One of These Days...

Dear Reader,

All right so this is the sequel to the first part, this one being titled, “Desperately” after another Michelle Branch song. I would first like to address some of the reviews I got, even though I thank everyone that actually did read and review. I didn't write the last scene in part one to be the perfect happy ending everyone would have liked, because it wasn't meant to be a very happy story from the getgo. I don't think every story should have one of those perfect happy endings to it…and just to let someone know, I am fully aware this is a H/Hr shipping site, I would have to be pretty dim not to know and besides, I am a huge H/Hr shipper, believe it or not.

Anyway, this part of the story is much longer than the other, twice as long I think and if you're expecting this to be nothing but fluff, sorry to tell you it's not. If you hate everything but fluffy goodness, then simply click the back button, but if you think you can handle tears, broken hearts, and guilt, then by all means proceed reading this, will you? Thanks.

Sincerely,

Ink.Slinger

× Desperately ×

(Six and a half months later…)

In a marriage it is usually the wife that expects and wants a special evening on the night of her and her husband's anniversary. For some reason, women are just more attracted to the idea of doing something exciting or romantic on the day of an anniversary. But, there are those rare cases where it's actually the husband that wants to do something special. And so it was this rare case with Benjamin Peterson and his wife Hermione.

Ben had gone through a lot of trouble for their upcoming ninth anniversary. He had begun planning for it months ahead, just after Christmas, wanting to make everything perfect for his wife. Their Christmas hadn't exactly gone very well, because for some reason Hermione was more unhappy than usual, despite Ben's constant attempts of cheering her up by buying her extravagant gift after extravagant gift.

And on July seventh, the actual night of their anniversary, the romantic evening Ben had spent over six months planning, was ruined. He and Hermione were supposed to go out for a nice and expensive candlelit dinner at a very famous bistro in London. But Hermione didn't show. Ben waited from five to seven for her, but she simply didn't show until a quarter to eight.

Hermione Peterson quietly shut the front door behind her, hoping that he wouldn't be too upset. If he were, she really didn't care very much. She knew that was very coldhearted, but the way Ben was so sensitive was beginning to annoy the living daylights out of her.

So as she shut the door quietly behind her and turned around to come face to face with her husband waiting for her, his arms crossed and his face inquisitive, she hardly looked sorry for it. Instead she avoided his eyes and headed towards the kitchen as if she weren't more than two hours late.

“Well?” Ben demanded, following her into the kitchen like some puppy following its owner.

“Well, what?” Hermione asked vaguely.

“Jane, we were supposed to go out, remember? It's our ninth anniversary,” he reminded. The poor gits voice was dramatic and hurt at the same time. He couldn't believe she was being this clueless and forgetful.

“Of course,” Hermione said in an unconvincingly shocked tone. She turned toward him, now looking somewhat apologetic. “I'm sorry, Ben, there's always next year. I'm quite tired; I'm heading up to bed. Night.”

She walked pass him without another word. Up the stairs she went, eager to get away from her husband. He watched her go, again so much like a puppy, this time a puppy that had just been abandoned.

“There's always next year…” he repeated under his breath as if stunned she had actually said this.

Hermione shut the bedroom door behind her, leaning against it as she sighed sadly, a few tears immediately leaking from her eyes as she thought of how miserable she was. She missed Him so much, and there wasn't an hour of a day where he didn't cross her mind. And there wasn't a single time in which she could remember one of their happy memories and not cry at least a few tears.

She wondered why she fell in love with Him. Why she had to love that man so much like she did. She knew that if Ben and he were reversed, she would have been able to move on from Ben and forget about him as long as Harry was her husband. But no matter how hard she tried, how many times she reminded herself that Ben was the perfect husband, she couldn't forget about Him.

“Why?” she whispered as she walked over to the closet and pulled out a silk nightgown to change into. Oh how many times she asked herself this, yet never ever even came close to getting an answer.

She changed out of her outfit and slipped the nightgown on just as Ben entered the room, the husband of hers looking put out. He ambled sadly to his side of the bed and collapsed down onto it.

“Jane,” he said.

“Hmmm…?” she replied. Nowadays, meaning ever since the day when she went to the train station to meet Him, she rarely really talked to Ben. She just couldn't pretend; she just couldn't force happiness.

“What's happening to us?” he asked.

She didn't answer so quickly. His voice sounded so sad. It made her angry with herself to think that she was the one doing this to him. She was the one leading him on when he was so desperately in love with her. She almost started crying at the thought of what she was doing to this poor man who had thought he had found his soul mate the day he said, “I do.”

“I - I don't know,” she answered.

“You don't know,” he repeated, “I don't either. You - You, I know you're hiding something from me, Janey. I know it. Please, please if there is anything that you're keeping from me, just tell me, we can get past it.”

Hermione wanted to tell him, “No, we can't, Ben,” but she didn't want to shatter Ben's heart into a million pieces. She knew all too well what that felt like. It had happened to her not once but twice.

“Nothing,” she said shortly.

“Then - Then why don't you smile anymore?” he asked. He stood up and walked over to her, and she saw with shame that he had tears in his eyes.

She was reminded strongly of how that was her. That was her the day Harry broke up with her in seventh year. That was her, the one with the tears in her eyes as she asked Harry what was wrong. And now it was Ben, and it almost killed her to think of how much she was hurting him right now.

