A/N - this is the chapter you've been waiting for (I think) - two more chapters and an epilogue (always have to do an epilogue now!!) so not long to go. Hope you enjoy. Oh, this is rather long - sorry!
Chapter 10 - Crossing the Line
"What a load of absolute bollocks!" Harry fumed as he stepped out of the floo and into Grimmauld's kitchen, barely noticing Hermione setting the table for dinner, "unbelievable!"
"Something wrong, Harry?" she needlessly asked as he ripped off his cloak and threw it into a pile in the corner just as Ron stepped out of fireplace - Harry ignoring both his friends.
"I can't believe that git!" he continued to rant, his bag joining his cloak on the pile, "I'm barely out of school!"
"What's going on?" Hermione asked, watching Harry pace.
"Smith asked Harry to lead a team…" Ron tried to explain but Harry cut in angrily.
"Hughes and O'Dougal are twice my age!" Harry spat, sitting down heavily in his chair at the table, Hermione joining him, "they've been there for ages! I don't believe this!"
"Smith basically said it was because…" Ron told Hermione as he too, sat down at the dinner table.
"…I'm Harry bloody Potter!" Harry supplied for Ron, "the saviour of the bloody wizarding world! But that doesn't mean I have a clue - I know bugger all! Neville is better qualified to lead this mission than I am!"
"So, what happened?" Hermione asked, directing her question more to Ron than Harry, thanking Kreacher for the food that he just served up.
"Harry said no, Smith said he didn't have a choice…" Ron started, beginning to eat when once more, Harry cut in.
"So I told Smith to stick his bloody mission and his bloody job…"
"You quit?"
"Smith wouldn't let him," Ron answered between mouthfuls as Harry glared at his plate as if the food had caused him some sort of grave injustice.
"I hate my job," he grumbled, then as an after thought, "and then…"
"There's more?" Hermione quizzed, glancing between Harry and Ron.
"Oh yeah," Ron smiled, "this is good."
"Ms Agatha Murphy-bloody-Hughes comes and tells me that I have to do a speech at this stupid bloody Victory Ball," Harry continued as if he hadn't heard Ron and Hermione at all, "I told her that I didn't want to and she said I had to so I said that you two had to do one too…"
"…and I said bugger that," Ron put in with a frown, "there is no bloody way I'm doing a speech."
"…yeah, I forgot to thank you for you support, Ron," Harry muttered, shoving a Brussels sprout into his mouth.
"What good would I be, giving a speech," Ron cried in defence, "it would look brilliant, me standing there, going a fantastic shade of red then mumbling thanks because I can't think of anything else to say. You and Hermione are better at speech giving than me."
"Right, because speech giving is something I do," Harry shot back.
"You can do it a lot better than I can," Ron countered.
"For goodness sake, I can do the speech," Hermione cut in, exasperated, as she finished her dinner.
"Brilliant," Ron grinned, leaning back from his empty plate, "all sorted."
"Really?" Harry asked, looking over the table at Hermione.
"Sure," Hermione shrugged, "it will be good practice for me because soon I'll have to do presentations and such to groups of people for work. I'll ask Dotty to give me constructive criticism afterwards so I can learn from it. But…" she paused as she looked at both Harry and Ron, "you two are helping write the speech and will both be on stage with me. Harry, I think you will still have to say something because it's really you people have come to hear…"
"Do I have to?" he whined and Hermione rolled her eyes.
"Yes you do," she told him, "we'll sit down and work out the speech, well, this weekend I guess since the Ball is Saturday week. I'll come up with some ideas to get us going…"
"Sounds like a plan," Ron nodded, "now all we have to do is stop Harry killing Smith and life is good again."
"Is it really that bad?" Hermione asked both boys.
"Yes," said Ron.
"Yes," grumped Harry at the same time.
"Why?"
"Oh, come on Hermione," Harry spat, sitting upright in his seat, "you know Smith. To him, I'm perfect, I can do no wrong…"
"That's true," agreed Ron.
"…even when I balls up, it's usually someone else's fault. The bloke's like Lockhart plus some! He only got the job as supervisor because everyone else was killed!"
"But you've been there for nearly a year now…" Hermione frowned, "you've been learning heaps…"
"Enough to lead my own team?" Harry growled, "I don't think so. He won't listen to me though, and the others are starting to resent me for it!"
"True," Ron nodded, getting a glare from Harry for his troubles.
