"But what now? What am I supposed to do with all of these feelings?"
- Jenny Han, To All The Boys I've Loved Before

Hermione sneezed into her sleeve for the nth time that day and blew her nose into a piece of tissue. The chill was creeping into the December air and she had caught the flu a week before. It was so bad initially that she was ushered home by her boss and told to rest and not come back to work until she was all better. Well, the flu was gone, but now she was left with a cold. Still, Minister Shacklebolt insisted that she stay home and she was simply bored out of her mind.

Hermione was not a homebody at the very least. Her work at the Ministry of Magic as the head of the Department of Mysteries kept her very busy and she spent most of her days, and even nights, in the office. Minister Shacklebolt thought that this was the perfect time for her to get some much needed rest that she wasn't even authorized to work from home. He had instructed that she be left undisturbed unless it was absolutely urgent. Hermione couldn't tell if this was his way of trying to get rid of her or if he was truly concerned.

But Hermione was bored and her work was much needed to save her from misery. So she had instructed her assistant, Evelin, to covertly come by her home later in the day to bring some papers and research to go over. She had received floo messages from her colleagues all throughout the week and she knew just how busy her department was. The Aurors had unearthed scrolls written in ancient Chinese writing during a coven raid in Wales. Why Welsh witches would have those scrolls were a mystery and the aptly named Department of Mysteries was tasked to translate and investigate the scrolls.

It was only 10 o'clock in the morning and Hermione was left feeling the need to do something productive. In the past few days she had been going through the different rooms of her house cleaning and rearranging furniture. She had already done the kitchen (twice), living room, master bedroom, and spare bedroom. The only room left was her office. Grabbing a glass of water and a box of tissue, Hermione walked down the hall from the kitchen and up the stairs towards her office.

Hermione's office was very much Hermione. Tall bookshelves lined the walls with the thick tomes sorted alphabetically by author. Sections were divided by little trinkets and picture frames with many of them containing Hermione and her two best friends. In front of a large bay window was her enormous desk with quills and inkwells and parchment neatly arranged on top. A larger picture frame was placed on one corner next to a small bowl of her favourite sweet.

On one corner of the room, however, was a large cupboard which contained all of her whats-its. It was that cupboard in her house where she would put everything that didn't really have a proper place. Like a shrunken head, for instance. She was given it as a present from a coworker who holidayed in Mexico. It also talked; and Hermione had to cast a very strong and permanent Silencio on the head otherwise it would keep yapping away inside the cupboard. Yes - today was the day she would sort out that mess.

Hermione Accio'd a dustbin next to the cupboard and promptly chucked the shrunken head into it. Next to go was a pair of broken glasses - Harry's, she assumed, since she didn't even wear glasses - and the "Extendable Ears mach 3", a new version of the Extendable Ears the twins had given her to try two years ago. One by one Hermione went through the drawers of the cupboard methodically and got rid of items she had no need for.

When she opened the bottom drawer, Hermione found a large round box which her parents had given her for her eleventh birthday. She had expected to find a present inside but it was empty. Her parents told her that the box was to be filled with all the things she loved and wanted to keep, especially since she was about to embark on her new adventure at Hogwarts. She had treasured it ever since and added little mementos inside the box over the years.

Gently Hermione lifted the box from the bottom drawer and set it atop her desk. She took a seat behind and removed the lid to look through what was inside. There were a lot of photographs, again of her and her best friends over the years, as well as photos of her parents. There were little bottles filled with sand from the holidays she took with her parents and there was even a golden Snitch in there that Harry had given her after he had caught it during a Hogwarts Quidditch game.

Hermione smiled at all the memories as she rummaged through the box.

Her face coloured though when she came across a bunch of letters stacked on top of each other and bundled with twine.

It was her love letters.

Or rather, it was the letters she wrote when she thought she was in love.

Nimble fingers removed the stack of letters, set it on the desk, and untied the twine. Because she was Hermione, the letters were arranged chronologically. The very first one on top she handled gently since it was the oldest. She remembered this one. She had written it in her first year at Hogwarts and it was addressed to the very first crush she realized she had.

Dear Neville,

It's the last day of our first year at Hogwarts and I want to say that I'm amazed by you. From the moment you asked my help on the train to look for Trevor (I think Trevor is a fantastic name for a toad, by the way) to how you won Gryffindor the House Cup, I had always looked forward to seeing you. You were always so kind to me unlike the other boys at school. You never made fun of my hair or my teeth or my "know-it-all"ness.

I wish to get to know you better, Neville, because I already really like you. I don't think I've really felt this way about any boy before, so I might even love you. I don't know yet, but I will find out. Hopefully I can see you over the summer though I don't really know where you live.

PS. I am very sorry for petrifying you, but it was necessary at the time.

Love,

Hermione

Hermione let out a little laugh as she set the letter down. Her eleven year old self was something else. Had she always been so dramatic? She carefully refolded the letter and inserted it back into the envelope which held Neville's name.

The second letter she removed from the stack was addressed to none other than Viktor Krum. Hermione groaned when she read the name on the envelope. She was such a silly girl around him and she shuddered to think what she had written in the letter.

Dear Viktor,

I would deny it if you ever tell anyone but I really like it when you call me "Herm-own-ninny". It's like a special nickname that is only meant for me-

Nope, nope, nope. Absolutely not. Hermione immediately refolded the letter and shoved it back insides its envelope. She couldn't read further than that. She blamed her lovestruck teenage self and seriously considered binning the letter if not for it being part of a set.

The third letter was addressed to Ron Weasley, aka one of her best friends. She had a crush on the redhead during fifth and sixth years at Hogwarts and finally penned a letter when he had started dating Lavender Brown.

Dear Ron,

Why Lavender? Why a girl who could not be more different than me? I think I started to like you when you were so obviously jealous of Viktor during our fourth year. And, because of that, I think you liked me too. But nothing really happened and we continued to be best friends. My feelings for you simmered until I saw you dating Lavender. When I saw the two of you walking hand in hand in the halls and snogging in the common room (which was gross, by the way; there were other people in there and you were very inconsiderate!), I was reminded of how I felt for you.

But Lavender is the most different girl than me. If you were asked who could be the least Hermione girl in Gryffindor, you would probably pick Lavender. And, because of that, I realized that you and me could never be. Because if you like Lavender, what were the chances of you and I working out? She's fun, and pretty, and has gorgeous straight blonde hair, and her favourite subject is Divination. I'm not saying that those are terrible things, because they're not, and I consider Lavender as my friend. But she is the polar opposite of me.

Therefore, this is my love letter and my goodbye letter. Because from this day forward, I will no longer love you LOVE you anymore, Ron. Not in that way. I will always love you for you are my best friend, but that is it.

Love,

Hermione

Hermione's face flamed as she finished reading and she gave out a little laugh at how sentimental she was when she wrote it. Ron would have a field day if he ever got his hand on this letter, and Lavender would too! She and Ron had married each other after The Battle and her and Hermione grew closer. If she wasn't so embarrassed, she may just show the couple this letter. But that would bring into question if she ever wrote others, and she really couldn't have that.

