Author's Note: Nothing much to say here. I hope that you enjoy this chapter!

Disclaimer: I don't own Harry Potter, J.K. Rowling does.

Nineteen Years - Chapter Ten

I'm here for you. I'm always here.

Harry walked into the Ministry of Magic, just like any other work day. Several wizards and witches were now used to the man who defeated Voldemort walking through the corridors, so Harry didn't receive the "It's the Boy-Who-Lived!" and flashes of cameras as often – and he didn't mind that one bit.

"Hello, Mr. Potter!" said Miss Jenkins, the secretary for the Auror Department.

"Hello, Miss Jenkins. How are you?"

The young secretary shrugged and said, "Same as always, I suppose. We've got a new guy coming to the Auror Department. Don't know who he is. Mr. Jacobs wouldn't tell me. But he'll be moving into your office, if you don't mind.

"No, I don't mind at all. I think there would be enough room. See you later, Miss Jenkins."

The secretary smiled at Harry as he walked down to his office, which was somewhat organized. He looked at the two pictures he had on his desk; a picture of him, Ron, and Hermione, and one of his parents.

Suddenly, the door opened, revealing a stumbling, red-haired young man.

"R-Ron?"

"Harry! Forgot to tell you that I was getting a job. Well, I reckon that you know now!" Ron said, carrying his supplies to the opposite side of the office.

Harry didn't know what to say. Ron was now sharing an office with him; his best mate, he corrected himself. Harry actually felt excited.

"I've been practicing spells for the past year. Well, the defending spells and such. I even bought a book and read it. Can you believe that?"

"Actually, I can't," Harry laughed, and Ron joined in.

"You've been stuck in this office for more than a year?"

"No. I started out in a small, stuffy office for the first half of the year. Then I got this office. I suppose that they felt bad that because of their stupid mistake that I 'died'."

"What mistake, mate?"

"Remember when I was in the hospital?" Harry began, and Ron nodded, willing him to continue. "I ended up getting trapped by Death Eaters when I was alone. Apparently, my partner forgot the location of where we were supposed to meet –"

"You got caught by Death Eaters?" Ron asked, and Harry nodded.

"There's a small group left out there."

"So they shot a killing curse at you?"

"Not at me, actually…" Harry trembled a bit.

"Did it bounce off a surface, then?" Ron asked – he was obviously very curious about the situation.

"No." Harry didn't want to say anything more, but Ron kept asking him over and over again.

"Come on, Harry! What happened?" Ron urged him to continue, now more curious than ever.

"Okay, okay, I'll tell you. They must have gotten a strand of Hermione's hair and made Polyjuice Potion. What I'm guessing is that they made one of their slaves drink the potion, therefore making them look like Hermione. The Death Eaters put me into tons of securing charms and made me watch…they made me watch them torture 'her'! And when they shot the Avada Kedavra at the person that I thought was Hermione, I kind of…broke out of the securing charms and jumped in front of her…"

Ron stood and stared at Harry, completely dumbfounded. "Wow, mate."

"I'm sure that you would have done the same thing, Ron."

"I know. It's just…you love her, don't you?"

"Wh-what? I never said –"

"You don't need to say anything, Harry. I get it."

"Ron, that's not what I was saying! You would have done the same thing!" Harry defended.

"And I love her – that's why I would have done the same thing. But I broke her heart too many times. Hermione made that pretty clear, and I've accepted that we can't be together that way. You, Harry…you'll always have a chance with her."

Harry looked down, and he didn't even believe that Ron was saying that until he matched the words to Ron's moving mouth.

"Listen, mate, I just want the three of us to all be together again, just like the good old times, whether or not one of us is dating Hermione. With you always hesitating to make a move, I'm kind of out of the loop."

"Can we stop talking about Hermione?" Harry asked. His mind was spinning faster than the speed of light.

"Okay. If you want to talk about it…I'm perfectly fine with you and Hermione being a 'couple'. Just letting you know," Ron finished.

"Er…well, let me explain how this whole Auror thing works…" and so Harry explained everything to Ron, and his friend listened to what ever he had to say.

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"Harry?" Hermione's voice rang throughout Twelve Grimmauld Place.

"Just me," Harry replied. Hermione ran up to him and gave him a welcoming hug; she always did that ever since he 'died'.

"How was your day?"

"Interesting," Harry began. Hermione's face grew to a curious state, and Harry continued. "Ron's my new partner."

"Ron? Ron Weasley, an Auror? Why didn't he tell us?"

Harry shrugged. "He said that he forgot."

"Typical Ronald," Hermione said while rolling her eyes. "How was he?"

"We talked a bit, then I just explained how life as an Auror is like, and he listened."

"Well, I've got dinner ready. When you're hungry," Hermione said, walking into the kitchen.

