Let Me Love You

Disclaimer: This story is based on characters and situations created and owned by JK Rowling, various publishers including but not limited to Bloomsbury Books, Scholastic Books and Raincoast Books, and Warner Bros., Inc. No money is being made and no copyright or trademark infringement is intended. The song is, of course, not mine either.

Summary: "Someday I will have somebody to lie in bed with, somebody to hold and kiss and touch. But the thing is, I don't just want any somebody. I want her. Her. My best friend, the person I go to for advice, for a solution to all my problems. But this is one problem she can't help me find the solution to because she is the solution."

Author's Note: Here's another song ficlet by me. It was only supposed to be a one chapter deal but, of course, was lengthened. It will only be a couple of chapters though ... no more than ... three, let's say. The song is "Let Me Love You" by Tim McGraw. I don't even listen to Country but the lyrics sparked inspiration. Hope you all enjoy!

Dedication: To Jen for helping me out when I was stuck and for always reviewing! Thanks!

:: Twisted Anjel ::

Let Me Love You -- Part 1

Sometimes I close my eyes

And imagine you with me

Chasing passion into the night

All tangled in a dream.

Sometimes I wonder if there's something wrong with me. I see couples everywhere, holding hands and kissing passionately, gazing at each other like there will be no tomorrow. It seems like everybody has somebody and all I have is a dream to comfort my loneliness; a small flicker of hope that someday I will have somebody to lie in bed with and somebody to hold and kiss and touch.

But the thing is, I don't just want any somebody.

I want her.

Her. The woman who has been in my life for fifteen years; since we were eleven years old. My best friend, the person I go to for advice, for a solution to all my problems. But this is one problem she can't help me find the solution to because she is the solution.

I watch her go out with all these wizards who only want her for her body not her mind, not her personality. They only see her beauty; they don't bother to look deeper. They don't take the time to get to know her. I know her. Inside and out. They don't really love her like they say they do; I do.

When I let myself think about it, I realize that Hermione and I have this problem with dating in common. I'm the Boy-Who-Lived, Witch Weekly's Hottest Bachelor, not a human being who longs to be loved for who I am inside and not for what I did to the darkest wizard of all time or for what I look like.

Hermione is known as Harry Potter's Genius Friend. The one who found a cure for a deadly disease, the one who is so smart that she now has millions of money and formed an organization that travel around the world helping people who are sick and too poor to do anything about it. The one who is so beautiful yet so humble. She's Witch Weekly's Hottest Bachelorette, not another human being who wants to be loved by someone who will accept her for everything she is, not for saving the world one step at a time while looking good.

I'm still amazed how she manages to keep all her relationships a secret and have time to even have a relationship at all. She keeps her private life just that: private. The media would eat their own heads to get even a word about Dr. Granger's love life.

Me, well, they find out everything about 'Auror Harry Potter.' There is nothing, well, almost nothing, that I can hide from those people. The only things I can hide are my feelings for my best friend. No one knows.

I want to tell her. I want to lift the weight I've held for so long off my shoulders. I've tried, but something or someone always interrupted. I'm considering doing it now, while it's only us two in the flat we share with Ron, but she's getting ready to go out on a date with Matthew, her latest boyfriend.

He's not much of a boyfriend, always canceling on their dates the last minute. Hermione's patient though, she's also very understanding. She understands that he's busy but what is she? She's busy too but she leaves room to spend time with people she cares about. Hermione gives so much to the world and they don't give anything back. She doesn't mind though.

Well, I guess I'll go see if she's ready. I walk out of my room and head down the hall, where her door is slightly ajar. I knock lightly. "Are you decent?" I call through the door.

I hear Hermione laugh. "Come in, Harry," she calls back.

I push open the door and step inside her large room. It's decorated in a very Hermione-like manner. A bookshelf lined with volumes and volumes of books is against one wall. I smile at the thought and sit on the edge of her bed.

She's standing in front of the mirror, fixing her hair. She turns around to face me and I have to catch my breath. I'm ready to jump up and hunt Matthew down for not realizing what he has. She looks so beautiful I have to swallow the lump in my throat.

"Do I look okay?" she asks me self-consciously, mistaking the look on my face. Hermione doesn't put much stock on her looks and never has. She's one of those woman who are beautiful and don't realize it.

I look her up and down and cock my head to the side. The long, sleeveless, black dress she's wearing hugs her in all the right places. The black strappy sandals make her long legs look longer and slender. She's wearing small diamond earrings and no other jewelry. Her hair is down, soft curls are framing her face like a halo, and her eyes are shining.

"Harry?"

I snap out of my reverie and smile up at her. "You look beautiful," I tell her honestly. "Matthew is a prat if he doesn't know what he has."

She gives me a glowing smile and I feel my stomach doing a dance. "Thanks, Harry," she says and kisses me on the cheek. "I better go. Matt wants me to meet him at our restaurant at seven."

I nod and follow her outside. "Take a coat and umbrella. It's pouring outside," I call as she heads out the door.

She turns and smiles at me before disappearing behind the closed door.

::::::::

Oh, if you could see my heart

The way I feel inside

You would know just how far

I'm willing to go to get to you

There is nothing I won't do.

I had just finished taking a shower and was about to grab a book to read when our telephone rang. Despite Ron's insistence that we don't need a 'pheltone' Hermione insisted she needed it in case her clients needed to get a hold of her at home.

I jog downstairs and pick up on the last ring. "Hello?"

"Harry? Is that you?" a male voice asks.

"Yes, who is this?"

"Matthew. Is Hermione there?"

Matthew? He's supposed to be out with Hermione right now. I glance down at my watch which reads 8:30. "Matthew?" I repeat.

"Yes, is Hermione there?" he sounds annoyed, as if he's talking to a child who doesn't quite understand who he's asking for.

"Why would she be, Matthew? You're supposed to be with her at the restaurant. She left an hour and a half ago." I bite back words that I want to hit him with for standing her up -- again.

"Oh no," he groans. "I should have called earlier to tell her that I couldn't make it. The team had an impromptu practice and I'm still at the Quidditch pitch."

Why is he telling me? I don't care for any of his excuses; especially since they wouldn't be playing in weather like this. You shouldn't be on a broom with lightning striking through the air; his coach isn't stupid.

When I don't answer, he continues. "I know I always ask you this, Harry, but is there anyway you could contact her and tell her for me? I don't remember her mobile number and I can't get out of practice."

I don't bother to tell him that he should be able to remember her number and that his excuse this time isn't efficient; but then again, none of his excuses ever are. "Sure."

"Thanks so much, Harry. I owe you."

"Yes, you do," I reply coldly then hang up without a good-bye. I sit glaring at the telephone, blood boiling in my veins. "Bastard!" I shout out in the empty room.

I grab my coat, don't bother with an umbrella, and hurry out the door. I can't Apparate because the restaurant is in a Muggle neighborhood. Damn. I run out to my car and speed out of the driveway. Matthew might not be there for her, but I will always be.

I turn up the radio as loud as I can stand it, letting the song pound in my head and push away the anger. I have a bad feeling that Matthew is cheating on Hermione. All these excuses, all the cancellations. It all fits and this revelation makes my anger bubble to the surface all over again.

Is the man stupid? Is he blind, deaf, dumb? Well, he's not in love and that's a fact. How can he tell Hermione he loves her and then go with another woman?

I'm still seething as I swerve into the parking lot. I glance around but don't see Hermione's car anywhere. I get out and jog inside.

"May I help you?" The man at the counter asks as he looks at me disdainfully.

"Is a Dr. Hermione Granger here?" I ask in a rush, not caring that I'm standing in one of the most expensive restaurants in all London in jeans and an old shirt, dripping water all over the tile.

"I'm very sorry, sir, but I cannot tell -" he begins, raising his nose in the air and glaring at me. I reach up a hand to my forehead nonchalantly and brush away the hair that's covering my infamous scar. I see the man's eyes travel up to my forehead and he suddenly pales.

