Unfulfilled Birthday

Hermione Granger leaned against the passenger door of the car her parents bought her for her 17^th birthday staring at the set of buildings across the street. The sky was overcast making everything more noticeably grey and dull. The grey sky, the grey road, the grey buildings, her grey car, her grey mood. The cool breeze grazed the skin of her arms. She scoffed and folded her arms over her chest as she ignored the people and cars passing in front of her range of vision.

Her parents used to bring her here every year for her birthday before she attended Hogwarts. A playground used to sit here. It had a large red spiral slide, a green paint-chipped seesaw, and her favorite, a gigantic tire-swing which her father would spin her around so fast until she was squealing with excitement and thought she couldn't hold on any longer.

Now those days were gone, everything had changed. Hermione was no longer an innocent child anymore; she had grown up and was now a young woman with responsibilities. She had joined the Wizarding World and faced the most evil of evils the world had ever seen. She had played a big part in the destruction of Voldemort. She honestly believed if Voldemort hadn't taken her captive and threatened Harry with her life, then Harry wouldn't have been able to pluck up the rage to destroy that evil bastard. Unfortunately, the evils had left its scar on a part of her soul.

Her beloved playground, now gone, replaced with new office buildings was only further proof of how things had changed and could never be the same again. She glanced down at her watch and saw the time. It was only two O'clock, and Harry wasn't expecting her at his flat until four. She glanced across the road at the office buildings of where her playground used to stand and sighed sadly. She had nothing else planned for this afternoon and decided to go to Harry's early.

She walked around to the other side of her car and slid inside. She started the engine and routinely reached for the radio to switch it to her favorite station only reminded by the fuzzy static that like her playground it too was long gone. She groaned and flicked off the radio. She pulled onto the road and began to drive in the direction of Harry's flat.

Most would find it unusual for a Witch with the ability to apparate to any inch of the world with only a single thought would reduce herself to relying on the inferior muggle transportation, like a car. But not to Hermione, this was where she came from, the muggle world. In her opinion it was good to go back to your natural roots sometimes.

After many turns and stoplights, Hermione found herself only a block away from Harry's flat. She found a parking space within walking distance and slipped out of the car. She walked around the corner and into Harry's building climbed onto the lift and pressed the button to the sixth floor. When the doors opened again she walked along the shoddy burgundy carpet and pushed open the fourth door to her left.

Inside she dropped her keys on the counter which landed with a loud clang. Hermione spotted Ron looking up from his spot on the couch and glance at her; he was playing a muggle video game.

“Hi, Mione,” he mumbled, eyes returning to the television. “Happy birthday.”

“Thanks,” she mumbled half-heartedly eyes scanning around the flat for Harry. “Where's Harry?”

Ron didn't have time to answer because Harry wandered out from the hallway wearing only a white towel wrapped around his hips while he towel dried his hair with his left hand. “Oh, hey Mione. What are you doing here so early?” he asked. “I was wondering who could be coming in at this hour. Happy Birthday!”

“You always greet your unknown guests wearing only a tiny towel?” Hermione asked dryly as she plopped down next to Ron, who didn't seem to notice.

Harry looked down and frowned as if he only now realized what he was wearing. “Oh…um…sorry,” he murmured. “I'm uh going to change. Excuse me.”

Harry returned a few minutes later wearing jeans and grey sweater. He leaned against the counter and peered down at Hermione. “So what are you doing here so early?” he asked. “You said you had other business to take care of first.”

“There was a change of plans.”

“Still driving that old car?” Ron interrupted, not lifting his eyes from the TV.

“Of course.”

“Never going to let me drive it, are you?”

“Nope.”

“You know, in second year I did drive the flying car to Hogwarts. And I was twelve then, so I am sure I could drive your car now if you would give me the chance,” Ron said.

“No, you flew the flying car to Hogwarts and you nearly took out the Great Hall and the Whomping Willow in the process,” Hermione corrected. “And may I add there are fewer pedestrians in the sky for you to hit!”

Harry sniggered.

“Oh well I have to go anyway,” Ron said shutting off the game and standing up. “I owe Ginny a favor and she said I have to help her pick out a dress for the party tonight. I'll see you two later.”

Ron marched over to the door and opened it up to leave.

“Oh, Ron?” Hermione said.

“Yeah?” he asked, ducking his head back in the door.

“You're still twelve,” she replied with a smirk.

Ron stuck out his tongue mockingly at her and smirked before exiting the flat.

Hermione sighed and fell back against the couch.

“So…what was this other business you had to do?” Harry asked.

“Oh, Harry,” Hermione sighed. She leaned forward and noticed all the dirty dishes scattered around the flat. “Merlin, Harry, don't you ever clean up?” she asked ignoring his previous question.

She got up from her spot on the couch and collected all the dishes bringing them into the kitchen ignoring Harry's protests and repetitious inquiring of his earlier question.

“Hermione will you just answer the question?” he prodded further as he watched her gather up more dishes and head towards the sink. “Hermione, will you just stop?” Harry pulled out his wand and with a quick flick the dishes had vanished in Hermione's arms.

Her arms dropped to her side and she lowered her head and sighed.

“Hermione, what was--”

“HARRY, FOR GOD SAKES WHAT DOES IT MATTER?” she screeched, spinning around. “JUST DROP IT!”

“It does matter.”

“Why?”

“Because I see there is something bothering you,” he replied. “So please tell me what you were planning on doing.”

“Nothings bothering me.”

“Yes there is.

“No, there isn't

You're flustered,” he said. “What happened?”

“You'll laugh,” Hermione told him.

Harry walked around the table to throw and arm around Hermione and guide her back over to the couch. “Hermione, you can tell me I won't laugh. I promise you,” Harry assured her.

“It's just this old playground my parents used to take me to every year for my birthday before I started Hogwarts. I loved it; it was always the highlight of my birthday. Well I went there today to clear my head,” she frowned and looked up at Harry.

“Yeah?”

“It's been torn down and replaced with office buildings. I know it's only stupid playground but it was my stupid playground!” she said glancing back at Harry.

“Oh,” he said. “Things have changed.”

“Yes, the one place where I could find pure happiness and it's gone,” Hermione sighed.

“The only place?” Harry questioned. “I am sure there have been other places that have brought you happiness.”

“Oh yes, there have been many places,” Hermione informed him. “But nothing like that. It was an innocent happiness before all the wickedness…before Hogwarts.”

“Are you telling me that you regret Hogwarts?” Harry asked suspiciously.

“No, I could never do that,” Hermione said. “But ever since we fought this war I have felt different. Like apart me died for every funeral or memorial we attended after it was all over. Or watching you bear the burden of it all day after day.”

“Hermione, the war changed everybody,” he told her, sympathetically rubbing her back.

“I can't feel anything anymore, Harry. I can't feel joy, happiness, or even sadness. I am dead inside. I feel as if a Dementor has sucked my soul out of me!” she said looking into Harry's eyes. “Why do I feel this way?” she asked as more tears sprung to her eyes.

Harry wrapped his arms around her and pulled her in, allowing her to cry freely into his chest. He ran his fingers up and down her back and into her brown curls to try and make her feel better.

“Shhh it's okay,” he whispered soothingly, rocking her back and forth. “It's okay, Mione.”

“I don't want to feel this way anymore,” she sobbed. “I want to feel something!”

“You will, Hermione,” he told her. “I will make you feel something!”

Before he knew what he was doing, Harry tilted Hermione's chin up with a finger and placed a kiss on her lips. He pulled away seeking her eyes for concurrence to go further. She whimpered with a nod and grabbed the back of his neck pulling him down for hungry kiss that she so desperately needed.

Harry groaned and forced his tongue into her mouth, which she happily accepted. She encouraged him further when she reached for his sweater and struggled to pull of his sweater. Sitting up, Harry pulled off his sweater for her and tossed it on the floor. Playing professional Quidditch for the past eight months had done wonders for his body. He pushed her down on the couch nestling himself between her legs and claimed her mouth again with his own.

“Hermione…” he groaned into her mouth.

She responded by grinding her hips against his making him growl in response. He reached down to hike up her skirt and to remove her knickers. Moving down for his lips to meet her womanhood, Hermione stopped him with a firm hand on his shoulder.

“No, Harry,” she gasped. “Let's just do it.”

Harry didn't need to be told twice, he moved back up and kissed her fiercely, as his hand snaked down between their bodies to unfasten his jeans. He pulled them down to his knees along with his boxers and his hard cock sprang free from its barrier.

