard come out of Harry’s mouth. He couldn’t actually be asking to take her to Rachel’s wedding, could he?

Harry started jabbing her arm repeatedly with his finger. “I’ve had a brilliant idea!”

“Stop doing that,” she said with a laugh, swatting his hand away.

“Listen,” he said, pulling his chair closer. “You want someone to come to this wedding with you, right?”

Hermione nodded.

“Someone respectable…good-looking…”

“Yeah,” Hermione said slowly.

“Preferably male…someone you like,” he said pointedly. “Someone that wants to pay you back for the millions of times that you’ve saved his sorry arse?”

He looked at Hermione and raised his eyebrows at her as if the answer was obvious.

She looked quizzically at him. “You’ll have to narrow it down for me…”

He looked affronted for a moment, before Hermione burst out laughing. “Harry, don’t be stupid.”

“Why is that stupid?” he asked, his face falling.

“Because you go to a wedding like this with your boyfriend,” she answered. “Which I don’t have at the moment.”

“Rachel doesn’t have to know that,” Harry said simply.

“What?” Hermione asked.

“I could pretend to be your boyfriend in front of this Rachel person,” Harry replied.

“Okay, that’s just sad and desperate,” Hermione said. “Besides, I wouldn’t subject you to Rachel. I already said I wouldn’t wish that on my worst enemy and you are as far from my worst enemy as could possibly be. You’re my best friend, Harry.”

Harry took her hand. “And you’re mine, Hermione. I want to do this.”

“You really want to spend your weekend gazing at me adoringly and holding my hand and whispering sweet nothings in my ear?” she asked skeptically.

As a matter of fact, I do.

“I think I could handle it,” Harry said, smiling at her.

Hermione felt a tingle through her entire body at the way he was smiling at her and at his touch.

“I want to help you, Hermione.”

“I would totally understand if you didn’t want to do this, Harry,” Hermione said quickly. “You are under no obligation to do this because you feel like you owe me for something. If anything, it’s me that should be paying you back. You’ve given me a place to live and a shoulder to cry on.”

Harry tightened his grip on her hand. “You’ve done so much more for me…you don’t even realize how much. Let me do this for you, Hermione.”

For an awful moment, he thought she was going to turn him down, but he saw a smile playing on her lips as she met his gaze.

“You’re on,” she replied.

Author’s note: I am sorry for making you guys wait, but real life got in the way this past week. But, I sat down today and just wrote and wrote so now you have Chapter Nine. I hope you like it…I was listening to my Go-Go’s Greatest Hits CD, so you get a song with this one! One of my favorites, actually! Please read and review!

Chapter Nine

Head over heels

Been running so hard
When what I need is to unwind
The voice of reason
Is one I left so far behind
I waited so long
So long to play this part
And just remembered
That I'd forgotten about my heart

(Go-Go’s, “Head Over Heels”)

Being as she was in no hurry to get to Brighton, Hermione didn’t put up a fight when Harry suggested they take the train. Although she knew full well that apparating would make much more sense and would be far less time consuming than a train ride, she found that she didn’t mind being on the train at all. It had been quite some time since she’d traveled on a train and being on one now with Harry brought back memories of the Hogwarts Express. She had to stop herself from looking out into the corridor to see the old lady with the food cart.

She and Harry had found an empty compartment toward the back of the train and she had taken up one of the bench seats and he sat directly opposite her. Well…he had been sitting. He was now sprawled out on the bench seat fast asleep. Hermione smiled as she looked at him. Although she’d never tell him this for fear of insulting his level of masculinity, she found him positively adorable when he slept. Of course, she reminded herself, she pretty much thought Harry was adorable the majority of the time regardless.

She kept telling herself to see Harry as just her friend. It seemed like a nearly impossible task, especially when he kept doing such nice things for her like letting her move in with him and his latest gesture. This had to be going above and beyond the call of duty as a friend. She had a feeling that to Harry defeating Voldemort would seem like a picnic compared to subjecting himself to Rachel and her snotty friends.

Last night when they were both packing, she kept sticking her head out her door and calling to him down the hall that she was eternally grateful to him for doing this and she couldn’t believe he was doing this for her. She’d said thank you to him so much that he’d said if she said it once more, he was going to change his mind and stay home. Needless to say, she hadn’t said the word thank you to him once except when he’d helped her with her suitcase and he’d raised an eyebrow at her.

Now as the train was speeding toward Brighton, she looked down at the book on her lap and knowing full well that she hadn’t really read a word, she closed it and placed it beside her. Her mind went back to the one topic that had been bothering her for quite some time now. While she and Harry hadn’t seen much of each other in the last couple of weeks, when she had seen him, he’d acted quite strangely. She’d wondered if the stress of his job was finally getting to him. While Harry liked to have a good time, he was also dedicated to his work and Hermione hadn’t known him to take a vacation in nearly two years. He’d taken the occasional long weekend, but he’d always been on call. This, as he had told her last night, was the first time he’d be completely on leave from his job and the worries and stress that came along with it. She was glad he was finally taking some time for himself. If anyone needed a vacation, it was Harry.

But, still, she wondered if that was all it was. Stress from his job that was making him suddenly strange around her. She tried to shake those thoughts off and say that it could be nothing more than stress. That was naturally what it had to be.

He faced life and death situations so regularly, it only made sense that it would all catch up to him and he’d be on the verge of burnout. That had to be the reason why he seemed to have trouble stringing words together for coherent sentences. She’d even gotten the impression a couple of times that he’d been quite flustered around her. This, when she thought about it, didn’t make sense at all. She and Harry knew each other very well. Sometimes, she figured she knew Harry better than he knew himself and vice versa. There wasn’t any logical reason for him to feel nervous or uncomfortable around someone he’d known since he was 11 years old. But, there was something different in how he was acting toward her. Of that she was most certain.

She’d also thought that maybe it had to do with Sabrina. But, that didn’t make much sense either. Harry hadn’t given Hermione the impression that he was looking to get serious with Sabrina or anyone else for that matter. To her knowledge, Harry hadn’t seen or spoken to Sabrina since that night at Café La Russe. She hadn’t broached the subject of Sabrina with him and he certainly hadn’t volunteered any information on it so Hermione had kept quiet about her.

Even more troubling to Hermione was what had nearly happened between them on the dance floor at the restaurant. She was nearly certain that Harry had been about to kiss her when Stefan had interrupted. But, she’d told herself over and over again, that had to have been her imagination. It was something that she’d wanted for so long, she was kidding herself into thinking it was about to happen.

Hermione looked out of the train window at the scenery passing by. The train compartment was quite cool and she regretted not bringing a jumper with her. All her clothing was in her suitcase in the baggage compartment. Her sensible blue jeans and green short-sleeved t-shirt now seemed like a poor travel wardrobe choice.

She shivered and looked to see Harry beginning to stir. She stifled a laugh as he reached around for his glasses that had fallen to the floor as he slept. He put them back on and stared back at her for a moment as he regained his bearings. Noticing her rubbing her arms, he took his jacket and sat down beside her on her bench. He draped the jacket over her shoulders and she gave him a grateful smile.

“Thanks,” she said, pulling the jacket around her.

“No problem,” he said with a grin, leaning back on the seat. “How long was I out for?”

“About an hour,” she said. “But don’t worry. You didn’t snore or drool.”

He let out a sigh of relief. “Wouldn’t want to have done that in front of you.”

“I’ve seen you look much worse,” she said, taking her hand and mussing up his already messy hair.

He laughed, but then pulled a concerned face. “You looked a little lost in thought there. Everything okay?”

She nodded. “Just thinking.”

“About?”

She turned to look at him properly.

”If you must know, I was thinking about why you were doing this,” she said simply.

“Doing what?” he asked quizzically. “Offering you my jacket? You were cold so---“

“Not that,” Hermione said quickly. “This. Coming with me to the wedding. This isn’t really a vacation. In fact, after you meet Rachel and her snotty friends, you might think it more of a nightmare really.”

Harry groaned. “Hermione, if this is going to be another long speech of how grateful you are to me, I swear I will apparate back home right now.”

Hermione put a hand on his shoulder. “No, it’s not that, Harry. I promised I wouldn’t thank you anymore and I’ll keep my word, but it’s just that I can’t help wondering why anyone in their right mind would do this. Come on, Harry. When most people go on vacation, they go and lie on a beach and drink drinks with wonky names with little umbrellas in them. They don’t go to their friend’s cousin’s wedding.”

Harry leaned back on the seat and tried to avoid her inquisitive gaze.

“Don’t get me wrong,” she continued. “I’m very thank-…grateful that you’re going there with me, but I guess I was just wondering why you’ve give up your first vacation in ages to go to my horrible cousin’s wedding. You’re going to be around people you don’t know pretending to be my boyfriend, of all things. I just can’t understand why you’d waste your time doing this.

He looked thoughtful for a moment and then seeing the serious expression etched on her face, he gave her a reassuring smile. “Let’s see…why would I want to do this? Hmmm…you’ve got me there, Hermione. Why? Well, maybe because I’m your friend.”

She didn’t look too convinced so Harry took her hands in his and looked earnestly into her brown eyes.

“Listen to me, Hermione. I’m where I want to be.”

She met his gaze and saw the sincere expression on his face and felt herself begin to melt. No one ever had the effect on her that he did.

He let out a nervous laugh and let go of her hand. “Besides, it’s not as if we won’t be on a beach, right? We’re going to Brighton!”

Hermione laughed, too. “Okay, okay. And this isn’t me thanking you, but I feel as if I should do something to show you how much this means to me, Harry. You’re coming here with me…it means more to me than you’d ever know. I feel like I’ll have someone in my corner.”

Harry pulled her close and wrapped his arms around her in a warm hug. “You’ll always have me in your corner. You don’t even have to ask.”

She pulled reluctantly away from him and beamed brightly back at him.

“But,” he said mischievously, “There is something you could do to pay me back for this, if you want. Well, two things actually.”

Hermione nodded. “Okay. What is it?”

He raised an eyebrow suggestively at her, which resulted in her hitting him hard on the arm. He pretended, of course, to be mortally wounded.

“OW!” Harry exclaimed dramatically. “That hurt!”

“Be serious,” she said, trying not to laugh.

“I am serious,” he said, rubbing his arm.

“Wait until I alert the media that The Boy Who Lived is nothing but a big old crybaby.”

“You wouldn’t!” Harry gasped.

“I would, wouldn’t I?”

“Okay, okay,” he said, shaking his head. “Well, do you want to know what I have in mind or not?”

“Shoot,” she said, looking at him.

“Okay,” he began, a serious expression coming over his face. “No matter what this Rachel person does, don’t let her get you down, Hermione. I haven’t met her, of course, but I can safely say that you’re worth more than a million Rachel Grangers. If she starts to get to you, just remember that I’m here for you and she can never take that away from you.”

Hermione couldn’t believe how great he was being. What he had just said to her meant more to her than she could even put into words. So, she did the first thing that popped into her mind. She leaned in and kissed him quickly on the cheek. Her fingers lingered on his face.

“Can you promise me that?” he asked her, putting his own hand over hers, which was still on his cheek.

“Yes,” she whispered. He certainly wasn’t making it easy on her to maintain that “just friends” mentality.

She dropped her hand a few seconds later and looked down at a loose strand of fabric on the bench seat. She looked up at him and said nervously, “Um, there were two things you mentioned. What was…what was the other one?”

“Okay,” he said with his eyes twinkling. “You have to promise me that at some point during this weekend you and I will be on a beach somewhere alone and having the time of our lives.”

The grin on his face was contagious and she couldn’t help grinning goofily back at him. “Okay. I can do that.”

**************************

They arrived in Brighton later that afternoon and after collecting their baggage, Harry hired a car and they were speeding down the road toward the beachfront estate of Malcolm and Catherine Granger. Malcolm owned one of the most prestigious estate agencies in the United Kingdom and had amassed quite a fortune over the years. His wife Catherine basically played the society wife and served on a number of boards and charity organizations. Like his brother, Malcolm Granger had only one child---their daughter Rachel---who was only a year younger than Hermione.

Unlike Hermione, Rachel never had to worry about dealing with bushy hair. Rachel had beautiful blonde hair that always looked healthy, shiny and in place. Rachel had never needed braces and her teeth were practically as bright as snow. In fact, Hermione had often wondered if in all her life Rachel had even had one spot on her face. Most teenagers had at least one in their lifetime, but not Rachel. It seemed as if Rachel was born to be perfect and everyone else just served to reinforce this theory. As she was the only child, she’d been spoiled rotten her entire life. Whatever Rachel wanted, she got. On those rare occasions when she didn’t get what she wanted, she did everything in her power to get it from the person who did. Invariably, this always ended up being Hermione. When they were kids, if Hermione wanted one scoop of ice cream, Rachel had to have two. If Hermione was presented with a doll, Rachel had to have the dolls and the matching dollhouse.

Being that Hermione was the only witch in her family, she and her parents had to be quite secretive about the true nature of Hermione’s education and her occupation. When she’d been accepted to Hogwarts, her parents told everyone in the family that Hermione would be attending boarding school in Scotland. If someone tried to find out more, they’d always change the subject. When Hermione graduated and took her job at the Ministry, her parents were forced to tell the family that she was a fact checker for a publishing company in London. Again, they kept the details to a minimum. Hermione had never minded it before, but she wanted her family to know that she was doing something that made a difference. They had no idea how hard she worked at the Ministry. They had no idea that she was one of the youngest witches to ever hold the position she had. It was quite an honor that no one but her friends and immediate family knew of.

It never bothered her much until Rachel kept bragging to Hermione about her own job as an estate agent for one of her father’s firms. Hermione wanted to point out that Rachel wouldn’t even have that job if her father didn’t own one of the most prestigious estate businesses in the country. But, Hermione had never pointed this out. For one thing, it would have been rude. And for another, Hermione didn’t want to sink to Rachel’s level. It was quite hard to keep a level head around Rachel, though.

Hermione could remember Harry telling her stories about his own cousin Dudley and she could recall all too well how she could relate. While her own aunt and uncle were not as bad as the Dursleys, they could be quite blind when it came to their daughter. In fact, Hermione now realized that the entire Granger family seemed to think the sun set and rose with Rachel. Hermione always felt as if she was some sort of afterthought whenever Rachel was around. She knew that this was stupid and she hated herself for feeling like this. She hadn’t seen Rachel in quite some time. Maybe, by some miracle, Rachel had changed. Perhaps she had grown up.

Harry turned the car into the drive and he couldn’t help staring in disbelief at the sheer size of the grand beach house estate. Hermione, however, couldn’t help feeling sick to her stomach as the realization hit her that they were finally here. She said a silent prayer that this wouldn’t be as horrible as she imagined.

As if sensing her nervousness, Harry patted her leg and gave her a reassuring smile. He’d parked the car and Hermione fought the urge to tell him to start the car again and drive them as far away from this house as possible.

“Ready?” he asked.

She let out a hollow laugh.

“Not really,” she said shakily.

“Where’s that old Gryffindor courage?” he teased.

Hermione shrugged. “I’m beginning to think the Sorting Hat made a mistake.”

She watched as Harry pulled the keys from the ignition and opened his car door. Within seconds, he was at her door, opening it and offering his hand to her.

”Come on,” he said, pulling her reluctantly from the car. For a moment they stood there looking at the house. Hermione could tell Harry was impressed as she was every single time she came here. It was a large estate with a spectacular ocean view. The house had seven bedrooms and five bathrooms. Hermione could remember when she was younger being afraid of playing inside the house for fear she’d get lost and wouldn’t be able to find her parents.