“I'm so sorry, Ben,” she whispered suddenly and a few tears involuntarily left her eyes. It was the first time she was crying in front of him in months. Every time she had cried, which was everyday, she always did it in private, to keep it from him.

He quickly put his arms around her in comfort and let her cry on his shoulder, stroking her hair as she cried. That was just another thing perfect about him; how he always was there to comfort her.

“I love you, Jane, I love you so much and I want you to be happy,” he whispered in her ear. “I'll do anything so that you're happy…”

Hermione looked up from his shoulder and looked into his blue eyes, the same eyes that Erick, their son, had inherited. She tried to smile, she really did but she couldn't. She couldn't smile when she wasn't happy. She pushed him away, turned around and left the room without a word.

Why did she do this to him? Why couldn't she just appreciate Ben like he deserved to be appreciated? Or why couldn't she at least tell him the truth instead of doing this to him? At least then it'd be quicker and less painful for both of them if she did.

She ended up in the dimly lit family room of their home, standing next to the window as she stared at the starry sky. It was a wonderful summer night and the sky was an ocean of beautiful twinkling stars.

Out of nowhere, interrupting the silence of the house, the phone rang. Hermione looked over her shoulder and stared at the phone as it rang. That was strange, really strange. The only people that ever called was Ben's Muggle mother, and she wouldn't ever call past six, simply because she wasn't up that late. Rarely, very rarely did Hermione's own parents call their home. But that was it; no one else had ever called them before.

She realized staring at the phone wouldn't answer it, so she walked over to it, and after some hesitation, she picked it up. She expected it to be Ben's mother or at the very least, her own parents. But it wasn't.

“Hello,” Hermione said.

“'Mione,” said the voice on the other line.

She froze. She froze the instant that she had heard the word, `Mione'. There was only one person that called her that and that person was…Him.

Hermione hung up. She hung up because she couldn't think of anything else to do. She backed away from the phone, her eyes wide and her heart beating so fast. It was him; it was Harry's voice. She knew that voice. She could pick it out of a million different voices.

“Harry,” she whispered. Again, just like when he had sent her that letter last Christmas, Hermione felt a wave of different emotions, each as strong as the next.

She felt her usual happiness. The man she loved obviously loved her back. He was calling her now, which meant he desperately needed to speak with her. She knew he deep down loved her. Now if only he would actually tell her he did, she would spend forever in his arms. The happiness leaked away and was replaced by the sorrow, the sorrow of being married to a man that's name wasn't Harry Potter. And sorrow that Ben meant nothing to her compared to what she felt for Harry. As those two confusing emotions faded away, her anger and rage gushed through her. The bastard wanted to play with her emotions again. He wanted to toy with her and watch with satisfaction how she went out of her way, put her relationship with not only her husband but with her own son on the line just to meet Him. The jerk, the selfish, cruel, conniving jerk.

The phone rang again and Hermione quickly went to pick it up. Yes, she was desperate. She was desperate to hear his voice at the very least. It was her favorite sound in the world.

But as she did, Hermione didn't realize that she was being watched. From the midway of the staircase, Benjamin Peterson was standing and watching as his wife talked with the lover he knew had broken her heart almost eleven years ago. And as he watched her listen desperately to his voice, Ben realized that it all made sense now. It all really did make sense.

× × ×

“Eat your breakfast, darling,” Hermione ordered as she cleared the table of Ben's full and completely untouched breakfast plate and her own empty breakfast plate.

He hadn't come down for breakfast and Hermione knew that he wouldn't want any by now. He had to leave soon. She just wondered why he was taking so long to come down.

“Okay,” Erick replied. His face was covered with marmalade and toast crumbs, not to mention smooshed blueberry from the muffin he had just eaten. He took another sloppy bite out of his muffin and asked, “Mum, where's daddy? Is he feeling okay?”

“Huh? Oh, yeah…err, he's just running a bit late. Don't worry about it, sweetie, just finish your breakfast,” Hermione said in a cheery voice. That was the only time when she was able to be cheery, when she was with Erick. She had to be. She was his mother and she loved him so very much.

“Who called last night, mum?” Erick asked.

“What?” she asked in return. She was surprised that Erick had heard the phone.

“Was it Grandma Betsy?” he wondered, “Why'd she call so late, mum? It was way past her old lady bedtime.”

Hermione smiled. He was so adorable, yet too inquisitive for his own good. But she supposed that was a good thing. She could tell already that he was going to be very much like her intellectually wise when he grew older.

“Don't worry about it,” she told him and kissed him reassuringly on the forehead before heading into the kitchen again, leaving him alone. She dumped out Ben's plate of breakfast and began washing the plates, utensils, pots and pans. Then, realizing how silly and out of it she was, she pulled out her wand and cast a charm so that they would magically wash themselves. Even after knowing she was a witch for more than half her life, she still sometimes forgot that you could use magic for such simple things.

The kitchen door opened and Ben came in. He looked like he hadn't gotten much sleep. Hermione could tell he wasn't in the best mood. She wondered if he was still upset about their supposed-to-be-spectacular anniversary turning out to be a disaster.

“Morning, honey,” she said cheerfully. She surprised herself. Her voice was actually happy. She was relieved it was. She didn't want to disappoint Ben anymore.

He didn't say anything, though. That worried her. He must have been really angry if he didn't reply with his usual, “Morning, love.”

