She didn't know how it happened, to be honest she probably didn't want to know, all she knew was that it was happening and it was amazing. The past three months had been amazing. Never before had she ever felt this happy. Truly, genuinely happy. Not happy because she got a hundred percent on an essay or because the Dark Lord was dead. But because she was in love. And because she knew someone loved her.

Being with Harry was the most amazing feeling in the world.

He was always so considerate, so sweet. Every look made her chest tighten; her heart beat faster and her brain stop functioning. Every little touch let her know he was always thinking about her. Every kiss made her insides fly. All of his gazes let her know exactly how much he loved her. All of his kisses and touches let her know how beautiful and perfect he found her.

It really isn't a bad thing, dating your best friend. Their friendship over the years allowed them to be comfortable enough to tell each other anything. There was nobody in the world she trusted more than him. After years of dark journeys together she felt safe in his presence; for she knew he would do anything in his power to protect her, and even though she felt she could do a fine enough job protecting herself, the idea was sweet and chivalrous and always made her feel warm inside.

Despite the fact that they had been platonic friends for years, they had the most amazing physical chemistry. They could be sweet and cute or fiery and intense. And no matter how close they were physically, it never compared to how emotionally and mentally connected they felt. They knew exactly what to do to get each other started and they took advantage of every second they had to cherish each other. Every kiss was just as sweet as the first.

A smile spread as memories of that fateful night filled her brain.

They were on her bed; Harry leaning against the headboard; Hermione lying across it, resting her head in her hands. It had been years since the war had passed so they really had no excuse anymore, but it had become part of their routine to share a bed.

It had started one night a few weeks after the war. Harry had moved out of the Burrow and into Number Twelve Grimmauld Place. Into hiding. He hardly replied to their mail, was even less keen to leave the house, and read The Daily Prophet incessantly to find out about all of the captured Death Eaters and the whereabouts of the ones that hadn't yet been caught. Worried about her best friend, Hermione went over to Grimmauld Place and found Harry sleeping restlessly behind piles of newspapers and scattered mugs. She sat in the chair beside his and ran her fingers through his hair, which seemed to calm him a little, until his eyes fluttered open. In silence, she took him by the hand and guided him to his bedroom. She made sure he was tucked in bed before she turned around to leave, but as her hand reached for the doorknob she heard him whisper "Stay. Please." And so she did, she crawled into the bed with him, kissed him on the forehead and whispered to him that she wasn't going anywhere.

But there was something different about tonight. Harry was quiet. More quiet than usual anyways. He was tense and unresponsive and ignored eye contact by staring at the ceiling or his nails. And when their eyes did meet it was for no longer than a second. But she could still see that something was troubling him. She placed a hand on his arm. When he didn't pull away she took it as a good sign. She tried to catch his eyes, but no luck.

"Harry what's wrong?" she whispered, her eyes focused on him. The sound of her voice startled him out of his thoughts and he looked down at Hermione before locking eyes. "We're best friends, you know you can tell me anything."

Harry looked away. "I know." He started fidgeting with his finger nails.

"Something's bothering you." It was more of a statement than a question.

Their eyes connected for a second. "I'm fine." But as Harry looked away from her again, Hermione could see a certain darkness in his eyes.

"What's on your mind? I can tell that something is bothering you. Please talk to me." Hermione grabbed his face, forcing him to look her in the eye.

"It's nothing. I'm fine."

"Harry I'm your best friend. Please. You can tell me anything. You know that." She was sitting up now, almost hovering over him, as she carefully examined his expression. Harry closed his eyes slowly. "Harry…"

She sounded so desperate, so caring, so loving; and at the sound of her voice Harry opened his eyes. He sat up straight and finally met Hermione's gaze. "Exactly. You're my best friend Hermione. My best friend. So why do I want to kiss you so badly?" he was going to continue but Hermione's soft voice stopped him.

"And why do I want to kiss you?"

Their eyes locked. Nothing else needed to be said. Harry inched his face towards Hermione's. As their noses grazed they closed their eyes and took a moment to breathe each other in. Finally their lips met in a slow, sweet, gentle embrace.

Three months later she still couldn't believe it happened. She had been wanting it for weeks before but was always to terrified to losing him to say anything. But if she thought enough about it, she knew that this is how it would turn out eventually. They had never really been just friends. They had always had this connection that could never quite be explained. Her automatic thought whenever she was upset was to seek comfort in Harry, knowing that he was always there for her. The level of trust and comfort they'd established in each other was irreplaceable. She had always felt protective over him, never wanting to see him hurt or sad; she always had the urge to take him in her arms, kiss his head and make everything okay by whispering three little words in his ear.

It was clear to her, in that moment as Hermione waited for Harry to return home to take her on their date, that she was so head over heels in love with him. She wanted to spend the rest of her life with him; fall asleep in his safe, strong arms every night; wake up to his gorgeous smile every morning; endless evenings involving sweet kisses and soft embraces; make mundane tasks like cooking and cleaning seem fun as they flirted and giggled like teenagers in love. The thought of a future with Harry made Hermione smile even bigger.

As far as she was concerned, they were perfect for each other.