Feeling the tip of his cock brush against her wet folds, she gasped and found herself eager for him to enter her.

Harry positioned himself at her entrance and plunged into her in one hard thrust. She cried out in pain and dug her nailed into his shoulders. Harry lay still, with himself still buried inside, and looked deeply into her eyes.

“Hermione are you a virgin?” he asked apprehensively.

“Yes,” she replied.

“Oh, Hermione,” he sighed, tucking her hair behind her ears. “I thought…you and Viktor had before when…I didn't know - Oh, I didn't want to hurt you!”

“It's ok,” she whispered.

He leaned in and kissed her hungrily again as he began to move with in her. Hermione gave a relieved sigh and began moving her hips to his rhythm. The intense pain that filled her with every thrust from Harry gradually dulled to a minor throb as her orgasm slowly began to build.

“Hermione!” Harry cried out.

He plunged into her deeper and faster. Hermione gave a guttural grunt with every thrust he gave. The dull pain always there at the beginning of each thrust.

Harry wrapped his fingers in Hermione long brown curls and panted heavily in her ear. “Oh, Mione, you're so beautiful…so bloody beautiful!” he grunted.

Hermione responded with a soft moan and kissed him again, her tongue delving into his mouth, swirling about with his tongue.

Harry plunged into her a dozen more times before he felt Hermione clench tightly around. She began to moan lightly. Harry knew this wasn't going to last much longer. Crying out her name loudly, Harry thrust into her a few more times, he could feel tingling ecstasy rising in his groin. He groaned loudly as he pumped into her one final time spilling his seed.

Harry collapsed on top of her, panting heavily. He took a few more deep breaths before he pulled out of her and sat up. Hermione pulled herself up fixing her skirt in the process; she leaned against the arm of the couch not knowing what to say. Harry fell back and sighed contently and glanced over at Hermione and grinned awkwardly.

They sat together in and awkward silence. Hermione was hit with a sack of mixed emotions that she couldn't comprehend. She wanted to sink contentedly into Harry's strong arms and soak up blissfulness of the moment, yet at the same time she wanted to curl up and bawl her eyes out.

“Are you okay?” Harry asked trying to break the awkwardness.

“Yeah, I'm fine,” she replied politely, hiding her emotions. “Are you alright?”

“Yeah, I'm good,” Harry replied. “Did it hurt?”

“A little bit,” she admitted.

Harry leaned forward and sighed. “Hermione,” he said. “Where do we go from here?”

“We get ready for the party,” she answered. Hermione pulled herself off the couch and exited the room without a thought, leaving Harry alone and confused.

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A/N: JKR once said she was going to give Hermione a little sister but she never made it into the books. Well I decided to be kind and give Hermione's little sister a chance. Enjoy!

Much to Hermione Granger's dismay her 20^th birthday party was being held in the reception hall at the Ministry of Magic. It was only five weeks ago that Hermione had learned that her prized provisional department for the protection of house elves that she had struggled to turn into a real department for the Ministry for nearly two years had been terminated. All of her hard work and research gone in the wave of a wand.

Now being at the Ministry of Magic, her place of previous employment, surrounded by all her former colleagues who mocked her was the last place she wanted to be. Her mother had this party planned for months with the help of her daughter's school friends. By the time Hermione lost her job, the reception hall had already been booked, and the invitations had already been sent out and the last thing Hermione wanted to do was break her mother's heart by telling her to cancel it. Hermione's mother hated watching accomplishments fall short. Like mother like daughter.

Hermione now stood alone by the punch bowl, hoping if she got drunk enough the night would slip away faster and she could try and forget the horrible awkwardness after spontaneous sex with her best friend. She took another sip of her punch, watching all the guest dancing and laughing on the dance floor. Hermione forced smiles and polite thank you's to the passing guests who wished her a Happy Birthday. She wore a little black strapless dress with streaks of silver on the bodice. Her long brown curls were now charmed into straight chic locks.

“You look lovely tonight!”

Hermione turned around and smiled weakly when she saw Ron walking up to her, wearing dark dress pants and a scarlet dress shirt.

“Thank you,” she replied. “You do too.”

“And happy birthday,” he said again, placing a kiss on her cheek.

Hermione smiled in response. “So did you find a dress for Ginny?” she asked.

“Yes, after a good argument,” Ron said. “She's by the doorway, take a look for yourself.”

Hermione took a sip of her punch and turned around to seek out Ginny in the crowd. When she finally caught sight of the red head she choked on her punch and whipped around to glare at Ron. “Ronald!” she gasped. “How could you do that to your poor sister!?”

“What?” he asked, pretending to not to know what she was talking about.

“That!” Hermione said pointing at Ginny. “How could you put her in that horrible neon orange dress? It's absolutely hideous! Your sister is now colorblind because of the war, how could you do that to her! You are cruel Ron Weasley!” she scolded.

“Yeah well its pay back for all that childhood torment she caused me,” Ron stated. “Besides…”

“What the bloody hell is Ginny wearing?” Harry asked, his head suddenly appearing over their shoulders.

Harry eyed Hermione carefully. “You look very beautiful tonight.” he told her.

Hermione turned around to face him. She looked up and down and blushed horribly. He was wearing an eye catching black suit with a dark green tie that brought out his enticing green eyes.

She gulped and looked between Ron and Harry. “I remember my sister wanted a word with me,” she told them. “Excuse me.”

Hermione placed her glass gently on the table and turned away, avoiding eye contact with Harry.

“What was that about?” Ron asked Harry suspiciously.

Harry frowned after Hermione, watching her walk away. “I have no idea,” he replied.

Hermione left the boys and briskly strolled over to a large round table in the far corner of the vast hall to greet her sister, she could feel Harry's eyes burning into the back of her head as she walked away from him. She saw her sister sitting at the table eating celery sticks and talking with and elderly woman. Hermione sat down in the empty chair next to her sister.

“Hi Shelby,” Hermione said.

Eighteen year old Shelby Granger excused herself from the elderly woman and turned to her despondent sister, her shiny blond bouncy hair whirling around her neck with the swift turn of her head. “Oh, hello, Hermione. Enjoying your party?” Shelby beamed, revealing her pearly white perfect teeth. Hermione took in all of her little sister's beauty, the shiny blond hair, perfect white teeth, and her sparkling brown eyes.

This is the kind of woman Harry deserves, somebody beautiful. Hermione thought. Not somebody plain like me.

“Yes,” Hermione lied forcing a weak smile.

“Hermione, Shelby!” the girls names were called in a singsong voice.

The two girls twisted in their seats to see their mother, a tall thin woman with short sandy hair, grinning profusely from across the room waving them in her direction standing across from an elderly couple who Hermione had never laid eyes on before.

Hermione groaned. “Who the bloody hell is mum with?” she asked Shelby.

“Mr. and Mrs. Walden. He is an Orthodontist and works in dads building. I haven't officially met them yet, just tales of mum kissing Mrs. Walden's arse trying to wield her way into their Country Club,” Shelby replied.

“Please don't tell me they told them I am a witch!” Hermione begged.

“No,” Shelby answered. “Mum just told them that you're part of a secret society.”

“What!” Hermione exclaimed. “Is she completely mad? She can get me in serious trouble by doing that. Bringing muggles here. What if someone here did magic?” Hermione slowly rose from her seat. “She makes me so angry at times!”

“Yoo-hoo,” their mother called again.

Both girls marched over to their mother bearing polite smiles. As they passed the refreshment table, Hermione briefly caught Harry's eye. She noticed he was watching her intently.

“Shelby, Hermione, I would like you to meet Mr. and Mrs. Walden. Mr. Walden here works with your father in the dental building,” Mrs. Granger said.

Hermione shook both of their hands politely.

“So this is the famous Shelby Granger!” Mrs. Walden cried out. “I have heard nothing but wonderful things about you. Your mother just raves out you!”

Hermione watched her sister blush pathetically and immediately start gushing about how she got engaged over the summer to her boyfriend. Hermione rolled her eyes she thought her sister was a fool for thinking of marriage at such a young age, she had barely just turned 18 for heaven sakes! Hermione wasn't going to take this any longer. She politely asked her mother if they could have a word in private.

“Hermione, what are you doing?” Mrs. Granger asked once out of earshot of the others.

“They have to leave!”

“What!” Mrs. Granger shrieked. ”Why?'

