Unofficial Portkey Archive

"I can't believe they've been married five years."

Hermione lowered her mug of hot cocoa and smiled at her companion. "It does seem rather unbelievable, doesn't it?"

Harry raked his fingers through his hair and smiled sheepishly. "I mean, I know it's just five years and that's not a huge amount of time but this is Ron. I never expected…well, it just surprises me, I guess."

"Luna makes him happy," Hermione said with a shrug as she took another sip and bit down on a soggy marshmallow. She scanned the crowded room and smiled politely at those whose gazes she encountered as she edged a bit closer to Harry. It was more difficult than she liked to let on, seeing her ex-boyfriend happy and married to someone else. There'd been a time years ago when she'd foolishly seen herself beside Ron. It had taken nearly two years of dating, four months of which had involved cohabitating, for them to realize it just wasn't going to work.

It had been a mutual decision and they were now even closer friends than ever before. She was actually the one who arranged a 'chance meeting' between him and Luna years ago because she'd realized that, while she and Ron didn't quite make sense, he and Luna did. She was now the godmother to their six-month old son and couldn't fault them their happiness even if she was envious of their relationship and happiness. She was getting bitter and petty as she neared thirty, she decided with a flash of guilt, and looked at her mug to focus on being happy for them.

"Yes, she does. Ron's very lucky to have that happiness," Harry agreed quietly and Hermione didn't have to look at him to know he was looking at Ginny. Whereas she and Ron had had a couple of years to determine they just weren't meant to be, Harry hadn't had much of a chance with Ginny. By the time the war was over and Voldemort was destroyed, Ginny had fallen in love with someone else. Harry hadn't interfered with Ginny and Neville's happiness to see if old feelings were actually true or just childish infatuation. Instead, he'd wished them all the best and moved on, just as she'd eventually done with Ron.

"We're quite a pair, aren't we?" she asked as she nudged him with her elbow. "Anyone might suggest we were at a wake instead of an anniversary party."

"I'm not thinking about Gin," Harry told her softly, knowing what she was thinking without even having to look at her. "Seems you don't know everything, Miss Granger."

"Hmph," she snorted as she turned to look at him, a bit annoyed that he knew what she was thinking. At the same time, she was pleased that they knew one another so well that they didn't always have to use words to communicate. "Then what are you thinking about so seriously, Mister Potter?"

He looked at her then, his eyes rather intense as he stared at her a beat too long to be casual. He looked away finally and muttered, "Nothing. Just drop it."

"Harry, what is it?" she asked with concern as he obviously lied to her. She was a bit flustered from his stare and had to wonder if he'd realized---no, he couldn't know. She'd been very good at hiding her feelings for him over the past few years. She'd never risk their friendship, never risk losing him, over something as ambiguous and confusing as love.

"I think I need some air," he mumbled as he walked away.

Hermione sighed and leaned against the wall, watching him leave. It was really the stupidest thing she'd ever done, falling in love with her best friend. It certainly hadn't been intended and she still wasn't sure how it had happened. One morning a couple of years ago, she'd woken up one morning and gone in to the kitchen to find him cooking breakfast and she'd realized that she loved him.

It really was quite vexing to realize to that she loved her best friend, her flatmate, the one man who always just thought of her as a sister and confidante. Of course, she'd dealt with that realization as she did with anything involving confusing emotions: she ignored it in hopes it would eventually go away.

She watched the door open and saw Harry step outside into the cold night air. She didn't understand why he wasn't talking to her. They told each other everything, after all. If he wasn't being honest with her, it had to be something terribly important or he was worried how she'd react. Maybe he wanted to move out and was scared to tell her?

It was the only thing she could think of that might cause him to act a bit like the moody teen he'd once been. He wasn't dating anyone and hadn't seriously dated anyone since a brief affair with Susan shortly after he realized Ginny wasn't his anymore so she knew he wasn't planning to get married or anything similar. The thought of Harry, of her Harry, marrying another caused white hot jealousy to shoot through her.

There was no way that she could simply stand there sipping cocoa while he could be outside planning to marry some unknown slag who was probably only interested in his name and the scar on his forehead. Hermione put her mug down and got her coat from the cloakroom before she followed him outside. It didn't take long to find him. It was snowing lightly and far too cold to be taking a walk.

"Harry, stop walking so fast," she called out and wasn't surprised to see her breath become a cloud in front of her. She shivered and pulled her coat tighter, hoping it wouldn't take long for the warming charm to start working.

"Go back inside, Hermione. It's cold out here," he told her without turning around. "You'll catch your death and then I'll be forced to make you soup and lock you in your room so you can't go to work sick. You know I can't make soup and my locking charms aren't that strong."

"I'm not going inside," she told him matter-of-factly, "so you can stop being an annoying prat and just tell me what's wrong or I can stand here and freeze to death,"

"Nothing's wrong!" He turned around and glared at her.

"You're glaring," she pointed out with a slight smile. "That means something is wrong because you only glare when you're angry or frustrated and rarely ever at me. So which is it, Harry? You don't seem particularly angry since you're rather pants at hiding it so you must be frustrated about something. Is it Ron and Luna? You said it wasn't about Ginny and Neville but, Harry, it's perfectly all right to feel a bit jealous of them. That doesn't mean you're any less happy for them; it just means you're human and possibly envious. I mean, I'm rather envious of them, too."

"God, woman, don't you ever just shut up and listen?" he asked before he cursed under his breath and cringed when he saw her flinch. "Hermione, I didn't mean it like that."

"Forget it," she said tightly as she glared at him. "It's obvious you're wanting to be alone and I apologize for caring enough to follow you to see if I could help. I'm going back inside and don't worry, Harry. I won't say another word to you since it's obvious you'd rather I just shut up!"

Before she'd taken a half dozen steps, she felt a hand on her arm. She was pulled around, nearly slipping on the ice beneath the snow, and then she forgot all about the cold as Harry's lips crashed down on hers. She froze as he kissed her hard but soon reacted. She gripped his shaggy hair as best she could with her gloves on and kissed him back, putting in years of passion and desire into that one kiss in hopes it would say everything she wasn't sure how to put into words.

When they finally parted, both a bit dazed and panting, his hand on her arse and her body pressed against his, he blinked at her stupidly from behind his glasses. "That's what I was thinking about," he finally managed to stammer. "That's what I've thought about for what feels like ages, Hermione. It's not fair that Ron can be happy and Ginny can be happy but I…I can't."

"Harry, you stupid git," she finally said as she shook her head and started to smile. When he opened his mouth to protest, she put her fingers against his lips. "There's no reason you can't be happy, too. No reason."

"You-but-Hermione," he stumbled over his words and was clearly confused.

"Men," she muttered under her breath as she rolled her eyes. He may be nearly thirty but he was rather adorably clueless. As he stuttered and tried to figure out if she really meant what she so obviously meant, Hermione leaned up and kissed him gently, thoroughly, ignoring the falling snow as she moved closer and he kissed her back.

The End