Caity was the picture of innocence. In the poofy little yellow flower girl's dress that she'd picked out herself with aunt Ginny and her red hair pulled high in a ponytail with stray wisps framing her delicate face, she was an angel. Ron smiled at his little princess. She took delicate steps just as practiced while her little fingers calculated the perfect number of flowers to toss. Her aunt Ginny followed after her, rolling her eyes good naturedly at her little perfectionists of a niece. If we didn't know any better, we would think that little one belonged to Hermione herself. Ginny held her bouquet low, making sure that the gorgeous gold number she was wearing wouldn't be hidden from view by the floral arrangement. She was beautiful either way. Following Ginny was Luna. With a dreamy look in her eyes, she positively floated to the front of the heavily populated chapel. She too looked heavenly in her matching gold dress.
Then came the dreaded song, my cue. Hermione stepped beside me and flashed me one of her knee-locking-heart-rocking hundred watt smiles. She looked absolutely elegant in her wedding dress. It's true what they say; women look their best on their wedding day.
"You're beautiful Hermione."
She blushed pink, only adding to the glow. I lifted her veil and planted a kiss on her cheek. I made sure to carefully replace it before giving her a tug. The entire church rose to their feet as we practically glided down the aisle. My eyes may have been playing a trick on me but the better part of the crowd seemed to be grimacing. I snuck a peek at Hermione who I could hear sniffling behind her veil. For a second, it felt as if my heart was going to stop. I had never seen her so happy. On second thought, yes I had.
"Harry, how do you think people tell other people they love them?" she asked from her seat in my lap. Her head was buried in my shoulder with her back to my chest. She was sitting between my legs, invading my personal space as per usual.
"Hmmm," I replied not really hearing the question. Instead, I was nuzzling her hair in an attempt to sneak whiffs of her delicious scent. Instead of listening, I was trying to figure out exactly what it was she smelled like. She smelled of parchment, lavender, black tea…old books, something floral… and something that was uniquely her. If I wasn't careful, with our seating position she was going to find out exactly how delicious I thought her scent was. We were friends. Just friends but somehow, my stupid brain and my very delayed heart were taking matters into their own hands to correct that little flaw, and my balls were most definitely following suit. I was not supposed to feel this way about Hermione. She was my Hermione after all. One does not feel these feeling for Hermione, one's best friend. But somehow it'd happened.
"Harryyy", Hermione said in an exasperated voice. Apparently I missed one too many questions.
"What'd you say?"
"How do people profess love?"
"I have no idea. I've never done it."
"Never?!" Hermione sounding more shocked then I truly thought she aught to.
"Yes, Hermione. For what reason would I ever profess love?"
"How can that be possible? Not to Cho?… Not to Ginny?… Not to Sasha?… Not to Rosaline?" She asked as she named my girlfriends in chronological order, receiving a dissenting response after each. "You've never loved anyone?" she asked in disbelief, placing heavy emphasis on the word anyone. She turned in my lap to face me with the Hermione Granger Makes A Study Schedule Face of determination.
"Look, Hermione," I said starting to feel uncomfortable. I rubbed the nape of my neck, searching for the words that would get her off my back without revealing too much. "I've never told anyone I've loved them because I've never felt it. I grew up with the Dursleys not a lot of 'I love yous' being tossed my way there and then between dodging Voldemort every single spring of my adolescence and cringing at the sight of long term commitments, I just haven't really had the time. How would I know if I even loved someone?"
Hermione looked into my eyes deeply and I could tell she was looking for the right thing to say to comfort me. She placed a hand on each of my legs, steading herself as she kneeled there, thinking.
"It's the one you cannot for the life of you, fathom living without... When you love someone, their absence makes you feel as though you've lost a part of yourself. You just feel this –incredible –pain… They are the person you lean on when things are rough... It's the person you want to call when something absolutely amazing happens and you want to burst from excitement and you just need to let them know first. Theirs is the last face you think of and want to see at night... It's the one you belong with. When you love someone, you just do."
I mulled her words over in my head, carefully considering each thing that she said and evaluating each of my past paramours by those standards. Even with her very vivid descriptions none of them held up. The closest anyone has ever come is Hermione and maybe Ron if it was possible to love another man in that way and I told her as much. I watched as Hermione's bottom lip, lowered and raised and lowered and raised. Until without any real warning at all, she burst into loud sobs before throwing her arms around my neck.
