A Realization by dream_boat

Rating: R
Genres: Romance, Humor
Relationships: Harry & Hermione
Book: Harry & Hermione, Books 1 - 5
Published: 25/02/2005
Last Updated: 25/02/2005
Status: Completed

Hermione sat in the common room bent low over a badly dog-eared copy of Standard Book of Spells,
Grade 7. However consuming the book was, she could not concentrate. She kept thinking about the
kiss she had shared with her best friend the night before. Since fleeing to her dormitory
immediately after, she had completely avoided both Harry and Ron all of the following day...




1. A Kiss
---------



Hermione sat in the common room bent low over a badly dog-eared copy of *Standard Book of
Spells, Grade 7*. However consuming the book was, she could not concentrate. She kept thinking
about the kiss she had shared with her best friend the night before. Since fleeing to her dormitory
immediately after, she had completely avoided both Harry and Ron all of the following day.

*What was he thinking? He can't possibly have meant…no, he wouldn't think of me like
that.*

Just then the portrait hole opened and in walked Ron, closely followed by Harry. With a small
gasp, her eyes darted towards the dark corner where they had emerged, and then quickly back down to
her book again. As she feigned scanning the same page she had been scanning for the past half-hour,
she began to chew her lower lip.

The noise level in the common room - that normally would have aggravated Hermione - now soothed
her. For once she was glad that the room was packed with students. Harry and Ron obviously
hadn't seen her sitting on the plump couch in front of the fireplace, because they sat at one
of the smaller tables and were soon engrossed in a brutal game of Wizard's Chess.

Her eyes zoomed toward them again, checking to see if they had noticed her. When she saw that
they hadn't, she clambered off of the couch and zoomed up the stairs towards her dormitory.

-(-(-

The next morning, Hermione had made up her mind that she could no longer avoid her two best
friends without raising suspicion. She dressed quickly and rocketed down the stairs and out the
portrait hole to make sure she was the first one of the Trio to be in the Great Hall for breakfast.
She settled in a spot on a bench all by herself, making sure there was plenty of room on either
side of her. She wanted to see if *he* would choose to sit next to her, or across the table
from her. Thinking about it, she decided that either choice could mean certain death for her.

If he sat across from her, they would most definitely exchange awkward glances throughout the
meal. And if he sat next to her, she was certain that they would be forced to make physical
contact; whether it be bumping elbows or touching shoulders.

She scrambled to pile food onto her plate. *What's wrong with me, I never eat this
much!* She continued, however, and began shoveling the food into her mouth at a pace that would
likely put her in danger of gagging herself to death.

Then, suddenly, Harry and Ron were both sitting down next to her. She gave a small jump, but
pretended not to notice them.

“What's wrong with you, Mione?” Harry inquired, brows furrowed in much the same way that
hers often did when asking the very same question of him.

“Mmphust ee mmagn” she tried to force out through the mouthful of food.

*This was horrible! She looked like a pig for Merlin's sake!*

She jumped from her seat between them, trying to mumble something about the library. She turned
away and zoomed swiftly from the Great Hall, leaving them sitting with startled looks on their
faces.

-(-(-

“Hermione, what's wrong,” she heard a voice whisper behind her, as she felt a strong hand
tighten over her shoulder.

She jumped slightly, but composed herself quickly and turned to face him.

“Nothing. Why?” *That sounded so rehearsed!*

“Well let's see, we didn't see you all day yesterday, and today you run out of the Hall
after shoveling your face full of food…hmmm? And now I find you out here by the lake. It's
freezing; you should be wearing a sweater.”

“I…I-I” What's *wrong with me? Suddenly I've lost the ability to speak
coherently?*

“C'mon Mione, I can tell you're lying to me. I'm getting much better at Occlumency,
you know…”

“Oh Harry, I just can't! It would be so unbelievably embarrassing! Please don't make me
tell you,” she exclaimed, flinging her arms around his neck and burying her face into his
chest.

“Whoa, whoa, just calm down. There's no reason to freak out. Of course you don't have to
tell me.”

*He smells so good. I wonder if he knows how good he smells.*

“Harry, could you just…sit with me out here for a while? I mean maybe I'll get up the
courage to tell you…” she ended abruptly.

