Day Seventeen

Life had taught Harry a lot of lessons in just twenty four years. He had never been under the impression that it was fair, and living with the Dursleys had been difficult, but he hadn't known anything different. It was only after he'd gone to Hogwarts that he began to understand how hard life could truly be. Happiness existed, but it was a fleeting thing that could be used to hurt and manipulate. Love was good, it could hurt too, but it was worth it, even when it did.

When he'd walked into the Forbidden Forest during the Battle of Hogwarts prepared to give up his own life, he had been tired and afraid, but not for one moment had he been done. He had not been giving up, he had just been living and loving as hard as he could until what he had believed was his last breath. He was doing, as he always had, even during those years with the Dursleys, the best he could with what he'd been given.

After doing the impossible, surviving the war, living into actual adulthood; he settled into a life of his own choosing. He fell in love, then he fell out of love, and he survived that too. He had a good life that was beyond anything he could have dreamed of as a little boy, with more money than he needed, a surrogate family, friends, an interesting enough job, and even hobbies.

But part of him managed his expectations; 'too good to be true' a little voice would whisper. Or, 'not for you, freak,' a slightly louder one, which sounded a lot like his aunt, would sometimes barge into his unconscious mind.

Which is why he never looked at the brilliant woman who was always at his side for anything more. It was ironic that the person who had taught him the most important lessons about love and loyalty practically had 'not for Harry' stamped on her forehead for the entirety of their friendship.

Because it was not that he was unaware that she was beautiful, or that he had been attracted to her practically from the moment he'd started noticing girls. In fact, she might have been the reason he started to notice them in the first place. It was impossible not to notice Hermione.

When he'd told Ron that she was like his sister, he'd said that because he didn't have any other way to explain to his friend that she was vitally important to him. He would never give her up, but he would also never cross that line with her. She and Ron had wanted each other, he would never have interfered with that.

Until, one day, they didn't anymore.

But still, she was too good for him. He was so lucky to have her, just the way she was. Her friendship was irreplaceable.

Only a sudden, insatiable need to show her how lucky he felt to have her in his life, after she was, once again, willing to help him through a difficult situation- this time it was facing his relatives at Dudley's wedding- led to a series of events that had him asking if, incredibly, she wanted him.

And when the answer to that question turned out to be 'yes,' he then allowed himself to stumble into a relationship with her, because who was he to deny her what she wanted? He wasn't that strong.

But it did have him questioning his good fortune. He wondered if he should get on his knees and praise all the gods he'd ever heard of, or find a way to lock her up and keep her safe. Because surely what was coming next was that somebody would try to hurt her to hurt him. Take the best thing that had ever happened to him away from him.

Which is what made him a nervous wreck as the Ministry Yule Gala approached. He tried to calm down. He was sure that Hermione would easily suss out his unease if he didn't. But he wasn't particularly good at hiding his emotions, at least not from the woman in question. It was really inconvenient to be in love with the person who knew you better than anybody else.

His only hope was that he would be able to play off his behavior as nerves over the Gala itself, and their first public appearance as a couple. He didn't want to burden her with his fear for her.

With this, not-so-solid plan in place, he flooed to her flat Friday evening and she immediately called out from her bedroom, saying that she was almost ready. Just moments later he heard the clicking of her heels on the floor and when she appeared his heart stopped.

She was wearing another black dress, like she had two weeks ago, but this one was long, with thin straps that hugged her curves to her hips, where it flared out and fell to the floor. It managed to be both elegant and sexy, demonstrating how delicate and feminine she was, how small.

He knew that at the core of her, she wasn't delicate at all. But physically she could easily be overpowered. Not just men, most adults were bigger than she was, and she didn't have any non-magical combat training. She had her brain and her wand, and logically he knew that underestimating her could be the last mistake an enemy might make. She would be ruthless in defense of herself and others if it was called for, but it was suddenly not enough.

He was having trouble taking breaths. Her expression was firm as she approached him but her eyes were soft. She stopped in front of him and put her hands on his chest.

"Okay," she began, all business, "this is how this is going to work."

He reared back in surprise, but she didn't hesitate. She just took his hand and guided it down her side to her hip where he felt an opening in her dress, she pressed their joined hands firmly against her leg and he could feel her wand concealed in what he now understood was a pocket.

"More dresses should come with pockets," she grinned at him, he was certain she'd seen realization dawn on his face.

She held up her other hand, there was a small bag dangling from her wrist. A familiar, yet different, bag. Her smile turned mischievous, "I had it refurbished," she explained, "but it's the same bag, I couldn't bear to get rid of it, so I might as well use it. It's full of essentials and a few things I thought might be helpful in a tight spot." He almost laughed. "I know you have your cloak." He nodded. "Personally, I would prefer if you kept it, it's always served you best, but if it'll make you feel better, I'll carry it."

This time he did laugh, but it came out as a sob. She hadn't just noticed his distress, she'd bloody well anticipated and prepared for it. "You knew this would happen."

"Yes. As soon as Dudley and Amelia left last night. I'd just been waiting for it anyway."

