Disclaimer: I do not own Harry Potter.

Always You

By KingOfTheFall

Harry had his eyes closed as Ginny hid the Half-Blood Prince's potions book. He had learned more useful things from its pages than any class he took at Hogwarts. He would miss it but knew that he needed to get rid of the book. After what he did to Malfoy…

He was broken out of his thoughts when a soft pair of lips pressed against his own. And when her tongue had entered his mouth, all he knew was bliss.

"That can stay up here too, you know?" Her voice came out as a faint whisper after she pulled back from their kiss. When Harry opened his eyes, showing off those emerald orbs of his, he did not see what he was expecting. Instead of a fiery red mane and a pale complexion, he saw a halo of auburn. Long tresses of golden brown hair surrounded the porcelain skin of her face and complemented those bright beautiful chocolaty eyes of hers. Her pink lips curved upwards giving him a sultry, seductive smile but he couldn't even process that as he was still in shock of who he had just shared the most amazing kiss with.

Harry felt her hand slowly trail down the right side of his ribs and along his arm leaving goose pimples on his pale skin. He was finding it increasingly difficult to breathe with her touching him like that. Her hand dove under his shirt and was dangerously close to the waistband of his sweatpants, leaving feather light touches slightly below his navel. Just as she made the final leap and tugged his pants down, Harry's world dissolved into black smoke and he felt like he was rapidly falling.

Harry woke up with a jolt and panted heavily. There was sweat all over his body and he felt like he had just fallen off his broomstick (again). He looked towards the window and saw that the sky was still dark but the morning light was just beginning to pour in. Harry rubbed the morning dust out his eyes before putting on his glasses.

"You alright, Harry?" The sleepy voice of Ron broke the silence of the room.

"Yeah, 'm fine. Go back to sleep." Harry muttered back before swinging his legs off the bed and putting on his slippers. He needed to take a shower and come to terms about what he had just dreamt about.

Harry heard Ron make a choking sound like he was trying to stifle his laughter but was failing miserably. Harry turned to Ron in confusion but he was laughing so erratically he had to bite down on his pillow to not wake up the rest of their roommates. The red head pointed downwards and when Harry followed the point of his finger, he understood why.

A flustered Harry made haste and bent down to grab his pajama pants off the floor to cover the front of his boxers. He was sporting a rather prominent erection that was dangerously close to protruding out of the bottom hem of his underwear. Harry certainly did not need Ron to get a look at his junk first thing in the morning.

Looks like he needed to make that shower a cold one.

As his luck would have it, no water came out of the showerhead when he fiddled with the knobs. Letting out a frustrated groan, Harry slammed a fist against the knob and the showerhead decided to turn on right then. The freezing cold water made Harry nearly jump out of his skin but it did its job. His erection had finally gone down allowing him to think properly for the first time since he woke up. Harry put his forehead against the wall and allowed the cold water to pour onto his back not really affected by it anymore. He was wondering about more important things.

Harry just had a dream about his best friend. And it was by no means innocent. He could still feel the phantom touches of her hands on his body. And sweet fuck, that smile she gave him after their kiss. He couldn't get it out of his mind. The pure absurdity of the dream brought a smile to his face.

Honestly, it was a nice change of pace. All last year, he was completely miserable. He was completely shut out from his friends. He hadn't received any letters from them leaving him feeling so lonely and unenergized with the Dursleys. And then came the dreams, if you could call them that. Voldemort was rising. That much was clear to anyone with a brain. But he and Voldemort had a connection that allowed him to see visions of the dark lord committing gruesome acts. The mere sight of him shot white hot pain through his skull and left him spasming when the visions became more and more real. He had to put up with Snape's "tutoring" for months. That vile man only wanted to torture him because of the actions of his father. It wasn't Harry's fault that he reminded that greasy haired git of James.

And worst of all, the Ministry incident that caused Sirius' death. He was killed by Bellatrix Lestrange. His own cousin. Her unexpected Avada Kedavra took away the only family member he had left. They were going to live together somewhere in the countryside. Just him and Sirius. And Buckbeak and Hedwig, of course. He would've finally gotten to live a normal life, away from the Dursleys. Harry had shut himself out from the world for days when Dumbledore had apparated them back. He didn't even think about the duel he had with Voldemort. There were only two things on the distraught teenager's mind during that time: his parents had died because of him and Sirius had died because of him.

