One of These Days...
by xink_slingerx

Rating: PG
Ship: Harry & Hermione
Canon: Books 1 - 5
Genre: Angst, Romance
Status: Complete
Length: 13,813 words in 2 chapters
Published: 16 May 2005
Last updated: 22 May 2005

Two part future fic. Dear `Mione, It's been a while, hasn't it? Ten years, five months, and twenty-one days
actually…look I know you're probably about to tear this letter up right now after what ended up happening between us,
but don't…at least not yet. I know you've gotten over me, I know you're in fact married right now, but I need to talk to
you. Please. I know I've been the biggest prat imaginable, but there's something I need to tell you. I'm finally ready
to tell you, `Mione. I'm going home for the holidays from Hogwarts and I'll be taking the train at the Hogsmeade station
to my house. I was thinking before I get on, maybe we could meet there tomorrow at eleven. I know I'm asking so much,
but I need to talk to you. Things haven't felt right for ten years. Let me make them right. --Harry

From the Unofficial Portkey Archive: https://portkey-archive.org/story/4313/

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1. One of These Days

Dear Reader,

This is a future one-shot fic, the title and story based off of the song by Michelle Branch. Harry broke Hermione's
heart, and now ten years later, he writes a letter to her asking her to meet him. The only problem is Hermione's happily
married with a son named Erick. Should she go meet the man that deep down really owns her heart? Or should she tear up
the letter and remain faithful to her husband and son?

Please know that any reviews are greatly appreciated. Thank you.

Sincerely,

Ink.Slinger

~~× One of These Days

The End of the Year Feast started at just about six o' clock in the evening. Hermione Jane Granger had made it
punctually to the feast for six years straight until the year of her seventh, her final year. Instead of sitting at the
front of the Gryffindor table waiting for the Headmaster Albus Dumbledore to make his End of the Year speech, she was
outside on the Hogwarts grounds having her heart broken.

She hadn't known she was going to have her heart broken. She had been asked by her longtime boyfriend Harry Potter to
take a walk and “talk”, as he put it, and she had agreed to accompany him; mainly because she was too eager, too
desperate to have an opportunity to spend with her boyfriend. It had seemed that in the past few months they were
drifting apart.

The two of them headed outside the castle, Hermione mightily glad when Harry took hold of her hand and intertwined his
fingers with hers. She couldn't remember the last time he had held her hand like this. She found herself smiling warmly
at him as they walked aimlessly across the grassy lawns.

She had actually through all of her momentary joy, noticed Harry seemed distracted somehow. Like he was too wrapped up
in his own thoughts to notice the bliss he was making his girlfriend feel just by simply holding her hand. He didn't
realize just taking a walk with her would make her so happy; that's how lost in thought he really was.

When more than ten minutes passed and he had not said anything, Hermione decided she'd take things into her own hands.
She stopped walking just near the school lake, making him stop and come out of his critical thinking.

“Harry,” she had said, her voice inquisitive, “What's going on? Is everything okay?”

At that point Harry wasn't the only one that came back to reality. Hermione seemed to have a sudden epiphany about what
was really happening around her. The happiness seeped away, and that was replaced by fear; fear of the unknown about
just what Harry had brought her on a walk for. He had not taken her on a walk in ages and now that he finally did, she
realized it wasn't one of those tranquil couple walks; it was a `We-Need-To-Talk' walk.

“Look, `Mione, I think we need to talk,” Harry replied. He took both of her hands in his; Hermione's fear deepened.
Harry was staring down at the grass below, petrified to look into his girlfriend's eyes as he did this.

“About w-what?” Hermione asked cautiously.

“I dunno, `Mione, I know what I want to say…I just don't know how to say it,” he said with difficulty. He sighed, at
last braving a look up into her brown eyes. His emerald one's were for once hard to read for her. “I just think
maybe…perhaps we should break up.”

“Break up?” Hermione asked quickly. She tried her hardest not to cry. Why did she always have to cry, she asked herself
silently? Why couldn't she just suck it up and pretend like it didn't hurt? Harry seemed to be doing that. She hated his
knack for being able to hide his feelings somehow better than he could ever hide under any Invisibility Cloak.

