Hermione was finally finished with her Christmas shopping, and had just dropped off her packages at her parents' house. It was still quite early, and she was to meet them for dinner later at Aunt Celia's hotel. As predicted, Celia had jumped out of her skin in excitement when Hermione met her at the Heathrow Airport after not seeing her niece for nearly five years. Hermione's days since then had been a whirlwind of family and errands before the upcoming holiday, but today afforded her the time to look back at her goodbye with Harry at King's Cross.

She now locked up her family's house and set off down the street towards the town square, not much more than a mile away. Hermione enjoyed the long walk and the clean smell of the snow. It gave her time to reflect about something that was tugging at her heart.

Despite her busy week, Hermione looked back at the end of every day, wishing to see Hedwig perched on the back of her father's chair in the den. But days had past, and she was beginning to lose faith in her decision of asking Harry to put whatever he was feeling in a letter.

For the first time, she found herself nervous around her best friend. It annoyed her to no end the affect Harry had on her, and how she had no control over it. She had screamed into her pillow the night that she had come over to Harry's after her breakup with Ron, but where else was she to go? A secret part of her knew that Harry would understand, but she had felt so weak that night in front of him.

She looked back over her decision; where did it go wrong? Wasn't it a decent idea? Harry could be just as clueless as Ron when it came to feelings…wait- what if there were no feelings between him and herself? Hermione sighed and pinched the bridge of her nose.

It's possible, she thought. Hermione blinked back a few tears as she crossed over a bridge and could see the main square ahead. Hopefully she hadn't completely ruined her friendship with Harry…

But then Hermione remembered the look on his face as the train sped away from King's Cross. The look was no less heartbreaking in her memory than when she first saw it. So much that she gave a watery smile; it saddened her that she could do that to him, but it also gave her some hope for the future. If he didn't have the courage to tell her, then she certainly would be able to tell him. Just…not today.

Hermione sighed as she came up to the crosswalk and paused for a second, thinking she heard her name drowned with the honking of horns and the jubilant laughter of early shoppers. She spied her favorite bakery across the street, and crossed to the main park as a shortcut. She didn't hear the crunching footfalls of snow until Harry suddenly rounded the giant twinkling tree in the center of the park.

"Hi," he said breathlessly.

The first moment in days when she was actually able to think about her best friend, Hermione almost thought of him being a figment of her imagination standing there in the falling snow, looking like he had just run a mile.

The last mile that she had walked? Oh dear…he had ran after her. Considering that she was a witch, Hermione didn't have much faith in magical moments. This however…wasn't going to be ignored. For a moment, Hermione was dumbstruck. "Harry?"

The two stared at each other for a moment, until Harry sheepishly reached into the side pocket of the coat she had gotten for him. With a blush that crept up to her cheeks, she saw that it suited him quite well. He pulled out a letter and half presented it to her, but pulled back at the last second.

"I, um…took your advice. I put my thoughts in a letter, and I was about to send it when…I realized it didn't make much sense to." Harry looked back up at her, and then took a tentative step forward.

"I was reading it over," he said in a low voice, "And it occurred to me that the words really don't say as much as I wanted them to." Harry stuffed the letter back in his pocket.

"I was eating breakfast the other day with Ron, you know, um- talking quidditch and such. And I looked over and was just expecting your 'Oh honestly, I don't understand the appeal of a Wonky Faint.' But then you weren't there…I guess it's normal to imagine you there after all of the years we've spent together, but then the feeling kept coming back... Constantly."

Hermione's eyebrows knitted together, but didn't say anything for fear of not letting Harry finish. Harry took another step closer, nervously brushing the snow from his hands. "I didn't expect to feel like this when you left- the first time, I thought I just missed having my friend. But then I had a dream… back when we were in the Department of Mysteries…It was the dream where you didn't get back up."

Hermione watched with wide eyes as Harry visibly went pale and his voice cracked faintly. "I woke up practically yelling- I was running through the flat trying to find you, and when I didn't I nearly cracked, I thought you were actually dead. I nearly apparated to your Mum and Dad's house in my pajamas just to make sure you were alright."

"Harry…" Hermione whispered, and took his hand.

He swallowed visibly, and then took a steadying breath, "My um, point is… that I trust you to be there, and I think that's what's been scaring me. You were always there Hermione, and when you weren't- I guess my mind just went into this tailspin that you weren't going to come back."

Now, emotions weren't Hermione's strong suit, but she was finding it hard to keep her tears in check. She did the only thing she knew how, and launched herself at Harry, wrapping him in the most comforting hug she could offer. Harry wrapped his arms around her in return, sighing and burying his face into her neck and the curly mess of her hair.

He continued quietly as he heard her sniffling, "You know I'm sorry for pretty much everything, Hermione. You should never have had to endure what it takes to be my friend; it's caused you nothing but pain. But in spite of that, I'm going to be selfish now and say… I'm glad that you did because I really can't imagine life without you now."

Hermione's voice was muffled, but her warm breath was not lost on his neck. "I don't know why you thought I would ever leave you," she said with a sniffling laugh. "But for some reason I wasn't worried, I knew you would let me know someday."

"Of course you knew," Harry conjured up some of his Gryffindor bravery and pulled away from her slightly. He gave her a mischievous grin; pulling open the flap of his jacket. "You made my heart what it is," he said, as if the answer was obvious. Hermione didn't have to study the detail of the heart; she had already spent painstaking hours getting the stitching just right.

Hermione felt a laugh bubble from her throat and she smiled up at Harry, wiping her eyes away with the backing of her gloves.

Harry's eyes had never left her face, and now caught Hermione with their intense gaze. His head dipped down slowly, only pausing a moment before Hermione's upturned face. "Is this alright?" Harry whispered.

"Of course it is. That's what I've been wanting you to ask me," she replied just as quietly.

The two both smiled knowingly, and the last distance between them was closed in a soft kiss. Like Hermione's hugs, Harry found that everything else about the kiss were similar in emotion, if not better. And just as before; wonderful warmth filled his body, and the two forgot everything about the outside world, quite content to enjoy the connection that had taken years to put together. The thought made him possessively pull Hermione closer; loving the fact that she was finally close once again. The kiss slowed, and the two were finally tugged back to the present; opening their eyes and reveling in each other's smiles that were flecked with the falling snow.

"You have a date for lunch?" Harry said with an exaggerated deep voice that made Hermione chuckle.

She couldn't resist the smile the curled over her lips, "I do now, do you know of a place?"

Harry shrugged, "No, but some really good smells are coming from that bakery," he gestured to Hermione's favorite haunt. She smiled and nodded, and in a slow and now natural movement, she wound her arm around his waist as Harry draped a hand over her mass of curls and onto her shoulders.

The thick, falling snow enveloped the two as they set off through the trees, and a gentle world of white was finally all that was left to see.

What lies behind us, and what lies before us are tiny matters compared to what lies within us.

~ Ralph Waldo Emerson