A/N - sorry its taken so long to update but real life definitely got in the way, plus I was hooked into a really good story on PK, plus this had the fewest reviews I've ever gotten BUT the reviews I did get were all positive so thank you very much! Hope you enjoy this bit…
When I wake, there is brilliant sun peeking through the gap under the curtains, telling me that it's well into the morning. A glance at my watch proves it when I see that it's ten o'clock. Knowing we were planning on leaving at eleven, I quickly gather my things together, absently telling myself I really need to unpack properly, and head to the bathroom. Cleanly showed and shaved I go downstairs and when Hermione isn't in the kitchen, I grab a banana from the fruit bowl and go to the lounge where I see her - her back to me as she typed furiously away at her computer, the soft sound of some music coming from the stereo at her side which she was humming along to. I lean against the door jam and watch her and once again feel this…wholeness. It's such a familiar sight, perhaps not in front of a computer, but her focus on the task at hand. The amount of times I'd seen her like that.
"Morning," I say eventually, and she jumps up from her chair and looks at me in shock, her hand to her chest indicating that she hadn't been expecting me.
"Harry!" she exclaims, "you're awake!"
"Yeah," I reply, making my way to her, "I guess I was more tired than I thought. Watcha doing?"
"Oh, school stuff," she demises casually but she looks uncomfortable for some reason. She pauses and I frown in concern as I recognise her look - she wants to say something but she thinks it may be something I don't really want to hear.
"What is it, Hermione?" I prompt and she looks at me, still chewing on her bottom lip. She then takes a deep breath and speaks.
"Look, Harry," she starts, and my frown deepens, "I…I just want to apologise if I offended you last night, you know, about the…sleeping around thing. I didn't mean to upset you and I know you're not the type but…"
"Hermione…"
"…it's just that the boys have been saying what they'd get up to if they were you and it all sounded rather torrid and you are a teenage male whose hormones often dictate you actions. Well, not you specifically but in general it seems teenage boys don't always think with their head. That is, their brain…"
"Hermione…"
"…and you were out on your own and you are rather a brilliant catch and well, girls can be very persuasive…"
"Hermione!"
She finally stops to look at me and once again she has this delightfully cute blush tinting her cheeks. I go to her and hold her arms, making her look at me so she can understand what I wanted to tell her.
"I'm sorry…" she starts but I cut her off.
"You don't need to apologise," I tell her, "I wasn't offended and I'm sorry that I made you think I was."
"You left in such a hurry…"
"I guess I did," I reply, thinking about it and realising that I did actually leave rather abruptly, "but it wasn't because of what you said. I was just tired and I wanted to go to bed."
"I feel so stupid," she groans, rolling her eyes, "jumping to the wrong conclusions - just like a typical girl."
"There is nothing typical about you, Miss Hermione Granger," I joke, pulling her into a hug, "and you know something, there's nothing wrong with being a typical girl either."
"Still, I shouldn't have thought…"
"Maybe, maybe not," I placate, enjoying the feel of her still secured in my arms, "and I shouldn't have been a git. Let's both just forget it and move on - deal?"
"Deal," she agreed, pulling away from me and looking up at me with a smile, "we better get going."
I nod, missing her touch already but we had plans and those plans meant a visit to The Burrow. We both finish getting ready and then Apparate to a spot just beyond the wards. I pull my cap further down over my brow in the hope I won't be recognised so my surprise arrival will really be a surprise. Hermione takes my hand as we walk closer to the back garden where Ron and Luna were lounging around, expecting Hermione's arrival.
Luna spots us first, indicating our progress to Ron, who stands and smiles. I'm guessing they think I'm a new boyfriend or something, my mind quickly trying to dismiss the pang of jealousy at the thought that Hermione had actually brought potential boyfriends here. Holding back a sigh, we continue walking.
It seems my disguise wasn't a particularly good one as I'm recognised pretty much as soon as we're close enough to see properly. I didn't care though as my arrival is welcomed with an enthusiasm that I can only associate with the Weasley's. Mr and Mrs Weasley join us in the garden and soon I'm telling them all about my travels with great gusto and before I know it, we've had lunch and dinner and it was dark.
