Harry Potter was in love with Ginny Weasley. He knew that much.

There was only one problem. Ginny Weasley was in love with Dean Thomas. And Dean Thomas was in love with Ginny Weasley.

And so here Harry sat, a newlywed whose wife had confessed to cheating on him, sitting in the Leaky Cauldron with his eyes burning. Famous Harry Potter. He could hear Malfoy spitting the words. Famous Harry Potter. Can't even slug down firewhisky alone in a pub without being recognised. He felt a hundred eyes on him as he sat alone at the table and sipped… and sipped and sipped.

"Harry!" exclaimed a voice, and when Harry looked up, Hermione Granger had come dashing in. She ran up to Harry's table and pulled out a chair for herself, sliding in and slamming her bag down on the table. "I heard. Ron's told me."

"Oh." Harry didn't have much else to say. He just gulped and whispered, "Well, then, you know that she's decided to move out. She and Dean… Ginny says she felt like she had to marry me. She says she was never really in love, not the way she and Dean…"

"It's rotten, Harry. As rotten as an apple full of worms." Hermione spoke matter-of-factly. She pinched her lips and shook her head. "I'd be lying if I said I wasn't ashamed of Ginny right now. But I'm even more cross with Ron. He says that Ginny needs to be happy, and obviously you weren't making her happy. I insisted that people can simply fall out of love, and he asked me how I'd know about that. It turned into a big row, and… well, anyway. Ron went to his parents' house for the night."

"Sorry," muttered Harry. "Last thing I want this to do is put a wedge between you and Ron. You're my best friends; I want you happy."

"I think everyone here wants everyone else to be happy," mumbled Hermione. "Unfortunately, we've got two feuding couples and a brother taking his sister's side against his best friend. It's a mess."

"It's a little inbred," chuckled Harry darkly. "We're all too interwoven, maybe."

"Yes. Perhaps." Hermione gave him a crooked smile that didn't reach her eyes. "Why don't you come to our flat? Ginny's still at your house, I take it."

"Yeah." Harry nodded. "She's not moving out for a few days, so…"

"Well, I'm sure Ron wouldn't mind if you borrowed his pyjama trousers and slept on our sofa," Hermione said. "And he won't be there to argue to matter with you, since he's gone to the Burrow."

"I guess I should stop sitting here drinking Blishen's Firewhisky like it's been discontinued," Harry said glumly. Hermione scoffed and pulled a few coins out of her bag. She plunked them down on the table and said quietly,

"Come on, Harry. Come with me."

Ron and Hermione's flat was cosy, with rose-patterned wallpaper in the sitting room and a sunny yellow kitchen. Harry sank onto the sofa the moment he and Hermione stepped inside. He'd been here many times since Ron and Hermione had married and moved in. That didn't feel so long ago, now. Ron had been drunk that day. Harry remembered holding Ron by the shoulders and insisting to him that if he didn't pull himself together, Hermione would simply refuse to marry him. Ron had swayed beside Harry at the end of the aisle, and now Harry wondered whether all the alcohol had been because Ron had been afraid of what was coming - afraid of married life. Perhaps if Harry had known what married life was going to be like, he would have been drunk on his wedding day, too.

"Can I get you something to eat?" Hermione asked, padding into the kitchen. "I've got mushroom crisps and jerky for snacks… Ron likes such junk. I've got fresh fruits and vegetables, too."

"Yes, I'd like some carrots, please," Harry joked, and Hermione rolled her eyes at him from the kitchen. She grabbed what appeared to be a handful of sweets from the cupboard and brought it over to Harry, holding it out as she said softly,

"For you, from Honeydukes."

"Mmm. Chocolate Frog," said Harry happily. He opened the package and quickly popped the frog into his mouth before it could jump away. Hermione giggled a little at his rush, sitting down beside him. Harry pulled out the card and said through a mouthful of chocolate,

"Bet it's Dumbledore. Half the time it's… oh, it's you."

He held out the card for Hermione to see. She snatched it and looked abashed, putting the card in her lap as her face smiled and then turned its head on one side of the purple-and-gold trinket. Harry swallowed the chocolate in his mouth and recited,

"Hermione Jean Granger. Born 1979. A witch of incredible intelligence and bravery, Hermione Granger sought out and destroyed the Horcruxes of Lord Voldemort, and she played a key role in his defeat. Now working to promote House-Elf rights at the Ministry of Magic."

