Fortune's Fool

Disclaimer: I'm not JK Rowling, so Harry Potter's is not mine.

A/N: Hope you like it! Don't worry Ron and Hermione won't be together for long, so don't let that turn you off!

Chapter 1 - A Startling Reappearance

Hermione and Ron sat in her kitchen having some tea. Hermione had invited him over, as both of their jobs had been keeping them so busy that it had been weeks since they'd seen each other. Hermione worked for a newspaper that she and Luna had started that pushed for the rights of magical creatures, including house elves. Ron had gotten a management job with the Chudley Canons, which to him was the next best thing to being on the team. However, it also meant he traveled a lot. Hermione, as with everything she did, threw herself completely into her work, and sometimes neglected to take a break from things.

Harry Potter, their best friend, they hadn't seen in almost two years. He'd left without a word to go off and hunt down Voldemort and his followers.

After Harry had left, Hermione had worked non-stop for weeks, as though trying to keep herself to busy to think about it. Ron's friendship had been all that had kept her sane.

Hermione got up to get more tea, then sat down at the table and opened one of the several papers she read during the day, but hadn't gotten to in the morning when the owl delivered it.

Upon reading the headline of the first paper Hermione choked and sent her mouthful of tea flying across the table and all over Ron. He stood up and brushed the liquid off his shirt the best he could and began to complain about being covered in spit up tea, when he looked up her. Hermione's hands were trembling violently and her brown eyes were filled with tears. There were few times when he'd seen her look so shaken by anything.

“Hermione are you okay? What's happened” he asked in concern, putting a steadying hand on her shoulder.

Hermione didn't answer him, momentarily focused completely on the newspaper. Her mouth was slightly open, but she seemed beyond words. She read quickly, her eyes darting back and forth as she read the article. When she finished, without speaking she slid the paper across the table to Ron. He took a deep breath and looked down at the newspaper.

The huge headline on the front page read The Boy-Who-Lived Victorious! The Wizarding World Free of the Dark Lord!. Ron looked at the other papers scattered across the table and most of them had similar headlines. He made a noise of surprise and disbelief.

“Well, that's good news Hermione. I can't believe he's finally gone,” Ron commented, looking down at the page again as if he couldn't quite grasp what he had just read. Voldemort, who had threatened the entire existence of the wizarding world, was finally dead.

“No, he'll be back,” Hermione said quietly. Tears were rolling down her cheeks, but now her expression was otherwise glazed over.

“He's really dead this time Hermione. Really, he won't come back by drinking unicorn's blood or anything this time. You read the article, it's true. Calm down, it's over,” Ron assured, gently patting her on the back.

“No, Harry. Harry will be back,” she whispered, her mouth trembling as she spoke. Ron frowned, his features darkening.

It seemed like so long ago now that Harry had left. They both presumed that he went to go fight Voldemort on his own. Hermione had felt it was to protect them, but Ron wasn't sure. Whatever the reasoning behind Harry's sudden departure, both of them had been hurt and angry, as either of them would have been glad to give their lives to help Harry and defeat Voldemort.

“Don't worry about Hermione. I doubt he'll come back to see us any time soon. He'll be too busy basking in the glory of being the Boy-Who-Lived…twice,” Ron told her bitterly, in a tone laced with spite.

Hermione looked up him and frowned sadly. “Ron, you really don't believe that do you? I know he didn't go about leaving the right way, and I am still very hurt too, but you know Harry better than that. He's hardly hungry for fame,” she said softly, her eyes sad and vacant.

Ron felt guilty for upsetting her further. “Sorry Hermione. We'll just wait and see how things go.”

He sat down again. They both sat and picked at their food in silence for a few moments, caught in between happiness over Voldemort's demise and sadness over the state of their friendship with Harry. Suddenly someone began knocking loudly on the door. Hermione yelped in surprise and Ron nearly fell from his chair.

“I'll get,” he said quickly. “I expect that will be someone from the press wanting to talk to the savior of the Wizarding world's best friends,” he added sourly.

Ron opened the door to find not someone from the press but Harry standing outside the door. If he hadn't been so surprised Ron would have slammed it shut again. Harry's expression was worn and sad, at least he wasn't smiling that would have been unbearable. Harry came hesitantly inside, evidently guessing that Ron might be tempted to slam the door in his face. Harry gave Ron a sad glance, at a loss for what to say to his best friend.

“Ron, who is it?” Hermione asked, walking over to see for herself, wondering why Ron hadn't said a word and neither had whoever was at the door.

She came around the corner and gasped. A strangled cry escaped her lips and her had flew to her heart. Harry was back, standing in front of her in her living room. And he was alive, she had never told Ron, but she had always personally felt that they would never see their best friend alive again. There was so much she would have wanted to say to him, if he had come and told her that he was going, but that was the past. Here he was alive, real…Harry. The anger and pain of the past two years evaporated for the moment. She flung herself into Harry's arms, hugging him fiercely, nearly making him fall backward. He had gotten taller in the past few years, although he was still not Ron's height. Harry didn't seem to mind her rough hug, returning it warmly. Hot tears began to slide down her cheeks, soaking Harry's shirt. His embrace, still gave her that familiar sense of comfort and safety.

“I missed you so much,” she whispered so softly that she wasn't even sure if Harry heard.

She was glad her face was hidden, as she was suddenly feeling guilty for how wonderful it felt to be back in Harry's arms.

Ron cleared his throat, clearly annoyed and uncomfortable. Hermione knew this would cause an argument later, but for the moment didn't really care.

“Harry, why did you even come here?” Ron demanded. “Shouldn't you be getting interviewed and paraded around the wizarding world.”

Harry gently let go of Hermione, sensing Ron didn't like them hugging for so long. She backed away from him hesitantly, not wanting to move away from him, but Ron moved forward, possessively wrapping an arm around her waist. Hermione frowned and twisted away.

“Ron, I know I have a lot to apologize for and a lot to explain. I know you don't want to hear any of it, but I am begging you to at least hear me out,” Harry pleaded.

Ron stared and him for a moments, surveying him coldly.

“Harry, you've upset my girlfriend enough for the day. I promise I will talk to you about this, but not now. I can't handle, and I doubt Hermione is up to listening to your bloody excuses right now either,” Ron finally answered.

Hermione elbowed Ron. She knew he had a right to be angry with Harry, but she hated seeing them argue, and she hated how possessive he was acting.

Harry flinched visibly when Ron called Hermione his girlfriend and looked in incomprehension at Hermione. Hermione smiled ruefully. She knew she had no reason to feel guilty about dating Ron, but she didn't like how he was rubbing it in Harry's face. And if she wasn't completely mistaken, the news seemed to upset Harry.

“Fine, I'll give you your space. I am glad you're so bloody happy to see me again,” Harry snapped, up until them he had been very calm, but Ron's last comment had seemed to set him off and hurt him.

“You have no reason to be angry with me you prat, you're the one who left, deal with the consequences,” Ron retorted heatedly.

Harry and Ron stood for a moment in silence, eyes locked. Hermione glanced back and forth, afraid for a moment that they might fight. Harry turned away though abruptly, and without another word turned to go. He glanced back and met Hermione's eyes. The emerald depths his were unreadable, but his face clearly gave away the agony and disappointed he was feeling. She felt guilty for being so quick to forgive Harry, but it hurt her to see him in pain even if he may have deserved the things Ron had said to him.

Suddenly his was gone again. Hermione burst into to tears again. This day was taking a toll on her emotions. Seeing Harry again had stirred something in her, and she hated feeling so confused and guilty.

Ron came over and silently hugged her. She sighed, grateful that for the moment Ron wasn't going to argue with her about Harry. It would have pushed her emotionally over the edge.

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Disclaimer: Canon Harry Potter stories are not mine

A/N: This isn't an update, I just re-worked this chapter a little bit. Hope it's a tad better.

Chapter 2 - Old Regrets and New Mistakes

Hermione stood in the street looking up at the building where Harry lived. It was very quiet, and though the homes in the area were very nice, she was sure that he hadn't spent much money on the place. Harry had plenty of money, due to his fame and because of the fortune his parents had left him. However, he rarely spent it to excess, especially on himself. Sighing she looked down at the crumpled piece of paper clutched in her hand, with the address written on it which she'd managed to get through friends she had at the ministry.

She felt a wave of guilty wash over her. Her stomach churned and she had the need to turn around and apparate out of there. Ron didn't know she was here, and she was sure he would be far from pleased if he knew. She had to do this for herself though.

Hermione closed her eyes and took a deep breath, and slowly climbed the stairs up to the door. With a trembling hand she formed a fist and knocked. After a few agonizing moments the door swung open and she saw the familiar face of her best friend Harry. It was hard to believe that she hadn't seen him at all for the past two years before his sudden appearance the other day. Harry looked at her and his eyes widened; clearly he hadn't expected to see her anytime soon. Hermione noticed that Harry looked around apprehensively as though he expected Ron to pop out of nowhere and slug him. He leaned against the door frame studying her face with an inquiring air.

“Hi, Harry,” she managed, at a loss for anything else to say to break the moment of uneasy silence.

“Um, hi Hermione, come in,” Harry offered politely but clearly confused about her appearing at his door. Hermione took him up on his offer before she lost the small amount of nerve that she had left at the moment. Harry looked around and then shut the door behind them. She looked around in curiosity at his flat, a welcome distraction for her nerves.

He hadn't lived there long from the look of things. There were half unpacked boxes sitting in the hallway and most of the walls were still completely bare. She bit her lip to keep back tears when she noticed that the one picture Harry had hung up, was one of him, her and Ron from their last year at Hogwarts. Looking away, she followed Harry down the hall.

“I'm glad that it was you and not one of the flocks of girls from the expanding fan club I seem lucky enough to have acquired,” Harry told her with an anxious smile. “I had one nearly rip my shirt off me the other day, not much fun. They're bloody terrifying at times actually.” His eyes sparkled with humor.

Hermione grinned feebly, but felt a flash of emotion which she knew to be jealousy. She frowned to herself. Harry was certainly not her boyfriend, what reason did she have to feel resentful? Besides she was mad at him. Harry shifted around nervously.

“We can sit down if you want,” Harry said, gesturing to a cluttered table with two mismatched chairs that he seemed to be using as a desk and a dining table. There were papers, books, and a few crumb-covered plates spread across its surface. Hermione silently took a seat. Harry quickly moved some things off the table, in an effort to make it look a little nicer.