I really didn't realise how much fun I'd had and how much I experienced travelling the world until I started telling my friends about it all. While there, exploring these new countries and cultures, I just did my thing and although I was having a brilliant time, it never occurred to me just how brilliant it was.
By the time Hermione and I head home, I had talked and laughed for hours - it had been great. I was meeting up with Ron the following day while Hermione visited her parents and Luna was off doing…whatever Luna does. As I lay down, ready for sleep, I couldn't help smiling. I hadn't realised how much I actually missed Ron until today and was looking forward to us catching up - just the boys.
For the second time in two nights I went to sleep with a smile on my face.
It was a brilliant sunny Sunday afternoon, Ron and I sitting on a couple of deck chairs in the square of lawn that is Hermione's back yard, ready for a bit of male bonding. I wait for Ron to start and he doesn't disappoint - in mere seconds, he starts to talk.
"So, what was it really like?" he asks, squinting into the sun.
"What do you mean?" I ask back, not too sure what he was getting at.
"Come on Harry," he continues with a smirk, "mum, Ginny, Luna and Hermione aren't here now, you can tell me the truth! The girls! What were the girls like?"
"Oh," I answer, now understanding, "they were…girls. We have them here in England too, you know."
"But they're not foreign here in England, you pillock," Ron tells me, sparing me a look, "I mean, sure, there are some good ones, like Luna. But she's special so you can't count her. You were out there, in the world, charming the pants off of them…"
"Why does everyone think I'm a bit of a…a slapper?" I grump, frowning behind my sunglasses.
"You're Harry bloody Potter!" Ron exclaimed with exasperation, "you could have anyone you like!"
"I travelled as a Muggle," I remind him, now smiling, "where I went, no-one knew me or my past or what I'd done…"
"Which I still think is mental," he cuts in, stretching his long legs out in front of him, "you're the darling of the wizarding world and you go off being a bloody Muggle."
"Which is precisely why I did it," I say, "and it was brilliant. I could just be me, not the Boy-Who-Conquered or whatever stupid title they have for me now."
"Still the Boy-Who-Conquered," he informs me and his smirk returns, "so you're telling me you go off on your own for a year, go all over the world and you didn't pull once?"
"I didn't say that…"
"So you did pull!" he cries, whacking me good naturedly on the shoulder, "I knew you couldn't spend all that time away and not get shagged at least once."
"Sorry to burst your bubble," I continue, also stretching my legs out in an attempt to get even more comfortable, once again noticing just how hairy my legs are (though I note I'm not as pale as Ron), "but I actually didn't get shagged at least once."
"What? But you just said you pulled?"
"I did pull," I inform my friend, "many times. But that doesn't automatically mean that I have sex with the girl."
"I don't get it," Ron continues, looking at me as if I was some weird creature or something, "you haven't had sex all the time you were away…"
"Depends on your definition of sex," I interrupt with a smirk.
"Bloody hell, Harry," he mutters, looking back out at the garden, "you're nearly twenty and you're still a virgin. Never saw that coming."
"Yeah, well, I have my reasons," I tell him and leave it at that.
"Those reasons don't happen to be surrounding a certain bushy haired witch, do they?" he asks me and immediately my heart starts beating ten thousand times a minute.
"What do you mean?" I ask back in what I hoped was a casual sounding voice.
"Oh come on, Harry," he scoffs, looking back at me, "I saw how you kept looking at her yesterday. And before you left, you were keen to get your leg over, experience life at its fullest. Now you're telling me that you didn't? There has to be reason and that reason is probably Hermione. Am I right?"
I didn't say anything but kept my eyes directed at the wall at the end of the garden as I debated with myself on what I should do. Should I tell Ron the truth? Should I actually admit the one thing that I've been hiding and even denying for a long time? He thankfully didn't give me a choice as he carried on talking.
"Right," he huffed, "so there wasn't any one? No beautiful, long legged, tanned, beach babes in Australia, or anything?"
