Communication

A/N – okay, this is one of two chapters. It was going to be a one-shot but I thought the ending might just be too much for all of us H/Hr shippers out there. I guess this is yet another theory why Hermione changed tack in HBP – and in saying that, this takes place when Harry visits the Burrow at the beginning of HBP, but this is from Hermione’s POV. The one conversation that changes everything…

Oh, and thanks for the well wishes for my mum – she’s getting better and should be out of hospital in the next week or so. Cheers.

“It looks like I’m the one who’s got to finish off Voldemort…at least it said neither of us could live while the other survives.”

Hermione closed her eyes, aware of the tears that leaked from her closed lids and rolled down her face but ignored them as Harry’s words repeated again and again in her mind.

“…I always knew I had to face him in the end.”

She stifled a sob.

Harry has to kill Voldemort – it was prophesied and documented; an official record in the Department of Mysteries, part of the Ministry of Magic. That made it real. Professor Dumbledore believed it. That made it a certainty.

But still Hermione’s mind debated with the knowledge that her best friend was indeed the ‘Chosen One’, that it had been prophesied before Harry had even been born. She had never held the divination arts in high regard so that in itself was reason to see that it could all be a load of rubbish and there was no reason that Harry was destined to face the most powerful, evil wizard in years. Except it was recorded in the Ministry of Magic. And Professor Dumbledore believed it.

She let herself stare unseeingly out the window of the room she was sharing with Ginny at the Burrow. It had been just over a week now since Harry had shared his secret with herself and Ron and she thought she had been successful in hiding her concern away from them both.

Hermione chuckled sadly to herself at that thought – she had had a lot of practice at hiding her emotions away from her two friends. Especially Harry. Her tears flowed a bit heavier as she once more thought of the way she felt about him and how he didn’t seem to feel the same way, that even though they had worked so well together during their previous year at Hogwarts he was still oblivious to the fact that she liked him. She liked him a lot.

Which made the whole idea that it was up to Harry to destroy Voldemort even harder to comprehend and accept. It wasn’t fair on so many levels. It wasn’t fair because Harry didn’t ask for it. It wasn’t fair because he hadn’t even come of age and was expected to duel the most powerful wizard in the world. It wasn’t fair because his life had been so horrible already, he deserved to have some happiness. It wasn’t fair because he could be taken away from her without him knowing how much she really cared for him.

I should tell him, she thought desperately, I should just let him know.

But she shot that idea down as soon as it rose. She knew she couldn’t say anything as it could ruin everything they had, especially their friendship – something she knew was exceptionally special. Besides, this coming year at Hogwarts she felt was her year; this year Harry Potter will finally see her as more than just his ‘female best friend’.

She smiled slightly as she wiped away a few remaining tears as she thought about the last week. Harry had seemed genuinely happy to see her and even after his news, he seemed more relaxed than she had thought he’d be. Sure, he kept dodging any talk about Sirius and she sometimes saw the sadness in his eyes that he was trying so hard to hide, but he seemed happy, considering. And he chose her to be on his team when they played Quidditch with Ron and Ginny, helping her out and not making as much fun of her as the other two did. In fact, he hadn’t teased her at all even though she had been rather shocking on a broom – he had even stuck up for her a few times.

Maybe, she thought to herself, just maybe this year he’ll…

“Hey Hermione.”

Ginny’s voice broke through Hermione’s thoughts, making her quickly brush away any remnants of tears before turning away from the window in time to see Ginny enter their room. Like usual, the youngest Weasley looked stunning, dressed casually in shorts and a singlet type top that Hermione could only dream of wearing, her hair long and sleek down her back.

“Hey Ginny,” Hermione replied casually, leaving the window and going to her bed as Ginny plopped down on its twin, “how’s Dean?”

“Oh, you know,” Ginny replied off-handily, “he’s okay. Didn’t really do much, just watched that stupid game he likes.”

“Oh, right,” Hermione nodded with understanding, “the football premiership’s started.”

“Yeah, something like that,” Ginny confirmed, “what about you, been up to much?”

“Not really,” Hermione answered truthfully, “Harry and Ron started this huge conversation about some Quidditch world cup game. I gave up after a while and came up here.”

“You okay?” Ginny asked with a frown, looking over at Hermione, who turned away quickly, “you look upset.”

“I’m fine,” Hermione hastily replied, “just thinking about…”

“Harry,” Ginny finished off with a smile.

“What makes you think I was thinking about Harry?” Hermione questioned, turning back to her friend.

“Because you’re always thinking about Harry,” Ginny answered matter-of-factly, “that’s what you do. What’s up?”

“Nothing.”

“Right.”

Hermione lay back onto her back and let the silence hang between her and Ginny, trying to stop her wildly beating heart getting out of control. She knew Ginny was frustrated that she was kept out of the ‘information’ loop, her short response confirming that, but that wasn’t the reason Hermione had suddenly become nervous – she had a feeling the conversation was going to get a whole lot more personal. And it did.

“Hermione, do you fancy Harry?” Ginny blurted out, breaking the silence.

“Harry and I are just friends,” Hermione answered automatically, still staring at the ceiling.

“That wasn’t my question,” Ginny persevered, “I asked if you fancied him, not if you were a couple. So…do you?”

“What makes you think I fancy Harry?” Hermione asked tentatively.

“The way that you look at him,” Ginny replied, “especially lately. Not to say there isn’t something to look at, he is definitely turned into a good looking bloke.”

Hermione stayed silent, not trusting herself to look at Ginny.

“Can I be totally honest with you Hermione?” Ginny continued on, filling in the silence.

“Sure,” Hermione said, inwardly cringing as she did so, knowing that whatever Ginny was going to say wasn’t going to be good.

“You and Harry,” Ginny started – Hermione closed her eyes and fought back her tears that were never far away, “I mean, you are fantastic friends, the best. But I just can’t see Harry falling for you.”

“Oh…”

“It’s just that, you don’t seem his type…”

“Type?”

“He seems to like athletic girls, you know? Girls that like Quidditch, that can keep up with him. And he seems to like girls who are, well, attractive…”

“He told me he thought I was pretty,” Hermione whispered without really thinking, remembering back to their conversation after his fight with Cho, realising he didn’t actually say she was pretty, just that he didn’t think she was ugly. Cho, on the other hand, had been stunning.

“Oh, Hermione, you are!” Ginny exclaimed, sitting upright and facing the still lying Hermione, “but, I don’t know…he seems to go for…”

“…girls not like me,” Hermione sighed, “I get it.”

