Kissing Lessons for the Beginner

Lesson Six - Repercussions

Harry was on pins and needles waiting for Thursday's lesson. It was very difficult, trying to avoid conversations that would cause conflict with Ron and pretending to be perfectly normal around Hermione when he wasn't - and to make matters worse, Ron would shoot him a pointed glance every time Hermione would enter a room, and not very subtly. In fact, he was so far from subtle that Harry worried he was attempting to sabotage his relationship with Hermione - whatever their relationship was at the moment.

But finally, after two long days of awkwardness, it was 7:56 P.M. on Thursday, and he was heading out the portrait hole...

...Until Ron snuck up behind him.

"Where're you going?"

Harry turned around slowly, feeling his face grow hot.

"I'm...er...meeting Hermione."

Ron's eyebrows shot up. "Oh." There was a long silence in which Ron stared and Harry fidgeted. "You going to tell her, then?"

"Um...maybe."

Ron continued to stare; likewise, Harry continued to fidget.

"You're going to be late if you don't move soon. Hermione hates that, you know."

"Right," Harry said, nodding mechanically. "Um, see you later."

Harry wasn't sure what had just happened - if Ron had just given his blessing, or if he was still plotting to knock him off his Firebolt in the next Quidditch match - but whatever it had been, it had been very, very awkward, and he was happy to run like hell away from there, toward the Room of Requirement.

When Harry walked in, Hermione, for the first time, wasn't waiting on the bed. Rather, she was sitting on the couch in front of the fire, reading a paperback book - one of her romance novels?

She was so engrossed in her reading that she didn't notice him coming in.

"Getting tips?" he asked.

Hermione looked up at him smiling, and he couldn't help grinning back. He was beginning to feel hopeful again - surely she couldn't smile at him like that and send his heart into an all-out Irish jig without feeling something herself...

"I was just passing some time. Come and sit down."

Harry wondered what she had planned this time. He didn't know just what else she could teach him without them crossing some boundaries that probably shouldn't be crossed, not when at least one of them was pretending there was nothing more than friendship between them.

"I was thinking," she said, "that maybe we should do a bit of a practice run."

"Okay," Harry said.

She smiled. "Wonderful. We'll do a bit of roleplay, then. You're you, obviously, and I'm your girlfriend, and I'm sitting here reading. Initiate it."

Harry raised his eyebrows as she turned back to her book. "What do you mean, initiate it?"

She turned back to him, chuckling. "Oh, Harry. It's not going to be like in lessons - somebody has to get things started. So...pretend that I'm your girlfriend and this is just an ordinary evening - I'm sitting here reading and you fancy a snog. It's very simple."

Harry nodded slowly, watching her profile as she again looked to her book. Just what did she expect him to do?

"Just try the first thing that pops into your mind," Hermione said with her usual intuitiveness as she turned a page.

"Er...fancy a snog?"

Hermione snorted and rolled her eyes. "Oh, Harry, not like that."

"Why not?" he asked defensively.

"Because, Harry, most girls...just won't go for that. I suppose some would, but usually, they want something a little more romantic. Try doing it without words."

Harry resisted the urge to ask her what she meant. If it killed him, he would figure this out on his own. No words...all right. Maybe he'd just grab her and kiss her. But she probably wouldn't like being torn away from her book like that.

Her hair was falling into her face, covering the soft curve of her cheek. Harry smiled to himself as an idea came to him.

He reached out and brushed her hair back, tucking it behind her ear. She seemed slightly surprised but said nothing. Experimentally, he pressed his lips to her temple; she closed her eyes. He moved down to her cheek, then down to her jaw, and finally kissed her neck, just below her ear. She shut her book with a sigh.

"W-was that alright?"

"Yes," she said, "That was very good, Harry. Keep going."

Harry felt his heart flutter pleasantly at the breathy tone of her voice. He didn't know if he could make her love him, but he could make her sound like that.... It was something, having the power to turn composed, sensible Hermione into the breathless, whimpering creature she was now as he kissed his way back to her mouth.

Her book landed on the floor with a thud as her fingers tangled in his hair, urging him closer. He never wanted to leave this, this feeling...

"Mmm - Harry - bed would be - a good idea -"

Harry attempted to guide them to the bed walking backwards, but it was very difficult to do without breaking away from her, and he didn't want to do that, not when this was going so well. They made it about halfway before he became too frustrated and lifted her off her feet to carry her over.

She laughed against his neck. "A little impatient?"

"A little," he admitted, depositing her on the bed and crawling on after her.

"There's no need to rush," she said. "It's not a race."

Harry nodded, reminded forcefully that this was nothing more than a lesson. He returned to her lips feeling rather embarrassed; he shouldn't have let himself get so carried away with her.

They continued in relative silence. Hermione seemed intent on driving him mad tonight, the bloody tease... Didn't she know what she was doing with all the sounds she was making and the wriggling - was that really necessary?