"M - M- Mr. Potter! I'm so sorry, sir!" he stammers, not looking so high and mighty any more. "Miss Granger left about thirty-five minutes ago. She seemed to be crying," he tells me.

"Thank you," I say and walk away. I hadn't expected Hermione to be here anyway. I know where she could be however and with that I run back to my car and speed away.

There is a large park by our house that Hermione likes to go to when she's upset or just needs to think. It's not an actual park with a playground and all; it's just a big acre of small, grassy, rolling hills with tall trees that cover the ground with leaves. There are benches scattered about where you can sit and relax. It's very serene and calm; Hermione's favorite spot.

When I reach it, the rain seems to pound down harder and I curse at myself for not bringing an umbrella. I park next to her car and run towards the bench that I hope she's at, ignoring the fact that my clothes are soaked through and that the shower I took earlier had been a waste.

I see a lone figure and squint to be able to see through the drops of rain. I run closer and see Hermione sitting there without an umbrella also, seemingly lost in thought. I walk up to her and sit down, gently touching her hand so she would notice me.

She turns towards me and my heart seems to break in the instant our eyes meet. Her dress is soaked through and her curls have straightened out, sticking to her face. To any other wizard, she would look a mess but to me, she has never looked more beautiful. I can't explain it.

"Hey Harry," she says loudly enough for me to hear her above the rain. She tries to smile but fails and her eyes suddenly pool over with tears.

I lean forward and pull her into my arms, placing my cheek on the top of her head when she buries her face in between my neck and shoulder. Her body is suddenly racking with sobs and I do the best I can to comfort her, whispering soothing words in her ear. When her sobs turn into hiccups, she slowly slips away and looks at me.

"Sorry," she says, before turning away, ashamed.

I shake my head and stand up. "Let's go home, 'Mione." I reach out my hand to her and she takes it, much to my relief. We walk back to the car in a huddle. "Can you get home okay? Or do you want to come with me and I'll just come by and pick up your car later?" I ask, not sure if it's safe for her to drive in the condition she's in.

"I can, don't worry. "She turns to walk away but then stops. She turns back around and runs back into my arms, hugging me tightly.

"Thank you for always being there for me," she whispers then walks away before I can answer.

I watch her get into her car and only turn away when she looks at me and smiles. I whisper, "Your welcome," but the wind carries my words and slams them back in my face.

::::::

Oh, if you could read my mind

You'd know you're everything I need

You'd see yourself through my eyes

You may understand what I'm going through

And just how much I want you.

"How about we change into dry clothes and then I'll make us hot chocolate, start the fire, and we can warm up and talk?" I ask, as we enter the house. I notice Hermione is shivering and as much as I want to gather her in my arms and warm her up, I'm just as wet and cold as she is.

She gives me a small smile and nods. "Sounds like a good idea."

We head into our separate rooms and I reemerge a minute later in dry clothes. I point my wand at the fireplace and mutter "Incendio," and then set a blanket and pillows on the floor in front of the now blazing fire.

I enter the kitchen to find Hermione already there and making the hot chocolate. She smiles up at me and I notice her hands are shaking slightly. "Let me take care of that. You've had too much going on tonight," I tell her, gently taking the cups from her hands. She nods and watches quietly as I mutter a heating spell and levitate the two cups in the air. Heading into the living room, we sit down on the floor and get comfortable.

Silence between me and Hermione have always been the comfortable type, where we just sit and enjoy each other's company. Now, I don't know what to say or how to begin. I glance at her from the corner of my eye and I suddenly feel my heart aching.

She has never told either me or Ron about the boyfriends who use her and leave, she's never told us her feelings, but now, as she's hanging her head and staring sadly at the steam swirling up from the cup, I know how she feels and I'm not even looking directly into her eyes.

"Hermione?" I say softly, still unsure of how to begin.

"Do you think I'm stupid?" she asks suddenly, looking up at me with a gaze I've never seen before.

"Stupid? You? Those are two words that should never be placed in the same sentence. Do you even have to ask?"

She lets out a bitter laugh. "No, Harry, not in intelligence, in love. I guess you can't have the brains and looks, love and happiness," she says, finally looking away. "Sometimes I wonder if there's something wrong with me."

My own words are repeated back to me and she doesn't even know it. Hermione is intelligent, she surpasses so many people in that level yet she can't figure out why she can't find someone who will treat her the way she wants to be treated. Sometimes, we don't see what's right under our noses. Hermione might be smart but she hasn't even figured out that I have always been here. Or maybe she knows but doesn't want to act on anything.

"How can you say that?" I ask her.

"Oh please, Harry. Look at me, will you?" She looks up angrily though I know that anger isn't directed at me.

I want to laugh at her answer. She doesn't realize I have been looking at her. "I don't see anything wrong."

She lets out a sigh of frustration and runs a hand roughly through her hair, golden curls spilling down her back. I want to reach out and touch the soft mass so badly it hurts. I have to literally sit on my hands in order not to do so.

"Why can't I find that one man who will make everything clear for me? Who will show me that there is more to life than work and it is possible to have everything?"

I bite my tongue to keep from shouting out that I'm right here and just stare quietly at the fire.

"I guess you wouldn't understand," she continues, a small smile curving her lips. "Having girls throw themselves at you doesn't necessarily give you self-esteem problems."

This last statement is not something I can keep quiet to. I laugh harshly, turning my head to look her full in the face. "Why do you think girls want to be with me, Hermione?" I ask her, a bit angry that she hasn't figured out that I'm lonely too.

She seems a bit shocked at my question but answers anyway. "I guess they would say because you defeated Voldemort and, of course, because you're drop-dead gorgeous and have an amazing body."

I choke on the last two words she used to describe me but she continues before I can interrupt at the most shallow excuses I have ever heard.

"But that's what they would say. Those millions of girls out there who dream about you rescuing them on a shiny broom and sweeping them off their feet. But if someone were to come up to me, and I'm not talking about a cheesy reporter, and ask me how I would describe the famous Harry Potter for all his adoring fans do you know what I would say?"

I shake my head, not sure where this was leading to.

"'There isn't enough time in one day to describe Harry Potter to you.' That's what I would say because though everyone expects to hear how brave, courageous, and handsome you are, I would tell them how smart and kind you are. How fiercely loyal you are to your friends and family and how you would do anything for them, drop anything you were doing to be there when they needed you most. I would tell them that you're just human and that behind this macho bravado is a shy, normal, great twenty-five year old guy who only wants to be loved for who he is and not for what he's done. A guy who deserves to be loved for who he is because he's perfect in every way."

"Hermione ..." I try to interrupt, fidgeting uncomfortably. Who am I to be complimented so highly on?

"No, Harry, let me finish. You need to hear this because I know how you're feeling and you shouldn't be feeling this way. Yes, you have flaws, everyone does. But these flaws come from being the person you are. You think with your heart than with your head and though that may lead you in a wrong direction at times, that doesn't make you an awful person. It makes you better than all those fake men who say words they don't mean just to get a girl in bed. You only say what you feel and you only have the woman's best interest at heart. Why shouldn't you be loved for all that?"

I stare at her, wide-eyed. So Hermione knows me more than I thought she did. But I'm not the important thing here, Hermione is. "Why shouldn't you be loved for you?" I ask back.

"Maybe there isn't much to love," she responds. Though this may sound like it's coming from someone who has the confidence of a pea, that isn't the case. Hermione has plenty of confidence when she wants to and when the situation calls for it. But like any ordinary individual, she has moments when that confidence wavers and she has to be lifted from her self-doubt.

"Are you kidding? Do you want me to list all of your qualities?" I ask, but plunge on before she can answer. "You're a genius; you're courageous, compassionate, kind, loyal, generous, beautiful ..."

"Please, Harry. Maybe it's time to buy new glasses," she says this like a person who actually does believe she's nothing special, not like some other women who insult themselves just to get compliments from others.

"Hermione, I think you're the one who needs glasses, not me. How can you not realize how beautiful you are? Not only do you look beautiful but you are beautiful from the inside. Your confidence draws people to you and then they love you for everything you are."

