Disclaimer: I do not own Harry Potter. That honor goes to J. K. Rowling.

A/N: This is my first fanfiction I've posted, and it's also the first fic I've fully finished and think is somewhat decent. I have a problem where I get several plot bunnies of ideas and then can't get them all out. I'll start one, then have another idea, and have to write that one too. It's a bit irritating. Anyways, I hope you enjoy it.


Harry Potter was certain he would go mad. Ever since Sirius was killed, and the prophecy revealed to him, Harry had sunken into a near-catatonic depression and rarely found anything enjoyable. He persevered in his schoolwork, only because he knew it was important to learn if he were to ever have hope of defeating Voldemort, but found little pleasure in anything else. The only thing that brought Harry any comfort and happiness was Hermione. She had become dangerously important to him, he knew, but he found that he didn't care very much. She was his solace, his comfort, and the time he spent just talking with her about meaningless stuff while working on their assignments made getting up out of bed bearable. He was moody and irritable and sad whenever he wasn't around her, and lightened up considerably when she graced him with her presence. He knew that she knew how important she'd become to him, and he was, quite frankly, surprised that she hadn't run for the hills. Nobody should have to bear the burden of Harry Potter needing them so desperately. But Harry did need her. And she remained by his side, continuing to be the same, supportive best friend she'd always been.

Part of Harry was amazed at just how integral Hermione had become to him. He felt like he should be more afraid of the fact that something as simple as Hermione's presence could affect him so. He knew that if she ever decided that he wasn't worth her time and decided to leave him to his demons, he'd probably fall to pieces permanently. At first, Harry had been afraid of these feelings. He had been confused as well. What made her so important, so amazing? The answer had come to him instantly, and Harry was surprised it took him so long to figure it out. He was in love with Hermione, plain and simple. It hadn't shocked him as much as he'd thought. In fact, he found it rather made a lot of sense. After all, who had done more for Harry other than Hermione? She was driven, compassionate, always willing to do the right thing no matter what, brilliantly intelligent, and most importantly, his best friend. The fact that she'd also grown into a very attractive young woman was simply a bonus.

Harry could remember the moment clearly. He and Hermione were just sitting together in two armchairs in the common room, doing their homework as always. Harry had been contemplating her importance to him all day, and wondering about it, when Hermione suddenly stretched. The motion was very catlike, and Harry found himself drawn to the curves of her body that were accentuated in this action. Harry had, somewhere deep down, always considered Hermione to be pretty, but something about that stretch awoke a different thought in his mind altogether. She was utterly gorgeous. After her stretch, she got up and packed her books away in her knapsack. She turned to Harry and flashed him a beautiful smile that sent his pulse racing.

"Well, it's getting quite late, Harry. We'd better get to bed." She noted the hesitation that Harry's features wore. He had not been sleeping well, and she knew it.

"I wish I knew how to make your nightmares go away," she said, grabbing his hands in each of hers. She pulled him to his feet, and Harry caught his breath at how close they were. Hermione tilted her head to the side, and sighed.

"Just know that I care about you. I hate seeing you so sad all the time." She leaned in then, and placed a soft, sweet kiss on his cheek. "Goodnight, Harry."

It took Harry almost a full minute before he realized that Hermione had gone up the stairs to the girls' dormitories, and another full minute for him to process that Hermione had kissed him. Kissed him! Yes, it was only on the cheek, and she had done that before, on King's Cross at the end of fourth year, but this one felt so much different. It was far more intimate, and it provoked a much different reaction in Harry. He shivered with pleasure at the recollection of the feelings of Hermione's lips against his skin. He would have absolutely no trouble sleeping tonight.

Of course, the realization that he was in love with his best friend immediately complicated things. On the one hand, Harry needed to be around Hermione to quell the demons that threatened to tear him apart. On the other hand, whenever he was around Hermione, and especially if it was just the two of them, he found that he was now utterly nervous. Whenever she so much as smiled at him, it ignited a swarm of butterflies in his stomach and made his cheeks flame up. And if she ever touched him, his entire face would become a burning, bright red and his heart would feel like it would burst. He would become nearly incapable of speech, stammering every other word. Yes, Harry Potter had turned into a shy, lovesick puppy around his best friend, and he was certain that she'd noticed it. How could she not? Even Ron had noticed it, and he teased Harry relentlessly about it whenever the two of them were apart from Hermione. That was one good thing that Harry's feelings had done for him. If he focused on how much he loved Hermione, and all the amazing things about her, he was able to remain somewhat less sad than usual.