They walked slowly up the stairs to the front door and Harry chuckled as Hermione hung back. He took the initiative to knock on the door seeing as she wasn’t about to do it. She smoothed down her t-shirt and wished she’d fixed her hair before they’d left the train station.

“Hermione,” Harry said, taking her arm and pulling her toward him. “You look beautiful.”

Hermione looked up at him and blushed. “Already playing the part?”

He pulled a confused face. “What?”

“Already starting with the compliments,” she replied. “Already getting a head start on playing the supportive, loving boyfriend.”

Harry stared back at her and his smile faded a bit. “Yeah,” he said, nodding. “Yeah, I was just playing the part.”

Hermione was about to ask him what he meant by that, but the door opened at that moment and she turned to see a uniformed maid standing before them.

“Good afternoon,” the maid said with a welcoming smile. “You must be Miss Granger. If you’ll follow me, the family is in the backyard.”

Hermione nodded and walked into the house, followed quickly by Harry. The maid led them quickly through the house and Hermione stopped dead in her tracks when she felt Harry suddenly take her hand. She stared at him nonplussed.

“For the act,” he whispered with a wicked smile. “We want to make this convincing, right?”

Hermione nodded and they locked eyes and she felt herself nearly going weak in the knees. The moment was broken, however, when she heard someone saying, “But, Mummy, it is my wedding. If I want to do it that way, I don’t see why I can’t!”

Hermione rolled her eyes and led Harry onto the veranda. A group of people were standing around and as always their attention was focused on the beautiful blonde with full lips and flawless skin. Hermione spotted her own parents standing off to the side beside her aunt and uncle. Rachel was talking animatedly to her mother about some wedding issue and Hermione again felt stupid for dressing so casually. Rachel was wearing white trousers cut off below the knee and a sleeveless red top that displayed her smooth, rounded arms.

It was Rachel who first acknowledged Hermione’s arrival. She and Hermione looked at each other with tight, appraising smiles.

“You’re late, Hermione,” Rachel said icily. A forced smile was on her face, but her tone was hardly welcoming. Harry gave Hermione’s hand a squeeze and Hermione stopped herself from letting go with an angry retort.

”Hello, Rachel,” Hermione replied sweetly.

An uncomfortable silence followed and it was only broken when Karen and Robert Granger broke through the crowd to welcome their daughter.

“Sweetheart,” Karen said, giving her daughter a quick hug and kiss on the cheek. “I’m so glad you made it.”

Robert Granger shook Harry’s hand and they exchanged pleasantries. Hermione had told them earlier in the week that Harry would be coming along.

“Why don’t you introduce Harry?” Karen suggested.

Hermione nodded and led Harry toward her aunt and uncle. “Uncle Malcolm and Aunt Catherine this is my, um,--“

“Her boyfriend,” Harry said, stepping forward, shaking Malcolm Granger’s hand. “It’s nice to meet you, sir. And you, too, Mrs. Granger.”

“Very nice of you to come, Harry,” Catherine said. “We were so pleased to hear that Hermione was bringing you along.”

Harry nodded.

“I’m Rachel,” the blonde girl said, coming up to them and smiling winsomely at Harry. “Hermione didn’t tell us you were so handsome.”

Harry felt his cheeks redden.

Hermione couldn’t believe Rachel’s gall. Here she was on the weekend of her own wedding and she was blatantly flirting with her cousin’s “boyfriend”. Of course, Harry wasn’t really her boyfriend, but still. Of course, Hermione shouldn’t have expected anything less than this to happen. Rachel was never going to change.

“You’re so lucky, Hermione,” Rachel said, giving Harry an appraising glance.

“I’m the lucky one,” Harry said, pulling Hermione close. “I still can’t believe how lucky I was to get such a great girl as Hermione. But, you know how great she is, don’t you, Rachel?”

Rachel’s smile faltered a bit, but she nodded. “Of course.”

After a few minutes of small talk, Rachel offered to show Harry and Hermione to their bedroom.

“Excuse me?” Hermione choked out. “Did you just say our bedroom?”

“Yes,” Rachel said. “You and Harry did want to stay together, didn’t you?”

Hermione exchanged a worried glance with Harry. Well, it was a worried glance on her part. She couldn’t tell, but she thought the look on Harry’s face was one of amusement.

“Oh, come now, Hermione,” Rachel said dismissively. “You’re not so old-fashioned that you want to stay in separate bedrooms are you? Mummy told me that you and Harry were living together. No one is going to mind if you share a bedroom.”

“Yeah, sweetheart,” Harry said, putting an arm around Hermione. “No one will mind if we share a bedroom. You’ll have to forgive her, Rachel. She’s probably afraid she won’t be able to keep her hands off of me if we’re all alone in a room together. Isn’t that right, sweetie?”

Hermione felt flustered as Harry planted a kiss on her forehead. Pretending to be a couple in public was one thing, but she and Harry were to share a room? With one bed? She tried to tell herself that she and Harry had, in fact, shared a bed a few weeks ago, and nothing had come of it, except for a very awkward couple of moments. But, other than that…this was going to test the boundaries of their friendship. At least it would on her part. She couldn’t speak for Harry, but something about this made her quite nervous.

“I’ll just go get our suitcases from the car,” Harry was saying. “I’ll catch up to you in a bit.”

Hermione nodded and watched as Harry walked back toward the house.

Hermione was left alone with Rachel who was staring at her in such a way that she felt quite uncomfortable. It was as if Rachel was trying to figure something out. Hermione hoped Rachel couldn’t see that this was all a ruse. That was all Hermione needed was to suffer such an embarrassment as Rachel finding out that Harry wasn’t her boyfriend, just her best friend who was doing her a favour.

“What?” Hermione asked finally.

“Nothing,” Rachel said with a grin. “I just never imagined you, of all people, with someone so—“

“Someone so, what?”

“Someone so attractive, actually,” Rachel finished. “Don’t get me wrong, Hermione. I don’t want you to take this the wrong way, but I always pictured you with some nerdy, bookish type. You know, someone like you.”

Hermione felt anger rising in her. Out of respect for her parents and her aunt and uncle, she was trying to keep her temper and emotions in check. Rachel, however, wasn’t making this any easy on her.

“I must offer you congratulations, though. That Harry is one handsome man.”

“You’re getting married on Saturday, Rachel,” Hermione reminded her.

Rachel giggled. “I know. I know. But, I’m not blind. I can still admire another man, can’t I?”

“Speaking of your groom,” Hermione said quickly, hoping to steer the conversation away from Harry. “Where is he?”

“He’ll be in later this evening,” Rachel related, ushering Hermione back toward the house. Hermione reluctantly followed.

They walked up the stairs in silence.

“You’re not mad are you?” Rachel said, opening up a door and allowing Hermione to walk inside. “I didn’t want you to take what I said the wrong way, earlier. You just aren’t usually the type to attract men like that.”

Hermione glared at Rachel and couldn’t help retorting angrily. “And what’s that supposed to mean?”

Rachel sat down on the four-poster bed and sighed. “Hermione, let’s face it. You’re no beauty by any stretch of the imagination. You’re kind of plain, to be honest. You’re the kind of girl that blokes want to marry not the type that they want to have a bit of fun with.”

Hermione clenched her fists and turned away from her cousin.

“Not that there’s anything wrong with that,” Rachel said quickly. “It’s really great that you have someone like Harry. I’m just surprised.”

Hermione turned to answer her, but didn’t get the chance. At that moment, Harry came bustling in with their suitcases and dropped them on the floor. He turned to Hermione and with one quick deft movement pulled her to him and before she could even blink, he’d kissed her. At first, she’d been so shocked by his action, but as he wrapped his arms around her, she felt herself deepening the kiss. The anger she felt toward her cousin ebbed away and she forgot that there was anyone else in the room. And for a moment, she forgot that this was all just an act.

Author’s note: I know, I know…I promised this would be up much sooner. I am an evil cliffhanger writer, aren’t I? I am sorry for making you guys wait. Hopefully this chapter will make up for it. Please let me know what you think…good, bad, or indifferent. A special thanks to my pal Heaven for catching a big error on this one for me…she knows what I’m talking about.

Chapter 10

The Great Pretenders

Over the years, Harry Potter had wondered what kissing Hermione Granger would be like. It was only natural he told himself to think about this because she was his best female friend and they’d both had to endure countless inquiries about the true nature of their relationship. In fact, he and Ron had once discussed during sixth year what kissing Hermione might feel like. They’d both concurred that kissing Hermione would probably be tantamount to kissing a sister.

Now, years later, as he was engaged in a snog with one Miss Hermione Jane Granger, Harry could safely and confidently say that kissing her was not stirring “brotherly” feelings in him. In fact, he was at the moment too busy tasting her sweet lips and feeling intoxicated by the smell of her hair.

Truth be told, he hadn’t planned on kissing her like this…in front of an audience. It was just a few short minutes ago that he’d lugged their suitcases upstairs and he’d overheard Rachel’s biting remarks to Hermione.

“Hermione, let’s face it. You’re no beauty by any stretch of the imagination. You’re kind of plain, to be honest. You’re the kind of girl that blokes want to marry not the type that they want to have a bit of fun with.”

“Not that there’s anything wrong with that,” Rachel said quickly. “It’s really great that you have someone like Harry. I’m just surprised.”

Those words had infuriated him. If anything, Harry thought to himself, any guy would be lucky to have Hermione fancy him. To Harry, Hermione was the type of girl that he could see himself wanting to marry and the type of girl he could see himself having a bit of fun with. She was all those things and more. And if that Rachel person couldn’t recognize that, well, Harry thought it was time someone showed her what was what and took her down a peg or two. If Rachel were a bloke, he’d have walked in the bedroom and punched her lights out. But, being as she was a girl and he was a guest in her home, he decided not to go that route. Instead, he’d walked into the room, dropped the bags on the floor, grabbed Hermione by the hand and snogged her with everything he had.

He knew he’d taken her by surprise, if her initial reaction was any indication. She’d stiffened a bit, but then, to his delight, she’d quickly gotten into it. He didn’t know if it was because she didn’t want to drop the ruse in front of Rachel and was just going with it or if she truly was into the kiss itself. Right now, he didn’t care.

Harry quickly forgot that they were “performing” for an audience. Everything in that bedroom faded away as he concentrated on the task at hand, or in his hands, as it were. He couldn’t say how long, they stood like that, wrapped in each other’s arms, continuing to kiss and touch and feel. He vaguely registered the fact that their audience of one, obviously feeling uncomfortable at witnessing this display of affection, was at the moment, tiptoeing out of the room.

“Hermione,” he heard himself murmur as he brought his lips down to her neck.

Unfortunately, saying her name seemed to jolt her back into reality and she whispered, “W-where did Rachel go?”

“I don’t know,” he said as he held on to her, still feeling a little dazed.

They stared at each other for quite some time, neither seeming sure of what to say or do next.

“W-why did you do that?” she asked suddenly, awkwardly stepping out of his embrace.

“Do what?” he asked with a shy smile.

“Kiss me,” she answered. “Just now…why did you do that?”

“Because your cousin was saying some horrible things to you,” Harry replied simply.

She registered what he said, but he could tell she was wondering if that was all there was to it. With a slight smile, he walked over to where he’d dropped the suitcases and picked them up and carried them over to the bed.

He looked over at Hermione who was still standing stock still, looking lost in thought.

“Something wrong?” he asked as he opened his suitcase.

“Why did you…I mean, why did you continue even after she’d left the room?” she asked shyly.

“Why did you?” he countered.

“I-I--,” she stammered.

“Yes?” he asked.

“I asked you first,” she answered. She walked over to where he stood by the bed and folded her arms.

“Yes, you did,” he admitted with a laugh.

“Well?” she asked, sitting on the edge of the bed, her eyes trained on his.

“In case she came back,” Harry lied. “You know, I was supposed to be kissing you like a boyfriend would, right? I wouldn’t just stop when she walked out of the room, would I? She probably thinks we’re in here shagging right now.”

Hermione looked horrified. “Oh, Harry. You’re probably right. She’s probably downstairs right now telling my aunt and uncle, not to mention my parents, that you and I are upstairs doing naughty things to each other.”

Harry laughed.

“This isn’t funny!” she exclaimed. “You think I’m lying, but that’s exactly something Rachel would do.”

Harry stifled a chuckle as he came around the bed and knelt down in front of Hermione.

“They must not be that old-fashioned since they are allowing us to share a room,” Harry pointed out. She shrugged.

“Tell you what?” he asked, an idea coming to him suddenly. “Why don’t we jump up and down on the bed and make moaning and panting sounds. They’ll be scandalized!”

“Harry!” Hermione exclaimed, managing a smile.

“What?” he asked. “Oh, you wanted to really have sex? I think I could accommodate you, Miss Granger. Granted, it is short notice and all, but I think I could--”

He didn’t get the chance to finish his statement as Hermione hit him hard on the chest, causing him to fall back. If she hadn’t been laughing before, she was now at the sight of The Boy Who Lived sprawled on the floor.

“You think it’s funny, do you?” he asked, grabbing her arm and pulling her on top of him. He started to tickle her and they both rolled over on the floor, changing positions. Now, it was Harry who was on top of Hermione and she was laughing uncontrollably.

As he looked down at her smiling face, he knew without a shadow of a doubt that he loved her. He stopped laughing as he stared down at her. He brought a hand to her face and brushed away a strand of hair from her forehead. His hand lingered on her face and he was about to bring his lips to hers again when a knock on the door stopped him.

“Sorry,” he said, rolling off of her and getting quickly to his feet. He offered his hand to Hermione to help her up and she hesitated a moment before taking it. She smoothed her hair and clothes down and walked over to the door.

“Mum?” she asked when she opened the door. “What can we do for you?”

“Tell me the truth,” Karen Granger said, coming into the bedroom.

“Okay,” Hermione said, closing the door. “If I can…what is it you want to know?”

“I thought Harry was just accompanying you to the wedding,” Karen said. “Rachel just came downstairs and told us you were…well, that you were…”

Hermione shot an “I-told-you so” look at Harry.

“We weren’t,” Hermione finished for her mother. “We weren’t doing anything.”

“You never told me that you and Harry were dating,” Karen said quietly. “Is this why you and Brian broke up? Is this why you moved in with Harry?”

Lying to Rachel was one thing, but lying to her mother was quite another and Hermione didn’t know how she was going to do this. If she told her mother this was all a ruse, Karen would tell her to go downstairs and clear it up and lecture her about not lying to her family.

“I wasn’t the reason she broke things off with Brian,” Harry said quickly, coming to Hermione’s aid. “But we, um, sort of realized how we felt about each other when she moved in with me, Dr. Granger. It all sort of went forward from there. That’s all.”

For an awful moment, Hermione thought her mother was going to call them on their lie. Lying, rather big or small, had never been Hermione’s strong suit.

“That’s all,” Karen repeated. “That’s all, he says. Harry! This is fantastic!”

Before Hermione could stop her, Karen enveloped a surprised Harry in a hug.

“Robert and I have always known that it would one day be the two of you,” Karen said happily, letting go of Harry. “To tell you the truth, Harry, I never liked that Brian chap one bit.”

Hermione looked mortified at her mother. “Mum!”

Harry beamed back at Karen. This would be so much easier since he already had at least one of Hermione’s parents in his corner.