“Sure,” he said calmly, as they sat down side by side beneath the huge beech tree. They sat
quietly for a few moments, just staring out at the lake. Gently, he slipped his hand into hers and
intertwined his fingers amongst hers. She shifted herself and dropped her head onto his shoulder,
sighing deeply.

-->



2. A Confession
---------------



That evening she studied in the library. She much preferred its quiet to the noise of the common
room, which would most likely be consumed by parties until the end of the year. Since Harry had
defeated Voldemort some three weeks back, there had been a constant uproar of noise in almost every
classroom, hall, common room and even toilet. It's not that Hermione wasn't overwhelmed
with happiness over Harry's success, she had done her bit a partying too, she just had become
engrossed by recently discovered emotions.

She knew she had always loved Harry. But she had never thought about it as more than a friendly,
brotherly love. As of late she had begun to feel much more deeply for him. Seeing him unconscious
for all of those days in the Hospital Wing after the Defeat had almost sickened her with sorrow.
She had realized that her feelings for him might be more than…well, a friend should feel.

After Ron had kissed her the other night, she had been utterly confused. Not to mention a bit
shocked. Sure, they had dated somewhat in their third year. If you call a few secret kisses dating.
All those weekends in Hogsmeade without Harry, just the two of them, it had just seemed natural at
the time. Of course, they had only been thirteen. No thirteen-year-old had ever had a meaningful
and long-lasting relationship that she knew of.

Neither she nor Ron had ever mentioned anything to Harry. They decided that their shared kisses
felt more like uncomfortable moments between a brother and a sister. And that had been the end of
it. Of course, Ron had definitely had his jealous moments their next year at Hogwarts when she had
gone to the Yule ball with Viktor Krum. She hadn't really thought much of it until two nights
ago when he had cornered her in an alcove in one of the hallways on one of her usual rounds as Head
Girl. It had been much more than the chaste kisses they had shared during their third year. They
were now no longer thirteen, but a much more grown up seventeen. She had pulled away quickly and
grabbed her mouth as her eyes widened in alarm. She wriggled from his grasp and dashed towards
Gryffindor Tower and upwards toward her dorm.

“Thought I might find you in here,” came a familiar deep voice, bringing her back to the
present. This time she could not conceal her jump of surprise, causing him to chuckle at her
edginess.

“You keep creeping up on me like that! What do you expect?” she said with a lighthearted swat to
his arm. He stood behind her as she sat at one of the long tables in the library, craning her neck
around to look at him. He grinned down and her and bent over to place a small kiss on her forehead.
Her face went slack and she momentarily forgot who she was.

*He smelled like ozone…the sky during a lightning storm. Mixed with soap and grass.*

Blinking furiously, she regained her composure and grinned up at him. “I don't suppose
you've come here to study for the N.E.W.T.s?”

“No. Actually, I came in here just to find you.”

“That's sweet, but I would have preferred the studying.”

“You'd think they'd let The-Boy-Who-Defeated-The-Dark-Lord-Again skip those things,
huh?”

“Well, it's a wonderful thought, yes, but you and I both know it won't happen.”

“Quite the optimist lately, aren't you?”

“Sorry, Harry. I know you must think I'm horrible for being in here with my nose in a book
instead of celebrating for you…”

“No, I completely understand,” he said as he began to rub her shoulders. She tried not to let a
groan escape her lips. “I've been trying to avoid the parties myself. Where were you last
night? I didn't see you in the common room.”

“Oh…I wasn't feeling well. I went to bed early.”

“You've been acting strange the past few days,” he whispered as he slid into the seat beside
her. She remained defiantly quiet and returned her focus to her studies. He reached out and pushed
a strand of hair behind her ear. A shiver went down her spine and she tried to disguise her
pleasure.

“It's nothing, Harry. It's silly really.”

“Something happened with Ron, didn't it,” he said, not so much as a question as a statement.
She gasped and turned her face, wide eyed, toward him.

“…Harry!”

“You couldn't possibly think you're the only one acting strange. And I can tell you that
whatever it is that happened he seems to feel absolutely awful about it.” She remained quiet, but
averted her eyes from his. She could feel those jade orbs piercing straight into her mind and began
chewing her lower lip. She could sense him straighten up beside her as if giving himself courage to
ask his next question. “He kissed you didn't he?” he asked in a seemingly calm voice.

