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Time was a funny thing to Harry Potter. Since he learned about Voldemort, he never really expected to have much of it. The time he did have was marked in some way for everyone else. 

He never gave much thought to himself. He was always supposed to be there for others. He was the Chosen One. 

He had to save all the people he loved.

Including her.

How come he never could?

How come he never got the chance?

Hermione cried for days. Harry couldn’t bear the sound. It sliced into his heart in a way no other sound had ever done before. When he tried to comfort her, she brushed her eyes and pretended she hadn’t been crying. Harry only looked at her in a way that made it clear they both knew this was a lie but they wouldn’t speak more of it.

Each passing day brought new tears and Harry resented Ron for making their best friend cry like that. He knew part of these emotions came from the Horcrux but even when it was Hermione’s turn to wear it, he hated Ron for abandoning them.

He knew he was a shitty friend for thinking this way about Ron, but then again, Ron was a shitty friend for abandoning them. Instead of spending too much time thinking about Ron, Harry chose to think about Hermione instead. How to make her happy again.

The first smile he received from her made his stomach flip.

The first time she laughed again, Harry felt so exuberant that it had simply been because of something silly he did. Her expression when he grinningly pressed his lips to hers in triumph was one of shock, mild surprise and something else.

They said nothing more of it, choosing to laugh it off as a mistake born from too many emotions running high at the time.

When it became clear that Harry wasn’t going to die – at least not that time – he was met with all these questions. What now? That was the main one most people asked. 

What will you do now?

What are your plans for the future?

No one ever asked any questions about who might help him. Or who he wanted to help him.

He asked her anyway despite her reluctance at the time.

As it was, she had seen enough destruction and chose to return to school while he signed up for Auror Academy. That was the first year he spent apart from her since becoming best friends.

He missed her terribly every day. Even more so since Ron didn’t last long in the Academy and chose instead to help his family grieve and his brother to run the joke shop.

Suddenly, Harry had all the time in the world just to himself.

Ginny wanted to travel the world and he let her. He loved her after all and wanted her to be happy even if it was never with him. He never blamed her. Harry hadn’t been truly happy with Ginny for a while.

Hermione kept in touch via owl but it was never enough. 

Harry couldn’t stop thinking about her. 

That first kiss sparked something in Harry. He’d never known if they’d been back at Hogwarts. But with just the two of them in the tent he had all the time to turn it over and examine for all it was. It blossomed in his chest into a longing. Being so close to Hermione wasn’t enough anymore. He wanted her closer.

So he tried to hug her more, which she seemed to welcome. She relaxed in his arms and breathed easier. They weren’t always so afraid for their lives. There were times when they relaxed with each other and just talked. They talked about their feelings and things they missed.

She missed the simple things like sleeping in her bed and a properly cooked breakfast. And a shower taking longer than two minutes to properly tame her hair. Harry teased her, saying he liked her unruly hair, that it gave her more character.

He said he missed the things that would mean he could survive the war.

She grounded him with a kiss to this earth. She forced him to promise he would survive.  

He sealed his promise with another kiss that lasted longer than the others.

Life took them in opposite directions. Once trained, Harry was sent all over Europe to help capture any remaining Death Eaters. She stationed herself throughout Europe as well for her Healer’s training. They only met twice during those years. The first time was in Prague and only for an hour after a raid went rather badly. Hermione’s hands had been soft but firm on his head. Her touch lingered for days after, and they promised to keep in touch. Neither of them did. Both were swept away with work and life.

Harry sought her face in other witches. It was the only way he could function. He sought her kisses from lips that never tasted of her. He craved the touch of gentle fingers that never stroked his skin in the way she had done. Each witch he took to bed left him feeling less and less like himself.

The second time they met was in Italy and he got to spend an afternoon with her, yet it wasn’t enough. Because he didn’t get to hold her or tell her about all the things stored in his heart. She told him about Leo, her soon-to-be fiancé. She expected him to propose at any time.

Harry ended their day together by stealing a kiss from her. She didn’t push him away.

She just let him kiss her, take what he wanted from her. When he pulled back, a single tear slid down her cheek.

“You broke your promises, Harry,” she said before walking away.

They started making new promises to each other every day. Each promise was sealed with a tender kiss that often grew into something else. A touch here. A stroke of a finger along an expanse of skin there. Harry grew ravenous for her. He wanted more from her each time. She gave herself willingly when he pushed their boundaries.

They promised each other that it would stay between them. They would never tell a soul. Yet Harry just wanted to scream it from the cliff they apparated to the next day.

