A/N: Just a little one-shot that came to me out of nowhere. It was a bit of a surprise, as I'm not really that big of a Harry/Hermione person, but hey. Gotta take advantage of inpsiration right? You know those pesky muses of mine only stay around for so long before departing with a whip of the toga for extended periods of time...

On a die note, this is DH compliant but not Epilogue compliant.

Disclaimer: Only thing that's mine is the plot. Everything else belongs to JKR.

Only One

"Going somewhere, Harry?"

Harry finished pulling his jacket on without answering immediately. "Yeah," he said, reaching to pull on his shoes. Ginny sighed impatiently. He knew she hated when he didn't elaborate, but he wasn't inclined to care. She repulsed him.

"Well? Where are you going?" She asked, wandering into Percy's old room – where he was staying for the holidays – and leaning against the wall to face him.

"I'm going to visit my parents," he replied. He turned away from his ex-girlfriend to retrieve his wand from his bedside table.

"Do you want me to go with you? I know it's difficult…" Ginny trailed off. Harry glanced at her hopeful expression. It bothered him to no end that she saw this as a date opportunity. That's all it ever was to her. A year after the war had ended she'd started pursuing Harry again, and his lack of interest had done little to curb her determination.

"No, that's alright." Harry started forward to leave the room, but was stopped when Ginny blocked his way, still looking annoyingly hopeful.

"Are you sure you don't want some company?"

"I have company. Hermione's going with me," Harry said, looking directly into Ginny's eyes, knowing she'd hate what he'd said.

"Oh, I see," Ginny muttered, lowering her eyes, failing to conceal the disgusting look of jealousy that had spread across her features. All jealousy, as always. She never understood. He'd been pushing her away for years and she still didn't understand.

Feeling a slight twinge of guilt – he was staying her family's house, after all – Harry conceded to pull her into a hug. He didn't particularly feel like hugging Ginny at the moment, but judging from her contented sigh, she hadn't noticed.

"You ready to go?" Hermione appeared in the door, her face flushed. She'd been rowing with Ron upstairs (the sounds of which were hard for anyone to miss), and looked to be on the verge of tears.

"Yeah, let's go." Harry let go of Ginny, who weakly smiled at him. Harry forced himself to return it, but he didn't miss the nasty look she sent at Hermione, who was buttoning her coat and didn't notice. Ginny's useless pettiness made him want to hex her, but he settled for brushing past her without saying goodbye instead.

"See you later, Ginny,' Hermione said to the younger girl, smiling before she followed Harry. If only she knew that her closest female friend despised her…

Harry didn't hear Ginny reply. Of course she wouldn't. He imagined she'd simply given a tight-lipped smile while silently wishing curses on the girl who loved her like her own sister.

They didn't talk as the left the Burrow. Hermione was sniffling, clearly still fighting tears. She and Ron had been broken up for ages, and the road back to friendship was a tough one. At least that's what Harry had gathered from all the fighting.

When they reached the edge of the drive, Hermione silently grabbed Harry's arm, preparing to Apparate. Harry, not wanting to be splinched due to her frazzled emotional state, gently moved out of her grasp.

"What?" She demanded.

"You're not in a right state and you know it," Harry told her softly.

Hermione deflated before him. "I know – it's just – ugh! He just makes me so angry sometimes! He gets so riled up about every little thing and takes it on me and then I get riled up and it just gets so out of hand and – and –"

"I know. I do have ears, you know," Harry gave her the slightest bit of a grin, hoping she'd be cheered a little.

Hermione made a sound that sounded like a half sob and half laugh. "You're terrible," she said, but she was smiling.

"Yeah, I know," Harry replied, wrapping an arm around her shoulder. "Come on, I'll take us this time." Giving her a quick kiss of comfort on the forehead, he turned on the spot and they were gone.

It had been five years since the terrifying night that was Harry's first visit to Godric's Hollow. Harry relived that night – along with many of the other events of that whole year – every time he closed his eyes.

He hadn't recovered like everyone expected him to. The things he used to enjoy, like Quidditch, held little interest for him anymore. He found it impossible to mourn for the dead for the appropriate amount of time and then just go on with life like everyone expected him to, and everywhere he went people were always praising him or gently asking about his well being. The attention just made everything worse. It's not that he felt the attention was undeserved and unnecessary – he'd been through some serious shit in an effort to save the magical community from racist tyranny, after all – but it just made it worse. People always smiling at him, always joyous, always going about their normal lives…

Hermione and Ron didn't have it much better. Ron, having never been good at dealing with emotions, was having some serious issues processing his own experiences as well as the loss of a sibling. Fred's death was something Ron was still having trouble accepting, and it amplified and complicated the other issues he dealt with. He couldn't process everything, and it had caused him to retreat into himself. Ron's moods had become wildly unpredictable – he'd rage and complain and even cry at the drop of a mood swing.

Ron was dealing with his own issues, and Harry hadn't had it in him to throw his own issues onto his best friend's emotionally unstable mind. No, no amount of best friend sympathy could replace a lost brother. And so Harry kept his space, feeling like doing anything else would be unwanted and selfish.

Hermione was the only one who Harry could just be around.

She never asked how he was doing. She never tried to get him to open up. She never talked about how she was dealing with her own issues. She knew he didn't want to talk about it, and she didn't want to either.

