We All Make Mistakes - A Harmony one-shot

"What do you mean...it was a fucking mistake?"

"Is the language really necessary, Ron?"

"Yes, I think it bloody well fucking is!" Ron spat angrily. "After all this time...six months...you tell me it was a mistake? I think bad language should be the least you should have expected!"

Hermione cast a Shield Charm between them as Ron took a step towards her. It was so powerful it forced him back three feet.

Ron slapped his hand hard against the shimmering barrier, which resonated with Hermione's magic, stinging Ron like a electric shock. "Is this really necessary?"

"Well, you just said yourself," said Hermione, folding her arms sternly. "Bad language should be the least of my expectations. Don't think I missed your poorly veiled least I should be worried about threat, either. Don't forget Ron, I'm much cleverer than you."

"And I suppose that's just another reason why kissing me was a mistake, is it?" Ron hissed, his nostrils flaring.

"I hadn't considered it, but now you mention it...yeah, it is," Hermione returned smoothly. "But in any case, my Shield Charm is staying up. You don't have the magical skill to break through it. But, if I drop it, you could easily step through and punch me in the head. I can see the idea is in your mind."

"You really think I would hit you?" asked Ron, genuinely shocked.

"In that mood, yes I do," Hermione returned without ceremony. Ron looked like she'd slapped him.

"Don't you think I have the right to be angry?" Ron proffered, bitterly. "After you've strung me along for the last six months?"

"Do you think that being angry gives you the right to physically assault me?" Hermione countered.

"No...of course I don't, but -"

"There's no but, Ron," Hermione interrupted. "You either don't, unequivocally, or you're a witch-beating bigot. Pick one."

"I'd never hit a witch, never."

"I should hope not," said Hermione. "But forgive me if I don't take your word on that. Your mouth is writing cheques your eyes don't seem to want to cash."

"I'm angry, and hurt," said Ron. "You've broken my heart, Mione."

"Don't call me that! I fucking hate being called that!" Hermione spat viciously. "And I never promised you anything, Ron! I didn't string you along. I don't know what you've been expecting, I really don't."

"You kissed me, you'd been all pissy about me and Lavender," said Ron. "I expected you to be my girlfriend. That's the next step in my book."

"Then you need to throw that book away," said Hermione. "Yes, I kissed you. It was heat of the moment, and I thought maybe, maybe, I might fancy you. I'd missed you when you stormed off and just left me and Harry to it with the Horcruxes. I was very emotional...and I just acted out. But I knew it was wrong as soon as I did it."

Ron huffed angrily. "Because of Harry's look..."

"Yes, because of Harry's look," said Hermione, unabashed. "And because I came to realise...you left us during the fucking hunt for the Horcruxes! I could never be with a man who'd so easily abandon his friends, let alone abandon me, just because he got into a strop, or the going got a little tougher than he expected. And I told you...after Fred's funeral...to give me time. Time to think about it, to sort my head and heart out. And that's exactly what I've been doing...but you haven't kept to your side of the bargain."

"I love you, Mio...Hermione," Ron moaned. "You couldn't possibly expect me to just leave you alone?"

"That's exactly what I expected you to do!" Hermione cried angrily. "Because it's what I'd asked you to do. I was searching for my parents - Australia is a big place, you know - and that was my priority. I didn't want to think about anything else. But every day...Floo Messages...my two-way mirror rattling every hour with another call...owls...in bloody Australia, Ron! Do you have any idea how long a journey that is for those poor birds? Of course you don't...it doesn't affect you so why be concerned? You were hounding me, pestering me! I wanted space...to think...all you did was smother me. And I was on the other side of the world!"

"I didn't want you to forget me, forget what had happened between us," Ron bitched.

"Nothing had happened between us! It was one kiss! And, as I think I've said quite clearly, it was a mistake! But you just went on and on at me about it."

"Ginny said it was what she'd want, if it was her," Ron protested weakly.

Hermione laughed mirthlessly. "And you plotted your wooing strategy on the basis that me and Ginny are the same? We aren't even remotely, alike. This just shows how little you really know me! That's why we aren't friends, Ron...Ginny and I just have nothing in common. Zero. Zip. Oh...this is just rich."

"You might have met some Aussie surfer and got yourself shacked up," said Ron, ploughing on regardless. "I had to make you see what I had to offer, make you understand that we were perfect for each other!"

"Oh sweet, Merlin, Ron! Will you listen to yourself?" Hermione laughed, genuinely this time. "I love you, as a friend, but let's be real here...you have nothing to offer me...romantically, intellectually, as an equal on any basis that relationships should be founded on. We are as far from perfect as two people can possibly be! We row, we fight, we would have a miserable life together. We'd both be so unfilled. Part of you knows that, too."

