It had seemed like a perfectly sensible decision when they discussed things while half-drunk on a noisy Friday night at the Leaky Cauldron.

Harry had recently left his shared flat with Ginny following their break-up and taken temporary refuge with Ron and George in their apartment above Weasley's Wizarding Wheezes. However, all their efforts weren't enough to keep Ginny's howlers from coming in, or her appearing out of nowhere to torment him in the oddest of ways. Harry was tired as hell of all this breaking-up ordeal and the brothers were too. Though Ron and George had the best of intentions and knew that the end of his and Ginny's nine-year relationship had become tragically inevitable, it was hard to keep playing mediator between their best mate and little sister on a daily basis. Enough was enough and Harry knew he needed to move out, for the sake of all their sanities.

So when Hermione told him that she was given her three-bedroom childhood home to move back into after her parents retired to Portugal, it seemed only sensible for her to offer Harry room and board in his time of need. It'd only be temporary anyway, for as long as he needed until his tenants departed the flat he owned on the converted top-floor of 12 Grimmauld Place.

Hermione's house was comfortable and large enough, had been recently renovated and Harry wouldn't need to worry about rent as long as he split all the bills with her. Though money was definitely not an issue, her proposition was tempting and it wasn't like they had never lived together before. They'd lived in the direst of ways in a tent together during the war ten years ago and there had been that semester after graduating from Hogwarts where they lived in a flat in central London, trying to figure out what they'd do from then on.

But eventually Hermione left to attend University in France thinking a change of scenery, language and just about everything would help her get over all the leftover pain and trauma, and she'd always been the intellectual type anyway. Paris suited her like no place ever seemed to have before, not even their beloved Hogwarts. As for Harry, he had stayed behind for girlfriend reasons and because of a 'promising' career as an Auror.

What is it about being almost thirty that makes people completely want to change their lives before thirty actually arrives and it feels like it's too late?

Harry was sick and tired of being an Auror. He was also sick and tired of being Ginny's fiancé and having arguments with her at least once a month over his hesitancy to schedule a wedding date or start a family. Ginny rightfully accused him of being selfish and thinking only of himself, leading her on for all these years. But of course, he had! Marriage to Ginny Weasley would mean being married forever, living under the same roof with her forever, being part of the amazing-yet-scary Weasley family forever .

It was during a moment of clarity while on a Sunday outing with his very wise ten-year-old godson that Harry realized it all had to come to an end, otherwise Harry himself would come to an end.

So Harry turned in his resignation and enthusiastically accepted his best friend Hermione's proposition. They both figured it would be nice to have the company and living together would be the perfect way for them to reacquaint themselves with one another, after all, she'd been living in the continent for the better part of a decade and they had much to catch up on.

…

The day Harry arrived with his few belongings at number 7 Thistlewaite Street, it was raining cats and dogs and he'd been equal parts lucky and unfortunate to have hitched a ride in the old Ford Anglia that Arthur Weasley bequeathed to his sons George and Ron upon his old age. The car was practically falling apart but managed to deliver him safe and sound. He barely had the chance to take a breath of crisp December fresh air when he was drenched head to toe with the freezing rain. Quite simply he'd forgotten to mutter the simplest of spells. He waved to Ron behind the wheel and dragged his old school trunk, as he stepped past the boundary of an old wrought-iron gate painted white, Hermione's house wards chimed and he immediately saw the dark blue door open wide, her figure watching over him from the doorframe.

"Well aren't you a sight for sore eyes," She said with an almost evil grin, letting him through into the tiled foyer. With a swish of her wand and muttering an incantation he barely registered, his clothing became immediately dry, as well as his hair. All he could do was blink in her direction, not knowing quite well where to hide. "I just cleaned the house this morning, if you got everything wet I'd be forced to hex you."

Her face was so dead-pan and her eyes so serious as they bore into Harry's that he felt a shiver down his spine. Perhaps it hadn't been his brightest idea to move in with a textbook Virgo, a woman who was such a complete control-freak and perfectionist that she didn't know the meaning of the word 'relax'.

