Hope Floats

The whole of the town was seated in the small round tables set up about the dance floor of this Impressive establishment. A few of the younger people were dancing to the musical stylings of some random muggle-born group that Lavender took upon herself to manage.

Hermione sat there in her little black dress, nursing her drink faithfully. Ginny sat across from her at the small table speaking the non-sense that people speak to fill up awkward silences.

"Hermione, are you listening to me?" Ginny asked exasperatedly.

"Uh, oh, yes!! Yes, I'm listening," Hermione said as her head snapped back towards her red-headed friend.

"Right, I'm so sure," Ginny said sardonically as she stirred the contents of her glass.

"Oh, Adonis!" Ginny said as she waved to one of the teenage boys that lived in the town.

"Well, hello there Miss Weasley. Did you want to dance with me?" He asked with a coy smile.

"Me, no son! You must've been imagining things, you should dance with someone your own age!" Ginny said with a wave of her hand.

"Oh, alright then," He said as he started to turn away.

"Well, if you insist..."Ginny said as she smiled evilly at Hermione.

Hermione snickered at her friend for her audacious pass at a much younger man. She sat there for a while when all of the sudden she saw Lavender Brown coming towards her.

"Well, well, Hermione! Look at you! You just look fabulous, I bet you this is how you're going to get old Weasley back, eh?" Lavender insisted.

"Um, no not really... I'm just out with Ginny," Hermione explained.

"Goodness have you seen Hannah Abbott? She gained like 50 lbs since I saw her last - nasty really. Oh would you look at that? Harry's coming over here. I heard that he went to auror training and completed it but wasn't accepted as a ministry employee! So now he does handy work. What a shame - the boy who lived!!" Lavender said up until the moment that Harry was within ear shot.

Hermione couldn't help but smile as she saw him coming for her. He smiled back at her, that wicked, shy smile that made her knees weak with anticipation.

"May I have this dance?" He whispered breathily into her ear.

"I don't know Harry, I haven't danced in years. Not since my wedding reception," she admitted.

"Oh come on now, dancing is just a conversation between two people. Talk to me," He said as he held his hand out to her.

She took his hand with a slight blush to her cheeks. Harry whirled her out to the dance floor and stopped right in the middle of it.

"Alright now, you ready?" He whispered in her ear.

She nodded shyly at him as she bit her bottom lip. Harry gave her a confident smile and off they went.

Harry held her close more often than not, despite the quick pace of the music. They twisted, gyrated, and glided all around the dance floor. Harry spun her into him one last time before the song ended. He held her tightly to him when the next song started.

Hermione made to leave the comfort of his embrace, but he stopped her with a slight tug at her arm. He wrapped her up in his arms again and leaned his head towards her shoulder.

"Stay," was all he said, and that she did.

Harry held her as close as he could, and she him. They hugged each other as tightly as they could and swayed to the music, never once letting go or separating. She rested her head on his chest as he planted small kisses in her hair.

For once, everything went away. All the sorrow, all the loneliness, all the depression. All she knew in that moment was him and what she was feeling. Nothing in her entire existence matched this moment. The birth of her daughter was by far the most important, but this was by far the most romantic thing she'd ever experienced. Ron had never held her like this, never in such an innocent embrace. She felt more loved at this moment than in her ten years of marriage.

At that moment she looked up into Harry's eyes, and they communicated without speaking.

"I want to show you something," he told her when the song finished.

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"Your house is beautiful Harry," Hermione said as she sat down on the porch swing that Harry had yet to hang.

"Thank you," He replied.

"Who designed it?" She asked with interest. Maybe this architect could build her a house too.

"You're looking at him," Harry said with a shy smile.

"No way, you? This is so beautiful, Harry!" Hermione said happily.

"Yes way, I designed it, and I'm building it," he replied.

"Why do you go around fixing people's porches when you can build houses?" she asked in mild curiosity.

"Because, I love this too much. I don't want to ruin my hobby by making it a profession, not when I have other ways of making money," He said mischievously at her.

"Alright then, one more question," she said with a mysterious smile at him, "Why such a large house?"

"I figured you would have guessed the answer to such a question on your own," he said with a flushed tinge to his cheeks.

"I plan on having a family someday," he said as he sat down on the bench next to her, "Someday soon,"

He looked at her meaningfully. She looked back at him and shifted uncomfortably. He leaned into her and kissed her cheek, then made his way to the corner of her mouth. Hermione shifted quickly away from him, and he grabbed her arm.

"Hermione, please --" he said in a strangled tone.

He fought to keep his composure and he leaned his forehead against hers.

"Stay," he said, a hint of pleading in his voice.

She looked into his sad green eyes and let him kiss her. He started off gentle, spreading kisses all over her face and neck. She reciprocated, reluctantly, at first. When she couldn't resist any longer, the guilt and fear in her stomach gave way to longing. She pressed her lips to his and kissed him for all she was worth.

The tables turned and Hermione became the aggressive one. She slipped his crisp white button down shirt off his shoulders, her finger nails gently scraping his skin on the way. He trembled in her grasp and moved his lips to her neck where he felt her pulse pounding rapidly beneath his lips. She sighed as he kissed his way down her neck. Hermione loved the way his bare torso looked in the moonlight, all guilt and insecurity presently gone from her mind. She reached for the belt of his pants but he stilled her with his right hand. He brought her hand up to his lips and kissed her knuckles reverently. He gave her a look that pleaded her to trust him. She gave him a slight nod of assurance and he ran his hands up her arms to where her shoulders met her neck. He fumbled with the button holding up the halter top to her dress for a moment before successfully pulling it away from her neck.

Before going any further, he ran his hands up to her face and cupped it. He looked her straight in the eyes and took a deep breath as if to fortify himself for what he was going to say next.

"I love you," he admitted, his resolve crumbling.

Too afraid to answer, she looked at him for a moment, her eyes unsure, before she kissed him fiercely, her tongue lightly pushing it's way passed his lips.

She couldn't handle this extreme flow of emotion just now, she couldn't take his admission of love. Her emotions, her fear of men, her guilt at not having her divorce finalized weren't enough to keep her from him. Her mind was so overloaded with emotion that she just couldn't battle it right now. She took all her anxiety, depression, fear, insecurity, and guilt and just poured it all into him. She went at Harry with more fervor than she had ever had with Ron.

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Hermione woke up the next day in confusion. She groaned and stretched and cuddled up to a warmth she felt to her right. She dragged her left hand up over what she thought was a pillow, but was soon not-so-pleasantly reminded of what the bare chest of a man felt like. Her eyes opened in shock, and she woke up to find that she was on a completely naked Harry and was wearing his white button-down shirt.

She freaked out and faced the emotions that she so adamantly blocked last night. She gingerly removed her limbs from Harry's and slipped back into her dress. She put the shirt over his manhood to protect his dignity should anyone decide to pass by ( though highly unlikely as Harry was building his house in a secluded area).

She slowly slipped away from him, and once out of hearing distance, ran as if her life depended on it. She reached Ginny's house and slipped into the back door as quietly as possible. She snuck into the upstairs bathroom to clean herself up. She put her long, wild, brown hair into a knot so that she could wash last night's make up off her face. She soaked a cloth with hot water and sighed into it as she rested her face in her hands. She trembled and sat on the toilet lid when the dull ache between her legs was too much for her to bear. Flashes of what went on last night went through her mind and she shook, from pleasure and from resentment.

Hermione had to face it now, she was scared to death. Last night was the most memorable, but the scariest night of her life. All these feelings were creating havoc inside of her and she was drowning in a sea of uncertainty and self doubt.

All she knew was this: May Ginny never find out about this.