...which brought Hermione to the last three letters in her pile. They were all addressed to one person. She carefully took the three envelopes and shuffled through them. The first one was written at the end of what would have been her seventh year, the second written the year following The Battle, and the last was written just one year ago. Carefully she opened the first envelope and took the yellow parchment into her hands.

Dear Harry,

It was always you. You were the first and I think you'll be the only. I can't believe it took me seven years to realize this, but here it is.

I love you, Harry.

I don't remember the exact time it happened (it might have been the troll for all I know), but I do know that I was drawn to you the moment I saw you on the train. I tried to keep my distance in first year because of how Ronald and I were back then, but I couldn't help but keep wanting to be near you. I wanted so badly to be your friend and was actually really thankful that the troll made that happen.

But I think I grew so comfortable with my place as your other best friend that I didn't want to risk our friendship by fostering a crush. So I stamped it down. I squashed that little notion that you and I could be more than friends and I made it my mission to be the very best friend you can have.

But this past year made me realize that I deserve to be true to myself. We almost died, for goodness sake! Life is far too short and far too unpredictable to keep my feelings bottled up. At the very least, I should be honest with myself. So here is my honest declaration that:

I, Hermione Jane Granger, am in love with Harry James Potter.

I'll probably end up burning this letter, because I don't know if I'm ready for YOU to know that I love you. But alas, I now know this and isn't that what is important?

Love,

Hermione

Hermione paused in a somewhat trance with the letter still in her hands. She could vividly remember when she wrote this.

It was after a celebratory feast held at Hogwarts after the castle had been rebuilt. After the party had died down and she had retreated to her chambers to sleep, one face plagued her mind. It was the face of her best friend, with his dark black hair tousled in disarray and intense green eyes. A lightning bolt scar was etched at the middle of his forehead and his black rimmed glasses was perched on his high nose. It was Harry Potter. And while in bed, she found herself imagining his lips curved into a smile and his head was leaning closer, and closer, until finally…

Hermione bolted straight up in bed with her eyes wide. Best friends do not imagine kissing each other. She tried to do that with Ron and grimaced at the thought. So why was she imagining kissing Harry Potter then?

Hermione spent the next hour deep in thought. And that was when a lightbulb sort of turned on in her head and she just knew the answer why. She was in love with Harry Potter. And for a long, long time in fact. And so she wrote that letter.

A ringing doorbell drew Hermione back to the present and she quickly refolded the letter and put it back into its envelope. She set the letter down on top of the growing pile on her desk and she exited her study to answer the front door.

Hermione was greeted with the bright, smiling face of her assistant Evelin when she pulled the door open. Evelin, a young girl of just eighteen years old, was fresh out of Hogwarts and as eager as can be. She was bubbly and cheerful but as proven by her schooling with the Ravenclaws, she was also as smart as a whip. Hermione took her on as her assistant because she was quick and efficient with her work but also provided some much needed laughter and light in the dark halls of the Department of Mysteries.

"Hi, Hermione!" Evelin greeted loudly. She stepped inside Hermione's home and dropped a heavy tote bag on the foyer so she could remove her cloak. "Minister Shacklebolt caught me while I was leaving work and he asked where I was going with all of these in the middle of the day!" She gestured to the bag full of paperwork and heavy books. "I had to pretend I was sick too so he wouldn't suspect I was coming to see you!"

Hermione laughed and grabbed the bag off the ground. It was as heavy as it looked and she had a hard time hoisting it onto her shoulder.

"Let me help you with that, Hermione! You're still sick!" Exclaimed Evelin after she had removed her cloak.

Hermione scoffed. "Nonsense! I have a cold; I'm not an invalid! C'mon, let's go to my office. Feel free to stop by the kitchen and grab yourself a drink." Evelin, who had been to Hermione's house before, took her up on her offer and quickly grabbed a glass of orange juice before hurriedly catching up to Hermione as she ascended the stairs.

They entered Hermione's office and Hermione set the bag of books down on the ground next to her desk. She cleared as much space as she could on her desktop and replaced the letters into the box and set it down underneath her desk. She would deal with those things later. But now, she had work to do as proven by the heavy bag Evelin brought.

For the rest of the day, the two women poured over the scrolls. Hermione felt good to be working again and the hours flew quickly as she read translation manuals and runic books. Her and Evelin worked well together; with the younger girl automatically grabbing supplementary textbooks from Hermione's bookshelves without being asked and they were the exact book Hermione needed. Their concentration was broken only when Evelin's stomach growled low and she insisted on staying even though Hermione urged it was not necessary. Since Hermione did want to work for longer and Evelin was great help, they broke for supper consisting of a pizza delivery and answered mail Hermione had received during her absence and which Evelin had brought with her (the owls knew she spent most of her time in the office, so even her personal mail was delivered there). They quickly got back to working after consuming their slices.

It was about 8:30pm when Hermione found her concentration waning. She could usually work well into the night, but she was sick after all so perhaps it was time to call it a day. She marked where she was in the book and closed it with a thud. "Ev, I think we should call it a night. I'm sorry for keeping you here but this cold is getting to my head and I can't concentrate anymore."

"No worries at all, Hermione!" Evelin chirped as she raised her head from the book she was reading. "Why don't you head to bed and I'll clean up here? I'll take these back to the Ministry since I need to grab some stuff from there anyway."

"Are you sure, Ev?" Hermione asked. The girl grinned and nodded her head. Hermione smiled gratefully. "You're an angel! Thank you so much. My head is starting to hurt and I think I do need to go to sleep. Make sure you take tomorrow off, okay? You're sick after all." Hermione said with a wink to which Evelin cheered. Hermione gave a nod goodbye and walked out of her office.

The following morning Hermione woke up with a clear head ready to tackle her day. Her headache had disappeared but her congested nose told her her cold wasn't yet gone. A look to her bedside clock told her it was only 7am (typical of her to wake up so early) and she got out of bed to take a bath.

An hour later she emerged from her bedroom dressed in leggings and an oversized jumper. She headed to her kitchen ready to make her breakfast when a pop alerted her of someone apparating into her home. There were only two people in the world who could bypass her wards and apparate inside, and since one of them was away on a trip to Russia, she knew with certainty who was in her living room.

With a smile, Hermione peaked her head from her kitchen door and saw two heads with bright red hair. One belonged to her best friend, Ron Weasley, and the other belonged to her very cute godson, Jackson Weasley, who was only two years old and sat perched on his dad's hip.

"Minny!" Jackson squealed at the sight of Hermione and extended his chubby arms towards her. Hermione laughed and walked towards the pair, ruffling Jackson's hair when she approached.

"Mr. Jackson! To what do I owe this pleasure, Weasleys?" Hermione asked and stood on her tiptoes to kiss Ron on the cheek, and then bent down to do the same to little Jackson who was now playing with her hair.

