Bewitched, Bothered and Bewildered

Chapter 12 The Yule Ball

The students and staff of Hogwarts met the change of seasons with mixed emotions as the cool crisp air of fall gave way to the bone-chilling temperatures of winter and finally, the coveted first snowfall. Young and old alike thrilled at the sight of snowflakes floating lazily to the ground outside of the castle windows. Winter's arrival also brought with it thoughts of the Christmas holidays, which all students looked forward to the minute the excitement of being back at school evaporated. December also brought with it the most popular of all Hogwarts' traditions -- The Yule Ball.

Five years earlier, when Voldemort and the Death Eaters had been defeated, the wizarding world celebrated, much as it had sixteen years prior when Harry Potter first became "The Boy Who Lived." However, the knowledge that Voldemort had survived that first encounter with mortality and engineered his own rebirth some years later tempered this celebration. While everyone understood that Voldemort's defeat had been final this time, that did not mean that another dark wizard would not take his place. They knew that the threat of dark magic was constant, and they had learned that life was short. Albus Dumbledore, the headmaster at the time, had decided that future Hogwarts students should reap the rewards of the Dark Lord's defeat. They would be able to focus on being kids, something that previous generations weren't always able to do. The first step that he had taken toward that aim was to make the Yule Ball, the party traditionally held only during the Triwizard Tournament, an annual event for the entire school.

The responsibility for decorating the Great Hall for the party rotated yearly between the houses. As a result, it had become a competition to see who could outdo the previous year's decorations. This year, Gryffindor had chosen "White Christmas" as its theme and the Great Hall was bathed in white. The traditional twelve Christmas trees were flocked with snow, each decorated in its own unique manner. The largest tree was infested with hundreds of silver, flying fairies, giving the impression that the tree was alive, pulsing with energy. The ceiling was enchanted to reflect a midnight blue sky with hundreds of sparkling stars and a full moon, bathing the hall in a soothing glow. Snowflakes were falling gently from the enchanted sky, disappearing before landing.

"When do you leave for the Burrow?" Minerva asked. Hermione was standing in the middle of the hall with the headmistress, waiting for the students to begin arriving and admiring the decorations as they discussed their plans for the holidays.

"Some time tomorrow after the students leave. Are you sure you don't need me to stay?"

Minerva waved her hand. "No, no. There aren't very many students staying this year. Severus, Poppy and I can handle any problems that arise, although I don't expect any."

"I'll be back on Boxing Day, at any rate. I have quite a bit to do before the students return."

"Is Harry going to the Burrow, also?"

"I believe so." Hermione held out her hand palm up and watched as the magical snowflakes disappeared just before touching her skin.

"It seems you and Harry have reached a détente."

"You make it sound like we were at war. It was just a couple of pranks."

A smile tugged at the corners of Minerva's mouth. Knowing her so well, Hermione could tell she was struggling to maintain her rigid, stern composure while greatly appreciating the prank Hermione had pulled on Harry. Years earlier, during one of their more intimate talks, Minerva had revealed to Hermione that she had been quite the prankster during her time at Hogwarts. Professor Dumbledore, who at the time had been her Head of House, had been forced to give her detention on numerous occasions. She, of course, swore Hermione to secrecy to protect her reputation as a strict disciplinarian.

"Is there something you'd like to discuss with me, Minerva?" Hermione asked after a moment.

"I have heard quite an interesting rumor going around the castle, Professor," Minerva said with mirth.

"I'm sure you have," Hermione replied dryly.

"Is it true?"

"It depends on which version you have heard. The version where Harry and I were caught in a compromising position in the Room of Requirement is not true. The Quidditch Pitch version -- not true either. Nor is the Astronomy Tower or the Owlery, which really is an odd one. There is nothing romantic about the Owlery with that offensive smell and rat bones all over the floor." She crinkled her nose and shuddered. "The truth is that Harry put on quite a good show for Charlotte Tiere when I arrived home from London, giving me a very dramatic, old movie kiss and proceeding to tell Charlotte that we wanted to...," she paused, miming quotation marks with her fingers, "'keep our love to ourselves' for a while."

Minerva smiled. "My, my, how clever Harry is." She studied Hermione and said, "I'm surprised you aren't more upset about these rumors."

"I was at first but, honestly, they are so ridiculous as to lose any credibility. I was a little concerned that it would undermine my authority with my students, but the opposite seems to have happened. The boys are all looking at me in a whole new light, which I admit is a little disturbing. The girls, at least the ones that don't belong to the Harry Potter Fan Club -- they hate me, are heartened by the fact that such an average looking bookworm could land a bloke like Harry. They are beside themselves with optimism for their romantic future." She chuckled. "The truth, that we are not a couple, just isn't as exciting to anyone."

"You aren't a couple," Minerva intoned incredulously.

"No, we aren't. Of course, Harry thinks we are and that we just need to make it official."

"How would you do that?"

Hermione looked away towards a Christmas tree. "Use your imagination."

Color crept into Minerva's cheeks. "I think I'd rather not."

Hermione blushed and whispered, "We haven't even kissed. The kiss Charlotte saw was a stage kiss and all for show. He completely caught me off guard, which is probably a good thing. I'm afraid Charlotte would have had quite an eyeful if I had kissed him back properly."

