A/N: Here's another chappie for ya! :D

Hermione POV

The Burrow looked the same as always. Hermione smiled, a weak, shaky smile, full of relief, but also the lingering fear and hatred from the events of a few moments ago. She was reminded of Harry, who had brought them here, and turned around to thank him... but was greeted by a crack, as he disapparated.

"Home," Ginny breathed.

Hermione shook her head, trying to quash the growing feeling of sadness. They were safe. She should be happy. Wearing that same smile, she and Ginny walked into the house. The moment the door shut, a distraught-looking Draco came into the small foyer, and his eyes nearly popped out of their sockets.

"Oh, thank God!" he sighed, before rushing forward and enveloping them both in a tight hug. Hermione shared the embrace for a moment, then let the two of them have a moment. Just then, Ron came in, and heave a sigh before he gave her a hug. Hermione was surprised, but returned the embrace.

"Thank Merlin you're both safe," he whispered.

"Thank Harry, actually," she said, pulling away. "It was all his doing."

Ron nodded. "Well, where is he?"

Hermione felt herself frown. "He... disapparated when we got here."

"What, he doesn't want to be thanked?"

"I suppose not..."

"Well," Ron said, seeming unfazed, "perhaps I'll send him a letter."

Hermione didn't respond, but let him hug her again, and then accepted hugs from the rest of the Weasleys. After a few minutes of tearful reunion, Hermione excused herself, and apparated to her flat. Once there, she leaned against the door, and slid down to the floor, burying her face in her arms. She cried for several minutes; cried for Ginny, for the Weasleys, for herself... for Harry. Then, when she was certain she had cried herself dry, she curled up in bed and fell into a restless slumber.

New Year's Day came and went. Two weeks after the horrors of Christmas, everyone had gone back to work and school. Hermione returned to her usual, dry, monotonous schedule, which, admittedly, she loved, but something was different this time. She didn't love it as much, didn't take the same pleasure from the dull, dreary days as she used to. And she knew exactly why.

For the past two weeks, Hermione hadn't been able to get a certain green-eyed man out of her head. Why had he been so quick to leave? She couldn't fathom why he wouldn't want to see the Weasleys. He had said, and proven, that blood status and wealth meant nothing to him. Then why didn't he stay?

After a long day of work, she decided to go to the Burrow. She could certainly use the company, and she wanted to check up on Ginny. When she arrived, she heard voices coming from the kitchen, which she soon recognized as Draco and Ginny. She hid herself just outside the door, listening.

"I appreciate you checking in, Draco," Ginny said, "but it's not necessary. As you can see, I'm fine. Really," she added firmly. "You don't need to worry."

"I know I don't need to," he replied, "but I can't help it."

She laughed quietly. "You and Hermione, a couple of overprotective worrywarts."

"Ginny."

"I'm absolutely, one hundred percent—"

"I love you."

Hermione inhaled sharply, then covered her mouth, hoping they hadn't heard her. It didn't seem they had. After a moment, Ginny spoke again.

"W-what?"

"I love you," he repeated. "I don't know exactly when it started, but it's the absolute truth. And I can't stand by and pretend I don't feel the way I do. I'm driven mad with jealousy every time another man so much as looks at you. And on Christmas, when that... that bastard took you away... I was certain I would die. I was prepared to take my own life, if he had taken yours." Hermione gasped again. "Because I realized I can't live without you, Ginny. I love you too much to let you go."

A few beats of silence... then, "Oh, Draco. I love you, too. Always have."

Hermione smiled, and chose this opportunity to leave. She exited the house, being careful not to alert them to her presence, then apparated home. The smile lingered for a moment, then dissolved into a blank expression. She was happy for them; they both got what they wanted. They were perfect for each other. But for the first time in her life, Hermione felt completely alone.

It wasn't like her to feel this way. Even after her parents had died, Draco and Ginny were there to comfort her, to assure her that everything would be okay. She knew they would still be there for her, but it wasn't the same. She hated to admit this, even to herself, but... she wanted a partner. Someone to love her, cherish her, and hold her at night. Someone to constantly remind her how beautiful she was (though she wasn't always convinced of this), and to wipe away her tears.