She melted like butter in his hands when he peeled the dirty clothes from her body. He was faster than her but allowed her the time to slowly drag his pants from his hips. Harry wanted to make her happy. He promised he would make her happy with each kiss he pressed to her skin.

He promised he would never betray her with each lingering touch.

He promised he would always be there for her when he sank into her.

He promised he would love her like no other man because she was like no other woman when he kissed her again and again and again.

She accepted all his promises and stored them in her heart with each motion they carved between them. She accepted Harry for all he was and could only be with her.

They shared a gasping breath each night after that, repeating their shared promises.

Harry burned every newspaper after Italy. He never wanted to see her name in print like that. He thought he never wanted to see her again. Except her face was all he saw whenever he closed his eyes. She was there when he tried to sleep, her smile radiant from the first time she managed to cast her corporeal Patronus and Harry had never been prouder of her. She was there when he closed his eyes for a deep breath, her eyes glassy with tears because some other fool had broken her heart and all he could do was hug her. She was there when he tried to force her from his mind with alcohol or another witch, her gaze fixed on him like he was the only thing in the world that mattered.

Harry was good at his job. There was a passion behind his drive to capture as many wizards as possible. He never wanted to see her at risk again. The image of her at the end of a knife or a wand still woke him many nights, gasping for air. He would always be on his knees in front of the hearth, floo powder in hand, ready to call her, just to make sure she was safe before he remembered she hadn’t accepted a floo call from him in years.

Owls were okay, she sent those herself. She explained that she could better handle the time it took to process a letter via owl. Floo calls were direct and far too emotional for them. That first one had proved just that.

So when those dreams tormented Harry from his sleep, he would either just fall back asleep on the floor or drag himself back to bed. The latter mostly happened when another witch helped him. Those days grew longer apart.

Still, he tried to push the image of her from his mind.

It never worked.

When Ron returned things changed. Harry kept his promises as best as he could. They both did. They never said a thing but kept looking at each other. Ron’s suspicions had been wrongly placed before. They weren’t anymore. By then, they burned into Harry’s back whenever he stole a kiss from Hermione when Ron wasn’t looking. Or when he silenced the area around his or her bed to crawl in beside her. She always welcomed him with open arms, urging him to be quick. Neither of them wanted Ron to find out. Harry took whatever she gave him. In return, he offered her his heart.

She accepted on the condition he survived the war.

Harry was promoted to Head of his department when he turned 26. His family and friends decided to throw him a party, asking who he wanted to invite. He could only think of one name he wanted to share it with. But he couldn’t say that. Instead, he told Ron and the others to invite the usual. The Weasleys decided to throw him a joint Birthday- Promotion party and invited as many people as possible.

Including her.

She showed up, wearing a knee-length floral dress that made her skin look golden and her eyes molten. Harry nearly dropped to his knees to beg her forgiveness. He knew she wouldn’t but he still wanted to try. He still wanted her to know. 

He still wanted her.

He watched her chat with all their friends, catching up, he assumed, as she moved around the place. The old tent canopy was drafty in the way it didn’t matter in the humid summer. Her dress flared around her knees and Harry couldn’t stop himself from thinking of a time when he had been able to count those three freckles on her left knee. He wondered how many other wizards knew about those freckles and the scar that ran through them.

She looked more beautiful than he remembered. He knew without a doubt that her face would haunt him even more after that day. 

Harry tried his best to keep away from her. 

He failed.

She moved closer without noticing him, yet he kept her fully in his line of sight.

He always failed when it came to her.

Only a few people stood between them before he could fully look at her again.

He had never been able to keep the promise that mattered most to her.

“Happy birthday, Harry, and congratulations.” Hermione’s smile was just as golden as it always had been when it was meant only for him.

If Harry thought the worst sound had been Hermione’s crying when Ron left it was nothing compared the to shrill horror-stricken wail she let out when Hagrid carried his body back to the castle.

It cleaved something in his chest he hadn’t been aware belonged to her before then. Yet he remained where he was, breaking every promise he had made to her. Even if he knew he hadn’t, but to her it was the truth. He had pieced her back together with those promises only to tear her apart in a single moment. By breaking the promise he knew meant the most to her.

Breaking that promise was the beginning of the end for them.

“Hello, Hermione. Thank you,” Harry said, never taking his eyes off of her even as hers flickered to everyone and everything around them. Harry could only look at her. To absorb every detail about her. The tiny ways in which she had changed and yet remained the same.

