Unofficial Portkey Archive

Author's Note: Ok, so this one popped into my mind while I was in class today. I'd hit a knot in writing the next part of 'Candleburn' and thought I needed something romantic and more humorous than both fanfictions I'm working on. So this is it. It's probably the lightest thing I've ever written and in many ways, I think it's closer to my personality (although, I love me some drama). I recognize myself a lot in Hermione and I think it's why I decided to write it in the first person. First person allows more humor, in my opinion.

Hope you enjoy, more to follow.

Oh, the timeline is pretty much as follows. It contains spoilers for up to the fifth book, because it was just less complicated to include Draco when ignoring the fifth book and I didn't want to have to play with the whole Ginny/Harry aspect. Except that Sirius isn't dead because this is a world/story all of my own and if I can ignore a whole book, I can ignore the one thing that made me cry by eyes out in the fifth one. I don't think he will make an appearance in the fanfiction (he might) but I needed to use him for a joke and did. Story it set a little over 6 years after they graduated from Hogwarts, so 7 years after OotP, making Hermione 24 and Harry and Ron 23 (because it's set in january) - according to HBP on Hermione's age (she's 17 when comes time for the apparation exam and her birthday is not mentionned in the book, so one can only assume she was already 17 when they started the school year. Or, that she doesn't have a birthday, considering it's the only one that isn't mentionned or referred to in the books.) ETA: September 19, readers are very very kind.

Part 1: The kiss

I hate this. I completely and utterly hate this. I should know, I always know everything. It's my trademark. So how can I not know this?

I think the thing I hate the most is how badly I want to know. How could I not? It was the singularly most mind-blowing moment of my life, a fire show all of its own. And with Ginny on my side, almost jumping up and down on the couch, pressing me for answers that I don't have, the desire to know makes itself even harder to deny.

My name is Hermione Granger. For most of my life, I've been your average know-it-all muggle-born witch that just happened to be one of the two best friends of Harry Potter, the boy who lived. For seven years Harry, Ron and I were students at Hogwarts, a school for young wizards like us, but we also did more than that. We saved the wizarding world - well, we helped Harry do it - on a yearly basis. To tell the truth, we didn't do much, just tried our best not to stay in Harry's way and help him when he hit a hard patch - which was quite often. But the battle at the end of our last year had been something different, something much more threatening. Harry, Ron and I had faced Voldemort, and with our powers combined, had reduced him to nothingness, after a long duel Harry had been the only one to endure. He had been drained of almost all his energy, almost killed. After a few months at St.Mungo's, during which Ron and I had visited on a daily basis, he had been better than new, finally able to enjoy life.

For the last year and a half at Hogwarts- and two more after that - Ronald Weasley and I had been a unit, lovers, a couple - however you want to put it. It was easier to be with him, in a way. When we were together, I wasn't so worried all the time, nor so conscious of the danger. I truly loved him and he loved me back. It was fun and carefree, even though we'd often butt heads. He was quite the stubborn arse when he wanted to be and according to him, I was a snotty know-it-all. Which, in all fairness, I have to admit I am. But by the time our relationship entered its third year, the small fights and great make-ups that had made our relationship so obvious had turned into vicious tradings of insults that left us both bitter and in tears. A few months after that, Ron was moving out of our flat and in with Harry. While I still saw Harry pretty much every day, it took me eight months before I could be in the same room as Ron without either bursting into tears or screaming at him. It has been four years since our first lunch date as simple friends and finally, our relationship is back to where it was before the whole relationship mess, minus the whole poorly masked jealousy. In those four years, I've been on a series of dates, very few of them living on to a second occurance. Very recently, Ron has gotten involved with someone we had gone to Hogwarts with, Luna Lovegood, a rather peculiar girl, but a very lovable one. At first, I felt the stab of envy, seeing Ron look at Luna the way he used to look at me. However, now I understand that it was not because of Ron but simply because I long for feeling this way again. For feeling loved.

And then, it happened: I was kissed. But not a simple kiss, the most extraordinary kiss of my life. The only problem is, I have no idea who kissed me.

It had happened three days before at the Ministry's New Year's Eve Ball, at the exact stroke of midnight. The lights had been turned off, as they traditionally were at that precise moment and the next thing I knew, I was being pulled into someone's arms and dipped back. Warm lips pressed against mine, kissing me urgently. I was so shocked that even as the stranger straightened me and his lips left mine, I didn't even think of holding him back. And when the light returned, I was left standing there, a dreamy expression on my face that made me look like a doofus and facing a crowd of celebrating wizards and witches. I only resisted a mere three days before I told my best friend, Ron's sister, about the kiss. I still could see fireworks before my eyes thinking back on that kiss while sitting with her on the sofa of Ginny's small flat, rattling my brain for any small detail that I could have missed. Did he speak? How did he smell? Merlin, I wish I could remember.