*Merlin! If only he knew what he was doing to me! How much I wished it were HIM who had kissed
me!*

Her silence answered the question for him. She tried to remain focused on staring at the quill
gripped tightly in her hand. He reached out and touched her chin with his fingertips, turning her
to face him.

“Mione, it's okay. It's nothing to be upset about.”

“Of course it is Harry! Now everything is just…well, awkward! I can't even bring myself to
look at him! How am I supposed to go on being his best friend when I can't even look at him,
Harry? I don't feel that way about him!”

“Hermione, you're overreacting, as always. It's no big deal. Really.”

“How can you say that? I feel so embarrassed.”

“Don't be,” he said quietly, wrapping his arms around her shoulders. She began to cry softly
into his shoulder whispering, “I just want to make sure this doesn't ruin my friendship with
him….”

-(-(-

That night things seemed much better. Harry had taken her back to the common room where she and
Ron quietly agreed to ignore The Kiss. Her uneasiness was made all the more comfortable by the
bottle of butterbeer that Harry had forced into her hand. She sipped it slowly, watching everybody
in the room enjoy themselves as she sat quietly on the squishy sofa.

After a while, Harry fought his way back through the crowd towards her, placing another
butterbeer beside her on the couch.

“Alright then, Hermione?”

“Feeling a little better, yeah, now that I've talked to Ron. Thanks for that,” she said,
smiling at him.

They sat there for quite some time. Talking a little, but mostly just listening to the sounds of
laughter in the room around them. The happiness was infectious. However, soon the noise began to
die down and Harry and Hermione were left sitting alone in the messy common room.

“…Harry, were you scared…you know, *then*…”

“Hmmm? Yeah, sure,” he said knowing exactly what she had meant by *then*. “But I got
through it thinking about my friends. You know, I'm definitely sure that's what got me
through,” he said quietly.

“What do you mean?”

“Well, I'm not quite sure. I've talked with Dumbledore about it a few times. It's
pretty much brought us both to the same conclusion…” he ended.

“And…w-what's that?”

“Love.”

“Oh.” She sat, afraid to look at him and instead took another sip of her butterbeer. Then, after
much silence and chewing of her lower lip, she understood; *a power the Dark Lord knows not.*
“Harry, I think I should tell you…Well, I don't know just how to say it.”

“I find it much easier to just blurt it out, before I read your mind.” She chuckled nervously
and took another long swig of butterbeer. “Geez Hermione, it can't be that bad!”

“Oh no…it's just, I'm afraid you'll think of it the wrong way. Well, you
know…well…Ron and I…we sort of used to…well, kiss regularly.” After a brief moment of awkward
silence, in which the only sound was Hermione sipping more from her bottle while her eyes strained
sideways to see his reaction, Harry spoke; “You mean, like he was your boyfriend?” he asked,
looking directly at her.

“Well, I wouldn't use that word exactly. But something *like* it. Are you upset?”

“Well, no, not really. Just surprised. Hermione Granger had her first kiss before me?” This
caused them both to let out nervous laughs and then fall back into a more comfortable silence.

Hermione felt him shift his weight so that he was slightly closer to her. “Why did you tell
me?”

“I just thought you should know, I guess,” she said leaning forward and placing her empty bottle
on the floor. She let out a sigh and propped her elbows on her knees and rested her chin in her
palms.

“Oh,” was all he said before he started stroking the bit of skin showing above the butt of her
jeans where her shirt had ridden up from bending forward. Instead of jumping she closed her eyes
and let out something between a sigh and a moan. He let his hand wander up her back and began
making slow circles around her shoulder blades.

“I should be the one rubbing *your* back. Considering you've recently lived through a
duel with the most powerful dark wizard every known…” she muttered half-heartedly. He let out a
throaty chortle and grabbed her shoulder and pulled her onto his chest where he held her until they
fell asleep to the sounds of the crackling fire.

-->



3. A Trip
---------



Hermione woke the next morning on the bed in her dormitory with a quilt pulled up around her
shoulders. She brushed a few curls from her face and looked around the room, reaching around
briefly to scratch Crookshanks.