There were small lines around her eyes that told him she still laughed enough in life. But there was also a pinch between her brows that told him she scolded people almost as much as she did him and Ron when they were younger. Her posture was strong, holding herself upright even when he knew she felt the stares of everyone around them.

“Molly always knows how to throw a party, doesn’t she?” She said, attempting a small laugh to lighten the tension they both felt. Harry felt it more acutely, he tried to step closer but she stepped backwards when he did. She shook her head minutely, her chin dropping to her chest.

“She does,” Harry said, letting his arms fall back to his sides instead of wrapping them around her slim shoulders the way he wanted to. He cleared his throat.

“Where’s Leo?”

“Oh, he… He’s not here,” she said dismissively, waving a hand in the air as if it mattered little. Harry clocked the movement, registering no sparkle from her finger.

“What happened? Did he not propose like you expected?”

“Oh, he did.”

“And?” Harry pressed, desperate to hear her answer even if he could start to feel it in his chest.

“I found I couldn’t say yes. Excuse me, Harry, I can’t… I shouldn’t have come, I’m sorry. Congratulations, again.” She never looked at him when she spoke, only turned halfway from him, trying to swipe at her eyes without anyone noticing. 

She was a fool for thinking he wouldn’t notice. He was an Auror for Merlin’s sake. He knew he had to be careful. Years apart meant no one in the crowd thought more of it when Hermione excused herself so soon. She rarely joined them when they celebrated with so many people.

Harry gave her a minute before he excused himself from Molly, saying he would be back later, but he had something to take care of.

To his surprise, Ron cut him off before he could exit the tent.

“I’ll only let you pass if you plan to not shove your foot in your arse this time.” Ron crossed his arms, levelling Harry with a meaningful look.

“What? Ron, what are you on about? I need-“

“You need to tell Hermione the truth, mate.”

“What?”

Ron sighed, swiping his hair from his brow. It was longer than usual. Due to an argument with his mum and his stubborn ways, he was in the middle of growing it out in a similar style to Bill. Harry initially told him he looked like a prat, but in truth, it suited him.

“Mate, I’m not blind. Or as stupid as you think I am.”

“I never said-“

“Just shut up, will you? Hermione fucking loves you and you’re being an arse about this for some stupid reason I can’t understand. She’s been fucking in love with you for years and honestly, I hated you for a while but it was my own fault for leaving. I’ve dealt with my issues. So has she, in some terms. But you haven’t. I love you both, in different ways, mate, obviously, but here’s the thing. Right now, I love her more. So I say again, the only way you’re following her right now is if you plan to just tell her and for the love of Merlin, try to make her happy!” Ron huffed a long breath. Harry stared back amazed at the level of maturity coming from his best friend.

“Shit, Ron, I’m sorry, I-“

“Forget about it. Like I said, it’s my own fault. And I’ve moved past it.” He looked over Harry’s shoulder. Harry turned to see Ron catch the eye of Daphne Greengrass, smiling into her drink when she caught Ron looking at her.

“She really did a number on you, mate,” Harry chuckled.

“Best fucking thing in my life. So what’ll it be?” Ron uncrossed his arms, waiting for Harry to make up his mind.

It had always been made up. It had always been set on her even when she didn’t want him to.

It had always been about Hermione even when it hadn’t.

“I love her, Ron.”

“Then bloody hell tell her that, you twat. Go,” Ron urged him on with a shove to his shoulder. Harry stumbled a few steps before setting off to a run. He had lost sight of where she disappeared off to but felt assured she was still close by. The Weasley wards were still strong and even if you wanted to Apparate it was a short walk away from the Burrow.

His feet propelled him forward, praying to Merlin it was in the right direction. He almost barrelled through the backdoor to the kitchen when he heard her sniffles.

She sat on a bench under the small apple tree they had planted for Fred, a handkerchief pressed under her nose as her shoulders shook lightly. Her hair had come undone from the plait it had been in earlier and there were streaks of makeup down her cheeks.

She had never looked more beautiful in all his life.

She didn’t see him until he was on his knees, slowly crawling closer to her. She was startled when he placed his palms on her knees. The touch sent a shock down Harry’s spine from recognising her skin and body this way.

“H-Harry? What are you-“ 

He didn’t allow her to say another word. There was no need for it.

He let his mouth talk with a single action.

Another stolen kiss.

