A/N – I know, as usual, this has taken me forever! I had almost given up on it since it had been awhile but a week or so ago I received some review asking me to continue, so while you guys still wanna read it, I'll continue to write it! Hopefully a little quicker than I have in the past! Hope you guys enjoy this chapter, I've gone back to the cutesy stuff for a little while.

Disclaimer: Sadly, I own nothing. I do wish Hermione and Harry were together in the actual series, though.

Harry sat in a chair by the fireplace, and couldn't help but think about Hogwarts and imagine that the flames he was staring into were the same flames he watched intently in the Griffindor common room. Memories assaulted his senses, and he let himself be pulled back to a time where things seemed so much simpler, even though they weren't, not really. But there were good times—amazing times, in fact. He had the two best friends a guy could ask for, and he wouldn't trade that for the world. He wouldn't trade Hermione for anything. He longed for the days when they were still in school, with him threatening to throw her into a lake and her punching Draco Malfoy in the face. Every moment he ever spent with her was ingrained in his memory, and he felt that on this day he should remember those moments—for his sanity, and to keep his hope alive. Moments of their time together played over in mind, and he couldn't help the smile that spread over his face. Even when they were naïve enough to believe that they were "just friends", the times they spent together were the best he ever had.

'Harry, what are you doing up so late?' Hermione asked, looking up from her book as she heard someone else enter the almost deserted common room.

'I can't sleep. I keep thinking about the quidditch match tomorrow. I just want to get it over with!'

Hermione giggled. 'You don't mean that, you love quidditch. I know it's a huge match for you guys, but you'll be perfect. You always are.' The grin Harry sent her way caused her cheeks to fill with colour and she quickly turned her attention back to her book.

'What ya reading?' he asked her, craning his neck and lifting the book's cover with two fingers. 'Muggle fairytales? I didn't know you read this kind of stuff.'

She looked up from the pages of her book, of another world that she happily lets herself sink into, away from the hassles of the real world.

'There's always a happy ending,' she replied.

Tears rolled down her cheeks and soaked into the material of her scarf as she sat in the snow. She knew deep down that she was probably overreacting, and that soon it would be holidays and she wouldn't have to feel like this, and that really, she did have friends, but today had just been one of those days—one of those days when she felt completely and utterly alone. She heard footsteps approaching and shifted her head to face the opposite direction of her visitor, knowing who it was without seeing him. She knew he was the only one who would come, the only one who was always there for her.

'Mione, what are you doing out here? It's freezing!' Harry exclaimed, sitting down in the snow beside her and rubbing his glove-covered hands together. His hands stopped moving as he heard her sniffle quietly. 'Hermione, what's wrong?'

She curled her knees in tighter and wrapped her arms around herself, turning her head slightly but not so much as to look Harry in the eye. He put his fingers under her chin and turned her face towards his, moving his own head until they made eye contact. 'Hermione?'

She sighed. 'it's nothing, Harry. I'm just being dramatic. I'll be fine.'

'You've never been one for unnecessary theatrics, Hermione. What happened? Did someone say something to upset you? I swear to God if they did I'll—'

He was cut off by the burst of short laughter that erupted from Hermione. His look of confusion made her giggle once more and before he knew it she had launched herself into his arms, her legs in the snow on either side of his. She wrapped her arms around his neck tightly and buried her face into his shoulder as Harry chuckled gently and returned the action, breathing in the scent of her hair.

He pressed a gentle kiss to the side of her head, but other than that neither one of them changed their positions. 'Not that I mind, but what was that for?' Harry asked, rubbing his hand up and down her back as he heard her sniffle once more.

She sighed again and settled further into his arms. 'I just … I got a letter from my parents today, and I realised how much I miss them. I mean, I love being here, most of the time anyway, but I just felt so alone today, like no one could ever understand me the way my parents do, and I only get to see them a few times a year until graduation. But then you came out here, and you sat in the snow, and you're still sitting here after I practically tackled you, and I know that I was being stupid. You understand me. And you're my best friend, and you're always here for me. I'm not alone.'

If possible, Harry managed to tighten one arm around Hermione's small waist even more, while his other hand tangled itself in her hair. He dropped a kiss on the top of her head before resting his chin there.

'You'll never be alone.'

'You don't get what you do to me, do you?'

'I don't—what are you—Harry, I'm sorry!'

'You don't even know what you're sorry for!' He's frustrated and exhausted.

'So tell me! I don't know what I've done!' She's confused and afraid.

'You make me crazy! You actually make me want to scream!'

'I'm sorry! I don't want you to be mad at me!'

'Don't be sorry—just tell me that you love me!' He wants to hear it.

