Written By: Summer Carlisle

Disclaimer: I do not own anything but the basic plot for this story, the rest is J.K. Rowling's.

Setting: It's the trio's seventh year, but it's not HBP or DH compatible.

Rating: K+

Genre: Unashamedly fluffy romance.

Warnings: Mild swearing.

Note: I wrote this years ago, so forgive me, it's not my best work


How It Was Meant To Be

Every look she gave him. Every word she said. He remembered it all. The way he felt about her could be only described as love. Nothing more (if there is an emotion more than love) and nothing less. He was constantly finding more things he adored about her. From the way she walked to how she said his name, he loved everything about her. If only she wasn't dating his best friend.

"Harry, come on, we have practice," the aforementioned best friend called up the steps to the dormitory. Harry got up and went down the stairs, and was met with her and his best friend kissing at the bottom.

"Bloody hell," he said, employing Ron's choicest swear words and pushing between his two best friends.

The pair turned to him with matching glares which Harry pointedly ignored.

"Come on mate, like you said, practice,'' Harry reminded him. Ron kissed Hermione once more and the two boys headed out of the common room. They made their way onto the grounds outside of Hogwarts and to the Quidditch pitch. The rest of the team was already there.

"Sorry we're late, Ron here was too busy snogging to be on time," Harry said, facing his team.

"Yeah cause I was waiting for you to stop primping," Ron shot back. Harry rolled his eyes and mounted his new Thunderbolt. The Thunderbolt was an advanced form of the Firebolt he used to have. The rest of the team had Nimbus 2001's which were somewhat outdated now. Harry was the captain of the Gryffindor Quidditch team and made them practice five, sometimes six times a week. He wasn't going to miss out on winning the Cup this year.

Ron was playing better than ever, as was everyone else but Harry. Dean and Ginny, of course, were playing as brilliantly as ever. Dennis Creevey was the newest team member, joining Dean and Ginny as a chaser. He was doing very well considering it was his first year playing. Peakes and Coote, the beaters, were also improving every day. Harry though wasn't doing so well this practice. All the times he had ever seen his two best friends kissing, cuddling, or likewise, were coming back to him, playing in his head like an endless slideshow that he couldn't stop. The Snitch zoomed past his face several times during that practice and he never caught it. Finally Ginny went out and captured it, then Harry let everyone could go.

Harry sat with Ginny that night at dinner. Normally he would be sitting with Ron and Hermione, but they'd skipped the meal and were in the common room. Harry refused to think about what he knew they would be doing in there, all by themselves. It wasn't a new thing to him though. He'd known they were having sex since their first time. Ron had come back into the boys' dorm grinning from ear to ear. That was in their sixth year. There was an ache in Harry's chest every time he thought about this.

Ron couldn't love her, because Harry did. Harry loved Hermione with every ion of his being and had since they were twelve. They were destined to be together. It was fate. It was as sure as the prophecy that said either Harry or Voldemort had to die in a Final Battle. And that had come true, right?

The Final Battle had taken place over the summer before their seventh year. The Dark Lord had used Death Eaters, Inferi, Giants, Dementors, and many others on his side. Harry had himself, Dumbledore, his best friends, and a slew of Order members and aurors. In the end, The Boy Who Lived defeated He Who Must Not Be Named, but not without severe loss. Lucius Malfoy was one of the first to die. He had broken out of Azkaban and joined the battle. The one person Harry wanted to die most (after Voldemort) was Bellatrix Lestrange, one of the top Death Eaters. She had killed Sirius, the only parental figure Harry had ever really known. Harry himself tried to kill her but she escaped when he was hit from behind with the Cruciatus curse. Arthur Weasley, Tonks, and Kingsley Shacklebolt were among those lost from Harry's side. They'd had a funeral for their dearly departed a few days after the battle on the Hogwarts grounds, and Harry had been there to comfort Hermione as she cried through the ceremonies.

Hermione was sure to realize she didn't love Ron. She had to figure out that Harry was the one she was meant to be with.

These thoughts were broken by Ron suddenly storming into the Great Hall and throwing himself down on the bench next to Harry.

"What's wrong?" he asked Ron.

