Disclaimer: I own nothing but the plot.

Every Little Thing She Does Is Magic

"Cause you are loved,

You are loved more than you know."

Sleeping At Last - Light

Sometimes, you have these moments in your life when you need to look back, and think about everything that you've done. Every little thing that had an impact on what you are right now. And Hermione Granger was experiencing this right now.

Lost into her thoughts, the Daily Prophet in front of her, she was thinking about everything that she had done in the past; every battle that she had lived with Harry and Ron, every curse that she had avoided, every little genius idea that she had had. She refrained a smile, thinking about everything that they went through, as a team. They had always been three, even if the two boys didn't seem to like her in the first place. But never mind; at the end of their schooling, they were three and now...

Now they were not close as in the past. Life happened, and she had left for Hogwarts, burying herself into her job. Of course, from time to time, she was taking some time for herself, and decided to spend a few days with Harry and Ginny, but Ron... Ron was a part of her life that she almost wanted to forget about. Not the friendship part, no. Ron was her friend no matter what. Hermione refrained a sarcastic laugh when she realised that Ron had been her only lover, despite the fact that she was currently 26-year-old. At 26, she had just had one boyfriend, and he was one of her best friends.

"Pathetic," she muttered to herself, and tried to focus on the Daily Prophet.

Even if the life that she had lived since the end of her schooling hadn't been the one that she was looking for, she had the feeling that now was the moment to change everything around her: her job, her way to see things. She wanted to live, that's all.

At the dinner the previous day at her parent's, her mum had asked her if she had someone in her life. Awkwardly enough, Hermione had just laughed, as if it was a funny question to ask. But swiftly, while seeing her parent's disturbed look, her face had hardened. No, mum, I have no one at the moment. "At the moment": this little portion of sentence was supposed to give hope to her parents, to give her hope too. Who knew? Maybe that she would find someone at her new job. Maybe that she could subscribe to these speed-dates that her mum had talked her about one year ago. Maybe...

It was something that Hermione didn't like to talk about: her affective life. She had always felt insecure about her charm, about her look... Her hair was still a living hell, even if it was tamer than before, thanks Merlin for this little miracle. She knew that it wasn't with a face free from make-up that she could make someone fall for her, Ron had been clear enough about this point a few months before their break-up.

Was she mad at him after all this time? She wasn't sure. A part of her didn't want to forgive him for his attitude, but another part wanted to move on, and to be able to continue a friendship with the redhead boy. He meant something to her, of course, just like Harry meant something to her.

Harry... Hermione started to nervously play with a page of the newspapers when she thought about her friend, her friend who was the father of an amazing boy. A smile lightened her face, and she remembered about these moments that she had witnessed, these moments when Harry and James played together, sharing a real father and son relationship. For that, she was almost happy that Ginny had left for her Quidditch training. Somehow, it was what Harry needed: to focus on the real things, on the things in his life that mattered. James mattered, and he was the best thing that her friend had done in his whole life.

Inwardly, Hermione realised that she was a little jealous of Harry. Or was she jealous of Ginny? After all, she was the one who had everything that a woman could want in her life: a husband, a baby, and now a career. The former Hogwarts' teacher realised that she had none of it so far, and her smile slowly faded away.

"Between these three things, a job is easier to find... I guess," she whispered before starting to read the classified ads in the newspapers.

XxX

A month later

I need to talk to you. It was the six words that Hermione had said to Harry at the phone before hanging up. She had said that she would be at his house in less than an hour, a glimmer of excitement in her voice.

Harry just had the time to take care of James, to give him a bath before giving him his feeding-bottle. It was almost eight in the evening, and he had just came back from the Burrow where he had left James for the afternoon. Molly had been–as usual–more than pleased to take care of her grandson, and Harry had taken advantage of these moments alone to go shopping. Being a single father was quite an exhausting job, and he realised that Ginny had lived this situation during more than a month and a half, contrary to him. Oh, of course, he had taken care of James during the first year of his life, but he had been with Ginny during all this time, and it was nothing compared to do all of it alone.