Minerva smiled at her surrogate daughter. "Are you in love with him?" she asked gently.

Hermione choked back a laugh. "That is rather direct, even for you Minerva!" She looked at Minerva, who shrugged her shoulder slightly and waited patiently for an answer.

Hermione sighed, thrown by hearing aloud the question she had been asking herself for weeks. "I have no idea. I do know that no one has ever made me feel the way he does. Does that mean I'm in love with him? I don't know."

And how do I find out without getting hurt ... or hurting Harry?

"This is precisely why I haven't gotten involved with anyone in so long. It is too complicated and there is simply no way to know for sure. Is what I feel for him love? Or am I just more attracted to him than anyone else before? Is that all it is -- some sort of sexual attraction I haven't felt before disguising itself as love? How does he feel about me? How do I feel about him? Does he fancy me more than I fancy him? Do I fancy him more? Does it matter? Where is this going to go? Does it need to go anywhere? What will happen when the newness wears off and the romance dissipates? Would we be better off just remaining friends? Could I even stand to see him with another woman?" She turned to Minerva. "The questions are endless."

Minerva was looking at her with an expression that Hermione was quite sure she had never seen from her mentor before. Her mouth was gaping open in stunned astonishment. "My dear child, it is a wonder your head hasn't exploded. This isn't a logical problem to solve, Hermione; you aren't going to find the solution in a book. How does he make you feel? That is what is important. All of the other ...," she waved her hand in the air, "details will sort themselves out in time."

Hermione sighed before concluding, "Take away the details and I guess I probably am in love with him."

A self-satisfied smile flickered across Minerva's features. She gave Hermione's shoulder a motherly pat. "Good."

Hermione looked at her quizzically and asked a question that she had been mulling in her mind for a few weeks. "Minerva? When you hired Harry, was this your intention?"

For a brief moment, Minerva looked guilty. But her expression cleared quickly and she replied, "Nonsense. We needed a Flying Instructor and Harry was available."

Hermione continued to gaze at her silently, doubting her truthfulness. Minerva looked towards the door of the Great Hall, which was beginning to fill with students. "I will say that I always did think you two would make a lovely couple." She paused and smiled. "Ah, speak of the devil."

Hermione turned to see Harry walking through the Great Hall towards the two of them. As happened every time she saw him lately, her breath caught in her throat and her stomach began to gambol around wildly. How anyone could make a basic black dress robe look so good, Hermione could not fathom. Out of the corner of her eye, she saw Minerva looking at her with a shrewd expression on her face. Hermione turned to her with a mischievous grin. "He does look good, doesn't he?"

Minerva cleared her throat. "I would say that is putting it mildly."

This robe, unlike most, fit around Harry's torso more like a tuxedo coat, with the bottom beginning to flare out at his hips, giving the impression that he was gliding across the floor. Peeking out of the top of his robe was a silver colored silk tie around the collar of a crisp, white dress shirt. Hermione noticed that every eye in the Great Hall turned and watched Harry stride across the room.

How could they resist? He's the most dashing man here.

He arrived in front of them, giving them a gentlemanly bow. "Good evening ladies."

"Hello, Harry," Minerva said. "You look very nice."

"Thank you, Headmistress. So do you," he replied, not taking his eyes off of Hermione.

Clearing her throat a little too loudly, Minerva said, "Well, I must be going to check on...something." And she was gone.

Harry and Hermione stood there, staring at each other without saying anything for an interminably long moment. Finally, Harry broke the silence. "Hello, beautiful."

Hermione glanced over one shoulder, then the other, and turned back to Harry, her eyes dancing with mirth. "To whom are you speaking?"

"As if you don't know," he replied, taking her hand and placing it through his arm, leading her to the head table.

"That was quite an entrance for someone that doesn't want to be the center of attention," she said playfully.

"What are you on about? I just walked into the room," Harry said, completely nonplussed.

"Apparently, you didn't notice every pair of eyes follow you through the room."

They reached the head table and Harry pulled out a chair for Hermione. She sat down, and as he was pushing her chair forward, he leaned his head close to hers and whispered, "No. I only noticed you."

So this is what it is like to be pursued by a man. I wonder if I should tell him he doesn't have to try so hard?

He smiled and sat down beside her, casually draping his arm across the back of her chair. Never considering herself the type of person that would crave attention from a man, Hermione reluctantly admitted to herself that she was enjoying Harry's advances and compliments. And the way he looked at her did make her swoon, another symptom that previously would not have afflicted serious, by-the-book Hermione. Selfishly, she decided to wait a little longer to tell him she was hooked. After all, excessive attention usually ended after marriage.

She stopped unfolding her serviette abruptly.

What in the world? Marriage?! Where did that thought come from? I haven't even kissed him yet and I'm thinking about marriage? Get a grip, Hermione. You have no idea what his intentions are. You may just be a challenge for him, nothing more. Chances are he is settling a curiosity he has about you. You have been friends for so long that it is natural to explore the depth of the feelings. Just like you and Ron.

"Hermione? What's wrong?"

Startled, Hermione looked at Harry. "Nothing, nothing at all. Why?"

"You have the most peculiar look on your face."