Her initial reaction was to stiffen, but Harry simply kept his mouth on hers. Letting himself reacquaint with the soft texture of her lips. Slowly, she relaxed into the kiss, allowing him to change it into something else. His hands framed her face as he gently sought permission to enter her mouth. When she opened to him, Harry wasted no time in deepening the kiss to what he had craved all these years.

Her tears fell in a stream he thought would never stop. She didn’t push him away but she never held him back either. It was another stolen moment in the chaos after a war was won. Everyone expected them to celebrate with someone else. But Harry could only think about her. 

Her piercing scream still ran through his skull even now.

“You broke it,” she sobbed, letting him hold her close. Her body was limp, lax. Nowhere in the way it had been compared to all the other times he had held her. He wanted to change it. 

He wanted to take things back even if he knew it was impossible.

“I can’t….” she shook her head into his chest where he pressed her closer. Her entire body shivered like he had never experienced. Framing her face with his hands, he gently tilted her head back to look into her glistening eyes.

“You promised.” There was a new determination in her voice right before he stole another kiss from her. 

If he had known it would be the last kiss he could steal from her for such a long while, he would have made it last longer. He wouldn’t have let Ron interrupt them. He would have taken her home instead. 

He would have made a new promise to her.

But she never let him.

“I came back for you,” Harry rushed the words when they broke apart. He could still taste her salty tears, leaning their foreheads together. His hands refused to let go of her when he could finally hold her again.

“W-what?” She pushed back a little to look at him. His hands slid to her shoulders in an attempt to calm her as he explained.

“I promised you I wouldn’t die. I know I broke that promise, even if I came back. You’re the reason I came back, Hermione.” Tentatively he stroked some of the fresh tears from her cheeks as she just stared at him in bewilderment. So he explained what she had never given him the chance to explain all these years.

“When I died, I was left with a choice. I could go on and be with my parents. I could be at peace.” He grimaced something akin to a smile because they both knew he would never be at peace in a situation like that. “Or I could go back. To end the war. Which I did. But that was only part of the reason. Hermione, I came back because of you. Because of all my promises to you.”

“You still broke the one th-“

“But I came back! I  know I died, trust me, I know, but I,” he chuckled in an effort to make her see reason through her determined stubbornness. Taking a deep breath, he placed her palm on his chest.

“I’m sorry I broke my promise to you. I tried. I really did. That’s why I chose to come back. I knew they could win the war without me once Tom had destroyed that part of us. I was only a small pawn in the game after that. I never chose to come back because of the war.

“I chose to come back because of you, Hermione. Because I love you. I’ve loved you since the first time we kissed. Since the first time, I held you in my arms. You’re a part of me that I can’t let go. Believe me, I’ve tried. Dumbledore said love was the most important thing for us to win the war. I was just too late to realise that it was your love that was the most important of them all. Hermione, I love you. Please,” his voice cracked, planting his head in her lap, placating himself to her. Her thighs were soft where he held her, not wanting to let her go even after all of this.

It took almost as long as he had lain in that forest. It pained him just as much as he waited.

When her fingers ran through his hair, he breathed a sigh of relief, falling into her. She sniffled some more as her hands roamed across his scalp, tangling in his hair.

“I’ve been so mad at you,” her voice was a whisper and he knew the words were meant for him and no one else. He kept quiet in her lap. He could hear the tears in her voice as she spoke.

“I couldn’t forgive you. Or myself for what I… what we did. I thought Ron and I…. and you and Ginny…. It would have been easier if I didn’t forgive you. If I had, things would have been far more complicated. Messier. People would have been hurt. So I convinced myself it was better if I was the only one hurting. Because you had Ginny.” She hiccupped, clearing her throat.

“When you asked me about Leo, I realised I had already forgiven you because I… because I love you, too, Harry.” He bolted upright at this. She still cried as she struggled to speak.

“I’ve loved you all these years when I shouldn’t. I’ve loved you when I’ve tried to move on. I never could. I’ve loved you from the moment you tried to cheer me up after Ron left. When he left, he broke my heart. You put it back together. I love you, Harry. I can’t stop loving you.” 

He didn’t need to hear more.

He just needed to kiss her. And never stop kissing her.

He rose to his feet, pulling her with him as their mouths sought each other in a frenzy. Twisting, Harry pulled her onto his lap as they kept on kissing. She wrung her arms around his neck, whispering between kisses, ‘I love you’. Harry repeated the words between every kiss he pressed to her mouth. Her jaw. Her cheeks where he kissed her tears away. Her neck. Her chin. Her brow. Her collarbone. Her shoulders. The inside of her palms before he trailed a path of kisses up her bare arms.