Harry and Hermione had come back to Godric's Hollow four times before, on Christmas Eve – on the anniversary of the night that had changed them in a way they hadn't realized at the time.

She'd saved his life – again. And he hadn't been able to appreciate it at the time and had been selfishly upset about a broken wand. He didn't realize until the whole thing was over – the war, that is – how much Hermione was always just there for him, even if he didn't appreciate it right away. She'd never left his side, even at his worst moments, even if it would have suited her not to.

When it was all over, she stayed there.

She was the only one who Harry could stand to be around, the only one he wanted to be around. Hermione knew what it was like for Harry, because she'd been through it all with him (well, except the dying part). And so, they could just be together.

And here they stood together, five years later, in front of the grave of Lily and James Potter.

This was the only place that brought everything out. All the terrifying experiences of that year, all of the trying experiences leading up to that year, all of the frustrations since that year – this was the only place they didn't pretend to be okay with everything, with everyone. It was the only time they didn't have to be stoic and keep it all in for the sake of others.

Harry slipped his hand into Hermione's. He knew she was crying, and he knew she knew he was, too.

Hermione never cried in front of anyone, but Harry knew she did when she was alone. She'd been sharing a flat with him in London and he could hear her in the room next to his. She was better at pretending she was okay than Harry and Ron had been – she had always been so determined to do everything right, so she'd been determined to prove to everyone that she was just fine. While Ron raged and Harry went around on autopilot, Hermione plastered a fake smile on her face as she walked out the door and pretended until the moment she walked back in the door.

They lived together because they couldn't stand to be around anyone but each other and they stayed together because they knew that's how it would always be. Hermione lived with Harry because she was afraid to live alone. Harry lived with Hermione because he was afraid of being alone – and because he was in love with her.

It started to snow. Hermione started sobbing.

Harry conjured a bench. Hermione sank onto the rough stone, freeing her hand from Harry's so she could hold her head in her hands, unable to stop the flow of tears she was always trying so hard to hide from everyone. Harry sat down next to her, gazing at his parents' grave through watery eyes. They would have been able to help him through this, to help his friends through this.

But they were gone. There was no one here to help them, nothing here to get them through this.

Harry, along with Ron and Hermione, had worked briefly with the Auror Office after war helping to round up the remaining Death Eaters. After that, Ron couldn't bring himself to work anywhere that wasn't Weasleys' Wizard Wheezes, and Hermione had buried herself in books by working in a Muggle bookstore. Harry had taken an administrative position in the Magical Law Enforcement Office. The job was alright, but Harry held no love for the position, as he mostly did paperwork. It was just as distraction, something for him to do other than sit at home, rotting on the couch watching Muggle DVDs on the telly all day.

"Hermione, let's get out of here," Harry said suddenly, wiping his eyes dry.

"W-what? Are you sure…we haven't been here that long," Hermione replied, looking quite confused at the sudden question.

"No, not here…let's get out of England."

Hermione stared at him with wide eyes, tears still silently streaming down her face.

"Get out of England?"

"Yeah, get out…just leave, you know?"

"Harry, we can't just leave!" Hermione wiped at her face, turning on the bench to face Harry.

"Why not?"

"Well, we have jobs, for one thing-"

"I hate my job and you can work in a Muggle store anywhere-"

"But there's Ron and Ginny and the rest of the Weasleys, we can't just pick up and desert them!"

"Hermione, this isn't about them, it's about us," Harry placed his hands on Hermione shoulders, needing her to understand. "We can't stay here and pretend anymore, it's going to kill us and you know it."

Hermione looked down at her hands. They never spoke about these things, and Harry needed her to realize it was a sign of how much they needed to just leave already and go somewhere they could actually deal with their issues.

"You know it's time, Hermione."

"I don't know…"

Harry squeezed her shoulders gently. "Come on, you know it's what you need, what we both need."

"Harry, I just – I mean, do you really think it's the best – God, my parents have already been through so much – you could go without m-"

At that moment – at the idea of being anywhere without Hermione – Harry leaned forward and kissed her.

Harry put everything he'd kept bottled up inside for the past three years into that brief kiss, willing Hermione to feel just how much he needed her with him.

Pulling back a little to rest his forehead against hers, Harry brought his hand up to cup her face and looked imploringly into her shocked eyes. "Hermione, you know I can't go anywhere without you."

He didn't know what he'd do if she didn't come with him. He couldn't stay here, but the thought of not being with Hermione was unbearable.

"Harry," Hermione breathed, still looking completely shocked.

"Hermione, please…" Harry felt his hope – such a rare emotion for him to feel these days – start to fade as Hermione just stared at him, nothing but shock written over her face. He wanted nothing more at the moment to just sweep her away and make a fresh start somewhere that was…else. Somewhere they could just be together, with hope of dealing with their issues without being distracted by prying questions.

Hermione's expression slowly turned from shock to understanding. "Harry," she whispered, smiling slightly and bringing her hand up to cover Harry's. "How do you feel about New Zealand?"

Harry smiled as a chuckle escaped his lips, relief spreading through his while body. He knew she would understand – she always did. She was the only one who did.

He leaned in to kiss her again, a thrill going through him when Hermione kissed him back this time. "New Zealand sounds amazing."

A/N: Eh? Read and review!