Are We Lovers or Are We Friends?

"Are We Lovers or Are We Friends? (And Can We Ever Be both again?)"

It wasn't that he was exactly dreading the weekend, Harry told himself as he rounded the corner, nearing the flat he'd shared with Ron for three years now. It was simply that he felt a sense of anticipation he couldn't quite pin down.

The third bedroom had been occupied by a variety of their friends and Ron's family. Sirius had been the first occupant, and it had seemed natural to move in there after their graduation from Hogwarts. Sirius had remarked that the classic "bachelor pad" wasn't what his parents had in mind when they named him Harry's godfather. After things had finally calmed down after the final three years he'd been in school, Harry was just grateful he, Sirius and Ron were alive to share any dwelling.

Sirius hadn't remained there long though, in fact, no one had. It had become something of a joke with an undertone of truth, "Move into Harry and Ron's third bedroom, and expect to be married within a year" One by one their friends and family had moved out, either to marry, share a flat with their partner, or simply to move closer together.

Meanwhile, he and Ron had, for the most part, stayed fairly unattached. Both had spent time with many females but their work, while bringing them in contact with new people constantly, didn't exactly encourage longterm love and devotion. Not knowing where or, due to frequent need for polyjuice potion, who you'd be from week to week just didn't inspire closeness.

There was only one person he thought could understand, and not let romance and work interfere with each other, Harry thought, and she'd be here within a few hours. Harry wasn't even conscious of the quickening of his step, or the way his entire face had changed to a smile

When he got to the top step of the flight leading to their flat, Harry could hear the usual strains of the music Ron played nearly constantly, when he was home. It had probably been one of the few disagreements the two had faced. Ron liked a constant sound, and Harry knew it came from growing up around a large family, and never really having the choice about what he was able to listen to.

Harry, on the other hand, had spent so much time in his pre-Hogwarts years locked in his cupboard. He'd been relieved to have the company of those who liked him at school, but looking back, he could see he'd sought solitude and quiet more often than he'd realized at the time. Part of this was to get away from Ron and Hermione's constant bickering, though there had been many times he and Hermione had shared quiet walks around the lake, when little was said. There just hadn't been a reason to talk, she knew what was in his mind, and he had flattered himself to think he'd known what was in hers.

Pushing the door open, he found Ron, stacking books, and music cases on a table, while a tray held several stacks of plates, cups and glasses. Ron had a close to frantic look on his face, and Harry thought he knew why.

"Did it again? Spent the first part of your day off eating and the rest sleeping? " His eyes trailed around the room, seeing pillows piled on the floor and several of Molly Weasley's hand knitted afghans draped over corners of chairs.the smirk that hadn't changed since they'd met on the train as eleven year olds.

"Remember Katelynn? Worked with us a few years ago? She's back in town, dropped by, and we, er, enjoyed getting reacquainted." Ron looked cautiously under one of the afghans, and looked relieved to find nothing there.

Harry couldn't help wondering what he'd expected to find.. Some article of lingerie worthy of Victoria's Secrets, he reckoned. He put on a mock disgusted look, and said, "and here we have real company coming and you know what a stickler for the rules she is!"

"Yeah, riiiiight!" Ron chortled, almost dropping the loaded tray. "We have no idea what she'll be dragging along with her! "

Harry laughed too, but he knew Ron was right.

Hermione, after finishing at Hogwarts, had been unable to decide on a career, since she'd had nearly a wide open field, due to her consistently superlative academic record. She'd always had an interest in the medical field, but said it just didn't allow her time to pursue some of the causes she'd taken up over the years. So, she'd wound up as a sort of gypsy, traveling from spot to spot, using her healing powers, and her passion for the hurt and helpless, to bring some happiness.

Surprsingingly enough, she'd also become less of a know it all in the process. After seeing so much suffering, impatience had given way to compassion. It had been a year since Hermione visited, and he and Ron still joked about the menagerie she'd brought along.

She'd been accompanied by a set of orphaned two year old twins, Jamie and Hunter, who were as different as night and day except for one thing. Neither of the boys slept regularly, and when they did, it was at opposite times. This hadn't left much time for Hermione to sleep, and he and Ron had attempted to give her a break while she visited.

Their flat hadn't gotten back to any semblance of normalcy for months, and though everyone loved the boys, Hermione's relief tinged happiness was shared by all when they were adopted by a couple in California. Of course, there had also been the assorted animals she'd brought along, and the kneazel, Pumpkin, who had become so attached to Harry still slept at the foot of his bed each night. Ron complained that it was as bad as having Crookshanks around, but Harry knew he secretly enjoyed having the little creature, who made them think of Hermione, with them.

