Title: All the Same
Summary: She laughed in a way that made him both want to smile and rip his heart out simultaneously. "If only it could be you. If I loved you, imagine how much easier my life would be."
Disclaimer: I do not own Harry Potter. The song in all chapters is Never Leave by Seether.
Word count: 3862


Things never feel the way that's right inside


Hermione and Anthony's relationship took off with less than surprising ease. When they had been in school, Anthony had been one of Ravenclaw's prides. In fact, had it not been for the war, he would have finished second in the school, only behind Hermione.

And from what she had told Harry, Anthony quite lived up to this reputation. Not only was he well read, he also agreed with Hermione's views on almost every issue. He was very well informed on world issues and loved to travel, mostly to Spain, which also happened to be his nation of concentration. In fact, he was teaching Hermione a bit of Spanish. And the more she saw him, the more Harry truly began to believe her relationship with Ron was really over.

"It won't last long."

Ron, however, didn't seem to agree.

"I don't know, mate. She really seems to like him."

"Of course she does – he's her perfect match. That's why it can't last."

"What?"

"Listen, Harry. I know I didn't always understand Hermione or what she wanted, but if there was one thing I learned about her, it's that she needs a challenge. She can't have things easy, it just isn't her. She needs someone different from her. Why do you suppose we lasted as long as we did?"

It was on the tip of Harry tongue to say that that was the very reason they had ended, but he swallowed it. Instead he shook his head. "I don't buy that. I think she needs someone who understands her, someone she doesn't have to try with. I think she and Anthony might last."

Ron gave him an odd look, but shook his own head. "You'll see, mate. I guarantee it."

Harry didn't believe him.

...

One Wednesday, rather than go out, they decided to dine in. Harry and Hermione had barely finished cooking when Ron apparated in. Harry took one look at him and thanked Merlin they had opted against going out. Tonight, he could already tell, was not going to end well.

Ron's face was red and his glare locked on Hermione. "Malfoy? Draco Malfoy?"

Harry's starred at him and his brows furred. He turned his head towards Hermione, but she appeared equally confused. "What in Merlin's name are you talking about, Ronald?"

"You were out with Draco Malfoy last night!"

Harry's eyes widened. "I thought you had a Ministry dinner last night?"

Hermione rolled her eyes, no longer appearing seeming confused. "I did. The Malfoy family donated quite a large sum of money so he, along with other donors, were there last night. Even Anthony was there." She shrugged. "I didn't think it was anything worth mentioning. Wait," her brows furred. "How did you even know about it?"

Ron held up a copy of the Daily Prophet. The third page in held a picture of Hermione and Malfoy shaking hands, the caption below mentioning the movement towards peace. "I don't like it, 'Mione. He has to be up to something."

She rolled her eyes. "Oh, come off it now, Ronald. It's been two years since the war ended. Times have changed."

"But it's Malfoy." He spat. "I don't think you should see him anymore."

"For Merlin's sake! You act as if I'm meeting him by choice. He just so happened to be a donor to the Ministry. I welcomed him, shook his hand, thanked him, and then moved on. There was nothing more to it than that."

"I don't trust him."

"Ron, that's enough." Harry finally interrupted. "You're overreacting."

"Harry, it's – "

"Malfoy, I'm aware. I don't like it anymore than you do, but Hermione says it's nothing and I trust her. And you should too."

Ron and Hermione both stared at him, startled. He wanted to be offended that they would be so surprised that he would defend Hermione, but he knew they had a point. More often than he cared to admit, he sided with Ron over her, especially when it came to people like Malfoy. What he said was true, however, and he trusted Hermione. So if she said it was nothing, he would trust her. She was his best friend; she deserved at least that much from him.

...

"Hey, Harry." Hermione took a sip of her Starbucks.

"Hm?" He didn't look up, but rather moved the rook on the chess board forward. He had grown so accustomed to playing Wizarding Chess that Muggle chess felt odd. He constantly had to bite back the urge to command his pieces to move. "Check."

She moved a knight in front of her king, defending it. "Can I ask you a question?"

He looked up at her, his interest suddenly peaked. Hermione had never stopped to ask if she could ask him a question, she had just always asked. "Of course."

"Why haven't you been dating?"

"What?"

Hermione sighed and moved her queen three spaces forward. "It's been almost four years since you broke up with Ginny. At the time we had the war and I understood, but there's peace now, Harry. Yet you still aren't seeing anyone. Why?"

"I haven't found anyone." He shrugged.

"You haven't been searching."