She smiled faintly. "I'm fine. Just hungry," she lied. In conjunction with her other thoughts, the idea of food at the moment made her sick. She took a deep, steadying breath, chiding herself to stop overanalyzing everything and wondering if she would ever have the ability to be spontaneous, to impulsively follow her feelings without thought to the consequences or results.

The question is, would the short-term benefits of impulsively following my feelings outweigh the long-term possibility of rejection and hurt?

That's your idea of not overanalyzing?

Desperate to escape her thoughts, Hermione asked, a little too brightly, "Have you seen Neville and Ginny yet?"

Harry, who was still looking at her with a puzzled expression said, "Not yet." Harry looked around the room admiringly. "There is nothing like Christmas at Hogwarts," he said wistfully.

"They did a superb job on the decorations this year. It isn't always so magnificent. A few years ago a Hufflepuff prefect convinced the house that it would be 'cool' to have an 'Island Christmas' theme. Minerva let them do it but insisted they incorporate the traditional twelve Christmas trees in the decorations. That was all fine and good, until the entertainment they scheduled turned out to be a bongo band, hula dancers and a flame-blowing native. After the third Christmas tree caught fire, Minerva called an end to the festivities. Mind you, no one was too terribly disappointed, seeing as it was impossible to dance to the bongo band. Minerva required that all decorations be 'traditional' from then on."

Harry laughed. "Now, that's quite a visual -- McGonagall in a grass skirt. I'm going to have nightmares for weeks." He shook his head as if to clear it. Looking sideways at Hermione he added, "Now you in a grass skirt...that I wouldn't mind seeing."

"Keep dreaming, Potter," she said dismissively. "There are Ginny and Neville!" She rose part way from her chair and waved to the couple entering the hall. Watching them walk across the hall, Hermione was hit with a bit of déjà vu, remembering the first Yule Ball. But the two people walking toward her now barely resembled the awkward witch and wizard from their youth. Neville, smiling and looking slightly nervous (no doubt, Hermione thought, worried about his dancing skills, which had not improved with time), looked very handsome and confident indeed in his basic black dress robe. Ginny, still able to pass as a student due to her petite frame, was wearing an emerald green silk robe, her red hair pulled up elegantly in a smooth French twist.

Ginny returned her wave and pointed her out to Neville. Holding hands, they made their way to the teacher's table and sat down next to Harry and Hermione.

"You look beautiful, Ginny!" Hermione exclaimed as Ginny sat down next to her. Hermione turned to Neville, who was shaking Harry's hand and whispering something in his ear. Harry laughed and winked at Neville, but quickly put on a serious face when he saw Hermione watching him.

Minerva tapped her glass with her fork to get everyone's attention and begin the feast. After a few words of welcome, the tables were filled with all manner of food: roasted chicken, pork chops, standing rib roast, potatoes, vegetables, and baskets overflowing with bread. Harry rubbed his hands together in anticipation and repeated, "I love Christmas at Hogwarts!" before diving into a little bit of everything. Hermione smiled, thinking of Ron as she always did during Hogwarts' banquets. No one appreciated a good meal quite like Ron, although Harry was giving it a good go.

"How are things coming with Harry?" Ginny whispered between bites of roast pork.

Hermione glanced at Harry, who was talking to Professor Sprout. "Slowly," she said, turning slightly in her chair to block her conversation with Ginny from Harry.

"What are you waiting for? From what you've told me, he is obviously interested. I mean, how can you not jump him when he looks that good?"

"Ginny!" Hermione said scandalously. "What about Neville?"

"I didn't say I wanted to jump Harry! Just because I'm mad about Neville doesn't mean I can't appreciate how fit Harry is." Ginny looked back to make sure Neville wasn't listening. "Seriously, Hermione. What are you waiting for?"

Hermione shrugged her shoulders noncommittally. "I guess I'm waiting for it to make sense."

"Make sense? Since when has love ever made sense?"

"I'm not trying to solve for pi here, but think about it. It was less than three months ago that I was sitting in your flat vehemently denying that I felt anything for Harry."

"I knew you were lying," Ginny said dismissively, stabbing a potato with her fork.

"But that is just it, Ginny! I wasn't lying at all! I swear to you, these feelings I have for Harry are new. That's what doesn't make sense. How can I have fallen so fast for someone I've known for so long?"

"Trust me, when you kiss him for the first time, you won't care a jot. I can say this from experience: Harry is an excellent kisser."

"Thanks for reminding me about that," Hermione said sarcastically.

"Well, I never shagged him, so you can give me the details about that."

"Can we change the subject please?"

"Why, when this topic is making you so uncomfortable?"

"So," Hermione said, putting on a false smile. "What do you think Harry and Neville are up to? Have you seen all the whispering and winking?"

"My guess is they are planning their next big prank on Snape. Harry created a monster. Neville thinks after their one prank on Snape that he is Mr. Jokester. He keeps trying to pull things over on me, and of course, he never does. I've pretended a couple of times, just to make him feel better. He just looks so sad when his pranks don't work. That little lost puppy look gets me every time." She turned and gave Neville a kiss on the cheek.

"What was that for?" he asked with a smile.

Ginny shrugged her shoulders flippantly. "No reason."

"Hey Neville!" Harry called leaning across Hermione slightly. "Not in front of the students!"

