Harry Potter stood quietly still on the cobblestone steps of Diagon Alley, his eyes studying the couple

inside the restaurant he was

supposed to enter. He hadn't been late; not really. He had arrived exactly when they had told him he should. But just as he was
about to walk in, he had caught a glimpse of them through the window; the image of which invoked something unpleasant in him.

She looks happy, he thought suddenly, almost as if he had never quite realised it before. They looked happy.

Ron and Hermione were laughing about something, their grins wide and their eyes sparkling with humour. It was just one of those
moments when he realised once again that he was the odd man out. Ever since the Final Battle a year ago, things had changed
considerably for them. Actually, it was ever since Hermione had flung herself at Ron; the thought of which still made his gut clench in
knots whenever his mind focused on that one memory. At that time, they had a higher purpose. He didn't really focus on the tangle of
feelings deep inside his chest at the image of seeing his best mates snogging right in front of him. Later, when everything was over
and he saw Hermione look up at Ron with a secret smile that he had never really seen before... that was when he felt that same
feeling again. The rumble within him that was similar to how he had felt when he had seen Ginny snog Dean, though it was different
in so many ways. The gnarling animal inside his chest felt possessive of his best friend who had stuck with him through everything,
her encouraging smile and brilliant brain being the one thing that had helped keep his sanity through the Horcrux hunt. To see that
look in her eyes for someone else...

It had been an epiphany, one that had nearly ruined him. He had worked hard on trying to shake that feeling off while doing
everything that was expected of him. He had dated Ginny, joined the Auror programme, and went to the Burrow every Sunday for
brunch. But at some point, he couldn't do it anymore. He got tired of his role and, as a result, sloppy with his life. He had become
careless, uncommunicative and absent. Truth be told, he hadn't seen the pair of them for nearly two months, the longest period of
time without any news since the summer before sixth year. He had to admit that it wasn't their fault. They had tried time and again to
draw him out of the secluded position he had placed himself in and he had blatantly refused, blaming it on non-existent excuses. But
like any good liar, he needed to know when to quit. Which is how he found himself finally agreeing to dinner with the two people he
still considered his best mates, even if the very thought of being in the same room with them felt like a physical blow.

Harry continued to eye the couple through the window, willing his feet to either walk in or walk away. He had always been too
indecisive for his own good and this was no exception. He even cursed himself for not having the ability to make up his mind. He kept
watching through the window as a waiter approached them. Ron immediately took the menu while Hermione pulled it out of his
hands and gave it back to the confused waiter. With a slight bow, he left, leaving Ron scowling and Hermione chastising him for his
impatience. But it was the simple movement of her looking at the wrist watch on her arm, her features marring by a worried frown that
finally made him leave his spot near the window. The fact that she had been waiting for him to arrive before placing an order,
showing the confidence she had in him to show up only served to increase the guilt within him. Stifling the need to leave, to save
himself from the pain he knew he was going to experience by seeing them together, Harry entered the restaurant.

His first reaction was that this was not the type of restaurant that he would have chosen. It seemed too...happy for him. The Muggle
restaurant was one of the popular high end eating joints that seemed to have a waiter lingering about every few feet. The people
were immaculately dressed and the food seemed splendidly expensive. Harry couldn't help but feel grossly underdressed.

The moment he was within their eyesight, both Hermione and Ron stood up enthusiastically, their smiles practically lighting up the
room. Harry couldn't help but mirror their happy grins as he embraced them in turn, grateful that he hadn't let his fear claim him and
cause him to leave. It was good to see them. He hadn't how much he had missed them.

"Blimey, how long has it been?" Ron questioned as he sat down, his hand immediately rising to get the attention of a waiter.

Harry let out a small laugh when he realised that Ron hadn't noticed Hermione's glare, choosing to peruse the menu instead. "Too
long."

Hermione turned towards him, her eyes concerned. "How are you, Harry? Everything all right?"

Harry shrugged, dropping his gaze from hers for fear that she would be able to see through his lie. "I'm good. Great, even. Actually
I'm-"

"Hungry," Ron piped in with a devious grin.

"Exactly!" Harry said gratefully. "Hungry."

Hermione eyed him carefully in a way that made him think that she knew that something wasn't sitting right with him. She always had
a way of reading him the way others couldn't, and he found himself having a mini menu war with Ron just so he could avoid looking
at her; or if he was being completely honest, avoid giving her the opportunity to study him.

With one final tug, Harry managed to pull the menu away from Ron, sporting a smug expression, even as Ron was given another
menu by a passing waiter.

"Git," Ron mumbled with a low breath as he perused his new menu.

To which, Harry breathed out a simple 'Prat' under his breath just to be even.

They both looked up and grinned at each other as Hermione rolled her eyes at their antics. "Honestly, you two."

"What?" they asked simultaneously, their expressions grossly innocent.

Hermione glared at them in turn before a smile fought its way through and she shook her head in defeat. "Nothing."

As they all shared a small smile, Harry realised how much he had missed this.

-----------------------------------------

It wasn't long before Harry excused himself. He had managed to sit through drinks, then half of their meal before he finally pushed
his chair back, stood up quickly, and with a quick mumble under his breath, made his way to the men's loo.

It hadn't been a properly thought out decision at the time. All it had taken was Ron reaching across the table to squeeze her hand
with absolute affection in his eyes for Harry to forget the promise he had made to himself. And now, as he stood in front of the long
mirror in the washroom, his hands clenching around the cool material of the sink and his head bowed in defeat, he couldn't help but
admit that he was tired.

He was tired of pretending that he was strong enough to sit with them for so long. It was a completely insane thought, the fact that
one simple moment between his best mates could make him flee the way he did. To make matters worse, he felt horrid when he saw
their expressions just as he left; Ron's completely confused and Hermione's surprisingly passive. He hadn't expected that. And he
ultimately found himself hiding from them for nearly ten minutes, his mind playing their expressions on a loop, each time focusing
longer on Hermione's while his mind tried to come up with reasons as to why she would have looked at him like that.

It was with great focus and determination that Harry finally threw a handful of water onto his face, dried his hands with immense
speed and left the loo to join his dinner mates. He had been acting like a selfish wanker when all they wanted was to spend some
fun, uncomplicated time with him. The least he could do was look away when they acted like the couple that they were, and respect
them enough to not act like a complete tosser to displays of their happiness.

Harry was just about to pass the two large columns that obstructed their table from the view of others when he heard her mention his
name. Out of pure habit, he paused, leaning his body closer to the pillar so he could hear them better. He had never been particularly
proud of listening in while others spoke about him, but history had shown that the best way to find out exactly what people thought of
him was by doing it the Rita Skeeter way. As far as he was concerned, he had learnt a lot by eavesdropping, particularly from
Hermione and Ron.

"He's fine."

"He's not fine, Ron. You saw him today. He was nervous."
"Well, he has a reason to be nervous, doesn't he? What he ordered doesn't look at all that appetising. I wonder if it's even cooked
right."

Harry heard Hermione let out an exasperated sigh. "That's not what I mean and you know it."

"Okay then, he's nervous. What do you want to do about it?"

There was a moment of silence before she replied, "Make him comfortable, for one."

"He should be comfortable with us. We're his best mates!"

"Exactly! But, he's not. He's too jumpy. And there's something in his eyes..."

Harry could imagine the expression on Ron's face when he heard that. "His eyes? You're basing this on his eyes?"

Hermione let out another frustrated sound. "I know it sounds mad-"

"Mental, more like."

"But, I can see it. There's something missing there. He's not happy."

Harry felt his gut clench at how she had trailed off at the end; the slight catch in her voice when she spoke the words, betraying her
sadness. He felt ashamed for letting his unhappiness show. He hadn't intended to. It had been extremely difficult to sit there and
smile when Ron brought up their fond memories, double dates and future plans. His smile was so wide that he had practically felt his
cheeks crack from the pressure. But that one casual gesture had been his limit and he didn't even know it. He never wanted to upset
either of them, especially Hermione. And he couldn't help but feel that he was failing miserably in that aspect.

Deciding that he had heard enough, and knowing that he didn't really want to hear anymore, he made his appearance known. Ron
smiled at him encouragingly while Hermione seemed to have tears in her eyes. Even if he hadn't spent a good few minutes listening
in on their conversation, he would have known that something was up from the moment they looked at him. But, having heard what
he did, he chose to smile at them and pick up their conversation from where they had left off, with one noticeable change.

"I have news," Harry said with a sheepish grin as he took his seat.

Ron scrunched up his face in disgust. "I don't think any of us really want to hear what went on in the loo, mate."
"Not that." Harry glared at his best friend for good measure before straightening up and saying in what he hoped was a happy tone. "I
was recently promoted."

Ron and Hermione grinned wide as they congratulated him; Ron slapping his back appreciatively and Hermione giving him such a
heart-felt hug that he had to consciously pull himself away before he decided not to let go. Ever.

"That's great, Harry, I'm so proud of you," Hermione said fondly, her eyes brimming with tears.

It always astonished him that he could always make her cry, with happiness and with sadness. He was convinced that no one should
have such power over how someone felt the way she always seemed to have towards him, and how he was positive she had over
him.

"What is it, then?" Ron asked with a teasing grin. "Are you the head Auror now?"

"No," Harry said as he shook his head sheepishly. "There's so much more time before I even have the chance for that. But this is
pretty...good, I suppose."

"Just good?" Hermione questioned curiously, immediately picking up on his hesitation. "I would have thought that you'd be excited
about it."

"I am." She looked at him meaningfully. "Really." He looked at Ron, who was the only one at the table who didn't seem to notice
anything but the good news.

"There must be perks," his mate said excitedly. "Pay raise, less danger..."

Harry smiled sheepishly, aware that what he was promised didn't necessary sound that perfect. "Well, not exactly."

Ron stared at him with mock incredulity. "Don't tell me that they're not paying the Great Harry Potter bucket loads of gold."

"I'm not the 'Great' Harry Potter," Harry said rolling his eyes. "And they're paying me well."

Cocking his head towards a table behind him, Ron grinned. "You sure about that, mate?"

Harry followed the direction Ron was gesturing to, his gaze falling on two women who were pointedly looking at him while they kept
their heads close in heated whispers. Gone were the days when he used to blush at the attention, now finding their blatant stares an
annoyance more than anything else.

Hermione cleared her throat, effectively bringing Harry's attention back to their table. "What's the problem with this promotion then?
And don't tell me there isn't one, because it's obvious there is."

They both looked at him expectantly, causing Harry to admit defeat. "They want me to train new recruits."

"That's brilliant," Ron breathed out.

"You'll be perfect for that," Hermione said, agreeing. "You've always been a great teacher when it comes to teaching defensive
spells."

"Yeah." Harry nodded, his gaze falling on Hermione when he said, "Only it's more of an international gig."

Ron looked at him in surprise. "A lot of travelling then?"