"None of your bloody business!'' Ron yelled angrily. The whole hall got quiet. Even Dumbledore looked over to see what this was about. A moment later, Professor McGonagall appeared behind them.

"Potter, Weasley, what is this about?" she asked sternly. Ron ignored her and got up to leave. "Mr. Weasley! Get back here at this instant!" He did not respond and simply continued walking. "To my office, Potter." She instructed. Harry got up and followed her.

"What may I ask was that outburst about?" she asked once they were seated at her desk.

"I don't know, Professor," Harry replied honestly. Maybe he and Hermione weren't having sex after all, he thought.

"Mr. Potter, I am sure you are aware that Gryffindor is playing Slytherin for the Quidditch Cup in less than a week," she said, staring at him over the top of her glasses.

"Yes, Professor."

"You know how much I want us to win this, Potter. Weasley's temper could ruin our chances of winning. We must prevent that happening. You must prevent that."

After being interrogated by the professor about Ron and why he might've acted the way he had, Harry managed to escape and get back to the Gryffindor tower. He said the password to the fat lady ("What do you want?" she had screeched. "Wakng me up like this...") and walked into the common room. It was fairly late, and the common room was empty. Looking around, he found Hermione on one of the squashy armchairs in front of the fire, crying.

"Hermione?" he said gently, kneeling down next to the chair. "What's wrong?'' She lifted her head and looked at him. Her eyes were bloodshot and puffy and her cheeks were red and tear stained.

"Oh, Harry," she sobbed. "R-Ron and I g-got in a big fight..."

"What about?" he asked, absent mindedly rubbing her back comfortingly.

"Well, we've been sl-sleeping together for a while and today he wanted to but I said no and he was all frustrated about it. So I st-started yelling at him an-and he b-br-broke up with me," she cried. Her tears were falling faster now.

"Oh, Hermione," he said, standing up and pulling her up with him. "I'm sorry." He wrapped his arms around her and she cried into his shirtfront. "It'll be okay," he whispered into her ear. "Everything will be fine, trust me."

God, she is beautiful. Even when she's crying. Not even tears can cloud her gorgeous honey brown eyes, Harry thought. Her head was on his shoulder and her hand rested on his chest. He held her tightly and slowly began pulling her down so they were sitting on the sofa. She resituated some and placed her arms around him. The fire was slowly going out and he noticed she had stopped crying. Harry looked down at her and saw she had fallen asleep in his arms.

For how long had he wished this would happen? Sure, he was genuinely sorry for the couple splitting, but how could he be totally depressed when it caused her to end up falling asleep on him?

Harry woke up early the next morning and at first didn't realize where he was. Then he remembered. Hermione. He opened his eyes. She was leaning into him and he was laying against the sofa's arm rest. The sun was just now rising and it was a Saturday, so none of the other Gryffindors were up yet.

She looked so peaceful when she was asleep, he thought to himself. Or maybe he was talking to himself.

"What?" Hermione asked groggily.

"What, what?" he asked, wondering what had woken her up.

"Didn't you say something?" she asked, looking up at him.

"Uh, it was nothing," Harry replied. Suddenly she started laughing and sat up.

"What's so funny?" he asked, confused.

"Here I was crying because Ron and I broke up due to me not wanting to sleep with him then I go and sleep with you," she said as tears from her laughter gathered in her eyes. Harry didn't exactly see this as funny. Pleasantly ironic? Yes. He smiled at her as she began to calm down.

"Why are you smiling?" she asked him.

Because you're so beautiful. He thought. Or did he say that too? He couldn't tell anymore.

"Really, Harry?" Apparently he had said it. She smiled and didn't wait for an answer. "You know, Ron only ever called me 'hot' or 'sexy'. Beautiful is so much better," she said, absolutely beaming.

"Well, you are beautiful," he said quietly.

"So are you, Harry Potter."

He grimaced at her. She laughed and moved toward him.

"Well, you know what I mean," she said, her voice barely a whisper. He was about to open his mouth to reply but was stopped. Hermione pressed her lips suddenly against his. He pulled her onto his lap, his arms around her waist. She began running her hands through his hair as the kiss deepened. Their lips parted and their tongues met.

This is how it was meant to be, Harry thought. He was sure he hadn't said it this time though since his mouth was already occupied.