“I’m so sorry Hermione,” Ginny said softly, “I know it’s hard to hear, but I just didn’t want you to get your hopes up just to have them crushed…”

“That’s okay,” Hermione shrugged before adding quietly, “it doesn’t matter.”

“Ron, however, I think he’s more your type,” Ginny continued brightly.

“Ron?” Hermione repeated, frowning, finally looking at her friend, “but he and I fight all the time!”

“He really likes you, you know,” Ginny said with a smile, “he just doesn’t know how to tell you.”

“I…I thought he may like me,” Hermione acknowledged slowly, her mind in turmoil – she didn’t want Ron, she wanted Harry.

“Well, he does,” Ginny smiled broadly, “and I think you two are well suited. Not to sound horrible, but let’s face it, boys aren’t exactly crying out to be your boyfriend now are they? And Ron – we already know he likes you, and you’re already friends. It’s perfect!”

Boys aren’t exactly crying out to be your boyfriend now are they?

Hermione felt like bursting into tears but was determined not to show Ginny how her words hurt. She knew her friend was just trying to help and besides, what she was saying was true – Hermione was nearly seventeen years old and really only one boy had been attracted to her, and she and Viktor never even kissed!

Ron, however, was a safe bet and although at times he drove her insane, she did like him. He was funny and cute, in a freckly sort of way. She may need to try and not be so smart in front of him, or talk to any other boys when he’s around – but she could try and change so they wouldn’t fight as much. At least she’d have someone. At least she wouldn’t be alone. And she could talk to Ron about Harry and how they could help him.

Harry.

Hermione closed her eyes and thought about her other best friend. Ginny was right about that too, the girls he was attracted to were nothing like her – she had no chance. She needed to stop deluding herself and let the idea of her and Harry go; it was a nice dream, but only a dream.

Sighing, she realised what she was going to do. She would try and forget about Harry in any sort of romantic sense and instead change so Ron wouldn’t be so threatened and ask her out. It was the logical choice and although she could feel her heart breaking, she knew it was the right choice.

“I guess you’re right,” she acknowledged, “me and Ron, huh?”

“Just think about it,” Ginny carried on, standing up from the bed she had been lounging on, “dinner will be soon so I better go and check on mum and Phlegm. See you downstairs?”

“Yeah, I’ll be there in a minute,” Hermione smiled stiffly, sitting upright.

Hermione watched as Ginny sauntered out of the room, her hair swaying perfectly down her back. She absently ran a hand through the mess that was her own hair and sighed again. Returning to her place at the window, she thought about what had just been said and realised that she had to make some tough choices.

Harry could never know how she had felt, her attitude towards him couldn’t change. She had to be there for him, help him as much as she could to get him through the horrid things that were sure to come his way. She had to remain his friend, no matter how much it hurt.

And Ron. She would try and understand him better, try and show him that she would make a good girlfriend if only he asked. It could work, her and Ron, she just needed to change and try harder.

Hermione sighed. It was going to be a rough year.

Ginny felt a bit guilty as she walked down the stairs – after all, Hermione was her friend and it had been Hermione’s advice to act normally around Harry if she ever wanted to attract him; a piece of advice which seemed to be working. She had already noticed that Harry was more attentive to her this summer, that he had been staring at her on more than one occasion and seemed to like her company. Ginny smiled to herself. Although she technically was with Dean, Harry was the boy she really wanted and if this ‘playing hard to get’ worked, then all the better.

A girl’s got to do what a girl’s got to do.

But Ginny wasn’t stupid and knew Harry and Hermione were exceptionally close, that they understood each other better than anyone else. She had also seen Harry looking at Hermione this summer as well, and that yet again Hermione was privy to Harry’s secrets where Ginny was excluded. She knew if she wanted a chance with Harry, she had to weaken his relationship with Hermione, it was the only way.

Hence the talk.

She could justify it easily, that everything she had said was technically true. Except she knew, in the back of her mind, that Hermione actually did have a chance with Harry Potter and that chance needed to be eliminated. Again, Ginny smiled to herself, convinced she had been able to do just that.

After all, a girl’s got to do what a girl’s got to do.

Pausing, she looked down on Ron and Harry, still deep in discussion about one thing or the other. Harry’s back was towards her, allowing her the opportunity to admire the way his shoulders had broadened, and the way his messy hair sat on his collar. She smiled more broadly, thinking, not for the first time, how perfect they would look together – Harry Potter and Ginny Weasley. And if Ron and Hermione became a couple, they would complete the Weasley family – it would all be fantastic.

One big happy Weasley family – the way it should be.

A/N2 – Now, before anyone gets all upset, this is a H/Hr story and will end that way, I promise! See why I couldn’t leave it as a one-shot? You guys would’ve killed me!

A/N – PLEASE READ otherwise you’ll get a bit confused. Originally this was going to be two one-shots, until I thought that chapter one (Talking with Ginny) isn’t very H/Hr, so it all became one story and grown into three chapters. Which is why, this chapter is a year and a bit after the first chapter and seen from Harry’s perspective, not Hermione’s. So note – this is after Dumbledore’s death, after Harry and Ginny had dated and the whole HBP thing has happened. And since this chapter just grew and grew, I’ve split it up with the next chapter continuing on, time wise and perspective wise, to this one. Does that all make sense? I hope so. Anyway – I hope you enjoy. And thank you for your lovely reviews to the first chapter. You guys all rock.

Breaking Up

It was with a bit more than a little concern that Harry entered the library in search for his friend. It was the third time Hermione had missed dinner and it was a habit he was finding slightly disturbing. It didn’t take him long to see her, hunched over a book and a pile of parchment, scribbling madly. He frowned as he watched her before taking a deep breath, putting a smile on his face and making his way to her table.

“Hey Hermione,” he said happily as he sat down next to her, “watcha reading?”

“H…Harry,” she stuttered, looking at him with shock, “what are you doing here? Shouldn’t you be at dinner?”

“Yep, and so should you,” he replied, trying to see what she was studying so intently at the same time she tried to hide the text from him, “so I came looking for you. Watcha reading?”

“Nothing,” she shot back at him, frantically trying to hide her book but not before Harry saw the flying figures of Quidditch players move past her spread fingers.

“Quidditch?” he exclaimed, grabbing the book from her now limp hands, “you’re reading a book on Quidditch?”

“I just thought…”

“ ‘Chudley Cannons – An Illustrated History’,” Harry recited with a frown, “and you’re taking notes?”