"That hurt."

"It was necessary," said Hermione. "Because this has to be put to sleep right now. You have an eye for a certain type of girl - busty, Quidditch players to be blunt. I'm nothing like that. And I'm not into you like that, either. I prefer dark, brooding types. I did meet a wizard like that out in Canberra. We had a great few dates, it never went any further than hot and heavy kissing, but he was my kind of guy. He gave me his Floo Address and everything."

"You fucking slag!"

Hermione huffed. "Do you know the best thing about that story?"

"What? An image for your wank bank?" Ron hissed nastily.

"No...the fact that it showed your true colours," said Hermione silkily. "Because none of it was true. I spent the whole time searching for my parents. Dating and sex...Merlin, Ron, you're so one-dimensional."

"Hermione, you can't do this to me, you can't break my heart like this," said Ron desperately. "Not because of a look Harry gave you. He might not even like you back. He never said he did."

Hermione's heart ached at the truth of Ron's words. But she stayed firm. "This isn't about Harry.Well...it is, obviously...but it's about me, first and foremost. I don't love you, Ron. Not in the way you want me to. And I can't be with a man I don't love. I'm sorry to be breaking your heart, but you wouldn't want to be with me under those circumstances either. You might not think so today, but you will."

"And Harry will get you under the right circumstances, then, will he?" Ron cried bitterly.

"If he wants me, yes," said Hermione simply.

Ron paused a moment. "What...so you don't know that, then?"

"No, I've not heard from Harry for six months."

Ron hissed angrily. "Oh, fucking perfect Potter! He was a good boy, was he? Did as he was told and left you alone, I suppose?"

Hermione sighed in her exasperation. "He respected my wishes - to be given time alone - if that's what you mean, yes."

"So you have no idea if he likes you back or not?" asked Ron. "And you're going to give up on me for that?"

"I'm not giving up on you, Ron!" cried Hermione, her vexation reaching fever pitch. "There's nothing to give up...I never wanted you in the first place!"

"But you want Harry?"

"Yes! How much clearer can I spell that out for you? Shall I cast an actual spell to get it into your head? I've always wanted Harry! And you know that perfectly well. You could have written the book on How To Be The Jealous Best Friend!"

"And why shouldn't I be? What's Harry got that I haven't?"

Hermione narrow her eyes into a nonplussed look. "Do you really want to go there? I don't think you do. It wont make pretty hearing for you."

Ron huffed in fury again. "I just can't believe you're doing this...when you have no idea about his feelings at all."

"I have some idea," said Hermione quietly.

She smiled wildly to herself. She could remember that heartbroken look in his eyes on the night of the Battle, when he watched her making the mistake of kissing Ron, the sadness in his expression when she asked him not to contact her in Australia, the way he held onto her just a moment more than he should have when she eventually left him... the way his lips lingered on her cheek in that goodbye kiss...that he initiated. She'd make it all up to him. Harry was starting to understand what she meant to him...he might have gotten there by now...

Hermione knew it all meant something. Something monumental, for them both. And she was going to do what she should have done years ago - offer him an alternative to Ginny. Offer it tonight, before it was too late. She was going to offer Harry...her.

"You can't do this, Hermione, you just can't," said Ron, pacing, staring across the abyss of defeat. "It's not just my heart you're breaking...It's my mum's. She's been through enough. This might tip her over the edge."

"Ron...that is disgustingly unfair," Hermione complained vehemently. "To guilt trip me into being with you...on account of your mum's grief over Fred...that's low...really low."

"It's not about Fred," Ron returned. "Though, that doesn't help anything. I'm talking about Ginny."

Hermione paused, confused. "Ginny? What's happened to her?"

"Well...Harry didn't get back with her, did he?" said Ron bluntly. "Broke her heart in half."

Hermione's heart stopped beating a moment, then flew to restless pounding a second later. She felt she mindless, on the verge of losing consciousness, as her breath sped in her lungs.

"H-he didn't?"

"No, he led her right up the garden path, just like you did with me. Actually, you two are perfect for each other..."

Well, Hermione wasn't going to disagree with that. But now didn't seem the right time to voice such an opinion.

"When did that happen?" asked Hermione.

"Week after you left," said Ron, scuffing his shoe on the carpet. "Gin was devastated. Begged him to change his mind. But he didn't. He was cold as stone. Mum got really upset...I mean, really upset. The three of them had a huge bust-up. Mum accused Harry of taking advantage of Ginny, offering her all her dreams, then snatching them away from her, which was totally right."

"You agreed with that Thestral shit, did you?" Hermione arrowed at him

"I was there, we both were. I watched him do it, so of course I agreed," said Ron. "Harry was such a cunt about it. Didn't even say sorry. Didn't give a fuck about what Ginny wanted, about what Mum wanted. Robbed a wife of a husband, a mother of a new son. And she'd just lost one of her own."

