Guys, this is a Harmony. I repeat, this is a HARMONY. That means the romantic pairing in this story is Harry/Hermione. I know that will be surprising to my usual readers, so I wanted to forewarn you. If that's not your thing, I totally understand and I'll see you for some more Dramione soon!

Hermione finally gave sleeping up as a bad job and reached over to turn on the lamp so that she could read. She hit the switch and the light came on, and then, as if this action had summoned him, a very drunk Harry Potter stumbled into the room. He flopped onto the bed face down, almost completely on top of her, head on her chest.

"What's the matter, love? Can't sleep?" She asked running her fingers through his hair in a familiar way, amused if rather confused by his antics. He'd been behaving somewhat oddly all night, but this was downright strange.

"I wish," he mumbled.

She made a face. "You wish you could sleep?" She clarified, trying to understand his alcohol addled, half-asleep train of thought.

"Can't sleep without you," he slurred, somehow sounding more inebriated than he had when she'd helped him to bed two hours before.

Hermione frowned, starting to feel really concerned. She could count on her hands the number of times she'd seen Harry drunk and still have fingers left over, and she'd certainly never seen him drink the way he had tonight. He simply couldn't tolerate being out of control, and while she was touched that he felt comfortable enough in her company to let loose, she didn't understand what had brought it on. They had been celebrating his birthday but that had never been one of the handful of days per year that sent his emotions spiraling, so she couldn't account for his apparent need to drink himself into oblivion.

And what was he talking about? They had shared a bed on a number of occasions, but they certainly didn't sleep together often, much less every night. Something was definitely up with him, but she was torn about whether it was fair to essentially interrogate him while his inhibitions were down.

She was distracted from her thoughts when Harry began to nuzzle her breasts. "So soft," he sighed, "but I'm not supposed touch."

Her mouth dropped open in surprise. What was going on? It was a testament to how much she trusted this wizard that she didn't pull away or attempt to stop him, just stared at him incredulously.

"Harry, is something wrong?"

"It's my birthday."

"I know that, that's why we took this holiday," she responded immediately.

"Mmm twenty-one."

She considered that. "Well, I've been twenty-one for ten months, it's not that bad," she assured him in the way one does a drunk and unreasonable person, and continued to card her fingers through his hair hoping to soothe him, he usually loved it when she did this, he would curl up next to her on the couch like a cat with his head on her lap for hours.

"My parents were twenty-one when they died."

That brought her up short.

Oh. Oh Harry.

"I know," she said gently. What else was there to say?

"Least they had each other though...and me," he hiccuped.

She considered how to respond, there was really no making this better, the Potters' story was a tragedy. Even her heart ached at the thought that she had now been on earth longer than either of them had been, and she wasn't their child.

"I think they lived full lives, as short as they were. And you were a big reason for that," she said carefully, "they did some wonderful things in the time that they had. They gave you to the world and protected you so that you could grow old even though they didn't get to. I, for one, will forever be thankful for that." She didn't have children of her own, but she couldn't imagine that James or Lily Potter would regret for one moment the sacrifices they'd made to protect their son. Who could ever regret Harry?

"Never gonna have that," he sang and then clumsily worked one hand under the hem of her shirt to stroke the curve of her waist, he tunneled the other arm beneath her until he was embracing her fully.

"Have what, love?"

"That. A family. Never gonna happen." He finished that statement with a loud huff.

"Oh Harry," she said, still stroking his head, uncaring of the way he had his hands all over her. "You have plenty of time to find somebody."

He began to shake his head vigorously and given it's position between her breasts, she vaguely considered that she should have felt much more awkward than she did. But she was mostly just preoccupied with making him feel better.

"Harry, twenty-one is still very young. Your parents were lucky to find each other when they did and I know there's something to be said for magical connections and finding your spouse early, but that doesn't mean you won't still meet the right one."

"Don't want someone," he insisted, and now she wasn't certain if his speech was impaired by his drunkenness or the way his face was buried in her cleavage.

"Why not? You deserve to be happy," she was now practically pleading with him. She hated to see him like this.

"But I just want you," he whined, punctuating that declaration with a kiss to her sternum.

He'd said it so matter-of-factly, but he may as well have just proven to her that they sky was purple given the shocking effect it had on Hermione.

"What?" She gasped.

