A/N: I know, I know, this took forever. I suck and I'm sorry. Holidays plus everything else made it difficult to write.

Remus caught up to Dumbledore just as he made it to the safe zone that the Aurors had established around the still trembling building. Uncaring about the elder wizard's age or how much deference he should show, he grabbed Dumbledore's elbow and fiercely spun him so that they were face to face. "What they hell was that in there, Albus?" Remus growled, his nature showing itself in his tone. Normally he fought letting the more animalistic side of his disease affect him, but at present he welcomed it as it allowed him to be as angry as he was while still remaining focused; the wolf was very good at that. He wanted answers to what was happening to Harry, his last link to the best friends he'd ever had. And he was going to get them, one way or the other.

Dumbledore, for his part, looked for all the world like a defeated man; his shoulders hunched, his face pale and the tears evident in his eyes. Where normally stood a wizard still powerful in the twilight of his life, now he felt only like an old fool too stuck in his ways to change. And, he believed, it was exceedingly likely that it was going to cost them everything. "I'm afraid I've made yet another terrible mistake," he said, unable to meet the werewolf's gaze.

"No fucking shit, Albus," Remus ground out through gritted teeth. "What was all that you talked about in there? What is happening to Harry?"

Albus merely shook his head. "Not here, Remus, please. Too many ears nearby."

Lupin stared hard at the Headmaster, and only Tonks approaching the two of them kept him from taking the conversation any further. "I made a promise a long time ago to James and Lily that I would protect that young man in there. I failed him when he was younger, too caught up in my own grief and pain to be any good to anyone. I will not fail him again." Remus released Dumbledore's elbow and stormed off, Tonks following behind him to try and figure out what had the man she had fallen in love with so angry. She watched him walk behind a nearby mausoleum, and when she turned the corner she stopped dead as she saw him ram his fist into the marble building while crying out in what could only be described as utter frustration. She rushed over to him as he collapsed onto his knees, cradling his almost certainly broken hand as tears ran down his face. She wrapped her arms around him from behind as he cried, not knowing what else to do other than hold him.

After a few minutes Remus was able to get himself back under control. He rested his good hand on Tonks's, which were latched onto each other around his neck, and nuzzled himself into the elbow of her left arm as he took in her scent. The woman smiled; it was the most affection he had ever shown her, and it did something wonderful to her insides to have him take comfort in her embrace. Hating to do it, she pulled her hands back before drawing her wand and incanting several healing spells over Remus's broken hand. "That should help. I'm no Poppy Pomfrey, but hopefully that'll square you away until you can see a proper Healer."

He turned and smiled at her, his newly healed hand coming up and resting on her cheek. "Thank you, Dora," he whispered. He knew Tonks was harboring strong feelings for him; she had made her pursuit of him very clear. For his part, Remus had tried for a few months now to fight the feelings he reciprocally had for the beautiful young Auror, coming up with excuse after excuse why she shouldn't pursue him; their age difference, his inability to hold a job in the wizarding world because his condition was known, and his condition in general being the top three he had used. However, at that moment, with his emotions in shambles and his faith in Dumbledore and their mission hanging by a thread, he didn't have the strength to fight it anymore. Ignoring the setting, and before he could stop himself, he leaned in while at the same time drawing Tonks forward with the hand on her cheek. As their lips met, there was a moment of shock for the Metamorphmagus before she growled in appreciation while wrapping her arms around his neck and returning his kiss with fervor.

They were so caught up in each other that it was only by sheer chance that they simultaneously realized that the ground had stopped shaking. Both knew that could be a good thing or a very, very bad thing, and as one rose and ran back toward the hall where they had left Harry and Hermione. As they approached, both let out a breath of relief seeing that the building was still standing, though the two teens were yet to be seen. "Do you think they're okay?" Tonks asked no one in particular.

"We'll know soon enough," Dumbledore responded, fingering the Elder Wand and hoping that it would not be needed. He had no idea if Harry had been able to fight off the Horcrux, and that left the question of exactly who would be walking out of the building. He wanted to believe, in the deepest places of his heart, that Harry had been able to triumph, but he could not afford hope at the moment if there was even the slightest chance it proved false. There was no way that Britain could survive Voldemort and a Horcrux-possessed Harry Potter both trying to lay siege to the country. As the doors opened, the elder wizard tensed, silently wishing beyond all things that this day did not become any more horrible than it already had been.

