His mouth moved against the hair on top of her head, softly repeating the two words she hated. His scent filled her nostrils, heady and overwhelming. His heartbeat thrummed beneath her fingertips, pulsing under his scar, across his skin, through his lips. His eyes gleamed emerald in the dark, reflecting the flashes of lightning. She tasted him on her lips, a slightly salty mix of sweat, rain water, and him.

Hermione jumped back, her hand flying up to cover her open mouth. Her wide eyes locked onto his as she froze in place. Neither of them moved for several silent moments, only the thunderous booms from the sky outside beating to pass the time told her she was still alive.

He shifted his weight, breaking the stillness that had settled. "Well…" Harry started, his hand already up, sifting through his hair, "that was certainly the best welcome home I've ever had."

She distantly heard his chuckle as she was suddenly stepping forward to stand in front of him. Her hand cautiously moved towards his face as if reaching for an animal that might run if spooked. Her fingers brushed against his hair, and she took a sharp intake of breath, stilling again for a moment.

"Are you real?" her voice a distant whisper to her ears.

When her hand resumed motion, her quiet voice seemed to have been drowned out by the drone of rain against the building outside. The skin of her fingers lightly ran across his face, from his scar down to his lips and brushed against his stubble. She dropped her arm but in an instant his hand surrounded hers, covering it, and moved to press her hand flat against his chest, right above his beating heart.

"Trust your body, Hermione. Do I feel real?"

Hermione could see his mouth moving, could hear his steady words, but it all seemed so detached. All that she could focus on was the rhythm of his heart, beating beneath her hand that was trapped against his chest. She let out a shaky breath she hadn't realised she had been holding.

"H-Harry?" she spoke unsteadily.

At that moment her body came undone, her legs shuddered and she unwillingly let her body drop. She didn't know how he moved but his arms were suddenly surrounding her; her body clutched against his in his lap on the floor. Just as suddenly as her body had lost its strength, it regained it, and she poured all of it into her arms encircling him, her hands grasping bunches of his shirt in a death grip.

Hermione seemed to have little control over her own body as Harry's hand soothed her hair. Words reached her ears as she realised that she was saying something, "Don't go," she repeated over and over, muffled from speaking into his shirt. She knew she was wetting his shirt with her tears but couldn't bring herself to push away from him to stop it. Time seemed to pass without reference, the only constants being the steady beating of his heart and the unending drum of rain from outside, interrupted occasionally by rolling thunder.

Harry's quiet grunt and a sense of weightlessness was all that told her he had stood up, though she felt the soft jolt of his steps as he moved with her still in his arms. Only when he set her down on her bed did she open her eyes, seeing only by the sliver of pale moonlight through her curtains. She couldn't seem to keep her mind focused for long, but when Harry made for her bedroom door, she jumped up with a ferocious light in her eyes, her words dying on her lips as she second guessed them.

"I know," he spoke without turning around, "I'll stay on the couch."

Hermione had crept up behind him, her sudden intensity already fading, "You'll–" she cleared her throat, "You'll be here in the morning?"

She hated how small her voice sounded, but she knew she needed an answer. His hand reached behind him and she didn't hesitate to grasp it in both of hers.

"Yes, I will," he sounded strained, "I hope you can trust me."

Harry pulled his hand away and stepped out, closing her door behind him. She didn't move from where she stood until the sounds of him moving in her living room faded and finally ended when he must have lied down. When she did climb back onto her bed, she found barely an ounce of tiredness in her body. Her hands clutched handfuls of her sheets and her eyes remained wide open while her mind lay strangely still, almost as if she dared not let herself drift away from the sole occupant of her current thoughts or he might disappear. Mind filled with thoughts of a green eyed man with a strikingly filled-out appearance.

A sudden feeling of falling jerked her back to the present and had her eyes darting back and forth for a minute before she felt herself start to fall again with drooping eyelids. When it happened for a third time, she sat up instead, coming to a decision in her head. Gathering the blanket at the foot of her bed, she tip-toed out into the living room to sit in her armchair.

When her gaze fell on Harry, lying on her couch with a peaceful expression on his face, she felt a knot in her stomach loosen and fall away. Sitting down quietly, Hermione wrapped herself in her blanket and, with her eyes fixed on Harry's dark form on her couch, let herself fall into a dreamless sleep.

…

With heavy limbs, Hermione stretched her body as straight as she could get it without falling out of the chair. The golden light of the morning sun crept in, highlighting the orange form of Crookshanks as he lay curled up on the couch. The couch that was supposed to be containing her best friend.

