Wow. Hands down, longest chapter I have ever written. More than 7000 words without the AN's.

This chapter made me realize that if I have enough imagination and smarts, I can take this story very deep. Tell me what you think at the end of the chapter.

Hermione felt herself being compressed through a small, narrow tube, mentally shaking her head over the wizarding world. Why had no one ever tried to find a safer and more comfortable method of travel?

She landed lightly on her high heels, an art learned more through necessity than practice. Without even a wobble, she set her purse down on a nearby chair, she stretched, and reached over her shoulder to pull out the pair of chopsticks that were keeping her curls up. They fell down around her face, and she heard a light groan come from behind her.

Her hand was reaching for her wand when she recognized the man in front of her. Running to him, he lifted her in to a hug, spinning her around.

"Jon!" she cried. "What are you doing here?" In the background she noticed Harry appearing.

The tall man with black hair and startlingly blue eyes set her down, still holding her close. "I came to see you, princess," he said, eyes smoldering. He was making her dizzy, an effect he had on all women ages twelve and up.

Hermione chuckled nervously. "Of course you did. Well," she sighed. Then she smacked his arm lightly, silently asking to be set down, pecking him on the cheek. "It's great to see you, Jon."

Keeping his hands on her waist, Jon smirked. "Of course it is, princess." His eyes flicked toward Harry, and they narrowed. "Are you going to introduce me to your date?"

"He's not my date," Hermione said quickly. "Anyway. Jon, this is Harry Potter. Harry, this is Jonathan King."

Hermione watched as Harry's forehead wrinkled in confusion, before the light of understanding lit his face. "Jonathan King. American, right?"

Jon's face registered his surprise. "Yeah, actually. From New York. How did you know?"

"One, the accent," Harry said dryly. "And two, you were in the-" he paused, unsure if Jonathan was a wizard. Then he remembered that he hadn't reacted strongly to a man suddenly appearing in a room. "The newspaper. It was running a few articles on Hermione, and your name was mentioned with her's."

Glancing toward Hermione, Jon smirked. "Did it," he said casually. "And what exactly did it say?"

Harry shrugged. "Nothing much. Just that you were seen with Hermione."

"You mean Lily," King said, a bit confused. "Right?"

Hermione shot a look toward Harry, who sighed. "Uh, right. Lily." The look of relief Hermione sent him made his feel much better.

Jon's happy expression was back, and he nodded. "Thought so."

"Go ahead and sit down, Jon, Harry," Hermione called over her shoulder, walking into the kitchen. "Do you want something to drink? Wine, tea?"

Jon snorted and shook his head. "Do you have beer, Lils?"

"No," Hermione said. "But-"

"Coke then," Jon called back. "You do have, Coke, right?"

"Yeah," Hermione said, walking back into the living room, drinks floating behind her. "Here." She handed a glass of water to Harry, and taking hers out of the air.

"Thanks, Lily," Jon said. "So are you going to tell me about your," he paused and wiggled his eyebrows. "Friend?"

Hermione hit his arm lightly. "You should know about him, Jon. I know you know who he is."

Jon shrugged. "You know I know the bare minimum of wizarding culture."

Hermione explained to Harry. "Jon's step-mother was a witch, and his step-siblings. He knows some of what happened here."

"You told him you were a witch?" questioned Harry. "Without knowing that about him? I might have to arrest you, Her- Lily," he teased.

Hermione stuck her tongue out. "Be quiet. We met a club. Then the next day I saw him with his little sister in the New York version of Diagon Alley."

Jon nodded. "So you're a cop?"

"The wizarding version," Harry said with a shrug. "I've been tracking down- well I guess you could call them terrorist cells."

"Wow," Jon said, then whistled. "Cool." He took a sip of the soda, then spoke again. "So how long have you known Lily?"

Harry thought for a moment. "Technically, ten years on the first of September. We became friends on the Halloween on that year."

Hermione rolled her eyes. "What he isn't telling you is that I barged into his compartment on the train and asked if he had seen a lost toad. And the Halloween we became friends was the Halloween he- well, he helped me."

Harry frowned slightly. The woman in front of him was colder, more reserved than the Hermione he knew.

"Helped you? Helped you how?" Jon's rough New York accent bored a hole into Harry's thoughts, and he answered without thinking.

