Midnight Kiss

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 fianc�, 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.

Author's Note: Hope you enjoy. Never thought I would update this story this quickly.

It's settled. I'm officially the worst liar in history. I can't believe Hermione actually bought that or at least, that she pretended to. But what she could gain in doing that is beyond me.

Coming accross a muggle coffee shop, we decided to go for a drink but found ourselves stuck at the last available table in the far corner of the room, shielded from view a few feet away from any other table. The privacy was nice but it apparently made her prone to confidences. Not that I really minded, I love talking to Hermione. Throughout my years at Hogwarts, she was the only one I could truly confide in without having to fear her reaction. Ron was my best mate, there was no arguing that, but the cold that had happened between us during our fourth year left me scared of how he would react at any given thing. Hermione never got angry. She was often aggravated by my antics, but never angry. But this was not a discussion I was prepared to have with her, ever.

After breathing in the aroma of her black coffee - I can't imagine how anyone could ever drink that, I drink mine with more sugar than actual caffeine, but I suspect now that her long study sessions have been helped by the abundant consumation of that beverage - she looked up at me and I knew I was in trouble. She gave a quick look around her to ensure that we were alone, then she leaned forward so that she was closer to me. 'Harry, I need to tell you something. It's been driving me nuts.'

'Oh?' I said, trying rather unconvincingly to sound nonchalant, a task made quite difficult by my voice shaking. I was terrified to see her give me a suspicious look but she didn't, instead her eyes went to her joined hands on the table. I tried to take a sip of my own coffee but found that my anxiety made it near impossibly to swallow anybody. My eyes watered as I refrained a cough, choking on the warm liquid as it went down with great difficulty and I waited for her to continue.

'You know how the lights always go out at the exact stroke of midnight at the Ministry's Ball?'

Oh, bugger.

'Well, last week, when they turned off the lights...somebody kissed me.'

Bloody fuck.

At that moment, I think I would have preferred facing Voldemort again to having to sit in front of her and pretend that I was shocked. That I didn't know she had been kissed. That I wasn't the one who had kissed her. 'Oh, really? Who kissed you?'

The words 'worst. liar. ever.' could have been written on a large flashing sign above my head with an arrow pointing at me that it wouldn't have been more obvious that I was lying. But somehow, thankfully, she missed it. I don't think I could have been able to resist the urge to grab her and snog her silly on top of the table if she had looked up at me right that moment, for the memory of the one kiss we had shared hit me with a rare intensity. I was heading towards her as the clock counted down the last seconds leading us into the new year and I was only a few steps away from her when the lights went out. I'm positive she hadn't seen me yet. And then, like a stoke of genius - or rather, stupidity - I saw my opportunity. I have been in love with her for almost a year, but I've sworn to myself that I never would do anything about it. I could never do that to Ron. But with darkness' cloak, she would never know. And I would be able to live on the memory.

But the moment I pressed my lips against hers, I knew it would never be enough. One kiss would never cut it, it only made matters worse. It only made me want her more. Need her more. I pulled away and dove into the crowd, seconds before the light returned. Once I was shielded from her eyes, I turned and looked at her. A dreamy expression on her face and her fingers softly pressed against her lips, she was more beautiful than I'd ever seen her.

'I don't know! That's what has been driving me nuts!' she said, finally looking up at me. I let out a poorly concealed sigh of relief as she dropped her face in her hands.

'Well, I guess, it could pretty much be anybody. I mean, there were a lot of wizards at that ball, there's not really any way to know...' I began, trying to dismiss the issue before she made it near impossible for me to not blurt out that I had been the one who had kissed her, which I was pretty close to doing. How could it be legal for her to be so gorgeous? Her hair was brought up on top of her head in a loose bun that allowed for a few bouncy curls to frame her face. Her hair is far less bushy than it was when I met her, puberty had done most of the trick, but it still has that unique quality that makes her stand out of everyone else. She wears little make-up, but her lips always have a natural red tint that reminds me of strawberries. And her eyes, such lovely eyes, are so dark that I often find myself lost in their abyss when she speaks. It's put me in embarrassing situations more than once, when I found myself unable to answer her questions because I hadn't been concious she had asked one in the first place, mesmerized by her eyes.

'But Harry, I need to know! It was the best kiss of my life!' she pleaded, reaching out to squeeze my left hand with urgency. And just like that, she rendered me speechless. The best kiss of her life? No, no. It couldn't be. I must have imagined it. Had she simply said she wanted to find the person who had kissed her to smack him on the head, I could have lived with it. But this? This made lying to her and hiding my feelings from her that much harder, because the kiss had been as spectacular for her as it had been for me. And that meant she had feelings for me too. Immediatly, I realized that was foolish. She didn't know who had kissed her, she could not have feelings for someone she didn't know. Apparently, either I'm simply an amazing kisser or the magic of being kissed by a stranger in the dark had done the trick.

Placing my other hand on top of our joined hands, effectively cupping hers, I looked straight into her eyes and gave it all I had. 'Mione, any guy who's coward enough to kiss you in the dark and hide away afterwise doesn't deserve you.'

There, not such a bad liar after all. Except, of course, that it's true.

Harry was right, I think I'd known it deep down inside the moment I opened my eyes and there was no man standing in front of me. But I think the wounded teenager in me held on stubbornly to the memory of that kiss. For most of my teenage years, I never felt beautiful. Or wanted. My fourth year at Hogwarts marked a change, as I became the object of the Durmstrang champion's affections but when he left I found myself the buck-teethed, bushy-haired friend once again, both to Harry and Ron. My fifth year was dreadful. My sixth year, a bit better, especially the second half. Ron was my first serious boyfriend and to this day, the man with whom I've had the only significant relationship of my life. I think this is what hurts the most. Yes, I've been loved and felt desirable for a certain number of years. Yes, I go on dates. But none of this matters when I find myself alone at the end of the day in an empty flat with a cat that's getting too old.

'I know,' I said, my shoulders sagging. 'But I can't help it. Harry, I can't think about anything else. It's gonna be even worse when I return to work and can't do a bloody thing!'

Not that my job entailed me doing much, these days. I work as the Head of Exhibitons at the London Museum of Wizarding History, situated in what appeared to be a run-down building to muggle eyes but was in fact quite charming. We had just opened a new exhibiton reviewing Hogwarts' History on Christmas Day and the research for the next exhibition is already quite advanced - I haven't changed that much since Hogwarts, after all. So basically, I spend my days backing up my research with credible sources and contacting other museums. Harry, on the other hand, lives a much more thrilling life as an Auror, even though the job doesn't entail the same dangers it did during the war these days. But there are still dark wizards to be seen to and sometimes I find myself unable to sleep at night because Harry either forgot to call me to say he was safe at home or was on a mission overnight. It doesn't come anywhere near the worry level I sometimes reached during the war. But I'm scared for him.

Noticing he hadn't said a thing, I frowned then pulled out my hand from the trap of his and reached for my cup of coffee. I was surprised to find it was almost cold. How long had we been sitting there? Certainly, it couldn't have been that long. 'What's wrong with you, Harry? You're quiet tonight. Something to hide, have we?'

He choked on his drink and I had my answer. Of course he had something to hide, or maybe he was not hiding it so much as I had quickly centered the conversation on myself and only myself. But either way, he definitely had something on his mind. Had he not mentioned that he had some thinking to do, after all?

'No. Nothing to hide,' he blurted out, waving his hand with his palm up in front of him to accentuate his words. Faced with my doubtful expression, he let out a sigh and I had to fight the impulse to flash him a sufficient smirk. Not at all my style, more of Draco's style actually, but it was so tempting. 'Fine. Something to hide. But I can't actually say anything without ruining...a lot of things, so I'll just stay unexplicably quiet and listen to you talk your head off.'

I glared at him, deciding to let go of the subject considering it seemed to be related to his job and I'm used to him having to conceal things from me when it comes to that. But I certainly was not going to let go of that comment. 'Talk my head off? I'll let you know, Harry Potter, that I do not talk my head off.'

'True. It would be a shame, you have a lovely head,' Harry said, a lopsided grin on his face. Without me noticing it, he had finished his drink and was now playing with the empty cup. I reached accross the table and landed a playful swat on his shoulder and he half whined, half laughed as he rubbed the spot where I'd hit him.

The rest of the conversation went on pretty much along the same lines, him teasing me more than once. And then after our third cup of coffee and upon noting that it was well past midnight, on a monday night no less, we both decided to apparate home as soon as we could find a quiet place where no muggle would see us. But apparently, there was some sort of muggle conspiracy going on, because we had been walking, bundled in our coats and scarves in the cold winter air, for more than fifteen minutes without finding an unoccupied dark alley or an empty street. Watching out for any of those, I suddenly felt Harry's eyes burning holes in the back of my skull. Turning to look at him, I was met with a smile. 'What?'

'Sorry, I was just thinking that...You look beautiful tonight,' Harry said, apparently taken back by the fact that I'd noticed him watching me. Or rather, felt it. I rolled my eyes and reached up to feel my hair. I'd just run out of the shower and tied it up to meet up with Ginny for supper after work, not giving myself a second look in the mirror. I certainly didn't look beautiful, at any rate.

'Very funny, Harry. I didn't really have the time to get fancied up so please, don't mock me.'

How could she not think that she was beautiful? It was beyond me. The simple fact that she did not spend several hours on her appearance only made her even prettier in my eyes. She didn't have to try, she simply was.

'Don't be ridiculous. You look amazing,' I said, poking her side with my finger. She squirmed out of my reach with a small scream then slapped my hand away and we shared a laugh. I was glad to see her drop the subject. What was I supposed to say, that I thought she was probably the most beautiful woman I had ever been given to see? Oh, there are more gorgeous, of course. But none of them can hold a candle to her, she's in a category all of her own. It's about the cleverness you can see in her eyes, the way she looks when she's worried. Even in the expression on her face when she's aggravated with Ron or me.

'Why on earth can't we find a simple dark corner?' Hermione sighed, shaking her head as she stopped to give the area we were standing in a thorough examination. I have to admit that the thought of finding a dark corner for completely different purposes crossed my mind right then. I didn't really want to leave Hermione, but at the same time, I knew that I had to report for work early the next morning and that if I stayed with her, the conversation risked coming back to the kiss I knew we had shared and she did not. So, with a firm yet gentle grip on her arm, I pulled her into an unlit portion of the street, shielding us from vision.

'Here. Dark corner. Well, not so much a corner as a spot, really, but don't be so damn picky.'

'Oh, wonderful, shall we snog?', she said with a grin. For the mere seconds between the moment she said the words and when she broke into giggles, the most explicit imagery invaded my mind. Forcing a laugh to match her own, I reached into my back pocket for my wand, eager to part with her.

'Well, good night Mione,' I said, instinctively pulling her into a hug. It was meant to be a quick and simple embrace, but it went on for much longer than I had planned. After a few seconds, I felt her arms tighten around me and I felt her cold nose in the crease of my neck. I tensed and wanted to pull out, but I found I was unable to. I was no longer eager to part with Hermione. She was the first one to break the embrace, a look of confusion on her face as she took a step back.

'Good night, Harry,' she said, her voice sounding absent. I watched her apparate out and stood there in the darkness, feeling my stomach sink. Had I just betrayed myself?

Author's note: I should be very much asleep right now. Hopefully, you liked this part. I will try to write more as soon as I can.

Author's Note: First, I have to thank everybody who reviewed the previous chapters. I'm simply amazed that people reacted so strongly, and I replied to every single review.

Second, this chapter has a bit more stuff happening and is a bit longer. Also, a bit less funny and a bit more dramatic, but it's something I needed to do. Will be back to more humour in the next chapters. I know you guys desperately want them together, but it's no fun when it's too easy.

My head hitting the desk was probably what had woken me up, I decided while rubbing my forehead and aligning a combination of words I would normally scold Ron for saying. I had dozed off with my head resting in my hand while sitting at my desk at work. It was only 11 am, which really didn't bode well for the rest of the day. Glancing at the clock on the wall, with its arrow slowly going from 'slightly rushed' to 'squeezed-in lunchtime', I let my eyes trail to the 'rushed beyond words' that marked most of the afternoon. Fortunately, the clock wasn't as accurate today as it usually was. Not much work needed to be done and that was a good thing because I'd only been able to squeeze in a few hours of sleep.

To say I was confused when I apparated to my flat that night would be an understatement. The problem was, I wasn't actually sure what had sparked that confusion. One moment, I was hugging Harry goodnight and the next, the memory of the kiss came rushing back stronger than ever before. I had probably looked like an idiot, backing away from him and simply leaving. I think I even half expected him to apparate after me, but he didn't.

It was almost 2 am when I finally got into bed, pushing an indignant Crookshanks out of the way to make room for my legs. But even then, sleep seemed to evade me. I finally woke up at 6 am with a stiff nick and a headache to match. The expression on my secretary's face that morning had said even more about my current state than the stiff neck. I looked as tired as I felt. Slowly, I started gathering my things, putting all the papers in a neat pile that I then placed on the right side, with my quill in its holder. Shedding my wizard robes, which I wore over more comfortable but still formal clothing, I hung them on the hook behind my door and grabbed my purse. I would be a little early for my lunch date with Ron, but it was better than falling asleep again and missing it.