"You've got it memorised," Hermione said quietly, staring at Harry with an odd look in her chestnut eyes. Harry sighed and shrugged.

"They haven't got it quite right."

"No?" Hermione whispered, and Harry said,

"They left out the bit where Ron and I would have died a hundred times without you. I bet your biography, when someone writes it all up, will be a best-seller."

"Your biography already is a best-seller," snorted Hermione. "Harry Potter: The Boy Who Lived. Still in the window at Flourish and Blotts."

"Well, you would know," Harry said. "You practically live in Flourish and Blotts."

He gestured around the sitting room, whose walls were lined with books on shelves. They didn't belong to Ron.

Hermione huffed a breath and said quietly to Harry,

"She says she doesn't love you. Maybe she does; maybe she's just confused. Maybe she loves you and Dean. Or maybe she's telling the truth, and she's fallen out of love with you."

"Yeah." Harry tapped his hands on his knees. "Yeah, maybe she's telling the truth. What about you and Ron, 'Mione? Is it still as wonderful as it was the day you married him?"

Hermione blinked, her eyes going wet. "No. It isn't."

Harry nodded. "Well. Marriage is… not what any of us expected. That's all right. I'm used to surprises in my life."

"Would you be surprised," Hermione began softly, "if I told you that I'd made a mistake?"

"A mistake," Harry repeated, shaking his head. "Marrying Ron, you mean?"

"Not telling you," Hermione said, sounding choked up, "all those years. Not telling you when we were camping alone, when it counted, when it would have… I ought to have told you, and I never did. I made a mistake."

"Told me." Harry sounded like a parrot, he knew, repeating everything Hermione said. But she finally swept at her eyes as though they were about to spill tears, and she murmured,

"I ought to have told you what a colossal crush I had on you, Harry Potter."

"Oh." He licked his lips, feeling more drunk now than he'd felt in the Leaky Cauldron. He shook his head and said, "We're both married."

"Yes, I know." Hermione sank her teeth into her bottom lip and furrowed her brows. "I know."

"Maybe… just once?" Harry suggested, and Hermione looked a little scandalised.

"Harry, we can't… we can't do that."

"No, I just meant one little -" He reached up for Hermione's face, his fingers and palm settling on her jaw. Hermione gasped a little and whispered,

"No, we mustn't do that, either."

"I never told you, Hermione Jean Granger, destroyer of Horcruxes and hero to House-Elves," said Harry softly, "but I've always had a crush on you, too."

"You're just saying that," Hermione insisted, "so I don't feel foolish."

"We're all fools in this, I think," Harry shrugged. "So let's be a little foolish."

Hermione shut her eyes, and Harry moved closer. He tipped his head to the right and pressed his lips to Hermione's, sucking in air hard through his nose. Hermione opened her lips and let out a shaking breath, and when Harry kissed her again, she let him in. His tongue twined with hers, dragging over the roof of her mouth. He suckled on her bottom lip and then licked a little, and he whispered onto her mouth,

"I should have told you."

"I should have told you," she hummed back. "Why didn't you ever say anything?"

"Because Ron's right about one thing, Hermione. You're just a little bit scary."

She laughed onto his lips and let him kiss her again, far more deeply this time. She wrapped her arm around his shoulder and tangled the fingers of her other hand in his messy black hair. She kissed him so hard that his lips felt bruised, and when she finally pulled away, her mouth was swollen and pearlescent. Her light brown eyes blazed with something - was it want? Did she want him?

"Harry," she whispered, "Perhaps just once."

Harry's mouth fell open. He licked his lips again and tasted Hermione on them, and he blinked quickly. Did he want her? Yes, he certainly did. He had for so long.

Suddenly the door to the flat opened, and Harry sprang back away from Hermione on the sofa. In walked Ron Weasley, looking tired and sorrowful. He shut the door and sighed.

"Hey, mate. I thought you might be here. I shouldn't have left, 'Mione. It was wrong. I just want to say… it's not right, what Ginny's doing. I went and talked to her, and… well, she's my sister, but you're my best friend. I made sure she understands that she's hurting you badly, mate. 'Mione, any chance of you cooking up some dinner?"

Hermione gave Harry a serious look and rose to her feet, tossing her Chocolate Frog card down on the cushion.

Author's Note: Be kind to me, please; this is my very first attempt at Harmony! I hope you enjoyed it.