Hermione seemed to be in her own thoughts for a moment before she asked him softly, "How long will you be away?"

Harry let out a humourless laugh, unsure of exactly how thrilled they were going to be once he finally said it. "Three years." He
definitely hadn't expected their silence as they simply stared at him. After a considerable amount of time had passed, he had to
wonder if his best friends had actually heard him.

"Wow," Ron said as he let out a low breath. "So long?"

Harry shrugged. "It's six months in six countries. It's not only me, though. I'm going with a team of recruiters. I guess they see us as
the best teachers after Voldemort."

"But, you're allowed to visit, right?" Ron asked.

Harry quickly glanced at Hermione who seemed to be concentrating too hard on the dish in front of her. "Not really. This project is
something the Ministries are keeping quiet. I think they're building a joint army; one that is trained to make sure that no one does
what Voldemort did ever again."

Ron shook his head in disbelief. "Blimey, Harry, only you could get yourself mixed up with something like this."

"I suppose I'm lucky," Harry mumbled dryly, his eyes landing on Hermione again.
When she finally looked at him, he found that he just couldn't look away. "When are you leaving?"

"A month from now," he said gently, knowing that this was a lot to take in. "They want me to get my affairs in order before I leave."

Hermione smiled then, the widening of her lips looking pained more than anything else. "I'm happy for you. It's good to have a
purpose again."

Harry wasn't sure what reaction he had expected from her, but he was positive that that wasn't it. She was the person who talked him
out of leaving even if it was for one simple Auror mission. It was unnerving that she practically gave him her seal of approval for
something that intended to keep him away for so long. It almost made Harry think that he was doing the wrong thing. Almost.

"All I can say is, we're gonna miss you, mate," Ron said with a sad smile.

Harry smiled back, knowing that he felt the same. "Yeah, me too."

Harry and Ron spent the rest of the dinner discussing Harry's new assignment and the long list of things he had to do before he left,
everything from whether he was taking his broom to what was to become of Grimmauld Place. Every now and then, Harry's gaze
would fall on Hermione who would nod for one statement or another, her mind obviously someplace else. He had hoped that she
would talk to him, but instead found himself a party to her silence throughout the rest of the night.

Chapter 2
The Line In The Sand

Harry spent a good part of the week trying to decide what he should take with him and what he should keep. He had never been the
type to horde unnecessary items or pack really heavily, but there were certain things that he felt the need to take with him for
sentimental value. The first Snitch he had ever caught, which was the same one that held the Resurrection Stone, Moody's glass
eye, the broken mirror shard that Sirius had given him, as well as an Extendable Ear that changed colour to blend into its
environment: the last gift that Fred had ever given him. He was also insistent in taking the photo album that Hagrid had given him at
the end of first year; the one he had added to with pictures of himself with Hermione and Ron, both the old Order of the Phoenix and
the new, as well as Teddy.

It was miscellaneous items like that that meant a lot to him and made him extremely thankful for being a wizard with knowledge of
undetectable extension charms. Each one meant the world to him. And although only one or two items might have been practically
useful, they all held a special place in his life. It was almost as if he was taking them all with him when he was leaving, the presence
of those items would bring comfort when he needed it.

He was about to embark on another unknown journey, that same feeling of apprehensive hope blossoming in his chest the way it
once did when he had first learned that he was to go to a new school and get away from the Dursleys. But there was one factor that
made this decision so much more different from the last. He had jumped at the chance to study magic, to go to a new place and meet
new people and hopefully have friends for the first time in his life. He wasn't as excited about the prospect of leaving everything he
had known for the past eight years and everyone who he cared about to live a life of a nomad. It wasn't necessarily the life that he
wanted, but he could somehow convince himself time and again that this was the life he needed.

Sighing, Harry eyed the Black family tree that spread across the wall at Grimmauld Place, his gaze falling on the burnt picture of his
Godfather. He couldn't help but feel that Sirius might have been disappointed in him. His Godfather had been reckless in life, taking
whatever chance presented to him without much thought to possible consequences.

Harry was the opposite. All he thought about was the consequences. It really couldn't be helped. He was brought into the wizarding
world following events that weren't foreseeable, and was somehow made a celebrity because of it. And every time he had acted
recklessly, or without thinking of those around him, someone else had always suffered. His Godfather was a testament to that fact.

But a lot had changed since then. He was now a lot more cautious, and he hoped, a lot more considerate of others. This was why he
volunteered for the one job that no one else wanted. The truth was, he had no one. No immediate family, no girlfriend, no Sirius or
Remus. All he had was his work, and he was good at it. There was no reason to stay for the sake of others who were already moving
on without him, when he could further his career and perhaps make a name for himself for the hard work that he was capable of;
instead of relying heavily on the one act everyone knew him for, destroying a mad man who wanted nothing more than to be an evil
dictator. That thought was so positively logical that Harry could have sworn that Hermione had whispered it to him while he slept.

Hermione. She was another reason why he just had to leave. He was taking the coward’s way out in that respect, and he wasn't
proud of it. On the other hand, he was letting the two people he loved the most be happy together without causing any trouble for
them. Even though the idea didn't sound half as selfless as it felt, Harry knew that considering the difficulty he had in seeing them
together, he needed to be away from them. Maybe time away might actually do him some good and give him the opportunity to move
on from her, which was ultimately what he was hoping to achieve.

Harry found his gaze falling on the spot where the name of Bellatrix Lestrange used to be, before he burned off that section of the
branch in a furious rage. He had always postponed clearing up the Black family tree, and now all he could think about was making
sure that the wall was a blank canvas before he left. He was just thinking about the possible enchantments he could use when he
heard the familiar noise of the front door opening. Immediately knowing who it was, Harry made his way towards the Grimmauld
Place hallway, excited to see his friends.
Ron and Hermione peeked in carefully, sharing small smiles before they moved silently so as not to awake the notorious screeching
banshee that was the Black family portrait hanging on the wall, their steps painfully slow before they joined Harry and reached the
kitchen together.

"You really need to move out of here," Ron said as he took his usual seat at the table. "It's bloody annoying trying to be quiet every
time we're here."

Hermione rolled her eyes, sitting down gracefully across from Ron. "You find it annoying because you're rarely so quiet yourself."

"I can be quiet! Harry, don't you think I can be quiet?"

Two pairs of eyes looked at Harry expectantly. "Um... Tea anyone?" He gestured randomly before facing away from them and getting
on that pot of tea he promised, even though he hated making it. From the corner of his eye, Harry saw his best mates share a small
grin, one that proved that this wasn't the first time he had avoided choosing sides.

"So," Ron began as he turned to face Harry. "What are we down to?"

Hermione pulled out a small piece of parchment, her eyes scanning the list she had constructed days ago. "I think we only have
documents, books, and clothes left."

Ron eyed her meaningfully. "Hermione, I'm sure Harry can pack his own clothes."

Hermione barely looked up from the list when she snorted softly and said, "Don't be ridiculous."

Harry's head snapped up to eye her warily, even though his lips twisted in amusement when she looked up at him completely
flustered. "What I mean is...As much as you're capable of packing for yourself, you might forget about the essentials."

"Oh yeah," Ron piped in, snickering. "That's Harry. Always forgetting to pack his boxers, right mate?"

Harry would have loved to retaliate with how Ron would always forget his briefs, but he was too distracted by the slight blush that
covered Hermione's neck as she looked away from him. Instead, he chose to mumble, "Thanks, Ron," under his breath. He made a
mental note to add a little bit of salt to Ron's tea just for revenge.

Hermione glared at her boyfriend. "I meant scarves, gloves and hats."
Having put the water to boil, Harry took his usual seat beside Ron. "You know, I have been packing since I was a kid, Hermione. I
think I would know about the essentials."

The blush on her neck deepened, even though she looked at him as if she wasn't affected by what he had said. "I know that. I just
want you to be prepared."

Harry nodded, deciding to stay quiet at the prospect of Hermione finding another chore that would make them spend more time with
him. She had been acting weird the past week since she had volunteered Ron and herself to help him pack. Sometimes, the way she
acted made him think that she wanted to spend some alone time with him, only to be thwarted later, when she couldn't leave fast
enough, almost as if staying with him was uncomfortable. He didn't know what to make of it, and he found it easier to simply take it in
his stride and not ask questions. He wasn't sure if he would like the answer even if he got it.

Ron chose that moment to yawn. "Let's get this over with, then. The faster we do this, the faster I can get to bed."

Rolling her eyes again, Hermione looked at Harry apologetically. "He just came after practise."

The casual way in which she spoke about his career made Ron blink rapidly at her. "Not just any practise. A bloody gruelling battle
regiment. Stanis made us go through fourteen rotations. I thought my arms would fall off after catching the Quaffle a bloody hundred
times."

Hermione scrunched up her nose in disgust at his use of language. "Charming, Ronald."

Before Ron could reply with a snide remark which could easily escalate to a full blown fight followed promptly by angry silence, Harry
piped in, "Shall we get started then?"

They both looked at him gratefully before standing up.

Hermione pocketed the list and pulled out her wand. "Let's start with the books then."

Ron waited until Hermione left the kitchen before turning to face Harry. "Please tell me you need to take only about five books."

Harry looked at him meaningfully. "I'm going away for three years to teach defensive spells to more than three hundred people..."

Ron frowned before he pulled out his own wand and started after Hermione. "Right."

Harry followed close behind, glad that all the packing was nearly done with.
 ------------------------------------------------

It had been nearly two hours of packing books; an endeavour that should have taken half the time if it weren't for the fact that
Hermione insisted that she scanned the pages of each book to decide its relevance. Before long, Hermione sat on the floor of the
library with books all around her, placed in specific piles based on her decision to keep them or not, while Harry and Ron found
themselves a few feet away, playing a game of Quidditch with the enchanted, mini version of the Hungarian Quidditch team toys they
had found tucked away in an old, dusty box. They laughed like children as the game went on, the tiny Quaffle moving easily from one
plastic player to another as they watched the Keeper do amazing tricks to try to save its goal. Harry snickered when Ron handed him
a Chocolate Frog as per their agreement, enjoying the sense of victory after a hard day's work. He always enjoyed being a part of the
winning team.

Hermione looked up from the massive book on her lap and cleared her throat. "Are you two planning to ever help me?"

Ron grinned as he picked up the players to put them back in the box. "We want to. Don't we, Harry? But, we figured we'd only get in
your way."

"No one is as organised as you, Hermione," Harry said with a small smile, knowing that flattery had always been her weak spot.

As expected, Hermione fought a small smile as she tried to keep a stern expression, but failed miserably at it. "I'm sure." She looked
at Ron. "And don't you have a five a.m. practise tomorrow morning? I would have thought you'd want to finish this soon."

Ron winced at the thought. "Oh. Right." He turned to Harry. "Mind if we pick this up another day, mate?" Ron mumbled as he stifled a
yawn. "I think I need all the rest I can get."