She took a moment to study Harry more carefully. When she'd last seen him, she'd been so upset and taken aback that she hadn't had time to take in his appearance. Hermione noted worriedly that he looked to thin, much like he had when she'd first met him. There were still traces of scars, undoubtedly from his various battles with Voldemort and Death Eaters for the past two years. His face was even more pale than usual, and his brilliant emerald eyes were red-rimmed, making them stand out ever more. As he moved to take a seat at the she noted a limp in his usually steady, confident gait, which Professor Snape had deemed a strut during their Hogwarts years. Harry, who always seemed invincible, looked almost fragile. Suddenly she longed to hold, tell him he wasn't alone and that she still cared about him. He looked curiously lonely to her.

Harry noticed Hermione looking at him, and she quickly averted her eyes in embarrassment. As she did so, she felt her eyes fill up with tears. Harry sighed softly, looking down at his hands. He nervously fiddled around with a small bit of parchment that had been lying on the table.

He looked up, trying to get her to meet his eyes.

“I like your flat,” she commented politely, trying to make a bit of small talk, and relieve some of the awkwardness of the situation.

Harry looked around and shrugged. “Ah, it's not much, but it's a sight better than Dursleys'.” His tone was somewhat cold. She looked at him quizzical. It was clear that now wasn't the time for friendly chit chat.

Harry cleared his throat and unconsciously rubbed his sore leg. Hermione looked away. It was hard to stay angry at someone who still looked so hurt and broken from the final battle with Voldemort. Harry looked up at, his expression inscrutable.

“Hermione, not to be rude, but why are you even here? Ron made it pretty clear how you two feel about me. I figured it would be a long time before I saw either of you again,” Harry commented bitterly, breaking the silence.

Hermione frowned. “Do be fair Harry. I said nothing against you yesterday. I was so happy to see you, so glad to have you back. Though you must admit, Ron and I have a right to be angry with you,”

“That's just the problem. I can't believe you said nothing. The Hermione I knew never hesitated to contradict Ron if she didn't agree, and you said nothing,” Harry retorted, appearing angry and hurt. Hermione sighed in frustration.

“Harry, really. I know Ron was a bit rude, but the way you left us, it hurt us.

What upsets us the most is the fact that you didn't even bother to tell us. Also, you didn't seem to believe that Ron and I would have died for you if you let us help you. Because if you'd known that, you wouldn't have gone off on your own,” Hermione told him quietly, unable to meet his eyes as she spoke.

Harry looked baffled for a moment. “But Hermione, I told you I was going! I told you both! I swear,” Harry exclaimed. His tone was insistent.

Hermione felt anger pulse through her veins. She stood up, making the chair screech loudly on the old wooden floor. Tears of anger sprang to her eyes. Why was he lying like this?

“Oh, yeah, is that so? Harry James Potter! Don't lie to me. You can lie to the newspapers and to your asinine fan club all you want, but not to me, please not to me.” She pounded her tightly clenched fist on the table. Her mouth was trembling now. She bit her lip, refusing to cry.

Harry inhaled sharply, clearly livid, “I am not lying to you Hermione!” he shouted. “When have I ever lied to you?” His last words came out almost as a hiss.

Hermione shook her head as if it would make his words go away. “Oh, it was such a mistake to come here,” she shouted in frustration, more to herself than to Harry. She pushed her chair in and clutched her bag, preparing to go, the desire to flee taking over. Harry grabbed her arm, and she angrily tried to twist out of his grip.

“Harry, let me go! Please, let go!!! I need to get out of here. You've changed. I thought you'd at least be honest about what you did. Instead you're playing innocent, and I can't stand it,” Hermione yelled. “Ron was completely right about you,” she added, her tone icy and cutting.

Harry let go of her instantly and she had to brace herself against the wall to keep her balance.

“What do you mean by that?” he demanded indignantly.

“He said that you wanted all the glory for yourself, and that you would positively revel in the attention you got after you killed Voldemort,” she revealed frankly. Her expression was icy.

Harry grabbed the chair nearest to him for support; her last words seemed to crumble his strong façade. He appeared unable to deal with the fact that this was what his two former best friends now thought of him.

“Hermione, you've always supported me, even when everyone else doubted me. Please believe what I am telling you,” Harry told her. He gently took her hand, but she pulled it away.

Hermione looked away, she couldn't meet his eyes or it would melt her.

“No Harry. This time I can't. I know that you're lying and it hurts me more than anything. I want to stand by you, but I can't.” Tears were now streaming freely down her face.

Harry's face crumpled into an expression of agony. He moved towards her again, but then backed away, as if in defeat.

“Oh, Hermione,” he whispered in complete anguish. Something about his appearance at the moment frightened her. He didn't look angry, but rather indescribably vulnerable, much as he when he was sleeping and having a nightmare. What frightened her was how it made her feel; it touched some emotion deep inside of her soul.

“I'm so sorry Harry. Like, I said, I shouldn't have come. Ron doesn't know I'm here, and he would have forbid me to come. This time he would probably have had the right idea,” she told him.

His eyes flashed dangerously.

“Yes, go running home to Ron. You both feel the same way about me after all,” Harry hissed.

“Oh, Harry that's hardly fair,” she interjected.

“Please don't talk to me about what's bloody fair. My life has been anything but that Hermione,” he snapped.

“Harry…”

He waved her away, he'd heard enough for the time being.

Hermione frowned slightly, but put her hand gently on Harry's arm. He pulled away from her touch as though stung. There had been very few moments in her life were she had felt so agonizingly torn between two such different emotions. She felt such anger and such sadness.

“Goodbye Harry,” she whispered, pausing in the open doorway as she left. He turned and glanced at her. What Hermione saw in his eyes haunted her for longer that he could ever know.

She got outside and apparated home, where she could cry and mull over the disastrous afternoon.

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Disclaimer: Canon Harry Potter is not mine, ah if only

A/N: Hope you enjoy the chapter. It should have beautiful grammar this time. Thanks go to my amazing beta reader LydiaCarol!

Chapter 3 - Fractured Relationships

Hermione Apparated in front of her flat, impatiently murmuring the spell to unlock her front door. To her surprise she hadn't even needed the spell, the door already being unlocked. She entered the room slowly, her senses heightened, keeping an eye out for the slightest movement. A figure moved in the kitchen, and she inadvertently screamed. Ron came running in, his wand at the ready. Her hand flew to her racing heart, and she looked at him with annoyance.

“What are you doing here, Ron? You scared me out of my mind. I thought a disgruntled ex-Death Eater or something had come here to get me,” she snapped her brown eyes flashing.

Ron smiled sheepishly; he hadn't meant to scare her so badly or to incur her wrath. “Sorry, Hermione. I was just worried because I went to visit you at work today, and they said that you had told them you couldn't come in today. You never, ever miss work, so naturally I was worried,” he explained, frowning slightly as he finished.

“You rarely come to see me at work - why today?” she asked accusingly.

“I just wanted to see my girlfriend. Is there something wrong with that?” Ron demanded hotly.

Hermione sighed, feeling slightly guilty but still annoyed. “No, Ron. Like I said, it's just unusual.”

“So, it's my turn to ask questions. What are you doing home today? You don't seem sick to me, and you were clearly just out somewhere. What's going on here?” Ron demanded his expression serious but probing.

Hermione shifted her gaze to the floor evasively, preferring the floorboards to Ron's eyes. Her face flushed, revealing the guilt that was boiling up inside her. She walked past him and set her bag on the table in the entry area, walking to the kitchen to make tea.

Before she could answer, he asked, more an accusation that a question, “You were at Harry's, weren't you?” as he followed her into the kitchen.

Hermione bit her lip, holding back the tears that she'd been on the verge of ever since leaving Harry's. She turned her back to Ron, rummaging in the cabinets for her teapot, trying to compose herself. Turning back to face him, she gave him a reproachful look.

“Does it really matter now?” she whispered, so that Ron could barely hear. She slammed down the teapot she was holding. It shattered loudly, glass scattering across the countertop.

Taking no notice of the teapot, Ron shouted, “It bloody does matter. I hate that you would even think about lying and going behind my back. You didn't when we were just best friends. I am just a little upset that you went to go see him, even after how he's treated us.”

Hermione shrank away from his anger. This was not what she needed right now. Somehow it seemed that now matter how things were, Ron would always be jealous of Harry for one reason or another. It bothered her that she was thinking like that about her best friend and boyfriend. She sat down on a nearby stool, feeling emotionally drained.

“You didn't even give me a chance to lie to you before you started accusing me, Ronald,” Hermione sniffed, futilely trying to pick up the pieces of glass on the counter. Her hands were shaking too much, though; giving up, she dropped them futilely to her sides.

Ron expression softened slightly, though he still looked angry. “Yes, well I thought you were going to.”

“Alright, Ron, I was at Harry's. Are you happy? I just needed to talk to him. To hear his side without you yelling. But I really don't want to see him any time soon after today,” she told him crossly.

“Why? What did the foul git do to you?” Ron demanded, jumping into attack mode. Hermione held back a frown. It still seemed so strange to hear Ron talk about Harry like that even though she was mad at him.

“Nothing. It just seems that you were right about him, and I guess I was trying to lie to myself about him. It doesn't matter, though, and I really don't have the strength to talk about this anymore,” she said.

Ron sighed, his anger spent, and sat in a chair at the kitchen table.

“Now do you want some tea?” she asked.

“Um, sure,” Ron replied quickly. He sighed, no longer angry but still upset about things. It wasn't that he and Hermione never fought, they always had, ever since their days at Hogwarts. However, she'd always been honest with him. He hated the feeling settling in the pit of his stomach, the sense that he and Hermione were starting to fall apart as a couple. The worst part was he wasn't even sure why.

Hermione busied herself with a new pot, flicking her wand. Tea appeared hot and ready to drink. Her hair was messier than usual; it seemed to have frizzled during the fight. She poured it into mismatched mugs, walking over and handing one to Ron. He noticed that her hands were still shaking slightly.

“Has he really changed?” Ron asked bluntly, not meeting her eyes.

Hermione bit her lip and simply nodded, not trusting herself to speak. He had changed, but not in the way she knew Ron meant. Ron sighed and looked down into his tea.

“I bet he was a complete jerk, wasn't he?” Ron remarked. Hermione set down her mug with a thump on the table, Harry's face as he insisted that he'd told them that he was going to leave still fresh in her mind.

Hermione groaned. “Ron, I really don't want to talk about him anymore today.” She gave him her no more nonsense look.

“Oh, come on, Hermione. He clearly said something that is really bothering you.” Ron stared at her penetratingly, his arms crossed.

“It's nothing, Ron,” she insisted. She looked down into her teacup, absentmindedly stirring the caramel-colored liquid with her spoon.

