A/N - the question 'what is wrong with Harry' won't be answered in this chapter. Sorry. This one is kinda fluff. Thanks for all the reviews, they're brilliant, really make my day. Enjoy this one and the next chapter we learn all about Harry.
Chapter 7
Hermione had read how the beginning of a relationship was called the 'honeymoon phase' and now she understood why. She had never smiled and laughed so much before in her life. Ever.
Neither needing to work (for various reasons), they stayed in Oxford for a while longer, spending their days playing tourist and their nights getting to know each other - intimately. It was bliss.
Hiarry's health steadily improved to the point where he was a weight that was better suited and the bags that had been such a prominent feature under his eyes were now gone. But he still had nightmares and his magic was still absent with Hermione none the wiser as to why - it was one of the many things Harry wouldn't talk about.
Because even though they talked a lot, it never seemed to be about Harry. Hermione had lain awake many nights, often feeling the comforting weight of his arm around her waist as she did so, thinking about their conversations. They were regularly one sided, with Harry asking all the questions and Hermione telling him all her thoughts and dreams. When she tried to draw out from him what he wanted, the subject was changed with such skill that Hermione often didn't realise he hadn't answered her questions until she lay in the quietness of the night, thinking.
It was bliss, but it wasn't perfect.
As June began to hit them in earnest, things finally began to settle down in their relationship and reality steadily returned. It was time to move on.
It was Hermione's acceptance letter into the University of Wales that started the change. She had attended an interview to plead her case to be accepted into the Celtic Studies course a week after she met Harry, even though applications had closed months before. She hadn't rated her chances of getting in that high at all and was surprised when she was told she had been accepted. Which meant that in three months time she would need to be settled in and ready to study - where: she didn't know.
Harry seemed genuinely pleased for her, taking her out that night to celebrate and joining in in her excited discussion of the classes she wanted to take and the wonders of Aberystwyth, the city where the university belonged. But she couldn't help noticing his joy didn't last as over the following days he began to subtly pull away, spending more and more time alone.
Hermione knew instinctively that Harry was struggling with something and it wouldn't serve any purpose to try and drag what was going on in his mind out of him. She needed to be patient.
A few weeks passed before she found out the reason for his silence, his explanation being blurted out to her after a meal of fish and chips one Wednesday night.
He told her that he had chosen to live at his family home in Godric's Hollow rather than Grimmauld Place pretty much as soon as he left St Mungo's He had visited the derelict cottage on his release from the wizarding hospital and after talking things over with the Weasley's and Remus, he had decided to move in once it was fixed up. He had then employed Remus to manage the rebuilding with the instruction to make it as close to its original state as possible, with a few extra mod cons. The building was now complete.
The significance was that Godric's Hollow was only an hours train ride from Aberystwyth and although he had made his plans before they had met, and she had made her choice based on course structure more than location, it seemed too surreal. No wonder Harry was a bit scared - when she found out, Hermione was a bit scared as well.
They planned to visit Godric's Hollow and check out the cottage, and they planned to get there by rail - not a small feat as it took nearly a whole day and many changes of trains to get to the central Welsh coast town. Remus had offered to Apparate them there, but after talking about it, the young couple had chosen to take the train - something which Hermione was extremely grateful for.
The long ride was giving her a chance to sort some things out in her mind as Harry talked less and less the closer they got to Wales. She had finally given up on conversation by the time they left Liverpool and although they were holding hands, she knew he wasn't really with her. A small part of her was hurt - her female pride wounded that he wouldn't share his thoughts with her although she was his girlfriend and they should share everything.
But she knew Harry and she knew that years of abuse from the Dursley's then having Voldemort threaten not only him but also his friends had made Harry try to deal with things on his own.
She needed to be patient.
Perhaps it wasn't ideal (all the books and magazines she had read on relationships over the years stated that communication was the key to a successful partnership) but she was content to sit in the silence and wait.