An hour later, the flat looked presentable, ("It probably won't last," remarked Ron cynically. "She'll come in here with a clabbert or something and all the curtains and lights will come crashing down when it begins swinging from them."), pillows were fluffed, flowers were on the tables, and Ron had "accio'd" a stew from the Burrow, It bubbled cheerfully on the stove, and Ron had finally allowed Harry to change the music to something that would allow conversation.

"You act as if this is someone we don't know, Harry," Ron teased. "It's only Hermione, remember, the one who's never missed a chance to tell us what to do, or what we were doing wrong. You act as if some old flame was coming to visit. Sure there's nothing you need to tell me? A secret meeting someplace since she was last here?"

Although Harry brushed Ron aside with a laugh, he had to admit to himself that Hermione had been in his thoughts more than he'd have cared to admit publicly. There were times when an image of her, playing with the twins, curls flying and her voice ringing with laughter, came into his mind, and stayed there, no matter what he did to banish it.

He also remembered how tenderly she had comforted the twins when nightmares had woken them, and he couldn't entirely rid himself of a wish that he could wake up from a nightmare, and find her there. Since Voldemort's defeat, there had been no more waking with pain in his scar, but the memories that had come along with that defeat were far from pleasant.

Ron and Harry were both in the kitchen, searching the refrigerator and pantry for goodies to supplement Molly's stew, when they heard a door slam, footsteps running up the steps, and an excited voice. "No one here to greet me? What kind of best friends are you?"

Harry later was not sure he'd been closer to the door, or had moved in front of Ron, but he was the first one out into the living room, and before he knew it, he was twirling Hermione in a circle, before setting her back on her feet, and stepping back to grin delightedly as Ron took his place and did the same.

This was definitely the Hermione he remembered, and the flying curls were even longer, shinier and more tangled than he remembered. Her face was glowing with the unabashed joy at seeing them that he'd always loved. You always knew where you stood with Hermione, she didn't seeem to have made the acquaintance of the subterfuge so many seemed to thrive on.

"Wow, Hermione, where have you been?" Ron asked as his eyes traveled over her. On a closer look, Harry could see why. Conservative dress had always been something they took for granted in Hermione, but today, she seemed to have thrown out all her old manner of dress.

Under a ratty old cloak, she wore a blouse that looked as if it had been made by sewing together a number of bright red bandanas, and when she took off the cloak, the blouse rode almost dangerously low on her shoulders.With it, she wore a blue skirt that looked as if it could have been made from several pairs of jeans, and it was all held together around her slender waist with something that might have been a belt, but ended in a trail of small feathers, dangling down her side. A pair of dragonhide boots finished the outfit, and Harry thought he wouldn't have been surprised to seee a small dagger in her boot.

"I was in Romania for the last eight months, and you know, I resisted wearing these clothes at first. But I gave in, at first so I wouldn't stand out in the crowd so badly in slacks and a sweater." She looked down at her skirt, and grabbed the feathered belt, twirling it playfully. "I found it's....well, it's fun to dress this way. After all these years as conservative Hermione. But don't worry, I apparated here, no one saw me. I can get back to the "old" Hermione, just as quickly."

"You don't really have to, you know," Harry told her, grabbing the feathered belt, and flipping it around her."I don't think I've seen those shoulders, looking that way since the last Yule Ball." He couldn't entirely contain the thought that he'd probably never seen those shoulders looking quite so tanned and silky. "At least come and have some supper first."

Ron, he noticed, seemed not to be able to decide where to look most. He was giving Harry a knowing smirk, but was also looking at Hermione as if he'd like to take a bite from her.

Harry could see why Ron was looking at Hermione the way he was, but it didn't make him feel especially happy. Before anyone had a chance to say anything though, Hermione's pile of luggage started quivering. A high pitched sound sound came out, followed by a twittering sound of wings.

"What have you brought this time, Hermione?" Ron asked with a resigned sigh. "At least it isn't that loud or large, and apparently it can't escape and fly around without some help."

Hermione went over to her luggage and uncovered a large and glittering cage. Inside Harry could see two things-one a bright, almost golden yellow, and the other a blur of blues and purple. "Hermione, that isn't a snidget? Where'd you get it, and isn't it illegal to have them?" He'd always wanted to see a snidget, since first reading about them in Quidditch Through the Ages, but snidget sanctuaries were protected with some strong wards, and especially from anyone known to play Quidditch. Hermione carrying an illegal snidget?

"They are, of course, but this is one reason I'm here, to deliver this to one of the sanctuaries. The population has increased more in Romania, and they've donated this one to England. The fairy is here to keep it company and give it some protection." She put the cage on a table and made some chirping sounds to it. The fairy immediately came over and batted at her face through the bars of the cage. "Oh, those little things can be so annoying! I'll have to let them out for exercise sometime though."