"Harry!" Remus yelled, seeing the blood that was running down his face and that had soaked into his clothes from his still weeping scar. He was being supported by Hermione, his hand around her shoulders while both of hers were wrapped around his waist as the two of them walked unsteadily out of the doors. Both he and Tonks rushed forward, Remus coming up on Harry's other side to help while Tonks supported a very nearly drained Hermione. Together the four of them limped their way back into the safe zone as the remaining Order members and Aurors could only look on in amazement. Robards had briefed the Minister and his Aurors on what had happened after Scrimgeour had evacuated with a severely wounded Diggory, and with the death of Bellatrix Lestrange and a sound defeat of Lord Voldemort the legend of Harry Potter, probably much to the young man's later chagrin, had once again grown.

As the foursome approached, Dumbledore walked over, taking stock of the young man before him to see if he had been corrupted or if his silent and sincere prayers had indeed been answered. Harry looked up and saw Albus, and the older man smiled a very genuine smile in seeing that this was indeed still the young man he had come to care for. The young man that was their best hope at bringing an end to this conflict.

The young man whose right hand had just connected solidly with Dumbledore's jaw, sending the headmaster to the ground in a heap. Despite his exhaustion, Harry stood over the felled man, fists clenched in anger as he stared daggers at the man he had just caught with a wild haymaker. Everyone again felt Harry's unfocused magic surge around them, and wands were gripped in caution, not really knowing what was going to happen next.

Hermione's soothing hand on his arm caused the impending maelstrom to quiet, and Harry closed his eyes as he took several deep breaths, mindless that his scar continued to bleed down the side of his face. When his eyes once again opened, he bore his gaze down at Dumbledore and spoke. "I thought after last June that we had gone past this, Albus. I thought, after you revealed what should have been told to me years ago, after telling me things that might have prevented Sirius's death during that debacle at the Department of Mysteries, that there was an unspoken understanding between us. That you would stop keeping secrets about my life from me. That you would respect me enough to tell me the truth about the things that I need to know, and then help me figure out how best to move forward.

"But you just keep up the same old shit; holding onto your secrets, watching over your board and figuring out where best to position your pieces. Didn't you think it was important that I know about what you told me in there? Didn't you think, after everything I've been through, after everything I've had to endure, that I deserved to know? Didn't you think that it was my right to know?" As Albus tried to open his mouth to speak, Harry put up his hand in the universal sign to stop. "I know what you're going to say. That you didn't want to burden me. That you were searching for an answer. That you were afraid that it may get back to Voldemort. That you care about me too much to see me struggle with yet another in the long line of shitacular things that have defined my life up to this point." Harry took a knee to be on the same level as Dumbledore. "You chose wrong. You should have trusted me. You should have believed in me, the same way that I, and everyone else here, trust and believe in you. Yes, it was a terrible truth, and yes it would have hurt me. But not nearly as much as the betrayal I felt when you chose to reveal it only at the moment when you could no longer keep it hidden from me, when once again my life literally hung in the balance because of information you withheld from me."

Harry once again stood, leaning against Hermione both for comfort and for strength. "We are going to the Burrow to let Mum and everyone else know we're okay, and I'm going to get my head cleaned up, and then Hermione and I are leaving. Please don't ask where because I don't even think we know yet; I just know that I can't be at Hogwarts and I can't be near you right now. We will return to the school on Sunday evening, Headmaster. That is not up for debate. Please let the teachers know so that they can have our classmates write down any assignments for us, and let Neville and Luna know as well so that they know not to worry. And then, when I get back . . . there's a reckoning to be had between you and I, Albus Dumbledore. We are going to sit down and go over anything else that you may have been keeping from me. Again, not up for debate."