She also had to keep reminding herself that even though Harry was nearly twenty-three, he was in fact still a seventeen year old boy unsure of the world and all that happens in it - which included herself. Yet another reason she needed to be patient.
When the train finally stopped at the small seaside town of Borth, it was early evening and they were both extremely tired. But Harry was determined to see the place before they relaxed so they caught a taxi and made the short trip to a waiting Remus at number 23 Golden Snitch Avenue, Godric's Hollow.
Hermione stepped out of the taxi and looked at the cottage in awe. The sun was beginning to set, giving the earth a burnt hew and making the small house seem to glow. The last time she had seen it, it had been in ruins but now - it was gorgeous.
"Welcome you two," Remus smiled, drawing Hermione into a hug before shaking Harry's hand, "well, let's get straight into it then, while the light is still good. Ready Harry?"
Harry just nodded and with a small worried glance at Hermione, who was standing slightly to the side, Remus led Harry towards the house.
Hermione followed a few steps behind, not wanting to intrude on something she knew was so personal for Harry and the reason behind his silence. But she couldn't help marvelling at the transformation of the cottage, represented it seemed, by the stained glassed insert of a phoenix that had been embedded in the front door. Perfect.
She made her way into the first room, the polished wooden floors, large fireplace and beautiful bay window the only features in the otherwise empty space but her mind was putting furniture and furnishing in it, imagining it complete.
She shook her head - this wasn't her house to furnish.
Remus was busy explaining the features of each room and what they had done to it while Harry was silently listening. If Remus was unnerved by Harry's quietness, he didn't show it, talking enough to cover any awkwardness. Hermione guessed he understood.
Meanwhile, she stood back and made her own observations about the house, loving every inch she saw, and listened intently to what Remus was saying. They made their way up the stairs to where the bedrooms were (two double sized, one smaller room), the bathroom and the final room of the tour - the library.
As soon as she stepped through the door, she knew that this was her favourite room of the house. A large fireplace on one wall and a huge window that was nearly floor to ceiling on another, with the view overlooking the back garden and distant ocean; every other wall was lined with bookcases. Floor to ceiling bookcases. Many, many bookcases.
"Lily loved books," Remus was explaining, "and had always wanted a full library that she could call her own so James built this room for her. It was her favourite room in the house."
Hermione barely heard him speak, her mind consumed by how many shelves she could already fill, where she could put a desk, what rugs she could put on the floor. She walked around the room, running her hand absently over the mantle before reaching the window and looking out. The view was amazing although the sun was almost gone. She loved this place.
She jumped slightly when she felt Harry's arms snake around her waist, making her turn around and look at him - and he was smiling. Giving her a small peck on the nose, he then let her go and turned to Remus.
"You've done a brilliant job," he said, his voice thick with emotion, "I love it, every thing about it. Thank you so much Remus."
"It was my pleasure Harry," Lupin grinned with what Hermione thought was relief, "actually, I kind of enjoyed doing it."
"Excellent, because I'd like to hire you again," Harry continued, a bit more in control.
"You don't need to," the old wizard shrugged somewhat sadly, "you've paid me more than enough for doing this, I don't want to keep taking your money…"
"I'm not giving it to you Lupin," Harry stated firmly, leaving Hermione by the window, "this isn't charity. I need another place done up and you are the perfect person to oversee that project. So, will you take the job or not?"
"Where?" Remus asked hesitantly, already knowing the answer.
"Grimmauld Place."
Remus and Tonks had been living in Sirius's old house since the end of the war and Hermione could see the disappointment in his face as he realised this meant the end of that arrangement.
"I guess it wouldn't be far to go to work," he said with a sad smile, "how would you like it done?"
"In any style you like, I don't care," Harry replied nonchalantly, "you'll be living in it after all."
"You…you don't want us to shift out?" Remus asked, sounding confused.