The night we finally killed Voldemort had dragged on forever. It was a chain of excruciating battles one after the other, a chaos of hexes and pain. But the night I had just spent, sitting on the couch and staring at the ceiling had been even longer. From the moment I stepped foot into the flat I shared with Ron, I knew I wouldn't be able to find sleep. The horrible feeling that somehow, someway, I had betrayed my secret gripped me at the throat, making me feel agitated and troubled. How could I ever have been so dumb to think that I could just kiss Hermione and that everything I felt for her would go away?

So I sat there, thinking about Hermione and of the ten thousand ways she could figure it out. Because she would, I knew she would and then everything would be ruined. When morning came, I showered, ate and left, still haunted by those thoughts. I had done very little at work that morning, barely making it through half the field reports I had to fill out, which would most likely earn me more than my share of glares from Tonks, my superior. When lunch hour came, I left the office without much enthusiasm even though I was awfully hungry. I had no particular plans for that day so I decided to simply walk down the street until I came upon something appealing. And I did.

My breath caught in my throat when I saw Hermione through the window of a small restaurant where Ron, Hermione and I had gone on several occasions. She had a book opened on the table in front of her and seemed engrossed in it, but she also looked tired. It wasn't surprising, I thought, after all she too had gotten home quite late the night before. My brain screamed to stay away, but I was drawned to her like a moth to the flame and I started towards the door, when suddenly the ground gave under me.

Not literally, obviously, but it might as well have. Frozen in place, I watched as Ron arrived behind her and placed an hand on her shoulder, startling her. When she realized it was him, she offered him a bright smile and he bent to kiss her cheek before sitting next to her. The sight of him stealing the book away from her and playfully keeping it out of her reach sent me years before, when they were still living together and were ridiculously happy. I'm not quite sure how long I remained there, all thoughts of hunger forgotten, simply staring at them. But eventually, I turned and hurriedly walked away, feeling an odd mixture of rage and sadness take over me. I made it back to my office somehow, at which point I slammed the door behind me and leaned my back to it, breathing heavily.

There it was. The main reason why I could never tell Hermione what she meant to me. All that she truly meant to me. It's not like it had come as a shock, I had known it from the start. The relationship Ron and Hermione still shared had been the main reason why I had kept my secret to myself for over a year. I was scared of losing her but also of losing them both.

'Ron! Oh, sometimes I swear...' I said, finally taking back my book and putting it in my purse before he could steal it away from me again. I wanted to glare at him, but he looked so happy with himself that I simply couldn't. With a sigh, I simply shook my head slowly and hoped that it would do. With his cheeks still red from the cold and a large grin on his face, he looked like an insufferable kid. I remembered a time where that used to be enough to make me melt.

'Sorry, sorry,' he said, looking anything but. He took off his coat and hung it on the back of his chair just as the waitress came to take our orders. We made small talk until our meals came and as usual, after that, any talking was made impossible by Ron stuffing his face like he'd never eaten a thing before in his life . Even after having lived with him, I still found that a hard sight to adjust to. At some point, he seemed to feel my eyes on him and he paused, looking up from his plate. I didn't need to say anything, he simply understood me by looking into my eyes. Okay, so our relationship is not exactly back to where it was before, but in my opinion, it's a good thing. Harry was always the only one that ever could know what I was thinking or what I would say simply by looking into my eyes, as I could for him. But Ron, from time to time, has that ability too now. Funny how it took a 3 year relationship for him to be able to do that when it's always been so natural for Harry and I.

'So. Remember how I said I wanted to treat you to lunch?' he began, dabbing the corners of his mouth with his napkin.

'Yes. Obviously, since I showed up here. And we're eating lunch,' I said, giving him a dubious look. He rolled his eyes then pointed out that he meant to explain why he had invited me. I nodded and continued to pick at my food absently, the lack of sleep having left me nauseous and not the least bit hungry.

'I just thought, that I should tell you first. I think after all we've been through, I at least owe you a heads up,' Ron began, sparking my curiosity. I looked up at him with large worried eyes, urging him to continue. 'I'm going to ask Luna to marry me on Saturday, at Mum's big supper at the Burrow.'

I'm not quite sure what happened there. I probably stared at him long and hard enough for him to feel uncomfortable because he reached out across the table and grabbed my hand, squeezing it. He probably asked if I was okay, but I could not hear anything at that point, the buzzing in my ears was deafening. I blinked a few times to chase away the tears and forced myself to smile, hoping that I could make my emotions pass for happiness.

'Oh, Ron! That's so great!' I said, finally regaining my composure. I must have been convincing because the next thing I knew he had a childish grin on his face as he pulled me into a tight hug. My smile faded as he pressed me hard against him. I couldn't understand why I was feeling this way. Why was this affecting me so? Why couldn't I be happy for him?

He pulled back and my fake smile returned, brighter than ever. He took both my hands in his and squeezed them. I don't think I'd ever seen him so happy, even when we were together. And if anything, that made me hurt even more.

'I was wicked worried about this. You just...You've meant so much to me for so long and I'm not a git, I know things will always be a bit tense between us. I'm so relieved,' Ron said, finally letting go of my hands and turning back to his meal. We finished the meal, him commenting merely on his plans and me trying to smile happily so that he wouldn't suspect a thing. When he finally walked me back to the museum and we parted at the door, the fa�ade fell almost instantly. Furiously, I wiped away the tears that kept falling and hurried into the nearest bathroom that I could find, casting a locking charm at the door.

I turned around and fell face to face with the mirror, staring at my own reflection. The woman looking back at me had horribly red eyes with dark circles under them, her face was pale and she looked more distraught then I'd ever seen her in the last few years. I felt like I had during our last few months at Hogwarts, worrying for Harry and everyone else. I had gotten so nervous that I had stopped sleeping and eating, getting so thin that Ron and Harry had both gotten on my case, making sure I got some sleep and ate properly. I wasn't any close to being that thin now, but I did look as tired. And I did feel just as horrible.

When I got home that day, I still had the image of Hermione and Ron laughing together dancing in front of my eyes. I had accomplished even less in the afternoon than I had that morning, but one look at me had told Tonks that the last thing I needed was her getting on my back. I'd even yelled at Sirius to get out of the way when we crossed paths in the corridor leading out, leaving him looking deeply troubled. I hadn't even bothered to look back.

The flat was dark, reminding me that Ron was spending the night at Luna's. I dropped my things, including my cloak and robes, in a pile next to the door and headed straight for my bedroom. Perhaps sleep would improve my mood, clear up my mind, and I would be back to being myself. Well, at least, I would be back to pretending to be myself, just as I'd been doing for the past year.

Nothing could have prepared me for what I found when I opened the door leading into my bedroom. Sitting on my bed with her head bowed and her long hair falling in front of her face was Hermione. Slowly she looked up and I saw the tears that covered her face, only then hearing her sobs. I didn't even ask myself what she was doing there, I simply went to her and pulled her into my arms as I sat on the edge of my bed next to her. Her sobs intensified as I did so and she buried her face in my shirt while I leaned my chin on top of her head and held her in silence. I don't think I could have found the right words anyway.

Gently pulling her down with me on the bed, I got us into a comfortable sleeping position and she obediently followed my lead. I laid on my back and she on her side, her arm and head resting on my chest as she still cried openly. Caressing her hair with my free hand, I waited as she cried herself to sleep in my arms. Then I closed my own eyes and let the lovely warmth of her body against mine and her regular breathing lull me to sleep. I didn't want to think about this. Hermione was hurt, Hermione had come to me and I would simply be there, without fearing that she might find out the truth about the kiss. In addition to which, feeling her body against mine was simply divine.

The delicious smell of bacon pulled me from sleep that morning, but my unfamiliar surroundings were what truly woke me up. Raising myself up on one elbow, I gave the room a circular look, my brows knitted together. It took me quite a long moment to remember that I was in Harry's room but when I finally did, I dropped back on the bed with a sigh. I had made a fool of myself, I simply knew it.

I'd taken the afternoon off, which had shocked my secretary, Pearl, beyond words and had headed home, only to find that an empty flat was of no comfort (Crookshanks was still pouting from having been disrupted the night before). Grabbing my apparation key -a rather clever object that allowed people to pass through someone's apparating guards- and sliding it in the back pocket of the jeans I'd changed into, I apparated to Harry's flat and waited, sitting on his bed, until he got home. When I heard him apparate from the hall, I broke into a new fit of sobs, part of it pain and part of it relief. Finally, I wouldn't be so alone.

He had understood without a word, allowing me to fall asleep in his arms as I cried without once asking for an explanation. And apparently, he had woken up and let me sleep. I turned and looked over at the muggle clock on his nightstand, finding that it was almost ten. With a loud gasp, I jumped out of bed and checked the clock once more to make sure that I had seen right. I was horribly late for work. Harry's voice, coming from the kitchen, startled me.

'Don't worry. I owled work, you're not going today.'

'What?!' I said, even as a wave of relief washed over me. Pearl had certainly had an heart attack upon receiving the note from Harry. Leaving the bedroom to join Harry in the kitchen, I found him with his back to me, cooking. 'You did what? Harry! I can't miss work!'

'Sure you can. Notice how you're not at work right now?' he said without looking at me, a touch of humour in his voice. Usually, when he's that infuriating, I simply stomp my foot and turn away from him, but then I didn't, for some reason. Maybe because I knew he was right. 'Besides, the last thing you need to do right now is work. I've got not idea what's wrong but I know that someone looking like that hasn't got any business locking themselves and burying themselves in books. Even you.'

With that, he turned with a frying pan in his hand and filled two plates with bacon, sausages and eggs. It was a horribly greasy looking breakfast but I couldn't help but lick my lips in anticipation. It smelled delicious. Moments later, he had placed the plates on the table next to two cups of coffee and as I had not moved, had gently pushed me in the direction of the closest seat. As soon as I was seated, I attacked the breakfast almost in a Ron fashion, far from the slow and deliberate eating I was known for. I was famished, which wasn't surprising considering I hadn't eaten much at lunch and nothing after that. My plate was half empty when I caught Harry's amused expression from the corner of my eye. Pausing, I frowned at him and lowered my fork. 'What?'

'Nothing. I'd just never realized they didn't feed you at that museum of yours,' he said with a grin on his face before bringing a fork full of egg and bacon to his mouth.

'Very funny. I just wasn't didn't have the stomach for food yesterday,' I explained, careful not to say anything that would reveal what had caused me to react so strongly. It was both out of consideration for Ron, since he'd made it quite clear that he wanted it to be a surprise, and because I still had no idea why I had. I knew I wasn't in love with Ron anymore, so why? Maybe because it made me feel more lonely than I ever had before. Or worse, maybe it made me feel like I wasn't worth being loved. If Luna Lovegood made a better life partner than I did, what did I have to look forward to? Not that I didn't appreciate Luna, she was simply...peculiar.

'I can imagine,' Harry simply said, not pushing for an explanation. The raven-haired boy was looking down at his plate so he missed my grateful smile, but his eyes lighted up as soon as he looked up at me.

'Thank you, Harry. For everything.'

The way she was looking at me made all my worries disappear. Ever since I had found her crying on my bed the previous night, I had been terrified for her, her silence leaving me with no other options but to worry. I had woken up with her sleeping form still molded to the contours of my body and for a few minutes I had allowed myself to cherish the moment, forgetting that she wasn't my girlfriend and that anything was wrong. For a single moment, everything had been perfect. And then the worry had rushed back in and I had gotten out of bed to owl both our employers to inform them of our absence. I knew Tonks would probably put me through extra shifts for that later in the week, but I could not be bothered by that at the moment.

'You all right?' I finally asked and she offered me a nod as a simple response before returning to her food. Seeing her eat like that had also brought me comfort, even if it was a bit unsettling at first. She was usually so posed, which always offered such a big contrast with Ron at meal time. Hermione chewed her food carefully and made sure she swallowed before speaking, while Ron often spoke with his mouth full and sometimes ended up with more food on his face than in his stomach.

The rest of the day was simply perfect. After a quick stop at Hermione's flat to feed her cat and for her to change clothes we headed out to a muggle movie theatre, then grabbed supper at a restaurant. Sleep had not been the key to help my mood from the previous day, Hermione had. Even if my feelings for her tortured me, they also lifted me to a state of happiness like no other. Any time spent with her was absolute perfection. The memory of that day helped me through the week and on to the weekend, when we were all due for a supper feast at the Burrow to celebrate Ginny's engagement. It wasn't by far a formal event, but those gatherings were always rather pleasant so everyone was looking forward to it. We were a large family, loving and united.

We were all sitting around the table, which had been made several feet longer by use of magic, when I saw Hermione pale considerably at my side. With a frown, I followed her gaze and saw that Ron had stood. He cleared his throat, gaining everybody's attention.

'I have an announcement to make.'

Author's Note: We kind of know what's coming, don't we? It's a bit of a sudden ending, but I wanted it to be a 'oh, shit - way to ruin the moment, Ron' moment. I have to say, once more time, that Hermione is no longer in love with Ron. That's in the past. But her reaction ties in with issues she's had over not feeling pretty and being undeserving of love. But can you guess what Harry will think when he realizes that Ron's marriage proposal to Luna is the reason why she was crying? I will try to update as soon as possible.

Author�s Note: Two updates in 24 hours. While I�m supposed to be studying and writing papers. I swear, you guys will be the end of me (I actually wrote a 12 pages paper today in addition of this, so I hope you guys like it! ;) ). Once again, thank you for the reviews, they were all very much appreciated and all replied to.