She wanted to ask why, but realized that would actually sound as if she cared. Of course she did, she just didn't want
him to see it. Her resistance for the tears to come pouring out her eyes didn't last for more than another minute. Soon
tears were emerging in her eyes, giving her eyes a gleaming sort of effect due to the light from the setting sun.

Oh, what the hell, she might as well ask him why. He could see it all over her face that she was hurt. She had forgotten
completely about the End of the Year Feast; she had actually forgotten completely about everything in the world besides
herself and Harry.

“Why?” she whispered her question. She didn't dare speak anymore, for she feared her voice probably would crack
completely.

“I just…I dunno,” he answered again with intricacy. He shrugged, now letting go of her hands; she almost felt as if she
were about to fall through the ground without his support. “I guess it's just for the best…”

She got it now. She understood why he was doing this. She wanted to push him for his behavior and feelings. The tears
dried up as she made the transition from sorrow to anger.

“This has to do with me telling you I love you, doesn't it?” she asked him loudly.

He nodded. “No, no it—“ he began.

“You're afraid. You're afraid of saying it back, aren't you? That's why you're breaking up with me,” she growled. She
didn't need this. She knew she was better than having her heartbroken like this for such a stupid reason. She found
herself shrugging it off, acting just as indifferently as Harry seemed to be. “Fine, Harry. I understand,” she said
coolly, “I better go now. Have a nice life.”

She turned away, walking away not just temporarily from him, but for good. Or that's what she would have liked to think.
She returned to the Great Hall just as Dumbledore finished his speech and when Ron asked her later on why the two of
them refused to be in the same room with each other, she replied that she preferred to not talk about it. That was the
truth…she preferred to pretend like the handsome man named Harry James Potter, the man she had fallen hook line and
sinker in love with, didn't exist and that he never even did in the first place…

Her husband was shaking her gently, trying to get her to wake up. He had to get to the Ministry and he knew she wouldn't
have a problem with taking Erick to the wizarding daycare in Diagon Alley on account of her working at the Daily Prophet
office there.

“Jane - Janey,” he murmured to her, still shaking her lightly. “Get up…it's seven already.”

Hermione's eyes opened. Her first sight of the morning was the white ceiling above her. She stared up at it for a brief
second or two, before she sat up, looking automatically at the clock. She smiled at her husband for waking her up and
got out of bed to get ready for the day.

For a moment she had thought she was still in her seventh year and that Harry had broken her heart all over again. But
that wasn't completely true at all. It was just over ten and a half years later; she hadn't seen the man that truly
owned her heart since June of 1998.

“So how was your sleep?” her husband asked, making small talk as he buttoned his shirt.

“Um…it was fine,” she answered shortly. She picked up the clothes she was going to wear for the day and headed inside
the bathroom. Why couldn't she get her mind off of something that had happened to her ten years ago? She had to remember
she was happily married to Benjamin Peterson and had a very adorable six-year-old son named Erick. She couldn't think
about something that would never be.

She pulled off her nightgown and stepped into the shower, turning on the cold water. Unlike most she loved taking cold
showers in the morning; the chill somehow relaxed her and helped her forget about things like a certain someone. Twenty
minutes later she stepped out of the shower and quickly dried herself with a towel, angered that even the cold shower
hadn't been able to get her mind off of the bastard that shattered her heart into a million pieces. She slipped into her
outfit for the day, tying her bushy hair into a bun at the back of her head, before she exited the bathroom.

“Bye, Jane,” said her husband, kissing her on the cheek; he could still sense something was wrong with his wife, but
decided not to mention it.

“Bye,” she said distractedly.

Her husband frowned before he left their home to head to work. Hermione knew faintly she was treating her husband rather
cold that morning, but she couldn't really kiss him back. Deep down in her heart there was only one man she wanted to
kiss…

~ ~ ×

“Why aren't you at work?” Ginny Weasley asked. She picked up a handful of some coconut clusters and stuffed them
hungrily into her mouth. She wiped the crumbs of chocolate and coconut off of her face before she practically drained
her cup of hot chocolate.

