"Now, let me get this straight," Ron said, looking at his hands, which were clasped in front of him. "You're telling me that, on the last night of our last year, you and Harry kissed in the Room of Requirement, then you started a sort of 'friends with benefits' thing, and that's been going on for the last three years?"

I swallowed hard. "Yes."

"And last night, you and Harry slept together in a hotel room in Bath?"

Cringing, I nodded.

We were in the sitting room at the Burrow, and the rest of his family was out (how did I manage to get lucky on that account?). Luna was in the kitchen, preparing dinner, as none of us had actually eaten yet. I'd only eaten half of my salad from my date with Patrick before my escape to the bathroom, and then... well...

"That's not the worst of it though," I grumble.

He gives a short, humorless laugh. "There's more?"

"Two days ago," I began, not daring to look at him, "I met a guy at work. He came in with his daughter, who had some pretty bad burns from bubotuber pus. Right off the bat, I was kind of attracted to him, but figured he was probably married, or at the very least, wouldn't want to complicate things with his daughter. Then, this morning, he showed up at my house, asking me to go to dinner. I accepted, and at dinner, Jack just randomly turned up."

"He what?"

I forged ahead. "He had... overheard an argument I had with Harry... during which he... well, he told me he loved me." Ron's eyes very nearly popped right out of his skull. "We argued over last night, and what that meant, and I ended up blowing him off. Then, at dinner, Jack showed up, playing a recording of our fight."

He sighed, pushing his hair away from his face as he leaned back in his seat. "Bloody hell," he mumbled. "One little secret, and all hell breaks loose."

"Don't I know it."

"Why didn't you tell Luna and me in the first place?" he asked.

I bit my lip. "I don't know. It just seemed like something we should keep between the two of us."

He nodded once. "I guess I can see that. But... did you really think you could keep going on like this, and just keep it under wraps forever?"

"I didn't think it would go this far," I admitted. "I figured, by now, one or both of us would have found someone we wanted to marry, we'd just go back to being friends, and that would be that."

"Did it ever occur to you that maybe, just maybe, you should have been with him?"

I frowned. "No, of course not."

"Really? 'Cause it occurred to pretty much everyone else."

"I beg your pardon?"

Ron laughed slightly. "Some of us actually had a pool going for a while, making bets when you two would finally sh—er, get together." His cheeks colored, and I glared as I registered what he had been about to say. He cleared his throat. "And then this guy Jack, and most of his girlfriends from the past three—"

"Wait, wait," I cut in. "It was just Dianne."

He shook his head. "Actually, the only one who didn't assume there was something between you two was... oh, what's her name... that girl he met at Auror training..."

"Sheila," I provided.

"That's it!" he grinned, snapping his fingers and pointing to me. "Sheila! Yeah, Sheila broke up with him because of something to do with religion."

"She wanted to be a nun."

"Yeah," he grimaced. "Blimey, what a way to be dumped. I felt for him when he told me about that. I said, 'Well, look at it this way, it can't get any worse than—'"

"RON!"

"Bloody hell!"

"Focus!" I took a deep breath before continuing. "So, if every one of his girlfriends except Sheila was accusing him of seeing me on the side, why didn't he tell me?"

Ron sighed, shaking his head again. "Hermione, don't you see? The poor bloke's mad about you! And he was so afraid of ruining your friendship, he did everything in his power to keep it from you. Besides, almost every time he stopped dating a girl, you were still with some other guy. He didn't want to be the guy that tries to steal another guy's girl."

I gazed at the floor, drawing shaky, uneven breaths as I digested this. He really did love me. All this time, and I never knew. How could I have been so stupid?

"Hermione? You okay?"

"I'm not sure," I whispered.

"Anything I can do?"

I shook my head. "No, thank you. I just... I have to fix this."

"Okay," he said uncertainly. "How're you going to do that?"

My first inclination was to say I had no idea. But as I sat there, mulling everything over in my head, I realized something. It smacked me like I'd just run headlong into a brick wall. Every touch, every kiss, every treasured moment with Harry, was far better than any I'd had with anyone else. I'd always been more comfortable with him than even Ron, and with the added physical aspect of our relationship... we seemed to somehow fit together, without even trying. And when Jack had issued his little ultimatum, him or Harry, there was never even a shadow of a doubt in my mind as to who my choice would be. It was Harry.

It was always Harry.