"I don't think I should have to." He took a sip of his coffee. "If there's someone out there for me, it'll happen when the time is right. I don't know when I'll find her or if I already have. She could be some run of the mill Muggle or someone at the Ministry. Or maybe I already know her, but I just haven't realised that she's the one. Regardless, there is no point in me settling for someone who doesn't suit my fancy. What if I beginning seeing someone and then one day I wake up and realise that I'm in love with someone else? That isn't fair, isn't right for anyone. I'll find the right person when the time is right. I don't know when it will happen, but I like to think that one day it will." He moved his bishop two spaces backwards. "Checkmate."

Hermione stared at him, a distant but thoughtful look in her eyes, as if she wasn't looking at him, but rather through him. It was slightly unnerving. He coughed after a few moments, bringing her attention back. She shook her head, looked down at the board, and smiled. "Oh, well, I suppose you're right." He wasn't sure whether she meant the reason he gave her or the game. He didn't have the chance to ask, because she stood up. "I just remembered that there is something I need to do. Would you mind packing this up, Harry?"

He stared back at her for a moment before he nodded. "Sure, of course. I'll see you back at the flat later then?"

She grinned. "Thank you." She leaned down and kissed him on the cheek. "I'll see you later tonight." She said before turning and running off.

Harry touched his cheek and watched her take off. When she was finally out of his sight, he sighed, shook his head, and picked up the game. He would never understand Hermione.

...

That night, sleep refused to come to Harry. He laid in bed for hours staring at the ceiling, tossing and turning, counting snitches. He tried every method he could possibly think of, but sleep was a stubborn opponent and refused to bow. Finally, he sighed and tossed the covers off of himself. Perhaps a warm cup of tea would help.

While he was surprised to see the lights in the lounge on, he was even more surprised to find Hermione there. Dressed in her pyjamas, she was curled on the sofa with a blanket, and a soft jazz melody danced through the air. Harry hadn't realised she had come home, much less gotten so comfortable. When she hadn't come back by the time he retired for the night, he had assumed she was spending the night at Anthony's. Hermione was hardly one to sneak around late at night.

"Fancy a cup of tea?"

She all but jumped up. "Merlin, Harry, you gave me a fright!"

He frowned. "Sorry, didn't mean to."

She shook her head. "No, I suppose it was my fault. I was lost in thought." She put a book on the coffee table. "A cup of tea sounds wonderful, thank you."

Harry eyed her copy of Hogwarts: A History for a moment, before nodding and turning to the kitchen. Something was wrong. He knew Hermione loved that book, so much so that she had it memorized from cover to cover. There was absolutely no reason for her to read it; there was nothing new she could gain from it. The only thing the book did was comfort her. And by now Harry knew her well enough to know that she only ever pulled the book out when something was truly upsetting her.

He returned to the lounge and handed her a cup of tea: light with a touch of honey, how she always took it. She gave him a forced smile and he nodded before sitting beside her. An awkward silence drifted over them, but Harry held his tongue. She would tell him when she was ready, he knew that, so he didn't pressure her. And sure enough, a few minutes later, she sighed and put her cup down.

"I broke up with Anthony today."

Harry's eyes widened. Of all the things she could have told him that was the last one he had expected. "What happened?"

Her fingers toyed with the blanket on her lap. "After what you told me earlier, I realised that I couldn't be with him anymore."

His brows furred, confused. "I don't follow."

She smiled. "What you said at the coffee shop about being with a person and then falling in love with someone else. It made me think that I'm not being fair to Anthony. Not that I'm in love with anyone else." She answered before he could ask. "Not yet, at least. But I don't love Anthony either and I don't think I ever will. He's wonderful, sweet and brilliant, but there's just something..."

"Something missing?" Harry asked, putting his empty teacup down.

"Yes. There isn't something there that should be and it isn't fair for me to lead him on. I tried to explain that to him, but I'm not entirely sure he understood." She admitted, pulling her copy of Hogwarts: A History back onto her lap.

Harry remained silent for a moment, watching her fingers trace the letters on the cover. Whether Anthony believed it or not, Harry knew this break up was hurting her too. She may not have loved him, but she certainly had cared for him, even Harry could see that. So, without thinking about it, his hand brushed against hers. She curled her fingers with his and leaned her head against his shoulder. Harry wrapped his other arm around her shoulder, half hugging her to him.

"You did the right thing." He promised.

She was silent for a moment. "Thank you, Harry."

He smiled softly, although he knew she couldn't see it. "That's what I'm here for, 'Mione."

Harry wasn't sure how long they stayed like that, but he didn't care.

...

Every year, the Ministry held a gala as a fundraiser. All employees of the Ministry, from the Minister of Magic to the secretaries no one really knew, attended to meet and mingle with the guests who paid to attend. It was nowhere near Harry's favourite part of being and Auror, but it was something he had to do. So every year he sucked it up and attended.