"Just you," he sing-songed and began leaving fleeting kisses, just brushes of his lips really, all over her chest, along her clavicle, her neck, the swell of her breasts- all of which were exposed by her spaghetti strapped top. She knew she should stop him, the situation was quickly spiraling out of control, but she didn't, she was too busy trying to figure out why she was enjoying his attentions so much. Her relationship with Harry wasn't like this. "Want you in my bed, my ring on your finger," he grabbed clumsily at her left hand, "and I want to put my babies in here," he reached down to cup one of her hips possessively.

Hermione was certain if she hadn't already been lying down, and quite literally covered by Harry, she would have fallen over.

Harry, ever attuned to her, noticed the way that she'd frozen up. "I'm sorry, I know you don't wanna hear it." He sighed dramatically and removed his hands from her body. "I should go to bed."

But he didn't move, and Hermione didn't try to make him get up. They just lay there silently for several minutes as she tried to decide how to respond. Suddenly, he sighed again, but this time it was a long contented sound, and then his body slackened and she realized he had fallen asleep.

Hermione didn't even try to extract herself from him even though she couldn't get to sleep. He was heavy, but it wasn't the discomfort of his weight on top of her that kept her awake, if anything that was reassuring. It was her racing thoughts.

Had he been serious? Honestly, under the right circumstances alcohol could be almost as good as any truth serum. And if he'd been feeling like this, but felt like she was unattainable, that would also explain his odd behavior and unusual desire to get drunk. But what would that mean for them?

Hermione considered herself to be an intelligent woman. Perhaps not as smart as others thought her to be, she was aware of her own limitations. But sharp, nonetheless. So, considering that he was one of her two male best friends, the person she trusted most in the world, she'd considered the idea of Harry as a romantic partner years ago. She'd also discarded the idea.

Then again, she'd settled on Ron, and look how that had turned out.

But she had thought she knew what was what with their relationship, and she felt utterly unprepared to deal with this.

She gazed at the top of Harry's messy head and craned her neck to give him an affectionate kiss, something she'd done many times before. He let out a little snort and then a sigh. "Love you Mione," he murmured and snuggled more firmly against her.

And just like that it was like the world stopped spinning and when it started up again it was a completely different place. Actually, that wasn't right, it was the same place, she was just seeing it with new eyes.

She wrapped her arms around him and pulled him as close as possible as she let her new awareness sink in.

This was Harry sprawled out on top of her. Harry who had crawled in bed with her like it was the most natural thing in the world. If anybody else had taken such liberties with her person she would have kicked their arse, even Ron- whom she'd actually been intimate with in the past. But, again, this was Harry. It hadn't even occurred to her to try to escape from out from under him. It wouldn't have been an escape, she liked the way he felt, she was safe with him, and loved, he was her best friend, but despite what she'd sworn to everybody who had asked (and that was a lot of people) for the entirety of their friendship, it was more than that.

Yes, he washer best friend. And that was beautiful, and precious, and it would always be important, but it was most certainly not all.

How had she not realized?

"I get it, you choose him."

It was the last thing Ron had said before he'd left them in the woods in the middle of a war. And at the time it had seemed like a bitter accusation. She had resented him terribly for it. If they'd ever had a chance as a couple it had been ruined that day. Though she was rapidly coming to believe that they had never had a chance.

Because now she could see that those words that had left her so angry, had been nothing but a simple statement of fact. It was Harry she had chosen that day, not the mission, not the Light, just Harry. She always chose Harry and had been doing so consistently and without question since she was twelve years old. Choosing him over and over: above her own parents, her other friends, her education, over everything else in her life. And she'd never felt like it was a sacrifice.

Where Harry Potter went Hermione Granger followed. Not because she was some martyr, or exceptionally brave- even though he was known to inspire acts of great courage in her. But because he was her heart.

He was her heart. Her heart had been walking around in the body of another person for years, what was she to do other than stick by his side?

She swallowed down a sob as she didn't want to risk waking him. There would be no putting him off if he woke to find her crying her eyes out, and he wouldn't be in any state to discuss this for several more hours.

She was able to doze after that, feeling more peaceful after having gotten some clarity of mind. But mostly she just revelled in his presence, rubbing his back, running her fingers through his hair, and listening to the reassuring sound of his deep and even breathing. Which is how she knew the moment that he returned to the waking world.