"Have you tried talking to him…"
"Yeah," Harry interrupted, suddenly leaning back in his chair and closing his eyes, "but to be honest, Smith isn't the only problem. I hate it there."
"Hate it?" she echoed, "you hate being an Auror?"
"Yeah."
"You could always quit," Ron suggested, getting another glare. Hermione got up and got them all a butterbeer, Harry's eyes moving from Ron to her as she walked to the cooler and back to the table.
"Quit?" he looked back to Ron, "and do what? There's nothing else I can do - I can't quit!"
"Why not?" Ron asked with a shrug, "you hate the job so find something else. Blimmey Harry, there's heaps you could do! Play Quidditch for a living! Sell brooms! Do nothing but pose for magazines! Heaps!"
"Well, that's just being stupid," Harry grumbled, glancing to Hermione for confirmation that Ron was talking bollocks.
"Actually, I agree with Ron," she said instead causing both boys to look at her in shock, "though perhaps not those exact occupations."
"You agree with me?" Ron repeated with such surprise that it was almost comical - Hermione ignored him and turned her attention to the stunned Harry.
"If you hate being an Auror, Harry, then quit," she stated, accentuating her comment with a sip from her drink, "I don't quite see you posing for magazines for a living, but the world is your oyster, you just need to find out what kind of work you enjoy doing!"
"I can't…I can't just quit!" Harry continued to splutter, "besides, Smith won't let me! I mean, I basically told him to shove his job today and he laughed in my face!"
"That's because you didn't mean it," Ron told him, getting another bottle of beer, "he can't actually stop you packing it in."
Harry thought about it a bit longer and realised that part of him really, really wanted to walk away. He had enough of fighting the bad people of the world and added to the fact that everyone expected him to be brilliant at it didn't help. They only thing that had stopped him going mental was that Ron, Neville and Seamus were there with him.
The other part of him, however, was telling him he didn't know how to do anything else. His whole life has been spent fighting Voldemort and he had to admit (if only to himself) he did seem to have a natural flare for getting himself out of tight situations - what other job could use those particular skills?
The truth was, he was ideally suited to be an Auror.
"I know you think that being an Auror is all you are capable of being," Hermione ventured, breaking into his thoughts (and reading his mind), "but that's not true at all."
"She's right," Ron agreed, "anyway, you don't even have to work since you're filthy rich! Take a holiday! Go overseas and see the world! Have some fun - Merlin knows you deserve it."
"Holiday?" Harry dumbly repeated.
"Yeah," Ron continued, "why not?"
Why not indeed? Harry thought hard.
"I've never been overseas," he said absently.
"More reason to go," Hermione put in, excited, "what a brilliant idea!"
"Come on Hermione, you're just teasing me now," Ron deadpanned, "acknowledging that I had two brilliant ideas in one conversation?"
"That's because you're not really as thick as you think you are," Hermione told him with a frown, "I've been telling you that for years."
Ron was so stunned by her comment, he just sat staring at her - Harry filled in the slack.
"I can't go alone, though," he smiled, looking at his two friends, "if I go away - you guys would have to come with me."
Immediately the mood in the room changed.
Hermione looked away quickly, flushing with embarrassment - Harry mentally kicked himself for his insensitivity. And his stupidity.
It had been five months since he first thought that Hermione meant more to him than just a friend yet nothing between them had changed. They had visited the Tonks' home quite a few times over the months with Teddy's first birthday a real affair. It had been a joy for Harry to watch Hermione gain more and more confidence whenever she spent time with the baby boy and it really did seem to be when she was truly at peace.
Which didn't make Harry's thought process any easier. Often at night he debated with himself about what he was feeling and whether it was real or not. It took him a long time to realise that it was and that he needed to tell her.
But he didn't.
He was waiting for the right time. For a sign to tell him that it was right, which, he knew, was stupid since he already knew how she felt. And he knew it was selfish of him to continue to hide because the idea of him confessing to her scared the hell out of him - so much for the famous Gryffindor courage.
So in the meantime, he found himself watching her, enjoying her company and on some nights, even fantasising about her.
He really was quite pathetic.
Hermione, in the meantime, was oblivious and continued to remain the best friend she could be. Her transformation from the broken young woman back all those months ago was quite dramatic. Her smile still didn't reach her eyes with her nightmares continuing to haunt her now and then, and there were also times where she retreated into herself when things got a bit too much - but she was stronger and more capable than ever.