Harry was only able to pull himself out his stupor because of the persistence of his two best friends. Because of her. Things were always better because of her. He wouldn't have been able to get to the Philosopher's stone and stop Voldemort/Quirrell without her knowledge of potions. He wouldn't be able to get into the Chamber of Secrets without her intellect. He wouldn't be able to save Sirius from being taken by the dementors without her quick wit. He wouldn't be able to survive past his first task in the Triwizard tournament without her shouting at him from the stands. Harry Potter would not be here today if it weren't for Hermione Granger.

The realization had struck him like Flitwick's Baubillious charm. It all made so much sense. He stood up straight and the water poured directly on top of his head causing strands of his raven locks to fall in front of his eyes. Brushing them away, Harry turned off the shower and muttered Ventus Minima. It was a nifty little trick he picked up from Moody. The incantation of wandless magic created a gust of wind that swirled around its castor and air dried his body in an instant.

Harry made his way back up to his room and saw that Ron was thankfully asleep once again. The rest of his roommates were still fast asleep since it was barely seven o'clock on a Saturday morning. Quietly, Harry grabbed the potions book from where he shoved it between the crack of his mattress and headboard and made his way down to the common room. He settled himself into the corner of one of the long couches and opened up the book. But he didn't get much reading done. His mind was still very much occupied by thoughts of his best friend and the dream.

Several questions floated around the lone teenager's mind. How could he tell her about his newfound feelings? If he did, would it ruin their friendship? There was no way she would return them, would she? This was his sixth year at Hogwarts and it was coming to a close. After he left, he wouldn't be coming back for his seventh. Per Dumbledore's agenda, he had to locate and destroy the remaining horcruxes if they even had a remote chance of defeating Voldemort and his merry bunch of Death Eaters. There was a possibility that Harry might not live to see the end of next year and if that were the case, he wanted to die with at least one less regret burdening him.

Harry's train of thought was interrupted when his fellow Gryffindors gradually filed into the common room. Some of them gave him waves or nods in greeting and he returned them happily. He was glad to have so many friends now. Even if he didn't talk to them all the time, Harry was grateful to have them in his life. It was a complete change from the quarantined lifestyle he led with the Dursleys.

Surprisingly, Ron came down moments later and he was talking animatedly with Seamus about the Chudley Cannons' beater, Joey Jenkins, accidentally hitting the snitch into the hands of Galvin Gudgeons, their seeker. It was quite early for Ron to be awake, a fact that did not go unnoticed as several others shot him annoyed looks for being so loud this early in the morning. The pair arrived where Harry was seated and Seamus went off saying he needed to send an owl to his mum.

Harry never minded Ron's company before but right now he had a lot to figure out. Not wanting to be rude, Harry closed his book and listened half-heartedly as Ron had gone off on yet another tangent about how he could be the starting keeper for the Chudley Cannons after graduating. But he wasn't really listening anymore. Harry noticed a flash of brown out of the corner of his eye and turned to see the girl who plagued his thoughts.

Hermione had just walked out of the upwards spiralling staircase (still in her sleep attire, which consisted of mid-thigh length shorts and a white tee) conversing with Parvarti. Harry could see the small smile on her face, as she, knowing her, was probably regaling the twin about some intricate arithmancy property. All Harry could think about was the feeling of those lips when they were pressed against his own. Her hair hung loose around her shoulders and her curls seemed to bounce with each of her movements. Hermione must've felt someone staring at her because she turned and looked straight at him. As soon as they made eye contact, Hermione's grin turned into a full blown smile and she waved at him. Her chocolate brown eyes were glowing a bright hazel color from the rays of morning light hitting them at just the right angle. If anyone ever asked, Harry would deny that he had a sharp intake of breath from the angelic witch in front of him. That smile was meant only for him. He was starting to take notice and treasure these small instances. Bidding Parvati goodbye, Hermione made her way over to Harry and Ron.