She rolls her eyes. "Please."

This Hermione is beginning to annoy me; she sounds like she's twelve years old, not twenty-five. Before I can think about it, I grasp her shoulders and shake her lightly. "Will you stop! Why can't you see what I see, Hermione? Just because you always seem to go for the men who don't care for you when you have one right under your nose, that doesn't make you a horrible person!"

Oops. Right after my short outburst, I realize what I've just said and hope she didn't catch it.

"What?" she asks softly, her eyes moving across my face to try and find some sort of honest explanation that could solve all of this.

I stare at her, unable to unstick the words my throat. "W-well ...." I begin, trying frantically to cover up the secret I let slip. "I just meant that you're my best friend and I care for you more than all those men put together. I love you, of course, because you're my best friend," I say lamely.

She stares at me for a few seconds, apparently trying to decide whether to believe me and just let it go or to pursue the matter some more. "Right, of course you do," she finally says dejectedly.

I drop my hands from her shoulders, perplexed. Why does she seem more depressed now than she did a minute ago? Are those tears in her eyes?

"Hermione -"

"Look, I should go to bed. Representatives from an organization I've been trying to get to donate clothing for children in Africa are coming to inspect us tomorrow. I want to look presentable."

"But Hermione -"

"Good night, Harry. And thanks for everything." She says it softly but something is wrong and before I can comment on my misgivings, she's already closing the door to her room.

Sighing, I stand up, levitate the cups to the kitchen and pick up the pillows and blanket from the floor. As I'm about to distinguish the fire, the door opens and in comes Ron.

He shuts it softly behind him and begins to tiptoe toward his room as if he's missed his curfew by several hours and he doesn't want to wake up his mother.

I clear my throat and place my hands on my hips, imitating Mrs. Weasley. "Where have you been, young man?" I scold, making my voice high and firm.

Ron spins around, startled at the voice. When he sees it's just me, he relaxes and grins. "You nearly killed me, mate."

I snort. "You're lucky I wasn't your mum or else you'd be dead. Where were you?"

Ron scratches the back of his head and his cheeks turn slightly red. "Well, um, I was at Anna's. We were talking and I lost track of time ..." he lets the sentence drift, his ears now a bright red.

I grin, knowing full well they were doing more than just talking. I laugh at the guilty look on his face, as if he was with some unknown girl. Anna is his fiancée, who he's dated for almost five years now. I still have a hard time believing Ron is going to get married in a couple of months. Everyone believed he would be the last to marry out of the three of us.

"Uh huh ..." I reply. "And who exactly were you hiding from? You don't live with Mrs. Weasley anymore, mate," I say, laughing quietly.

"Yeah, well, you know Hermione. She's almost worst than mum! She'd give me a lecture a mile long if she found me sneaking in this late. What time is it anyway?"

My smile fades at the mention of Hermione, only because I know something was bothering her when she got up and left and it wasn't Matthew. "It's almost two in the morning," I answer. "Don't worry, Hermione probably wouldn't have even noticed if you came in while she was still awake," I add.

He cocks his head to the side. "Matthew?"

I nod, throwing the pillows I was holding throughout this conversation on the couch, wishing they could feel pain.

"What'd he do now?"

"Plans a date with Hermione and doesn't even show up, the bloody bastard ... if I could ..." I rant on, glad Hermione isn't awake to hear me swear like this. Then I would be the one getting a mile long lecture.

Ron shakes his head, but remains calm, unlike me. "How long is she going to let him do that?"

I shrug. "Don't know. If he continues it's not Hermione he'll have to worry about," I growl, cracking my knuckles.

He stares at me for a second then asks softly, "When are you going to tell her?"

I stop my ranting and look at him, suddenly all out of steam for my energy. I know what he means, of course, and I don't even have to ask how he knows my feelings for our best friend. Ron might not be so in tune at times but he notices things we don't want to see ourselves.

All I can do is shrug and look dejectedly away. "I almost let it leak when I was talking to her before but I covered it up. I don't think she suspects anything." Out of the corner of my eye I see his mouth open and cut in before any words can come out. "I know, I know ... I need to tell her and soon. I got it, okay? I will, but just not now."

He shakes his head again but doesn't bring up the subject. "I'm going to clean up then go to bed, you staying up?" he asks.

"Yeah, I'm just going to catch up on my reading for the two Death Eaters we caught last week and then I'm going to bed."

He nods. "Okay, then. Good night." With that he moves away, peeks his head in Hermione's room, apparently satisfied that she's sleeping soundly, and heads into his bedroom.

Hermione thinks we're overprotective of her, Ron and I, and if she knew that one of us always check in on her at night, she would roll hers and let out an exasperated sigh.

I turn to the fire, which I forgot about when Ron came in, and it sputters before burning out. The flat is plunged in darkness and as I stretch out on couch, I realize that this darkness is heavy with tension and things that are dying to get out in the open, things that need to be exposed to each of us, as corny as it might seem.

My eyes begin to get heavy and as they slowly close, I laugh bitterly to myself, finding it amazing that in fairy tales the hero always gets his princess.

Real life is nothing like a fairy tale.

Document created with wvWare/wvWare version 1.0.0

-->

Author's Note: Hey you guys! Here is the 2^nd part to this story and my favorite. I want to say thanks to all of you who took the time to read and review this story. They all meant so much to me! And to Anonymous, who didn't like it, you are entitled to your own opinion. Thanks for reading it through and reviewing anyway. I appreciate it!

Thanks again everyone!

Anjel

Let Me Love You - Part 2

Weeks went by and everything was the same in the world. Hermione had forgiven Matthew -- though I may never find out the reason behind it -- the next day when he had come over to apologize profusely. At least he had the heart to apologize face to face and not over the phone, the slimy git. Lucky for Hermione, I was at work and wasn't there to answer the door and then shut it in his face, making sure to hit him.

Our conversation was never mentioned, as if we had silently agreed to silence. I see her, though, give me these sad glances from time to time, mostly when she thinks I'm not paying attention. These looks puzzle me because it seems she wants to tell me something but doesn't know how I'll take it. I haven't questioned her about it; she'll tell me when she's ready.

Now here I am, in Hogsmead, trying to find a gift for Ron, whose birthday is only two days away. We are planning a surprise party, though he already knows about it; Ginny could never keep a secret. It had been Hermione's idea and with the help of Mrs. Weasley, they had made arrangements and everything was set. Everything but one.

I have to bring a date. Ron's words, not mine. His exact words were, "She'll see you with this gorgeous girl and get jealous. The next thing you know, she's screaming that she loves you."

I've never taken Ron's love advice to heart; ever. This time I figure what have I got to lose? The only problem is where am I going to find this so- called-gorgeous girl? Ron offered to introduce me to a few on his Quidditch team but I declined without hesitation. I've seen Ron's types and except for Anna, they were all Barbie Doll replicas to the way they looked and thought. I know you're thinking Barbie Dolls don't think -- exactly my point.

Spotting something glistening in the window I just passed, I back up and smile wide. Perfect. Though Ron is on one of the most famous Quidditch team, his coach is too cheap to get the team the newest and fasted model broom; the Moon Trimmer. Now it's glistening in the window and I know Ron would do anything to have this broom and though he has the money to buy one himself, he would feel guilty if he had it and the rest of his team didn't. Well, getting it as a gift is a different story (as he's hinted for months now) and besides, he's captain.

When I decided to go shopping today for Ron's gift, not only did I not expect to find the perfect gift but I also didn't expect to see something that would prove Matthew is cheating on Hermione. Well, I found both.

As I'm waiting for the owner of the store to reappear from the back, I hear a familiar yet hated male voice. I turn around slowly, only to find Matthew standing behind me with a witch hanging on his arm and his every word. And it isn't Hermione.

My blood begins to boil even before I realize it's Matthew and I have to control my fiery emotions before my anger gets the better of me. The woman is pretty, sure, but not beautiful like Hermione. She doesn't have that mind-boggling confidence that Hermione possesses and I'm sure she doesn't have the brain either.