'Hermione! You have to tell me who it was, don't be a brat!' Ginny suddenly said while giving me a small shake, throwing me out of my reverie. As I turned to her with what I hoped was an annoyed expression - but from the grin on her face, I could see I wasn't very convincing - I sighed.

'Love, I think she really doesn't know. Stings, doesn't it Granger? Welcome to everybody else's world,' a snarky voice spoke from the other side of the room. With annoyance, the genuine kind this time, I threw a glare at Ginny's fiancé, then turned back to my friend. It still feels odd to think of Ginny Weasley and Draco Malfoy as a couple, even though it has been the case for the last five years, mere months after Ginny graduated from Hogwarts. Malfoy's involvement in the final battle certainly had a lot to do with it, but I also suspect that it had been brewing for a little before that, throughout Draco's last two years at Hogwarts. After his father had been exposed as a Death Eater, most students were terrified to go anywhere near him and the other children of Death Eaters had refused to be seen with him. They were afraid to be associated with his father and see their own parents sent to Azkaban. The situation had not been so bad during our sixth year, but as the war intensified, it became much worse in our seventh year. As Head Girl, I often found him hiding out of the Slytherin Dungeons at night and I know for a fact that he spent a lot of nights in the Room of Requirements. After I spoke of it with Harry over the Christmas break, I was pleasantly surprised to see him approach Malfoy when we returned to school. Of course, he received a cold reception, but Malfoy eventually came around - or at least, as much as he ever would. To this day, Draco and Harry's conversations still pretty much consist of sarcasm and insults, which actually makes for quite an interesting show.

At that time, Ginny had still been dating Dean, but by March, their relationship was over and I noticed she grew surprisingly closer to Draco. It drove Ron crazy and he would spend several hours ranting about it when we were alone together. He has threatened Malfoy of bodily arm on more than one occasion in the past and while they are more cordial to each other now, it still happens on occasion. I have to admit, Ginny and Draco are well fitted. They play on each other's personalities, Ginny's fiery nature and Draco's cold sarcasm. Until they're married, Ginny has chosen to keep her small apartment, but I'm sure she won't last long at Malfoy Manor or at least, not with the same interior it has now. Harry, Ron and I have a bet going: I'm giving her six months before she redecorates the whole thing, Harry gives her three months and Ron gives her a day. I've always had too much confidence in people.

'Piss off, honey,' Ginny said in a flat voice, as if she had just bid him goodnight, her eyes still on me. I could not help a laugh. Have I mentioned they were also quite entertaining? I swear I could hear Malfoy grin as he stood up and dropped a kiss on the top of Ginny's head before apparating out. After the distinctive 'crack' faded into silence, she flashed me a mischievous smile. 'Now that it's only us girls, you have to tell me! I think I'll die if you don't. I certainly won't sleep tonight if you don't!'

'Oh well, now, we can't have that!' I said on a sarcastic tone, rolling my eyes. I wish it was as simple as that, that I was holding back only because I didn't want to reveal the name of my mystery kisser in front of Malfoy. The redhead in front of me grunted and sat back in the couch. I very much wanted to do the same thing.

'There has to be something! Do you have something that we could track back to him?' Ginny began, before I saw her eyes become wide as a thought crossed her mind. 'Merlin! What if it's not a him at all? What if it's a her?!'

For a handful of seconds, I think I stopped breathing. Not that I have anything against homosexuality, I personally think that Remus and Sirius make a smashing couple, but the mere thought that the best kiss of my life had been given to me by a woman, a sex I'm very fond to be a part of but that doesn't do much for me on my lust-meter, was very much depressing. But then it came to me. The hand that had held me while I was being dipped had been large and strong, the one partly behind my neck and partly covering my cheek, gentle yet with a roughness to it. It only could be a man's hands. With a sigh of relief, I informed Ginny that I was definitely sure it was a man. She sighed too and nodded slowly before pointing out the obvious fact that it left us in the same place we had started at.

When I left Ginny's flat the muggle way that night, walking out the door and building on my own two feet, I still wasn't any closer to finding out who had kissed me. It was actually why I had chosen to walk instead of apparating. I don't live very far from Ginny's, it's true, but there is still a considerable distance between our two flats and I needed the fresh air. I have always loved the winter, the snow, the cold temperature. It's always helped me think.

