Harry still could not believe that Voldemort was dead. He lay on his bed in Buckbeek's old bedroom -now completely restored- at Grimauld Place, feeling a bit panicky. What if it wasn't true? What if he had not really found the right Horcrux? But he had he reassured himself. It had been a long and difficult path, along which Hermione, Ron, Ginny and the rest of the remaining Order of the Phoenix had giving him a great amount of help. They were the ones who had stood by him during the final war against the Death Eaters while he and Voldemort battled. He could still hear the maniacal laughter that Voldemort ad let out when he thought that he had had Harry just where he wanted him to be, when Hermione had dashed forward to help him. Even in his week state, he had felt what had helped him defeat the once great Lord Voldermort.

Love had conquered all in the end. Harry had realised that Hermione had loved him enough to dash forward to help him - an action that could have cost her life – and that once there was still love in this world to protect, there was no way he was going to give up! He also realised that he had felt a strange sensation when Hermione had approached them… he loved her!

He had never imagined that that twinge he had felt when she had been around him at Hogwarts for six years had been more than friendship. He and Hermione had done things and shared things that were too great to even begin to describe. He and Ron had never had that connection. She understood him more than anybody else in this world, and more importantly, more than any other woman in this world. Yes, he was beginning to see her as a woman. He thought he was going mental.

After all, she was his best friend. She is with that bloke Ron.

These were the excuses that were running through his mind, but he still didn't care.

So what? Ron doesn't own her!

He replied feeling even more frustrated. One minute ago he was thinking of Lord Voldemort, and now he was thinking of something as trivial as this. If he could have defeated Voldemort, surely he could talk to Hermione about his feelings, but he didn't want to mess things up in case she didn't return his feelings and he surely did not want to lose Ron's friendship. He was therefore torn between the two. He could have kicked himself right now if he could. With a pang, he wished Sirius was there to give him advice. Women were so damn complicated, and his Godfather seemed to be well informed when it came to things like that. It was now over 5 years since he was gone, but it felt like it was only yesterday….

'Harry, Harry… oh you're awake good,' whispered Hermione as she entered him bedroom tentatively.

She walked across to his bed and sat down in front of him. He suddenly became very conscious about how he must look having just woken up a few minutes ago sweating profusely, and with his hair that never seemed to lie flat.

'I just thought you might like to know that breakfast is ready. You're not obliged to come downstairs but we have visitors…'

It was the entire hint he needed to know that Hermione Jane Granger wanted him bathed, dressed and downstairs right away. Funny how he could read her so easily with such stupid things, but he could get in her head to know whether it would ever be appropriate to tell her about his feelings. Then he felt a punch and his arm which brought him back to reality.

'Harry stop staring you'll make me blush.'

Now it was his turn to blush. He had not realised that he was staring at her, plus the place where she had punched him on the arm tingled in delight. He wanted to hold her, touch that wonderful hair of hers that was always wild and unkempt in a good way, plus it matched his. Then he would…

'Really stop or I'm really going to be blushing,' she said playfully.

He had done it again. He could kick himself. He also felt a bit guilty because of the way that he was thinking of his best friend, and also because she was Ron's girlfriend even though Ron didn't understand how to fully appreciate this woman.

Snap out of it Harry and do something quick. The silence is becoming suspicious. He thought to himself and said quickly,

'Sorry Hermi, I was just thinking you know. It's just that it feels so weird that we can actually lead normal lives.'

'I understand Harry, I feel the same way. Plus now I can be open about my feelings for Ron without feeling selfish because I was thinking of such a thing when the wizarding world and the muggle world alike were in such danger. You get me?'

'Yeah…yeah I get you,' he replied trying to sound friendly.

A dark shadow had just crossed his face and his throat had suddenly gone dry. He had practically croaked his reply. Hermione had taken it as his emotions affecting him and had proceeded to pulling him into a tight embrace. His hands hung at her sides in shock at being so close to her, but he quickly recovered. He straightened himself on the bed and hugged her tightly, placing his hands a bit lower on her back than would be expected, but she didn't seem to notice. He placed his face in the small of her neck and inhaled her lavender smell deeply. He could feel her breasts smartly pressed against his well defined chest – which was this way because of his Quidditch games – and he could barely suppress himself. They were oddly hard, or was it his imagination? But he had liked it, and he could feel himself getting hard by the second, and he had to do something quickly, the embrace was becoming unbearable.

How could he be so perverted? It had just been a hug and he had managed to make more out of it. He shifted a little and broke the embrace slowly. Hermione got up a bit embarrassed at having hugged him so long and quickly began to apologize,

'I sorry Harry, it's been a while since we've managed to be alone and best friends need to feel reassured that everything's ok. I'm sorry if I appear to be a bit emotional, I almost lost you.'

'It's ok Hermi really. I deed need one,' he answered slightly relieved because his penis had stopped its upward mount.

'Ok then see you in the kitchen in five,' she said heading towards the door.

'Sure I'll be there.'

That was close, you practically threw yourself at him Hermione thought leaning against the door she had just closed.

She didn't know what came over her. She had become so self conscious when Harry had been innocently staring at her deep in thought, and when she had thought he had shown the least bit of emotion in his voice she had thrown herself at him while pressing her breasts against his chest. She let out a slow breath at that thought. It had been so heavenly to feel her hard nipples against his broad and well built chest!

Stop it Hermione Jane Granger! He is your best friend and you're with Ron now.

However she couldn't help but compare the two men in her life.

And was it me or did I feel something hard against my stomach? Surely I must have been delusional.

She straightened herself and chased those thoughts away. If Ron came to talk with her now, it would have been very hard for her not to look guilty. She then headed downstairs.

P.S. Do write reviews so that I can write more to please you. This is my first Harry Potter work.