"Hullo boys," she greeted with a smile and they returned it. The smile fell off her face when she noticed the book in Harry's lap but did not voice her concerns. He already knew how she felt about it. Perhaps she didn't like how Harry easily outshined her in potions class. Especially since he was cheating. Well, not really cheating, but the Half-Blood Prince's annotations certainly made it easier for him! But it was mainly because of Harry's Sectumsempra on Draco. Even though the little weasel deserved—no, it was definitely because of that. "Lovely morning, today."

Hermione sat across from her two best friends, folding one leg over the other making Harry even more flustered than he was before. He could see the underside of her creamy white thigh and the bottom of her arse—stop it Harry! Harry internally berated himself at his perverse thoughts while maintaining a facade of being interested in whatever Ron was going on about now. And it looked like Hermione was doing the same. The raven-haired wizard didn't know when or how his feelings had amplified so much in such a short time. Harry thought he could just forget about the dream and blame it on hormones and stress. And as crude as it might sound, he wouldn't have even questioned it had the dream been about Ginny or even Cho. But Hermione was different.

"Say Hermione, did you have any mention-worthy dreams last night?" Ron asked with a mischievous smile tugging at his lips, his cerulean eyes positively gleaming with mirth.

Hermione, confused as to what he was getting at, furrowed her eyebrows and tilted her head slightly to the side making a few strands of her curly hair bounce. Harry thought it was the cutest thing ever.

"No…" she said slowly, trailing off.

Ron's grin seemed to grow even more as he turned his head to look pointedly at Harry.

"You had a helluva dream, didn't ya Harry?" Ron's pale face was rapidly turning red as he struggled to contain his laughter. The boy in question was also feeling flushed but for reasons completely unknown to Ron. Harry didn't know how the golden trio's conversation had taken such an embarrassing turn at his expense but one can always count on Ron Weasley to make any situation worse. Seeing Hermione's look of confusion, Ron turned to explain.

"See Harry here—" The loudmouthed redhead was abruptly cut off when Harry stammered out a Silencio charm. Ron was still moving his mouth in an attempt to speak but his voice made no sound rendering him mute. Wide-eyed, the jinxed ginger was rampantly jumping around in front of him with a furious, indignant expression on his face. He was madly pointing at his mouth and his eyes screamed anger and annoyance but Harry knew it was mostly in jest.

Hermione covered her mouth with a hand as she laughed wholeheartedly at Ron's misfortune. Her nose crinkled and she was rocking back and forth on her seat slightly, her eyes closed from laughing as hard she was. The sound was the most melodious and soothing thing he had ever heard. He found himself liking it more than even the mermaid's song from his second task in the Triwizard tournament. Her joy filled tirade made Harry's embarrassment all worth it. He couldn't help the stupid, lopsided grin that had found its way onto his face while staring at her.

"You're getting quite good at wandless magic, Harry." She complimented smiling at him, when she had finally come down from her high.

Harry shrugged modestly, indifferent to his prowess, and grinned back at her. The little moment was cut short when Ron had slapped Harry rather harshly on the shoulder to gain his attention before pointing haphazardly at his mouth. Rolling his eyes, Harry reversed the charm.

"Bloody hell, mate." Ron spit out trying to look menacingly at his best friend for as long as possible before giving in and laughing along.

"I'm going to go get ready so we can go to breakfast," Hermione announced, jumping up from the sofa, the action doing wonderful things to her braless breasts hidden under the fabric of her T-shirt. Stop it, Harry! The green-eyed teenager had to pinch himself to not make some sort of involuntary scene. "Back in a minute."

And off she went. If Harry could say that he didn't glance at her bum or the way the muscles in her legs flexed as she made her way down to her dormitory, then it would be quite extraordinary on his part.

"So, you going to tell me what that dream was about?"

"Give it a rest, Ron."

"Oh, come off it. I bet it's Cho Chang." He said grinning confidently before adopting a look of horror. "Wait—it was about Ginny wasn't it? That's my sister you prick!"

Any attempts Harry made to refute Ron's claim fell on deaf ears since his childish-man-boy-thing of a friend had resorted to plugging his ears with his fingers and shouting "La la la" as loudly as he could. Harry sighed and ran a hand through his messy black hair. So much for a normal morning, he thought.