And now, because his relationship with her was so comfortable and familiar, he goes and asks her to go away with him, not thinking at all about how it would make her feel.
Idiot.
"I…I don't think that's such a great idea, Harry," she said tentatively, "why don't just you and Ron go?"
"'Cause we'll drive each other barmy," Ron put in before Harry could say anything, "you have to come, Hermione, because if you don't then I won't which means Harry won't and my brilliant idea won't happen."
Harry stayed silent and watched Hermione cautiously. She was deep in thought, chewing her bottom lip endearingly. Suddenly, she looked up at him and Harry knew this was the sign he had been waiting for. He could see her love for him in her eyes, but he could also see her fear. She stared at him for a moment longer until finally, her face softened and she smiled.
"Well, I'll have to come along then," she finally answered, looking at Ron, "I know I'll regret it but…" she shrugged, "how long shall we go for?"
"Luna's home in two months," Ron grinned, "I wanna be around for that."
"That's really sweet, Ron," Hermione smiled and Harry chuckled to himself.
"Why don't we go as soon as possible," Harry suggested and Ron's face lit up.
"Yeah," he agreed, "we could go on Saturday! You can quit, Harry, and I'll tell Smith that unless he lets me have a holiday, I'll go as well! It'll be brilliant!"
"And then we can travel the world until the end of June!" Harry continued, excited, "Hermione, you could use your 'friend of Harry Potter' card to get some time off work - I know you don't like to, but…"
"We can't leave on Saturday," she stated firmly.
"Why not?" Ron asked with a frown.
"Because we have to go to the Victory Ball," she carried on, glancing between the two of them, "I have a case that I have to close before I can go anywhere and we don't even know where we're going!"
"Good point," Ron nodded, "so Harry - where do you want to go?"
"I don't know," he shrugged, "I haven't really thought about it."
"Oh!" Hermione exclaimed, jumping up from the table, "I have an idea! Why don't I meet you two in the drawing room in a moment. Ron, bring some more butterbeers!"
And with that, she was gone leaving the two bemused boys in her wake. After a moment of stunned silence, they both stood in unison.
"Bet she's gone to get a book," Ron said as they went to the cooler.
"I think that's a pretty safe bet," Harry smiled, taking the bottles Ron passed him.
"Surely she can't have a book on how to have a holiday?" Ron continued with a frown. Harry just smiled as they made their way out of the kitchen when Ron added, "you nearly messed that up, mate."
"What?" Harry asked, knowing exactly what Ron was talking about.
"What were you thinking? Asking Hermione to go away with you?"
"I wasn't thinking," Harry sighed, his shoulders sagging, "and thanks for talking her into coming."
"It was the truth," Ron shrugged, paused, then said, "when are you going to tell her?"
"Tell her?"
"How you feel." Harry stopped and stared at Ron.
"What do you…"
"Come on Harry," Ron grumped, "I live in this house with you two and, as Hermione has just pointed out, I'm not that thick. I see how you are around her, how you look at her. You're gone, my friend."
"I know," Harry sighed again, slumping against the wall in the stairwell, "and I am going to tell her, I am. Maybe even tonight."
"Good," Ron nodded, "come on, she'll be waiting." He started to walk up the stairs and after hesitating for a moment longer, Harry followed.
They entered the drawing room to find Hermione already in there, sitting in front of the coffee table where a large book was placed.
"What took you two so long?" she asked as they came and sat down.
"Just chatting," Ron answered casually, taking a beer and collapsing down into a chair, "see, I told you she'd have a book."
"What's this?" Harry said as a reply, still grinning at Ron's comment as he sat down next to her on the floor.
"It's an atlas," she replied proudly, opening it with a flourish, "it was a present for my tenth birthday! It has a brilliant map of the world in it so you can look at all your options on where you want to go!"
Harry already knew where he wanted to go but decided to hold back that little bit of information as his two friends started to discuss excitedly about the various destinations. He joined in, debating the positives and negatives of some far away locale with gusto but it wasn't until they reached the Pacific that things started to get serious.
"Blimey, I didn't realise just how far away Australia is!" Ron exclaimed, peering down at the large island near the bottom of the map - Harry was watching Hermione carefully. Talk about her parents was pretty much non-existent but that was soon about to change.
"It takes about twenty-four hours to fly there," she told Ron quietly.
"So, what are the pros and cons about Australia?" Harry asked as normally as he could.
"Well, a con would be it's so bloody far away!" Ron supplied helpfully.