At first he just rubbed his cheek against her chest and began to stretch, but then, once he realized where he was and exactly what he was doing he gasped and went absolutely still. She continued to play with his hair, hoping to demonstrate that not only was she awake, but she wasn't upset by their rather unconventional sleeping arrangement. However, that message didn't seem to get through.

"How much trouble am I in?" His voice was raspy and, frankly, sexy as hell- thoughts like that were going to take some getting used to.

Hermione braced herself against this new, wonderful, awareness of him and just giggled. "Oh, if you were in trouble you'd know it already."

He finally looked up at her warily, doubt written all over his face. She giggled again, feeling like a silly little girl, but enjoying the freedom to be herself with him. She regarded him carefully, marveling at the difference a few hours could make. He'd definitely looked better. His eyes were bleary and bloodshot, one side of his face- the cheek that had been pressed against her was red and appeared smashed, and there was dried drool at the corner of his mouth. And, Merlin help her, all she could think was that it was adorable.

"Notice the placement of my knee," she shifted the leg he was still straddling demonstratively. "If I was upset, you'd be in a world of pain right now."

His eyes went wide and he practically vaulted off of her. Flopping down beside her and not-so-subtly grabbing a pillow to cover his crotch, he then began to rub his hands up and down his face vigorously. She let him have his moment and didn't point out that he'd just been on top of her and therefore she was already well aware of his current state. Not to mention that it was morning and he was a man.

"I'm really sorry Hermione, I don't know what I was thinking, I don't remember coming in here." He'd gone bright red and sounded absolutely wretched.

She didn't say anything, just regarded him carefully as he rubbed his eyes with such intensity it seemed like he thought if worked hard enough, he could wipe away his embarrassment. And she realized that as mortified as he apparently was to have awoken in her bed, that if he didn't even remember coming into her room, then he didn't remember what he'd said to her either. Well, she wasn't going to pretend it hadn't happened, but she could give him a few minutes to get himself together.

"Go freshen up, I'll start breakfast." She leaned over and gave him a kiss on the forehead and then climbed out of bed. She walked to the door without looking back, grabbing her robe and pulling it on along the way. She felt his eyes on her the whole way.

In the large, modern kitchen of the Swiss chalet Harry had rented them for the week she pulled out the ingredients for bacon, eggs, and toast. She wasn't much of a cook, but she could manage that much, and because- with the exception of keeping their wands on hand- they had agreed to go fully muggle for this holiday, there were no hangover potions to be had, and Harry would probably be craving something greasy.

She was in the middle of frying the bacon when she heard a crash from the direction of Harry's room, and then the sound of somebody running- feet pounding on the floor of the corridor and then down the stairs. She looked over her shoulder in time to see Harry rush into the kitchen, still pulling a shirt over his head. She watched him and resisted the urge to lick her lips. She'd seen him like this hundreds, if not thousands of times. Hell, she'd seen him naked- never intentionally, or for very long, but even magical tents aren't designed for full time living and she'd gotten a peek or two in those months they'd shared one.

She had also been well aware for a long time that Harry was a good looking wizard. But she'd never been so affected by him before. It was amazing what one tiny, little life changing revelation can do to a person.

"Hermione," he began, stumbling towards her but then he stopped, obviously at a loss for what to say. He looked absolutely terrified, and she was now certain, as she suspected when she heard the crash, that he'd remembered what he'd said to her last night.

She turned her head back around and methodically started flipping the bacon, using the time it took to complete the task to gather her courage. "You know," she said as casually as she could manage, "I'm not sure I like this."

She actually heard his breath catch.

"Like what?" He asked, with such obvious fear in his voice that she longed to reassure him, but she couldn't bear to turn around lest she lose her nerve.

"You figuring out something before me." He was silent so she continued. "Given our history, and you having the emotional range of a teaspoon and all that," she smiled to herself and was pleased to hear him huff out a laugh. "I really should have been the one to realize I was completely in love with you first." She took a deep breath, slightly stunned at the depth of emotion she felt when she said that out loud, but she charged on. "I would have been much subtler in letting you know. Crawling into bed with me and telling me you wanted me to marry you and have your babies was quite Gryffindor of you, though that might be negated by the fact that you had to get drunk first," she teased, hoping she didn't sound as nervous as she felt- she didn't want him to question her conviction, she may have been oblivious as little at eight hours ago, but she was now certain of her feelings for him.

