AN: Okay this is a little longer than the first two because there's so much that happens. Hopefully you will all like it. Please let me know if you hate it, love it, whatever. It has been fun to write this. And I've enjoyed reading all the reviews, even though I haven't responded to them all, mostly because of the sheer volume at first. So a big thanks to everyone who has reviewed. *Big Smile*

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Godric's Hollow was quiet when Harry appeared in the middle of the snowy lawn of the house that had been his home for the first year of his life. The snow was falling gently, each flake floating almost lazily towards the ground, collecting on the surrounding sidewalks and lawns, coating them in a glistening white blanket.

Looking around him, Harry saw that many of the houses were decorated for Christmas with brightly colored lights and assorted lighted figures such as Father Christmas.

A feeling of sorrow swept through him at the sight. Knowing that in many of these houses, families were celebrating the holiday. Something he had never experienced except that one Christmas with Sirius and the one spent at the Burrow in sixth year.

But Harry always felt like he was intruding on both those occasions, the fact that he didn't truly have a family of his own driven home painfully.

And then when he realized that he was in love with Hermione, hope began to glimmer inside him. Hope that maybe, when the war was over, he could have a family with her.

Those hopes were forever dashed the day that Dumbledore died and the search for Voldemort's Horcruxes had begun. It was during that search that Ron and Hermione had finally gotten together. Forever dashing Harry's hopes of having a family. Because he knew that, he could never love Ginny that way, not when his heart bled for Hermione.

Of course, he had considered Ron's feelings once he realized his own. However, Harry had harbored the hope that Ron's feelings would fade or that Hermione would not return them.

“Yeah and that bloody well backfired in my face,” he muttered bitterly as he set off in the direction of the cemetery.

By the time Harry made it to the cemetery where his parents were buried, the snow had started to come down a harder, the wind swirling it about as it fell. And by the time he reached the gates, his black hair was flecked with snow, making it look like he had spots of grey in it.

Stepping slowly through the gates, taking care not to trample on the flowers laid on a grave just inside them, he made his way up the small lane.

Keeping his head down, Harry tried to keep the swirling snow out of his eyes, his mind working overtime as he walked; his thoughts confused and erratic. Part of him wanted to run back to the party and pull Hermione away from Ron. But the more rational part of him kept him where he was. Knowing that the first idea was completely ludicrous.

After walking for a few minutes, Harry looked up to see where he was. He was startled to find that he had already reached the site where his parents' graves were.

Snow sitting atop the two headstones glistened in the pale moonlight, adding a sense of morbid beauty.

“Hello, Mum, Dad. It's Harry again. I know I haven't been to see you in while and I'm sorry for that, but I just needed to come see you again. I guess in some ways I've done everything I was supposed to do, save the world from the ultimate evil that was Voldemort and all that. But what I wanted most was to have a family. And I thought I'd found the woman to have that family with. I've told you about Hermione.

“Well I sort of went and fell in love with her. I know you'd love her if you met her. All those things I never noticed or took for granted sort of all the sudden got my notice while we were looking for the horcruxes. The way her hair shines in the moonlight or sunlight. Her laugh, her smile. Her eyes, oh Merlin, her eyes. They are the richest chocolate brown I've ever seen. I could loose myself in them forever if I wanted too. And she doesn't think of me as the famous `Chosen One' and all that other rubbish. She sees me as just Harry. That alone makes me love her more.

“Things didn't turn out the way I thought they would. She and Ron got together 2 summers ago now. And you know for a while I thought maybe they were just trying it out, and they would figure out it would not work. But like everything else in my life, it did not turn out how I wanted.

“She and Ron have been together for 2 years now, like I told you. Well tonight, they made it permanent. Ron proposed, at the Ministry Christmas Ball. I did not stick around to see the whole thing, I know I should have, being his best friend and all, but I just couldn't watch him ask the woman I love more than life itself, to be his forever.

“So I left, and came here. It hurts, a lot. It would be like Sirius or Remus with mum, dad. I just cannot get over the fact that I will not know what it's like to hold her in my arms like Ron does, or what it would be like to kiss her; to see her face the first thing in the morning.

“To make love to her. To just be with her. It's like everything has shattered at my feet. I guess in a way it's my own fault. I never should have fallen in love with her. Then I wouldn't be in this mess. And I could be happy for Ron and Hermione right now. But I'm not and I did, my only regret is not telling her how much I love her.” When he finished talking, Harry was surprised to find tears streaking down his face, dropping into the snow at his feet.

He reached up quickly and wiped them away, taking a deep, shuddering breath.

