The Other Night

When Harry finished dancing with Hannah after a couple minutes, he returned to Hermione on the sofa. Soon enough, a crowd gathered around the couches and them, by association, and they became part of the vivacious dialogue of their peers. Lee insisted Hermione dance with him at one point and she promised him a dance before the night was over, as she was striving to gain some level of composure due to her tipsiness.

Harry and Hermione found themselves speaking exclusively with each other again after a period of time although the small crowd continued around them.

"Can I ask something?" he pondered. His left hand sat in between her right leg and his left, and he was staring at it as his fingers idly stroked the fabric of the couch.

"Of course. You don't have to ask to ask me a question!" she replied, rolling her eyes yet smiling.

"Why did you go downstairs earlier?"

He was stuck on her trip downstairs again, was he? What was it that had him so fixated?!

"I wanted to see what it was like," the witch shrugged.

"Is that all?" Harry questioned.

"I… I needed some air, I suppose. Air that wasn't in here. Why do you ask?"

"It's just that you seemed peeved when you left. And Parvati also said you left because you were angry with her."

Hermione felt blood shot throughout her body at his words and vaguely wondered if the flush was visible.

"Parvati told you that?" she wondered in a strained voice, "How? Why?"

"Ron and I were talking about how you and Ginny had gone and she mentioned that there was a good chance you were cross with her," he relayed. He continued to watch his hand; it was now closer to the bottom of Hermione's thigh.

"Did she say why?"

"No."

Thank God for small miracles. Parvati had at leastkept her mouth quiet about her theory that Hermione had been jealous.

"Hmm," the brunette uttered, feeling a brush of irritation.

"Were you?" Harry inquired.

"Was I what?"

"Angry with her?"

There was a long moment before Hermione answered but when she did it was:

"Earlier, yes."

Another pause.

"Oh," he uttered. The Auror's gaze continued to be riveted to his hand. He moved it languidly until he was touching the skin of the bottom of her thigh. The witch felt another flush run through her but this one had nothing to do with annoyance. She stared at his hand, too.

"Wait, you said I seemed peeved when I left-" Hermione commenced.

"I did?"

"Yes. Not long ago. You saw me- us- leave… were you watching me? Us?"

"No. I just happened to see you leave." Harry claimed. His hand started to move up her thigh in the same languid manner and her breath became tight in her chest.

"You had to have been watching us to see that cretin grab me and push Ginny, though," she noted, praying her voice was stable and not shaking in any sense. Her eyes remained glued on his hand's trek. Harry grunted in response to her statement.

"Why?" the brunette posited.

"Why what?" the wizard asked.

"Were you watching me then? Watching us."

His hand was now tracing muted, lazy patterns on the exposed skin of her upper leg, of the part of her thigh that was not covered by her dress. There was an extended bout of silence as they both focused on it, with Hermione feeling her heart slam inside her chest.

"Why do you think?" he asked in a gravelly voice. Harry then brought his eyes up to look right at her, not stopping his movements.

Hermione opened her mouth to respond but found she did not have one, and her lips remained parted as she peered back at him helplessly. What did she think? What had happened to her words? What was happening overall? Her brain had gotten uncommonly foggy uncommonly fast… maybe his gentle touch on her leg had something to do with that. She could not even bring herself to look down to observe that sensation; it was like once he had trained his gaze on her, she had become useless.

Harry, meanwhile, found his stare traveling slowly from her face (where her lush lips were hanging open) down to the rest of her, where her body was encased in that form fitting blue dress. His hand involuntarily squeezed the skin of her leg it was caressing. The color looked lovely on her and the dress complimented her shape so well. So well. He let his mind wander a bit as he remembered the peaks and valleys of her body- of her curves- that he had once had the opportunity to know on an intimate basis. Harry had always appreciated Hermione's curves once he had registered they were there, even if that appreciation had happened on a subconscious level early on.

Hermione, for her part, was once again thinking of his reference to their former sex life. Why? Why was she thinking it over, yet again, and why had Harry brought it up in the first place? She blamed the amount of liquor she had consumed. And his persistent stroking of her upper leg was not helping matters!

She finally closed her mouth and cleared her throat, although she seemed to be pulsing all over different areas of her body.

"I don't know." Hermione said at last, sweeping away a few of the tendrils of her hair that had fallen around her ear.

Harry's gaze had returned to her face. His fingertips slowly stroked up before moving back down, although the downward stroke was firmer. She let out a significantly shaky exhale, shutting her eyes for a moment. Why was she not stopping his touches, or saying something about them in the very least?

"Dance with me again," he muttered.

Hermione's head whipped around. Harry's hand had finally stopped, resting on her thigh, but his eyes were focused intensely on her. She had wanted to dance with him again since they had been interrupted by Ron what now seemed like eons ago, so to hear him suggest that they resume was more than encouraging. Encouraging, reassuring… exciting. All because her long time friend had asked her to dance.

"A-All right," the Muggleborn agreed as her heart soared.

He removed his hand from her leg and used it to grab her hand before standing and pulling her along with him. Harry maneuvered them away from the couches and back to the room's high windows, right back to where they had been dancing the first time. She followed silently, her heart still performing gymnastics, and when she was facing him once more she thought her face might be a tad red. He pulled Hermione directly against him before his hands moved lower to her hips while her arms found themselves wound tightly around his neck again.

The somber mood that had engulfed Harry on the sofa persisted and he said nothing as their dancing began anew. Consequently, he was staring at her ardently, as though there was no other stimuli in the room. Hermione wondered if she should say something but was unsure what that might be, and it was likely a useless consideration anyway because his unwavering stare quickly pulled her in.

The song that was playing was quirky and fast paced yet the two were moving a bit slower than what the beat demanded. The brunette's heart rate had not really calmed any to her fascination and annoyance, and it in fact stuttered when she felt Harry start to guide her hips how he wanted. She chewed on her bottom lip momentarily as she continued to peer in his eyes but when she felt that magnetism that had been present all night become a little too strong, Hermione closed her own eyes and wove her arms as tightly as they would go before resting her head on his chest. At this proximity, she felt and heard his deep intake of breath and felt rather comforted by it.

They moved this way in a pleased manner for a minute or two. Accordingly, Harry's gaze roved over the parts of his best friend's body that he could see… her hair (which smelled particularly nice), her shoulders, her back (which looked slightly arched as she leaned into him), the enticing slope of her lower back... her hips, where his hands were… the swell of her rear. He grit his teeth. His hands began to itch. They wanted to explore.

Harry waited until the second song to allow his hands to slowly wander, feeling an electric charge kickstart and buzz throughout his own body. He took a deliberate whiff of her hair before his hands tenderly rubbed her shoulders then traveled down her shoulder blades. He dragged them down her back before swiping up and down her sides a few times, his nose nuzzling her bun in order to get more of the inviting scent. Hermione bit down a groan and tried to further burrow her head into Harry's chest when she felt his hands roaming her back. She knew her face must be red now and was partially glad that he could not see it since it was pressed into his sternum. His touches felt wonderful.

