A smile played on the corners of his lips. He gazed about him, taking in his surroundings. People swept past him, not noticing him. They ran, or they danced, it didn't matter. He was the eye of the storm. While others were caught up in the spirit, laughing and drinking the sheer pleasure of the ball, he stood alone. He needn't look to know that he was invisible. The cloak, this time, did not hide him, his serenity in the midst of this giddiness, however, did. There was, as well, a smile in his eyes. They sparkled, and seemed to glide and move effortlessly about the Grand Hall, not unlike his classmates. One lock of untidy black hair fell in front of his face, obstructing his vision slightly. He neither brushed it away or seemed irritated by it, he let it lay there. Startlingly dark against his olive skin, and emerald pupils.

A sudden tap on his right shoulder startled him, ripped him out of his reverie. He turned slowly and recognized the girl at once. Hermione, in all her grace, stood hopefully in front of him. Sleek pieces of cinnamon hair fell about her shoulders and down her back. Eyes with a ruby red fire of delight bore into him.

"Dance." One word. So many feelings that burst forth from it. Harry felt pleasure, and passion warming his body, electrocuting his senses. He didn't nod, didn't show any signs of agreement. He placed his arms around Hermione softly and sucked in her sweet scent. Like lilies, he thought. Like-like my mother. It was true, from the farthest reaches of his memory he could pull out that smell, his mother, holding him, in the night, waiting…watching. One last time, clutching on to Harry in fear, running for her life, leaving behind her beloved, James. He forced the thought of his mind; he was here with Hermione, not to have a brutal flash from the past.

The song was slow, and they held each other. Harry felt the beating of her heart and heard her breathing; she lay her head on his shoulder. He kept inhaling her fragrance because, for whatever reason, he felt that his mother was near him. Making sure he was all right. He smiled, keeping Hermione close. His jewel, his flower, though she was as much his as he was hers. They were equal in their own rights, yet one, together.

The songs blurred, the time passed. The ball had become a sweet, sticky, haze. Hermione and Harry were the only real things in it, the only pieces of the dream that stood out in reality. Hermione. He thought. You are so beautiful…so beautiful. He never wanted to let go of Hermione, for fear she would dissolve into air, too good to be true. Hermione lifted up her head and Harry's eyes widened in fright. She couldn't walk away, not now! But walking away was farthest from Hermione's mind as she pulled Harry in close for a kiss.

"Hermione…" Harry whispered in her ear.

"Harry…" She murmured back.

"I love you, Hermione." Harry told her, with as much sincerity as he felt, his heart bursting with this love.

"And I you, Harry." Hermione answered in perfect harmony.

They kissed again, a kiss with true love in it. For they were, the two of them, deeply in love. They were meant to be together, forever.