Hermione stopped midway through cutting her asparagus and looked up. It had happened so fast, she was sure she imagined it. She looked over at Harry, who was leaning casually back in his chair and draping his arm across the back of hers. He winked at her and smiled conspiratorially, confirming in her mind that in fact she hadn't just imagined Harry's hand slide up and down her leg as he leaned across her to admonish Neville. Hermione deliberately laid her cutlery down across her plate and delicately wiped her mouth with her serviette.

"I think you should take your own advice, Harry."

"What advice is that, Hermione?"

"You know what I'm talking about."

"No, I don't."

Hermione refolded her serviette in her lap and shook her head in amazement at how audacious Harry was being.

After dessert had been served, the tables magically disappeared to allow room for the dance floor. A few comfortable upholstered chairs and sofas, along with less comfortable but more numerous straight back wooden chairs appeared around the perimeter of the room. The older students commandeered the more comfortable chairs from the younger students and waited for the band to begin playing.

Hermione stood up. "I'm going to walk around. If I sit here any longer, I'm going to explode. I ate way too much."

Harry popped up from his seat. "I'll come with you." Hermione caught Harry giving Neville a thumbs-up behind Ginny's back, and Neville return the gesture. She looked at Harry appraisingly, as he quickly forced a serious expression, but this time it was obvious he was struggling to hide a smile.

Hermione walked through the hall with Harry trailing behind her. They made their way out to the cavernous entrance hall. Once they were well out of earshot of the students scattered around waiting for the music to start, she turned to Harry. "Okay, spill it. What are you and Neville up to?"

"I'm not up to anything at all," he replied seriously.

She looked at him skeptically. "Then what is it with all of the thumbs-up signals and the winking," she asked, mimicking his gestures from earlier in an exaggerated manner.

Harry gave her a lopsided, endearing grin. "It is driving you mad that you don't know everything, isn't it?"

"No," she said in annoyance, drawing herself up proudly. She flipped her hair behind her shoulder in a dismissive gesture and surveyed the students in the hall, determinedly looking away from Harry.

"Hey," he said, getting her attention.

Hermione turned to him with eyebrows raised in question. "You're cute when you are in a huff."

"I am not..."

"Listen," Harry interrupted. The sound of music was wafting from the Great Hall and echoing off the walls in the huge entrance hall. "They're playing our song," Harry said, offering Hermione his arm.

"We don't have a song."

"We will before the night is over," he replied cheekily. Smiling and holding his hand out, he asked, "May I have this dance?"

Hermione vaguely remembered that she was irked with him about something, but at the moment couldn't recall what it was. "Do you know how to dance?" she asked, taking his proffered hand.

"Not very well."

"Lovely," she said sarcastically.

They walked onto the almost vacant dance floor and Harry pulled her into his arms. They stood there for a moment, Hermione waiting for Harry to take the lead. She looked around nervously at the students and teachers staring at the two of them standing stock still on the dance floor, when it became apparent after a minute that he wasn't going to move.

"Um, Harry? It is traditional to move when you dance."

"Oh, right. Well, I said I wasn't very good at this."

They began to slowly move around the dance floor. Soon other couples joined them until they were one in a sea of many swaying couples. Hermione was acutely aware of every part of Harry's body that was touching hers: his hand on the small of her back, his thumb periodically rubbing her spine; his other hand clasped to hers, warm and smooth; his cheek resting gently on her head, the sound of his slow steady breathing and his warm breath tickling her ear.

"Harry?" Hermione started.

"Hmm?"

What was I going to say? I can't remember.

Harry pulled his head back to look at her. "Did you want to tell me something?"

She shook her head. "Never mind."

Shrugging his shoulders, he returned his head to its former position and pulled Hermione even closer. As much as she didn't want to, she pulled away slightly. "Harry, we need to remember where and who we are."

"The 'who we are' can't change but the 'where we are' can. Care to take a walk?"

"May I cut in?" Snape's silky voice interrupted.

Harry immediately tensed and turned. "No, you may not."

"Harry..." Hermione started.

"My, my, aren't we possessive," Snape said sardonically.

Harry's eyes narrowed.

"That would be lovely, Severus, thank you," Hermione interjected, releasing Harry's hand.

Snape whisked Hermione away in a dramatic, graceful move, leaving Harry standing alone in the middle of the dance floor, fury etched on his face.

Harry stalked off the dance floor, seething. Of all the people to cut in on his dance with Hermione, it had to be Snape. He watched Snape guide Hermione gracefully across the dance floor and anger roiled through him. Harry caught Hermione's eye and she gave him a smile and a wave. As he returned the gestures, Snape turned her around and gave Harry a self-satisfied sneer, which he followed up with a complicated twirly dance move that Harry knew he would never be able to accomplish.

Bastard.

Harry continued to torture himself, never taking his eyes off them. He was somewhat heartened by the fact that, despite the elegant dancing, Hermione's expression was grim. Snape seemed to be enjoying himself, keeping a running commentary on something. Undoubtedly, Harry thought, he's giving her a comprehensive list of Harry's shortcomings and faults.

As the last note of the song died out, Harry started toward Hermione, watching Snape give her a gentlemanly bow and shoot Harry a smarmy sneer.

"Let's finish our dance." He pulled her to him again, this time holding her a little more tightly, possessively.

