A/N: I'm still in the process of editing all of my fics and this one is next on the docket. Written in 2005 and updated 11/14/2014.

Hermione finally had a moment to herself and she was going to spend it well. For the past week and a half, she'd been working long, hectic hours as she adjusted to her new role in the Department of Magical Law Enforcement. Meetings, briefings, debriefings, liasions, it seemed everyone wanted a piece of the Hermione pie. It made her long for her position of yesterweek, "campaigning for spew" as Ron so fondly referred to it. But when the opportunity came to make a larger impact in government, Hermione begrudgingly took it.

So when Hermione had her first free afternoon, she decided to spend it by herself, which suited her just fine. Sure, it would have been nice to have some company. She would have loved to at least be able to spend more than an hour awake at a time with Harry or twenty minutes with Ron without him stuffing his face, but a quiet afternoon to herself was good as well.

Hermione strolled at a leisurely pace down Diagon Alley. She was careful not to bump into patrons leaving shops since her nose was buried in a book. Before today, she hadn't had time to purchase the new Arithmancy and You, which she'd been meaning to buy for a bit of light reading. So when she found out she would have the afternoon off, it took top priority on her list of things to pick up. She'd been dying to purchase it for weeks but between the new position and the judgment she would most assuredly accrue it she purchased the book whilst in the company of her friends, she hadn't had the time. A resident expert at reading while walking, Hermione effortlessly weaved past a customer exiting the stationary shop as she approached Quality Quidditch Supplies.

She'd been meaning to stop there as well. She needed to get a gift for Harry for their second anniversary. This year they promised nothing lavish since for every holiday, Hermione always aired on the side of going above and beyond with gifting like everything else she did. But, the new Stratus racing broom had come out and Harry'd started lusting over it the day they saw the unveiling of the floor model. She recognized that it was a lot of gift for just a two year anniversary but it was also their "bestfriend-aversary". The anniversary of the day Harry and Ron saved her from the troll, she and Harry were forced together at a Halloween party at Seamus' pub. Due to busy schedules, neither had time to get dates so instead of being a thirteenth and fourteenth wheel, the two of them stuck together. What started out as a boring evening alone somehow turned into a date and a revelation for them both.

Hermione shook herself from her musings, glancing into Quality Quidditch scanning quickly to see if they even had any more of the Stratus. While she thought Halloween was a bit early to start, it didn't stop ambitious, penny-saving parents who had long begun Christmas shopping for their little ones. That broom could very well be sold out with its unveiling coinciding with back to school time.

Glancing into the window, Hermione almost lost her breath. There was the object of her thoughts in the flesh. Harry Potter was in Quality Quidditch, looking at the very broom she intended to buy him, with a girl under his arm. He looked happy. His head was thrown back in laughter and his eyes shone bright emerald with glee. The girl was also laughing. Upon further inspection, she was not just any girl. She was stunning.

Beauty radiated out of her every pore. If Hermione didn't know any better, she would say she was Ginny Weasley's twin with blonde hair. The girl was a perfect mock up of Harry's 'type'. She had an athletic and yet still somehow, curvy build. Her waist length blonde hair was swept to the back of her neck in a simple ponytail. With her simple attire of all black –black jumper, black trousers- her flawless skin looked luminescent. But none of that was her defining feature. It was her vibrant grey eyes, the deepest shade she'd ever seen, with the exception of Malfoy's, that were positively captivating.

Yes, this girl was a looker and she and Harry made the perfect picture with her not-a-single-hair-out-of-place head tucked under his arm as she probably waxed poetic perfectly with Harry about Quidditch. She was the picture of grace and charm as she gestured to the broom excitedly.

Hermione's insecurities were tingling. Scratch that, practically vibrating. She wondered, not for the first time, if Harry would ever cheat on her. Shamefully, she wondered if Harry was cheating on her. She shook her head. Clearly, she'd gone off the deep end. No way would Harry betray her like that, it's not like looks were everything. Not that her looks were terrible.

Over the years, tons of products and surprisingly, muggle treatments, found a way to tame her aggressive, nest of hair into soft and bouncy waves. Though it was much better than her school days, it still gave her trouble some morning if she didn't allot the proper time post shower. Her body had filled out a bit after returning to regularly eating meals after the Horcrux hunt seventh year. Something about not being hunted by a sociopath everyday made for a little less stress so Hermione was finally given the opportunity to develop curves with the newfound stability in her life.

Still, she couldn't contend with the young woman whose shoulder Harry squeezed. She wondered why he would spend what little free time he had here. With her. Instead of home. With Hermione.

She sighed, discouraged. She'd all but convinced herself that Harry was cheating on her.