Hermione threw her blanket off and was about to yell out his name when the sounds of cooking behind her reached her ears. She turned to see Harry facing away from her, standing at her rarely used stove, using her barely touched kitchen equipment, and with a carton of eggs next to him on the counter that she certainly hadn't bought. Realisation of last night hit her like a punch to the gut and she dropped her head into her hands, pressing against her eyes in an attempt to quell the sudden headache that threatened to split her skull open.

"I was beginning to wonder if you'd ever wake, or if I'd have to get Ron to come over and kiss you to break the spell," Harry said, turning half-way around with a wry grin on his face. She couldn't glimpse his eyes but could see in the clench of his jaw and his stiff posture that he likely hadn't gotten as much sleep as she had.

"I think Luna might have something to say about that," Hermione mumbled out in a groan before standing up and shuffling off to the bathroom. She only heard his exclaimed shout after she had sufficiently woken herself up by splashing her face in the sink. Ignoring his confused call afterward, she finished up in the bathroom and stepped out, catching her eye on her bedside clock. It read 8:00am.

She was going to be late for work for the first time in her life.

In under 45 seconds, Hermione rushed out of her room nearly ready for work, with the majority of the time taken by manually brushing her teeth of course, and the spare couple of seconds lending to hasty transfiguration and summoning spells. While not as perfect as her non-transfigured attire normally was, it would have to do. Reaching the living room coffee table, she hastily gathered the scattered files from yesterday without thinking and stuffed them all unceremoniously into her bag. When she stood up to walk to the front door, Harry was suddenly there, blocking her way.

"I'm late for work," she clipped out.

"You already are, which means you have time to eat an egg," Harry countered, advancing on her and pushing her into a chair that had slid over from the table silently. Hermione's headache wasn't helping her need to think quickly and get around his logic, slowing her thoughts until the loud thunk of Harry setting down a plate in front of her made her blink.

"I don't eat breakfast Harry," she said, eyeing the jiggling yoke as her stomach rolled.

"Well you will this morning, I'm not letting you leave until you do," Harry spoke casually, like they hadn't just spent two years without seeing each other, but his eyes flickered with something she didn't recognise. Harry hadn't always been predictable, but very quickly into their friendship she had learned his mannerisms and tendencies. It was a side effect of being the quiet one, the observer. Seeing something unknown in the boy– the man, she corrected herself –that she had known for almost half of her life, well, it scared her.

The same fear of expulsion during her time at Hogwarts and muggle school before that, had turned into a fear of being fired from her job, and it overpowered any thoughts that didn't immediately have to do with getting to work. Nearly inhaling the fried egg that Harry had made, she stood up and, with bag in hand, rushed to the door. One thought mutinied against the rest and forced her to stop in the doorway. She knew Harry was right behind her even before she spun around so she didn't hesitate to raise her hand, placing her finger against his lips, effectively silencing him before he had a chance to speak.

"You had better still be here when I get back Harry James Potter," she said in a wonderful impersonation of Professor Mcgonagall's stern voice, enjoying how Harry's eyes widened. His hand darted up to twine his fingers in hers before squeezing her hand and fixing her on the spot with eyes like pits of viridian. A second later, she managed to wrench her gaze away and apparated with a snap.

…

Despite this being the first day that Hermione hadn't shown up on time for work as well as having to walk through a couple of departments in order to get to her office, nobody said a word to her. The same was not true for the eyes that followed her however. The hair on the back of her neck felt permanently up and prickled the entire morning. Andrew, her assistant, did his best to appear nonchalant about everything but she caught his unmasked stares too whenever he thought she wasn't looking.

All of the unwanted attention along with her thoughts constantly sidetracking her, it was hard to get anything done, and today was not a day to be caught off guard. The report that Andrew handed her almost as soon as she set her bag down in her office called for her full attention, informing her of multiple breaches in the Statute of Secrecy by the recently caught band of Death Eaters that would need to be addressed immediately.

The thoughts always hit her at the worst times, unwanted feelings breaking through her current line of focus making her productivity drop in a way that she had never let happen in the past two years. At one point, she had been giving an order to Andrew to pass down and delegate out when a head of messy black hair was just visible above the cubicle walls moving towards her. She had trailed off mid-sentence, and only when the man walked into view around a corner and she was able to see his thin face and black eyes was she able to blink and shake herself, continuing her sentence as if nothing had happened, completely missing the look of bewilderment on Andrew's face.