'I—what?' She needs to breathe.

'Tell me that you love me. I'm sick of this, Hermione. I'm sick of us flirting with other people to see each other's reactions. I'm sick of us pretending we don't care when we both know we do. I love you. Tell me you love me.' He's taking control.

'I love you. I'll always love you.' It's the first time she's ever said it out loud.

Harry lay on his bed at Privet Drive, resigning himself to another boring birthday all alone. At least the Durley's were too scared of him to make him do chores or hassle him in any other way. They would stay downstairs, and he would be content to sit in his room and read through the new quidditch book that Hermione had sent him that morning. God, he missed her.

Chewing on some snacks Ron had sent over earlier, he gave Hedwig some food and stroked her beautiful feathers before opening the book and settling against his pillows. He found himself quickly becoming immersed in the book, and silently thanked Hermione. He knew that she had probably thought ahead and figured he'd need the entertainment, and she knew how worried he was about the upcoming year of quidditch. However, by the time he had gotten to the third chapter he was interrupted by a knock at his window.

'Hermione!' he exclaimed, running over to his window to help her climb through. Taking in her appearance he laughed quietly; her hair was dishevelled and she was panting slightly. 'What are you doing here? Are you alright?'

She walked over to Harry's bed and collapsed onto it, breathing a sigh of relief. 'Well, I wanted to see you on your birthday, and my parents said they didn't mind, but we aren't old enough to apparate yet, and I didn't want to confront the Dursley's or hover outside your window on a broomstick—both because someone could see me and because I'm not exactly a fan of flying—so I figured I'd do it the old fashioned muggle way and climb up!' she said with a smile, before standing up in front of Harry. 'What, a girl scales a house for you and she doesn't even get a hug?'

Harry laughed deeply, wrapping his arms around her waist and lifting her up, spinning her in a circle while holding her tightly. She squealed and wrapped her arms around his neck, happy to finally be with Harry again after what felt like months. God, she had missed him.

He placed her gently down on the bed, before leaning down to kiss her chastely on the lips, then her cheeks, than her forehead. She giggled and tangled her fingers into his hair, pulling his face towards hers for a more passionate kiss. He returned it wholeheartedly before looking down at her and tucking a loose strand of hair behind her ear while they smiled goofily at each other.

Hermione walked down the stairs to the Griffindor common room, holding the skirt of her dress up slightly so as not to fall over (already a likely possibility in her heels) while the back of the dress glided over the surface of the stairs. This was her first school dance with an actual boyfriend, and she wanted Harry to be glad to have her on his arm. She knew she was being silly—he told her and showed her how much he loved her all the time—but still, girls all over school had been glaring at her since they found out they were a couple, and she was determined to show them that she was worthy of Harry's love, and she wanted to make him happy.

Harry stared, wiping his sweaty palms against his suit pants. He couldn't believe that he was going to the dance with Hermione, the girl who had been his best friend for years now. He was so lucky. He watched as she descended the staircase, her long lilac silk dress trailing along the floor and hugging every curve of her body. He knew every girl would stare in jealousy—not because she was with him, but because she was absolutely stunning, and it was about time everyone else realised that.

He walked up to Hermione and placed a corsage on her wrist, a beautiful white orchid attached to a lilac ribbon.

'You look amazing,' he told her, wrapping his arms around her waist. She immediately wrapped her arms around his shoulders, burying her head into his chest as a blush worked its way up her cheeks.

'Harry …' she said into his chest, smiling as she felt him chuckle and gently force her head upwards to face him.

'You do, Hermione. You always do,' he told her honestly, running his fingertips down her left cheek.

She smiled widely before pulling Harry closer to her, their foreheads touching. 'You look pretty damn good yourself.'

'Oh, really?' Harry said with a smile, wrapping his arms around her tighter.

'Mmhmm,' Hermione mumbled, eyes darting back and forth between his eyes—which were rather sexy and smouldering right now—and his lips, one side slightly raised in a smirk.

'Yeah?' He replied against her lips, 'guess we're two very attractive people then,' he told her, before closing the distance between them with a deep kiss. Neither of them could believe how lucky they were.

No year went by without a major drama—both within friendships and the wellbeing of the universe—and he knew that every moment was in preparation for the final day. Well, the final battle. Harry was determined that it would most certainly not be his final day. After all, he had a witch to propose to, and he refused to do that in a time of crisis. Their engagement would be in a time of celebration, surrounded by their family and friends, in a world finally free of their biggest enemy. Tomorrow, he would make sure that happened. No longer will Voldemort be a constant threat. He will fight, and he will win.