Disclaimer: Did not create any of the HP characters, etc.

Warning: Book 7 spoilers.

A/n: Just a little one-shot. I know it’s not completely sticking to the rules of portkey, but feel free to remove it if you find it offensive.

It had been nearly twenty-two years since Voldemort had been defeated. Twenty-two years of peace. In this time Harry had gotten married to Ginevra Weasley, had three beautiful children who now all attended Hogwarts School of Witchcraft and Wizardry, and had become an Auror, just as he had always wanted. He was happy, he was content, but even now he wondered if it would last. Living seventeen years of his life hunted by an evil wizard had taken its toll, and even though he was now thirty-nine years old, he often found himself absently rubbing his scar where the killing curse had rebounded.

Harry picked up the Daily Prophet and settled himself on the comfortable couch. He could hear the clock ticking on the wall, and lifted his bottle-green eyes to stare at the hands. He let out a small sigh and let his eyes fall back to the black and white print scattered across the pages. He was too distracted to actually try reading any of the articles, for Hermione had said she had wanted to talk to him but she definitely seemed to be taking her time. The owl had come nearly two hours ago with her note and yet she still had not turned up at his house.

Just when Harry was about to give up entirely, he heard a soft tapping at the door. Placing down the paper, Harry walked past the smiling faces of his family portrait on the mantelpiece and quickly crossed the room, opening the door to see his best friend of twenty-nine years standing agitatedly on the veranda. Her shoulder-length brown hair looked bushier than ever and was whipping in her pale face from the wind. He could see her honey-brown eyes, slightly puffy and red, glancing up at him with a troubled expression and there were large black circles under her eyes. It was a shock, and also worrying to see Hermione looking so uncomfortable and almost unhinged.

He looked beyond her to see the black storm clouds stretching over the pale, autumn sky, the trees blowing fiercely in the strong winds, sending colourful leaves spiralling through the chilly air. He noticed her thin, blue robe and frowned to himself, wondering why she would be silly enough to go around on a cold day like this in such an outfit.

“Hermione, please come inside.” Harry urged, leading her gently by the arm into the warmth of his house. He closed the door, instantly sealing out the howl of the wind and turned to face his friend who was now staring about the cosy house with an anxious expression. Harry was beginning to feel increasingly worried. He had never seen Hermione looking so upset.

“Is something wrong?” He asked gently, coming to stand closer to her. Hermione’s body shivered slightly, and Harry briefly wondered if he should give her his cloak, when she suddenly turned to face him, her eyes a little too bright to be natural.

“Is Ginny home?”

“No.” Harry replied, wondering why it would matter if Ginny were home or not. He watched as Hermione let out a shaky sigh of relief and then walked towards him, her face tilting up slightly to stare into his eyes.

“I-I needed to ask you something.” Hermione began in a choked voice, and Harry was surprised to see tears starting to collect at her eyes. Now he understood why they looked so puffy and red; she had been crying. He wanted to hold her and comfort her, but somehow he knew just to let her get whatever she needed to say out of her system before he did anything.

“Okay. What?” Harry prompted.

“Ron told me once that you look upon me as a sister. Is this true?” Hermione asked, her eyes staring up at him pleadingly for an answer. He didn’t understand why she was asking him this, and for a minute he had to think about what she was even talking about. He vaguely recalled saying something like that to Ron during the hunt for horcruxes, but why Hermione was bringing it up now was baffling.

“I guess.” Harry answered, his brow creasing together as he tried to figure out just what Hermione was getting at.  He watched her eyes close, tears spilling down the sides to leave glistening trails down her pale cheeks.

“Hermione, what’s this about?” Harry asked in a concerned voice. Hermione opened her eyes and took a shaky step towards him, her hands reaching out to press against his chest. Harry could only stare down at her tear-splotched face, feeling her breath against his face, wondering what on earth was going on. His heart seemed to be quickening of its own accord, and Harry could feel his mouth going dry with nervousness.

“I can’t be just a sister to you, Harry,” Hermione said in a low voice, letting her hands slide up his chest to rest against his cheeks. Their eyes met, and before Harry could even realise what she was about to do, Hermione had leaned forward and placed her lips shakily against his. He could feel her tears pressing against his face as she kissed him, and feel the absolute desperation within her, as she allowed her soft lips to press firmer against his mouth.

Harry could only stand in shock, his mouth unmoving, until slowly his hands moved with their own accord to wrap around her waist, as his lips started to move against hers. A pleasant, tingling sensation was spreading over his body and a heady rush was flowing through his brain, clouding his thoughts to make him only think about the beautiful, crying woman he was kissing.

