A Realization

dream_boat

Rating: R
Genres: Romance, Humor
Relationships: Harry & Hermione
Book: Harry & Hermione, Books 1 - 5
Published: 25/02/2005
Last Updated: 25/02/2005
Status: completed

Hermione sat in the common room bent low over a badly dog-eared copy of Standard Book of Spells, Grade 7. However consuming the book was, she could not concentrate. She kept thinking about the kiss she had shared with her best friend the night before. Since fleeing to her dormitory immediately after, she had completely avoided both Harry and Ron all of the following day...

Chapters

1. A Kiss

2. A Confession

3. A Trip

4. A Picnic

5. A Question

1. A Kiss

Hermione sat in the common room bent low over a badly dog-eared copy of Standard Book of Spells, Grade 7. However consuming the book was, she could not concentrate. She kept thinking about the kiss she had shared with her best friend the night before. Since fleeing to her dormitory immediately after, she had completely avoided both Harry and Ron all of the following day.

What was he thinking? He can't possibly have meant…no, he wouldn't think of me like that.

Just then the portrait hole opened and in walked Ron, closely followed by Harry. With a small gasp, her eyes darted towards the dark corner where they had emerged, and then quickly back down to her book again. As she feigned scanning the same page she had been scanning for the past half-hour, she began to chew her lower lip.

The noise level in the common room - that normally would have aggravated Hermione - now soothed her. For once she was glad that the room was packed with students. Harry and Ron obviously hadn't seen her sitting on the plump couch in front of the fireplace, because they sat at one of the smaller tables and were soon engrossed in a brutal game of Wizard's Chess.

Her eyes zoomed toward them again, checking to see if they had noticed her. When she saw that they hadn't, she clambered off of the couch and zoomed up the stairs towards her dormitory.

-(-(-

The next morning, Hermione had made up her mind that she could no longer avoid her two best friends without raising suspicion. She dressed quickly and rocketed down the stairs and out the portrait hole to make sure she was the first one of the Trio to be in the Great Hall for breakfast. She settled in a spot on a bench all by herself, making sure there was plenty of room on either side of her. She wanted to see if he would choose to sit next to her, or across the table from her. Thinking about it, she decided that either choice could mean certain death for her.

If he sat across from her, they would most definitely exchange awkward glances throughout the meal. And if he sat next to her, she was certain that they would be forced to make physical contact; whether it be bumping elbows or touching shoulders.

She scrambled to pile food onto her plate. What's wrong with me, I never eat this much! She continued, however, and began shoveling the food into her mouth at a pace that would likely put her in danger of gagging herself to death.

Then, suddenly, Harry and Ron were both sitting down next to her. She gave a small jump, but pretended not to notice them.

“What's wrong with you, Mione?” Harry inquired, brows furrowed in much the same way that hers often did when asking the very same question of him.

“Mmphust ee mmagn” she tried to force out through the mouthful of food.

This was horrible! She looked like a pig for Merlin's sake!

She jumped from her seat between them, trying to mumble something about the library. She turned away and zoomed swiftly from the Great Hall, leaving them sitting with startled looks on their faces.

-(-(-

“Hermione, what's wrong,” she heard a voice whisper behind her, as she felt a strong hand tighten over her shoulder.

She jumped slightly, but composed herself quickly and turned to face him.

“Nothing. Why?” That sounded so rehearsed!

“Well let's see, we didn't see you all day yesterday, and today you run out of the Hall after shoveling your face full of food…hmmm? And now I find you out here by the lake. It's freezing; you should be wearing a sweater.”

“I…I-I” What's wrong with me? Suddenly I've lost the ability to speak coherently?

“C'mon Mione, I can tell you're lying to me. I'm getting much better at Occlumency, you know…”

“Oh Harry, I just can't! It would be so unbelievably embarrassing! Please don't make me tell you,” she exclaimed, flinging her arms around his neck and burying her face into his chest.

“Whoa, whoa, just calm down. There's no reason to freak out. Of course you don't have to tell me.”

He smells so good. I wonder if he knows how good he smells.