“Because they are muggles and they are not supposed to be here!” Hermione replied angrily. “The condition for allowing you, dad and Shelby here is that I am responsible for all three of you, anything goes wrong and it's my fault!”

“So I'm what you call one of those muggles!” Mrs. Granger barked back.

`You, dad, and Shelby are my family!” Hermione retorted. “So you kind of have to know about the whole magic thing. They don't!”

“They are my guests!”

“And you are a guest in the Wizarding World! I am not getting an inquiry from the Ministry of Magic just because you want to show of “The Magnificent Shelby” to get into some stupid country club! You are risking exposure to the Wizarding World. Now you ask them to leave politely or I will do it for you…and it won't be pretty!”

Mrs. Granger huffed angrily at her daughter. ”Fine!” she spat. “But when I get back we're having a chat!”

Mrs. Granger turned on her heel to walk back over to her guests. Hermione turned in the opposite direction to walk back to her table to finish her punch. She watched from afar as her mother asked the Walden's to leave. The elderly couple shot Hermione a nasty look before following Mrs. Granger out of the hall. Hermione could have cared less. Her eyes scanned the hall again and noticed Harry still watching her from the punch table; she could feel herself flushing again. A few moments later an angry Mrs. Granger stomped through the hall in the direction of her eldest daughter.

“How dare you!” Mrs. Granger said angrily through clenched teeth.

“Oh, mother, please…”

“You are rude. I have been working on this party for months. Then you turn around and treat me like this! And did you know that they brought their sixteen-year-old grandson for you to meet? And you just kicked them out like vermin! You have lost all hope of meeting that boy and starting a relationship with him!”

Hermione gaped at her mother. “S-sixteen? You wanted to hook me up with a sixteen-year-old? For god sakes, mother, I am twenty years old! I don't want anything to do with a sixteen-year-old, never mind date one!”

“Well that's not surprising.”

“What's that supposed to mean, mother?”

“You never have a boyfriend,” Mrs. Granger told her daughter. “You don't even have the decency to show up to your own birthday party with a date! Your friends did, so why can't you?”

“Harry and Ron did not bring dates,” Hermione retorted.

“Yes they did. Ron came with that ginger haired girl in the ugly dress and…”

“That's not a date, that's his sister!”

“At least he came with somebody, and Harry is over there with the girl in the green dress,” her mother said. “Why can't you find anybody?”

Hermione turned and her heart dropped, feeling like she had been hit with a sack of bricks, when she saw Harry was no longer watching her but walking through the hall with the arm of tall brunette hook through his. The woman on his arm glared at the others in the room, obviously feeling superior because she was with Harry Potter.

The sight of it all almost made Hermione sick. How could Harry make love to her and then just a few hours later be seeing somebody else? Tears stung her eyes as they threaten to fall; she swallowed hard and turned back to her mother.

“Because I don't want just anybody,” Hermione muttered under her breath, hoping her mother didn't hear her.

Mrs. Granger took a step closer to her daughter, and began whispering in a softer tone. “Look, Hermione, by the time I was twenty I was married to your father and pregnant with you,” Mrs. Granger spoke softly, reaching for her daughters arm. “Now look at your sister, she is young, happy, engaged, and she is going to have a good career. I know lots of people Hermione - wealthy people - and I can find you a nice bloke. You can come home, go back to school become a doctor, just like you've always wanted. And if things work out well you can be married within a year and put this magical world behind you! Isn't that something you want?”

Hermione aggressively pulled away from her mother. “No, mother, that is not what I want! How could you think such a thing?” Hermione spat angrily. “Just because you married young, and Shelby is getting married young doesn't mean I want the same thing! What do you have against me trying to build my career and living a life before I settle down? I want to try and build my career again. I want to live a life I have been denied since I was twelve-years-old!”

“Your career? It's been squashed, nobody cares about the elves,” Mrs. Granger told her daughter.

“Well I do! And I am going to help them if I have to turn to a foreign ministry for a start,” Hermione snapped back. “The American ministry showed some interest when they heard about it a few years ago.”

Mrs. Granger scoffed. “What has this magical world given you?” Mrs. Granger asked, harshly. “Nothing…absolutely nothing but trouble and chaos and this silly war you've told me about.”

“This world has given me acceptance and the two greatest friends a person could ever wish for!”

“Friends who have done nothing but almost get you killed on several occasions.”

“Go to hell, mother.”

“You are a horrible person!” Mrs. Granger said, turning to walk away. “Why don't you be like your sister and try doing something with your life!”

Hermione stood in the middle of the hall watching her mother stalk away and was suddenly aware that everybody's eyes were on her. She could feel her eyes filling with tears. She took in a few deep breaths before she ran for the direction of the girl's bathroom.

With Harry running after her.

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Hermione rushed out of the crowded hall and into the girl's bathroom slamming the door behind her. She turned and was glad to find it empty as her tears began to fall. She found the nearest toilet stall and barricaded herself inside as she slid down the back of stall door and buried her face in her knees allowing herself to cry harder.

“How did this happen?” she asked herself through a sob.

She reached up and ripped a piece of toilet paper off the roll to soak up her tears. Inhaled deeply and tried to abate her sobs but the images of Harry with that girl and her mother ridiculing her in the middle of the hall kept popping into her head and the tears she tried to diminish came back stronger then ever.

She dropped her head to her knees again and allowed her sobs consume her. Her breathing became rigid and her chest hitched with every vicious sob. Since she was a child Hermione had always had every aspect of her life planned out. How did it all go so horribly wrong?

Then the bathroom door swung open, and Hermione quieted her tears momentarily. She heard the door swing shut, followed by solid footsteps on the marble floor that slowly paced down the large row of bathroom stalls.

It's probably Shelby coming to drag me back to the part, Hermione thought to herself. She released her breath.

“Hermione?” called a voice. “Are you in here?”

That definitely isn't Shelby.

“Harry?” Hermione questioned.

Hermione heard his footsteps shuffle outside her stall door.

“Yeah,” Harry said. “It's me, now open up this door.”

“Harry,” Hermione sniffled. “What the bloody hell are you doing in here? This is the women's loo!”

“I want to ask you a question,” he replied. “So will you open this door?”

“No,” she said, as her voice choked sob.

“Oh, please Hermione?”

“No!” she snapped.

He's using me, Hermione thought. He has to be. Why else would he have slept with me?

Harry could hear her trying to stifle her tears, and it broke his heart to hear it.

“Hermione please open this door,” he begged. “I am not leaving until this door is opened and we talk. So you either you do it willingly or I will use my wand.”

She gave another choked sob.

“Harry, please…just leave me alone,” she asked, surrendering to her tears again, making Harry's heart break in two. “I want to be by myself. Go back to the party.”

“No, I am not leaving you alone like this. So just open this door.”

“Harry, please…” she begged.

“No,” he told her. “I am reaching for my wand.”

“Harry…”

“It's in my hand. I'm about to…”

The lock clicked, and Harry heard her shift behind the door.

He put his wand back in his pocket and gently pushed the stall door open to find Hermione sitting on the toilet lid with her face buried in her hands and shaking violently from harsh breaths. She took in a gulp of air and peered up at him. Her eyes red and swollen and it pained Harry more.

Harry stepped into the stall and gently locked the door behind him. He knelt down before her and looked into her eyes. “Hey,” he said gently.

Hermione didn't respond, only looking up at him through her long wet eyelashes.

“You okay?”

Don't trust him, he shagged you then brought another date to YOUR birthday party.

She shrugged and proceeded to tear the piece of toilet paper in her hands, trying adversely to avoid eye contact with Harry. After a long silence and the feeling of Harry's eyes burning into her head as she tried to calm her tears, she peered up at him again. “What is, Harry?” she asked. “What are you doing in here?”

“I came to ask if you wanted to dance with me,” He told her.

Her eyes shot up to look at his face. “What?” she asked, feeling slightly offended. “Is that your idea of some funny joke?”

“Well not a joke, parse, more like temperate sarcasm to cut the tension of the room,” he admitted with a lopsided smirk, trying to crack a smile out of her.

She glared at him, her chest rising and falling with heavy breaths. “That's not funny, Harry,” she said, wiping away the tears leaking from her eyes. “Why are you really here?”

Harry shifted closer to her and grabbed her hips firmly. “You are my best friend. I see you get hurt by your mother's unfair public ridicule and then you run in here crying,” he told her in a serious tone. “Why the bloody hell do you think I'm here, Hermione?”