Harry closed his eyes and again took a deep breath. "When I'm calm again I'm sure I'll forgive you, as I've forgiven all of your previous lies of omission. I'm also sure that I'll feel incredibly bad that I'm the cause of you laying there. I understand the seemingly impossible positions you feel you are constantly being put in; if anyone here understands that, you know I do. And I know you care about me and are trying to keep me safe, and God help me but I care about you too much to stay mad forever. But that is not now; right now I'm having a very hard time keeping it to only the one punch. Think on your sins, Albus, and then we'll talk." Turning to Hermione, the two of them walked over toward the Minister of Magic, Remus and Tonks keeping a careful but respectful distance behind them, ready to assist if the teens needed them again.

Moody limped over and with a few waves of his wand healed the worst of Albus's likely broken jaw before fixing his real eye on Dumbledore. "I'm not sure what you did to that boy, Albus, but if I were you I'd fix it quick. I've never seen anything like what happened in there, and you know as well as I do that Potter is our best hope to end this thing." Albus could only nod as he saw Harry walk up to the Minister of Magic.

Twenty meters away, Harry and Hermione had just reached Scrimgeour and Robards. "Minister, Head Auror, I was hoping that I could throw myself on your mercies and request some leniency for all of the underage magic that I used so far today. I believe I could make a good case for the self-defense exemption." True to form, Hermione had freaked out earlier when she realized how many times Harry had broken the Reasonable Restriction on Underage Sorcery, in front of 3 Ministry officials no less. This was Harry's attempt to allay her fears that he'd be tossed in front of the Wizengamot again like he had been 2 years ago, though he really doubted that would happen.

His doubts were confirmed as Gawain just chuckled in response to his statement. "If I may, Minister?" he asked, getting a head nod from the former Head Auror. "Mister Potter, I believe that we can consider everything that happened this morning both self-defense and defense of innocents. I'll square everything away with the Improper Use of Magic Office. There will also be no charges related to the death of Bellatrix Lestrange, or any of the other Death Eaters who were killed today, nor for the . . . incident . . . that just occurred with the Chief Warlock. Heat of the moment and all that.

"On a personal note, that was probably the best spellwork I've ever seen from someone your age, from both of you," Robards continued, indicating Hermione as well. "If, after all of this is over, you still want to be an Auror, I'd be a fool not to sponsor you at the Academy." Both teens smiled at the praise before Scrimgeour took over the conversation.

"I have to agree with Gawain, on all counts, and I hope that we can still move forward with our agenda from before all of . . . this . . . started."

"Speaking of 'all of this,'" Harry began, "On behalf of the Weasley family I'd like to file charges against House Lestrange, House Dolohov, and the families of any other Death Eaters that were captured or killed today. They violated the truce of Last Day, and should be punished appropriately for it."

The Minister thought for a moment before responding. "I'll have to look up the relevant laws in the Archives to confirm your accusation, Harry. But if it holds up believe me I will put them before the Wizengamot and extract every piece of retribution that can legally be placed on them." Harry nodded in agreement, and the Minister smiled. "Alright. Let Peterson over there get you healed up and we'll set up a time for you to come by the Ministry in the next couple of weeks."

Bases covered, Harry allowed the Healer to clean, close, and dress his scar, before being handed a Pain Relief Potion, a mild Invigoration Draught, and a salve to apply to the scar to help with healing and instructions on how to use it. Pleased to get away from a Healer without a stay in a hospital bed, Harry and Hermione turned toward Remus and Tonks, who had taken up unofficial sentry duty over the teens. With very few words exchanged, the four of them Apparated back to the Burrow, where a large crowd of Weasleys was gathered in the back garden. Upon hearing the cracks of their arrival, Molly hurried through the throng of people, Ginny and Arthur hot on her heels.

Seeing the three of them, with obvious smiles of relief on their faces, reignited the guilt and shame that Harry had ruthlessly suppressed in order to do what needed to be done. His hand dropped out of Hermione's as he started stepping backward and she turned to him, a confused look on her face as to why his hands had come up to his mouth like he was trying to keep from vomiting. The three approaching Weasleys also slowed, not quite understanding what was going on.

"Oh my God," the three closest to him heard through his hands. "Oh my God, oh my god, oh my God, what did I do?" He looked around frantically, as if searching for an escape. "I . . . I can't . . . I . . ." was all he managed to get out before he turned and sprinted away toward the pond at the edge of the property.

"Harry!" Hermione yelled, the light bulb going off in her head about what was wrong. "Remus, can you . . . ?" she asked, indicating the approaching Weasleys.