Ron grinned broadly. "Well, Lav is still away on her work trip so Jackson and I decided to visit our second favourite lady."

Hermione snorted. "Don't let Ginny or Molly catch you saying that. While I'm glad to have the two of you here, you thought to visit me at 8am in the morning?"

At this, Ron's eyes darted to the side and Hermione narrowed her gaze. She just knew that there was an ulterior motive to this visit. "C'mon Ron, what is it?"

Ron sighed and took Hermione to the couch where he sat her down. He gently sat Jackson on the floor and Accio'd his toys which Hermione kept in her home for their visits. "Well," Ron started, "I was making our breakfast this morning when the owl post came."

"Alright, and why is this something you have to tell me?"

Ron rolled his eyes at Hermione. "I'm not done yet! Anyway, I took the posts and saw that you sent me something."

Hermione's forehead wrinkled in confusion. "No, I didn't. Are you sure it was from me?"

"Yes, I'm sure Hermione. It was from you… it was your handwriting and it sounded so, well, you." Ron said with a small grin.

"That can't be right. The last letter I sent you was from a month ago when I was away on a holiday." Hermione replied with a frown. "Are you absolutely certain? What did it say?"

"Yes, I'm sure Hermione!" Ron said exasperatedly. "And it said… well, that's the weird thing. It said that you… me... augh, here! Just read it for yourself." Ron took the letter from his pocket and handed it to Hermione.

Hermione's breath caught in her throat when she saw the letter in her hands. It was the love letter she had written many, many years ago. She sprang from her seat and looked wide-eyed at Ron. "How… how did you get this?" Hermione asked weakly.

Ron shrugged. "Like I said, it was just sent to me and I got it in today's post. I reckon I was never supposed to have read it, huh?" He asked with a sly grin.

Hermione's face flamed and she held the letter to her chest. She slowly shook her head no. "I… I wrote it while we were still in school. I was so silly back then! I never meant to send any of them… oh SHIT!"

"Hermione!" Ron exclaimed and his head swerved to the little boy who was playing with his toys and oblivious to their conversation. "Sensitive ears, Hermione! Hang on… did you say them?"

But his question fell to deaf ears since Hermione had sprinted to the staircase and up to her office. Ron grabbed Jackson from the ground and followed behind.

Hermione threw her office door open. She stood at the doorway and looked inside. Evelin had done a good job cleaning up after the two of them; all of the books were back in their proper places and her tabletop was empty save from the round box placed right in the middle.

"Oh no, oh no, oh no…" Hermione whispered as she approached her desk. Closing her eyes and wishing to all the gods, Hermione pried the lid off of the box. Her little knick knacks were inside but the letters - her love letters - were missing. "Oh shit."

"And here I thought I was special!" She heard from behind her. She turned to see Ron leaning on her doorway, Jackson back propped on his hip. "Was I not the only recipient of your love letters?" He asked with a wide smile.

"Oh Ron, this isn't funny!" Hermione snapped. "I… I wrote them when I thought I was in love. They were never ever meant to be sent!"

Ron only laughed and approached Hermione. With one arm he gave her a hug. "Well, it made me feel very special," Ron answered honestly. "Who else did you write love letters to?"

But Hermione brushed off his question and grabbed the mobile phone stored in one of her desk drawers. She hit a series of familiar numbers and the groggy and sleepy voice of Evelin came on the other side. "Hello?"

"Ev! It's Hermione. I'm sorry for calling you so early in the morning when you have a day off."

"No worries at all, Hermione. Did you need anything?" Evelin asked, her voice sounding clearer from the other side.

"Just a quick question. There was a box with some letters behind my desk last night…"

"Oh yes! Those letters!" Evelin said. "I saw that they were addressed already while I was cleaning so I sent them out with the rest of your mail."

Hermione's face paled. "You… you sent them? All of them?"

"Yep!" Evelin said brightly. "Though I did wonder why Auror Potter had three addressed to him, but that's none of my business! I owled them when I got back into the office last night."

"Oh, alright." Hermione said weakly. "Thanks, Ev. Have a good day."

"You too, Hermione!"

Ron, who was standing close to Hermione and heard the conversation, couldn't help his next exclamation. "Harry?! You sent Harry three love letters?!"

"Oh shut up, Ron!" Hermione said, her face flaming again. "I need to get those letters back. He can't read them!"

"Would it really be so bad if Harry reads your letters?" Ron asked, his voice dropping to a normal decibel.

Hermione sighed. "Yes, Ron. He's my best friend. He can't know that I'm in love with him." She said plainly.

Ron grinned broadly and internally cheered at Hermione's revelation. For the past couple of years he's had an inclination that Hermione's feelings weren't so platonic towards their mutual best friend, but he dared not say anything towards her. He did, however, voice his opinions to his wife, and Lavender agreed.

"Hermione's in love with Harry. The way she looks at him makes me jealous," Lavender had said. "But Harry's far too thick to realize this unfortunately. They would make one fine couple, don't you think? The head of the Department of Mysteries and the Head Auror. Two thirds of the Golden Trio. The Man Who Saved and the Brightest Witch. It's like a match made in heaven. It's a shame it hasn't happened yet, really. I reckon - no, I'm absolutely positive - that he loves her too. Love, how would you feel if they got together?" To which Ron replied that he would be ecstatic because his two best friends deserve the very best for them and that would be each other. He found his soulmate in Lavender and it was about time that they did as well. But alas, like his lovely wife said, one was too thick and the other too scared. Ron was surprised to received the letter for sure, but finding out that a certain Auror was also a recipient was a twist he hadn't expected and he couldn't wait to see where it led.

"So what are you going to do?" Ron asked Hermione, who stood silently after her proclamation.

"I need to get those letters back!" Hermione said resolutely. "Ron, feel free to stay here with Jackson but I need to run!" With a wave, Hermione dashed out the door of her office and back down the stairs. She put on boots and a long wool coat before disapparating with a loud pop.

Ron, who had remained upstairs in her office, grinned at Jackson. "I think things are about to get very interesting between your godparents, Jack."

Hermione appeared inside Harry's house a second later. She, too, was one of the few people allowed to bypass his protective wards and apparate straight inside his home. The place was dark since its usual occupant wasn't home, but Hermione knew where everything was and within a moment all the lights turned on in the living room.

But Hermione didn't bother moving from the front door. She immediately turned so she was facing the door and knelt so she could gather the stack of letters piled high behind the mailslot.

"They're not here!" Hermione exclaimed almost desperately to the empty house as she rifled through the letters but found none of her own. With a sigh, Hermione stood from her place at the mailslot and padded across the living room to place the letters atop the dining room table.

There was only one other place where those letters could be, and it was the very same place Hermione had been forbidden to enter by her boss until she was all better. But the witch had no other option and so with a sniff of her nose and after turning off all the lights, Hermione Granger disappeared from Harry Potter's living room with another pop.

