AN: Sorry it took so long to get this last one out. I went out of town and clearly didn't plan my schedule out well. Hope it doesn't disappoint, and I hope you're all having a good festive season. Thanks for reading!

Chapter Nine

The days leading up to the fundraising ball were highly stressful for all those involved in the planning. It was being held at a banquet hall in downtown Diagon Alley. Harry had spent quite some time contemplating whether to hold it in magical or Muggle London, but he was forced to concede to magical this time around. They would hold another one for the Muggles at a later date.

It was too much to ask so many wizards to behave in the Muggle world. They would need an entire team of Obliviators by the end of the evening.

Harry was excited, though he couldn't decide what was making him so excited. Of course, yes, he couldn't wait for the Foundation to be properly up and running, but he also couldn't wait for all of Wizarding Britain to know that he belonged to Hermione Granger, never to belong to another. Really, he would never belong to himself ever again, and he wasn't even remotely concerned about it.

Though, he had to admit that he was nervous as well. All eyes were on him. This Foundation was the all-important thing that he decided to do with his life after the War, and he was sure it would be heavily scrutinised. Harry had to do it right.

It didn't help that Hermione was already at St Andrew's. She was undergoing her mandatory faculty orientation, and moving into her dormitory, which left him free to do all that he needed to do. But he missed her. It was so pathetic, really, but he just didn't feel very Harry-like when she wasn't with him. How had he ever survived her year at Hogwarts? How was he supposed to survive her next four - at least - years at St Andrew's? Knowing her, there would be a Masters to follow.

There was no way that she would let him visit her every day. Would she?

Perhaps he could find some way to persuade her. She did claim that he was an extremely talented wizard after all, and Harry was all about living up to Hermione's expectations of him. He rather enjoyed actually doing something; and something worthwhile, because it was clear to all those around them that Hermione was proud of him.

To Harry, it was probably the most important part of what he was doing, though he probably wouldn't ever tell her that.

All Harry wanted to do now was be the best version of himself, for her, and he wasn't sure how she would take to that bit of news if she ever knew. It went beyond the fact that he loved her and it was also definitely so much more than the fact that she once told him that she found his ambition sexy.

This was what his life was, and he was determined to live it the right way. Though, it truly was a different kind of wake-up-call, having her living outside of the apartment again and, really, he couldn't wait for her to come home.

Hermione, admittedly, was experiencing the same feeling. Being at St Andrew's was great; it truly was, but she couldn't help feeling as if she and Harry were experiencing another change in their relationship. It felt like something big, but she wasn't able to put a finger on exactly what it was. Despite the fact that she felt like things were suddenly up in the air when it came to nearly everything; she felt grounded.

It was to do with Harry, she knew. There was something particularly calming about knowing that what they had now was so much more than just benefits. It was real, and it was everything.

He was everything.

Like Harry, Hermione was struggling to get used to being away from him. The first night she spent alone in her room, she'd barely slept. Her bed was just too cold, and the room was just too empty. She'd had half a mind to message him to come and spend the night with her, but she'd remained strong.

Her strength was quickly waning.

Hermione was just leaving the library after a day spent reading up on her upcoming classes, on her way to the mess hall for dinner when she heard it. Someone was screaming something. Desperately. It put her on edge immediately, though she only understood why that was when she could finally make out the word that was being said. It was her name.

"Hermione!"

The witch turned sharply, forcing herself not to draw her wand. How would she even explain that? Her heart rate rose dangerously, but then it calmed when she realised that she knew that voice. Didn't she?

"Oh my God, it is you!" the owner of the voice said, rushing towards her. She was a girl that Hermione took a moment to recognise as one of the twins she'd befriended during her first tour of the campus some weeks ago. "It's me, Sarah Jansen."

Hermione's face broke out in a smile. "Sarah, hi, gosh, I didn't even recognise you without your spiky hair. How are you?"

Sarah ignored Hermione's polite question. "Oh, I'm so happy to see you."

Hermione blinked. "You are?"

"I've been begging to see see someone familiar," she said, grabbing hold of Hermione's arm and starting to walk. "My brother's been so busy with his own orientation, and my roommate is such a bitch already. Urgh. How are you settling in, by the way?"