Feeling tired himself, Harry nodded. "Yeah, I think its best we get to bed soon."

Ron stood up and stretched languidly before turning to face Hermione. "Coming?"

Distractedly, Hermione looked up. "I think I'll stay a bit longer. I'm nearly done with History of the Dark Arts."

Harry tried to suppress his surprise as Ron shrugged lightly. "Suit yourself." Making over to Hermione, his best mate bent down and
placed a loving kiss on her forehead.
Harry looked away.

"See you tomorrow then?"

Hermione nodded with her own small smile as Ron waved to the two of them and left the room.

Harry stayed where he was, his eyes falling on his other best friend as she went right back to reading the index of the book she was
holding. "Need any help?"

Hermione looked up at him in surprise, almost as if she had forgotten that he was there. "Um..." She grabbed the book right on top of
her 'must read' pile and held it out for him. "You could check if there is anything about mythical creatures in this one. So far, I've only
found three books about it."

To Harry, three books sounded more than enough. But still, he found himself standing up and moving closer to her. Once he took the
book she handed him, he sat down beside her, careful to leave a pile of books between them. "Do we really need another book on
Mythical creatures?"

Hermione nodded absentmindedly without taking her eyes off the page. "So far you're only missing the magical properties of the
water based creatures and creatures to the North. And you definitely need to know all of them where you're going."

"Brilliant," Harry mumbled under his breath before sighing. He opened the book and started scanning random words of the index. It
was barely a moment before he felt the familiar feeling he always had when he sensed someone watching him; the hair at the back
of his neck sticking up in warning. Looking up, he found Hermione studying him while she worried her bottom lip with her teeth, an
expression he'd always found her to sport whenever she was contemplating something. "What?"

"What are you doing tomorrow?"

Her question surprised him, but he shrugged nonetheless. "It's the weekend. I don't have anything, really."

"We should do something," she mumbled more to herself.

Harry eyed her in confusion. "Do something?"

Hermione nodded before she looked at him with a determined glint in her eye. "Together."

"Um...Doesn't Ron have Quidditch the whole day tomorrow?"

She hesitated a bit before she said, "I meant just the two of us."

Harry stared at her incredulously as she continued to look at him with an expectant expression across her features. "Um...Yeah.
Sure." As surprised as he was, there was no real reason why he shouldn't be more than okay with the prospect of spending time with
his best mate. Especially since it would be really refreshing to hang out with her alone for the first time in months.

The grin that split her lips was absolutely radiant. "Great."

Harry smiled, unsure of whether this was a good idea in its inception, but unable to deny himself the chance of seeing her without
Ron; even if it was only for a few hours. "You want to have lunch?"

She shook her head. "No, I think I have a better idea."

"Great. What is it?"

Her lips twisted in amusement as she gestured to the book he was still to read. "Let's just finish all of this first, shall we? Because
once we're done with this pile-" She pointed to a pile of heavy books to her right. "-we still have to do one more."

Harry let out a low groan at the thought of reading, or worse, taking all those books with him. "Why are we going through all these
books again?"

"Harry," Hermione started in the tone she used when explaining something of grave importance. "If you're going to teach, you can't
be unprepared. And I'm going to make sure that you have all the information you need."

"Joy," Harry mumbled, succeeding only to get a light slap on his shoulder for his sarcasm. Harry tried to stop smiling, but couldn't find
it in him. "I meant seriously."

Hermione narrowed her eyes in amusement. "Uh huh." She pointed at the book in his hands and said in a stern voice, "Now, read."

"Yes, Ma'am," Harry said cheekily, receiving another well aimed slap accompanied by a reluctant giggle.

Harry grinned as he started doing the work he had avoided the past few hours. He rather liked the fact that he could still make her
laugh.
 Chapter 3
The Sea

Harry couldn't help but sneak a glance at Hermione who seemed to be deeply absorbed in the book she was reading.

"You know, when you said you wanted to spend time together, I thought you meant something fun."

Her head snapped up only to send a playfully exasperated expression his way. "This is fun."

Harry scrunched up his face in mock disgust. "I meant fun for normal human beings."

"Oh," she said with a casual shrug. "Why didn't you say so? I would have planned something completely different."

He grinned then, thinking for the hundredth time that day exactly how much he had missed spending time with her. "Yeah, you're
right. My fault. I should have specified."

Hermione's grin widened. "Exactly! Surely you don't expect me to think of something fun without any help?"

"Of course not," Harry said lightly, easily playing along. "You have always needed a little nudge to break rules and jinx those who
tattle on secret organisations."

"And don't forget how I absolutely refuse to go on any adventures before packing for every possible scenario."

"Which is where a beaded bag might come in."

"Or having piles of books."

Harry raised the book that she had demanded he read with a mocking expression across his face. "You? Crazy about books? I would
have never thought in a million years."

Hermione let out a small giggle, snorting as she looked back at him as if he had said something completely scandalous. "Shows how
much you know me, Harry. And we've been friends for...what...eight years?"

He let out a small laugh before he looked at her seriously, his eyes studying her too intensely as he always did when he told her the
truth. "I think I know you better than anyone."
Hermione's smile dropped so fast that Harry had to wonder if he had said the wrong thing. But the next moment, she smiled lightly at
him, her eyes kind. "I know you do."

It was one of those moments that Harry had shared so frequently with her, that it had caused him to start avoiding her any chance he
could. It was a moment where all he could think about was to lean forward, place his hand lightly against her cheek, and kiss her.
The thought seemed so natural that he had to look away for fear of doing the very thing that would cross the clearly drawn line
separating their friendship from something more; something that he had wanted to experience with her for so long.

Hermione let out a small, nervous laugh while she kept her head low and pushed a few loose curls behind her ear; an action that she
always did when she was uncomfortable. After a pregnant pause, she looked back up at him, her shoulders back and her demeanour
so much more confident than a moment before. "I did want to ask you something, though..."

Harry simply nodded, letting her know that she should continue. Any topic would be better if it could provide him with a sufficient
distraction from his current thoughts.

But his friend simply bit her bottom lip, her teeth grating against the soft skin while in deep thought once again.

Having the sneaking suspicion that she was about to speak to him about something that they had avoided, and wanting to reduce the
sense of uncomfortable energy that surrounded them, Harry said with a mock serious voice, "If you're going to ask me whether I
found the different types of dark energy which we have been looking for the past hour, I can tell you that this book seems to have
nothing on it."

Her head snapped up before she grabbed the book from his hand. "What are you talking about? I thought I saw a section dedicated
to dark energy."

Shaking his head, Harry took the book from her slackened grip and placed it on the pile of books that he wasn't taking with him. "It's
not the right one. I'm looking for dark energy that is produced by spells. That handles dark energy in general. It's too big a topic to try
to cover within six months."

Hermione stared at the book in disappointment. "Oh."

Once she fell silent again, he asked her, "You wanted to ask me something...?" He picked up another book and pretended to scan
the index, hoping that she would feel more comfortable in bringing up the topic if he wasn't looking at her.

He heard her take in a quick breath before she said quickly, "Why did you volunteer to take up this post?"
Her question surprised him; especially since he thought that no one knew that he had volunteered save for him and the head Auror.
"What do you mean?" he asked slowly, in an effort to bide himself some time.

"I spoke to Kingsley a few days ago, and he mentioned that you actually asked for the job. Why did you do that?"

Harry kept his eyes away from her, trying to slow down his breathing so he could think. It makes sense that Kingsley would know
about his post, but he didn't think of telling the new Minister for Magic to keep the specifics of his recruitment a secret; a sloppy
mistake on his part. "I thought it was a good opportunity," he said finally, hoping that his voice held all the confidence that he himself
lacked.

Hermione eyed him in confusion. "A good opportunity? Harry, they're taking you to the middle of nowhere and the pay is horrible."

"You've had a good talk with Kingsley, I see," he mumbled dryly.

"I suppose you could say that," she said softly before she shifted closer to him. "This doesn't sound like a good opportunity to me. If
anything, it sounds like the worst possible job that anyone could want. Kingsley told me that you were the first person to ever
volunteer for such a job. I just don't understand why."

Harry had no choice but to look at her then, the deep brown irises of her eyes pleading with him to help her understand. "I just
wanted to do it."

He could tell from the look on her face that she didn't buy his reason one bit. "That doesn't make any sense."

"Well, it makes sense to me," Harry said roughly, regretting it instantly when Hermione seemed taken aback by his rough tone.
"Sorry, I meant...This is something that I want to do, Hermione. And it would mean the world to me if you could support me in this."

He knew he had struck a chord when she looked at him as if a deer caught in headlights. She was never the type of person to back
down when her loyalty was called into question; especially when it came to him. "You know I support you in everything you do, Harry.
But this..."

"-is just like anything else." He leaned forward, sending a happy smile her way even though that was far from how he was feeling.
"This is something I really want to do. And I don't regret the decision, not for one minute." That, at least, was the truth.

Hermione could probably read the honesty in his eyes, since she finally nodded reluctantly. "All right," she whispered, even though it
seemed as if the word had to be forcefully wrenched from her throat.
"Thank you," Harry said with a grateful smile, happy that she was dropping it. He knew it was a lot to ask. If she didn't understand
something, she would always pursue the issue until she fully understood the truth. But this was so much more different than any
logical reason; mainly because Harry had no reason that could satisfy her curiosity.

Her smile was strained before she looked away from him, followed by a few moments of uncomfortable silence.

Harry stared at her, feeling every bit of the git for lying to her and making her believe that this was none of her business, when in
truth, she was the reason he was leaving. "I really am happy with my decision, you know."

"I know," she said softly, her tone far from honest.

Deciding that they had spent way too much time on this topic, Harry stood up and dusted his jeans before holding out his hand to
her. "Come on. You did say you wanted to go somewhere."

Hermione eyed his hand warily. "But we haven't finished-"

"I'm leaving in a few weeks, Hermione. I think I have time to find the missing notes on dark energy." He flexed his fingers, gesturing
for her to take his hand.

After a moment of hesitation, she did, allowing him to pull her cleanly to her feet.

Reluctantly, he let her fingers slide from his. "Where to?"

She smiled softly at him. "I know just the place." Grabbing his arm, she led him down the stairs, past the coat rack where they
grabbed their jackets, and outside the front door before she took his hand in hers and Apparated away from Grimmauld Place. Harry
allowed her to lead him eagerly; glad to put that conversation behind them.

----------------------------------------------------

The day hadn't gone quite as Harry had planned. He had hoped that letting Hermione plan their day together and participating whole
heartedly in her endeavour would cause her to be distracted from the conversation he had interrupted at Grimmauld Place. He
realised quickly that that wasn't the case. If anything, his best friend had been silent the whole afternoon; during lunch and even after,
while she took him to a large cliff that overlooked the sea. All those who knew him well, knew that he had a certain partiality towards
the ocean; its colours, the roaring sounds and the scents that were so prominent. He was always drawn to the majestic movement of
the waves as they fought each other to reach the shore; the movement violent, yet controlled. He wasn't sure exactly when this
interest had gripped him, but he knew that he had spent a good few hours while at Hogwarts watching the rippling surface of the
Black Lake, and wondering if the ocean held as many secrets within its depths.