He's lying.

“Oh,” she said feeling stupid, though still refusing to believe that Harry wasn't using her.

“For the record, I really did have every intention on asking you to dance tonight,” Harry said. “You really look beautiful.”

Liar.

She fought back the urge to crack a small smile. “Thanks,” she replied. “But I don't think your date would like hearing you say that.”

He shot her a look. “My what?” he asked.

“Your date!” Hermione replied, emphasizing the word date. “You know green dress, bigger boobs then your head, long brown hair.

Harry thought for a moment. “Oh!” he shouted. “Hermione, that wasn't my date. She's was the Keeper's sister, from the first Quidditch team I was on. Her name is Mariah LeComb. She was just asking about the season. I didn't bring a date tonight.”

“Oh,” she said looking down at the torn tissue in her hand. She felt stupid for automatically assuming, but apart of her couldn't let go of the concept that Harry was still lying to her.

“Hermione, talk to me, are you alright?”

She pushed aside her mixed emotions and opened up her to mouth to speak when a stinging lump caught in her throat. She closed her eyes and choked back on the sob just as the heavy tears began to fall.

Harry watched her for a moment and his heart broke in two. “Aw, Mione, come here,” he told her, pulling her against him. She fell easily against him and immediately buried her face into his chest and clutched the back of his shirt. Taken aback at how easily she came to him, Harry wrapped his arms around her tightly and let her cry as he rocked her back and forth.

Ten minutes later, Hermione's sobs began to subside, and a relieved Harry had an idea pop into his head.

“Do you want to get out of here?” he asked.

Hermione nodded against his cheat. “Yeah,” she murmured.

“Want to get coffee?”

“I don't want to go to a crowded place.”

“I'll take you home then,” he said.

She shook her head against his chest.

“No?” he questioned. “My place…?”

Harry could feel her thinking hard about the question. “Do you still have that double mint chocolate chip brownie fudge ice cream in your freezer?”

“Er…yeah.”

“Ok then,” she replied.

Harry chuckled and stood up, holding out a hand to help her up. They walked over to the sinks and Hermione leaned in to gaze at her reflection.

She groaned, peering at her smudged make up, blotchy face, and disorderly hair. “I look awful!” she cried.

“No, you look beautiful,” he corrected.

She smiled weakly at him then returned her attention to the mirror to fix her appearance. She couldn't understand why she was allowing herself to do this herself. She was angry and confused about Harry, yet she was allowing herself to go over to his house again. She would probably end up getting hurt, but that didn't stop her. Why? She didn't know. She couldn't help it. All she knew was that apart of her was telling her it was the right thing to do. But the other part of her was screaming, “He's lying to you!”

“Er, Hermione, do you think that we should maybe tell people you leaving?” he asked. “You know, since it is your party.”

“No, I'll send Ron an apology owl later.”

“Ok,” Harry asked, holding out his hand. “Ready?”

She turned to Harry and stared at his hand as if she accepted it she would be accepting something huge along with it. She hesitantly took his hand and met his gaze. “I think so,” she said staring into his eyes.

Within the blink in of an eye she had gone from being in the girl's lavatory at the Ministry to being in Harry's lavish one bedroom flat. She felt her feet land on the hardwood flooring of the kitchen and kept her eyes shut as she allowed the eerie feeling of being sucked through a straw passed over her. Harry let go of her hand and she heard him walk over to the fridge and open it up. She shook her head clear and opened her eyes. Harry was pulling the ice cream out and reached for a bowl and a spoon.

Hermione's eyes darted to the couch just a few feet away where her and Harry had sex just hours before. She was suddenly hit with the regret of coming. Fear soared through her body. Her mind was screaming for her to run while her heart told her stay.

“I can't do this, Harry. Sorry I have to go!” she announced. She turned to rush to the door and just as she was about to reach the doorknob, she felt Harry grab her other wrist and pull her back.

“Hermione, what is it?”

“Harry, please, I have to go!” she pleaded.

“No,” he said not letting go of her. She tried to pull away from his grasp but he grabbed a hold of her other arm and pulled her against him. “Not until you tell me what you can't do. Hermione, please tell me what's going on!”

“Let go!”

“Never.”

Hermione struggled against his vast strength to pull away but it was no use. Harry now had his arms wrapped tightly around the middle, her back pressed firmly against his front as she fought against him. “Harry…please?” she begged him, her heavy sobs returning. “Please…don't hurt me.”

Harry felt like he had been hit with a sack of bricks at her words. Her sobs grew louder and Harry felt go limp in his arms. He lowered her onto the floor and she crumpled on entrance rug bawling. He looked down at her and slowly lowered himself onto the ground beside her. His brow furrowed with shock as he tried to register her words.

“Hurt you?” he asked, more himself then Hermione.

Hermione kneeled on the frayed rug and leaned forward as hugged her ribs tightly, fighting for air through violent tears. Harry focused his eyes on her and watched her shaking with vicious sobs before he attempted to reach out to her. When she recoiled he felt dejected.

“Hermione,” he asked in a calm tone. “What is it? Please tell me…”

“You!” she cried looking up to meet his gaze. Her eyes were red and puffy, and the make up she had just fixed was running down her face again.

“Me?” he asked, feeling taken aback.

“I can't do it, Harry,” she sobbed. “…I can't.”

“What can't you do?” he slowly crept closer to her.

“That!” she said waving her hand in the direction of the couch. “And…this!” Her sobs grew stronger. “I just can't do it!”

Harry immediately knew she was referring to what occurred on his couch just hours ago. “Tell me, Hermione,” he said.

She closed her eyes and allowed a few tears to leak out. “You're hurting me,” she told him.

Harry was growing more concerned. “How am I hurting you?” he questioned.

Wiping her eyes, she looked up at him. “You are Harry Potter, savior of the world, destroyer of evil, and star Seeker of England. There is no way you could ever want me. I am plain and boring. You deserve somebody better, like one of your Quidditch fans…like that girl in the green dress. I am no good!”

“Oh, Mione…”

“And you - you made me feel something,” Hermione said, as her eyes filled with more tears that poured over and down her cheek. “It has been so damn long since I felt something. Something good. You did that. And I'm scared!”

Harry couldn't believe what he was hearing. How could she think something like that? “Oh, Hermione…” Harry said.

“Harry, I'm scared. Scared that you're going to hurt me,” she said, looking into his eyes. More tears began to fall. “Harry…please don't hurt me!”

Without hesitation Harry pulled her into a tight embrace and kissed her temple. “Oh, Mione. There is no better girl than you. You're smart and beautiful. You know me better than anybody. I promise you, I would never do anything to hurt you.” He pulled away to cup her face and look into her wet eyes. “You mean the world to me, Hermione. How could you not know that?”

“Harry, I just…”

“No, shhh it's okay,” he told her. “We have been best friends for over eight years and you are SO important to me, you have no idea how much. I don't know what I would do if something happened to you.” The thought of something preventing her from being in his life almost made him cry. He pulled her tight against him. “I don't regret what happened this afternoon, and frankly…I rather enjoyed it. I know it was unplanned and unexpected but I am glad it happened.” His fingers ran through her brown curls. “Do you regret it?”

Harry thought if she said no then he would die, but fortunately she shook her head and looked up to meet his gaze again. “No, but it wasn't how I expected my first time to be,” she said honestly.

Harry swallowed hard and brought his hand up to meet her rosy cheek. “I figured that much,” he said. “I am sorry that it happened this way. I wish it could have been with somebody you…”

Hermione placed a finger against his lips to silence him. Her tears were now running dry. “Shhh,” she said. “I am glad it was with you.”

Harry smiled at her and pulled her into a big hug. Hermione clung to him desperately as if he might disappear with the blink of an eye. Harry smoothed back her hair and wiped away a few stray tears still lingering on her face. He leaned in and his lips brushed against hers which turned into a tender and gentle kiss, which Hermione seemed to enjoy. Harry didn't dare make the kiss forceful and try and turn it into something else, the last thing he wanted to do was frighten Hermione away by making her think all he wanted her for was sex. That was the last thing he wanted.

Listening to Harry tell her all these things that she had been dying to hear suddenly lifted her spirits. For a little while she could almost forget about her fear that she had failed in all she set out to do in life and her horrible public argument with her mother.

Hermione pulled away from the kiss. “Thank you.”

“For what?” he asked feeling confused.