“There’s nothing wrong with expanding my knowledge base,” she snapped as she snatched the book back, reopened it to her place and began to read once more. Harry sighed.

“What’s going on, Hermione?” he asked softly.

“Nothing.”

“Is this to do with the fight you and Ron had yesterday?” he continued to probe, breathing deeply when he watched her eyes pause on their journey across the page and begin to tear.

He leaned back in his chair and ran a hand through his hair. Ron and Hermione were attempting to date – and Harry was seeing it as only an attempt because he couldn’t see a lot of actual dating going on. Sure, in the beginning there had been secret looks and smiles between them that they thought he never noticed, but that was over three months ago.

And sure, he had been so lost in his own private nightmare with the loss of Professor Dumbledore and his own break-up with Ginny that he really hadn’t cared too much about his two friends getting together.

Until Bill and Fleur’s wedding.

Ron and Hermione kept to their word and stayed with him at the Dursley’s until Harry’s birthday where they shifted to Grimmauld Place. Harry knew that he had changed, that he had hardened in a way that he thought was necessary and that it was his only way of coping. Hermione had tried to make him feel better and at times she succeeded, bringing him back to normality with a pleasant thump. Her relationship with Ron was simmering in the background but neither of his friends showed any sign while they were around Harry.

Until Bill and Fleur’s wedding.

He had gone to the Burrow with more than a little trepidation, and when Ginny had pulled him aside after the ceremony asking why Ron and Hermione could join him on his ‘quest’ but she couldn’t, Harry didn’t think his day could get any worse. He had pushed Ginny away, giving the same reasoning as he did at Dumbledore’s funeral though even in his own mind, he knew it was a feeble excuse.

Harry initially had no idea why he continued to say no to Ginny. He, Ron and Hermione had already made the decision to return to Hogwarts when it re-opened in a week (its security and library the main motivators) which meant that there was more than ample opportunity to continue his relationship with her. Yet he didn’t want to.

It wasn’t until he saw Ron and Hermione dancing, saw her laughing at something Ron said, saw her pressed up close to his friend, that he understood. It was at that moment that Harry felt jealous. It was at that moment that he knew that it should be him with Hermione, not Ron. It was that moment he knew that Hermione meant more to him than Ginny could – that any girl could – and he was too late. Hermione had chosen Ron.

They had let Harry know of the change in their relationship the next day – Ron doing most of the talking while Hermione kept her eyes downcast, never once looking at Harry. Harry had said all the right things; that it was great, that it was about time and that they shouldn’t worry about him, he’ll be fine.

Which he was – on the outside. They never flaunted their relationship in front of him, not even holding hands when the three of them were together. Ron never talked to Harry about what was going on while Hermione, though still supportive and friendly, had backed away from him slightly. Harry tried to act like nothing was different, not acting disappointed when they had plans that only included them, encouraging them to be more affectionate to each other – because he was fine.

But he wasn’t fine. He missed Dumbledore terribly and the feeling he was alone was sometimes consuming. Ginny continued her own ‘quest’ to get Harry back while the search for the Horcruxes proved to be both frustrating and demanding. There was no Quidditch, not that he had time to play anyway, and Hogwarts just wasn’t the same without Dumbledore within its walls – the atmosphere was one of sadness mixed with the hard, cold knowledge they were at war and were preparing for the battle of their lives.

And he missed Hermione. He missed her being there, just for him, how she would make sure he was alright before checking on anyone else. How she seemed to understand what he was thinking without him saying it. How she was always just there. He knew that was selfish, that he had never given her any indication that he thought of her as anything more than just a friend. That he had taken her for granted and had now paid the price. He vowed that he’d never take her for granted ever again.

So he had ignored Ron’s angry stare when Harry had hugged her after she had worked out where the first Horcrux was, Slytherin’s locket (under their noses but hidden away by Kreacher in the bowels of Grimmauld Place) and had started to thank her when she spent hours researching. At first there had been looks of surprise from Hermione, making Harry feel even more guilty as he realised such simple acts of gratitude were something so rare from him that they were unexpected. But he could see that she really appreciated his thanks and sometimes gave him a beautiful smile in return.

A smile that would make his heart break all over again.

One of the most disconcerting things for Harry and his friend’s relationship, however, was the initial lack of arguing between the newly formed pair. This was more on the conscious effort of Hermione than a new found understanding on Ron’s part – Harry had seen on more than one occasion Hermione biting her tongue and let one of Ron’s comments go. It annoyed Harry no end; Hermione’s strength of character to stand up for herself was one of the many fantastic traits he had come to admire about his friend. Knowing she was trying to quell that part of her seemed unnecessary.

Lately though, the bickering had begun once more. In fact it had been going on for a while now with the arguments getting more and more personal. What was more disturbing was how often Ron would go to Luna afterwards, having found the Ravenclaw someone he was comfortable talking to. Harry had confronted Ron about Luna and what going on between them. Ron assured him they were only friends and it was no different than when Hermione came to Harry for comfort after one of the now regular rows.

It was that thought that concerned Harry the most. Because he knew that he treasured the moments when Hermione turned to him and that he welcomed the opportunity to hold her in his arms without the worry that it would be misconstrued as wrong. If Luna and Ron were the same, then they were all in trouble.

But Hermione didn’t always turn to Harry for help. In fact, she tried to work things out on her own, seemingly determined to keep her relationship with Ron separate from her relationship with Harry. So Harry watched and watched with interest. He saw her hurt every time Ron had a go and saw that she really wasn’t going to be able to take much more. He tried to help, but she wouldn’t let him so he had to stand back and watch his friends self-destruct slowly and painfully.

Which brought him to now, to Hermione reading a book on the Chudley Cannons because Ron had accused her on not trying to understand him, that she just expected him to know what she meant when she talked about one thing or another but had never even tried to understand Quidditch. Harry knew it was untrue, that Hermione knew enough about the sport to get by and she never expected anyone to understand the wonder that was her mind. But Ron wouldn’t listen and Hermione had already relented and was now studying Quidditch when she should be eating.

“It doesn’t matter,” she finally replied, having got herself under control, “besides, he was right…”

“You don’t need to do this…” Harry interrupted.

“Yes I do,” Hermione angrily retorted, turning to him her eyes blazing underneath their sheen of moisture, “boys like sporty girls and if you haven’t noticed, sport isn’t one of my fortes. If I want to keep Ron, I need to do this! Not all of us are blessed and perfect like Ginny!”