"It's winter there at the moment," Hermione offered, her eyes downcast.
"But the pros are there's so much to see," Harry argued, "and the fact that it is the other side of the world makes it exciting. Plus, your mum and dad are there, Hermione."
"That's not a pro, Harry, and you know it," she growled, glancing at him briefly.
"You should see them," he said gently, "you need to set things right."
"I can't," she whispered, "I can't fix it."
"Yes we can."
They looked at each other then, and Harry could see how scared she was.
"I think Harry's right," Ron added before standing, "but I'm going to bed and leave you two to talk about everything," he looked pointedly at Harry. Harry gave the slightest of nods, which Ron seemed to accept because he then said his goodnights and left.
"What's going on, Harry," Hermione asked as soon as Ron had gone.
"I think you should see your parents and give them the choice," Harry replied unwaveringly.
"I've taken their choice away, remember?" she spat, "they're dead. They can't come back."
"After everything we've been through," he carried on, more gently this time, "after everything you've seen, do you really believe that we couldn't find a way to be able to bring your parents home?"
"No."
"Hermione," he smiled softly, scooting over to where she was now sitting on the couch and taking her hands in his, "nearly ten months ago you showed up on my doorstep devastated because you had sacrificed your family. Why aren't you jumping at the chance, the opportunity, to get them back?"
"Because," she whispered after a pause, her eyes filling with tears.
"Because why?"
"What if they don't choose me?"
Her voice was so quiet, he nearly didn't hear her but when she began to cry, he quickly drew her in his arms and held her tight.
"How could they not choose you, Hermione?" he told her quietly, "you're their daughter."
"But I've been so horrid…"
"One thing I've learned about families," he continued, pulling away from her and holding her face in his hands, using his thumbs to wipe away her tears, "is that they would die for those they love. My parents did it, Remus and Tonks did it and even Mrs Weasley took on Bellatrix to save Ginny. Your parents love you and I know they would do anything to continue to be part of your life. You just need to give them a chance."
They were so close he could see nearly every freckle on the bridge of her nose. She was so beautiful, all he wanted to do was kiss away her tears. Instead, he waited and after a moments pause, she gave a small nod of acceptance.
"You're right," she smiled weakly, "I need to give them a chance. When did you get to be so smart?"
"I've been hanging around you too long, I think," he smiled back - but then words escaped him. Her eyes were still shining with tears yet they were looking at him with such intensity he couldn't speak.
And then she kissed him.
It felt like his head exploded with a multitude of amazing sensations and when the kiss quickly intensified, he was lost. His hands were in her hair, holding her to him while she began running her hands up and down his back, leaving trails of fire in their wake. Their tongues had found each other, exploring mouths with unbridled passion, making their kiss heated and intense. When she straddled him, her fingers starting to unbutton his shirt, his body reacted accordingly making him suddenly aware where things were going.
"Hermione," he groaned, tearing his mouth away from hers and pushing her back slightly - she continued to undo his shirt, "Hermione, stop."
"Please," she said, her face flushed as she looked at him with wide, beautiful eyes - all traces of her tears now gone, "please, give me this Harry."
She began peppering his bare chest with kisses yet he was determined to fight off his desire to ensure she knew where her actions would take them.
"But…" he managed to strangle out and she paused again.
"I know all the arguments," she breathed to him, "I know, Harry. I don't care."
With that she ran her tongue over his nipple, making him moan involuntarily and all his resistance was gone. He pulled her face back up to his and kissed her passionately before starting to kiss down her neck.
In the small part of his brain that wasn't consumed by what he was doing, he felt her take something from her back pocket and he felt the now familiar feeling of being pushed through a tube. He became aware he was on a bed and when Hermione pushed him backwards, he recognised it was her room. The thought that it was pretty incredible she was able to Apparate at this point of time, when he was finding it difficult just to think straight, passed through his mind before he allowed himself to concentrate solely on the beautiful woman in front of him.
The feeling was like nothing he had ever experienced before and as he lay there with Hermione in his arms, he couldn't quite believe that it had happened. He had just had sex. And his first time was with Hermione. She had felt so good, he hadn't lasted long and she hadn't reached the same level of pleasure as he had but he thought, with a stupid smile, that next time he would make sure she had the same experience.
Next time.
He hugged her in tighter.
"You don't have to stay," she said after a while and Harry frowned.
"What'd you mean?" he asked, looking down on her.