“Well for being honest with me,” she told him. “But mostly for making me feel something. These past two years have been very difficult for me. And it's been so long since I have felt something. I was honestly beginning to wonder if I was still alive inside, thank you.”

Once Hermione had fully calmed down and Harry's words had sunk in, Harry encouraged her off the floor and to join him on the couch. She was hesitant at first but he assured her that the only action that would be happening on the couch tonight was talking and eating ice cream.

So together they sat and drank tea and ate ice cream while Hermione talked to Harry about how she had been feeling for the past few years. She laughed, she cried but in the end she felt so much better to get all of her pain and suffering out in the open. Harry even confided in her that he had moments where he felt so consumed by the media and the post-war atmosphere that he just wanted to pack up and runaway. One time he did just that by packing a suitcase and apparated to Singapore where two hours later he came to his senses and apparated back home, where he spent the next two days pissed from Fire Whiskey.

Hermione chuckled when Harry tried to imitate the look Hedwig gave him when he apparated back from Singapore drunk and tried to feed her frozen olives instead of her owl treats, resulting in Hermione spilling melted ice cream all over her party dress.

“Shit!” Hermione screeched scrambling to her feet. The melting ice cream was now running down the length of the dress. “This is dry clean spell only. I can't fix this with a normal s…OHH IT'S COLD!” The ice cream had now dripped onto her leg and was slowly streaming its way down.

“Hold on a sec!” Harry shouted. He ran out of the living room and down the hall and returned a moment later with a towel and a scarlet red shirt which he thrust into Hermione's arms. “Here change into that, you can use the bathroom.”

Hermione rushed off and emerged ten minutes later wearing Harry's old scarlet Gryffindor Seeker shirt with gold lettering that hung like a nightgown on her.

“Thanks for the shirt,” Hermione said, smoothing it out over her hips. “I can't believe you still have this thing. It's from what sixth year?”

“No, seventh, it's my favorite shirt,” he told her. He swallowed hard at the sight of her in his shirt. “So, did you save your dress?”

“Yeah, it's hanging up. I cast the dry clean only charm on it; it takes three hours to set in without being touched,” Hermione explained. She reached beside Harry to grab her purse and tried to slip in a small item hoping Harry wouldn't notice, but unfortunately he did.

“What's that?”

“What's what?” she asked nonchalantly.

“That thing you're trying to hide from me in your purse,” he said with a grin tugging at the corners of his mouth.

“There's nothing in my purse!”

Harry laughed and reached forward to grab the purse out of her hands.

“Harry, there's nothing…”

“A SPELL BOOK?” Harry laughed. “You carry a mini sized spell book with you where ever you go?'

“I'm a busy witch, and it comes handy!” Hermione said with her hands on her hips.

“Oh, how very Hermione of you,” Harry joked.

“Shut up, Potter!” Hermione said, snatching her book back and falling next to him on the couch. She tucked it back into her purse then turned back to find him watching her.

“I'm sorry you had a horrible birthday,” he said.

“I didn't, it turned out pretty good,” she told him. “Thank you for making this one of the best birthday's I've had in a very long time.”

They continued to talk well into the night and soon after Hermione's eyes grew heavy and she fell asleep. Harry watched her for a while. She looked so peaceful when she was asleep, like an angel. Harry knew she was the most beautiful creature he had ever laid eyes on. When the clock struck midnight Harry scooped Hermione up in his arms, and her head fell limply against his shoulder. Harry smiled as she sighed contently and snuggled against him. He carried her down the hall and into his bedroom where he gently lay her down on his large bed. He brushed the hair away from her eyes and pulled the covers over her shoulder.

He leaned in close to her ear. He watched her for a moment before he kissed her head. “Goodnight, Hermione,” he gently whispered in her ear. He turned to leave the room so he could spend the night sleeping on the couch.

***

Hermione awoke the next morning feeling like Harry had rekindled a new fire in her soul. She opened her eyes and found herself lying in the middle of a large comfortable bed. For a moment she wondered where she was then when all the Quidditch memorabilia registered in her mind she knew she was in Harry's bed. She automatically knew that Harry must have carried here in there last night, and he must have spent the night on the couch. The idea of wearing Harry's favorite shirt and sleeping in his bed sent wicked tingles down her spine and made her grin mischievously.

She threw the covers back and slipped her feet over the edge, letting them meet the cold floor. This was the first time in years in which Hermione could remember that she had woken up with a smile. She stood up and walked out of the bedroom and into the living room to find Harry. She expected to find him sitting in the living room, but when she got there it was empty. She looked around and saw a pillow and blanket on the couch, a pot was simmering on the stove, and Hedwig was watching her from her perch.

The sound of voices coming from the hallway caught her ear.

“Well?”

She edged closer to the door.

“It's a done deal.”

“Wonderful!”

Wait, that's Harry's voice.

“Just make sure you give me what I want, this time. Last time we were so close!”

And that's…Mariah's voice!

“I know I know. I promise you'll get what you want this time, we're really up there,” Hermione heard Harry say.

“Good,” Mariah replied. “And I'll make sure we get rid of that stupid girl. She shouldn't…she doesn't even know what to do…must be horrible at it!”

Harry laughs. “Oh I know. Probably too well!”

Mariah chuckles.

“Hopefully she'll be gone by our big day. We don't want her screwing up anything more,” Harry says. There is a long pause. “Thank you so much for this, I really appreciate it. I guess I'll see you Monday.”

Hermione pulled the door open and stepped into the hallway to find Harry and Mariah, in a tight embrace. When Harry caught sight of Hermione he jumped back a few feet and swallowed hard.

Hermione's heart was breaking into a million little pieces.

“You're a liar!”

“Hermione…” Harry said walking towards her.

“All that stuff you told me last night…all a bloody lie!” Hermione yelled. “Now you're out here with her, talking about me!”

“Mione, let me…”

“No,” she said backing away. “What's going on here, tell me the fucking truth!”

Harry stopped walking towards her, dropped his arms to his side, and sighed heavily. “You're right, Hermione, I am a liar, because I wasn't completely honest with you about Mariah.” he said, with another heavy sigh. “Let's go inside we need to talk.”

-->

Harry's words reverberated heavily in Hermione's mind. She just stood with her mouth open gaping at him. Her mind was screaming for this not to be true. Harry just stared back at her with a solemn expression. Her chest was heaving with every heavy breath she took.

Mariah shot a look to Hermione and then to Harry where she whispered something in his ear, he nodded, and she apparated out a few seconds later.

“Y-you lied to me?” she asked him. Her voice was shaky as tears began to form in her eyes.

Harry took a step forward. “Hermione--”

“DID YOU LIE TO ME?” she screamed.

Harry stopped and looked down at his feet to nod repeatedly.

NO!

Hermione huffed angrily and turned on her heel to stomp back into Harry's flat, slamming the door in Harry's face as he tried to chase after her. She scrambled around for her purse and shoes and stomped back out in the hallway to find Harry hunched over on the ground rubbing his head.

Harry immediately bolted up as soon as she stomped back out of the flat. He followed her over too the lift where she had already pressed the button to go down.

“Hermione I can--”

“NO!” she shrieked.

“Hermione, don't go!” Harry pleaded. “I can ex…”

“You'll shut up, Potter, if you know what's good for you!” Hermione snapped, turning to wave her wand in his face.

Harry swallowed hard and stumbled back as he watched the wand swaying beneath his nose. A high-pitched ding signaled the arrival the elevator, and Hermione lowered her wand.

Harry scrambled to his feet in a state of urgency. “You're jumping to con…”

Hermione raised her wand. “Petrifcus Totalus!” she cried.

Harry's body stopped in mid-step as his body instantly went rigid and fell to the floor with one heavy solid thud. She stepped onto the elevator, and as the doors closed she glanced down at Harry and caught a glimpse of a pleading look in his eyes.

The doors closed and guilt pooled in the bottom of Hermione's stomach. She honestly considered going back up to remove the spell but she told herself to snap out of it. Harry deserved what he got and the spell would wear off in about five minutes.

She caught her reflection on the stainless-steel doors, and the sight of her wearing only Harry's t-shirt and her heels brought more tears to her eyes.

How could he do something like this to me?

Hermione fought the urge to cry, but it proved to be nearly an impossible task. When the doors opened she rushed past an elderly woman waiting to board the elevator and out into the street where she climbed into her car. She gripped the steering wheel tightly in her hands as her forehead fell forward against her knuckled. She couldn't hold back any longer, the tears started to pour over.

