That feeling that would linger and strengthen over the weeks, then months, then the years until, one day, it reached new heights as they danced together at their wedding. He went through the day almost entirely blind to everything but Padma, and barely noted who he spoke to, or danced with. It wasn't until he was flicked in the forehead by small fingers that he focused in enough to take note that he was dancing with Hermione. She was looking up at him with amusement written all across her features. It was the first time he'd seen her since he'd left for Mumbai. The first time he'd had her in his arms since... fuck knows when. With a distinct sense of satisfaction and peace, he realized that the only thing he felt for her was a sort of quiet fondness. Sort of like what he felt for Pansy. Or Parvati.