With that she quickly gathered all her stuff together and stormed out of the library, leaving a slightly confused Harry in her wake.

Perfect like Ginny, he thought with a shake of his head, Ginny’s not perfect. You are.

But she will never know that, not while she’s with Ron anyhow (compliments don’t seem to be his forte). Sighing, Harry left the library and made his way to the kitchen, hoping Dobby will be able to make him something to eat.

The following morning Harry arrived at breakfast amongst talk of a friendly Quidditch match with Ravenclaw. The official games had been cancelled due to security risks but it seemed the need to play outweighed the dangers.

“So, whatcha think Harry?” Ron asked excitedly as Harry sat and reached for the pumpkin juice.

“Count me out,” he replied with a frown, “I’ve got too much to do – as do you Ron. Besides, McGonagall banned Quidditch for a reason, I don’t think…”

“You have to play!” Ginny exclaimed from her seat at his side, “we don’t have a team if you aren’t the seeker!”

“Well, I’m afraid you don’t have a team then,” Harry carried on, buttering his toast, “because I’m not playing.”

“Playing what?”

Everyone looked at Hermione as she sat down next to Ron, casually pouring herself some pumpkin juice. Harry saw that she looked exhausted and frowned.

“Nothing,” Ron said a little too quickly, making Hermione look at him with concern.

“What’s going on Ron?” she asked a bit more forcibly, glancing between her boyfriend and his sister when she saw them exchange looks.

“Er…nothing, nothing really,” Ron managed to stammer out, “we were just thinking of having a…a chess tournament and Harry said he wasn’t going to play. To scared of loosing.”

Hermione stared at Ron before looking at Ginny and then Harry. Harry couldn’t hold her gaze and quickly looked back at his breakfast, suddenly finding his bacon and eggs very interesting.

“Don’t lie to me,” he heard Hermione growl, making him look up once more in time to see Ron’s ears turn a lovely shade of red (never a good sign) and Hermione scowl in anger.

“What makes you think I’m lying to you?” Ron asks harshly.

“Because I know you Ron Weasley, and I know when you’re lying.”

“No, you assume that I’m lying,” Ron spat back, “you don’t trust me, you never have!”

“That’s unfair!”

“But it’s true!” he retorted, facing her, “and you know something? I am lying! I’m lying ‘cause I know if I told you the truth, you’d give me this lecture that would go on for hours and ruin everything!”

“So let me get this straight,” Hermione hissed, “you’re mad at me for accusing you of lying, when you actually are lying? I don’t believe this…”

“Why not? You never believe anything I say so why is this any different?”

The table went deathly silent as Hermione glared at Ron, but bit her tongue. Soon normal breakfast noises resumed as the couple’s classmates steadily ignored the warring pair. Harry watched as Hermione took a deep, calming breath though her cheeks remained flushed and her hands shook with anger.

“What is it that you’re going to play?” she asked, biting out every word.

“Quidditch,” Ron answered defiantly, “and I know all your arguments – that we have research to do, that Quidditch is banned, that we could have some ‘quality time’ – but I don’t care. We’ve been stuck in that library for months and I want a day off!”

“You want to play Quidditch,” she growled, “a game that has been banned due to the war and concern about the safety of players…”

“We’ll be perfectly safe,” Ginny put in, the only other person other than Harry still paying attention.

“And you’re willing to guarantee that Ginny?” Hermione spat at her, turning to her, eyes blazing, “are you willing to put all your team mate’s lives in danger just because of a stupid game!”

“Aren’t you being slightly over dramatic Hermione?” Ginny sneered, “we’re in Hogwarts, it’s perfectly safe…”

“Just like last year?” Hermione practically screamed, “don’t you get it? Nowhere is safe any more! We have rules that are there to protect us and this time you won’t just get detention if you break them – you could get yourself killed!”

“Give it rest Herms,” Ron started – Hermione turned to him, making him actually cringe.

“What did you call me?” she growled.

“You heard.”

It was like watching a train wreck, Harry knew what was coming, knew it was going to be bad – but he couldn’t look away. He could see Hermione fighting for control while Ron sat and waited as if he wanted her to loose it.

But she didn’t. Instead she just stood and looked down at him.

“I can’t do this anymore Ron,” she said with a resigned weariness, “you win.”

With that, Hermione turned on her heel and left the Great Hall, with nearly everyone watching. As soon as she was out of sight, Harry angrily turned to Ron, who sat slumped opposite him.

“What the bloody hell was that all about?” he demanded; Ron just seemed to slump further.

“Leave it Harry,” Ron muttered sadly, “this has nothing to do with you.”

“Like hell it’s got nothing to do with me!” Harry gritted out, leaning over his forgotten breakfast and glaring at Ron, “you’ve just accused Hermione over a bunch of bollocks like it was some type of sport! You were totally out of order!”

“I know,” Ron agreed as he looked up at Harry, his eyes swimming with unshed tears, “can you go to her Harry, make sure she’s alright?”

“You want me to go to her?” Harry repeated, startled by Ron’s request.

“Yeah, and make sure she’s okay,” Ron carried on.

“Hermione will be fine,” Ginny cut in glancing between Harry and her brother, “she just needs to cool down, think things through…”

“No Ginny, she needs Harry,” Ron sighed, standing and looking back to Harry, “will you go and find her?”

“Sure,” Harry answered, standing also and steadfastly ignoring the scowling Ginny at his side. Ron nodded his acknowledgement before ambling out of the Hall. Harry went to follow but found himself held back by Ginny’s small hand on his arm.

“Why don’t you let me have a word with her,” the redhead purred, “girl to girl.”

Harry looked down at his ex-girlfriend and frowned. He knew she and Hermione hadn’t really been getting on for a while now, that although they were polite to each other, they weren’t close and that Ginny was probably the last person Hermione would want to see about now. Besides, it was his job to help Hermione out.

“I don’t think so Gin,” Harry told her with a hint of a smile as he tried to step past her – but was once more halted as she manoeuvred her way in front of him.

“Why are you always running off after her,” Ginny angrily whispered, all pretence of nicety gone, “anyone would think you fancy her or something!”

Harry nearly bit back but decided why bother. Instead, he just gave Ginny a last look of disgust then hurried out of the Hall to find Hermione.

He knew she would head for the lake, even though it was close to snow and no-one bar Hagrid would venture outside. Sure enough, there were a set of footprints marking the frosty ground, leading out of the main doors and down to the lake. Harry began to run so he could catch up, trying hard to ignore the biting wind that snuck through his cloak.