"Oh, Harry," she cried. I tentatively wrapped my arms around her trying to figure out what I did. She pulled back some time later, wiping those huge, gut wrenching tears from her eyes as she tried to get her emotions in check. She was breathing deeply, wiping her now red face. But she was smiling. What on earth was with this mad woman?
She took both of my hands in hers, still kneeling on the sofa between my legs.
"Harry, you love me?" I was trying to remember how we reached this point. It was Christmas Eve and we were on the couch in Hermione's flat, in front of the Christmas tree we'd decorated together. My very first. Hermione insisted we decorate after discovering that I'd never done so in my childhood years. I mean how could I with the Dursleys and Voldemort simultaneously making my life miserable for a bit there? We'd been sipping cocoa laced with enough cinnamon and liqueur to choke an army as a congratulation for not eating all of the popcorn for the garland and now we were here; with Hermione crying and asking me if I loved her.
I sighed. I'd backed myself into this corner. It was truly my fault even though her line of questioning led me here. I looked at her eyes, those eyes over flowing like the cinnamon in our cocoa and opted to give it some thought.
Hermione really was it for me. She was my best friend. She stuck by me through puberty, Ron's temper tantrums, Voldemort, broken bones, broken relationships, quidditch matches. You name it, Hermione stuck by me through it. It was Hermione I called when I received good news or when I needed to be cheered up. And if the tightness in my pants meant anything, I could probably be interested in a sexual relationship with her, too. I literally could not imagine a life without her. I didn't even want to. It was too scary and painful.
"Yeah, Hermione, I guess I do love you."
"I love you, too, Harry," she said with a soft sigh, choking back tears. Tears that were doing strange things to my insides.
"You done with the tears now?" I asked after a time, cupping her chin gently, trying to force her to look me in the eye.
"I'm just so happy," she admitted softly, tucking herself back into my chest. I placed my head on the top of her head thinking of what I just confessed as we sat there savoring one of the most magical nights of the year.
That was the end of that conversation. We never talked about it again, although it always hung over our heads. The one time in my life I'd ever professed my love and it was to my best friend, Hermione Granger and we never acted on it. Now, walking her down the aisle, I could kick myself. I thought about that conversation every day since and with a little introspection realized that not only did I love Hermione, I was in love with Hermione. I loved her so much that some days it hurt. I thought with a little work we could have something. Scratch that, I knew we had something. She was mine, not that sleaze Ian. I had her first. I don't want to let her go. I knew I couldn't let her go. She was my Hermione, no one else's, my baby. Mine. Mine. Mine, I thought as I had a mental temper tantrum of epic proportions.
My thoughts took just enough time for us to approach the altar. Ian, Ron, Minerva and Caity's twin brother Scally, stood near, all smiling in a false sort of way. They all seemed to be thinking what I was thinking. Before I knew it we were there.
"Who gives this woman away?" Minerva asked in a shaky voice, unlike her usual tones.
"I-I do." I stammered. I am such a dick face. What was I thinking? I couldn't let her do this. But who wants to stop a wedding? It's rude. Wait who gives a fuck about etiquette. Before I could punk out, I turned to Hermione and pleaded.
"Wait Hermione, don't do this."
"Harry…" she said between her clenched teeth, using that irritated condescending tone she usually saved for Ron.
"No 'Mi listen to me," I said turning to her fully attempting to block out the ever elevating whispers in the chapel. "I love you, remember? And I know you love me, too. Remember? Remember you told me that?"
"Harry, don't do this to me." She said pulling away from me.
"No," I said grabbing her free hand. "Don't you do this to me. I know you love me. Remember, you told me so on Christmas Eve? You said you loved me." Her eyes softened and her lower lip began to tremble. "Please, Baby. I love you. I don't know what in the hell I am going to do if I lose you. I want to wake up every morning roll over and see your face. I want you to be the mother of my children. I want to be with you forever. No I need to be with you forever."
"Harry, I can't," She said sobbing and shaking her head "You can't. Yes, I remember telling you I loved you once. We didn't go anywhere with it. Now you want me? You can't just go and have a fit every time you don't get what you want. This is just silly. And I can't do this. I can't. I can't. I can't." she said on the verge of hysterics.