As anyone could have expected from Hermione, she had taken him by the arm and Apparated them to a cliff that was easily over one
hundred feet above the crashing waves, the foamy white mixing well with the deep blue as it fell again and again against the base of
where they were standing. Harry immediately regretted not bringing his Firebolt. It was a perfect day to fly.

Harry wasn't sure exactly why she had brought him to a place where the wind howled loudly and conversation could easily be lost,
but he found himself grateful by her thoughtfulness before he sat down on the soft grass and waited patiently until she joined him.
They sat together, silent, listening to the music of the waves for quite a while. Harry hadn't felt this calm in months, and he was
appreciative to a best friend who always seemed to know what he needed even when he didn't.

But after a while, the silence started to irk him. He found himself looking at her more and more; first with small, fleeting glances, then
outright staring when he realized that she was so deep in thought that she didn't even realise that there was someone seated right
beside her.

"Penny for your thoughts," he said lightly, a grin on his face as he nudged her shoulder with his.

Hermione looked up, startled, proving that Harry's suspicions were right: she had forgotten that she was with him. The realisation
caused him to be more curious than hurt. Hermione's smile was kind, though her eyes held a glimmer of pain he hadn't seen in quite
some time. "It's the anniversary, next Tuesday."

Harry looked away from her, his gaze falling on the moving water. He immediately regretted breaking the comfortable silence they
had been under.

"Are you coming?"

Harry stayed silent, his jaw working furiously in an effort to hold back what he wanted to say. No. It would be so easy if he could just
say it; but it wasn't that simple.

Hermione continued to watch him as he stubbornly tried to ignore the telling expression she sent his way. It was obvious what she
thought. He didn't have to read her mind to know that she would always tell him to do the right thing. But what was the right
thing here? It seemed more like betrayal than anything else.
With a quick shake of his head, he said all that he needed to say. He wasn't interested.

Hermione's eyes widened incredulously. "Is this because of the award?"

"They want to give me the Order of Merlin, Hermione. Of course it's about the award."

She seemed to take a deep breath, one as if to calm her nerves. "You can't not come because the Ministry wants to show their
appreciation. You know how important that day is."

That was a laugh. Of course he knew how important the anniversary was. It was the date he had lost his friends, and those he
considered his family. But to step onto a podium and accept an award that only the greatest of wizards had ever received, an award
that Dumbledore could add his name to, sounded wrong. Just...wrong.

Hermione shook her head lightly. "You're probably the only one who thinks that you don't deserve it."

"I don't," he said seriously.

"That's the thing, isn't it, Harry? The fact that you think you don't deserve it, only makes you more deserving."

Harry eyed her warily. "I'm not pretending not to care about some stupid award. I just don't."

"I know." She shifted closer to him, making it even harder for him to ignore the pleading gaze she aimed right at him. "This is how the
wizarding world is trying to show you their appreciation, Harry. As much as you think you don't deserve it..." She squeezed his hand
lightly. "We all know you do."

Harry simply chose to stay quiet, unable to find it in him to deny what she had said all over again. This was a conversation they had
had before, and he was tired of how it always seemed to come up when he least expected it.

"Just think about it," she said softly before turning to face the sea once again. She shifted closer to him before moving an arm around
his, and tentatively placing her head lightly on his shoulder. Even though they had just disagreed on an important issue not more
than a moment ago, Harry took comfort from her, and allowed himself to relax against her, his head lolling to the side so it fell gently
against her forehead.

They sat there for quite a while. Hours later, when they watched the sun touch the water before its orange rays were swallowed, and
all that was left were the light pink and red brushed across the sky, did Hermione finally untangle herself from him and stand up. She
tugged him to his feet, and silently, they Apparated back to Grimmauld Place.
He had to admit, when Hermione said she would give him time to think, sometimes he couldn't help but think that she gave him too
much.

Chapter 4
The Ballroom

Tuesday was declared a holiday. He would be told later that there was too much of a crowd on the streets of Diagon Alley; people
going from shop to shop buying items that were on sale, children getting themselves nifty little fireworks that would blow off a puppet-
Voldemort's head, while just outside on the outskirts of the bustling streets, there were others who had piled Death Eater Masks and
set them on fire, dancing and singing around the vibrant flames in utter joy as they watched the symbol of their most hated enemy
burn.

More than any other day, Harry was convinced that that was the day he had to be hauled up within the walls in Grimmauld Place and
allow himself to brood in silence. There were too many people to remember. He felt a sense of guilt at the realisation that it had been
a year, and he hadn't thought of every single person they had lost in the war every single day. There would be moments when he
remembered Remus, such as when there was a full moon out, or when he visited Teddy; thoughts of Tonks coming into his mind
when the baby's hair would change colour from blue, to purple, to red. He would also remember Colin Creevy whenever he saw a
photographer. And he would suddenly see Moody in his mind’s eye when someone would tell him of a mugging, the words constant
vigilance playing on a loop within his head. But then there were others he remembered every day. He remembered Dobby whenever
he saw Kreacher, Fred seemed to be in every crazy gadget or red head he had seen, and Sirius he could remember by simply
looking at the walls of Grimmauld Place. His parents had always been on his mind, and he was positive that they always would be.
Sometimes, he would remember the Mirror of Erised and remember their smiling faces looking down at him, proud and happy; other
times, he would pull out the photo album that Hagrid had given him and leaf through the pages, wondering vaguely how life would be
like if they had survived that fateful night at Godric's Hollow.

Harry spent the whole day at Grimmauld Place, part of him aching to get out. He thought about using the invisibility cloak, but he had
gotten too tall to use it practically. His feet would be seen, and following the exclusive interview that Rita Skeeter had
published without having interviewed him, people would know immediately that it was him. Considering that only he was known for
having an invisibility cloak that Death itself had fashioned, it limited his choices if the cloak was ever discovered. He then thought of a
glamour charm; simple and uncomplicated, and he could easily walk among the crowd without having to be attacked. But the
downside was that he had to constantly concentrate, something that he was sure he wouldn't be able to do with a large crowd as
they bumped against him. Finally, it was his fear of being discovered that led him to forget about the celebrations and pick up one
book after another, trying to find the rest of the notes needed for his trip. He was only half way through, and the task was still
extremely daunting. Books had never been his thing, it was Hermione's. And he couldn't help but wish again and again that someone
would create the means of using electronics in the wizarding world. How great would it be if he could simply wiz-search the
information he wanted instead of reading countless books?

By the time evening came around, Harry found himself insanely disappointed. He had expected a visit from either Ron, Hermione or
both as they tried to convince him to attend the celebrations that night. Their presence would have been annoying, but comforting.
And he found himself missing his best mates even more so when he thought back to a year ago and remembered everything they
had been through. From figuring out the ally they had in Snape, to the other Horcruxs, to the battle itself and the countless deaths
and destruction.

The ceremony was to be held at Hogwarts; the place where the last stand had taken place over the Darkest Wizard of all time. He
had countless invites urging him to attend, most demanding that he send a reply back as to whether he was planning on going back
to his Alma Mata on the day. He had ignored each letter studiously until the Minister himself questioned him about his planned
presence. He had told Kingsley that he didn't feel it appropriate to accept an award that others deserved just as much as him. The
calm, deep voice of the former Auror agreed, but stated the importance of having the person who destroyed Voldemort at the event.
He had become a symbol, Kingsley had said; and he should accept it graciously. But that argument did little to sway him.

It was the silence that finally got to him. He wanted to see the Weasleys, the rest of his classmates, Ron and Hermione. He wanted
to find out what Neville had been up to; last he heard he was recruited to teach Herbology at Hogwarts, a brilliant use of his talents if
there ever was a job. He wanted to meet Oliver Wood and find out how his Quidditch career was going. Dean had apparently met a
Muggle girl and he might be moving away from the wizarding community soon, while Seamus was heard to have taken a job at the
Ministry with a lot of travelling involved. He had become so distant from the people who were once the circle of close friends he
depended on; especially with his life. He was about to leave and live a life of seclusion for years, what harm could a few hours at a
stuffy Ministry event do to him? Surely, he was strong enough to endure that. And Hermione would be proud.

As much as he hated to admit it, the only reason why Harry finally entered his bedroom to raid the closet for his perfectly pressed
dress robes was because of his best mate. If anyone had asked, he would have gladly said that he wanted to see everyone one last
time before he took up his post. But he couldn't hide the real reason from himself. He wanted to see her. She would be dressed
beautifully and be standing close to Ron all night; but he wanted to be close to her. He was leaving. He had a right to be selfish and
see her as much as he wanted before he left; especially since he spent the last few months staying away from her and hoping that
his feelings would become less complicated, which to his chagrin, hadn't.

With a deep sigh, Harry straightened his robes and prepared to leave, shouting out a quick goodbye to Kreacher. The house elf had
become his companion over the past year, though he kept the creature hidden whenever Hermione came over. He had tried in vain
to teach the house elf not to be so prejudiced, especially where his best friend was concerned, but failed miserably at it. Kreacher
was too ingrained in his ways of calling people Mudbloods and Blood-traitors. Harry was sure that he wasn't sure of the difference
himself, simply choosing to hate who his mistress told him to hate.

Once Harry stepped out of Grimmauld Place and made his way to the Apparition point, it occurred to him that this was probably what
Hermione had intended. She had come over to his place nearly every single day; sometimes alone and sometimes with Ron, but
always with the pretence of helping him pack. For her to stay away the one day when he really needed company proved that she
wanted him to come to her.

Harry felt a humourless smirk twist his lips. He was a lot of things, but he was never the type to give up something because of his
pride. And his pride be damned, he wanted to see her. It took another four incidents of hesitation where he thought it better to turn
around and head back to his home before Harry had the courage to turn on the spot and felt the familiar pull.

She owed him for this.

---------------------------------------------------------------

It had been a while since Harry had attended an event so formal, where men wore immaculate dress robes and women wore the
latest fashion. As always, he felt like the fraud who was crashing the party rather than an invited guest. Years later, and still the
exclusion he always felt since he was little and lived with the Dursleys never really left him. His nervousness didn't really leave him
even when countless people stopped him to shake his hand and give their congratulations; instead he found himself nodding politely
before excusing himself a few minutes into the conversation.

It was only when he saw the Weasleys, huddled together with a drink in their hands, did he finally feel his shoulders relax. They were
people he could handle. They were the people who he loved seeing no matter what the occasion.