Harry said his thanks and walked upstairs to change into more suitable clothing for dinner. While he was trying to tame his messy hair, he thought about his day. Ron was his new partner. Harry looked at the pros and cons of the situation. There was an equal amount of each. Harry already felt uncomfortable with talking about Hermione with Ron…after all, Ron and Hermione had been romantically involved at one point. Was Ron really alright if Hermione dated someone else? He seemed to be okay with any future situation on the subject, but Harry didn't want his best mate's heart to break. With his thoughts still whirling about in his head, Harry walked downstairs and into kitchen.

"Harry, you forgot your glasses!" Hermione said as he entered the room.

"Oh…right…" Harry had been so lost in his thoughts that he forgot to wear them. "Accio –"

"No!"

"Huh?"

"I mean…you look nice without them…" Hermione blushed. Harry knew what she was talking about; his stunning emerald eyes seemed to stand out more without his glasses – Ginny had told him so when they were dating in his sixth year.

"If you say so," Harry smiled and sat down, stumbling to find his chair. Hermione laughed with her face still read from blushing.

"I made a muggle dish that my mum taught me to make a while back. It's called spaghetti."

"I remember making that for the Dursleys."

"Oh! Do you think tastes good?"

"I never had it. They didn't think that I deserved a great dinner, so they made me eat a slice of bread," Harry said, looking down.

Hermione had complete sympathy on her face, but then she leaned in towards his ear and whispered, "Well, I think that you deserve a great dinner."

A huge grin made its way across Harry's face. Hermione's whisper sent shivers down his spine. They ate and talked about Harry's day at work. Hermione was always asking what happened – she seemed to be getting protective of him lately – and she wanted to be sure that he was alright. They both knew that every time Harry left in the morning, you could never be sure if he was going to return. For the three days a week that Hermione went to work, they traveled together. Harry didn't mind it one bit; he actually look forward to the days that she was working.

Harry knew that she now had more than enough money to purchase her own home, but she continued to live with him – he didn't mind that either. Harry loved her company more than anything else. He looked up at his best friend who was eating her spaghetti easily (unlike Harry who was struggling to get the food to stay in his mouth – Hermione had laughed at this and said that he can defeat Voldemort but he can't get spaghetti in his mouth).

She usually only wore makeup on special occasions, but today Harry spotted neatly worn eyeliner, mascara, and a neutral tone of eye shadow.

"What?" Hermione asked when she saw that Harry had been studying her face very carefully.

"Are you wearing –"

"Oh my gosh! It looks horrible, doesn't it?" Hermione said, covering her face with her hands.

"No, not at all!" Harry began. The next words slipped from his mouth, "You look beautiful."

"Really?"

"Yes," Harry replied, causing them both to blush. Hermione slowly removed her hands from her face.

Harry remembered that throughout all their years at Hogwarts, Hermione was the only girl in their year that didn't wear makeup or straighten her hair to make it look smooth and silky. She was the only one who wasn't desperate for a boyfriend or wear tight skirts. Hermione was unique, and that's what Harry admired about her.

But now she was wearing makeup. She was growing up – she was no longer that short, young girl with the bushy hair – Hermione was a woman.

"Are you alright, Harry?" Hermione said, reaching her arm over the table and placing it on his forehead.

"Yeah, I'm okay."

"Then why do you keep staring at me?"

"S-Sorry." Harry looked down, embarrassed that he was caught staring at her. Hermione didn't push the subject, though. She was always understanding like that.

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Christmas came faster than Harry had remembered; the past few months speeded past him. With him and Ron as partners, their friendship had gotten stronger than ever. Harry had a confusing friendly/somewhat romantic relationship with Hermione. They hadn't "almost kissed" ever since that day a few weeks before his birthday, but they had their wordless moments. He remembered one night when there was a thunderstorm...

Hermione stood at the foot of Harry's bed with tears falling from her chocolate eyes.

"Hermione? What's wrong?" Harry asked her.

Hermione didn't reply. Instead, he walked towards Harry and sat next to his hips while facing him. After locking eyes for several minutes, Hermione laid her body over Harry's and buried her face into his neck. Harry was extremely perplexed by this, but softly stroked her hair – she obviously needed some comfort, whatever was going on.

Suddenly, a loud roar of thunder shook the room a bit, and Hermione's grip on Harry tightened.

"I'm scared," she said with a shaky voice.

Harry wrapped his arms around her and rubbed her back gently, offering all the comfort that he could.

"It's okay, Hermione. I'm here. I'm always here."

Harry smiled at the memory of the thunderstorm and wished that he could relive it again.

Hermione walked into the same room that Harry was in (the sitting room, of course) and sighed. She was holding a letter.

"The Weasleys are on vacation until February, so we won't be going over there for Christmas. Pig just flew into the kitchen with the letter. Here," Hermione said, handing Harry the letter.

Dear Harry and Hermione,

The Weasleys

Harry sighed along with Hermione. They always celebrated Christmas with the Weasleys.

"I hope they have a nice time," Hermione said, flipping her hair back over her shoulder. Harry nodded.

"I wonder where they went; it doesn't say."

"Probably just for safety reasons."