"You heartless, thoughtless twat, Ronald Weasley!" Hermione breathed angrily. "How dare you stand there and spout shite like that...how fucking dare you!"

Hermione's anger was so fierce it spilled out of her and shattered the Weasley's clock, which was a pity, as she'd have quite liked to have seen the hand for Ron swing to Mortal Peril...for she felt sure she was going to kill him this afternoon.

"What?" Ron protested.

"What Ginny wants...what your mum wants..." Hermione panted. Her heart was going at a hundred miles an hour. Veins were popping in her temples. "What about what Harry wants? He's supposed to be your best friend? Look at all he's been through in his life, all that utter shit and pain and abuse! All to save everyone else...including you and your mother and your bucket-fannied sister! Does that count for nothing for you? You selfish little cunt!"

"Oh, so Harry saves the world and that entitles him to everything, does it?" Ron spat back acidly.

"Well, yeah, if you like!" Hermione cried incredulously. "He's given the rest of us freedom and safety and a chance at happiness...personally I think he's entitled to expect a bit of that himself, don't you?"

"He could have had it with Ginny."

"Clearly, he didn't want it with Ginny, did he? You thick, ginger, wizard pikey!" Hermione yelled in her rage. "Otherwise he'd be with her."

"Well he's not with you, either!" Ron volleyed back. "And why would he want to be? Plain, boring, bossy, not a tit in sight...dirty blood. Don't get your hopes up...Mione."

"Go and fuck yourself, Ron," said Hermione, heartsore from the sting of Ron's insults. "Where is Harry anyway? Do you even know?"

"How the fuck should I know? And why should I care? He had the fight with Gin and Mum...stormed off after that...said he wouldn't speak to any of the family ever again. And, the one thing you've got to give Harry credit for, he's a man of his word. I've just left him to it."

Hermione felt heartsick at the words. A cold tickle of horror coursed through her. "Then...he's been on his own for six months?"

"Oh no," said Ron, his mouth twisting into a cruel sneer. "He's been kept company...by lots of pretty witches. Lots and lots. He's always on some date or another. Witch Weekly has a whole column dedicated to it. You should subscribe. It's the closest you'll ever come to a date with famous Harry Potter. He's such a fucking limelight hog, I swear to Merlin."

Hermione shook her head at Ron, and felt the last of her affection for him drift from her body. She let it go with a cutting sense of sadness, but she'd get over it cheerfully enough in, say, about an hour or so.

"You know, at least at Malfoy Manor you expect them to use the Cruciatus on you," Hermione offered, thoughtfully. "But I think that's more honourable than being stabbed in the back at The Burrow. Goodbye, Ronald. For good."

And with that she walked out of the Weasley family forever.

Several hours later and Hermione found herself knocking on the door to number twelve, Grimmauld Place. She'd put on a pretty purple dress and twisted red ribbons into her hair. A little shading on her eyes, a dab of colour to her lips and she felt ready. She looked pretty, felt sexy in the lacy underwear she was wearing, and was prepared to be racily dangerous tonight, take a risk or two.

Harry was worth the gamble.

But he wasn't home.

Hermione frowned as Kreacher led her to the dining room. The house was totally unrecognisable from the bleakness of the Black family ownership. Under the control of the House of Potter, the place was bright, airy and welcoming. Hermione thought it needed a woman's touch, but she was pleased to see it didn't have that yet.

It meant there was still hope.

"Master Harry won't be home till later, Miss Hermione," said Kreacher, offering Hermione tea.

"Where is he?" she asked, accepting a cup and blowing the liquid to cool it.

"Right now, Master Harry is in The Leaky Cauldron in London...waiting for his date."

Hermione's stomach hit the floor. Her heart hammered in protest.

"A date?" She asked in abject dismay. "Who with?"

"Oh, Kreacher doesn't know her name, Mistress," said the aged house-elf. "Master Harry has been using this new Emerald Tablet feature to arrange such meetings."

Emerald Tablets...Hermione had seen this phenomenon in Australia. Sheets of green crystal that had all sorts of practical uses. Reading the Daily Prophet and international news, looking up spells and potion recipes, communication, networking. Hermione was thinking of buying one herself.

"What feature?"

"Kreacher understands it is called WitchFinder," said Kreacher. "It allows single witches and wizards to meet and potentially form relationships. Humans are forgetting the subtleties of romance, Kreacher thinks."

Hermione wasn't sure how to take that. Harry was on a singles network, which was a bad thing, as he'd found a match and a date...but it also meant he was still single, for tonight at least.

"How does WitchFinder work?" asked Hermione. "Has Harry used it much? Had any success?"