She felt tears well in her eyes as she thought about having to split the furniture in their flat in half. He would take the sofa so he could watch the telly from it and she would take the huge oak desk in the office since she needed it for her work. The cats would be split up. Lydia would go with Harry and Crookshanks would come with her of course. Oh God and what of their friends? Harry would more than likely get Ron because he was never on her side and who would she get Luna? This was like a divorce but worst. They'd been together without a title for so many years. Fifteen years of friendship down the drain. And for what? A girl who could talk quidditch with him. Hermione needed to go home and lie down. She didn't want to be seen in her agitated state lest the press get wind of trouble in paradise before she even had a chance to tell their family and friends.

Almost as if he could sense her departure, Harry looked up and directly into her eyes in surprise. He smiled widely at her and waved, motioning for her to come into the shop.

She couldn't believe it. He acknowledged her. He was out on a date and had the nerve to wave. She couldn't face him right now. She spun on her heels and began walking away from the shop in the direction of the Leaky Cauldron.

She had to get out of here. She didn't want practically the entire wizarding world to see her burst into tears.

"Hermione, wait," she heard from somewhere behind her. She didn't stop, but quickened her pace, desperately wanting to avoid this confrontation. She tried to replace her hurt with righteous anger; anger that Harry would lead her on when he was interested in another, anger that he wasted two years plus of her life, anger that he didn't want her anymore. But it wasn't working.

She hurt.

"Hermione, stop," she heard and she continued to weave in and out of customers and proprietors alike. "Mi, what is your problem?" she heard as a hand clasped around her elbow from behind. She stopped finally and turned.

Her eyes were immediately drawn to the fact that Harry was holding the blonde's hand. That must be what took him so long to catch her. Although, Hermione ran daily around their Godric's Hollow property, auror field work and regular pickup games of quidditch made Harry the far superior athlete. He should have long ago caught up to her. The girl stood in his shadow, breathing slightly heavy.

Hermione pulled her arm from Harry's hand preparing to leave again. This time, he grabbed her upper arms with both hands, releasing the blonde, and forcing Hermione to face him. He searched her face trying to find what exactly was wrong.

"Let go, Harry," she said trying to hide her face from him. It was inevitable but he saw the tears.

"Oh my God, Mi' what's the matter?"

"Nothing, nothing," said shaking off her tears. "Aren't you going to introduce me to your friend." She sounded bitter even to her own ears. Harry looked at her in surprised confusion still trying to read this new attitude from Hermione. She was crying in the middle of Diagon Alley, in the middle of the day, at the sight of her boyfriend, when she was should be at work. She could understand his confusion. 'Except for the little fact that he has a new girlfriend thing. He should know why I'm upset', she thought snarkily to herself.

Harry did as she asked though. "Hermione," he said letting go of one of her arms to reach for the blonde's hand. "This is Rosaline. She's Remus' niece but she's also my new trainee. She's finishing up Auror training a week from today and she's going to be my new partner. And Rosaline, this is the girl, I told you about. This is Hermione." He said turning from Rosaline to gesture to her.

"Pleasure to meet you, Hermione," Rosaline spoke up, extending her hand to shake. Hermione took it gingerly into her own, still not wanting to touch the girl, as her hand was eagerly shook. "Your reputation precedes you. We were just talking about you. You're actually all Harry talks about and I'm so glad we finally got to meet." She redirected her attentions to Harry. "Look Harry, I've got to go but thanks for showing me the broom. I probably will buy once, I finally get time to actually fly it." They both laughed.

"Well, I'll see you both later. I'm sure you'd much rather spend your few minutes off with her than me. It was nice to meet you again, Hermione," Rosaline said.

"Same," Hermione replied, wrapped in her own mind. She couldn't believe it. How could she have gotten it so wrong? She let her mind go on this crazy whirlwind adventure without her. To actually rile herself up about Harry cheating on her. Not that Harry wasn't cheating on her just because he'd mentioned her to Rosaline and introduced them.

'Maybe he had mentioned her to Rosaline.' She said the name in her head in sing song voice. 'That still didn't mean her wasn't cheating on her. Plenty of other women knew about the girlfriend on wife. Oh God, give it up Hermione. Why are you so convinced that he's cheating on you?'

Then she felt it, the gentle mental prodding that told her she was not alone. She finally noticed the feeling of the warm blanket that had been lurking on the edge of her insane thoughts and she knew without a shadow of a doubt that Harry had slipped into her mind. She quickly threw up her mental block, shielding herself from his invasion. But it was too late, the damage was done.

"Hermione, are you crazy?" Harry asked in a furious whisper. "Are you out of your bloody mind?"

Before she could answer, he tightened his grip on her arm and disapparated both of them without warning directly onto the sofa in their sitting room. Before she had time to orient herself and compliment him on his very accurate apparation, Harry was already alert.

"What the hell is your problem, Hermione? What on earth made you decide that I was cheating on you?"