She is a brunette, like Hermione, but her hair is straight and seems fried to the crisp (probably from all that dye or color or whatever it is girls stick in their hair to change the color) and doesn't look like it would shine in the sun like Hermione's hair does. She's short and wearing a too short skirt, with a top that looks about three sizes too small. This girl looks as if she tried to dress sexy this morning and failed miserably. Hermione is the classy type, who knows not to go too far.

While I'm comparing this unknown witch to my Hermione, she realizes I am looking at them and lets out a squeal that I'm sure burst my ear lobes.

"Aren't you Harry Potter?" she asks in a high-pitched, sickening sweet voice.

"No shit, Sherlock," Is what I want to say. I mean, hello, doesn't she think I'd know my own name? Instead, I paste a fake smile on and respond through clenched teeth. "Yes, I am. I didn't know you and Matthew were together. He's never mentioned you before." If I ever wanted to get revenge at him for what he did to Hermione I'm glad I waited, because the look on his face was well worth the wait.

"Oh, you two know each other?" she asks, looking back at Matthew with such adoration I want to puke. Thank God Hermione has never looked at him like that.

His dark eyes never leave my face. "Yes, we both know a mutual friend," he replies and I want to spit in his face. He seems to be pleading with me to keep quiet. If only he knew what was coming.

"Oh really? How nice!" she says and I wonder why she isn't asking who. Well, I'll save her the trouble and fill her in without her having to ask.

"We both know one of my best friends, Hermione Granger," I tell her, watching Matthew's reaction. His jaw is clamped tightly shut and I see out of the corner of my eyes that he has his hands balled into fists at his side, clenching and unclenching.

"Oh! Isn't she the witch who found some cure for some disease or other?" she asks, as if it's the easiest thing in the world.

Now my veins are threatening to pop from my neck as I try to control the anger not only towards Matthew but towards his little plaything also. How dare she act as if it weren't a great accomplishment! I bet the only great thing she's ever done was get her hair to its natural color; which would be a huge accomplishment in itself, I'm sure. I swallow harshly, making sure to keep my face expressionless. I continue, "Uh-huh, that's her. Did Matthew, here, tell you how good of friends they are?"

She shakes her head and looks up at him. He tries to smile down at her but I can tell he much rather punch me to a pulp right about now. Good.

"No, he's never mentioned her. How come you've never told me you had such famous friends, poopsy?"

I almost explode with laughter this time and it's much harder to keep a straight face. I cough into my hand to keep from bursting out in guffaws. "Yes, poopsy, how come you've never told her how good of friends you and Hermione were, or should I say still are?"

The witch looks at me, confused, than back at Matthew, who looks exactly like Uncle Vernon when I used to mention the word 'magic.' If I weren't so angry with him, I think I'd be enjoying this.

"They are so close in fact that -" I begin, ready to spell out the whole thing for this not-so-bright human being before Matthew cuts me off abruptly.

"You know, dear, you really shouldn't have to wait in line for me. Go on and shop for those new robes you wanted and I'll meet you there, okay?" By now, he's quite aware that we've attracted a crowd (much to my delight) and hurriedly pushes her out the door before she can even get a word out.

During this, I turn around to find the cashier ready with my broom. I hand him the money and say a cheerful good-bye. As I'm exiting the store, Matthew comes around to face me, face still bruise-purple, and hands red from his nails digging into his palms. He grabs the front of my robes with a fist and tries to pull me closer, but I push away his hand with ease, and slowly brush off the front of my robes.

"So, she your new daytime toy or something?" I ask, nonchalantly, looking him in the face. I don't wait for him to answer and continue, "I'm sure Hermione would just love to meet her, don't you think? Hey, I know! I'm sure you've heard about Ron's surprise party on Saturday. Well, dates are required, you know. Wouldn't she just love to come with you?" During my little speech, my voice has gone from calm and expressionless to hard and cold.

Matthew stands there, either in shock or fear, I'm not sure which, with his mouth hanging open. I step closer to him, my face only inches from his and hiss, "You've hurt my best friend way too many times. If I were you, I'd change my name and move to the farthest continent. In fact, I'll give you a head start before I hunt you down and take away the one thing that you need to learn to keep in your pants. Okay?" My words surprise even me and I silently try to calm myself down.

Matthew's eyes turn wide and his face turns so many shades of colors that I'm afraid he's going to be sick all over me. It takes him a while to respond and when he does, his voice is calm, as if he's negotiating the price on a purchase instead of facing Hermione's very angry best friend. I guess he feels it would be easier to try and talk this out then use violence. Fat chance.

"Harry, calm down, will you? This is just a huge misunderstanding, is all!" He lets out a nervous laugh and takes a step away from me. "You see, Barbie -"

I choke back a laugh. "Barbie?" I repeat, incredulously.

"Yes, Barbie. The woman who was with me? She's my cousin from America, you see, and she's come to visit for a week, that's all. You thought I was cheating on Hermione, didn't you?" He lets out another laugh, and looks at me uneasily, trying to see if I bought his lie. "I would never cheat on Hermione. I love her."

Suddenly, something bursts inside of me and all I see are bright, red dots. Before I know it, my arm is in the air, my hand balled into a tight fist, swinging straight towards Matthew's face. My knuckles make contact with his nose and I hear a sickening crunch of cartridge. Blood spurts everywhere, from his face and my hand.

I ignore the throbbing pain in my hand and glare at him. "How dare you say you love her! You don't know anything about her and you don't give a damn! The only reason you're with her is for publicity! I've had enough of sitting by and watching you disappoint her day after day; cleaning up the messes you make! You think what I did to you now is bad but don't let me see your filthy face again or you'll wish you only had a broken nose. Don't think I won't hold you on my threat from before; that is if you even have one," I sneer at him, my voice loud and harsh and ringing in my ears.

By now, there are people all around us, gasping and yelling, though I ignore them. I give him one last blood-freezing look and stalk away, the crowd parting to let me by. Somewhere in the distance, I hear cameras flashing and I know this will be all over the morning paper tomorrow.

::::::

HARRY POTTER: OUT OF CONTROL?

This reporter thinks so. While shopping in Diagon Alley yesterday afternoon, a very angry Harry Potter begins to yell at a poor passerby. The man, who goes by Matthew Peterson, says he was just walking by when Potter grabbed him by the arm and swung him around. After shouting threats at the poor man, Potter began to punch him furiously in the face. "It was as if he were possessed. He just began punching me and wouldn't stop until he had successfully broken every bone in my face," said Matthew, who was being taken care of by mediwizards. "We had spoken to Harry only a couple minutes before in the Quidditch shop. He seemed very pleasant. I guess this tells you to always be careful around these hotheaded celebrities," says Peterson's pretty girlfriend, Barbie Etheridge.

Many people are expressing concern for the safety of their lives. Many said they saw Harry storm away from Peterson and one woman described him as looking possessed. "His eyes were large and red and he was breathing heavily,' she said. Many are now pressuring the Ministry to do something about Potter's atrocious behavior that should most certainly get him fired from his job. We don't need Aurors who could throw the Avada Kedavra curse only because another person cuts in front of him in a line. Minister Arthur Weasley has assured us he will talk with Potter and straighten him out. We could not get a comment from either of Potter's good friends, Ronald Weasley or Hermione Granger.

Matthew Peterson is now being treated at St. Mungos and has been told his wounds will heal in no time.

"HARRY JAMES POTTER!" The shrill scream sends chills down my spine and I reluctantly leave the sanctuary of my bedroom to confront my best friend in the living room.

A seething Hermione is pacing up and down the length of the room, her face a dark red and her body shaking in uncontrollable anger. The wrath of Hermione Granger is not a pretty sight to see.

As soon as she sees me, she stops and takes a deep breath, obviously getting her lungs ready. I see Ron sitting on the couch reading the blasted Daily Prophet that Hermione has neglected and his face curves into a large smile. "All right, mate!" he cries, only to receive a deadly glare from Hermione.