“What's wrong?” Hermione asked. Now it seemed that the roles were reversed. She was acting more like the normal Ben while he was acting more like her.

“You don't want to know,” he remarked mysteriously. He poured himself a cup of tea and took a quick sip.

Hermione frowned. Her eyebrows rose in question. Now what in the bloody hell was he talking about? She rolled her eyes in annoyance. How sensitive could one person be? She had ruined their ninth anniversary, she got that, but really, how long was he going to play the part of the emotionally upset husband? Boohoo, she thought, someone should have gotten him a damn tissue to dry those tears.

“Why? What's that supposed to mean?”

“You tell me,” he shot back, again mysteriously.

“Chee, Ben, you're really making sense this morning,” Hermione said sarcastically.

He again remained silent. Hermione expected him to retort back with something. In fact, she was very disappointed and worried when he didn't. She began to wonder if maybe it wasn't just the anniversary disaster, maybe it was the fact that he was just getting tired of the way she was treating him. She couldn't blame him if he were. She knew she would be.

“Ben, is everything all right?” she asked concernedly.

He put down his mug of tea very hard, the mug making a loud thud as it collided with the countertop. He put both of his hands on the countertop and bowed his head as he thought critically. Hermione stood there, watching, waiting a little too urgently for his next words.

More than a minute passed. She watched his face, the way his eyes were shut tight, as if he were trying to repress something. A few strands of his usually kempt hair were hanging down in front of his face, but he didn't seem to care. She had never seen him like this. Maybe he really was sick of her. Despite all of the bad feelings she had been experiencing for him in the past six months, she was suddenly worried that he was sick of her. What would she honestly do if both of the men that had loved her abandoned her? She didn't have Harry and she realized that Ben was all she had; she had to hold onto him. It was better than being alone.

“Ben?” she said to interrupt the frightening pause. She stepped closer to him and put her hand on his arm to get his attention. The second her hand touched his arm he jerked it away, staring at her as if she were a stranger. “Ben? What's wrong?” she asked fearfully.

“Just forget it,” he said once more distantly, his eyes alight with an emotion she had never seen him wear when he looked at her, disappointment, disgust. He backed away until he reached the door, shoved it open and left without a word.

She didn't get it, but then again did she ever really? It seemed like she didn't. She took a few steps back, eventually hitting the counter, but she didn't even notice. Tears left her eyes, ran down her cheeks and fell to the floor. That was certainly something new. She was crying over Ben. Suddenly she noticed she was shaking. She really was scared.

“What's going on?” she whispered as her eyes scanned the kitchen, almost as if she thought the answer to this question was written somewhere on the counter or the walls, or as if it were on the floor waiting for her to find it.

It wasn't, though, that's when she slid to the floor and collapsed completely with cries. She certainly hadn't cried this hard since the day at the train station, and the thing was, she didn't really understand why.

After a few sobs, the thought of how selfish she was entered her mind. And she really was, she had never realized this before, but she really was. It seemed all she ever thought about was herself, always feeling sorry for herself, always fixating on the two heartbreaks she had suffered from the love of her life. She never stopped to think, what about Ben?

What about him? She loved the man, yes, but she couldn't think about him when she was so depressed. He was a grown man, he could feel sorry for himself on his own time. The better question was, what about her? She was the one brokenhearted here!

“I am,” she whispered, “I'm selfish and I'm cruel. Poor Ben, what am I putting you through?”

Could she really help it? What exactly was she supposed to do? She couldn't pretend she was so madly in love with him. It was not only unfair to him but it was unfair to herself. And she couldn't ask for a divorce. Poor Erick, it would crush him if they split up. There seemed to be no right answer.

It was so twisted and tangled, so complicated that it made her head hurt to think about it for too long. More than ten minutes had passed, and she didn't even realize this until the kitchen door opened and Erick came walking inside.

“Mum?” he said confusedly. He looked scared when he saw her on the floor, her face tear-stained. He had never seen his mother like this. “Mum, are you all right?” he asked, “What's going on? Why was dad so upset this morning?”

Whoa, he was so curious. Usually she found it cute, but at the moment it was prying and a tad irritating. She stood up, a little shaky at first, and wiped her eyes with the sleeve of her shirt.

“Erick, go upstairs,” she said simply. It wasn't a suggestion, it was a command. He didn't budge, though, he was way too curious to leave now. “GO UPSTAIRS!” she shouted, surprising herself. She had never yelled at him like that before.

He jumped in surprise as well and gave her a gaze mixed with alarm, dislike and sadness. He turned away, nevertheless, and obediently left the kitchen without a single word.

Now look at what she had done. She was yelling at her poor son for no reason. It upset her so much she wanted to cry some more. Erick had only asked a few questions. He didn't deserve to be yelled at. He was just being himself, a young and inquisitive little boy.

“I hate this,” she muttered to herself, “I hate this so much. I don't know what to do. I don't even know what's right to do anymore.”

She couldn't stand this any longer. She just couldn't.

× × ×

Ring. Ring. Ring. Ring.

Hermione ran and picked it up, smiling when it was Harry. This was the third time in less than a day that he had phoned her, the second time she was actually speaking to him. The first had been very rushed and hadn't lasted for longer than a minute. He had had to hang up for some reason.

“Harry,” she breathed excitedly, “You called again.”

“Sorry I couldn't speak much with you last night, `Mione,” Harry said, every single word he spoke being treasured by Hermione. The sound of his voice was so comforting, especially when she had just spent half her day in sobs. “How are you doing?”