“Well, I didn’t,” Karen said. “Oh, Hermione! I’m so happy for you!”

Karen held out a hand to Hermione who reluctantly took it only to be drawn into a sort of group hug with her mother and best friend. Hermione wondered at that moment if it was possible to die from embarrassment.

“I’ll leave you two kids to get settled,” Karen said a moment later. “I cannot wait to go and tell your father this news. Who knows…maybe in a few months, we’ll all be gathering for another ceremony.”

She winked at Harry and Hermione before leaving the room.

“Honestly, what is my mother like!” Hermione said, collapsing down on the bed. “There’s a reason why I try never to lie, because things like this happen. It’s like a snowball rolling down a mountain. It’s going to be this massive avalanche before the weekend is over.”

“Take it easy, Hermione,” Harry said, coming back toward the bed. He patted her on the knee. “It’s going to be okay.”

“I wish I had your confidence,” Hermione said glumly. “I’ve never been so embarrassed in my life. And we just got here, Harry. We have at least two more days of this misery.”

“Hermione Jane Granger,” Harry said sternly. He went over to the bed and grabbed her hand pulling her to her feet. “Come with me.”

She reluctantly allowed him to drag her out onto the balcony.

“Look at that view,” he said, motioning toward the ocean.

“It’s beautiful,” Hermione admitted, taking in the fresh sea air.

“Everything is going to be fine,” he said soothingly to her. “Don’t even think of this as being on a family obligation. Think of it as being on holiday with your best mate. I’m not going to let you mope or get down in the dumps.”

“Okay,” she said with a smile. “I honestly don’t know what I would do without you. You’ve saved me twice today.”

“Don’t I know it,” he said teasingly, walking back into the bedroom.

She followed a few minutes later and began unpacking her own suitcase.

”So that’s Rachel,” Harry finally said breaking the silence.

“Yeah,” Hermione said, raising an eyebrow. She braced herself for the usual string of compliments that people used with Rachel. She could take it from others, but she didn’t think she’d be able to stand here while Harry told her she wasn’t that bad or that she was drop-dead gorgeous.

“You didn’t do her justice,” Harry said.

Hermione felt her heart sink.

“I didn’t?” she asked weakly.

“No,” Harry said. “She’s a lot worse than you said.”

Hermione looked up from her suitcase in surprise.

“But I think I’ve got her figured out,” Harry said. “An old Auror trick of the trade, if you will. I’ve learned to size up people really quickly and I think I could give you Rachel’s modus operandi in less than 200 words.”

“Really?” Hermione asked, with an impressed grin. “Let’s hear it then.”

“Okay,” Harry said simply. “I think Rachel’s jealous of you.”

“You’ve got to be kidding me! Why would she be jealous of me?’

He scratched his head and pretended to be deep in thought. “Let’s see. You’re taller than she is. You’re way smarter than her. You have the biggest heart of anyone I’ve ever met. You’re charming, you have a wonderful sense of humor and…” his voice trailed off and he crooked his finger at her, beckoning her to lean in closer to hear his final point.

She giggled as she leaned forward and he whispered in her ear, “And you have a gorgeous hunk of a boyfriend like me. Who wouldn’t be jealous?”

Hermione threw a t-shirt at him. “You’re such a goofball.”

“Yes and this weekend, I’m your goofball,” he said, winking at her.

**********************

For the first time she could remember, Hermione was actually enjoying herself at her aunt and uncle’s beachfront home. This could all be attributed to her charming best friend, who’d not left her side all evening. Tonight, the family was having a dinner for Rachel and her fiancé, Theodore Langer. Theodore was a barrister and as Rachel had pointed out a number of times he was the youngest partner is his firm’s history.

Hermione had nearly lost it when after she and Harry had been introduced to Theodore, or Theo, as he liked to be called. After they’d exchanged pleasantries with him, Harry had led Hermione away and asked if Rachel planned on keeping her last name when she married.

“No,” Hermione had replied. “I reckon she’ll take his. Rachel’s not exactly a feminist.”

“Do you realize what her name is going to be after she marries?” he asked, laughing.

“Rachel Granger Langer,” Hermione said simply. As she said the name “Langer” she burst into giggles and a few of the partygoers shot her annoyed looks. But, Hermione didn’t care.

She and Harry were both standing off to the side of the sitting room, nursing their drinks.

“Have I told you tonight how beautiful you look?” he asked.

“There’s not an audience, Harry,” she chided him. “You don’t have to perform in front of me.”

He looked hurt by her words. “I wasn’t performing, Hermione. I meant it. You look beautiful tonight.”

Hermione nervously touched her dress. It was a little black matte jersey dress with an open back and flutter sleeves that she’d purchased on a dare during a shopping trip with Ginny. She could still remember standing in the changing room in that dress and telling Ginny that she shouldn’t purchase it because it wasn’t practical. Ginny had told her to stop being so practical and buy it just because…just because she might need it someday. It wasn’t her usual style, but it complimented her figure quite nicely. She’d even managed to tame her usually unruly hair by applying liberal amounts of Sleek-Easy hair potion. She’d styled it straight and curled the ends so it framed her face.

“Thank you,” she said softly.

“She can accept a compliment,” Harry teased.

She nudged him playfully. “You look rather nice yourself.”

“Thanks,” he said. Harry wasn’t as dressed up as many of the other people in the room, but to Hermione he looked the most handsome. He wore a simple white button-down dress shirt and a pair of black trousers.

She was about to say something else to Harry when she spotted Rachel coming toward them. As usual Rachel looked immaculate. She was wearing a pleated mini halter top mini dress. No doubt it was made by some big-name designer, Hermione mused as Rachel walked slowly over to them.

“You two are being anti-social,” Rachel said teasingly. Hermione noticed her attention was focused solely on Harry.

“No, we’re not,” Hermione said defensively.

“You’ve not mingled with any of the other guests,” Rachel said pointedly to Hermione. “She’s always been like this, Harry. When we were little and my parents would have parties, she’d always be off in the library reading instead of enjoying the party. You know what they say, all work and no play makes…”

“Rachel-“ Hermione began.

“I assure you, Rachel,” Harry interjected. “That Hermione gets enough ‘play’ time.” To accentuate his point, Harry wrapped an arm lazily around Hermione and pulled her close.

Rachel gave a weak laugh. “I guess people change.”

“Yeah and sometimes they stay the same,” Hermione couldn’t stop herself from saying.

Rachel’s fixed smile stayed plastered on her face, but Hermione noticed it faltered a bit.

“So, what is it you do, Harry?” Rachel asked. “Hermione didn’t tell me much about you.”

Harry scratched the nape of his neck. “Don’t blame Hermione for that. It’s my fault. She didn’t tell you much about me because I asked her not to.”

Rachel stepped closer, obviously intrigued. “Really? So, what is it you do?”

Hermione resisted the urge to roll her eyes. “He just told you he couldn’t tell you, didn’t he?”

“Well, yes, but someday, we all might be family,” Rachel said through clenched teeth. She turned her attention back to Harry. “So are you a spy or something? I know! You’re a bit like James Bond, aren’t you?”

Harry laughed. “Not quite.”

“Well, you certainly are handsome enough to be like James Bond,” Rachel said flirtatiously.

Hermione couldn’t believe the nerve of Rachel. Here she was at her own pre-wedding party and she was openly flirting with another man when her fiancé was in the same room.

“Shouldn’t you be getting back to Theo?” Hermione asked.

Rachel ignored her cousin. “We were all going to go out on the boat tomorrow. Would you like to go with us? We have room for one more,” she said, smiling at Harry.

“You don’t have room for two more?” Harry countered back.

“Oh, you thought I’d ask Hermione?” Rachel said with a peal of laughter. “Heavens no! I still remember how she got so seasick on Daddy’s boat. Hermione, do you remember that? You turned four shades of green that day.”

Harry forced a smile. “I’m actually not much for boats myself. And I really wanted to spend some alone time with Hermione. So, if it’s all the same to you, Rachel, I think she and I will just spend the day together.

Rachel nodded, but disappointment shone all over her face.

“Right,” she said, looking over her shoulder. “Well, I best be getting back to Theo. He’s probably missing me right about now.”

With that, she flipped her hair over her shoulder and sauntered away from them.

Hermione glanced at her best friend. This was the third time today he’d come through for her. Not knowing what else to do, she stood on her tiptoes and pecked him quickly on the cheek.

“What was that for?” he asked, surprised.

“For being you,” she said with a mischievous smile.

The guests were leaving the sitting room and entering the dining room and Harry offered his arm to Hermione.

“Ready?” he asked.

“Ready,” she said happily linking her arm through his.

******************

At around midnight, the party died down and Harry and Hermione excused themselves. Hermione was changing into her pyjamas in the bathroom and reflecting on what a perfect evening it had been.

If it was even possible, she was more enamored of Harry than she was before. She brushed her fingers again over her lips as she remembered his impromptu kiss form earlier that afternoon. It had been for show, but it had seemed so…real.

She quickly brushed her teeth and washed her face. She opened the bathroom door to find Harry sitting up in the bed, reading.

“What are you doing?” she asked.

He gave her a funny look. “Swimming?”

“You know what I mean!” she retorted. “What are you doing in the bed?”

“Hermione, did you drink too much champagne tonight? This is a book,” he said, holding it up for her to see. “What I’m doing right now is reading it.”

“Ha, ha, ha,” Hermione said, setting her dress on a chair. “We’re not going to sleep in the same bed.”

“Why not?” he asked innocently. “It’s not like we haven’t done it before.”

“Harry,” Hermione said.

“Are you afraid that you won’t be able to control yourself with me?” he asked her cheekily.

“Harry-“

“Hermione, seriously, there’s no other place to sleep in this room other than that chair,” he pointed out to her. “I don’t fancy sleeping on the floor. Could you please let me sleep with you?”

“What?”

“Paranoid, aren’t we?” he asked with a laugh. “Could you please let me sleep with you…in the same bed…without any funny stuff going on, I promise.”

“Oh alright,” she said, privately pleased at the idea.

“I knew you couldn’t say no,” he said triumphantly.

Hermione pulled back the duvet cover and slid inside the bed.

“You don’t want to cuddle first?” he asked, as he closed his book and put it on the nightstand.

“No,” Hermione said, stifling a laugh.

“Spoon?” he asked, turning off the lamp.

“No,” Hermione answered, putting her face into the pillow so he wouldn’t hear her giggling.

“Okay, you’ve had your chance,” he said with a yawn. “I won’t offer again.”

“I know,” she said.

“Don’t wake me up in the middle of the night telling me you’ve changed your mind,” he said.

“Okay.”

“Good night, Hermione.”

“Good night, Harry.”

Author’s note: Okay, word of warning before you begin. You all know about my fondness for cliffhangers…well, one will definitely appear in this one. Just wanted to warn you ahead of time! Please let me know what you think. I will try and have next chapter up soon!

Chapter 11

Carried Away

Harry awoke the next morning feeling quite content. His eyes quickly focused on the brunette lying peacefully beside him. Despite her assurance that she wouldn’t spoon with him, here they were doing that very thing. Harry smiled. He could definitely get used to waking up beside her. Although he knew he was taking a big risk by doing what he was about to do, he couldn’t resist. The smell of her hair was nearly intoxicating and he couldn’t stop himself from reaching out with his hand to caress her bare arm. Her skin was so soft.

Although he would have loved to stay in bed cuddled beside this woman, he knew that if he didn’t get up soon, he’d get himself into trouble. Reluctantly, he pulled back the duvet, and slowly arose. He stretched and chanced one last look at Hermione before grabbing a change of clothes and heading for the bathroom.

*****************

Nearly an hour later, Hermione awoke feeling a little unsure of where she was.

The room she was in was not her own and the bed was certainly not hers. Disoriented, she sat up in the bed and looked around the eerily quiet room. Her eyes fell on the suitcases beside the closet and she immediately remembered where she was and who she was here with. Absently, she reached out her hand to wake Harry, but all she grabbed was empty space.

“Harry?” she called out. There was no answer.

He wouldn’t have gone downstairs without me, would he?

The clock on the nightstand told her it was 9 a.m. Every one would probably be downstairs enjoying breakfast. Hermione hadn’t meant to sleep so late. Perhaps the long train ride had exhausted her more than she’d originally thought. She slowly got out of bed and walked over to the bathroom door. Knocking lightly on the door, she called out her friend’s name. Again, she heard no response.

More than likely he was downstairs.

What if Rachel is down there right now interrogating him? Or worse…what if she’s flirting with him?

Hermione resisted the overwhelming desire to go downstairs right now and save Harry from the wrath of Rachel, but one glimpse at herself in the mirror and she decided that wouldn’t be the best idea. She had a severe case of bed head and going downstairs looking like this would only give Rachel too much ammunition.

After a quick shower, Hermione quickly dressed and made herself presentable. As she descended the staircase, she heard the muffled sounds of voices and laughter coming from the dining room. Hermione said a silent prayer that this wouldn’t all blow up in her face.

Everyone was sitting down at the table enjoying their breakfast. Aunt Catherine and Uncle Malcolm were animatedly discussing something with Rachel and Theo. Hermione’s own parents were carrying on with Harry like they were old friends. It was Rachel who spotted Hermione first.

”Look who’s finally decided to join us,” Rachel said with a grin. “We’d nearly given up on you, Hermione! You’re getting to be quite a lazybones, aren’t you?”

Everyone laughed, save for Harry. Hermione could have kissed him for it. He gave her a reassuring smile as he got up to welcome her. Hermione felt herself go weak in the knees as she saw him. His hair was still a little damp from his shower and was mussed up as ever and he wore a pair of long tan swimming trunks and a white v-neck t-shirt. He was obviously dressed for the beach and Hermione was glad she’d worn her own swimming costume underneath her denim shorts and green tank top.

“Good morning, sweetheart,” he said, winking at her as he pecked her on the cheek.

“Morning,” Hermione whispered. “Why didn’t you wake me up?”

“Because you looked all nice and snug in bed,” he answered. He gave her a conspiratorial look. “And because you and I are going to have fun today and I wanted to make sure you had enough energy that she wouldn’t pass out on me.”

His smile was infectious and Hermione couldn’t help beaming back at him.

“Harry was just telling us how you were going to spend the day on the beach,” Karen said to her daughter.

Hermione nodded as she sat down beside Harry.

“I think that sounds lovely,” Karen said. “Much more fun than going out on Malcolm’s boat.”

Malcolm guffawed. “I heard that Karen!”

“It’s really too bad that you aren’t joining us, Harry,” Rachel said smiling at him. An oblivious Theo continued to eat his breakfast in silence. The man’s a barrister, for Merlin’s sake! Hermione couldn’t help thinking to herself. Surely, he can recognize when his fiancée is flirting with another man. Maybe he doesn’t care, Hermione mused.

“Well, don’t feel too bad for me, Rachel,” Harry said looking at Hermione. “I am going to be spending the day with the love of my life. I don’t think it’s going to be that much of a hardship for me.”

Rachel’s smile faltered a bit. “You certainly do work fast, don’t you, Hermione? The last I heard you were living with some bloke and the next think you know you’ve moved on to Harry here. You know what they say about rebound relationships, they never work out.”

The table grew silent at Rachel’s words.

“I would hardly consider our relationship a rebound one,” Hermione said simply, trying to keep her emotions in check. “We’ve known each other since we were 11 years old, Rachel.”

“That’s right,” Harry agreed. “And we’ve felt this way for quite some time. We were just too stupid to admit it to ourselves. Right, love?”