“Okay, now I am really getting worried. The day Hermione Jane Granger doesn't feel like working is the day the world
should end,” Ginny teased. She called the waitress of the café in Hogsmeade over and ordered another hot chocolate, her
third hot chocolate that winter morning. “Why am I eating so much? I'm just so hungry. I know it's `cause I'm pregnant,
but I remember when you were, you didn't eat this much.”

“Everyone's different,” Hermione said. She was surprised when Ginny grabbed her cup of hot chocolate and drank that,
too. She pretended as if this didn't bother her. “I'm sorry I'm acting so depressed right now. I just need to take my
mind off certain things right now. Um…so why don't you tell me more about how you and Neville are doing?”

“Great, great. We're just both excited about this baby,” Ginny said, patting her huge stomach. “I'm just excited that
way I can start getting my old figure back.”

Hermione let out a laugh. But through this whole little outing the two of them had together Hermione couldn't stop
finding herself staring out the window longingly, dreaming for a Him to appear on the other side of it; she wondered how
he was doing. When Ginny decided to head on home to eat some more and then take a nap, Hermione decided to stop at the
Hogsmeade Post Office to pick up the mail before going to pick Erick up from daycare.

She walked along the snow-covered roads of Hogsmeade with her hands stowed into her winter cloak. She was staring off at
the beautiful holiday decorations, finding herself on the brink of crying. The way the snowflakes fell slowly to the
floor reminded her of the time when Harry and her had stood outside as it snowed and opened their mouths to catch
snowflakes on their tongues. She remembered them laughing endlessly, especially when she herself slipped on the snow and
Harry went to help her up, only to slip himself. She smiled faintly. Those were such fun memories. They were some of the
best memories of her life.

She entered the Post Office and waited in line until it was her turn. The woman behind the counter was tan with very
short, brown hair that was almost the exact same shade as her skin. She smiled politely at Hermione and asked, “Here to
check your P.O box, ma'am?”

“Yes, please. P.O box number 62985,” said Hermione quietly.

The woman nodded and disappeared from view. Hermione stood there, waiting patiently to get her mail. Her eyes traveled
over to the line next to her where there was a couple standing together, contently wrapped in each other's arms as they
waited for their turn with the clerk. She didn't realize she was staring at them for over half a minute until the woman
with her mail cleared her throat. Hermione turned her attention back on the clerk.

“Sorry,” she muttered.

“Here's your mail, ma'am. Have a wonderful day. Happy holidays,” said the woman, handing over the mail.

Hermione smiled weakly at the woman before she took her mail and started going through it as she left. The mail appeared
to be just typical things. Bills. Junk mail. Sales Papers from stores at Hogsmeade. Benjamin's mother's weekly letter to
them. She was about to stop going through the mail when her eyes landed on something that almost made her heart stop
beating. It was a letter. But not just any letter like the worthless one Ben's mum had written them; it was a letter
addressed to herself and from none other than Harry. On the front of the envelope it read:

To: Hermione J. Granger

From: Harry J. Potter

Hermione nodded her head no fervently. She thought her eyes must be playing a trick on her. She knew this. There was no
way that Harry would send her a letter after ten years. There was no way. No question about it. It was impossible. And
yet here was the letter right in her hands. She tore it open desperately and held the letter closer up, just so that she
would be able to see the words perfectly precisely.

Dear `Mione,

It's been a while, hasn't it? Ten years, five months, and twenty-one days actually…look I know you're probably about to
tear this letter up right now after what ended up happening between us, but don't…at least not yet. I know you've gotten
over me, I know you're in fact married right now, but I need to talk to you. Please. I know I've been the biggest prat
imaginable, but there's something I need to tell you. I'm finally ready to tell you, `Mione. I'm going home for the
holidays from Hogwarts and I'll be taking the train at the Hogsmeade station to my house. I was thinking before I get
on, maybe we could meet there tomorrow at eleven. I know I'm asking so much, but I need to talk to you. Things haven't
felt right for ten years. Let me make them right.