Hermione, admittedly, was feeling a little overwhelmed. "Umm, well, it has been a little overwhelming," she admitted truthfully. "But, thankfully, I managed to get a single room, which is nice."

"Oh, you are so lucky," she said, groaning. "I'm going to come and hang out in your room all the time."

Hermione hid her panic well. As a notoriously difficult person to make friends with; Hermione conceded that she might need someone like Sarah to latch onto her. Otherwise, she was bound to have a rather friendless university life. It also helped that her boyfriend was accustomed to Muggle life.

Hermione almost laughed. Wow. Harry Potter was her boyfriend.

"Have you signed up for any clubs?" Sarah asked.

"Not yet, but I'm definitely interested," she replied. "I haven't really been involved in many extracurriculars before. My school was very focused on Academics."

Sarah regarded her lightly. "You do look quite brainy," she said, sounding amused. "Eric likes brainy."

Hermione's eyes widened at the mention of Sarah's twin brother in that way. He was the boy who'd asked her out. Hermione couldn't even remember what she'd said to him, and she inwardly cringed at the potential awkwardness they might face if she were to see him again.

That dreaded moment came quicker than she anticipated, when Eric met them outside the mess hall. It was awkward at first, which was mainly because Eric didn't seem to recognise Hermione. The witch didn't think that she'd changed all that much in the time since she'd last seen him, but it took Sarah reintroducing her to see him click, and his face broke out into a wide, somewhat dazzling smile.

Hermione suddenly felt uncomfortable.

It also didn't help that Sarah was determined to make the situation as awkward as she possibly could by alluding to the fact that Eric was obviously still interested in Hermione every chance she could. It had the witch blushing like a complete fool, which made her feel even worse. She knew she was going to have to put a stop to it, but she wasn't sure how to bring it up. It would be too suspicious to just drop the fact that she now had a boyfriend into random conversation, surely.

Unfortunately - or fortunately, depending on how you looked at it - Eric gave her the opportunity much earlier than she'd anticipated, by asking her out again when Sarah got up to get herself some dessert.

"Oh, umm - " she stuttered, trying to figure out how best to tell the perfectly nice boy that she definitely wasn't interested.

Eric latched onto her hesitation. "It's just that, well, the last time, you said that you weren't really interested in dating anyone, and I was wondering if now you are. I mean, I know it hasn't been all that long since I last asked, but I'm asking anyway."

Hermione blinked. "Oh." She'd said that? Since when were English boys this forward anyway? "Well, Eric, as flattering as it is, I'm actually with someone right now," she said as clearly as she could.

He looked a bit shocked for a moment, but then he schooled his features. "Oh," he sounded, dropping his gaze for a moment. "Does he go here as well?"

Hermione suspected that Eric and Sarah would eventually meet Harry, so she decided that maybe it was best to remain completely truthful. "No, he doesn't," she said. "Harry lives and works in London."

"So he's already gone to school then?" he asked. "He's a lot older than you?"

Hermione could hear something in his tone, but she wasn't sure what it was quite yet. "He's actually a few months younger than me," she confessed.

"And he's already working? As what?"

Hermione steeled herself. She really didn't like Eric's tone, and something possessive was starting to kick in. "Have you heard of the Marauder Foundation?" she asked.

Eric thought about the name for a moment. "I think I remember reading about it in the paper," he said. "They bought out a whole street of houses in London for some kind of orphanage, didn't they? Does your boyfriend work for them?"

Hermione just nodded.

"It's a good gig then?"

"Oh yes," she said. "Very good. I'm actually attending one of their first fundraisers on Sunday evening."

They were interrupted by the return of Sarah, who plonked herself down on the bench right beside Hermione. "What's happening on Sunday?" she asked, desperate to get up to speed on their conversation.

"Hermione's going to a fundraiser with her boyfriend on Sunday," Eric said, sounding a bit more resigned about the situation. There was, undoubtedly, still a bit of bitterness in his tone but Hermione was sure that it would eventually fade away.

Sarah looked at her. "You have a boyfriend?"

"He works for the Marauder Foundation," Eric piped in.

