Author's Note: Hee hee, this is my first fanfic, and well, part of me is wondering why you're reading this. Why are you reading this? Ah, whatever. I appreciate it either way. Anyway the other part of me is hoping you enjoy this. I don't think I'm actually a very good author, but I enjoy fanfics. Surprisingly… well I could bare my soul out and tell you why, or you could just read my story, so.. voila!

Disclaimer: well, the only one who could do anything about me claiming to own this (which I don't) would be J. K. Rowling. And, Joanne my dear, why are you reading Harry and Hermione fan fiction? A little sad about the corner you wrote yourself in? Ah, I'm sorry, not too late though. ; Honestly though, why?! I don't own it and she would never dream of selling so on with the show!

She had knew the magic wasn't there. It had never been there. Why it took her so long to figure it out... well, not even she knew. She was depressed. No, that wasn't right. Depressed, miserable, heart broken. She thought. No, she was known of these. She was... she was distraught. She had come with the plan to keep her head high, to remain composed. Hermione Granger was not one to fall apart, much less in public. She had been through much. She had faced countless wizards that were much more powerful then even the "brightest witch of her age". Not that she would have it any other way, mind you.

There was the logical side, she would often tell any one who was brave enough to ask why she did it all for Harry, why she risked her life for him. "It gave me more practice then I ever could've imagined, I learned a lot" or "He was my best friend, only natural I would help any way I could". To herself, she knew the truth. He needed me, and I loved... No, I love him. He was my best friend and I wanted to know I was always there for him. Any of those brave enough to ask, only a few had been observant to watch a small smile, barely even noticeable, creep onto her face whenever she thought of the true reason before she gave her false reply. Mechanic and flat in a matter-of-fact voice.

Only a few would ever notice the change in her demeanor, in her deliverance. Hermione had been guarded all her life, after being rejected more times then she could count in grammar school, she had learned to seal herself off. While she never physically built a fortress of books around her (Though there were a few exceptions involving her two best friends and an unfinished Potions essay). But figuratively... She had done it unintentionally, of course, by hiding her nose in those damned books. Day after day. The books would never leave her, never make fun of her for reading too much. Books were dependable; people were not. Few people ever stuck around long enough to meet the true Hermione. That's the way she preferred it, or at least that's what she said.

If Harry hadn't thought to save her from that troll. But if Ron hadn't caused to hide and cry in the girls' bathroom in the first place... Ironic as it was, that troll was one of the best things to happen to her. It had been meant to ruin the holiday and create a distraction large enough to keep the teachers away from the sorcerer's stone. However, it had succeed in only one thing, and that was bringing the golden trio together, as they would always stay. A dangerous move on Voldemort's part.

When the golden trio had reached puberty things changed, much in tune with their bodies. The best friends were lefts to battle hormones, crushes, peer pressure, and special times of the month (the two males had been effected by that more then they would ever let on). Plus there was the bonus treat of being the people they were and having the daunting task of destroying he-who-must-not-be-named and meanwhile being the chief target of the Dark Lord. When the golden trio had faced the discovery of there being one girl, and two boys, things started to change even more.

It was strange. Hermione spent more and more time with Harry, but she started dating Ron? When the two most important boys (men, guys?) had that fight in fourth year, it was obvious Harry was right. Ron was just thinking of the Galleons, Harry never asked to be in the limelight, in fact he hated it. All those fights, and then the rifts between her and Ron were legendary by the end of Hogwarts. She had always felt a connection with Harry, they had come from similar places, the fact that he knew anything about the muggle world was enough. She felt sorry for him, and she figured she owed him. That's why I did those things. Ever logical, that was Hermione.

But being here alone, here. Of all places, she had never been alone here. Always with Harry, Ron, Ginny, Lavender, Parvati, Neville, even Draco, and all the others that flocked the hall. No, she was never alone here. Something had changed. Something leaving her very much alone. She had realized that no matter how hard she tried, how hard she pushed, she could never love Ron. No amount of magic could do that for her. That magic had to come from somewhere else. The night she shared this with Ron was six months ago.

Since then she had plunged herself into her work. She didn't know what to do. Years after school, it was all she had left. She loved work, she had been made to be an auror. A powerful witch, quick on her feet, more experience then training ever provided for, she had even been blessed by knowing the boy-who-lived. At least that's what her boss said. She thought even he would catch the blush at the mention of the "Man-who-lived", being the great detective as his job requires him to be, but he never did.

Ron had moved on. Hardly surprising. She scoffed at the idea of Ron moping over their faded relationship. He had come to the same decision by the time she confronted him about the flat relationship, so they had parted on good terms. They just returned to that friendship they had had, but most closer. She had heard he had his eyes on Luna, and that suited her just fine. They were both a little crazy anyway.