“Harry, could you just…sit with me out here for a while? I mean maybe I'll get up the courage to tell you…” she ended abruptly.

“Sure,” he said calmly, as they sat down side by side beneath the huge beech tree. They sat quietly for a few moments, just staring out at the lake. Gently, he slipped his hand into hers and intertwined his fingers amongst hers. She shifted herself and dropped her head onto his shoulder, sighing deeply.

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2. A Confession

That evening she studied in the library. She much preferred its quiet to the noise of the common room, which would most likely be consumed by parties until the end of the year. Since Harry had defeated Voldemort some three weeks back, there had been a constant uproar of noise in almost every classroom, hall, common room and even toilet. It's not that Hermione wasn't overwhelmed with happiness over Harry's success, she had done her bit a partying too, she just had become engrossed by recently discovered emotions.

She knew she had always loved Harry. But she had never thought about it as more than a friendly, brotherly love. As of late she had begun to feel much more deeply for him. Seeing him unconscious for all of those days in the Hospital Wing after the Defeat had almost sickened her with sorrow. She had realized that her feelings for him might be more than…well, a friend should feel.

After Ron had kissed her the other night, she had been utterly confused. Not to mention a bit shocked. Sure, they had dated somewhat in their third year. If you call a few secret kisses dating. All those weekends in Hogsmeade without Harry, just the two of them, it had just seemed natural at the time. Of course, they had only been thirteen. No thirteen-year-old had ever had a meaningful and long-lasting relationship that she knew of.

Neither she nor Ron had ever mentioned anything to Harry. They decided that their shared kisses felt more like uncomfortable moments between a brother and a sister. And that had been the end of it. Of course, Ron had definitely had his jealous moments their next year at Hogwarts when she had gone to the Yule ball with Viktor Krum. She hadn't really thought much of it until two nights ago when he had cornered her in an alcove in one of the hallways on one of her usual rounds as Head Girl. It had been much more than the chaste kisses they had shared during their third year. They were now no longer thirteen, but a much more grown up seventeen. She had pulled away quickly and grabbed her mouth as her eyes widened in alarm. She wriggled from his grasp and dashed towards Gryffindor Tower and upwards toward her dorm.

“Thought I might find you in here,” came a familiar deep voice, bringing her back to the present. This time she could not conceal her jump of surprise, causing him to chuckle at her edginess.

“You keep creeping up on me like that! What do you expect?” she said with a lighthearted swat to his arm. He stood behind her as she sat at one of the long tables in the library, craning her neck around to look at him. He grinned down and her and bent over to place a small kiss on her forehead. Her face went slack and she momentarily forgot who she was.

He smelled like ozone…the sky during a lightning storm. Mixed with soap and grass.

Blinking furiously, she regained her composure and grinned up at him. “I don't suppose you've come here to study for the N.E.W.T.s?”

“No. Actually, I came in here just to find you.”

“That's sweet, but I would have preferred the studying.”

“You'd think they'd let The-Boy-Who-Defeated-The-Dark-Lord-Again skip those things, huh?”

“Well, it's a wonderful thought, yes, but you and I both know it won't happen.”

“Quite the optimist lately, aren't you?”

“Sorry, Harry. I know you must think I'm horrible for being in here with my nose in a book instead of celebrating for you…”

“No, I completely understand,” he said as he began to rub her shoulders. She tried not to let a groan escape her lips. “I've been trying to avoid the parties myself. Where were you last night? I didn't see you in the common room.”

“Oh…I wasn't feeling well. I went to bed early.”

“You've been acting strange the past few days,” he whispered as he slid into the seat beside her. She remained defiantly quiet and returned her focus to her studies. He reached out and pushed a strand of hair behind her ear. A shiver went down her spine and she tried to disguise her pleasure.

“It's nothing, Harry. It's silly really.”

“Something happened with Ron, didn't it,” he said, not so much as a question as a statement. She gasped and turned her face, wide eyed, toward him.

“…Harry!”

“You couldn't possibly think you're the only one acting strange. And I can tell you that whatever it is that happened he seems to feel absolutely awful about it.” She remained quiet, but averted her eyes from his. She could feel those jade orbs piercing straight into her mind and began chewing her lower lip. She could sense him straighten up beside her as if giving himself courage to ask his next question. “He kissed you didn't he?” he asked in a seemingly calm voice.