The fortunate part was that the tickets to the gala were few and thus rather expensive. It was typically the same people who attended from year to year, which mean the rush of meeting the famous Harry Potter had already faded. His first year had been only a few months after the war had ended and so he never even had a moment to catch his breath. Last year, however, had been significantly easier, because the excitement of the war had faded. So, this year, Harry had high hopes.

"Hermione, are you ready?" He called from his room as he tied his shoes.

"Just a moment more." She answered from her own room.

The gala was a private event, limited strictly to employees of the Ministry and those who bought tickets; not even dates were allowed to attend without a ticket. Employees, however, often accompanied one another as dates. Until recently, Hermione's plan had been to attend the gala with Anthony. That, however, no longer proved to be the case.

Goldstein had not taken the break up well. While he didn't attack Hermione personally, he made his feelings clear. For the past two weeks he had been cold toward her, ignoring her when he could and responding with short, harsh answers when he was forced to speak to her. Harry could tell it was hurting Hermione, whom, he assumed, still wished to remain friends. But Goldstein was too stubborn, too hurt, to do such. It made Harry wonder if his feelings had developed further than anyone had thought.

So in an attempt to cheer Hermione up, Harry had offered to be her date. He knew that people would hold their tongues about the break up if Harry was with her. And this way, he would be able to distract her from Goldstein's presence. Besides, this way, they could keep each other sane. Hell, they might even be able to enjoy the gala.

"I'm ready." Hermione told him, standing in the doorway of his room.

Harry's eyes widened when he saw her. Her robes were deep red in colour; they were long, with the hems brushing against the floor, and tight enough to show her curves, but not so tight that they seemed uncomfortable. Her make-up was light, but flattering, and her hair, tamed down to soft curls, was pinned up in a loose, but elegant bun. She was beautiful.

Shaking himself from his awe, Harry grinned at her before putting an arm to his waist and bowing down to her. "My lady." He said, holding his other hand out to her.

She rolled her eyes, but smiled regardless. "Good sir." She answered, taking his hand.

They shared a playful laugh as he led her to the lounge, carrying her hand as if they were from earlier times. Once there she moved her hand from his and locked her arm in his instead. Harry counted to three, before he apparated them to the gala.

...

The first half of the evening passed as Harry had expected it to. They had arrived at the gala, shortly after eight o'clock, which allowed them to blend in with everyone else who was still arriving. They spent the majority of their time mingling with the other employees they rarely saw or the guests who attended. It was always small talk, ranging from their work to their friends to the latest Quidditch match. No one dared to mention Anthony Goldstein or the break up. Hermione remained at his side the entire evening, a smile on her lips and her arm locked in his.

"I'm beginning to get thirsty. Fancy a drink?" Harry asked.

"Absolutely." She answered.

"Wait here." He gestured towards the seats set aside. "I'll get them."

Hermione nodded and took her arm out from his, which, honestly, felt rather strange. Over the past few hours, he had grown accustomed to being so close to her, to her touch always lingering beside him. It almost felt... empty with her gone. Harry shook his head, banishing the ridiculous thoughts from his mind, before he turned to fetch their drinks.

When he returned a few minutes later, two glasses of champagne in hand, he found her gaze focused elsewhere and a slight frown on her lips. Harry's brows furred slightly and he turned to match her gaze. Across the room, but still in plain sight, Anthony Goldstein stood chatting with Draco Malfoy. But what caught Harry's attention was the pretty raven-haired witch on Goldstein's arm who was mimicking her date and talking with Malfoy's date. A frown tugged at his lips and he put the glasses on the table.

"Come on." He said, bringing Hermione's attention back to him. He held his hand out to her. "Let's dance."

She stared at him for a moment before a small grin spread across her lips and she nodded before taking his hand. It was only once they reached the designated dance floor that Harry remembered he was never particularly good at dancing.

As if she were reading his mind, Hermione laughed. "Don't worry," she said as the song changed to another, softer melody. She wrapped her hands around his neck and his arms automatically hugged her waist. "Just relax."

Harry nodded. He suddenly felt all the more comfortable with the return of Hermione's touch. They danced in a small circle, following the slow rhythm. "Ignore them, 'Mione."

She tensed slightly in his arms. "Am I that obvious?" She didn't wait for his answer. "He's trying to make me jealous."

"Is it working?"

She didn't answer him at first. "Would it be awful of me to say it was?"

The sudden urge to say yes appeared, but Harry quickly banished back. He wasn't even sure where it had come from. "Absolutely not." He answered. Just because Hermione hadn't loved Goldstein didn't mean she hadn't cared for him and held their time together precious. "Although you have no reason to be jealous of her."

"She's beautiful."

"Not compared to you."

He could practically hear her roll her eyes. "Harry..."

"I mean it, 'Mione. You look beautiful tonight. She's cannot even compare."