Hermione hadn't asked what went wrong between Harry and the girl he had been head over heels in love with sixth year; the youngest Weasley. She imagined it was because of the war. They had all grown up so fast, so hard. Harry had won, naturally. As cliché as it was, good had triumphed over the dark side. Maybe we haven't grown up after all. Hermione mused, as a slight smile twinkled in her eyes. (Not to go unnoticed by a certain someone across the room, unbenowest to her.) When he had returned home, wounded, he had needed someone to care for him. Ginny had stayed out the war, as she promised, at least the physical contact area. She had been a rallying force raising awareness in Hogwarts. The endless battles, the loneliness, the multiple crushing defeats, watching those he loved die. These had scared Harry in a way no healer could fix. Ginny couldn't grasp that. Had she been to war, things would've been different.

Hermione knew Harry through and through, especially because she had been a part of so many things that had happened to him. All the adventures... the risks. He had seen more things by the time he was 18 then most people ever would. Growing up without parents (much more, growing up with abusive family), having the last shard of hope of his family ripped away in when he was 16, watching countless people suffer and die indirectly because of him. Ginny was just beginning to get going. Having graduated school, she was looking forward to a few years filled with alcohol, night clubs, anything (and everything) that popped into her head. Harry wanted to settle down, start a family. The two clashed.

When Draco's great reform had come about, during a crucial battle, he had slowly began to restore his family honor to the wizarding world. When he and Ginny got together, it was something else. They had a wild side that showed whenever they were together. They were both fighting for the good side, but were by no way benevolent.

The idea had seemed crazy at first, but as it became a reality (she obviously wouldn't be staying with Harry) everyone warmed up to the idea. Even Ron. Eventually. Mostly.

Everyone had paired off nicely, it would seem. She was alone, but someone would come. Maybe even closer then she thought... Alone at the ever important reunion of the graduating class of Hogwarts. Those who fought in the war were granted lenience with final exams, because of the stress and "life experience" as they had put it. Early albeit, a mere 3 years after graduation, the reunion was still a great way to catch up. To see who had paired up, who was married, who was expecting, what every one did after school. She was alone, in front of the detail oriented and harsh judgment of her schoolmates.

She was alone, and the only person she wanted, she would never have.

That alone made her tear up.

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Nothing she did went unnoticed. Naturally. Her best friend of ten years now was watching her from across the room. He saw her through out the process of her thought, left to his own musings. In the past 10 (Wow, has it really been 10 years?) years he had learned to read through 'Mione's deep subconscious. He knew things that she would never dream of him figuring out, maybe even some things she didn't know about herself. That was a best friend's job, and he did it well. If I do say so myself... Harry was more of a friend that Hermione could and would ever ask for. And he felt the same way about her.

Hermione had stuck by him time and time again. He owed her, no matter what she said. He loved her, and recently, things had begun to change, to a different love.

When he returned from the hunt and the battle, he was a new man. Or, at least, a man to start with. Growing up quickly, his priorities and ideals had changed drastically. Because of the pressure, the choices, the risk, all he wanted was to destroy Voldemort, to protect those he cared about. After being victorious (As long as I took him down, it didn't much matter what happened to me...) he only wanted to settle down. All he needed to do was find a woman.

Ginny had different ideas. She wanted to go out, to play, to laugh. She was ready for a wild few years, undecided about the rest of her life. She was a normal college age student, Harry wasn't and couldn't be. He was holding her back from fun, she was holding him back from a permanent and peaceful life. They split up, but were resolved to remain friends.

Finding someone was getting increasingly hard. He had thought he had a lot of "prospects" (though most weren't worth a second glance) when still in school. Thought being the key word here. Nowadays, there were too many to count, now that he was young and eligible, not to mention a "hero". Witches were all over him, and brought some dangerous magic with them. Even a few muggles had seen him on the news, though the report was mysterious, cryptic, and a little ominous. Needless to say, because of the last element, those who approached him were a little... unorthodox.

No matter how many girls he went out with, none of them were right. He didn't know what it was, it just didn't fit.

Everything was great with those who knew him before the exceedingly high level of fame. Ron could talk about anything with him. The latest quidditch game to gossiping about news of their school mates. Of course, he could talk about more serious things like how he felt about the war, but they had such different view points. Harry had learned to be more thoughtful (but if you asked anyone, he was still careless and quick to act) and Ron had learned to live for the day.

But with Hermione? Everything was just right. They fought plenty, but they always made up. Somehow it was always natural that after a fight they would come back together. They often saw each other for coffee, dinner, a movie at one of their apartments, whenever they could. Everything was great when he was with his 'Mione. Mione Mine... The beginnings of a glazed and dreamy look had begun to creep upon his face as he rested his head in his hand and "took in" the sight of his best friend.

"You've got it bad, mate" That had been what Ron told him.

A couple weeks ago, after Ron had simply asked how Hermione was doing, Harry had gone into a full blown rant about their best friend. Starting with her latest case, it soon turned into a list of some of her best qualities, which soon turned into "what would I do without Hermione?". Ron was silently laughing to himself as Harry got a glazed look on his face and he stared off into space above Ron's shoulder. No doubt imagining the dear book worm herself.