"I trapped her in a bathroom with a mountain troll and consequently rescued her from it. I stuck my wand up its nose," Harry said distantly. "Troll boogies are no fun, as I recall." She had looked so young back then, Harry thought. So young, so scared, so vulnerable.

The glare Hermione sent him snapped him back to the present. The Hermione of the year 2000 was not so childish. She was a woman, with a woman's share of problems.

"You saved her life?" asked Jon. "I suppose I should thank you."

"It was a good investment," Harry replied, winking at Hermione, trying to break her from the mood she was in. "She's saved my life several times over herself."

Hermione coughed. "Yes. Would you care for some more Coke, Jon?"

"Nah, I'm okay. I really should get going," Jon yawned, setting his glass down and stretching. "I'm so damn tired. Jet lag and all. I really should travel the way you wizards do. Much easier on the system."

Hermione chuckled nervously. "Alright then. Where are you staying?"

"The Ritz, Lily. Where else?" He laughed, a deep throaty noise that made girls melt. "With my family, I had better stay at one of the best hotels in the world."

Hermione stood and walked with Jon to the door, then paused. "How exactly did you get in here?"

"About that," Jon said, eyes darting around the room. "I told your doorman I was a personal friend and he let me in."

Harry's eyes narrowed at this explanation, but he did not say anything. He would find out sooner or later.

Hermione kissed Jonathan on the cheek, and said her goodbyes, waiting at the door until he was down the elevator. As soon as he was out of sight, she sighed, and slumped against the door.

"Harry-" she began, then stopped.

Harry ran a hand through his already messy hair. "Hermione. Or should I call you Lily?" he spat.

The terribly wounded expression on Hermione's pale face made Harry feel instantly ashamed of himself. He had done it again, even though he had promised not to. "Sorry," he said in a quick exhale of breath. "That was uncalled for."

Hermione shook her head, using one hand to pull her heavy curls into a pony tail which she held together in one hand. The lack of the dark ringlets made her look seventeen again, and Harry's mind flew back almost five years. "No, Harry. You're right. I- I'm sorry."

Harry winced when he saw the tears forming in her eyes. "God damn it to hell," he muttered. "Hermione- No, Hermione don't cry. Please don't cry."

"I'm sorry," she said thickly. "I'm so sorry- I can't help it." The tears were running now, and Harry hated seeing Hermione cry. In his heart, he knew she had gone back to that night, just like he had. He crossed the room in five steps to gather her in his arms.

"Don't cry, Hermione." he murmured desperately. "Please don't cry, 'Mione. I can't stand to see you upset."

She just wrapped her arms around him and held him tightly. "I'm sorry, Harry."

Instead of speaking again, he scooped her up and carried her to the couch. With a few muttered words and some fancy wandwork, he exchanged her dress for a pair of pajamas. Still holding the crying woman, he leaned against the couch and let her cry herself out on him.

While her tears flowed, Harry's thoughts drifted back to another time they had sat like this, at a time when they had both sunk to the lowest they had been since the war.

~0o0~0o0~

"Well, well, well. If it isn't a Miss Hermione Granger, than I don't know the girl in front of me." Harry leaned against one of the pillars that was holding up the roof to the small cafe.

Hermione's head jerked up with surprise, wildly frightened expression fleeing when she recognized the man in front of her.

"Harry!" She cried, setting down her book and jumping into his arms. He squeezed her, kissed the top of her head, and reluctantly let her go. It was true. Absence did make the heart grow fonder.

She laughed, and kissed his cheek. "I love you, Harry, but if you ever scare me like that again I will castrate you or something. If you and Ginny ever want to have children, you had better be careful."

Harry smiled tightly at the thought of his girlfriend. "Will do. How are you? Soaking up the sun in Greece, it seems."

When she smiled brightly, Harry could appreciate her tan even more the contrast it provided to her white teeth. "How ever did you know?" Even though he couldn't see her eyes behind the large sunglasses she was wearing, he knew they were alive with mirth.

Harry let his eyes drift down her body slowly. "You seem a lot browner than you usually do. Reminds me of the summer before third year."

Hermione chuckled. "They wanted tan. I put a slight glamour on myself. I'm just getting browner and browner for the summer. Swim suit season, you know." She flipped her long curls over her shoulder and smirked at him. "Have you been keeping tabs on me, Harry?"

Harry smirked right back. "Of course I have. I was in the area with my partner and I wanted to stop by and see you. I've missed you, you know." He pulled out a chair and sat down across from her, snatching her iced coffee.