*How did I get up here? The last thing I remember is talking with Harry in the common room.
Surely he couldn't have brought me up here? The stairs wouldn't have let him.*

*Mmmmm such wonderful dreams of Harry.*

She still felt the after effects of the dream on her panties. She was getting more and more used
to these kinds of dreams. When they had started she was terribly mortified that someone would find
out.

She shrugged off the quilt and stood up stretching, she began rummaging for some fresh clothes
before heading off to the bathrooms.

After her shower she headed off for the Great Hall. She wasn't exactly sure how late it was.
Luckily, it was Saturday so the only thing she'd missed out on so far was a good early morning
study session alone in her room.

To her surprise, the Great Hall was practically empty! *Where is everyone? Do they all know
something that I don't?* Then it hit her; *Quidditch!* *How could she have forgotten!
The last match of the season and the first one that Harry had actually gotten to play in all
year!*

Grabbing some bits of toast on her way through, Hermione rushed across the Great Hall, into the
Entrance Hall and through the front doors out into the surprisingly dark June afternoon. By the
time she reached the Quidditch pitch she was nursing a stitch in her side. She made it all the way
up to sit amongst her fellow Gryffindors and munch quickly on her rumpled toast in time to glimpse
Harry shooting over their heads. Suddenly she dropped the toast to her feet…

*I swear he winked at me!*

An instant later Harry's fingers had wrapped around the snitch. “*Gryffindor wins*!”
came Lee Jordan's voice from somewhere in the back of Hermione's mind, though he had left
Hogwarts two years earlier. *Harry wins*, chimed in her heart.

Later she found herself sitting yet again under the beech tree beside the lake. She clasped her
arms around her knees as she watched Harry skip rocks across the tranquil surface. He was still
wearing his Quidditch robes and she couldn't bring herself to tear her eyes away from him as he
spoke animatedly to her about the game.

“…don't you think so? Hermione?”

“Of course…mmm hmm,” she squeaked as she refocused her eyes, shaking her head slightly.

“You alright? You haven't heard a word I've said have you?” he said with a crooked
grin.

“Sure I have,” she said defiantly. He raised his eyebrows, continuing to smile mischievously.
“Well, maybe…not *all* of it,” she whispered with a blush. He abruptly rushed at her and
pushed her onto her back, falling onto her and tickling her with all of his might. She wriggled
with laughter and tried her best to squirm her way from underneath him. This only made him tickle
her more enthusiastically until tears streamed from her eyes and she didn't think she'd be
able to breathe anymore…

He rolled off of her, shaking with laughter and she lay spent on the grass beside to him gasping
for air.

“…N-not…funny…Harry!” she breathed. Laughing harder, he rolled toward her and placed his fingers
on the side of her face, pushing a few escaped tendrils of hair from her forehead. Gradually, the
laugher subsided. He lay beside her with his elbow propped up, resting his face in his hand. The
way he was looking at her made butterflies begin to dance around her stomach. His hand slid from
her hair and cupped her cheek gently, “You really are beautiful, you know…”

Before Hermione could blurt out some self-effacing retort, Harry leaned forward and lightly
captured her lips with his. It was nothing fiery, just a small chaste kiss that lingered a bit
longer than most they had shared as friends. Before either of them could amplify it into something
deeper, a voice rang out at them.

“Oy, Harry, Hermione, where have you two been?” floated Ron's voice from near the front
doors. They quickly shifted away from each other. Harry sat up abruptly and Hermione nervously
tucked a strand of wild hair behind her ear, swallowing a lump in her throat.

“What's up, Ron?”

“When are you gonna come and celebrate the House Cup with us, mate? Harry? Hermione?” he paused
looking closely over the two of them, “something wrong?”

“Of course not Ronald,” Hermione offered a little too harshly. She stood up swiftly and began
making her way towards the castle. Ron shrugged at Harry behind her. She could have sworn she heard
him mutter something that sounded a lot like “mental” in Harry's direction.