He was so thoughtful. Of course Ben would've asked the same, but it meant more coming from Harry. She smiled wider before she remembered now would be a good time to answer his question before he began wondering if she had left the phone.

“I'm - I'm,” she stuttered, searching for the words, “I'm doing okay.”

“What's wrong?” he asked. He knew there was something wrong. He knew her better than he knew anything.

“Nothing, Harry. Nothing. L-Look, I really have to go. I mean I have to take Erick to daycare. Err, I'll talk to you again…sometime,” she said a little hurriedly. She didn't know why she was doing this. She didn't know why she was ending the conversation with the man she loved. She had waited years to speak with him and now she was ending it with barely even a hello being said.

She figured it was her guilt. It didn't feel right to talk to him when she was married. Even if it was just talking, it still felt like she was betraying Ben and she never betrayed anyone. Despite everything, she still felt loyalty to Ben. The ring on her finger meant she had to.

“Oh, okay,” Harry said. He paused before he asked, “That daycare is in Diagon, right?”

“Yes,” she replied nervously. Why was she nervous? It was just a question.

“Then why don't I meet you there? We can have a cup of tea or something,” he suggested, “Don't worry, just tea, you know, to catch up…as friends.”

Friends? Great, that's what she always wanted, the love of her life to be only her friend. She almost sighed as she reminded herself what was she expecting him to say? `Why don't we meet to have an affair or something? Don't worry, just an affair, you know, because we're in love with each other and you're married.' That was a little farfetched.

“S-Sure,” she said strangely, “Erm, I'll meet you there in what thirty minutes at that café across from the Daily Prophet office?”

“Sounds good. Ron's busy with work today or else maybe he could have come, too. You know the three of us haven't been together in eleven years,” Harry said sadly.

“Oh I know, I know, it's just dreadful. I have to go now. See you. Bye.” She hung up the phone and exhaled a breath to calm herself. She really did get much too upset about everything lately.

She walked over to the foot of the stairs and called, “Erick! Erick, are you ready for daycare?”

As she waited for Erick to finish putting on his coat and to fetch the bag she had fixed for him full of a snack and some toys for him to play with his friends there, she paced around the length of the family room fidgeting.

Harry and her weren't going to be friends again she knew that. They couldn't. They just simply couldn't return to being the best friends they were before seventh year when they started dating. It was all or nothing with them, and at that moment it looked like it was going to be all.

Here she went again, she regretfully thought, about to meet Harry once more behind the back of Ben. If he found out, she couldn't imagine how betrayed he'd feel. She could see the look of disgust and disgrace on his face now. She froze once this thought crossed her mind. She had already seen the look of disgust and disgrace on his face earlier, the way he had looked at her before he left. He looked at her as if he were truly, truly disgusted with her.

Now she was scared. Did he think she was cheating on him? That was the only explanation for the way he was acting that morning. She gasped as she apprehended that Ben really did think she was committing infidelity on him.

“Ready!” Erick said. His squeaky, high-pitched voice made her jump. She realized it was only him. “What's wrong?” he asked her with a frown. He saw the look on her face and he knew she was doing some important thinking.

“Nothing, Erick. So you're ready? Okay, let's go.” She grabbed his hand and led the way outside into the fresh summer day to catch the Portkey.

She remained very quiet as her and Erick walked to the Portkey, and Erick guessed that her silence meant she wasn't in much of a mood for any talking or listening at all. He wondered why his mother was acting the way she was.

The moment they arrived in front of the daycare in Diagon Alley, Hermione looked down at her son with a really tiny smile on her face and reminded him to behave himself and remember that she would come get him at five o' clock.

“Yes, mum,” he said. He smiled warmly at her and turned to enter the daycare along with a few other children his age.

From there she headed straight to the small, dinky café that she had agreed to meet Harry in. She looked at her wristwatch and discovered she was five minutes early. She sat down at the nearest table near the door and looked out the window as she waited for him to appear.

“May I get you something, ma'am?” asked the waitress, a very young looking woman that had white blonde hair down to her elbows.

“Err, a cup of tea is fine,” Hermione replied distantly.

Just as the woman walked away she saw him turn the corner of the road the café was on. Her mouth opened slightly as she felt as if she were falling in love with him all over again.

He still looked the same. Not much had changed about him. He was maybe an inch taller, a little more muscular, and his face was a bit unshaven, as if he hadn't shaved in a few days. But she found it attractive; he looked more handsome to her than ever.

Harry opened the café door and she dropped her eyes onto the menu on the table, to pretend like she hadn't been watching him approach so eagerly. He dropped down into the chair across from her.

She bravely looked up at him, her face glowing red when her eyes met his. The way he was staring at her was the same way she had just been staring at him. He was looking at her as if he couldn't believe he was sitting with her, and as if he found her more beautiful and attractive than when they were together eleven years ago.

He smiled as he said, “Wow, it's kind of weird to be here.”

“Yeah, I know,” Hermione agreed, smiling as well. She was suddenly relieved and for a second she thought she was a teenager again talking to her best friend Harry in the library or something.

“You haven't changed,” he remarked as a compliment, “You're still the Hermione I remember.”

“Not exactly, I'm a mother now remember,” Hermione reminded proudly.

“Yeah, you are. How's Erick doing?” Harry asked. He looked really interested. “Ron and Ginny have both told me he's like a young you.”