The first to greet him was Mrs Weasley, as always, a tight hug that Mr Weasley had to use all of his strength to try to pry loose before
Harry choked. "Harry, dear. It's so good to see you." She grabbed onto his face painfully, pressing his cheeks in a way that made it
that much harder to smile. And he was smiling. He couldn't help it. He missed the comfort she had given him and all the other mother
hen behaviour that her children complained about, but he relished. "It's been too long," she said slowly, her eyes intensely studying
his. "You should come to the Burrow for brunch soon. At least before you leave."

Harry found himself nodding before he was then embraced quickly by Mr Weasley. "Good to see you, Harry. Will you be joining us
soon? There is a new gadget that we recently confiscated; I think it's called a miniwave. Nasty little thing that tries to bite people's
hands off. Maybe you could show me how Muggles use it."
"Um..."

"Can't you see you're scaring him, Dad?" George gently pushed his father to the side before he held out his hand. "You're a sight for
sore eyes."

Harry gladly took the redhead's hand. "So I've heard." He looked around. "A bigger turn out than I expected." It wasn't really. But he
had been so out of touch with the Weasleys that small talk seemed to be the only thing he could come up with.

George took a sip of his drink and eyed the crowd. "Yes, well...Everyone likes to celebrate," he mumbled dryly.

"Where's-?"

"Ron and Hermione?" He gestured randomly. "Somewhere off snogging I think. Or not. I never know with those two. They don't even
act like a couple half the time. Bloody confusing, really."

Harry tried to hide the sudden sneer that fought to come forth by smiling brilliantly. "I'll go look for them, then."

George nodded. "And if you see Percy, tell him to stop kissing the Minister's arse and to join his family soon. Mum's been asking for
him."

"Will do," Harry said with a quick nod before he turned to look for his best mates, instantly regretting it when other 'fans' recognised
his face and started crowding around him.

He wouldn't have expected his salvation would come in the form of Ginny Weasley.

As always, she seemed to command all their attention before declaring that the Minister wished to speak to him, then grabbing onto
his arm and dragging him to the corner of the hall.

"Thanks." He pulled at his collar which seemed to have tightened during the last few minutes. He thought he was going to pass out
the way everyone was surrounding him.

Ginny smiled at him. "It's no problem. Someone had to save you."

Harry simply stared at her. She hadn't smiled at him for quite a while. If anything, he expected her to give him the silent treatment
considering how he broke things off with her a few months back. He wasn't sure of exactly how to react.
Ginny let out a light laugh at his expression. "Relax, Harry. I'm not going to hex you."

He would be lying if he said that he hadn't let out a relieved breath when she said that. Ginny always did what she said. If she
planned on hexing him, she would have said so before pulling out her wand. "That's good," he said with a relieved smile.

She shook her head almost in disbelief. "You really haven't changed, have you?"

In all honesty, he thought he had. "S'pose not."

"Shall we go for a walk? You must be wanting to get away."

Harry looked over his shoulder at the immense crowd as they conversed and mingled. Compared to that, Ginny was the safer choice.
He wasn't sure if she wanted something from him, or whether his suspicions were only in his mind, but he couldn't help but think back
to the last time they had taken a long walk along the grounds of Hogwarts. He had promised to come back. And he had kept that
promise, just not to her. After a moment of hesitation, he nodded. What was the worst that could happen?

Chapter 5
Red

Within moments of walking along the grounds of Hogwarts, Harry found himself regretting the decision he had made in
companionship, even if at the time, he didn't feel like he had much of a choice. The red head who walked alongside him in silence
only reminded him of everything that he had lost, and everything that he was about to lose.

The last time Harry had taken this same route with Ginny was when he had explained that he couldn't put her in danger. She had
graciously accepted his decision to put their relationship on hold as he started his journey to fulfil everything that Albus Dumbledore
had asked of him. Harry hadn't expected to live through to his twentieth birthday. He knew that his mentor prepared him for death.
The fact that he became the master of the Elder Wand was a happy coincidence that ultimately helped him beat the Darkest Wizard
of their time. As far as he was concerned, the final battle with Voldemort was no less without the combination of luck and chance as
the others he had faced in previous years. If circumstances had changed, Draco could have been the one to beat the mad man;
although whether or not the younger Malfoy would have yielded his power was a chance that Harry wouldn't have wanted to take.

Looking sideways at Ginny, Harry couldn't help but study her, from the light freckles that dotted her nose and cheeks, to the flaming
red hair that hung straight around her shoulders; so unlike Hermione's unruly curls, he found himself thinking. He had always cared
for the youngest Weasley, and he always would. He just wished circumstances were different. How simple would life have been had
his feelings for Hermione never manifested; had he loved Ginny and was happy for Ron and Hermione? The thought of the four of
them happily raising two families made his gut clench, and he suddenly felt the need to have something to distract his thoughts.

Clearing his throat, Harry decided that small talk was the best way to start any sort of conversation. "How have you been?"

Ginny looked startled for a moment before she shrugged lightly, her steps slowing down to match his pace. "Normal, I suppose." A
wall of silence fell between them before she asked a soft, "You?"

Horrible, awful, buggered. He shrugged. "Normal, I suppose."

He could tell from her smile that she was amused by his answer. "Since when has anything ever been normal for you?"

Harry made a point of scrunching his eyebrows in thought before he turned to face her. "Fair enough."

She let out a small laugh before she looked up at him, almost as if a thought had suddenly struck her. "I hear you're leaving."

He wondered how far that information might have gone. "You heard right."

"Why?"

He stopped, unsure of how to respond. No one had asked him that question, save for Hermione. "Why not?"

"It's just..." She looked at him thoughtfully. "We all thought you might leave just after the war. When you stuck around, I guess we all
thought that you wouldn't leave at all."

He looked at her curiously. "Why would people think that I would leave?"

Ginny cocked her head to the side as she regarded him silently, almost as if she was trying to find the right words to tell him what she
thought. "Because you always do."

His mouth immediately parted in surprise, mostly to try to deny that fact vehemently. Had he acted like a coward? Did people view
him like that? Did no one realise that him walking into the Forbidden Forest to face Voldemort alone with the sole intention of dying
for those around him was as far away from a coward's way out as he could get?

But before he could say anything, Ginny shook her head with an amused smile playing on her lips. "Now, don't get mad. I'm not
talking about the war and everything you did for us. No one could ever question you on what you did when it came to You-Know-
Who."

"But, I'm a coward?" he asked slowly.

"I never said that," she said softly, her eyes falling away from him. "You just walk away sometimes."

Harry stared at her in disbelief, his anger at her completely unsound judgment of him beginning to annoy him. "Hang on. So you're
saying that I just...walk away?"

Ginny shook her head once more, almost as if she was aware that this was a delicate subject with him. "Hermione and I were
discussing this a few days ago."

Hearing Hermione's name included in this conversation only made his confusion increase. "What did she say?"

Ginny stepped closer to him, her hands rising hesitantly to straighten the thick material of the lapel of his robes in thought. "She
agrees that you never fight for what you want."

"What does she mean by I don't fight?" he asked incredulously. His mind completely focused on what Hermione had said; on what
Hermione had thought. Of course, the idea was preposterous. He thought she knew him better than anyone. He thought she would
defend him.

"I told you, it has nothing to do with the war." Ginny moved even closer to him, which Harry couldn't have noticed in his distracted
state. The realisation of what Hermione thought of him stung immeasurably. "It's nothing bad, really. We never said it was. You don't
like to put yourself out there and get hurt. I get that."

Harry simply frowned, his thoughts far from what the red head before him was saying. Why would she think he was a coward?

"You wait for someone else to make the first move. You've always been like that."

Did he do something to make her think that? Why didn't she ever say anything?

"And sometimes, I can't help but think that you don't even try when someone is asking you to."

Harry finally looked up, his gaze meeting hers in confusion. He had always been comfortable with her, but found her sudden close
proximity oddly unsettling. "Ginny..."
Her smile was sad. "I wish you had told me that I was the reason you were leaving."

Harry blinked. "Gin..."

She leaned forward, her gaze on his lips, and Harry careened backwards in response, completely surprised by the turn of events.
Ginny's eyes widened in panic before she immediately stepped back. "I thought..."

Before he could say anything else, she turned on her heel and bolted as fast as she could. Harry simply stared after her retreating
form in surprise, before what she had said finally sunk in. He didn't know how, but he suddenly had a feeling that knew who was to
blame for this.

Hermione.

-------------------------------------------------------------------

Hunting down Hermione was extremely difficult. Everywhere he went he was forced to duck or hide behind pillars in order to avoid
running into anyone who knew him; which was unfortunately, everyone. By the time he found her, he considered himself lucky. She
had her back to him and was talking animatedly with two members of the Ministry. Harry watched her for a moment, studying the
curves accentuated by the red dress she wore. His eyes subconsciously roamed over her curls that were pinned up elegantly before
moving down to the exposed smooth skin of her back, only to move even lower to her other assets that Harry had always tried to
convince himself that she never had. It didn't take a genius to know that his attempts had failed miserably. It was worse when she
was dressed up for a formal occasion such as this. Her clothes were always so bloody distracting.

Just as Harry stepped closer, he realised that their discussion was ending. Before she could follow the Ministry officials as they
headed towards the Great Hall, he grabbed her arm lightly and turned her around. "Can I talk to you for a second?"

Hermione looked startled for a moment before her lips parted - probably to chastise him - only for her to stare in surprise when her
eyes met his. "Of course."

Trusting that she would follow him, he let go of her arm and gestured towards a set of classrooms that were right behind him. Even
though Hermione's forehead was marred in confusion, she followed him.

She waited until they had both entered the classroom before questioning him. "What is it? Is something wrong?"
Harry stood uncomfortably for a moment before he made his way over to the closest desk, leaning against it before he looked at her
thoughtfully. "What did you say to Ginny?"

Hermione stared at him in surprise. It was obvious that she hadn't expected such a question from the way he had acted a moment
ago. "Ginny? I don't..."

He sighed, suddenly unsure of bringing up what had happened on the Hogwarts grounds. "She tried to kiss me," he said softly, his
glance curiously meeting hers.

Hermione crossed her arms across her chest, her fingers flexing without thought. "Oh."

He stared at her. Oh. That's all she has to say?

She shifted uncomfortably under his steady gaze. "I honestly don't know what you're getting at, Harry."

"You said something to her," he said softly. "I know you did."

Her laugh was short and forced. "What makes you think that?"

He shifted himself, unsure of how to word exactly what he wanted to say to her. "She seems to think that I'm leaving because of her."

Dropping her gaze, Hermione started fiddling with her earring thoughtfully. "Well...I don't know where she might have gotten that
idea. But I don't think this is the time or place to discuss it." She dropped her arms and let out a low breath. "We should really get
going. The ceremony must have started by now."

He watched her as she straightened her dress before she moved towards the door, her hand pausing on the handle so she could
look over her shoulder at him. "Coming?"

Harry felt his jaw twitch in annoyance, his eyes meeting her expectant gaze in accusation. "You spoke to her, didn't you?"