"Why in bloody hell would I want you to shift out?" Harry frowned, "then the place would be empty and you and Tonks would be homeless. That's just stupid. So, is that a yes, Remus?"
"That's a yes Harry," Remus grinned, "thank you."
Harry just nodded and gave him a small smile before striding out of the room. Hermione watched him go with both confusion and pride, forgetting for a moment she wasn't alone until Remus spoke.
"Are you sure you want to stay at the Hollow and not come with me to London?" he asked, "Tonks said she'd be back from work about eight."
"Er, no. No, but thanks Remus," Hermione replied, blinking her eyes rapidly to break herself out of her thoughts, "Harry wanted to stay here. We saw the bed and breakfast on our way so…"
"Are you sure?" Remus continued, frowning slightly, "would you like me to take you there? It would be no problem."
"I think we'll be fine walking," Hermione answered, confidently, "after a day on a train, the exercise will be good. Besides, it's not far."
"Right," Remus smiled knowingly before giving Hermione a small hug, "well, I'll be off. Harry has the key to lock the place up. I guess I'll see you both tomorrow at around nine."
Hermione said her goodbye and then stood there for a moment in the library of the house that she dreamed she'd one day share with the man she loved. Maybe one day.
Sighing, she went to find Harry.
It took only minutes as he was standing in the doorway of the smallest bedroom, the room that had once been his. The nursery. She came up behind him and slipped her hand into his, giving him the smallest bit of comfort.
"Has he gone?" he asked, his voice breaking the silence.
"Yes." Harry nodded.
"Remus has done a brilliant job," he carried on after a moment.
"Yes he has," Hermione replied, "you have a beautiful home Harry."
He looked at her then, his eyes glistening by the new half moon's light coming through the window.
"This is our home, Hermione," he stated, slightly confused, "even before I found you, I wanted to start this, to live here, with you…"
"You want me to live with you?"
"Well, yeah."
Hermione pulled back from him, hiding herself in the shadows. Her mind screamed, telling her she couldn't live with a man she wasn't married to, that it was wrong, that her parents wouldn't have approved, that it was against everything she believed in.
But she knew in her heart that she was practically living with him now, that she had had sex before marriage - something she had vowed she'd never do - which her parents wouldn't have approved of and that it was Harry. Her Harry. The man she loved more than life itself.
"Hermione?"
"I…I need to think about it Harry," she stuttered nervously, "I…I didn't know…"
"Oh."
She heard the hurt in his voice but her mind was whirling in such confusion, her heart and her head debating so vigorously, that she didn't have the energy to make him feel better. Instead, she followed him as they grabbed their bags, made their way out of the house and down the street to the small bed and breakfast, not touching, each lost in their own thoughts.
They checked in, Hermione startled when Harry gruffly asked if there was an extra room, standing there dumfounded when he left her alone to make his way to the spare room they found for him. With tears in her eyes, she went to her own room, waiting until the door was shut before bursting into tears.
She didn't sleep at all as her logic continued to hit her with questions and then subsequent answers on why she didn't jump at the chance to live with the man she loved.
There was a lot of fear - fear they were moving too fast, fear that others wouldn't approve, fear that it can't all be this perfect, something must go wrong. Fear that she would be lost within him, in his house.
She also was angry that he just assumed she would live with him, even though he had never mentioned the idea to her before - he hadn't even said he loved her! Yet he expected her to live with him, a huge step in any relationship. And in the house his parents shared! Had he not thought about how she'd feel about it at all?
But Hermione knew the answer to that was yes. She realised now why he had been so quiet the last weeks, that the house at Godric's Hollow had been on his mind for a number of reasons. Her and him living together would have been one of those reasons.
It was three in the morning when she finally realised what she wanted to do, ending the debates and knowing with both her heart and her head that she was making the right choice. All she needed to do now was to make it up with Harry.