Merlin! If only he knew what he was doing to me! How much I wished it were HIM who had kissed me!

Her silence answered the question for him. She tried to remain focused on staring at the quill gripped tightly in her hand. He reached out and touched her chin with his fingertips, turning her to face him.

“Mione, it's okay. It's nothing to be upset about.”

“Of course it is Harry! Now everything is just…well, awkward! I can't even bring myself to look at him! How am I supposed to go on being his best friend when I can't even look at him, Harry? I don't feel that way about him!”

“Hermione, you're overreacting, as always. It's no big deal. Really.”

“How can you say that? I feel so embarrassed.”

“Don't be,” he said quietly, wrapping his arms around her shoulders. She began to cry softly into his shoulder whispering, “I just want to make sure this doesn't ruin my friendship with him….”

-(-(-

That night things seemed much better. Harry had taken her back to the common room where she and Ron quietly agreed to ignore The Kiss. Her uneasiness was made all the more comfortable by the bottle of butterbeer that Harry had forced into her hand. She sipped it slowly, watching everybody in the room enjoy themselves as she sat quietly on the squishy sofa.

After a while, Harry fought his way back through the crowd towards her, placing another butterbeer beside her on the couch.

“Alright then, Hermione?”

“Feeling a little better, yeah, now that I've talked to Ron. Thanks for that,” she said, smiling at him.

They sat there for quite some time. Talking a little, but mostly just listening to the sounds of laughter in the room around them. The happiness was infectious. However, soon the noise began to die down and Harry and Hermione were left sitting alone in the messy common room.

“…Harry, were you scared…you know, then…”

“Hmmm? Yeah, sure,” he said knowing exactly what she had meant by then. “But I got through it thinking about my friends. You know, I'm definitely sure that's what got me through,” he said quietly.

“What do you mean?”

“Well, I'm not quite sure. I've talked with Dumbledore about it a few times. It's pretty much brought us both to the same conclusion…” he ended.

“And…w-what's that?”

“Love.”

“Oh.” She sat, afraid to look at him and instead took another sip of her butterbeer. Then, after much silence and chewing of her lower lip, she understood; a power the Dark Lord knows not. “Harry, I think I should tell you…Well, I don't know just how to say it.”

“I find it much easier to just blurt it out, before I read your mind.” She chuckled nervously and took another long swig of butterbeer. “Geez Hermione, it can't be that bad!”

“Oh no…it's just, I'm afraid you'll think of it the wrong way. Well, you know…well…Ron and I…we sort of used to…well, kiss regularly.” After a brief moment of awkward silence, in which the only sound was Hermione sipping more from her bottle while her eyes strained sideways to see his reaction, Harry spoke; “You mean, like he was your boyfriend?” he asked, looking directly at her.

“Well, I wouldn't use that word exactly. But something like it. Are you upset?”

“Well, no, not really. Just surprised. Hermione Granger had her first kiss before me?” This caused them both to let out nervous laughs and then fall back into a more comfortable silence.

Hermione felt him shift his weight so that he was slightly closer to her. “Why did you tell me?”

“I just thought you should know, I guess,” she said leaning forward and placing her empty bottle on the floor. She let out a sigh and propped her elbows on her knees and rested her chin in her palms.

“Oh,” was all he said before he started stroking the bit of skin showing above the butt of her jeans where her shirt had ridden up from bending forward. Instead of jumping she closed her eyes and let out something between a sigh and a moan. He let his hand wander up her back and began making slow circles around her shoulder blades.

“I should be the one rubbing your back. Considering you've recently lived through a duel with the most powerful dark wizard every known…” she muttered half-heartedly. He let out a throaty chortle and grabbed her shoulder and pulled her onto his chest where he held her until they fell asleep to the sounds of the crackling fire.

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3. A Trip

Hermione woke the next morning on the bed in her dormitory with a quilt pulled up around her shoulders. She brushed a few curls from her face and looked around the room, reaching around briefly to scratch Crookshanks.