-(-(-

Over the next couple of days, Harry and Hermione exchanged several self-conscious glances at on
another. In fact, Hermione could feel her face grow hot every time Harry was around. But neither
mentioned the kiss by the lake. Hermione could not determine if this was a good thing or not. Was
Harry simply too shy to bring it up with her, or did he feel absolutely mortified that he had
kissed her; Hermione? At one point they were once again alone in the common room and Harry still
hadn't found the guts to explain himself to her. Instead, he had mumbled something about a
headache and raced up the stairs toward his room

This left Hermione feeling completely hopeless. She had been right all along; Harry would never
think of her as anything more than a friend. She knew she wasn't exactly pretty. “*You really
are beautiful, you know...”* What had he been playing at? And they way his eyes had penetrated
into her very soul as he had spoken these words were still enough to send warms tingles down her
spine. Today, she decided, was the day she took matters into her own hands. If Harry wouldn't
bring it up, then *she* would. Perhaps she'd corner him before Potions, or after Care of
Magical Creatures. Maybe it would be best if she just waited until later that evening when they
could be alone in the Common Room…

“Hermione, wait up!”

“Oh hey, Ron.”

“Wow, somebody's moody. Walk with me to transfiguration?”

“Sure.”

Hermione could hardly contain her ability to focus on McGonagall's lecture. Harry had taken
a seat directly in front of her (since he had lately abandoned his usual spot *beside* her)
and she found herself staring at the back of his head all lesson. She had worn her hair up today
and now was incessantly twirling bits of her ponytail around her fingers. She found herself
daydreaming…

*Harry had backed her up against McGonagall's desk, she could feel it against her butt as
he leaned seductively towards her. “You really are beautiful…” he was saying as he leaned towards
her, drawing her to him and placing a deep passionate kiss against her lips…*

She was brought from her reverie - blinking back a building blush - by a student rushing through
the door and handing McGonagall a letter, “From the Headmaster, Professor.” McGonagall's eyes
swept across the note, adjusted the glasses on her nose, cleared her throat, and looked up at the
class.

“The Headmaster has requested my presence in his office immediately. Class dismissed.” She swept
past the students and, as an afterthought, turned her head back at them saying, “Miss Granger, if
you'll kindly collect last week's homework and place it on my desk.” And with that, she was
gone.

Hermione rose slowly from her seat and began to gather the homework from the now empty desks.
She shuffled the papers together in her hands and strode front of the classroom. As fate would have
it, one of her fellow classmates had forgotten a satchel of some kind and had left it sitting on
the floor beside their desk before exiting. In her haste to leave the classroom and catch up with
Harry, the toe of her boot caught on the misplaced bag. Papers flew far and wide as she sailed
downwards on a crash course towards the floor. With a dull *thud* her body collided with the
hard wood, shooting pain through her elbows as she flailed wildly to grasp a desk.

“Merlin! Are you alright Mione?” came Harry's voice as he rushed towards her.

“Uhhh…” was all that managed to escape her lips before Harry helped lift her to her feet,
sitting her down at a nearby desk. As she sat rubbing her hip, he collected the papers from the
floor.

Coming fully to her senses, Hermione leapt from her chair, tearing the papers from Harry's
grip. “I'm fine, really. I can do that,” she said, a bit more harshly than she had meant. She
plucked the few remaining sheets of parchment from the floor and continued towards the front desk.
She couldn't help but be furious with Harry for his lack of communication lately, but at the
same time couldn't help being mortified that he had seen her trip. *I can't believe he
saw that whole thing! Hermione, you idiot!*

“What are you still doing here, anyway? Haven't you got somewhere better to be?” she
snorted, placing the papers atop the desk and not daring to look back at him. Suddenly he was
standing right behind her.

“I thought I'd wait for you,” he murmured. She could feel the warmth of his breath on her
exposed neck and trembled slightly. Blushing, she remembered her daydream from minutes before. “I
thought maybe we could talk.”

Still not looking at him, she continued to mix up the papers in front of her, “Whatever about
Harry?”

“Listen,” he said, clutching her shoulder and turning her to face him, “I've had Dobby pack
us a picnic, I thought maybe you'd like to accompany me outside for lunch. You know, just the
two of us.”

She blinked at him, confusion evident in her eyes, and then a broad smile crossed her face. “Of
course, Harry. I'd like that.”

-->



4. A Picnic
-----------



After catching Dobby near the Entrance Hall, where they collected their picnic basket, they
continued out the front doors and strode off across the grass. Hermione, who had been certain they
were heading to the lake, was surprised when Harry steered them in the direction of the Forbidden
Forest.