But she didn't truly have time worry before his arms were around her, his lips at her neck, his beard scraping against the delicate skin of her throat. She shuddered. She had a thing about the beard he'd been sporting for the past few months- though she was only now realizing it was a thing. She'd been a blind fool.

When he'd told her that he was considering shaving just to appease Molly Weasley- who apparently hated it- Hermione had responded that she thought it made him look quite dashing. His reaction now took on an entirely new meaning. Considering there had been no more talk of shaving after that.

"That wasn't nice," he growled, "I thought I'd ruined it."

"Ruined what?"

"Our friendship."

She flicked off the burner and leaned back against him, taking a few deep breaths. "Harry, I can't think of a single thing you could do that would ruin our friendship," she said as she placed her hands over his at her waist.

"Am I honestly not even going to get a lecture for coming into your room last night, basically face planting into your cleavage and making myself at home there?"

She shrugged, feeling a little shy, but forced herself to be very honest with him as she tilted her head back to run her nose along his jawline as she spoke. "I liked it, you're welcome there anytime." She bit her lip, almost not believing her own daring.

"You're playing with fire witch," he growled.

She spun to face him and reached up to loop her arms around his neck. She felt immediately empowered by the wild look in his eyes. "You would never hurt me."

"No, not intentionally." He pressed his lips to her forehead. "You're my best friend, I respect you more than anybody in the world and yet all I can think about right now is how I've been fantasizing about laying you out on that table," he jerked his head in the direction of the dining area where there was an absolutely massive table, "and making a meal out of you ever since we arrived."

Hermione whimpered and pressed herself closer to him. "Does that mean what I think it means?" Her breath hitched when she felt his erection pressing against her belly as the reality sunk in that his was Harry and he wanted her.

"It means every single thing you want it to mean, there's nothing I don't want to do to you if you'll let me." He ran his hands down her sides until he was firmly gripping her hips.

"Oh Merlin, Harry," she said breathily.

"But here's the thing," he took a deep breath and a half step back, she automatically went to follow his but his hold on her hips prevented it. "I know you, I know how your brain works. If you need to discuss this, then tell me to walk away right now. I'll go and take a cold shower and we can talk until that beautiful mind of yours is fully satisfied," he said, lifting a hand and brushing his fingers against her temple. "I won't screw this up, you mean far too much to me."

She took a deep breath and did her best to consider his words, no matter how much her body was screaming at her to throw herself as him. And she appreciated the offer. He was right, she had a million questions, and it spoke to how well he knew her, and how much he cared for her that he was making it in the first place, as she could tell that the very last thing he wanted to do right now was walk away from her.

And she thought that if he did she might actually spontaneously combust. It may have seemed reckless, but when it came down to it she trusted Harry with every single part of her, knew he would take care of her. They could talk later. Right now she just needed him.

"I don't want you to take any kind of shower unless I'm in there with you," she admitted, a little shocked by the flirtatious quality of her voice, and especially by her bold assertion.

His green eyes went almost completely dark and for a moment he just stared at her and then with those lightning fast reflexes, before she could really register what was happening, he swooped down and captured her lips with his. It was more promise than kiss at first- as if he was affirming to her that, of course this was how it should be, how it was meant to be. But then he gently began to move his lips against hers, and she responded eagerly.

It was reverent and beautiful, and everything. But after only a few moments she felt his hands on her face, gently pulling her away from his mouth, and she raised her own hands to his jaw. When their eyes met she was grinning and he beamed back at her in return.

"Harry," she gasped, in awe of the feelings a mere meeting of lips had evoked, their magic pulsed between them, longing for more and she took a shuddering breath.

He closed his eyes and let out a little laugh. "Yeah, I know. Wow." When he opened his eyes again, his expression was almost feral and he reached down and yanked her into his arms.

She yelped in surprise and then started to laugh, a happy, free sound she almost didn't recognize as coming from her. "Going to lay me out on that table?" She asked, gesturing to the dining area, feeling excited and surprisingly un-apprehensive about the idea.

He smiled down at her, the expression on his face adoring. "We have plenty of time for the table, but I do have some standards Hermione, that's not where I'm going to make love to you for the first time."

"Oh, okay, yeah," she responded, and with anybody else she would have been embarrassed by how breathless she sounded.