She snatches the newspaper out of his hands and tosses it at me. "What the bloody hell is this?" she screams, not aware of the two words she has just used. Ron and I are in shock, however, at hearing her use them.

I look down at the paper in my hands and grimace. It's not enough to have one picture of me beating on him, no, they have to have three! There I am, my fist connecting with his face and the other two are of me walking away and the other is of Matthew's bleeding and swollen face. They look bad enough without having them moving. Merlin, he looks horrendous. I can't help but smile.

"What is that? Are you laughing?" Hermione shrieks, wiping the smile clear off my face. "Don't you dare joke about this, Harry, don't you dare! What makes you think you have the right to beat my boyfriend? What got into you?"

I quickly read the short article. Now my face is red. "I can't believe it! He lied!" I shout out, swinging the newspaper side to side. "I didn't just grab him all of a sudden! Hermione, he was with another girl! See her? That's who he was with! He was ready to hit me first! I was defending myself, not to mention you!"

Hermione's red face suddenly loses all its color. Ron stands up quickly and moves behind her, while I step forward, afraid she's going to faint. I curse myself silently; that wasn't the way I wanted to tell her.

"W-what?" she stammers, her voice now a whisper.

I sigh and rub a hand over my face. From behind her, Ron's eyes are wide and I see the same anger I have bubble to the surface. "I was buying Ron's present when I noticed Matthew behind me in line, with her on his arm. She recognized me and I struck up a conversation with them, ready to humiliate him. He tells her he'll meet her outside and when I stepped outside to leave, he came up to me and grabbed the front of my robes. I was telling him what I thought about him for hurting you and, well, when he made up some bogus lie and said he loved you, I just, I don't know, I just sort of exploded and that's when I punched him. Once."

She stares at me for a second, either trying to understand this whole thing or deciding whether or not to believe me. I step closer and take her hand in mine. "Hermione, I'm sorry, really I am. But it's the truth. He almost burst when he thought I was going to tell her that you and he are together. Then he tried to tell me she was his cousin from America and that he would never cheat on you because he loves you. I just couldn't walk away and do nothing. I'm sorry."

She looks up at me and does something that shocks me. She pulls her hand out of mine and steps away. "You're lying." This is said in a whisper, but her words echo loudly in my head.

My mouth opens and closes, like a fish out of water. I feel like one; all the oxygen has left and I feel like I'm suffocating. "I-"

She takes a step closer and snatches the paper from my hand. "How dare you lie to me," she hisses her face now red again, her eyes glinting maliciously. "I can't believe you would go and make up a story like that. I trusted you, Harry, and you let me down. You're not my father and you can't tell me who I can and cannot date, do you understand me? Matthew loves me, unlike you. Now leave me alone before you see how it feels to be on the receiving end of my wand. How could you?" She gives me a look of such hatred, my blood freezes, and then pushes past me, ignoring Ron's calls.

I stand frozen to the spot and a minute later I hear the front door open then slam shut.

"Harry?" Ron calls my name softly and I hear him as if he's far away. He touches my arm, hesitantly, and I'm suddenly angry.

"You think I'm crazy, huh?" I accuse, Ron's puzzled face showing the opposite but I don't care. "You think I'm lying too, don't you? I hate Matthew so, of course, I would go and try to punch his face in then make up a crappy story, right? Isn't that what you think?" I'm yelling now and my anger is directed at Ron though I'm anything but angry at him.

He holds up his hands. "The only thing I think is that if it were me, I would have done a lot more damage to the bastard," he says then grins at me.

All the steam has left and I realize I'm blaming Ron for something that doesn't even involve him. I rake my fingers through my hair. "I'm sorry, Ron," I murmur, suddenly ashamed.

"It's okay, mate, I understand," he says, clapping me on the back. "I also don't think you're lying and I don't think Hermione meant that either. She's just in shock and doesn't want to believe it."

I shake my head and slump onto the couch, defeated. "No, she's right. I had no right to do what I did, even though I would gladly do it again. I can't tell her who to date and who not to date, even if her boyfriend is a good-for-nothing, cheating, bastard."

It's Ron's turn to shake his head. "But, Harry, don't you see? You were protecting her. You love her; it's only natural to want to keep her from things that would only hurt her. "

"But Hermione said -"

"Hermione didn't know what she was saying. She knows you love her, albeit differently than you actually do, but she knows. She didn't mean it, any of it. She's just in shock and angry. Deep down she knows you're right and that she has to come to terms with her relationship with Matthew. Just give her time."

"Ron, I've had ten years full of time. I think I've just ran out of it."

::::::

I want to taste your kiss

Be the reason for your smile

Touch the magic on your skin

Be the one that drives you wild.

The sunlight peeks through the cracks between the closed blinds, sending patches of light on my face, making me squint. With a groan I shift myself only to end up on the floor. Now fully awake, I remember that I slept on the narrow couch in the living room instead of my own room, waiting up for Hermione. I also remember Ron sleeping on the floor next to the couch, where I am now laying on the pillows he was using. Lucky for him, he is already up.

I stand up and begin picking everything up; my mind too preoccupied with worrying thoughts of Hermione to realize I could just use my wand. I walk over to the kitchen and find a note perched on the counter.

Harry,

I'm off to practice, I figured it would be easier for me to make myself scarce then to have Hermione try and get me out of the house before all my surprise guests show up. Speaking of our absent best friend, she didn't show up last night and if you see her before my 'surprise' party, I give you my permission to ground her for life. But on a more serious note, I wouldn't bring up last night if I were you, you know how she is. She'll talk when she's ready, which I'm sure you know, since you know her better than anyone else; sometimes I think even better than she knows herself.

Anyway, don't let any of the guests in without a present, okay? See you in a while.

- Ron

P.S. I made some coffee for you since I know you'll be too worried to even remember to eat.

I smile and replace the note back on the counter, shaking my head back and forth in amusement. I take the coffee pot and pour myself a cup.

"He's right, you know."

The voice startles me so much, most of the coffee ends up on the floor than in my mug. I spin around to find Hermione standing there, in the same clothes she was wearing yesterday, her eyes puffy and red, her hair a mess.

Dark circles line her eyes and I know she hasn't slept all night; which worries me. Where did she go and when did she get back? For that matter, who's right?

"H-Hermione!" is all I can sputter, my face suddenly on fire with guilt. I grab a towel and bend down to wipe the floor and to get away from her intense gaze. That sad look is back but this time she's not hiding it.

I hear her walking quietly towards me and then her feet are visible right in front of me, quickly replaced with her face. She pulls the towel out of my hands, replacing it with her own hand, and pulls me up with her. We're now only a few inches apart and I see the visible pain in her face. It's like a secret that's tearing her apart inside, and for a moment hope bubbles up at the thought that her secret might be the same like mine, only to be squashed by her next words.

"Ron's right. You do know me better than I know myself at times but this is something I have to handle myself. I've been thinking and have decided that I don't know for sure if Matthew is cheating on me and will give him another chance. I talked to him last night and his story is exactly like the article."

I feel the same anger begin to boil and I want to shout at her. "Hermione, I wouldn't lie to you! Yes, I hate him more than I've hated anyone, maybe except for Voldemort, but your happiness is always on the forefront of my mind!"

She holds up both hands. "I know, Harry, and I don't think you're lying either. What I said last night was out of anger and denial. I didn't mean it and I'm sorry. But I have to see for myself. I have to see something, anything that will clue me in on Matthew cheating on me. Call it stupid but it's my business."

"But -"

"Let it go!” she snaps, then regains control. "He is going to come to the party today and I don't want you to cause anything, do you hear me? I don't want any trouble, so please try to control this hatred of yours."

"Hatred? He hates me too! Why do I feel like your anger is one-sided?" I snap back angrily.

She goes to reply but I cut her off, now tired of trying to help someone who doesn't want to be helped.