“Why?” she shrieked. “Why did he do this to me?”

She inhaled deeply and sat back in her seat as she wiped her tears away. How could Harry do something like this to her when she so vulnerable? The question `why' kept popping up in her head, and Hermione couldn't think of a rational explanation for what Harry did. Except that maybe he had been with too many of the Quidditch groupies and now it had all gone to his head.

Nobody loves me.

Hermione didn't know what to do next, she knew she had to do something but she didn't know what. She contemplated on going back up to Harry to get more answers, but she couldn't face him right now. She was filled with rage and felt like she had just been betrayed by her best friend, who knows what she would do to Harry if she saw him again.

Hermione started her car and waited for the traffic to clear before she pulled onto the road and drove back to her own flat on the west side of London.

People stared at her as she walked from her car to entrance of her building. She guessed most people weren't used to seeing a twenty-year-old woman walking down the street wearing only a large t-shirt and heels with frazzled hair and a tear stained face.

When the lock clicked open and she stepped inside, Crookshanks immediately bolted to her feet and began rubbing against her legs. Hermione smiled weakly at her furry friend and picked him and began stroking him behind the ear. Crookshanks purred loudly.

“At least you love me, right?” Hermione told him.

Crookshanks replied with a cute face and more content purring.

Hermione dropped her keys on the table and put Crookshanks down on the counter and pressed the flashing button on her answering machine.

BEEP!

“Hey Hermione, its dad, just calling to see if you're alright. You disappeared after that row with your mum last night. Just want to make sure my best girls alright. Call when you get a minute. Love you. Bye.”

BEEP!

“Hello can somebody here me? This record device working? HELLO? HELLO? Anyways, Mione, it's Ron. You just sort of disappeared and I'm wondering if you're okay. I owled you last night, but Pig came back with nothing. So contact me as soon as you get in, I'm worried about you. Luna is having our place sprayed for flobby-wibbits, so I'll be at the Burrow. If I don't hear from you after lunch I'm going to alert the Auror's and Please-men. Bye.”

BEEP! “End of messages.”

Tears were still streaming down her pretty face, though a small part of her smiled to know that there were still people out there who cared about her.

“Ron,” Hermione said to herself, tossing some food into Crookshanks bowl. “I need to talk to Ron!”

Without a second thought, or even the notion to change into something more appropriate, Hermione apparated to the Burrow. When she got there she was standing in front of the large fire place, and Ron was sprawled out on the couch reading a copy of PlayWitch which he thrusted under the cushion as soon as he heard her apparate in.

“Hermione!” he shouted scrambling to his feet and taking in the sight of her. “What happened!?”

Tears rushed to her eyes again. “Everything is just so screwed up,” she whined.

Ron felt horribly awkward when it came to women crying in front of him, he never learned how to deal with it. Luckily, when his girlfriend, Luna, cried in front of him she always ran into another room and it never lasted very long. He was hoping Hermione would do one or the other, but she didn't. She just stood in front of him allowing her tears to fall. Ron tried to focus his eyes on something else but couldn't because he could feel her eyes burning into his. He reluctantly gave in and pulled her into a hug.

“What's screwed up?” Ron asked. “Tell me.”

“Everything in my life and-and Harry!” she said, wiping her tears.

“Harry!?” Ron said feeling surprised. “What did he do?”

“He hurt me.”

Ron flashed with anger. “HURT YOU?” he echoed. “MERLIN I SWEAR IF I FIND OUT THAT HE HIT YOU I AM GOING TO HEX OFF HIS BA-”

“Ron no!” Hermione said. “Not like that.”

“Then what?” Ron asked feeling confused. He rubbed her shoulders sympathetically, allowing her to take a deep breath and wipe her falling tears.

“Oh, gods, this is embarrassing to tell to you!”

“Hermione, we've been friends for a long time, you can tell me anything!” Ron told her. “Don't be embarrassed!”

“Okay,” Hermione said, taking a large breath. “We had sex.”

“EW!” Ron shouted. He covered his eyes with hands, as if shielding himself from her, and tripped over a foot rest as he quickly stumbled backwards in his attempt to get away. “AHHH! GROSS, YOU CAN'T TELL ME THAT! YOU'RE HERMIONE GRANGER YOUR NOT SUPPOSED TO HAVE SEX! AND WITH HARRY…ICK!” Ron stood up. “Oh my poor ears…my VIRGIN ears!”

Hermione glared at him. “Ronald, shut up!” Hermione huffed. “I know this awkward and if I had anybody else to talk to about this besides you I would. But you're the only one so please for once if you act like an adult, I would really appreciate it!

“Maybe Ginny would be a better choice,” Ron suggested, still wincing from the word he heard earlier.

“Are you completely daft? Ginny used to date Harry that would be completely awkward!”

“More awkward then this?” he muttered under his breath.

“What?”

“Nothing,” Ron said. “What about Luna?”

More tears spilled over. “Ron, please!”

Ron resigned. “Your right, Hermione, I'm sorry. We have been friends for a long time and the one time you come to me with a problem I do this,” he said. “I am almost 20 I should be able to handle this!”

“Thanks,” Hermione replied.

“So can I ask what's up with your outfit?” Ron asked. “Take it that's Harry's shirt.”

Hermione nodded.

Ron groaned, this is a terribly uncomfortable situation for him. “Why don't we go into the kitchen and talk about this. I will make you some tea and I'll have a nice big bottle of fire whiskey,” Ron said, ushering Hermione in the direction of the kitchen.

Hermione spent the next two hours pouring her emotions out to Ron about the situation between her and Harry. Ron sat back and chugged down glass after glass of fire whiskey as he listened; surprised to learn his best friend would shag his other best friend shagged his other best friend then betrayer her.

“Harry did that?”

Tears were rushing down her cheeks again as she nodded.

“So tell me what you heard them saying out in the hallway again?” Ron asked, downing another shot.

Hermione inhaled and wiped away the tears that were still flowing. “T-they said that they want me gone by their big day so I don't ruin any more of their plans. They said I was stupid and I didn't know what I was doing. And that stupid slut wants Harry to do something for her and me out of the picture.”

“This Mariah girl you're telling me about, I've heard of her she's famous on this side of England for toying with all the men. I don't know one man is his right mind who wouldn't give up his left testicle to be with a woman like her!”

“Ron!” Hermione shrieked. “You're not helping!”

“Sorry,” Ron mumbled, pointing to his bottle of Fire Whiskey.

Hermione finished up her conversation and downed the last of her tea and thought it would be a good idea to apparate out before the rest of the Weasley family came home ad started questioning her on her appearance. She mumbled a quick goodbye to Ron and apparated out in front of the fire place.

Ron sat alone at the kitchen table with his shot glass and bottle of fire whiskey, taking in everything that Hermione had told him over the past couple of hours. Even in his high alcoholic state he knew something didn't add up, it just didn't sound like something Harry would do.

He stood up and put the bottle and shot glass away. It was at that moment he had a brilliant idea soar through his intoxicated mind. He summoned two pieces of parchment and a quill and sat back down and chuckled to himself as he began writing.

A few hours later halfway across the country, Hermione was returning home from picking up a few things from Diagon Alley. She used her wand to unlock her flat and stepped inside. She had been trying to keep herself busy so not to focus on Harry.

She piled the ingredients she bought in her potions cupboard and turned to notice Pig hovering outside her window. She crossed the room and opened the window and over-excited little owl came fluttering in. Hermione practically had to wrestle with the little creature in order for him to stay long enough to untie the letter from his leg.

When she finally did she pulled the letter out of the envelope and started to read it.

Dear Hermione,

Since your birthday party didn't go exactly as planned and I wasn't

able to give you your birthday present how about lunch this

Monday at Mangora's Wizarding café? See you then.

- Ron

Hermione folded up the letter and turned to find some parchment to write back of her acceptance.

* * * * * * *

Much to Hermione's surprise she hadn't heard a word from Harry. She figured that sometime over the past 48 hours Harry would have tried to owl or leave a message on her answering machine to try and explain himself. But he didn't and it was better that way because Hermione wanted nothing to do with him right now…or that's at least what she told herself.

Hermione raced through the busy streets of Diagon Alley glancing at her watch. She was already ten minutes late for her lunch with Ron, and by how slow people in the streets were walking she was probably going to be much later then that. Finally after getting around all the slow people, Hermione made it to the fancy restaurant.