Remus nodded. "We'll explain everything. Go help him." A quick nod of affirmation and thanks and Hermione took off after Harry, while Remus and Tonks turned back toward Molly, Arthur, and Ginny.

Harry ran as fast as he could, the normally soothing fields and woods of the Burrow's property a blur as he sped past and through them, though he wouldn't have noticed them even had he been moving at a more sedate pace. His mind was consumed with the images of what had happened; Ron rising as an Inferius; the animated body stalking towards him; his Incendio igniting before he utterly destroyed the mortal remains of his best mate. How will I face them again? his mind screamed. How could they possibly forgive me for what I've done? There's not even a body left to bury now! He ran faster as the muscles in his legs began to burn, welcoming the pain and hoping that it would somehow distract him from his revulsion and self-loathing at his actions in the cemetery.

When finally his legs could carry him no more, when his lungs burned from his exertions, he collapsed along the shore of the far side of the pond from the Burrow. He tried to crawl on his hands and knees to continue his escape, but he'd only made it a short distance before his stomach rebelled and he began retching and dry heaving on the ground. When his body had finally concluded there was nothing to bring up he tried again to crawl but found that his limbs no longer had the strength to carry him. Betrayed by his own body once more he collapsed onto his side in the fetal position before releasing a long, loud, primal scream of torment, his throat tearing at itself as it tried to release in sound all of the agony that Harry was feeling. When he had yelled himself hoarse he resorted to simply sobbing, unable to move and unable to think.

After an interminable amount of time Harry's senses began to return to him, and as he recognized that his heart was still beating and his lungs were still drawing air, his senses also recognized that he wasn't alone. Sensory nerves for touch felt a warm, definitely feminine body pressed tightly against his back, a delicate hand was running itself up and down his arm, and another person's warm breath was tickling the hairs near his ear. His sense of smell detected the delectable floral scent that he now associated with his best friend, and his hearing finally began to absorb the words being spoken to him in Hermione's soft, lilting timbre. "You did what needed to be done, Harry. There's no shame in that. We all understand, and we all still love you. I still love you. Please come back to me, let me help you find your way out of the dark. Together, Harry, remember? We'll get through all of this together."

Harry turned and engulfed her in his arms, needing her closeness to settle him. She stroked a hand through his hair as he squeezed her tightly for a few moments before pulling his head back to look at her smiling at him. "Are you okay to head back now?" she asked.

Harry shook his head. "Not yet. I don't think I can deal with it right now. Sometime this weekend, but for now . . . now I just want to get away."

Hermione's 'thinking face' came up for a moment, her eyes darting back and forth before settling on him again. "Okay. I have an idea. Up." Slowly both teens rose to their feet. "Hang on, it's going to take a couple of jumps to get there." Realizing they were about to Apparate, Harry held onto her arm tightly as the uncomfortable compressive feeling of magical travel overcame him. They appeared in what looked to be an alley in some city Harry did not recognize, but before he could ask where they were they were off again and then once more, finally landing in someone's bedroom. Soft blue walls matched the duvet on the bed against the far wall, and Harry took in a large desk and several well-organized bookshelves. Cognition came over Harry as he took in the room.

"Hermione, are we –"

"Welcome to the Granger home," Hermione answered simply. "Follow me." Taking hold of his hand once more, she pulled him out of the room and across the hall into a large bathroom. A jetted bathtub big enough to fit two and a good-sized walk-in shower stall ran the length of the far wall. The room was tiled in different shades of grey but still seemed bright and inviting. Hermione turned to face Harry and slid his disheveled robes off of his shoulders, throwing them back into the hallway. She then turned to the shower and started the water. "Alright, Harry," she said as she opened the door to a linen closet and pulled out a flannel and towel, "go ahead and get out of those clothes and throw them in the hall with your robes. I'll put them in the wash while you get cleaned up. I'm going to call Mum and Dad and let them know we're here so they don't freak when they get home." Seeing his slightly overwhelmed look she leaned in and kissed him softly on the lips, which seemed to bring his concentration back around, at least for the moment. "Shower," she said faux-commandingly, before walking out of the bathroom and down the stairs to the hallway phone. Dialing the number for her parents' clinic, it was picked up on the second ring.