"You know what, Hermione? Do whatever you feel is necessary. I was only trying to protect you from getting hurt but it's obvious you don't want any protection." I turn to walk away, my now cold coffee forgotten.

"Harry," she calls. I stop but don't turn around. "I'm not that eleven-year-old girl who had to be saved from the troll anymore, Harry. I don't need protecting. I just need to learn from my mistakes and you solving them for me isn't going to help, as much as you think it will. Please try to understand."

I turn around then and say in a voice so cold it scares me, "How many mistakes do you have to make in order to learn from them?" With that I walk away, not before catching the tears that spring to her eyes.

::::::

Hours pass while I stay locked in my room, seething and guilty all at once. The Weasley's and Anna have all showed up to help Hermione with the decorations and I guess she told them what had happened because none of them have come in to talk to me.

"Harry?"

Okay, so I spoke too soon. Anna calls my name again and knocks softly. I stand up to open the door and there she is looking ill at ease. "Hey," she says quietly, giving me a smile.

"Hey." I hold the door open for her and she steps in, looking relieved to see my bed made and that she hasn't woken me up. "What are you doing here?" I ask her, though not unkindly.

She takes a seat at my desk and turns to look at me, concern evident in every feature. I still find it amazing how she's become such a big part of our lives and how well she fits in with the Weasley's and all of us.

"I came to help with the decorations and to make sure every guest arrives with a present. Ron's orders not mine," she answers with a grin.

I can't help but laugh. "What, he doesn't trust my ability in collecting his gifts?" I ask.

"Oh, so he asked you too, did he?" she laughs, shaking her head in amusement. "What am I going to do with him?"

"You could try locking him in a room with Snape; that'll straighten him out," I offer, trying to keep a straight face.

"Hey, not a bad idea," she responds, looking as if she's actually considering the idea.

We both look up at the same time and laugh, a good feeling spreading over me. I needed that.

After our laughter there is a sudden silence and I get the feeling Anna has not just come in here to check up on me but to also see what it is she can do to help this fight Hermione and I are engrossed in.

I sigh and shift slightly, uncomfortably. "Okay, what do you know?" I ask with another resigned sigh.

She looks taken back for a moment then shakes her head. "Just that you and Hermione aren't speaking."

I give her a doubting look with which she responds with, "Honestly!"

"But, she, no one, told you?"

She shakes her head. "No, Ron just looked worried when he stopped by this morning before practice and when I asked him what was wrong, that's all he would say. I don't think he feels it's his business to go spreading the word."

I hesitate for a moment, not sure if I should tell her about Matthew. I don't want Hermione more upset with me than she already is.

"You told have to tell me if-"

"Matthew is cheating on Hermione and when I told her, she called me a liar!" I rush out suddenly, surprising Anna as well as myself.

Her blue eyes become wide at this and after a moment I continue, not stopping until the whole story is out. I feel as if a small burden is lifted off my shoulders, but only a small one.

"Well, I ..." she starts but looks as if she's having a hard time finding the right words. "I ..."

"It's okay, Anna. I wasn't expecting you to have life giving advice or anything, I'm just glad I told someone besides Ron. I just wish she'd realize what a mistake she's making. I mean, this is Hermione for Merlin's sake. She doesn't make mistakes."

"Doesn't she?" Anna asks me. "Harry, have you told her how you feel?"

"How I feel? You mean how I think she's making a huge mistake in staying with him?"

She shakes her head. "No, I mean have you told her how you feel about her?"

I sit there flabbergasted for a moment. "How I feel about her? You know?" There is no way she could have known unless Ron had told her. "I'm going to kill him …”

“No, Ron didn't tell me, Harry," she laughs. "It just shows. I can tell you love her, everyone can."

"Wh-what?! How!"

"By the way you look at her, or talk to her, or even walk in front of her. It's the things you do for her that don't seem necessary but you do them anyway. It's the way you care, Harry."

"But Ron -"

"Yes, Ron cares too but it's a different kind of care. It's a big brother- best friend sort of care, not like you."

I slump back in my seat, defeated. "I'm that obvious, huh?"

Anna smiles. "Yes, you are."

"Well, at least I'm not that obvious. Hermione doesn't seem to notice."

"Maybe she does and is ignoring it because she doesn't want to ruin your friendship or maybe she really has no clue."

I sigh, running a hand through my already messy hair. "But I don't get it. Why is she with him if she knows he's bad for her? She's too smart for that."

"You've heard of the saying 'Love is blind, deaf, and dumb' well, so is deception. She might be intelligent but she's lonely. She only sees what she wants to see, therefore ignoring the fact that Matthew doesn't really love her."

"But I'm right here! Why doesn't she see that?!" I cry, feeling exasperated.

"Make her see it, Harry," she says then stands up and with a last smile, leaves my room.

Show her, huh? How in the hell am I supposed to do that?

Document created with wvWare/wvWare version 1.0.0

-->

Author's Note: Since I received so many reviews in one day (thank you all so much. You don't know how much they mean to me!) I decided to post the 3^rd and final (sorry guys ... No more chapters and no sequel) part tonight.

Muirnin: Harry will most definitely NOT show up with Barbie! *Scrunches up her nose* Most definitely not … uh uh. It is a good idea, don't get me wrong, but Harry is much too good for her. Lol, it's funny how caught up I get with the characters. Thanks so much for your review!

Proforce: I know it seems hard to believe that a strong woman like Hermione would be in denial but it is possible. There are women out there who don't think they can get anyone else so they stick with the loser they have. About the quote in the article about Barbie being his girlfriend: Matthew told Hermione that he did not tell the reporters that and they just assumed it. How does that sound? To be honest, it was a mistake, not planned. Sorry, I slipped. Thanks for catching it and thanks for reviewing.

Thanks again to all of you!

Anjel

Let Me Love You -- Part 3

I can't seem to tear my eyes away from her. Her laughter is ringing in my ears and I just want to slam my hands against them. Don't get me wrong, I love Hermione's laugh. It's the type of laugh that you just know comes from her heart. Not like others, where they sound fake and forced. No, Hermione has a beautiful laugh. But at the moment it sounds like those that are faked and forced because that's what she's doing. Laughing not because she finds anything funny but to make people believe she's happy with Matthew and that he can make her laugh. The thing is though, is that everyone knows he makes her cry more than anything else.

"Hey, Harry, great party, huh? Anna went all out for me," Ron cuts in to my brooding as he nudges me in the arm. "And look, everyone brought presents."

I just nod, not really listening to a thing he's saying. I only turn to him when he sighs. "What?"

"Harry, will you stop glaring at them and have some fun? It's bad enough you didn't bring a date!”

I stiffen. "I am not glaring at them. Besides, I am having fun." I ignore the date comment. How could I think about a date when Hermione is hurting?

Ron lets out a snort. "Yeah, and I'm going on a diet. Come on! It's Hermione's choice and you know that. She's a big girl and can handle herself, leave her alone."

"Ron! He's cheating on her! Hello! Does that mean nothing to you two?" I shout, causing some of the guests to turn our way.

Ron rolls his eyes. "Will you shut up?" he says and I scowl at him. "I know he is, you know he is, and she knows he is. Now will you let her handle it? Hermione has always had this complex where she has to figure things out on her own and if she doesn't then she has to figure out a way out of those things on her own. You aren't helping her by trying to help her."

I just stare at him, his speech sounding more like a riddle than anything. "Wait, what? Run that by me again, would you?"

"She loves you, Harry, she loves me, and when we aren't happy, she isn't happy, right? Well, she knows what we think about Matthew. Now it seems like she isn't taking our opinions to heart but she's thinking of us. Sooner or later she'll realize what scum he is and drop him. But she has to do it on her own. Without you. Got it?"

"Yeah, sure," I reply.

"Don't tell me you didn't understand that either!" he cries exasperated.

"No, I got it! Okay? I understand. We --" he gives me a look here, "okay, I need to let her sort out her love life alone. There, happy? I'll leave her alone."