Abruptly, I shot up from my seat, making Ron jump a bit. "Tell Luna I'm sorry, but I'm going to have to take a rain check on dinner. I've got do to something now."

"But, what—wait! Where are you going? Hermione!"

The lights at Grimmauld Place were dark, but I wasn't entirely convinced that Harry wasn't there. It was too early for him to be asleep, but he did sometimes like to sit in the darkness and think. I didn't bother knocking, just bursting in through the front door instead. If the crash of the door didn't announce my presence, Mrs. Black's incessant shrieking would (they never did figure out to get rid of that portrait).

"Harry!" I shouted. "Harry Potter, where the devil are you?"

No answer. I didn't stop there. I scoured the whole house, tossing a few curse words at Mrs. Black ("FILTHY MUDBLOOD! DISRESPECT ME IN MY OWN HOUSE!"), and checking each room twice. When I was finally certain that Harry wasn't there, I went to the next place that came to mind: Godric's Hollow.

I walked purposefully down the main road, which was deserted, save for a jogger, an elderly woman... and a man with messy, black hair. I quickened my pace to a near-run, not taking my eyes off of him. He went into the cemetery, and I full-on sprinted to catch up with him. At last, I reached him, near his parents' grave.

"My God, you're a hard man to find!"

He started, and turned to face me. His face hardened when he saw me. "Well, you found me, didn't you?" he snapped. "So what do you want?"

I let myself relax, meeting his gaze. "I want to apologize."

"Okay," he said tersely.

"You were right," I went on. "Last night did mean something. The past three years have meant something. I just didn't know exactly how much they meant to me, until about an hour ago."

"Sure," he deadpanned, obviously not believing me.

"Harry... Jack heard us arguing in my flat."

His eyes sparked. "What the hell was Jack doing at your flat?"

"He was returning some things I'd left at his place, but that's not the point. The point is, he heard us, and he had the gall to... record it."

"Oh," his face paled.

I gulped. "And he played the recording for Patrick."

"Oh."

"Yeah."

Harry groaned. "Damn that son of a bitch... I'm sorry, Hermione."

I shrugged one shoulder. "It is what it is. I was in the process of trying to get out of the date, anyway."

He lifted an eyebrow. "Prince Charming not so charming?"

Despite the obvious insult to Patrick, I smiled. "He's a nice enough guy, and he'll make a great husband one day... for somebody else." I gave another shrug. "But he and I just... it wouldn't work." I thought I saw the hint of a smile on Harry's relief. I took a breath, preparing myself for what I would say next. "Besides... it wouldn't be fair for me to date him... when I love someone else."

Harry's eyes widened, and they met mine. "You... you love..."

"I love you, Harry," I said it aloud for the first time. His mouth hung open, and he stared at me wordlessly for several seconds. I felt myself frown. "Erm... did you hear me, Harry? I just said I love you. Would you like me to say it again? You seem to be having trouble grasping that conce—mmph!"

He kissed me mid-word, cutting off the need for speech entirely. His arms locked around my waist, holding me tightly, as if he feared I might change my mind and try to make a break for it. I smiled, and responded by putting a hand on his face and kissing him back. He hoisted me up, and my legs found their way around his waist, and my hands moved into his hair. Though my eyes remained closed, the sudden sideways breeze told me he was spinning around. How cliché. Not that I minded.

When we parted, he rested his forehead against mine, smiling bigger than I'd ever seen him do before. "You don't know how long I've wanted you to say that," he said, his voice husky and passionate.

I smiled back at him. "I love you," I repeated for the third time. "Get used to it."

"I don't think I'll be able to."

"Well, I guess that's okay," I leaned closer, "because neither will I."

"Complaining?"

I kissed him gently. "Not in the slightest."

Let me just conclude by saying that I am not a slut. I'm just a girl who make some bad choices, which, in hindsight, ended up leading to the best choice of my life: Harry. And honestly, if those bad choices and hurt feelings were really necessary to get me here, I wouldn't have it any other way.

A/N: I'm mostly satisfied with the ending. I think my biggest problem is the fact that it's over! Sad day! This has been so much fun to write! I want to thank everybody who has reviewed. Your opinions and criticism are greatly appreciated! Also, I want to thank my ex-guy-friend (even if he is a douche) for being the inspiration for this story. And finally, thanks to my pillow, who, even when it gets soaked with my tears, and when I punch it in the face repeatedly, is always there to hold my head up. ;) Peace 'n' love, folks! Check out my other stories! :D