Sarah squealed. "Oh my God, why didn't you tell me you have a boyfriend?" she asked in a hurry. "I've practically been throwing the two of you at each other."

Hermione dropped her gaze but refused to respond.

Then, Sarah asked a question that made Hermione's breath hitch. "Wait, did you say Sunday? When is your meet-and-greet?"

"My what?"

"With your faculty," she said, meeting Hermione's gaze. "They scheduled them for this upcoming week. They're supposedly compulsory. Especially if you're doing a double major. They like to know all the students."

Hermione thought back to her orientation schedule. When was her meet-and-greet? That hadn't been on the original timetable. She would have remembered. "I should probably go and check," she said, using the opportunity to excuse herself. The farewell was quick, with Hermione promising to meet up with Sarah the very next day for breakfast.

Hermione couldn't help her slight panic as she made the short walk to her dormitories. She was living in a rather tall building, full of other girls studying towards their undergraduate degrees. She'd met a few of them during the dormitory's own orientations but she wasn't yet friendly with any. It would take time, she was sure.

It'd taken some time with Harry and Ron. And, really, if they hadn't saved her from that mountain troll; would they ever have truly been friends?

And now she was more than friends with Harry. Finally.

How could they have both almost missed it?

The more Hermione thought about it; the clearer it became. She'd almost missed it because nothing had really ever changed. Sure, they started sleeping together, but that was just part of the arrangement. Nothing else had actually changed.

They'd been dating well before their arrangement, and continued to date right through it. Goodness, Ron was right about everything, wasn't he? There was no way that she and Harry would have been able to get back to the way things were before. She'd known. She remembered thinking it just after they decided to do this.

She would never tell Ron though. He'd get way too much satisfaction out of it.

Which was the main reason she'd agreed to go along with this elaborate scheme of Harry's. But now there was a spanner in the works. Of course there was.

Once Hermione was back in her bedroom, she quickly searched through her faculty package and groaned when she spied the amendment they'd attached to her initial schedule. With what she learned, she was forced to send off a message to Harry, informing him that she was going to be home in an hour, and she needed to talk to him about something important. She knew he would be home later anyway, but now he knew to expect her. And, if she were being completely honest with herself; she missed him quite terribly.

Somehow, Hermione managed to get some work done. The student in her was itching for classes to start, but she was definitely enjoying the entire orientation experience. The university really went all out to welcome the new students, and Hermione was enjoying her academic experience as a Muggle.

By the time she was supposed to meet Harry, Hermione had what she would tell him all planned out, though she was definitely surprised by what she found when she Apparated straight into his bedroom, a smile already spreading across her face.

"Harry," she said, laughing. "Where on earth are your clothes?"

Harry sat up from where he was lying on his bed - completely naked, save for his glasses and socks - and grinned at her. "Well, you said you were coming home," he said innocently.

"To talk."

He shrugged. "Same thing."

Hermione shook her head. "No, I really need to talk to you, so I need you to put on some clothes."

"Why can't you just talk to me like this?"

Hermione raised an eyebrow. "Please can you just put on some clothes?"

The way she said it made his grin fall away. Silently, he got up and got dressed, before moving to sit at the end of his bed. He waited patiently as she started to pace in front of him, worrying him. "Hermione, what's wrong? Did something happen?"

She looked at him. "I need to know something, Harry."

"Anything."

"How important is it that I accompany you to the ball?" she asked. "Because there's this, supposedly compulsory, faculty meet-and-greet on Sunday evening, and I thought, you know, I could skip it; but I don't think that I can, and I don't want to disappoint you, but this is also important and I don't know, it might be - "

"Hermione," he said, gently cutting her off. "Breathe."

She laughed lightly. "Sorry."

Harry stood up and moved towards her. He put his hands on her waist and forced her to look at him. "Don't worry about the ball, okay?" he said, trying to ease her mind. "It was just going to be my trying to get money from rich, stuffy people anyway."

"But it's your big night," she countered, sighing as she automatically slipped her arms around his neck. "It's the first time you really get to put forward all your brilliant ideas, and I want to be there to see it."

"We can borrow someone's memory of it," he said.

"Maybe I can come after," she said thoughtfully. "I mean, I doubt it'll take all that long, right?"