"I…I..I didn't know…and… and she was so pretty," Hermione stammered, now the one surprised by his direct manner. Harry was intimidating when angry. He was a forced to be reckoned with. She'd only seen him fully enraged once in all of their years; his confrontation with Dolohov after the war. He was only a fraction as upset as then but this time was infinitely scarier because it was directed at her.

"That's still no excuse for your behavior. You were behaving like a mad woman. And because what? You convinced yourself that I was cheating on you? You must be out of you mind." Harry deflated at that. He removed his glasses and buried his head in his hand, rubbing his eyes tiredly. He looked stressed and disappointed. Hermione's fear dispensed, quickly beingreplaced by shame. She was so ashamed of herself.

This was the first time in long time, she'd seen this particular look on Harry's face. He looked defeated. And it was her fault.

She remained silent unable to find the words to defend her actions but most importantly her the words to defend her thoughts. She sat pinching her fingers, a nervous habit, and trying and failing to find words to apologize for the conclusions she'd jumped to.

She didn't know how it happened. She had no idea how she'd let her insecurities spiral out of control in those few moments. One minute she was reading about a new method of decoding names using numerological reasoning and the next, she was deciding that Harry wanted to leave her for another woman.

"Why is it that you're practical every single time except when it counts?" Harry asked, interrupting her thoughts. He replaced his glasses on the bridge of his nose and took her hand in his. He stroked the back of her knuckles with his thumb, smoothing the creases she'd just finished pinching. "Hermione, you know there's no one else. So why on earth did you convince yourself that there was?"

"She was just so pretty," she whispered, realizing not for the first time, exactly how truly moronic her logic was.

"That is the dumbest thing I have ever heard. You're pretty. What would I need her for by that vein of thought?"

"Harry, I don't know. I just saw you with her and went a little mad. I haven't been able to really see you in over a month. I'm at work. You're in the field. And when I finally see you, it's at a time when you're supposed to be at work," she rambled, trying to explain the context of her thought process. "And your in this store, where I wouldn't ordinarily go. And you're with this cute little blonde. Doing something I could never do with you," she trailed off sadly.

"Hermione, you're still being ridiculous. We've been to that same shop together."

"Yeah, but you didn't look that happy with me," she pouted. "Admit it. You'd like me better if I knew quidditch." She knew she sounded like a petulant child but it was true.

"Hermione, again. You're being ridiculous. For one, no. Just. No. Two, no one knows quidditch better that you do. You may not enjoy playing but you're the only non-referee that I know who has read the actual rule book cover to cover… Besides, all of that is irrelevant. I would never leave you just because a girl is pretty and likes quidditch. Do you know why? Because I would never leave you," he finished with a frustrated emphasis.

Hermione blushed feeling stupid again. Here she was making the argument to her best friend of fifteen years and boyfriend of two that he would betray her and leave her all alone for a girl in the name of a game. For some stupid sport.

"I know," she said feeling properly chastised. "I just…got a little jealous. I haven't gotten to spend much time with you and I just missed you and got a little crazy." She looked up at Harry through her bangs and watched as he visibly calmed.

"Come here," he said softly pulling her by a hand into his lap. She draped her legs over his snuggling into his chest. "You did get a little crazy but this is never going to happen again. Do you understand me?" He turned her chin up so she looked him directly in his eyes as he asked. She nodded her head.

"Good, you are the only girl in the world for me and I wouldn't hurt you like that. I love you too much and I respect you too much. I don't care what happens, no one else is you. Do you understand what I'm saying to you? You are my light and I love you," he said again, trying to get it to truly sink in. She looked away. He'd forgiven her so easily. He always forgave her. Her thoughts had hurt him. She'd accused him of one of the worst things that one could and he was still trying to comfort her. She wanted to cry at the limitlessness of Harry's love.

"Right, Mi'?" He asked forcing her to look him in the eyes again. She nodded her head and nuzzled his neck, attempting to hide her unshed tears and dry them on his collar. She felt him place soft kisses on her bare neck. Kiss after kiss, after kiss, after kiss, reaffirming his love for her. He kissed whatever bare flesh he could reach as she continued to hide her face and her tears. When she finally calmed, she pulled away to look at him.

"I'm sorry I was so terrible," she said softly.

"It's okay. You're my little terrible" he responded. "But I mean it. This can never happen again. She's not you and I wouldn't want her to be. All I want is you, okay?" She nodded her head rapidly. "You doing okay now?" His sweetest sent her into a fresh peel of tears as she once more buried her face in his neck. He chuckled at his unusually emotional girlfriend's antics. He held her body tightly against his, knowing that everything would be okay.

You give me more than I could ever want.

She's no you. I'm satisfied with the one I've got

'Cause you're all the girl that I've ever dreamed

-Jesse McCartney

AN: This stops abruptly but I left it open to possibly add another chapter. Let me know what you think. R&R