I was having a good time, trading jokes with Ginny and watching Harry and Draco be themselves, throwing subtle insults that sometimes weren�t so subtle at each other. The food was amazing, as always. I was happy. So obviously, it was doomed.

�You know, Potter, it would be really ironical, after facing Voldemort and surviving, if you choked on a bone and died. Ever mentioned I appreciate the fine art of irony?� Draco said slowly and deliberately, drawing his eyes away from Ginny to turn to Harry, who was sitting opposite him at the table. That earned him a good smack behind the head from his fianc�e before Harry could even reply and we all shared a laugh, the twins apparently finding that exchange of great amusement if their roaring laughter was any indication. I was still laughing when I caught movement from the corner of my eye and instinctively turned to look at what it was.

I felt my stomach sink when I saw that Ron was standing up and the pain that had brought me to tears earlier in the week returned tenfold. I think perhaps I had tried to forget what he had planned to do tonight, because it had been easier to go through the week thinking about the wonderful day Harry and I had had together without having to remember why we had spent said day together. And now, Ron had to go and ruin it all. A soon as the thought crossed my mind, I shook my head lightly to chase it away. It wasn�t his fault, I couldn�t allow myself to think like that. It wasn�t fair to Luna and him.

I sensed Harry shift on his seat next to me but I didn�t look at him, simply because I could not tear my eyes away from Ron. The redhead waited to be sure he had gained everybody�s attention, then turned to the blonde sitting next to him. She wore her hair up in an intricate design with her wand protruding from it like Chinese sticks and the necklace made of woven paperclips she�d worn every time I�d seen her since she�d lost her butterbeer cork necklace. It was a bit peculiar, but it actually looked good on her.

�Luna. The past months have been the most exciting, most mind-boggling of my life. And considering what I went through at Hogwarts, believe me, it�s quite something.�

Everybody gave a small laugh, except me.

�And the only thing I wish is for the rest of my life to be exactly the same.�

Mrs. Weasley gasped and clasped her hand over her mouth. I didn�t.

�Will you marry me?� Ron finished, pushing his chair back and getting on one knee in front of his girlfriend. Luna stared dreamingly at him for a moment, her big blue eyes lost in his, then she gave a small nod. A large smile on his face, Ron took her hand in his and slipped a diamond ring around her finger before pulling her in for a kiss. The room erupted in claps and cries of joy, and I tried to join in, but my heart truly wasn�t in it. Ron�s family gathered around him, his brothers giving him congratulatory slaps on the back and his sister jumping in his arms as she literally squealed with glee. Knowing nobody would notice my absence, I slowly got up and left the room, heading up the stairs in silence. I climbed until I finally reached Ginny�s old room and laid down on her bed just as I felt the first tears roll down my cheeks.

The sound of someone coming up the stairs made me realize that I had been wrong, that someone had indeed noticed that I was missing. �Hermione?�

I pushed open the door slowly, looking for the brunette I had seen walk away from the dining room. I now had a pretty good hint of what had upset her earlier in the week and even though the implications of that hurt beyond words, I simply couldn�t stay away. If I couldn�t be her boyfriend, then at least I would be the best of friends. Because losing her completely would hurt even more than never having her.

She didn�t answer when I called out her name, but I finally caught sight of her on Ginny�s old bed and I walked in, closing the door behind me. The room was in pitch darkness and I felt my way to the bed with my hand, sitting on its edge once I finally reached it. As my eyes got accustomed to the darkness, I saw her wipe away stray tears.

�Is this why you were upset on Tuesday?� I tried, clinging to the hope that is was all just a coincidence. A small �yes� was her simple answer and once more, I felt my heart sink. I was about to ask her if she wanted to talk about it even if I knew it would probably be the end of me, but she spoke before I could say anything.

�I feel so stupid. I don�t love him anymore, I really don�t. It�s just that�he�s been the only one, you know?� she said, sitting up on the bed and pulling her legs against her chest before encircling them with her arms. �He�s been the only that�s ever really loved me. We were together for over three years and not once did we talk about marriage. I thought perhaps, the problem was both of us, but��

Her honest revelation about not having feelings for Ron would probably have made me grin like an idiot had the circumstances been different but I knew it was neither the time nor place for that. I reached out and caressed her arm softly in a reassuring manner. She offered me a thankful smile before she continued.

�If Luna makes a better wife than me, what do I really have to look forward to? All this time, it wasn�t Ron and I that had been the problem. It was simply me.�

�No! Mione, don�t say that. You�re a beautiful, wonderful, smart woman. Anybody would be crazy not to want to be with you.� I blurted out before I could realize what I was saying. Good job, Harry. She�ll never figure it out now.

�Harry. I�ve only had one steady boyfriend in my entire life span and he�s marrying a lunatic! I think it�s a pretty good indication that I�ll end up alone!�

She said all of this very fast on a slightly angered tone which she immediately seemed to regret. With a sigh, she stretched her legs in front of her and leaned her head back on the headboard. �I�m sorry, I think I�I think I better head home. Tell the others I wasn�t feeling well, okay?�

I nodded in silence and she got up, reaching for her wand in her back pocket. Before she could disapparate, I reached out and wrapped my fingers around her wrist, stopping her. She turned to me with a frown and waited for me to stand up and face her. Silently, I cupped her face with my hands and pressed my lips to her forehead gently, my nose in her hair. She wrapped her arms around me and pressed herself against my chest, taking comfort in my presence. My lips leaving her forehead, I leaned my chin on top of her head and we remained like that in pure silence for a while.

�There�s someone in the world for you, Hermione, someone that can love you and cherish you for the rest of your life. That will take care of you no matter what.�

I felt her smile against my chest and she nodded softly, then took a step back and disapparated. After staring into the empty spot left by her absence for a few seconds, I hung my head and sighed. It was the absolute truth, someone loved her. I loved her.

I apparated into my empty flat and stumbled back onto the couch behind me, bewildered. The sudden realization that had hit me as I was in Harry�s arms had left me shocked beyond words.

Being in his arms had felt so perfect, as if I was home, finally. As if nothing could ever make me cry again, or make me hurt again. All thoughts of loneliness were forgotten and in his arms was the only place I ever wanted to be for the rest of my life.

And then it had been clear, a little too clear even. How could I have not seen it before? How could I have been so stupid?

I was in love with Harry. Completely and utterly.

�What midnight kiss?� Ron asked with his brow knitted together, looking over at his sister. I shifted uncomfortably on my seat and peered down into my half empty glass of fire whiskey. The now adult Weasley children, their life partners and I were sitting in the living room, having a drink and talking. Mr. and Mrs. Weasley had gone to bed almost an hour before.

I wasn�t at all comfortable with the direction in which the conversation was now heading, ever since Ginny had asked me if Hermione had finally figured out who her midnight kisser was and I had shaken my head, eager to change the subject. But Ron had chosen that moment to turn away from his own private conversation with his fianc�e to enter ours.

When I looked up again, I noticed Ginny�s eyes were on me, giving me a suspicious look. I raised my glass to my lips and downed the remaining liquor, refraining a cough because it was so horribly strong that it burned as it went down. When my eyes returned to Ginny, she was now giving Ron the whole tale. His eyes were wide and he didn�t say a thing for the whole time. I couldn�t decide if his face expressed shock or anger. Knowing that I couldn�t stand seeing an upset Ron overreact over the kiss, I got to my feet and left the room, heading for the kitchen. There, I dropped my glass in the sink and turned my back to it to lean against the counter. A loud gasp escaped my mouth when I saw Ginny standing a feet meters in front of me, her arms crossed over her chest and her piercing eyes on me.

�Are you going to tell her?�

I�d probably imagined that. She couldn�t possibly have said those words. �What?�

�Were you ever going to tell Hermione that you�re the one who kissed her?� Ginny continued, taking a few steps in my direction. I wanted to back away from her knowing stare but my back was already to the counter and I was trapped.

�What are you talking about, I-I didn�t�� I stammered, trying to sound innocent even if I knew it was hopeless. Ginny sighed with exasperation and her arm suddenly split the air as she hit me on the shoulder. I gasped at the sharp pain and rubbed my arm where she�d hit me. You could easily see she�d had plenty of experience in dealing with boys, growing up with six brothers and that she knew being gentle never quite sufficed. At the very least, my arm clearly felt it.

�Don�t try that with me, Harry Potter. I was obsessed with you for my first three years at Hogwarts, I�ve observed you enough to be able to read you like a book,� she said indignantly, as if she could not believe I was trying to lie to her. Personally, what had me troubled was learning that she�d basically stalked me for three years, even though I�m not exactly sure that�s what she meant. It certainly put in new perspective all the things I�d done when I thought nobody was watching.

Knowing I couldn�t fool her now, I let out a sigh and let my shoulders sag. �Ginny, please, keep it secret��

�Like hell, I will! Harry, if you don�t tell her, I will!� she let out, wide-eyed. She waved a finger in my face as she continued, making me lean further back against the counter. �I�ve watched you dance around your feelings for her for way too long, Harry. It�s time she knows.�

I felt almost violated, knowing that she could read me so well. For some reason, it felt right when Hermione was doing it, but with Ginny, it was different. I didn�t want to be this bare in front of her, the only one I could stand being this open to was Hermione. But how could Ginny know and not Hermione?

�Do you think she knows?� I asked, my voice shaking. If she knew and hadn�t said a word, then it truly meant she felt nothing for me. She was trying to spare my feelings, hoping that I�d keep it quiet and would move on eventually. In front of me, Ginny sighed and lowered her arm, all anger fleeing from her brown eyes. Her mouth formed a small pout as she shook her head slowly.

�She�s lonely Harry, she clings to you because you�re there and that makes her blind to your very obvious feelings for her, because in her mind you�ve always been there. When things went south with Ron, she clung to you. When she�s had a bad day, she goes to you. She�s probably the smartest person in England, Harry, but she�s hurting. And her pain is clouding her judgement.�

I tried to take all that in. I had no choice now, either by my doing or Ginny�s, Hermione would eventually know. For a moment, I considered begging Ginny to keep it silent, but from the look she gave me, I knew it would be of no use. Finally, I hung my head and sighed, giving in.

�Give me a week?� I pleaded, lifting my eyes to meet hers.

She seemed to consider it for moment, then she nodded, turning away and heading back where she�d come from. Suddenly, she whirled around and pointed a finger at me as she spoke. �If by Sirius� birthday party, you haven�t told her, then I will. Everything, the kiss, your feelings�everything. That�s one week extra, lucky you.�

I gave an unenthusiastic cheer and she smirked, spinning on her heels and leaving the kitchen. With a long sigh, I crossed my arms over my chest and turned to look out the window into the pitch-dark backward of The Burrow.

Two weeks.

I needed to have a talk with Ron.

Author�s Note: I always thought Ginny was scary, a bit like Mrs. Weasley. But I love her (not HBP-her, but definitely fanon-her). Hope you guys enjoyed the fluff and the promise of a party, because (hint) you should be looking forward to it ;) Next update should follow shortly.

Author's Note: I'm sorry if this came out later than I'd promised, but someone I worked with committed suicide on Tuesday, so my week was filled with tears and funerals. I wasn't much in the romance/humor mood. I got to university during the week, full time, and work 20 hours in a grocery store, so my free time is minimal. Today was it ;) I hope you guys enjoy it anyway.
Also, thank you to Sen (love you twar much) who dealt with my insanity and reviewed all the previous chapters and this one with me.

The next day did not go according to plan. It went opposite of according to plan, starting with me being buried under a large pile of overdue reports, on a Sunday no less, and ending with me falling asleep sitting at my desk. I'd come in to clear most of my schedule and make sure I would not have such a busy week. I hoped it would allow me to spend some time thinking about what I would say to Ron, and more importantly, about what I would say to Hermione. But the amount of work I was facing was more important than I'd ever imagined, a good portion of which was overdue work. When had I gotten so lazy?

Waking up with my face stuck to an open file on the top of my desk had been marvelous. Stiff neck, growling stomach, splitting headache. The essentials of a good morning. I seriously felt as though I'd gotten plastered the night before and that only made the fact that this was Monday morning even more nauseating.

Even worse was the fact that this marked day two of my allowed two weeks and I still wasn't any closer to talking to either Ron or Hermione.

After a quick floo at home, I returned to work, exhausted but intent on finishing as quickly as possible. I actually succeeded in doing so by 2 in the afternoon. It came as a great shock to me, but also to Tonks, who gave me a wide-eyed look as I dropped the one foot thick pile of reports on her desk. By then, I could barely stand, my eyes were burning terribly and my stomach had probably started digesting itself. That probably explains why I collapsed on the couch as soon as I got home and fell asleep. When I woke up, it was Tuesday. Day three.

Sunday morning had been horrifying. I'd not slept much, my newly revealed feelings for Harry having kept me awake for most of the night, and I spent the day cleaning my flat thoroughly, because at least that allowed me to not think about how much trouble I was in. In love with Harry? Now that would truly be the end of me.

Not that the prospect of being in love with Harry was so horrifying in itself. I'd actually gone through it once, mostly during our third and fourth years at Hogwarts, but I'd soon dismissed it as a teenage crush. Harry and I were just friends and we were doing a great job at that. Except that I was in love with him.