His hands made it to her lower back and he rubbed the expanse of it before his fingers dipped a little lower, to the very top of where the curve of her ass began. Harry swallowed hard and pressed her into him more, his fingers dying to keep moving south. Watch yourself, he told himself. As an alternative to running over the hump of her derriere, his hands moved to the sides of her hips where they gripped the cloth of her dress, causing the material to vaguely bunch. He had avoided caressing her ass but that had not meant it had been easy to do, and it surely did not keep him from watching it now.

Hermione could hear Harry's heart pumping and it had only gotten faster and louder with each passing minute. He was in an excited state? This knowledge made the pulsing of her body become more heightened, as she was certain it had to do with their dancing and their closeness. He was physiologically stimulated by this? By her? The notion of this made the witch feel light headed; her brain normally would have commenced firing off analyzing questions, but Hermione had been drinking and she simply wanted to enjoy the sensations of grooving with Harry in such a familiar way.

Her arms had fallen from his neck and her hands now clutched at his back, her head still pressed firmly against his chest. She let out a sigh that bordered on a faint moan when she felt Harry's fingers dip lower until they reached the end of her dress, prior to him grasping at the skin there and pulling up the fabric in order to be able to grip more skin. The next thing Hermione knew, his head was dipped next to hers and he was whispering in her ear.

"Turn around," he instructed rather breathlessly, "I-I want to dance that way."

She pulled away, at last, and peered up at him, feeling partially dazed. Harry looked a lot like how she currently felt and she imagined she must have looked very similar to him. He wanted her to face away from him now… all right. (Truthfully, Hermione felt like she would have done much of anything he asked, without question, in this state). She gave a tiny nod then let her arms drop from his back and took a couple steps away from him.

Harry pulled the Muggleborn against him the instant she had turned to face the window. His arms were snaked right below her breasts and around her navel, and he received a strong waft of the smell of her hair due to her movement. He pushed his hips forward involuntarily as his fingers squeezed the areas of flesh they were holding. A broken groan managed to find its way from his throat. Immediately, Harry knew he had made a mistake by having Hermione change her position.

If the urge to touch and feel her backside had been raucous when she had been facing him and he had had the perfect view to look at it, that urge would easily become a frenzy with her turned away from him. Looking paled in comparison to feeling and he could definitely feel her ass pressed against him, against his crotch, which would surely present a dilemma as this specific area was becoming progressively more aroused the longer they were close.

Harry felt robbed of breath so shut his eyes to center himself, his arms hugging tighter around her. The problem with this was he unintentionally brushed the underside of Hermione's breast. He felt his entire body react and his eyes flew open. He gazed at her from this new angle, wondering how no one in the room had noticed how impossibly loud his heart was banging in his rib cage. Harry wanted to do it again- wanted to feel that sensation again. There was a weak moment of protest from some region of his brain but it was swiftly silenced by the region of his brain that controlled pleasure. Throwing caution to the wind, he repeated the move and brushed her breast's underside once more, intentionally, this time, and a little slower.

He was rewarded by Hermione instinctively arching her back a tad and grasping at his pants with both hands. Harry's heart rate only increased. A primal part of him had awakened surprisingly fast and it was becoming more demanding. More bold and adventurous. He wanted more responses from her.

Harry peered at her body from this new angle. Her throat was visible and exposed to him… her chest was thrown out out enticingly... the flat expanse of her stomach could be seen and felt through the dress… her legs present to his eyes now. His gaze fell back to Hermione's breasts. Like he had with her ass, Harry felt a strong compulsion to put his hands on them: to palm, to knead, to squeeze. And as much as he was being driven by this primal instinct, he could not bring himself to be that brazen… not right now. Accordingly, he settled for an alternative like he had done before, and lightly stroked the sides of her breasts with his thumbs while he released a long, shaky exhale.

Hermione felt as though she were in an oven. It was difficult to breathe normally, she was hot, and she was steadily getting warmer all over as the seconds ticked by. The gentle yet confident roving of Harry's hands on the different areas of her body was hypnotizing, and she felt she did not want to ruin this flawless point in time by saying anything unnecessary. Was he even fully aware that he was touching her like this? Did he know it was making her lose any kind of reason?

When Hermione felt him repeatedly graze the sides of her breasts, her eyes closed and her head fell back against his shoulder as a small noise came from her. Her hands were still gripping his slacks but more fixedly now. Harry stared at her face, where those damned, lush lips of hers were open again, before he focused on her neck. It was barred to him with her in this position and the lights of the club played on its surface, making it look like a supple kaleidoscope. Harry felt another urge to groan as he peered at it. It looked positively perfect for… for licking, for sucking… and he realized that is precisely what he wanted to do to it. All he had to do was bend his head down a fraction and place his lips there!

Harry let out that groan. He forced himself to tear his gaze away from Hermione's throat as he could envision himself lavishing it with his mouth. He closed his eyes, his breathing becoming ladened, and dropped his forehead on her right shoulder. The primal side of him was clamorous right about now and it was causing him to breathe heavily against her. Both of them had stopped paying attention to the music. They were unaware if they were still moving to the rhythm of the song or had made their own but they also could not have cared less. Something odd had happened on that sofa and now it appeared to be reaching a fervor pitch.

Harry's mind was shouting at him to do something, that he had to maintain this feeling and even intensify it. His mind was somewhat dizzy with thoughts of her neck, of her chest and her ass, and his hands ran themselves over her hips once more- firmly, this time- while he attempted to stomp out the persistent desire to lavish these forbidden areas with riotous attention. The Auror's images of these coveted parts of Hermione must have been vivid and commanding because, unconsciously, his hands stilled and he jutted his pelvis forward a few times with her right against him.

Hermione's eyes wrenched open and her heart stopped when she felt his mild rutting.

"Oh!" she uttered.

She could hear Harry's open mouthed breathing as his head remained near hers, and it was labored and fast. This observation, along with the feel of leaning into and being surrounded by his solid chest, only made everything quicken for her as well. Her lips were dry and she licked them. One of her hands went to find his as his warm breath became directed at her throat, and it was trembling a tad as it came to rest on his left hand. Maybe now Hermione should venture to say something? Maybe? Harry seemed… captive, to their closeness, and she was hurtling down the same path at an alarming speed.

"Harry," she manage to get out, staring out at the club below them in a stupified manner. There was a moment of silence as the wizard lifted his head some, closer to her right ear.

"Yes?" came the raspy reply. Hermione made a sound that was half moan. Even his voice sounded electrifying….

