Mrs. Granger sat at the kitchen table with her daughter sipping freshly made tea with a dash of sugar and a lemon squeeze. She eyed her daughter suspiciously after several long moments without a word. This was more than unusual.

Hermione almost always had something to say, something to comment on, something to correct. After all these years she grew to enjoy hearing her daughter's anecdotes about her strange friends and facts about her world. The smile these topics brought could not be duplicated.

On an ordinary day, Hermione would call and announce her intent to visit. Today she came over and caught her mother and father completely by surprise. They hadn't had anything planned but besides the fact that their daughter was a witch, she stayed on routine and was fairly ordinary. There was no smile to speak of today; there was only a sigh and an occasional mutter.

Mr. Granger, at the arrival of his daughter, gave her a hug and a kiss on the forehead, told her to "stay perk, love" something he always did, and retreated to the den where he could finish watching the Saturday game. He knew better than to pry into his daughter's love life and based on the look she held when he opened the door, he knew it could be nothing but the kind of trouble only a boy could bring.

Every now and then Hermione could hear her father cheer for his team and shout at the referee from the den. It was more nostalgic than anything. Her father was not a very athletic man but he rather liked watching friendly competition every now and again. She laughed on the inside and suppressed a smile, then looked up at her mother who was waiting patiently for an explanation.

"Is there something you'd like to say, Hermione?" Mrs. Granger added another squeeze of a lemon half to her tea and sipped politely. She knew it was only a matter of time before she spoke up. "You've been awfully quiet."

"Well…," Why has talking been so hard these last few days? "I wanted to ask if, – I wanted to know rather, how you knew Dad was the man you would marry and settle down with."

Her mother's eyebrows rose for a split second then went back down. "Oh?" she put down her tea cup and held the side of her face with one hand, elbow on the table. "And what would make you wonder that?"

"He proposed to me last night, mum. He preached how we were meant to be and…" she began to tear up. She felt so bad. She hadn't cried in front of her mother in a very long time.

"Oh, darling, it can't have been so bad? When a man asks you for your hand, he usually has a reason for doing so, even if that reason is dead off. Did you accept?"

She shook her head no and wiped her eyes. "I shot him down and made him feel awful about himself and awful about me. I said things to him in the heat of the moment that I would never say otherwise. Ron has always been hot tempered but it was my fault this time. I made him so angry that I was positive that he'd drag my name through the mud with our friends and his family."

Mrs. Granger handed Hermione a chocolate toffee and sighed. "Honestly, Hermione. Did he drag your name through the mud?"

"Well no, but –"

"Hermione, I wouldn't worry about it. He's a big boy and he can take care of himself. He's going to remember all your reasons for telling him no and come back happier for it. Don't let him take away your beautiful smile, dear."

In the den, her father could be heard mumbling something about being too young to get engaged anyway. This brought out a small smile that just barely reached her eyes and she nodded in conclusion. "You're right, I know you are. Harry just as much told me the same thing. I'm only terrified to be around him now; I have no idea what to say to him. I still have to go over there for dinner tomorrow and act like nothing happened." Acting like nothing happened… sounds like Harry and Ginny. Wait a minute… Her sudden revelation caused her to lift up from her seat. She rushed to hug her mom and dad and insisted she'd see them again soon.

An hour later, Ginny Weasley received a very cryptic message from Hermione, stating how very important it was that they talk tomorrow before dinner. The red head felt her gut sink. She'd managed to get this far without having to talk about it with anyone. Harry was a sour subject for her as far as any of the Weasleys were concerned: No one mentioned their break up and they let them ignore each other. Still, Ginny could feel everyone's desire for the two to make up, including Harry's. She wasn't sure if it would be any less awkward even if they did get back together. Wait, would it? No. No, it doesn't matter now. I've made up my mind. I'm happier where I am.

It still hurt her to see him around but there was only one more month until she returned to Hogwarts to redo her sixth year and then she'd never have to see him again. He was supposed to be going into Auror training and then right into open field employment for the Auror's office at the Ministry. At least, that's what he said he'd wanted back when they were an item. It would do me wonders if he didn't change his mind.