At six, she made her way to the bathroom to have a shower and change clothes, hoping she wouldn't wake anyone in the early hour. Her stomach was grumbling loudly, telling her the pie and chips she had twelve hours prior had run their course and she needed more food.
Heading back to her room, she heard sounds coming from the kitchen downstairs, so with hope that breakfast wasn't too far away, she made her way to the dinning room - where Harry was already sitting.
He stood suddenly when he noticed her frozen in the door way, his face blushing terribly - why, Hermione didn't know. She did know, however, that her heart was beating extremely fast and her hands had become rather clammy.
"Er, good morning," he said hesitantly. Hermione made her way to the large table.
"Morning," she replied softly, seeing that the bags had returned to their spot under his eyes, making him look quite worse for wear, "you look terrible," she added.
"Thanks," he nodded, sitting back down, "you don't look that hot yourself."
"Couldn't sleep," she explained, trying to hide the smile that wanted to come out at their exchange, sitting down a few seats away from him.
"Neither could I," he said back. They both nodded in understanding.
"Here you go dear." Both looked up at their host who bustled in with a full cooked breakfast, which she handed to Harry.
"Thank you," he mumbled, before starting to eat - Hermione's stomach rumbled loudly. The old woman looked in Hermione's direction and beamed, seemingly unfazed that it was just past six in the morning.
"I didn't see you child," she gushed, her Welsh tones singing as she spoke, "the same for you?" Hermione nodded, glad there was no question to why she and Harry had arrived together, got separate rooms but then turn up to breakfast at nearly the same time. Instead, the host bustled back to the kitchen and soon the sound of frying bacon could be heard.
Hermione's breakfast arrived within minutes, which she quickly devoured hungrily. By the time Hermione had finished, other guests had come down for their own meals and she was glad to leave the filling dinning room to find Harry - which she did, quite easily.
He was sitting in a deck chair on the back lawn, staring into nothing. She sat down in a chair beside him, watching him as he dropped his gaze to his hands in his lap. She looked away.
"I'm sorry," she said after a moment.
"I'm sorry," he said at exactly the same time. They looked at each other and smiled.
"You go first," she instructed, suddenly feeling a bit shy.
"I'm sorry I just assumed you wanted to live with me," he explained with a deep sigh, obviously wanting to get out what he wanted to say before her, "it was presumptuous of me and it was wrong. I…I should've asked."
"Yes, you should have," Hermione agreed gently.
"I had it all planned, to ask you that is," he continued, blushing once more, "but, I don't know, it just…it all happened all wrong. Anyway, I understand if you don't want to live there, with me. As long as you and I…"
"I want to live with you Harry," she interrupted quickly, smiling when he looked at her, shocked.
"You do?"
"Yes, I do."
"Really?"
"Harry!" Hermione admonished, laughing "I said yes!"
"Right," Harry blushed (again), thinking hard before looking back at her, "what changed your mind?" Hermione thought for a moment herself then answered as truthfully as she could.
"I was shocked," she began, "I…I really just didn't expect it. I thought we were coming to see your home, where you were going to live. And then, well, you just kind of told me I was going to live there as well…"
"I'm sorry…"
"I know. The stupid thing was, my first thoughts were 'what would my mother think?' In reality, it's a bit late to worry what my mother would think, that ship sailed the moment I lost my virginity outside of wedlock…"
"Merlin, Hermione - I'm so, so sor…"
"Stop it Harry," she cut in sharply, "you didn't take something from me that wasn't willingly given. I knew what I was doing and you know something, I think mum would approve anyway. She knew how important you were to me and if she were alive, she'd know how much I love you and how much you care for me. She would be fine with the choices I've made…"
"I didn't think of that…"
"…then I thought about the fact that living in the same house together could just be a recipe for disaster, that I would get so lost in you, I wouldn't leave…"
"Hermione…"
"…but then I realised you wouldn't let that happen, and neither would I. We would make sure of that. Then there was the concern that we were moving too fast, that we've only been together a month until I thought about it, really thought about it…"
"And?"