He spotted her lone figure just ahead of him, her hair being wiped around by the breeze as her head was bent downwards.

“Hermione!” he called out as he came to her side.

“Go away Harry,” she told him as she carried on walking,

“Hermione, please,” he continued, not failing to see her tears or the fact she was feeling the cold, “all I want to do is help…”

“Well you can’t help me this time!” she fired at him, turning to him with such venom Harry stopped and took a step back, “unless you can make me beautiful and more attractive to boys, there’s nothing you can do!”

With that, she turned on her heel and carried on storming away.

“I think you’re beautiful.”

The words left his mouth before he really realised what he had said. He watched as she stopped mid stride as everything around her seemed to still – even her hair lay momentarily undisturbed down her back.

But nothing about Harry was still. His heart was beating a million times a minute while a stream of swear words continually through his brain as he cursed himself for his stupidity. He thought about running away and just leaving her there, that her fight with Ron will make her forget his stupid comment. But he was trapped, stunned as good as any spell. He needed to see her reaction.

Hermione slowly turned around, her shock evident on her face. She took a few steps towards him, allowing him to see that a new lot of tears pooled in her eyes. Harry was nervous.

“Wh…what did you say?” she asked tentatively.

“I…er,” Harry stammered out, madly thinking of a way to make things right, “um…you must be freezing! Here, take my cloak.”

He quickly unfastened his cloak and draped it over her shoulders, making sure he didn’t touch her in any way. Hermione just stood there and accepted the cloak wordlessly, still staring at him as if he was one of her puzzles to solve.

Harry, however, suddenly realised just how cold it was as he wrapped his arms around himself in an attempt to stay warm.

“What did you say Harry?” Hermione asked again, this time her voice soft and a little bit scared.

“I said that I thought you were beautiful, because you are,” Harry replied with a bit more confidence, the tone in her voice letting him know that he needed to tell her the truth.

She didn’t say anything and instead just stood there looking at him. He could tell she was thinking and when she dropped her gaze to a spot on the ground, her brow pulled into a frown, he knew she was thinking hard. But he was freezing now and needed to get somewhere a bit warmer.

“Hermione?” he ventured, ready to suggest they head back into the castle but when she looked back at him, her tears now falling, he realised that he may have made a huge mistake. She stared at him for a moment before turning and running quickly away. He went to chase after her, to do the job that he had come out here to do, but instead he just watched her go knowing that maybe this time it was his fault she was upset.

With a heavy heart, Harry made his way back into the castle, quickly warming himself with a charm before making his way slowly to the Research Room. Professor McGonagall had allocated a room to the trio so they could research the Horcruxes without disturbance, with it charmed so only Harry, Ron or Hermione could enter.

Harry entered it now and slumped dejectedly onto one of the large armchairs that faced the stoked fire. What a morning, and it wasn’t even nine o’clock! Harry wondered if anything would ever be the same again, whether the friendship between Ron and Hermione would ever be able to overcome the failure of their romantic relationship. And if they couldn’t, would he have to choose between his two best friends.

And he needed them – not just because they were his friends but because he knew he couldn’t defeat Voldemort without them. Without both Ron and Hermione by his side, there was even a lesser chance of him winning.

Harry sighed. What was going to happen now? Had he messed it up with Hermione with his ‘I think you’re beautiful’ comment? Even though it was true, he did think she was the prettiest girl in Hogwarts, telling her straight after she had a huge fight with her boyfriend wasn’t the greatest of moves. Groaning to himself, he stayed there for a few moments longer, going over everything in his head before dragging himself to the work table and attempting to continue on with their research.

By the time Harry went to bed, not a lot of researching actually got done. Nor had he seen either Ron or Hermione all day but Seamus had seen them go to the Room of Requirement together, doing goodness knows what (but the idea they had spent all day making up was just a little too much for Harry to handle).

He was still awake when he heard Ron finally return to the dorm although it was close to midnight.

“Harry,” Ron whispered loudly, just making himself heard above the other boys snores, “are you still awake?”

Breathing deeply and wondering what was going to happen next, Harry let out a hesitant,

“Yeah.”

Pulling open the curtains around Harry’s bed, Ron’s face peeked through looking tired but otherwise quite relaxed.

“I thought you would be,” the redhead said with a smirk, sitting down on the edge of Harry’s bed.

“You okay?” Harry asked, pulling himself upright, allowing Ron more room to get comfortable, then grabbed his glasses, “I got a bit worried when I didn’t see you for dinner.”

“We got Dobby to get us something to eat,” Ron explained, “hey, can I have a word?”

“Sure,” Harry answered quickly then waited as Ron cast a muffiliato, just in case (Harry guessed) any of their room mates were feigning sleep.

“Hermione and I broke up,” Ron stated calmly, his words sinking into Harry stunned brain.

“You…you broke up?” Harry repeated dumbly.

“Yeah,” Ron shrugged, “should’ve done it months ago, would’ve saved all this bother.”

“Months ago,” Harry frowned, “but you guys have only been together for a couple of months.”

“Nearly four, actually,” Ron corrected, “thing is, today was the first real talk we’ve ever had. Well, after I got over my ‘immature pouting and posturing’ (I think she called it) then we had a really good chat.”

“Really?”

“Yeah,” Ron carried on, “we kinda had to, you know, get stuff sorted, otherwise it would’ve been hard to stay friends…”

“And did you?” Harry interrupted, “get things sorted, I mean. Are…are you both still friends?”

“Believe it or not, we are,” Ron grinned, “she let me rant for a while then told me to get my head out of my bum and tell her the truth, which I did. I dunno what you said to her after breakfast mate, but whatever it was, it worked.”

“I…I didn’t say anything…”

“Anyway, I told her that the reason I’d been so horrid was because I didn’t have the courage to actually break up with her, so I thought that if I was bad enough, she’d break up with me…”

“That’s stupid,” Harry interrupted with a frown.

“I know,” Ron chuckled warily, “but you know me and girls – I’m not the sharpest crayon in the box. And in a way, it worked. She was so mad with me today that she felt she had no other choice. Then you spoke to her and instead of hating me, she seemed to understand me a bit better. She even suggested that I try my luck with Luna and that she thought Luna and I are well suited…”

“She did what?”

“Can you believe it?” Ron carried on, openly smiling at Harry’s shock, “and then she explained to me why she acts like she does and why she agreed to go out with me in the first place. I must admit, I got a bit…tetchy, I guess. But we talked it through so I see why now and it turns out we’re both pretty pathetic really.”