Ginny invited me over for supper on Monday but I declined the invitation, knowing that I wouldn't be able to resist blurting out the whole truth if I was in the same room as her. Her ability to make people spill the beans always terrified me, but I guess it's only natural, having grown up with Mrs. Weasley as a model and the twins as test dummies. So my Monday was spent working very much accordingly to the clock hanging on my office wall, cross-referencing things from our collection for the new Beauxb�tons Histoire de la Magie teacher. When Tuesday morning came, finding me asleep on the couch where I'd dozed off while reading a book, I'd successfully avoided thinking about Harry for two whole days. Except for the dozens of times when I did think about him. But at least, I'd avoided reflecting on what I was going to do. It was unlike me in pretty much every way possible, but it's what I needed. After the emotional rollercoaster of the last week, the last thing I needed was to come clean to Harry about my feelings for him and listen to him babble that while he loved me, he simply wasn't in love with me.

'Hello Harry,' a serene voice called as Luna walked in the kitchen where I was having breakfast and sat opposite me at the table. Her waist-length hair was floating around her like a veil, giving her a dreamy look, as if I wasn't completely awake. With a glance at my bowl of cereal, she let out a disapproving sigh and I smiled while still chewing on my food. Her comment would surely light up my Tuesday morning. 'It won't do.'

I was shocked. Not only had that made sense, it actually sounded like something Hermione would say, scolding me on my unbalanced eating habits. Swallowing, I tried to explain that I was in a hurry but she shook her head, shutting me up. 'I wasn't talking about the food. I was talking about her.'

My jaw dropped and before I could come up with anything coherent to say, Ron walked in. I tried not to stare as he wrapped his arms around his fianc�e's shoulders from behind her, slightly bent forward, and leaned his chin on the top of her head. She didn't make much of it, reaching for an apple in the fruit basket in front of her and taking a bite out of it. I don't think my presence made much of a difference, Ron seemed completely out of it, a content smile on his face. Eventually, Luna announced that she had to go to work (she wrote for her father in The Quibbler, a job that suited her very well) and she kissed Ron as she got up before flooing to work. She didn't like apparating for some reason, something about an aunt having spread all over the United Kingdom. Having seen some rather horrific apparating accidents in my line of duty, I had to admit that story actually sounded plausible.

Ron sat in Luna's now empty chair and smiled at me. Shaking my head at the sight of my best friend being so taken with his girlfriend, I got up and placed my now empty bowl in the sink, chanting the incantation to have it clean itself as I waved my wand over it, then put it back in my pocket.

'I swear mate, once you get engaged, the sex just gets even better.'

Had I still been eating, I probably would have choked. With wide eyes, I turned to Ron and simply glared.

'Bloody hell, Harry. I know you've been a saint for the past year or so, but that's no reason for acting appalled like some girl,' Ron said with a smirk on his face. 'Speaking of which, what's up with that? Granted, you were never the one night stand kind, but no girlfriends, no dates?'

There, that was my window of opportunity. I simply had to come clean, to tell him that there was someone but that I'd been holding back, largely on account of him. Taking a deep breath, I gathered all of my courage and simply said the words. 'There is somebody. It's just complicated.'

Merlin, I'd done it.

'Now, that's what I like to hear,' Ron said, pushing his chair back so that he could more easily turn to look at me, as I was standing behind him. 'Except the whole complicated part. Why's that?'

'Well, it's someone I've known for a long time and she's got... a history that's not easily dealt with,' I began, rattling my brain for what to say next. How about, I'm desperately in love with your ex, want to kill me now or should I come back later? Quick and effective. Not to mention, deadly.

'Hogwarts girl?' Ron asked, getting up and pouring himself a cup of coffee before adding about five sugar cubes to it. My throat was drier than the Sahara so I simply nodded. Ron leaned his back to the counter next to me and tasted his coffee, apparently waiting for me to continue. That was the point of no return, I knew it. Now that he knew I was interested in a girl we'd gone to Hogwarts with, I'd never see the end of it. And obviously, in less than two weeks, he would know anyway.

I just didn't expect him to beat me to the punch.

'So, Hermione, huh?' Ron said between two sips of coffee on a nonchalant tone. All the blood drained from my face and my breath caught in my throat as I stared at him in consternation. A smug smile on his face, he walked over to the table and dropped back in his seat. How could he possibly have known? More importantly, if he knew, why hadn't he killed me in my sleep yet? While my internal debate went on, I was vaguely aware of Ron browsing through the Daily Prophet, apparently unaffected by my silence.

Finally, it hit me. My face red, parted between being furious and feeling relieved, I let out a long sigh. 'Ginny told you.'

'Ginny told me,' Ron said with a nod, closing the Prophet and leaning back in his chair.

'Why am I not dead yet?' I began, almost regretting saying the words as soon as they were out. Inviting hostilities certainly wasn't a smart move. I watched as Ron got up and faced me, his arms crossed over his chest. He was still wearing pajama pants and a t-shirt, even though it was almost 8 in the morning and he ought to be heading to Gringotts soon. He took a few steps towards me and I was suddenly reminded of facing Voldemort, years before, and thinking that this was the end of me. I was sure that at any moment, a blow would land on my face and he'd break my jaw.

Any second now.

But suddenly, his serious expression faded and he broke into a loud laugh. For the second time in five minutes, I was left speechless.

'Harry, mate! Sure, had this been two years ago, I probably would have killed your sorry arse. But, now? I'm with Luna. Hermione and I, we're quite done. And personally, I think it's wicked.'

'Pardon me?' I said, blinking, in shock. Placing his hand squarely on my shoulder, Ron sighed and looked at me as though I was an idiot child he had to explain something to. I was starting to believe that I truly was, because none of what he had said in the past minutes made any kind of sense to me.

'I think it's great. Hermione and you? If I had to chose a guy for her, you'd be the best candidate. Frankly, I think you two deserve each other.'

With that, he turned away from me and left the kitchen without giving me time to reply. Minutes later, it started to sink in that I'd actually had 'the talk' with Ron. And that it had gone well. To say I'd expected it to go wrong would have been an understatement. I think I even wanted it to go wrong, in a way, because then I'd have an excuse for not being able to tell Hermione. Not that I wasn't ready to fight for her, I just wasn't certain there was anything to fight for. My feelings weren't returned, as far as I knew, and they might never be. Maybe Ron thought we deserved each other, but that didn't mean Hermione wanted me.

The talk with Ron was off my plate. Now I needed to tell Hermione about my feelings for her. I also needed to tell her about the midnight kiss.

Tuesday was probably the worst day of my adult life. It began with the artifacts for our next exhibit having been delivered to Austria and an emergency owl from a very panicked curator. It continued on with a full day of working with no meal whatsoever, from 6 am to 8 pm. I came home and was unable to find Crookshanks, no matter how many times I actually tried to Accio him. The rest of my week hadn't been much more brilliant, the highlight of it all being a hundred pieces that were delivered to our museum by mistake and a large portion of them ending up being stored in my own office temporarily, because our storage space was already filled to the brink. When Friday finally came, I was more than ready to leave all this behind. I'd never been one to buckle under the demands of my job, or under any pressure for that is, but that week had been it for me. It had been one long chain of troubles and I was starting to think that this year wasn't looking too good. Ron getting engaged, work starting to be too much when it was supposed to be a quiet period, the secret kisser I didn't have the time to think about anymore... And on top of it all, my feelings for Harry. I'd avoided him all week, owling back that I was too busy (which quite frankly, wasn't really a lie) everytime he'd want to meet up for lunch. I just wasn't ready to deal with this yet. I needed to think this through, I needed the logic all of this was lacking. I needed the Hermione perspective.

I was heading out, when something in the corner of my office caught my eye. It was sort of a soft silvery glow and it sparked my interest, causing me to explore further into the mass of artifacts I hadn't yet had the time to examine to find the source. When finally I did, I stood there and marvelled. It was a Pensieve, granted an old one, but a Pensieve nonetheless. And just the thing I needed. Throwing a nervous glance over my shoulder to make sure that I was alone, I took out my wand and pressed the tip against my temple. Hoping I was doing it right (for all my readings on Pensieves, it was actually the first time I was using one), I pulled the memory I wanted to revisit from my mind and put it in the Pensieve. It felt odd, as if my mind were suddenly clearing. It wasn't anywhere close to a fresh plate, but it did feel like some pressure was taken off my shoulders. Taking a deep breath, I then bent forward and peered down into the stone basin. Before I knew it, I felt myself tumbling forward, falling into the memory as if I was falling off a cliff. I landed rather disgracefully on a bench next to the entrance of the ballroom, letting out a loud grunt of pain. .

It took me a few seconds to regain my composure, as I was still feeling the exhilaration from the fall, but when I finally did, I gave an astounded look at the people that walked past me as if I werent even there. None of them seemed to notice that I had just fallen from the sky, or that I was waving my hands in front of their eyes. Of course, if this were a memory, none of them would be able to see me, would they? This was a memory after all and not a visit to the past as I could have done with a Time-Turner. I was merely there as an observant, not an actor.

The thought seemed to wake me up, reminding that I was there for a reason. Diving into the crowd, I made my way to where I remembered standing when it had happened, growing more and more nervous as people started counting down the seconds leading up to midnight. I'd just about made it there, when the room was plunged into darkness. Cursing under my breath, I waited for the light to return and when it did, I found myself facing my ownself.

I watched as I pressed my fingers against my lips, a dazed look on my face that would make Luna proud. But watching my own reaction would teach me nothing. Turning away from myself, I looked around for a familiar face, for a man that would be looking at me in a revealing way. No luck. I was just about to give up when I finally spotted someone, simply not the person I was looking for. A raven-haired wizard was making his way through the crowd and I stared, transfixed, as he turned around and looked straight at me.

But no, it couldn't be. I wasn't thinking rationally. This was a Pensieve, I was visiting one of my memories. Harry couldn't see me, he was only staring at something else and I was simply standing between him and that. But the way he looked at me made me feel more special than I'd ever felt in my whole life. It made me feel like running up to him and kissing him. It made me feel loved.

Holding my breath, I started to turn, not sure if I wanted to see who he was looking at. If it was another woman, I would probably collapse in a heap of tears. On the other hand, if the person he was looking at in such a way was a man, I would probably kill myself. But suddenly, I felt myself being pulled back, as if an arm were hooked around my waist. I emerged from the Pensieve, stumbling backward clumsily through the wooden cases and almost falling over. Giving the Pensieve a longing look, I wanted nothing more but to go back in and stand between whatever Harry was looking at and him, so that his loving stare would rest on me. So that I would feel what it could possibly feel like to be loved back by Harry. I knew better though. Collecting back the thought and putting it where it belonged, I grabbed my cloak and purse and headed out into the apparating hall (we couldn't possibly have people apparating all over the exhibits without paying to see them). It was enough for today.

After a surprising conversation with Ron, I set out to meet up with Hermione so that we'd have a chance to talk. Throughout the week, she dodged every single lunch date, claiming she was too busy, which I had to admit was probably true. I kept busy myself, going on a basic field mission on Thursday to keep an eye on Knockturn Alley and helping train new Aurors for the rest of the week. Most of the them seemed awed to meet me but I didn't make much of it. I was used to people staring at my scar, no matter how much I made sure my hair covered it.

When I came back from work on Friday night, Ron suggested getting pissed but I declined. He made a crack about moping over Hermione, making me think that he was enjoying that whole situation a bit too much. It was even destabilizing. Waking up on Monday, the first thought that crossed my mind was that I had wasted a week.

Author's Note:
In case some of you didn't know, 'pissed' refers to 'drunk', in the UK anyway. That paragraph doesn't make any sense when you don't know.
Hope you guys liked it. The title of this chapter refers to two things, 'One Down' as in one week over, but also as in, one conversation down, one to go. Also, yay, used my mother tongue in that one (french)! Histoire de la Magie is obviously History of Magic.
I remember someone leaving a review after the first chapter that said 'Ron would be angry at first, then learn to accept them' so I think it was probably the general idea. But sincerely, I did not want to make this too much of a Ron/Hermione/Harry story, not more than it already is. Ron is a good person and he's never been an asshole in my eyes. I don't think I could ever write him as one. While deep down, he might feel a little pinch at the thought of Harry and Hermione together (I mean, who would love to see their ex and their best friend together? Personally, it's a situation I'm currently living with, and quite comfortably so, even if it was a bit weird at first), he is deeply in love with Luna and engaged to be married. His feelings for Hermione are something of the past and while she's still more special to him than she was in the early Hogwarts years, she's just a friend he's now looking out for.
Now the question is, who wants to kill Ginny?

Author's Note: Apparently, some of you took the 'who wants to kill Ginny?' as an indication that someone in the story would try to kill Ginny, which I swear is not gonna happen (well, Harry might ;)). I just mean, who among you is pissed at her for opening her big mouth :p?

Anyhow, here's an update, got done with it much much later than I expected to and for that I am very very sorry. I just got busy with school, work and then the holidays and it all was just too much. So I made it extra long and with lots of stuff you people have been looking forward too, according to your reviews anyway.

I hope you guys enjoy this and that you all have spent a nice holiday period.

A great green flame swallowed me as I entered the fireplace, carefully articulating my destination. Ever since the summer before my second year at Hogwarts and the flooing accident as a result of which I'd ended up in Knockturn Alley, I'd been careful when flooing. I preferred apparating by far, except when coming home directly from my office (it had its own fireplace, and guards prevented anyone from apparating in or out of the Auror quarters for safety measures). But without an apparating key to where I was headed, I couldn't gain access and this was the only way I was allowed in.