Harry was unsure if this noise of hers was a trigger or not but he grinded himself against her again immediately following it, hands shooting up to securely hold her waist. He felt her rear pressed deliciously against him and he could not stop the choked noise that arose. Two more instances of moving like this and Harry was gone, in more than one sense. His arousal was now fully fledged and considerably difficult to reign in, but with how he felt right now, he did not want to exercise control over it.

Hermione gasped when she felt Harry start to grind against her in an unwavering manner. Before, it had been a thrilling, sporadic act that she had been aware of but now- now he was doing it continuously as his hold on her tightened. And now- now the evidence of his arousal could not be denied and was very much prodding against her ass. Before she was totally aware of what she was doing, Hermione found herself instinctively moving back into Harry's forward thrusts, eyelids fluttering as she fought to get an adequate amount of air in her lungs. She did not know what her hands were clutching at now but it did not matter, as they were not giving her the stimulation that the wizard's groin currently was.

Harry started panting when he felt his best friend push back against his pelvis and it was enough to nearly make him lose it. His forehead was now pressed into her hair and his breath was coming hot and fast against the back of her neck; his hands could not decide where they wanted to settle on Hermione's front but they squeezed every part they held. The wizard got a bit more forceful in his movements, caught up in the fact that he was now able to rub against her without restraint. Drastic thoughts about taking this further- about taking her- bombarded his head while he grunted and continued his salacious movement.

Somewhere along the lines of their dancing, Hermione's body had taken over and ruthlessly ejected her mind from the driver's seat. It were as though it had decided her mind could not be trusted to take care of their physical needs so it would now oversee that aspect. If she was responding this frantically to simple (or not so simple) dancing, then it had clearly been too long since she had had fulfilling contact with a man.

But this wasn't just any man- this was Harry. Harry, her oldest friend and ex-boyfriend. Harry, with whom she was rebuilding their substantial bond. And Harry, the person whom she was dry humping in a private room in a club.

The brunette's mind jumped back into the driver's seat as her eyes flew open. What if what they were doing- the sexual nature of their dancing (if it could still be called that)- affected their stance with each other in an adverse way? What if things became too uncomfortable for them after the sexual desires had run their course? What if it ruined all of the progress they had made within the last five months? These thoughts are what caused Hermione to break through the strengthening haze of lust between them and say something.

"H-Harry. Harry!" she exclaimed, halting her participation in their gyrating. She swiveled around to face him although she remained in his arms.

The dim lighting of the room made it difficult to see the subtleties in others but Hermione was close to the Auror so she noticed it all. His face was flushed, his chest was rising and falling rapidly, and his pupils were so dilated that she experienced a zap of shock as she looked into them.

"What?" Harry replied, sounding like it had come on the tail end of a pant. She closed her eyes for a moment, registering why he had been breathing that copiously in the first place. (The witch had put some distance between them by turning around in his embrace so his erection was not as persistent against her as it had been).

"We… maybe we should sit back down," the Muggleborn offered, peering at him.

"Sit down?"

"Yes. We've been… we've been, dancing, for a while now. Perhaps we can use a break!"

He stared at her while she remained loosely ensnared in his embrace. When Hermione had called his name moments ago, she had unknowingly interrupted his wild train of thought. He had considered taking her outside the room to a lesser walked hallway and pressing her against the wall, lifting up her dress and-

"Let's sit back down." Hermione asserted, squeezing his shoulders and giving what she hoped was a smile that effectively hid how she was currently feeling. She had taken stock of how her body felt while Harry stared at her and she could not deny that she was riled up. She was hot all over, her heart was sprinting like a runner, her dress was tousled in more than one spot, and, most damning of all, she was throbbing in between her legs. The last observation caused her to blush.

"Sit down. All right," he murmured, "But, I think I'll need a minute to… calm down a bit. Dancing really got my heart pumping."

The witch felt her blush deepen at the innuendo and the small smirk he wore widened a stitch. He actually did want to wait and not have to walk to the sofas and allow anyone else to notice his aroused state, but it was an added bonus to stay with Hermione just a little longer and keep her on edge in the meantime.

She stepped out of Harry's embrace and he did not go to pull her back in, but they remained in close proximity to each other, trading looks that brimmed with unspoken words. When he announced his "heart" was beating normally again, Hermione nodded and moved away from him, taking his right hand in her left and leading them back toward the sitting area. She did not really notice or even think of their friends while she maneuvered them to the couches, her cheeks still burning to some degree as she reflected on the sensual nature of what she had just done with the man trailing behind her. Harry was, also, oblivious to anyone else and followed the witch dutifully, his eyes glued to the way her backside swayed in front of him.

Hermione's face still felt aflame when they sat down side by side. She released his hand and used both of hers to (pointlessly) straighten up her hair and smooth out her dress, not making eye contact with him and saying nothing. He remained silent as well, although his gaze stayed on her while he watched her attempt to fix what their dancing had roused.

Their dancing.

The Granger woman wanted to scowl but knew she could not. What would she even be scowling at? Was she upset? Their dancing had left her frazzled and perhaps that is why she felt compelled to scowl, because her mind and body were all over the place and shouting about one hundred different things at her. Conversely, if dancing had left Hermione flustered, it had left Harry focused. He was not paying attention to anything that was not the brunette. She had stopped fidgeting with her attire and hair, and she now sat staring ahead at anything that was not him. Harry joined her in this quiet interlude yet persisted in looking at her and nowhere else; it was as though he was studying her.

Hermione could obviously sense he was staring and she wondered why, in addition to questioning why she could not seem to look at him. She figured something had to be said to break this odd energy that was flowing between them, but, hell! What would even suffice as a conversation starter following that heady display near the windows? Should she reference it? Consequently, Harry saved her from having to be the one to initiate dialogue, which was all well and good because she was at a lost.

"What's wrong, Hermione?" he asked in a low voice. She quickly peered at him, at last, noticing how collected (if not intent) his face appeared.

"What?" she responded, thinking her voice sounded pathetically squeaky by comparison.

"You seem distracted. Is something wrong?"

"Er, no! No. I'm just… regrouping, I suppose! Thinking about how tonight's been."

"Ah," the Auror nodded in the same, cool tone, "Right. Wanted to make sure you weren't bothered by dancing with me." Hermione's gaze became sharp before it melted into something softer yet cautious, and her heart began beating swiftly again.

"N-No. Why… were you?" she posited, hoping she sounded nonchalant.

"Not at all. I was truthfully a bit put out when you said we should sit down; I enjoyed it. I don't know that I wanted to stop, actually." Harry shifted closer to her at the end of his sentence. His move was deliberate yet slow and it made her heart surge faster.

"Oh? Is that so?"

"Yes," he stated, "As your partner, I hope you enjoyed yourself too. It'd only be fair."