“Pathetic?”

“Yeah,” Ron chuckled softly, “you see, Harry, I wanted to go out with Hermione because she was the first girl that ever really paid any attention to me. She was there, you know? And then when we actually started the whole dating thing, it wasn’t as perfect as I had imagined – she still annoyed the shite out of me and I still annoyed the shite out of her. Meantime, she went out with me because she knew I fancied her and she thought no other bloke ever would so she settled for me.”

“No one else would like her?” Harry repeated with a frown, “but that’s just…”

“…mental,” Ron completed with a shrug, “I know, that’s what I said. I told her I knew of blokes right now who fancy her, which she didn’t believe at first…”

“You…you know…of…” Harry tried to stammer out, his heart beat extremely quickly as he tried to pick up enough courage to ask exactly who Ron knew liked Hermione at the same time as plotting the unwelcome suitor’s demise.

“Yeah,” Ron interrupted, smirking, “you.”

“Me?”

“Yes you,” came the reply, “I’ve seen how you look at her Harry, how you always make sure she’s okay, how you tried so hard to give us a chance even though you really didn’t want to.”

“Ron, I…” Harry began to explain, ready to deny everything.

“It’s okay,” Ron interrupted with a grin and a shrug, “I mean, it’ll be a bit weird at first but it’s like you two are going out together already and as long as you don’t snog in front of me, I’ll be fine,” pausing, he stood and looked down at the flustered Harry, “thing is, I realise that she’s really just a friend, a sister, like Ginny. Which means you need to know that if you hurt Hermione in any way, hero or not, I’ll hurt you – do you understand?”

“Er…I guess,” Harry replied cautiously, still stuck on the fact Ron had just pretty much given him permission to go out with Hermione.

“Good,” Ron nodded seriously, “right, I’m off, its been a long day. ‘Night Harry.”

“Yeah, ‘night Ron,” Harry said, barely aware that Ron was walking over to his own bed, his mind still going over what his friend had said. Ron and Hermione have broken up. Hermione knows Harry fancies her, thanks to Ron. And Ron has said it was fine for Harry to go out with Hermione.

With a start, Harry looked over at Ron, who was just about to get into bed, and felt that he should say something, something important, something profound.

“Ron,” he called out, making Ron pause and look over in his direction.

“Yeah?”

“Thanks.”

Ron just nodded and smiled before continuing into his bed and lying down. Harry took off his glasses before lying down himself and for the first time in a very long while, Voldemort and Horcruxes weren’t his major concern – what would happen next between himself and Hermione overpowered all other thoughts.

A/N – sorry for the delay but, well, there has been issues. I hope you enjoy this though it may not be what everyone is hoping for…

Thank you for your patience. Oh, and thank you all for you lovely comments for the last chapters, I really appreciate them all and wish I had the time to reply. So, thanks.

The Art of Talking

Breakfast the following day was bizarre – there was no other way Harry could describe it. Ron and Hermione were exceptionally polite to each other even with Ron continually glancing over to the Ravenclaw table. Meanwhile, Harry found himself tongue-tied every time he looked at Hermione, studiously ignoring the rest of the Gryffindor’s who were watching on curiously.

Harry spent most of the time thinking about what he was going to do, knowing that he should talk to Hermione, bring things out in the open – but his Gryffindor courage had abandoned him.

Ginny wasn’t helping matters either by attempting once more to get Harry’s attention, making him feel exceptionally uncomfortable as she flirted mercilessly with him, seemingly never giving up.

When breakfast thankfully finished, they all went their separate ways – Ron was going to the library, Hermione back to Grimmauld Place to look at some of the books there while Harry was due in the Research Room.

Shaking off the very persistent Ginny, Harry trudged the familiar route to the warded classroom, trying desperately to ready himself for another Sunday of reading and researching. Like Ron, he was getting pretty fed up with being stuck in a library somewhere and read, but unlike Ron, he suffered in silence.

Sighing heavily, Harry shut the door and leaned back onto it. Of course, boredom wasn’t the main reason he didn’t want to be alone in a room of books; he knew his brain would be very hard to focus this Sunday morning. He had had little sleep and the knowledge that Hermione knows he likes her continued to invade his thoughts at every available opportunity.

And Hermione and Ron have broken up.

Picking up the book he had been trying to read the day before, he made his way to his chair and fell into it with a weary humph. With parchment and quill at the low table in front of him, he opened the book and tried to do what he needed to do while ignoring the image of Hermione’s face when he told her he thought she was beautiful that kept forming on the page. Or the way he had palpitations every time he thought of his conversation with Ron. Shaking his head every now and then in a feeble attempt to get his attention back to the information before him, he tried very, very hard to concentrate.

Which is why he didn’t hear Hermione enter the room.

“Hi Harry.”

He jumped up so quickly that the book he was reading fell unceremoniously to the ground. Blushing, he picked it up book as fast as he could and held onto it tightly, feeling guilty for many things but the foremost being the knowledge that Hermione would be unimpressed with him damaging a defenceless tome.

“Hermione,” he sputtered, “you’re back early.”

“I found what I was looking for so I thought I might as well come back,” she replied as she made her way towards him and her chair, which sat on the other side of the coffee table in front of Harry, “besides, I was hoping we could have a chat.”

“Oh.”

He really didn’t know what else to say as his mind had gone blank with nervousness. She was going to talk about what Ron had mentioned and Harry was petrified. He felt a bit better seeing that Hermione also looked flustered as she sat down and placed her books on the floor beside her chair. Harry copied her, but made sure his eyes never caught hers as he perched stiffly on the edge of his seat.

“I guess Ron has told you he and I broke up last night,” she started with resolved assertiveness – Harry chanced glancing up at her, dropping his gaze immediately when she looked defiantly back at him.

“Er…yeah,” Harry stammered, painfully aware of how stupid he must be sounding and how incredibly stupidly he was acting.

This is Hermione for Merlin’s sake, he thought furiously to himself, your best friend! Stop acting like a prize git!

“I’m really sorry,” he carried on, this time with a bit more confidence, “about you and Ron, I mean.”

Hermione looked at him curiously, a small smile playing on her lips.

“Don’t be,” she said with a shrug, “our relationship should never have happened, we both realise that now. I should never have agreed to go out with him.”

“Why did you then?”

The words were out of his mouth before he could stop them, making him cringe inwardly at his thoughtlessness. Hermione looked at him, frowning slightly, before looking down at her hands, obviously thinking about her reply. Harry wanted to tell her desperately that she didn’t need to answer, that it was okay – he didn’t need to know. But he stayed silent as a part of him wanted to know the answer. After a few moments, she looked back up at him and smiled sadly.

