Disclaimer: I do not own HP. :-)

Hermione woke with a start as she looked beside her side of the bed. No one was there. Strange as it was, she had never wondered about her loneliness for nine years now. So why was tonight (or today rather) so different?

Her alarm clock beeped three. Hermione rose and slipped on her silk nightrobe. She descended down the stairs and brewed a mug of coffee. She sat on the dining chair and gazed at the black, empty sky. The moon had waned in light and was awaiting the sun for its morning glory. Although she couldn't make the shapes out, she could see the silhouettes of falling leaves. She placed her mug down and walked over to her sink countertop, placing her hands on the handles of her windows. She opened the windows slightly, to welcome the breeze of fall into her home. The sea was supposed to be thrashing at this time of hour, but she looked to see and it was calm. She cursed silently, leaving her nothing else to blame for lack of sleep.

Draco Malfoy had not come back to visit her.

Not that it mattered, right? She didn't like the fact that she had a mudblood murderer in her house or let alone visiting her area. She just hated him there. She hated his messy blonde hair that she just wanted to run her fingers in, his eyes that she wanted to lose herself in forever, his lips that she badly wanted to kiss…

Her mind's racing again.

Stop it, Hermione, she thought. You're better than this.

Her thoughts were off-clock again, she concluded. An hour had passed and the sun was beginning to show itself. And she found herself surrendering to the call of sleep as she lay her head on her table.

"One more bottle of firewhiskey, please." Harry Potter (or rather Barnabus Beezley) ordered. The barman at The Londoner handed him an ice-cold bottle and uncorked it for his customer.

Harry watched the lively crowd laugh and drink the night away. He checked his watch and it read TWO AM. Hermione was asleep. How he had missed her so.

He knew he hadn't spent time with her much ever since he felt differently about her and he wished he were given the luxury. But he knew Voldemort was at hand and he knew that his ally Draco Malfoy knew too.

"Hermione, can you come into the common room for a while?" Harry called from the fireplace area.

Hermione, clad in a nightgown, descended from her quarters.

"What is it?"

Harry breathed heavily.

"I have to go."

Hermione eyed him suspisciously.

"Harry, it's half past eleven. Professor McGonagall's going to wring you by the arse—"

Harry stood up from his chair and walked over to her.

"You don't understand."

"Understand? Oh I do understand completely. Must I refresh your memory to the time in our first year when we were sneaking around the out-of-bounds area…"

Harry slapped his face in frustration.
"It's not like that!"

"Then what is 'like that'?"

Hermione raised her eyebrows and her eyes started to tear up as Harry explained himself.

"He's back, isn't he?"

Harry nodded solemnly.

"Yes."

Hermione leapt into his arms.

"I hope you don't get killed off…"

Harry shook his head no.

"I won't die, I promise."

Hermione kissed him lightly and Harry's heart fluttered.

She did love him.

"Do you love me?"

She nodded.

"Now you're making it so hard for me to leave."

Hermione smiled.

"Well, thinking of me will most probably heal your wounds more quickly."

She ran her fingers through his jet-black hair and his emerald eyes shone. They kissed again and the fire flickered noiselessly. Harry knew he couldn't let go but he knew he had to. There was no time.

He quickly let go and Hermione hugged him one last time.

"Be safe."

"Goodbye. See you when the war ends."

Hermione wiped tears away.

"Harry, wait! Harry!"

"Harry?"

Harry Potter gasped and cleared his throat.

"Isn't Harry Potter dead?"

"No, he isn't. He's my best friend and he wrote to me."

Harry's chest inflated.

"Ron?"

The red-headed stranger popped out.

"Harry?" he whispered excitedly so as not to cause a commotion.

"Ron?"

"Harry?"

They couldn't believe it.

Harry hugged his best friend so tight, Ron had to wiggle out of his grip.

"Blimey, mate, and to think You-Know-Who weakened you…"

Harry glared at him, not wanting to remember his defeat against the Dark Lord.

"Oh, right, sorry."

Ron walked over to the bar and bought two new bottles to celebrate their reunion.

"Mind if I join you?"

Harry turned to nod but his eyes and jaw dropped in surprise.

A red-headed woman walked over and boy, was Harry caught off guard. She resembled Ron a bit actually but she was pretty (no offense, Ron). Her eyes were the most beautiful shade of brown, her hair was flaming red, and she was quite fit.

"S-s-sure."

Ron nudged him in the rib.

"You remember Ginny, right?"

Ginny waved hello.

Harry dropped his glass.

"Ginny?"

"I believe Ron had already mentioned my name. How are you, Harry?"

She hugged him and Harry hugged back.

"Oy! You're going ter pay fer that mass, ya hear, Beezly?"

"Beezly?" The Weasley siblings turned to Harry.

He laughed for the second time in nine years.

"Long story."

Ginny leaned over to the bar as the three of them were sitting on stools, drinking firewhiskey and Harry caught a whiff of her perfume.

Somehow, that hole in his heart that Hermione had once filled, was slowly dissipating. He smiled at Ginny and she smiled back. It was a good hour.