She shook her head, turning to face him even though her hand held onto the door lightly. "Harry..."

"Didn't you?"

Hermione stared at him, his snappish tone startling her. Her expression then turned defiant, her lips pursing in the familiar way they
always did when she did something she thought was right. That was enough for him. He had his answer.
Pushing himself off the desk, he let out a low laugh. "I should've known." He eyed the slight rise of her chin and the determined glint
in her eye. "What were you thinking?"

"Someone had to tell her."

"Tell her what?"

"Tell her that you were leaving."

He narrowed his gaze at her. "You said more than that."

Hermione still looked at him defiantly. "I didn't see the point in hiding the real reason why you were leaving."

Harry scoffed. "And what was my real reason for leaving?" he asked sarcastically.

She licked her lips, the tiny movement distracting him from the words she spoke next. "You're running away."

A beat passed before he met her gaze, taking care to shutter his features to stop himself from giving too much away. "And what am I
running away from?"

Again she licked her lips, which only made Harry bite his tongue before he snapped at her to stop that. "I know that the split between
you and Ginny was mutual, but it doesn't take an Einstein to figure it all out. A month after your split, you suddenly take a job that
takes you away for more than three years? That's even more impulsive than you've ever been. You always speak about leaving
whenever things are bad for you. How bad was the break up for you to leave for so long?" She narrowed her eyes at him. "And if
there's a better explanation, I'd like to hear it."

He simply stared at her, wondering how she could be so right and so wrong at the same time. "I'm not running away," he snapped in
annoyance. When had the women in his life started to see him as a coward? he wondered.

"You are,” she said passionately. "You were missing for months, Harry. Ron said to ignore it. 'He's just dealing with it in his own way,
Hermione'. And now, this? You weren't supposed to meet us for the first time in months just to tell us that you were leaving. You
weren't supposed to break up with Ginny or not talk to us. You weren't supposed to leave me-" She stopped suddenly, her eyes
widening in panic. "I meant-"

"I know what you meant," Harry mumbled carefully while trying his best not to focus on the one fact that had jumped out at him during
her tirade. "I was supposed to be with Ginny, you with Ron, and we were supposed to raise our two separate families together. That's
it, isn't it?"

"That's not what I meant. I meant-"

"That I'm ruining the perfect little plan that you, Ron, Ginny and Mrs Weasley had decided on," he stated bitterly, his legs moving of
their own accord towards her with slow steps.

Hermione shook her head vehemently. "No! Of course not. We want you to do what you want."

"Just as long as I do what everyone else wants."

"I never said that."

"What you said was awfully close."

"No," she said softly, her eyes dropping away from him when he got uncomfortably close. "I always wanted you to be happy, Harry.
You know that."

He paused for a moment, his mind fighting the urge to touch her. "Is that why you told Ginny that I'm leaving because of her?"

Slowly, she raised her head so that her eyes could meet his, and Harry felt that familiar twisted feeling in his gut when he realised
that her eyes were glazed with unshed tears. "Aren't you?" she whispered softly.

As far as he was concerned, that was the most ridiculous question she could have ever asked him. He felt the need to reassure her,
tell her that Ginny meant nothing to him, that he was leaving because he couldn't bear to see her happy without him. Without another
thought, and only with the loud thrumming of his heart in his ears, Harry leaned forward and lightly caught her lips between his. He
surprised himself again with his impulsiveness and found himself even more surprised when she responded hesitantly. Tentatively,
her lips moved against his own and he didn't think twice about raising his hand to stroke her cheek lightly, a gentle touch to hold her
close. The kiss was slow, soft and chaste, and yet he wasn't surprised when she pried herself away from him suddenly.

She didn't look at him in shock- the way he thought she would. She looked at him with fear, her tongue peeking out for a second to
wet those lips that he had been kissing barely a few seconds before.

He stared at her, speechless, waiting for her to make the next move. This was Hermione, after all. She always knew what to do, what
to say.
But his best friend didn't say a word. She simply turned around, pulled on the door handle and left the classroom quickly. She didn't
glance back once before the door swung shut behind her.

Harry blinked at the spot where she had been standing before he felt a lump form in his throat. He felt like he had just been punched
in the gut, and his fists tightened at the irrational anger he felt towards her, Ron, Ginny, Molly, Kingsley; everyone. But he knew that
the rage building inside was reserved just for him. He had been so careful in keeping his feelings hidden and during one small
moment when he had let down his guard, he had kissed her. Kissed her.

Snarling, Harry turned towards the closest thing in his reach - a chair - and chucked it across the classroom with all his might. The
clatter of the wood as it fell and skidded across the floor did nothing to stop his heaving anger.

"Fuck." He kicked a table over and hated that it didn't shatter into a thousand pieces. “Fuck, fuck, fuck.”

He really was the biggest git on the planet.

Chapter 6
If You Wanted Honesty

The yell of 'Surprise' was the cue for Harry to place a large grin on his face as he entered the Burrow. Having already been warned
by Ron of his mother's latest project - which was to throw the largest party imaginable to wave him off- Harry found himself reluctantly
dodging questions of where he was going and why. At some point, he noticed how his vague answers were hardly satisfying the
curiosity of most of his former classmates and the Weasleys. He could also attribute his distracted conversations to noticing two
missing people: Hermione and Ginny. The missing presence of one was a relief while the other twisted his stomach into knots as he
thought back to their last altercation.

It was good to see Molly and Arthur look more like themselves than he had seen them in a while. He was the perfect excuse for them
to socialise once again with people they were familiar with in the wizarding world, and for that, Harry was grateful. Although, he had
to admit that the first few minutes that Molly hugged him was particularly difficult for want of air, and the next hour he spent between
Arthur and another wizard named Sutton was rather painful for his brain which couldn't come up with sufficient answers as to why
Muggles wouldn't want to play Quidditch without the brooms. Harry did finally let out a relieved breath when Ron saw his silent plea
for help and successfully dragged him away.

With a quick nudge of his head, his best mate gestured to the bottle of Firewhisky he had hidden behind his back. "I managed to nick
it before Mum gave this away. She seems to think we're still eleven." His grin widened. "Hey Harry," Ron said with an evil glint in his
eye, "fancy a cuppa?"

"Yes," Harry said forcefully, his grin widening. After having only pumpkin juice to drink for the past few hours while he answered
earnest questions with lies and tried his best not to think of a certain curly haired witch who should have been there, he really needed
a drink. Several drinks, actually.

It didn't take long before Harry easily followed Ron as they snuck out of the Burrow, only to climb an old, hidden ladder that Fred and
George had installed to the side of their house without the knowledge of their mother several years ago. With a little manoeuvring,
they climbed the rickety steps and snuck onto the roof, Firewhisky bottle still in one piece.

Sighing, Ron took his seat before unscrewing the bottle and taking a large gulp of the Firewhisky before passing it onto Harry.
"Merlin, I needed that."

Harry took a quick sip, enjoying the burning sensation of having the warm liquid flow down his throat. He winced at the taste. It had
been some time since he had tasted a brew so strong. "You and me both." He passed the bottle to Ron, who took it readily.

"Did you see George? I thought he was going to hex Neville."

Harry chuckled. "What was he talking about again?"

"Hell if I know," Ron said with a shrug. "Something about a plant that eats other plants." They both laughed before Ron took another
swig and passed the bottle to Harry.

Harry took the Firewhisky in silence before he took a long gulp, wincing again at the taste. As he handed the drink over to his best
mate, he felt the former gloom settle over him once again. "They're all acting like I'm leaving for good."

Ron took a slow, thoughtful sip. "You are leaving."

"Only for three years. What do they think? Another Dark Lord is going to rise up and kill me while I'm teaching defensive spells?"

"Don't get me wrong, mate," Ron said in utter seriousness. "But you are kind of a Dark Lord magnet."

Harry chose that moment to grab the bottle from his best friend's slackened grip before he could take another sip. "Thanks," he
mumbled dryly.
Ron let out a short laugh. "I'm only joking. It'll be weird, is all, not having you around. It'll be only me and Hermione."

The mention of her name made Harry's expression, which was already passive from the discussion they were having, rather grim,
which in turn, caused Ron's grin to dissolve into a frown. "She said she had work."

"Right," Harry mumbled just before he took another sip. The liquid went down more smoothly with each passing gulp, and he was
beginning to wonder when it would start affecting him. He took another sip to distract himself from the curious expression Ron gave
him.

"What did you say to her?"

So much. Harry frowned, raising the bottle to his lips once again to buy himself more time. "Nothing," he said finally. "I didn't say
anything."

"Well, you must have said something. She's pissed off at you, mate. When I reminded her about tonight, she said she's busy." Ron
snorted out a laugh. "Hermione! Too busy to see you off! That's how I knew she's pissed off at you."

Harry eyed the amber liquid thoughtfully. "Maybe she's mad that I'm leaving." He hoped that was it, though he highly doubted it. He
knew that she was mad at him for not putting his friendship and her relationship with Ron before his own impulses.

"Wouldn't put it past her. She wasn't happy that day you told us about your new job. She spoke my ear off after you left. Saying how
you were doing the wrong thing and should stay."

Harry looked at Ron in surprise. "Did she? I wonder why she didn't tell me."

"You know, Hermione," Ron said with a shrug. "She's determined not to meddle anymore. I think we can thank George for that."
Shaking his head, he grabbed the bottle from Harry's hand and nursed it in his own as he chuckled at the memory. "He shouldn't
have told her that she was becoming like Mum. That near ruined her."

Harry simply winced before he leaned back until his back hit the roof and his head tilted awkwardly in a way so that he could see the
starless sky. He knew that Molly prided herself in performing a cloaking charm on nights when the Weasleys had people over for fear
of rain. But there were days when it would be nice to see the sky as it was, instead of a charm that was made to look like the night
sky.

Ron simply glanced at him before he took another sip of the liquor. "Knowing Hermione, she won't let you leave without saying
goodbye. I'm sure of it."
Harry closed his eyes from the sudden feeling of nauseousness that surged through him. He wasn't sure if it was the thought of
facing Hermione before he left or the combination of Firewhisky on an empty stomach; but whatever it was, he didn't like it.

-----------------------------------------------------------------

Harry glanced at the Muggle clock on his bedside table in agitation before his eyes fell on the pile of bags around his bedroom. He
was convinced that he had forgotten to do something, something important, but he wasn't sure what it was. Sighing, he pulled out the
crumpled paper from his back pocket, checking the list that Hermione had compiled not so long ago. Instead of running through all
items in his mind, he found himself distracted by her familiar hand writing. He hadn't seen her for over a week and he was starting to
feel antsy about it. Ron had convinced him that she wouldn't let him leave without saying goodbye. But it was close to midnight - six
hours before he was due to leave - and she still hadn't appeared. Harry tried, and failed, to talk himself into going to her place and
demanding that she face him. The more he dissected that one moment in the Hogwarts classroom, the more he felt the need to hex
something.