'Ginny?' was the first thing I said as I stepped out of the fireplace in the youngest Weasley's flat. I heard a gasp from another room as a response and a few moments later, a red-faced, messy-haired Ginny came out of her room, buttoning her blouse.

'Blimey Harry, you scared me half to death!' she exclaimed as soon as she saw me, placing both hands firmly on her hips. I could hear shifting coming from the room she'd just left and with a grimace, I let out a loud groan. Sure enough, Draco came out a few seconds later, also looking flustered.

'Potter.'

'Malfoy,' I replied, my jaw set. Those were the most cordial salutations we'd probably ever managed. Now, don't get me wrong, I think Ginny and Draco make the perfect pair, but that doesn't mean I have to be able to stand him. Sure, he sometimes went out with Ron and I, and it seems that he's much better company when he's blind drunk, but that was it. I was glad to see him turn around and go back into the room before closing the door behind him. Remembering why I was there, I turned to Ginny and simply glared.

I was expecting her to sheepishly look down or something of the sort, but instead she held my gaze, making me feel uncomfortable in the end. Sensing this, she smirked at me and finally spoke. 'I'm guessing you had a talk with Ron?'

The way she said it made me want to cast the Bat-Bogey hex on her, to give her a taste of her own medicine. I couldn't do it nearly as well as she could, I was in a good position to know, but it would still be terribly unpleasant. 'You gave me two weeks, Ginny. I can't believe you told him!'

I'd wanted to have that talk with her for the last few days, terrified that if she'd broken her promise by telling Ron, she would tell Hermione, too. I'd tried to get in touch with Hermione without much luck, hoping to get to her first, then I�d simply decided to make sure Ginny would keep her mouth shut for at least another week. Not that I was really mad she'd told Ron, it probably had been for the best: his mature reaction had been in no doubt influenced by the fact that he'd been told in advance about my feelings for Hermione. I just needed to be sure that when it came to Hermione, the revelation would come from me and not Ginny.

Ginny's reaction to my complaint was a giggle, then she shook her red mane and sighed. 'Harry, I told you I wouldn't tell Hermione before Sirius' party, I never said anything about Ron.'

I parted my lips, ready to shout back an argument, but came up with none. My mouth slightly hanging, I stared at her, stunned.

'Harry, if I told Ron, it's because I knew that it would go across better that way. Let's face it, if you'd just blurted out that you have feelings for Hermione in his face, he would probably have reacted pretty strongly. But that would have simply been because of the shock and I know you would have interpreted it differently. After that, you just would have choked and not told Hermione. We don't want that, now, do we?'

Damn, I hate it when she's right.

With a sigh, I signalled that I'd given up by raising my hands with my palms out in front of me and turned away from her to go sit on the couch. She followed me, but remained standing as I passed one hand in my already messy hair nervously and sighed yet again.

'I tried to tell her, you know. Well, I tried to meet up with her, anyway. She dodged every lunch date,' I began, not at all sure where this was going. Was that my excuse for not having told Hermione yet? In truth, it had been more than a year, not just one week. I'd seen her almost every day during that year. Even if she'd agreed to meet up with me, there was no guarantee that I'd have had the courage to come clean about what I felt for her. 'I know that it should come from me, but it's just hard, Gin. What if she doesn't love me? That'd put really an uncomfortable tension between us and I can't have that. I'd rather be a friend to her than nothing at all.'

I was expecting her to tell me that I was wrong, or maybe I even foolishly hoped a little for a big revelation, but Ginny remained silent. Dreading the worst, I looked up at her and my fears were confirmed. She stood there, a pitiful expression on her face, apparently at a loss for words. 'I'm sorry Harry. I wish I could tell you that she loves you too, but frankly, I don't know. Hermione's very private about her emotions. She tells me things, she told me about the kiss, but she doesn't tell me everything.'

'It's fine. I'll just have to make a man out of myself and tell her. I faced Voldemort, how hard could it be?' I said, half joking. The knot in my stomach made it quite clear to me how hard telling Hermione the truth would be.

While Saturday had been stressful, Sunday was gearing up to be much more enjoyable. It was the first thing that crossed my mind as I opened my eyes and blinked a few times to bring my vision into focus. I was laying comfortably on my stomach, the warm duvet weighing down delightfully on me. The previous day had been a series of incoming owls from curators all over Europe, because somewhere, some new recruit had screwed up and orders kept being delivered in the wrong museums as it had been the case during the week. It was really the curator's job, but as usual, everyone turned to me. I guess it's the price I have to pay for being so organized and effective. Today, I would be resting. Any and every job-related owls would be ignored, I decided while rolling on my back and stretching my arms. I would actually sit down and have a real meal, then take a long warm bath before heading out to buy Sirius a present for his birthday. Maybe I would even get lucky and run into Harry.

Avoiding him for fear of revealing my feelings to him was taking its toll. I missed him a great deal, especially after the experience with the Pensieve. I'd not seen him for a whole week and that was probably the most time we'd spent apart since we'd left Hogwarts.

Swinging my legs over the edge of the bed, I got up and headed for the kitchen. I found the Daily Prophet on top of the table, as left every morning by Bathilda, the Eurasian Tawny Owl I'd purchased after Ron had moved out, leaving me without a owl. I'd named it after the author of A History of Magic, which given my line of work, seemed proper. I always left the kitchen window open for her, having cast a charm on it so that the cold air wouldn't get in, as well as unwanted intruders. Taking a treat from a small pot on the counter, I offered it to her and she let out a pleased squeak from the stand on which she was perched.

I ate a full meal of eggs, oatmeal, fruit and juice while browsing through the newspaper and finding nothing interesting. The bath was marvellous; it released knots in every muscle, including some I didn't even remember existed. After getting ready rather quickly, I headed out to browse through muggle shops for Sirius� gift.

Even after years of knowing him, I found that getting him a present was much harder than for anybody else. For Harry, Ron, and even Ginny, it was a simple task, but Sirius was tricky. It took me the better half of the day before I finally settled on a beautiful black coat that cost me a little more than I�d planned to spend, but that pleased me as I was sure he would love it. Once that was out of the way, I went to Diagon Alley even though I was starving, to make some quick purchases for myself and while in a bookshop, fell face to face with Tonks.

�Hermione!� her voice called out from the other side of the table I was exploring, startling me out of my examination of a book on the history of house-elves. After a quick hug and kisses on the cheeks, we chatted a bit about generic things, but I could sense that there was a more important subject that she wanted to address. She just didn�t seem certain how to do so.

When finally I paid for my books and we were headed out, she gave in and bluntly asked me if something was wrong with Harry. My heart jumped in my chest at the mention of his name and I had to pause to regain my composure before I could answer without compromising myself. �Well, other than his best friend getting engaged, I can�t really see anything.�

And it was true. No, I hadn�t noticed anything wrong about Harry, everything was certainly very, very right about Harry. So right, in fact, that I�d fallen in love with him. Cursing myself for letting my train of thought go in that direction, I tried to focus on what the once pink-haired witch was telling me. Apparently, Harry had been working weird hours, not coming in some days to work on weekends instead. On top of it all, he had seemed to easily get irritated and sometimes came in with a rather awful mood.

What Tonks, Harry�s superior, was saying truly intrigued me. Every time I�d seen Harry in the past few weeks, he�d been nice, patient, understanding; the complete opposite of the description she was giving me. She was right, something must indeed have been wrong. But why would Harry try and hide that from me?

We parted and I headed home, not even giving the kitchen a second glance as I passed by. My appetite was gone; worry had taken its place. I simply didn�t understand why Harry would conceal that something was wrong from me. We�d always trusted each other with everything. I was about to dip my hand in the floo powder to head over to his flat when a thought stopped me. Not everything.

Pulling my hand away from the pot that was hung on a hook next to the fireplace, I went to sit on the couch, lost in thought. During our first years at Hogwarts, we�d been able to tell each other anything, or at least, anything that had true importance. But as we reached puberty, complete honesty became a much more delicate subject and now, I realized that we�d stopped being completely honest with each other for a considerable number of years. The simple fact that I was doing all I could to avoid revealing my feelings to him instead of being frank with him was proof enough.

But if I could hide something so huge from him, what could he be keeping away from me?

I sat there for a good hour, connecting the dots and most of all, marvelling at my idiocy. How could I not have seen it? Wasn�t I meant to be clever? The smartest witch in my class? Books were one thing, but when it came to relationships, I always lacked knowledge. Harry and Ron had taught me friendship; Ron had taught me love� But apparently, I made for a poor student in that last subject, to not have understood this before.

In my mind, I could see my excursion in the Pensieve replaying itself, except instead of being pulled out of the memory by my own anxiety, I completely turned. Logically, I found myself facing myself once more, because if Harry was looking in my present self�s direction, he was actually looking at the Hermione from the memory. I felt faint, recalling the look in his eyes, the way it made me feel. He had been looking at me, looking at me lovingly. The way he�d held me without asking for an explanation, the day he�d taken off to be with me. Even the breakfast he�d cooked me. As I thought back on those things, memories from the past year came rushing back, like how his hugs had been a bit longer, a bit more insistent, or how he would hold his breath, sometimes, when I accidentally rubbed against his body as I walked past him.

Was Harry my midnight kisser, and more importantly, was he in love with me? Or was I horribly wrong?

***

I simply stared at Tonks, my mouth hanging, still trying to process what she�d just said. It was only Monday morning and already, all hope of getting in touch with Hermione to finally tell her the truth had been crushed. Sure, I did have available time, but with what I�d just been informed of in mind, how could I tell Hermione about my feelings? I couldn�t tell her the truth and then leave.

Because that is what had me shocked beyond words. My superior had just told me that I was to be put on an assignment, an undercover mission for an indefinite period of time.

�Tonks, I don�t think ... I just�� I began to protest, but she raised one hand, silencing me.

�I�m sorry Harry, I know something�s been troubling you lately, but you�re the person we need for this. With your knowledge of Voldemort and of the Death Eaters� There�s just nobody else fit for this.�

I�d not been in many undercover missions, mainly because of my fame, which made it quite difficult to keep a low profile. I�d alter my appearance for some, as I assumed would be the case here if I were to be involved in Death Eater business. All of them knew perfectly well who I was and what I looked like. I knew this was an opportunity I should not pass, but I didn�t care.

�Are you absolutely sure there isn�t another way to approach the situation?� I tried, looking straight into her eyes. Her pink hair was now of a more conservative blonde, pulled back as it usually was when she was doing desk work, and her eyes were of a dark amber color that reminded me of Hermione�s own eyes. That thought only made my composure harder to maintain when all I wanted to do was yell. Tonks� only response was a nod.

I set my jaw and swallowed hard, resigned. �When will I be leaving?�

�Sunday night.�

***

�Ginny!� I exclaimed, stomping my foot. The redhead glared back at me and dropped down in her seat, crossing her arms over her chest. I�d erupted into her apartment, interrupting her in the middle of a heavy snogging session with Malfoy, as soon as I�d been able to get out from work on that Friday. I wasn�t sure whether she was angry at me for yelling at her or for disturbing them. Either way, Malfoy seemed to be rather enjoying the situation, sitting comfortably on a couch in corner of the living room with a smug smile on his face.

�I can�t tell you anything, Hermione!� Ginny shouted back from where she was sitting.

�So there is something to tell! I knew it! I knew you�d been hiding something from me!� I said in a reproachful tone, waving my hand in the air as I stepped towards her. She shook her head vividly, voicing a protest that stopped me dead in my tracks.

�I haven�t said anything, because there�s nothing I can say! Whatever it is you want to know about Harry, Hermione, I suggest you take it up with him, not me.�

To be frank, it�s not like that hadn�t been my first thought. Of course, I knew that the surest way to get a straight answer was to ask Harry himself. Yet, I�d found myself chickening out of the situation and going to Ginny�s instead.

After a second of hesitation, I threw a side glance in Malfoy�s direction, hating him for being a witness to my humiliation, then sighed. �What am I supposed to say, huh? Hello Harry, kissed me of the late?�

I heard a snicker coming from the corner in which Malfoy was sitting as soon as I was done talking. Instinctively, I turned to charge and hit him, resolving to muggle violence against him as I had once before in our third year, but Ginny was on her feet before I could take two steps in his direction. She grabbed my arm and stopped me, relatively gently, then threw a hard glare at her fianc�. �Hermione, any way you want to approach it, it�s going to be difficult. But Harry and you have been friends for so long, I�m sure that even if you�re wrong, he�d understand. Tell you what; if you�re wrong, you can even tell him that I told you that I thought it was him.�

�Great,� I said, rolling my eyes. I�d not told Ginny about the feelings I suspected from Harry, only about the kiss. I figured making a fool out of myself would be less lethal to my friendship with Harry if it were for a stupid midnight kiss than accusations of being in love with me.

Sitting amidst a ton of paper work on a Friday night, in the kitchen of my own flat certainly wasn�t my idea of fun. I sighed, turning the pages of a large file containing the information on the people I was to come in contact with during my field mission, and then drank some fire whisky. My glass was only half empty, but the combination of a sleepless night and alcohol was enough to make me rather drowsy.