"I didn't even know-"

"Sometimes it's difficult for us to recognize our own behavior, but the ones who love us do," she raised their joined hands to his face. "You've grown up Harry, you're a lot more mature now, but deep down you're still the boy who broke up with Ginny in a misguided attempt to keep her safe."

He shook his head but she just continued.

"I've grown up too, but I'm still the girl who refused to be left behind. I'm not going to pitch a fit and tell you that you're being high handed and that I can take care of myself, because your worries aren't completely unwarranted. So, we're going to do this in a way that's acceptable to both of us, okay?"

He nodded. "God, Hermione," he murmured, in awe of her.

She took a deep breath. "I"m a target, that's just an unfortunate fact of my life. We can't erase my past or my heritage, and given my goals at the Ministry, I'm probably going to become an even bigger target in the future, with or without you. But I'm safer with you, Harry, I truly believe that, and I'm definitely happier. You understood my worries about you going off on what was just a routine surveillance assignment, you didn't make me feel foolish for that. I won't do you that disservice either. Let's find a way to do this, all of this," she gestured between them, "in a way that makes us both comfortable."

"Merlin, yes, okay," his forehead fell to hers.

"Does this make you feel any better?" She stroked his cheek.

"Why do I try to keep anything from you?" He asked, because while he was relieved, he couldn't honestly say if he felt better about the situation, or if it was just easier not to have to try and hide it from her. Either way, she had made it better by being so upfront with him.

"You really shouldn't," she chuckled, "I'm serious, love, we're better together."

He took her face in his hands and pulled away so that he could look at her. "You're perfect for me. I can't even-" he cursed under his breath.

How does one properly express adoration for a woman who had looked in the face of his paranoia and manic need to keep the people he cared about safe for years, and instead of trying to break him of it, accepted all of him? She'd armed herself to the teeth in order to attend a party with him. He didn't know the contents of that little bag, but he'd bet it would put the auror armory to shame, and with a lot more creative weapons to boot.

She just leaned in for a long slow kiss, rubbing her hands up and down his chest. "You look very handsome," she said when she pulled away, though she didn't go far, her words were a low hum against his lips.

"You look fucking gorgeous," he blurted, still trying to bring his emotions back into the realm of his control.

"Thanks," she laughed, but it sounded sincere. "I was hoping…"

"Yes?"

"I was hoping that you would come home with me tonight, or I could go home with you, I don't care which."

He reluctantly pulled away so that he could see her face. "Is this a trick question?"

"No, I just didn't want to presume. I know these things wear you out, it would be understandable if you needed some space, that's something I don't know about you yet."

"No, no space," he answered quickly, with a little laugh.

"Okay then," she pursed her lips. "I don't have any grand plans, I don't want to put any pressure on us, I just don't want to leave you tonight. I do realize what we're doing in general, and tonight going public, well it's a big deal."

"Mmm," he hummed in agreement. "Should we go?"

"One more thing."

"What's that?"

She held up the wrist with the bag again. She readjusted it so that he could see the charm bracelet that had been hidden by it before. The bracelet he had given her now bore three charms. She pinched the newest addition between two fingers of her other hand so that she could show it to him. He knew what it was already, of course, and that she'd found in her Advent calendar earlier today.

"Are you trying to mark me or something, Harry Potter?" Her words were accusatory, but her tone was amused.

"What?" He laughed, completely caught off guard.

"Prongs!" She exclaimed, pointing at the charm for emphasis.

"It's a reindeer!" He defended, "it fits the theme."

"Try that with somebody who hasn't met Prongs," she scoffed.

"I promise you, it's a reindeer! I'll take you to the shop where I got it and they'll tell you!"

"Uh-huh, and of all the festively themed charms in the world you chose one that looks suspiciously like your patronus?"

"You like reindeer?" It came out as a question as he eyed the charm, because he had to admit, she had a point.

"Yes, I have a real emotional attachment to reindeer," she deadpanned.

"Well there you go," he responded in turn.

She huffed.

"You already put it on your bracelet, Hermione, you're obviously not that opposed."

"I'm not telling people I'm wearing a representation of your bloody magical essence as a piece of jewelry."

"You tell people whatever you want to tell people, love," he said, now feeling very smug, because he knew her game; she'd planned to irritate him into conceding her point, and then she would graciously let him have his way; this was a lot more fun.

Predictably, she huffed again.

He drew her closer, spreading his legs so that she was standing between them, "it can mean whatever you want it to mean, just between us," he whispered roughly into her ear. She shivered in his arms and his eyes fell closed; playful to provocative in the blink of an eye.

She lifted her head and ran her lips along the edge of his jaw. "You're playing with fire, Harry."

"Oh?" He squeezed her hips and pulled her even closer, until she was flush against him and was sure to feel his growing arousal. "I'm not afraid."

She arched her back, ever so slightly, pressing her breasts against his chest. She cupped his jaw with one hand, tracing his lips with her thumb while her other hand drifted down, sneaking into his robes and hooked her fingers into the waistband of his trousers. "Brave words."

She wrenched herself away from him and marched towards the floo.

"We're going to be late," she called over her shoulder.

Author's Note: Yes, I know, I'm awful. I'm not just fading to black, skipping their night, it will resume after midnight. So, you know, tomorrow… ;)