Hermione snatched it right back. "No. This is mine," she said firmly, tapping his hand lightly. Calling over the waiter, she ordered another one for him in fluent Greek. "There you go. Now why are you in Greece?"

Shrugging sheepishly, Harry opened his mouth, then closed it. "Uh. Well. Really, I was in Albania. It wasn't that long of a trip."

Hermione shook her head in exasperation. "Of course I wasn't. I'm glad to see you." Her eyes narrowed. "You were in Albania investigating the Horcrux?"

"That's classified," Harry said arrogantly before breaking down in laughter. "I've always wanted to say that. But yeah, I'm not supposed to tell anyone. But since when has that applied to you and Ron?"

Hermione shrugged, and took a lazy sip of her drink. "Never, I guess. So how is it going?"

"Nothing much to be honest," Harry admitted, accepting his drink from the waiter with a grateful smile. "They are using my head as a Horcrux detector and by mouth as a snake-to-human translating device."

Hermione winced. "Not fun. At least not as fun as going out with me. Are you game?" She lowered her sunglasses and gave him a sultry look, one eyebrow raised and eyes glittering with secrets.

Harry hesitated, then copied her expression. "I'm game."

She stood, slinging her purse over her shoulder in a smooth motion that sent a wave of some flowery perfume over to Harry. "Come over the hotel at six. We can grab a bite then go to one of the clubs."

Harry stood as well, finishing his drink and throwing some money on the table. "See you then," he said, departing with a wave.

He spent the day wandering around the city, returning the hotel around six, as asked by his best friend. He was just inside the door when he realized he had no idea what room she was in.

"Excuse me," he said to the man at the desk, speaking over the conversation of the group of young people behind him. "I need to know what room Lily Black is in."

A girl with large blue eyes and blonde hair squealed when she heard who he was there to see. "OMG! Greg, Mike, he's here to see Lily!" she called in a high pitched voice with the twang of an American accent.

Harry stepped back from the desk. "You know Lily?" he asked warily, unsure of how to deal with the blonde. The menacing looks the tall man- Greg it seemed- in the muscle shirt were giving him were a bit off putting.

Greg- or was it Mike?- put a large hand on the shoulder of the little blonde. "Lisa. We don't know if he really knows her or if he a crazy stalker or something."

Harry laughed. "I've known Lily since we were both eleven. It's weird to think of her having crazy stalkers." He frowned. "I need to do something about that," he muttered to himself.

The other girl with them, a- well, he didn't really know what to call a female with blue hair. A blue head? A blunette? Anyway, she shrugged, and flipped her long and very blue hair over her shoulder. "We might want to ask his name first. You know, maybe Lily's talked about him before or something."

Lisa smiled and bounced on her heels. "Great! Your always so smart, Allison. What's your name?"

The door man was watching with interest now, but Harry wasn't sure how much of the English he was understanding.

"Harry Potter," he said with a grin. "Pleased to make your acquaintance."

Lisa shrugged. "That does it for me," she announced to the group. "Lily talks about him all the time, he has the 'amazing green eyes' and he speaks with an English accent. She's in room 13, Harry Potter."

Harry started for the hall, waving over his shoulder. "Thanks," he called.

"No prob," Lisa called back. "Tell Lily that we'll be up as soon as we get our rooms."

Harry nodded, then made his way to the room marked with a large 13. He knocked, and he could hear Hermione walk to the door in what sounded like wickedly high heels.

She had obviously checked through the peephole, and then she flung open the door, pulling him into a hug. He could see that she already dressed to go out, in a sexy little white number that made her seem even tanner than she already was. It was rather short, and appeared even shorter with the high heels she was wearing that matched the gold jewelery and links on the dress. (Picture something like a tunic style dress with gold links on the shoulders)

"Harry!" She cried, molding her form to his own. "It's almost six fifteen. I thought you had to leave I hadn't gotten a chance to say goodbye."

He allowed himself to cling for a moment more, taking in the scent of her hair and the feeling of her body against his. "I would never do that to you, 'Mione."

She stiffened, pulling out of his arms. "Harry, as much as I love you-"

"Don't call you Hermione," he finished for her. "Sorry, Lily." He threw a glance of his own over his shoulder, then looked into her eyes. "No one is here anyway."