--Harry

She was feeling so many mixed emotions the moment her eyes reached the end of the letter. She was somewhat happy. She
wanted to see him so badly; she wanted to hear his voice; she wanted him to hold her. Then she was sad. She was sad that
it had taken him ten years to contact her. She was sad that she was married to another man. After those emotions was her
anger. How dare he have the audacity to contact her after ten years later from breaking her heart to expect her to just
drop everything, to put her own life on pause just to go meet him? Who the hell did he think he was?

She tore up the letter. She couldn't go see him. Was he insane? What would her husband think? How could she ever forget
about him for another man? She knew she wouldn't be able to control herself around Harry; she wanted him so badly in
everyway. She tossed the letter inside the nearest wastebasket and hurried out of Hogsmeade, remembering she had to go
pick up her son. Erick would take her mind off of this.

“Why'd you have to pick me up so early?” Erick asked, licking his fudge lollipop and getting the fudge smeared all over
his mouth, making a huge mess.

“Because I thought it'd be nice if we spent the rest of the afternoon together,” Hermione answered her son. She had to
let go of his hand, because it was so sticky from all the fudge. “I thought you'd like to spend a day with your mum.”

“Are you going to buy me anything, mum?” Erick asked her. He peered up at her with his innocently curious blue eyes.

“Err, no, we're just heading home. Maybe I can read you a story,” she suggested. Most would say her son was a brat, but
he wasn't to her; he was just too curious and blunt for his own good. Sometimes her son even reminded her of Ron.

The two of them headed home, but she never did get a chance to read him a story; he immediately went outside to have a
snow fight with some of the neighborhood children. He said he would rather spend time with his friends. She accepted
this and was left to sit in the living room near the fire, and think about Him.

Maybe she should go. It couldn't hurt. She could just go to let him know she had fully moved on and that he was now the
one to suffer with a broken heart. What was she thinking? She couldn't go. How would Ben react if he found out? He'd
probably feel betrayed. But she wanted to see him! She knew she needed to. Wait, why should she need to see Harry? She
had a husband that loved her so much, and he was actually able to tell her he loved her.

“I can't just sit here and think about this,” she whispered. She stood up and decided she would make dinner. She entered
the kitchen and started pulling out the pots and pans, and the meat and vegetables. Maybe she should cook the Muggle way
tonight. She paused when she was reminded irresistibly of Harry's seventeenth birthday. That had been the last time she
had cooked a full dinner the Muggle way.

She remembered exactly how it had turned out. She had tried to make Harry a nice stew with lamb chops. It hadn't turned
out very well to put it in simple terms. Her stew had ended up extremely gooey, gummy and not to forget, oddly chewy at
the same time. And the lamb chops. She had managed to burn those to a crisp. She could still remember the look of
amusement Harry had on his face as he pulled her into a kiss, telling her he treasured everything about her, even the
fact that she couldn't cook being included. He told her she looked so adorable with Mrs. Weasley's cooking apron on and
the matching mittens; she thought he looked adorable altogether.

Hermione sighed. A tear left her cheek and fell onto the frying pan on the counter right in front of her. When'd she
start crying, she thought? She hadn't even noticed she was. With the back of her hand she wiped the rest of the tears
away and made up her mind; she was going to see him tomorrow.

“Janey! I'm home!” exclaimed Ben, entering the kitchen too suddenly for Hermione's liking.

She jumped in surprise. She almost felt as if her husband had caught her committing infidelity. He just practically had.
She was thinking of meeting another man that she hadn't seen for ten years. She put on a smile for him.

“H-Hey dear,” she stuttered. It was obvious something was wrong. “How was work?”

Ben gazed at her worriedly as he picked up an apple from the bowl of fruit on the kitchen counter. He bit into it, still
watching her questioningly. “What's wrong, Jane? Is everything all right?” he queried.

Hermione nodded ardently to convince him nothing was wrong. “I'm fine, dear. Just about to cook dinner. I think I'm
going to make a roast tonight, is that all right?”

“Of course, love,” he replied, “I guess I'll go outside to fetch Erick then. It's getting dark. Remember last time he
was out this late he got lost and almost went home to the wrong house.” He chuckled a bit and started out the kitchen,
but paused at the doorway. “Oh, and by the way, I picked up a very precious Christmas present for a very special
someone.” He winked then left now for sure.