"You're not angry?" Hermione asked skeptically in his ear.

"Not at you. I know Snape was just trying to wind me up. And you didn't seem to be enjoying yourself too much, which helped my mood considerably." He leaned his head back to look at her. "Tell me honestly. Who is the better dancer?"

"I would much rather dance with you," she replied.

He studied her for a moment and pulled her to him again. "You didn't answer the question, but I liked the answer, so I'll let it go."

They continued dancing in silence, Harry more than a little self-conscious about his lack of grace on the dance floor, although not enough to stop dancing when the song ended and a new one began.

"You are going to make me dance all night, aren't you?" Hermione asked.

"Until the sun comes up."

"Let's lower our expectations just a bit, twinkle-toes."

"What was Snape bending your ear about?"

"Nothing really," Hermione said evasively. "You know Severus."

"No, I know Snape."

"He actually gave you a compliment, in a backhanded sort of way."

"This should be good."

"He is impressed with your ability to get out of trouble."

Harry waited, as Hermione seemed to be debating on whether or not to continue. "And?" he prompted.

She shook her head vigorously. "It's nothing. Just Snape trying to make me doubt you."

This means war.

"Tell me," Harry demanded. Seeing the look of defiance on Hermione's face at being ordered to do anything, Harry added, "Please."

Her defiant expression softened a bit, into one of warning. It was a gentle reminder to Harry that, regardless of how their relationship progressed, Hermione was not a witch to be told to do anything. Attempting to ingratiate himself with her again, he gave her his most charming smile. "Pretty please?"

She gave a resigned sigh and said, "He questions whether or not you have been completely truthful with me, whether or not you have earned my forgiveness."

Harry inhaled deeply, trying to control the urge to do bodily harm to his archenemy. He exhaled slowly and looked at Hermione. "What do you think?"

Her brows furrowed. She replied, "I don't think you have lied to me. But I think there is still something you aren't telling me."

"Well," Ron's voice said, "there goes your wish that she had figured out your secret and didn't care."

"There is a lot I haven't told you, just like there is a lot you haven't told me, because we haven't asked. But none of it affects how we feel about each other. Still, ask me anything. I won't lie to you."

Harry could almost see the wheels turning in Hermione's mind. He held her gaze confidently, concentrating on the golden flecks in her eyes, to keep his mind off the potential disaster that lay ahead. After what seemed like an eternity, she said, "I trust you, Harry. There is nothing else I need to know."

Harry's stomach clenched, whether it was from pleasure or anxiety brought on by her words, he wasn't sure. He pushed his nervousness from his mind and pulled Hermione close once again, enjoying the feel of her body pressed against his. He caught sight of Neville and Ginny a few feet away.

"Do you like surprises?" Harry asked, turning her around to see Neville bending down on one knee in front of Ginny, holding an open jewelry box in his outstretched hands. Ginny gasped and covered her mouth in shock. Although her voice was drowned out by the music, it was obvious she had just yelled, "Yes!" as she threw herself in Neville's arms, crying and laughing at the same time.

"You knew about this, didn't you?"

"Months ago," Harry replied smugly.

Harry and Hermione smiled as they watched Neville put the ring on Ginny's finger and give her a kiss. "They make such a great couple. They really are meant for each other."

Harry nodded, watching Hermione gaze at the newly engaged couple. "Well, I think some things are just destined to be, don't you?"

Hermione slowly returned her eyes to his. "Written in the stars?"

Harry pulled her closer and resumed dancing. "Something like that."

Harry had hardly cleared his head from the intoxicating scent of Hermione's hair, when she released him suddenly. He opened his eyes, unaware they had been closed, to see Neville grinning from ear to ear and Hermione and Ginny embracing each other and laughing.

"Come on, Hermione. Let's go freshen up," Ginny said, grabbing Hermione's hand and dragging her through the few dancing couples still on the floor.

Harry looked at Neville and rolled his eyes. "I guess they never outgrow that, do they?"

"Nope."

"So, I'm guessing she said yes."

"Never any doubt in my mind."

"Yeah, right."

"So my plan worked to perfection. How is yours coming?"

"Besides Snape interrupting, smooth as glass."

"What phase are you in?"

Harry slapped Neville on the shoulder and said, "The 'if this doesn't happen soon I'm going to pack up for the monastery' phase," before heading off in the direction of the ladies toilet.

"Good luck!" Neville called.

Harry continued walking and waved to Neville over his shoulder, giving him the thumbs-up sign.

Harry felt more than a little silly loitering by the girls' toilet. It seemed that the entire female population of Hogwarts entered and exited in the time he stood there. It didn't help his apprehension that every girl giggled and began whispering to their friend or friends, as they traveled in packs, when they saw him. He leaned his shoulder up against the stone wall prepared to continue waiting.

What in the world are they doing in there?

"If the number of girls coming from the toilet is any indication, there must be some queue," Ron's voice said.

Eight giggling girls later, Hermione and Ginny emerged, looking exactly as they had before they left 20 minutes earlier to 'freshen up.' Harry walked up behind Hermione, putting his arm around her waist, startling her.

"Excuse us, Ginny. Hermione promised me a walk."

Harry gently steered Hermione away from Ginny's smirking face and down the nearest corridor, away from the entrance hall.