"I…I realise that…er…this means a lot less for you than it does for me," she continued hesitantly, "and that it changes nothing…"
"Hermione," Harry began, leaning on one elbow so he could see her properly, "this changes everything."
"No, it doesn't," she told him firmly, "when I kissed you, I knew that for you it was just sex, that it wouldn't change how you felt about me. I knew that! But I have dreamed about you for so long, wanted you for long that when you were looking at me like you were…"
"How can you think that what just happened between us meant nothing to me?" he frowned, "that I would just use you because I know how you feel about me and I wanted…I don't know, a shag or something? How could you think I would do that to you?"
"Oh Harry, that's not what I meant!" she cried, "it's just that…I instigated it and I know you would never…"
"I can say no, Hermione," he stated calmly, "I did with Ginny and if I really didn't want to do this with you, I would've stopped it."
"You…you wanted to be with me?"
"Yes," he replied, putting a strand of her wayward hair behind her ear. He knew this was the perfect time to tell her just how much he felt; that he had been dreaming about her as well - but she looked so beautiful, laying there with her hair haloing her head on the pillow, her bare shoulders enticing him to what he now knew lay under the sheets and her eyes watching him with such love and care.
So instead, he kissed her slowly and gently, loving the way she felt when he rolled her onto her back and he hovered over her. He was ready again, but this time he wanted their lovemaking to be about her. He started to explore her body with the touch of both his mouth and his hands, finding out the places that made her gasp or groan. Her skin was so soft, her smell so intoxicating that he was quickly lost in her once more.
When he reached her core, exploring that too with gentle touches, he felt her pleasure beginning to build and it wasn't until she cried out with the most beautiful cry that he let himself be satisfied, entering her and allowing his release as any thought of holding on was impossible.
He fell asleep then, Hermione spooned into him - her regular breathing telling him that she too, was now sated. His nightmares stayed away so that when he woke, he felt the most refreshed than he had for quite a while. Sun was streaming through the windows, telling him it was quite late, but he didn't care. Rolling over in Hermione's bed, he went to look at her and tell her what he needed to.
But she wasn't there.
Jumping out of the bed, he hastily dressed, made his way to his room - showered and then dressed again. He stopped in the rooms he thought she may be in as he made his way downstairs, but the library and drawing room were also empty. When she wasn't in the kitchen either, he ran an exasperated hand through his hair and called out for Kreacher.
"Master Harry!" the house elf exclaimed in obvious surprise, "the Miss said you were unwell!"
"I'm fine…"
"You were not to be disturbed," Kreacher continued, "is Master sure? The Miss was quite adamant!"
"I'm sure," Harry assured, "look, Kreacher - where's Hermione?"
"She's at work," Kreacher informed him, "she went with Weasey…"
"Work?" Harry repeated dumbly, relaxing somewhat. He had totally forgotten it was Tuesday and theoretically, he should be at work as well.
He still needed to speak to Hermione. Grabbing some floo, he was all set to head off but found his way blocked by his house elf, who was scowling dangerously up at him.
"Master must eat before leaving the house!"
Sighing, Harry sat down and waited to be served. While a meal of pumpkin soup, fresh bread and various cut cheeses was put before him, Harry tried to work out what he was going to do. He needed to see Hermione and make sure she understood how much things had changed between them because he got the impression that she thought things were still the same.
He had to do something about his job and resigning was the option he was going for.
And he needed to start planning the trip to Australia.
Polishing off the soup, he was allowed to leave and quickly made his way to Hermione's floor.
"Harry!" he was welcomed as he walked out of the lift, "Hermione isn't here!"
"Er, do you know where she is, Dotty?" Harry asked the friendly woman who was well used to both Ron and Harry visiting Hermione over the past months.
"She's at Umbridge's trial," Dotty answered with a frown, "I thought you'd know that."
Harry mentally kicked himself. Of course he knew Hermione was at the trial, it had been going on for nearly six weeks now and was finally at the last stages. Harry himself had been involved at the early sessions, even as a witness, recalling his torture at the ex-professor's hands during her stint at Hogwarts. Dolores Umbridge's trial was long and complicated and something Hermione had been involved with from the very beginning.
Of course she was there.
"Right," he muttered, "I forgot."
"Is everything alright?" Dotty asked, coming closer, "Hermione was a bit flustered as well…"
"Was she?" Harry asked before he could stop himself then blushed furiously, "er, no, everything's fine. Thanks Dotty."