"Well, you and I, we've been together since we were eleven really. It's not too soon. Every thing else, every other fear I have, we can work through. I mean, it makes sense any way - university is extremely close to here so…I decided that I would love to live with you."
"Wow," Harry managed to say after a while.
"Wow?"
"Yeah," he continued with a smile, "I mean, I thought of all that stuff too, well most of it, but it was over the space of two weeks. You thought of it all in a night. Is that a girl thing or a Hermione thing?"
"A bit of both," she grinned, taking his hands in hers. He smiled then leaned forward to kiss her, a wonderful tender but passionate kiss. Breathlessly, she pulled away, resting her forehead on his.
"What's the time?" he asked, panting slightly.
"About eight," she breathed.
"Do you want to go and make up?" he asked, "we have time…"
She didn't answer, instead grabbing his hand and practically dragging him up to her room.
An hour later, they turned into Golden Snitch Avenue - Hermione looked at the road sign and chuckled.
"What?" Harry asked, smiling.
"I can't believe the name of the street is Golden Snitch Avenue," she continued to chuckle.
"I know," Harry laughed, "perhaps there wasn't anything available on Bludger Lane."
"You're joking, aren't you," she stopped and looked at him, "there isn't really a Bludger Lane?"
"Actually, there is," Harry said, walking once more, "right next to Quidditch Road."
"I wonder what the Muggles living here think of the road names?" Hermione mused as she shook her head in disbelief.
"I have no idea," Harry replied, waving to an old man mowing his lawn as they walked past, "it's still pretty weird to think that this is a Muggle and wizarding town. It must work though."
They reached the end of the road, once more seeing the small cottage sitting a little back from the roads edge, quiet and unassuming. On the front lawn, Ron, his father, Shacklebolt and Remus were there talking - grinning, Harry and Hermione made their way to the small group.
"Here they are!" Mr Weasley welcomed.
"I don't even want to know why you're late," Ron added, whacking Harry good heartedly on the back, "the house looks wicked mate."
"Thanks to Remus," Harry replied, acknowledging Lupin, "thanks for coming you lot."
"We've already decided on what wards are required," Kinglsey informed them in his calming baritone, "thought we'd add a few extra to keep the admirers away."
"The more the better," Harry said earnestly, "until I can do magic, I'm really vulnerable. Though, Hermione will be with me some of the time…"
"Will she now," Ron smirked broadly, "I guess the idea of letting the buxom-blond-young-adult-fan-girls-who-want-to-leave-you-their-underway through the wards won't be a goer then."
"No Ron, it most certainly won't," Hermione informed him sternly, but her own smile twitching the edges of her mouth, knowing that Ron was only joking. Harry just laughed and put his arm across her shoulders.
"Well, how 'bout I show you what we were able to salvage from the house," Remus suggested, smiling himself, "while Ron, Arthur and Kingsley start on the wards?"
"Excellent idea Remus," Mr Weasley said enthusiastically, "see you in a bit."
With a parting wave, the three went into the heart of the house to begin the spell work while Harry and Hermione followed Remus to the cottage's double garage. He unlocked a small door on the garage's side, opening it to allow them entry - Hermione couldn't help gasping as she saw what was inside.
There was some furniture - a couple of chairs, the dinning room table, a large dresser - and boxes of many books. But even the books were unimportant as she made her way to a desk that sat in the centre of the carpeted garage floor.
"Most of James and Lily's stuff was destroyed in the attack," Remus explained, "or didn't survive the years of neglect although the house was pretty preserved. Anything of value had been taken by Albus at the very beginning and placed in the family vault - jewellery, paintings, things like that. The Potters were actually quite a wealthy family. Anyway, this is all that was left."
Hermione registered that Harry was wandering around, looking at the furniture and what was in the boxes, but she was drawn to the desk and the desk alone.