His jaw flexing in annoyance, Harry rumpled the piece of parchment that he had kept carefully and tossed it across the room,
watching the wad of paper pathetically bounce flat against the wall before falling to the floor.

"You should really put that in the rubbish bin."

Startled, he turned around, having not expected any company so late. "I'm sure it could wait."

Hermione shifted nervously from one foot to the other before she entered his bedroom, moving past him to bend down and pick up
the crushed piece of paper. She straightened out the parchment and eyed the list thoughtfully. "I take it you got everything done
then."

"Most of it."

She looked up. "What did you miss?"

"Haven't a clue. Just have a feeling that I've forgotten something."

Hermione dropped her gaze. "Oh."

A moment of silence passed before she hunted down the wiry basket placed neatly near his desk and tossed the list into it. Possibly
feeling like she couldn't avoid looking at him anymore, she glanced at him reluctantly. "You're really leaving then."

He gestured to the bags littered around his room, each and every one of them needing to be charmed and resized so he could easily
carry them all in one bag. "Seems like it."

She crossed her arms around her chest, her eyes finally meeting his. "I'm sorry I couldn't make it for your party at the Weasleys. I
had-"

"Work. Yeah. I heard."

"It didn't mean..." She stopped, her forehead marring in a frown. "It's not that I disapprove of what you're doing..."

"I know," Harry said softly, losing control over the slight edge his voice seemed to adopt by itself. "You just don't care."

She looked at him like he had hurt her, her eyes widening and her lips parting in surprise. "Why would you think that I wouldn't care?"

"Do you?"

"Of course." She said it softly, her voice shaking ever so slightly.

He narrowed his eyes at her. "Then why ignore me?"

"I wasn't-"

"I Flooed you; nearly every day. I tried to apologise."

She looked away from him again and Harry had the undeniable impulse to punch something. He had tried to do exactly what he said
he did. But her unwillingness to listen to him admitting that he was a prat who didn't treat her or Ron the way they deserved to be
treated only made him feel pissed rather than guilty. There was a limit to how much he was willing to apologise for. He had reached
that limit after she had ignored his five letters and ten attempts at calling her. Her very presence only made the anger he had
managed to stifle come to the surface with a vengeance; and he was in no mood to hide it.

Instead of making an excuse and leaving the way he thought she would, Hermione made her way to his bed and sat down at the
edge, her back stiff and her arms dropping to her lap.
"You shouldn't have kissed me, Harry."

He knew that. How could he have not known that? That was all he had thought about for the past week. But instead of saying all that,
Harry mumbled a simple, "I know." He had kissed the girl his best friend had been into since they were fourteen. Sometimes, the guilt
felt like it was eating him alive.

"I should tell Ron."

Harry felt his chest collapse at the thought. A punch he could handle, a hex he would gladly accept, but he didn't want to see how
Ron might view him afterward. He wouldn't be able to take that.

At his silence, Hermione looked up at him cautiously. "He should know."

Gritting his teeth in frustration at the way she was egging him on, he narrowed his eyes at her. "You're right. I should tell him before I
leave."

As expected, Hermione looked at him in surprise before her expression was forcefully made neutral. She waited silently for a
moment before she stood up, her arms circling her body once again almost in defence. "Stay safe, Harry."

He simply nodded, wanting nothing more than to be alone and work on controlling the surge of anger that he felt towards the
situation he was in.

Hermione walked past him slowly, her head ducked and her eyes low before she suddenly stopped. Almost like an afterthought, she
turned towards him, placed a warm palm on his cheek, leaned up on her toes and kissed his other cheek lightly. Had he any control
over that one moment, he wouldn't have closed his eyes and inhaled her scent for that passing second. But as it turned out, when he
did finally open his eyes, she was looking at him the same way she had the moment he had felt the undeniable urge to kiss her; her
face so close to his that he need only lean down slightly for his lips to meet hers. With as much control as he could muster, Harry
stopped himself from reaching for her, his hands clenching into fists from the sheer effort of wanting to pull her closer. Instead, he
waited. He waited for her to drop her hand, step away from him and leave. He didn't expect the sudden cloud of uncertainty that
coloured her eyes before she leaned up on her toes once again, only this time, her lips meeting his.

Harry stayed rigidly stubborn even as his own eyes closed for a moment and his lips pulled against hers gently before he felt her pull
away. This time when his eyes met hers, there was something else in her gaze. She seemed just as conflicted as he felt, her glance
doing more than falling onto his mouth. He could see a level of concentration in her gaze; something akin to the way she used to look
at a sum when she was trying to figure out the answer. But what confused Harry the most was the fact that she wasn't leaving. As
distracted as he was by what she had done and his own response to her, in the back of his mind he knew that she had the bigger
responsibility; she was supposed to leave.

Hermione didn't leave, though. Her eyes rising to meet his, she leaned forward carefully once again until her lips met his. This time,
Harry didn't try to control any impulse. Kissing her with a passion that made his blood thump loudly in his ears, he finally allowed his
hands to pull her forward and feel her. He kissed her the way he had wanted to for months, with his fingers studying her form and her
body moulding against his while his hand fisting in her hair to keep her so close that he felt her everywhere. That's what he wanted;
he wanted her to move against him, to cry out his name and surround him. He wanted nothing more at that moment than to be buried
inside her; a primal need inside him wanting her to be his, and his alone.

Whatever conscience he had was stifled from the tiny sound that escaped from the back of her throat. Kissing her while she clutched
onto him was one thing, but that sound was what made reason seem like the least important thing in his life. He felt the determination
to do anything that would make her let out that sound again and frequently. She wanted him as much as he wanted her; and that was
what his mind chose to concentrate on.

Hermione kissed him the way he might have imagined she would, her lips pulling against his with controlled movements, her tongue
meeting his gently in experimentation, becoming bolder with each new caress. Trailing over his shoulders lightly, her fingers seemed
to have a mind of their own before burying themselves in his dark hair, the light tug of the strands of the base of his neck causing a
shiver to course through his spine while her body squirmed against his. Their hot breaths mingled as the kiss seemed to pick up in
intensity, their hands grabbing onto each other like they were holding onto a lifeline. But still the kiss went on, with Harry becoming
bolder by slipping his hand under her sweater to touch her bare skin underneath. As if he had burned her, Hermione suddenly
untangled herself from his arms and jumped away, taking two steps back as she looked at Harry incredulously while her chest rose
and fell distractingly quick with each deep breath.

Harry stared back at her, a thousand statements running through his mind. He wanted to tell her that she shouldn't kiss him like that
and expect them to be friends ever again; he wanted to tell her that this was more than just physical and he needed her. But most of
all, he wanted to tell her not to leave. She looked ready to bolt and he didn't think he could handle it if she turned her back to him and
left.

But at that moment he had no words. Without any thought, Harry took those two steps between them, a hand rising up to grab the
back of her neck as his lips met hers, his chest expanding when she responded immediately, her own hands fisting in his sweater.
This kiss felt different, more needy and somehow accepting. She didn't stop him when he nudged her backwards until the back of her
knees hit the bed; she didn't stop him when he gently helped her down on to the mattress, his hand splayed on her lower back while
he trailed warm, open mouthed kisses down the column of her neck; she didn't even stop him when their kisses became more sloppy
and demanding the moment he fell on her, their trailing hands and active limbs causing her top to rise up dangerously high. Her
kisses were sweet, her scent intoxicating, and the way she rubbed against his hardness only made him realize that he was far from
ever seeing her as anything less than she was now; as the woman writhing under him in bed, curls fanned out under her, lips plump
and delicious with soft hands pulling him towards her in unbridled need.

Later, Harry wouldn't know what had given him the courage to pass the line that he was determined never to go near. But at that
moment, he simply touched her, studied her, tasted her. His fingers made a fiery trail that his lips followed, eagerly accepting
Hermione's arching back and the way her legs rose to encase his hips between her thighs. With the desire to explore her skin,
clothing lost its purpose as they systematically removed one article after another, their actions hurried but seemingly practised as if
they had been doing this for years. Her sweater slipped off easily, his practised fingers then unclasping her lacy bra before moving
down to the zipper of her jeans, all the while making sure that her lips were never left wanting or his skin never lost the feel of hers.

Somehow, tossing away the last few items that were between them was easy. It was after, when there was nothing but skin on skin
that their kisses became considerably less animalistic and more slow, sensual and loving. He kissed her everywhere from the corner
of her lips, the tip of her chin, the edge of her jaw to the base of her neck and the tiny freckle he always knew she had on her
shoulder. His heartbeat raced at an unimaginable pace. Their breathing was harsh and deep, but the way her chest rose to meet his
with every breath and the way her splayed fingers moved down his back to pull him closer was all that mattered.

There was a moment when Hermione nudged his head up, her hand reaching out for the glasses that framed his face. Harry had
stopped her from taking it off, choosing to take her hand in his gently and kiss her fingers instead, moving from one digit to the other
before his lips marked her slowly from her palm, to her wrist, up to her elbow and then to her shoulder only to move downwards and
distract her by taking one pert nipple while he caressed her the way he knew how. He knew this was probably the first and last time
he would ever see her like this. And he wanted to see it; see it all, see all of her. Ignoring his own burning desire to take her, Harry
moved even lower, and lower still, a thrill going up his spine when he felt her stiffen at the knowledge of what he was about to do
next.

"Harry-"

He couldn't let her talk and regret this; not yet. He licked his way over her stomach, her hip, only to surpass the place he knew she
wanted him to pay attention to, as he placed warm kisses on her thigh. He felt her squirm further, her hips rising in earnest, her hand
tangling in his hair like a gentle nudge while he systematically ignored her plea.

"Harry."

When she said his name again, it was breathy and made his already hardened-self twitch with anticipation. He was convinced that
she should always say his name like that. Finally giving into her not so subtle request, he kissed his way to the apex of her thighs,
the sudden keening moaning escaping her throat wanting nothing more than to replace his mouth with a part of his anatomy that had
been grossly ignored. Her heavy breathing was like music to his ears, her skin soft, supple and willing. Harry held her so tight that he
felt like he was marking her, wondering if his fingers will always have a place on her thigh, her hip and her bum. When he felt her
stiffen, her toes curling, her hands fisting in the sheets, he stopped, relishing the whimper that escaped her throat.

He continued to kiss up her body, knowing that she was as ready for him as he was for her. As he crawled up her form, his eyes
finally meeting hers, he stopped. What they had done was plenty enough, but to take the final step...

Keeping her eyes on his, she untangled her fingers from his hair, moving downwards over his chest, his stomach, until she had him
in her warm palm. Harry felt his breath hitch, his eyes watching her intensely as she stroked him slowly, the pressure of her grip
heavenly and painful at the same time. With a look of determination, Hermione rose up and kissed him gently on the lips, her
breathing shallow and her eyelids low. Harry kept his eyes on hers as he felt the tip of him touch her wet core; he still kept his eyes
on hers as she nudged him gently and he pushed forward, her body easily accepting him with each passing inch. Slowly, he entered
her and watched as her eyes darkened and her breath hitched just as he was buried to the hilt. It was then that Harry chose to stay
still, waiting for her to make the next move.

