A/N: So this is the last chapter. I really hope it ties up some of the loose ends. Thanks, if I haven't said it before, to Amethyst for writing this fic with me -it's really been a lot of fun, and a start to a long-lasting partnership. Also, thanks to everyone's reviews. You're all lovely.
Everywhere people were celebrating.
Voldemort was gone. The Death Eaters were being rounded up. The fear that had accompanied daily life was slowly giving way to reckless abandonment. Midnight parties went on to morning. Owls were seen zooming hither and thither in the air, bringing the good news to all corners of the earth.
Voldemort was dead.
Good triumphed over evil.
Harry Potter miraculously saved the day-and what a story it was. He's just a boy, they all whispered to each other. Just a boy.
***
"The Winzengamot would like to call Harry Potter to the stand. Harry Potter?"
"Yes, sir?"
"Good to see you, Mr. Potter. You look quite well."
"Thank you."
"Good piece of magic you did. Summoning charm-created by Merlin himself, you know."
"Er…"
"Shame we have to call you in here-terrible inconvenience, especially for such a popular and busy boy as yourself."
"It's not-"
"Awful shame. We'll keep it brief, Mr. Potter. We wouldn't want to bother you-"
"Ahem."
"Golloping Gargoyles, Amelia, can't a man congratulate the boy who saved the world?"
"Well, I-"
"Oh, no need to be modest, Mr. Potter. Yes, well… I do say… I suspect you know why you're here?"
***
"Harry? Harry?"
Harry opened his eyes as a hand shook his shoulder. He fought to sit up, the world a blur of colours around him.
"Here," said Hermione. She pushed his glasses up his nose.
Harry blinked, the room coming into focus. He was still fully clothed. He couldn't remember falling asleep. All he'd wanted was some solitude.
"Harry?"
He felt a flash of irritation. Hermione always made it her business to know every thing about him-even the things he wanted to keep private.
"Yeah? What's going on?"
She looked hesitant as she took a seat beside him. "Well… I was just about to ask you that, actually."
"Me?" he said, avoiding her eyes.
She placed a hand on his knee. He shifted.
"The whole world's celebrating, you know."
"Good on them."
"You're… well, you've been getting loads of mail recently. Have you looked at any of it?"
Harry grunted. There was a pile of letters sitting unopened on his bedroom floor. He didn't much fancy reading them at the moment.
"What is it that you want, Hermione?"
She bit her lip. "I'm worried about you."
"You don't have to be."
Her eyes went bright. "It's just that… Voldemort, you defeated him and it seems like you should be proud or-or feeling free, but you don't… you don't really… seem all that happy." She faltered. "I can't figure out what's wrong."
"Because there is nothing wrong," he said from between clenched teeth.
"Oh," she whispered. She waited a moment. "Is it me?"
"What?" Harry said.
She linked her hands together in her lap, her fingers clenching until they turned white. "I'll understand if it is. I don't want… well, you shouldn't worry about hurting my feelings."
"It's not-"
"You've been so distant lately," she said, her voice oddly high pitched. Harry could see tears glistening in her eyes. "If you need time… then that's… that's fine. I'll always be here if you need me." Her voice wavered. She touched his hand and smiled. "I'll never stop being your best friend."
Harry swallowed and ducked his head. Guilt swamped him, making him feel sick to his stomach.
"It's not… I swear I don't…" he sighed. "You shouldn't have to doubt that I love you, Hermione. Not ever."
She sniffed. "Really?"
"Of course," he said. "I'm sorry."
"Oh, Harry!" she said, throwing her arms around him. "I was so scared. I know it was silly, Harry, I know! But we haven't, well… you know in a while and I thought… oh, I don't suppose it matters what I thought. I love you too, even if you won't tell me what is that's bothering you…"
She started planting kisses over his face.
"Mmf… Hermione…"
Her tongued slipped into his mouth and Harry suddenly realized it had been a long time since they'd… you know. He slid his hands around her waist, playing with the bottom of her t-shirt. The smooth skin of her back brushed against his knuckles.