“Are you sure about this Harry? The forest? Is that really a place we want to be eating?”

“Are you a Gryffindor or not?” His eyes twinkled.

“Of course, but I'm also Head Girl, Harry. I'm supposed to set a good example.”

“Loosen up, Hermione. Besides, I have something I want to show you.”

And so they continued on in silence. The day was bright and sunny. She was glad that the weather
was back to normal after the past few cold and cloudy days they had seen. It was, after all, the
beginning of summer. Hermione just wouldn't have felt right graduating under stormy skies.
Shifting the picnic basket to his other side, Harry took hold of her fingers with his free hand.
“You're thinking about graduation, aren't you?”

Slightly surprised, she decided to be truthful. Harry had seemed to develop new, stronger powers
since the Defeat. While Hermione hadn't considered this a bad thing, she now felt invaded by
his new attempts at mind reading. “Yes.”

“Don't worry. It'll be soon enough. N.E.W.T.s will be over next week and it'll be
smooth sailing after that. We both know there's no way you could do badly on them.” They had
entered into the trees now, and Harry's fingers remained entwined with hers. She didn't
know why this made her feel so light-headed. She had held Harry's hand several times before
this. But perhaps because this was the first time they had done it when not in a life threatening
situation, Hermione allowed herself to think more of it.

They traveled deeper into the forest and Hermione was beginning to become concerned about
whether Harry could find their way back out again. Just when she was about to suggest turning back
and heading for the calm shore of the lake, they stepped into a small clearing. The sun shone down
onto the little patch of grass and Hermione could see several butterflies flickering just over the
earth.

“Oh Harry, it's beautiful!” she exclaimed, positively glowing with delight.

“I knew you'd like it,” he said, studying her eyes as they roamed the little meadow. “Hagrid
showed it to me last year. I thought it might come in handy some day.” They walked forward into the
clearing and began to spread the blanket over the lush grass. They chatted as they ate. Small
things. How much they would both miss Hogwarts. What their plans were beyond school. Hermione had
already been offered jobs at the Ministry, The Daily Prophet and not to mention her share of
teaching positions. Harry had also been offered a job within the Ministry and countless Quidditch
bids. Neither of them could decide what to do next. As of late, Hermione had been toying with the
idea of studying to become a Healer, which Harry had assured her thousands of times she would excel
at.

After the sandwiches had disappeared, they lay watching the birds twitter amongst the trees.
Then, a serious expression crossing his face, Harry turned towards her. Looking at him, she
couldn't help but noticed some of the small scars he had acquired during the Defeat. They were
small, really, but hurt her to look at all the same. Thinking of what Harry had gone through that
night, alone, still kept her up at night. Often, she quietly cried herself to sleep. It made her
ache that Harry could not confide in her. She had always thought that he could tell her anything.
But lately…

“Listen, Hermione…”

“What is it Harry?” Hermione asked, giving him a concerned look to match his serious one.

“Well, I brought you here to talk to you. You know, about things…”

*Things? Honestly! She could kill those Dursleys for the emotional constipation they had
created in her Harry!*

He took her hand in his as they both sat up. He turned toward her and they sat cross-legged,
knee to knee, and he looked directly into her eyes. Then he let out a deep sigh, frowning slightly,
and gripped both of her hands tighter.

“W-When I fought Voldemort before; it always seemed to be out of anger.” She could tell he was
struggling which could only mean on thing; this was *it*, Harry was going to let it all out.
She nodded to let him know that it was alright to continue. She knew that if she interrupted him
now; he'd probably never get it out. “I wanted to avenge my parents or Sirius, or anybody else
he'd turned his wand on. After fifth year, when I found out about the prophecy, I felt dead
already. I acted dead. I kept replaying it in my head `neither can live while the other
survives.' I just knew I was going to die.

“All of sixth year, I just seemed to float around, as if I didn't really exist. I detached
myself from everyone. You, Ron, everyone. I had given up on myself early on. We spent that summer
after sixth year with the Weasley's. I gave up…” he trailed off. She could tell he was trying
to muster all the strength he had to go on. She squeezed his hand affectionately. He closed his
eyes and let out a sigh, then brought them back to her, looking into her eyes again. “You walked in
on me as I leaned up against the bathtub with that razor blade in my hand. You weren't angry.
You didn't start shouting. This look just crossed your face and you came in and closed the
door. You walked right over to me and sat down facing me on my lap. I just remember clinging to you
and sobbing.