“May I help you, miss?” the elderly man asked as she entered.

“Yes, I'm here to meet Ronald Weasley,” she told him.

“Please follow me, miss.”

Hermione followed the elderly man through the crowded restaurant. When she moved around the corner to a private sitting area she spotted Ron sitting at the table talking with…Harry! Hermione stopped in her tracks and stared at them for a few seconds. She wanted to turn and run but Ron had already spotted her and was calling her name. Hermione took in a large breath pushing her anger down in the pit of her stomach and made her way over to the table. And by the surprised look plastered on Harry's face, Hermione figured that he hadn't been expecting her either. Hermione made a mental note to kill Ron later.

Hermione sat down across from Harry as the waiter politely held her chair out for her and tucked her back in. She made sure not to make any eye contact with him. When the waiter left, Hermione kicked Ron under the table and glared at him when she was sure Harry wasn't looking.

Ron replied with a cheeky grin that infuriated her.

“You're late, Granger!”

“I know,” she replied angrily, reaching for a menu. It took all her willpower not to smack him with it.

“Why?”

Hermione lowered the menu and glared at the red head. “That's not really any of your concern now it, Weasley?”

“I believe it is when you're late for a lunch when I'm treating,” he replied.

She rolled her eyes. “My sister called just as I was walking out the door with some important news.”

“And?”

Her eyes widened in disbelief, would he ever give it a rest? “You're a nosey git today!

Ron beamed. “And?”

She was definitely going to Avada Kedavra him into the next eternity.

Hermione narrowed her eyes again. “I don't really see the purpose in telling you but, I'm going to be an Aunt this spring,” she stated.

Harry mumbled a half-hearted congratulations, which Hermione chose to ignore.

“That's brilliant, but isn't Shelby a little young to be having a baby?”

“She's eighteen years old and getting married this coming Christmas. They were planning on starting a family right away anyway, so it's just going to happen a few months early now. Charles and Shelby are excited. Dad's happy. Mum is thrilled, and I'm still the family failure, can we order now?”

“Hermione you're n--”

“The special sounds excellent!” Hermione said rather loudly, cutting off the red head she was infuriated with as she glanced at her menu.

Ron rolled his eyes and picked up his menu.

Over the course of the next hour Harry and Hermione awkwardly ate lunch across from each other avoiding eye contact or speaking to each other. Hermione had also taken an effort to try and ignore Ron and glare at him every time possible. Hermione thought she noticed Harry doing the same thing. Honestly, what was Ron playing at here? He knew what Harry had done to her and two days later he tricks into having lunch with him. He was an utter arsehole and deserved to be slaughtered with a muggle butcher knife! Ron was growing increasingly annoyed with them as his plan to lure them both here to get them talking again wasn't working. He tried corner them into conversations, but it didn't work. They were working extra hard on pretending the other wasn't there.

Ron dropped his fork on his plate which made a loud clang and made Harry and Hermione jump.

“Ron, what the--” Harry cried.

“You two are being a bunch of gits. You have over eight years of friendship behind you and your going to piss that all away because of one lousy night?” Ron cried, looking from one friend to the other. “Now I am going to the bathroom and when I come back I want to find you two being friends again!”

Ron pushed his chair out and stomped off in the direction of the loo.

Hermione huffed and put a forkful of trifle in her mouth.

“You know, for the smartest witch to walk through the halls of Hogwarts in over two hundred years, you sure can be stupid at times, Hermione,” Harry blurted out.

So it begins.

Hermione shot him a surprised look. “Excuse me? What is that supposed to mean!”

“It means you've got brains, Granger,” Harry said angrily, pointing at his head. “But you don't always use them!”

“Do not get started with me!” Hermione said accusingly. “You have nothing to be angry at me for.”

Harry scoffed. “I have no reason to be mad at you?”

“Yeah, I'm not the one who lied. You are!”

“I did nothing over the sorts, Hermione. You say I have nothing to be angry at you for yet you're the one who walked out on me after we made love, you're the one who is constantly calling me a liar and won't believe what I'm telling you is the truth, and you're the one who cursed me and left me for anybody to find! I don't know about you but that sounds like a good enough reason to be mad to me. I have done nothing but bend over backwards to try and make you feel wanted and loved and you do nothing but retort with false accusation after accusation!” Harry said, his voice starting to rise angrily. “I don't know what's going on with you, we have been best friends for so long and you've never had a problem trusting me before, so what's going on now?”

“Harry, you lied to me!”

Harry groaned and burst up from the table. “HOW MANY BLOODY TIMES DO I HAVE TO TELL YOU? I DIDN'T LIE TO YOU.”

Hermione threw her napkin on the table and burst up with rage to look Harry in the eye. “Yes, you did. I heard you talking out in the hallway about me with that brainless woman you're seeing behind my back! I heard you two saying you wanted me out of the picture, and that something was a done deal. You called me stupid you're going to give her something she wants. You even admitted that you lied to me!”

“Well if you had kept your loud mouth shut two days ago we wouldn't be having this argument now!”

Hermione gasped, she was thankful they were in a secluded part of the restaurant.

“I never technically lied to you, Hermione, just…withheld information. Mariah is a sister of a friend of mine and we went on a few dates last year but that's the extent of it and my so called lying!” Harry shouted. “I am sorry if I have caused you any unintentional pain but you just keep jumping to conclusions. What you overheard was something I did for you!”

“What?”

“First of all, that crack about the stupid woman, and the person we have to get rid of before the big day (Quidditch World Cup) was directed to the Minister's 86-year-old secretary who spelled my name `Harry Pooter' on the Quidditch fliers. Secondly, Mariah is a good friend of mine, she's a huge Quidditch supporter and her family funded England in the World Cup last season. She is also dating the Minister of Magic and has a lot of influence so when I asked for a favor she agreed as long as I promised to give her what she wants, which is for England to win the cup next season!”

Hermione was starting to feel stupid. “What favor?”

“Friday there is a big conference at the Ministry and Ministers from all over the world will be there. I asked Mariah to pull a few strings and at noon on Friday, you have ten minutes to plead your case and convince the minister to give you back your department!”

Hermione stared at Harry with disbelief and collapsed back into her chair. She immediately realized how foolish she had been acting, and regretted everything she accused Harry of. She wanted to tell him how sorry she was but didn't know how to express it, she was mute with shock.

“T-thank you,” she managed to say.

“I know how much of your heart and soul you poured into helping those elves and it shouldn't have been taken away like that.” Harry said, with and an air of anger still in his tone.

Hermione stood up and moved towards Harry to give him a hug but he held up his hand to protest and backed away.”

“No, Hermione, it's over. What we had or…potentially had is done. I can't take this from you anymore, it's just too much to deal with on a daily basis,” he picked his coat up off the back of the chair and put it on and slowly moved towards the exit. “I think we should take a break from seeing each other and maybe in a few weeks we can reevaluate our friendship again. Good luck on Friday.”

“Harry wait,” Hermione called standing up again.

“Goodbye, Hermione,” Harry replied, walking away.

She fell back into her chair and sighed, allowing everything over the last few days wash over her, knowing it was all her fault.

“Hermione?” Harry said turning around, before he turned the corner.

“Yeah?” she replied dismally, not looking up to meet his gaze.

“Why are you so scared that somebody will actually like you for who you are that you feel you have to push them away?” he asked.

Harry didn't wait for her reply but turn on his heel and left the classy restaurant. Hermione looked up just time to see his backside going around the corner.

Hermione sighed, she never felt more alone in her life then she did at that moment.

* * * * * * *

The days following Hermione's encounter with Harry were long and painful. She would spend her days walking through the muggle neighborhood she grew up in, wondering if she would ever feel as happy and safe as she did with Harry the night of her birthday. Would that one night be her one shining moment of glory she would come to call the highlight of her life? Would that one night be the only night she felt truly loved and would she be reflecting on those brief moments for the rest of her life? Those were the questions that kept flowing through her mind and she didn't know the answers to any of them.

The nights were even tougher. That's when all of the walls she had bricked up would fall and her emotions would consume her. She would spend hours curled up in the dark crying. She felt worse then she did before when she felt like Harry was to blame for everything. Now she realized everything had been her fault, and she felt like she had lost control over the situation. At least when she was blaming Harry, she felt like she could fix the situation if she wanted to. Now it was out of her hands. She had been too foolish and now she realized it may have cost her the only thing she ever really wanted…Harry.