"I d-did." Hermione told him, unconsciously putting down her hand on the sofa to brace herself. How funny. She had been committed in not looking at Harry before and now she could not look away, which was not the first time this had happened tonight. She had half a mind to seriously consider the fact that his eyes were merely well disguised green magnets.

"You did?"

"Yes..."

"Truly?" the wizard probed, sliding closer still and pressing into her left leg, her thigh.

"Y-Yes," she commented in tremulous voice. His proximity was making her body get worked up all over again. What was he doing?!

It got worse in the next second. Harry then placed his right hand on the back of her neck, near the top, and moved so he was speaking directly into her ear.

"Then why did you say we should stop?" he posited.

Hermione felt like she was going to swoon. She grabbed the wrist on his arm that was holding her neck and did not catch the corresponding weak noise she made. The facial hair along his jawline rubbed against her cheek.

"We... we!…" the witch replied.

"Was it too much?"

"N-No! I… I just!-"

"Then was it not enough?" Harry inquired, mouth still hovering near her ear. His breath was warm and tickled nicely, making her mental space fuzzy.

"I-I-It!…," She groaned, knowing her mind had gotten stuck because she was flawlessly stumbling over words, "Harry, it-"

"I don't think it was enough for me, Hermione. I wanted more."

"More w-what?"

"Of you," he attested.

The wizard's tongue flicked out and made contact with the top part of her ear. The woman closed her eyes and released a breathless whimper, her center pulsing at the feel of his tongue. When she felt Harry grab her thigh and quickly pull it toward him, thereby pulling her toward him, she knew she had lost all hope.

"Harry…" she commenced, thinking she sounded drugged. And maybe she was- drugged on her friend's closeness, on the promise of carnal pleasure. His hand remained on her thigh and was now squeezing it eagerly.

"Hermione, I want us to both stop pretending," he instructed.

"Pre… pretending?"

"Yes. You stop pretending that you haven't been looking at me tonight in a certain way. I've caught it."

Hermione feebly shook her head at his assertion but her objection to what he had said was questionable; she was greatly enjoying the sensation of his hand on her upper leg and it may have been making her resolve obselete.

"Stop pretending that you didn't feel me when we were dancing just now. That you didn't respond to me before you stopped." Harry remarked.

Heat flooded her face at this statement while she inhaled. It was not a lie. She had felt how hard he had been and she had responded before fully recognizing what was happening. Having him point it out made it inescapable, however, something she had been attempting to do since she originally pulled away from him.

"Do you deny it?"

"N-No," she nearly whispered, eyes still shut.

"Mmmm," he uttered. His tongue ran over her bottom earlobe and she trembled, "Then I'll stop pretending that I haven't wanted to be near you all night, or that I haven't acted accordingly."

His sudden appearance downstairs and rough handling of Sam flashed in her mind, along with the knowledge that she had not usually gone more than 15 minutes while upstairs without Harry being by her side.

He then placed a tiny kiss right behind her ear. The level of dizziness spiked and made breathing even more arduous for Hermione, which was saying something as she had not been able to breathe normally since they went to dance the very first time. Harry was rapidly and efficiently making her fall apart and she felt like she were watching the tempestuous ordeal from outside herself.

The brunette opened her mouth to verbalize something but he was speaking once more.

"I'll also stop pretending that I don't want to do anything but lay you back and shag you, right here, right now, in front of everybody."

Hermione lost the battle for composure. Her entire body reacted at his admission and she emitted an indecent moan that was also part gasp, while her face screwed up at the image of Harry's desire.

What he had just said…. What he had just said!

She could not think straight. And she was sure that she actually did swoon this time, feeling herself lean into him as she licked her (seemingly) perpetually dry lips. Hermione felt him grip her tighter in response, his breathing becoming more ladened. She was back in the oven and the heat had been turned to the highest setting. How the hell was she even supposed to reply to that?

"Harry, you, you..." she began shakily.

"I what? Don't tell me I don't mean it, Hermione," the Auror asserted, "Because I do. I would do it in a heartbeat if I knew you wouldn't object."

Once again, the visual of Harry having sex with her on this couch with everyone present played in her brain. But he had lifted her chin and pulled it toward his face, causing her to look at him while the image flashed across her mental space. Harry saw that she looked desperate and rattled and decidedly red in the face, which was a direct reflection of how he himself felt. He wanted Hermione in a searing way and there was no hiding it now.

"That dress makes it very hard to think about anything other than taking it off your body," he noted in a raw voice.

Harry had planned on throwing any remaining stitch of caution to the wind and chosen to simply kiss her, as he had lost his own battle of control, but the witch acted before he could. Hermione took a deep breath in before her hands quickly moved to cradle the nape of his neck and she launched herself forward, connecting their lips for the first time in a year.

It was the breaking of the dam that he needed.

Harry wasted no time in showing reciprocity. Releasing a groan that conveyed appreciation and stark desire, his hand on her neck became firmer and the other pulled her so much into him that her right leg now rested over his left thigh, her dress riding up a bit. The oven Hermione had been in had now exploded from the heat. His blatant expression of lust- of craving her- had given her reason to no longer bother denying hers. And she would not, because it seemed he wanted her just as much she wanted him. After dancing around one another all night, literally and figuratively, this was actually happening.

Their tongues came into contact with one another in an astonishingly short amount of time. Hermione moaned when she felt his roll over hers and into her mouth, and her hands left his neck in order for her arms to wrap around it instead. Harry wanted to pull her even closer but that was a difficult feat as she was, now, practically in his lap. He let their tongues push sensually against each other a little longer before he changed direction, suckling and biting her bottom lip. His body jolted with the memory that he used to love doing this to her and that it evoked a pleased response from her.

Harry felt vindication when she whimpered. Vindication and the beginning stages of the reawakening of a certain part of his anatomy. He did it once more and this time she pushed her chest into his, one hand sliding up into his hair and clutching it. Hermione pulled at his messy locks and he gave a low growl; he attached his mouth to hers again and his tongue propelled itself back into her mouth in a rapacious manner.

Their kisses were disorderly and impassioned but neither person cared. The heat that had been simmering within and between them all night had finally reached its peak and spilled over into their kissing, and it appeared to be too much to contain. Harry's left hand had slipped under her dress and, when his fingers brushed against the fabric of her panties, he felt his dick twitch. He moaned as Hermione angled her head in a different direction and he followed. He was also hyper aware of her breasts pressed stubbornly against him. Harry wanted to kiss the tops of her breasts. He wanted to see her breasts. He wanted to see her naked.

He had to do something about it.

Panting again, he detached his lips from hers and moved back a bit, peering into her eyes. They were huge and somewhat unfocused yet filled with yearning, and he knew his had to look similarly.

"Come home with me," the wizard prompted in a haggard voice. Hermione only stared at him briefly before nodding earnestly.

"Now." Harry added urgently. Her gaze remained on him and she flushed again for what had to be the 100th time that night. She found herself robbed of air while she nodded a second time, buzzing at the proposition that was to become a reality in hardly anytime at all.