How did I get up here? The last thing I remember is talking with Harry in the common room. Surely he couldn't have brought me up here? The stairs wouldn't have let him.

Mmmmm such wonderful dreams of Harry.

She still felt the after effects of the dream on her panties. She was getting more and more used to these kinds of dreams. When they had started she was terribly mortified that someone would find out.

She shrugged off the quilt and stood up stretching, she began rummaging for some fresh clothes before heading off to the bathrooms.

After her shower she headed off for the Great Hall. She wasn't exactly sure how late it was. Luckily, it was Saturday so the only thing she'd missed out on so far was a good early morning study session alone in her room.

To her surprise, the Great Hall was practically empty! Where is everyone? Do they all know something that I don't? Then it hit her; Quidditch! How could she have forgotten! The last match of the season and the first one that Harry had actually gotten to play in all year!

Grabbing some bits of toast on her way through, Hermione rushed across the Great Hall, into the Entrance Hall and through the front doors out into the surprisingly dark June afternoon. By the time she reached the Quidditch pitch she was nursing a stitch in her side. She made it all the way up to sit amongst her fellow Gryffindors and munch quickly on her rumpled toast in time to glimpse Harry shooting over their heads. Suddenly she dropped the toast to her feet…

I swear he winked at me!

An instant later Harry's fingers had wrapped around the snitch. “Gryffindor wins!” came Lee Jordan's voice from somewhere in the back of Hermione's mind, though he had left Hogwarts two years earlier. Harry wins, chimed in her heart.

Later she found herself sitting yet again under the beech tree beside the lake. She clasped her arms around her knees as she watched Harry skip rocks across the tranquil surface. He was still wearing his Quidditch robes and she couldn't bring herself to tear her eyes away from him as he spoke animatedly to her about the game.

“…don't you think so? Hermione?”

“Of course…mmm hmm,” she squeaked as she refocused her eyes, shaking her head slightly.

“You alright? You haven't heard a word I've said have you?” he said with a crooked grin.

“Sure I have,” she said defiantly. He raised his eyebrows, continuing to smile mischievously. “Well, maybe…not all of it,” she whispered with a blush. He abruptly rushed at her and pushed her onto her back, falling onto her and tickling her with all of his might. She wriggled with laughter and tried her best to squirm her way from underneath him. This only made him tickle her more enthusiastically until tears streamed from her eyes and she didn't think she'd be able to breathe anymore…

He rolled off of her, shaking with laughter and she lay spent on the grass beside to him gasping for air.

“…N-not…funny…Harry!” she breathed. Laughing harder, he rolled toward her and placed his fingers on the side of her face, pushing a few escaped tendrils of hair from her forehead. Gradually, the laugher subsided. He lay beside her with his elbow propped up, resting his face in his hand. The way he was looking at her made butterflies begin to dance around her stomach. His hand slid from her hair and cupped her cheek gently, “You really are beautiful, you know…”

Before Hermione could blurt out some self-effacing retort, Harry leaned forward and lightly captured her lips with his. It was nothing fiery, just a small chaste kiss that lingered a bit longer than most they had shared as friends. Before either of them could amplify it into something deeper, a voice rang out at them.

“Oy, Harry, Hermione, where have you two been?” floated Ron's voice from near the front doors. They quickly shifted away from each other. Harry sat up abruptly and Hermione nervously tucked a strand of wild hair behind her ear, swallowing a lump in her throat.

“What's up, Ron?”

“When are you gonna come and celebrate the House Cup with us, mate? Harry? Hermione?” he paused looking closely over the two of them, “something wrong?”

“Of course not Ronald,” Hermione offered a little too harshly. She stood up swiftly and began making her way towards the castle. Ron shrugged at Harry behind her. She could have sworn she heard him mutter something that sounded a lot like “mental” in Harry's direction.