“If I could have a chance to tell her, I would. And I'd give her this,” he said, pulling his wand from his pocket. “It's a charm I found in a book at Grimmauld Place of places, and I practiced it until I got it right. Hoping one day I could use it to give it to Hermione.”

Whispering a careful incantation, Harry swirled his wand in the air in an intricate pattern as he spoke until a glittering object appeared. It was a rose, a real rose, sparkling with the magic used to create it.

“It's called The Soul Mates Rose. They are supposed to be rare. The spell works by using your magic to create a rose that is unique to the soul mates, a physical manifestation of the love you share. It actually weaves your magic into the rose itself, along with your feelings. And since every witch and wizard's magical signature is different, there are no two roses that are alike. If it is done correctly, it should sparkle with your magic and it should be the color that you most associate with your soul mate.

“In my case this rose is a mix of the color of golden honey like Hermione's hair and deep chocolate brown like her eyes. According to the book, if your love is pure and meant to last, the rose will last forever. So far all the roses I've been able to create haven't wilted or anything. I wish I could say that's a positive sign, but I think that just reflects my feelings and not hers.”

Expelling his breath loudly, Harry stepped closer to the gravestones and intending to set the rose on top of it when a sound behind him stilled his movements.

When he turned around, rose still in hand, he was jolted to find Hermione standing behind him. Tears skittering down her face.

It was several seconds before Harry found his voice and was able to use it. “W-what are you doing here?” he asked croakily. He suddenly hoped she hadn't heard what he had said. He didn't want to cause any trouble between her and Ron. He kept his eyes purposely averted; he knew it would be his undoing if he looked at her.

Yet he couldn't stop himself from looking at her, from taking in everything about her. Her honey brown hair flecked with snow, her cheeks pink with cold, her expression solemn, and the tears still falling. She looked so beautiful and all he wanted to do was hold her, chase away her tears, and love her. But he couldn't, she wasn't his to do those things to. And she never would be.

Hermione's soft voice broke the still silence that had followed his question, drawing his eyes away from her. “I-I came here looking for you. Y-you left the party early. I couldn't find you, and I-I-I thought I'd come look for you. I figured you'd be here. Visiting your parents.”

“Yeah, I just suddenly realized that I really didn't want to be there anymore. I never liked that party. Even though I've only been to it twice, it reminds me too much of all the parties they threw after I got rid of Voldemort. All those wizards praising me. I had to get out of there. I'm sorry I didn't stay,” he told her quietly, purposely avoiding telling her the real reason he had left.

“Oh, I thought maybe….” She said, her voice trailing off.

Harry thought he heard disappointment in her voice, but quickly shook himself. You're wishing for things that aren't there, Potter.

Silence descended upon them one more and last for several long minutes before Hermione spoke again.

“Ron proposed to me tonight. I-“

“Congratulations,” Harry said quietly, swallowing the taste of bile that had suddenly risen up inside him.

“But Harry, I-“

“I know, you wanted to be the one that told me, and since I wasn't there, you figured I was angry about the proposal. Thinking I was going to feel like the third wheel. Well don't worry Hermione, I promise not to be a third wheel. I expect Ron will be asking me to be his best man then?” Harry was surprised that he was able to keep the bitterness out of his voice and speak with a relatively normal voice.

“I didn't give him the chance to get it out actually. I-I-I told him I couldn't marry him.”

“Well then just let him…Wait what did you say?” Harry asked bemused.

“I didn't give him the chance to ask. I told him I couldn't marry him. T-t-that, I do love him but just not the way he wanted me too. The way I tried to love him. A-a-and that I couldn't lead him on anymore. It wasn't fair to either of us,” Hermione said, her tears now clinging to her eyelashes like small, delicate pearls.

Once Hermione's words sank in, Harry felt a tiny flare of hope rise inside him. However, just a quickly as it rose, it died. He should not be feeling this right now. Hermione needed a friend right now. Not some moron with delusions of grandeur and love.

Therefore, pushing all his thoughts and emotions aside, Harry stepped closer to her and wrapped her in a tight hug. “I'm sorry, Hermione. I know what that must have cost you to say that to him,” he whispered against her hair as his hand gently stroked her back.

Warmth that had nothing to do with the heating charm in her coat, spread through Hermione as Harry's arms encircled her. For the first time in two years, she felt safe and secure in a man's arms. She felt as if she had come home after a long and difficult journey; which given the circumstances was not too far off.

They stood encircled in each other's arms (as Hermione had wrapped hers around Harry's waist), the snow falling harder than ever, coating them where they stood.