He felt as though all the air had been let out of him, and he made a corresponding sound before placing a hurried kiss on her lips and letting her detangle from his embrace so he could spring to his feet. They had to get out of here. A part of him had requested they leave now before he was completely aroused and unable to hide it from others' eyes, but it was mostly because Harry felt he needed her. And like he had alluded earlier- he knew the brunette would not permit him to fulfill this need on the sofa.

Once she was back on her feet, Hermione allowed herself to look around and finally take in the room and its occupants in what seemed like 10 years. She had a reprieve from all things Harry and what she saw made a distant part of her want to blush and hide behind something. More than half of the wizards and witches present were gawking at them, and half of that group rushed to look away and feign preoccupation when they noticed the pair had separated. With Harry's lips and much of the mental fog on pause, Hermione realized that, of course, the others would have noticed their lawless display of physical affection.

He made to grab her hand and plow determinedly toward the exit but she touched his upper arm, stopping him.

"We need to say goodbye. To everyone," she alerted.

He looked at her for a tick, appearing impatient, but quickly nodded and the two went in different directions once they got past the couches. Hermione made her way to Angelina, Alicia, and the Hufflepuffs first, bidding them hasty goodbyes with a hug or two before she got to Ginny and Luna.

"I'm leaving," the Muggleborn declared, sharing a tight hug with Luna.

"But you came with me." Ginny observed. She struggled to keep her face and tone neutral but it was terribly difficult. She had seen Hermione's and Harry's infectious make out session and had wanted to shriek from giddy satisfaction.

"I'm, er… Harry's going to escort me home!"

"Ah!" Luna said, smiling in her pensive way.

"And make sure you get to bed all right, I'm sure!" the red head remarked, failing to keep the large, complacent grin off her face. The older witch gave her a look before bequeathing her a fast hug. Their blonde friend giggled.

"Ginny-" Hermione started. But she was cut off.

"You will tell me everything tomorrow, Granger!"

Hermione peered at Ginny, wanting to show some defiance but knowing she had no foot to stand on; instead, she gave a single, curt nod before leaving, Ginny's tickled laughter floating in her ears.

Harry was faster in his goodbyes and got to every male present. Consequently, when he turned to Ron, their female best friend joined his side shortly thereafter.

"Leaving, I see? Together?" prompted Ron.

"He's seeing me home." Hermione attested, going to hug the tall red head.

"Whose home?" the red head mouthed at Harry over the witch's shoulder. The Auror shot him a pointed look and Ron merely grinned, his eyes bright and alive. Seeing the look on Ron's face caused Harry's fake, firm demeanor to waver and a smirk tugged at the corner of his lips.

"We'll see you and Luna later, then," he informed. Harry moved forward to give the other wizard a one armed hug, which Ron returned, but the latter did not let Harry go until he had mumbled something in his ear. Hermione watched them and narrowed her eyes when she saw the dark haired man's smirk grow before he shook his head.

"Make sure she gets home safely, mate!" Ron advised as Harry grabbed the witch's hand and strode toward the exit.

Hermione could hear the enthusiastic chatter amongst their friends and surmised that much (if not most) of it was in reference to the two of them. She also saw Parvati and Padma standing near the bar, watching her and Harry leave the room. Parvati's arms were crossed and she appeared smug. The brunette felt contrite and looked away sheepishly, thinking that she should likely apologize to the other woman for her earlier behavior in the very near future.

"Oy, Granger! I never got my dance!" Lee exclaimed with outstretched arms.

"Raincheck!" she called back.

"I'd better wake up tomorrow to the news that I'm going to be an uncle in nine months!" Ron shouted with an arm around his wife, while his two best friends crossed the room's threshold. Warmth flooded the Muggleborn's face as she heard laughs, cat calls, and whoops of mirth come from the others at his words. She could only imagine the subsequent types of discussions that would be had about her and Harry in their absence, but there was a more pressing matter to which to attend: going home with him and continuing what their dancing had started.

They Apparated back to Harry's apartment but ended up in different locations. He landed in his kitchen while Hermione popped right outside of his front door.

Wards, she thought. There had once been a time when Hermione had not only been directly keyed into the wards but had lived in this very apartment, and standing outside facing the door made it seem like that had been decades ago. Harry sprinted to the door in order to let her in and distantly thought that maybe they should have used Side Along. But perhaps it was for the best that they had not, as his focus may have been greatly impaired by having Hermione right next to him. He would have probably failed to keep his hands off her and ended up Slinching one or both of them.

His broom was laid right in front of the door and he snatched it up before tossing it out of the way. He then gripped the door handle and yanked it inward, only to stare at her for a rapid moment before reaching for her upper arm and pulling her inside. The door slammed behind Hermione as she threw her arms around Harry's neck and commenced kissing him again, making a noise that conveyed contentment at being reunited in this way. He held her tightly and returned the kisses with zest, staggering back some from the florid manner of their movements. He bumped into his broom, which had actually hovered when he had hastily thrown it, and lifted one hand to wave erratically in the broom's general direction. It fell to the floor with a dull thud while he began to walk them backwards, still connected to her by the mouth.

Hermione was in wonder that her heart had not tapped out by now and ceased pumping from non-stop stimulation. It had been escalated for what seemed like the past two hours and, now that she was actually alone with Harry, in the privacy of his home, it actually seemed to increase in its speed. He guided them to the kitchen although he had stumbled more than once on the way, and now they stood in the middle of it still exchanging zealous kisses. Hermione was unsure why he had led them to the kitchen and not his bedroom, but this was forgotten in the next moment when she felt Harry's hands zoom down and grab her ass.

She emitted a surprised but delighted squeak when he squeezed and then smacked it; the sound transformed into a breathy laugh when he moaned into her mouth. Subsequently, she had a moan to mirror his when he then commenced rutting against her. With him keeping her in place like this, the witch could feel all of Harry, and it quickly made her fully aware of her own arousal- of how much need there seemed to be between her legs.

Hermione pushed back against him, striving to find some relief through the pleasurable friction. Consequently, she was turned around suddenly and the next thing she knew the small of her back was pressing into one of the kitchen's counters. Harry then grabbed her securely by the waist and hoisted her up on the surface before swiftly stepping in between her legs. Exhilaration bubbled all throughout her body and she smiled as she placed a kiss on his forehead; he used one hand to move the dress off her shoulder and kissed the newly exposed skin.

"I want to get you out of this dress and see you naked, but I don't think I can wait that long!," Harry revealed, his voice still that raspy tenor, "Hermione, I-I want to be inside of you! Very badly."

She was not expecting for those words to have such an effect on her but they did. They were just as rousing as any of his physical touches had been and she rushed to show him that she was in total agreement.