"Even if it does; it won't matter," he said. "I don't want you to worry, okay?"

Hermione's fingers played with the hairs on the nape of his neck. "But we had a whole plan."

"Did we?"

She laughed. "Maybe this is better," she said quietly. "This way, the evening won't be about us."

"Well, I was kind of looking forward to it," he admitted. "I really wanted to stick it to the press, you know? It would be great to be like, hah, I totally managed to fall in love with this amazing girl, and none of you suckers even knew!"

Hermione stiffened, her eyes bulging. "You what?"

Harry also tensed, suddenly realising what he'd said. "Uh..."

Hermione blinked. "You love me?"

Harry thought about denying it; of possibly playing it off as a slip of the tongue. The last thing he wanted to do was say or do something that would make her run. Because, technically, they'd just started to date, and now he loved her. What was he thinking? "Uhm..."

"Harry?" she prompted.

He steeled himself, realising that avoiding it had almost led to their ruin before. He was going to do better this time around, so he opened his mouth to speak, but Hermione beat him to it.

"Because I love you too," she rushed. "I mean, of course I love you. I thought you knew."

He just blinked, processing her words. He wasn't sure what to say at this point, so he resolved to do the one thing he knew he was somewhat good at: he kissed her. Despite all the kissing that they'd done since the start of their arrangement; this kiss was different. They'd kissed passionately, sultrily, and for the hell of it. But this one was emotional. Deeply, deeply emotional.

Eric who?

The moment that Hermione's hands snuck under his t-shirt and started to lift it up; Harry began to laugh. He pulled away to look at her face, his facial expression deathly amused.

"What did I tell you?" he asked, wrapping a strand of her hair around his right forefinger. "You just made me get dressed for no reason."

Hermione glared at him for a moment, before her hands came to rest on his chest. "I just don't want you to think that, every time I come home; it'll be for sex."

Harry stuck out his bottom lip. "It won't?"

She raised an eyebrow. "What if I just wanted to see you?"

"Naked?"

Hermione shook her head in utter defeat. "What am I ever going to do with you?"

He grinned at her. "I already told you that you'd never live a boring life with me, Hermione," he said, bouncing slightly. "And I think that we both decided that I'm rather kissable, so, you know, you could just kiss me."

So she did.

It was only much later, well after Harry fell asleep, that Hermione fully realised that Harry Potter had actually told her that he loved her, Hermione Granger. It wasn't particularly surprising, but it was definitely still overwhelming. After tonight; after the way that he'd looked at her, it felt like he owned her. She was his, and he was hers. By mutual - silent - agreement; they would never belong to another.

But now that they were together; Hermione felt a lot calmer about officially starting at St Andrew's.

Hermione felt happy. This was her life now. She was about to embark on the next chapter of her academic life, and there was this perfect boy who loved her. He loved her, always in some new and exciting way. Because, truly, every day since the admittance of initial mutual feelings had been a dream. A terrifying, happy, sappy, sex-crazed dream.

For some reason, Hermione couldn't get to sleep. Slowly, she disentangled herself from Harry's grasp and climbed out of bed. She quietly got dressed, and then left his room, in search of something. What she found was an extremely drunk Ronald Weasley slumped in an armchair in the living room, his eyes barely open.

It took Ron quite a while to notice her, and he jumped at the sight of her. "Hermione!" he squeaked, clutching at his chest. "What are you doing here?"

Hermione raised an eyebrow. "I could ask you the same question."

"I live here," he said, slurring slightly.

"As do I."

He shrugged, as he struggled to sit up. "I see you're talking to me now."

Hermione heaved a sigh, as she moved further into the room and sat down on the couch. A couch that held way too many memories. Really, she couldn't look one place in this apartment and not see Harry in some way. He was everywhere. And, really, there wasn't a place she'd been or a moment she'd experienced in the last two months that wasn't somehow marked by him.

"What did I do to deserve this honour?"

Hermione rolled her eyes. "You're being awfully dramatic, aren't you?"

"Am I?" he snapped. "How would you feel if your two best friend weren't talking to you?"

Hermione raised an eyebrow. "I actually do know what that feels like," she said, blatantly referring to the broomstick incident during their third year.