He quickly left the floor, quietly pleased that at least Hermione was a bit out of sorts as well. Hopefully it was in a good way. The elevator told him he had reached level one, and with a deep breath, he made his way to the Minister's office.
Harry very rarely used his 'Saviour of the Wizarding World' status and instead tried hard to be treated like everyone else. But today he decided it was time collect a couple of well deserved favours.
The floor wasn't as busy as it was directly after the war, but the large boards listing all the work to be done were still there as were a small group of workers still organising the restructure. Harry ignored them all as he made his way to the Minister's personal assistant, hoping that Shacklebolt was in his office.
"Hello, Mr Potter," the friendly woman greeted, her name badge telling Harry her name was Mary.
"Hi Mary," he smiled and noted that she actually flush a little, "is Minister Shacklebolt around?"
"He is, but not for long," Mary told him as she stood, "I'll see if he can spare some time."
Harry waited as she went into the large office sitting behind the desk and let out a sigh of relief when he was told he could enter. After hearty welcomes, Harry told the Minister that he was planning to resign, that he would be available if there was any major trouble and that he was going to be heading away for six weeks with Hermione and Ron. It was here he asked for his favours, seeing if Kingsley could pull some strings if either Hermione or Ron's bosses won't let them go.
Kingsley assured him he would.
Glad that was sorted, Harry now made his way back to his own office, making a beeline for his cubicle. He started to pick out his personal belongings from the manuals, books and parchment that cluttered his desk - grabbing a blank piece of parchment and writing his letter of resignation on it. That done, he went to find Ron.
His friend wasn't in his cubicle and neither was Neville. Seamus, however, was and after his initial surprise that Harry wasn't in fact sick, told him that Ron, Neville and some others were out but were expected back in half an hour.
Harry nodded then made his way to his supervisor's office, handing his stunned boss his letter of resignation (as of immediately) then made his way back to his cubicle to wait. His boss, Smith, unsuccessfully tried to talk Harry around, even pleading with him with promises of 'what ever he wanted.'
Ron arrived during this time, and ignoring his now ex-boss, Harry grabbed Ron and dragged him down the corridor into one of the interrogation rooms, securing it with a wave of his wand.
"You saw Hermione this morning, right?" Harry fired at Ron.
"Yeah," Ron frowned, "did you just quit?"
"Yes," Harry answered, "what was she like?"
"Just a minute," Ron carried on, his frown deepening, "you just told Smith to stuff it then drag me off into here straight after a mission to discuss Hermione? You'll get me fired!"
"Smith would be mental to fire you straight after losing me," Harry told him absently, "it's not going to happen. Besides, I saw Kingsley today to make sure you get your time off and he's going to make sure you do without any hassles. You'll be fine. So, what was she like?"
"Who?"
"Hermione!"
"Oh," Ron crossed his arms suspiciously, "why?"
"Don't push me, Ron," Harry hissed under his breath.
""Okay, okay," the redhead grinned, holding his hands up in defeat, "she was fine, I guess. A bit preoccupied but I didn't think too much of it what with everything going on…"
"Did she seem upset…or…or happy?"
"What's going on, Harry?" Ron asked, leaning against the wall, "did you talk to her?"
"Not exactly."
"Well, what happened?"
"I slept with her."
"Slept with her."
"Yeah."
"I…I don't understand," Ron continued hesitantly and when Harry glanced at him, he could see the tell-tale sign of redness tipping his ears, "when you say, 'slept with her', do you mean, like, falling asleep on the couch or something?"
"No," Harry sighed, sitting down on one of the chairs, "no, I mean I slept with her."
"You two had sex?" Ron exploded, advancing on Harry, "I don't believe this! Did you tell her how you felt? Did you tell her you love her?"
Harry dipped his head into his hands and said nothing.
"You do love her, don't you?" Ron growled, leaning over the table at Harry.
"I…I don't know," Harry answered truthfully, jumping back when Ron shoved the table angrily at him.
"That's not the right answer, Potter," Ron growled menacingly, "Hermione is not some slag you've picked up for a quick shag!"
"I know that!" Harry growled back, standing so he was now face to face with his friend, "bloody hell, why does everyone think that I just go around having sex with anything that moves! I do have some restraint you know!"
"Really? Because you've got a shite way of showing it!"
Harry was ready to tell Ron that he showed that restraint when it came to his sister but quickly bit his tongue as the two of them glared at each other.
"What happened last night happened because I care for her - why can't you see that?" Harry bit out.
