AN: Sorry, about the color I didn't realize it had uploaded to such a bright color. Anyhow, here it is re-uploaded in a much easier to see color!

He dreamed of her again that night. He dreamt of her chestnut hair, cascading in soft curls in a luscious wave. Her eyes the color of cinnamon, sparkling with wisdom and knowledge that he only dreamt of knowing. Her smile stretching across her face like a brilliant ray of sunshine on a warm summer's day.

And she was all his. She kissed him feather light, teasing him with her taste. He yearned to touch her, to feel her smooth skin under his fingertips, to feel her warmth next to him.

He wanted to fill her with his very being, with all his love for her. He wanted her to feel how he felt, wanted her to feel the power of his feelings for her thrumming through her veins until she exploded.

Oh how he wanted her. Wanted her in a way that he had never wanted anything else in his life.

"Please," he begged in a soft whisper, trying to vocalize everything he felt in that single word. "Please."

"Please what?" her voice, thick with emotion, asked.

"Please, I-I-I want...you," he replied hoarsely, trying to reach for her.

"Well come get me," she purred seductively.

He reached further to touch her and his fingers went right through her.

"What the--"

His eyes snapped open, his hand in midair as if reaching for something that was not there.

"Bloody hell," he whispered into the darkness. "Another dream."

He let his hand drop back to his side on the coverlet, trying to relax his racing pulse.

Harry replayed the dream over in his head, trying to hold onto the last wisps of images from it, to hold them forever in his memory.

Sighing, he sat up, and slipped out of bed quietly. He padded his way across his darkened bedroom to the door and slipped into the hallway.

Running a frustrated hand through his hair, Harry made his way quietly down the hall and then down the stairs heading towards the basement kitchen of Grimmauld Place.

Pushing the worn wooden door open, he was startled to see someone sitting at the scrubbed table, nursing a hot mug of tea.

"Hermione?" he whispered quietly, "What are you doing up?"

"Oh, hey Harry," Hermione said, smiling tiredly. "Just having a hot cup of tea, couldn't sleep. You?"

"Same," he said, making his way fully into the kitchen and over to the stove. With a quick wave of his wand, the water in the kettle boiled and he poured some out into a mug, adding a tea bag and going over to sit with Hermione.

They were quiet for a few minutes, each sipping their tea until Harry finally broke the silence, "You still having nightmares?" he asked, worrying creasing his forehead.

Hermione looked down, studying her mug intently. A sigh escaped her after a few minutes and whisper, "Yeah, same one as always."

Harry's heart clenched. He wished he could take her nightmares away, with a flick of a wand and drive them away into the dark with a patronus the way he could drive Dementers away.

"I'm sorry, Mione, I-I I wish I could do something to help," he said lamely.

"I know, Harry, but I'll be alright. It's actually the first night in a few days I've had it. So I am doing better. Doesn't make it easier to deal with, but I'm getting there," she told him reassuringly.

Reached across and took her hand in his, giving a gentle squeeze. "I'm always here in case you ever want to talk. I'm an old hand at nightmares," he said.

"Thank you Harry," Hermione said, draining her tea mug.

Silence fell between them again until Hermione asked, "You have another nightmare too?"

Harry looked away, trying to think of what to tell her. How could he tell her he'd been dreaming about her for months now? That each one only seemed to haunt him more, that he was slowly going mad.

How could he tell her that he wanted to be with her? That he had more than friendly feelings for her. That he loved her.

He'd puzzled this over for a fortnight and still hadn't the answers. He'd puzzled over the idea that dreams were really a wish that your heart desired. And the idea that wishes supposedly came true.

If this was the case, he'd thought, and then he'd have had his wish full-filled a 100 times over by now.

"Harry?" Hermione asked, "You still there?"

"Huh? Oh sorry. Got lost in thought," he said lamely.

"Want to share? It might help," Hermione suggested gently.

"I-I I don't know if it will in this case, Mione. But thanks anyway."

"If you're sure," she said, eyeing him suspiciously.

He's keeping something from me, I can feel it.

"Yeah, don't worry," he told her, giving her a smile.

Silence enveloped them again, this time it seemed to be charged with things left unsaid.

Tell her, a voice seemed to whisper in his ear. No! I can't!

Why not?

Because she's my best friend! I'd lose her if I told her.

What if she feels the same way?

She can't, she likes Ron.

Are you sure?

Yes! She's liked him for ages now. Ever since 4th year!

If you say so, the voice finished snidely.

Harry ran his hand through his hair as he pushed his chair back and standing.

"I'm gonna try to go back to sleep," he said, putting his mug in the sink.

"Alright," Hermione said, her voice sounding as if she was disappointed about something.

Harry studied her; she was chewing her bottom lip like she usually did when she was worried or trying to decide something. From the look on her face, he guessed it was the latter.

"Harry?" she asked after some time, lifting her eyes to meet his.

And in that instant, he knew. He knew the answer to all his questions that had plagued him for so long. He knew as their eyes locked on each other.

And after a split second, she knew too.

"H-h-how long?" he managed to ask finally.

"Since third year. You?"

"Fourth at the...

“...Yule Ball," she finished for him, smiling.

"Wow, we are thick aren't we?" Harry asked, laughing nervously.

"Yeah, we are," Hermione, said, a smile spreading its way across her face.

"So what now?" Harry asked, still standing near the sink, this time facing her.

"What do you want, Harry?" she asked, never letting her eyes falter from his.

"You," he answered without hesitation.

"I'm yours, Harry. I'm yours."

He smiled and stepped closer to her, wrapping his arms around her waist, pulling her against him. And as their lips met in a tender first kiss, he thought that maybe dreams really were wishes and that they really did come true.

~Fin