Hearing his name wasn't so bad. She could easily tune out any conversation with his name in it after a few months of ignoring his existence. It was selfish of her to think she was the only one in pain. Especially after all that's happened. But it did her good to imagine a Harry-free future, even though the majority of her younger years had her dreaming of becoming the future Mrs. Potter.

"Dreams can always change for the better." It was something she told herself every morning. The best part was that she was starting to believe it.

She'd made a mistake agreeing to play quidditch with the boys yesterday. It was only obvious that they would have invited him to play as well. Since the start of the holidays she'd been cooped up in her room or hanging out at Hermione's flat, sometimes spending the night. Hermione's work days were short because she was only an assistant and she didn't mind Ginny being there without her. Ginny was sure that would change if she didn't explain her Harry situation "in full detail," as the letter said. The problem wasn't telling someone. The problem was admitting it had happened at all. If she ignored him and ignored her memories then she never had to relive it. She never had to see the pained expression on his face if he was invisible to her. Ginny had disregarding him down to a science. It wasn't fair that Hermione should want to know so long after the event in question. It was moments like these that she considered cutting everyone off and staying at Luna's all summer long, never completely returning to the Burrow. Of course her mother would never allow that. Luckily her mother only had one year left to tell her what to do. After that she would be completely free.

Harry didn't think Hermione would go back on her word. She had promised to come for dinner and his friend was never one for breaking promises. Just to be sure of this, however, he resolved to stop by her apartment and drag her back no matter what. He apparated to her doorway and knocked twice, really wishing she would take off her apparation wards for at least him, though he couldn't really blame her for being careful. He didn't like being in her building's hallway after finding out that Malfoy lived right across the hall from her.

He knocked again after a few minutes. "Damn it, Hermione." He tried the jiggling the knob and found that the door flew right open. Something wasn't right. Hermione was never the one to leave her door unlocked. "Hermione?" he ventured through her place slowly and kept his wand ready. Her kitchen and living area were empty. His hand found its way to her room doorknob and twisted it open before he was mentally ready to. The sight he saw was one of the most splendidly shocking things he'd ever seen. Sadly, her scream brought him out of his involuntary fantasy.

"Bloody hell, Harry, Get out!"

Clad in nothing but a very small white towel wrapped around her midsection. Her arms were up and her hands were in her hair before he'd interrupted her and there was no doubt in his mind that she was trying something new with it. He wasted no time in gathering as many details as he could before leaving her room seemingly dumbstruck. Her legs were so bloody long, they looked smooth and hairless and before he could stop himself he thought of what it might have been like to touch them. He swore on his life he'd seen the tip of her cleavage. No wait, this is Hermione you're thinking about here, mate. Regardless of what he told himself he couldn't stop the bulge from growing in his pants. He'd walked in on something no man had ever seen before. He would treasure it for as long as he could.

She came out in a loose strapless summer dress but all he could only see was that white towel. What came out of his mouth next he couldn't remember. The next couple of minutes were very fuzzy after that. He tuned back in after hearing her call his name a few times.

"Don't you have something to say?" Her arms were crossed and she was tapping her foot.

"I'm… sorry Hermione, I thought something was wrong after you didn't answer the door and I didn't… Honestly, I'm so…" I can't even properly be sorry after seeing that.

"I was getting out of the shower! I didn't think dinner would all of a sudden start early this week." She looked at the clock on the oven. "Honestly Harry, it's just after four!"

"I didn't want you to go back on your word. I wanted to make sure you came and I didn't think an owl would make it here and back before five o'clock…" he was looking down the entire time they spoke. If he looked at her directly, he was sure she'd slap him for the look on his face.

Hermione turned on her heel and crossed her arms. "Look, just forget this ever happened okay?"

"Whatever you say," No chance in hell am I going to forget that so easily. "So are you ready to go now?"

Hermione scoffed and returned to her room. They weren't due for dinner officially until five. Why he was rushing was beyond her. She towel-dried her wet hair and went through it with a fine toothed comb. Its bushiness was a thing of the past.

In the living room, a sketchy smile was plastered on Harry's face, and he was sure it would stay there until he saw Ginny at the Burrow, tactfully averting any eye contact. He sighed at the thought before pushing it away. That was painfully amusing but... bloody hell, why me?