Harry felt like a mouse falling straight into a deathtrap. All of a sudden he longed for the stained sofa in George and Ron's flat that he'd been sleeping on for three weeks now.

Hermione seemed to detect his look of pure fright as he gazed back at her, not too differently from the terrified stares of her first-year students at Beauxbatons. "Seriously, Harry, it's like you don't know me at all." She rolled her eyes and exhaled dramatically, locking the front door behind them manually. "Care for a spot of tea?"

"I do, actually." He left his trunk right there at the foyer and followed her into the living room, which further connected to a dining area before entering the kitchen of bright red cupboards and light-green walls. It smelled of spices, ginger, cinnamon, a bit of clove… Spices that reminded him of Hogwarts at Christmastime. "Dear Merlin, you're baking!" It wasn't a question and Hermione shrugged as she reached for the kettle and lit the stove with a match, while Harry eyed the oven with a teasing smile.

"I'll have you know that I've picked up a few culinary tricks in France." She shook her head then started going through the cabinets until she finally took out a tin filled with different flavors of tea. "Which do you prefer? I've got Yorkshire, Earl Grey, Hibiscus, Cinnamon, Green tea, and Chamomile."

"Earl Grey, please." Harry looked around, feeling uneasy that she was working all alone. He decided he was better off helping somehow. "Where do the teacups go?"

"Third cabinet from the left, next to the refrigerator." She answered as she took three bags of tea and threw them in a teapot she'd placed on the counter earlier. He could already smell the citrusy bergamot scent, which oddly reminded him of Divination under Professor Trelawney. No sooner did the kettle begin to whistle and Harry found the pretty porcelain teacups. Hermione then took out her first batch of freshly baked gingerbread cookies. The scent of them made his mouth water and Harry really hoped that his best friend had truly learned to properly bake. He levitated the cups and teapot while she placed the cookies on a plate. The two of them left the kitchen and settled themselves comfortably on the blue camelback sofa in the living room.

Hermione eyed him rather strangely for a moment as if she wanted to say something but was afraid. To be honest, it was quite awkward for him too.

"So, tell me, Harry, how have you been? I'm sorry we didn't properly talk at the Leaky Cauldron... I reckon we were both too eager to get plastered." There was a hint of humor as she spoke, remembering their first meeting in months on end that took place the past weekend. Hermione took a sip from her cup and Harry watched her with interest as she seemed to savor the taste.

"You didn't put milk in your tea… That's very un-English." He pointed out, knitting his eyebrows. She looked up from her tea to gaze at him and couldn't help but chuckle.

"Well, one can actually feel the taste this way." Harry rolled his eyes, but couldn't hide the smile that appeared on his face from hearing that particular tone in her voice. The kind that was bordering on arrogant and full of pride. Right then and there she was twelve-year-old Hermione again, and Merlin how he'd missed her. Hell, he'd even missed fifteen-year-old Hermione! "Anyway, don't change the subject…"

"Hmm, well, to be honest, I think maybe it was what I needed-leaving Ginny and the Auror Academy. And really, you offering me to stay here was a bit of a saving grace..." He gestured around the house. "This feels more comfortable than Ron and George's flat. Sleeping in a proper bed for once will be nice, their sofa isn't great for my back."

"Your back?" Concern etched on her face as she began to nibble on a cookie.

"I don't know about you, 'Mione, but you know you're getting old when you've at least complained about your back!" He spoke in a light humorous tone.

She smiled softly then put her teacup down. "Really, Harry, how are you? You've just made two important decisions and I don't expect you to be totally fine with it. You've ended your longest relationship and your career! You know there had been rumors about you becoming Head Auror in a couple of years..."

Harry sighed deeply, his eyes conveying a tiredness that he'd been mostly successful at hiding until now. Hermione always had a way of lowering his defenses and calling him out on his bullshit.

"Believe it or not, I have never felt this weightless even after the war. It only took one conversation with Teddy to finally make me realize. But don't think it's been all that easy either..."

Hermione's eyes shined at the mention of Teddy's name. It was no secret that she'd always had a sweet spot for him, the boy looked like Dora, but his heart and his quiet wisdom were all his father Remus.