"Because you've never told her what's going on with you," Ron gritted, "you've known she loves you for months now and you broke up with Ginny last year - you've had plenty of time to tell her how you feel! And now…now you've…I don't believe this!"
Ron shoved the table once more before turning his back on Harry and pacing the room. Harry stood straight and sighed.
"I don't regret what happened last night, Ron," he said, "but I know I should've talked to her first - I was going to but, well, it all got out of control and then she had gone by the time I woke up this morning. I…I think she's really unsure about where things stand with us now and I want to make that right but I don't know what to do."
"Do you love her?" Ron asked, still facing the wall.
"I don't know," Harry replied, shaking his head, "I honestly don't. I know I want to make her happy and that I can't imagine my life without her in it. I know that I see her in my future. She's the most important person in my life."
"You plonker," Ron humphed, finally turning around, "what'd you think love is? What you just said, how you are around her, how she is with you - that's love, mate."
"You think so?"
"You need to tell her," Ron said in a way of reply, no longer angry.
"That's why I'm here," Harry stated, making his way to Ron, "how can I fix this?"
Ron thought hard.
"You probably should do something romantic," he finally suggested.
"Romantic?" Harry repeated, "like what?"
"You're asking me?" Ron muttered, sighing when Harry nodded, "I dunno. That book says girls like flowers and candlelit dinners and stuff like that…"
"Book?"
"Yeah," Ron smiled, "remember? I gave you a copy for your seventeenth birthday. 'How to Charm Witches'. It was really good, got me Hermione…" he chuckled slightly, "and you got her without having to read the book. I can't believe how thick I am sometimes."
"Right," Harry continued, ignoring Ron's self-musings, "I could do her a nice dinner with candles and stuff. What'd you think?"
"Sure," Ron shrugged, "I'll stay at mum and dad's tonight, give you the place to yourselves."
"Thanks, Ron."
"Yeah, well, don't balls it up this time," Ron grumbled as Harry gave him a friendly whack on the back, the both of them heading for the door, "I still can't believe it. You and Hermione…now there's a mental image I never want to think about."
Harry just laughed and left his friend to head back home. He told Kreacher what he wanted to do and while the elf started cooking a lovely meal, Harry prepared formal dinning room ready for Hermione's arrival.
At five-thirty, Harry was in the kitchen, nervously watching the hearth. When it sprung into life, he jumped up, wiped his sweaty palms onto his trouser legs and waited for Hermione to step out of the floo.
She looked nervous when she saw him there, as well as a bit surprised, but she gave him a small smile as she brushed some soot from her robes.
"Hi," she greeted.
"Hey," he replied, "er…how was your day?"
"Busy, what with the trial," she answered, "you?"
"Well, I quit today so that was something different."
"You quit?" and suddenly, all the awkwardness was gone. She began to bombard him with questions, making sure he was alright with his decision while he steered her towards the dinning room. She thought they were heading to the drawing room, their normal haunt, and questioned him when he directed her in a different direction.
When he opened the door, the room was lit softly by candles, the table set for two with a huge bunch of red roses sitting in the middle. He heard her gasp so he turned to her and saw her hiding her mouth with her hand.
"I…I thought we might do something special for dinner," Harry offered.
"Oh my," she cried, "Harry, this is beautiful."
"Would you like something to drink?" he smiled, feeling slightly more confident as he took her hand and led her to the table, holding the chair out for her as she sat down, "we have wine, if you like."
"That would be lovely," she breathed, "just a little though."
Harry poured the wine and then sat, Kreacher arriving with their meal within seconds afterwards. Harry asked Hermione about her day and soon the conversation was once more relaxed and familiar. It wasn't until the meal was nearly over that he knew it was time to have the conversation that he should've started the night before. He waited for a quiet patch, took a deep breath and spoke.
"Hermione," he ventured, "er…I think we should talk about what happened last night."
"I agree," she sighed, glancing at him as she fiddled with her half drunk wine glass, "I'm really sorry, Harry."
"Sorry?" Harry frowned, taken aback, all other thoughts disappearing, "what are you sorry for? Do…do you regret it?"
"Oh Harry," she smiled, moving closer to him and taking his hands in hers, "how could I regret something that I've been dreaming about for years? But, well, I guess that's my problem. You've known how I've felt about you for nearly a year now and I've tried so hard to get past that so we can continue being the friends that we always have been but last night that all went terribly pear shaped…"
"You do regret it!"