"Thank you for calling Granger Dental Care, this is Melinda. How may I help you?" said a pleasant voice on the other end.

"Hi Melinda, it's Hermione."

"Hermione!" came the enthusiastic response. "How are you dear?"

Not wanting to alarm the sweet woman who ran reception at her parents' office, she replied simply "I'm fine. Is my Mum or Dad available?"

"Hold on, sweetie, I'll go check."

Standard hold music came across the speaker for a minute or two before a voice Hermione would know anywhere came on the other end. "Hermione? Is that really you sweetheart? Why aren't you at school?"

"It's a long story Mum, and it involves Ron's passing that I told you about in my last letter."

A sound that may have been a vague affirmation came across the line. "Simply terrible to use one so young. I'm so sorry love."

"Listen, Mum, I don't want to keep you, but I wanted to let you and Dad know that Harry and I are at the house so that you don't go spare if you get home and see lights on."

"Harry's with you? Hermione, what's going on?"

Hermione sighed. "It's too much to go into over the phone Mum; sufficed to say it's been a very bad day already. I'm okay, well, as okay as I can be, but there's a lot to tell you, and Harry's kind of in bad shape emotionally."

"Alright, Hermione, we'll pick this up when we get home. Dad and I both have appointments at 4:00, but we'll head home as soon as we can after. Do you want us to pick up something for dinner?"

"That would be great, Mum. Neither of us had breakfast before the service and I'm not sure if we're going to be in the mood for lunch."

"Hermione . . . ?" came the questioning voice.

"Like I said, Mum, it's a long story, but we're fine for the most part."

"As long as you're sure, dear," came the reply, though her tone was anything but sure about her daughter's response.

"I'm sure, Mum. I'll see you guys tonight."

"Alright, sweetheart. I love you."

"Love you too Mum. Bye." Hermione hung up the phone and made her way back upstairs, frowning when she saw that Harry had not heeded her words and thrown his dirty clothes in the hall. Knocking softly on the bathroom door and getting no response, she carefully pushed the door open and peeked inside. Seeing Harry sitting on the commode with his head in his hands, she made her way the rest of the way into the room and knelt down in front of him. She replaced his hands with her own and lifted his face up to meet hers. He seemed almost in a daze, as if he'd been subjected to a powerful Confundus Charm.

Steeling her nerve and gathering her Gryffindor courage, she slid her hands down and began untying his shoes, removing them and his socks before standing and pulling Harry to his feet. He finally came somewhat back to reality when she was three buttons into undoing his shirt. "Hermione, what are you doing?" he asked as he looked down at her.

"Well I'm certainly not having you get in the shower with your clothes on," she said simply as her slightly trembling hands continued down his shirt, more and more of his lean but well-defined chest being bared to her view as she went about her work. She finally got all of the buttons undone before sliding her hands up his torso in order to slip the shirt off his shoulders. Harry shivered at her touch, his mind whirring with the situation he found himself in.

"Hermione –"

A finger came up to his lips to stop him from continuing. "Do you trust me, Harry?" He nodded instead of having her remove her finger. "Are you sure you love me?" In response, he brought his hand up and gently caressed her cheek with the back of his knuckles, catching her with a glance that left no question as to his feelings. "That's what this is, Harry. This isn't sex. This is love. I understand how you're feeling, and I am hearing Caleb's words just as I'm pretty sure you are. I will tell you right now that you are not a monster, but even if you were I would still be here to put you back together. I love you, and I want to help you. You just need to let me." Hermione removed her finger from his lips and slipped his dress shirt the rest of the way off before moving her hands down to undo his belt.

As her hands worked at his waist, Harry's went into motion, sliding up past hers to undo her tie before undoing the top button of her blouse. Her eyes shot up to his, and both felt their pulses rise as they continued staring at each other as the remainder of each's outer clothing was discarded, leaving both in nothing but their underwear. Eyes still locked, Hermione moved her hands to her back and undid the clasp of her bra before dropping the undergarment to the floor. Harry sat down on the lid of the toilet and slid his hands down her sides, touching just the very edges of her ample chest, before hooking his fingers under her knickers and sliding them down her legs. She stepped out of them and then reversed their position, taking a seat and sliding his pants down, careful to avoid his very evident arousal. With them now both completely nude, she took his hand and led him toward the now steaming shower.