He wasn't sure whether or not she actually believed him, but he felt her relax and she rested her head against his shoulder. "Thank you," she mumbled.

Harry smiled and held her a little closer.

...

The following week, they had dinner at the Burrow. Charlie had come home for a visit and Molly had taken it as an occasion to prepare a large feast. They made an evening of it. The boys and Ginny even had a small Quidditch match in the backyard, while Hermione and Fleur helped Molly with the dinner. After dinner, they settled in the living room, laughing at old stories and catching up with one another. Now that they were all grown and had their own busy lives, it wasn't often so many of them could get together.

At some point, long after it had grown dark, Harry excused himself and slipped outside. The air was fresh, but crisp and he took a deep breath. He loved his flat and he loved living in Muggle London, but sometimes he missed the serenity that came with the Burrow. Yes, inside it was usually rather noisy, but outside was often another matter. It was so isolated, so far from the city, that he could easily find a peace that London couldn't give him. It was a refreshing change.

"Mind if I join you?"

Harry smiled and scooted to the side on his bench. "Of course."

Ginny smiled back and took a seat beside him. She tilted her head up and gazed at the stars; they were incredibly bright tonight. Harry turned his head back to the sky. He and Ginny sat there, content with the silence. It was at least ten minutes later when she spoke.

"How are you?" She asked. "I feel as if I haven't seen you in quite some time. Well, besides today."

"I'm here every Sunday for breakfast, Ginny." He reminded her.

"But not for very long, and even then, you hardly stay two hours." She explained. "Especially since you occasionally used to stop by for dinner, too. It has been ages since you've done that."

"I know, but I've actually taken to making dinner every night now. Hermione prepares breakfast and I am in charge of dinner. It's a sort of agreement we came to."

"I see." She mumbled. "You know, I am a little surprised she is still with you. She had been so determined to get her own flat after that break up."

"I don't mind." Harry shrugged. "And to be perfectly honest, I think I prefer it this way."

Ginny was silent for a moment, but Harry felt her gaze shift to him. "You're in love with her, aren't you?"

He turned to her with wide eyes. "What? No! Have you gone mad, Ginny? Of course not!"

A soft smirk tugged at her lips. "I've seen countless people ask you that and you always give the same exasperated answer. But you know, Harry Potter, I don't think I have ever seen you so defensive about it before."

A frown tugged at his lips. "I wasn't defensive. I just wasn't expecting you to say such a thing." And even though what he said was true, it didn't sound believable, even to him. Why had he been so defensive?

She turned her gaze back to the sky. "I used to be jealous of her, you know." She admitted. "I'm not anymore, of course, but back when we were in school, I was. The two of you were always so close that I couldn't help it. She has always been there for you."

"Because she's my best friend."

"Perhaps. Or perhaps there's more to it than that." Ginny mused. "Before there was always someone in the way – Cho, Ron, even me – but that's not the case anymore. It was only a matter of time, really, and now it's just the two of you. You're finally in a situation where you can realise that. You can finally let her in."

Harry knew he should stop her, because she was wrong. Hermione was his friend and that was it. There was nothing more between them. But, for some reason he couldn't explain, he was curious. "What do you mean by 'finally let her in'?"

"Ever since the war, you've been scared to let anyone get closer to you. You can deny it all you want, Harry, but it's the truth. I don't know if it's because you're scared of losing them or what, but you haven't been the same since. Perhaps that's why we never worked out – you wouldn't let me in and I didn't work hard enough. But Hermione never gave up on you. It's not in her nature to let something go so easily. She has always been there for you, and now look at the two of you; I don't think she and Ron were ever this close. I really think it's your time." She stood up and brushed herself off. "You need to stop living it fear – it doesn't suit the great Harry Potter." She gave him an encouraging smile.

And then Ginny left before he could say anything more. Which, for once, he was glad about, because his head was so clouded, so confused, that he had no idea what to think, much less say.


But I am afraid of trying


Note: This fic is way longer than I had originally planned, but I'm still paranoid that I'm moving too fast. I'm sorry if this seems rushed. I actually did take my time with this chapter. I've been trying to strengthen Harry and Hermione's friendship, so I can move it to another level in the next chapter. I already have the next chapter written. It's a little over 4000 words. I still need to edit it and do some touch ups, but I'll try to have it up before I go back to school on the tenth. My classes start on the twelfth, so it definitely should be up by then.

Also, I'm sorry if the chapters seem like they're cutting kind of weird. I planned and wrote this with the intention of it being a one-shot. I actually wrote and kept it on my computer like one giant one-shot. But since it's over 12,000 words, I split it into three chapters.

This fic is dedicated to fadsforwhatever, a fellow fandom girl who I found out lives only two floor below me.

Happy New Year! Review, please.