Her thoughts were interrupted by a knock on the door. She opened it to find Ron, standing with the strangest expression on his face. "Ron!" she exclaimed. "This is a surprise. Is everything okay?"

"I was going to ask you that, actually," he said. "I saw you leaving the Burrow."

She felt herself blush, and smiled. "Well, I came to see Ginny, but left when I saw that she already had company."

"Draco," he nodded. "Yeah, I saw them in the kitchen, snogging the living daylights out of each other." Hermione giggled, and he smiled. "I saw that one coming."

"They'll be good together," she pointed out.

He just nodded absently. "So, you're okay then?"

"Why wouldn't I be?"

Ron bit his lip. "Well, sometimes I thought... it seemed like you and Draco—"

"Draco and I have never been, and never will be anything more than friends," she spoke her oft-repeated words. "Yes, we're unnaturally close, but there has never been anything but platonic feelings on either side."

"Okay," he said, and she noticed that he sounded relieved.

"Why do you ask?"

He was quiet for a moment, then he said, "I like you, Hermione. I've liked you for a long time." His cheeks turned bright red as he continued. "I've... always been too afraid to say anything to you, but I decided I should at least try."

Hermione sighed sadly. "Oh, Ron, I'm unbelievably flattered, but... I don't like you in that way. You're a fantastic guy, and I'm certain you'll make some lucky girl very happy someday. But I don't think that girl is me."

Ron nodded, his eyes downcast. "It's him, isn't it?" he mumbled.

She frowned. "Who?"

He looked her in the eye. "That Harry Potter. You're in love with him, aren't you?"

"N..." she began to deny it, but her voice stopped. She couldn't form the words. And as she thought, she realized that her feelings for the brooding, emerald-eyed man had changed dramatically since she met him. But love? Did she love him? "I-I don't know," she answered both her question and Ron's. "I don't know if I love him... but I do think I feel something."

Ron gave another nod. "I figured. It's okay, though. He seems an okay guy."

Hermione smiled her thanks, hugging him tightly. "You're a good friend, Ron," she told him. "Thank you."

After a moment, he pulled away, and she was alone again. But this time, she didn't feel it. Not as much, at least. And she had some confusing feelings to work out, and for this reason, she was grateful for the solitude.

She prepared herself a cup of coffee, then sat down in her favorite chair—an old, battered rocker that used to be her mother's—and thought as she rocked back and forth. She thought about the past few months in which she'd known Harry Potter, and pondered over how her feelings had changed. Within minutes of meeting him, she'd come to despise him, thinking him arrogant, thoughtless, and insufferable. But after his spontaneous confession of love, and the subsequent letter of apology, she'd been forced to stop and reconsider her judgment of him. For a long time, she'd been utterly perplexed, unable to form a solid opinion.

Then, she remembered the ball on Christmas Eve. The fire that burned beneath her skin at his touch; the passion in their dance; the heated gaze they'd shared. And she remembered how she'd felt in the graveyard, the following night. That overwhelming desire to comfort him, as he recounted the tale of his parents' death. The longing to kiss him, to be held by him.

Holy Merlin... she was in love with him.

When the hell did that happen?

Harry POV

Dear Mr. Potter,

As the Minister for Magic, I would like to thank you for your assistance in the arrest of one Blaise Zabini. As I'm sure you're aware—who isn't?—he's done things like this in the past, but has always managed to avoid the Aurors. He is sentenced to fifteen years in Azkaban, with the possibility of parole.

Now, as your friend, I'd like to thank you, again. This stays between us, but you're not the only one who thinks Zabini is a worthless sack of shite. And now he's locked up, no longer a threat. I'm sure your parents would be very proud of you.

Regards,

Kingsley Shacklebolt

Harry smiled briefly at the letter from Kingsley. He was relieved that Zabini would be in Azkaban—though he, himself, thought the sentence should be for life, no parole.

"Are you ever going to leave this room?"

He turned in surprise to the door, where Sirius stood. Harry bristled. "Yes, I am," he said. "In fact, I leave it quite often."