"I promised you a walk?"

"Yes you did."

"When?"

"Right before Snape so rudely interrupted us."

"Interesting. I don't remember saying yes."

"Technically, you didn't. But you were about to."

"You sound fairly confident about that."

"Hopeful is more like it."

"We are chaperones Harry. We can't leave until it the dance is over."

"Neville's covering for us."

Hermione arched an eyebrow but continued on with Harry, much to his relief.

They turned a corner, leaving the muffled sounds of the people milling around the entrance hall behind. Confident they were alone, Harry stepped closer to Hermione and slipped his hand into hers. She paused, so fleetingly Harry almost thought he imagined the hesitation, before squeezing his hand briefly and intertwining her fingers with his.

Harry tried, but failed to keep the satisfied grin off of his face.

We're making progress.

They wandered the corridors, Harry completely distracted by the feel of Hermione's hand in his. Periodically he would look down to confirm that yes indeed, he was holding her hand. He couldn't believe that he had never done this particular thing with her before.

"Harry, are we going to wander the halls all night? I feel a bit like a prefect on duty."

"Wander the halls? I thought you were leading."

"No," Hermione said slowly, smiling. "You asked me to go for a walk, I assumed you knew where we were going."

"Hmm. Is that how it is supposed to work?"

"Normally."

"I would hardly call us 'normal.'"

"You have a point there."

"Well, well, well. What do we have here?" Harry released Hermione's hand and walked over to a tall, rusty suit of armor. He reached behind it and pulled out a basket. He lifted the lid and quickly shut it. "Oh, my!"

"What?" Hermione said, stepping closer to inspect it.

"Oh, I don't know if I should show you," Harry said, turning to protect the basket from Hermione. "I don't want some poor student to get detention for this."

"What is it?" Hermione said, kicking into strict disciplinarian mode.

Harry turned around and lifted the lid. "A picnic."

Confusion clouded Hermione's features as she inspected the contents of the basket: a bottle of wine, bread, cheese and fruit.

"Now, how would a Hogwarts student get something like this?" Harry asked incredulously.

Hermione lifted her eyes to his, comprehension dawning across her face. "I wonder."

"As teachers, it is our responsibility to confiscate this. We don't want our students out in the halls after hours drinking wine, now, do we?"

"Very good point."

"I do feel for the poor bloke that is counting on this to impress his date."

"I'm sure if he had the foresight to hide this basket, he is ingenious enough to think of a Plan B. Don't you reckon?"

"No. I'm pretty sure he is counting on this basket to do the trick."

Hermione suppressed a smile. "That is a rather thin plan."

"Well, my guess is he is desperate," Harry said, moving closer to Hermione, reaching for her hand again.

"Any idea where this desperate chap would take the girl he is trying to impress?" she asked softly, intertwining her fingers in his.

"The Astronomy Tower?" he whispered.

Hermione rolled her eyes. "Not very original."

"The Room of Requirement?"

"Even more overused than the Astronomy Tower and anyway, what is it you require, Mr. Potter?"

As Harry leaned in closer to Hermione, she leaned back away from him and said, "Not in front of the students."

Harry looked up and down the deserted corridor. "I see no students, Professor."

Hermione's eyes roamed Harry's face, settling on his lips. "Follow me. I know the perfect place," she whispered.

With a small, slightly nervous smile, she turned and led him down the hall in the direction of the faculty residences.

Hermione heard the soft click of Harry closing the door as she walked over to the fireplace. She unzipped her robe and tossed it onto the wing chair, revealing her Muggle clothes underneath. She wore conservative but form-fitting black trousers and a simple winter white cashmere jumper. With a swish and a flick of her wand, she directed three logs neatly into the fire. With another wave, air shot out the end of her wand, stoking the embers into flames. She turned and was immediately wrapped in Harry's arms. She gave a slight gasp, which Harry silenced by gently putting his fingers over her lips.

"Shhh. Before you say anything, just listen." He took his hand from her lips slowly and ran it through her hair, resting it on her neck, rubbing his thumb across the side of her throat just below her jaw line. "I have wanted to kiss you for months." He pulled her body closer to his, letting his eyes roam over her face to her lips. "I can't wait anymore. I have to know if your lips are as soft as they look. I just want one kiss. If you don't feel anything after that one kiss, then I'll go." He leaned down, his lips almost touching hers. "Can I kiss you?"

"Y..."

The moment Harry's lips met hers in a gentle, almost tentative kiss, an unfamiliar tingling sensation traveled through Hermione's body, seemingly dissolving her bones on its journey. All of the questions she had been mulling over regarding a relationship with Harry vanished. Months of nervousness and anxiety were replaced by tranquility and longing. Hermione heard a muted clattering sound of something hitting the floor as she reached up and slipped her hand behind his head, knotting her fingers in his silky, smooth hair, and pulled his head closer to hers.

Hermione felt Harry's hand cup her face and his tongue run across her lips seductively, eroding the scant barrier to prudence that remained with her. She arched her body into his and pulled his head down to hers, opening her mouth, eager to taste Harry completely and to end their cat and mouse game once and for all.

Hermione felt Harry's response in the intensity of his kiss and the groan of pleasure that traveled from his throat to hers. His tongue roamed her mouth, impeded on its journey of discovery by hers, which was just as eager in its tour. Harry abruptly pulled away, leaving Hermione dazed and gasping for breath.