He heard the high bubbly laughter floating down the hall, then winced. "Let me amend that," he said, half dragging her into her room, "Your friends Greg, Mike, Lisa, and Allison are here."

Hermione chuckled nervously. "Ah. They are coming with us, if you don't mind."

Sighing, Harry flung himself on the couch. "Of course I don't mind. It's the first time I've seen you in a month and it's prolly the only chance I'll get for another month and we are going out the four slightly insane Americans."

She put her hands on her hips. "Harry. They invited- rather, Lisa invited- themselves along when I told them I was going out with someone tonight. And neither Lisa or Allison are slightly insane."

Harry groaned. "Allison seems okay. Lisa is more than slightly insane." A loud knock sounded on the door, and a voice called for Lily. "And they are here," he said with a frown.

Hermione walked over to Harry and hugged him tightly, pressing her lips to his cheek lightly. "I'm sorry our night is going to be interrupted. But we can still have fun," she whispered.

Harry smiled down at her, then kissed her on the forehead spontaneously. "Okay. But we ditch them at the club after a while. Deal?"

"Deal," she agreed, squeezing him again and going to answer the door. "Just remember my name."

Harry shook his head in exasperation. "Fine."

As soon as the door opened, Liza bounced through, squealing and hugging Hermione. Allison was more reserved, just giving her a smile and stepping into the room.

Harry could feel his eyes narrow and felt a- a protective feeling rise up within him when to two men just about lifted her off her feet with their hugs. She wasn't making it better, laughing and giggling.

"Put me down! Mike, I'm serious. Thank you. I want you to meet a very good friend of mine," she said all in one breath, taking him back to the days when he had been a little boy with a big scar and she had been a little know-it-all.

Liza hopped off the couch, and hugged Hermione again. "Yeah, we know him. We told him which room you were in."

Hermione went pale, with either rage or fright, Harry couldn't tell. "What? You just gave my room number to some random-"

"Oh, shut up, Hermione," the bubbly blonde said with a flap of her hand. "He said he was Harry Potter and he had the big ass scar on his forehead."

Allison stood, brushing invisible lint from a dress a shade darker than her vibrant hair. "He asked for you at the desk, anyway."

Hermione leaned against the desk in the room, still pale. Harry walked over to her, and hugged her tightly. "It was chance," he whispered, low and urgently, in her ear. "I knew where you were and which hotel you were in. And I highly doubt a Death Eater would use a phone book."

Her eyes were tightly closed, and her voice was barely audible when she spoke. "How did you know where I was? How did you find me? I thought I told all the Daily Prophet reporters to go away back in September, last year! Are they following me again?"

Glaring over Hermione's head, he answered, smiling in satisfaction when their eager audience looked away. "No. I knew where you were because I Googled it. So you are safe. And no one is coming after you, okay?"

She took a deep, shuddering breath. "Yeah. Thanks, Harry. Give me a sec to go grab my purse." She left the room hurriedly, obviously embarrassed.

Harry cast a heavy glance around the crowded hotel room. The two boys looked uncomfortable, Mike with his arm around Allison. Liza was lounging in an armchair, pouting.

"What?" she said with an annoyed huff. "I didn't mean to upset her again."

Harry jerked in his seat. "Again?" he asked. "What happened last time?"

Greg folded his arms across his chest, glaring. "None of your business."

"Everything that has to with- with Lily is my business," Harry said hotly. "She is my-"

Hermione emerged from her room, pausing to take in the scene in front of her. "Well," she said with an eye roll. "It is official. I cannot leave you in a room with more than one male for ten minutes without returning to find you glaring at one of them, Harry."

Harry smiled at her, animosity almost forgotten. "Well, love, it's not my fault. And you can leave me in a room with any of the men in the Order." She gave her tinkling little laugh, making Harry smile wider.

"Whatever, darling. However, I feel obliged to remind you that Viktor was at least an honorary member of the Order," she gave him a little smirk. "Try and refute that."

Shaking his head, he offered her his arm. "Are you read to go?" he asked the collective group before them.

Lily and Allison were staring with wide eyes, both obviously flabbergasted at the events that had just played out before them. Hermione blushed, and held Harry's arm tightly. "Well?" she asked, British accent crisper than ever.

Allison recovered first. "Uh, yeah," she said, grabbing Mike's hand. "Let's go."