It was made of a rich, dark wood, inlaid with a paler wood around the middle where the top sat. The legs had been carved into feet of a lion while the lion's face was in the centre, facing out to those viewing it front on. The top had a leather writing surface embedded in the surface, the wood surrounding it was smooth and glowing in the light of the fluorescence bulbs on the garage ceiling. It was larger than a normal student's desk, but not too large to be ostentatious. It was perfect.
She ran her hand lovingly over the surface and looked up at Harry, who had come to her side.
"This is incredible," she breathed.
"James made that for Lily," Remus said wistfully.
"Dad made this?" Harry asked, surprised.
"Your father had many talents, Harry," Remus remembered fondly, "working with his hands was one of them. He loved working with wood and spent nearly a year making this for Lily. It's made from mahogany and willow - the same wood as his wand and hers - with the Gryffindor lion carved in for good measure. I'm amazed it still looks like it did when he first made it."
"I think this needs to go back where it belongs," Harry stated firmly, which it duly was - the first piece of furniture placed in their new home.
The next few days were spent choosing furniture and shifting Hermione's belonging's from storage in Oxford to her new home in Wales.
Their first purchase as a couple had been a bed and bed coverings, which was duly christened the night of its arrival.
Hermione lay in Harry's arms with a contented smile on her face. The last few days had been fun and now, laying in their new bed after just making love seemed to make it all so very real.
"You know," Harry started, his mouth very close to her ear, "that it's tradition that when a couple shifts into a new house, you're supposed to have sex at least once in every room…"
"Who told you that?" Hermione asked as she swivelled around in his arms so they were face to face.
"Everybody," was the reply, "and its tradition so, well, we can't break tradition now can we."
"Probably a tradition thought up by a man," she humphed, grinning.
"Probably," Harry agreed, "but a fun tradition none the less, don't you think?"
Hermione paused as if to think about before looking at a very pleased Harry.
"Maybe," she answered.
"Maybe?" he groaned, feigning indignation, "come on Hermione!"
"I said maybe Mr Potter," Hermione replied in her best 'don't mess with me' voice and returned to her original position, her back nestled into his front, the covers pulled up to her armpits. Harry stayed silent for a moment, pulling her in closer to him - Hermione smiled.
"Can I ask you a question?" he said after a while.
"Sure," she frowned - his tone was no longer playful.
"How…how did you know you loved me?" he asked causing Hermione to turn to him quickly so they were once more face to face.
"What?" she blurted out, stunned.
"How do you know you love me?" he repeated, not really looking her in the eye, "I mean, we were friends first, and…and you said before, the night before the Final Battle, that you had loved me for ages and now you still love me even though…even though you don't know how I feel. I don't know how I feel. So, how did you know, still know, that you love me?"
She looked at him as he rambled out his question, his face turning a soft shade of pink as he did so (making him look absolutely gorgeous) and realised this was it. She needed to approach this as honestly and truthfully as she could, because only then will he understand what it's like to be in love. She reached out and ran a gentle finger down the side of his face, her touch causing him to look at her; his wonderful green eyes open and vulnerable and so childly innocent.
"When you and Ron saved me from that troll, I saw then that there was something special about you - this skinny, little runt of a boy with huge green eyes and messy black hair," she smiled with fondness, "I already knew you were different, I read about you in books, but at that moment I saw why. But I was twelve, you were my best friend along with Ron, my first ever real friends, and that how it stayed for the longest while.
"Until that horrid tournament where I was sure you were going to be killed. The seeds, I think, had already been planted when we saved Sirius the year before, but it was during that fourth year that things began to change."
"H…how?"
"I think it was then I started to become a woman, I guess," she mused, "I had started to develop physically, began seeing boys as more than just those who wore pants not skirts. And Viktor Krum fancied me. Me. I mean, he had the choice of every girl in the school and he chose me. Then Ron had his little jealousy spat and I suddenly had two boys interested in me. Yet all I kept thinking about, worrying about, was you Harry."