Ron stares at me for a few seconds, as if deciding whether I'm telling the truth or not. "Good," he finally says. "Now go mingle."

"Mingle?" I repeat, raising an eyebrow.

He shrugs. "I heard it on a Muggle show once. Sounded catchy." He grins at me and then starts to walk away. "Ooh, look! Cake!" In a minute he's gone and poor Anna is suddenly bombarded, the cake almost landing on a pile on the floor.

I turn away from the scene of her yelling at him and back to Hermione and Matthew. I said I would leave her love life alone but that didn't mean I couldn't talk to them, right? I take a deep breath and walk over there, hoping she's not mad at me for my earlier behavior.

"Hey Hermione," I nod once in Matthew's direction. "Matthew."

Hermione lowers the glass she had to her lips and smiles at me. I let out a quiet sigh of relief; she isn't mad. "Hi, Harry. Having fun?" she asks.

"Yeah, you guys did a great job," I reply, smiling down at her. Hopefully she sees the apology I'm offering.

"Isn't she great?" Matthew gushes, wrapping an arm around her shoulder.

I give him an expressionless glance. "Yes, she is."

"Stop it you two!" she says, blushing a light pink.

Matthew gives me a smirk before looking down at Hermione. "Oh, but I can't help it! You're just so perfect."

I want to kill him. If he thought she was so perfect then he wouldn't be cheating on her; looking for something from someone else. I'm boiling inside.

Before I can comment however, Arthur Weasley walks up to us. He claps me on the back. "Harry! How are you? Hermione! You look magnificent." He stoops to hug her. His eyes glaze Matthew but he doesn't say anything to the guy. I smile to myself.

"Hello, Mr. Weasley," Matthew says, sticking out his hand.

Arthur looks at him with a cold stare without shaking his hand. "Matthew." I try not to snicker as Matthew slowly lowers his hand with a well kept sneer. He then turns to me with a smile, "Harry, may I speak with you for a moment?"

I nod gladly. He pulls me away from Hermione and Matthew into a corner. "You know, of course, that I've been informed about your confrontation with Peterson in Diagon Alley the other day."

I nod again, this time with a slightly sick feeling in the pit of my stomach. "Um, about that … I'm sorry --" I begin to apologize because even though I don't regret screwing up Matthew's face, I don't want Arthur to look bad in front of the wizarding world.

Arthur shakes his head. "No, no, no. Dear boy, don't apologize! I wanted to thank you for doing something all of us have wanted to do for a long, long time."

I stare at him, trying to figure out if he did in fact just say that or if I imagined it. "What?" I ask stupidly.

He laughs and claps me on the back. "Harry, we all know what's going on with this Matthew and how he treats our Hermione. We aren't blind, you know. When I was told that you almost disfigured his face, I almost cheered out loud. So don't worry about consequences -- well, except from Hermione, I think -- because there will be none from me. Just don't tell anyone about this conversation." He grins at me and with a wink walks away, joining Molly in a conversation with Remus Lupin.

I stand there for a couple of seconds, smiling to myself. The good feeling doesn't last however as I hear a voice coming from Hermione's bedroom. I look over at her and find her at the punch bowl; alone. I step closer and the quiet voice that floats out is Matthew's. I narrow my eyes as I listen to bits of his conversation, telling me he's talking to none other than Barbie.

Anger pops up again at the nerve he has to call her in Hermione's own house, her bedroom no less! I'm ready to barge in there when an idea pops into my head.

Oh, this man is going to pay. And this time, Hermione won't be able to deny the fact that Matthew is not all that he seems to be.

::::::

"Yes, Poopsy, I know. No, no, I'm on my way. Yes, I know, darling but -- With Hermione? What would make you think that? Oh, don't listen to that crazy hothead. I was at that business meeting, remember? Yes, no! Of course I don't fancy her like that! I love you. Of course, love ..."

I roll my eyes as I shift the very handy Muggle tape recorder. I'm hidden in the corner, far enough where no one will see me, close enough to hear Matthew clearly, but not too close where he could see me. To be honest, I feel slightly guilty but I find this is the only way.

My ears perk up as he says good-bye and I watch as he walks out of the room casually. As he steps a few feet away, I emerge from the corner. "Hey, Peterson!" I call.

He stops abruptly and turns towards me. "What do you want, Potter?" he asks with a sneer that would not be there if Hermione were present.

"Heard you talking to your girlfriend," I begin, putting an emphasis on the girlfriend.

He scowls at me. "Were you eavesdropping?" he asks walking towards me and stopping just a few feet away. He lowers his voice and his scowl disappears, instead, he smirks at me. "You know what? It doesn't matter because know matter what you tell her, Hermione will never believe you."

I avert my eyes for a second to lock eyes with Ron, who understands and walks over to us in a way as not to attract a crowd. I let him in on my plan and though he had advised me to leave them alone, he didn't seem to have a problem helping me out.

Matthew continues without noticing, "She adores me, don't you get it? She'll do anything I ask her too. Anything," he says, placing a loaded meaning into that anything.

I want to kill him right then and there. Screw the tape recorder ... I growl dangerously and grab the front of his shirt. "You dirty, son of a bitch ... If you ..." I'm ready to punch his brains out when Ron's hand is on my arm, pulling me back.

"Don't Harry," he says. "It's not worth ruining it now. Hermione would never listen to you if you start something right here."

He's right and I let go of Matthew, who brushes himself off and smirks again. "That's right, listen to your little boyfriend."

That was obviously the wrong thing to say because now Ron is clutching the front of his shirt and it's my turn to hold him back. "Ron, let it go."

He pushes Matthew back and he stumbles. He quickly gains his composure and turns to walk away. "Oh, Matthew," I call again. "I won't have to tell Hermione anything."

He turns back with a roll of his eyes. "Oh? And why is that?"

I hold up the tape recorder with a smirk of my own. "Every word of your conversation with your Barbie is on here. She'll know after I show this to her. And then, well, let's just say that if you looked bad when I beat you then you'll love how you look when Hermione hears this."

His mouth is open in shock and he stomps back towards us. "You filthy, lying ba --"

I hold up a hand. "Yeah, yeah, yeah. Save it, will you?" I nod my head in Hermione's direction. "Go tell her you need to speak with her. Then, you tell her everything."

"What! I don't think so!" he protests a bit too loudly. Hermione glances at us but doesn't do anything.

I shrug my shoulders and look over at Ron, who smiles evilly. "You don't seem to understand that you don't have a choice. So I suggest we do this calmly without making a scene. Hermione would just be even more angered by it. So move. NOW."

Ron is at his side and my wand is pointed discreetly at him. He looks at both of us with a sudden fear and I find a strange exhilaration at that. He slowly turns and almost stumbles to where Hermione is standing with Ginny and Draco. As we approach, she smiles. "Hey, Matthew. Where did you run off to?"

"Well, I --" he goes to explain but I poke him the back. "I need to speak with you," he rushes out.

Hermione looks over at Ginny and Draco. "But I'm in the middle of --"

"This is important, Hermione," Ron cuts in, looking serious.

Ginny seems to be catching on. "It's okay, Hermione. I was just going to go get some food, anyway." She nods at Draco and they're off.

Hermione turns back to us with a confused and slightly worried expression. "Please, Hermione," I speak up with a pleading look.

"Okay," she finally relents, looking apprehensive. We all head into her bedroom and I shut the door. Turning towards Matthew, I nod my head. "Tell her."

::::::

Let me take you to a place like no where else

Show you the things you never felt

Oh oh let me love you.

There was no apology, no remorse or shame. Matthew confessed everything, including things I didn't know, and when he finished we expected him to add an "I'm sorry" but all he did was shrug. I glanced at Hermione but she was staring at Matthew and I knew if I didn't get him out of the room as quickly as possible, he would no longer resemble a human being. Not that I wouldn't mind.

I clear my throat and look at Ron; he smirks at me then turns to Matthew. "You know your way to the door, now go find it," he says, nodding to the exit.