Hermione chuckled. She couldn't believe she had gone this long without talking to him. It was horrible that he had never met Erick; Hermione knew Erick would just love him.

“He is but he's a little too curious sometimes…kind of like Ron,” Hermione said. She hesitated asking her next question, the question that was on her mind. “You - You don't have any children, do you?”

Apparently this was funny. He laughed. “Me? No,” Harry said, “It isn't right to bring children into the world unless it's with someone you love.”

“Um…right.”

Awkward, awkward seconds passed.

“How's Ben?” Harry wondered, breaking the small pause.

“Uhhh…B-Ben?” Hermione stuttered.

“Yes.”

“He's fine,” she said. Now she was nervous again. Great.

The waitress returned and interrupted Hermione's nervous thoughts. She set down the cup of tea Hermione had ordered and asked Harry if he cared for anything. Harry also ordered a simple, plain cup of tea.

“Look, `Mione,” Harry said suddenly as the waitress walked away, “I think you should know I'm sorry. I'm sorry about the train station…I'm sorry that I was late. I didn't mean to stand you up; I'd never do that to you. I can't imagine how pissed off you must have been.”

Pissed off wasn't exactly the right word. Hurt was more like it. Hermione didn't say a thing, she just stared into the tea she had ordered and suddenly didn't feel like drinking it anymore. She remained silent until a question occurred to her. She wondered if she should ask it, it wasn't a very polite question to ask. It could easily be misunderstood, as a question a bitter person would ask. But she decided to take a chance and ask him. She wanted to be the one asking the questions now.

“So why'd you wait so long?” she asked bluntly, not even looking at him when she asked it but still at the tea.

It was his turn to squirm as he thought of a proper answer. At least his eyes never left her, which meant he wasn't really nervous about answering the question, he was just having trouble putting his reason into words. Besides, he couldn't have taken his eyes off of her even if he wanted to; he had never seen a more beautiful woman before.

“You were right back then, `Mione, eleven years ago. You were completely right about me. I was afraid. I was a coward. I couldn't handle the thought of commitment. I've never said it to anyone. Never. I-I just panicked, I couldn't say it. I felt it, I know I did, but saying it would be…I dunno…it's hard to explain. The thought of spending the rest of my life with someone, it was scary. I never expected to - to feel for anyone the way I feel about you. I never even really thought I'd live past eighteen, to tell you the truth,” he explained deeply and honestly, “I know it doesn't excuse what I did. I know that. It was low and unforgivable for doing that to you. I hate myself for doing it, `Mione. I never wanted to hurt you…”

Wow, she thought, that certainly wasn't the response she was expecting. She hadn't expected him to just pour his heart and soul out to her like that. He usually never did and the fact that he just had was certainly proof that he was ready to open up to her.

She looked up at him from her cup of tea and smiled. It meant a lot to her that he was finally telling her the truth, what he really felt. She looked over her right shoulder where some of the Diagon Alley shops were visible through the window.

“C'mon,” she suggested, “Let's take a walk. Get some fresh air.”

“Huh?” he said, befuddled. “What about the-“

“This should cover it, plus a tip,” Hermione interrupted. She reached into her pocket and pulled out a Galleon. She dropped it onto the table and grabbed Harry's hand to pull him up from his seat.

“You know I could have paid for it myself,” Harry said as he let her steer him out of the café.

“I know,” Hermione replied simply and she smirked at him again.

They walked down the breezy Diagon Alley sidewalk, side by side as if it were the good old days when they went to shops together, chatting about anything, laughing about too many things to begin to name. Of course Ron was missing, but it was still refreshing to both of them to be reunited at last.

All of the guilt that had been like such a heavy burden on her shoulders was lifted as she walked down that sidewalk, talking with Harry and laughing now and then. She almost forgot who Benjamin Peterson was actually.

“Remember that book signing with Lockhart?” Harry teased as they passed Flourish and Botts, “I remember all too clearly how loud those dreamy sighs were every time he smiled. You weren't the only one of course, those women would have fought to the death just to shake the blokes hand.”

“Yeah, I know,” Hermione agreed with a silly smile, “I don't even know why I fancied him. Merlin, that was stupid of me. His smile wasn't even that great. He acted like he had the best smile in the world. Ugh, his arrogance was so irritating.”

“I know who does,” Harry said cheekily. He winked at her and nudged her playfully.

“Oh shut it. Let's not forget about how every git in Hogwarts, including you, thought Fleur Delacour was the most amazingly beautiful woman that ever graced this planet,” Hermione reminded smartly.

“True…I was only fourteen, though, and at least I didn't ask her to the Ball or anything…like Ron,” he laughed.

The two were too busy laughing that they didn't even notice they had reached the very end of Diagon Alley where the junk shop was just next to the bunch of thick oak trees and the chipped stone bench.

Hermione sat down on it and looked up at Harry. She was again overwhelmed with the thought of how attractive he was. He looked so perfect, the way his eyes were alive with laughter and the way his still unruly hair was highlighted gold from the light of the sun. She was so ridiculously attracted to the man she wanted to just kiss him fervently right there, she didn't care who saw or what consequences it would have. She didn't care at that moment, anyway.

