A/N: Haha, this took forever to post. Sorry
They had destroyed all the horcruxes and now all that was left was the final showdown-the prophesized moment when the two most powerful wizards would duel to the death. It was a thought that would keep her up in bed some nights. Every day brought reports of suspicious gatherings and occurrences, but Death Eater attacks were down, something, which Harry pointed out, could be a very bad omen.
Some nights, when he was feeling brave or perhaps lonely, Harry would come into her room under the guise that she had left something downstairs or he had an important question. It almost always led to them talking for hours upon end and, yes, perhaps a stolen kiss here or there under the cover of night. When daylight would break they would act as they had always acted, sharing brief glances and stolen touches that teetered the line of friendship but never truly crossed it.
They never did really sit down and talk about what was going on. She didn't want to bother his already hectic life with the predicament of the whole "are they or aren't they". She figured that Harry, being the superstitious person that he was (yes few people knew that he always wore the same socks to his Quidditch games) he was probably afraid to say it out loud, for fear that something would go horrible wrong.
She was fine with where they were now, how could she not be happy? Harry Potter liked her, and she loved knowing that.
"Hermione, you awake?" Harry softly called through her closed door. She kicked off the covers and opened the door.
"Hey, Harry, what's wrong?" He walked in her room and leaned against her dresser.
"I just wanted to make sure you didn't want any of the cake Mrs. Weasley sent over." He placed the plate of cake on her dresser. "Were you trying to go to bed?" She shook her head.
"Not really, just thinking. What are you up to?"
"Thinking." Hermione walked over to him and leaned against the dresser, pressing her side against him lightly. He leaned into her. "This is a nice room. You made it look…happy."
"That was the point."
"Well it looks nice."
"Thanks." The conversation slipped to silence. Harry always came to her room. She never went to his. She suspected that he still tried so hard to keep her away from that part of his life (that is the deep, dark, sad, terrible past that seemed to follow him around part).
"So…" She almost laughed. This was the funniest part of when Harry came to see her. He would come with some half-baked excuse and then have nothing to say to her.
"So how was flying today?"
"It was great, you should have come. Ron and I just tossed around a quaffle for a bit. You should have seen this one catch he made, brilliant. He really should still be on the Gryffindor team, he's gotten loads better."
"Think he'll become a professional? Maybe for the Chuddy Cannons?"
"That's Chudley Cannons, Hermione." He chuckled slightly and walked over to her bookcase taking out a book on healing charms and paged through it absentmindedly. "Anyway, I think he has a problem with professional players, or, wait a second, maybe he just had a problem with Viktor?" He looked at her impishly. She pushed herself off from the dresser and tossed a pillow at him.
"Don't mock, Viktor happened to be a very good friend and an excellent pen pal. His writing is much better than his English."
"Well, it's much easier to write Hermione to than say it." She crossed her arms at him and tried to give him a disapproving stare but this playful Harry was just too adorable and far too rare to shun. "Okay, okay, I'll give him some credit. He did think I fancied you in fourth year." He placed the book down and sat on her bed. She plopped down next to him.
"And did you?"
"No, but I do now."
"Good, because I happen to fancy you too." He reached out for her hand and squeezed it softly. He looked deeply in her eyes and suddenly she realized that it wasn't playful Harry squeezing her hand but very serious and vulnerable Harry. Her smile faded a bit. "Harry…" it was a whisper cut short by his lips pressing desperately against hers. She slipped into that deliciously sublime feeling that washed over her every time their lips met.
She could only imagine what it must feel like for him. His whole world falling apart as he faced troubles that no one should face. She and Ron were his two constants, his only constants.
His hand wove into her hair as he pulled her closer and her hands pressed lightly into his shoulders, clutching him against her. His other hand caressed her cheek, drawing free form patterns against her flushed skin.
She was ready for it all to end. Ready for the search to end, ready for the fighting to stop, and ready for that feeling of impending doom to be lifted, but that would mean facing Voldemort, beginning the final battle, and losing those she cared about. She'd almost rather stay suspended in uncertainty, holed up in a grimy house, than risk losing those she loved.
His tongue was tracing her lips and she opened her mouth to him as they explored the newfound territory. Pumpkin juice, of course he would taste like pumpkin juice. They were kissing urgently, breathlessly, desperately. That was when she realized. Harry may not be the best at speaking his mind, he may not be able to let his guard down until nightfall, but when he did, this was how he could do it best. Somehow, when he kissed her, he was being more articulate than his words could ever take him. She felt it all. His want, need, frustration, anger, fear, desperation, and most breathtakingly, love.
Life is transient. It was something he had come to accept. The prophecy gave him a fifty-fifty chance of living. It was fact. He had two years to come to terms with that. But, not so surprisingly, things had become complicated. He had worked hard to build up that kind of thinking, that nonattached, whatever happens happens, kind of mindset, but then he fell for her, and she fell for him, and it all fell into place, while everything else fell apart.
Sure, life is transient, but he no longer looked at the final battle as something to save the wizarding world. The final battle was to save his world. His life. It was no longer something he had to do for wizard-kind, it was something he had to do for himself, for Ron, for Hermione, for normalcy and safety.
And suddenly his hands were roaming under her shirt and along her back, feeling the smooth, warm skin. Her hands ran along his toned stomach, mapping every inch. He enjoyed the unfamiliar sensations of bliss before he began to slow down. Removing his hands from her and slowing their kisses until they stopped, he pulled away. Breathing heavily they stared at each other for a moment. He kissed her again on the lips before bringing his hands into his lap.
"Wow."
"Yeah."
"That was…"
"I know."
"I just…" he fidgeted more and she moved closer to him, trying to read his emotions. His eyes met hers briefly, giving him the courage to speak. "Hermione, I've always wanted something like this. In fact I've wanted this for awhile. I just, want you to know that this, between us, I'm serious about this. It couldn't come at a worse time but I don't care, I've let my name dictate too much of my life already. You know I'm not good with this stuff but just know that whatever happens to me, I've thought about it carefully and I want this. It's the happiest I've ever been." She was crying. He made her cry. Not in a bad way, but not really in a good way either. In the sad way. He put his arm around her and pushed her unruly hair behind her ear. "Hey, you weren't supposed to cry." She buried her head into his shoulder and his heart broke for her.
"You must think I'm such a baby. Merlin, I haven't cried since like first year when Ron said I was a know-it-all. I just, why us? Why you?" She brushed his hair aside bringing the scar into full view.
"It's a question I've spent years asking myself, Hermione. All I can say is fate, it brought me to Hogwarts, to Ron, to you; it brought me this scar. You need to get rest Hermione. I'll see you in the morning." He went to get up but she pulled him back down.
"Please just stay tonight." He smiled at her and kissed the top of her head before getting into bed with her. He didn't know what to do, but she snuggled up against him, and he immediately felt at ease. "I'm serious about this too. No matter what happens. No regrets."
"No regrets." He kissed her on the top of her head once more before he closed his eyes, and went to sleep.
A/N: Woo a longer chapter. Tell me what you think!