Hermione nodded.

Hermione found herself lost in her own thoughts as everyone started talking again. She wished that in someway what Harry had said was real. That he really meant it. She certainly did.

“Eat up,” Hermione heard Harry say in her ear. “You’ll need your strength.”

Hermione laughed as she helped herself to some toast and marmalade. “You’re scaring me, Harry. Please tell me your plans don’t include a hike because I don’t know if you’re aware of this, but I’m not exactly the athletic, outdoorsy type.”

“You are athletic,” Harry argued. “Hermione, you go jogging all the time!”

Hermione shrugged. “Not the same thing.”

“Well, I’m not going to take you on a nature hike if that’s what you’re worried about,” he said mysteriously. “But we are going to have a great time on the beach. Your aunt is having the kitchen staff prepare us a picnic.”

Hermione could feel her mother’s eyes on her. She could practically hear her mother planning out the wedding.

“Make sure you wear sunscreen,” Karen lectured.

“Yes, ma’am,” Hermione said exchanging a glance with Harry. “And we also promise not to go swimming until 30 minutes after we eat.”

“Oh, hush!” Karen said laughing. “I just want you to be careful, Hermione.”

“Don’t worry about Hermione, Dr. Granger,” Harry said with his eyes twinkling. “I’ll look after her. I wouldn’t let anything happen to her.”

Karen and Robert grinned back at them, pleased for their daughter.

“Come on,” Rachel said, getting out of her chair. “I’m ready to go. Are we sure we can’t tempt you, Harry?”

“I’m where I want to be, thanks,” he said, not even looking in Rachel’s direction.

Hermione felt her cheeks redden at his words. She knew he was just teasing, but it hurt to hear him say these things and know that he didn’t really mean them. That is was all an act.

*************

“I still can’t believe you didn’t wake me up,” Hermione said grumpily as she and Harry made their way toward the beach.

“I told you…you needed rest,” Harry said. “Besides, build a bridge and get over it, Hermione. “

“Okay,” she said, managing a smile. “Did you sleep well?”

“As a matter of fact I did,” he said. “Even with you talking in your sleep all night.”

“What are you talking about?” she asked, stopping in her tracks.

“It’s more like what you were talking about,” Harry said, still walking ahead of her.

“I never talk in my sleep,” Hermione retorted.

“How would you know?” Harry asked, turning around and smiling at her.

“I just do,” Hermione said, frowning at him.

“Don’t you want to know what you said?” Harry asked conversationally.

“No, because I know I didn’t,” Hermione said.

“Have it your own way then,” Harry said, walking again. Hermione quickened her pace to catch up to him.

”What did I say?” she asked, trying to sound nonchalant.

“I don’t know if I should tell you—“

“Go on,” Hermione said impatiently.

“Say please.”

Hermione stamped her foot. “Harry James Potter, if you don’t tell me right now—“

“Okay,” Harry said, turning to face her. He batted his eyelashes at her and assumed a high falsetto voice. “Harry! Oh, Harry! We shouldn’t! Ow!”

Hermione hit him upside the head with her beach towel.

“You are such an immature wanker,” Hermione said laughing.

“And you love me for it,” Harry said smugly.

“I love you despite of it,” Hermione corrected.

The beach wasn’t that crowded yet and Hermione had to say the feel of the sand on her toes and the smell of the ocean combined with the cloudless sky, made her feel quite alive.

“Do you know something?” she asked him as they set their belongings down. “You and I have never gone swimming together. I mean, you and Ron and the other Weasleys used to go swimming in the lake behind the Burrow, but I never went.”

She didn’t tell him that she’d been embarrassed of him or Ron seeing her in a swimsuit.

Harry pulled off his t-shirt and looked thoughtfully at Hermione. “There was that time during the Second Task of the Triwizard Tournament, but that certainly wasn’t for pleasure.”

Hermione shuddered as she remembered that.

“You haff a water beetle in your hair, Herm-own-ninny,” Harry said, doing a pitch perfect imitation of Viktor Krum. “

“Sod off, Harry,” Hermione said, trying hard not to look at him. His work as an auror had certainly helped develop his body in a good way, she thought.

Harry, for his part, was enjoying the friendly banter with Hermione. Things were going quite well, he thought. He took his watch off and placed it inside his knapsack and looked up just in time to see Hermione taking off her denim shorts and folding them carefully. He wondered if she knew what she was doing to him by moving so slow.

Hermione hesitated a moment before taking off her tank top. She was still self-conscious about her body. Namely, she was self-conscious about showing so much of her body to Harry. The women he’d gone out with in the past had given new meaning to the words “drop-dead gorgeous”. She realized, however, that she couldn’t stay on the beach all day covered up so with trepidation she slowly began to undress. She avoided looking at Harry as she did so.

Harry felt his jaw involuntarily drop as Hermione finally discarded her tank top on the towel. It was a simple blue bikini that fit her perfectly. The suit combined with the way her hair was blowing in the breeze made for such an effect that Harry felt the need to get in the water…quick.

Hermione beat him to the punch as she hit him playfully on the arm. “Last one in is a rotten egg!” she called out childishly as she ran past him. He watched with an amused smile as she sprinted across the sand and splashed into the waves.

“Come on in, Harry!” she called out to him.

He ran toward her and dived into the ocean water and nearly screamed as the cool water made contact with his skin.

“You knew it was cold!” he exclaimed when he surfaced a moment later.

Hermione nodded in triumph as Harry looked menacingly at her. “Hey! I just told you to come on in. I didn’t mention anything about the temperature of the water.”

“Yes, but you didn’t warn me,” he said. “And here I thought I was your best friend.”

”You are,” Hermione said, starting to back away slowly from him as he slowly made his way toward her. “You’re my very best friend in the whole wide world, Harry.”

Before she could stop him, he’d picked her up screaming as he carried her further into the ocean.

“Harry, put me down!” she said, trying not to laugh.

“What was that?” he asked. “Put you down? Alright, then…”

He let go of her and Hermione fell into the cold water. The rest of their swim was a back and forth water fight.

Harry couldn’t remember the last time he’d had such a fun day. After their swim, they walked along the beach holding hands. Something was definitely happening between them and he knew that Hermione had to be feeling it too. She hadn’t pulled away when he’d reached for her hand. It wasn’t much, Harry thought, but it was a start.

Later in the afternoon, they enjoyed their lunch on the beach, talking about everything and nothing all at once. They talked about childhood holidays…mostly Hermione’s. Harry didn’t get to go on too many with the Dursleys. They talked about mutual friends and about their jobs and about movies and music. Harry remembered at one point wondering if there’d ever be a day when he had nothing to talk about with her. That was the great thing about Hermione. There was always something to talk to her about; something to share with her.

Toward the end of the day, Harry went for one last swim, while Hermione decided to take a small catnap on the shore. It wasn’t hard for her to fall asleep with the combination of the sunshine and the lulling sounds of the waves hitting the shore.

She awoke sometime later to see Harry looking down at her with a foreign expression on his face. What it was, she didn’t know, but she liked the way he was looking at her. More importantly, she liked the way how he was looking at her made her feel.

On the walk back to the house, they were both quiet, reflecting silently on the day they had together. Hermione allowed Harry to walk a little ahead of her so she could watch his tanned calves and battered sneakers march ahead of her. Hermione felt drugged with sunshine and her skin prickled pleasantly from salt, sea and sand.

“Well, Miss Granger?” Harry asked, holding the door open for her. “Did you have a good day?”

Hermione breezed past him. “No,” she said simply.

Harry froze. “You didn’t?”

She turned around and beamed at him. “I had a great day, Harry.”

***************************

Upstairs, Hermione rested while Harry took a shower. When he finished, she took her turn in the shower. When Hermione got out of the shower, she was not surprised to see Harry had left the room. He’d obviously wanted her to have privacy while she dressed for that evening’s party.

Tonight was the last big event before the wedding tomorrow. It was basically a get-together for the wedding party and their friends, family and guests. Hermione chose a simple red knee-length sundress. She was slightly sunburned, but she’d performed some quick spells to even it out. She quickly applied some makeup and styled her hair. She opted to wear it up and pulled it back in a makeshift chignon. Curled tendrils framed her face.

There was a knock on the bedroom door and it startled Hermione.

“Are you decent?” Harry asked from the other side of the door.

“Come on in,” Hermione called from her position in front of the mirror. She was just applying her lipstick when she heard the door open and Harry came inside.

“I just need to get the present I bought for Rachel and we can go downstairs,” she said. Suddenly, she became aware of his eyes on her and she looked up surprised. The same look he’d worn on his face earlier on the beach was staring at her now.

“What?” she asked.

“Wow,” he finally whispered.

Hermione blushed. “Wow, to you too!”

He looked quite handsome in his green button-down shirt and khaki trousers. He’d not tucked the shirt in and Hermione thought he looked for want of a better word…cool. Now, I sound like all those young girls who send him fan mail, she said chastising herself.

“That green really brings out your eyes,” she said as she stared at him. He looked back at her with a bemused expression and Hermione suddenly felt the need to get out of this room.

“Let’s go,” she said quickly, picking up her wrapped present for Rachel and Theo.

****************

By the time they finally made it downstairs, the party seemed to be in full swing. Hermione looked at Harry. “I just need to find Rachel and give her the gift and then we can join the party.”

Harry nodded and followed Hermione throughout the house searching for Rachel. They found her sitting court in the library with Theo and a handful of guests. At her feet were gifts---a cappuccino maker, a toaster, and monogrammed towels. Rachel looked to be in her element, dressed in a pink slip dress. Hermione thought she looked a bit like a queen on her throne with all her loyal subjects fawning at her feet.

Theo sat beside her looking disinterested as Rachel oohed and ahhed over each new gift. What Hermione hoped to do was just deposit the gift on a table and walk out without being noticed, but unfortunately Rachel spotted her and Harry standing in the back of the room.

“Look everyone!” Rachel said loudly. “This is my cousin, Hermione and her scrummy boyfriend, Harry Potter. Isn’t he gorgeous?”

Hermione felt her cheeks redden and as the entire room turned to look at her and Harry.

“Is that for me?” Rachel asked, standing up and seeing the present in Hermione’s hands.

“Um, yeah,” Hermione said, stepping forward to hand the present to Rachel. Rachel ignored the card and dismissively tossed it on the table beside her.

Tearing into the wrapping paper, Rachel opened the box to find an old leather bound book.

“A book?” Rachel asked crinkling up her nose.

“Yes,” Hermione said with a smile. “It’s a first edition of Pride & Prejudice.”

“Is that a cookbook or something?” Rachel asked with an airy laugh.

“No,” Hermione said, shaking her head. “You said it was your favourite book.”

“No,” Rachel said, shaking her head. “Oh, Hermione! I liked the movie. I didn’t even know it was a book!”

The rest of the crowd laughed at Rachel’s biting comments.

“Oh,” Hermione said numbly.

“Well, at least it’s not another cappuccino maker, right Theo? How many do we have now? Six?” Rachel asked sweetly to her fiancé.

As soon as Rachel’s attention wandered to the next present, Hermione caught Harry’s eye and retreated through the French doors and out onto the terrace.

“Hermione,” Harry began, when they were outside.

“Did you see how she turned up her nose?” Hermione asked as she paced back and forth on the stone terrace.

“I liked the gift,” Harry said, coming up beside her. “It was quite thoughtful, Hermione.”

“Why does she always have to be like that?” Hermione asked.

”Just let it go,” Harry said. “Let’s not think about her the rest of the night. Come on, this is a party. We’re supposed to be having fun, right?”

Hermione nodded and felt her anger ebbing away.

“Good,” he said, putting an arm around her and leading her toward the backyard where the sound of live music could be heard.

********************

An hour later, Hermione couldn’t even remember Rachel’s name she was having such a good time. Of course, two glasses of champagne didn’t hurt. As a rule, she usually didn’t drink. Her tolerance was quite low and it didn’t take much to get her tipsy.

She and Harry were dancing underneath the stars to a band that kept playing such great songs. Hermione made a mental note to get Harry to take her out dancing more often. He was actually quite good despite his warning that he would step on her toes.

At the moment, she was standing off to the side waiting for Harry to get back from the loo. Hermione saw her Aunt Catherine approaching her and Hermione suddenly remembered Rachel.

“Having a good time?” Catherine asked.

Hermione nodded happily. Aunt Catherine usually wasn’t so bad. It wasn’t fair to hold the fact that she spawned the child of Satan against her, Hermione thought to herself.

“Good,” Catherine said. “I’ve been meaning to tell you Hermione how wonderful we all think your Harry is.”

Hermione looked at her aunt.

My Harry.

“He is pretty great, isn’t he?” Hermione couldn’t help gushing.

“And he seems absolutely smitten with you,” Catherine whispered to her.

“He does?” Hermione asked.

“My dear niece,” Catherine said with a wink. “Anyone with eyes could see that boy is over the moon for you.”

Hermione couldn’t resist smiling back at her aunt.

“Well, I just wanted to check on you,” Catherine said. “I’m going back inside for a bit. Enjoy the rest of your evening, sweetheart.”

She kissed Hermione’s cheek and Hermione watched as her aunt passed Theo who was walking this way. To Hermione’s surprise, Theo seemed to be heading in her direction.

“If it isn’t the bridesmaid!” Theo said. Hermione could smell the liquor on his breath. She’d only had two glasses of champagne, but it was obvious Theo had indulged in more than that.

“Hello, Theo,” Hermione said, looking around the backyard for any sign of Harry.

“You know you’re actually quite prettier than Rach said you were,” Theo said.

“Thanks,” Hermione said frowning.

“Did you hear about the tradition?” Theo asked, tripping over his own feet as he moved closer to Hermione.

“What tradition?” Hermione asked, still nervously scanning the area for Harry.

“The tra-tradition of the bridegroom and bridesmaid dancing together,” Theo slurred rather loudly.

“No, I must have missed that,” Hermione said with forced politeness.

“Come on,” Theo said, roughly taking Hermione’s hand and starting to lead her onto the dance floor.

“Not so fast,” said a familiar voice behind them. Hermione was never so glad to see someone in her life as she was to see Harry at that moment.

“Surely you wouldn’t mind me stealing her away…for one ittle bittle dance?” Theo asked with a laugh.

“Actually, I would,” Harry said, wrenching Hermione’s hand away from Theo. “She promised this one to me anyway. Didn’t you, sweetheart?”

“Yes,” Hermione said with a mock apologetic smile at Theo.

“Your loss,” Theo said, stumbling away.

Hermione breathed a sigh of relief.

“Where have you been?” she asked Harry.

“Looking for you,” he said smoothly. With that, he drew her into his arms again and Hermione felt herself relax against him. Harry’s breath felt warm on her neck as they moved slowly to the music.

The rest of the party was spent in a blur or music and dancing and Hermione felt alive with energy. Thanks mostly of course to the green-eyed raven haired man who hadn’t left her side the rest of the evening.

Most of the guests were long gone and she and Harry finally decided to call it an evening, too, and head back to their bedroom. Hermione rested her head on Harry’s shoulder as they walked back up to the house.

Hermione stumbled a bit on the top step and looked down to see the heel of her shoe had broken off. “Bugger!” she exclaimed, holding up the shoe for Harry to see. She also slipped out of the other one.

“Looks like I might have to carry you then,” Harry said simply.

Hermione guffawed. “Have you gone mad?”