"Well, there was one girl…" I begin, glad the conversation has moved away from Hermione.
"And…" he prompts.
"And, well, she was kinda special," I continue, smiling to myself at the memory, "her name was Sarah, she was a doctor from America…"
"A doctor?"
"Like a healer," I explain, "we met in Perth and got on really well."
"But not well enough to shag," Ron puts in and I scowl.
"It's not all about sex, Ron," I snap at him, "what I had with Sarah was deeper than that! We were planning on travelling around Australia together, we were really close!"
"Harry," he starts, turning in his chair so he can look at me directly, "you are a teenager - not only that, you're a teenage male! If this Sarah was like a healer, she must've been older than you…"
"Five years," I admit quietly.
"So you're in a foreign country, on your own with no adults restricting what you can or cannot do, seeing a woman who is five years older than you, who's American and probably beautiful…"
"She was."
"…and you tell me that you didn't have sex with her? Bloody hell, I started wanting to have sex with Luna pretty much the moment we started to snog…"
"Too much information, Ron," I groan, pause and then sigh, "it wasn't like I didn't think about it, because I did. And we got really close a few times. But something always made me pull back…"
"If you tell me it was because you saw Hermione's face when in the throes of passion, I think I'll be sick," Ron informs me in his over dramatic fashion, screwing up his nose. I say nothing because in a way, what he suggested was true. I wouldn't see Hermione's face, or the girl I was with wouldn't morph into Hermione or anything like that. But sometimes I would hear her voice telling me to take things slow. Or I would think of her at the most un-opportune time and it would ruin the mood. Ron picks up on my hesitation and guesses that what he told me was true, "ugh!" he cries, scrunching his face up in disgust, "mate, that's just wrong! Did Sarah know?"
"Yeah," I sigh again and slump down in my chair, "that's why we broke up. She was really good about it, you know, helped me actually begin to realise the reason why I didn't hook up with any one while I was away."
"So you do fancy Hermione, then," Ron states matter of factly.
"Maybe."
"Maybe," he repeats, frowning himself, "how can you not be sure whether you like her or not?"
"While I was travelling," I try and explain, trying to put into words what I've been thinking about for absolutely ages, "Hermione was my link back here, back home. Sometimes when I got really homesick, I would re-read her letters about what was happening and it made me feel better."
"Why didn't you just come back?"
"Because I had set myself a goal," I told him, repeating what I had told myself so many times over the last year, "I knew that if I came home, that would be it, that I would never get there again. And I wanted to see the world. And I wanted to give the world I knew back here a chance to forget me so that when I did come back, I could live a normal life."
"Mate, you can never live a normal life," Ron smiles at me and I cringe.
"Yeah," I concede, "but the more time I spent away the better the chance that everyone would just forget about me. The thing is, I really missed here, really missed home. And for me, Hermione was home."
"So you're scared that you fancy Hermione because of what she represents," Ron nods as he thinks out loud, "not because of who she actually is."
I stare at my friend in shock that he may have possibly worked out how I was feeling. He glances at me with a look that said 'what?' when I don't say anything.
"When did you become so astute?" I ask, grinning.
"Things have changed my friend, things have changed," he grins back and we both chuckle before he sobers and says, "so, are you going to tell her?"
"No," I answer immediately, my smile quickly disappearing, "not until I sort out everything out in my head."
"I think you should tell her," Ron fires back at me, returning to his original position of legs outstretched and hands resting on his belly.
"Tell her what?"
The voice comes from behind us and my head snaps around in horror to see Hermione standing in the door jam, smiling. I frantically wonder how much she's heard, whether my secret has been exposed before it should've.
"That he's grateful that you let him stay here," Ron lies easily, without missing a beat, "actually Harry, you can come to The Burrow now that I know you're here. There's heaps of room."
I watch Hermione's smile falter slightly, her eyes shifting between Ron and me, stopping on me as I continue to look at her. Something passes between us, an understanding that she didn't want me to leave and I didn't want to go.