Harry sat down next to her a second later. He didn't look like he wanted to laugh very much anymore. He looked like he had something very important on his mind. Something that he yearned to tell her and she could guess what that something was. It was just a little difficult for him as he tried to gain that Gryffindor courage to tell her he loved her. It was a very hard thing to do, to tell someone you loved them and it would be the first time he ever said it to anyone.

She waited patiently for what she knew was coming. She listened to the gusts of the wind and stared at the beauty of the summer scenery around her. Everything was just so perfect when she was with her soul mate.

“'Mione, I want to tell you,” he said through the quiet, “I'm ready to tell you. I know you're married and you're happy, and you have Erick. I don't expect you to feel obligated to me in any way. It's my fault we didn't end up together and - and I accept that…but I just won't be able to rest ever again until I tell you how much you mean to me.”

It was adorable to her, simply adorable. He was so nervous, she could tell and he looked so desperate to tell her it almost made her want to laugh. This was just another one of those zillion reasons why she loved him. He was so incredibly cute when he was nervous. Again she noticed how much she craved to grab him and pull him into the deepest kiss ever, but she resisted of course.

“You mean a lot to me. You always have and you always will. What else can I say but that you're amazing and you're the most incredible, beautiful, smart woman I've ever met. I know you care about me and you were with me through everything. That by itself means the world to me. Err, I - I just…I love you so much. It's taken so long to tell you, but it's all straight from my heart and soul. I'm in love with you,” he prattled still timidly.

“Oh Harry,” Hermione whispered, tears in her eyes, “I love you too. You're my soul mate.”

Harry grinned at her as he gently wiped away her tears with his thumb. She smiled back at him gratefully. Slowly, about as slow as a turtle, the two drifted closer to each other, as they knew what was coming next.

They kissed on the lips, lightly at first, more of a quick friendship kiss before it escalated. Both of them were aware of what they were doing, but neither of them knew how to pull away. Hermione's arms wrapped around Harry's neck as the kiss deepened.

She was desperate for this. She had waited so long to kiss him like this again. She loved the wonderful tingling sensation that filled throughout her body, the familiar feeling that she had always experienced on a daily basis back when they were together. This feeling, the wonderful indescribable feeling, was a feeling of nothing else…it was magical and it was uplifting, it was a feeling that made her fears, her worries, her troubles go away. It was a feeling that she couldn't give up again; she just couldn't.

His kiss was like a drug. He himself was like a drug and she was far too addicted to just give him up, to pull away from this kiss even though she knew it would be the right thing to do.

Hermione parted her lips to allow his tongue to enter, knowing that this would intensify the kiss that much more. Harry's tongue entered her mouth a second later, and began exploring inside.

Wait, Harry suddenly realized as he kissed her, yes, he was madly in love with her and yes, he wanted her so badly here and now, but no, it wasn't right. It wasn't and they couldn't justify what was happening here, they couldn't use the excuse that they were in love. They were, but she was also married with a son, an innocent little boy that would hate his mother forever if he knew what she was doing.

Harry's tongue left her mouth and a second later he had pulled away, standing as he did and taking a few steps away. He ran a hand through his hair as he closed his eyes to think.

“Harry,” Hermione said, her voice urgent and raspy. That meant she was about to cry. She couldn't believe he had ended their kiss so abruptly. She wondered what was wrong now. She stood as well and walked over to be next to him. “What's wrong?” she asked.

“'Mione, go get Erick, go home…be with Ben,” Harry said shortly.

“What?”

“Go be with him, you belong with him,” Harry told her, looking far into the distance rather than in her eyes.

“No, no don't tell me where I belong. I know where I belong and I belong right here in your arms, with you, nowhere else. I love you, you love me, why can't we just be together already?” she asked.

“Because - Because it can't just happen that way.”

“Why can't you just let us be happy together?” she shouted, suddenly forgetting about her potential tears and now wanting to scream at the top of her lungs. “WHY CAN'T YOU JUST LET US BE TOGETHER? WHY CAN'T WE JUST BE HAPPY?”

Harry sighed, replying, “Because this isn't a fairytale, it's real life.”

She stared at him in disbelief, her eyes still shining with the same tears but her body shaking with anger. She looked down at the floor and exhaled a breath. Okay, she was done with this. That's right, she was. She was finished, done, over with it. She was tired of it and if he wanted her to be with Ben, she was certainly not going to look back his way ever again, she vowed.

“Fine,” she snarled furiously, “But don't you dare, dare ever contact me again. I don't ever want to see you again. I'm tired of you doing this to me. I can't do this anymore…I can't come running when you call, Harry. I can't. So if you want me to go this time, I'm going. But I'm not coming back; I can't play these games anymore. You're right, this is life and life may not be a fairytale but it also isn't a game either.”

Hermione walked away. This was the third time she was doing it and she firmly told herself it really would be the last. Harry watched her walk away, his face hurt and his mind buzzing with thoughts. He wondered why he had morals. If only, if only he had no morals, that'd be just perfect…

× × ×

That night Hermione was determined to be the wife Ben deserved. She cooked a very splendid dinner, even if it was the magical way. Once she had put Erick to bed, she changed into an elegant, crimson red dress, pulling back her usual bushy hair into a tight, sleek bun. She looked simply beautiful and graceful.

She waited for Ben to show so that they could begin their very special evening. She knew this could possibly even make up for the disaster their ninth anniversary was.