Pulling away slightly, Hermione smiled at Harry and was about to say thank you when she spotted the rose in his hand. Letting out a gasp, she automatically reached for it.

“Is that…?”

“…A Soul Mates Rose? Yes, why?” Harry asked, suddenly nervous.

“It's just well; they are supposed to be rare. Only really powerful wizards or witches can conjure them. And even then, they don't always last. They only last if the wizard or witch the rose is being conjured for is truly the person's soul mate. They say if that's true, then the rose won't die. They also say that only the two soul mates can touch the rose. Anyone else who tries gets a nasty shock,” Hermione explained, staring in awe at the rose in Harry's hand.

Harry swallowed nervously again. That hadn't been in the book; in fact, the book had been very vague about the rose's history and origins. He figured it was because either they were so rare, or that it was because the book was in the Black Family library. Maybe both.

“Is that right?” he asked, trying desperately to moisten his suddenly dry mouth. What if she couldn't touch it? Did that mean they weren't soul mates?

“C-c-cause the book I got the spell from, a book that was in Sirius' library for some reason, only said stuff about what the rose would look like and that it uses your magic to create it. It also said that if the love the soul mates shared was pure, it would live forever. I didn't know about the other stuff you just told me.”

“Y-y-you found the book in Sirius' library? Wow, I never thought there would be a book like that in there, how odd,” Hermione said, her voice trailing off as she started to think more on the subject.

“Yeah I know huh? But I thought they were neat and…” he trailed off, not wanting to reveal his real motivation for wanting to learn such a complex spell.

“And? You wanted to give that to the girl you love didn't you?” Hermione asked, her voice steady despite how she was slowly falling apart inside. He's probably going to give the rose to Ginny.

“Y-y-yeah, that was my thought. But I wasn't sure if I should…” he said, thinking of how the rose might just be a representation of his feelings for Hermione and not of hers as well.

But it seemed that Hermione had the answer, as if she knew what he was thinking.

“Harry, you don't have to worry. Apparently, that book of yours left out something very important, now I begin to see why it was in Sirius' library. What a way to drive someone mad. Give them that spell and their insecurities and uncertainties will do the rest.

“Anyway, what your book doesn't tell you is that the wizard or witch doing the conjuring has to be powerful yes, but in order to conjure one at all and to conjure one that doesn't die the intended has to be their soul mate. The spell is so tricky because it relies on emotions to feed it. Which of course your average spell doesn't. But the emotion flowing through your magic when you conjure it has to be so powerful, that it can create something like that. Something that comes from your heart. And your heart always knows. Even when your head doesn't,” Hermione told him, her heart now pounding furiously in her chest.

“Then…” Harry whispered his voice quiet. Looking back at her, Harry decided to see if everything both the book and Hermione said were true.

“T-t-then could you hold it?” he asked, hating that his voice was now shaking.

“I-what? But I can't I'm not-“

“Please?” he begged.

Hermione was torn. Torn between her natural curiosity to learn and her fear that the rose was not meant for her at all. Shaking her head, she held out her hand wordlessly.

Harry placed the sparkling rose in her palm and immediately Hermione felt such heat coming off the rose, she almost dropped it. Then the emotions that were embedded in the rose swept through her. And she knew. She knew for certain who the rose was intended. It was her; she was Harry's soul mate.

Tears welling in her eyes again, Hermione looked up to see Harry staring quietly at her, amazement shining on his face. When they caught each other's eyes, it was easy to read them. Love and happiness shined through brightly as ever.

“Me?” Hermione whispered, wanting confirmation that this was real.

“Yes, it's always been you,” Harry said before stepping forward and capturing her lips. The kiss was firm yet gentle, greedy yet not too much so, and to Hermione it was perfect.

When they broke apart, Harry leaned his forehead against hers and said, “I love you Hermione.”

“I love you too, Harry,” Hermione whispered, leaning up to kiss him again.

As the couple stood kissing in the gently falling snow, another couple watched them smiling.

“It's about time he had some happiness in his life. Though do you think it was a bit much helping him with the Soul Mate Roses?” James Potter asked his wife.

“No, I think we did the right thing. He would have found the book eventually. We just gave him a gentle nudge in the right direction is all. Right Sirius?” Lily Potter said, turning to look at the other man standing beside her.

“Of course, just a little nudge. Just like his mother,” Sirius cracked.

Lily looked at Sirius with a scowl before smiling and saying, “Come on, we've lingered long enough. We have to go back.”

The other two nodded and as they made their way back, Lily looked over her shoulder and whispered, “Have a great life you two.” And then she was gone.