Fortunately, during his moments of solitude, when the darkness was slowly taking advantage over the daylight, Hermione was there; she was always there when he needed her. And it was normal for him to be there for her when she needed his presence. And right now, she seemed to be more than eager to talk to him.

James was in his crib since less than ten minutes when a little knock was heard at the entrance door. A second later, Hermione's smile was shining all around, and Harry noticed that she had a bottle of wine in her right hand.

"May I know why you're here?," Harry asked after kissing her on the cheek.

"It's not like I didn't come at your house several times a week during the last month," she laughed while Harry was closing the door after her. "Moreover, we've got something to celebrate."

"Really? What the good news could be?"

"Let's open this bottle of wine first, and I'll tell you," she retorted with a wink, visibly more than happy by what she was about to say to him.

It was enough for Harry to put a smile on his face too; Hermione's enthusiasm was always contagious, and this time was no exception.

Two full glasses of wine later, they were on the sofa, clinking their glasses.

"So?," Harry asked, running an impatient hand in his dark hair, revelling the scar that was still visible on his forehead.

"I've finally got a job!," Hermione shouted, and Harry was glad to know that the silencing charm was active when James was sleeping.

"It's not really a surprise, but congratulations," he retorted before taking her in his arms. "Is it at Flourish and Blotts like you told me last week?"

"Yes, it is. I will be a bookseller for at least a year, and then... then I guess that I'll be able to open my own shop," she explained before sipping her wine.

"It's great, really. I can totally see you selling a bunch of necessary books to a horde of Hogwarts' first year," Harry laughed.

"Well, I hope that I'll do more than reading a list and collecting the necessary books for them. I'm really eager to know more about how to run a bookstore, and it will be a good training."

"When will you begin?"

"Right after this weekend. So I guess that I'll have less time to come here and spend some time with you and James," she finished in a whisper, staring at Harry as if she was eager to see his reaction.

Harry pursed his lips, and after a few moment of hesitation, he nodded.

"That's fine. After all, you will not always be around."

"What do you mean?," Hermione asked, finishing her glass of wine.

"I mean that you are twenty-six, you are brilliant, well... You know what I mean," he swiftly said before filling Hermione's glass once again.

The latter raised a surprise eyebrow, and couldn't refrain a laugh.

"Mmh, well, I'm not sure to understand what you are trying to say right now, Harry. As far as I know, I don't have any disease, and I don't have any suicidal ideas running in my head..."

"It's not what I mean, and you perfectly know it," Harry cut her off with a smile. "I just want to say that soon, you'll find someone, a boyfriend, so I better get used to it."

Hermione stayed still, not really knowing what she could say to her best friend.

"But it's not a problem at all, don't worry," Harry quickly added when he realised that Hermione didn't know what to say back. "It's just that I was used to see you around, to spend time with you and James, that's all."

He tried to smile again, but soon realised that his smile was a fake one. He didn't even know why he was talking about this right now. To hide his discomfort, he finished his glass of wine and filled it once again. Knowing that it wasn't enough, and realising that Hermione didn't seem eager to talk anymore, he stood up, heading to the open kitchen.

"Well, do you want to eat something? It is quite late, and I don't think that you've got the time to dinner..."

"Harry–"

"What do you want to eat? I can make some spaghetti bolognese, or I can order Chinese food if you prefer?"

"Harry–"

"You know that I am not a bad cooker anymore," he continued, ignoring her attempts to talk to him. "So I guess that the spaghetti are fine."

Hermione nodded, not trying to say what she wanted to in the first place.

"Spaghetti are fine."

XxX

"What is your best memory from Hogwarts?," Harry asked, once they were casually installed on the sofa, after having dinner. They had opened their second bottle of wine, and Harry was almost drunk. He could feel it; this little dizziness, this constant smile that he had over his face, these stupid questions that he was asking her since quite a long time...

"My best memory?," Hermione repeated while straightening her back. "Mmh, I don't know, really. Maybe the Yule Ball?"

"With Krum?," Harry raised an eyebrow.

"Please, don't say his name like this," she laughed. "You know, it was one of the few times when I thought that I was beautiful, so yes, I guess that it is one of my best memories from Hogwarts," she finished in a whisper.

"Really?"

