Hermione pulled away from Harry with a gasp of shock.
"Hermione, please don't!" he pleaded.
"I have to go." she choked out, tears dampening her cheeks.
Hermione ran out of the Burrow and disapperated.
...
That night, Hermione didn't dream. The nightmares didn't come back for days. Hermione was angry, she needing the nightmares. She deserved punishment. It was her fault that Ron was dead. He had taken Umbrige's spell to save her. She mustn't let him go.
She saw Harry in the ministry almost every time she could bear to go in, talking to other aurors and sometimes even looking for her. She avoided him like poison. There was no doubt she wanted him, but she couldn't have him. The guilt weighed her down everyday. But the nightmares were gone.
...
Harry walked down Diagon Alley, staring at the shops with as much wonder as her had done as a small boy. He had one purpose. This time he would do it, he would tell Hermione how he felt. He reached the simplistic building which contained Hermione's flat. It was a nice building, replacing one that had been knocked down by the war. Some of the flats contained relics from the old house, furniture and the like. Harry had reached Hermione's flat. She opened the door as he knocked, looking dishevelled and slightly wild.
"We need to talk," Harry said, purposefully.
She stood there, contemplating him, then sat down.
"You haven't left the flat in days. You are hiding from the world and I thought it was grief, but it isn't. You can be happy, you can enjoy yourself. But you won't. You're punishing yourself for some thing you couldn't have stopped and you shouldn't"
"And you are lecturing me again," Hermione shouted, she was fed up and confused, and she let it out, "You are always trying to 'help' me, you never leave me alone! Why do you care so much anyway?"
"I love you Hermione."
His voice was quiet, and confident. He was paper white, but his speech was strong. It cut through the room, wreaking havoc as it went.
Hermione was crying again. She didn't know what to do. She wanted to run, to hide. She wanted to kick Harry. She wanted to kiss him.
She buried her face in his chest, as she had done on that terrible day in the battle of Hogwarts. He put his arms around her. It made her feel safe. It was just an embrace, but it had more meaning than a thousand kisses. After what felt like hours, they pulled apart.
"So you'll give us a go?" Harry smirked, triumphant.
"Maybe. I need to clear my head first. I'll see you at the Leaky Cauldron after work."
Harry left then, leaving Hermione to her thoughts.