"The only real threat to anybody is the small amount of Death Eaters. They wouldn't want the Weasleys, they'd want me."

"True," Hermione said in agreement. "And you and Ron haven't even confronted Death Eaters yet!"

Hermione looked at Harry and read him like a book. "You haven't confronted Death Eaters…right?"

"N-Not really…"

"Harry! You're supposed to tell me these things!"

"It was a few small situations. Really, it's nothing to get worried about!"

"I can't believe that you wouldn't trust me to know these 'situations'!"

"I trust you with my life, Hermione!" Harry screamed in protest. "It's just that we're not supposed to let too many people know about our operations."

Hermione placed a hand on her hip. "And why is that?"

"Because if I did tell you, than it would put your life in danger."

"I know what it's like to have my life in danger, Harry."

"I'm aware of that. But if I lost you…" Harry looked down. He didn't need to continue.

Hermione put an arm around him, without needing words. Harry knew that she was sorry, and he forgave her. She usually won arguments with Harry, but when it came to him protecting her, Hermione had no chance in winning the argument.

Harry snapped back from his thoughts and remembered that it was Christmas morning. He got Hermione a present, but it definitely wasn't as special as what he had given her the year before; a miniature library. But, he had gotten her plenty of books to restock that library, since she had read through practically half of the bookshelves.

Harry looked in the direction of the kitchen and realized that Hermione was doing a lot of cooking lately, since he hadn't had much time to do so. But now he had the time, so it was perfect for a special Christmas breakfast. Quickly, Harry came up with an excuse for Hermione to go upstairs and keep herself busy for at least a half an hour.

While she went up the staircase, Harry rushed into the kitchen and decided to make Hermione's favorite muggle breakfast: pancakes. He knew perfectly well how to make them, since he had made them almost every morning for the Dursleys.

"Accio pancake mix and supplies!" Harry whispered, making sure that Hermione hadn't heard him. He still hadn't mastered nonverbal spells, and although there was a ninety percent chance that it would work, he couldn't be sure just yet. Harry made a mental note to ask Hermione to teach him how to use the nonverbal spells.

After about twenty minutes, Harry looked at the Christmas breakfast that he had set up for him and Hermione. The theme was green and red, so the tablecloth and decorations were transformed to fit the colors. Steam was emerging from the two pancake stacks which were each topped with small square of butter and a decent amount of syrup.

"Hermione!" Harry called his friend.

"Yes?"

"Can you…er…come down here please?"

Hermione approached a few feet away from the doorway (not being able to see what was inside the kitchen) and Harry jumped behind her and put his hands over her eyes.

"Harry!" Hermione laughed. "What on Earth are you doing?"

"You'll see," he whispered as he led her into the kitchen, still blinded. Carefully, he faced her towards the table and removed his hands to show her what he had set up.

Hermione gasped and covered her mouth with her hands. "Oh my goodness, Harry! This is…amazing! Did you do this?"

Harry nodded. Hermione ran to him and jumped into the air, and Harry caught her. She wrapped her arms around his neck. "Happy Christmas," Harry said.

"Harry Christmas! Thank you so much! It's gorgeous!"

Hermione finally relaxed and they sat down. Harry thought that just by seeing her so happy like this was the best Christmas gift of all.

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Winter time slowly turned into spring. Ron had returned from his vacation in February as planned, and it was all Harry heard about at work for the following weeks.

"Hermione!" Harry screamed as he wondered where his friend was as he came home from another day of his job.

There was no response.

"Hermione! Where are you?" Harry rushed into the kitchen, and realizing that she wasn't there, he checked everywhere on the ground floor. "Hermione! This isn't funny!"

Harry apparated up the stairs with his heart beating faster than ever. He checked every single room and finally checked her bedroom. His jaw dropped and tears emerged from his eyes. Harry was ready to kill someone right then and there.

Hermione was tied up and a few Death Eaters were smirking at Harry.

"Let…her…go…" Harry's entire body tensed up and he clutched his wand as if it were his lifeline.

"A little angry, are we?" One of the Death Eaters, who seemed to be their leader, said. "We'll let your sweet Hermione go when you give yourself to us."

Harry took out his wand, as did the other Death Eaters. "I suppose you want to know if she's really Hermione. You really fell for it last year, you know. Tell him, you filthy mudblood. Tell him who you are," the Death Eater said as he took off the gag in her mouth.

"Harry…I-It's me, Hermione," she began, looking at the other Death Eaters with pure fear.

"You see, Harry, we've extracted a memory from her and took a look in our pensieve. It was her…happiest…memory. Tell him, Hermione," the Death Eater said with an evil smirk. "Tell Harry about your happiest memory."

Hermione looked up at Harry with saddened brown eyes. "Go on, Hermione. You just need to tell him those two words."

"T-The thunderstorm."

Author's Note: Dun dun dun! Cliffhanger! (With some added cuteness about the thunderstorm memory). For you confused people, go back to the part where Harry remembers the thunderstorm when he comforted Hermione. Please review:D