"Really," she repeated in a laugh. "And don't give me that look, Potter. I know that I am not a pure beauty, drop it."

Harry shook his head. "Don't depreciate yourself, Hermione. You're brilliant, yo–"

"Yes," she interrupted him, "I am brilliant. It's the first thing that people say when they meet me. Look, it's the second time of the evening that you are saying that I am brilliant to describe me, so...," she drawled with a sad smile, looking down at her glass of wine.

Unconsciously, she ran a hand into her mane of brown curls, a sign of her embarrassment. A minute passed, and Hermione wanted to leave Harry's house. But she wasn't sure that she could walk given all the alcohol that she had drunk during the evening; it was a habit that she had developed during her evenings with Harry, and she knew that she had to stop it soon.

Eventually, Harry put his glass of wine back on the coffee table and shook his head.

"You are brilliant, yes, you are. You are a brilliant witch, Hermione, and I can understand why it is the first thing that people see when they meet you: you are one of the most intelligent people that I know, and I have to say that I know a lot of brilliant people, no bragging here. It's not a bad thing to be clever, so don't think so little of you. But even if you are a brilliant witch, it doesn't mean that you're not beautiful, quite the contrary. No, listen," he quickly added when he saw that Hermione was about to retort something. He closed the gap between them and ran a hand into her curly hair. "Your hair is a part of you; it shows how untamed you are, how wild you are inside. It suits you well, Hermione, and I don't want you to think that it's something that a man wouldn't love. I can assure you that more than one man would fall for these curls. And your face...," he continued, his hand slowly caressing her jaw, "Hermione, you don't realise that you are beautiful. These chestnut eyes, these fleshy lips...," he finished in a whisper, his eyes focused on the aforementioned lips.

Hermione didn't know what to do. Harry was so close, so close... She couldn't think properly, and her hands were shaking so much that she had to focus not to drop her glass of wine on the sofa. Harry's hand was still on her face, and a second later, his lips entered in contact with her own. The first thing that she did was to close her eyes, while Harry's hand was moving to her hair, buried into her mane. When she felt his tongue asking for her permission to enter into her mouth, she slowly opened her lips, and let him take possession of her mouth. Their kiss was slow, like every drunken kiss, and Hermione realised through her dizziness that it was the first time in years that she kissed a man.

After a few moments, she put her hand onto Harry's one, and frowned when she felt something around one of his fingers. Despite that, she continued to kiss him with more fervour, but soon enough, something clicked into her mind: Harry was wearing his wedding ring.

She broke the kiss, her eyes full of horror.

"Oh my– I... I shouldn't have..."

Hermione wiped her mouth with the back of her hand, as if she wanted to erase what they did, and she didn't dare to look up at Harry.

"Hermione...," he muttered.

"We're drunk... I'm not supposed to be here, I need to..."

She didn't finish her sentence and got up, putting her glass of wine back onto the table in front of her.

"Please, don't freak out," Harry said, following her in the entrance corridor.

"It was a mistake," Hermione muttered before taking her bag. "I'm not Ginny, Harry."

"I know," he snapped. "I know. I just wanted to show y–"

"I need to go," she whispered before opening the door. "I'm sorry."

She didn't even kiss him on the cheek. She just left into the night, not even taking the time to put her jacket on. Harry stared at her until she Disappeared in a "Pop".

One thing was sure: he wouldn't have the opportunity to spend some time with Hermione before a long, long time.

I wrote this chapter long ago, but... I don't know, I wasn't sure about this story anymore. A guest pointed out that Harry is still married, and I get it, you know. That's what one of the reasons why I didn't want to publish this chapter - with this last scene - and why I struggled with it. No offense, I can understand that some of you are disappointed by the fact that something will develop between Harry and Hermione, but... I don't want him to "betray" Ginny. They'll have some opportunities to talk about their own relationship in this fanfiction.

Well, people always say here that we should write whatever we want to. So it is what I am going to do with this story. Thank you for your supportive reviews, it means a lot to me, really.

See you soon. :)

PS: when Hermione thinks that she is "jealous" of Ginny... She's just thinking about what she doesn't have, alright? She doesn't want to steal whatever Ginny has. Just saying. :D