Hermione clenched around him, causing the feeling of absolute ecstasy to travel up his spine. Keeping his eyes on her, he pulled out
slowly before burying himself once again. Hermione gasped, her eyes closing and her head tilting back as Harry moved slowly,
creating a rhythm both familiar and foreign to him. She started meeting him thrust for thrust, her legs tangling over his hips to pull him
closer and her nails biting into his back in the way she gripped him. It didn't take long before the rhythm changed and became that
much faster, their breathing hollow and quick and his grip on her thigh that much tighter. Wanting to taste her, Harry leaned closer,
allowing his tongue to lick at her salty skin before her lips found his and they shared a ravenous kiss.

Then it seemed like they both lost control; his hips moved faster, the slapping of skin on skin the only noise besides their heavy
breathing and the tiny whimpers that escaped her. Their kisses were fast, sloppy and felt like the best thing in the world. She gripped
him harder and even whispered, "Faster, Harry. Faster," in his ear which was finally his undoing.

They were a tangle of limbs, two sweat slicked bodies rocking against each other in a battle for completion. It wasn't until Hermione
suddenly stiffened, a gasp escaping her while her muscles clenched tightly around him that Harry felt his control slipping further. It
took only a few more powerful thrusts for him to be right there with her, a grunt escaping him as he saw lights behind his eyelids and
felt exhaustion take over nearly every muscle of his body after, causing him to collapse onto her.

They stayed like that silently, the rhythm of their breathing slowing down second by second. Harry kept his head buried in her
shoulder, the feelings of guilt at what he had done and disgust over his own lack of control making it that much harder to look at her.

Hermione's arms slipped away from him hesitantly. "I should go."

Harry closed his eyes for a moment, wishing against everything he knew that this had not happened before reluctantly relieving her
of his weight. He straightened his glasses out of habit, as Hermione sat up, the sudden modesty of how she reached for the closest
piece of clothing to cover herself up and the attractive blush that coloured her cheeks annoying him. He searched for his own jeans,
silently getting up to dress as he kept his back to her. By the time he put on his jumper, which had been crumpled on the floor a few
feet away, Hermione had already finished dressing, her arms crossed around her in what he could easily guess as shame. And even
though the logical part of his brain acknowledged the fact that she had a right to not look him in the eye, her behaviour only caused
his jaw to twitch in annoyance.

"Goodbye, Harry," Hermione whispered shakily, her glance firmly fixed on the pile of bags he was yet to pack.

Harry simply nodded, deciding that silence would be a better alternative than confronting her inability to look at him, which was
exactly what he wanted to do.

Hermione didn't wait, choosing to rush out as soon as possible without glancing at him once.

Harry wanted to follow her. He wanted to talk to her, clear the air, propose that she run away with him and kiss her. But instead, he
collapsed onto the same bed that he had just had sex with his best friend on, and groaned out loud at his utter stupidity.

It wasn't until later, when everything was packed and he looked at Grimmauld Place for the last time, that Harry had the idea
materialise in his mind. He could go and never come back. They were all better off without him. He could start over; somewhere new,
somewhere where people didn't know his name and there was no person called Hermione Granger who had kissed him and held him
in a way that made him feel loved for the first time in his life. He could not return and be a constant reminder to Hermione of her
infidelity. He could stay away and finally work on getting rid of the whole in his chest he felt from betraying his best mate. He could
never come back and try to be happy. He could try to forget about her.

With that last thought in his mind, Harry stepped over the threshold of Grimmauld Place and locked the door behind him before
Apparating on the spot.

Epilogue
History Repeats Itself

"Ah! Mr Potter. It has been a while."

Harry smiled humourlessly as he accepted the hand of the Head of the Department of Magical Law Enforcement, shaking it firmly
before stepping back to stand in line with the other five instructors who had joined him in this endeavour that had lasted the past
three and a half years. What had started out as a programme that was to end in three years, got pushed back gradually until a further
seven months were spent teaching new recruits that were to the joint wizarding army belonging to all magical countries. The other
five looked the way Harry felt. Tired, haggard, and need of a hot bath.

The Head of the Department went on to state the usual statements pertaining to how grateful they were to the service provided in the
name of justice. Harry had heard it all countless times and he was sick of hearing the repetitious phrases from one country to
another, to be said in different languages by different nationalities. It didn't change one fact; that he was back and in a position to
resume his life. Something he wasn't yet ready for.

After meeting the rest of the Departmental Heads and briefing Kingsley, they were finally allowed to leave. Throwing the worn
backpack over his shoulder, Harry said goodbye to the other instructors and made his way out of the office of the Minister for Magic
and started on his way towards the exit of the Ministry where he could floo out. He wanted nothing more in that moment than to stand
under the warm, powerful spray of a shower, followed swiftly by collapsing onto a soft mattress so he could crash for several days.
As he passed, he noticed how people watched him curiously, wondering briefly if they were shocked to see him, or shocked to see
him with a beard. Somehow, that thought made him smile. Harry was too distracted by his one goal of cleanliness that it took a while
to realise that someone had called out his name.

Turning around, Harry felt his stomach flip in happiness and knot itself with guilt when he saw Ron rush over to him.

"Blimey, Harry, I didn't even recognise you."

Harry grinned as he embraced his best friend, happiness winning over guilt for that small moment. "How did you recognise me?" he
asked curiously as he pulled back.

"Easy," Ron said with a smirk. "I just looked at what everyone else was looking at."

"What are you doing here?"

"Oh, me?" Ron asked nervously. "Well...Percy said that they're looking for someone to be the Quidditch liaison for the Ministry so..."

Harry grinned. "That's great, Ron."

"Yeah? You think? I'm not really sure about it. I would have owled you but I didn't know where you bloody were."

"We kept moving a lot," he mumbled dryly.

"I figured," Ron said in good humour. "Listen, I've got to go meet Luna, but can I come over tonight? You owe me a Firewhisky."
Strangely, only one fact jumped out at Harry. "Luna?"

He didn't quite expect the reaction Ron underwent by simply mentioning their schoolmate's name. His eyes suddenly looked down,
the violent blush colouring not only his ears but his cheeks and neck as well.

Harry eyed Ron suspiciously, realisation dawning the instant Ron's eyes met his. "Luna?"

"It's not like I had a say in it," Ron protested.

"'Course not," Harry said in amusement. "You just like her radish earrings."

The blush deepened, which Harry didn't think was quite possible. "Since when?"

Ron cleared his throat in an attempt to tame his flushed skin. "For a year now."

"A year?" A sudden thought occurred to him. "What about Hermione?" He had thought that they would be engaged by now, planning
a wedding that he wouldn't have been able to avoid and watch them as they happily accepted everyone's wishes.

His best friend shook his head. "Long story. One that I will gladly tell you tonight. If you want to see her, she's right here."

Harry's chest suddenly felt constricted. "She is? Where?"

"Under the Department of Foreign Relations. Something about helping to translate Ogre contracts."

Harry highly doubted that was what she was doing. But he wasn't ready to see her just yet. "Actually, I really need a shower now."

Ron eyed him from head to toe before he said a serious, "Yeah."

Harry shoved him half-heartedly, laughing when his best friend feigned being off-balanced.

Ron slapped his shoulder with a loud laugh. "I'll see you tonight then," he said before he bolted, moving quickly towards the exit.

Shaking his head, Harry followed him slowly, feeling no need to hurry. But just before he could go any further, he changed his mind.
Turning on his heel, he headed towards the Ministry lifts, his stomach doing nervous summersaults.
 --------------------------------------------------------

Harry stayed silent as he watched Hermione at work. She looked small compared to the large piles of documents that littered her
desk in the office she was assigned. She would flip a few pages, brows furrowing in concentration before she scratched her quill
furiously on a piece of parchment. The familiarity of seeing her this way made him smile. It was also at this time that she happened to
look up.

Hermione stared at him as if she was seeing a ghost, her eyes wide and her jaw slacked. "Hi," she said after quite a long time.

"Hi," Harry said back. It seemed like the right and the wrong thing to say to her after so long.

"You're back." She sounded surprised.

"And Ron's seeing Luna," Harry said, equally surprised. He intended to say something witty like he was back from his expedition
hunting whales, but instead what came out was a snide remark pertaining to the one topic he had promised himself he wouldn't bring
up: Hermione's love life.

Hermione hardly blinked. "They're happy together."

"And are you happy?" It surprised him how much he wanted her to say 'no'; that she had been waiting for him. Until that moment,
Harry hadn't realised that the feeling in his chest the moment Ron had said about their relationship ending had been hope. And that
was how he looked at her, hopefully.

Hermione stood up slowly, her legs seeming to shake under her. "Yes," she whispered. "I'm happy."

Maybe it was the way she said it, or the way she had looked at him. But without even knowing it, Harry had dropped his backpack
and advanced towards her, walking around her desk to pull her towards him and kiss her roughly. Hermione responded
enthusiastically, her lips just the way he remembered them, her body against his, just the way he had dreamt of it.

When she pulled away from him, he reluctantly let her, hating the fact that she had tears in her eyes. "I've been waiting for you."
It felt like his heart had stopped. "You shouldn't have," he whispered, raising one hand to rub his thumb against the smudged lipstick
on the bottom of her lip.

Her smile was pained but sincere. "And yet, I do it."

Wanting to show how much he appreciated her, Harry leant forward to kiss her, only to be thwarted by her cheek.

"The door," Hermione said with a slight nudge.

Harry eyed the door in contempt before he dropped his arms from around her, striding around her table to close the bleeding thing.

"I guess you spoke to Ron. Did he tell you what happened?"

Harry turned towards her, feeling up to doing anything but talking. "No. But from the way he didn't punch me, I can guess. You didn't
tell him, I s'pose."

She shook her head, her eyes holding a sadness he hadn't seen in years. "But I did tell him that there was someone else."

Harry looked at her for a moment, knowing how hard that must have been for her. "How did he take it?"

Her laugh was short and humourless. "Not well."

He shifted nervously, unsure of what she expected of him. "What now?"

Hermione looked away from him suddenly, making him infinitely curious as to what was going on in that brilliant brain of hers. "I don't
know. Is there anyone? In your end?"

"No," Harry said carefully. "Not since you." Which was why he didn't have any problem with leaving the door open for the world to
see. He was convinced that no man was meant to be celibate for so long.

The smile her lips split into was small, but brilliant. "Neither have I."

If there was anything that could have made him pounce on her at that moment, it was hearing those words leave her lips. Without a
second thought, he locked the door and gladly made his way over to her to pull her into his arms as he kissed her hungrily. He had
waited for over three years for this; and he was determined to take his time.