"I'm pretty settled in here, now," I tell Ron as casually I can with my heart beating fast and loud. I stay looking at her as I add, "that's if Hermione still wants me."
"Of course I do," she replies and smiles once more.
So I stay and the routine of living together ends up being easy. On Monday, Hermione went back to work and I finally unpack and really settle in. By Wednesday I had visited my parents, Dumbledore, Hagrid and the graves of the others we lost, gone to see Fred and George at their shop, got spotted then nearly mobbed and learnt that Hermione loved pasta and a nice merlot.
We talked so much, that first week home, about everything and nothing. I thought after nine years of knowing her, I knew all there was to know about her - I was wrong. I found out about her childhood, I found out she actually had a great sense of humour when she wasn't constantly worried about me dying and I learnt her devotion to facts and books was in some way a defence mechanism when she felt she was losing control.
I think she learnt a bit more about me as well, as I relaxed a bit more as the week progressed. Like everything else between us, it was easy - friendly, platonic, and easy.
By Saturday, the day of the Victory Ball, I was in a good place. Waiting for her as she finished getting ready, I felt I could handle whatever was awaiting me, even though my appearance at this now annual event would tell everyone I was back. It scared the shit out of me, but I felt ready.
As I looked at myself in the mirror for the umpteenth time, smoothing down the collar of my dress robes, I chuckle at how a small gathering of friends for the first anniversary of the end of the War had now grown into a major event that included the who's who of wizarding society and is now organised by the Ministry. I missed last years, which is when the first part of the transition happened, and now - well, I'm standing in formal dress robes ready for a formal ball.
Which we were going to be late for.
As if reading my mind, Hermione rushes past my door in a flash of blue, ruffling material, shouting out to me to hurry up and get downstairs otherwise we'll be late. Muttering to Crookshanks how it was like it had been me keeping her waiting, not the other way around, I head downstairs only to find myself stopping in my tracks.
She looks absolutely beautiful.
Facing away from me as she dug through her small, beaded bag, my eyes trailed along her bare neck, exposed by her hair being pulled up in a bun-type thing, along her back to where her dress started, hugging her body tightly in a blue, soft material, until it got to her waist. There, it spread out into a flowy skirt that ended at her knees, her legs looking long and tanned with these delicate, strappy high heeled sandals on her feet.
I was still staring at her when she noticed I was there - and a whole new pile of sensations hit me. Her face was subtly made up; a touch around the eyes and lips. She had on a dainty chain with a pendant on the end, her earrings matching, both accentuated by her bare shoulders and little ringlets of hair that escaped her bun.
"Oh good," she says to me, slightly anxiously, "there you are. Oh dear, I've made us terribly late! But I'm ready now - you good to go, Harry? Good. Right, take my hand and I'll Apparate us to the agreed point outside Hogwarts. Harry?"
Through the fog that was my brain, I realise Hermione is talking to me and after agreeing to whatever she had asked me, she grabbed her robe, her bag, my hand and we were off.
It was a short walk from an Apparation point just beyond Hogwart's wards to the main gates but by the time we got there, there was a buzz preceding us to the castle. It wasn't long before that buzz of curious people recognising me turned into a crowd grabbing at me and Hermione, thanking us for what we had done. My main concern was keeping Hermione safe as the crowd began pushing into us but thankfully the Calvary came in the shape of the Weasley men, Neville and Remus. They quickly formed a barrier around us and escorted us inside, shielding us from the enthusiastic public.
When in the Great Hall, I greeted my friends properly and because there was always someone protecting me from the very scary people, I was able to actually enjoy myself. It was great seeing everyone again and I couldn't help but notice the difference between who they were when I left and how they are now - especially Neville, who was ready to start his second year at Auror training and was now confident and in control.
The night ended up being not too bad with me even dancing twice; once with Luna and once with Hermione. Ginny kept me at a wide berth though, which was fair enough. She was still hurting about our break-up even though it happened over eighteen months ago. Hermione told me not to worry about her, and I didn't.