Her husband was so sweet and thoughtful. She knew that. She hated the way she couldn't wholly appreciate him like she
should be. With shaking hands she finished dinner the magical way, secretly planning on meeting Harry Potter at the
train station tomorrow behind her husband's back…

~~×

She was there at the Hogsmeade train station at ten forty five. She was praying that he showed. She was putting her
heart on the line again for him, and this time he couldn't disappoint her or else she didn't know if she could handle
it.

Each minute felt like it took five times longer than it should have to pass. She continuously checked her watch every
minute or so to see if it was time yet.

Still she couldn't help wondering if maybe what she was doing was wrong. Going behind the back of her loving husband and
innocent little boy was something she knew was horrible. But her needs were just too great. She couldn't leave now.

“Maybe I should have asked someone for advice…Ginny maybe,” Hermione whispered to herself.

That sounded like a very good idea. Too bad she hadn't thought of it an hour ago when she got dressed to come here.

Soon there was only three minutes before eleven. She found herself counting down the seconds left in the minutes until
eleven o' clock came. Merlin how desperate she was. Hermione had always known of her desperation for Harry, but it
apparently had gotten even worse.

The huge clock just near the boarding area struck eleven o' clock. Hermione held her breath as she looked around for
him. He wasn't there. Okay, so he was going to be a little late. Harry wasn't perfect, that was just one of the zillion
things she loved about him.

Ten minutes passed. Still, he probably was just running late. He probably stopped by Dumbledore's office to have a last
minute chat with him or something, she figured. He would be there any moment now.

By the time the clock was eleven fifteen Hermione had a fresh dose of tears in her eyes. Not again. Her heart was going
to be broken again. She had to hold the world record for foolishness. With her hands she dabbed at her eyes as she
decided it was time to go.

She started toward the exit with her arms wrapped around herself. She had never noticed how cold it was outside, or
maybe the weather wasn't what was cold…maybe her heart was. How could Harry have the nerve to do this to her? Did he
think this was all just a huge game? Was this some sort of sick joke being played on her on his part?

“Oh, well,” Hermione sighed.

Even though she was now left to wallow in her own self-pity, her own self-idiocy, she found that she couldn't cry much
anymore. She wondered if that was just because she had cried herself all out of tears lately. She left the Hogsmeade
train station and decided she fancied a long walk, a very long walk. She didn't even know where she was going. She was
lost.

If only Hermione had waited four minutes longer. At exactly eleven nineteen twenty-eight year old Harry Potter showed up
at the train station looking for the woman he deep down was in love with. He had been building the courage for the past
ten years to tell her how much he loved her, and had finally known that he could do it now; he wasn't afraid anymore.
But, as he took a look around, he noticed that apparently he should have been.

“One of these days possibly,” Hermione whispered as she walked, “maybe someday he'll be able to tell me.” She could do
nothing but wait to see if that day came.

Harry waited there until his train came. Reluctantly he boarded the train, convinced that she completely hated him. He
couldn't blame her. Look at what he had done to her in the past. He broke up with her ten years ago out of fear of
commitment, and he knew he couldn't expect her to stop her life for him. What was he thinking? Hopefully one day they
would meet again and she wouldn't hate him so much anymore. He was going to dwell on this for the rest of his life,
though. He'd never be able to have her again; he'd never be able to tell her how much he really did love her. He felt
himself crying quiet tears; being with her felt so right, it felt like home. Now he would never be home again.

After a long hour of walking aimlessly throughout the streets of Hogsmeade, Hermione returned back home. She sat down in
an armchair near the fire. It was surprising how much having your heart broken for a second time hurt. Nevertheless, it
was a different kind of hurt than last time. Last time it was a sad, gloomy hurt. This hurt, although it was still sad,
was an accepted hurt.

“I'll be waiting, Harry,” she said softly, her eyes staring at the crackling and popping flames. “I'll be waiting until
you think you're ready and not afraid anymore. One of these days, I know you will be.”

~~× Finis × ~~

-->

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2. Desperately (Part 2)

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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