"Oh, that godson of yours is getting more brilliant by the day. Andromeda's done splendidly." She said with fondness.

"Yeah, that kid will give you a run for your money, Hermione. He's as brilliant as you." He smiled as a sudden feeling of warmth enveloped him. He wondered if that's what fathers felt when they were proud of their offspring. In a sense, Teddy Lupin felt like Harry's own.

"So, what did Teddy say that made you just drop everything?" She smiled back affectionately as she noticed his reaction upon mentioning his godson.

"Can you believe that he quoted some dead muggle writer bloke? I don't know what Andromeda is feeding him or reading to him. Kid's way beyond his years... Anyway, Ted told me that 'To live is the rarest thing in the world. Most people exist, that is all.' "

Hermione's eyes widened ever so slightly upon hearing those words, impressed by how a little boy knew them and also with just how much it seemed to have touched her best friend's stubborn brain.

Harry continued, "I'm not sure how he got to telling that to me, maybe he's just more perceptive than normal." He turned his head to face her better. "All I know is that it got to me, and the next thing I knew I had ended things with Ginny and quit my job. It took donkey years for me to get past the denial phase... I realized that I was constantly trying to convince myself I was happy but in truth all I was doing was getting too comfortable in the routine… Stuck in this stupid bubble. I think I'm still too young to be living in a bubble."

"The dead muggle writer bloke was Oscar Wilde, actually… And I couldn't agree more with your decision. If it's made you happier then why not? Nobody wants to be stuck in a cycle that would only result in regrets and could-have-beens later on." She told him assuringly. There was a bit of silence as they drank and ate their cookies, in fact, Harry found them quite delicious, rivaling the ones they'd eat at Hogwarts during the holidays.

Her eyes met with his again and she felt compelled to ask: "So, what's next for Harry Potter?"

"Oh, well I'm actually on holiday, if you don't mind…" He responded with a smug grin. "I intend to eat a lot, sleep a lot, go out just a bit, but mostly catch up on my muggle movies and avoid Ginny. The last hex she cast my way had my Harry jr. unresponsive for a week."

Hermione choked on her tea, sputtering in laughter. Her cheeks turned a bright crimson as the warm liquid trickled down her chin. Harry laughed as well with a twinkle in his eyes as he watched her. There was nothing quite like Hermione Granger's laugh. It was loud, unladylike, unapologetic, fearless and every bit her. He'd missed having Hermione around all these years.

"All right, Miss-laughs-a-lot, what brings you back to these dull English shores?"

"Oh, you know, re-writing that miserable 'Hogwarts, a History' . I'll finally make it good, Harry."

"Make it good ? Hermione, if it wasn't good enough why did you read it over and over again when we were kids?" Hermione tilted her head and looked at him in that way of hers that translated to 'you poor, ignorant sod' .

"Oh, Harry, you've never read it properly have you? Because if you did you'd know how terribly dull it is, not to mention completely unfair and riddled with inequality! It doesn't mention the house-elves, nor any notable muggle-borns and it's obscenely biased when it comes to certain houses. I'm going to make the new generations love it, Harry."

There was a flaming passion in Hermione's voice and eyes and Harry quite envied her for it. Hermione knew what she wanted, even though she was quite delusional. No regular kids would ever willingly read and enjoy the book. Of course he wouldn't be the one to break it to her.

"So you left your job as a Beauxbatons professor for this ?" Hermione nodded and shrugged, tucking her legs beneath her as she leaned further into the sofa.

"I loved my job, Harry, but it was never home."

He nodded in understanding and looked at her with those big shocking-green eyes of his. There'd always been a level of sadness in them, which was to be expected given all the tragic circumstances of Harry's life. Nevertheless, they were truly the prettiest pair of eyes Hermione had ever seen.

"Hermione, how does one know they're home?" She was silent for a long moment and not just because her mouth was full.

"I don't have the answer to that one yet, Harry. I guess we'll have to find out together…" She smiled at him brightly, then added: "Harry… The two of us as housemates. Are you sure you're ready?" Harry eyed her in that smug way of his and bumped her gently with his elbow.

"I'm super ready."