Ron had, however, honored Harry's desperate request that he not tell Hermione. Though the only reason why, he said, was "she's Hermione, and she knows you better than you know yourself. I don't need to tell her something she already knows. She's probably just waiting for you to man up and ask her out already."

Harry strongly disagreed with Ron's sentiment: he had absolutely no confidence that Hermione could ever love him back. However, he didn't want to tell Ron this, not wanting to sound even more pathetic than he already felt. So Harry contented himself with the time he got to spend with Hermione as just her best friend. Even if that was all she saw him as, it was still enough for now.

But "for now" could only last for so long, and eventually Harry's need to be around Hermione had merged completely with his desperate longing for her. Being around her was both lifesaving and painful, as she had still not given any hint that she reciprocated his feelings. Ron had long since given up on helping him, believing him at this point to be a lost cause, and Harry had to agree with him.

One day, during another one of Harry and Hermione's library study sessions, the latter finally reached the breaking point of her frustration. She had known ever since the same night Harry had his epiphany about her that he had developed feelings for her, and she was quite fed up with his shy behavior. At first it had been endearing and adorable, to know that Harry clearly thought she was so amazing that he was nervous to be around her, but eventually it was just plain annoying. She knew that Harry could be a tad self-deprecating, but this was getting ridiculous. The way things were going, Harry would continue to dance around her for the next twenty years, and that was most certainly not an option. She was just going to have to take the initiative and show him herself just how much she loved him.

It was a great day for such revelations, anyway, since Harry seemed particularly distraught today, though Hermione wasn't sure what had changed. Perhaps he was losing hope that she reciprocated his feelings? Well, she was about to change his mind.

"Harry?" She asked, looking squarely at him, and brushing her hair out of her face, knowing that such an action would get his attention. "Is there anything you'd like to tell me? Anything on your mind that's bothering you? I've noticed you've seemed a bit out of sorts the last few days."

Harry flushed deeply and Hermione crowed to herself with victory. The fact that she, Hermione Granger, had such power over Harry was quite incredible.

"N-nothing's wrong Hermione. Just the usual. S-Sirius, and stuff." Harry stammered out, quickly averting his eyes from Hermione's. Hermione noticed that his eyes lingered on a certain other part of her anatomy though, before he looked away completely. She smirked, immensely happy that Harry clearly found her body to be quite attractive.

"Are you sure? You know you can talk to me about anything, right Harry?" Hermione had now stood up from her chair across from Harry, and moved to stand directly in front of him. "I know something's been troubling you, and it's not related to Voldemort, Sirius, or the prophecy. I would know, because those things never bother you whenever you're with me." Hermione now took both of Harry's hands in hers, in some ways echoing their positions two months before.

Harry was resolutely refusing to look up. He knew he'd get distracted by either Hermione's chest, or get lost in her eyes if he did. He could feel his pulse quickening, and the heat from his cheeks meant he was probably as red as a tomato. There was no way Hermione couldn't know what she was doing to him. "I-I told you, Hermione. I-It's fine. Just, guy stuff."

Hermione smirked at this. Harry had given her the perfect opening.

"So, it's a girl, is it?" She asked, allowing a flirty tone to creep into her voice.

Harry kept his mouth shut. He feared that if he spoke any more, he'd end up pouring

his hidden feelings to her, which would disgust her and cause her to leave.

"Ah, so it is a girl," Hermione said again. Of course, she knew it was a girl, herself. But

she was quite enjoying being able to make Harry so flustered.

"Anybody in particular?" Hermione asked, beginning to rub her fingers gently over his

palms. The motion was obviously enjoyable to Harry, if the expression on his face was any indication. His heart seemed to betray him, however, as he suddenly blurted out, "Y-you might know her pretty well."

Hermione found herself leaning in a bit closer, and her shins were now pressing against the front of the couch, on either side of Harry's. "Yes, I think I do. She's about my height, correct? Very intelligent, but a bit bossy, and quite stubborn to boot. She's a great friend of yours, and has never left your side."

Harry's eyes widened at how easily Hermione had figured it out. Granted, he had already assumed she had figured him out much earlier; he wasn't exactly the best at hiding his feelings. He decided that it was now or never, if Hermione already had some idea of what he felt for her, then he might as well tell her everything he felt for her.