Matthew glares at him. "I will leave when I'm ready," he says indignantly, standing his ground. He then looks at Hermione. "Well? Don't you have anything to say to me?'

My mouth falls open in shock. His tactlessness is almost overwhelming. This guy has no class, no tact, whatsoever. I'm about to let him have it when Hermione begins speaking in a voice that sounds casually calm.

"Actually, yes, I do have something to say."

Matthew smirks, standing up straighter. He's expecting her to beg him not to leave her and though I know for a fact Hermione would never do such a thing, I don't really know what to expect.

"I want to say thank you," she says, with a smile of her own.

Matthew's smirk falters for only a moment. "Yes, I do think you owe me that."

Hermione nods, completely nonplussed. "Yes, I want to thank you for saving me the trouble of having to dump you." She smiles sweetly.

His smirk is completely gone. He looks shocked (Ron has the same expression and I'm sure I do too, but ours is mixed with pride), then his face changes into a sneer. He moves towards her, a fist raised.

Ron and I immediately move in front of her, a scowl on both our faces. "Touch her and you'd wish you had ran out of here," I tell him in a dangerously low voice, my protectiveness up and alert.

"Just leave," Ron adds, his wand pointing directly in between Matthew's eyes. "Don't let the door hit you on your way out."

He glares at all of us, lets out a stream of obscenities, turns on his heels and storms out of the room. Ron lowers his wand and smiles wide. "That was fun," he says cheerfully. He looks at the both of us and grins. "I better go make sure no one hexed him on his way out. Merlin knows everyone in that room would love a chance." He kisses Hermione on the forehead and steps out of the room, closing the door softly behind him.

With a sigh, Hermione sits on the edge of her bed, her head going into her hands, all wittiness draining. I sit down next to her and touch her arm gently. She looks up at me and before I know it, her face is pressed into my chest, tears soaking my t-shirt. I wrap my arms around her tightly, pulling her close. "I'm so sorry, Hermione. You don't deserve that," I whisper in her ear, running my hand up and down her back. I feel horrible, my heart aching for her.

She shakes her head and looks up. "No, I deserved that. I am so incredibly sorry. I shouldn't have said what I did to you. I can't believe I didn't trust you. I believed his word over yours and I just ... " She looks away.

"You what?" I ask softly, bringing my hand up to her cheek, making her look at me.

She stares at me for what seems forever, looking as if she's searching my eyes for something. There's fear in those chocolate brown eyes of hers. Fear, apprehension, anxiety, and something else I'm not quite sure I can place.

"Tell me," I urge her gently. "You know you can, Hermione. I'm here for you, always." All I want to do is pull her close again and hug her tightly, making everything go away.

"Harry ..." she begins, but turns away, the sentence forgotten. When she looks back at me, I'm surprised to find anger in her features. "Why?" she asks suddenly, forcefully.

Now I'm confused. How can women go through so many different emotions so easily? "Why what?" I ask cautiously, not wanting her to get angry with me all over again.

Hermione gives me a hard look and stands up. "Why do you care so much? Why do you care who I date, how they treat me? You never cared before, so why now?" Her hands were moving about as she was speaking, a habit she only uses when she's angry, agitated, or excited. I'm guessing she's angry.

But out of everything she just said, her last sentence stands out the most. "I never cared before?" I repeat, not believing my own ears. Now I'm getting angry. "How can you say such a thing? I've always cared about you, Hermione! Why? You want to know why?" I realize I'm shouting, but I don't care anymore. All my feelings for my best friend are coming to a head and I can't seem to stop the words that are flying out of my mouth.

She has her arms crossed over her chest, a signal of protection. She's trying to protect herself from ... Well, I don't quite know. "I know why. Because I'm your best friend," she finishes for me, her voice quiet, sad. She seems disappointed and hurt but I can't figure out why when it's been me who was forced to watch her with other men. "It's okay. I know. I guess I was just hoping ..." She sits down on the bed once more and stares down at the comforter.

I shake my head but she doesn't see me. Sitting down next to her, she looks up at me. "No, Hermione."

Now she looks confused, and even more hurt. "No?"

I shake my head again. "I care so much because I love you." I take a deep breath.

"I know, Harry," she replies, looking away again.

"I love you," I say again, putting all my emotions into that one word. I want her to understand, to know how I feel about her. How I've felt for so long.

Her head pops up and her eyes are once again searching mine, looking for confirmation of what I've just said. "You ..."

I nod my head. "For so long. I didn't have the courage to tell you before and then Matthew came along and I saw the way he treated you. I knew I had to do something, even if it meant you wouldn't speak to me again, because your happiness is so important to me. And I knew you weren't happy. I know you."

Hermione shakes her head, her eyes never leaving mine. "No, I wasn't happy."

"But it's over now. I just wanted to tell you how I felt before it was too late. I'm sorry if I've crossed a line that should never be toed but, well, I'll understand if you don't feel the same. I just had to tell you." I stand up, feeling hurt and rejected. I kiss her softly on the forehead as her head turns up to look at mine, surprise etched across it.

She stands up quickly. "Where are you going?"

"I'll leave you alone," I say, my hand on the doorknob.

"Harry Potter! You great, blind, prat!" she cries, throwing her hands up in the air with exasperation.

I look around, shocked. "What?" I swear I didn't do anything this time...

She walks up to me, so close, our noses almost touch. "Do you know how I long I've dreamed of you saying those words to me? I thought I was being obvious but you didn't even notice how love struck I was with you! So I went out with other guys, knowing they weren't you, and probably never would be but ... I never loved any of them because my heart was already taken."

A slow grin made its way on my face. "How could we have held each other's hearts without even knowing it?"

Hermione shakes her head. "We were both blind." This is said in a whisper, and her face is moving closer.

My breathing becomes hitched and I almost forget what to do. "Are you sure, Hermione?" I ask softly, my hand going to her cheek, wanting to touch those lips of hers.

"Harry, if you don't kiss me, I'll be forced to turn you into a blast-ended skrewt," she says, her voice low and her eyes falling shut.

"I can't argue with that." I lower my lips to hers and the sensation is better than I could have ever imagined. Her arms are around my neck, pulling me closer. My arms tighten around her waist, my hands roaming upwards as the kiss deepens.

We're suddenly moving and before I know it, we're on her bed, Hermione smiling up at me. "Finally," she whispers.

I can't stop smiling. "Do you know how long I've waited to do that?" I tug gently on a strand of her hair, feeling happier than I can ever remember being.

"Then don't stop," she murmurs, pulling my face down and kissing me, slow and soft. I feel dizzy, emotions going crazy. I release my hold on her lips and trail sweet kisses down her chin and along her jaw. I run my fingers down her throat, staring into her face, her eyes closed. When I stop she opens them and smiles. "What?"

I grin broadly. "So you love me, huh? Well, I should have known, every girl that comes across my path falls in love with me ..."

Hermione pushes me off of her with a mock growl. "Oh really? What makes you think I'm in love with you, Potter? What if I'm only looking for some fun?" She pushes me on my back and straddles me. She leans down until our foreheads are touching, her hair falling around us like a curtain. I breathe in her scent, a tropical papaya smell. She's smiling at me and I can feel my heart pounding in my chest, thinking how beautiful she is.

"I love you," she whispers, kissing me softly. She slides to the side a bit and tucks her head under my chin and we lay like that for a while.

Our hearts are dancing the same rhythmic dance, combining until we seem like one. I don't know how long we were laying there, taking comfort and security in the fact that we were finally together, free to kiss and hold each other whenever we felt like it.

I know I could stay like this forever, Hermione in my arms. My Hermione.

"I love you, My Harry," I hear her murmur sleepily.

I hold her tighter. I finally have the solution to my problem. I have Hermione and I know that no matter what happens, how many fights we'll get into, or how many disagreements we'll have, I'll always love her.

I smile. Fairy tales do come true, they just take some time.

:::::

Show me what its like to lose control

Free the desire in your soul

Oh oh let me love you.

Document created with wvWare/wvWare version 1.0.0

-->