A/N: This is for the I Never Challenge. A very evil challenge devised by a doubly evil genius; the challenge was to write a story that I would never write, with a pairing I'd never pair, without making it a parody. Based on characters created by (but never seriously paired ) J K Rowling-Rita

Best Friends

"Are you all right, Hermione?" Harry asked his friend as she wept quietly on back steps furthest away from Gryffindor Hall or the cheering students who had just witnessed Gryffindor's first Quidditch (and total annihilation of Slytherin totally in part to the brilliant keeper skills of Ron Weasley) win.

Hermione sniffled and wiped her eyes. "I'm fine."

Harry raised an eyebrow. "Really?" he asked, drawing the question into two long syllables.

Hermione smiled. She loved it when he made her smile, even when he didn't realize he was doing anything to amuse her.

"Did all the Lavender mess upset you?' he asked.

She sighed. That was another thing she loved about Harry. He got her. She shrugged. "Not as much as I thought it would, honestly. I'm beginning to believe it's time for me to quit hoping for something that just isn't to be." She sighed again.

"He's an idiot," Harry said, sitting down next to her and taking her hand.

"We know that," she said, laughing lightly.

That made Harry smile. She put her head on his shoulder. "You're a great friend, Harry," she said.

"I'll always be your friend, Hermione." He wrapped a protective arm around her shoulder.

Hermione sat up and looked at Harry thoughtfully. "I believe you," she said. He put her hand in his and they sat on the stairs away from the crowd and the noise for the longest time. Finally the noise died down and they returned to the dormitory. Harry looked like he wanted to say something more to Hermione, but he just smiled and released her hand.

"Good night, Hermione," he said.

"Night, Harry. Thank you."

He smiled again. "That's what friends are for."

Hermione braced herself for the prospects of seeing Ron and Lavender together. She'd once held the silly notion of her and Ron getting together, eventually getting married and having loads of children, but that was a time before the reality of the world set in. One rarely got what she deserved—or wished for, at the very least.

As the days passed, Hermione found herself becoming immune from the constant public displays of affection that Ron and Lavender were engaging at every turn. Harry stayed with her and kept her mind off them. He told her funny stories and asked her opinion about just about everything. Before long Hermione didn't remember what it was about Ron that so attracted her and she began seeing Harry in a whole new light.

"You know, Harry," Hermione began nervously. They had secreted themselves in the library under the pretense of looking for an ancient spell for Professor Flitwick's charms class (strictly extra credit). "Did anyone ever tell you that you are perfect?"

Harry laughed. "Yeah, really," he sighed dramatically. "Every day, naturally. There's not a day goes by that someone tells me how perfect and wonderful I am." He laughed again.

Hermione blushed and slapped him playfully. "That's exactly what I mean." She looked like she was struggling for words. "You'd be the perfect boyfriend."

That surprised him even more. He didn't say anything because he didn't know what to say.

Hermione blushed again, deeper red this time. "What I meant was, you listen." She stamped her foot in frustration. The words she wanted to say to him just weren't coming out right. He looked like he didn't know what she was talking about. She wanted to tell him how her feelings had changed; that she couldn't think of anyone else; of how she couldn't wait to show him something new she'd found in the library. She wanted to tell him that Ron had faded into a dim memory and she was ready to look forward.

"Think I'll make someone happy?" he asked. "Will you set me up? With you pitching me as the perfect boyfriend, I'm bound to find my soul mate."

"Oh, well, yes, okay, of course." Hermione stuttered. She nervously tucked her hair behind her ear and looked down at her lap, praying that Harry wouldn't see her slowly fall apart. She cleared her throat twice, fighting the overwhelming urge to cry. "Umm, what type of girl are you interested in?"

A slow smile spread across Harry's face and then he got serious. "Someone pretty, obviously."

"Obviously," she repeated dully, rolling her eyes. Of course he wants someone pretty.

"And she has to be smart," he added. "And shy. Preferably muggle-born whose parents are dentists…"

Hermione's head shot up and for a split second, she forgot to breath. "Harry?" she said, still not believing she was hearing the words from Harry's mouth. Her eyes met his and this time she did cry.

He placed his hand under her chin, lifting it slightly and he moved closer until finally his lips brushed hers. He wrapped his arms around her. "Hermione," he whispered into her hair. "It's always been you. It killed me when you fell for Ron, my best friend, but I still had hope that you'd see me as more than just a friend. You gave me hope to believe there was a chance, even a small one that you could care for me. Can I hope, Hermione?"

"Oh, Harry." Tears were streaming down her face. "I do care for you. You're everything to me."

He took her hand and kissed it gently. True, they would always be best friends, but now they were beginning to be much more.