“Did he kiss you!?!” Ron shouted suddenly, his eyes widening at the thought and his ears reddening. Hermione frowned as she felt her cheeks involuntarily stain pink.

“No, Ron. Stop acting like a jealous prat. Honestly, why can't you just drop this? Maybe you should go,” she complained.

“Hermione, please don't be mad. I just want to know because I love you so much. I hate to see you so hurt. I guess I am still hurt myself. Harry was my best mate you know,” Ron explained, his features softening.

Hermione sighed, looking up at him sadly, feeling a little guilty for her rudeness towards him.

“Well, if you must know, he told me that he told us that he was going to leave, which is clearly a lie. He was so insistent about it though. I was taken aback. I don't know what to believe. All I know is he never came to see me, unless someone put a memory spell on me in my sleep,” she relayed slowly.

“Oh, that's odd,” was all Ron said in response. Hermione looked up him, thrown by his behavior. “You wouldn't leave me alone until I told you, and that's all you have to say?” she exclaimed, not really angry, but rather confused by his mild response.

Ron looked around uncomfortably. Hermione eyed him warily. There was something going on with him. His reaction bothered her, and she couldn't put her finger on why.

“Yeah well, it makes sense that he'd make up something like that,” Ron finally said. He nervously fiddled with his teaspoon.

“You know what, Ron, no offense but I really want to be alone now,” she told him, not in the mood to deal with him anymore.

“Sure, Hermione. No problem. I'll come see you tomorrow. Love you,” he replied. He kissed her on the check. He stopped for a moment on his way to the door and looked at her sadly.

“Hermione…” he began sadly. She looked up gloomily, probably expecting him to ask her more about Harry.

“What, Ron?” she replied irritably.

“Ah, never mind,” he said, slowly opening the front door and closing it quietly behind him.

Hermione watched him leave, a sick feeling settling in her stomach. This whole day needed to be over. As much as she didn't believe him, she couldn't forget the look on Harry's face as he'd told her that he had warned her that he was going. She buried her head in her folded arms as she slumped forward on the table. And on top of it all, there was Ron, acting jealous, overly protective, and then completely mental…ugh boys.

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Disclaimer: Harry Potter is not mine…I only wish.

A/N: Hope you enjoy the chapter! Thanks to my wonderful beta reader LydiaCarol, this chapter is much improved thanks to her.

Chapter 4- Jealously Will Drive You Mad

Ron leaned against the wall in the entryway of Hermione's flat, absentmindedly drumming his fingers on a table. Pausing for a moment, he glanced up at the clock on the wall and sighed impatiently. After a few more minutes, his patience nearly gone, he walked down the hall. He stopped at the mirror, frowning as he messed around with his hateful tie. No matter how old he got, dressing up never became less of an annoyance for him. At least he'd never had to wear those horrid dress robes from the Yule Ball he'd attended during his Hogwarts years. Looking away from the mirror, he walked over to the staircase. He could see light spilling out from underneath Hermione's closed bedroom door.

“Hermione, hurry up! You can use magic to get ready you know,” he shouted up the stairs as he leaned on the banister. He felt like he had been waiting an hour for her, rather than ten minutes. She usually wasn't one to run behind schedule. In fact she tended to favor punctuality, expecting it from herself and others.

“Seriously, Ronald, I told you I am nearly ready. The more you whine the more I'll take my time,” she yelled down to him, her tone playful. She stood in front of her mirror, nervously smoothing her dress and patting down her hair. They hadn't seen some of their Hogwarts friends in years, and she wanted to make a good impression.

Finally, to Ron's relief, she appeared at the top of the stairs. She was wearing a gorgeous light blue, off-the-shoulder dress embroidered with small crystals along the bottom hem. They little jewels glimmered in the light as she descended the staircase. Her bushy curls were swept up on her head and neatly pinned in place with the help of several pins and a little magic. Ron's eyes widened as he watched her, his mouth falling open.

“Bloody hell!” he whispered appreciatively. Maybe the waiting had been worth it.

Hermione rolled her eyes and smiled. “You are about as charming as Crabbe and Goyle sometimes, Ron,” she admonished him. Ron grinned.

“Oh, come on, Hermione. At least I know how to dress myself,” he quipped. Hermione's eyes twinkled in amusement.

“Yes, that's so hard to find in a man these days. Sometimes I just can't believe how lucky I am,” she said, adding a dramatic sigh, but then bursting into laughter. Things had been strained between her and Ron the past few weeks, but on such a joyful day for one of their friends, their problems seemed to be put aside.

“All right, enough picking on me for now. We'd best get to the wedding,” Ron told her, suddenly noticing the time. Hermione nodded, her eyes widening as they wandered to the clock.

One of their friends from Hogwarts, Seamus, was marrying a witch he'd met a few years ago. Ron and Hermione had kept in touch with him after leaving school, though not as well as they would have liked. They'd been a little surprised to receive an invitation, but were glad to see an old friend again, especially for such a happy occasion.

“Ready?” Ron asked. Hermione nodded, and they both Apparated to the given location.

They appeared moments later in front of a beautiful outdoor wedding tent. All the chairs and tables were already set up for the reception following the wedding.

“Let's look around for some of our old mates,” Ron suggested. Despite the extra time it had taken waiting for Hermione to get ready, they had still managed to get there early.

Ron linked his arm with hers as they headed towards the crowd which was gathered near rows of chairs that were set up for the wedding ceremony.

As they approached the crowd of old schoolmates, Hermione felt cold beads of perspiration form on her body and face as she spotted an unmistakable head of unruly raven hair. As she and Ron got closer, hearing his voice only confirmed it. Harry was here. Her panic turned to anger, when she noticed who Harry's date was - Ginny. For a moment she felt like she was going to be ill. She tugged Ron's sleeve hard, and pulled him back away from the crowd.

“What the bloody hell is wrong with you?” he protested as she dragged him along the path.

“Do you see that your sister is here with Harry, Ronald?” she hissed, still clutching doggedly onto the sleeve of his dress robes. Ron shrugged, attempting to look surprised for Hermione's sake. He had known that Ginny was with Harry and now realized that he should have known that he would regret not telling Hermione.

“Yeah, well, I figured they'd get back together once he got rid of Voldemort,” Ron replied nonchalantly. Hermione's eyes widened in shock. Her ears must be betraying her, because surely Ron would be more upset than this about his sister dating someone he seemed to now loathe. Ron looked a little caught off guard, but other than that he seemed not to care at all about the state of things.

“I am so confused, Ronald. You have done nothing but disparage Harry this past month, and you don't care one bit that your sister is dating him. Did I miss something? Did you and Harry make up? Why would you keep that from me if you did?” she demanded in a baffled tone, looking extremely hurt.

Ron looked around nervously to see if anyone was listening in on their conversation. He grabbed Hermione's arm and pulled her a little further away from the crowd as her volume increased.

“Hermione, you know that I have never been able to control Ginny. She does what she wants when she wants. Of course I don't really love that she is back with Harry, but apparently they've sorted things out. I don't especially want to get in the middle of her love life when it concerns Harry anyway,” he whispered, his ears turning red. He looked annoyed, yet guilty at the same time. Hermione put a hand to her head, which was suddenly pounding. She'd thought today was going to be normal, but clearly that was too much to hope for.

“Ron, I know it's not your job to control your sister - as you say, there's not much you can do - but I don't understand how you don't seem to care at all,” Hermione protested, not ready to drop the topic just yet.

Ron leaned against a nearby tree, running his fingers through his bright red hair. He sighed and looked down at the ground, unwilling to meet her eyes.

“Love, I really don't want to talk about this anymore right now. This is a celebration for Seamus and his fiancée, and I don't want to spoil it by causing a scene. I promise we can finish this later. I know a little more about Ginny and Harry than I can tell you at the moment, but tonight I'll tell you the rest,” Ron told her wearily. He fiddled nervously with his tie. Hermione reflexively slapped his hand away and fixed it for him. She was feeling even more ill than she had when she'd first spotted Harry and then Ginny.

“I don't want to let it go though, Ron. It will bother me all night if we don't sort this out now,” she told him desperately. Ron looked at her closely for a moment. She looked very upset, and well jealous.

“Hermione, why do you even care if they're together? I thought you weren't even friends with Harry anymore,” he said, watching her reaction. Hermione frowned.

“I never said I wasn't his friend anymore! I'm just concerned about Ginny and Harry being together. I just think they will both end up hurt,” Hermione managed in explanation. She fiddled nervously with the hem of her dress.

“Hermione, is there something you want to tell me?” She looked up at him, the emotion in her chocolate eyes undecipherable. They stood in silence a moment, listening to the distant sound of voices and laughter.

“No, Ron there's nothing. I suppose we should get back to the party. They'll be missing us.” She looped her arm through his. Taken aback by her sudden change in mood, Ron walked along with her, no less puzzled about what was going on with his girlfriend than before.

They had taken off to talk so quickly after arriving that the group greeted them as though they'd just arrived.

“Glad you two could come!” Seamus said, greeting them warmly. Neither of them knew the bride, but she seemed nice enough when they met her.

“I always knew he would marry a redhead,” Ron whispered to Hermione as they went to go take their seat for the ceremony. They got split up for a moment in the rest of the crowd that was also heading over. Hermione sighed in annoyance as the heel of one of her shoes got caught in the grass. She bent down to retrieve it, and looking up saw Harry standing next to her, offering a hand to help her up. Nervously, she placed her hand in his. Jumping up quickly, she pulled her hand away. The touch had sent a peculiar sensation coursing through her, and she wasn't sure what to think of it. Before she could say anything, Ginny appeared at Harry's side, looking beautiful as usual. Hermione felt her gut wrench. She nodded politely at them and then took off without a word to go find Ron in the crowd.

“Is she angry with me, Harry?” sniffed Ginny, watching Hermione take off, looking rather hurt.

“Huh, what was that?” Harry said, a blank look on his face. He too had been watching Hermione. Ginny rolled her eyes. “Forget it, Harry; let's just go take a seat.” Harry shrugged and followed her.

****

“The ceremony was very nice,” Hermione commented conversationally to Ron, as they made their way towards the tents set up for the reception.

“Yeah, I guess. I don't really care for weddings. I just like the party afterwards. I hope they don't make you pay for your drinks,” Ron said unenthusiastically.

Hermione took a seat at an empty table, glad to have a moment to take off her shoes. She had forgotten to look for a spell to prevent blisters. Someone took a seat at their table, and she looked up and saw not Ron, but Harry.

Her eyes widened, “Harry, what are you doing? Where's Ginny?” she asked.