Another time, she had been writing up an order to the Head Auror to keep Macnair contained at the ministry for a few more days for questioning, when she mistakenly glanced at a framed moving picture of her and her two best friends. They had been dressed up for Bill and Fleur's wedding, a rare moment of happiness before the inevitable attack and the beginning of their horcrux hunt. She knew that what came after that event had been something she would never want to relive, but the wedding was one of her memories when she felt closer to Harry than she usually did, something about that day had given their looks and smiles a different energy. It was a nice picture too, Harry was out of his ratty clothes that his relatives gave him and in some nicer dress robes than the student ones at Hogwarts. She felt that she looked decent as well, and she could remember the uncomfortable heels and getting ready being completely worth it when Harry had whispered how beautiful she looked into her ear as the picture was taken. The evidence of his words was shown in how her smile became real, instead of being just for the camera, and how his breath had tickled her ear and caused her cheeks to change shades. It made her thoughts drift to a similar feeling that she recalled from last night, when his whispered apologies as she was curled up in his lap on the floor drifted his breath along her ears and made her involuntarily shiver.

It wasn't as if she didn't know why she reacted that way, in fact she was sure that if any man had whispered in her ear it might have a similar effect. Well, not any man she supposed, but the downside of breaking it off with Ron so long ago and having no romantic interaction afterwards, meant that she was rather sensitive to intimate gestures. That's what she told herself at least. And if she was honest, Harry and her had been quite intimate friends, it was just the nature of things when you practically lived together for almost a year on the run.

I mean, it's not like I haven't thought about Harry that way, she uttered in her head.

Immediately, she jumped up from her desk with her eyes wide. She didn't have time to question where that thought came from because, a moment later, a knock sounded on her office door causing her to reach for her wand before she recognised who stood in the open doorway.

"Hermione there you are, are you alright?" Andromeda said, walking over to her and pulling her into a hug, glancing at the framed photo on her desk that Hermione had been staring at. "I heard from Luna the other day that the Minister's Umgubular Slashkilter has escaped and been causing some ruckus around the offices, is that what's got you all jumpy?"

Hermione returned the hug and for a second, had to shake her mind of confusion at the other witch's presence before recalling that today was the day of their weekly lunches.

"Oh Andy, I'm sorry, lunch must have slipped me right by, I've had a terrible time concentrating today– and no, I don't have to tell you that the Minister does not have an Umgubular Slashkilter because they don't exist, whatever Luna tells you."

Andromeda pulled back with a smile, "Yes well I surmised as much when I sat at our usual table for ten minutes before I figured I should just come and drag you away myself."

Hermione covered her face, "Ugh, I've never been late for work and now this…" she moaned into her hands before letting Andromeda take one in hers.

"Late this morning too, hm? Well," Andromeda pulled Hermione along out of the office and towards the cafeteria, "it is rather unusual for you, which is why I lent some more credence to what Luna said. Contrary to what most people say about you, you are still human and susceptible to imaginary distractions every once in a while."

Not so imaginary anymore, Hermione thought wryly, recalling how tangible Harry's beating heart felt beneath her fingers, which caused her cheeks to flush slightly.

Lunch with Andromeda was nice as it always was, but Hermione was unfortunately still so distracted that she had to constantly pull herself back to reality when she realised that she hadn't answered a question or spoken one herself for an impolite amount of time. It wasn't as if she wanted to get back to work either, she just couldn't really talk about what was on her mind to anyone right now, well, anyone besides the object of her distraction in the first place.

She was finding it tougher and tougher to withhold the information that Harry was alive, let alone here in London and had slept in her flat. She had gotten closer with Andromeda ever since she had initially offered to take Hermione out to lunch as thanks for looking after Teddy and, after making it a weekly tradition almost a year ago, they had made fast friends. Hermione had been overjoyed to have an older witch that could mentor her and teach her about a lot of the wizarding traditions and laws that she inevitably had to face while working her way up in the Ministry. She had Andromeda to thank for a good amount of her success, enabling her to find loopholes in laws and rise to the head of her department, a feat that no Muggle-born in recent memory had achieved before her. All of this made sealing her mouth quite difficult when it came to the recent manifestation of her long-lost best friend. Andromeda was one of the only people in her life, besides Anna, that knew a decent amount of what she did on her Wednesdays and on the seemingly random international travels. Not that Hermione had told her everything, it had been much too painful to talk about Harry for any length of time, even Anna had a tough time pulling much more out of her than was strictly necessary for the search.