"Yes. Yes!" the brunette attested, trading another kiss while her hands went to his pants and seized upon his fly to undo it.

Harry felt like he could have flown without a broom due to her eager consent. There was an accompanying dose of adrenaline and surge of blood that he knew traveled to his groin, making him even harder. Both of his hands shot down to the bottom of her dress and shoved it up until it gathered around her waist, revealing a nice pair of skimpy, black panties that he stared at for a second. Hermione had just finished unbuttoning and unzipping his pants when she noticed he was gazing at the provocative fabric that was covering her.

"Take them off!" she ordered, stroking him through his boxers now that she had much better access.

Harry was unsure if she was referring to her underwear or his pants but it did not matter; he took a sharp inhale of breath before releasing a lurid groan when he felt her touch. Jesus- it felt magnificent. He shook his head hurriedly, to both get a grip and not fall to pieces from her ministrations, and to indicate that he would not follow her order. He was kissing her hungrily once more, his left hand holding her face while his right was moving down below. Hermione felt his hand brush into hers as he extracted his member from his boxers, and an inflamed puff of breath passed over her lips, in disbelief at how galvanized she felt.

She went to remove her undergarments since they were still a barrier but Harry batted her hand away. Instead, as fast as lightning, he shoved her panties to the side and, in the following instant, Hermione felt him enter her.

The speed of his action had caught her off guard but it did not detract from how glorious it felt. Clutching his shoulders, she simultaneously gasped and moaned at the sensation of being full and the two sounds melded together as he started moving inside her.

Harry felt momentarily speechless upon sheathing himself inside of Hermione. It was a culmination of many things: physical satisfaction, reunification, disbelief, and the end of a months long sexual drought. With his first thrust, he realized it had been entirely too long. The last time he had had sex was at the beginning of June and it had not exactly been intentional.

He, Ron, Dean, and Seamus had gone out to Muggle Dublin one summer night, three of them intent on getting their pureblooded friend more exposure to Muggles. Harry had insisted they go to Ireland instead of gallivanting in Muggle London as the chances of being found by the English wizarding press were less pronounced. At some point during the night (at a lively pub), he had struck up lasting conversation with a good looking woman with dark hair. Accordingly, not quite two hours later and with only a first name and occupation to go by, he had separated from his friends at her suggestion and the two wound up having sex in the women's single occupant bathroom.

Granted, this illicit act of theirs caused them and the people with whom they had come to get kicked out of the establishment once they had been found out by a worker, but Harry, his friends laughing at his side once they were out on the pavement again, had thought it had been worth it. But that had been about four months ago and he was painfully aware of it now. His body berated him for depriving them for that long. Harry knew Ginny was right and that a large number of witches (and some wizards, for that matter) found him appealing for a variety of reasons. He knew that these people would be more than willing to go to bed with Harry Potter but that did not mean he would ever act on it. And even if he was to indulge on occasion, he could perfectly envision the media catching wind of it and having a field day, as it did whenever he did anything other than showing up to work and going directly home.

And this would even happen in the best case scenario, which was his partner keeping quiet and going about her life as though it was not a big deal. Worse case scenario was that the woman would run to the press the minute she had slept with him, offering the most outrageous story of what happened to whatever source would give her the biggest payoff. And to top it all off, a couple months later she would assert that Harry was the father of her unborn child but was rejecting his place in the child's life, and it just broke her heart because she simply wanted her child to know its father.

So, if foregoing regular sex meant avoiding the headache that came with possible yet hounding media involvement, he was willing to merely go without sex…. But being inside Hermione again as she sat perched on the counter made him question what the hell possessed him to think he could go without this. Or maybe it was more accurate to question what made him think he could go without doing this with her… because being connected with her again like this was consuming.

"I've missed you. I've missed you!," Harry relayed sincerely, "I've- oh, Merlin!"

He then stilled, although he had only been moving for a bit. He had to gather himself for a moment; encountering heat and moisture from all angles was currently overwhelming, in the best way possible. This is how he would lose his mind.

"God, I've missed you both!" he said haggardly into her ear, moving again and moving with vigor.

Hermione felt as though she could have purred, loving his quickened pace and knowing the other entity to which he referred when he said "both." She quite agreed with his statement and softly bit the shell of his ear to show him as much, revelling in the fact that this was really happening.

Harry did not last long. There was no way he could have. He had been too excited for too long that night and she felt too fucking good. Hermione resorted to crying out when his rocking became much more forceful and her sounds did nothing to help his endurance. They weakened it, in fact, and he found himself climaxing before he expected or wanted it.

"Shit!," he exclaimed, right before falling over the precipice, "H-Hermione!"

He couldn't stop his orgasm so he closed his eyes and bit his lip as he experienced pure bliss for that brief stint of time, vaguely disappointed it was already over but much more absorbed in the shock of pleasure he was receiving. Hermione, conversely, was more aware of the disappointment. It had been amazing to feel Harry's pumping and so promising- promising for what was in store for her- but it had given way to his end too soon. She watched him with an imploring look on her face and it remained there until he had finished and was peering at her.

He repeatedly shook his head, breathing deeply, and then leaned forward slowly.

"Harry," she said, the beseeching nature translating into her tone of voice.

"I know," he claimed. His forehead was pressed against hers.

"I… I didn't want to stop dancing!"

Harry chuckled appreciatively at her analogy and then remarked:

"You were too good of a dancer, love! Give me a couple minutes to recover; that's all I need."

"Okay," the Muggleborn agreed, placated.

"There's no way in hell that I'm done with you." His lips lingered near hers and he gave her a searing kiss before moving his mouth to her neck. Hermione emitted a pleased hum as he started to suck, her hand groping his hair once more.

Harry was right in his declaration that he was not done with her. After the kitchen, they made a gradual progression to his bedroom but would get physically distracted by one another and simply have sex wherever they were at the time. These locations included the living room floor, against a wall in the hallway, in the shower, and, finally, his bed. Each sequence also found them with less and less clothing, and Hermione was more than fulfilled by the time they had finally fallen asleep, nude and exhausted yet satisfied and cuddled together under the bedding.

Hermione awoke before Harry. The sun's rays were streaming in through his window fairly confidently for it to be an autumn day, and it was partially the reason why she had roused from sleep. The woman stretched out like a cat while a yawn passed over her lips. She wondered what time it was before deciding that she did not care, and she turned to gaze at the sleeping form next to her. She studied him for a while before doing anything else, focusing on his face. Hermione enjoyed the simplicity and intimacy of watching him, gently stroking the side of his face and encountering the hair along his jawline. Harry kept it well groomed. She remembered when he had first stopped actively getting rid of his facial hair years ago and how it had been symbolic of his transition from an adolescent to a man. It had actually been around the time they had started dating- when he was 22.