“Because I knew Ron fancied me on some strange level,” Hermione said quietly, her voice thick with emotion, “and the boy that I liked, well, I was told he’d never fancy someone like me, that I wasn’t his type. I was told I should try my luck with Ron instead because he was a sure thing and there was a good chance I wouldn’t attract anyone else. Stupid thing was, I believed her…”

“I still don’t understand why you’d think that,” Harry uttered quietly.

“Why shouldn’t I?” Hermione carried on with a resigned shrug, “I know I’m not like other girls, and that boys don’t find me attractive. Everything she said was true.”

Hermione paused, giving Harry time to think about what she had said. She liked someone who hadn’t liked her back – that thought alone igniting a flicker of hope she meant him, knowing he hadn’t been that perceptive when it came to how he felt about her for such a long time.

But if it was him, then she thought she wasn’t his ‘type’. He actually wasn’t aware he had a ‘type’ considering he had only really gone out with Ginny (he didn’t count Cho since the whole thing had been such a disaster). And the idea that someone else was determining the ‘type’ of girl he was attracted to was slightly disconcerting.

Frowning, he wondered who had said these things to Hermione, who had gone out of their way to make her feel like she was second rate. His first thought was of Ron as he had been so horrid to her lately, but Hermione had said ‘she’. Lavender and Parvati were the next possibilities and although he surmised that Lavender had the right to be jealous of Hermione, what with her failed relationship with Ron (who then went out with Hermione), he couldn’t see Hermione taking anything her dorm mate said too seriously.

The next possibility was Ginny. He knew the two girls were friends (though that did seem to get a bit shaky when Ginny and him started to date) and they may have chatted about this type of stuff. But would Ginny tell Hermione she wouldn’t attract boys? That Hermione wasn’t his type? That Hermione would be fine with Ron? Harry’s frown deepened – yes, Ginny would.

“The little cow,” Harry growled, things furiously clicking into place in his brain, “it was Ginny who told you all this…” he waved his hands around as he searched for a word that conveyed the anger he felt without being too vulgar, “rubbish! Yesterday, when you said that you couldn’t be perfect, like Ginny, it was because she told you that…the little cow!”

“Don’t be too hard on her Harry,” Hermione tried to soothe, but he hardly heard her as he stood and began pacing, thinking about…everything.

“I thought you two were friends,” he raved, “she said you gave her advice on how to…” pausing as he thought about the conversation at Dumbledore’s funeral, he scowled once more, “yet she said that stuff to you! That you couldn’t attract anyone!”

“Everything she said to me was true,” Hermione said again, still sitting in her seat as she watched the pacing Harry, “she was just stating facts. And I had no reason to doubt her – by that stage I had had one kiss. It was all rather pathetic.”

“So had I!” Harry cried, facing her, “and Ron, well, he hadn’t…”

“It’s different for boys, I think,” Hermione interrupted somewhat wistfully, her calmness stopping Harry in his tracks, deflating his annoyance somewhat, “besides, I had Ginny, Lavender and Parvati constantly talking about who they had been with, who they’d like to be with, gossiping, making me feel like a alien because I didn’t care about who was caught snogging who. Sometimes I really just didn’t want to go to my dorm.”

“We didn’t really talk much about girls,” Harry admitted with a resigned sigh, flopping back down in his chair, “in my dorm it was mainly Quidditch and school.”

“Well, that surprises me,” Hermione smiled, “from what I read, girls were the main thing teenage boys thought about!”

“Oh, there’s thinking going on,” Harry smirked, “but not a lot of talking.”

“It was the opposite for me,” Hermione sighed, “a lot of talking and not much thinking. Girls can be so silly sometimes.”

“Even you?”

“Even me,” Hermione sighed again, “last year, I was so stupid what with one thing or another. I still can’t believe I agreed to go out with Cormac – ugh!”

“Not one of your better moves,” Harry chuckled.

“No, no it wasn’t,” she replied softly before taking a deep breath and looking at him, “but I had to do something. Ginny’s words had hurt and I could see you falling for her which made me realise that perhaps she didn’t have my best intentions at heart when she gave me her advice, that she had lied to me…”

“Lied?”

“Ginny had liked you for so long Harry,” Hermione explained quietly, “and I think she saw me as a threat. She said what she did so I would back away, not be the most dominate girl in your life…”

Harry once more thought about what Hermione had just said and frowned. Although he didn’t agree with what Ginny had done, she had been right. When he had tried things with Cho, the Ravenclaw had gotten jealous over his relationship with Hermione, and when he had had to make a choice, he had chosen his best friend.

Throughout his sixth year at Hogwarts, Hermione had been distant. Although she had still been there with him, helping him, she wasn’t there as much as she had been the year prior. Giving him the opportunity to turn his attention to Ginny. Yet for the important stuff – the Horcruxes, the prophecy – it had been Hermione he had turned to, not Ginny. Ginny had still come in second.

“When you two started dating, I was happy for you, I really was,” Hermione continued, “she made you smile and relax, something I could never do. I knew that I loved you but I also knew I had lost you. I thought you didn’t see me as a girl and that you never would. I would always be Hermione, your bookish best friend that nags you and tells you what to do and what not to do all the time. So when Ron got enough courage to ask me out, I said yes.”

She paused for a moment as she got her thoughts together and Harry let her, thinking about her words. He was still concentrating when she began to speak, her voice low and anxious.

“Then you started to be different around me; you thanked me, was more attentive. I was confused because I had finally given up on you, finally realised that Ginny was right – you would never be attracted to someone like me, the opposite in so many ways to the girls you liked.

“I had it all worked out; it wasn’t working with Ron no matter how much I tried so I needed to end it and just get used to the idea that I would be alone. I had it all planned until you went and told me that I was beautiful.”

She looked up at him then, her large eyes shinning with tears. He didn’t know what to say, only that it was true – but the words wouldn’t come.

“I had to get you to repeat it because it didn’t seem real,” she said, barely above a whisper, her eyes searching his, “and when you told me you thought I was beautiful again, I could see that you actually meant it. Ginny was wrong.”

“Ginny was wrong,” Harry repeated, dazed, but somewhere in the mess that was his brain, he realised that this conversation could possibly be the most important of his life and he needed to make sure he didn’t mess it up.