Oh Anna!

She felt herself stiffen slightly at the thought of her friend, feeling guilt creep over her that she hadn't thought about her sooner or given any thought to informing her of Harry's appearance.

"Alright Hermione, spill it."

Hermione was interrupted yet again from her distracted thoughts but didn't speak right away.

"I know you better than most and already most would say that you aren't yourself today," Andromeda was speaking with a firm but caring tone. "Now you don't need to tell me everything because I know how hard that can be for you, but at least tell me if this is about Harry or something else, please?"

The sincerity in her friend's voice brought a warmth to her chest and she reached out across the table to grasp the other witch's hand.

"I can't talk about it right now Andy and I'm sorry that my mind hasn't been fully here," she spoke softly, her voice holding strong for the most part despite the uncertainty that filled her. "It is about H-Harry. I had a… difficult night last night and I'm not in my right mind today."

Andromeda met her eyes and smiled sadly for several moments before responding.

"You have been through enough for a lifetime, Hermione. I imagine that it's hard to talk to anyone when you feel like they don't truly know what you've gone through, and I get the feeling that even Ron doesn't know everything that happened to you and Harry when he wasn't there."

Tears were starting to fill Hermione's eyes and she had to squeeze them shut to prevent them from falling down her face.

Andromeda continued, "I know you think you're on your own without him, but just know that you have people in your life that care about you, that want to help how they can and support you. You don't need to open up to everyone, but if you do need someone to just listen, I'll always be here."

Hermione had turned her head into her shoulder while Andromeda was talking, and when she heard her finish, drew a shaky breath into her lungs and let out a hoarse laugh. "Yeah and we wouldn't need to worry about Teddy overhearing anything."

Andromeda chuckled but smiled again when she met Hermione's eyes, "Oh my dear, that boy understands far too much already. He mentions Harry almost as much as you now. I imagine that Teddy may be your only true outlet for talking about these things."

Hermione had to shake her head ruefully at the knowing glint in the other witch's eyes.

The lunch didn't last long after their heart-to-heart and Hermione wished that it could last longer after realising she still had half of her day to slog through. Unfortunately for her and many of those working in her department, it was also half of a day that she spent getting more and more frustrated. Her anger had been well known at Hogwarts, which only meant that now as the head of a department, her anger was nigh legendary.

It had started with a lovely welcome back from her lunch from Andrew informing her that the Head Auror had denied her order to hold all of the Death Eaters in interrogation at the Ministry and had already begun transporting them as their judgements were passed, some to Azkaban and some on house arrest. She had stormed down just in time to let her fury loose on the poor Auror that was just about to trigger the Portkey on the last few prisoners, including Macnair, going to Azkaban. After successfully making the Auror's see her way, a one-sided argument that it was, she had informed Andrew that she wanted to be left alone for the rest of the day to work on reviewing reports, something that normally was a calming responsibility, reminding her much of proofing Harry and Ron's school papers in Hogwarts. Today, however, it wasn't helping her sudden afternoon annoyance.

She had been about to sit down at her desk with a stack of reports in her hand when her eyes caught that damned moving picture on her desk again, only this time, it snapped something inside of her. She had paced the width of her office six times before her thoughts materialised enough for her to track them properly. She was furious with Harry. Furious that he had just shown up at her flat like nothing was the matter, like they had seen each other the day before. She was furious at herself for not being more angry at him, that she hadn't even had an inkling of indignation for him, that it had taken her this long and far into the day to feel this way. She couldn't count the number of times she had paced the width of her office anymore once it reached triple digits. At one point she had stopped suddenly, her desire to logically follow her emotions through breaking into her mind. She hated how analytical she had to be, even with herself, when she just wanted to let herself feel right now, and she knew she was justified in it as well. However, she let her brain lead her through the motions discerning the roots and attempting to surface them for her to dissect. This aspect of herself had often been a point of pride for her, that she was able to maintain a cover of control because she could logically force her emotions away, solving them in a sense. It didn't always work, especially when something targeted her specific insecurities, but it often did and helped her sustain a healthy mind state. Now however, as much as she tried to steer her mind towards just being angry because she felt justified and righteous in it, her emotions kept getting stuck on one thought; that she was using her anger to cover her confusion.

Hermione couldn't stand these swirling emotions anymore, trapped within her office and unable to deal with any of them. She knew it was time, time to face the music and get the answers she needed. She grabbed her bag, leaving her desk a mess, and left for the atrium.

It was time to talk with Harry.