They left the room first, followed by Liza, then Greg, and finally Harry and Hermione. They caught two cabs outside the hotel, and Hermione was soon directing the drivers to a nice restaurant that wasn't too far away. Harry, Hermione, and Liza were in one cab and Allison, Greg, and Mike in the other.

The ride, short as it was, was far too long for Harry's tastes. The only word he could find to describe Liza was 'bouncy.' She didn't walk: she bounced. Even her speech went up and down like one of those little balls made of hard rubber.

"And so he was like, 'Well, too bad. You can't get in until six.' And I was like 'Well, too bad. I need to get in now.' And so I called the manager, and told him everything and the guy had to let me in early. I mean, duh. How else was I supposed to get shoes my size after everyone else had gone through them? They only had about fifty pairs."

Harry wished he could bang his head against the window without being rude. He could see that Hermione was no more interested in the conversation than he was, and grabbed her hand lightly, like she had done to him when they were in school.

She jumped slightly, then relaxed against his body. They had always had that kind of casual intimacy. She had been the one to initiate it, always being very affectionate with both him and Ron. It had given Ron ideas, of course, and he had thought she fancied him and decided she wouldn't make a bad wife. He had never let it get romantic with her. He hadn't though it would be possible for her to treat him like she did with Ron when they broke up- almost never hugging him, taking his hand, leaning against him when they sat together. She always made sure that there was space between them. And after so many years of her affection- she being the first person he could remember hugging him, kissing his cheek, holding his hand- he would be lost in this world without it.

Even now- after she left- they could be close. It hardly took them any time after being apart to fall back into their easy routine. Their friendship had been forged in the flames of war. The two of them being friends, best friends, had been the one constant in Harry's life since Halloween, 1991. They argued and they got mad, but they had never been been willingly separated.

Until that night... and even then Hermione had made sure he knew, when almost no one else did, made sure he was alright with it. For all the words she had said to Ron about holding her back, he knew that if he had asked her to stay, she would have stayed.

But he had said nothing, accepting with a heavy heart and a guilty quiver in his stomach, pretending not to notice the way some fire that had always been in her eyes had just died. His relationship with her was straining his relationship with Ginny. And his relationship with Ron. He rationalized it in his head- they would still be best friends, only a little farther apart. She would get a job, live in America for a few months then come back when she felt more in control.

He was jolted back into the present by Hermione pulling him out of the cab. They had arrived at the restaurant- a small place that seemed a little overwhelmed by the group of twenty-somethings that had just entered the small gyro shop. The fact that they were all speaking English rattled the girl at the counter, who looked more than a little nervous facing the task of serving six Americans.

That was, until Hermione smiled kindly at her, and said something in Greek. The girl beamed at Hermione, saying something quickly in a high, sweet voice, that made Hermione laugh. The girl grabbed six menus and led them to a little table in the back of the empty restaurant.

Greg looked around, and sniffed. "Strange place you took us to, Lily," he said, voice full of doubt in Hermione's eatery of choice.

She just shrugged. "Take it or leave it, laddie." She leaned into Harry, looking up at him in a manner that was so suggestively innocent, Harry had to bite back a groan. Why did little things like the way she looked at him make his so damn uncomfortable?

"What do you want, Harry?" she asked him, and his mind raced with a hundred answers.

Instead, he just grinned at her. "Whatever you're having, darling," he said with a little bow. "Whatever the lady wishes."

Liza giggled. "Lily isn't going to eat, right?" The look she shot Hermione was incredulous, asking 'Why does he think you are going to eat?'

Harry frowned deeply, and turned to Hermione. "She is going to eat," he said quietly, taking in the way Hermione hesitated for a moment. Then more jovially, "She knows that if she doesn't, I'll drag her back to England, and to a place called the Burrow."

Laughing bitterly, Hermione shook her head. "Molly would rather poison me than fatten me up right now."

Allison had been regarding them with a quiet curiosity. "Why's that, Lily?" she asked, azure head tilted to the side.

"Because I dumped her son," Hermione replied readily, pinching Harry under the table. "And I am going to eat."

Liza gasped. "Marco will kill you," she sang in a high voice. "You are a model, Lily. You should know by now that we don't eat."

Hermione locked eyes with Harry, a familiar glitter lighting them. It was the same dangerous sheen she always got before she broke every rule in the book: from breaking into Gringotts to brewing Polyjuice Potion in a girl's bathroom.