Harry made a grab for her and Hermione managed to swerve out of his grasp.

“I thought you were a seeker!” she teased as she broke into a run for the house.

“I am,” he said, chasing after her.

Hermione pushed through the French doors and into the house. She had just made it to the base of the stairs when Harry came up quietly behind her and promptly scooped her up into his arms.

“Harry!”

“Gotcha!” he said triumphantly.

They looked at each other and started to laugh. Feeling quite bold, Hermione decided to go with it and wrapped her arms around Harry’s neck. “Okay, Harry, you big hero! Carry me. Let’s see how far you get without magic!”

Hermione didn’t know if it was because she was lightheaded from the champagne, but she felt so overwhelmingly happy. She couldn’t help stealing a glance at Harry’s profile as he carried her up the stairs. He really was quite handsome and charming and…

When he reached the top of the stairs, he stopped abruptly.

“A-ha!” Hermione exclaimed. “Tired already?”

He suddenly turned his head and his lips were pressed against Hermione’s. This wasn’t like before, however. Before, they’d both been pretending in front of Rachel. Now, on the dark staircase, there was no audience. It was just the two of them.

Harry breathlessly pulled away from her and softly said her name. “Hermione…”

“Harry...“ Hermione whispered as she put her hands to his face. She felt an overpowering need to touch each and every part of him. Slowly, she slid her feet to the ground. Her eyes never left his and before she knew it they were kissing again.

Author’s note: Well, here it is…what you’ve all been waiting 11 chapters for… I hope you aren’t disappointed. And be warned, there are cliffies ahead… This was written in the midst of Hurricane Charlie. I live in North Carolina and we are about an hour and a half from the coast. We’re supposed to get high wind and rain later today and I hope it isn’t too bad. My heart goes out to all those in Florida.

Anyways, due to the hurricane, I had nothing else to do today, but write, so you people get this chapter…I hope you enjoy. Please read and review! Oh and you get a song because this was playing while I was writing and I think it fits this chapter perfectly. It’ s “Eternal Flame” by the Bangles.

Chapter 12
Eternal Flame

Close your eyes, give me your hand, darlin'

Do you feel my heart beating

Do you understand

Do you feel the same

Am I only dreaming

Is this burning an eternal flame

I believe it's meant to be, darlin'

I watch you when you are sleeping

You belong with me

Do you feel the same

Am I only dreaming

Or is this burning an eternal flame

When Hermione was a child, she could remember all too well about how her parents never tolerated sweets in the house. Being as her parents were both dentists, they lectured constantly about how candies, cakes and other sweets could rot your teeth. Like any other child, Hermione always wanted to try candy to see what the big fuss was about. She’d always been a dutiful child and always followed their example. But, there had been that one day when she’d gone to a barbecue at the home of a family friend. On the refreshment table, there was a large tray of toffees and cookies. Hermione knew she shouldn’t, but she just couldn’t help herself. There they were…looking so edible and inviting. She’d thought it wouldn’t hurt to have just one.

Well, one quickly turned into two and so on and so on. Hermione ate and ate until she nearly made herself sick. She couldn’t help it. She finally had her hands on something she’d thought about for years and she just couldn’t seem to get enough.

That was akin to how it felt to be kissing Harry. Now that she’d had a little taste of him, she couldn’t seem to get enough. She wanted…more.

Hermione giggled as Harry gallantly picked her up again and started walking toward their bedroom. She tried, unsuccessfully, to keep a straight face as he struggled to open the door and hold on to Hermione at the same time.

“Let me,” she said softly. “You seem to have your hands full.”

“Right,” he said, grinning, as Hermione opened the door. The bedroom was bathed in moonlight from the window and Harry quickly kicked the door closed with his foot. They were kissing again before they reached the bed. Hermione didn’t even know how it happened, but she was at once lying on the bed and then felt Harry’s weight on top of her. She smiled and inched her hands under his shirt and ran her fingers up and down his back.

“What are we doing?” she asked breathlessly as Harry planted kisses down her neckline and along her shoulder.

“I don’t know,” he murmured. She shuddered as he slowly pulled down the straps of her dress. For someone so good with words, Hermione didn’t think she could put into words how good it felt for him to be doing that. She closed her eyes and pushed all the logical thoughts that were trying to come into her head. She was tired of being logical and cautious. For years, she’d wondered what this would be like; what this would feel like. And here it was…happening. Harry was kissing her. Harry was touching her. It was better than she’d ever imagined it could be.

That annoying voice in the back of her head kept calling to her, though. It kept saying that this was Harry James Potter. He was the boy she’d befriended when they were 11. He was the first boy she’d ever been infatuated with. He was the boy she’d stayed up nights worrying about and fretting over more times than she could count. He was the boy she loved then and the man she loved now. And now that she thought about it, she always had. In fact, she couldn’t remember what it was like not to love him.

Why is it that everyone else could see what I didn’t want to admit to myself?

Because you thought it could never happen. Because you didn’t want to set yourself up to get hurt. But, the way he’s looking at me now…the way he just said my name…could it be that he actually wants me as much as I want him?

But what if he doesn’t?

“Maybe this isn’t a good idea,” Hermione heard herself say, but her even to her, her voice sounded weak and unconvincing.

Harry seized her hands and was kissing her palms. “Of course, it’s a good idea,” he whispered huskily. His eyes were half-closed, his face sharp and concentrated with desire.

Reluctantly, Hermione pulled herself out from under him and sat on the edge of the bed. Harry reached for her, but Hermione shrugged out of his hold.

“Harry, I think we should talk about this,” Hermione said seriously.

Harry sighed. “Hermione…what’s there to talk abut? If we talk about it, we’ll talk ourselves out of it, and that’s not what I want. Is that what you want?”

Hermione shook her head.

“But what if we regret it?” she asked, avoiding his gaze.

“I won’t regret it,” Harry said fiercely. He slid from the bed and smoothed his hands over her shoulders. “Come on, Hermione. Let yourself go. We’ve both wanted to do this for years.”

Hermione gave into that usual instinct when anyone asked her about Harry. “I have not.”

That was a lie. She wanted to. In her life, she’d never wanted to do anything more. But, she didn’t know if it would mean the same to Harry as it would to her. Would he think it was “just sex”? She didn’t want to have “just sex” with Harry. But a part of her wondered if that’s what it would be. On Sunday, they’d go home to their normal lives and he’d be out on the pull again. If not with Sabrina, with someone just like her. She’d seen it happen time and time again.

“We’ve pretended this whole weekend, Harry,” Hermione said quietly. “Let’s not pretend about this.”

“I’m not pretending!” Harry retorted. “And neither are you!”

Hermione hadn’t expected him to say that.

“What are we doing then?” she asked, looking earnestly at him.

Harry ran a hand nervously through his hair. Here it was. The moment of truth. She’d asked the question and it was up to him to answer her. He got to his feet, unable to sit on the bed anymore. He walked over to the window and looked down at the grounds. There were still a few scattered people on the lawn, but the party was definitely coming to an end.

“What are we doing?” he asked, repeating her question. He shook his head. “I guess I was wrong before…maybe we have been pretending, Hermione. Since we were 11 years old, people have wondered about you and me, haven’t they? And Ron, too. They wondered which one of us would end up with you. We couldn’t be just friends, could we? That wouldn’t do!”

Hermione looked away from him. She didn’t want to hear this. He was going to break her heart again, wasn’t he?

Harry sighed. “So, you and I…we always denied it, didn’t we? We couldn’t see it. Everyone else did…Krum, Rita Skeeter, Brian. They all saw it. Oh, we kept telling them the old standard that we weren’t anything but friends; that we didn’t see each other that way, but they didn’t buy it for one second. We thought we had them fooled, but they didn’t buy it, Hermione.”

Harry let out a hollow laugh. “And when you think about it, it’s hard not to see how right they were. I never liked Brian. I didn’t like you with Krum. You’ve never liked any of the girls I’ve dated.”

”And so I starting thinking recently…why was that? If you were just my friend and I was just yours, wouldn’t we just want the other to be happy? Isn’t that all you ever want for your ‘friend’?”

“But you’ve never had anyone last more than a couple of weeks,” Hermione heard herself say.

“Exactly!” Harry exclaimed, turning to face her. His green eyes locked on hers. “Can’t you see, Hermione? Why do you think that is?”

“I don’t know,” she said quietly.

“Neither did I,” Harry said, walking slowly across the room. Hermione looked away as Harry sat down beside her on the edge of the bed.

“But, you know what it is?” Harry asked. “Do you really want to know why none of these girls have meant anything to me? Why none of them could ever mean anything to me?”

“Why?” Hermione whispered.

“Because they weren’t you,” he said softly.

Hermione turned to face him. Her brown eyes were searching his face, seemingly trying to figure out if she’d heard him right.

“I’ve been such a complete and utter idiot,” he said, with a wry grin. “All the time looking for the perfect girl and there she was right under my nose. She’s always been there. You’ve always been there for me. When I didn’t think anyone else gave a shit about me, you were always there. When I wanted to push everyone away and wallow in my own guilt, you were the only one who was able to get through to me.”

Harry took her hand and lightly stroked it.

“It’s always been you, Hermione,” he whispered. “I’m sorry I didn’t figure it out sooner. But, we’re here now. We don’t have to pretend anymore. I’m tired of acting like you’re just my friend.”

A tear fell down Hermione’s cheek. Harry lifted a tentative hand to her face and lightly brushed it away.

“I guess what I’m trying to say…not very articulately,” he said with a laugh. “Is that…I…”

His voice trailed off and Hermione felt as if all of her insides were electrified waiting for him to say it...to say what she’d been waiting for years to hear.

“I l-love you, Hermione,” he said softly.

She didn’t say anything. She just stared at Harry with an unreadable expression on her face. A sinking feeling came over Harry as he wondered if he’d read it all wrong. She didn’t feel the same way. He’d cocked everything up by saying the three words he’d wanted to say to her for quite some time.

“Now would be a really good time to say something,” Harry said.

Hermione tried to compose some sort of coherent words together to form a sentence, but her brain didn’t seem to be able to process normally at the moment. In her head she kept hearing those three little words.

“You…you l-love me?” she asked finally.

Harry nodded.

“Me?” she asked weakly.

“You,” Harry said confused. He hated not knowing what was going on inside her head and at the moment she was nearly killing him with her behaviour.

“I can see I’ve made you uncomfortable,” he said, looking away from her. “It wasn’t my intention to do that. How about you and I never mention this again and we’ll just go about as we always have, okay?”

He rose quickly from the bed and made his way toward the bathroom.

“Harry,” Hermione said, just as his hand was on the doorknob.

“You mean it?” she asked, shakily getting to her feet.

“I wouldn’t have said it if I didn’t mean it,” he said, not turning around.

“Look, Hermione…let’s just forget it, okay? We’ll continue as we have…”

“I-I don’t want to continue as we have,” she said slowly inching closer to him.

“You don’t?”

“No,” she said. She reached out her hand to touch Harry’s shoulder.

“What do you want then?” he asked.

Hermione pressed her cheek to Harry’s back.

“You…I want you,” she whispered. “I’ve always wanted you.”

Harry slowly turned around and Hermione stepped back.

“I love you, Harry.”

“Say it again,” he requested.

A smile played on Hermione’s lips as she watched a nearly identical smile play on his.

“I love you, Harry,” she repeated. “I love-“

She didn’t get to finish it a third time because he’d taken her in his arms and pressed his lips urgently to hers. Hermione wrapped her arms around his neck and ran her fingers through his hair as he deepened the kiss. Since Harry’s shirt was already unbuttoned from earlier, Hermione merely pushed it off his shoulders and threw it to the floor. With one hand on Hermione’s waist, Harry used his other hand to unzip the dress. It slowly fell to the floor and Hermione stood there in her strapless bra and knickers, feeling her breath catch in her throat as she looked at Harry looking at her.

There was that look in his eyes again, but she knew what it was now. She knew that he loved her, he wanted her, that he needed her. She could read that all in that one look. She made a mental note to remember every second of this because this was what she’d been waiting for; what she’d dreamed of for so long.

Taking the initiative, Hermione took Harry’s hand and led him back toward the bed. She kissed him again and moved her hands down his chest, to his stomach and down to his trousers where she made quick work of unzipping them. Once he was free of his trousers, Hermione lay back on the bed and pulled Harry on top of her. They kissed some more, reveling in the feeling of doing what they’d both wanted to for so long. There was no hurry. They were taking this slow because neither of them wanted it to end.

Hermione pushed gently on Harry’s chest and he pulled away from her, wondering if she was having second thoughts. She gave him a reassuring smile though and reached behind her back to undo the clasps of her bra. With trembling hands, she slowly pulled it away from her breasts. She kept her eyes focused on Harry’s and smiled shyly at him.

He cupped her face in his hands and leaned in to kiss her and she fell back onto the pillows again. He positioned himself so he wouldn’t crush her and kissed her neck and Hermione felt a surge of pleasure run through her as Harry kissed his way down to her breasts. As good as that felt, she wanted to taste his lips again and tugged at his arms to bring him back to her. His eyes searched hers for some okay that this was what she wanted; that this was what she wanted to do.

She nodded and Harry kissed her gently.

They couldn’t have turned back now, even if they’d wanted to.

************

********

Sometime near 3 a.m., Harry awoke. Hermione was still fast asleep, a smile on her face. She looked absolutely beautiful. He leaned over her and brushed a strand of hair from her forehead and softly kissed her.

She awoke and smiled sleepily at him. “What?”

“I was just watching you sleep,” he said laughing. “I can do that, can I?”

“Yes,” she said, rubbing her eyes. “What are you doing up?”

“I was thinking of going downstairs and nicking a bottle of champagne for us,” he said conspiratorially. “What do you think?”

She kissed him. “I think that sounds perfect. We do have a lot to celebrate, don’t we?”

“Hmmmm,” he murmured as she kissed him again. “Hold that thought okay? I’ll be right back.”

“Mmm, okay,” she whispered, already feeling tired from the day’s events as well as what she and Harry had done earlier.

“Don’t fall back asleep on me,” he warned, as he slipped back into his boxer shorts and for good measure a t-shirt. It was doubtful he’d run into anyone downstairs. To be sure, the party would have ended long ago and everyone would most undoubtedly be fast asleep.

With one last look at Hermione…who had fallen fast asleep again…Harry closed the door behind him and went in search of that champagne. He felt like he did when he flew. He’d thought that nothing could ever come close to the feeling he got when he flew on his broom. He’d been dead wrong. Being with Hermione…hearing her say she loved him…hearing he say his name…it was much better than flying. He couldn’t believe that they were finally here…they were at the same point…together.

He was humming to himself as he opened up the patio doors and saw that there were some champagne bottles still chilling in ice buckets near the outside bar. There was no one to be seen and not a sound was heard, save for the distant ocean and the waves hitting the shore.

Harry quickly grabbed a bottle and two flutes and made his way back toward the house. He heard the sound of someone groaning though just before he made it inside. To his surprise, Rachel was asleep on one of the patio chairs. Well, she wasn’t asleep, as Harry discovered upon getting a closer look. She was wide awake, but didn’t look as if she could move if she tried.

“Rachel?” Harry asked, leaning down and gently nudging her. “Are you alright?”

“Harry,” she said hoarsely.

Harry could smell the liquor on her breath and could tell she’d obviously gotten quite pissed. The strange thing was that Harry didn’t think girls did that on the night before they were to be married.