-(-(-

Over the next couple of days, Harry and Hermione exchanged several self-conscious glances at on another. In fact, Hermione could feel her face grow hot every time Harry was around. But neither mentioned the kiss by the lake. Hermione could not determine if this was a good thing or not. Was Harry simply too shy to bring it up with her, or did he feel absolutely mortified that he had kissed her; Hermione? At one point they were once again alone in the common room and Harry still hadn't found the guts to explain himself to her. Instead, he had mumbled something about a headache and raced up the stairs toward his room

This left Hermione feeling completely hopeless. She had been right all along; Harry would never think of her as anything more than a friend. She knew she wasn't exactly pretty. “You really are beautiful, you know...” What had he been playing at? And they way his eyes had penetrated into her very soul as he had spoken these words were still enough to send warms tingles down her spine. Today, she decided, was the day she took matters into her own hands. If Harry wouldn't bring it up, then she would. Perhaps she'd corner him before Potions, or after Care of Magical Creatures. Maybe it would be best if she just waited until later that evening when they could be alone in the Common Room…

“Hermione, wait up!”

“Oh hey, Ron.”

“Wow, somebody's moody. Walk with me to transfiguration?”

“Sure.”

Hermione could hardly contain her ability to focus on McGonagall's lecture. Harry had taken a seat directly in front of her (since he had lately abandoned his usual spot beside her) and she found herself staring at the back of his head all lesson. She had worn her hair up today and now was incessantly twirling bits of her ponytail around her fingers. She found herself daydreaming…

Harry had backed her up against McGonagall's desk, she could feel it against her butt as he leaned seductively towards her. “You really are beautiful…” he was saying as he leaned towards her, drawing her to him and placing a deep passionate kiss against her lips…

She was brought from her reverie - blinking back a building blush - by a student rushing through the door and handing McGonagall a letter, “From the Headmaster, Professor.” McGonagall's eyes swept across the note, adjusted the glasses on her nose, cleared her throat, and looked up at the class.

“The Headmaster has requested my presence in his office immediately. Class dismissed.” She swept past the students and, as an afterthought, turned her head back at them saying, “Miss Granger, if you'll kindly collect last week's homework and place it on my desk.” And with that, she was gone.

Hermione rose slowly from her seat and began to gather the homework from the now empty desks. She shuffled the papers together in her hands and strode front of the classroom. As fate would have it, one of her fellow classmates had forgotten a satchel of some kind and had left it sitting on the floor beside their desk before exiting. In her haste to leave the classroom and catch up with Harry, the toe of her boot caught on the misplaced bag. Papers flew far and wide as she sailed downwards on a crash course towards the floor. With a dull thud her body collided with the hard wood, shooting pain through her elbows as she flailed wildly to grasp a desk.

“Merlin! Are you alright Mione?” came Harry's voice as he rushed towards her.

“Uhhh…” was all that managed to escape her lips before Harry helped lift her to her feet, sitting her down at a nearby desk. As she sat rubbing her hip, he collected the papers from the floor.

Coming fully to her senses, Hermione leapt from her chair, tearing the papers from Harry's grip. “I'm fine, really. I can do that,” she said, a bit more harshly than she had meant. She plucked the few remaining sheets of parchment from the floor and continued towards the front desk. She couldn't help but be furious with Harry for his lack of communication lately, but at the same time couldn't help being mortified that he had seen her trip. I can't believe he saw that whole thing! Hermione, you idiot!

“What are you still doing here, anyway? Haven't you got somewhere better to be?” she snorted, placing the papers atop the desk and not daring to look back at him. Suddenly he was standing right behind her.

“I thought I'd wait for you,” he murmured. She could feel the warmth of his breath on her exposed neck and trembled slightly. Blushing, she remembered her daydream from minutes before. “I thought maybe we could talk.”

Still not looking at him, she continued to mix up the papers in front of her, “Whatever about Harry?”

“Listen,” he said, clutching her shoulder and turning her to face him, “I've had Dobby pack us a picnic, I thought maybe you'd like to accompany me outside for lunch. You know, just the two of us.”

She blinked at him, confusion evident in her eyes, and then a broad smile crossed her face. “Of course, Harry. I'd like that.”

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4. A Picnic

After catching Dobby near the Entrance Hall, where they collected their picnic basket, they continued out the front doors and strode off across the grass. Hermione, who had been certain they were heading to the lake, was surprised when Harry steered them in the direction of the Forbidden Forest.