I�d spent all night tossing and turning, unable to find sleep because I couldn�t take my mind off of Hermione. It seemed to be a recurring theme, lately. A loud crack behind my back made me jump and I almost dropped my glass on the table, recovering at the last second. I jerked my head back to see whom had apparated in my flat and almost let go of my glass a second time when my eyes came to rest upon Hermione. Setting the glass down and closing the file, I slowly got up, trying to remain calm.

That nearly became impossible when I got a good look at her. Her eyes were set on me, making me feel naked and uncomfortable. �Hermione?�

She didn�t say a word, only kept staring at me. The determined look on her face made me incredibly nervous, as if she could read my mind and there was nothing I could do to keep her from seeing the truth. Finally, she made a move, closing the distance between us in a handful of steps and then cupped my face with her hands. Getting up on her toes, as I was considerably taller than her, she pulled me in for a kiss that shocked me beyond words.

The feeling of her lips against mine was divine and I willingly gave in, wrapping my arms around her. It was even better than the midnight kiss because she was kissing me, not a stranger. She had made the first move, she had kissed me. The reason she had done so didn�t matter right now, the only important thing was Hermione�s lips and her body against mine.

Then suddenly, the moment was over and Hermione stepped back. I opened my eyes and we stared at each other in silence for a few seconds, both looking dazed, our lips swollen.

�I knew it�� Hermione whispered, breaking the silence. Then she looked up at me and I felt my breath catch in my throat. Her eyes were pleading.

�Hermione, I�� I began, powerless to find the right thing to say to her. I couldn�t tell her about my feelings for her now, and simply leave two days later for an indefinite period of time. It wouldn�t be fair to her.

�What does it mean, Harry? Are�are you in love with me?�

I lowered my eyes, unable to look at her. I wanted to come clean, to say yes and finally be able to stop pretending she was only a friend to me. To stop feeling guilty every time I looked at her in a way that wasn�t platonic or every time my heart jumped when she smiled to me. But I couldn�t.

�Look at me! Please, Harry!� Hermione said, her voice louder. I looked up, seeing the tears in her eyes.

�I�m sorry, Hermione, I don�t�� I began, unsure where this was going, but that soon was no longer an issue as Hermione cut me off with a sharp slap.

My hand was still in the air, hovering somewhere in the distance between him and me. I could see the imprint of my palm slowly appear on his cheek as his face remained slightly turned to the side from the impact.

I�d not felt such a rage since the final fight that had sparked my break-up with Ron years before, and what I was experiencing right then was probably even stronger. I wanted to hit him more, to scream, to cry. I wanted to be the furthest away from him as possible, but I was stuck there, paralyzed by my anger. And even worse was that all at the same time, I�d have given anything for him to say he�d been wrong and that he did love me. Anything.

�Was this just some game to you? Got bored messing up your life so you decided you might as well just fuck up mine?� I spat at him, well aware that I wasn�t at all being rational and not having a care. He took a step towards me and I pushed him away with disgust, before turning away to walk out of the kitchen.

�Hermione, no, it�s not�� Harry called, following me into the living room. I felt his grip on my arm and I jerked it away, in addition to pushing him back more roughly.

�Stay the bloody hell away from me, or I swear that I will end you.� My voice was low, threatening, and it threw him back. He seemed genuinely shocked that I could speak such words, but my fury consumed me in such a manner that if provoked, I would possibly follow with the threat. I�d never felt anything so violent before. My soul was ablaze. And all that while, the only thing I could hear was the sound of my own heartbeat, hammering the words, �I�m sorry, Hermione. I don�t.�

�You looked at me in the eyes, Harry. You looked at me in the eyes and you pretended not to know a thing about that kiss. You played with me! You don�t love me. You don�t even care what the hell happens to me. I�m just a tool to you, just like I�ve always been. Bookworm, plain Hermione; she sure is handy when Voldemort attacks, but let�s just toss her aside and ignore her when she�s being boring!�

At several moments during my long rant, Harry tried to intervene, shaking his head, but I simply went on. My last statement sparked a stronger response, however. He took a strong hold on both my shoulders and gave me a shake, forcing me to stop and look up at him. �No! Hermione, you�re not a tool, you�re not��

I just didn�t want to hear it.

�Get your hands off me.� I articulated each word carefully, daggers in my eyes. He paused and held my glare for a moment, then did just what I had asked him, even taking a step back. I then took out my wand and dissapparated to my own flat, unable to stand the sight of him one second longer.

Standing in the middle of my living room, in the big empty flat that I hadn�t shared with anyone in years, I remained silent for long minutes. I kept squeezing and releasing my fists on both sides of my body, taking long breaths to try and contain myself. The next thing I knew, I was collapsing to the ground in a heap of tears. I cried my heart out, lying on my side on the ground with my legs brought up against my chest. I wasn�t only crying for my unrequited love, but also for the friendship that I knew was ruined. My relationship with Harry had been the only stable thing in my life, and now that had been swept away.

I woke up in the same position the next day well into the afternoon and picked up my sore body from my living room floor with great difficulty. I went through the motions, getting ready for Sirius� party. Not once did I let what had happened the night before cross my mind. Every time the thought of Harry popped up in my head, I pushed it away. Never before had I realized how big a part of my life he was. From the pictures around the apartment, to the things we either had bought together, or that he had given to me; memorabilia of him were spread all over my home. As I went around, getting ready, I found myself overturning well over a dozen frames.

I apparated outside Sirius� home in Godric�s Hollow (where he�d chosen to move instead of living at 12 Grimmauld Place) and I sucked in a breath at the sound of roaring laughter behind the door. For a moment, I was on the verge of heading back home, but I decided against it. I owed it to Sirius, for all he�d done for me in the past, to be there, even if I didn�t know how I would react to Harry�s presence.

I rose a shaking fist and knocked on the door, waiting for someone to answer. The sight that was offered to me when the door swung open almost had me bursting in laughter, but I repressed it and grinned instead. �You know Sirius, I�m trying to see you as a strong father figure, it�s just�not coming.�

�What, you don�t like it?� Sirius said with a pout as he stepped aside to let me in, then reached down and slightly pulled on the flower-print dress he was wearing over his clothes. This time, I couldn�t repress a giggle and when I hugged Sirius to wish him happy birthday, it was also to genuinely thank him for making me feel a tad better, even if he wasn�t aware of it. I offered him his gift and he thanked me with a smacking kiss on the cheek before putting the coat on over the dress. I still had no idea where that one came from.

I felt a tap on my shoulder and I whirled around, my heart jumping in my throat. If it was Harry, I wasn�t sure what I would do. I couldn�t ruin everybody�s evening by screaming at him, but would I be able to help it?

I let out a long sigh when I saw that it was in fact Draco who was standing behind me. Without a word, he handed me a glass of fire whiskey and when faced with my puzzled expression, it was his turn to sigh, but out of exasperation. �Potter messed up, right? I�d quite enjoy wallowing in your misery, but Ginny would kill me. So, I�m offering you this drink instead.�

I gave him a shocked look and he shook his head. �I might be blond, Granger, but I�m not stupid. And he�s not here.�

He shoved the drink in my hand and turned away, joining Ginny in the living room. She gave me an uncertain glance then turned to her fianc� with a questioning look. He bent over to whisper something in her ear and I got bored with the interaction so I turned my back to them. I peered down into the glass, debating whether to consume its content or not. I�d never really drank much alcohol, one drink here and there, but I mostly kept to butterbeer. I�d been rational my whole life and it hadn�t brought be anything but pain.

With one swift motion, I raised the glass to my lips, dipped my head back, and emptied it.

It burned my throat as it went down and my lips formed a �o� as I blew some air out, then slammed the glass down on the small table next to me.

�Hermione, are you ok?�

I whipped my head around to look at Ginny, and rolled my eyes. �I�m marvellous. Will you mind your own business?�

I caught a glance of the redhead staring after me with her mouth open as I walked past her and headed for the bottle of fire whiskey Malfoy had taken with him. I poured myself another drink as the Slytherin looked on with a sly grin and downed it as well.

�You and I will be having a grand time tonight, Granger.�

I rubbed my burning eyes and sighed, then put my glasses back on to attempt one more time to focus on the pages of paper displayed in front of me. I hadn�t slept in a long time and I was truly starting to feel it. I�d fled the flat almost immediately after Hermione had left and I�d locked myself in my office, where I�d been since. Almost 24 hours.

I simply couldn�t face her now and I sure as hell didn�t want to have to endure Ron�s presence. I�d considered going after her, but I knew it wasn�t wise, not with the things she�d said. I�d never seen her so upset or angry. Locked away in here, I�d be missing Sirius� party, but I probably wouldn�t have been able to attend it anyway, considering the amount of work I had to put in before I had to leave.

The problem was, I could hardly think of anything besides Hermione. How had I made such a mess of things? I wasn�t sure what I had said exactly, what words had sparked her reaction, but I knew that I couldn�t leave things like this. But would it really be better to tell her the truth and then simply leave, possibly for a couple of months? Would she even be willing to hear it?

'Harry?' Ginny's voice suddenly called from the fireplace, startling me so much that I overturned my ink pot. A frown creasing my brow, I pushed my chair back and got up, before dropping on my knees in front of the fireplace.

'Ginny?'

'Harry! I'm so glad I finally found you. I think you'd better come...' Ginny continued, looking rather relieved. I felt my stomach sink, imagining the worst possible scenarios, but I tried to concentrate on my breathing, doing my best to remain calm.

'What's wrong?'

There seemed to be some commotion on Ginny's side and she momentarily turned away from the fire, making me groan. Eagerly, I called out for her and she returned, seemingly a bit less nervous and actually amused.

'It's Hermione. She's completely drunk.'

Author�s Note: For those of you who think that Hermione�s reaction was a bit extreme and omitted some facts she herself had discovered (like the way he looked at her in the Pensieve, etc), I just have to say that even the most rational girls see their logic fly out the window when they�re kissed by a guy they�ve just found out they�re madly in love with and he tells them he�s not in love, especially if said guy happens to be their best friend. But because it�s our Hermione and because logic is an integral part of her, you will see her think back on those things in the next chapter. You will see the best display of logic ever: drunk logic! And for those of you who think that Harry had a weak reaction, you just have to realize that he feels squeezed. He�s leaving, he doesn�t want to just drop the bomb on her and leave but the situation just Hiroshima-ed in his face (too much history, not good for the brain � that was just meant to say that it made a terrible, terrible mess, like a nuclear bomb � and wasn�t intended to be disrespectful, so, sorry if somebody feels it is).

Now, I solemnly swear that I will write the next part quickly. (as in, less than a week)

Author’s Note: So, the part was written in time with what I promise, but even though my beta rocks, she’s a busy girl, and so am I. So, it got done last Wednesday, but only just got done writing. So, sorry for that. I won’t make ‘less than a week’ promises anymore, but I should update at a rate of about once a week. Also, I promised some people I would say this.

Harry wasn’t going to tell Hermione he didn’t love her, she just didn’t let him finish his sentence. What he meant to say would have been something like ‘I’m sorry, Hermione. I don’t know what to say,’ and then he would have moved on to fess up (and almost did).

Hope you guys enjoy, more after the part.

When Ginny told me that Hermione was drunk, I’d had to make her repeat it about four times before the association of that name and that word made any kind of sense. I straightened up quickly and then I flooed straight to Sirius’ house. Cheers and laughs welcomed me. ‘Harry!’

Once the initial excitement caused by my arrival subsided, people went back to their business, except for Sirius and Ginny, both of whom approached me. I wished the first of them happy birthday, without making note of the flower-print dress he was wearing.

Sirius was far, far from the man I’d met when I was only 13 years old. According to Remus, that’s how my father and he had always behaved, before the whole Voldemort issue forced them to become much more serious. From what I understood, my mother had also played a large part in my father’s coming of age, but Lupin said she had a laugh like nobody else’s. It was hard to imagine my parents being happy, even when I looked at pictures of them smiling and waving, when for most of my life, they had been referred to as martyrs by others. Adulthood gave me a new perspective, allowing me not to long for them as I did when I was a child, but to cherish the memory of them through what their friends shared with me. They’d been happy and in love. It was what I wished I could have with Hermione, but now I feared I’d ruined any chance I’d ever had with her.

Someone called Sirius’ name from the other side of the room and he left me with Ginny, who was apparently getting impatient as she started talking the moment my godfather turned away from us. ‘What took you so long? Blimey, Harry, what did you do to her, exactly?’

I took a step back, out of harm’s way, remembering all too well the harsh hit on my shoulder from two weeks before. She rolled her eyes and sighed, then grabbed the front of my shirt and pulled me aside from the commotion of the party, so that no one would hear us. I tried to spot Hermione in the crowd of wizards, but in vain, as Ginny lead me to the bathroom. Once we got there, she turned to me and raised her eyebrows, apparently expecting me to answer her previous questions. ‘Well, let’s just put it simply, she showed up and kissed me, which was good; then she slapped me, which was not as good.’

‘She slapped you?’ Ginny exclaimed, her eyes wide. I nodded in response, then another and much more pressing thought popped into my mind.

‘So, I’m not exactly sure she’ll be happy to see me, but considering I’m already here… Where is she, and who gave her alcohol?’

Ginny groaned and led the way out of the bathroom as she answered, ‘Well, she’s not a teenager anymore, but my stupid fiancé did.’

