Author's Note

Hi, yeah it's me again. I was cleaning out my computer drives when I found this thing floating around. I resurrected it, and, well, fixed it up a bit. So here it is. I'm not so sure what my initial plot was, but I came up with a new one, so it's all good. Anyway, enough with my rambling, here's the story.

Disclaimer

I'm not getting paid for this and I don't own Harry Potter or other related characters, they belong to the wonderful J.K. Rowling and the people at Warner Bros. and Scholastic.

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She knew. How, she did not know. But, she had a hunch that she was right. Of course she was right. Hermione Granger was always right. Even though she had grown up without any sisters, or brothers for that matter, so she wasn't entirely sure what love felt like, but she knew. In her heart, she knew.

They say she's the smart one, the third of the famous (or infamous) trio—Harry Potter, Ron Weasley, and her, Hermione Granger who actually works for the good grade. She knows it is true that neither of her best friends work as hard, or as much, as she does, but she also knows they have so much more to deal with.

Harry, with the burden of being the only one who can defeat the Dark Lord, was born with a heavy weight on his head and had only just relinquished it.

Ron, with six siblings, has always been in the shadows. Recently, though, she's come to think that maybe he's most comfortable there.

Hermione, well, she was born a Mudblood, is a Mudblood, and will be one forever. Only lately has she realized just how much more than a Mudblood she is…

~

The top headline that horrific Wednesday was Harry Potter: Engaged! Somehow, this really got me going. For weeks now, in the aftermath of his defeat of Lord Voldemort, young women and girls really got, er, interested, in him. He'd have a group of obsessive fans around him all the time. Ron and I, being his best friends and confidants since our first year at Hogwarts, had gotten used to his fame. This was a little much, though. We never had a moment to ourselves. It was a bit ridiculous. Scratch that: it was a lot ridiculous. He had resorted to wearing Invisibility Cloaks whenever going out in public. Perhaps this is why the news shocked me so much: I had never thought he'd been seeing someone on the side. Or perhaps, I was surprised he hadn't shared his happiness with finding his "one" with us.

Us. How odd it is that maybe, in those precious seconds around the proposal, the term us lingered on being the trio and being the trio plus one. Did he hesitate, or did he know that when he said those words, will you marry me, he had changed our lives forever? Now, there were no more late-night parties, clubs, and whatever mischief we could get into at that late time of night.

I had no time to get Ron's reaction. He had left for Romania to visit his older brother Charlie the day before. It was just me. All me. Alone. A tiny bit of me hinted maybe, just maybe, I was jealous of there being another girl in his life. Of course not, I quickly discarded the thought.

Someone knocked on my bedroom door. "Come in," I hollered. Hastily I stuffed the newspaper under my mattress and wiped away at my face, which had mysteriously gotten wet in the last ten minutes.

"Hello, Hermione." Oh, no. I wasn't prepared for this. It's too soon! My brain screamed. Too soon! I had no time to prepare, no time to come up with the perfect thing to say to congratulate him, yet express my complicated feelings plus the lump in my throat.

I turned to face the one in my doorframe: Harry.

"Hi, Harry," I said, trying to keep my voice steady and my expression neutral. "How've you been in the last couple of hours I haven't seen you?" He grinned.

"Yeah, I know I just saw you, but you wouldn't believe what just happened to me," he replied seriously. I looked him in the eye, willing him to tell me about his recent engagement. "I was walking along Diagon Alley, in my Invisibility Cloak of course, and I saw a glittering shop. It was new there, I guess. Anyways," he continued with his story, me completely lost as to what on Earth he was rambling on about, "turns out it was a ring store! I walked in, and I realized something that rang a bell in my head. I saw Molly with Arthur, Bill with Fleur, and I realized I had been feeling the same way as they do for a while. A very long time, in fact. But I'm not sure she feels the same way. Do you follow me?" I blinked.

"Sure," I said. "How do you know she doesn't feel the same way?" How do you know you're the only one feeling this? "I mean, have you checked into account the signs?" Harry looked confused. "Sit down," I sighed, gesturing to the bed next to me. He sat, and I caught sight of the dark circles under his eyes. I pulled him into a sleeping position. "You look tired," I commented. He smiled.

"At least I know my Hermione will take care of me," he yawned. I smiled, but I felt my heart tear a little at the corner at the thought of no longer being the one to care for him.

"Always," I replied. "Well, does she look at you whenever she thinks you're not looking at you? Or does she try to catch your eye all the time?" Harry shrugged his broad, masculine shoulders. "Well, does she make excuses to be around you? Does she turn pink and stare at the floor whenever you enter the room?" Suddenly, I knew I was not doing the best job ever of describing a female fallen in love. Heck, I wouldn't know; the last time I saw a girl in love was years ago—Lavender had gone to Auror Training and Fleur had moved with Bill to Egypt. Either I could ramble on like this, and make poor Harry totally confused, or I could confess I knew nothing of what love looks like. I had felt love, certainly, but to describe it? No way, José.

"I'm sorry Harry, I really don't know. Nothing I'm saying makes any sense," my mouth had made its decision without consulting my head. Merlin, I hated it when it did that. But then I saw that his chest was falling up and down in the rhythm of the fan going on the ceiling and sighed. Somehow, I knew my life was going to be different. I was so confused! What was the point of telling him all that when he was just going to sleep anyway? All I had done was describe my behavior, with a few necessary changes so he wouldn't recognize it. I lay down next to him and pulled my quilt over us. I snuggled up next to him and breathed his scent. I drifted off to sleep with my best friend, for probably the last time.

~

He cracked open an eye, and saw Hermione sleeping soundly under his arm. He smiled. She looked so angelic, sleeping there. He fondly tucked a loose strand of her bushy brown hair behind her ear and kissed her forehead. She had no idea—no idea—what he had been planning for so long. How he had organized it, planned it, for months, in time for her eighteenth birthday. He smiled, remembering her birthday was tomorrow. He knew she would love his surprise. She had to love it. She would love it.

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