"No, I don't," she told him, "please, let me try and explain," pausing, she looked at their hands as she got her thoughts together, Harry waiting with his heart going a million miles an hour, his eyes never leaving her. After a moment, she looked back up at him and smiled, "yesterday was just so…barmy! I had spent the day at the trial defending you against accusations from Umbridge as she tried to get herself out of twenty years in Azkaban. She kept firing insults and innuendo's about you at me, trying to paint you in a bad light and herself as the protector of all that is good. Stupid old cow," she paused again at the memory, then carried on.
"When I got home, I was all worked up but when you burst out of the floo like you did, I totally forgot what she had gone on about. You were so angry but you were also so alive with a passion and fire that's been missing for so long. You were the Harry I had fallen in love with.
"Then the talk turned to the holiday and you got more excited, which was brilliant. It all went wrong when you said you wanted to go to Australia."
"Hermione…" he interrupted but she ignored him and continued talking.
"It upset me - talking…talking about my parents always does - but when you looked at me, quite frankly you were pretty much irresistible…"
"Irresistible?"
"Your eyes, Harry, they're, well…" she chuckled slightly and dropped her gaze for a moment then looked back at him, "you have amazing eyes. Anyway, I realise that I really didn't give you much choice and that I've probably messed things up between us…"
"Didn't you hear me tell you last night that I wanted it to happen?" he interrupted again.
"Yes I did," she smiled, "but I know you Harry Potter. You would say that to spare my feelings. Like I said, this changes nothing…"
"And like I said, this changes everything," Harry cut in, moving even closer to her, "Hermione, last night I was going to tell you that my feelings for you have changed, that I've finally realised just how important you are to me and that my life would be empty without you in it. You are everything to me - everything.
"What happened between us was amazing - our whole relationship is amazing! You are amazing and it should be me apologising to you for not realising that a lot sooner."
"What are you saying, Harry?" she asked shyly.
"I'm saying - asking - if you'll go out with me?" he told her, wiping away the lone tear that was making its way down her face, "will you be my girlfriend?"
"Yes," she breathed, making him smile and kiss her gently, a wave of relief surging through him.
"I have one more question," he said, resting his forehead on hers so they were eye to eye.
"What's that?"
"Will you go to the ball with me?"
It sounded funny to him, saying the same words he had said to Cho a lifetime ago but this time he was saying them to Hermione. This time there was no awkwardness and although there was still a slither of fear she would say no, the moment she smiled at him, he knew that wouldn't be the case.
"I'm already going to the ball with you," she grinned cheekily.
"I mean as my date," Harry emphasised with a smile of his own, "so, will you?"
"Well, since I'm now your girlfriend, I guess I have to," she joked and he actually laughed.
Harry kissed her again, this time deeper and more passionately. It wasn't long before hands were everywhere and sitting on two dinning room chairs was getting rather cramped.
"I think," Harry ventured breathlessly between kisses, "that perhaps we should go somewhere more comfortable."
"My room?" Hermione replied, "I have to go to work tomorrow…"
"Your room then," Harry agreed, helping her stand while still kissing her furiously. Suddenly another thought popped into his mind, making him blurt, "protection!"
"Sorry?" Hermione asked, pulling away from him and looking at him quizzically.
"Er…when I asked Ron for advice…"
"You asked Ron for advice about us?" she interrupted with a grin.
"Yeah," Harry admitted, "and he mentioned…um…protection against…well…you getting…er…"
"I take a potion, Harry," she assured him, "I have been since before the Horcrux hunt."
"Why?"
"Well, I was going who knows where with two blokes who have trouble understanding the most basic workings of a female," she explained as she led him out of the dinning room and up the stairs, "I assumed that retaining my monthly cycle during that time would be…uncomfortable for all of us. So I started taking the potion which allows me to control my cycle. Did you actually think I would have sex without making sure I was protected?"
"No, not really. But I must admit, when Ron pointed it out…"
"I'm not too sure how comfortable that you've been discussing our sex life with Ron Weasley," Hermione continued, opening her bedroom door, "where is Ron, any way?"
"At his parents," Harry told her before capturing her once more in a furious kiss, "I don't want to talk about Ron any more," he said huskily.
"Fair enough," she breathed, slipping off her blouse and for a moment Harry had no coherent thought at all until she grabbed the front of his shirt and pushing him onto her bed, "from now on, it's all about you, Harry."
And Harry was quite happy with that decision.