"So, sofa or bed?" He insisted, those beautiful eyes of his sparkling at her with mischief, but also with something more, something which made her feel special and lent her a previously unforeseen level of confidence.

Because this is Harry, her brain reminded her.

"Sofa is closer," she responded immediately.

"Brightest witch of her age," he quipped as he began striding towards the living room. "Though I was beginning to have my doubts."

"Excuse me!" She feigned offense, even as she sunk into his embrace.

"Did you really not know?"

"Know what?" She wondered, reaching up to stroke his cheek.

"How I felt about you? I really thought you at least suspected that I was hopelessly and rather pathetically pining for you, but were politely ignoring it for the sake of our friendship."

"I had no idea," she confessed quietly and he just nodded.

He threw himself onto the couch when he reached it and she let out a screech but wasn't even jostled within his strong embrace. "Harry!" She shrieked. He ignored her as he rearranged her until she was straddling his lap and when they were face to face again spoke: "Hi,"he whispered.

"Hi," she said in return, her smile felt like it might split her face wide open.

He gave her hips a squeeze and lifted his hands to part the sides of her robe and pull it off, then worked them under her shirt to rub up and down her sides and ducked his head to nuzzle the exposed swells of her breasts.

She sighed at the soft, arousing sensation but couldn't resist teasing him. "You've been taking a lot of liberties with my person lately, Mr. Potter.

He snickered against her skin but didn't stop his ministrations and still managed to sound almost whiny when he answered. "You promised me I wouldn't get into trouble for that Miss Granger, in fact I distinctly remember you saying 'anytime.'" He nipped at her clavicle. "And I warned you that you were playing with fire."

In fact, it felt like he was setting her on fire, and she was rapidly losing any inhibitions she may have had left. She thought about it for only a moment before reaching up to pull the thin straps of her top down her arms, letting it pool around her waist. He gasped and momentarily froze before slowly trailing his hands up her torso and reverently tracing the curves of her breasts.

"Oh Merlin," he whispered.

A sense of pride and satisfaction flared up within her, but she was on a mission. She used his distraction as a chance to grab the hem of his tee shirt and pull it up and over his head, she threw it behind her not caring where it landed.

"You know it's funny," Harry said after a few minutes, raising his eyes to hers, "a couple of years ago I would have said that I knew everything about you. Your routine, how you take your coffee and your tea, all of your favorite foods, the list of books you were reading. All the little things you learn by being somebody's very best friend for as long as we have been. But it's the things I don't know that have been driving me out of my mind lately."

"What don't you know?" She asked, her breath hitching as he circled one nipple with his thumb.

"I don't know where you like to be kissed and touched that most turn you on. I don't know if you're vocal in bed," he leaned down and flicked that same nipple with his tongue. "Are you bossy, or is that the one place you can stand to let somebody else take control?" He lifted his head and kissed her. "I don't know how you look when you come, and Merlin but that one has been making me crazy. I so want to see that." He took a deep breath. "And I don't know if I should shut up right now or risk scaring you away."

She licked her lips. "No, no I like it, and I trust you Harry."

He nodded and kissed her, long and unhurried, her breasts pressed deliciously against his firm chest and heat built from her core until she began to squirm in his lap searching for more.

"So beautiful and so responsive," he breathed between kisses, carefully massaging her breasts, "so much better than I ever could have imagined, and believe me I have imagined." He smirked up at her.

She squirmed on his lap again, tried to climb off to get a little more control but he wrapped one arm around her and held her still.

"Harry," she whined, "If you don't take the rest of my clothes off soon- well I don't know what it'll be, but I'll do something about it!"

He had the nerve to laugh. "And there she is," he said, affection clear in his voice.

"Shut up," she responded against his lips.

"It's so wrong that you yelling at me is such a turn on. It's a miracle I survived Hogwarts, and I'm not referring to all the things that tried to kill me while I was there." He pinched her bum for emphasis and she squealed and then started to laugh too.

"Harry, how can you be making me feel all these things at once?" She asked into the curve of his neck where she'd buried her face.

He stopped all movement for a moment and then ran a comforting hand up her spine. "That's not me sweetheart, that's us."

She took a deep breath and pulled back so that she could see his face. "Yeah." She pressed a kiss to his lips and then placed her forehead against his. "Would you make love to me now, please?"