“Are you sure about this Harry? The forest? Is that really a place we want to be eating?”

“Are you a Gryffindor or not?” His eyes twinkled.

“Of course, but I'm also Head Girl, Harry. I'm supposed to set a good example.”

“Loosen up, Hermione. Besides, I have something I want to show you.”

And so they continued on in silence. The day was bright and sunny. She was glad that the weather was back to normal after the past few cold and cloudy days they had seen. It was, after all, the beginning of summer. Hermione just wouldn't have felt right graduating under stormy skies. Shifting the picnic basket to his other side, Harry took hold of her fingers with his free hand. “You're thinking about graduation, aren't you?”

Slightly surprised, she decided to be truthful. Harry had seemed to develop new, stronger powers since the Defeat. While Hermione hadn't considered this a bad thing, she now felt invaded by his new attempts at mind reading. “Yes.”

“Don't worry. It'll be soon enough. N.E.W.T.s will be over next week and it'll be smooth sailing after that. We both know there's no way you could do badly on them.” They had entered into the trees now, and Harry's fingers remained entwined with hers. She didn't know why this made her feel so light-headed. She had held Harry's hand several times before this. But perhaps because this was the first time they had done it when not in a life threatening situation, Hermione allowed herself to think more of it.

They traveled deeper into the forest and Hermione was beginning to become concerned about whether Harry could find their way back out again. Just when she was about to suggest turning back and heading for the calm shore of the lake, they stepped into a small clearing. The sun shone down onto the little patch of grass and Hermione could see several butterflies flickering just over the earth.

“Oh Harry, it's beautiful!” she exclaimed, positively glowing with delight.

“I knew you'd like it,” he said, studying her eyes as they roamed the little meadow. “Hagrid showed it to me last year. I thought it might come in handy some day.” They walked forward into the clearing and began to spread the blanket over the lush grass. They chatted as they ate. Small things. How much they would both miss Hogwarts. What their plans were beyond school. Hermione had already been offered jobs at the Ministry, The Daily Prophet and not to mention her share of teaching positions. Harry had also been offered a job within the Ministry and countless Quidditch bids. Neither of them could decide what to do next. As of late, Hermione had been toying with the idea of studying to become a Healer, which Harry had assured her thousands of times she would excel at.

After the sandwiches had disappeared, they lay watching the birds twitter amongst the trees. Then, a serious expression crossing his face, Harry turned towards her. Looking at him, she couldn't help but noticed some of the small scars he had acquired during the Defeat. They were small, really, but hurt her to look at all the same. Thinking of what Harry had gone through that night, alone, still kept her up at night. Often, she quietly cried herself to sleep. It made her ache that Harry could not confide in her. She had always thought that he could tell her anything. But lately…

“Listen, Hermione…”

“What is it Harry?” Hermione asked, giving him a concerned look to match his serious one.

“Well, I brought you here to talk to you. You know, about things…”

Things? Honestly! She could kill those Dursleys for the emotional constipation they had created in her Harry!

He took her hand in his as they both sat up. He turned toward her and they sat cross-legged, knee to knee, and he looked directly into her eyes. Then he let out a deep sigh, frowning slightly, and gripped both of her hands tighter.

“W-When I fought Voldemort before; it always seemed to be out of anger.” She could tell he was struggling which could only mean on thing; this was it, Harry was going to let it all out. She nodded to let him know that it was alright to continue. She knew that if she interrupted him now; he'd probably never get it out. “I wanted to avenge my parents or Sirius, or anybody else he'd turned his wand on. After fifth year, when I found out about the prophecy, I felt dead already. I acted dead. I kept replaying it in my head `neither can live while the other survives.' I just knew I was going to die.

“All of sixth year, I just seemed to float around, as if I didn't really exist. I detached myself from everyone. You, Ron, everyone. I had given up on myself early on. We spent that summer after sixth year with the Weasley's. I gave up…” he trailed off. She could tell he was trying to muster all the strength he had to go on. She squeezed his hand affectionately. He closed his eyes and let out a sigh, then brought them back to her, looking into her eyes again. “You walked in on me as I leaned up against the bathtub with that razor blade in my hand. You weren't angry. You didn't start shouting. This look just crossed your face and you came in and closed the door. You walked right over to me and sat down facing me on my lap. I just remember clinging to you and sobbing.

