Harmione One Shots

Little Things

Summary: Harry has a realization over lunch.

Ship: HarryPotterxHermioneGranger

All credit goes to Goingtopigfarts on Ao3

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It didn't happen all at once.

No, it happened in increments. All the little moments, the little habits that built over time until he was drowning in it.

The little crinkle at the bridge of her nose when she was revising. The slow, exaggerated roll of her eyes when someone said something stupid (more often than not it was him). The gentle scent of her skin, perfumed only by whatever soap it was she used that infused her with a hint of jasmine. Each and every hug she'd ever granted him, holding him tight like she was anchoring him to the earth. The intoxicating feeling of belonging in her embrace.

All these little bits of his life in her presence had led him to this moment.

They had a long standing tradition of having lunch together. And so he sat across from her. And as the light dances across her face, highlighting her soft freckles, it comes to him. Ah, so this is love. Perhaps the thought should have startled him. But it feels as natural as his next breath. A simple fact that changes nothing and everything all at once.

He watches as her hands move while she spoke with passion, practically ignoring her curry going cold before her. The fire in her eyes dances as she explains her latest project at work, fierce and unyielding as she expounds on her ideas to get the Wizengamot on her side for the bill she's putting together. She has always been like this. Passionate, caring, hardworking. And gods, he knows she could do so much better than him. But that doesn't stop him from speaking up when she finally stops ranting to take a deep breath. "We should go out on a date." He says calmly. Her eyes go round with surprise and for a moment she simply stares at him in silence. It doesn't last long and soon she's sputtering, stumbling over words trying to escape and blushing madly in a way that makes him smile in satisfaction.

"Wh-wh-what are you saying, Harry?!" She finally manages, leaning in close like someone could overhear any moment and alert The Prophet. Even though they're dining in the muggle side of London at the moment. He leans his elbow on the table and rests his chin in his palm, observing her adorable reaction.

"You heard me. We should date."

"Oh dear god have you eaten something?" She demands suddenly. He snickers and gestures to his nearly empty plate, making her roll her eyes in that way she does. "I meant something laced with potion, you prat."

"I know what you meant, Hermione." He croons, reaching over with his free hand and lacing his fingers through hers. "And you know I haven't. I know better than to leave myself open to that." She huffs and stammers again, cute and uncertain and his thumb gently traces soothing circles on the back of her hand. "Look. I know you could do better. But I think we could be good together, and I'd like a chance to prove that. So what do you say?"

Her mouth turns down into a frown, and for a moment he's concerned she's upset over his little confession (does it count as a confession? He thinks so). But he should have known better. He knows her by now after all. "Do better?" She asks, voice severe as she leans in. "You are a wonderful man, Harry. You are brave, and kind, and sweet, and funny. Sure you tend to brood and you're a bit of an idiot at times." (Gee, thanks Hermione) "But anyone would be lucky to have you at their side."

"Anyone?" He smirks and she huffs a little. "So is that a yes then, Miss Granger?"

She's flustered, and that's incredibly flattering. "What about what everyone will think?" She asks uncertainly, though her hand remains tangled with his. And he knows, he just knows he has her. But she needs this, to talk it out so that she can process. And god, he'd give her anything so it's the literal least he can do to indulge her in this.

"Most likely they'll think we've been dating all along anyway and that we've just been keeping it hidden." He says cheekily. "But if you're worried about Ron, he'll be fine." She frowns infinitesimally and he knows he hit the mark. "You know he's with Susan, and he knows nothing has happened before now, least of all when you were trying to date after your eighth year. He's grown up, Hermione. We all have."

She worries her lower lip with her teeth and it takes more effort than he'd like to admit to resist from freeing it for her. "Well what about the Prophet?"

"They've been talking about our non-existent relationship for eons by now. We're old news." He grins, leaning into his palm and tugging gently at her hand. "What else are you worried about?"

Her poor abused lip is released, puffed slightly in a way that makes him want to soothe it with his tongue. Later, he tells himself. When she's feeling secure. "What if it ruins our friendship?" She asks, voice quiet and ah, there's the real worry that's ravaging her mind.

"Hermione, nothing in this world can ruin our friendship. You can reject me right now if you don't feel the same way. It will be okay. I'll understand." He says softly, staring into those big brown eyes of hers. "If we try for a relationship and it doesn't work, then we'll be okay. I promise you. No matter what happens, we will be okay." Her lip trembles, like she's still holding back. "So what do you say, 'Mione? Will you let me love you?"

Her eyes are shining, and the scraping sound of her chair is the only warning he gets before she's rounding the table and throwing her arms around him, hugging him tight against her and practically landing in his lap. His smile is soft as he wraps his arms around her and holds her close, not caring that they're attracting a bit of an audience of other patrons as he gently rubs her back. She's frowning at him as she pulls back. "You prat. You figured it out before me." She's pouting, he realizes. And he can't help but let out a little laugh at the sight of it. But he doesn't get to laugh for long because soon her lips are on his and he's lost to her, so blissfully lost as she kisses him stupid.

When they finally part, they're both blushing and she rests her forehead against his. But they're both smiling too, and he's so happy he could die here and now and feel fulfilled. Then again, he's died for her before. It's high time to live for her.

As they head outside once they've paid for their meals (with hers tightly wrapped up to go), he tugs her to him and holds her close as they traipse through the snow toward the leaky. But before they get too far, he stops and tugs her around, looking into her eyes. "Thanks. For giving me a chance," He murmurs before leaning in and pressing his lips to hers again. She sighs into him and he takes advantage, pulling her against his body until they're pressed together. She gasps softly and he slips his tongue in to taste her properly. And when they part for air, their breath mingles and creates soft clouds around them while their eyes meet and she offers a smile that makes him melt. A smile that says she's ready, she trusts him. And they walk through the Leaky hand in hand, ready to start their new adventure together.