It was good to see the Weasley's in general smiling again. They lost Charlie and Percy in the War, making the past years tough, especially for Mrs Weasley. But now she and Mr Weasley were showing us young ones how to move on the dance floor and as I stood between Hermione and Ron, watching them, I couldn't help but laugh.
We started planning my birthday - or should I say, everyone else started planning my birthday (which was a couple of weeks before Ron and Luna's wedding) with me interrupting every now and then saying that they were going slightly overboard. But it was fun and after worrying about the whole affair all week, I was glad I came.
The weeks went by with me now and then thinking that I should really find a job and earn some money. Not that I wasn't paying my way, I was - I had enough money that working wasn't necessary for quite a long time. Still, I felt exceptionally lazy, especially as Hermione started planning for her new year at university plus her part time job.
So I started making a very limited effort in finding a job. I looked in both Muggle and magical papers but nothing reached out and grabbed me. Since I didn't even know what I actually wanted to do with my life, that wasn't too much of a surprise.
Before I knew it, it was the end of the month, which meant it was my birthday - I was going to be twenty.
Bloody Hell.
Job hunting aside, I must admit the last three weeks have been the happiest in my life. Hermione and I have just got better and better. It's like we're a couple, but without the sex. Which doesn't stop me wanting 'the sex' though - but I still haven't had the courage to tell her how I feel.
Because I know how I feel now, I know that the feeling that she is the one, the only one for me, is real. And I know I should tell her. The trouble is now, I don't think I'm good enough for her, that I can't give her all that she deserves. We've been spending a lot of time with Ron and Luna and Neville and his girlfriend, Beth, which has just accentuated my fears. Even Ron, emotionally stunted Ron, tells Luna he loves her all the time.
I can't seem to get the words out, even on my own.
But I have to do something because it's agony to be with her but not be with her.
I'm an idiot.
So on my birthday, we have a party at The Burrow. Everyone who is anything to me is there and I have a great time. I get heaps of brilliant presents, eat tonnes of fantastic food and laugh and joke with my friends so much that I am exhausted by the time Hermione and I leave to go home. I had also drunk a few glasses of wine and although I wasn't drunk, I was definitely 'happy', which was good because Hermione had been unintentionally torturing me all night as she never left my side. I planned to go straight to my room when we got home and hide, but didn't get the chance.
"I have another present for you," she tells me shyly as I place my already substantial pile of presents down on the kitchen table, "wait right there."
She didn't give me a chance to object as she quickly ran off. Curious but also nervous, I wait by the table and in minutes she's back and hands me a small, flat box.
"You already got me a gift," I tell her, taking the box from her hands and notice with a frown that they were shaking slightly.
"I know," she replies as she sits, "but this is a special gift. A private gift. I was going to give it to you for you eighteenth, but everything was still such a mess and you were still in hospital, so I thought I'd wait until Christmas. Christmas came and you were with Ginny, so it didn't seem right and then you were gone for the next birthday and Christmas, so here we are! Go on, open it."
I sit down in the other chair and take the lid off the pre wrapped box to see a layer of tissue. Putting the box on my lap so I could use both hands, I remove the tissue to find a framed picture of three pairs of hands - a large pair in red paint, a small pair in blue paint, and a tiny pair in purple paint.
"I found this at Godric's Hollow, when we went there the first time," Hermione explains, "I was going to show you then, but you were so upset, and things went so horrendously pear shaped, so I slipped it into my pocket to frame for you. Do…do you like it?"
This was me and my family, our hand prints immortalised in parchment and paint. How it survived in the ruins of my parent's home, I don't know, but it did. I blink furiously, trying not to cry but there was so much emotion going through me, I'm not sure I can hold it all in.
I had gotten a lot of wonderful presents, presents that had had a lot of thought put into them to make each gift special. But this, this was different. This was my family and Hermione knew I wouldn't want to open this in front of a lot of people, even if they were my new family and friends.
She had saved this for years, waiting for the right time to give this amazing piece of parchment to me, knowing how precious it would be to me.
She knew me so incredibly well.
"I…I can't do this," I mutter to myself, finally cracking.