The British Ministry of Magic was alive with activity when Hermione appeared in one of its apparition stations by the one-eyed witch statue. It was barely 9am on a Friday morning and witches and wizards of all ranks were still arriving to work. As the head of the Department of Mysteries, Hermione received a lot of bows and greetings of acknowledgement from her colleagues though she did catch them eyeing her attire somewhat confusedly. She always showed up to work in neatly pressed dress suits and heels that her current attire of leggings and jumper was a clear deviation from her norm. There was no such thing as a "casual Friday" at the Ministry of Magic and Hermione felt wholly underdressed.

But her attire should not be her main concern and Hermione brushed the thought aside. She had a mission to accomplish and so with her head held high she marched to the lift and stood in queue. Murmurs of "Good morning, Madame Granger" and "Hullo, Miss Hermione" reached her ears and she gave each of her greeters a smile and a nod of her head.

Finally reaching the front of the queue, Hermione boarded the lift and its operator, Eustace, greeted her with a wide grin. "Well good morning, Madame Granger! I hope you're feeling better! Level nine, then?"

Hermione smiled at the older man who had been at the Ministry long before she started her role. "Good morning, Eustace! And no, I… I just needed to drop something off at Auror Potter's office so level two for me, please."

"Very well, Miss!" Eustace replied with a grin. More witches and wizards boarded the lift and told Eustace their destinations.

The lift doors closed and Hermione soon found herself at Level Two of the Ministry of Magic which housed the Department of Magical Law Enforcement. The Auror Office was at the very end of the hall and so Hermione quickly strode past the closed doors on either side of the aisle. Turning to her right, Hermione pushed open the large oaken doors and was greeted with the buzzing energy of the Auror Office.

The room was buzzing with activity. The majority of the large open space was filled with cubicles divided by low walls so Aurors could easily talk to one another and collaborate. One side was completely devoid of cubicles and instead had couches and a large chalkboard propped next to floor-to-ceiling bookcases where the Aurors could have informal meetings and brainstorm on cases. Another wall was divided into small rooms designated as meeting rooms while the far back of the space was where individual offices were located.

Hermione set her eyes on the largest office at the corner of the room when she was interrupted by a greeting coming from behind.

"Hermione!" She heard. Her head turned and she came face to face with none other than Neville Longbottom. Neville worked as the international ambassador for Minister Shacklebolt and was often away overseas.

"Neville! What are you doing here?" Hermione asked in surprise. She quickly gave Neville a hug and ushered him to the closest meeting room to avoid the prying ears of the Aurors outside.

"I was back in town this week and came to visit Harry. I was going to come by your house later in the day since Shacklebolt told me that you were still sick and resting at home, though I see that that might not be the case anymore." Neville responded with a grin.

"You're out of luck because Harry is away to a conference in Russia!" Hermione responded.

"So why are you here then?" Neville asked, his voice hinting that he knew something she didn't.

Hermione reddened. "Well, I… I was just going to drop something off…"

"Could your visit have something to do with this?" Neville cut her off in question. Reaching into the pocket of his dress robes Neville pulled out her love letter.

Hermione whimpered and buried her face into her hands. "Oh no - you received yours too?! I was hoping you hadn't gotten it yet since you said you just got back…"

Neville laughed. "Well I did stop by my office this morning first before looking for Harry and that was where I found this."

Hermione bit her lip. "Neville… let me explain…"

Neville grinned. "There's nothing to explain. You wrote this to me years ago, Hermione. And I have a feeling you didn't mean to send this out, huh?"

Hermione shook her head vigorously. "Not at all. They were meant for me to understand how I felt at that time. They were never, ever meant to be sent. I'm so embarrassed!"

Neville drew Hermione into a hug and patted her back. The two had always been friends at Hogwarts but had grown even closer when they started their careers together at the Ministry. "You made me feel special when I read this Hermione, and I know my eleven year old self would have been so happy to receive this too."

Hermione let out a long breath. "Well, I'm glad it made you feel special. But I need to get Harry's letters or our friendship is over!"

Neville laughed and released Hermione from the hug. He placed his hands on her shoulders and looked her in the eyes. "It'll be alright, Hermione. Would it really be that bad if Harry reads them?"

"Yes!" Hermione exclaimed. "Absolutely! It will be terrible if he finds out that I'm in love with him."

Neville held his surprise in at her declaration. Well, he always knew. He had a feeling that Hermione saw Harry as more than a friend ever since first year. And he had a feeling that Harry saw Hermione as more than a friend too; but they were in too much denial to admit to their feelings. Not to mention that there was always something going on that they had to concern themselves about (like a certain Dark Wizard and whatnot) that Neville figured they were far too busy to be in a serious relationship, much less a relationship with each other. Neville had almost given up hope for the two when Harry started dating this bird named Eliza two years after The Battle and Hermione, likewise, starting dating a bloke named Matthew. Both relationships seemed pretty serious but had fizzled out eventually after two years, with the relationships coming to an end just months apart from one another. Neville knew he wasn't the only one rooting for these two and he certainly hoped that this little slip up of Hermione's would finally bring them together.

"Good luck, Hermione." Neville said simply.

Hermione nodded her head and stood on her tiptoes to kiss Neville's cheek in goodbye. "Thank you, Neville! I'll see you later." With that, Hermione opened the door of the meeting room and reentered the main section of the Auror Office.

Greetings from many Aurors reached her ears as she walked towards Harry's office and Hermione tried her hardest to keep a smile on her face and return their greetings even though her inside was in turmoil. She really couldn't fathom the fallout that would occur if Harry ever found out that she was in love with him. She knew that all he ever saw of her was a friend and she didn't want to jeopardize that. She would much rather live in friendship with Harry than in nothing at all.

Just as she reached Harry's closed door, another voice calling her name from the side made her stop. "Hullo, Madame Granger! Did you need anything from Auror Potter's office?" Hermione looked to see Greta, Harry's assistant and fellow Auror, standing from her cubicle.

Hermione, whose hand was already on Harry's doorknob, retreated from the door with difficulty and walked towards Greta's desk. "Hello, Greta. And yes I need to... drop something off for Harry."

The other woman smiled widely and asked, "Oh! And what might that be?"

Hermione felt around in her pockets and her hand closed on a pack of gum she always kept with her. Inwardly wincing, Hermione withdrew the gum and waved it in the air for Greta to see. "He wanted gum. Now, is it alright to enter?"

Greta, who was a pure-blooded witch, didn't really know what gum was. But since she was in no position to question a department head any longer, and this gum didn't look suspicious or dangerous, she nodded at Hermione and waved her on towards Harry's closed door.