Ron glared at her. "I suppose it would be worse if you were actually not together," he said accusingly. "I mean, I'm not entirely dumb, Hermione."

Despite the severity of the conversation, Hermione burst out laughing. It was uncontrollable laughter, which had Ron quickly joining in. It was the stupid kind of laughter that made absolutely no sense, and yet they couldn't stop.

"Are you planning on telling people any time soon?" he asked after a while. "Or are you enjoying punishing me?"

"Do you feel like you're being punished?"

He nodded yes. "Though, for what, I don't know. I mean, I was just trying to help, and I just don't understand... Harry was so angry, Hermione, and I don't know why. You're together, for Merlin's sake."

"We almost weren't," she informed him. "We almost missed it, Ron, and I think he blames you for it."

"Why?"

"Because we weren't ready for the change," she said thoughtfully. "I mean, sure, perhaps sooner or later we would have figured it out, but we weren't ready, and it was almost like you were forcing us to make a change we weren't ready for."

Ron nodded in understanding. "And now?"

She smiled gently. "I love him."

Ron shook his head, trying to clear it. "He believes that you're the one for forever, Hermione. Are you as serious about him as he is about you?"

Hermione merely nodded.

Ron sighed. "Would you believe me if I told you I always knew it would happen?"

"No."

"Well, I did," he said happily, just managing to sit up straight.

"Don't be so smug about it," she commented, smiling at him.

"Smug is my middle name."

"It's Bilius."

Ron grimaced. "There's no chance of you ever forgetting that, is there?"

"Of course not, Weasley," she said, winking at him. "In this brain of mine it shall forever remain."

Ron closed his eyes. "Merlin, shut up; you're starting to give me a headache."

"You've been giving me a headache ever since we met."

Despite the insult, Ron laughed. "And that is exactly why we never would have worked out. You have more patience for Harry, and he does for you as well."

"Quite the pair, aren't we?"

"The Wizarding World won't even know what's hit them."

Hermione offered him a small smile. "That's the plan."

As expected, the ball was a complete and utter success. From the many VIPs to the numerous local and foreign dignitaries; it was turning into a night to remember. Harry was busy the entire night, making conversation with people both old and new. It was endless chatting up and talking about what he'd been doing for the past year.

Harry had gone into the evening with a prepared list of responses to the questions he knew were surely to come. It wasn't exactly uncomfortable talking about his year-long sabbatical, but he drew the line when they pried a little too much into his recovery from the War. Didn't they know that he was still recovering? The atrocities he'd witnessed didn't just go away, despite how busy he tried to keep himself.

It was in the quiet moments that he truly missed Hermione. He just hoped that she was having a good time at her meet-and-greet, forging relationships with her relationships by showing off her intense logic and scary intelligence.

Harry, of course, was roped into dancing with various witches, and he could tell that many of the single ones - and some not quite so single - were just waiting for him to make his pick for the evening. He was going to have to disappoint them and he was finally prepared to use the excuse that he was taken quite proudly.

Harry didn't notice when Hermione arrived. He was getting himself a drink at the bar, drawing out the action as much as possible. It was one of the first times he was actually alone for any length of time and he was going to savour it.

Hermione approached him as soon as she spotted him. He was the only person she wanted to see anyway. And boy did he look handsome.

"Harry," Hermione said softly, forcing him to turn and look at her. "Will you dance with me?" she asked.

His face broke out into a wide smile at the sight of her. The entire world seemed to fall away in that moment, and it was just the two of them. "I didn't think you'd come," he said softly, putting out his hand for her to take and proceeding to lead her to the dance floor. "Did you duck out early on account of me?"

"Definitely."

"I'm a terrible influence, aren't I?" he teased, pulling her towards him when they came to a stop, and slipped his other arm around her waist. "I'm so glad that you're here."

Hermione started them moving. It was a slow dance, and Harry held her nice and close, her body pressed against his. "I was probably the worst person to be around earlier," she admitted. "I was completely distracted, and I just couldn't sit still... but I feel better now."

"As do I," he whispered, hugging her closer.

Hermione just leaned into him as they danced, closing out the successful evening the way any other couple would: together.

