Kissing Lessons for the Beginner

Lesson Two - Le Baiser Français

Their first official lesson took place two days after Hermione offered to teach him, which was unfortunately the only night that week when she didn't have prefect duties. They met in the Room of Requirement at midnight, knowing what the rumors would be if they were caught together doing what they were going to do.

Hermione was already there when Harry, sweaty palmed and terrified, arrived. She'd turned the room into a sort of bedroom, to Harry's astonishment and horror, and he couldn't do anything but gape at her as she sat on the bed, looking like she was trying not to laugh at him.

"H-Hermione? Why do we need a - a - a bed?"

She raised an amused, know-it-all little eyebrow at him. "Because," she said in her typical isn't-it-obvious tone, "you'll need to know how to kiss sitting, standing, and lying down. I mean, you can't just learn to give a girl a simple kiss and leave it there. Not if you ever plan to really snog."

Harry stared at her, red as a tomato. When she'd offered to help him practice kissing, he'd no idea she'd planned to teach him to make out with a girl! The awful truth of the situation began to sink in for Harry - this was going to be embarrassing beyond belief.

Hermione smiled in a deceptively gentle, coaxing sort of way and patted the spot on the bed next to her. "Come here, Harry. There's nothing to be afraid of - it's just me."

Harry thought she was off her rocker. Nothing to be afraid of? This was the most terrifying thing she could possibly put him through.

"Harry, honestly, get over here. It's only a bed. Beds are used for sleeping. Get your mind out of the gutter."

Harry blushed even more, which he hadn't believed possible, and hesitantly sat down beside her. She patted his knee - making him jump - and rolled her eyes.

"You're going to have to be more relaxed if this is going to work," she said as she ceased her patting and squeezed his knee instead. Harry let out a small, mouse-like squeak. "Now, I'm going to - don't jump - I'm going to put my arms around you. All right?"

Oh, yes, the feel of her hands on his back was definitely all right. "Okay."

"Now put one hand around my waist - yes, just like that - and put the other on my neck. ...A little higher.... Perfect."

"Do I - um - kiss you now?" Harry asked.

"Yes," she replied patiently. "Go ahead."

Harry leaned forward, his eagerness warring with his hesitancy. There was supposed to be something very wrong with kissing one's best friend of the opposite sex, Harry knew, but her lips were full and soft and pink, and he wanted very much to feel them again. And this was her idea, after all.

Hermione sighed softly as Harry kissed her, the little puff of air making Harry's lips tingle, and he wondered why she would do that. Was it a sigh of exasperation? Disappointment? Contentment? ...Happiness?

Harry tightened his arms around her and kissed her harder. Why, oh why, did girls have to be so incredibly confusing? It was bloody annoying!

Just as Harry was beginning to forgive Hermione for being a girl - kissing her wouldn't be nearly as enjoyable otherwise - he felt something wet press against his lips and jerked back in surprise.

"What was that?" he asked, almost hysterically.

Hermione rolled her eyes. "It was just my tongue, Harry."

"Oh." Hermione tried to put her tongue in my mouth. Oh, Merlin.

"Try again," Hermione instructed, "and this time don't pull away when you feel my tongue. Just open your mouth a bit."

Harry nodded and did as he was told, rather eagerly anticipating what was to come, although he'd never admit it to her. Her warm lips pressed back against his for a fleeting moment before her tongue prodded at his lips and he opened his mouth as she'd instructed. Harry's hormones did a gleeful little jig as she pressed her body closer and her tongue slid against his - and then he realized he had no bloody clue what to do next.

"Uh - huh - Hermione?" Harry said when he finally managed to extricate himself from her.

"What's the matter, Harry?" she asked a little impatiently. "You were doing just fine."

"But what do I do once we've gotten past the tongue bit?" Harry asked desperately.

Hermione shook her head in an exasperated fashion. "Oh, Harry. You can't plot every single stage of a kiss. It's not a step-by-step sort of thing! You have to...to improvise, do what feels right at the time. And once your tongue is in a girl's mouth, you don't just let it lie there - you...explore."

With a sigh Harry flopped back against the bed. "This is too complicated."

Hermione patted his arm reassuringly. "It's really not, Harry. You'll get the hang of things, with enough practice. Just stop worrying about doing it right and do what feels right," she said, smiling gently at him in a way that made his heart flip. And then it really hit him.

He'd been kissing Hermione. He'd been kissing Hermione, and it hadn't felt quite like it was supposed to - it hadn't felt weird at all! Rather, it felt completely, unbelievably normal. No...perfect.

She wanted him to do what felt right, eh? Well, that would entail kissing Hermione. Again. And again.

"Why don't we call it a night? I'm free Saturday evening. We can meet then," suggested Hermione. Harry, a little disappointed that it was ending so soon, was forced to agree.

"All right. Saturday."

Hermione kissed him on the cheek (lingering a bit longer than she ought to have as a friend, Harry thought somewhat hopefully) and left him alone in the room.

Harry sighed, his mind a blurry, contented, confused, and oddly happy mess.

To be continued