Disclaimer: Does not belong to me, sadly. Or this would have happened.

Note: Starts in Goblet of Fire, changing and evolving on page 318, right before Harry and Hermione's outing to Hogsmeade.

"I hate talking to you in that cloak," Hermione sighed. "I never know if I'm looking at you or not."

Harry smiled and touched her arm gratefully before running upstairs to put on his Invisibility Cloak. Then he headed back downstairs, and together he and Hermione set off for Hogsmeade.

They were halfway across the grounds when Harry spoke quietly.

"Thanks for doing this," he told Hermione. "I know you don't want to."

"Of course I want to spend time with you," she said simply. "I just hate this publicity. Everyone's so fickle – they want you to be their hero one moment, and the next they're condemning you. I just really hate people sometimes."

Harry reached out and took her hand in his.

"That's going to look strange," Hermione giggled. "My hand's gone."

Indeed it was, Harry realized.

"Oh well," he said quietly, not caring for the moment. He squeezed her hand tightly, and Hermione turned her head to beam – at a point about a foot from his face. It was that thought that counted.

"Hermione, I've been thinking," he said, finally voicing something he'd thought about saying for months. "Please stop trying to reconcile me and Ron, all right? I'm sick and tired of his attitude. He's been jealous of my fame, my money, my name – all things I can't help – for years, but I've ignored it because I thought I needed his friendship. And I don't, not anymore. I mean, I've got you."

Hermione's eyes prickled.

"All right, Harry. You've got me."

"That's all I need," Harry told her again. She squeezed his hand back tightly, so tightly he thought the circulation was gone.

"He's an idiot," Hermione said quietly. "I only talk with him because I figured you'd take him back eventually. I mean, you always choose him over me."

Harry felt a rush of guilt, remembering the last year when he had ignored Hermione for months over a stupid broom and Ron's missing rat.

"I never said sorry," he realized out loud. "I'm a right git, aren't I?"

Hermione let out a half-laugh, half-sob.

"Well, not all the time."

Harry grinned at her, but she couldn't see it.

"That's good to hear," he said softly. "I'm sorry, by the way. Very sorry. You've never left me, not once. I'm – I'm glad you're my best friend, Hermione."

"Me too," she said, looking even closer to tears.

They had just started on the path to Hogsmeade, hidden partially by the trees.

Harry made a sudden decision and took off his cloak.

"What are you doing?" Hermione gasped.

"I want to go to Hogsmeade with my best friend," Harry told her with a smile. "I'm not going to hide that. I can ignore whatever they say, as long as you're with me."

Hermione practically leapt into his arms, hugging him tightly. Harry grinned dumbly and hugged her back.

"I'm not going anywhere," she promised.

She relaxed and pulled back slightly. Their foreheads rested against one another. Harry and Hermione stood there for a while, absolutely content in each other's arms.

Harry was acutely aware of the flutter of her eyelashes, the warmth of her breath, and the intensity of her dark brown eyes. He'd never been this close to Hermione before. Harry had the sudden revelation that his best friend was absolutely gorgeous.

When the moment came, they gently pulled away and began walking to Hogsmeade again, hand in hand. Harry's invisibility cloak was carefully rolled up and tucked into the bottom of Hermione's bag.

When other students saw them, some of them laughed, some threw horrible remarks their way, and others quoted that stupid Daily Prophet article.

Harry blocked it out and listened to what Hermione was saying about an advanced transfiguration spell she'd just read about last night in bed.

He was suddenly distracted by the thought of her in bed. What did she wear to sleep? All the boys wore pajamas, Harry knew some girls did as well. Others wore nightgowns, though. Harry had a sudden, vivid image of Hermione in a tiny red silk nightgown, sprawled enticingly over black silk sheets, her long hair tumbling free over her shoulders...

Harry gulped and tried to think about transfiguration again. He listened as carefully as he could, trying to avoid such enticing thoughts about Hermione.

The other students stopped their insults when they realized Harry didn't care.

Hermione led Harry into Honeydukes, where she bought them both some delicious cream-filled chocolates, and a bag of chocolate-covered cherries for later. They walked out munching on their treats. Hermione was telling Harry about the time she had tried to bake her mother a cake for her birthday and ended up destroying the kitchen (she was six).

Harry laughed and stroked his thumb across the back of Hermione's hand. She looked sideways at him with half-lidded eyes, and smiled shyly.

"Your teeth," Harry blurted out, realizing something. "They're – different!"

"After Malfoy cursed me," Hermione began to explain, and Harry's heart filled with rage again at the blond Slytherin, "Madam Pomfrey shrank my teeth again, and I... conveniently told her to stop a little late. They're smaller now – do you like them?"

"They're nice, and I'm glad you like them," Harry answered truthfully. "But I also liked your regular teeth... They had originality."

Hermione blushed prettily.

"That's so sweet," she told him. Harry grinned, and then spotted Rita Skeeter and her photographer out of the corner of his eye.

Hermione followed his annoyed gaze.

"Oh, Harry," she sighed. "Do you want to go?"

"No," he said firmly. "I'm not leaving because of them."

"It'll just lead to another story, and more people talking about you," she told him honestly.

"Then let's give them something to talk about," Harry said quietly, his eyes suddenly flashing.

"Harry?"

He brought their mouths together in a gentle kiss.

Hermione reached out to fist his robes in her hands, and returned the kiss with an intensity that practically made Harry see stars. Harry had thought he had surprised her, and maybe he had, but she was acting anything but surprised. Hermione seemed totally unfazed, and damn she was a good kisser.

Their arms wound about each other naturally, hers coming around his neck, his sneaking lower and caressing the small of her back and the curve of her hip. Harry savored the faint taste of chocolate and cinnamon, and the ever present taste that was Hermione and delicious.

When she finally gave him a chance to breathe, Harry just grinned deliriously at her. Hermione smiled mischievously and rubbed their noses together before fluttering her eyelashes and seizing him in another long, devouring kiss.

Hermione pulled back again much later. There were some flashes and clicks nearby, and Harry knew the photographer was still snapping photos.

"Want to grab a butterbeer?" She said lowly.

"Yeah," Harry smiled, ridiculously happy.

So they did. Quite a few people had seen their kiss on the street, and most of them were watching the young couple in silence.

When they finished their drinks and their conversation about European politics (Hermione got the Guardian every week, which was filled with a mess of things to talk about), Harry and Hermione glanced around.

"Just a moment," Hermione kissed Harry on the cheek before hopping down and going over to a table... Where Lee Jordan, Fred, George and Ron were sitting.

"Hey Ron," Hermione said casually. She leaned forward until he was tilting nervously backwards in his chair.

"I gave you time to see your mistake," she told him coolly. "Time's up. You left Harry, and there's no going back anymore. Consider our friendship, if you can call it that – over."

Ron tilted too far back and his chair toppled backwards, spilling him onto the floor with a pained cry.

"Fred," Hermione turned to Ron's brother with a glint in her eye. "How do I get into the kitchens?"

Fred gulped, glancing down at Ron, then quickly leaned forward to whisper in Hermione's ear. She grinned, patted him on the shoulder, and headed back to Harry, who was waiting for her.

"Shall we go then?" He smiled warmly at her.

"Yes please," Hermione beamed.

Her hand slipped into his and they walked out together.

"I hear the Shrieking Shack is an excellent place for snogging," Harry said off-handedly.

"Can't argue with that," Hermione laughed. "Lead on."

They were happily absorbed in each other, a feeling that would last for their rest of their lives.

So the rest of the world could just go screw itself.