She didn't expect the way his entire face lit up at her request.

"What?" She wondered, running a hand through his hair.

He shook his head, "Nothing, it's just something about hearing you actually say that. And the answer is yes, absolutely." He paused. "You know I love you, so very much, don't you?"

She nodded and huffed. "But we're gonna talk about how I managed to miss that fact later. I'm really not okay with that."

He laughed again, actually threw his head back and let loose as he held her close, she cuddled into his neck and grinned to herself. "I love you too, very much," she said quietly, when he'd calmed.

"Oh Hermione," he sighed, and stood with her still in his arms, then turned and set her back down on the sofa. She lay back on the piece of furniture that was easily as wide as a single bed and reached out her arms for him, he eagerly but carefully crawled on top of her.

He removed her sleep shorts and knickers and chuckled as she pushed his pants and boxers down his legs with her toes. Their magic danced across their skin and Hermione gasped when she felt how hungry hers was, it had never reacted to another person like this before.

He eased himself between her legs and pressed himself between her folds. She felt her eyes go wide.

"Okay?" He asked her quietly.

She nodded. "Yes. Please now, Harry."

He entered her in one swift stroke and she cried out as he clutched her to him. But he didn't ask her again if she was alright, there was no longer any questioning that as their magic met and melded until they were as joined as any two people ever had been.

She didn't realize there were tears streaming down her face until Harry started wiping him away with the pads of his thumbs even as he continued to move within her, their magic swirling around and through them. Before she knew it she was coming with yet another cry but found herself caught in his arms and their magic, and was gently carried back to reality.

"So beautiful," he murmured as he peppered her face with kisses. She opened her eyes to see him smiling at her softly.

She reached up and raked his sweaty hair out of his eyes, beaming at him in response."Wow," she laughed.

"Yes, definitely wow," he rolled off of her carefully but immediately tucked her into his side, summoning a blanket to cover them.

"Show off," she accused good naturedly.

"Have to keep my witch warm," he said as he rubbed his chin gently against the top of her head.

"I should scold you for being so possessive." She sighed and buried her face in his chest. "But I like it," she admitted.

They lay there in contented silence for a few minutes before Hermione's curiosity won out. "How long, Harry?"

"How long have I been in love with you, or how long have I known?" He surmised.

"Either. Both." She giggled, she felt absolutely giddy, but also strangely nervous.

"I think I fell in love with you sometime around when you hugged me for the first time. But I've only known for about a year," he sighed, "it's been a long year."

"I'm sorry," she said, a little devastated that he'd been alone with this for so long. It was her self-appointed mission to take care of him, after all.

"It's not your fault, sweetheart. But I do have to ask what you thought was going on? I've been playing 'hide my erection' around you for a full year now. I haven't been hard this often since I was fifteen, and back then it was at least much more random, it wasn't concentrated on one person who might notice. I was worried you would start to think I'd developed an unnatural fondness for throw pillows."

She gave a startled laugh. "Oh, that actually makes so much sense! I just never thought you saw me like that, it didn't even occur to me!"

"You ridiculous witch." He shook his head. "I have this gorgeous best friend who has no idea how attractive she is and likes to show up and my house in skimpy sleepwear whenever she wants to raid my library or just doesn't feel like being alone. She doesn't wear a bra and she has no conception of personal space. Merlin woman, I have all the respect for you in the world but I'm not dead." He'd pulled down the blanket and begun nuzzling her breasts again.

"You're much more of a breast man than I would have thought, given the witches you've dated in the past," she said with some humor, thinking of the slim, athletic types he usually seemed to be attracted to.

"I think I'm just a Hermione man, to be honest."

She snorted. "What a line."

He pulled away from her chest and looked at her very seriously. "It's just true," he shrugged and situated her head back on his shoulder.

She contemplated that. "But what changed, Harry? I've always been a woman, and it's not like you'd never seen me in night clothes before, how did you realize? Because if you hadn't come to me last night, I'm not sure how long it would have taken me to figure it out."

"Our dynamics changed," he responded immediately.

She turned her head to prop her chin on his chest and look up at him. "What do you mean?"

"At Hogwarts and during the war we were both just so wrapped up trying to stay alive. You were my support system, a lot of the time you were my entire support system. I counted on you so much, I don't think I could afford to admit to myself how very much you meant to me."