As quick as she said it would take, Hermione had returned to the common room now wearing a pair of gray joggers and the same white shirt. But she now had her hair up in a messy bun not bothering with the loose strands that came down to frame her face. She arched an eyebrow at the redhead menace flailing around with his fingers in his ear.

"What have you done now, Harry?" She asked him, looking amused.

Harry raised his hands in surrender and shook his head.

"Nothing! Come on let's go down!" Ron quickly interrupted, no longer comfortable teasing Harry if the dream had indeed been about his little sister.

"Actually, Hermione, I was thinking a lot about what you said," Harry said, a nervous look adorning his mug. When she tilted her head to side again in that cute fashion indicating her confusion, Harry pulled out the potions book from his pocket and held it up. "I'm going to get rid of it."

Hermione had an appraising smile on her face as she approached him.

"I'm proud of you, Harry. That couldn't have been easy." She said, her thin, delicate fingers going around and softly squeezing his forearm. And that made it all worth it. Harry now felt completely sure about his decision. Then his other best friend came up and grasped his shoulder.

"You sure, mate? Whatever's in that book could help out a lot in our fight against You-Know-Who." He said with an uncharacteristically solemn expression on his freckled face. Our fight. Although Ron was still afraid to say Voldemort's name, he was ready to fight by Harry's side. He felt blessed to have two such great friends supporting him through all this.

"Yeah, I'm sure." Harry stated, with finality. "Would you mind coming with me, Hermione, to hide it? I don't want to fall into temptation in the future."

"Of course I will. We'll meet you down in the great hall, Ron." She said, looking very pleased at Harry's show of maturity. He had really grown up in the years that she's known him, she thought. How could he not when he was burdened with a looming prophecy and the fate of the world resting solely on his shoulders?

"Yeah, all right. Good luck." With one more reassuring glance at Harry, Ron made his way out of the portrait hole.

"I think it would be best to hide it in the Room of Requirement." Hermione said. So that's where they went.

This was really happening, Harry thought. Sure he would miss the book but he had more important thoughts fogging up his mind right now. They walked side by side, their shoulders brushing at times, and there was a comfortable silence. He had never felt awkward around Hermione before so there was no reason to be now. This was still the bushy-haired girl with slightly big front teeth that he had been friends with since his first year at Hogwarts. Harry had seen how incredibly gorgeous she was becoming since their third year and knew it was only a matter of time before she became a complete knockout. When she allowed Madam Pomfrey to fix her teeth after Malfoy's curse, Harry could recall multiple instances when she attracted several looks from boys around the school whenever she smiled. Because of Hermione, Harry was able to rescue the only family member he had left. In that moment, Harry felt his emotions skyrocket because of the appreciation he had for her. Only now did he realize that those feelings were romantic and not just platonic. There was not a single doubt in his mind.

The two best friends had made it in front of the wall that they were so familiar with, having spent a majority of their fifth year inside with the DA. But now the enchanted room would hopefully respond to their need and create a room where the book could no longer be found as easily. This Half-Blood Prince bloke must've been a real hateful individual if he made more spells like Sectumsempra but Harry did not want to continue reading in fear of being tempted to use such gruesome spells later on. Harry's silent pleas were answered when the familiar intricate pattern began to gradually appear on the surface of the wall. The pattern rounded out at the top and formed the shape of a door. The pattern on the concrete was soon immersed in black ink that spread rapidly and when it was completely filled in, the door started to solidify and became tangible.

This is it, Harry thought. Noticing his hesitance, Hermione took the initiative and pushed the door open. One look inside made the two brunettes' jaw drop. The room was massive! The ceilings were as high as the Cologne Cathedral and there were very high windows that allowed the morning light to pour in. To say that there was a lot of stuff in the room would be an understatement. At first glance, there were literal mountains of furniture, countless books, the shells of dragon eggs, jewels of all sorts, ancient and new weapons, and a particularly large axe with blood stains (that looked fairly fresh but Harry wouldn't question it).

"Wow," Hermione said breathily. Harry could only nod along, still unable to process everything around him. This room only further showed how even in the magical world, Hogwarts was truly something else. There were generations upon generations worth of mementos stored and forgotten here.