“I don't know. I'm sorry if it was awkward before. I really don't want to be fighting with you anymore. I really miss you,” Harry told her suddenly. Hermione blinked, caught off guard completely by his candid remarks.

“Harry - I…” she began, but they were soon interrupted by both of the Weasley's. Ginny smiled sweetly at Harry, but looked slightly puzzled. Ron looked confused.

“This is wonderful! Are we going to all sit together? It will be the way it was when we were all friends at Hogwarts,” Ginny exclaimed happily. She took a seat next to Harry and leaned her head on his shoulder. Hermione looked away, feeling very ill for . This was going to be a long night.

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Disclaimer: Clearly, I am not JK Rowling, therefore Harry Potter is not mine. Not trying to make any money of it just having fun ;)

A/N: Hope you guys enjoy the chapter! Thanks to my beta reader LydiaCarol who improves my grammar and the story.

Chapter 5 - It's the Firewhiskey Talking

Hermione sat at the table alone, miserably picking at the piece of wedding cake on her plate. Ron had given up on getting her to dance, and she'd told him to go off and dance with other people if he felt like it. Sensing her sour mood, he'd willingly obliged. He knew better than to try to force Hermione to do something against her will. Her eyes wandered to the dance floor, crowded with couples. Harry and Ginny were dancing together … again. They seemed to have made it their mission to dance the entire night. Something about seeing them together upset her. Why had Ginny been so willing to forgive Harry for disappearing anyway?

Every touch and every look shared between them made her feel as though she was about to vomit all over the nice white tablecloth. Her mouth curved into a frown, as Ginny's laughter floated across the dance floor, audible even above the music. Harry was laughing too; Ginny had nearly stepped on his feet several times while they danced. Ginny seemed a little tipsy at this point in the evening - the girl never knew how to hold her alcohol, Hermione thought bitterly. She watched the younger girl flirtatiously toss her gleaming red hair over her shoulder and cringed. Sharing a table with them the whole night hadn't helped her nerves either. Ginny and Harry had both been very polite, but it that didn't mean sitting with them hadn't been incredibly awkward.

Hermione looked angrily away and downed the last bit of firewhiskey in her tumbler, inhaling sharply as it went down, burning as it slid down her throat. The ice clinked as she set down her empty glass. She stared gloomily into the bottom. The song ended, and Harry and Ginny wandered back over to the table arm in arm, still laughing.

“Hermione, you should get up and dance a little!” Ginny suggested as she took a seat, smiling sociably as she downed the rest of her drink. She gestured to a nearby server to refill her glass.

“No, thanks, I am not much of a dancer,” Hermione replied, forcing a polite smile.

“What are you talking about, Hermione? You're an amazing dancer. Remember the Yule Ball?” Harry interjected. Hermione felt her face getting hot, a little surprised at the effect Harry's kind compliments could still have on her.

Ginny frowned as she watched the two old friends, and took another sip from her glass in an effort to get the last drop.

“Whoa love, you better slow down a little,” Harry warned her, looking slightly concerned. Ginny waved him away.

“Nah, I'm fine. My brothers always say that I can out drink them any day,” she bragged, her speech a little shaky.

Hermione rolled her eyes.

“Ron is notoriously bad at holding his liquor, as are all the other Weasleys I know. So, your drinking prowess is really not much to be bragging about,” Hermione said snidely. She bit her lip, feeling slightly guilty for being so juvenile. She hadn't really meant to say that out loud.

“Yes, well…” Ginny began, but to Hermione's surprise Harry cut Ginny off.

“You, know she's right Ginny. Like I said, you should lay off the firewhiskey for a bit.” Ginny glared at him and then over at Hermione. Her expression flashed from hurt to furious. She stood up abruptly.

“I should have known that you'd side with her. Even though she hates you and won't speak to you, you still love her more,” Ginny raged at Harry, hiccupping slightly as she finished. He blinked in surprise. Hermione looked over at him, thrown for a loop. Harry loved her? No, she must have misheard Ginny. Harry glanced over at her across the table and their eyes met for a moment. What she saw in his face took her breath away.

She looked down at her own empty glass. Maybe she should take her own advice and lay off the firewhiskey herself. Looking up, she saw Ginny hurrying away from the table, holding her shoes in her hand, far too drunk to walk properly in them. Harry sighed loudly and slumped forward, propping his head up on his hands. Hermione looked around a moment and tentatively put a hand on his arm. She patted him reassuringly. He looked up, his eyes wide with surprise at the friendly gesture. He grinned with a charming awkwardness that she'd come to love in him. After their last spat, he hadn't expected even a friendly glance from her. Hermione smiled weakly at him, glad that he didn't know how susceptible she was to him

“It'll be fine, Harry. You know her temper,” Hermione told him reassuringly, though it made her feel sick to be doing something that would keep him and Ginny together. What she really wanted to tell him was, `She's not worth it - just let her go. She'll have moved on to a new guy in a week or two.'

“Yeah,” Harry replied dully. “I suppose I should go find her.”

“Um, no, Harry! I'll go talk to her. We used to be pretty close at Hogwarts. I'll explain everything to her,” Hermione cut in, hardly knowing why. Harry looked puzzled for moment, but then seemed relived about not having to having to deal with a furious Ginny. Ginny was as frightening as her mother when she was angry.

“Oh thank you so much, Hermione. That would be great. Tell her I'm sorry,” he said after a pause. She nodded and forced a small smile. Why was she doing this? Sometimes she really wasn't sure what got into her. But she knew why in her heart. She didn't want Harry to comfort Ginny; it would be playing into the younger girl's hand.

Slowly she got up from the table and headed off in the direction she'd seen Ginny go. It was already getting dark, so she hadn't gone far. Hermione found her, leaning against a tree. Her face was tear-stained, but she wasn't crying at the moment. She looked angry now.

“What are you doing here? I thought you'd have dragged Harry off by now to go have a quick shag together,” Ginny said maliciously as Hermione approached her. Hermione bit her lip, holding back the bitter retort hanging on her tongue. She clenched her fist around her wand, fighting the desire to use it.

“I hope you're drunk, because that's an awfully nasty thing to say about me,” Hermione told her frostily, quickly running out of patience.

“I came to see if were all right, actually. I think you got upset over nothing just then. Harry clearly cares about you. He wasn't taking my side, Ginny. What I said wasn't so nice, but the sentiment of it was well intentioned, and that's probably why Harry went along with what I was saying.”

“Ha, that's rich,” scoffed Ginny, her eyes flashing, pausing for a moment as a small hiccup escaped her throat. “And you and I aren't really friends anymore. Harry was taking your side, he always does. Besides it's obvious.”

“What's obvious?” Hermione demanded, slightly confused. Ginny sighed, looking more angry and bitter than before, if it was possible.

“It's obvious that he's completely in love with you, and not with me. I am just the consolation prize,” Ginny snapped, her mask of anger melting away. She suddenly looked vulnerable.

Hermione frowned slightly. “He doesn't love me, Ginny. If he did he wouldn't have left me like he did and he wouldn't be with you now.” She looked down, tears springing to her eyes as she re-opened old wounds. After gathering herself, she looked up to see Ginny frantically digging through her purse.

“What are you doing?” Hermione asked, wondering exactly how many drinks the girl had had that night.

Ginny didn't answer her, but continued rummaging for some unknown item. Finally she seemed to have found what she was looking for. She set her purse down at her feet and stepped towards Hermione, a piece of folded and crumpled parchment in her hand. Shakily she handed it to her.

“What's this?” Hermione asked, completely confused.

“Just read it,” Ginny told her grimly.

Hermione slowly unfolded the paper and looked down to see Harry's familiar handwriting hastily scrawled on it.

“What is this, Ginny?”

“Read, don't keep babbling on, read,” Ginny insisted.

Hermione did what she was told. It was a note, written to her, not Ginny:

Dear Hermione,

I know that I should be telling you this in person. However, if I did I couldn't leave you. I realize now that I need to fight Voldemort alone. I know that you would give your life for me, but I don't want it to come to that. Voldemort has taken so many of the people I love, and I couldn't bear to lose you, not my Hermione. Perhaps it's wrong to tell you like this, especially since I may die before I see you again, but I need you to know how much I love you, and not like a sister. I love you more than my clumsy words can describe. Know this, and forgive me for what I have to do.

Harry

Hermione clutched the note to her pounding heart, overwhelmed what she had read. She tried to take a deep breath in order to calm herself.

“Where did you get this?” she demanded angrily. Ginny suddenly looked rather contrite. A sheen of unshed tears formed in her eyes.

“Ron found it at the Burrow the day Harry left. There was a note for him and one for you, nothing for me. I told Ron to open yours; I wanted what to know what it said and I had to know if Harry really loved me. When I read your note, well of course, I got really upset, as did Ron. We promised each other to hide both notes and let you think Harry just took off without a word to anyone,” Ginny explained nervously. “I thought Harry might forget about his feelings for you, especially if you reacted coldly to him when he returned. But it's clear that nothing you do will make him forget. I know you'll probably never forgive me, or Ron, but at least I am not carrying this horrible secret around anymore.”

Hermione just stood there, unable to speak. She was blown away by the fact that her boyfriend and a girl she had called her friend had deceived her like this. No wonder, she and Ginny had grown apart the past few years. Who could live with that guilt if they had remained close friends? She blinked her dark eyes and leaned against the nearest tree for support. If only Ginny knew the secret she carried as well.

“I really am sorry,” Ginny told her weakly. Sorry sounded so pathetic though.

Hermione suddenly took a deep breath, a look of determination appearing in her eyes.

She clasped the note tightly in her fist, straightened up her appearance and walked over to back to the wedding reception area.

“What are you doing Hermione?” Ginny called out after her. Hermione didn't stop to answer her though.

As Hermione passed the bar area she downed a shot of some strong liquor, what kind didn't really matter.

Hermione was glad to find Harry still sitting alone at the table. He looked up, surprised by her distraught appearance.

“Hermione, are you all right?” he asked, jumping to his feet.

She stood there staring into his eyes for a moment, unable to speak. Her pulse was racing. He looked so handsome at the moment, and she couldn't believe that she had been foolish enough to doubt him, or to deny that she loved him.

“Follow me,” she finally managed. She took off so quickly that Harry had no choice but to obey if he wanted to find out what was going on. Finally she stopped near a building far from the crowds.

“Hermione, please tell me what's going on,” Harry demanded.

“Harry, I know the truth now,” she said simply, opening her clenched hand to reveal the note.

“What? Have you had that all along?” Harry asked hotly, his eyes flashing. She shook her head sadly.