What followed was not a sexual but a sensual experience, two best friends on the cusp of becoming lovers, but not yet ready to take that step, reveling in the closeness that they shared. She lathered shampoo into his hair, finding out that he loved having her massage his scalp with her nails while she did so. He returned the favor, noting her groan of appreciation as he used his hands and fingers to carefully work the knots out of her tangled mane. She worked the flannel over his trim muscles, spending only slightly more time at his manhood than she did at any other spot on his body. For Hermione, no apology from Harry was necessary as he perhaps soaped and rinsed her breasts longer than was strictly necessary, and for drawing his hands repeatedly over her shapely and well-proportioned bum as he washed her back. The relatively light petting, along with a few sweet kisses, was the extent of their shower escapades. At the end, neither was breathing heavily or in danger of losing themselves to lust, but both certainly felt the need to allow their excitement to ebb as they toweled off. Still, the experience left them both in a better mindset and feeling of a much deeper connection between them.

The two teens walked back across the hall to Hermione's bedroom, where she dressed in fresh Muggle clothes from her chest of drawers. She opened the bottom drawer before pulling out a pair of sweatpants and tossing them to Harry. "Those are a bit big on me. You have longer legs but narrower hips, so they should fit you just fine. And I'm sorry, I love you but I'm not giving you a pair of my knickers to wear." She smiled and Harry chuckled as he sat on the edge of her bed and slid on them on. She then tossed him a long-sleeved t-shirt that proclaimed the wearer 'Property of Cambridge' before she went back over to the bathroom, collected both sets of discarded clothes, and led Harry downstairs.

"Are you hungry?" he asked her as they proceeded into the kitchen, Hermione on her way to the laundry room in the back.

"No, not really. I'd like a glass of ice water, though. The glasses are to the left of the sink," she replied before using her wand to cast a few Tergeo and Scourgify spells on their clothes. Having removed the worst remains of the day's battles, she put the outer robes on the floor and the rest of the clothes in the washer before starting the cycle. Returning to the kitchen, she accepted the glass of water from Harry with a word of thanks before leading him to the sitting room. Taking a spot on the couch, she patted the cushion next to her for him to join her. He did so, his own glass of water in hand. They sat in silence for several long minutes, neither knowing what to speak about after not only the events of the morning but what had happened since they'd left on their own.

Finally putting his glass down, Harry turned toward his best friend. "Hermione, can I ask you something? It might sound . . . well, horrible, but I really need to ask it."

"Harry, you know you can ask me anything, and I'll always make sure that I try my best to understand where you're coming from before I answer."

"Alright, here goes," Harry said, drawing in a deep breath. Deciding to just rip off the scab, he went with the direct approach. "What is this? What's going on with you and me? Is this because of Ron, or could this have always been in the cards? I know that I've cared for you for a long time, and I've loved you probably longer than I think I have. But . . . would you have kissed me if Ron were still here?"

Hermione sat back, giving Harry's questions honest thought before responding. "I think . . . I think for a while now, I've been in love with two men. Both had their benefits, and both had their flaws. One was a hero, a man who wanted nothing more than to be normal even though that was never going to happen. The other was the opposite; a normal man who wanted to be the hero of someone's story. I saw the appeal in both, as did others, and both became my very dearest friends.

"I've . . . well, I've had a fancy for you for several years now, Harry," she admitted with a blush. "When you and I worked together before the First Task, I reveled in the sensation of feeling needed by someone, of feeling someone wanted me in their presence. I enjoyed our alone time and the trust and faith you kept in me. That just grew into more as time went by. But after the letters from all of those horrid people after they thought you and I were together, I got scared. I was afraid of flying too close to the Sun, of those letters continuing on and getting worse. I imagined what it would be like for you and I to try and walk down Diagon Alley together, and all I heard in my head were jeers and jibes about how you should ditch the Mudblood because she was unworthy of the Boy Who Lived. About how I must have caught you with a Love Potion because there was no way the savior of the wizarding world would ever be with someone like me. I didn't know if I would be able to deal with all of that, and so I buried what was growing inside of me for you away, contenting myself that we would always be best friends.