I was so gonna punch Malfoy in the face.

Soon, we arrived in the kitchen and I became witness to scene that I would never have judged even plausible. Hermione, Malfoy, Ron and Luna were sitting at the kitchen table, the first two with a bottle of tequila and shot drinks between them. Ron looked on with what I could only interpret as worry creasing his brow as Hermione licked the salt on her hand before emptying her glass and biting into the lemon slice. After doing so, she let out a giggle that was drunkenly mirrored by Draco. Luna was looking at both of them with her trademark large blue eyes and even she seemed disconcerted by the current situation.

‘We all tried to stop her, at one point or another. Even Draco did, but she told us to… Um, well, you know,’ Ginny explained as I stood there in shock. ‘So, Ron said he would keep an eye on her while I went to fetch you.’

I nodded, then approached the table, a bit fearful of Hermione’s reaction to my presence. Would she scream at me again? Probably. Still, I came up behind her and took the newly filled shot glass she was bringing to her lips again out of her hand. ‘I think you’ve had enough of this.’

She let out a whine, then twisted her upper body to get a good look at just who had taken her precious tequila away. ‘Harry!’

Well, a cheerful welcome certainly wasn’t what I was expecting.

Hermione got up from her chair and jumped into my arms, giving me a tight hug that left me speechless. Less than twenty-four hours before, the same woman was screaming at me and threatening me of bodily harm. Now, without an explanation other than her being incredibly intoxicated, she seemed immensely happy to see me. A quick look around assured me that everyone in the room seemed as shocked as I was, even Malfoy.

‘Malfoy gave me tequila, Harry! And fire whiskey too!’ she said with drunken enthusiasm when she pulled away from me, then giggled. Ron and I shared a look, then I saw him turn to Draco with a rightfully angry expression on his face as I wrapped one arm around Hermione’s waist and tried to lead her out of the kitchen.

At first, she followed willingly, still laughing, until she realized what I was doing. ‘No, Harry, I’m fine, I swear.’

Despite my arm around her waist, steadying her, she almost tripped just as she said that, but I caught her in time. ‘Right, maybe a bit tipsy, then.’

‘More like completely pissed,’ I said with a sigh, then took her arm and threw it around my shoulders to give her more stability. She groaned, but she didn’t protest any further. We’d almost made it to Sirius’ guestroom when she let out a moan that seemed anything but reassuring.

‘I’m not feeling so well…’ she said, leaning one hand against the door frame to steady herself and make me stop.

‘I’m shocked,’ I said sarcastically, before feeling her arm slip away from my shoulders. When I looked at her, I saw that her face was very pale and that she did indeed seem nauseous. I framed her face with my hands, brushing a few strands of dark hair out of her face and forced her to look at me. ‘Want me to bring you to the bathroom?’

She shook her head slowly and then clumsily made her way to the bed, on which she basically collapsed. I turned around to close the door and just as my back was turned to her, I heard Hermione speak the last words I ever expected her to say. ‘I love you, you know.’

I froze, my hand on the doorknob. Had I heard right? No, it was impossible. Yet, she’d said it. After taking in a deep breath to calm my nerves, I shut the door and then went to sit on the edge of the bed, in silence. She rotated onto her back before she continued. ‘I just thought…You know, since you kissed me and…And I saw how you were looking at me in the memory with the Pensieve.’

Her rambling didn’t make much sense, but I allowed her to continue, simply because I wasn’t exactly sure what to say. The same reason why I hadn’t simply told her that I loved her the night before still held true. I was still leaving.

‘I hoped that maybe, you loved me too. But I understand if you don’t… All right, maybe I’d still be pissed about the kiss, but you matter too much to me to lose you over a kiss. So, if you don’t love me, it’s ok.’

To say I felt like the worst bloody bastard in the entire history would be an understatement. She was lying there, confessing her love for me and willing to forget a kiss and what she thought were unrequited feelings just for the sake of still having me in her life and I was sitting there, silent, keeping the truth to myself. I had no other choice and it actually came as a relief. I didn’t want to run away from it anymore. ‘I love you, Hermione.’

Before I could do anything, I was pulled down by a firm hold on the front of my shirt and Hermione claimed my lips, for the second time in two days. In different circumstances, I would have been thrilled, yet even as she kissed me, I doubted that it was right. But when I pulled back, I felt a warm feeling pool down in my stomach at the sight of Hermione’s peaceful smile.

I simply knew I couldn’t leave like that, not after hearing the words I’d prayed for her to say for over a year and saying them back. Like the kiss, I hoped that this night would be enough, for a while at least. The one memory I could cherish while I was stranded away from my one love.

I lay down in the bed behind Hermione, pulled her against me so that her back was pressed against my chest, and buried my nose into her hair. It wasn’t the first night we’d spent in the same bed, we’d even spent one together in the last few weeks, but this was different.

But as the hours passed, I still found myself unable to find sleep. Just like the kiss before it, this night proved itself to be a poisonous gift. I couldn’t find peace next to Hermione knowing that in less than a day, I would be leaving her behind. And on top of it all, the thought that maybe, she wouldn’t even remember this when came morning was keeping me from fully enjoying the warmth of her body against mine. I made sure she was asleep, before I pulled my arm from around her waist and slipped out of bed. After a pause to look at her, perhaps for the last time in months, I apparated back home.

A jackhammer.

I have no idea how, or why, but I was certain that a jackhammer had set shop into my head. My skull was ready to split open from the pain even before I opened my eyes and the harsh light that blinded me when I finally did open them only added to the very irritating reality that I was having my first hangover.

‘Good morning, sunshine,’ Ron’s voice greeted me, dripping with sarcasm. Had I had the strength to do so, I probably would have slapped that sly grin of his off his face. Instead, I groaned and rolled onto my stomach.

‘Piss off…’ I replied, my voice muffled by the pillow in which I’d hidden my face. He chuckled and gave my shoulder a shove to force me back onto my back. I whined, but gave in, extending my arm towards him. ‘Give it.’

He gave me a dubious look that I knew was fake, I’d known him far too long not to, so I sighed and shook my hand insistently. ‘Give me the hangover potion. I know you have it.’

He played innocent again, at first, then gave up all pretences. ‘You mean, the hangover potion you always forbid Harry and I to take, because you said that we need to suffer through the pain and learn from our mistakes?’

I rolled my eyes, then glared at him pointedly. I had, in fact, insisted many times, while I’d been dating Ron and often after that, on the wrongness of taking the potion. During the months following the death of Voldemort, the celebrations had sometimes extended far too long and by taking the hangover potion, both boys never learned that this behaviour wasn’t responsible. I wasn’t a fool, though, I knew they’d used it many times no matter what I said. ‘Yes, and I was very wrong, now give it.’

He flashed me a large grin, then deposited a violet vial in my hand. I sat up, without much ease, and uncorked it before I drank it all. Its taste was so awful that it almost made me retch, but I closed my eyes and set my jaw until the nausea passed. ‘My god, that tastes like shite.’

‘What did you expect it to taste like? I told you before that the potion itself was punishment enough,’ Ron laughed, taking back the empty bottle and shoving it in his pocket.

‘Yes, well, I’ll take the hangover now,’ I half-joked, lying back down in bed with a sigh. Soon, I started to feel the fog of my hangover fade away and the memories of last night came rushing back in. Ron was speaking, but I wasn’t listening to him in the least. All I could think about was Harry and what he’d said. I love you, Hermione.

‘Where’s Harry?’ I asked, suddenly. From the look on my ex-boyfriend’s face, I could guess I’d just interrupted him in the middle of a sentence, but I didn’t have a care.

‘Hum. Home, I guess?’

The redhead watched on, dumbfounded, as I slipped out of bed and rushed to the bathroom, making sure I didn’t look like a complete mess. Surprisingly, my hair didn’t look like a hairy mutant from hell, which was a miracle in its own right. I conjured some essentials and cleaned up a bit, my heart racing all the while.

My apparation in Harry’s flat had apparently gone unnoticed, for I could hear him move around in his bedroom, but he didn’t call out to know who was there. I approached the door and paused in front of it, taking in a long breath to calm my nerves before I pushed it open slowly. As it swung open it revealed an open suitcase on his bed and I felt my heart skip a beat. My voice was shaking when I spoke. ‘Are you going somewhere?’

He didn’t start at the sound of my voice behind his back, as if he’d sensed that I was there. Harry slowly turned to face me, still carrying in his arms a long dark wizard robe. We held each other’s gaze for a long moment in silence, then I stepped further into the room and shut the door behind me softly.

‘Yes, but I was going to go see you before I left, if that’s any consolation,’ Harry said, putting the robe down onto his bed. I nodded, my throat constricted. The silence hung heavily between us.

‘Work?’ I asked, almost fearfully. Harry did go out on the field from time to time, but he very rarely had the need to pack for them. I could only remember one occurrence where he was gone almost a week, probably the longest week of my life. I’d spent most of those nights awake, unable to find sleep because I worried way too much for him. I was as exhausted as he was when he returned.

He nodded silently and I felt tears spring to my eyes as I examined the large quantity of clothes and other belongings he was packing. ‘How long?’

‘I don’t know. Maybe a few months,’ he answered, lowering his head to avoid looking at me. A single salty tear rolled down my cheek and came to die on my lips, which were shaking.

‘Months?’

I had a sudden moment of clarity, an epiphany. The previous Friday, when I had shown up and kissed him, he’d been sitting at his kitchen table with numerous files open in front of him. Now, I understood why he’d been so hesitant to say anything, not that I gave him any chance to really do so. I’d cut him off with a slap, not even letting him finish his sentence. Admittedly, his wording couldn’t have been worse had he tried, but still. How childish of me. It all made sense now that I knew that he was leaving. He didn’t want to tell me the truth and then simply leave, which in a way was very noble of him, but I didn’t need to be shielded from the truth. Furthermore, the cat was out of the bag now and he was still leaving.

‘Harry…Everything I said last night, I meant. I’ve never felt this way before, not with Ron or anyone. I love you, Harry, so much that it scares me.’

I said all this quite slowly, staring intently at him. He’d looked up at me upon hearing his name and I could see that he too had tears in his eyes. I paused, then took a step in his direction and reached out for his hand. I brought it up and pressed his palm against my heart, before I continued. ‘Maybe I tried to ignore it because I was afraid to lose you, I don’t know. But, this?’ I said, covering the hand that was pressed against my heart with mine and squeezing it gently. ‘It’s belonged to you for a long time, Harry.’

There aren’t enough words to explain how hearing that made me feel. I’d listened to her drunk ramblings the night before without much hope, even though her outburst the night before was a pretty good indication that the feelings I had for her were mutual. But now, there was no denying it, no possible misinterpretation. I could even feel her heart beating wildly in her chest under my hand.

‘I love you so much, Hermione.’

She smiled, even as tears covered her cheeks and she was so beautiful in that moment that I couldn’t resist the urge to kiss her. I moved my hand up from her chest to cup her face, then wrapped my free arm around her waist to pull her against my body. I could taste the salt of her tears on her lips when I pressed mine against them.

I felt her comb her fingers through my unruly raven hair, pulling me closer with urgency. The gentle kiss soon became passionate and she moaned my name against my lips, making my head spin. When the need for air became too great, we parted, but remained in each other’s arms. She leaned against my chest and I rested my chin on top of her head, breathing in deeply. She smelled like jasmine.

‘I’ll wait for you Harry. However long it takes, I’ll be there for you when you come back,’ she said in an almost inaudible whisper, her face buried into my muggle shirt.

Later that night, when I woke up next to a sleeping Hermione, I would have given anything to be able to stay. A blanket covered her sleeping form, coming up to her shoulders, but I needn’t see anything. My hands and mouth had explored every inch of her body, touching and kissing her silky skin. Her smell was divine but she tasted even better, like strawberries. She’d been a bit nervous at first, as had I. Falling in love with your best friend was one thing, but making love to them was another. However truthful we’d been with each other in the past, however open to one another we had always been, there was always a barrier to our promiscuity that we’d never crossed. It was long gone now.

She’d made me promise that I would not leave without waking her, so I did. She seemed a bit disoriented at first, but she quickly came to her senses. She pulled me back down with her on the bed and rested her head against my chest. ‘Promise me that you’ll come back to me whole.’

I sealed my promise with a kiss, then got up and got dressed as she sat up in my bed, holding up the blanket to cover herself. I quickly rounded the few things I hadn’t yet finished packing when Hermione had arrived and closed the suitcase, which now rested on the floor. At last, I crawled back into the bed and claimed one last kiss, then dropped another on her forehead. ‘I love you.’

She repeated the words, making me grin like a idiot, then I left. Every part of me wanted to drop that suitcase and go back to her, even as I stepped into the fireplace and flooed to my office. As Tonks informed me of the last details concerning the undercover mission, I had trouble focussing on what she was saying, however important it was. All I could think about was Hermione and returning to her as quickly as possible.

Author’s Note: This is so not the end. I’m not quite sure what else to say other than, I promise at least a few more parts and I promise them quite fast. I’m even considering a sequel, if you guys will tag along ;)

Author's Note:

First, I have to say that I am very, very sorry with the time it took me to post this. I can only say that being an history major in university takes up a lot of time, and I also have a pretty much full-time job. I went from having a little time to having no time at all, as I became swamped with exams, papers and seminars. But here it is.