“No, Harry, you don't understand. Ginny just gave it to me tonight. She and Ron found it the day you left, but never gave it to me,” she explained, hardly able to stay in control of her emotions.

Harry stepped back a moment, sucking in a breath of air, looking much as she must have when she'd first found out how their two friends had meddled with their lives.

He looked up, his face a mask of pain and confusion.

“Well, where do we go from here, Hermione?” he asked. She shook her head helplessly. For once, she didn't have the answer.

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Disclaimer: Canon Harry Potter is not mine, just having fun writing about the characters.

A/N: Thanks as always to my beta reader Lydia-Carol who is always an immense help! Hope you all enjoy this chapter. I apologize for not posting it sooner, I had a devil of a time writing it for some reason, but anyway, enjoy!

Okay, so this is my third version for the day. I've been have trouble with how far to go with the forgiveness for Ron and Ginny. I hope this chapter is a little better. Ron was Harry and Hermione's best friend, so I didn't want them to tear him apart, but I suppose I was making them too forgiving, especially Hermione. Hopefully this is a little truer to the situation.

Chapter 6 - For Every Action…A Consequence

Hermione wearily walked up the stairs to her room, pausing for a moment to slide off her high heels before continuing up the last few steps. The whole night had left her feeling betrayed and confused. Not long after talking to Harry she had taken off, faking illness and asking Ron to take her home. It had not taken much acting to get Ron to believe her, as she was she was sure that she looked like a wreck. He had insisted on making sure she got to the door safely, much to her exasperation. It was a nice gesture, but because of what she knew, being around him was too painful.

Even now with Ron safely gone, she wasn't sure how she had kept from losing it on him, taking out all the hurt she'd felt over the past two years that she shouldn't have had to feel. But something had made her hold back. Maybe it was simply the fact that she hadn't needed any more of a strain on her emotions for the night. As betrayed and infuriated as she was because of what Ron and his sister had done, she knew that confronting him would probably lead not only to the end of their relationship but also their friendship.

She sat down on her bed heavily and let the shoes and her handbag, which she still held in one hand fall to the floor with a noisy thump. Feeling completely drained, she slumped backwards onto her bed, and let out a loud sigh. The effects of drinking more alcohol than she was accustomed to were already hitting her, and she was dreading how she was going to feel in the morning. Crookshanks, sensing her gloomy mood, meowed and jumped off the bed, quickly leaving the room to sleep elsewhere. Sitting up, she slipped her dress off over head after undoing the zipper. She stared at it for a moment, looking down at what she had chose to wear for what had ended up being a horrible night with one bright spot. She pressed the silky fabric to her face, swearing for a moment that she could smell something of Harry clinging to it.

Her heart jumped against her ribcage and she smiled. She slowly rolled over on her side and then sat up, reaching on the ground for her purse. Digging through its contents she found was she was looking for, Harry's note. She smoothed it and felt a tear slid down her check. Knowing that he loved her, made her indescribably happy, despite the pain the deception of her friends had caused. Getting up from the bed, she carefully put the note in the jewelry box that had belonged to her grandma, a beautiful old one that played music and locked with a tiny key. In it were her most important possessions; it was the perfect place for Harry's note.

She pulled out a rather fancy, somewhat skimpy nightgown, nicer than what she usually wore, which Mrs. Weasley had given her last Christmas. It has embarrassed her completely, especially as she had had to open the present in front of the whole Weasley family. She normally refused to wear it unless there was nothing else clean. She'd never let Ron see her in it, despite his argument that if she never wore it, it would hurt his mum's feelings. She crawled into bed, hoping for a sleep free of nightmares. Sleep took a long time to come though, as her racing mind still didn't want to give her a moment's peace.

***

Hermione woke up the next morning to the sound of someone knocking rather loudly on her door. Groaning she turned over and looked at her clock. It was only six in the morning and her head was aching as though she'd been clubbed over the head by a mountain troll the night before. It hadn't been all that long ago that she'd finally fallen asleep, as her thoughts had been torturing her. She pulled the pillow over her heard, trying to ignore the persistent noise for a moment. If it was Ron, she'd kill him. Whoever was there, clearly wasn't giving up … ever. Slowly, she sat up and swung her feel over the side of the bed. The floor was cold against her bare feet. She looked down at what she was wearing and groaned. A frantic search turned up nothing, so she decided on draping a blanket around her shoulders. Grabbing her wand, she headed downstairs. Her hair was a complete mess. As she passed the mirror in the hall, she realized she looked rather eccentric, but whoever was bothering her at this hour of the morning would just have to deal with it. She decided that as skimpy as the nightgown was, it was better to leave the blanket behind, she was so tired that in her half-awake state she was bound to trip all over it as she walked. She threw it to the floor. This had better be an emergency, or whoever is at the door is going to become an emergency, she thought.

Slowly she unlocked the door and opened it a crack, peering out to see who it was interrupting her sleep. She made a little noise of surprise when she saw Harry standing there. He smiled apologetically when he saw her. He looked as though he'd gotten even less sleep than she had. Traces of scars were stills visible on his face and purplish circles underneath his eyes.

“Hermione, I am really sorry for waking you up. I just had to see you and talk about what's going on. I just couldn't sleep, and I know this is rude, but I had to see you,” he told her apologetically. Hermione sighed and opened the door the rest of the way, gesturing for him to come in. He smiled weakly and came inside. His eyes widened as he got a better look at her, his face flushing instantly. Hermione felt her own face get red and turned to shut the door; at least Harry didn't seem to mind what he saw. When she turned around, she noticed that Harry looked a little more distressed than he had when he had first arrived.

“Is Ron still here?” he asked uncomfortably, nervously shifting his weight from one foot to the other. She frowned, her expression darkening.

“No, Harry. Of course he's not here. I know you may have seen him go home with me from the wedding, but that was only because he insisted on making sure I got home safely. He doesn't know yet. I couldn't deal with any more emotional confrontations, last night so I didn't say anything. However, I am sure Ginny told him when he got home after dropping me off.” She crossed her arms across her chest, her expression unreadable. She was a little hurt that Harry had implied that she would be so quick to forgive Ron.

“I didn't mean to imply anything to upset you. I was just under the impression that Ron lived here with you,” Harry explained quickly. “I know what you mean though, about not wanting to deal with it last night. I said nothing to Ginny, although she has to know that you would tell me right away. I didn't want to cause a scene at the wedding anyway,” he added. Hermione nodded. If she wasn't mistaken, he had looked very jealous as he talked about Ron and her living together. She felt her face color again.

She felt a little foolish for not guessing that Harry would think that she lived with Ron. After all, the day he had come back, Ron had been over, and she and Ron must have seemed like a fairly close couple. Poor Harry had most likely figured that they had been together since not long after he'd left. What she was wearing probably was probably helping Harry's imagination along as well. Harry probably figured it was a gift from Ron that she wore to be when she was with him at night.

“No, no. We definitely weren't living together at any point. Call me old fashioned, but I'd probably like to be engaged before I move in with someone,” she said uncomfortably. “We haven't been together all that long either,” she added. Harry looked very relieved. She managed a weak smile.

“Well Harry, now that we have that cleared up, shouldn't we talk about what's bothering us both and what led you to come knock on my door so early in the morning? Um, let's sit down.”

Harry followed her to the living room. Hermione quickly scooped an armload of books from the couch. He smiled as he watched her, grabbing a few to help her out.

“Sorry about that,” she said, taking the remaining books from him.

“Hey, my place looks like a crowd of Hogwarts students went trampling through,” he said. She laughed and they both took a seat.

“So, how are we going to handle this?” she asked bluntly. Harry shifted uncomfortably next to her.

“I don't really know, Hermione. This whole thing is such a mess. Ron was our best friend, after all. I don't see how things could stay the same between us after this. What he and Ginny did was terrible. I can't even stand thinking about how things would have gone if Ginny hadn't admitted it all to you.”

“We should go over there and talk about it, the four of us. It's the only way. It will be uncomfortable and horribly taxing emotionally, but it's got to be done,” Hermione said decidedly. He nodded in agreement, his expression solemn.

“Let, me just get ready and have some coffee. Feel free to fix yourself something while I get dressed and things. I don't have much at the moment. There might be some bread for toast or something though,” she told him, getting up from the couch.

“Thanks, but I don't feel that hungry. I'll fix the coffee for you.” He smiled. “Besides, what's wrong with what you're wearing now?” he added cheekily. She rolled her eyes and took off upstairs.

As she set about getting ready, she felt more and more nervous. Being with Harry, now that she wasn't furious with him, felt so much like the old days. Things still felt so up in the air with him though. He had loved her two years ago, and she was sure that he still did, but did he know how much she loved him? Now maybe wasn't the time to say something, but she had to clear things up soon.

***

A few hours later Harry and Hermione both Apparated to a point near to the Burrow. Ron and Ginny were still living at home. Their other siblings were long gone and the two didn't mind the free food.

“I hope Mrs. Weasley isn't the one who answers the door. That would be so awkward. I mean what are you supposed to say to, `Hello, dear. How are you and Ron doing?', when the answer is, `Oh, fine. He and his sister have just been lying to me the past two years about Harry leaving. But, other than that everything's just lovely',” Hermione said, voicing her worries aloud quite animatedly. Harry cracked a smile at her spot-on impersonation of Mrs. Weasley, even though it clearly wasn't a good time for laughter.

“Yes, it will be completely awkward, but at least we have nothing to feel guilty about,” Harry reminded her. Hermione nodded, chewing her lip nervously.

They stopped at the familiar entrance of the Weasley family's home, a place where they usually felt welcome and at ease. At the moment, they were on edge. Hermione rang what appeared to be a doorbell. It looked the work of Mr.Weasley who must have gotten the idea to install one from seeing such a thing on a Muggle home.

The door swung open a few moments later to reveal Ginny. She was very pale and looked as if she had been crying not long ago; however, she seemed far from surprised to see them. And if she was taken aback, she was hiding it well. She cast her eyes to the ground, clearly uncomfortable, but gestured for them to come in.

“Thank you,” Hermione mumbled reflexively. She forced her mouth to twist into a polite smile. Harry stood quietly at her side.

They could hear Ron going on about something in the next room, clearly still talking to Ginny who had left to go answer the door.

“Ginny, where did you - ?” Ron was saying as he walked into the room, halfway through a question for his sister, when he spotted Harry and Hermione standing there.