Hermione entered Harry's office with a sigh of relief and closed the door behind her. A flick of her wand illuminated the room with bright light. She always loved Harry's office. With her help, Harry made the room his own after his appointment as Head Auror. The walls were painted a rich burgundy red and the many awards and medals he had earned over the years comprised a gallery wall on one side. On another wall hung his old Firebolt next to a large bookcase with books on various subjects; the series separated with knick-knacks like an old Snitch and photo frames of Harry's closest friends. At the centre of the room was a large mahogany desk where a golden name plaque bearing Harry's name and title was sat. There was a tray of letters to one side of the desk next to a picture of Harry and Hermione from their last holiday together in Paris where they took a photo with the Eiffel Tower in the background.

Hermione immediately walked towards the tray and sifted through the letters that were in there. "Come on… come on…" She whispered as she prayed that the three letters that were accidentally sent to Harry were amongst the pile. Luck wasn't with her though when she reached the bottom of the pile and still she didn't come across her letters. Hermione groaned and fell on one of the plush chairs opposite Harry's desk. What was she going to do? She had already checked his home and his office but her letters remained lost. Surely the owl wouldn't track him down all the way to Russia to deliver the letters, right? Ministry owls usually weren't so eager to make long-haul deliveries. There was no way one of them would fly to Russia. At least, that was what Hermione told herself.

With a defeated sigh, Hermione stood from the seat and exited Harry's office. She gave a quick nod of goodbye to Greta and headed back down to the Atrium. Hermione went to the apparition point and with a pop she was gone.

Hermione was sat in her living room couch eating mint chocolate chip ice cream straight from the tub and watching a terrible romantic movie from her telly. After she had gotten home from the Ministry, Hermione tried to come up with the different scenarios that could unfold when Harry returned from his trip the following week.

She reasoned with herself that if, God forbid, Harry did receive those letters, she could pretend that she was under the influence when they were written. She knew this would be a tough sell since Hermione, at most, had only gotten tipsy while drinking and she had never done drugs before. But maybe she could say that she was under the influence of potions? Surely there was a potion out there whose side effect was making its drinker loopy and writing love letters to their friends, right? She made a note to research this.

Maybe she could Obliviate him? No, that wouldn't work either. He was the Auror and he would be far too fast for her to do a full Obliviate on him. Besides, she could accidentally wipe more than just the letters from his memory.

If denial wouldn't work and he truly believed that she was in love with him (which she was), then Hermione was ready to accept his rejection and beg that his newfound knowledge wouldn't affect their friendship. She would convince Harry that she would keep her feelings in check (which she had done over the years) and that nothing needed to be different. If he was okay with it, they could just go on with their lives as if those letters didn't exist.

But if Harry felt too awkward around her and didn't want to be her friend anymore… no, Hermione refused to go down that path. She squashed the thought and tried not to think about that particular scenario. That was how she found herself eating ice cream and watching a mind-numbing movie. Her concern now was how Marisa's and Chris' story would end.

Just as she was about to put another spoonful of ice cream into her mouth, her doorbell rang. It was probably the Chinese food she ordered for supper (since she really was in no mood to cook following her disastrous morning), so Hermione set the tub down and paused the movie. She grabbed her wallet from the centre table and padded towards the front door. She didn't bother looking at the peephole (and she would chastise herself about this later) before she yanked the door open ready to pay the delivery man for her food.

But instead of finding the delivery man, she found her best friend behind the door with her Chinese takeout bag in his hand. And no, not the redheaded one, but the other best friend who was supposed to be in Russia.

Harry Potter stood outside Hermione's home with a smirk on his face. He was dressed in all black with his long wool coat open to allow a glimpse of his attire underneath. Hermione swallowed at how sexy he looked. He had black slim fit trousers tucked underneath calf-high black boots. A black dress shirt was tucked underneath as well and molded over his very sculpted upper body. A slim black tie was tied at a knot around his neck and Hermione longed to drag him towards her with it. Black framed glasses were perched upon his nose and through the darkness Hermione could see his green eyes shining. His black hair was its usual mess and fell over his forehead slightly covering his lightning bolt scar and Hermione wanted so badly to run her hand through it and make it even more messy.

"Harry," she squeaked in greeting. "What… what are you doing here? Shouldn't you still be in Russia?"

Instead of answering her question, Harry stepped towards the door causing Hermione to step back further inside her home with a little eep. "Hermione," he said, his voice low and his eyes never leaving her face. "Shouldn't you be letting me in? I've got your dinner after all."

"Oh… oh right! Of course. Come in, Harry," Hermione said, and quickly scurried to the side so Harry could get inside. Harry stepped in and closed the door with his foot. There was silence. Hermione was biting her lip ferociously not knowing what to say until Harry handed her the takeout bag to which she squeaked a thank you.

As if there wasn't any tension in the air, Harry took his leisurely time getting settled in. He removed his coat and hung it on the coat rack behind where Hermione was standing, making him reach around her and Hermione scurrying away to the other side. Next he removed his cufflinks (Hermione noticed it was the one she gifted him a couple birthdays ago) and rolled the sleeves of his dress shirt to his elbows. Hermione gulped and stared intently at the flex of his biceps. A strong hand came to the knot at his neck and Harry loosened his tie and undid the top-most button. Lastly, Harry bent down and removed his boots since Hermione hated having dirt tracked inside her home. He stepped towards her again and Hermione backed away, but Harry only grabbed the bag from her hands and walked towards her dining room table. He set the bag down on the tabletop and walked to her kitchen to grab some plates and cutlery from her cupboards. He set the table and prepped the food while Hermione stood gaping at him by the front door.

"Hermione, aren't you going to eat? Your food is going to get cold," Harry said and gestured at the spread he had prepared.

Hermione slowly walked towards the dining room table but she stopped halfway through. No, she thought. This was weird. Why would he suddenly turn up here all of a sudden when he still had a week left to go in Russia? Unless… did this mean that he received her letters? And was this his way of rejecting her?

"Harry," she said firmly. "I will not eat until you tell me why you're here!" Hermione had to resist stomping her foot on the floor.

With two long strides Harry was stood in front of Hermione and with both arms around her waist. He gently pulled her body close and Hermione stiffly allowed herself to be hugged. Her breath caught in her throat at the feel of his fingers tracing patterns on her back. She could feel her body melting in his touch.

"H-Harry… what are you doing?" She whimpered.

Harry tsked and gave a small laugh. From her place on his chest, Hermione could hear his laughter echo and it filled her with warmth. "For the 'Brightest Witch of the century' you sure do ask a lot of unnecessary questions. I'm hugging you, Hermione. And before you ask why, it's because I missed you."

At his words, Hermione gasped and she jerked her head up from resting on his chest to look at him. Those emerald eyes captured her brown orbs and they locked gazes with one another.

"You missed me? Oh, but Harry! You shouldn't have left the conference! You could've just flooed me or something! Or had sent an owl -"

Hermione's tirade was cut short by Harry's lips pressing against hers.

Hermione had imagined this moment a million times before, but they were nothing compared to the real thing. Harry's lips were soft - really soft - and they felt like heaven as they pushed against her own. She felt something gently pushing against her lips and she parted them slightly to allow entrance to his tongue. And oh gosh, she was snogging Harry Potter! Her best friend! She, Hermione Jane Granger, was making out with Harry James Potter!