"Does this mean you want me to stay?"

Hermione narrowed her eyes at him. "Playful banter time is over, Harry," she said, pulling his head down to kiss him soundly once again.

An indeterminate amount of time later they stood rooted to the same spot, their foreheads resting against each other, both more than a little out of breath.

"Wow," Hermione said softly.

"You can say that again."

"Wow," she said and they both smiled.

Harry rubbed his hands up and down her back. "That was definitely worth the wait," he said with a chuckle.

"You think so?"

"Oh, yes," he murmured as he lowered his head and started softly kissing her neck. Hermione's head fell to the side, her eyes closed and she sighed. Her breath caught as he slowly moved his kisses up her neck and nibbled on her earlobe. "Harry...?"

"Shhh," he said, lifting his head and placing a finger gently on her lips, looking directly into her eyes. "Let's not overanalyze this just yet," he whispered softly. "Plenty of time for that later." Holding her gaze, he gently kissed her lips. "Okay?"

Keeping his gaze, she trailed her finger down his jaw and cradled his chin in her hand. She pulled him forward until their lips almost touched and whispered, "Okay."

Teasingly, she lightly kissed him on the mouth, on his chin, slowly moving along his jaw until finally she nibbled on his ear, then moved on to the sensitive area of his neck just behind his ear. She heard Harry's breathing deepen and felt him once again draw her closer. His musky scent was stronger here and she felt a spike in her desire because of it. She pushed out of her mind a snippet of information she had read in a woman's magazine about male pheromones and concentrated on making Harry's breathing as ragged as possible. She didn't have the faintest idea what she was doing, but it seemed to be having the desired effect on Harry. Still nibbling his earlobe, she looked at his face to see his eyes closed, his features slack from desire. Pausing briefly to inhale his scent again, Hermione whispered reverently in his ear, "Harry."

He opened his eyes and gazed at her. "I can't believe this is happening. For a moment, before you said my name, I just knew it was a dream. Reality couldn't feel this good." He ran his hands up and down her arms slowly, softly, and said, in a husky voice, "Please tell me this isn't a dream."

"If it is, it is the best dream I've ever had."

"Hermione, this is only the beginning," he said, consuming her mouth with his in exclamation.

Hermione finally understood what was meant when lovers described seeing fireworks. Though her eyes were closed, brightly colored flashes of light were dancing behind her eyelids, blinding in their brilliance. Sensations she had heard about, but never felt to this degree, were coursing through her body. Hermione could feel Harry's hands rubbing her back through her thin cashmere jumper. They dipped lower and returned to her back, underneath her jumper, lightly stroking her skin. She marveled at the stirring inside her that this simple touch caused. His hands were so soft and gentle, and his kisses changed to reflect that mood. Hermione cupped his face with her hands, returning his kisses, stopping periodically to look in his eyes.

A veil was lifted, enabling Hermione to see Harry completely for the first time. In his eyes, she saw a mixture of emotions: desire, fear, and love. He was allowing her to see the side of him that hadn't been apparent before, despite his attention and advances. She realized that the confidence so evident in his demeanor the last few months was a carefully crafted facade; he was, in fact, just as nervous as she was about their relationship. Instead of worrying her, his apprehension comforted her; she was not alone, they would conquer their fears together. In her mind, she willingly crossed the threshold to a relationship with Harry at this precise moment.

She kissed him softly. "Harry?" she whispered into his lips. "You are amazing."

He looked at her and shook his head. "If I am, it's because of you." He leaned down and kissed her neck, and moved the neck of her jumper slightly, revealing her collarbone. He peppered kisses in the hollow of her neck and along her collarbone, then back up to her ear. "You bring out the best in me," he whispered.

She felt his hand return, thankfully, to caressing her back, and she again felt a thrill of desire radiate through her body. His hands traveled to her sides and slowly up under her arms, until his thumbs were stroking the sides of her breasts through the thin, lacey material of her bra. Hermione's knees buckled and Harry quickly caught her around the waist before she tumbled to the ground.

He smiled gently at her and said softly, "You like that?"

Attempting to regain some composure, she slightly cleared her throat, and absently moved her hair out of her face. She looked into his eyes and completely lost her train of thought. Disoriented, she asked, "What was the question, again?"

His smile widened. "You answered it."

Never taking his eyes from hers, his hands retraced their former path up her sides. Though looking at Harry's face, Hermione's mind was focused on his hands and how they felt on her skin -- smooth, warm and loving. She felt a million goosebumps spring to her skin and a chill run across her body in response. She fought to keep her composure, not wanting his hands to pause even for a moment in their exploration. She followed his hands' progress around her back, pausing when they reached the center.

"It's in the front."

Harry paused, as if slightly shocked by the invitation. Hermione held his gaze displaying more confidence than she felt, hoping Harry couldn't feel or hear her heart galloping in her chest.

His hands leisurely made their way around, his fingers arching teasingly across the top of her breasts, finally resting in the hollow between. He bent down and kissed her lightly on the lips. "Is this okay?"