“I was answering the door,” Ginny said her voice strained. “Oh,” Ron replied stupidly, clearly much more caught off guard by the presence of his two best friends, or at least not succeeding in hiding the surprise he was feeling. He glanced tensely back and forth between Harry and Hermione for a moment, and they guessed by the culpable look on his face that Ginny had filled him in on what his best friends now knew about his hand in all of this.

“Um, let's go sit outside for a little bit. I'll bring out some water for us,” Ginny suggested after a few agonizing moments of uncomfortable silence. Ginny took off quickly for the kitchen and Harry and Hermione followed Ron out back (though they certainly would have known where to go on their own). Hermione looked around and noted that Mrs. Weasley didn't seem to be home. She was relieved in way, as she really didn't want any more members of the Weasley family to get mixed up in this.

Harry took a seat next to her outside. She fidgeted anxiously in her chair, looking down at her folded hands in her lap, anything to avoid Ron's face. Unfortunately for her nerves, he decided to sit across from her. Ginny came outside to join them shortly. There was a tray of water-filled tumblers magically hovering ahead of her.

“So, are we going to dodge around this whole thing for another hour, or should we just deal with it?” Hermione said, trying to keep her tone even as she addressed the uncomfortable group.

“Hermione, Harry, I just want to let you know how terribly sorry I am,” Ginny burst out before anyone else could speak. Her expression was replete with genuine anguish. She clearly wasn't putting on show of false contrition.

“Really, I know I didn't seem it last night, Hermione, but I feel so wretched about what Ron and I did. It was wrong, but I was hurt that Harry had left no note saying goodbye to me, and that for all those years I had been clinging to the idea that Harry belonged with me. When I saw it in writing, it just made it painfully clear that, as I'd guessed, he really loved you, Hermione. Ron figured you loved Harry in return, and like me, he didn't want you to be with Harry, so I told him we should hide it, burn it. But I didn't have the heart to destroy it.” Tears were now running down her pale face, leaving a red trail. She took a quivering breath before continuing. “I am so sorry. I thought maybe if Harry had a reason to forget about you, he'd realize he loved me. When he came back, and I saw how hurt he was after fighting with you, I knew that my little plan was falling apart. I know I no right to expect to you to forgive, but I just wanted you to know, and you too Harry, that I really wish I'd never read that note and kept it from Hermione.”

Ginny buried her face in her hands, sobs wracking her body. Hermione blinked, rather astonished by the depth of Ginny's remorse. Last night she had seen Ginny as a conniving, unforgivable young woman, but now she could not help but feel sorry for her. It hurt to not have the person you love, love you back, but it didn't erase the pain she'd caused herself and Harry. Ron looked rather strange, his face a combination of guilt and pain. His pallor was rather greenish, as well.

“Yes, but you still did it Ginny, and Ronald. No matter how sorry the two of you are now. What you did was low and cruel. You both played with people's lives and emotions. What if I'd found all this out too late, it could have destroyed my friendship with Harry forever, and I'd be stuck in a relationship with a back-stabbing liar! I bet you would have even let me go as far as marrying you, Ron, and never said a word to me!” Hermione raged, her face reddening as she spoke. Ginny looked away.

For the first time since they'd arrived, Harry spoke. Today he was the composed one, despite his characteristic quick temper. His voice was tight, as though he was holding back the urge to yell as Hermione had just done. “Ginny, I am sorry if I somehow led you on concerning us. I never loved you as more than a sister; I realized that after the short time we were together in school. What you and Ron did still hurts like hell though. You two were our friends - we felt we could trust you, and you betrayed us,” Harry said sadly, his eyes flashing with anger.

“Harry, I can't say it as well as my sister, but I really am sorry as well. I know I can be jealous, especially of you, and well … I felt like Hermione was just something else, well someone else, that you'd have that I didn't. But it was more than that. I was sure that I was in love with her, and when Ginny suggested the plan, it sounded so perfect. It doesn't excuse what I did, but as bloody foolish as it was, it was out of love for Hermione,” Ron explained remorsefully. Hermione made herself meet his eyes as he spoke, despite the two siblings apology she still felt a simmering anger.

“I was furious with you both last night, still am really, and even though I understand your twisted reasoning, I am still so hurt that you could let me believe what I did about Harry. Especially you Ronald; he is your best friend! I just don't know how to set things right between the four of us again, ever,” Hermione cried. Ron grimaced, looking away. Harry reached over and tenderly squeezed Hermione's hand.

“I realize you can't really trust us anymore, and for good reason, but I don't want this to tear the three of you apart. I often envied how close the three of you were at Hogwarts, and I feel more to blame than Ron for all of this. I don't care if you don't forgive me, but I don't want this to ruin the three of you,” Ginny said firmly, holding back tears as she spoke.

The three best friends looked around at each other uncomfortably. Harry's hands were tightly clenched into fists, his mouth pursed in anger.

“I just don't know about that. Maybe after some time has past, we could get together or something. Get to know each other again because what you did makes you seem more like strangers to me. I really don't want to see either of you anytime soon,” Harry told them, his expression cold. Ron and Ginny looked crestfallen.

“So, you might forgive us then, at some point?” Ron asked hopefully, trying to find something good in the situation.

Hermione frowned, “What you both did hurt me so much, and of course Harry, and I can safely say that I will forgive you both at some point, but not today. You just can't expect instant forgiveness, what happened was terrible, but even with Voldemort gone, things are still so uncertain. I realize your apologies were sincere but they don't buy you instant forgiveness. I don't want to carry this grudge to the grave, but it will take time to trust you both again.”

Harry looked uncomfortable and Hermione felt her heart stop for a moment at the thought of how much danger Harry was probably still in. Though Voldemort was indeed dead the world was still full of dark magic, and it had become news recently that Voldemort's followers were not going to give up the fight.

“I feel the same as Hermione,” Harry said firmly. “What you two did, was nearly unforgivable.”

Ron and Ginny exchanged nervous looks and nodded solemnly. Hermione sighed, feeling exhausted and angry. At least things had worked out better than she'd expected, though she still felt a knot of resentment in the bit of her stomach. Things between two old friends were destroyed forever. She still felt unsure of what was going on as far as Harry was concerned. Did he still love her? Oh well, that could wait until tomorrow at least.

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Disclaimer: Canon Harry Potter is not mine, unfortunately. If it was Deathly Hallows would have turned out the way I wanted ;)

A/N: As usual that you so much to LydiaCarol for improving this chapter and saving you all from reading one full of silly mistakes.

I apologize for taking so long to update. The new book sort of took over my life since it came out; I got caught up in reading and then talking about the book that I really wasn't focused on writing. I promise that the next chapter will be posted fairly soon!

Chapter 7 - And I Love Him

Hermione sat curled up in a chair near the fireplace reading a book, House Elves: Serving Wizards across the Centuries. She had never given up her fight for what she felt were mistreated, magical creatures of the wizarding community. It was a stormy night and she enjoyed the sound of rain falling against her window. It gave her a serene feeling, and she was enjoying her much-needed night of peace. A soft knock on her door startled her. She put her quill, which she had been using to make notes in the margins, between the pages to mark her place.

She padded with sock-clad feet across the floor to the front door, half-expecting it to be Harry come to see her. After confronting Ginny and Ron the other day, he'd taken her home, but they really hadn't said much. She had been hoping for more, even an `I still love you'', but nothing. It had upset her at the moment, but she told herself, he'd probably wanted to give her and himself some time to think about everything before broaching the topic of where they stood. Her heart gave a little thump as she gripped the door handle. Nervously she unlocked and open the door. It was Ron. She frowned at him, her expression changing from nervousness to annoyance.

“Ron, I really don't want to see you tonight or anytime soon. Please just give me some peace,” she told him, trying not to loose her temper. She put her fingers to her temple and pressed them along the side of her forehead, feeling a headache forming.

“Hermione, this is really important or else I would have respected your wishes and left you alone,” he told her weakly. She noticed as she spoke that he looked rather ill and, well, as though he had been crying. He stepped further into the light from her home spilling out through the doorway, and she gasped at his altered appearance.

“You're scaring me, Ronald. What's going on? Has anything happened to someone in your family?” she asked quietly, her stomach beginning to twist and churn in apprehension.

Ron bit his lip, his face suffused in anguish. “No, Hermione, it's…” His voice cracked and he paused a moment to gather his emotions. She saw the knuckles of his hand clutching the doorframe go white as he gripped it harder for a moment. “It's Harry. He's been attacked by a group of former Death Eaters. It's not good. He's been working with Aurors to help track down all of Vol-voldemorts followers, and he and a few others were badly injured,” he finished, biting his lip, clearly struggling to stay in control of his emotions.

“What do you mean?” Hermione asked dully, feeling suddenly numb, the reality too awful to be fully comprehended at first. This had to be some horrible nightmare, or a hurtful lie on Ron's part. She clutched the doorframe as her knees threatened to buckle underneath her. Ron moved closer and offered her a steadying hand. She shook him away. “Please tell me that this isn't real,” she pleaded. Her expression was one of utter anguish. Ron shook his head sadly, wishing he could tell her that it wasn't.

“Hermione, I know this is really hard, but you have to believe me. You have to be strong. I know you probably don't want to be around me any longer than you have to, so I asked my parents to come along and bring you to St. Mungo's, where they'll be bringing Harry shortly. We can't Floo or use a Portkey, as security is really tight right now. The Ministry is afraid that other people are going to be attacked, and someone like you, close to Harry would be high on a Death Eater's priorities. We have a well-protected Ministry car,” he told her slowly. He wrung his hands together uncomfortably; his face was still very pale. His eyes blinked rapidly as he watched her and waited for a response. Hermione stood in the doorway still, her expression now a mixture of fear and pain.

“So, Harry is still alive, Ron?” she whispered, a lone tear escaping her burning eyes and slowly falling down her cheek.

“Yeah, he is,” he replied simply.

“We-we…have to go see him then, now, please,” she insisted in a quivering voice.

He took a hold of her arm and this time she didn't resist his help. Mr. and Mrs. Weasley were standing out in front by a car as promised, holding a large umbrella over their heads to shield them from the heavy rain that was still falling. The storm, which had seemed so pleasant before, now only served to add to the dark feel of the night. Hermione could immediately see that Mrs. Weasley had clearly been crying for quite a while, her cheeks splotchy and her nose red. Ron's father looked far more composed, but seemed just as upset as his wife in his own quiet fashion.

“Hello, Hermione,” Mr. Weasley greeted her politely, his tone somber. She attempted to force the muscles in her face to form a weak smile. With Harry's life in peril, she didn't feel like smiling again anytime soon. She took his proffered arm and sat down in the car. The Weasleys all climbed in, quickly closing all the car doors. Mrs. Weasley sat in the back next to her, sniffling rather loudly and occasionally glancing over at her sadly and patting her hand. Hermione briefly wondered if Ron's parents knew what their children had done.