"Yes, Hermione. That girl is you. I don't know how it happened, but I was thinking about how important you've become to me, how I've grown to depend on you so completely, and it just clicked. I love you. I love everything about you. I love your dedication to and passion for learning. I love how kind and compassionate you are, especially for those who can't help themselves. I love your smile and how just seeing it brightens my day and fills me with happiness. I love your body, too. You sometimes call yourself ugly." Harry frowned now. "That's complete and utter nonsense. You're- you're beautiful, no, you're absolutely gorgeous to me. I could get lost in your eyes for hours, did you know that they've actually got little flecks of gold in them? But most importantly, Hermione, I love you for being my best friend. The one person I can count on, above all others, to never leave me." Harry hung his head, both out of embarrassment for revealing so much, and so he wouldn't have to look at Hermione as she rejected him.

"Harry, look at me," Hermione said. She was completely floored at the depth of Harry's feelings for her. She of course, was deeply in love with him, but she had never assumed Harry's feelings went as far as hers did. She climbed up onto the couch to straddle Harry's lap, placed her hands on his cheeks, and tilted his face up to look her in the eyes.

"I've been waiting a bloody long time for you to finally say that." she said, allowing the flirty tone to return.

To say Harry was shocked would be an understatement. He looked as if he'd just been told that Voldemort had dropped dead.

"Y-you have? But, I thought you liked-"

"Who, Ron? Don't be ridiculous, Harry. That's a match made in, well, hell, I suppose. No, I can honestly say that I am completely and utterly in love with you, Harry James Potter."

Harry traced her face for any sign of deceit, and saw none. She was absolutely serious about this. She loved him! Hermione Granger loved him! Harry pinched himself, and winced.

"What was that for?" Hermione asked.

"Just wanted to make sure I'm not dreaming," Harry replied quietly.

Hermione giggled at that. Then she raised her eyebrows at him. "Well? I love you, and you love me. Aren't you supposed to kiss me now, Mr. Potter?"

Harry found that his throat was now very dry. "Um, well, I suppose, if you want to, but I mean, I understand if you're unsure, and I-"

"Oh honestly, Harry! Do I really have to do everything myself?" Hermione grabbed him by the back of his neck and pulled him in to kiss him. Harry immediately found himself lost in the moment. Hermione Granger was kissing him! He kissed her back with equal passion, moving his lips against hers fervently. His hand wrapped around her waist, pulling her closer to him. Hermione opened her mouth to deepen the kiss, and Harry's tongue obliged. He could feel his heart swelling with giddiness, and the descriptions people gave of kissing suddenly made sense. It really was magical. There were fireworks and sparks and Hermione, and the feel of her lips on his and her body pressed tightly against him.

Harry figured that Voldemort himself could've burst into the common room at that moment and he wouldn't have noticed. Maybe the sight of such a loving display would even cause the dark bastard to explode. But with that ridiculous thought, Harry suddenly came to an epiphany. Dumbledore had said that the "power the Dark Lord knows not" was love. The love that he could feel flowing between himself and Hermione via their mouths was undeniably powerful, and Harry knew that as long as he had her and her love, Voldemort didn't stand a chance.

Someone did actually burst into the common room, though thankfully it wasn't Voldemort. Ron Weasley had been looking for Harry, since he had promised Ron a game of wizards' chess earlier that day. When he saw his two best friends locked in a passionate embrace, kissing each other as if their lives depended on it, he nearly cried out in shock. Instead, he gave a quiet chuckle, and grinned broadly.

"I'm not surprised she managed to break you, Harry." he said quietly, though Harry and Hermione were too engrossed in each other to hear him anyway. "You've neve been able to hold your own against a worried, determined Hermione before."

The redhead was absolutely going to tease Harry forever about this. Not Hermione, though. Ron shuddered as he imagined how pissed Hermione would be if he tried to have a go at her. He called out to Dean and Seamus, who had just entered the common room.

"Fancy a game of chess, Dean?" Ron asked. "I was going to play with Harry… but, well… he's a bit preoccupied at the moment." Ron indicated the couple on the couch who, aside from taking a few short breaks to breathe, were still kissing.

Dean and Seamus shared a grin, before the Irish wizard laughed. "Looks like you owe me, Dean."

Dean frowned. "I only thought that Harry would be too stupid to realize he liked Hermione, I knew they both had feelings for each other!"

"That wasn't the bet!" Seamus crowed. "Hand it over, mate."

Dean sighed, and passed Seamus a galleon.

Ron's eyes widened comically. "You two had a bet on if Harry and Hermione would get together?"

Dean and Seamus looked at Ron as though he were stupid. "Are you kidding? There's been several betting pools on those two since their second year."

Ron was flabbergasted. "How come I never knew about this?"