“Rachel?” Harry asked again. “You need to get back into the house and get to bed.”

Rachel giggled. “I thought you’d never ask.”

“You know what I mean,” Harry said, trying to keep his patience.

“Yes, I do,” she said, lifting her hand and placing it on Harry’s cheek. “You’re sooooo good-looking, Harry. I can’t believe you’re with my *hiccup* cousin.”

“I love your cousin,” Harry said. “Very much.”

“She’s a goody-goody,” Rachel said, leaning up in her chair. Harry helped her sit up. “She’s never going to make you happy. She’d never satisfy you.”

Harry wanted to laugh. If Rachel had known what happened a few minutes ago, she’d know that Hermione could make him happy and she’d definitely satisfied him.

“Come on, Rachel,” Harry said impatiently. “It’s late. You need to be in bed. You’re getting married in a few hours.”

Rachel just giggled.

“Marriage, Rachel,” Harry said, recoiling as Rachel leaned in and he got another whiff of her alcohol-tinged breath. “Theo. Wedding. Dress. Flowers. Ceremony. Any of that ringing a bell?”

Rachel laughed. “How about I ring your b-bell?”

Harry rolled his eyes. It was times like these that he really hated being the kind of guy who never left a person in distress. He sometimes wished he didn’t always feel the need to play the hero.

“Rachel?” he asked, getting to his feet. He bent his knees and supported Rachel and with his help, she shakily stood. He wrapped an arm around her and slowly led her into the house. She wasn’t making things too easy for him as she was constantly whispering suggestive comments to him. What Harry wanted most of all was to get back to Hermione and leave Rachel at the foot of the stairs, but he knew he had to see Rachel back to her room.

Unfortunately just as he and Rachel made it to the stairs, Harry remembered he’d forgotten the champagne bottle. Oh well, by the time I get Rachel upstairs, I’ll be too damn knackered for anything, he mused silently.

In what seemed like an eternity later, Harry finally made it to Rachel’s bedroom and helped her to her bed. He was about to leave when Rachel grabbed hold of his t-shirt.

A serious expression on her face, she looked pleadingly at Harry. “Will you please just stay with me until I fall asleep?”

Harry shook his head. “I should get back to Hermione.”

“Please,” Rachel slurred. “You can sit on my chair over there and just wait until I fall asweep, pwease?”

Seeing that she wasn’t going to drop this, Harry reluctantly nodded. Hopefully, Rachel wouldn’t be awake for too much longer and he could get back to where he really wanted to be and where he shouldn’t have left.

Harry walked over to the armchair opposite Rachel’s bed and leaned back. He could hear Rachel humming a tune and giggling softly.

Catching a glimpse of her bedside clock, Harry noticed it was nearly 4 a.m. He was knackered. All that activity he and Hermione had done earlier in the day on the beach was now beginning to catch up to him. The chair he was sitting in was uncomfortable as hell and he longed to be back in the cozy, warm bed with Hermione. His last thoughts before he drifted off to sleep were of Hermione.

*****

The next morning, Hermione awoke with a smile on her face. She couldn’t remember ever feeling so happy and loved in her entire life. It was perfect. She only wished that she and Harry didn’t have to go to the wedding and could spend the rest of the day wrapped up in bed.

Sleepily, she reached across the bed to touch him, but to her surprise…he wasn’t there.

“Harry?” she called out. There was no answer.

Hermione wondered if he’d gone downstairs for breakfast like he’d done the day before. She wished he would have waited for her. Perhaps they could have even shared the shower.

Oh, well. There’s always later.

She grinned and kicked her feet on the bed playfully. Turning over, she buried her face in the pillow and squealed. After reveling in her happiness for a little longer, she decided she’d better shower and change. She wanted to see Harry. With how happy she was, she couldn’t see how Rachel could say nor do anything to bring her down.

The wedding was to be held at noon so Hermione didn’t dress for the wedding just yet. She threw on a pair of jeans and a simple grey t-shirt after she showered. Her hair was still slightly damp as she closed the bedroom door behind her.

She felt like skipping as she walked down the corridor toward the staircase. A broad smile was fixed on her face and she wondered if her cheeks would be hurting by the end of the day from smiling.

That smile faded quickly when a door suddenly opened in front of her and out came Harry, wearing only his boxer shorts and a t-shirt. His hair was as messy as ever and he was yawning as he closed the door behind him.

Hermione’s heart sank. He just came out of Rachel’s bedroom.

Harry’s eyes found Hermione’s and the look on her face said it all.

“Hermione…” he began.

“Harry?” she managed to choke out.

No, this can’t be happening. He couldn’t have been with Rachel…not after he was with me. He wouldn’t have done that…would he?

Harry soon cottoned on to what Hermione was thinking and he wanted to laugh at the absurdity of it.

“No, Hermione,” he said, shaking his head. “It’s not what you think…”

Author’s note: Awful cliffie, isn’t it? I’m sorry! I really am! I hope to have another chapter out soon to not be really cruel and make you wait so long. Mwhhahahahah!

Author’s note: Sorry for the long wait for this one, ya’ll. I apologize! You can thank the Olympics for that…it had me a bit preoccupied! But, here’s the latest update. And for those of you who thought the worst, I hope you are going to be pleasantly surprised!

Also, if you would like to read something else while you wait for your next update, please read the story I am currently co-writing with Heaven. It is the sequel to Dirty Dancing called The Time of their Life . We’re having a lot of fun writing it and if you liked our first collaboration together, I am sure that you’ll like this one…at least I hope so. And please leave us a review and let us know what you think!

Chapter 13

About Last Night…

This “saving people” thing that had worked for so many people in the past was now coming back to bite Harry on the arse and he knew that someday it would. Hermione had been right that time during fifth year when she’d called him on it. He did have a need to save people. It was what he basically did for a living, but helping Rachel last night could now cost him the love of his life.

He wondered at the justice of it all. He finally had what he’d always wanted; what he’d always needed. And with one kind act, he was going to lose it all.

Would it have been so terrible for me to have just left Rachel on that patio chair? Why did I stay in her room last night? She was so pissed out of her mind she wouldn’t have even noticed if I hadn’t. Yet, she’d asked, and I stayed. Maybe I’m one of those people who don’t know how to be happy so I just screw it up before I even get a chance.

This wasn’t the time to throw a pity party for himself and Harry knew it. Hermione was still standing in front of him. She hadn’t bolted back toward the bedroom and slammed the door shut in his face and yelled that she never wanted to speak to him again. There was always a bright spot to everything and this, while quite small, was something and he decided that he was still in with a chance.

If only she’d say something so I know what’s going on in that beautiful, intelligent head of hers.

Harry wanted to talk to her and tell her that whatever she was thinking was all wrong. But, he didn’t want to do this standing outside her cousin’s bedroom.

“Come with me,” he said softly, taking her hand and leading her back toward their bedroom. He closed the door firmly behind him and watched as she sat on the edge of the unmade bed. Nervously, he ran a hand through his already mussed hair. In his head, he tried to formulate the right words to say to her to make her understand. Thinking he had something, he opened his mouth to speak, but was cut off by Hermione.

“I, um, was worried when I woke up and you were gone,” she said quietly, her eyes fixed on his. “But, you never came back last night, did you?”

Morosely, Harry shook his head.

“But there’s a good reason for that, Hermione,” he said quickly.

She said nothing, just stared back at him with that infuriating, unreadable expression.

As he tried to think about what to say, he wondered how he’d feel if the situations were reversed.

I’d probably be thinking the same thing she’s probably thinking now. But, Hermione has always been more sensible, logical and grounded than me. She knows better than to jump to conclusions, doesn’t she? She’s always been one to step back and analyze the situation before making rash decisions. When Ron and I were ready to strike first and ask questions later, she was always the one reining us in and reminding us that things weren’t always what they seemed. Please tell me that she hasn’t decided to change her tune now.

“I found her out on patio all alone,” Harry explained. “She was pissed. I helped her back to her bedroom. Believe me, it was all I could do to keep her on her feet. When we finally made it upstairs, she asked me to stay until she fell asleep.”

“And you did,” Hermione interjected.

Harry nodded. “I sat down in the chair and I was so damn knackered that I fell asleep, Hermione. The next thing I know, the sun is shining through her window and I have this bloody crick in my neck.”

He closed the distance between them and sat down beside her on the bed. Putting his hand on her chin, he turned her face toward him.

“Hermione, nothing happened,” he whispered, his face serious.

There was that same unreadable expression again. He found himself getting angry that he didn’t seem to be getting through to her.

“Hermione, you know me. You know me better than I know myself,” he said steadily. Do you really think that I’d sleep with you and then go shag your cousin, too?”

“I-I never accused you of doing that,” Hermione replied.

“You didn’t have to!” he said, shaking his head. “You didn’t say a bloody word and just kept looking at me as if you knew I was guilty. Do you have any idea how much that hurt?”

He got to his feet and paced in front of the bed.

“I mean, for Merlin’s sake, Hermione! I’d rather eat Christmas dinner with the Dursleys, Snape and Voldemort than shag your cousin!” he said shaking his head.

Giggling filled the room. Harry turned to see Hermione giggling.

“What?” he asked, wondering why she was laughing now?

“I’m sorry,” she said, biting her bottom lip to get control. “It’s just that right after you said that, I had this vision in my head of such a meeting…you, Voldemort, the Dursleys and Snape at Christmas dinner…”

The sudden image of such a dinner party came into Hermione’s head at that moment and she started to giggle. Within seconds, she was laughing so hard tears were in her eyes. When Harry realized she wasn’t laughing at him, but at what he’d just said, he too started to laugh. He fell onto the bed until he was laughing so hard his ribs hurt.

““I’m sorry,” she said, hiccupping. “But I just pictured that in my mind. It’s just…”

“The most unlikely dinner party in history?” Harry finished for her, propping himself up on his elbow.

“So,” he said looking at her as their laughter began to ebb, “does this mean you believe me?”

She nodded. “I didn’t know what to think at first. I mean, I walk out into the hallway and then you come out of Rachel’s bedroom in your boxer shorts…it was just…the thing is, Harry. You were right. I do know you. I know you wouldn’t have done that, especially not after…”

Her voice trailed off and she was glad that her cheeks were already red from laughing so he couldn’t tell she was blushing.

“Not after last night?” he asked, feeling a wave of relief wash over him.

“Did something happen last night?” she asked coyly.

“Yes, something happened last night,” he said pretending to be affronted. “Of course, I’d be willing to refresh your memory…”

His words were cut off this time by Hermione pressing her lips to his. She put her hand on the nape of his neck and brought him down on top of her. Harry deepened the kiss and slowly brought his hand under the t-shirt she wore and Hermione gasped into his mouth.

Harry groaned as there was a knock on the door.

“Ignore it,” Hermione whispered, kissing his neck.

But, the person on the other side of the door apparently wasn’t going to give up that easy.

“Bugger,” Hermione said, as Harry rolled off of her and she got to her feet. Since she was the more presentable of the two of them, she walked toward the door. She paused at the mirror and smoothed down her hair and t-shirt.

Swinging open the door, she saw Aunt Catherine.

“Hermione, sweetheart,” Catherine said. “We really need you this morning. That daughter of mine hit the sauce a little too hard last night. She’s in the bath right now, but I’m going to need you to help me out this morning.”

“Oh,” Hermione said, nodding. “Of course.”

“She knows better than that,” Catherine said, shaking her head. “But, you can never tell Rachel anything.”

“I’ll be right down,” Hermione said.

“Good,” Catherine said, kissing her niece on the cheek. “There are some bagels and pastries and coffee downstairs if you and Harry want to grab something.”

Hermione closed the door and sighed.

“Raincheck?” she asked, smiling at him.

“Definitely,” he said, getting off the bed. “Go be the good cousin and I’ll grab a shower.”

“I’d rather grab a shower with you,” Hermione said, looping her arms around his neck.

“We’ll get to go home tonight,” he said huskily. “And we can stay in all night.”

“Promise?” she asked, leaning in for a kiss.

“Promise.”

*********

***********************

Hermione was in what she had taken to calling bridesmaid hell. For the past hour, she’d listened to Rachel whine about everything from her hair, to her makeup, to how pale her skin looked. Rachel kept saying how she’d spent all this time working on her tan so she’d be beautiful for her wedding and now she looked pasty and pale.

Hermione wanted to point out that Rachel shouldn’t have decided to drink herself into a stupor the night before her wedding, but she’d done what she’d always done where Rachel was concerned. She bit her tongue and kept quiet. Rachel, however, wasn’t making things any easier.

The ceremony was nearly an hour and a half away and Rachel was no where near ready. The professional hair stylist who was doing her hair had already done and redone Rachel’s hair and each time Rachel would shriek that it was terrible. Hermione could tell the stylist was about at her wit’s end.

At the moment, Rachel was sitting at her dressing table, nibbling on some saltines and drinking soda water, hoping to settle her stomach. When Hermione had arrived in Rachel’s room, Rachel was hunched over the toilet in her bathroom, dry heaving.

If this had been anyone else, Hermione would have felt compassion for them. She might even have whipped up a quick hangover potion, but this was Rachel. Besides, Hermione thought, Rachel didn’t know Hermione was a witch. Why should she get to reap the benefits of it now?

“God, I look so awful,” Rachel said, staring at her reflection in the mirror. “I shouldn’t have drunk as much as I did last night. I wish Mummy would have stopped me.”

“You’re a grown woman, Rachel,” Hermione heard herself saying. She was sitting on Rachel’s bed flipping through a magazine. “Your mother never has been able to stop you from doing whatever it was you wanted to do.”

“You’re right,” Rachel said, nodding. She pinched her cheeks trying to bring some color back to them. “Hermione…how do you do it?”

“Do what?” Hermione asked absently.

“You’re always so pale and pasty,” Rachel said. “And you seem fine with it…”

Hermione seethed.

You only have to get through this last hour and a half and then the ceremony and the reception. In a few hours, Harry and I will be on our way home. I won’t have to worry about Rachel. Just keep quiet and ignore her comments for a bit longer and I’m home free.

“I’m not pale and pasty,” Hermione said, looking at her arms. She’d caught quite a bit of sun the past couple of days and she had a healthy glow about her.

“Well, not now,” Rachel said, shrugging. “But you usually are. I just wondered how you can live with it day in and day out.”

“I just do,” Hermione said. “Look, Rachel. You’ve got to start getting ready. You’re ceremony is in less than an hour and a half. Your mum is trying to appease the stylist. Just put your makeup on and let her fix your hair and I’m sure you’ll look as great as you always do.”

“Great?” Rachel said, staring at her cousin openmouthed. “I can’t look bloody great on my wedding day! I have to look beautiful! I have to be stunning!”

Hermione turned away from Rachel and rolled her eyes.

“Look,” Hermione said, trying to keep her emotions in check. She was a patient person, but this was above and beyond what any normal, rational person was expected to deal with. What Hermione needed was a break. What Hermione wanted was to see Harry. Even if it was only for a couple of minutes, at least it would boost her spirits.

“I’m just going to pop down the hall and get into my dress,” Hermione said sighing.

“Just make sure you come back,” Rachel said, turning back to her dressing table and picking up a cracker.

Hermione nodded and quickly walked out of Rachel’s room and toward her own bedroom. She prayed Harry was in there. To her delight, he was.

“Hey,” he said, smiling at her. He was dressed in a charcoal grey three-button suit and blue dress shirt.

“Don’t you look handsome?” she asked grinning.