He couldn't quite contain his small groan of disappointment when she pulled away.
Her face was serious and she frowned resolutely. "Harry, please. Just tell me what's bothering you."
She's so bloody persistent, he thought, breathing heavily. Giving in, he nodded.
Hermione scurried off him, pulling her legs under her. She stared at him with a look of outmost concentration.
"It's… I can't stop thinking about Pettigrew." He saw her furrow her eyebrows. "It's just that… by betraying Voldemort, he allowed me to win."
"You think you owe him your life."
"No," Harry said. "On that, we're even."
"Then what…" Hermione's expression cleared. "He was the one who betrayed your parents," she breathed. "Oh… Oh, Harry."
"He's also the reason Voldemort came back, the reason Sirius…" Harry's voice dropped and he paused. "I just don't understand. Voldemort chose me as his equal-that's why my mum and dad died. That's why I was the one who had to defeat him-and that was because of Pettigrew."
"Yes, but-"
Harry's voice was a whisper. "Who defeated Voldemort? Me or him? Was it Pettigrew who saved the world?"
"No!" Hermione said, looking horrified. "It was you, Harry. It was…" she gestured uselessly with her arms. "You and me and the rest of the Order. The only thing Pettigrew did was pay back his debt."
"I didn't know what to say at his trial. He escaped death, you know. Because of me," Harry said bitterly. "Because I told them what Pettigrew told me. They Winzengamot spared his life."
"Harry… you-"
"That's the second time I've let him go."
"It's not like that!" she said, moving closer to him. "Don't you see, Harry? That's what makes you different from him! You had the chance to kill him and you wouldn't take it. That's why you defeated Voldemort, because you could never be like him!"
"Maybe," Harry whispered. "But I… I can't help but wonder… what d'you reckon would've happened if Voldemort never killed my parents?"
Hermione shook her head. "No, Harry!" she said urgently. "You mustn't think that way. It's not worth it."
Harry was disappointed with her answer, but realized she was right. "Yeah. I s'pose."
She leaned forward to kiss his cheek. "Does it matter, in the long run? You're a great wizard, Harry. That's the important thing."
Harry flushed at her compliment, suddenly feeling like an awkward and hormonal teenager again. He reminded himself that he didn't have to worry. It was Hermione. The one person he never had to be unsure of.
"Thanks," he said. "You're, um…" he cleared his throat. "You're not a bad witch yourself."
Hermione's mouth quirked upwards in a half-smile, revealing a tiny dimple in her cheek.
He leaned forward to kiss the corner of her mouth before pulling away. He met her eyes, silently asking permission to continue. She shifted to her knees, letting her hands slide up to his shoulders. They kissed, letting tongues meld together.
"So you think I made the right decision?" he mumbled, between kisses. "About Pettigrew?"
"Oh… yes," she said. "You… mmm… very noble of you, Harry."
"You think I'm noble?"
"Eurgmmfff."
"What kind of an answer was that?"
"Harry!" she said, nipping lightly at his bottom lip.
He pulled away, and she almost fell forward. She looked at him in worry, her lips swollen and hair mussed.
Harry felt a touch of embarrassment. "Er… thank you."
Hermione frowned. "For what?"
"I dunno. I just… I wanted to tell you. Thank you."
"Oh, Harry," she sighed, touching his face with a light brush of her fingertips. He closed his eyes and felt her lips against his again. Her hands slowly undid the buttons of his shirt and her skin was warm as she slid her palm down his bare abdomen. He sucked in a breath and her hands travelled further, brushing over the bulge in his trousers before beginning to work on the fly.
The door banged open.
Hermione squeaked, jumping nearly a foot in the air. Harry let out a muffled groan when she landed on him, her knee uncomfortably close to he groin.
"Oops. Bad time?"
Hermione whirled around and scrambled off Harry, her hands automatically checking to make sure her bra was still done up.
"Ron!" Harry and Hermione yelled in unison.