"Because none of us wanted Harry or Hermione to know, and if you knew, they were sure to find out." Seamus replied. "But now that they're, as you put it, preoccupied, we can admit it wholeheartedly. There's actually a much larger betting pool that most of Hogwarts is part of, on when those two would admit their feelings to each other. Even the professors are in on it."

Ron was dumbfounded at this bit of information, but decided not to pursue any line of thought with it.

"Well, alright then. Best give the 'Golden Couple' some privacy then, eh?" Ron hurried to leave the common room, though he was more afraid of what Hermione would do to him if he interrupted her kiss with Harry than he was concerned about giving them "privacy."

Dean and Seamus, fortunately, had the same epiphany, and followed soon after. The three sixth-year Gryffindors were now safe from Hermione Granger's ire, and Ron proceeded to regale the other two with his own stories of the times he'd caught Harry and Hermione in compromising situations.

Meanwhile, another pair of Gryffindors finally broke apart for more than a few seconds, and gazed lovingly at each other.

"Merlin, Hermione. That was… wow. I don't have any words. I wish I did, so I could explain just how wonderful kissing you is, but I don't."

Hermione couldn't help but blush. "Well, now I know that I was right, too. Your kissing is more than satisfactory."

Now it was Harry's turn to blush. Really, between the two of them, he'd blushed so many times that the heat from his face could warm him in the dead of winter. He contented himself with just drinking in the sight of Hermione straddling him, admiring her perfect face. He could see the little flecks of gold in her eyes, and almost count the light freckles that were spread across her cheeks. "You really are so beautiful, Hermione, and that's not just me saying it."

Hermione smiled. "I know I shouldn't be so critical of myself, but I do like hearing you say it."

"You're beautiful. Gorgeous, even." Harry replied, pleased that he was able to make her blush as red as he had been. He pulled her down and kissed her briefly again. "I don't think I'll ever get used to being able to do that."

At that, Hermione let out a rather girlish giggle. "I guess I'll have to keep doing it then."

For a few moments, the two lovebirds just continued to cuddle with each other, both reveling in this newfound love between them.

"So, so I know we've kissed and all," Harry started, the nerves creeping back into his voice. "But I think I still have to ask, just so I can hear it. Hermione Granger, would you like to go to Hogsmeade with me next weekend?"

Hermione giggled at Harry's adorably nervous antics. "Of course, boyfriend." She purred the word out, wrapping herself even tighter against Harry.

Once again, comfortable silence descended over the pair, until Harry interrupted it again with something not so comfortable.

"You know this makes you even more of a target than before, Hermione?" Harry asked her rhetorically. "You were already in enough danger when you were just my best friend, but now…" He swallowed anxiously. "If Voldemort ever found out how much you mean to me, he wouldn't hesitate to kill you."

Hermione knew that Harry would bring this up eventually, but she was still a little cross with him for doing so. "Harry James Potter," she started, raising her head from its position on Harry's shoulder. She grabbed his face with both of her hands, forcing him to look at her. "I don't care one bit about what Voldemort could do to me. I was a huge target before, and I am still one now. I couldn't care less, because I'm not going anywhere but with you. Never, ever, forget that." To prove her point, and stop Harry from arguing with her, Hermione kissed him again. It wasn't quite as passionate as before, but still enough to shut Harry up.

After Hermione broke away, Harry smiled. "Well, when you put it that way, I suppose there's not much I can do, is there?"

"Absolutely Not!" Hermione said brightly. "You're stuck with me, Potter. Whether you like it or not."

"Well then, It's a good thing I really, really love being stuck with you, Granger. And if everything works out, I wouldn't mind being stuck with you for quite a long time."

This statement earned Harry yet another kiss, but he finally said, "As much as I enjoy kissing you, we do both have homework to get back to." He laughed a bit at the pouty expression on Hermione's face.

"Who knew that prim and proper Miss Granger would rather make out with her boyfriend than study!" he chuckled, before finding his face full of a pillow.

"Prat," Hermione said lovingly, before very reluctantly extricating herself from Harry's lap and returning to her Transfiguration essay. Harry knew he had to get back to his work as well, but there was something so stunning about watching Hermione in her natural element. The way she absently twirled a lock of her hair around her finger when she was thinking and bit her lower lip when she was unsure of something made Harry want to kiss her again. He was able to restrain himself, barely, and opted to finish his own essay. As he reflected on the absolutely wondrous turn of events that had led to this moment, he smiled. Yes, Voldemort was still out there, and according to the prophecy Harry still would have to kill him one day or be killed, but he knew that with Hermione Granger by his side, he could accomplish anything. Power he knows not indeed, Harry thought to himself with a smile.

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