"And Ron . . . well, Ron was simpler. Yes, he aggravated me more, but he was also quicker to make me laugh. There was no danger with Ron, no fear of backlash. I'm not saying that I considered anything that might happen between Ron and I 'settling,' that's absolutely not what I felt. But I guess it was that something with Ron would be unassuming, uncomplicated, and not subject to front page headlines.

"I realize now that I've loved you both; as a friend, as a kind of surrogate sister, and as that something more that crosses the line from 'loving someone' to 'being in love.' I just . . . I didn't want to make either of our lives more complicated or dangerous than they already are. Somewhere that I'm not really ready to admit to, I acknowledged that I could be with Ron and still love you, and while it would be painful we could find an equilibrium. But you and I both know that Ron would have had a lot of trouble accepting that dynamic, and it might cost both of us his friendship. I've always known how much Ron meant to you, and I couldn't be the cause of that kind of hurt for you. I care about you too much. Being with me, even now but especially then, will cause sensation and worse, and I know that's not what you want. You want a simple life, one free of speculation and scandal. You want to love someone and build a family that you can be proud of. And I want you to have everything you want, Harry."

Hermione turned her head away from Harry and stared at the far side of the room, trying desperately to get control of all the thoughts and emotions that were swirling through her mind. Harry also spent time trying to come to grips with everything he was feeling as well as everything that Hermione had just said. He could understand her viewpoint and appreciated that she had been willing to bury anything more than friendship she might feel out of a protective instinct toward him.

As he continued through his thoughts, he came to the conclusion that things were different now; that he was different now. Before he had wanted just to disappear into the crowd, to not be stared at like some sideshow attraction for something that he only remembered in his nightmares. Now . . . now he had picked up the gauntlet. He had declared to Hogwarts in words, to Voldemort in actions, and to himself by his promises, that he was taking up the mantle of what the rest of the world had always believed him to be but that he himself had never felt he deserved. The Boy Who Lived. The Chosen One. A savior. He would not shy away from nor be afraid of it any longer.

But in order to be those things, he knew he needed Hermione. Not because she was brilliant, though she certainly was. Not because she was capable, though again she had proved that many times in spades. He realized that he needed her because she really was his purpose. His goal. His promise. His home. His family. She was his focus and his reason for going on now. He would defend all of his friends with his life if necessary. But for Hermione . . . for her he would tear down the foundations of the world and rebuild them with his bare hands, if only to see her smile.

Lifting his hand, he gently took her chin in his fingers and turned her face back toward him. "What I want," he said, slowly drawing her toward him, "is you." His lips met hers and they both felt as if they were engulfed in fire. Hermione whimpered in pleasure as the sensations consumed her and she was pushed back flat on the couch before Harry settled himself over her, his mouth never leaving hers. Over the next few minutes hands roamed over clothes and occasionally under as their lips met and moved against each other in the age-old dance. Mouths hungry for the other's body sometimes locked on the delicate skin of their partner's neck, or parted to allow teeth to gently nip on sensitive spots and cause excited gasps from their target. And, dispersed throughout, were repeated many times the words both longed to hear from the other; "I love you."

Both settled after a time, soft pecks replacing fervid kisses, hands settling comfortably around each other as opposed to grasping wantonly at aroused flesh. They adjusted themselves on the couch, Hermione resting her head peacefully on Harry's chest, snuggling herself into his embrace. With a soft kiss to the top of her head, the two eventually drifted off to sleep, the extreme amounts of both emotion and magic they had used so far that day leading them into slumber.

A/N: I was not much older than Hermione is at this point in the story (less than a year difference) when I had almost the exact same experience as 'the shower scene' above. We considered ourselves 'only' friends at that point but became an item not long afterward for a short time before parting, and remain close friends to this day. I count it as one of the most inspiring, educational, sensual, and comforting experiences of my life, and is probably in my top 5 Patronus memories.

I'm not sure if I'm doing justice at articulating Hermione's reasoning or mindset with regard to her feelings for Ron and Harry. Anyone else who has ever been in love with more than person at the same time can probably attest that it is a very complicated thing to explain sometimes.

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