Quick Author Note: I promise I'll make this short and sweet. I have had over 2000 hits on my story yet only 17 reviews – many of those by the same people. I know it's not compulsory to review, but I would appreciate it. I do reply to reviews – everyone who has submitted a 'signed' review has had a reply. And I am open to flames or any criticism. So please, make my day and review! Thanks.

Harry watched idly as his friends enjoyed themselves. At his birthday party. Not that he really begrudged them their fun, but it seemed as thought he was doomed to spend his birthdays being miserable. His first 17th birthdays had been spent with the Dursleys, and this, his 18th, should have been a great celebration at the Burrow with all his friends. But not all his friends were there. Hermione was not. Harry sighed. He had not seen her for seven weeks.

"Harry!" Ron screamed. Harry looked up, as if on cue, and saw the bludger approaching him. Quickly he spun round on his broom and felt the air whip around his face as the ball passed him. Phew that was close.

"Whoa mate! Pay attention! That one nearly had you there!" Ron came flying up to him.

"Sorry. I wasn't thinking."

Ron rolled his eyes in exasperation. "I know you weren't thinking! Look, put her out of your mind for once, please. It's your birthday – have fun. Catch the snitch. Thinking about her won't bring her back."

Harry smiled in spite of himself. "You talk like she's dead."

"Well, maybe she is, in a way."

"What do you mean?"

"She's dead to us. She's gone. She's put us out of her life. Maybe it's time you did the same with her." Ron called as he flew away to the other end of the pitch, leaving Harry lost in his thoughts.

It had only been seven weeks. Seven weeks, and he's willing to forget all about her, give up on her so quickly? Harry mused angrily. He thought back to last week, as they had gone round Hogsmeade painstakingly asking every person they could find about Hermione. Then term had ended, and they had traipsed through Diagon Alley, going in every shop, insisting on speaking to all staff in all shops. But nothing. It seemed as thought Hermione had disappeared from wizarding England. Harry wondered momentarily if that was possible, that she had gone back to her life with her Muggle parents. But no, that would be ridiculous. Hermione was far too skilled at magic to abandon the magical world. Anyway, her note to Ginny, a couple of days after she'd left seemed to indicate that she was not living with her parents. And the letter was sent using an owl. Hermione's owl, not one owned by a postal service. The small white owl had had no collar or crest like the Hogwarts owls, or hireable owls wore. No, she's definitely stayed in the wizarding world. I just don't know where. Oh Hermione, why did you go? Why couldn't you have sulked at me, thrown things at me, shouted at me, demanded apologies, gifts, promises? Why couldn't you have just waited to find out that you were wrong about Lav and I?

But Harry knew why. Because that was Hermione's way. Confident in knowledge and evidence. Intense in love. Hermione had never wanted me to buy her trinkets, or make a big show of our love. I did anyway, occasionally. Just to watch her blush most of the time. Harry's eyes softened as he remembered how, one morning, whilst admonishing Ron for stuffing himself with far more food than was polite, Hermione had been surprised to find a bouquet land with Hedwig, next to her plate. "Harry!" she had exclaimed. "Oh Harry!" Her cheeks flushed red and she buried her face in the white blooms. When she lifted her head, their were tears sparkling in her eyes. "You shouldn't have-" "Yes I should" he heard himself reply. "Because I love you."

He remembered another time. Lying in his bed, after their first time together, Hermione's arms still wrapped around him. He could feel her light breath on his chest. "I love you, Harry." she had said. "I love you." she repeated. And it was bliss. No expensive gifts, no fancy restaurant, no ostentatious display of wealth, love or crudity. Just a man and a woman, lying in bed, having made love. No people around to listen or cheer, no publishers or reporters with cameras, looking for something juicy to fill a gossip column. Just Hermione, lying in his bed, giving herself to him. She had given her body, and with those words, gave her heart and soul. And Harry knew that. This is Hermione, he remembered thinking. There was something particularly endearing in the heartfelt way she had said it. Speaking at her most vulnerable, a naked girl, lying in the arms of her lover, admitting that she was his. And no blushes. Just a few simple words, said so sincerely as she looked into his eyes.

Hermione was certainly whole-hearted. With her, she either did something and jumped in with both feet, determined to make it the best she could, or refrained completely. Harry thought her studies were a good example of that. Hermione had made up her mind to excel, and wouldn't stop until she had beaten everyone else. He remembered back in first year, when Harry was wondering whether they should all go after the stone, how decisive Hermione had been. "Flitwick told me in secret that I got a hundred and twelve percent on his exam. They're not throwing me out after that." Brave Hermione – risking her 112 and Hogwarts success. For him. Harry realised with a jolt just what and who she was risking her achievements for. For him. If that didn't mark at least the start of her devotion, then what did? Harry blushed as he thought of Hermione being devoted to him. But it was true. He knew she was. Had been, he added dismally.

Devoted was a good word, Harry thought, as he pondered the connotations. Hermione was truly devoted to him. She'd been on his side in everything, and once they'd acknowledged they were in love, she'd been so infatuated with him that there was nothing she wouldn't do for him. He remembered how patient she was with him explaining Snape's homework task, how selfless she'd been helping him write most of Snape's homework tasks. And in other things too. She would go faithfully to every Quidditch match he played, rain or shine. She'd cheer him on, punch Malfoy on occasion for him and hex any girl who even so much as looked at Harry the wrong way. She'd even conquered her fear of flying for him, so she could go out with him on their brooms. She'd developed her skill at wandless magic; she'd taken extra classes. All to protect him, to be with him, to support him. To love him.

So they had been inseparable, Harry remembered. From before and after the defeat of Voldemort. Before to protect him, to make sure she could love him as much as she possibly could in case… And when they came back from the final battle, Voldemort dead and gone, Harry could remember waking up again in the hospital wing. His first sight was Hermione, her hair on his duvet, as she lay, face down, asleep over his bed. Then he woke her gently, and the realisation that they had won, that they were really alive hit home. It took everything in them to not devour each other there and then. But Harry could still feel the moment she looked up, saw him awake and leapt into his arms, flinging herself onto him. "You're alive! You're alive!" She had proclaimed joyously, shattering him with kisses, her face wet with her tears. "I love you, I love you!" And Harry could hear his own, almost identical response as he hugged her tightly to him, crushing her into him.

That was why she hadn't waited to find out the truth when she saw him with Lavender. That was why she hadn't waited to curse him into next year, to inflict wrath worse than Voldemort's on him. Because it wasn't her style. Hermione, all or nothing, had given her all to him, Harry knew. And if she thought it wasn't reciprocated, then there was just no point staying around, to mope, or to plead. No point in staying to make a scene, to scream and shout. Because if he didn't love her, then she had lost him. And no amount of desperation, hysterics, loss of control would give her him back. Better to go, and keep her pride.

"Harry!" A chorus of voices sounded in annoyance.

"What?" He snapped.

"We just lost! You let Ginny get the snitch. Honestly, mate, get a grip." Ron explained, annoyed.

"Oh. Er, when?"

"What do you mean, when?" Ron bellowed. "About five seconds ago! And she chased it pretty slowly to give you a chance since it's your birthday."

"Sorry." Harry said, not for the first time that day.

"Yeah, I know mate. Try and mean it this time, will you?" He said in exasperation, then circled his way down, with Harry following. A moment later he was brought into the reality as his friends including the whole clan of Weasleys swarmed around him, ready to force Harry to enjoy his birthday.