Hermione made a small noise at the back of her throat, and pulled him harder against her, her lips desperately locked against his to the point where Harry thought they would bruise. He couldn’t believe he was kissing her, he couldn’t believe she was kissing him, and then reality slammed into him as he remembered Ginny’s beautiful face and his children’s laughter. He couldn’t do this. This was wrong.

“Stop.” Harry said breathlessly, forcing Hermione away. He stared at her face, seeing her watching him through those warm, brown eyes, though right now they were shining with the tears that had spilled onto his face as well.

“Why?” Hermione said quietly, a determined expression on her face. “You can’t deny that you haven’t wondered what it would be like.”

Harry opened his mouth to answer but stopped. He felt so terribly confused. He had been lying when he said that he only looked upon her as a sister. Those words stemmed from his desire to comfort Ron- to reassure him that he could never love Hermione, but they were just pointless words spoken in a desperate moment. He had enjoyed kissing Hermione, and he could not deny that he had often wondered what it would be like to be with her. She had always occupied a place in his mind and heart, but he had always managed to subdue those feelings. Now he wasn’t sure what to think…

“Why did you do this?” Harry asked angrily, not even bothering to give an excuse for his own behaviour. If she had just followed his lead and ignored the feelings then everything would be fine. If she had just stayed away then he wouldn’t be feeling so confused.

“Because I love you.” Hermione exclaimed tearfully, her eyes boring into his with despair. “I love you with every part of my useless body, and not being allowed to be with you is killing me with each passing day.”

“But you love Ron!” Harry argued. “You’re his wife, you have his children!”

“I do love Ron, but it is not the same way that I feel about you.” Hermione said firmly, her eyes sparkling with tears. “I’ve tried to suppress my feelings for so long, but I just can’t anymore. Your face is imprinted in my heart, and no matter how much I try to hide it, I cannot deny that I love you.” Hermione took another step towards him, her eyes urging him to understand. “I need you, Harry! Please, let’s just run away together!”

“Think what you’re saying, Hermione,” Harry said in disbelief. “Do you not see how insane this is? We’re both married, we both have children; it’s just being selfish to think like that.”

“I don’t care if it is selfish!” Hermione exclaimed heatedly. “I love you Harry! That’s all that matters right now! I am sick of this pain; sick of this empty feeling that lives inside me.”

“I’m sorry, Hermione. I can’t give you what you want.” Harry said firmly, feeling his heart break as he said those words. He had never thought that Hermione loved him, and he knew that he was not against the idea either, but he was married with children. He just couldn’t forget that.

“I love Ginny.” Harry continued. “I would do anything for her, and no matter how much you plead with me to run away, I just can’t. I’m sorry that you feel this way; believe me I did not mean for you to fall in love with me, but I cannot help you. You’re an adult now; you have a husband, and you have children. They are your responsibility, and I don’t want to cause Ron anymore pain.”

“Oh yes, it’s always about Ron, isn’t it?” Hermione said bitterly, the tears spilling from her eyes. “Nobody wants to cause him pain, never mind the pain that I feel.”

“Don’t say that.” Harry said in a quiet, yet forceful voice. He didn’t know what he could say to make her feel better, but he knew that what she wanted was not his to give. He belonged to Ginny, and no matter how much Hermione wanted him, or even how much he wanted her, he could not abandon his wife and children.

“Harry,” Hermione said desperately as she walked forward and clutched his hands. “Just please tell me that you love me back. Please let me know that I am not suffering this pain alone.”

Harry looked into her eyes, squeezing her hands lightly. “Yes, Hermione,” he whispered. “I do love you.”

There was no point hiding it. He knew it was true, but it was something that could never be. They had left things too late, and Harry knew their love would always be impossible now.

“Then why must we keep going like this?” Hermione demanded tearfully.

Harry pushed her hands away, not able to face her touch any longer in case more unwanted feelings came. He turned around so he would not have to look at her face, for he couldn’t bear to look at her tear-filled eyes any longer, but not looking at her did not stop the sound of her crying or her pain.

“Enough, Hermione.”

“But-”

“ENOUGH!” Harry shouted. He heard her loud sob before she disapparated with a deafening crack, the sound just as broken and hurt as she had been feeling.

He felt strangely empty as he stood there alone in the room, knowing that in his heart he had wanted to leave with her. That desire, however, could never be a reality. Ginny was his wife, and that was the end of it…