“I’ve never loved anyone the way I love you, Hermione,” Harry cradled her face to his before he made a new promise.

“I promise you’ll be the last witch in this realm I’ll love.” He sealed his promise with another kiss, sliding his tongue in to coax hers forward. She whimpered lightly when their tongues met. Harry dug his fingers into her spine, letting them ghost up to the nape of her neck where her curls tickled his knuckles.

“You’ve had my heart all these years, Harry. It’s why I’ve never been happy with another. It’s always been you.” She arched into him when he flattened his palms on her ribs, resting his thumbs just under her full breasts. At some point during their kissing and confession, she had shifted to straddle him. Harry felt the way their bodies pressed together in search of something neither had ever forgotten.

“All those years, wasted. Hermione, I-“ She stole his next words when she stole another kiss, grinding herself into his pelvis. Instinctually, his hands rose to cup her breasts. Her little moan echoed a memory he had tried to bury. The way his fingers splayed around her breasts was familiar yet unknown. 

Back then, they had been starved and just on the cusp of adulthood. Now, Harry felt every curve of Hermione and the woman she had grown into. Every soft fleshy part of her, as he shaped his hands around her breasts.

“I’m not sure I can wait much longer, Hermione, if we keep this-“

“I’m done waiting, Harry,” she paused to look at him. He recognised the determination in her eyes and it made him grow harder for her. Her eyes dipped to the place she sat across his legs, a small mischievous smile spreading.

“Here?” He asked, incredulously, even as he fumbled to loosen his wand from its holster.

“If you’ve forgotten all the wards and charms, I haven’t.”

“You do know why I’m being promoted, right?” He didn’t leave her time to answer as he spun them to the ground, flattening her on her back as he flung up every spell in his arsenal to ward them their privacy.

She hurried to cast a charm to her abdomen while Harry scrambled to take up residence between her legs. Her dress was easy to push up her legs as she opened them for him. Clothes were removed or pulled down as they kept kissing.

When Harry sank into her, finally, they both gasped for air, pausing.

It was a familiar and new sensation all at once. 

Under the shade of the growing apple tree, Harry took his time with Hermione as he pushed himself deeper and deeper inside her. He never wanted to leave her again. He wanted to keep her for eternity. He wanted to stay just like this, inside her where she would always be with him.

“Harry,” her voice sounded afar but soft, as she stroked her delicate fingers across the curve of his arse.

“Please, it’s only ever been you. I’m-“ she gasped through a moan when Harry pushed himself even deeper. He clamped his eyes shut at the feeling of her taking him this deep. It had never been like this before. Nor with any other witch. With Hermione, every feeling was heightened and he felt like he was drowning in her. He would gladly give up breathing if it meant this.

“I’m yours,” she finally gasped, before she whimpered with every minuscule thrust Harry executed. He wanted to make this last forever. He wanted her to come for him so he could feel it to make sure he hadn’t forgotten what it felt like. He wanted to do this forever with her.

She pulled him down to kiss her.

He followed her every step of the way, giving her what she asked for with subtle hints from her body that he was the only one who had ever been able to read.

He was the only one who knew how to kiss her throat through hard thrusts.

He was the only one who knew how to clamp his lips around the lobe of her ear when she started whimpering.

He was the only one who knew how to hold her hands above her head as he slammed into her, to the hilt, pressing their pelvises together. It was the one thing that made her shatter beneath him.

Just as she did then.

Her panting breath was mixed with hoarse little cries of her love confession for him.

When Harry felt her breathing relax and her walls shuttering slightly around him, he wrapped her arms around his neck, wanting her as close as possible.

He loved her in the tall grass with their slick bodies joined.

He loved her with his hands around her as he said her name when his release overpowered him.

He loved her with the rest of him when they calmed from the lustful storm that never seemed to have died between them.

He loved her.

He was never letting her go again.

“I promise, Hermione, to love you forever.” He kissed the promise on her lips. 

“I promise to continue loving you, Harry.”

She reached for her wand. Still lying beneath him and warming him in all the right places, she pointed her wand to the young apple tree.

A moment later, a small carving was in place; two H intertwined so much it looked like one letter. They gazed into each other’s eyes for a long time after that. Harry wanted to memorise this moment for the first of the rest of his life. 

Without even looking, he pointed his wand to carve a single word beneath the two letters.

A single word whispered between them, as they tenderly detangled sated limbs in preparation to dismantle charms and rejoin a party that was about to be the best birthday party Harry had ever had.

Always.