“Hermione, I want to let you know that we informed the staff at St. Mungo's that we're coming and that you are to be the first to see Harry after they're done treating him,” Mr.Weasley informed, looking back at her in the rearview mirror. “Right now, they are still at the scene of the attack, and Harry may still be, though I hope they have gotten the poor boy to St. Mungo's by now.” Hermione's eyes widened.

“We have to go there first, the site of the attack I mean!” she demanded. Mr. and Mrs. Weasley exchanged worried glances.

“I really don't think that's wise, Hermione dear. Even if they let us near, there's no way you'll be able to get within a few feet of Harry,” Mrs. Weasley explained weakly. “We came as soon as Arthur was told about the attack. Harry is surely at the hospital by now.”

“No, he's not. I know it,” Hermione told them, completely certain that she was right about this.

“Just take her there,” Ron told his father firmly, not looking back at Hermione. Mr. Weasley opened his mouth, about to argue the subject, but another look from Ron and he stayed silent.

“All right then, Hermione. I must warn you: this isn't going to be easy to deal with. They didn't give me much, but from what I have been told, Harry really is in bad shape,” Mr.Weasley informed her.

“But Arthur!” cried Mrs. Weasley, clearly not convinced that telling all of this to Hermione was a good idea at all.

“Molly, please. It's Hermione's decision. It's the least we can do for her after how badly she's been hurt by our family,” Arthur rebuked her, his tone somber. His wife sniffled slightly and dabbed at her eyes with her handkerchief, but said nothing more on the subject. Ron looked down at his hands, which were folded in his lap.

Hermione leaned back in her seat and closed her eyes, trying to mentally prepare herself for what was ahead of her. Whatever happened tonight Harry wasn't going to die. He couldn't die just now; especially not after all he'd been through in his short life span.

The car finally pulled up to a rather empty, un-cared for field between small forests of trees. Hermione could see many official-looking wizards running all around.

“Thank you, thank you, Mr. and Mrs. Weasley,” she said quickly as she out of the car before anyone could stop her. Hermione scanned the field as a soft rain still fell. A couple of wizards walked past with another wizard floating on a stretcher between them, but it wasn't Harry. She made a strangled noise of disappointment and frustration, as she scanned the faces around her. In the distance she saw a group of wizards kneeling on the ground. It was Harry, she knew it.

Hermione ran towards where she saw Harry prone on the ground bearing the signs of a battle that had taken place not long before. The wet earth was marked with the traces of errant spells and curses, some of which had been intended to hit Harry. Her throat was chocked by a sob. She felt as though she was making no progress, her feet catching in the mud as she neared Harry. It felt very much like being in an awful dream, but this reality was something she felt even her wildest imagings couldn't produce. Her best friend could be dead, and she had never worked things out with him. She'd been fooled, had let herself be manipulated into doubting him and hurting him. And now he could be dying without knowing that she loved him, loved him more than she knew was possible.

Ron and his parents ran after her, trying futilely to catch up with her. They knew she was not her rational self or even remotely close to being calm. The other Aurors and Ministry officials on the scene probably wouldn't appreciate any kind of unneeded commotion, especially if it hindered helping the victims of the attack. Ron stopped for a moment, a realization hitting him solidly in the chest with the staggering impact of a punch. Hermione loves Harry; she's always loved Harry. It had been useless to try to get her to love him through lies and deceit. They had cost him the girl he loved, as well as her friendship and Harry's. Ron stood and watched her run towards Harry, away from him, knowing she was doing so in more ways than one.

Hermione pushed away the crowd of people gathered around Harry without a second thought, ignoring their angry protests.

“Who do you think you are, young lady?!?” one man objected angrily.

Hermione knelt down next to Harry; she tenderly brushed strands of damp raven hair from his pallid face. The hazy moonlight cast an unnatural glow on the scene of destruction and death around them. His face was covered in small cuts and bruises. His body was stained with blood elsewhere, but it was hard to tell the extent of his injuries. One wound looked very much like the spell she'd been hit with in the Department of Mysteries years ago, and she hoped very much that it wasn't- it had nearly killed her.

“Oh, Harry,” Hermione whimpered, her voice breaking. With a trembling hand she gently felt for a pulse, and the slight flutter of life under her fingertips gave her hope.

She tenderly put his head in her lap, carefully stroking his unruly hair. Hermione talked to him quietly. She knew she must seem mental to everyone else witnessing the scene, but she couldn't have cared less. She felt that if Harry could hear the voice of someone he'd known for so many years, it might give him the motivation to hang on.

“Harry, why do you always have to get yourself hurt? Poor Madam Pompfrey probably never healed any student more than she did you at Hogwarts,” she whispered. Thoughts of their days at Hogwarts caused her tears to flow even faster.

“Oh, Harry,” she sobbed, “I should have told you so long ago how much I love you. You were a friend to me when no one else was, and I always loved you and I still do.”

She felt hot tears fall from her eyes and down her cheeks. As she bent over Harry, a few of them dropped onto his upturned face. His eyelids fluttered weakly. Hermione held her breath, as she saw them slowly open. Never had she been so happy to see that pair of emerald eyes looking at her.

“Harry!” she breathed.

“Potter's alive!” she heard a man nearby yell. A group of wizards came rushing over, and she felt someone take hold of her arm, pulling her away from Harry. She turned to see it was Mr. Weasley.

“Please let me go, I need to be with him,” she demanded, fiercely trying to escape his grasp.

“Dear, I know it's hard, but you have to let them take him to St. Mungo's now that they're sure that he's alive. If you delay them, it could put Harry's life further in danger. I promise you that the moment they finish treating him, you will be the first to know,” he assured her calmly. Hermione stopped struggling and watched them take Harry away. Soon he was out of sight. Mr. Weasley kept his grasp on her arm and walked her back over to the car. She sat quietly back in the car, where Ron and his mum were sitting. Ron looked as though he'd just been ill and Mrs. Weasley didn't look much better. She was crying softly, and every other minute blew her nose loudly.

“We'll just be off to St. Mungo's then,” Mr. Weasley announced. Hermione stared straight ahead at the back of his head as they drove to the hospital. She was overwhelmed by the pain she was feeling at the moment. Her insides ached with pure agony, and her head hurt from crying so hard moments before. She felt herself wishing for that numb feeling again, the way she'd felt when she'd first heard the news.

Upon reaching St. Mungo's all four of them quickly piled out of the car. They stood in front of the familiar window display of rather ugly mannequins. “We're here to see Harry Potter,” Mr. Weasley announced loudly to the one in front of him. Hermione followed behind as he stepped through the glass window.

She stood in the reception area with Mrs. Weasley and Ron, as Mr. Weasley went up the front desk to ask for the floor to which Harry had been assigned.

“Follow me,” he instructed them as they waited for a lift to the fourth floor.

“Harry has already been assigned a room. I was told that we would be allowed to wait outside the door for him, until the Healers had an update on his status for us,” he explained as the lift doors opened.

Hermione nodded weakly in response. Time had never passed more slowly than it did as they stood outside Harry's room. Finally an older woman in bright green robes approached them. Her expression was unreadable.

“Hermione Granger?” she asked, scanning the group of people standing in the hall.

“Yes?” Hermione managed. She clasped her violently trembling hands together.

“Mr. Potter was badly hurt tonight; in fact it's a miracle he is still with us. We have done all we can to aid in his healing process, but the rest is up to him and his body. I don't want to give you false hopes, but if he makes it through the next few nights, he should make a full recovery. Right now he's in a magically induced coma, but he should wake up from it within the hour,” the woman explained kindly, looking down at her notes from time to time as she spoke.

“Thank you, thank you so much!” Hermione told her, beaming at the Healer.

“You may go in to see him now,” the Healer added as she walked away, off to care for another patient.

Ron felt sick with guilt from what he had heard just how close Harry still was to death.

“Hermione, I - ” he began, but stop as he met her cold stare. Perhaps now wasn't the best time to tell her how sorry he was once again.

Hermione moved to open the door and felt herself freeze as her hand touched the handle. She had seen Harry already, so she wasn't going to be shocked by his condition, but she had to stop for a moment to gather herself. Seeing him lying there in the bed, looking deathlike, would be difficult. Finally she twisted the knob and went in. None of the Weasleys said a word; they stood respectfully out in the hall, giving Hermione time alone with Harry at first.

Her hand flew to her chest as a sob caught in her throat. Harry was in awful shape and yet he had never looked more handsome to her than he did at that moment. She walked slowly over to the side of the bed and knelt down next to him. Her shaking, slim-fingered hand reached out to touch his. She pressed his cold hand to her face, as tears began to fall once again.

“Oh, Harry,” she breathed.

She got up from her knees and sat down on the bed. Carefully she rested her head against his chest for a moment, listening to the steady rhythm of his heart. It was the most beautiful sound in the world.

“Harry, I love you so much. I wish you knew. I wish that I hadn't put off telling you, and I wish that I could be sure that you still love me. But most of all, I just want you to live,” she whispered in his ear, her eyelashes fluttering against his face.

Hermione sat at the edge of his bed, watching his sleeping face intently, and waiting for the moment when his eyes would open. She would sit there all night if she had to. The Weasleys popped in for a quick moment, but left sensing it would be best to visit when Harry was more stable.

It was getting late and Hermione felt her eyelids getting heavy. She was emotionally and physically exhausted, but she wouldn't let sleep take her. Suddenly she felt Harry's hand squeeze hers, which she still had intertwined with his. She jumped. H was to full consciousness, looking up at her.

“Oh, Harry! You're awake!” she said, beaming at him. She resisted the urge to hug him tightly, too afraid of hurting him.

Harry blinked slowly and smiled weakly up her.

“I knew you'd be here,” he whispered, his eyes glowing. “You've always been there.”

Hermione smiled and cried tears of joy. “Oh, Harry,” she sighed and kissed him on the forehead.

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Chapter 8 - All the Way

A/N: Okay, so first of all, a warning…this is the chapter that lives up to stories R rating. I don't think is extremely explicit, but you guys have been warned ;)

Sorry, for taking a bit with updating. I'll stop blabbering so you guys can get on to reading the chapter.

Thanks as always to my fabulous beta LydiaCarol!!!

Disclaimer: Canon Harry Potter is not mine, it all belongs to JKR.

When somebody love you, it's not good unless he love you all the way.