She blinked up at him. "You dated other witches during that time," she said, hating the sudden stab of jealousy she felt, and how petulant she sounded.

He gave her an indulgent smile. "I did, I was a teenage boy, and I wanted more than anything to be normal."

"I- yes, of course," she said, feeling stupid.

He snickered but continued. "But then, when the war finally ended and Ginny and I broke up, I no longer needed you for survival. We became much more equal in our friendship, peers instead of me being somebody that you felt you had to take care of. But despite that I noticed how much I still needed you in my life. I started longing to take care of you as well as you've taken care of me all these years. And it just became obvious that anything I'd felt for any other woman I'd ever had romantic intentions with, was a drop in the ocean of what I felt for you."

"Oh," she gasped.

He gave her a squeeze. "And it's not like I was unaware that you were an attractive woman before, but I didn't feel free to want you the way a man wants a woman, because I didn't have anything to offer you then. I didn't mean to use Ginny, but that's essentially what I did, and deep down I knew it."

"Don't think of it like that, Harry. That's why people date, to try on a relationship and test your compatibility. Sometimes it works and sometimes it doesn't."

"Hmmm," he murmured noncommittally. "Do you remember when I went on that mission in Russia last summer?"

"Of course I do, I was worried sick for two weeks!"

"I came home and there you were in my library, wearing my clothes, rearranging the charms section; which was especially amusing given the fact that you were the one who organized it in the first place."

Hermione felt her cheeks flame and she hid her face against his chest again. "I'm sorry, I suppose I was rather presumptuous. I just really love Potter House and I missed you, I wanted to be in a place that reminded me of you and your home is absolutely steeped in your family magic, it's very comforting."

He chuckled. "Hermione, you decorated Potter House, you oversaw the refurbishment of the gardens, you picked out my house elf, for Merlin's sake!"

"Winky needed a family!" She defended a little hysterically.

She'd written to Harry frantically after she'd returned to Hogwarts for her last year and discovered how badly Winky was taking Dobby's death. The poor elf had needed to bond to a powerful wizard to survive, and Hermione and just happened to know one who also needed an elf to help with the upkeep of his recently discovered ancestral home. But she had been a bit liberal with the terms 'a matter of life and death,' and 'come immediately.' He'd actually busted into the Great Hall during breakfast looking ready to take on Voldemort again- he was never going to let her live it down.

He tapped on her cheek until she lifted her face again. "Don't apologize for that, don't ever apologize for any of it. When I walked into the house that night and saw you there, I wasn't even surprised. You being there was what made it a homecoming. And that's when I knew that nobody else could ever be Lady Potter."

Hermione let out a little sound of protest, she knew how much Harry wanted a family, it would have been terrible if he'd forgone that had she not felt the same way about him.

He shook his head, obviously understanding her thoughts. "It wouldn't have been fair to any other witch. I would never be willing to give you up, and I would always have felt how she was lacking in comparison."

Hermione's eyes filled with tears.

"So, what do you say, do you want the job?"

She blinked and a few tears fell. "I-" she stuttered, "Harry, did you just propose?"

He opened his mouth, closed it, opened it again, and then wiped a hand down his face, knocking his glasses askew. "I guess I did. I'm sorry Hermione, you know I'm terrible at this romantic stuff."

"You planned a pretty romantic holiday in the Swiss Alps for us," she countered, still feeling dumbfounded by the turn this conversation had taken.

"If I had been trying to be romantic it would have been a failure. I just wanted to arrange something that we would both enjoy. We needed a break, you, especially, work too hard."

"You know that actually makes it more romantic, right?" She began to trace the planes of his toned abdomen and smiled to herself when he shivered. "The fact that you weren't even trying, you just wanted to make me happy. And let me say, you know me well, this place is great."

"I'm glad you think so."

Butterflies erupted in her stomach in response to the intensity of his gaze and she got lost in it before something occurred to her. "Harry, did you arrange this as an all muggle trip to keep Ron from trying to tag along?"

He winced. "Please don't say the 'R' word when we're naked," he pled, looking rather nauseous.

"The 'R' word?" She asked incredulously. "You mean Ronald?"

"Hey, he's my best mate, but this would be the absolute worst time to accidentally summon him."

"Accidentally summon him?" She scoffed.

She felt him shrug. "It wouldn't be the first time."

