And finally, date a boy who makes you happy, but marry him only if he makes you laugh deep-belly rumbles that hurt your ribs as they expand outwards. Date him when he sees that youre gross sobbing. The world is not a kind place. You will feel a lot of pain. Make sure you are with someone who makes it all bearable. Humor is an excellent gauge of intelligence. Life gets boring. Find someone who makes the banal interesting.

My second most serious relationship- the first being you, of course- was with Oliver Wood. We met at a Quidditch match Ginny had dragged me to. After the match, Ginny insisted on speaking with the former Gryffindor captain. Throughout their talk, he kept looking at me. Later, while Ginny was off talking to other players, Oliver slipped beside me, and pressed a little note into my hand discreetly, before turning and winking at me.

When I had opened the small piece of paper, I found it to be a request for a lunch date. I had no reason to decline the handsome guy, so I wrote to him, and accepted his offer.

Trust me when I say he was one of the very few who managed to get past two from the list.

He made me feel comfortable enough to speak about my small insecurities, he was open enough to talk about his past with me, he was well mannered, he loved Crookshanks and had even managed to get the Crook's stamp of approval.

He was an International Quidditch player, and was constantly required to travel for matches with his team, and practice sessions abroad. I too was on a high point in my career. But he didn't let a day go by without writing to me. It seemed like the first thing every morning was owl me. I too, found myself becoming one of those cliched movie characters, completely smitten with him and doing all sorts of romantic things like cooking for him and writing little love notes to him.

When we did meet, he insisted on just remaining cuddled up in front of his fireplace, in silence. It was something I felt odd doing at first, but I quickly began to get warm-pun intended- to the idea of emotional intimacy.

I was happy with him, something I hadn't felt with a guy in a long time. He had passed six out of seven tests.

But then of course, there was the glitch. He didn't pass the seventh test.

Our days together had consisted of romance and happiness, there was no laughter. I attribute that in part to our busy work lives and also to his personality in general. He had been brought up to make a girl happy, not to make her lose her mind laughing. In fact, one time at the theatre, he had looked at me rather amusedly when he heard me snorting. You know, the one you claim to be pure me.

I tried to bring that aspect into our relationship, though. He laughed at my poor attempts to joke, rather pitifully might I add, but made no efforts to do so himself. He was a rather serious guy, after all.

I did let that slight glitch pass by. After all, I didn't think I would ever find someone who fit the list perfectly. And no, you may not smirk.

Then came the time I was crying after the unfortunate death of one of my charges. He was a 23 year old cancer patient, and had been in his terminal stage, leaving nothing I could do to save him. I had never had a patient die before, and the realization of the reality of the short span of life, and the unforeseeable events of future was breaking my heart. He had floo'd in, when he saw me sprawled on my sofa, snot and drool running all over the place. Instead of coming to comfort me, he went back home. I did appreciate him leaving me alone, but in hindsight, I am sure I would have preferred company, and some support at that.

We had agreed to be frank with each other, so the next week I brought up the topic and told him my thoughts. He understood, and we were okay after that.

Then a month later, on my birthday, he proposed. My parents, his parents, our friend's- all were hidden while he asked me in the middle of a beautiful park. When he was on his knee, looking at me expectantly, I wasn't sure what to say. On one hand, the irritating glitch flashed in front of my eyes; all the lulls, all the silences- which had seemed comfortable at the time but now seemed like another glitch- came back to me, and on the other, I wanted to say yes because I was afraid of losing him and never again finding someone so close to Mr. Perfect from my Dad's descriptions. In that moment, I knew I couldn't say yes. I didn't have the right motives to, and it wouldn't be fair to him either. I did love him, but I wasn't in love with him. Maybe it could have even been an infatuation with a seemingly perfect guy.

So I didn't say yes.

I didn't see him afterwards, and my apology letter returned unopened to me. Daddy said that he had even cried a little.

But in the end, it was what it was. Daddy's list had stopped me from making a mistake, yet again. Oliver did get married. Three times, and none of his marriages lasted for more than two years.

You were different, though. I can count the number of times we've had silences between us on one hand.

All our conversations have always been riveting. That is not to say that you blatantly accept and agree with everything I say. No, you put up a strong end for your own convictions. Which also doesn't mean that we fight; it's more of intellectual banter which keeps us both on our toes, and doesn't let there be awkwardness or silence between us.

Your charm has always been something I've loved about you. You have the innate sense of when I'm falling into a gloomy, dark place and you always know the right things to say to bring me back. Somehow, you've ingrained yourself so much into my life that I've begun to freely depend on you, and talking to you seems the most natural thing to me.

We may have our differences, even an occasional fight, but do remember, with each other, we can go through anything and still stand tall and strong.

I will never forget when we went to watch a re-showing of An Affair to Remember. We got kicked out, remember, because of all the noise we were making laughing at the sad parts? You had a running commentary going on about the film, and you'd turned me from a sobbing fool into a shaking mess, laughing and snorting all throughout.

You've passed the seventh, and final, test an infinite number of times- maybe even every single day we have been together.

That is why I said yes to you unhesitatingly when you finally asked me to marry you.

You know the saying, "Everyday may not me good, but there is something good in everyday." You are the good in my every day, and you make each day a little more special for me.

And that is what I love about you. Along with everything you are, are doing and want to do. You gave me back my illusion of the world as a fairytale, because with you, I become a princess, and you, my prince. Just like I imagined when I was a little girl-all good, and no evil in the world.

Daddy's list set some high standards for the man who was to love me, but I'm glad I found him, and I'm glad it is you, my love.

(A/N: Finally, it's done. I had this idea based on a post on Tumblr, and this is my very first multi-chaptered completed fic. This is dedicated to every girl looking for her love. Let's hope we too find someone like Hermione found hers. :)

Regarding, who she's speaking to and why, here's two thing's I wanted to say:

1) I personally imagine it to be Draco, and she's speaking with him just before the birth of their first child and reassuring him of his insecurities of being like his Father and not being responsible and good enough with the child.

2) I have left it ambiguous though, so you can imagine it to be any guy you ship Hermione with, for the same reasons.

Thanks to everyone who has read, reviewed, followed and favourited this fic-I am so happy with the response this little thing got. :D)