Who would have known that I would be walking straight into Harry, less than a corner away? And when I say, 'walking straight into Harry', I really mean it. The last thing I remember is looking up as a star shot through the sky before bumping into something and falling flat on top of a large shape. Hearing a grunt under me, I opened my eyes and was left speechless by the sight of two emerald green eyes that hooked me in. He was the first to speak, as my brain slowly started to work that this was Harry I was laying all over. 'Hello, Hermione.'

That sparked my reaction. Stammering his name as I picked myself up and got to my feet, I helped him up then hurriedly brushed the snow off my black muggle wool coat. Finally, I lifted my eyes to look up at him and was surprised to see a large smile splitting is face from ear to ear. And the next few minutes found us laughing until our stomachs ached. When we finally stopped, he explained to me that he had dropped one of his gloves, waving the culprit in the air, and was in the process of picking it up when I had walked straight into him. A patch of ice had done the trick, sending us both on the ground, or rather him on the ground with me on top of him.

'I'm so, so sorry. I haven't been myself all night,' I began to explain, feeling my cheeks flush red. He waved off my excuses and we resumed walking towards my flat. Noticing he was following me without asking where I was headed, I frowned. 'What are you doing out so late, Harry?'

'I was just taking a walk,' he replied with a shrug. That only made me more curious. Just a walk? He had to be at least forty minutes away from the flat he shared with Ron. When I commented on it, he laughed and admitted he had some thinking to do. I have to admit, sometimes we're so similar it's almost eerie. Except for the fact that my idea of heaven is a large library with its walls covered in books and his is the World Cup's Quidditch Pitch. Not all that similar, after all.

I was quite prepared to scream at the arse that bumped into me and landed on top of me. I even had a long list of insults prepared, among which 'git' occupied a prominent place. I think my heart almost jumped out of my chest when I opened my eyes and saw Hermione. I have to admit, I'm quite proud of having spoken first. Partly makes up for my terrible lying abilities. Just taking a walk? I had to refrain from not slapping my forehead after hearing myself say that. Clever Hermione pointed out the ambiguity in my answer right away and I told her the truth, or at least enough of the truth so it wouldn't technically be a lie. It was just vague enough so that it couldn't point out to the fact that I was thinking about her. Desperate to move the subject of conversation away from me, I mirrored her question. Hearing her reply that she was just coming from Ginny's made me rather thankful that I had not used that excuse myself. Now that certainly would have been quite embarrassing.

I had not seen her since the New Year's Eve ball, after she had helped me bring a rather intoxicated Ron home. Luna had been absent from the event, protesting that it was a crucial night in the development of the Squealing Bourgot's life (even after her hour-long explanation, I'm still not quite sure what that is supposed to be) and that she simply could not miss it. Ron, on the other hand, had decided to go along even without a woman on his arm. As Hermione and I slaved at trying to get Ron to bed, I remember glaring at my best friend, partly amused, but mostly angered as he made several attempts at pulling his ex down with him on the bed. Amazingly, Hermione had not seemed to make a case out of this, apparently putting it all on the account of the redhead being extraordinarly drunk. Still wearing the simple long white dress with a semi-plunging neckline that made my head spin, her hair undone and falling in long waves on her back - I suspect her elaborate hairdo came apart sometimes between the fourth and fifth time Ron successfully pulled her down on the bed with him - she bid me goodnight with a simple kiss on the cheek and apparated home. I remained standing there for about ten good minutes, cherishing the remainder of her scent. That night, on the stroke of midnight, I had done something so foolish I still can't believe I have done it. For the last three days, it's haunted me, an immense feeling of guilt gripping me whenever I see Ron, which given the fact that we live together, amounts to a lot. It was mostly for that reason that I was out for at least two hours on that cold winter night, because at least that meant I didn't need to be in the same room as my best friend. And that I didn't have to feel as guilty for kissing his ex-girlfriend. And the woman I have been in love with for the last year.

Being in love with your best friend is already something troubling all of its own. It's the redefinition of a relationship I have come to rely on in more ways than one. But being in love with your best friend who also happens to be the ex-very-serious-girlfriend of your best mate and roomate is something entirely different. It means I can't ever have her.

Author's Note: The Remus/Sirius making a smashing couple joke was not implying that they are a couple in the story, but simply that Hermione kind of sees them as one, or at least, was making a joke because of the obvious sexual tension between the two. I do love my gay wizards.