Ron took a step backwards and tripped, landing on his bottom.
"Er, hello."
"Have you heard of knocking?" Hermione shrieked.
"Well… I… er… you should lock the door, you know!"
"What do you want, Ron?" Harry snapped, not feeling particularly good-tempered.
Ron fidgeted, but continued to sit sprawled on the carpet. "I… wanted to talk."
"Talk?" Hermione said.
"Yeah, I…" Ron's mouth bobbed up and down soundlessly. "It'd be a good idea."
"Good idea?" Harry said, distracted by Hermione gesturing frantically at him.
"Your buttons," she hissed.
Harry glanced down at himself and hastily buttoned up his trousers before starting on the shirt. I'm going to kill him, he thought. I don't care what he wants to talk about, I'm still going to kill him.
"So," Ron said, picking himself up from the floor. "I… think… well… I don't… I never…"
"Yes?" Harry said.
Ron glanced at him and paled. "I just… I wanted to say… I'm sorry."
He shrugged helplessly, his face eager as he looked at Harry and Hermione.
"Sorry?" Harry repeated blankly.
A serious look settled onto Hermione's face.
"That's quite alright, Ron," she said.
Harry glanced back and forth between them.
Ron slumped in relief. "I didn't mean to… to… hurt you," he said. "I just… I wanted to help."
"I know," Hermione said gently.
There was a long moment of silence. Ron rubbed the back of his neck and shifted.
"And…" Ron hesitated. "I'm rather… happy for you two. I just… wanted you to know that."
Hermione reached for Harry's hand. She smiled.
"Thank you, Ron."
Harry stared at him. "Really? You're okay with this?"
"What?" Ron asked. "Why wouldn't I be okay with it?"
"Er," Harry said. "It's just… you…"
Harry jerked his head in Hermione's direction and Ron reddened.
Ron cleared his throat. "Actually, I've had… time… to get used to the idea of the pair of you."
Hermione squeezed Harry's hand and let go.
How long have we had feelings for each other? Harry wondered. Took Hermione losing her memory for me to realize mine… but they'd been there for ages already…
He wanted to ask Ron how long he'd known. He couldn't remember when things had changed. He wasn't certain he knew what it felt like not to be in love with Hermione.
"You doing alright, mate?" Ron asked.
Harry thought for a moment. "Yeah," he said. "Voldemort's gone, isn't he? Things are… good."
Ron snorted. "Must be nice not having an insane murderer out after you. You can think about the future for once. And hey! You won't die a virgin!" Ron laughed to himself.
Harry and Hermione very carefully avoided looking at each other.
"In fact," Ron continued. "You won't die at all-at least, not if you don't get some horrible disease or blow yourself up or-"
"Thanks, Ron," Hermione said loudly.
"Didn't you have to be somewhere?" Harry said.
"Be some-"
"Yeah," Harry said. "You were just going?"
Comprehension dawned in Ron's eyes, and he fumbled behind him for the doorknob. "Oh, yeah. I… yeah, I was just…"
The door opened and Ron quickly slammed it shut behind him. Harry let out a sigh of relief when he was gone.
"That wasn't very nice," Hermione said sharply.
"You know what?" Harry said. "I don't care. Where were we?"
"Where-"
"You know…" Harry said, raising his eyebrows. "Before Ron-"
"Oh!" Hermione said, flushing. "Well… I suppose… I was trying to remove your trousers."
So it wasn't perfect or terribly romantic. And perhaps asking her where they'd left off wasn't the best way to go about it. Still, Hermione wasn't complaining, so he leaned forward to kiss her.
He imagined Pettigrew sitting in a dirty jail cell somewhere, covered in grime. He was alone-cold, shivering, covered in insects and bacteria and forbidden from using magic. That's for my parents, Harry thought.
But with Hermione's tongue swirling his and her hands reaching down to cup him, the image of Pettigrew faded from his mind. What did it matter anyway? He won-like he was destined to.
It was over.