Maybe I do, but what am I going to do about it?

What am I going to do about it?

Ah, shit.

He glanced over to her, sitting at her table, and was suddenly pulled back to the world when he realized the many complications between them. She looked... distraught. Yes, that was it, distraught. His heart panged when he imagined her "distraught". He wanted her to be happy, and would do anything to have it that way. I s'pose that's why I haven't told her how I feel, so she can be happy... He sighed, there would be no way out of it.

Deep in thought (looking for a way out of it), Harry didn't noticed Hermione slip out the door. When he returned his gaze to her chair, he found it empty. He quickly stood up, causing his chair to scrape backwards on the floor. He grabbed his coat from the arm of his chair, and hastily walked straight through the dance floor, and to the door. Behind him came the curious glances of Ron (dancing with Luna) and Ginny (dancing with Draco) as well as their partners.

Stepping into the hall, Harry called her name. "Hermione?" Nothing. Sweeping throughout the passage way, his eyes settled on the slim figure sitting on the stairs. Walking towards it, he whispered, "'Mione?"

The figure jerked her head out of her hands, resting on her lap, upon hearing her name. She wiped her cheeks and eyes with the side of her hands. She looked Harry in the eye, as he sat down at her side and gave her a reassuring and gentle smile. "Oh, Harry..." Harry reached out with his left hand, and reached across her back to right shoulder. With his other hand, placed on the small of her back, he pulled her into a hug.

He whispered shushes and calming phrases into her ear, wearing a look of distress and genuine care. She sobbed into his shoulders, and moved her hands from their grip on his shirt, to lace around his neck. As he stroke her back in calming up and down motions, she calmed down and rested in the crook of his neck. Neither of them minded, but they were still in the uncomfortable positions on the stairs. As Harry sensed her relax, he slid one hand to her waist, and the other to her shoulder, he pushed her back (even though he didn't want to). He kept one hand on her waist, and brought the other to cup her cheek.

Brushing away her tears with his thumb, Hermione leaned into his hand. Blinking quickly, she couldn't believe that she was was here. With him. Doing something so sweet, so tender, so damn romantic.

A comfortable silence took place, of the two staring into each other's eyes, warm brown meeting striking green. "What's wrong, Hermione?" he whispered to her, tilting his head to match her own angle and looking straight into her deep hazel eyes.

She gazed into his eyes for a moment, observing the yellow specks through out and his concerned expression. Breaking the eye contact, she looked down and responded, meek and unsure. "It's just... it's just... I don't even know." She brought her eyes to meet his again, looking back and forth as if he were a book, trying to read his expression.

"I do." He muttered, leaning in closer. "And it'll all going to be okay. I promise." With one last glimpse into her eyes, he brought his lips to her own, enclosing her into a loving kiss.

At first, Hermione was shocked. When she realized that he did this own, and that he wouldn't be leaving, she closed her eyes and returned the gesture.

This kiss was not the best kiss. Far from it, they were not snogging or taking the opportunity to "explore". Some might have said that there was no passion, no intensity, and that they couldn't actually be in love. Many would go on to say it. It was simply a kiss, their first kiss. But in the simplicity, there was the perfection. The love, the joy. It's exactly what they wanted, what they needed from the other.

Leaning apart, Harry smiled. Smiled more genuinely and larger then he ever had. Hermione opened her eyes and smiled broadly. too. "I believe you."

Unknown to the couple, Ron and Ginny had been watching at the door, concerned in Harry's hasty departure. Ron placed a hand on his sisters shoulder, after her startled gasp when the two kissed. Looking down, he saw that she was tearing up, but pleased and smiling. Overjoyed, Ginny turned and walked back into the room and the open arms of her own partner.

After seeing the couple beam at each other, Ron turned too, mumbling "About bloody time," and shaking his head. But he couldn't stop the slight smirk that crept up on his face.

The couple missed the entrances and departures of the two Weaslys, both times looking into each others eyes. "Thank you, Harry."

"Anytime." He breathed. He inclined forward, and rested his forehead on her own, giving her an eskimo kiss as well as a smile.

"I think I'll have to take you up on that." Leaning in for another, more intimate, kiss. This kiss, was indeed more passionate, but yet nothing that they wouldn't do in front of anyone (convenient, considering they were where any of their old classmates could walk in and see them). Harry put one hand on Hermione's hip and the other behind her ear. Hermione rested one hand on his chest, and thrust the other over his shoulder.

As they broke apart again, Harry lifted her up and they walked back into the dance room, to meet the world as a newborn couple, hand in hand.

Some would say that they were naturally meant to be. The wizarding world's hero and heroine? Friends since early childhood? Neither of the lovers cared what the rest of the world said. They were perfectly content with each other.

Somehow, just like he had promised, everything did turn out okay.