Hermione refused to leave the hospital at all the first night Harry spent there, even after being told several times that visiting hours were over. Stubbornly refusing to leave, she eventually fell asleep bent over Harry's beside in a chair.

She finally submitted to Mr. Weasley's plea to go home and take care of herself. She had spent almost two days at St. Mungo's without showering and hardly eating anything at all. Harry had been slumbering most of the time that she was there; often put into a magical sleep by the Healers in order aid the healing process. This hadn't deterred her from staying by his side. She had insisted on being there, so that he could see her and talk to her when he wasn't sleeping peacefully.

Neither Ron nor Ginny had yet come to visit Harry. Hermione guessed that they were trying to be respectful of her feelings, despite how little they had cared about her emotional well-being in the past.

On Harry's third day in the hospital Hermione heard a soft knock on the door of his room. Wearily she looked up, her gaze meeting two very nervous freckled faces. Ron attempted a smile.

“Mind if we visit with Harry for a bit?” he asked, taking a step forward into the room, hands in his pockets. He shifted his weight back and forth nervously as her watched Hermione's face, waiting for the answer.

She leaned over and gently shook Harry's shoulder. “Would you like some company?” she asked him softly. His eyes slowly opened and he looked around to see who else was in the room. The expression that crossed his features was indecipherable, but he nodded calmly.

“Not my first choice, but they'll do,” he answered her with a wry smile. Hermione grinned. She turned to Ron and Ginny, the smile melting away quickly.

“I'll give you guys some privacy,” she said, getting up from the chair next to Harry's bedside. “I'll be back,” she whispered to Harry, gently squeezing his hand before leaving the room. Harry's eyes followed her out the door.

Ginny elbowed Ron sharply in the ribs, urging him forward. He glared back at her, but approached Harry's bedside.

“Hi, mate. How are you? Still feeling like rubbish?” Ron asked, his voice filled with genuine concern.

“No, I feel great, you foul git,” Harry responded with a smile that Ron gratefully returned.

Ginny appeared at Ron's side, beaming at Harry. His expression darkened slightly when he saw her. Not that Ron hadn't been just as responsible for the mess between him and Hermione, but it had been her idea, and he was still having a hard time forgiving.

“Harry, I'm so glad to know you're doing so much better,” she said kindly. Awkwardly she patted his hand. He resisted the urge to jerk his hand away from her touch.

“Thanks Ginny,” he replied stiffly.

The two Weasleys stayed with Harry a few more minutes before leaving.

Ron lingered a moment and Ginny stood at the doorway, giving him space.

He looked very solemn as he leaned over and whispered into Harry's ear, “I realized during this entire thing how stupid I was to even try and make Hermione love me. The night you almost died she was a wreck. I've never seen her like that, and it was bloody terrifying really. So don't mess up okay? I made a right mess of things as it is, so don't question whether or not she loves you, because she does.”

Harry nodded and gripped Ron's hand and their eyes met. They understood each other at last, seeing in each other's eyes how much each of them cared about the bushy-haired witch waiting out in the hall.

Hermione saw Ron and Ginny exit the room together. She nodded at them as they walked past her on their way out.

Hermione had insisted on having Harry stay with her his first week home from St. Mungo's despite his claim that he would be fine at his own place. After almost loosing him, she felt uneasy letting him out of her sight. The events of the past week had shaken her. She still didn't know where things stood with her and Harry. She knew that he loved her, but she was unsure if he knew the depth of her feelings for him. She had whispered to him several times at the hospital how much she loved him, but she'd been unable to get the nerve to tell him when he was awake.

They ended up getting home from the hospital rather late and both decided to head to bed, despite Hermione's insistence that Harry should eat something first. He, however, had told her that he wasn't very hungry and that she could use some rest herself. Being dead tired she had given in.

Now, however, sleep didn't want to come. She tossed and turned under the covers, which had become tangled around her legs as a result. Sighing heavily she looked at the patterns the moonlight was making on the wall as it shone through the curtains. She closed her eyes, trying to clear her mind. Sleep still wouldn't come though. She got out of bed, sliding her feet into a pair of slippers, and walked out into the hallway. Maybe some warm tea might help.

As she passed Harry's half-open door she paused. She could hear him moving around restlessly in his sleep, the springs of the mattress squeaking slightly. She quietly pushed the door open, feeling the urge to check on him. She hated that he was still plagued by nightmares; she had been herself lately and had discovered how horrible they could be. Impulsively she entered his room, forgetting all about a snack.

The moonlight was not as bright in his room, but a beam of silvery light was illuminating his handsome face. Slowly she walked over to the side of the bed and tenderly brushed some strands of hair away that were stuck to his sweaty face. She gently shook him, wanting to wake him up from the nightmare he was trapped in. His eyes flew open and he looked up at her worried face.

“Hermione,” he whispered, seeming embarrassed that she had witnessed him in the middle of a horrible dream.

Hesitantly she leaned over, resting her hand on his chest. She could feel his heart scrambling wildly beneath her palm.

“Are you okay?” she asked anxiously. “I couldn't sleep. I heard you moaning and I wanted to see how you were doing. I was worried you were in pain.”

Harry smiled, but grimaced as the smile stretched a healing cut on his face. “Don't worry about me Hermione. I'll be fine, I swear.” She smiled feebly back at him, but felt a tear escape as she thought about how she'd almost lost him.

“Oh, Harry …” she began weakly, the tears building in her throat preventing her from continuing.

He grabbed her arm, gently pulling her in one swift motion onto the bed and into his arms. Hermione forgot her tears and what she had been trying to say, surprised by Harry's actions but far from objecting to them. Harry moved closer to her, pulling her into an embrace. Sighing contentedly, she rested her head on his chest. They lay like that quietly for a few moments; she didn't want to speak, fearing that words would end the moment. She could feel Harry's warm breath on her face and the heat from his body, which gave her a strange but wonderful feeling.

She drifted off for a moment, waking up as she felt his lips press against her forehead, and then her cheek, and then her neck. Hermione heard herself let out a soft gasp of surprise and delight. Her eyelids fluttered as he continued. When she looked up at him, he leaned closer and pressed his lips to hers urgently. She clung desperately to him, thankful they were lying down, as her knees surely would have buckled if they'd been standing at that moment. She ran her slender fingers through his raven hair, soft despite being still damp with the cold sweat from his nightmare. The dark strands felt amazing beneath her fingertips, like she had dreamed they would. Harry pulled away for a moment. Both of them took a second to catch their breath.

He looked at her questioningly but said nothing. Hermione stayed silent as well, giving him wordless permission to continue. Maybe this was wrong, but maybe for one she didn't care about doing the right thing.

Harry kissed her again and then moved his mouth along her neck, down to the hollow of her throat. She felt herself melt under the touch of his lips, her body silently begging for more. Slowly he moved her onto her back, then gently rolled over and rested his weight on top of her. The contact of his body against hers was electric; she could feel all of him through her rumpled nightgown. His heart was pounding as hard as hers; she could sense it against her chest. She stirred slightly underneath him, enjoying the new sensation of his body pressed against hers. Harry moved his mouth back to hers, the kiss deeper than before.

Hesitantly he pulled up her nightgown. Hermione helped him move it up the rest of the way and off, wordlessly urging him to continue. She tenderly kissed his forehead with her warm mouth, moving her hands to his back. Curiously she ran her fingers over the rippling muscles of his back, then his chest. Harry shivered with pleasure at the contact. He began to explore her body tenderly with his hands. His touch was amazing. She never wanted him to stop. A strange sort of cross between a sigh and a moan escaped her throat. She looked up at Harry, but he seemed not to care and actually appeared rather turned on by it.

She felt his hands on her hips as he went to remove her panties. Her heart leapt in her chest, but she had no reservations about what they were about to do, none at all. She was glad that the room was dark enough that he couldn't really see her face, as she was sure she was turning bright red at the moment. This was her first time, though she wasn't about to tell him. He probably assumed she had been with Ron, and she didn't want to make him unnecessarily apprehensive. She and Ron had been close several times, but she'd always held back. Looking up at Harry, she smiled. Perhaps in her heart she had always meant for this to happen with Harry.

With slightly trembling hands she reached out to divest him of his boxers and remove the final barrier between them. Harry gently grasped her hands and helped her slide them down past his narrow hips.

They both paused a moment; in the silent darkness their heavy breathing seemed abnormally loud. Hesitantly she opened her legs, urging Harry forward. After a few moments of awkward attempts he was making love to her. It hurt a little when he first began, but not for long. Harry seemed far from a practiced lover and thankfully was being slow and careful. Never had she felt so content, and so glad that she had waited to share this part of herself.

She clung to him, her fingers digging into his shoulders, as the two of them became more comfortable with the feeling of each other, and they fell into an easy rhythm. Both were breathing very quickly. After a few minutes she gasped as an incredible sensation began to course through her body.

She felt his warmth fill her, and Harry slumped forward onto her. Tenderly she reached up and laced her fingers through his sweat soaked hair, and he smiled down at her. Gently he rolled over and she crawled into his arms. He kissed her sweetly on the nose, and beamed down at her, tired but content.

“Hermione…um, I was your first time, wasn't I?” he whispered nervously.

Hermione rested her head on his chest, listening to the beating of his heart contentedly.

“Yes,” she admitted softly.

Harry hugged her tightly.

“I'm sorry if I hurt you. I um, really haven't done this before either,” he admitted with a blush.

Hermione looked up at him tenderly, trying to hide her surprise. With Ginny as a girlfriend she'd have figured that he'd at least had a little experience.

“You've made this the most amazing night of my life, Harry. Don't apologize for it,” she admonished him softly.

The worry in his face vanished.

“Harry, I don't want to freak you out, but I have wanted to tell you something for years. I told you before you went to the hospital when I thought you were dying, but I doubt you heard me … it's just that I - I love you” she exclaimed hastily. She closed her eyes afraid of his reaction.

Before she opened them, she felt his warm breath and he was kissing her passionately.

“Hermione, I love you too. I always will,” he said breathlessly after the kiss ended. “I wanted to tell you before I left, but I didn't think it would be fair to you, and I knew I couldn't say no to you coming along if I you were to tell me that you loved me too. So, I told you in the note, as you know, but I should have told you again the night you read the note that I still felt the same as I did the day I wrote it. ”

“Oh, Harry, it broke my heart to see you go. And then we never really talked about how things were going to be between us. I feel like we lost so much time together for such stupid reasons,” she cried.

“It will be okay, Hermione. At least we're not being idiots about this anymore,” he said with a laugh.

She grinned and snuggled back against him. Harry sighed contentedly, and they fell asleep in each other's arms.

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