Reminding themselves of the task at hand, Hermione walked a few steps ahead and turned to face Harry directly. She waited patiently as Harry took the book out of his pocket. Sighing, the wizard ran a finger down the damaged seam of the Advanced Potion-Making book. He opened it up to the front cover and read the writing once more.

This book is property of the Half-Blood Prince.

Not wanting to delay the inevitable any longer, Harry shut the book and handed it over to Hermione. She gave him a small smile and he closed his eyes. This is exactly what happened in the dream, Harry thought. Fear and anxiety ripped at his heart as he tried to think of how he would go about his confession.

"Harry," the smooth voice of Hermione momentarily interrupted his internal breakdown and caused him to open his eyes. She had let her hair down again, which pleased Harry very much. He always liked it better when it was down. "It's done. I am so proud of you. If it were mine, I don't know if I could've let it go."

Her, her books, and her wand. The holy trinity, really, he thought bemusedly. In two long strides Harry made his way over to her and wrapped his arms around her, pulling her in close and burying his face into her hair. She didn't falter and immediately returned the gesture, one hand resting on his upper back and another going up to his head and soothingly caressing his tousled black locks.

"Thank you," he murmured, releasing a breath he didn't know he was holding. When Harry inhaled, he could smell the coconut-scented shampoo that she would send an owl to her mum for at least once a year. He felt her nod against him but made no move to pull away. The feel of her hand nearly sent him over the edge at how pleasurable it felt on his scalp. He closed his eyes and relished the sensation. Perhaps it felt better than he ever would have imagined simply because Hermione was the one doing it. They stood in that same position for quite some time before Harry begrudgingly pulled back but kept her at arms length. He reached for her hands and held them in his. They were soft and smooth against his larger ones and were so warm, making him never want to let go.

"Hermione, I want to tell you something and I know you're going to think I'm crazy but please hear me out." Harry said. Many thoughts were passing through his mind right now but most prevalent: there was no going back now. Hermione tilted her head to side and gave him that goddamned adorable confused look again before nodding and squeezing his hands reassuringly, urging him to go on. Harry took a deep breath to prepare himself before finally getting out the words.

"I love you," he said truthfully and with confidence that he did not feel. Her eyes widened exponentially and her mouth opened and closed multiple times, at a loss for words. Before she could say anything though, Harry continued, afraid of losing his bravado, "I've been in love with you for a long time but I never understood my feelings until now. You were the first person in my life that truly got to know me and appreciate me. You don't know how scared I was when the basilisk petrified you. I felt so helpless the whole time and when you came running up to hug me, I was beyond ecstatic, you have no idea.

"It was during our third year when my feelings really started to develop for you. Day by day, you kept becoming more and more beautiful and it really irked me whenever others would look at you. When you and I freed Sirius that year, words could not express how totally and completely my feelings changed for you. I didn't understand them myself. It was only because of you that my godfather was allowed to live his life again after so many years. You always stood by my side no matter what. When everyone thought I cheated my way into the tournament or when I said Voldemort had returned, you were the only one that stood by me.

"I probably—no, I definitely wouldn't be here today if it weren't for you. After Sirius' death, I was so lost, Hermione. I shut down completely and felt so alone in the world. But you were there for me every step of the way. You were like my beacon, my north star, so bright and so beautiful guiding me back to reality. You really should've seen yourself during the Yule ball—absolutely breathtaking.

"And now, all these people, they all have these expectations for me. Like I'm some hero. But I'm not, Hermione. I'm just Harry. And you see that. You see that better than anyone. You are the single most important person in my life. There is no one else. It was always you, Hermione."

Harry released a long breath when he finished his rant. There it was. He had just completely laid his heart out to her. Harry didn't know when he became such a sap but quickly pushed that thought to the back of his mind. They were only mere inches away from each other, still holding hands. Harry could feel her shaking, or maybe that was him, he couldn't really tell. He was more focused on the silent witch in front of him. She was looking down at their feet, her untameable curls shadowing her beautiful face. Harry could've sworn he heard her breath hitch but over the sound of his rapidly beating heart and the roar of blood in his ears, everything seemed to be muffled. The silence was becoming unbearable as it ate away at Harry and he felt his heart slowly dropping to his stomach.