“With those few words you made me feel more special than Ron ever did in the four months we were together,” she continued, “I already knew I had to end it with Ron, finish what we both knew was a mistake and even if you and I never happened, it didn’t matter. We have always had something special and we always will…”

“What if we did happen?”

His words stopped her suddenly, her eyes widening in shock.

“Pardon?”

“Nothing,” he said quickly, ducking his head in the hope that she couldn’t see that he was lying. Hermione didn’t speak but instead made her way to him, moving aside the papers on the table before perching on its edge and sitting in front of him, taking his clammy, shaking hands in hers.

“Harry,” she began, “look at me.” With his heart thuddering in his chest, he raised his eyes and returned her gaze. She wanted answers to questions that hadn’t been asked but they both knew what they were and as Harry’s heart and head began to have their own personal battle inside him, he stumbled for something to say.

“Hermione, we can’t…” he ventured, his head winning the first fight.

“Don’t say we can’t try Harry,” she pleaded softly, “don’t say you and I won’t work because we both know that’s a lie. I know you so well and I can see in your face that you want to…”

“You’ll be in more danger,” Harry interrupted, “if Voldemort finds out you and I are together, he’ll target you…”

“I’m already a target, I’m already in danger,” she countered, “us being together won’t change that.”

“But…but,” he tried to vocalise his other arguments, “I won’t be able to like a proper boyfriend, you know, take you out and stuff! I can’t even promise you a future…”

“Don’t you dare Harry Potter,” she admonished sharply, fire lighting her eyes, “don’t you dare think you have no future! You will get through this challenge – I won’t let you die. And the other stuff? Honestly, you know that isn’t important to me. I have been dating Ron after all.”

“And that’s another thing,” Harry continued with a bit more confidence, “you and Ron. You’ve just broken up! He’s my best friend!”

“He thinks you and I should give it a go…”

“I know, I know! But you and him, you’ve liked each other for ages. It’s not like just switching a switch – one minute you like him and the next minute you like me…”

“Harry,” she cut in though all sharpness in her tone gone, “I still like Ron, that will never change. But I love you and I have done for so long now…”

“Lo…love?” he stammered, his beating heart increasing its tempo for a whole new reason. Hermione loves him? But no-one loves him…

“Yes Harry, love,” she explained even more softly, “you have had my heart for many years now and if anything, going out with Ron has shown me that really, no-one else ever will replace you. Even if you marry someone else and have twenty kids, I will still love you.”

Harry just stared at her blankly as he tried to process what she was telling him. She loved him, and has done for a while even when thinking that she didn’t have a chance of being chosen by him. She loved him when he had gone mental over Cho then Ginny, never once indicating that she was jealous or anything. She loved him even though she knew he was scared about fighting Lord Voldemort and that he relied on her, Ron and others to help him win – that he wasn’t the hero painted in the Prophet. She loved him.

“Harry?”

Her voice cut through his thoughts, making him refocus on her face. He was wondering if she’d be upset that he hadn’t said that he loved her back, that that’s what she would be expecting. But all he saw was the same Hermione that had always been there for him, concern showing in her eyes and slightly furrowed brow.

He knew he should say something, something profound, something that would cement the foundations of the relationship that he knew was forming. Everything was out in the open now – she knew he liked her and he knew she like him, no loved him. He needed to let her know that he agreed with her, that his arguments against their getting together had been weak so yes, they should give it a go. But his mind was blank as he stared into the eyes that were nearly as familiar to him as his own.

So he kissed her.

It wasn’t as romantic as he had sometimes pictured it – them coming together in a passionate embrace that led to so much more, the earth moving while fireworks exploded in the sky above. Instead their noses clashed and her shock of his actions caused her to lean back suddenly, making her slip unceremoniously off the table and onto the floor.

“Ow!” she cried out as her backside hit the floor rather heavily.

“Hermione!” Harry exclaimed as he quickly knelt down beside her with the notion of helping her back up, “are you alright?”

“You kissed me,” she stated, staring at him with disbelief, not moving.

“Er…yeah,” he said nervously, “um…”

But he didn’t get a chance to say anything else as she held his face between her hands and kissed him back. This time there was no clumsiness – just pure, fantastic snogging. Harry’s mind got stuck on the fact that this was Hermione and it was the best kissing he had ever experienced for just a moment before his hormones took over, telling him that he was definitely enjoying the experience.

Her hands were in his hair, eliciting amazing sensations throughout his body, while his hands found their way to her waist, pulling her in tightly towards him. Instincts had defiantly taken over as he manoeuvred her backwards so she was now lying on the floor with him hovering above her, still kissing her frantically. His hands began to explore as if they knew what they were doing, and the feel of her skin soft and warm under his touch caused even more amazing sensations numbing his brain.

When she broke away from their kiss, he automatically began trailing kisses down her neck as if it was the most natural thing to do. When she let out a small, husky groan his kisses got stronger and more bolder as he nudged away the collar of her shirt to give him access of her breastbone.

“Harry,” she breathed, her voice barely making through the fog of his brain, “Harry, you need to stop.”

The word ‘stop’ awakened his morality and quickly toned down the hormones that had taken him over. He scrambled off of her, allowing her to sit and readjust her shirt that had risen dangerously high and tame down her untameable hair a little.

“Oh God,” he moaned, knowing he was blushing furiously, “I’m so sorry Hermione! I…I didn’t…”

“You don’t need to apologise,” she smirked shyly, “I, well, I was enjoying…that was…well, wow.”

“I think wow kind of covers it,” Harry agreed, looking at her slightly embarrassed.

“If we didn’t stop then, I don’t think I would’ve had the will power to stop you at all,” Hermione confessed, entwining her hands with his, “you’re an amazing kisser Harry.”

“Er…thanks,” he stammered, blushing once more, “you’re not too bad yourself.”

“Thanks.”

They sat there for a moment or two, just holding hands and looking at each other, knowing that everything between them had changed – hopefully for the better.

“I’m glad we had this chat,” she said finally, her smile never leaving her face.

“So am I,” Harry confirmed with a small nod.

“Does this mean we’re going to give us a try?” she asked.

“Are you sure you want to?” he asked back, not quite believing that all this was actually happening.

“Honestly Harry,” she admonished, smacking his arm lightly, “haven’t you heard a word I’ve been saying at all?”

“I heard that you and Ron broke up, that Ginny was a cow, that Ron thinks you and I should be together, that you don’t care about the danger being with me will put you in and that you love me.”

“Just the important stuff,” she grinned before leaning in for another kiss,” that’s my Harry.”