“I hate getting all dressed up like this,” he admitted, turning around and trying to straighten his tie. Hermione walked over to him and turned him around. She smoothed down his suit and straightened his tie.

“That’s a shame because you look really scrummy all dressed up,” she said, kissing him.

“Thank you,” he said, holding onto her. “And what about you…surely Miss Rachel isn’t going to let you walk down the aisle in jeans, a t-shirt and your trainers, is she?”

“No, of course not,” Hermione answered with a laugh. “She’d not have that, would she? I just came back in here to get my dress, which to Rachel’s credit isn’t all that hideous.”

Hermione walked over to the closet and pulled out her bridesmaid dress which was wrapped in plastic. It was a very nice dress actually and Hermione knew it had more to do with Rachel wanting everything to be perfect for her wedding rather than picking a dress that she knew would suit Hermione. The dress was a cornflower blue satin strapless Princess-line dress with silvery embroidery and beading.

“You lot sure are cutting it close aren’t you?” Harry asked. He looked down at his watch. Ceremony’s in a little over an hour.”

Hermione rolled her eyes. “Typical Rachel. She’s still coping with her major hangover and making everyone else pay for it.”

“Sorry you have to go through all of this,” Harry said sympathetically. “How about you and I skive off the wedding and hit the beach again.”

“You have no idea how much I’d love to take up on that offer,” Hermione said wistfully. “Have you been alright by yourself?”

“Yeah,” Harry said, nodding. “I had breakfast with your dad. I think he likes me.”

“My dad has always liked you,” Hermione said. “You know that.”

“What’s not to like?” Harry asked puffing out his chest proudly. “No, he and I had a nice little talk and he told me that if I hurt his daughter he’d kill me. …which is pretty much the same thing Ron said.”

“Hang on a minute!” Hermione said, staring at Harry. “Ron knows?”

“Yeah,” Harry answered. “That’s okay, isn’t it? I mean, he doesn’t know that you and I have …you know…yet…but he knows that I have feelings for you. It was his bright idea for me to come along with you to the wedding. Anyway, he told me if I broke your heart, he’d cripple me.”

“He did, did he?” Hermione said with a giggle. “That’s so sweet. Scary, of course, but sweet.”

Harry laughed. He moved closer to her wanting to give her a kiss. Just before their lips met, a shrill voice called out in the corridor.

“HERMIONE!” Rachel screamed. “I NEED YOUR HELP!”

Hermione rolled her eyes. “Foiled again.”

“Temporarily postponed,” Harry said, giving her a quick, chaste kiss.

“Right,” Hermione said softly. When Rachel screamed again, Hermione reluctantly gathered her dress and shoes together.

“You’re riding over to the church with my parents, aren’t you?” she asked. Harry nodded.

“I’m going to try and see if they’ll give up any cute, embarrassing Hermione stories,” Harry said devilishly.

“On second thought, maybe I could ride over to the church with you and my parents,” Hermione said. Although she was very glad that her parents and Harry were obviously getting along, she didn’t like the group of them telling embarrassing tales about her to each other.

“No can do,” Harry said, pushing her out of the bedroom. “You have to ride over with Rachel.”

“You know how to kick a girl when she’s down, don’t you?” Hermione asked, the serious expression she’d had on her face fading into a big grin. She couldn’t help but smile when she was so happy.

“See you at the church,” Hermione said as they reached Rachel’s bedroom. Although her hands were full with her dress and shoes, it didn’t stop Harry from leaning in and giving her a deep kiss.

”See you at the church,” he whispered before leaving Hermione feeling a little dazed as she walked back into Rachel’s room.

*******************

Miraculously, the bridal party made it to the church with at least twenty minutes to spare. In total, there were three bridesmaids including Hermione. The two girls seemed to have no other purpose but to boost Rachel’s ego. Every few seconds, one or the other would compliment Rachel on her hair or on her nails or on her shoes. Hermione shuddered as she remembered how the two girls had squealed when they’d seen Rachel in her dress.

Rachel was using one of the anterooms of the church as her makeshift dressing room. Hermione, at the moment, was getting her hair done by the stylist in an adjacent room.

“Thank you,” Hermione said, admiring the stylist’s work in the mirror. “I love it.”

“You’re quite welcome,” the stylist said warmly. “Good luck, today.”

“Thank you,” Hermione said, getting up from the chair and walking out of the room. She took a deep breath and reminded herself not to pay much mind to anything Rachel had to say. Rachel was just being who she always was and Hermione wasn’t going to let her get to her. Taking a deep breath, she made for the door to open it, but what Rachel was saying stopped her from pushing the door open all the way.

“His name is Harry Potter,” Rachel was saying in a tone that implied she and Harry were old friends. The two other bridesmaids, Millie and Tina giggled.

“He’s gorgeous, isn’t he?” Rachel continued. “And quite the gallant gentleman if I must say so myself.”

“But isn’t he dating your cousin?” Millie asked.

“Yeah,” Rachel said with a dismissive laugh. “But she’s not really his type, is she? I don’t see that lasting too long.”

From just outside the room, Hermione sighed. Keep control. You only have to put up with this for another couple of hours.

“He’s in law enforcement. You know all that cloak and dagger stuff, right? And he personally saved me last night. I drank a bit too much and he helped me to my room.” Rachel said conversationally.

“Helped you to your room?” Tina asked intrigued. “Rachel, you are so bad!”

Rachel grinned. “Well, you know I’m not married yet. And he’s been flirting with me since he arrived. I’m telling you, there was chemistry between the two of us right from the start. And I figured, Theo and I aren’t married yet…I owe myself one last fling, don’t I?”

“Raaaachel!” Tina squealed. “How was he?”

“Fantastic,” Rachel bragged.

Hermione fumed. She wasn’t about to let Rachel get away with this. She didn’t care that the wedding was about to start or that a church probably wasn’t the best place to read your cousin the riot act. She’d taken it for years from Rachel and she wasn’t going to do it anymore.

Pushing open the door forcefully, Hermione walked inside. Sure enough, Tina and Millie gasped and Rachel tried to play it off as if they weren’t talking about Harry.

“Hermione…” Rachel began, but Hermione held up her hand.

“Enough, Rachel,” she said loudly. “I heard what you just said…”

Rachel’s smile faltered a bit, but she covered. “We were just having a laugh before the ceremony, Hermione.”

“A laugh?” Hermione repeated. “A laugh, huh? So, you were with Harry last night, huh? Telling Millie and Tina here all about it, right?”

“Hermione…”

“No,” Hermione said with a laugh. “I think Millie and Tina deserve the full details, don’t you? I mean, we’re all friends here, aren’t we?”

“Uh, of course,” Millie said, but her voice trailed off when Rachel shot her an irritated look.

“Well, I’m sure Rachel told you all about how she got pissed on the night before her wedding,” Hermione explained. “And how she passed out on a patio chair at around 2 a.m. and Harry found her, but he didn’t do anything but help her spoiled, drunk arse to her bedroom!”

“Okay, Hermione,” Rachel hissed. “That’s enough. This isn’t the time or the place—“

“Oh, now you care,” Hermione retorted. “You’re in a church lying about shagging your cousin’s boyfriend and I’m the one who should stop?”

“Hermione…”

“No,” Hermione said sternly. “I’m sick of sitting and taking it. You are nothing, but a spoiled, wretched person who wants to make everyone feel bad so she can feel better about herself. Well, I’m not going to listen to it anymore!”

“Fine!” Rachel exclaimed, getting to her feet. “I didn’t even want you in my wedding! Mummy made me ask you!”

“Ask yourself if I care,” Hermione said going over to the sofa and picking up her bag. Without even a backwards glance at Rachel, Hermione stormed out of the room, feeling much better than she had in hours.

She pushed through the double doors leading to the chapel and saw that there was a large crowd gathered. She caught sight of Harry sitting a few rows back with her parents. His eyes found hers and he looked at her with a bewildered expression on his face. Hermione knew everyone in the chapel was looking at her and wondering why one of the bridesmaids was walking into the chapel moments before the ceremony began carrying a bag.

“Hermione?” Harry asked when she reached him.

“I have to get out of here,” Hermione whispered in his ear. “Now.”

“Now?” he asked her. “Is everything okay?”

“Bloody fantastic,” she said with a secret smile at him.

“Hermione?” her mother asked a concerned expression on her face. “What on earth is going on?”

“I’ll explain later, Mum,” Hermione said softly. “I just need to go.”

“But you’re in the wedding…you can’t leave,” Karen said to her daughter.

“I have to, Mum,” Hermione said apologetically. “Really.”

”Okay,” Karen said flummoxed. She sat back down beside her husband and watched as Hermione took Harry’s hand and he led her out of the church.

When they were standing on the steps in front of the church, Harry stopped. “Hermione, do you mind telling me what’s going on?”

“It doesn’t matter,” Hermione said beaming at him. “Will you do something for me?”

“Anything,” he said, stroking her hand.

“Take me home,” she said softly. “Please.”

Author’s note: One more chapter left….

Author’s note: I am so sorry for making ya’ll wait so long for this last chapter. I think a part of me was putting it off because I really didn’t want to end it. But here it is…I hope the ending doesn’t disappoint. Again, I apologize for making ya’ll wait so long for the finale to this story. I have enjoyed writing it and am really glad that ya’ll seemed to like it, too. Please let me know what you think! I thrive on reviews.

Chapter Fourteen

Homecoming

Hermione stood just behind Harry as he fumbled in his trousers pocket for the keys to the house. She’d never been happier to see 12 Grimmauld Place than she was at this moment. The train ride back from Brighton had been quite long. She’d slept most of the way home as had Harry. They’d not spoken much since they’d left her aunt and uncle’s estate.

After Harry finally found the keys and unlocked the door, he held the door open for Hermione. As she walked past him into the house, she gave him a slight smile.

The house was dark and she blindly searched for the light switch. It was good to be home, she thought. She told herself to remember that this was his home, not hers. She was only a guest living here temporarily until she could find a place of her own.

But, that had been before this weekend. So much had changed in such a small period of time. Her brain went into over-analyzing mode and a barrage of questions invaded her mind. Did he want her to stay…permanently? Sure, they’d confessed their love, but no talk about the future had taken place. Perhaps it was too early to ask him about that. The last thing she wanted to do now that she had him was to scare him away.

And what about tonight, she wondered as she watched him absently go through the post. Would they talk? They were both tired, after all. Would he sleep in his own bed and would she sleep in hers? Would they carry on as they always did? Maybe the weekend in Brighton had been a fluke. She’d been there and he’d decided to settle an old curiosity.

Immediately, she chastised herself for allowing those old insecurities to rear their ugly little heads again. Harry loved her. He’d told her that. She believed him. Yet, she couldn’t stop the doubts from clouding her mind again. Not about him, of course, but about what it all meant. They certainly couldn’t go back to how they were. Things between them had irrevocably changed.

She looked at him and wondered what he was thinking. Was he wondering what it all meant too?

Deciding they’d just talk about it in the morning, Hermione walked over to her suitcase and picked it up. She hadn’t moved three centimeters when she felt Harry’s hand on hers.

“What are you doing?” he asked. Dropping the suitcase to the floor, she apprehensively looked up at him. With a nervous laugh, she said, “I was just going to bring my case upstairs. That’s all.”

“Oh,” he said.

Oh? That’s all you can say? What are you thinking and why won’t you say anything to me?

Searching in his piercing green eyes, she thought she saw a flicker of disappointment.

A moment of uncomfortable silence passed between them and Hermione wondered how this was possible after all that they’d shared over the years and even during this weekend.

“What a weekend, eh?” she asked with a trademark roll of her eyes, in an effort to break the tension and lighten the mood.

“Do you have to say it like that?” he asked with a nervous laugh of his own. “I mean, it was certainly eventful, but not all of it was bad. At least…it wasn’t for me.”

A smile played at Hermione’s lips. She shook her head. “No, you’re right. It wasn’t all bad. Parts of it were actually quite nice.”

Harry put a hand to his heart and look of mock pain came across his handsome features. “Quite nice? You thought parts of your weekend were quite nice? That’s how you describe a present your grandmother gave you for your birthday even if you didn’t like it, Hermione.”

Hermione giggled. “Well, it was quite nice actually. I was debating between using that phrase and the equally polite ‘really nice’. “

“Even better,” Harry said sarcastically. “Okay, so you---Hermione Jane Granger---who happens to be the most verbose person I know can describe the weekend where you and I---among other things---slept together for the first time and I told you I loved you---as quite nice.”

Hermione nodded, enjoying the banter between them. It seemed like old times.

“Okay,” Harry said, pacing in front of her. Before Hermione knew what he was doing, he’d walked up to her and thrown her over his shoulder.

“Harry James Potter!” she exclaimed. “What on earth are you doing?”

“I think I’ve just picked you up, “ he said, patting her bottom.

“You know what I mean!” Hermione said, hitting him on the back with her fist. “Put me down this instant!”

“I will, I will,” Harry said calmly. “Don’t get your knickers in a twist just yet, Hermione. I plan on putting you down on solid ground as soon as I get you upstairs!”

“Harry,” Hermione lectured. “This is exactly how the two of us got into trouble last time.”

“Trouble?” Harry asked shaking his head as best he could with Hermione hoisted over his shoulder. “Trouble? So now we’ve gone to quite nice to trouble.”

He started to climb the stairs.

“You’re only digging yourself in deeper, Hermione. I swear if I didn’t love you so much, I might get offended.”

Hermione laughed and hit Harry on the back with her fist. “Would you please put me down? This isn’t funny. If you drop me…”

“Oh ye of little faith,” Harry said, walking up the stairs as if he wasn’t carrying anything heavier than a feather.

“This is totally barbaric!” Hermione protested, trying not to look down as he carried her higher up the stairs.

“If it makes you feel any better, next time we do this, you can carry me over your shoulders,” Harry said impishly.

“S-sure,” Hermione said hiccupping. “Not without a levitation spell.”

Harry laughed as he finally made it to the second floor and stood at the foot of the stairs. Hermione lifted her head off of his back. “Why are you stopping, Harry?”

“Your room or mine?” he asked simply.

“Your room or mine for….?” she asked before hiccupping yet again.

“Oh, now you’re going to be like that?” he asked laughing. “You know exactly what I mean! Okay, I guess that means…my bedroom.”

Quickening his pace, he walked down the hall toward his room and swung the door open. He didn’t turn on the lights as he finally set Hermione down. The only light in the room came from the moonlight shining in from the window.

Hermione shivered as he looked down at her.

“Are you cold?” he asked her, running his hands up and down her arms.

“A little,” she admitted.

He smiled as he pulled her to him and softly kissed her. Whereas she’d been thinking and analyzing before, she felt all rational thought slowly leaving her. She didn’t want to think. There’d be time for that later as there always was. Right now, at this moment, all she wanted to do was touch, feel and taste. Without breaking their kiss, she slowly began to undo the buttons of his shirt. He deepened the kiss as she pushed his shirt off his shoulders and it fell to the floor.

Breathlessly, they broke apart. Harry lifted her tee shirt over her head and it joined his shirt on the floor. Their lips crashed together again and Hermione didn’t know how, but they were suddenly on the bed. All thoughts of Rachel, the wedding and anything but him faded away.

***** ****** ************

***** ****** ************

The next morning, Harry awoke to the sound of the doorbell chiming insistently. Hermione mumbled something, but she fell back asleep. He hoped whoever was at his door at the crack of dawn would get the hint and go away. Unfortunately, the ringing became more persistent.