"Yes you can 'Mi. I'm sorry it took me so long. But I know that you know that you love me. Who are you going to talk to in the middle of the night? Ian? He's great but he's not me. You told me that when you love someone they're the first one you want to tell good news to and the last face you want to see at night. That's you for me. All of it. Just come with me. You know you want to. You love me. I know it. You know it. They know." I said waving to her loved ones in the pughes. "Even your damn husband-to-be knows it." I said with sarcasm.
She put her head down and closed her eyes in contemplation. I felt an unexplainable feeling on the edge of my mind. It felt like a warm caress, a sunny cloudless quidditch day, a good slice of greasy pizza, and the deep panting feeling after a particularly hot bout of sex rolled into one. I knew it was Hermione.
'Harry, I can't do this. Either way, I am going to look like a bad person. I am not a bad person.' She cried to me. 'I'm going to be the woman-who-dumped-the-man-that-lived or the-woman-who-left-her-fiancé-at-the-altar. I don't want to be a bad person help me Harry. I'm so lost.'
She crumpled to the floor with her large lovely dress surrounding her. A large synchronized gasps came from the observers. If it wasn't so sad it would be hilarious. Ian stooped on the floor beside her.
"Minnie, dear" he said in his stiff obnoxious weather-reporter-like voice. "Minnie, don't be foolish. Come on stand up." He grabbed her by the arm attempting to pull her to her feet. She ripped her arm away in an irritated sort of way. I think the name Minnie makes her want to vomit. It sure does make me.
'Hermione,' I whispered into her mind. 'Come on. Listen to me 'Mi, remember the night you got engaged. You came to me and asked me what to do. I told you to follow your heart. I thought you were going to choose me. I lost a part of myself that night. And I lost a part of you. Come back to me. I promised. I will never make the mistake of not expressing how much I love you again. I will cherish you and honor you and do anything you want me to do to you." A soft chuckle left her at my dirty double entendre.
'Sweetie come with me. We belong together.' I reached down and lifted her from the floor. Gently, I lifted the veil and kissed her on each cheek. "Marry me 'Mi. Not today, not tomorrow but whenever you feel like it. No pressure," I said softly aloud, just for her ears to here.
The wedding was so much pressure. Ian had set the date and did all the arranging. She was so busy with passing her newest proposal for werewolf rights that she simply hadn't had the time. And didn't want to make the time. She went along with it because she loved Ian, the stupid bastard. She looked up, her hazel eyes shining from tears.
What was I thinking? I was putting her through hell. I was the bastard, not Ian. How dare I? I kissed her on the cheek once more and headed back down the aisle.
I had single-handedly ruined my best friend's special day. I wish I could take it all back. I probably could. Time turners worked wonders in our third year.
'Harry, Wait.' rang in my head. I turned around to look at her. She was smiling. 'I do love you. I would rather be the-woman-who-left-her-fiancé-at-the-alter.' I opened my arms. She gave me the knee-locking-heart-rocking hundred-watt smile. Lifting the base of her dress, she sprinted down the aisle and into my arms. I was extremely relieved. I spun her around in circle after circle. The crowd was obviously pleased because we received a standing ovation.
'Let's go,' her voice hummed in my head. I grabbed her hand and we raced out of the church. My Hermione, all mine.
Four Years Later
What a cover hog. "Hermione, if you don't share these bloody covers I am going to spank your arse."
"Hmmm, that sounds like something we haven't tried," she said with a little moan from under the covers. I was naked and freezing and someone was making jokes. "Come on 'Mi. I'm cold. Please share."
"Come here let me warm you up." She said slipping out of the covers and climbing on top of me. This was a surprise. "What did I do to deserve this?" She was kissing that deathly erotic spot behind my ear, making me shiver and making it hard to think. She paused and sat up on my torso as though she were deep in thought. "I guess because you love me."
"Good answer." I replied pulling her mouth down to mine. She tasted terrific. My tongue somehow found its way into her hot sensuous mouth. Her hips started to grind against me. God was I glad she chose me. She was all mine; my Hermione. And we belong together.
a/n: Some of the material is new here but for the most part its just another cleaned up story. Let me know what you think.