“I don't think I'll forget that moment for as long as I live Hermione. The day you saved me from myself.

“So this year, I redoubled my efforts. For you. I had wasted enough time the year before feeling sorry for myself. Every training session, I thought of you. I still didn't think more of our relationship. I knew we loved each other, but I still had it in my head that it was a brother-sister love.” He smiled and ran a hand through her curls, shooting sparks through her body.

“Then the night I got word that I would be leaving the next morning…you asked me to stay with you.” He paused to relax his hand atop Hermione's again. “I remember waking up in your dorm. I spooned up against you on your bed, and you were snuggled down in the blankets. I could smell your hair, it smelled like peaches. Both of your hands were clutched around the arm I had draped over your side. I don't know how long I lay atop the blankets listening to you breathe…five minutes, an hour maybe? Then I left you.

“Hermione, that night…I-I didn't defeat Voldemort with my training or any vast knowledge of spells,” he whispered, “I defeated him because of you. When I left your room that night, I had a new reason to stop him. It had nothing to do with vengeance or death…it was about life. It was…I wanted…well, a life with you.” He smiled. Hermione couldn't help but feel hot around her ears and felt tears streaming down her face.

“This whole time the answer had been right in front of me; `a power the Dark Lord knows not.' Love. You.

“I love you, Hermione.”

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5. A Question

Before she could answer, or even get her wits about her, Harry leaned forward and placed a gentle kiss on her lips. She closed her eyes and pressed her lips back into his, losing herself in the warmth spreading throughout her body. Everything around them began to vanish and suddenly her mind was swimming in a haze. Hermione slid her tongue over Harry's lips and they parted. She had been waiting for this much longer than he had, and hastily darted her tongue into his mouth. She felt him sigh as their tongues mingled within him. The kiss deepened even further and she felt Harry place his hands on either side of her face, drawing her towards him. Her own hands clutched the front of his t-shirt.

They broke apart, gasping for air.

“…Harry…” she looked deeply into his eyes, “I love you too…” He crushed his lips against hers, pushing her onto her back. The feeling of his weight on her was delectable. She could feel his arousal against her thigh and moaned against his lips. They kissed in long, fiery waves. Hermione's hands roamed over Harry's back as his lips dipped from her lips to her chin and then wandered lower to her throat.

Finally! Her heart was screaming.

Harry suddenly stopped and Hermione let out a moan of disappointment. He cupped her cheek with his hand and watched her intently with his deep green eyes.

“What is it, Harry?”

“Marry me?” Her breath caught in her throat and she had to force her tears back. She reached out and tenderly slid her thumb over his lips.

“Of course.”

Harry practically leapt on her, pinning her to the ground with sweet kisses. His lips were soft against her, but earnest. She returned his kisses with a deep and long overdue passion. She suddenly felt Harry's hand on the clasp of her cloak.

Is he…?Hermione gasped. Harry pulled his mouth from hers and looked into her eyes.

“Do you want me to stop?” The look in his eyes told Hermione everything she needed to know. She answered him with another kiss. Suddenly all of those awkward nerves she once had about this moment were erased. She felt his hand trembling over her thigh and up her skirt to cup her buttocks. All of the sudden everything was funny. Hermione couldn't suppress her giggles as she felt his teeth nibble at her earlobe

Every fear she ever had about what to do in this situation vanished. It was Harry. None of it mattered any more. She felt him lifting her Muggle top over her head and raised her arms to oblige. She felt the most exquisite sensations as Harry's lips found hers again and then traveled lower to her jaw line, and farther still to her collar bone. Bolts of electricity shot through her body as she became aware of Harry's hand wandering between her thighs. She gripped a handful of Harry's dark hair and let a moan escape her lips as she felt him touch her through the thin material of her panties.

This was going to be much better than she had previously assumed…

This was going to be much better than studying…

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