Grumbling to himself, Harry pulled the covers back and slipped his boxer shorts back on. Putting his glasses on, he then grabbed a t-shirt and headed out of the bedroom. He’d just put the shirt on when he opened the door to find Ron standing there with a goofy grin on his face.

“There he is,” Ron said, smiling. “So you’re back then?”

“No,” Harry said grumpily. “I’m a figment of your imagination.”

“Good morning, sunshine to you, too,” Ron said, breezing past Harry and into the house. “I just wanted to return the spare set of keys to you. I couldn’t get by yesterday to get the post, but I think you’ll find that I did an okay job of keeping an eye on things.”

Ron pressed the keys into Harry’s hand. “Hey, do you have anything to eat?”

“Ron,” Harry said, trying to keep his patience. “It’s early. Thanks for bringing my keys back and thanks for checking on things while I was gone, but I really…”

“Nonsense,” Ron said. “I was happy to do it. And why are you saying its early? It’s nearly noon, Harry. Don’t tell me you’ve been in bed since you got home.”

Harry nodded, reluctantly following his friend into the kitchen.

“Pretending to be Hermione’s boyfriend tire you out?” Ron asked jokingly as he opened the ice box and helped himself to some juice---drinking it straight from the carton.

“Hey!” Harry said, angrily taking the carton. “Other people have to drink out of that you know.”

“Only you,” Ron said nonplussed.

“Look, Ron, again…I appreciate you coming by…”

Ron slowly began to realize what must be going on here. Harry obviously didn’t want him to stay. He wanted to get back upstairs. And if Harry had finally hooked up with Hermione he certainly would have told him straightaway. Instead, he’d obviously found some floozy at the wedding and brought her back here to have his way with her.

Ron felt anger rising in him. Where was Hermione? Probably crying in her pillow over Harry being his usual clueless self, he thought to himself.

Visions of having to split his time between his two best friends entered into his head. They’d both expect him to take sides. He couldn’t take that. And he wouldn’t allow Harry to do like he always did; at least not with Hermione. Ron had warned him after all. If Harry broke Hermione’s heart, he’d cripple him.

“Ron?” Harry asked, breaking Ron out of his own thoughts. “Hello…?”

“You have some nerve, Potter!” Ron said, rounding on his best friend. “Are you bloody blind? Hermione’s not just some girl you can mess about, Harry. She’s our friend…our best friend. And if you think you can just play with her feelings…”

“What on earth are you talking about?” Harry asked, truly confused.

“I thought you were going to use this weekend to tell her how you felt,” Ron continued. “Said that you loved her and wanted to finally make things happen with her. Well, I guess your usual lines didn’t work on her, did they? And do you want to know why, Harry? Because Hermione is much too smart to fall for your crap…”

“Ron,” Harry tried to interrupt.

“No,” Ron said, shaking his head. “The truth hurts, doesn’t it?”

“Ron…”

“No, Harry,” Ron interjected. “I warned you…I don’t know much about fighting like a Muggle, of course, but I reckon I’ll do alright.”

He clenched his fists and Harry suppressed the urge to laugh.

“RON!”

The both turned to see Hermione standing in the doorway of the kitchen, wearing only one of Harry’s buttoned down shirts.

“Hermione?” Ron asked, staring at her.

Hermione realized that she wasn’t wearing very much, so she grabbed a tea towel and placed it over her legs, but it didn’t cover much.

“W-what are you doing here?” Ron asked her, looking from Hermione back to Harry.

“I live here,” Hermione answered hotly. “And I was asleep until I heard you yelling at the top of your lungs. What are you carrying on about?”

Ron looked at her as if the answer should have been obvious. “I was defending your honour!”

“I didn’t know it was in peril,” Hermione said, looking at Harry for some sort of explanation. He didn’t know what was going on anymore than she did, though.

Ron again looked between Harry and Hermione.

“Okay, someone needs to tell me what is going on,” Ron said, folding his arms.

“What are you talking about?” Hermione asked as Harry walked over to her and put his arm around her. She relaxed into him embrace and they both looked at a very confused Ron.

“So does this mean that you’re…I mean that you’re with her…and he’s with you…?” Ron managed to choke out.

“Merlin, I sure hope so,” Hermione said with a laugh. “Are you okay with that?”

“Am I okay with that?” Ron repeated her question. He looked thoughtfully at his two best friends and the serious expression on his face was transformed into a bright, wide smile.

“I only have one thing to say to the two of you,” Ron said, grinning at them. “It’s about bloody time!”

He weaseled his way in between them and put an arm around each of them.

“This is fantastic,” Ron said enthusiastically. “I always knew it would happen for the two of you. See, the two of you never listen to me. If you had, you would have been together ages ago.”

“Ron’s right,” Hermione said, stepping out of Ron’s hold on her. She loved her friend and she was very happy that he accepted their relationship, but at the moment, she just wanted to be alone with Harry. She gave her boyfriend a look and hoped he caught on to her meaning. With a slight nod, he too stepped away from Ron and pulled Hermione to him.

“So, Ron,” Harry said, looking at Hermione. “You wouldn’t have any objection to us kissing…”

The smile on Ron’s face faded. “No,” he said weakly. He was all for their relationship, but he didn’t want to see it up close and personal like this.

Harry kissed Hermione and she snaked her arms around his neck.

Ron averted his eyes. “This is a kitchen, you do realize that, don’t you?” he asked uncomfortably.

Harry and Hermione didn’t pay him any mind as they continued to kiss, enjoying both the act itself and making their best friend squirm.

“Okay, okay,” Ron said. “If you wanted me to leave, all you had to do was ask…”

“Bye Ron,” Harry said, nuzzling Hermione’s neck.

“Don’t forget the two of you are coming by for dinner tonight,” Ron said, not bothering to turn around as he walked toward the front door.

“Poor Ron,” Hermione said when they pulled away from each other when they heard the front door shut behind him.

“Hey,” Harry said, reaching for her arm.

“Harry,” Hermione said trying to be firm. “We’ve slept in nearly the entire day and I need to go by my parents’ house and see how the wedding went and apologize.”

“Okay,” Harry said reluctantly. “You want me to come with?”

Hermione shook her head. “I’ll be alright on my own. I know you need to check back in at headquarters.”

“Yeah,” Harry said, resting his forehead on hers. “But that’s not for at least another hour or so…”

“And my parents might not even be up yet,” Hermione said with a teasing smile. “So, we could always do something else until it was time to leave…”

“What did you have in mind?” Harry asked, tucking a strand of her hair behind her ear.

“I’ll race you upstairs,” she said mischievously. Taking his hand, she said, “On the count of three….one, two…”

She took off before Harry knew what was happening and he stared after her retreating figure with his mouth agape.

“Hermione!” he called after her. “That’s not fair!”

With a mischievous grin of his own, he took off after her. He could certainly get quite used to this relationship stuff.

********* ****** ********

******* ************ *********

Later that afternoon, Hermione arrived at her parents’ house. Her mother answered the door.

“Sweetheart,” Karen said, giving her daughter a kiss on the cheek and a hug.

”Hi, Mum,” Hermione said with a smile. “I really am sorry about walking out of the wedding like that.”

Karen laughed. “Don’t lie to your mother, Hermione Jane. I know when you’re lying. You’re not sorry that you left the wedding.”

Hermione gave a slight smile. “No, I needed to go, but I am sorry for letting you and Dad down, not to mention Aunt Catherine and Uncle Malcolm.”

Karen nodded. “Don’t worry about it another second, dear. They certainly understood…after…”

Hermione pulled a confused face at her mother. “After what?”

Karen ushered her daughter inside. A few minutes later, she and Hermione were sitting in the kitchen over two cups of tea. Karen explained that Robert was out playing golf.

“Okay, Mum,” Hermione said, cupping her hands around her teacup. “I’m dying of suspense here. What happened after Harry and I left?”

Karen shook her head. “It was the most bizarre thing, Hermione. The wedding was delayed for about 15 minutes after I went back and told Catherine that you’d left. Well, Rachel was going on and on about how hideous you were to her and how she couldn’t believe her own cousin would desert her on her wedding day.”

Hermione rolled her eyes.

“But, I wouldn’t hear of it,” Karen said proudly. “I stuck up for you, Hermione. I told Rachel that obviously something happened that made you need to leave and I supported you no matter what it was.”

”I imagine that went over really well,” Hermione said.

Karen shuddered. “Worse, actually. I heard for another five minutes about how I wasn’t being supportive of my niece. If it wasn’t for Catherine and Malcolm, I would have followed you and Harry home myself.”

Hermione couldn’t believe it. Her mother finally saw what a complete and utter cow Rachel was.

“Anyway, once the drama from your exit subsided, we were ready to begin the ceremony,” Karen continued. “It really was a beautiful ceremony until…”

Hermione fidgeted in her seat. “Mum! Out with it already!”

“Well, Rachel walked down the aisle and Malcolm finished giving her away and she and Theo were standing in front of the vicar when this man busts into the chapel…”

“Who was it?” Hermione asked intrigued.

”The gardener apparently,” Karen answered. “I guess for sometime Rachel has been carrying on with this man. He comes screaming into the chapel that he can’t allow this sham of a ceremony to take place when it was obvious that Rachel didn’t love Theo. Well, as you can imagine, Rachel tried to play it off at first and say that she had no idea what he was talking about.”

“Oh my God,” Hermione whispered, leaning back in her chair.

Karen nodded. “It gets better…or worse…depending on your perspective. Theo and this man had this terrible row. It escalated quickly and before anyone knew what was going on, they were fighting each other like mad. The vicar tried to hold back Theo, but the gardener ended up hitting the vicar by mistake. Needless to say, there was no marriage. Theo left the chapel with one of the bridesmaids and Rachel was left screaming her head off about how her wedding was ruined.”

Hermione couldn’t believe all that had happened after she’d left. A part of her wishes she had stayed behind to have witnessed it all. But then again, if she had, she and Harry wouldn’t have had that fantastic night last night. As she visually pictured the events her mother described, Hermione started to laugh. Karen joined in and it wasn’t too long before they were both in tears from laughing so hard.

“I am sorry for not taking your side more when it came to Rachel,” Karen said apologetically when their laughter had died down. “Rachel sure had us all fooled.”

“It doesn’t matter now,” Hermione said, a smile coming over her face.

“I know that look,” Karen said. “You’re in love, aren’t you?”

Hermione blushed. “Very much so.”

“I knew it was only a matter of time,” Karen said. “I knew sooner or later one of you would wise up…”

“Everyone seems to have known before we did,” Hermione interjected. “Ron, you and Daddy, even when we were in school….people just knew…I’ve asked myself why we didn’t.”

“And what do you tell yourself?” Karen asked.

Hermione looked thoughtful. “I think we were both afraid. Not just of what being in a relationship would do to our friendship, but because of what it would really mean. We’ve both fought it for so long and been so stupid. But, I don’t honestly believe we were ready until now.”

“I agree,” Karen said, patting her daughter’s hand. “Your father and I have always liked Harry. We consider him a part of our family. I hope he knows that.”

“He does,” Hermione said beaming at her mother.

“Good,” Karen said. “Bring him by the house more then. I need to get to know my future son-in-law better after all.”

Hermione froze. “Son-in-law? We just started dating, Mum. Don’t tell me you’re already planning the ceremony and picking out china patterns…”

Karen grinned. “Hermione, trust me on this one. Your mother knows what she’s talking about. “

********** ********* **********

Katie Weasley sat on a blanket in the middle of the sitting room looking at her father as if he’d just lost his mind.

“Say ‘dada’, Katie,” Ron said, pulling a funny face at his daughter. “You can do it…dada.”

From her perch on the sofa, Luna couldn’t help but laugh. Ron was determined to get his daughter to say “Daddy” or some version of it or die trying. Luna had told him, of course, that he was being a little too dramatic, but he’d been resolute in his statement. His daughter’s first word was going to be “Daddy”.

Katie clapped her hands together and giggled, but didn’t say anything.

“Ron…” Luna began, hoping to say something to comfort her husband, but he waved his hand at her.

“You get to be with her all day and are probably saying ‘Mama’ to her a thousand times a day because you want that to be her first word,” Ron said. “I don’t want much in this world but to have my little girl say my name. Is that so wrong?”

“No,” Luna answered. “But what would be so bad about her saying ‘Mama’ first? I mean, to be completely fair, I was the one who gave birth to her. I was the one in pain for 36 hours. I think to be completely fair she should say my name first.”

Ron snorted. “You know you seem to tack on an extra hour to that labour every single time you tell people about it.”

He bent down and kissed his daughter on the forehead. “Don’t listen to mummy, Katie. She doesn’t know what she’s talking about. Say ‘Dada’.”

Katie looked up from her blocks and mumbled something.

“There!” Ron said excitedly. “She said it!”

Luna rolled her eyes. “She did not! She said ‘durfflurf’.”

“It starts with a ‘D’,” Ron said defensively. “It’s close enough!”

“Yeah, alright…durfflurf,” Luna said with a sly smile. “How you managed to get ‘dada’ out of that, I’ll never know.”

“Well, it might not be it exactly, but she’s getting there,” Ron said making a funny face at his daughter, who again clapped her hands excitedly.

“Uh-huh,” Luna said, returning to her book.

“She is,” Ron said as the doorbell chimed. “You’re as bad as Fred and George sometimes, Luna.”

This time it was Luna who chortled as her husband got to his feet. “Yeah, well let’s not even talk about the words they were trying to teach her.”

“Point taken,” Ron said, walking toward the front door.

Ron opened the door and saw Harry standing on the doorstep with a bottle of wine in his hand.

“Where’s your girlfriend?” Ron asked, in a sing-song voice.

“She’ll be here shortly,” Harry said, smirking at his friend. “She went to her parents’ house and said she’d meet me here.”

“Come on in, Romeo,” Ron said ushering his friend inside.

Fifteen minutes later, the three of them plus Katie were sitting in the kitchen, waiting for Hermione to arrive. Luna was getting the details of their weekend.

“This Rachel person sounds dreadful,” Luna said. “Reminds me of a group of girls from Hogwarts who used to tease me all the time.”

“Trust me, Luna,” Harry said, taking Katie from Ron. “I’m not doing her justice.”

“I’m glad Hermione told her off,” Luna said, grinning as Katie smiled at Harry.

“Don’t tell her I told you about that,” Harry said seriously. “She wanted to tell you that detail herself. She’s quite proud of it actually.”

The doorbell chimed and Harry grinned.

“The love of your life has arrived,” Ron teased. “Don’t get up. I’ll go and let her in.”

Luna winked at Harry as Ron left the room.

“We’re both really happy for you,” Luna said to Harry in a soft voice. “We always knew this would happen, you know.”

“Everyone keeps telling us that,” Harry said, laughing as Katie tugged at his collar with her small hands.

Hermione followed Ron into the kitchen and she stopped in the doorway at the sight of her boyfriend holding Katie. The picture of it was so adorable it nearly took her breath away. This could be the two of them someday. Yes, it was still early days yet, but she could definitely picture herself and Harry with their own little family. Without a doubt, she knew for certain that he was it for her. She couldn’t foresee herself loving someone else after knowing what it felt like to love him and be loved by him.

“Hermione…” Harry said, coming over to her and kissing her on the forehead. “Everything alright?”

She nodded happily. “I’m sorry I was a little late...”

“It’s okay,” he said smiling down at her. “I’ve been waiting for you.”