Hermione reached under her shirt and deftly released the latch of her bra in response. Harry slowly moved the lace away from her breasts, replacing it with the palms of his hands. Hermione heard a catch of breath, not entirely sure if it was hers or Harry's, and saw his eyes darken with desire. Her eyes drooped closed in pleasure as his fingers began to caress her nipples.

"Hermione?" Harry leaned down and ran kisses down her neck. "How far do you want this to go tonight?"

Hermione, her head tilted back in pleasure, enjoying the multitude of sensations she was receiving from Harry, opened her eyes to the ceiling. "I don't know."

Harry stopped kissing her and pulled his head back to look at her. "We can stop if you aren't ready," he whispered. He gently covered her breasts with her bra and slipped his hands out from under her jumper.

Hermione stood there, stunned at how abruptly it ended. The pleasant feeling that previously resided in her stomach was replaced by a feeling of dread as, unbidden, her insecurities came crashing down on her.

"Oh. Okay." She turned her back on Harry, slipping her hands under her jumper, refastening her brassiere.

"What's wrong?" She heard him ask, voice laden with concern.

She rounded on him, eyes blazing in anger. "I'm not a virgin, you know; this isn't completely foreign to me."

"What? I didn't think..."

"Have you settled your curiosity, then?" she interrupted.

"Settled my curiosity? Wha...?" Harry's dumfounded expression cleared and he laughed, which only infuriated Hermione even more. She stalked past him on her way to where, she didn't know, when he grabbed her arm and turned her around.

"You think all this, the last few months of inching towards this moment, have been me settling a curiosity? I've got news for you, Hermione. There isn't a man in the world that would be as patient and understanding as I have been if they were just curious. A quick shag isn't what I have in mind."

"It's not, is it? Well, enlighten me, why don't you?" Hermione said scathingly, crossing her arms across her chest.

Harry crossed his arms, mimicking Hermione. "Are you sure you want to know?" he challenged.

"Yes," she responded automatically, without considering if she really did want to know.

Harry uncrossed his arms and stepped toward her, placing his hands gently on her shoulders. "Don't think for one moment that I don't want to stay here with you all night, making love to you. I want to kiss your neck, caress your soft skin, and feel your body next to mine more than anything in this world," he said, demonstrating each in turn, ending with pulling her into his arms. Hermione, her arms still crossed between them causing her to arch her back to look up at Harry, felt the evidence of his desire, banishing her insecurities to the back of her mind yet again.

"You can't imagine how hard it is going to be to walk out that door," Harry whispered. "But I want you to be as sure about it as I am. If you were, you wouldn't have said 'I don't know.' When we finally do make love, Hermione, I want it to be the first time, not the only time."

This is why we stick with logic. When you are emotional, you completely overreact.

Hermione uncrossed her arms and put her head in her hands, hiding her face in Harry's chest. "I feel like such an idiot."

"You shouldn't. I should've handled it better. I didn't come here expecting to sleep with you. I just wanted to settle my curiosity...about your lips."

Hermione punched him in the stomach and laughed. Harry doubled over in mock injury with a loud, "Umph. Hey! Don't beat me up before I decide about your lips. I need another kiss to make sure."

"Nope," Hermione said, pressing her lips together tightly and turning her head away from Harry.

"Come on, just one kiss." He moved his head in a futile attempt to capture her lips. Hermione was moving her head from side to side, up and down, thwarting every open opportunity Harry had. Sighing, he dropped his hands from around Hermione's waist and stepped back in defeat. "I guess I'll nev..."

Hermione threw her arms around his neck and cut his response off with a mind-blowing kiss.

"Well?" she asked, when she pulled away from him.

"Amazingly soft. Just as I feared."

"Feared?"

"I am going to be completely distracted by your lips for the rest of my life."

Hermione ran her hands through his hair and looked up into Harry's smiling face. "I'm sorry."

"Oh, I'm sure I'll learn to live with it."

"No, not about that. I'm sorry about overreacting." She looked down at the front of Harry's robe. "For not being ready."

"The first apology I accept. Settling a curiosity ... honestly! The second apology isn't necessary now or ever." He gave her a quick kiss on the nose. "Don't give it a second thought." He stretched out his arm and looked at his watch. "I'd better go. I'll turn into a screaming mandrake if I don't get my beauty rest."

"What do you know about beauty rest?"

"I lived in a house with three girls, two gay guys and a parade of bimbos waltzing in and out of Wyatt's room. I know more than I care to admit about beauty rest, mud masks, how to get rid of circles under your eyes, which," he felt under his eyes with his fingertips, "I feel puffing already."

"You are a right piece of work, Harry."

"I try."

He leaned down and opened the picnic basket and began rummaging around.

"Sorry about your picnic."

He stood up and turned around. "That's okay, it was just a sneaky way to get this in here without seeming too presumptuous," he said, holding up his Invisibility Cloak.

Hermione's eyes opened wide in surprise. "That is a bit bold, even for you, Harry."

"No, not bold. Confident. Well ... okay, desperate is a better word." He threw the cloak around his shoulders. "Care to give your boyfriend a good night kiss?"

Hermione smiled at him, stood on her tiptoes and kissed him softly on the lips.

He released a breath. "You didn't deny the boyfriend comment."

"I didn't deny the boyfriend comment."

Harry nodded his head and gave a lopsided grin. "We're making progress."

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