She tried sending Harry a letter of apology early Wednesday morning, but it returned an hour later unopened, which only upset her more. She avoided seeing Ron; figuring it would be too awkward. She was still mad at him for surprising her at lunch with Harry but not as mad as she was, some good had come out of it.

By the time Wednesday night had rolled around, Hermione realized she needed to try and push Harry out of her mind and begin focusing on the speech she had to write for Friday afternoon.

Ron owled her that morning telling her he wouldn't be able to make it to the conference to see her speech because he would have to work. It's saddened her to know nobody she cared about would be there to watch, but deep down she preferred it that way. She wasn't ready to see Ron yet and answer his questions about Harry. It was still a tough subject for her. She wished she could erase all the stupid selfish things she had done in the past week and have Harry talking to her.

But the part that amazed her most was the moment he told her that nothing could happen between them her heart shattered and she knew she loved him.

* * * * * * * *

Hermione had just finished her speech and walked off stage proudly as the sound of clapping rung through her ears. She felt confident about her speech and really felt that the Minister of Magic was going to change his mind and give her back her department.

Hermione made her way into a small hallway that led to a large room and collapsed against the wall taking in the largest breath of her life. Her heart was beating rapidly in her chest and she closed her eyes to take in the blissful moment with her testimony clutched tightly too.

When she heard the sounds of footsteps echoing off the marble floor, she stood up straight to see the minister walking towards her and an elderly balding man in magenta robes in his wake.

“Miss Granger,” the minister said, extending his hand. Hermione took it and shook it. “How are you today?”

“I am good,” Hermione replied.

“Wonderful. Now, Miss Granger, as wonderful as that speech was I am sorry but I am still going to have to turn you down. We just don't have the funding ad it is a meaningless cause,” the minister told her. “I am sorry but that is my final word on the case.” The minister turned around and began walking away but the man in the magenta robes didn't move a muscle.

“Rufus, vous ne m'avez pas introduit,” the balding man called out.

Rufus Scrimgeour turned on his heel and walked back to his friend in magenta robes and stared at him with a bewildered look plastered on his face. “Pardon?”

“Rufus, vous ne m'avez pas introduit,” he repeated.

“I'm sorry…but-” the minister mumbled.

“He said you didn't introduce us,” Hermione informed the minister.

Scrimgeour seemed a little taken back that Hermione could speak French. “Oh well then…erm…this…um.”

Hermione ignored the bumbling minister and held out her hand. “Bonjour, je suis Hermione Granger. Qui seriez-vous?” (Hello, I am Hermione Granger. Who would you be?) Hermione said politely.

The French wizard looked delighted and took her hand. “Je suis Alfan Guillamue, le Ministre de Magie de France,” (I am Alfan Guillamue, Minister of Magic of France) the man in the magenta robes replied.

“C'est agréable pour vous rencontrer. J'ai entendu du rien mais choses merveilleuses de votre ministère,” (It's nice to meet you. I have heard nothing but wonderful things about your ministry.) Hermione told him.

“Merci. Vous avez donné un discours merveilleux aujourd'hui,” (Thank you. You gave a wonderful speech today,) The French minister told her.

“Merci beaucoup. Donc vous parlez l'anglais alors?” (Thank you very much. So you speak English then?)

“Couramment. Mais je fais semblant je peux si je ne peux pas regarder ce buffoon fait semblant il est maître du tongue français. Quand il ne peut pas parler un mot seul de lui. Très amusant!” (Fluently. But I pretend I cannot so I can watch this buffoon pretend he is a master of the French tongue. When he can't speak a single word of it. Very amusing!)

Hermione giggled in response.

“Il est aussi idiot s'il ne veut pas qu'un fonctionnement une dur jeune femme comme vous travaillant dans son ministère,” (He is also a fool if he doesn't want a hard working young woman like you working in his ministry.) The French minister told her.

Hermione blushed. “Merci.”

“Mademoiselle Granger, je serais honoré si vous viendriez le travail pour moi en France. Vous êtes extrêmement consommé et je me sens que vous amèneriez alot à notre Ministère. Et vous parlez le français admirablement. S'il vous plaît dire que vous nous joindrez.” (Miss Granger, I would be honored if you would come work for me in France. You are highly skilled and I feel you would bring a lot to our Ministry. And you speak French beautifully. Please say you will join us.) The French minister asked.

Hermione was stunned, her mouth was slightly open. “Etes-vous sérieux?” (Are you serious?)

“De grossier. Donc vous nous joindrez ?” (Of coarse. So will you join us?)

Hermione beamed. “Excuser m'est émoussé mais… OUI!” (Excuse me for being blunt but…YES!)

The French minister laughed at her enthusiasm. “Accueillir à notre Ministère. Je suis honoré pour avoir une femme de votre intelligence travaillant pour nous. Je vous admire pour ce que vous faites pour ces elfes. J'espère avoir plus de gens comme vous travaillant pour moi un jour. Je dois aller maintenant, j'ai une réunion avec les Américains. Comment de nous rencontrons vendredi prochain à mon bureau pour discuter ceci plus?” (Welcome to our Ministry. I am honored to have a woman of your intelligence working for us. I admire you for what you are doing for these elves. I hope to have more people like you working for me someday. I must go now, I have a meeting with the Americans. How about we meet next Friday at my office to discuss this further?)

“Oui! Merci!”

The French minister smiled again. “Vous voir alors.” (See you then.)

Hermione watch the French minister turn and begin walk away. Rufus Scrimgeour looked her over with a baffled expression and then turned to the French minister to find out what just happened. When they exited through the door at the end of the long hallway Hermione began squealing with joy and jumping up and down.

“Now, I don't speak French but by your reaction I would say congratulations are in order.”

Hermione whirled around to see a tall frame of a person leaning against the far wall.

“Harry?”

“Yeah,” he replied, starting to walk towards her. “Did you get it?”

“Yes! Scrimgeour turned me down again but the French Ministry wants me. I'm going to be working in Paris!” Hermione said excitedly. Then she remembered the situation between them. “What are you doing here? I thought you said you wanted to reevaluate our friendship.”

“I was being stupid when I said that, I'm sorry…for everything,” Harry said. “I didn't mean any of it. And did you really think I would miss your big speech? We are best friends after all.”

“Oh, Harry you have nothing to be sorry for. I'm the one who should be apologizing. I was being such an idiot I didn't realize what I was doing to you. I am so sorry…for everything!” Hermione said. “And honestly you looked so mad at the restaurant that I would have expected to see Malfoy here cheering me on before you.”

Harry was only standing a few inches away from her body, and her heart was thumping madly in her chest.

“I need you, Hermione. I tried to put you out of my mind and try to forget you but I couldn't. It took all my will power not to respond to that owl you sent. I want you in my life.”

“Harry please don't do this if you just want to be friends my heart can't--”

Harry cut her off with a kiss, and Hermione's knees went weak. Harry's arms snaked around her middle to keep her from falling and Hermione's fingers ran through his raven colored locks.

When they pulled away Hermione looked into Harry's eyes and smiled. “Harry, I love you,” she whispered.

Harry pulled her in tighter. “I love you too,” he replied.

The both beamed happily and leaned in for another kiss. After they had a five minute long make out session like two horny teenagers in a broom closet, Hermione pulled back. “Thank you,” she whispered.

“For what?”

“Making this the best day of my life,” she said. “Because of you I got my job back, and best of all I got you. Thank you!”

“Do you want to go get some coffee and celebrate?” Harry asked.

“No, I've got a better idea,” Hermione replied.

“And what would that be?”

Hermione gave him a naughty grin. “Let's go back to my place instead.”

A/N: For those of you who speak French and want to lynch me for the horrible French I used. I would just like to inform you I do not speak a work of French, I used a translating website. So blame the website not me.

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Hello : )

Sorry to get your hopes up, but this is not a chapter update, it's an author note. I know I haven't updated in forever and I am sorry about that. I just wanted to explain to my readers what has been going on. The reason I haven't updated in a while is because I have had some unpleasant things happen which has kept me from writing as much as I'd like. Also I recently found out that I am moving and now everything is up in the air and confusing. Also I am not sure how long I am going to have the internet it might be cut off soon. I will try and get as much done as I can and post ASAP, but no guarantees. I am really really sorry for the lack of updates but please bear with me.

Thank you,

Vanilla

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