There was a beat of silence as she processed that and then she burst into a fit of giggles. She whacked his chest. "Harry James!" She admonished once she caught her breath, "I cannot believe you just made that joke."

She felt him place his chin on the top of her head and rub gently. "I really didn't mean anything by it, he is my best mate, besides you, and any other time I'd be happy to see him. Just not today." He sobered. "And yes, that may have been part of my motivation, all I wanted for my birthday was some time alone with you, is that so terrible?"

"Not terrible at all." She was very happy they were alone.

"And if he had come he would have brought Eloise along, and that would have been too awkward. It would have been like a couple's weekend and it would have been hard for me to pretend like that wasn't exactly what I wanted. I certainly didn't see this in our future," he hugged her closer to him, "I definitely didn't plan it."

She absorbed that. "He's going to be really angry," she said in a small voice.

"Will that stop you? Will you give us up if he demands it?"

She didn't hesitate, she'd made her decision a long time ago. "I'll always choose you," she lifted a hand to his face and cupped his cheek. "I would just prefer that he not push the issue, we've been friends for a long time."

Harry took a deep breath. "He always comes back," he reminded her. "He throws a tantrum and he storms out, but he always comes back because he genuinely loves both of us. I like to think that if he sees that we're happy together, he'll accept it."

She nodded as she stroked his face. "He won't be the only one though. A lot of Weasleys are going to be upset. And everybody has an opinion about what you do and who you have relationships with. They'll have a problem with me for all sorts of reasons."

"I don't care," he shot back.

She looked at him sharply.

"I don't, Hermione." His tone was firm and brokered no argument. "This is my life and I think it's about time I got something that I wanted. The public is fickle, you know that. The Weasleys, our other friends, they'll get over it if they really care about us. And if you're worried about Ginny, well, she already knows how I feel about you."

Hermione froze. "She does?"

"She confronted me and she was more understanding than I would have expected. I think it helped that I could honestly tell her that I didn't realize until after we had broken up, and that nothing even close to inappropriate had ever happened."

"Wow." She pursed her lips and nodded. "Okay," she said snuggling against him.

"Is there anything else?" He asked after a while.

"Just one thing," she said, hiding a smile. He wasn't going to expect what she had to say next.

"Shoot, sweetheart."

"You really want to marry me?"

He put a finger under her chin and forced her to look directly at him. "More than anything."

She nodded. "Okay then."

"Okay then?"

"I'll marry you."

"What?!" He cried sitting up suddenly, pulling her with him.

"Well you did ask," she reminded him innocently.

"Well yeah, but I was going to do it again...you know, better." He was just staring at her, his eyes huge with disbelief.

"Are you taking it back?" She bit her lip and narrowed her eyes teasingly.

"No!"

She just sat there, smiling at him as she waited for him to really catch on. It took only a minute before he was covering her mouth with his and then lifting her into his arms. She laughed at his obvious joy. "Where are you going?" She asked against his lips.

"To make love to my fiancée for the first time. I think we should try it in a bed this time."

"Okay, but I'm still interested in that table idea."

His laughter rang throughout the chalet and Hermione thought it was probably the most beautiful sound she'd ever heard.

Author's note: So, what did y'all think? I'm so nervous because this is my first time posting Harmony, or anything other than Dramione, actually. This little story has at least a chapter or two left in it, would you like to see that? As with all of my WIPs there's a Pinterest board for this story on my account, same username there. Just FYI: I started this because I wanted to write something Harry centric on his birthday, so it seemed fitting to post it to celebrate Hermione's.

For those of you who already know about this, I apologize, but something crazy awesome happened last week. I was nominated for some awards. They are hosted by the Beyond the Book Fanfiction Nook group on Facebook. I was nominated for best new author and a couple of my other fics were also nominated. If you feel so inclined I would be so grateful if you would go over there and vote. If not, I'd still encourage you to go over there and look at the list of nominees, it's all Harry Potter but with lots of different pairings: https*:*/*/*docs*.*google*.*com*/*forms*/*d*/*e*/*1FAIpQLSf9h-zaH8sTTErFV0GU*_R1bCLNUDW-HszRzcuH*J7Ikk3lCZbA*/*viewform

Just copy and paste and remove the asterisks. Sorry, I know that's a pain but this site won't allow links

Thanks for reading!