"Using the loo doesn't count," Sirius rolled his eyes. "That's a basic human need. I mean, are you going to leave it voluntarily any time soon?"

"What's it to you?" he snapped.

"I'm your godfather, boy," the older man retorted. "I think that demands a tiny bit of respect." Harry bowed his head, appropriately ashamed. "Now, listen here. I know you're angry over that Zabini character. I'm sure you're not the only one who was dying to have either his head or his manhood chopped off." Harry grimaced at the unpleasant mental image. "But it's done now. He's in Azkaban. Move on."

"It's not that," he blurted.

"Then what?" Harry remained silent, but of course, Sirius saw through him. "Oh, it's Hermione again, isn't it? Have you tried to contact her at all?"

"No," he sighed. "I hardly know what to say."

Sirius rolled his eyes. "Good God, man, if you weren't my godson, I'd beat the living tar out of you for being so pathetic." Harry opened his mouth to protest, but Sirius lifted a hand to silence him. "Just ask her how she is, make sure she's all right."

Harry straightened. "You think she's not all right?"

"Bloody hell," Sirius muttered, slapping his palm to his forehead. "Just ask her!"

Hermione POV

"Oi, Granger!"

She turned to see her boss, Jacob Henderson, sprinting toward her. "I was just on my way out," she said, hoping he would let her go.

He grinned. "I made a promise. You're promoted to reporter."

Hermione's jaw dropped. "Really?" she squeaked.

"I'll give you your first assignment at the staff meeting on Tuesday." He held out a hand for her to shake. She accepted, and shook his hand vigorously.

"Thank you so much, sir! I won't let you down!"

"Oh, I know you won't. You're a hard worker, Granger. I have complete faith in you."

With that, Jacob turned and went back to his office. Hermione gave a quiet squeal of delight, and returned home in high spirits. She would have to call Draco and Ginny, to share the news with them!

Draco POV

"You'd better go," Ginny whispered against his lips. The two of them were situated comfortably on the couch in the Burrow, wrapped in one another's arms. "My parents will be home soon."

He smirked. "They already know about us. Why hide it?"

"Just because they know doesn't mean my father's going to be okay seeing you with your mangy paws all over his baby girl."

"Oi!" he exclaimed, feigning offense. "I am not mangy!"

She giggled. "But you know I'm right."

Draco sighed. "Yeah, I know. I'll call you later tonight, okay?"

They shared another kiss, before both rose from the couch, walking toward the front door. Draco turned to his beautiful girlfriend, intent on stealing another kiss, when there was a knock at the door.

Ginny frowned. "Now, who could that be?" she wondered aloud, opening the door.

It was Harry Potter.

"Oh!" she said, obviously surprised. "Erm... hello, there, Ha—er, Mr. Potter."

He smiled briefly. "Please, call me Harry."

"Okay," she said, turning to Draco, her eyes wide with shock.

"What can we do for you?" he asked.

Harry bit his lip for a moment. "I was just... wondering if you," he looked at Ginny, "and Her—uh, Miss Granger were okay."

Ginny smiled. "Thank you for your concern. We're both fine."

He seemed unsatisfied. "Well... good."

Draco fought a smirk as he stepped forward. "If you'd like," he said, "I can give you Hermione's address, and you can check up on her yourself."

The other man's eyes lit up. "Yes, thank you."

Allowing the smirk to creep across his face, Draco produced a scrap of paper, and wrote down the address. He handed it to Harry, who thanked him, and disapparated without another word. Draco and Ginny shared a look.

"What. The. Hell," she mumbled.

Draco chuckled. "I'm having a Disney moment right now."

She frowned. "A Disney moment?"

He shook his head. "Never mind. I'll call you later," he added, bending down to steal a quick kiss from her, before he made his way down the front steps. As he left, he smiled, singing quietly, "Perhaps there's something there that wasn't there before..."

A/N: BAHAHA! I couldn't resist the Disney line! :D I know Draco probably wouldn't know what Disney was in the actual books, but in my mind, for this story, he and Hermione probably watched a lot of Muggle movies together, Disney ones included. So there. :) Hope you liked this chapter! We're near the finish line! One, maybe two chapters left! Please leave a review!