"Screw that," she said eloquently. "I'm having a gyro." She smirked. "What about the rest of you?"

The boys just grinned with her and told her what they wanted. Allison had just a ghost of a smile on her face, ordering a salad. Liza just pouted.

"I'll have something offa Ali," was all she said. Hermione just waved over the girl, who took their order and left for the kitchens.

While they were waiting for the food to arrive, the rest of the table stared at Harry and Hermione until the looked at each other and sighed.

"What?" asked Hermione crossly. "Do I have a six-fingered hand growing out of my forehead?"

Harry chuckled. "No, dear. It only has five fingers."

This time it was Hermione who cracked up. "Shut up," she told him. Then to the rest of the group: "What?"

It was Greg who asked to first question. "So how did you two meet?"

Harry asked her the question with his eyes, she was the one who answered. "He saved my life," she said truthfully. "We were eleven. By the time we were fifteen, he had done it another three times or so."

Mike raised an eyebrow, looking at Greg. "Kinda hard to compete with that," he said with a snort.

It appeared that Liza had already forgotten her earlier tiff with Hermione. "That is so romantic. You're like, the damsel in distress and he's your handsome prince!"

They looked at each other, and burst out laughing. "First," Harry said. "We aren't dating. We never have dated." He noticed that he didn't say they never would. He didn't know if Hermione had noticed or not. "Second," he continued, "There is no way anyone who knows her can mistake Her- Lily I mean- for a damsel in distress. That is just not in her nature. She's prolly rescued me more than I've rescued her."

"What kind of situations were you in that you need a girl to rescue you?" asked Greg with a ill hidden laugh. "Were you being attacked by a big bad wolf?"

Close, Harry thought to himself. Instead, he forced himself to laugh. "No. And you had best learn right now to never underestimate Lily."

He rose abruptly. "Lily- I am going to leave now I think," he said quickly. "I've got to report back to Headquarters and the Ministry. I'll catch up with you in Madrid- I made sure I got an assignment there for the week after next."

Ignoring her hurt expression, ignoring the way Liza was eyeing him, ignoring the way the girl who had seated them was staring, he left the restaurant.

The walk in the balmy heat seemed to reorient him. Gods, he could be so stupid. This was probably the last time he would see Hermione for a few weeks if she was as mad at him as he thought she would be.

He hated having Hermione mad at him. Not only was it not healthy if you wanted to keep all your body parts unharmed and attached to the proper places, but because he simply hated upsetting her. It wasn't that he was afraid of her- he could probably beat her in a duel, if it came down to it- although it was always wise to be at least wary of Hermione Granger. But when she was angry or mad, there was usually a good reason. Not always, but usually. It meant that he had disappointed her at the very least.

But those people she called friends- he really couldn't stand them. The Hermione he thought he knew would never be able to stand such shallow and annoying people for long amounts of time. It wasn't that they were Americans, he had no problem with that. It was that they seemed to project the very qualities Hermione had always hated.

He Apparated back to the hotel, appearing in an alley he had noticed the first time. He wasn't going to leave town with her still mad at him. It wouldn't be right.

He was sleeping sitting up on the couch when she crept into the room at one in the morning. She shook him awake, eyes cold and hand on his shoulder removed as soon as he was conscious.

"Hermione," he said groggily. "Mione. Give me a moment to wake up."

"Do you want to explain what you're doing on my couch?" she asked, sitting down on an arm chair to remove her shoes. "I'm tired, I want to get to bed. I'm on a plane at two tomorrow. And I'm pissed."

"Why though?" he asked, cracking his spine. "Tell me. Do you really value their opinions that much?" His weariness made his speak bluntly, and he didn't regret it. "The Hermione I know and love would never put up with people likes those. They seem 'nice' and all, but really, Hermione, you wouldn't have willingly gone for dinner with them, or gone dancing with them. In fact, the girl I knew never went dancing at all."

"No one could tell the Hermione you knew was a girl at all," Hermione shot back. "Maybe I like being able to goof off and have a good time, with 'nice' people. Maybe I like going dancing." She turned away from him. "What if I like being the center of attention? What if I enjoy having men want me for something other than my brain? What is the harm?"

Harry stared at her, feeling something within him break. "Well. That settles it." He slipped on his shoes and walked to the door of her room, stopping in front of the mirror to try and flatten his hair.

"That settles what?" snapped Hermione, hands on hips.