Her brain finally caught up to what was happening and she gently moved her head back to break their liplock. Her eyes were filled with confusion and she felt a tingle travel down her spine as she caught Harry looking at her so intensely. She tried to move away from his embrace but his strong arms held her close and they showed no signs of letting go.

"Harry… what… why…" Hermione stammered, the words unable to form in her lips. Her brain was racing a mile a minute trying to figure out what was happening but Harry's gorgeous face which was slowly moving towards her again was very distracting.

He laid his forehead on top of hers and nuzzled her nose with his. His lips were just a breath away from her own. Every word he spoke next was the lightest of kisses. "Because I've been wanting to know how you tasted. Because I've been wanting to kiss you for a while now."

And kiss her he did because Harry stole her lips again before she had a moment to speak. This time Hermione allowed herself to get lost. She thought of nothing but felt everything. She felt his hands gripping her tightly. One hand had sneaked underneath her jumper and a finger was tracing patterns on her skin. The other hand was tangled in her hair cradling her head gently. She felt the movement of his chest as he drew ragged breaths against her front and her body reacted instinctively and pushed her own breasts against him. And god, his lips. She felt his lips molding against her own with breathtaking passion. She let out a little sigh when they broke briefly to breathe but Harry latched onto her bottom lip and sucked causing her to groan.

Hermione was utterly lost in Harry Potter.

"Mint," Harry whispered after he broke away. Hermione's eyes were closed and her lips were still parted.

"Mmhm?" Hermione asked. Her eyes opened and all she saw was his face.

"Mint," Harry said, his eyes bright. "You taste like mint."

As if it were possible for Hermione to get any redder, her face flamed. "O-oh… that's right," she stammered. "I was eating mint chocolate chip ice cream before I answered the door and you… you…"

"Before I barged in here and kissed you?" Harry asked, his lips twitching. Hermione's face coloured and she nodded slowly.

Harry, suddenly turning serious, said, "Hermione, we need to talk." His arms unwound from her waist and he took hold of her hand. He pulled her towards the couch and sat her down next to him, his hand never letting hers go.

"I think we do, Harry," Hermione whispered. "What brought this on? Why did you… why did you kiss me?"

Harry ran a hand through his hair and sprang from his seat. He started to pace in front of the couch and Hermione watched him, worry and confusion etched on her face.

"Well you see, Hermione, I was having dinner with fellow Aurors after a conference in Moscow when a ministry owl came flying through the window and interrupted our meal," Harry said. Hermione's face paled at the mention of an owl. "And what did this owl have, you ask? Well, it was carrying three letters addressed to me. And they were all from you."

"Harry, Ev accidentally sent them. They were never meant to be sent to anybody -"

"I'm not done yet, Hermione. This owl wouldn't leave and was causing quite a scene since it was adamant that I open the letters right away. It must have thought that the letters were important since they were sent from you, the head of the Department of Mysteries, to me, Head Auror," Harry explained.

Hermione's face, which was red just ten minutes ago from the lip Olympics they had, was slowly turning paler and paler. Her heart was sinking. Her worst fear had been realized, it seemed, and Harry had shown up to her house to set her straight. The kisses were probably just a parting gift. It was Harry's way of giving her something for the feelings he could never reciprocate. And she accepted that. If their friendship was to end because of her revelation, at least she would have the memory of them in her living room wrapped up in each other's arms.

"And do you know how I felt after I read your letters?" Harry asked. Hermione shook her head silently. "I was furious. I was so unbelievably angry," Harry stated, his voice cutting through the silence.

Hermione hadn't expected this. She expected him to feel confused, as one would normally feel after receiving love letters. She expected him to feel awkward or uncomfortable. She expected him to feel pity for her; sorry for her that he couldn't return her feelings. She expected him to be sad as well; mournful for the friendship that would never be the same again. She expected worry to be there too. But anger? That wasn't something Hermione had considered and she felt indignant that he was angry at her for her feelings.

Harry, who was going to continue his monologue, was captivated by the changes he could see on Hermione's face. She was red at first, and then turned pale when he said he received the letters. But now, she was red again and her chest puffed up ready to explode. She sprang from her seat and approached him determinedly.

"Harry Potter! You came all the way here to tell me that you're angry with me? Well I'm sorry that you found out the way you did but you have no right to barge into my home and tell me you're angry at me for feeling what. I. Feel!" Hermione exploded, punctuating the last three words with a jab of her finger at Harry's chest. Tears were gathering at the corner of her eyes and she took deep breaths to keep them at bay. Well, that was it. Her friendship with Harry was surely over. How could they ever repair the fallout of this night and go back to how things were before? The answer was they couldn't. She was a fool for even thinking, for even hoping, that it was possible for them to remain their same old selves around each other after her revelation.

Harry was speechless. How did she… how could she arrive at that conclusion?

After a minute of silence, Harry whispered. "You silly witch."

He enclosed Hermione's fist resting on his chest with his hand. "I wasn't angry at you. I was angry at myself for being such a daft git this whole time."

The whiplash caused by his statement dumbfounded Hermione.

"W-What?" she asked.

Harry guided Hermione's arms around his waist and he snaked his arms around her. He pulled her close and buried his face into her curls. She smelled like a combination of vanilla and a scent so distinctly Hermione.

"I was mad at myself for not realizing what I should have known before," Harry started. He closed his eyes and wished that he doesn't fudge up the next few words that left his mouth. "Because… because your letters was the confirmation that I needed to finally voice what I have felt for the past couple of years."

"What are you saying, Harry?" Hermione asked, pulling away slightly so she could look at him. There was a fire burning behind those green eyes and Hermione was warmed to her core as she held his gaze. A bubble of hope was rising in her chest and her mind raised to try and make sense of what he had said.

Harry took a breath and the words flew effortlessly from his mouth. "I love you, Hermione," he whispered. Hermione's eyes widened but she couldn't look away from Harry's face. She was captivated by his smouldering eyes. "I'm in love with you. I've always loved you. I was scared of ruining our friendship that I didn't say anything before until I got your letters and realized that you felt the same way."

Telling her was easy, Harry marvelled, and his hold on Hermione got tighter. Telling her felt so right. There was no trepidation, no hesitation. Not only that, but all of this felt right. The feel of her body pushed against his. Their kiss from earlier (which he was looking forward to again). His hands clamped tight around her waist and her arms wound around his neck. Harry felt truly and utterly complete.

Hermione, meanwhile, felt so blown away by his declaration. That bubble in her chest burst and her entire body felt warm with hope and anticipation and happiness. This time, it was her who initiated the kiss. She stood on her tiptoes and pulled Harry's head to meet hers. There was no more doubt in her system. She knew with all of her being that Harry told her the truth.

Harry James Potter loved her, Hermione Jane Granger.

Her best friend loved her.

He was in love with her.