But apparently Ben was running late for once. He was usually always home by seven but tonight he wasn't. Soon it was well past eight and he was nowhere to be seen. Hermione waited, nonetheless, concluding that he was probably running terribly late, there was probably a lot to do at work that day and the fact that it was raining hard outside didn't help.

As eight wasted away and the clock struck nine, Hermione realized he was doing this on purpose. He was still furious with her and she wondered if he was too disgusted with her to even come home anymore. She blew out the candles she had lit in the dining room and dumped the lovely and quite delicious-looking dinner in the sink.

This really seemed to be the story of how life now, crying over men and feeling heartbroken. It was sad to think that now even Ben was doing this to her.

She walked into the family room and stopped right next to the phone. Her eyes stared at the phone and only at the phone. She wished he'd call; she wanted him to ask for her to meet him again. She knew she would, even if she had vowed never to do it again. She would because she loved him desperately and she'd do anything for him. Hermione could never not see him again; she had only said that because she was furious at the time, but deep down she always knew she would go running to him just as fast the moment he called, anywhere, anyplace.

The front door opened and she heard the footsteps of Ben as he finally came home. She lifted her gaze from the phone and went out to the door to meet him, curious to see if maybe he really had been very busy at work.

“Ben!” she exclaimed, “Where have you been? Were you busy at work?”

He didn't answer. He took off his soaked coat and walked around her, in the direction of the family room. She followed him at his heels, hoping the old Ben would suddenly appear, the Ben that was always smiling and loving her. She was beginning to miss that Ben.

“Well?” she demanded.

He said nothing still as he walked over to the sofa and sat down. She watched him from where she stood. He looked like he was thinking hard about something again.

“I don't know what you expect,” he said suddenly.

“What?”

“I don't know what you expect me to say to you,” he told her, finally meeting her eyes. The look in them were dull, they were no longer bright and jovial like they were before.

“Erm, tell me about your day,” Hermione said with a smile. She walked over to him and sat down next to him. She wanted him to return and she wanted him to help her move on.

“Actually, I have a better idea. Why don't you tell me about yours?”

“Oh. All right. It wasn't that interesting. I mostly spent the day reading,” she lied. She noticed he was watching her as she said this, and she wondered if Ben would know she was lying. He did love her, he knew her very well, inside and out, he most likely could tell if she were.

“Amazing,” he said mockingly, “Very interesting. VERY, VERY INTERESTING!”

She realized that he was indeed very angry with her. She rolled her eyes and stood up from the sofa, no longer desiring to speak with him any longer.

“That's great, Ben, yell…wake up Erick so he can worry even more about us. He knows something's wrong…” she said, crossing her arms.

“Knows? Knows? So there is something wrong.”

“Yes, there is!” Hermione said. She turned right around and looked him straight in the face. “But that doesn't mean Erick has to know, stop shouting.”

“OH, I'M SORRY!” Ben yelled now even louder, “That's right…you love keeping things from people, right? That's what you do.”

“What are you talking about?”

“I'm talking about everything you've been keeping from me, Jane, everything.” And suddenly he looked like he wanted to cry. He covered his face with his hands and sighed shakily. “I thought we were happy.”

She frowned as she realized an argument with Ben was probably the last thing she needed. But she couldn't walk away now, she had to make sure he knew that she hadn't been cheating on him, even if she had kissed Harry, it was only once.

“We were.” She felt like crying again, for the billionth time this week.

“Then what changed? Tell me that…please…what happened?”

Hermione sighed and unfolded her arms as she looked around for a convenient scapegoat. She couldn't find one. She looked back at Ben, as she knew she had to tell him the truth. Maybe the truth really would set her free.

“Ha-Harry wrote me before Christmas. He wanted to see me, he wanted to tell me what he couldn't before,” Hermione explained in honesty and tears, “I didn't know…I didn't know if I should go. I thought about it hard, I really did. I knew it would be like betraying you and Erick, but I-I still love him and I had to see him again.”

“You still love him…” Ben repeated.

“I went but he didn't show. I was heartbroken, just like in seventh year. I cried and I cried, and I knew then I did need him. I couldn't pretend anymore. I knew I wanted to-to be with him forever, Ben. I love him. He's my soul mate. He's my true love.” The words left her mouth one after the other; she didn't really even have a chance to think about them.

Ben looked crushed; he looked like her at the train station six months ago. He was obviously fighting back the tears that wanted to escape so badly. He asked in a croaking voice, “And you've been seeing him, haven't you? He's been calling here and you've been-been meeting him. The night of our anniversary…”

“NO!” she replied in a shout, “I wasn't with him that night.”

“THAT NIGHT?” Ben yelled back, “Excuse me…that night, you weren't with him THAT night? So exactly how many nights were you with him?” He stood now so that he wouldn't have to shout sitting.

“NONE!” she screamed loudly, surprising even herself.

“How could you do this to us? How could you ruin our life like this? You've ruined everything and for what? For some arsehole that didn't care about you enough to tell you he loved you?” Ben said, “He doesn't love you and he never will…can't you see that? He just wanted to finish the job he started, he wanted to get in your pants! And it looks like he succeeded!”

Hermione smacked Ben across the face. She was fuming now, absolutely seething that he had even had the audacity to think that she would cheat on him like nothing, multiple times and question Harry's love for her. Harry loved her more than anything, Harry would die a thousand times for her. He was the arsehole; he was the jerk for insulting her Harry.