"What?" she asks, concerned, "Harry?"
I put the handprints down onto the table and look at her, seeing those wonderful, beautiful brown eyes full of hurt and worry. I needed to tell her, but I don't really know how to voice all the mess that's in my head. Feeling ready to explode, I stand suddenly and start pacing.
"When I was away," I begin, "I thought I missed you because you were my link home, you reminded me of home and what I'd left here. But it was more than that and I'm so incredibly thick it took me going to the other side of the world to work it all out." I pause and look at her and she's watching me, still concerned, but stays silent. I continue to pace.
"The thing is, I want more than just friendship with you, I feel more than just friendship for you. But…but I've got nothing to give to you Hermione, nothing! I can't be like Neville or even Ron! If an expression of l…love is what you need to believe how I feel about you, I can't do that! I don't…I can't give that to you. I can't give you a future, I don't know what it is myself! All I can offer you right now is me. This is it. And you deserve so much more…"
"Harry…"
"But I promise you that you have all of me, for what that's worth. If you give me a chance, I'll give you all I can. But I understand if you say no, that you want more than I can offer. I just ask that we can remain friends…"
I don't get to carry on my tirade though because it's hard to speak when you're being kissed, and being kissed I was.
It was fantastic.
I quickly get lost in her, putting my hands in her hair and on her back so I can pull her closer into me. We kiss for what seems like eternity before she pulls away, her hands still gently holding my face so that I have no choice but to look into her eyes.
"All I want is you, Harry," she whispers.
"What?" I splutter, not sure I was hearing just what I want to hear or the actual truth.
"When you left, I thought I missed you because Ron was spending so much time with Luna and I was alone," she tells me, releasing my face so that she could hold my hands, our fingers intertwining, "but when I started school and made some new friends, I realised I missed you because I was in love with you. No other man came close to you, not even a little bit.
"But you were half way across the world having fun and I resigned myself to knowing that you may come back with a girlfriend, or a bride or not come back at all.
"Instead you came back alone and you were still my Harry and I still loved you and its taken all my self control not to have jumped you these months we've been living together."
"Me too," I admit, running a finger down her cheek just to see if it was as soft as it looked - it was.
"You and me, there's always been something special, different," she continues as my hand moves gently through her hair to the nape of her neck. She pauses briefly, closing her eyes, at what I hope was pleasurable sensations from my touch, before looking back at me, "but it took you leaving me for me to realise it, to realise what we have is…"
"…easy," I finish for her and she smiles.
"Yes, easy."
"For two people supposedly smart, we really are quite thick, aren't we?" I joke and her smile grows.
"Better late than never though, right?" she jokes back and lets me pull her in closer so that nearly every part of us is touching.
"So," I begin, aware that I am so very aroused by her but still that little bit too scared to make that ultimate move, "what happens now?"
"I Apparate us to my bedroom and we finally cross that line that we've been so careful not to cross."
I just smile.
The news of us getting together was greeted well by our circle of friends. It seems that everyone expected Hermione and I to become a couple eventually as they all could see what the both of us failed to, though we waited until after Ron and Luna's wedding to go public, not wanting to take the spotlight off the newly married couple. It was difficult to act as if we were still just friends for that night, but what happened after we got home well made up for it.
I never shifted out of her place but I must say, Crookshanks did get his bedroom back to himself quite quickly as I spent more time in Hermione's room than mine. It was a few years later that we shifted into our place, straight after us coming back from our honeymoon. We built at Godric's Hollow - no great surprise there, really - a family home to house us and our baby, due late September. Crookshanks had left us by then, his long and happy life finally coming to an end, I had gotten a job (being the new DADA teacher at Hogwarts, which was and still is brilliant) and I was able to tell Hermione how much I loved her every day.
I still do, of course, because loving her is now as easy as breathing. And it still is easy, even through the rough spots, because she has all of me - heart, body and soul.
And I wouldn't have it any other way.
A/N2 - this was inspired by a song called 'One Day' by a New Zealand band called Opshop. A lovely little ballad, one of my favs. If you get a chance, check it out