Harry was in love with her.

Happy tears pooled at the corner of her eyes but Hermione concentrated on their kiss. I love you so much Harry, Hermione thought as she molded her lips against his. She could feel his arms tighten around her, bringing her ever closer, and her hands clutched his already messy hair.

This was bliss. This was heaven. Harry returned her kiss with equal fervor. How could he be so foolish before? So blind? How could he not see that this beautiful witch was in love with his sorry arse?

"We were idiots," Hermione mumbled against his lips when they broke for air. "I should've known. I can't even fathom how much time we've wasted -"

"Shhh," Harry whispered and kissed her again. "No more. We know now and that's all that matters. I love you, Hermione."

"I love you too, Harry."

Their kisses were sweet and Harry's hand was snaking higher and higher up her back underneath her jumper. A second hand joined its twin and soon one hand was grasping her bare waist while the other was trailing up her spine. Hermione's mind went foggy and she busied herself by clutching onto his already messy hair.

Harry's mouth left her lips and trailed kisses down her neck. Hermione drew a breath in when he bit and sucked. Harry looked at the mark on her neck with satisfaction.

"You're beautiful," he said. "And… and I want to see more of you, if that's alright?" He asked in a whisper.

A little part of Hermione knew it would be too early, but she didn't care. She had waited for so long for this, hoped so hard for this, that she couldn't find a reason to tell Harry no. Besides, they loved each other and isn't that more than enough?

And so Hermione took the initiative. She stepped back from Harry and grasped the bottoms of her jumper and removed it in one swoop. Harry's breath caught in his throat when he looked at her bare skin. Her skin looked so smooth and so soft. His eyes travelled from her shapely hips to her narrow waist and up to her breasts encased in a simple black bra.

"Absolutely gorgeous," he said and placed his hands on her hips again.

Hermione blushed and played with his tie. "And not entirely fair. I'm here half-naked and you're still fully clothed."

"Feel free to do the honours."

With more bravery than she had ever felt before, Hermione began to undress Harry. First she removed his tie, and then slowly unbuttoned his shirt from the neck down. As her hands trailed down his front, Harry's breath drew ragged. Her light fingertips on his skin sent little shockwaves of pleasure over his entire body. As the last of the buttons was undone and Hermione pulled away his shirt fully, Hermione allowed herself to look at Harry.

And my god was he a sight.

She had seen Harry topless before and in less clothing, of course (they had gone on plenty of tropical vacations), but not in such a close proximity. He wasn't overly muscular but his rigorous Auror training and leisurely Quidditch playing greatly contributed to this specimen in front of her. He was lean and muscular in all the right places. A sharp jaw, sculpted shoulders, strong biceps, and chiselled abs greeted her eyes. Before she could even think, Hermione placed her hands on his bare chest and crushed her lips into his again.

This time was different. While before their kisses were still tentative and sweet, this time it was heated. Hands were everywhere. Her hair was everywhere. They fell onto her couch and Harry was on top of her. Her hands had a mind of their own and the next thing she knew she had taken Harry's trousers off. They tried to wrestle her leggings off until Harry muttered a spell and in an instant they were gone. Hermione was so lost and in bliss.

"I want you, Harry," she whispered from underneath him.

Harry growled low at her words and latched onto his mark on her body and licked it. "I want you too. But not here."

A loud pop was heard throughout her home as Harry disapparated them from her couch and apparated them into her bed upstairs. Hermione gasped when she felt her soft sheets on her bare back.

"So beautiful," Harry whispered from his place above her. And she really was. Her curls were splayed on her bed like a halo. Her milky white skin seemed to be glowing in contrast to the dark lavender colour of her sheets. Her last remaining clothing consisting of her bra and panties were both black and acted like marks on the last two places Harry wanted to discover.

Harry undid the front clasp of her bra and allowed the cups to fall away from her breasts. Like her they were perfection. They weren't too big and Harry tested their weight and size by cupping her right breast with his hand causing Hermione to moan. They fit perfectly into his hands. Her nipples, which were already hard from before, begged to be licked and so Harry did just that. He bent his head and captured her right nipple into his mouth. He sucked and he licked and he bit gently throwing Hermione into a fit of ecstasy.

"Yes, Harry," she breathed and clutched at his hair to keep him from moving away.

He rewarded the other nipple with the same ministrations and played with the first with his fingers. Hermione was moaning and groaning underneath him and every sound she was making caused an electric shock in his body. His groin was painfully hard but he concentrated on making Hermione feel good. He wanted to show her just how much he loved her and he would do that by worshipping her body.

Harry left her beasts and trailed kisses down her torso. He toyed with her navel for a bit and continued his journey south. Her underwear was his last obstacle which he quickly overcame by another whispered spell to vanish it. Harry was more glad than ever to know wandless magic.

And her sex, just like the rest of her, was beautiful. Hermione kept herself neatly groomed and Harry appreciated her efforts. As if driven by a need so dire, Harry placed his lips onto her sex and tasted.

And she tasted so sweet that he couldn't get enough. So he placed each of Hermione's thighs onto his shoulders and held onto her bum to bring her even closer to his mouth. Harry sucked and licked and he tasted her. His tongue found her little bundle of nerves and flicked. He reached a hand around and inserted a finger into her sex as he continued his play with his tongue. Hermione, who at this point was writhing and clutching onto her sheets and moaning his name, screamed and erupted in orgasm. Her legs locked around his head and she came breathing his name and he drank greedily.

"Oh Harry, please… please..." Hermione moaned while still in her high. Harry's finger had been joined by another and he didn't stop. They were pumping in and out of Hermione rhythmically as he sucked on her nub and Hermione felt herself climbing again.

"Tell me what you want, Hermione," Harry whispered. A third finger joined in and Hermione just about lost her mind.

"You! I want you in me, Harry," Hermione moaned. "Please make love to me."

Harry growled. Quickly dislodging his fingers from Hermione, he gently removed her legs from his shoulders and set them down around him on the bed. Another bit of wandless magic disappeared his boxers and Hermione gasped at the sight of his penis. He was long and thick and hard. His tip was already weeping with precum and Hermione's hand, which was clutching onto her sheets, inched towards him. Harry took both of her hands and pinned them above her head.

"If you touch me right now, I'll explode," Harry said, his eyes hazy but his lips twitching to a grin. "Let me do this."

"Okay," Hermione whispered.

"Are we safe?" Harry asked.

Hermione had to smile at his question. "We are."

"And you're… you're absolutely sure you want this?"

"Yes, Harry," Hermione replied instantly. There was no hesitation in her reply; only trust. She tugged her hand from his clutches and held his cheek. "I love you so much. Please show me that you love me too."

So he did. Harry positioned his penis into her entrance and entered slowly. They moaned simultaneously.

Harry was in bliss. She was so warm, so soft, and so wet around him. He held himself steady as he waited for her to get accustomed to his shaft.