“I don't think I'll forget that moment for as long as I live Hermione. The day you saved
me from myself.

“So this year, I redoubled my efforts. For you. I had wasted enough time the year before feeling
sorry for myself. Every training session, I thought of you. I still didn't think more of our
relationship. I knew we loved each other, but I still had it in my head that it was a
brother-sister love.” He smiled and ran a hand through her curls, shooting sparks through her
body.

“Then the night I got word that I would be leaving the next morning…you asked me to stay with
you.” He paused to relax his hand atop Hermione's again. “I remember waking up in your dorm. I
spooned up against you on your bed, and you were snuggled down in the blankets. I could smell your
hair, it smelled like peaches. Both of your hands were clutched around the arm I had draped over
your side. I don't know how long I lay atop the blankets listening to you breathe…five minutes,
an hour maybe? Then I left you.

“Hermione, that night…I-I didn't defeat Voldemort with my training or any vast knowledge of
spells,” he whispered, “I defeated him because of *you*. When I left your room that night, I
had a new reason to stop him. It had nothing to do with vengeance or death…it was about life. It
was…I wanted…well, a *life* with *you*.” He smiled. Hermione couldn't help but feel
hot around her ears and felt tears streaming down her face.

“This whole time the answer had been right in front of me; `a power the Dark Lord knows
not.' Love. You.

“I love you, Hermione.”

-->



5. A Question
-------------



Before she could answer, or even get her wits about her, Harry leaned forward and placed a
gentle kiss on her lips. She closed her eyes and pressed her lips back into his, losing herself in
the warmth spreading throughout her body. Everything around them began to vanish and suddenly her
mind was swimming in a haze. Hermione slid her tongue over Harry's lips and they parted. She
had been waiting for this much longer than he had, and hastily darted her tongue into his mouth.
She felt him sigh as their tongues mingled within him. The kiss deepened even further and she felt
Harry place his hands on either side of her face, drawing her towards him. Her own hands clutched
the front of his t-shirt.

They broke apart, gasping for air.

“…Harry…” she looked deeply into his eyes, “I love you too…” He crushed his lips against hers,
pushing her onto her back. The feeling of his weight on her was delectable. She could feel his
arousal against her thigh and moaned against his lips. They kissed in long, fiery waves.
Hermione's hands roamed over Harry's back as his lips dipped from her lips to her chin and
then wandered lower to her throat.

*Finally!* Her heart was screaming.

Harry suddenly stopped and Hermione let out a moan of disappointment. He cupped her cheek with
his hand and watched her intently with his deep green eyes.

“What is it, Harry?”

“Marry me?” Her breath caught in her throat and she had to force her tears back. She reached out
and tenderly slid her thumb over his lips.

“Of course.”

Harry practically leapt on her, pinning her to the ground with sweet kisses. His lips were soft
against her, but earnest. She returned his kisses with a deep and long overdue passion. She
suddenly felt Harry's hand on the clasp of her cloak.

*Is he…?*Hermione gasped. Harry pulled his mouth from hers and looked into her eyes.

“Do you want me to stop?” The look in his eyes told Hermione everything she needed to know. She
answered him with another kiss. Suddenly all of those awkward nerves she once had about this moment
were erased. She felt his hand trembling over her thigh and up her skirt to cup her buttocks. All
of the sudden everything was funny. Hermione couldn't suppress her giggles as she felt his
teeth nibble at her earlobe

Every fear she ever had about what to do in this situation vanished. It was Harry. None of it
mattered any more. She felt him lifting her Muggle top over her head and raised her arms to oblige.
She felt the most exquisite sensations as Harry's lips found hers again and then traveled lower
to her jaw line, and farther still to her collar bone. Bolts of electricity shot through her body
as she became aware of Harry's hand wandering between her thighs. She gripped a handful of
Harry's dark hair and let a moan escape her lips as she felt him touch her through the thin
material of her panties.

This was going to be much better than she had previously assumed…

This was going to be much better than studying…

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