“I have never slept with Harry. I can't believe you'd think that,” she said indignantly, “I swear to you I haven't. If you don't believe me, then go to hell, Ben.”

“I don't believe you,” he admitted, his cheek red from where she had slapped him. “And I can't believe you've really betrayed me like this. I love you and this is how you treat me? I'd do anything for you. I thought you felt the same.”

“I thought I did, too,” she remarked, “But I was hurt, I was looking for something to help me get over him. I married you because of that. I love you, Ben, I do but I don't love you like you love me. I love Harry like you love me. That's not going to change. He has my heart and he always, always will.”

Ben stared straight into her eyes as he took a few steps closer, so that they were now face to face. He kept his gaze as he asked, “We can start over. We can move away, far away from Potter and all of this. We could forget this. I can forgive you. Come away with me. It'll just be Erick, you and me, forever. We can still be happy. I know we can.”

She looked into his eyes as he proposed this. She saw the desperation in his eyes and she knew that if she did go away with him, the three of them would have a new chance. They could really start over and maybe have a happily ever after. It was very much possible.

“Or,” Ben continued, “…Or you can go be with Him. You can go be with him and be used for everything he wants from you. Then, after he dumps you and leaves you all alone again, you will be left to cry yourself to sleep because I won't be there to pick up your shattered heart and I won't be there to love you.”

Hermione wiped the tears from her eyes with both her hands as she looked away from Ben. Her eyes went from the phone to the staircase to check in case Erick was listening, then finally to the door. She knew what she had to do. She knew what was right.

“So what is it?” he persistently asked, “A new start or a divorce and another broken heart?”

It was time to tell him what her choice was. She knew he deserved to know now. She also knew what was right. She brought her hand to his cheek, caressing it lightly.

Ben smiled at her. He knew she'd make the right choice.

“Ben,” Hermione said quietly, looking him straight in the eyes as she said this, “I love you. I love you so much. And…and a part of me always will love you regardless. But I love Harry more. Plain and simple. I love Harry more than anything in this world, and I need to be with him. We deserve to be together. We belong together, Ben. You're a great man and I'm sorry for hurting you like this, I know what it feels like and I know it's something that no one should go through, but Harry owns my heart. Maybe if I had met you first, things would be differently, but I met Harry first and I fell in love. You can't fall out of a love so powerful. You can't. So…so goodbye, Ben. We can talk about joint-custody of Erick tomorrow. Right now, right now I need to be with someone.”

She removed her hand from his cheek and headed straight for the door without another word. Ben watched her go, stunned that she hadn't chosen to start over new with him.

Hermione knew where she was going. She was going to be with Harry, the man she belonged with. She didn't care that it was raining out and she didn't care that she hadn't brought any coat or cloak. That didn't matter. A cold or the flu was worth it if she got to be happy at last.

Harry was sitting in the dimness of his flat, a copy of the Daily Prophet in his lap as he read one of the latest articles that Hermione had written. He smiled as he read it. She was so brilliant, another thing to add to the incredibly long list of things he loved about her.

He looked up at the clock as it chimed ten. He sighed and wished he weren't thinking about her like this, but she was always on his mind no matter what he did. She was always going to be a part of him.

Knock. Knock. Knock.

Who could be knocking on his door at this time? And the knocks were desperate, not slow and patient. They sounded as if the person outside really needed to see him right away. He tossed aside the newspaper and walked over to the front door. He opened it, expecting it to be someone confused of who lived here or maybe Ron and Neville coming to visit at the very least, but he was wrong.

The moment he opened that door the person on the other side of it threw herself into his arms. He was confused at first as he held this soaked woman in his arms. He realized it was Hermione a second later.

“Hermione?” he said confusedly.

She said nothing; instead she grabbed him by the shirt, pulling him into her as she kissed him passionately and lovingly. She had never kissed anyone like this. It was a kiss like the world was going to end tomorrow.

Harry didn't kiss her back at first. He was shocked and puzzled. He had no idea what was going on. He didn't know why Hermione had come to his apartment at ten in the night, drenched wet in a once-elegant dinner dress just to kiss him.

Hermione pulled away from Harry and looked into his bemused emerald eyes. She smiled as she did. He was even handsome when he was confused. It almost felt like they were teenagers again, barely confessing their love to each other for the first time.

Harry smiled at her, too, as he realized what had happened. He brushed away the wet strand of hair in her face and said calmly, “I read your article about the corruption still existing within the Ministry. I thought it was brilliant, `Mione.”

“Thanks, Harry,” she replied.

With his foot, Harry kicked shut the front door. He didn't want to let the cold inside; his future-wife was soaking wet and he didn't want her to catch anything.

“Are you cold?” he asked her.

She nodded, still with a smile, and let Harry whisk her away, out of the very chilly living room and into the much warmer bedroom.

She knew things hadn't turned out so well for Ben, but she knew it would have been worse if she continued to lie to him. The truth hurt but lies hurt more.

She was also aware that explaining everything to Erick would be a challenge all its own, but she was prepared to face that challenge. Erick would understand, she knew he would, and he would come to love Harry as a second father. He would be lucky; he'd have three parents.

This was her happy ending. It wasn't exactly perfect, Ben had gotten hurt and it had taken eleven long years to happen, not to mention a lot of guilt and pain involved, but it was happening now. She was right. It would happen one of these days, and that day had come at last.

And it felt good to be happy. It felt good to be with Him.

× Finis ×

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