Kreacher smiled swarthily. "Can Mistress keep a secret?"

"I can," said Hermione, intrigued.

"WitchFinder is all about the witch," said the elf. "She makes the match, sets up the date. She can withdraw at the last minute."

"Okay. That sounds pretty good."

"Indeed. Keeps bad wizards at bay," said Kreacher. "But the wizard has to have a guarantor, someone of repute, to interact with the witch. For Master Harry, that be Kreacher."

"And what role do you have?" asked Hermione.

"When Master Harry is ready, he tells Kreacher. And then Kreacher is supposed to say to the witch...Witch - Are you ready to be Found? Is a marker that the date can start. But...Master Harry's dates have never started."

"And why not?"

"Because Kreacher always be saying something else, and the dates get called off. Master Harry be upset that no witches want to date him, because he's lonely, but Kreacher tell him they are not believing it really him, or that they runs away scared when they see it is. It only be a little lie, and it be for Master Harry's own good, so Kreacher need not boil his own head yet."

Hermione laughed. "And what have you been saying instead?"

Kreacher turned his big eyes upon her and Hermione's breath caught in her throat. He was looking at her with a deep reverence that she'd never seen before. It sent a thrill of wonder through her.

"Kreacher be saying...Witch - Are you Miss Hermione Granger, instead. That be the only witch Master Harry really be wanting on a date. So, until a witch say 'yes, I am Hermione Granger', the only dates Master Harry will be seeing will be on his calendar."

Hermione gasped, her heart swelling and soaring in her chest.

"Why do you say that?" Hermione asked breathlessly.

"It be true, that be why," said Kreacher simply. "Master Harry be sad and unhappy from the moment Mistress Hermione left this house. Kreacher know it because he miss her, that Mistress take Master Harry's heart with her when she go. Then nasty Weasels make fight with him. Master Harry look for comfort in other witches, but he never find it. Only one witch he wants...only one witch ever make Master Harry happy."

Kreacher turned a serious look at Hermione then.

"So...Witch - Are you Miss Hermione Granger?"

Hermione smiled and shook with violent nerves. "Yes...I am Hermione Granger."

Kreacher grinned toothily at her. "Very good, Miss."

And he snapped his bony fingers. Hermione gasped at the forced Apparition, but soon her feet hit solid ground. She looked around at the Leaky Cauldron's back lounge. There were seven booths here, spaced around in a tight oval. It was as if there was a shield charm around the middle five, as they were bare, but a poorly disguised journalist and photographer were crammed into the two furthest away from the central booth, in which a single wizard sat, forlornly running his finger around the rim of his half-drunk ale glass. He took a deep sigh, it was heavy with disappointment.

It was as if he couldn't understand why he'd been stood up by yet another witch.

Hermione smiled giddily as she watched him from the shadows of the corridor. She'd forgotten how handsome he was. Six months was far too long a time to be away from him. That was the last time she'd do that. She took a steeling breath, plumped up her bra and eased her neckline down a touch, then entered the room.

A camera flashed sneakily as it caught sight of her. The popping light caught Harry's attention and he looked up. His face exploded in surprise as his eyes locked onto her, and Hermione had to force down a laugh. He was so adorable, it made her physically ache for him. She closed the distance between them, neither pair of eyes leaving the other, and he stood from the booth to meet her as she stopped near him. He was still stunned by the shock.

Hermione smiled sweetly. "Hey you."

"H-Hermione?" Harry stumbled out. "You look beautiful...but...what are you doing here?"

"Well, word has it you've been trying to date every witch in Britain but me," said Hermione. She took his hand and stepped close, placing a chaste kiss to his cheek. Then she whispered into his ear. "I don't like being the odd one out. And, to be honest, I've had quite enough of your clueless nonsense. You don't really want any of those dumb bitches, do you?"

Harry grinned at her, moving so close that their noses brushed together.

"No," he said breathily. "I've always wanted the brightest witch of the age, actually. I made a mistake by not telling her when I had the chance. Do you think she'll forgive me?"

"We all make mistakes, Harry," said Hermione, her warm breath tickling his lips. Her eyes darted across his, flashing hotly, and she knew she was home safe. She pressed her mouth against his, sucking his tongue between her teeth. He returned her pressure, moaning into her throat, until she finally had to come up for air. She met his eyes, bright and dancing with fire. "Consider yourself forgiven."

"Well," Harry breathed lustily. "Shall we have our first date?"

"Yes, it's about time we did," said Hermione, smiling and stealing another kiss before they sat down. "Oh...and Harry?"

"Yes?"

"Don't think me a slut or anything, but I have no problem fucking a wizard on the first date."

"Right." said Harry. He summoned the inn keeper. "Tom! Cheque please!"