Harry was the one to break their silence. "Thank you for coming," he said softly. "I didn't even realise how much I needed to have you here tonight until you got here."

Her eyes drifted to a point over Harry's shoulder, where Ginny was standing and gaping at the two of them. "Oh boy."

"What?"

"I'm guessing that Ginny will have a ton of questions for me," she said tiredly. "Oh, and by the way, Ron knows that we were messing with him."

"I know," he said, laughing lightly. "He was a little too concerned about the fact that you weren't here with me when I arrived."

"You've got to work on your Marauder-ways, Mr Potter."

"I'll bear that in mind for the future, Miss Granger."

Once again, they settled into a comfortable silence, as they danced a further three songs. Eventually though, Harry mentioned that it was probably time for him to do the final rounds and thank everyone for attending the ball.

"I'll be with Ginny if you need me," she said, stepping out of his embrace.

"I'll always need you."

Hermione started to wonder if this was how it would always be with him. Would there always be these endless moments of cute sentiments and profound words? Would he still continue with his deep declarations now that they were together?

Harry couldn't resist pulling her closer one more time and placing a gentle kiss against her temple. A flash went off somewhere, and he just knew that the picture would be in the early edition newspapers in the morning.

Hermione didn't move out of his embrace. "This is it then, isn't it?"

"It's a good thing the night is over," he said softly, his breath warm against her forehead. "I believe that I made us quite some money, Miss Granger. The orphanage should be able to begin construction as soon as the plans are finalised."

Hermione kissed his cheek. "I really am so proud of you," she informed him. "Truly, Harry."

"That's one of my greatest accomplishments already, Hermione."

She sighed happily. "We're going to be okay, aren't we?"

Harry nodded. "You and me, Hermione; we've got a love that even a blind man can see."

She looked him in the eye. Yes, yes it would always be like this with him. "I love you, Harry Potter."

He grinned at her. "I love you too, Hermione Granger."

It was rather late when Hermione made it back to her dormitory after her first full day of classes. She'd lost herself immersed in her lectures and tutorials. She's truly missed learning, and she intended to do all she could, now that, well, Harry wasn't constantly around to distract her.

Hermione was lucky enough to have a single room. Or not exactly lucky. She may or may not have used a bit of magic to make it happen. Harry had just raised an eyebrow when he told her, but he made no comment. It was better he didn't, because she really did it for him. It had nothing to do with the fact that she didn't want to end up with a roommate like Lavender or Parvati.

It wasn't that she hadn't liked her room mates; it was just that they didn't exactly prioritise the same things. So she was glad for her single room. It also offered her the chance to have her boyfriend spend the night without anyone knowing. It was against the rules of the dormitory, she knew, but there was no way that Hermione Granger could survive any substantial amount of time without Harry Potter in her bed.

As soon as she entered her room, Hermione could sense him. She couldn't tell if it was his magic she could feel, or just his excitement. Either way, she knew he was in the room, so she set her bag down by her desk and waited for him to reveal himself.

Harry took his time. He didn't show himself immediately. In fact, the first thing he did was switch off the lights, plunging them both into darkness. Before her eyes could even adjust to the new lighting, Harry practically tackled her onto her bed, moving to lie on top of her, his hands already roaming and his mouth doing wonderfully naughty things.

"Harry," she whispered, a stupid smile already on her face and her fingers flying into his hair. "What are you doing here?"

"I missed you," he growled, his teeth scraping along the line of her jaw. "So. Fucking. Much."

"It's been two days," she pointed out, squirming beneath him.

"And your point is?"

Hermione took in a sharp breath when his right hand snuck under her top and caressed the smooth skin of her abdomen. "I have nothing," she said, sighing happily.

"I take it you missed me too then?"

She wrapped her arms around his neck, hugging him close to her. "How did you even get in here?" she asked, speaking into his ear and making him shiver.

Harry kissed her collarbone. "Well, I arrived wearing my Cloak," he explained, his breath making her shiver. "And then I kind of hung out in front of your dorm until I could sneak in through an open door." He lifted his head to look at her face. "And then I somehow had to get into the elevator; and then I found your room, and I picked the lock, and I - "

Hermione abruptly cut him off by pulling his head down for another bruising kiss. "Later."

Fin