Hermione let her mind wander back to the first part of their romantic relationship together, which seemed so long ago now even though it was only four years prior. She recalled many of their firsts and, inadvertently, she thought of the first time they had made love. It had happened only one week after they were an official couple and one full month after they had begun dating overall.

The pair had been at Grimmauld Place in the downstairs sitting room, lying together near the empty hearth and talking. Although the cold weather of the season would have warranted a fire, it was during the day and they had chosen to enact warming charms instead. Fueled by the knowledge that they were a couple now, they spoke excitedly with each other until someone moved to initiate a kiss. This kiss silenced conversation but ushered in physical affection, and the two became absorbed in that. Unlike when they had merely been dating, they did not monitor their kisses or touches to ensure they did not escalate, and, without this self imposed supervision, things did escalate.

Neither thought their first time together would have happened this way and without such forethought, but it did not matter in the slightest as Harry entered Hermione for the very first time and they set a rhythm together. Flames erupted in the fireplace at some point but the two did not notice the fire until they had finished, sweating and clinging to one another. It was then that the couple saw the flames and felt notable surprise before they laughed at what their magic had done unawares. (Harry, personally, had taken it as a positive sign of good things to come).

Present day Hermione moved to sit up and immediately winced. She was sore, but with all of the activity she and Harry had done she should have expected as much. Hermione shifted more to her left and caught sight of the tattoo on Harry's left shoulder blade: a Snitch.

A smile bloomed on her lips.

He had gotten the magical tattoo two years ago at a shop in Diagon Alley. It was stationary until one touched it, upon which it would flutter to life and zoom over Harry's upper body until it was "caught." She had had a lot of fun playing Seeker during the last year of their relationship, and the same feeling of fondness washed over her as she stared at it. Deciding there was nothing wrong with paying homage to the past, Hermione reached out and touched his tattoo. The Snitch's wings vibrated rapidly before the entire ball came to life and immediately flew to a different area of his back. Her grin grew and the witch began the hunt.

Hermione's chasing of the Snitch eventually woke up the man beside her. There was only so much space on Harry's back the ball could utilize to escape being caught but it did a good job of it; she repeatedly missed it and the frequent touching of different parts of his skin caused Harry to be lulled out of sleep. The first thing that came to his ears was a low, feminine giggle and it took him a moment to place to whom it could have belonged.

The events of the club played in Harry's head at an expeditious pace and a grin began to form on his countenance. Hermione.

She, meanwhile, had noticed he was rousing and she stopped pursuing the Snitch. The brunette's smile remained in place as she watched him rub his eyes and rest himself on his forearms.

"Hello." Harry greeted, gazing at her with a sleepy grin.

"Hello," came the warm reply.

"Having a round of morning Quidditch?"

"I was tempted."

The wizard continued to grin as he looked her over, the sheet wrapped loosely around her torso. Her hair was everywhere but she seemed to be glowing.

"I always did like when you used to do that," he revealed, sitting up now and stretching his arms, "How do you feel?"

"Hmmm. Considering the circumstances… pretty content." Hermione responded, eyes flickering to his chest. The Snitch was happily dashing across the new expanse of exposed skin.

"Circumstances?"

"Yes. Lots of alcohol- too much, most likely- and then a very thorough work out for my body."

Her head actually was swimming a bit, a reminder of the liquor she had consumed at the club. It was not bad enough to make her feel sick but it was apparent enough to remind her she had overdone it.

"Oh. Those circumstances," Harry stated, sounding amused, "Well, one of them was my fault so you have my apologies… even though I'm not all that sorry."

"Scoundrel," she remarked. He smirked and moved forward, taking her face in his hand and kissing her languidly. Hermione felt a small blush heat her cheeks but she returned his affection wholeheartedly.

Being in Harry's presence seemed different now that the sun was up and they were no longer in the heat of the moment, or influenced by the atmosphere of the club. It was just them, in his bed, and it made her feel somewhat shy. What did he think of everything, of all the things they had said and done in the previous 12 hours? Would they continue on as though nothing had happened once she left his apartment? The same questions that had formed while dancing with him were back and would have to be answered.

"Harry," she tentatively commenced when he had pulled away, "We… we should probably talk about what this means for us. What we did. We should discuss how it's going to affect our... friendship, moving forward. It doesn't have to be right now or even today, but, I think we have to."

He looked at her before his attention was drawn to the Snitch flying about on his chest. He watched it reflectively for a moment or two before quickly reaching out and tapping it. It stilled and then, defeatedly, flew back to its home on his shoulder blade.

"Yes, you're right," the Auror exhaled, musing his already untamable hair.

"We've been back on good terms for months now but this is a huge leap. It could take us in a completely different direction if we let it go unchecked."

"Yeah. I definitely don't think either of us expected the night would end up that way." With you naked back in my bed, he mentally added. She nodded.

"Do you… think it was a mistake?" Hermione questioned, sounding nervous. She was unsure how the situation should be categorized but she knew she had not regretted it, and she did not want him to either.

"No." Harry asserted without hesitation.

The witch nodded again, gazing at her lap and feeling relief. It was quiet for an interval of time before the witch gasped audibly and her eyes widened. She looked at him rapidly and fear was evident on her face.

"Oh my God. Oh my God!" she uttered.

"What? What is it?" he replied, feeling alarm race through him.

"Damn it! Oh no. Oh no! Oh no, oh no, oh no!"

"Hermione!"

"I!- Harry, w-we didn't put any protection in place!" Hermione revealed. Harry felt alleviation settle within him for some reason… it was nothing menacing, at least. He considered what she had said before speaking.

"No charms," he acknowledged. Indeed, they had not used contraception spells at any point during the five separate times they had had sex.

"No!"

"Aren't you taking a potion?"

"Well, normally, y-yes," she relayed, her face reddening somewhat, "But I haven't for the past three weeks because, well… I haven't really seen the need."

"Oh," was all Harry said, realizing what this meant- what this could mean.

"Ergh, how could I be so stupid?!"

"Hermione, you're not stupid."

"I overlooked protection, which should be the first thing you think about when it comes to sex! We both did!" Hermione avidly insisted.

"We, we were a little too caught up! We weren't thinking clearly but it's okay; it's not the end of the world!" he remarked.

"I haven't had prevention for three weeks now and we just shagged ourselves senseless, Harry. No, it's not the end of the world but this is still a real problem!"

"Yes, but don't get too worked up. You don't want to stress yourself for nothing!"

"For nothing? Harry, the 'something' is pregnancy!" she declared a bit shrilly.

"You don't even know that it'll actually happen!" Harry insisted, laughing once.

"Probability may have something to say about that."

"Well, if that's the case, then we should start discussing baby names."

"Harry," Hermione stated flatly, gazing at him sharply, "Why aren't you taking this more seriously?"