Hermione never felt more alive. Never in a million years did she think that her and Harry would be connected so intimately like this. She had certainly imagined it and had more than a few dreams of this very thing, but she didn't think it would actually happen. He felt so good in her. He was so big and so hard and she could feel him twitching inside her that it was driving her crazy. She lifted her hips and thrusted.

Her action seemed to flip a switch in Harry and he started to thrust into her. Slowly at first and he bent his head to capture her bruised lips in a kiss. God, he could never tire of this. This was heaven. She was heaven and they fit together perfectly.

His actions were unmending Hermione. She was writhing in pleasure on the bed, her hands clutching Harry's shoulders as he moved against her. "Harry… oh Harry," she moaned. "Yes, yes, please, more…" She mumbled unintelligently.

Fuelled by her sounds and her warmth and her scent, Harry sped up his thrusting. He was so close to exploding but he needed her to cum first. He trailed sloppy kisses down her neck and sucked on her skin. One hand went to play with a nipple while he latched his mouth onto her ear and licked.

"Cum for me, Hermione," he whispered before biting on the flesh of her earlobe.

That was her undoing. Hermione screamed his name and she fell from her high. The squeeze of her sex around him as she came was the last straw for Harry as well. He moaned loudly and exploded inside her. His thrusts turned messy as they both rode out their orgasms.

Harry collapsed against Hermione and held her tenderly in his arms; her back to his chest. He buried his face into the crown of her hair and pulled her body close. Their breaths were coming in short gasps and their bodies were covered in a sheen of sweat. Pillows had been strewn on the floor and her bed was in such disarray but Hermione didn't care. Their congress was perfect and she wouldn't have it any other way. He was the perfect lover and she felt positively ravished.

"I love you so much, Hermione," she heard him whisper from behind her. Slowly she turned to face him and was rewarded with Harry's face looking at her with so much warmth and joy.

Her hand went to his cheek and she smiled so bright that Harry thought she was glowing.

"I love you too, Harry."

Hermione woke up feeling hot and hungry. She was on her side resting her head on a bent arm. She was half covered by her sheets and she saw her bare hip and bare leg peeking out from underneath. Her eyes widened when she remembered the events of last night. She was waiting for her dinner when Harry surprised her and they…

Hermione blushed.

He kissed her and then they confessed their feelings to one another. They made love on her bed after he apparated them into her room (which, now that Hermione had more time to think about it, was incredibly sexy), took a shower together where they made even more love, before finally retiring to bed where they fell asleep in each other's arms.

As if reminding her that she hadn't eaten in more than twelve hours, her stomach growled. The arm around her waist tightened and drew her closer to the source of the heat being the body behind her. A muscular leg was thrown over hers and a face nuzzled the back of her hair.

"Good morning," the tired and sleepy voice of Harry Potter drifted to her ears.

Hermione turned to her other side and her heart almost melted at the sight. Harry's green eyes were hazy with sleep and his hair was sticking out in all directions.

"Good morning Harry," she whispered. Hermione brought a hand to his face and traced patterns on his cheek.

"I'm awake and not dreaming, right?" Harry asked with a sleepy smile.

Hermione returned his smile and shook her head. "You're awake."

"Good," Harry replied. He captured her lips in a sweet kiss and sighed. "God, I love you so much. I can't stop thinking about it nor can I stop saying it."

"I never want you to stop," Hermione said. For a minute they just held each other in silence, consumed by their own thoughts and content with being with one another.

Hermione giggled all of a sudden and Harry looked curiously at the witch.

"What're you giggling at?" He asked and poked her at the hip.

Hermione bit her lip and eyed him playfully. "I reckon I should give Evelin a raise, huh?"

Harry laughed at her question and only drew her closer to him. "And an extra long holiday! You can charge it to my department."

"Oh shush, Harry! It's still embarrassing. Thankfully the others didn't give me a hard time about the letters -"

Hermione was suddenly flipped to her back and Harry hovered above her with one hand on either side. His eyes were flashing and his lips were stretching to a sly grin.

"Who are the others, Hermione? You never did tell me about them," Harry asked. Hermione blushed and she shook her head furiously.

"That's not important, Harry," Hermione urged.

"On the contrary, I think it is," Harry said. He bent his head and started to trail kisses down the column of her throat. Hermione's body immediately reacted and she held her head back exposing more of her neck to him. Harry kissed his way to the mark he made on her neck the night before and licked. "C'mon Hermione, who are -"

Harry was interrupted by a loud banging at Hermione's front door. There was unintelligible yelling coming from the other side. The two looked at each other in confusion and Harry muttered a Sonorus to amplify the sound.

"Herm-own-ninny!" A familiar voice filled the room. "Herm-own-ninny! Let me in! I just got your letter! I lo -"

"Silencio," Harry muttered and the voice drifted to nothingness. Harry looked down disbelievingly at Hermione who was turning so red. "Viktor Krum? You wrote a love letter to Viktor Krum?!"

"It was from fourth year!" Hermione reasoned. "I had completely forgotten about him until two days ago!"

"Damn right you forgot about him!" Harry growled playfully and captured her lips in a fierce kiss.

Hands turned more playful and the kisses grew more intense and Harry made Hermione forget about more things than Viktor Krum that morning as they lost themselves in happiness, passion, and, above all, love.

Dear Harry,

I broke up with Matthew today. It's been a little past two years and while I grew to care for Matthew, I realized I could never love him in the way he deserved to be loved. My heart belongs to only one person and it doesn't seem like I could ever change that.

I thought I could move on after you introduced us to Eliza because at that point I knew that your relationship was serious. I was convinced that I could learn to love somebody else. Imagine my frustration when it became clear that this was something I could not just simply learn. I loved Matthew, but it was the same love that I had for Ron or one of the Weasleys.

It was no comparison to how much I love you.

And I know this is silly, because it seems like you're very much in love with Eliza, but I just can't help it. I realized now that no matter what I do, now matter how much I try, I can never love somebody else as much as I love you.

I hope that this is my last love letter to you. At this point I am one hundred percent certain of my feelings and the extent of these feelings for you.

You were the first and you are the last. I sincerely wish you all the happiness in the world with whomever you love, be it Eliza or another lucky woman, and know that I will always be with you in whatever capacity you wish from me.

I love you, Harry.

Love,

Hermione

Fin.

Author's Note: Credits go to JK Rowling and Jenny Han for the characters and the inspiration. This was just a little fluffy one-shot (maybe a future two-shot for more fun? who knows) that had been brewing in my head as I work on Semper Fidelis. I hope you enjoyed it!

And as for Semper Fidelis, apologies are due for I haven't updated in a month! The holiday festivities got too intense and I did not have time to write or edit due to work, shopping for presents, holiday dinners and parties, and life in general. I hope you all had a very happy holidays celebrating with your loved ones and I sincerely wish your new year would be better than the last! Updates are coming and things are about to get interesting.

Once again, thank you for all of your support! Your reviews are greatly appreciated it. Cheers!