This is the last part of Midnight Kiss, the final chapter. But, I will be writting a sequel, which I hope you all read as the first part will be posted very soon (and I *really* mean it this time).

Thanks to everyone for reading, I hope you will keep on reading the sequel and thanks so much to everyone for commenting. Above all, thanks to by beautiful and amazing beta reader, Sen. I love you darling ;).

Not many people can say they have made a habit of waking up from a bad night with a redhead looking over them. I can. Still, the name that I whispered as I came to invariably remained the same.

�Harry?�

I blinked a few times to bring my vision into focus, Ginny�s face becoming clear. A sea of red curls fell towards me as the youngest Weasley was crouching over my resting form on the leather couch of Harry�s flat. It was the second time that Ginny had woken me up in such a fashion in that week alone, and I couldn�t count the number of times either she or Ron had done so in the last six months. I�d taken a habit of spending my evenings in his now-empty apartment, ever since Ron had moved in with Luna and more often than not, I fell asleep there.

�Sorry, it�s just me...�

I pulled myself up into a sitting position as Ginny took the place on the edge of the couch, my eyes going to the window. It was still dark out and as the fog of sleep dissipated, I remembered what day it was. �Gin, what are you doing here? It�s your wedding day; you should be getting your beauty rest.�

�Nah, I couldn�t sleep even if I wanted to. I�m way too worried about everything.�

�I�d be worried, too, if I had to marry Malfoy in less than twenty-four hours,� I snorted, absently rubbing the remainders of sleep from my eyes. I didn�t see Ginny�s cold glare, but I could almost feel it and I gave her a playful shove with my foot. She swatted my foot away with her hand and we giggled, both forgetting our worries for a few seconds. The moment was soon over and she dropped her face in her hands with a sigh.

�Hey...Don�t worry, it�s ok. Don�t you get cold feet now, Malfoy�s ego would never recover if you called the whole thing off,� I joked in an attempt to lighten the mood. Ginny�s voice was muffled when she replied with her face still hidden.

�I�m sorry, I didn�t mean to drop this on you, I know you�re worried sick about Harry...�

�No, no...Stop that nonsense, if you need to talk, I�m here for you!�

She looked up with a shy smile on her face and I reached to brush a strand of hair away from her eyes, then I put a comforting hand on her shoulder. �It�s ok Ginny, you love Draco and he loves you, you really have nothing to worry about.�

Ginny nodded and sighed, leaning her head back. We talked for a few more minutes and gradually, her responses became less coherent and more lax, until she stopped answering and I realized she had fallen asleep. I left her my place on the couch, covered her with a blanket and roamed around Harry�s home like I constantly did when I was left alone in it. Six months... Six months of waiting for news of any kind and receiving none. Six months of missing Harry, of craving for him.

I knew he wasn�t dead, or at least I had clung to the hope that if he had died, Tonks would have the decency to tell me. But alive didn�t mean well. I�d tried the best I could to stay in a good state of mind, but everybody�s concern was starting to smother me. Ron had first found me sleeping in Harry�s bed before he�d moved out, and ever since, the two Weasley siblings had made a habit of checking the flat every night to make sure that I wasn�t alone. Some nights, when the need for him became too great, I even found myself wishing that he hadn�t told me the truth before he left. Then, I drifted back to the one night we had shared together, and I knew I could never be able to give up the memory of his beautiful confession.

I sat on his bed, looking over at the bridesmaid dress that I was set to wear in a few hours�s time and had laid down on the bed in preparation. Its long flowing veils had a light pink tint and swept the floor when I walked, even with my heels. It was summer, so the spaghetti straps that tied behind the neck and the low back were perfect for the exterior wedding on the grounds of Malfoy Manor. It was beautiful, especially considering all the horror stories I�d heard about bridesmaid dresses and I wished that Harry would see me in it, but now it seemed highly unlikely. It was much more girly than I�d ever been while in school: if my relationship with Ron had left me with anything positive, it was the boost of confidence that came with being seen as an object of desire. My buck teeth were long gone and my bushy hair was also a thing of the past, thankfully. I would never be as gorgeous as Ginny, but in Harry�s eyes, I was beautiful and that was all that mattered.

My eyelids were becoming heavy and I yawned, stretching my legs to get into a sleeping position. I closed my eyes, hoping to get a few hours of sleep in before it was time to go.

Ginny and I apparated to the Burrow the next morning, with her things and mine so we could get ready. Her dress was even more stunning than ours, as it should be and her red curls fell in cascades on her bare shoulders with a discreet crown of white flowers as the only ornament. Molly cried the whole time Ginny put on her dress and I did her hair; Luna stared at the dress with her large blue eyes, and Fleur made sure her own hair and makeup held a strong competition to those of the bride. When I was the only one left, Ginny and I retired to her old room, and she helped me get ready. She needed to talk, and she knew I did too.

�Did you talk to Tonks this morning?� she asked, pinning my hair up and making some tendrils fall into bouncing curls like only she could. I nodded slowly, staring down at my hands. Ginny decorated my hair with baby�s breath as I raved on. I�d flooed her when Ginny was still asleep as soon as I�d woken up, asked her if she could give me any news. I�d broken down into tears, but I wasn�t about to tell Ginny that. She didn�t need it and I knew she could guess it without me having to say it.

�He�ll come back, you know he will. He sent Voldemort skidding back to hell and now that he has a life with you to look forward to, he�ll do anything to come back to you.�

I nodded again, my own tear-filled eyes looking back at me from the mirror in front of us. I hated feeling this way. I wanted to go back to the carefree feelings of a few months ago, of trading jokes with my friends and scolding Harry and Ron, of having nights out with Ginny. Ever since New Year�s, everything had seemed so dramatic. �Just think of when he�ll be back, and then you�ll spend so much time together you�ll want him gone again just so you can get some rest.'

�Ginny!� I exclaimed, my cheeks reddening even though I hoped she was right. She poked me in the ribs with her index finger, making me giggle, then leaned her chin on top of my shoulder to look over at our reflection. �You�ll see. Everything will be fine.�

Still, as I led the way for Ginny and watched her walk up the aisle, I felt my throat constrict. She looked so happy, fulfilled. I feared that I�d never have that.

The ceremony was beautiful, I�d never seen Malfoy smile without harmful intent so much in one day and Molly cried throughout the entire ceremony. Ron stood as best man, alongside Blaise, which made for an entertaining picture. I even found myself shedding a few tears when Draco swept Ginny in his arms and kissed her. Although the prospect of becoming Mrs. Malfoy didn�t particularly appeal to me, I envied her.

It seemed that the entire wizarding world had come to the party, from both sides. The Malfoy family and their friends were sitting on one side under the large white tent, and the Order of the Phoenix alumni and such were on the other side. For the time being, they had all put their grudge aside as if Ginny and Malfoy�s union meant something, like it buried the hatchet of the war even for just one night.

I danced a bit with Ron and even with the Weasley twins, but mostly I kept to myself at the center table, my eyes exploring the crowd.

�I come back and find you all alone in your corner, moping. Honestly, what did they do to you?�

After what I felt was an eternity of sitting there, in shock, I whipped my head around and looked over my shoulder at the tall and dark man standing behind me. Slightly emaciated, looking tired and his skin tanned, Harry was still the most beautiful thing I�d ever seen. Within seconds I was in his arms, kissing his face and his lips, holding him against me. He could barely get a word out, but I heard him laugh and I started shedding tears of joy, because it was like I only then realized that he was truly there. Alive. Well. Mine.

�Merlin, Hermione, I missed you so much.�

It wasn�t long before we were interrupted by a small crowd of friends, the newlyweds, the Weasleys and Luna. Most of them knew that Harry had been away, not all of them knew why, but they were all beyond happy to see him back after the long absence of half a year. I could see in his eyes that he only wished he could pull me away from the crowd to do unholy things to me, and the reddening in my cheeks showed that I craved the same thing, but this was Ginny and Draco�s day and we had to be there for them.

At the first occasion, Harry dragged me to the dance floor and swirled me into a valse, his hand clasped on my waist. �I can�t believe you�re back...can�t believe you�re here.�

He smiled at me as his only response and pulled me closer.

I couldn�t believe how beautiful she was. Like a fully blossomed flower, leaving no trace of the geeky know-it-all she used to be. Not that she didn�t have her charm back then, the passion in her eyes, her soft features, her small frame...she�d always been pretty, but now she was beautiful. �There was never a day when I didn�t want to come back. It was sheer torture, being away from you, even worse than Ron�s singing, I swear.�

It was true. The mission itself had been horrible, but the worst part of it all had been spending my nights wondering how she was, if she missed me as much as I missed her, and worrying about what the next day held. Would something happen to keep me from coming back and seeing her again? Most of the time, I didn�t sleep and beat myself up for wasting a year�s worth of time with her. Sitting in the darkness of the safe house where I spent my nights, uncertain if the wards would hold and protect me for another night, I made myself a promise. If I ever came back, I would never let her go.

My heart literally bouncing in my chest, my hands shaking more than they ever had even when I was facing Voldemort, I stopped dancing and reached into the pocket of my formal robes. I�d only been back for mere hours, most of which had been spent debriefing Tonks. I�d found a new set of robes hanging in my closets when I�d gone home, and it made no doubt that Hermione had been the one to purchase them. I smiled at the turn of events that had brought me back on that very day as I slipped them on. And now, I smiled again as I got down on one knee and looked up at Hermione�s shocked expression. Around us, people probably stopped dancing to watch the Boy-Who-Lived propose to the woman he loved and I knew it would probably make the front page the next morning, alongside pictures of the Malfoy heir�s lavish wedding, but I didn�t have a care.

It had been my mother�s ring, and it only seemed right that Hermione should be the one to wear it. �Mione, I�m a fool, I know it. I wouldn�t have lived to see a second year in Hogwarts if you hadn�t been there to carry me, with your concern and your wits, through the years and the fights. It�s my time to carry you now, to care for your heart and make sure that it never gets broken, ever again.�

She gasped and clasped her hand over her mouth, tears in her eyes. In the background, a bell marked the passing hour. �Will you marry me?�

Hermione lowered her hand and smiled, but remained silent. Her silence was killing me. �Mione, please?�

�Harry...it�s midnight.�

I frowned, not quite understanding what she meant by that. Her eyes were glistening with unshed tears as she pulled my hand up to make me stand. �It�s midnight. Kiss me...�

I broke out in laughter, then executed myself, taking her lips as I dipped her and people cheered, with the firm intention to never let her go.

Author's final note: Hope you enjoyed, hope you'll stay with me ;) Don't ask me what happened during Harry's mission in your comments, I won't tell because it's a large part of the sequel and I simply won't answer because it'd ruin some of the story and plot.

Alright, I'm *this* close to finishing the first chapter of the sequel for 'Midnight Kiss', I just didn't want you guys to think I wasn't keeping up with my promise.

Another reason for my little note, is that there is a charity auction going on over at Sweet Charity, with every single penny going to the National Marfan Foundation (you might not have heard of it, but it is a terrible disease), with a new cause every auction. And, I'm selling myself. Well, to be fair, I'm selling myself twice.

Music Video: While you guys know me as a writer, I'm first and foremost a vidder. I've been vidding for years, BtVS, Angel, Charmed, Doctor Who...a lot of stuff. While I've never tried my hand at Harry Potter, I'm more than ready to give it a try, and would be even more thrilled to do a Harry/Hermione vid. I promise quality until you're completely pleased with the result, and you'll get to pick subject and song (unless it's something I just *can't* work with because my brain might implode, but I'm very open-minded). You can see my stuff over at http://www.inner-demons.org. I strongly suggest the lastest vids if you want to know what I'm currently capable of, especially 'Through Glass' and 'Be Yourself' (over at http://www.doctorwhoonline.net)'Counting Bodies' and 'Enemies Within' (at Inner-Demons), but I've been awarded for numerous vids, so just browse through the library to find something of your liking. Obviously the older the vid, the less skilled I was back then. It's all a learning process, much like writting fanfiction.

Fanfiction: I'm promising at the very least 4000 words, but you should expect something at the least the lenght of Midnight Kiss. Currently, the person with the bid on me is a Doctor Who fan, but you can come bid on me and get an HP fanfiction to your own liking. Of course, I'll still keep some part of creativity (I won't be just typing away while you feed me the lines), but you'll have control over the storyline, the characters in play, over key elements of the plot. It'll be your story...through my words. You can buy me and secure yourself a sequel to 'Show Me', which will be the 'Midnight Kiss' sequel...ensuring that I write more of this story. Or, you can make me write something new entirely!

How?
That Part's simple. Head over to 'Sweet Charity, check out the rules, create a profile, check out the merchandise and bid in the 'BuyBuyBuy' section. I'm under the name Milly, once in fanfiction and once in Video. On the right corner, you can change the currency to your own (well, not every single currency is listed, but the main few are), and bid. The minimum amount you can bid is listed, but you can bid over that to secure me. This works like ebay, you can be overthrown at the last minute...so make sure to keep track of it all.

What do you have to lose? You donate money to a good cause and get either a fanfiction or a shiny music video in return. If you want, you can make me vid another fandom or movie as well (check my description on the site to see which fandom I'm willing to vid), or make me write about what you want. I won't be making a single penny out of this, nobody but the National Marfan Foundation will. The costs of the money transfer through Paypal are even covered by the very generous Auction Leader, LithiumDoll.