And then...she did something he'd never thought she'd actually do, under the circumstances - without giving him any warning whatsoever, she slipped her hands under his shirt and ran them up the rather sensitive skin of his back.

I can't believe she just did that...does she think she can just get away with that? Bloody, bloody tease...Merlin, I hope she doesn't stop.

Harry decided retaliation was in order. If she was going to go torturing him like that, he wasn't going to miss the opportunity to do the same to her. He'd been trying very hard to restrain himself from touching her that way, but she'd crossed a line...and so he wasn't going to feel any guilt about reaching under her shirt and grabbing her breast.

Hermione gasped loudly and dug her fingernails into his back. Harry wasn't sure if he minded or not...her fingernails didn't look very sharp, but they were sort of painful clutching him like that. Then again, it was also very gratifying to have her clinging onto him as if her life depended on it.

Experimentally, he placed his other hand on her thigh, inching upward. He knew he shouldn't...his fingers were getting so very close to that and she most certainly wasn't going to let him touch that and he shouldn't even be tempting himself...but she wasn't stopping him. Why wasn't she stopping him?

Why can't I stop thinking long enough to enjoy this?

He sighed against her lips, trying to give in to the feeling of her mouth on his and her skin beneath his fingertips. He couldn't understand how he hadn't noticed just how much skin she had before. Her legs were so much longer than the school uniform let on. Surely her thighs were never-ending...

Oh, but they were - he'd reached the edge of her knickers and she was still going about business like nothing was amiss, like he wasn't taking them past the point of no return in their relationship. She might let him do it. Just a few inches over, and he'd be touching her there.

Who was he kidding? He couldn't do that, not when she hadn't consented outright to it - not when she hadn't told him she wanted him to do it.

He pulled his hand away and placed it on her hip, above her clothing. Hermione gave no vocal indication of her feelings about his decision, and he didn't open his eyes to see her expression.

By some tacit understanding that his action had brought on, she moved her own hands to more platonic areas to be touching, and he followed suit, wondering if he'd messed everything up...if what he'd been on the verge of doing had changed things irrevocably.

Their kisses became lighter, perhaps because their thoughts were occupied elsewhere, or maybe just because they were eager to get past all of the mess and pretend that everything was normal...perfectly normal. Either way, Harry eventually found himself pulling away from her entirely, lying beside her. She smiled at him and nestled closer, evidently wanting to snuggle again. He took this as a sign that she was not upset with him. The relief was potent.

He wrapped his arms about her and drew her closer, and she lay pressed against his side with her head pillowed on his chest. She closed her eyes with a sleepy humming sound.

Harry was again surprised to find how emotionally he reacted to simply holding this girl. She seemed so much smaller than usual, tucked away in his arms...so delicate and vulnerable with her eyes shut and her lips curved upward every so slightly in contentment. Hermione had never seemed fragile to him before, but watching her now, he thought perhaps she was...much more than she'd ever let on. It made him want to protect her from the world.

So maybe he still wasn't being entirely truthful with himself. Maybe he didn't just feel slightly more for her than she did for him. Maybe...just maybe, he was in love with her.

This really wasn't supposed to happen.

Harry was beginning to think Hermione had fallen asleep when she finally spoke.

"I suppose you don't need me anymore now."

Frowning in confusion, he looked down at her. Need her? He'd always needed her. "What are you talking about?"

"The lessons," she said, with a small smile that didn't quite reach her eyes. She seemed...sad. Anxious, perhaps. "Clearly, you know what you're doing now. It's time to...go out and kiss other girls. That was the point, wasn't it?"

Harry nodded slowly, feeling a heaviness settle into his stomach that he didn't like at all. So she'd figured out how he felt. She had to know by now. And that had to be why she wanted to stop the lessons now, when just two days ago she'd been happy to continue. It's time to go out and kiss other girls. Harry wasn't so daft that he couldn't take a hint.

She doesn't want me.

He felt as though he might vomit. Maybe he was going to end up spewing slugs like Ron had; that would explain the lump in his throat he could hardly breathe through.

Carefully, he disentangled himself from her. "Yeah - yeah, I suppose you're right." He moved off the bed. "I'll - I'll just...go, then."

Hermione sat up, looking distraught. He was expecting her to ask if he was all right, perhaps explain that it wasn't him, that she just couldn't see him that way. Instead, she said in a small, quiet voice, "Okay. If that's what you want."

He wanted to scream at her, tell her that of course it wasn't what he wanted, but he wasn't about to embarrass himself any more than he already had. He'd just...let it die, and hope that he hadn't lost her forever.

"I'll see you later, then," he said, heading for the door. He didn't turn around to see the look on her face; he wasn't sure he could bear it.

As he headed aimlessly down the hall, he couldn't help wondering if he'd ever feel like himself again.

To be continued