"Please say something," Harry whispered desperately, almost begging. He could feel tears lining his eyes and blinked rapidly to banish them. "Please..."

The logical portion of his brain was nowhere to be found as his subconscious was feeding him only the most horrible images of scenarios once she responded. She might flat out reject him, in a courteous manner knowing her, or cease to be his friend, or burst out laughing, or, or...

"I don't think you're crazy," She said, her voice hoarse and her eyes glassy when she finally raised her head and gazed up at him. She stared right into his shining emerald eyes and reached up to tenderly cup his face with both hands. "How could I not feel the same?"

Hermione then, in a display of boldness, stood on her toes and tentatively pressed her lips against his. Her first ever kiss. Harry stood there in shock at her words before going into a complete trance when she kissed him. His petrified state must've lasted longer than he thought because he could feel Hermione pull back. Not wanting this experience to be lackluster for her, Harry quickly took off his glasses and threw them behind him before grabbing the waist of the gorgeous witch in front of him and pulling her flush against his body. He captured her lips with his with far more vigor this time, tilting his head to the right trying to get as close to her as possible. He felt her sigh into his mouth when their inexperienced movements had finally fallen in tandem. They melted into each other's embrace, as their hands grasped at each other desperately as if they would disappear in the next moment.

The only way Harry could describe the feeling of kissing her was euphoric. She was the drug in his veins. His serotonin. The moment seemed endless. And if it was, Harry wouldn't have minded in the least. The immediate sparks were undeniable for either party when their lips had first touched. Harry took notice of everything: the feel of her hair sifting through his fingers, the way she held the back of his shirt in a vice grip with one hand while the other was running through his hair, the tenderness of her lips against his, the soft feeling of her breasts pressed against his chest, and the lightheadedness he felt when she reciprocated his feelings. Just her in her entirety.

The need for air forced the two to separate but Harry kept his arms around her waist while she kept hers resting around his neck. Their foreheads were pressed together and neither opened their eyes as they breathed heavily. Harry could smell the intoxicating scent of her spearmint toothpaste as her breath hit his lips. She managed to regain her wits before him and spoke the words he was eagerly waiting to hear.

"I love you too, Harry. I love you so much."

They stared at each other, their chests still heaving. Harry reached up to brush away the few tears that had leaked from her eyes. She was so overcome with emotion because of the wonderful boy in front of her. And the way that his thumbs were softly caressing her cheekbones did not make it any easier for her to regain her composure. She was completely infatuated with the way his verdant eyes sparkled as they looked at her. The look of one cherishing what was most precious to them. She wanted to cry again from the intensity of his gaze and how much it made her heart swell.

It was a long time before the two separated and Harry let out a laugh that started softly before turning into a boisterous one. His happiness was contagious as Hermione found herself laughing alongside him. And when Harry picked up his fallen glasses and noticed the glass of the left lens had completely shattered, their laughter peaked once more.

Giggling in a way that was completely unlike the brilliant witch, Hermione pulled out her vinewood wand from the waistband of her pants. The déjà vu was prominent between the two of them, as it was her third time performing this spell for Harry.

"Oculus Reparo," the bushy haired-witch enunciated clearly when her laughter subsided, pointing her wand at the spectacles upon the cross-eyed wizard's face. "Come on, let's go get breakfast."

She turned around and was only able to take two steps before there was a crash and she heard the sound of glass breaking. Swiveling around on one foot, she saw Harry standing there with a sheepish smile on his face and a broken pair of glasses in his hand, yet again.

"How did you manage to—oh, nevermind! Oculus—"she was cut off when Harry had pulled her in for another kiss eliciting a gasp of surprise. Regaining as much composure as she could, Hermione fell in rhythm and kissed him back. Her wand had cluttered uselessly to the floor when she moved her arms to encircle his neck and pull him in closer. She felt his strong yet gentle hands caress the skin of her waist where her shirt rode up before he fully wrapped his arms around her bringing her impossibly close. Hermione let out an involuntary moan when he pulled her bottom lip into his mouth and softly bit down, giving Harry ample opportunity to slide his tongue slowly and sensually into her mouth.

They never did make it to breakfast.

And the Room of Requirement hid more than one secret that morning.

Fin