Harry looked at her, eyes hard and cold. "The Hermione I knew no longer exists. The best friend I ever had has died. All that is left is a pretty face who cares more about shoes and pictures than her friends."

Hermione looked as if he had punched her in the stomach. Her face was devoid of all color, her hand was fluttering at her chest, her eyes were wide with fright.

"Harry?" she asked desperately. "Harry, don't do this! Don't-"

"Don't what?" he asked, leaning against the door. "Don't leave you to the life you wanted to live? Don't let you go so you can 'find yourself?' Don't step back and watch you have the ride of your life?" He messed his hair with his hand, a nervous gesture he had adopted somewhere around fifth year. "I'm leaving now, Lily."

"Hermione," she whispered, voice barely audible. "My name is Hermione."

"Not anymore," he said, refusing to look at her. "Hermione Granger is the first person I realized I loved. She was a sister, a friend, a part of me. We were so close, that we could have conversations without ever opening our mouths. She was one third of Harry Potter." His voice had softened and warmed, now it turned harder. "Lily Black is a girl who I don't recognize. She is nothing like Hermione Granger."

"Why are you being so mean to me?" she cried, tears streaming down her cheeks. "I am Hermione Granger! I love to read and learn more than almost anything in the world. The only thing- person- who is more important is you! Harry-" she collapsed. "I don't know what to do. If you hate them so much, I won't see them any more, I promise."

"That isn't it!" he shouted. "It isn't just the people! You aren't the person you used to be!"

"Neither are you!" she yelled right back."No one is forever the same person they were at eighteen!"

"But at least my values haven't changed! What do you think McGonagall would do if she saw you right now? What about Ron?" he asked.

She didn't say anything. "What do you want?" she asked wearily. "Is it what you really want? To separate us this way forever? If you walk out that door right now, then we will never be the same." When he didn't move, didn't say anything, her voice cracked. "Is this your excuse? You don't want to bother with me anymore? You want us to part ways?"

"Anything but," he said at least, voice tired. "I want us to go back to being innocent firsties."

"I want us to go back to being friends," she said softly. "I want my Harry back. My just Harry, who never wanted the fate thrust upon him."

"Well, I'm right here!" he exploded. "Why don't you care about me anymore?"

She looked at him, completely shocked. "Harry. I look forward to your visits more than anything else. I wish I could be living up the stair case next to you again but-"

"Then why don't you?" he asked bitterly. "Why don't you come back to me? Are you so happy?"

She thought for a moment or two. "I am happier than I was."

Harry stepped away from the door, and was soon standing close to her, towering above her. "And what about me? Does my happiness matter?"

Hermione reached up a hand, and laid it against Harry's cheek. "At one point, it meant the world to me. But sometimes I need to come first in my life. But that doesn't mean I don't care for you."

"Then what does it mean?" asked Harry. "Tell me."

She shook her head sorrowfully. "There are things you don't know, Harry. Things you many never know. Things I want to shield you from."

His anger had evaporated. There were things he had kept from her as well, one secret from the girl who knew all his secrets. "I understand." He bent down and enveloped her in his arms, burying his head in her wild curls, realizing that he was being stupid- how could he have almost chosen to never again hug Hermione, never again take in her scent and the shape of her body?

"I'm being an ass, Hermione. I'm sorry," he whispered in her hair. "I'm a stupid, selfish, ignorant man."

"Will you leave me?" she asked in that tone of complete and utter heartbreak. "Will you ever do that again? Threaten to dissolve our friendship now that you know I would do anything to keep it whole?"

"Never again," he promised. "Never again."

That was when she came apart in his arms, sobbing and hitting him over and over with her little fists. When the hour changed from two to three, she was still in his arms, having cried herself out. She had finally fallen asleep.

~0o0~0o0

She was sleeping now, heavily. He stood carefully, watching as she snuggled closer to him in her sleep. The morning after he had almost broken their friendship, they had awoken on the couch together, looked at each other, then fell into a hug.

He remembered how she had almost started crying again. This time, instead of watching, he wiped away her tears, and when he had to leave, he did so with a promise to meet her in Spain for a much needed talk.

They had talked, and they were closer than ever now. Their relationship had changed, but Harry thought it was for the better, not for the worst.

And he hoped he was right.

Well, not exactly an easy chapter to write. I want your opinion.

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Review, please. I hope you liked this chapter.