"You were just trying to help me," Harry suggested, "like you always did."
"But this time it was different," Hermione continued, "this time I had distractions in the form of this international famous, older, wizard who wanted to get to know me better. Who thought I was attractive. But all I could think about was Harry Potter," she chuckled slightly, "much to the annoyance of Viktor."
"He asked me about you," Harry admitted, "just before the Mr Crouch incident, Krum was asking what was going on between you and me. I said you were my best friend, and that was it."
"Really? He asked you about me?" Harry nodded as reply, "wow, I didn't know that."
"Many people thought we were together back then," he added as an after thought.
"Yes, yes they did," she agreed, "and I began to think it would've been nice if we were."
"You did?"
"Yes," Hermione said thoughtfully, "here I was with this fantastic bloke and all I kept thinking of was you. I started asking myself why, thinking that it was because I was scared for you and that bloody tournament. But I realised that wasn't the case, that it was because you were starting to mean more to me. When you disappeared in that maze and then returned like you did - I knew."
"Knew?"
"That I cared more for you than just a friend," she explained, "but I didn't think it was love, I didn't know what love felt like, not really. All during the fifth year it felt like a connection was built between us but you wanted Cho in a way you didn't want me. It was then I realised I loved you and that I would never have you, that you'd never love me back."
"How…how did you know that it was love?"
"I felt comfortable with you, I trusted you, I respected you and I thought you were rather good looking," Harry snorted, unbelieving - Hermione carried on, "you were my best friend - you seemed to understand me better than anyone else, you never treated me like a freak because I liked books and reading. You were just you."
Hermione watched as Harry thought her words over. He rolled over so he was on his back, staring at the ceiling, pulling away from her touch - and she just let him. She needed to be patient.
"I thought Ginny was the one," he said finally, still staring at the ceiling, "every time I saw her, I just wanted her, like I was possessed. But when I really needed someone to talk to, to understand me, I went to you," he turned his head to her, searching her eyes with his, "I lost five years, woke to hear you and only you had stayed by my side for three of those years and to be honest, I was impressed you stayed that long.
"I spent a lot of time as I was getting better, thinking what I wanted and I knew it was love and a family of my own. And I knew the only person I wanted to do that with was you.
"Trouble was, we didn't know where you were and when I did find you and you told me you still loved me and these last months have been so brilliant, I wanted to tell you how I felt - but I just didn't know.
"I asked Ron how he knew he loved Luna and all he could tell me was that he did. I asked Remus and he said pretty much what you just did. So I've been thinking, wondering, if what I was feeling was real. Then I saw you with my mother's desk, made by my father as a sign of his love for her and I thought then that perhaps this glow, this warmth inside of me that gets stronger every time I see you is actually lo…love.
"Now I know it is, that I trust you with my life, I always have. That I respect your knowledge, your wisdom and just the way you are. You're my best friend and exceptionally cute. When I think of my future, you are always in it, by my side."
"What are you saying, Harry," Hermione whispered, tears forming in her eyes.
He turned totally, facing her, taking her shaking hands in his.
"That I love you," he stated solemnly before letting his face break into a brilliant smile, "I love you. That wasn't as hard to say as I thought it would be!"
Hermione let her tears begin to fall as she leaned forward and kissed him tenderly on the lips. When they broke apart, he frowned slightly as he noticed her tears, wiping one away softly with the pad of his thumb.
"Why are you crying?" he asked, genuinely confused.
"Because I never thought I'd hear those words from you," she admitted.
"I should have said them sooner, I…I just didn't know how."
"Which makes this moment even more special," Hermione whispered, kissing him once more, "I love you too, Harry," she breathed into his lips, making him grin, deepening their kiss and leading the way to a passion fuelled by love.
A/N - I hope that wasn't too corny…