"I just don't want you fretting and worrying like this, is all!," he chuckled, "Okay, no- we didn't have any protection. But that doesn't mean you will automatically get pregnant! And even if you do… then Ron's wish to be an uncle will be granted and he'll be ecstatic!"

The brunette stared at him incredulously. He was still being blase about the manner and even finding humor in it. Did he not understand the severity of this?

"This is not a joke! You do not seem to care that this is an actual possibility! It's not far fetched or paranoia or anything like that! This can happen; it happens all the time!," she heatedly lectured, "And you're sitting there laughing and telling me to not worry about it as though it's impossible! There is a very real chance that I could get pregnant, Harry!"

"So? So what if you did? Would it be the end of the world?" he challenged, peering back at her boldly with a tiny scowl.

Hermione appeared floored. She stared at him with her mouth gaping. Harry gazed back until he replayed the words he had said that had flown from his mouth with conscious thought; he then broke eye contact and flushed a rich shade of red. Another instance of his mouth acting before his brain could catch up.

It was silent as he stared at his bedding and glowered at himself while she peered steadily at him.

"What are you trying to say, Harry?" Hermione posited carefully. He sighed loudly but did not respond immediately. The wizard let his scowl melt away before he spoke.

"Obviously, you getting pregnant after an unplanned shag-a-thon following a night out is not ideal," Harry commenced in a subdued tone, "It's not exactly the condition under which I would want to… to impregnate you, and it's not how I envisioned it. If it ever did happen."

She had not ceased in staring at him but now her eyes had grown very wide.

"I was thinking of proposing to you months before we broke up. I even went to look at rings," he muttered, "But then things became rocky between us and there was tension that hadn't been there before, and then... then we were broken up and you couldn't stand the sight of me."

He finally looked up to meet her gaze.

"I don't blame you, Hermione. I know I was the main cause for the end of our relationship. How I acted those last couple months… it was mostly my fault. I led us to splitting apart and I'm surprised you stayed as long as you did," Harry continued, "I regret how things ended and I think I always will. You didn't deserve that. I would have strangled someone else for treating you that way and yet I did it myself. I was really afraid after we broke up that you'd never speak to me again, that I actually had lost you."

She had heard some variant of this confession since the time they had mended things but he had never seemed so vulnerable before. Personal, yes, and sincere- of course- but not vulnerable. Hermione nodded at last, feeling a couple tears spring to her eyes.

"I was devastated when I found my things by the door. I cried the entire time l packed everything else up and for a few good hours after that when I got to my parents house," she relayed.

His entire body slumped in shame and she shook her head.

"No, Harry," Hermione negated, "Don't take sole responsibility. You weren't the only person in our relationship- I was as well and some of the fault is mine. We both hurt each other toward the end and, that day, we both said horrible things to each other. Even with that being the case, I was shocked when I got back here and saw my belongings all gathered together. I knew what it meant."

"I did it impulsively. I regretted it after 30 minutes of being at Ron's," he mentioned.

"You do most things impulsively."

They both smiled before a natural pause in the conversation manifested.

"I suppose even through all of the ugliness of that day, a part of me didn't expect us to break up," she attested.

"I didn't either. I just wish it hadn't happened like that… and I'm sorry." Harry added.

There was a longer pause where neither said anything and Harry was the one to interrupt it.

"I said I'd always want to protect you but it's the same for love. No matter what may happen, I'll always love you," he revealed.

"I know you will." Hermione claimed, smiling.

"Yes, but more than that. I… I don't think I ever stopped being in love with you. Through things ending between us, through the rough six months after that, through the last five months where we reconnected… through everything that happened in the past year."

It was silent but Harry had lost his nerve to look her in the face. He had just disclosed something very significant to Hermione, something he had not verbalized to anyone, and he could not take it back. Consequently, he had more to share.

"And so maybe that's why I acted that way when you pointed out that you could get pregnant. An old version of me- when it had seemed possible- had been able to see a future with you that included marriage and kids. I do want them, and maybe that fact coupled with my unresolved feelings for you… maybe that's why I said what I did. Maybe old Harry resurfaced for that moment," the Auror explained. There was silence once more but he did not break it this time.

"You're still in love with me?" Hermione gently questioned. Harry shrugged and then glanced at her apprehensively, scared he might see rejection on her expression. But he could not see consternation on her countenance or outrage, and she actually looked amazed. It was massive reassurance.

"I know we're not in a position where we're anywhere close to be thinking about marriage or anything, let alone talking about it," he noted, "We're not even dating. And after last night, I don't even know where we stand! I think shagging each other multiple times effectively removed us from the 'just friends' category."

"Yes," she confirmed, giggling once as her cheeks tinged pink. She was still trying to wrap her mind around the fact that her best friend had admitted that he was still in love with her.

"So, now, we're in this really weird place and I don't know how to move forward, especially after everything I've just told you. It'll be pretty difficult to act like none of this happened."

"Unresolved feelings," the witch uttered simply, using her fingers to run over Harry's knuckles. He watched her movements until he flipped his hand over and took her hand in his, grasping it.

"Hermione, how do we move forward?" he asked, peering at her.

"How do you want to move forward?"

"I don't know. All I know is that I want to."

"Move forward as we were doing or move forward toward something more? Something we used to have?" Hermione prompted.

"Something we used to have." Harry murmured, staring at their intertwined hands. An elongated bout of silence followed this, during which he became concerned that she did not want the same thing, did not want to take the same path.

"So we'll do it one step at a time. And slowly. And together," she softly remarked. The wizard peered up at her to see that she was smiling. His heart sung.

"Okay," he nodded, eyes appearing emotional as he grinned hopefully. Hermione moved forward and pressed her lips against his, and Harry put his free hand against her neck as he returned it with gratitude.

"I guess we ended up having that talk after all," she stated.

"I reckon it'll be the first of many?"

"Quite. We have a lot to work out."

"Do you think some of the others can also take place in my bed?" Harry wondered, his smirk creeping onto his face.

"I said slowly, Harry. Slowly," the woman replied, feeling mild exasperation but also amusement. She found it hard to be truly vexed right now with the amount of quiet elation that was coursing through her.

"Oh, I can definitely go slowly," he attested, his smirk becoming larger, "Here, let me show you."

Harry grabbed Hermione around her waist and pulled her on top of him, falling back and grinning as he brought their mouths together once more. She gave a yelp of surprise, reproach, and mirth, and she found herself grinning as she offered no resistance and reciprocated his kisses.

A/N: It took me longer to finish this chapter than I was anticipating but it is finally done! So, I have some news that I wanted to share about this story: it is actually (going to be) the first installment of a 3 part series. The other two installments are mapped out in my head and I'm excited to get them going, but I plan on writing and publishing a different H/Hr fic (i.e., a one-shot set at Hogwarts) before I get to the second part of this series. If you want to see what comes of Harry and Hermione following this story, keep me on your radar!