After the war, Harry was distraught. Not only had he lost so many people, but the love of his life had chosen another man. Not that he could blame her. She didn't know how he felt, as he had never told her.

Harry had loved Hermione Granger since he was twelve years old. At first he hadn't known what the feeling was, all he knew was the he didn't want to live a life without her. That was a reality that he thought he might face when she had been petrified.

He had come close several times after that, but it was never the right time. He had treated her so poorly in their third year that he thought that he had lost his chance at being with her. He felt that he didn't deserve to be her friend, let alone her boyfriend. He had made plans to do better in his fourth year, but then that cursed tournament had driven them apart for the first part of the year. She had believed him and had helped him train, but there was a distance between them that hadn't been there before because she didn't want to choose between him and Ron. Even then he had thought that he might be able to ask her to the Yule Ball, but by the time he had gathered his courage, she had already been asked by Krum.

After Voldemort came back, he knew he had to wait. There was no way that he could be with any girl, let alone Hermione, when the Dark Wanker was back at full power. He would not put any girl in that sort of danger. He had pledge that he would tell Hermione that he loved her just as soon as Tom Riddle had hit the ground. To that end, he burried himself in his training, becoming the best wizard that he could be.

The next two years were hard for Harry as he watched Hermione's awkward courtship with Ronald Weasley. His heart hurt knowing that she had feelings for the red headed arsehole. His blood boiled every time Weasley would hurt her feelings.

Harry had almost told her how he felt when Weasley had rejected Hermione in favor of Lavender Brown. He had held her close and comforted her as well as he knew how. All he wanted to do was make her happy. He would literally do anything to make her smile again, even if he knew she would never see him as he saw her.

But he hadn't told her. He had kept to his vow and had kept his silence. For her safety. He was paying for that now as he watched her sink into the Ron's arms. He couldn't blame her for finding happiness. He couldn't. He wanted to tell her that she had another choice, another option. He would treat her like a queen and would always be there for her.

If only she would let him. If only he hadn't been such a coward.

-:::-

Five Years Later

She hadn't seen him in over four years. In fact, she hadn't even talked to him since her engagement a year after the war. When she and Ron had told him that they were going to get married, he had bolted. She'd been so confused. She had thought that he would be happy for her, but the look on his face as she had showed him the small fake diamond on her finger was not that of a happy man. More like a heartbroken man.

The day after they had told him, she had talked to Luna. Hermione knew that Harry and Luna were very close. The two had bonded after the war and had helped each other get through the grief that had permeated the entire country. Hermione had always felt a little guilty that she hadn't been the one to support Harry after the war, but she'd been so caught up with her relationship with Ron that she hadnt' noticed how much Harry had been hurting. Luckily, Luna had and had kept him out of the bottle and out of depression.

Her conversation with Luna was enlightening to say the least. Harry was apparently in love with her, and had been since their second year. Hermione was shocked because she had never once figured that Harry had felt that way about her.

After that, her relationship with Ron crumbled, and they eventually decided to go back to being friends. Harry, though, had disappeared. She looked for him for five years. She had decided that she was in love with the raven haired bastard, and that he was a coward for running away instead of telling her how he felt.

It had taken her five years, but she had found him in Rome. The look on his face when she knocked on the door to his flat was priceless. So was the look he gave her after she slapped him across the face as hard as she could.

After that she couldn't see his face anymore as she had flung herself at him and buried her face into his neck as she sobbed out his name.

When she pulled back she didn't let him say anything. Instead, she pressed her mouth to his in a sweet kiss that promised a future that she had only ever dreamed of. A promise of forever.

End.