Ron was now looking at the little bird with interest, and Harry wasn't surprised when he began trying to persuade Hermione to let the snidget out, but leave the fairy in the cage. "We've got the perfect chance to see how things used to be... think of it as history come to life, Hermione! It'll be something to tell your kids about." For some reason, Harry felt his eyes meet Hermione's, but they both looked away just as quickly, so he wasn't even sure it hadn't been an accident.

She was not falling for Ron's pleas, Harry was happy to see. It was comforting to see some things hadn't changed. Hermione might look like a carefree gypsy, but a lot of the conversation at dinner revolved around work. None of them had ever expected their jobs to be risk free, but they'd all learned to find any humor they could, even in the most deadly situation. He could tell Hermione had seen some heartbreaking scenes in her travels, but she hadn't become bitter, and he could see why she'd gained the reputation for giving some of the best fund raising speeches in modern wizarding history.

"I was hoping the two of you would come with me, to deliver this snidget. We haven't had a holiday together in years, have we?" Hermione looked appealingly from one of them to the other. "Besides being a snidget sanctuary, there are augeries, diricawls and fwoopers. I even heard there were mooncalves there, although that hasn't been confirmed publicly."

Hermione always managed to look so serious, as if what he and Ron did, or didn't do mattered more than anything else in the world. He'd almost forgotten how good that felt, as he listened to them bicker cheerfully. Ron teased Hermione about being the only person in the world who would consider a spot inhabited by a bunch of annoyingly noisy birds a good prospect for a holiday. She, as usual, teased right back, about Ron's lack of intellectual curiosity. To his own surprise, he heard himself interrupt them, saying, "I'll come along. I'm due a few days off and I haven't made any plans."

Hermione and Ron turned to him in surprise, their mouths open and eyes wide with surprise. He felt a sudden nervous feeling in his stomach, and wondered whether Hermione had even been serious in asking them to come along. Or could she have been asking only Ron, and just included him, because he was sitting there? He was about to tell them he'd only been joking when he saw Hermione's lips curl into the sweetest smile he had ever seen, and there was a glow in her eyes he'd never seen. What could this mean?

Hermione quickly turned the subject to the practical matters of the trip-when they'd leave, what they'd need to bring along and how long Harry could be away from work. Ron had a look on his face that Harry, for all the years he and Ron had been best friends, found indecipherable.Hermione was perfectly happy and didn't tease Ron any further about coming along. Maybe she was using some sort of reverse psychology thing, although that seemed very un-Hermione-like.

Maybe neither he or Ron knew Hermione as well as they'd thought they did.

After watching all the spells of clearing up supper being carried out, the three friends went back into the living room, where Hermione insisted Ron check all the windows, and Harry block the fireplace, so she could let out her little charges for their exercise. At first everything was fairly peaceful, and they watched with interested as the snidget whirled and spun, using its wings that could change directions in an instant.. The fairy seemed content to play games of chase with the snidget, and the only disadvantage was that she left clouds of sparkling dust behind her, and these settled on tables and chairs in glittering heaps.

Ron complained that this was going to make dusting horrible, but since they'd never even seen Ron dust anything, at least since leaving the Burrow, Harry and Hermione weren't especially sympathetic. In fact, Harry thought the small piles of multicolored sparkles brightened the place unbelievably. Or maybe it was just having Hermione there. Finally they began to try to capture the tiny bird and the fairy, since all three were yawning, but the two fliers had other ideas. Harry was on the verge of thinking he'd have to use a real Quidditch maneuver, when Hermione pulled out a large and almost transparent scarf, which she used to capture the bird unharmed.

This seemed to enrage the tiny fairy, and she began pulling at Hermione wherever she could. Her long curly tangles were pulled in all directions, and the fairy created a small whirlwind that blew her somewhat strange skirt up around her legs. Hermione wasn't being hurt, Harry could tell, because she was laughing as she attempted to pull away from the fairy and push her skirt back down. He knew he should go help her, but the sight of those legs somehow seemed to keep him rooted to the spot he was in. Hermione was a pretty girl, he'd always thought so, even when no one else did, but somehow, that had never been the main thing he thought of. Now, here he was, a twenty year old wizard, reacting like a fifteen year old.

Ron wasn't having the same problem, he could tell. Their friend sat there with a satisfied smirk on his face. Harry wasn't sure the smirk came from the sight of Hermione's lower extremities becoming more and more visible, or the fact that she'd finally run into something she couldn't control. It didn't matter though, Harry didn't much care for either reason, and discovered he had yet another new emotion when it came to Hermione. It was some combination of jealousy and the desire to keep anyone else's eyes off her.It wasn't exactly a noble feeling though.

Harry finally found his feet could, indeed, move after all, and he leapt across the room, taking the scarf wrapped snidget from Hermione, releasing it into the cage, and beginning to use it the same way with the fairy.The fairy wasn't about to cooperate, and by the time Harry had her enveloped in Hermione's rainbow colored transparent scarf, they were in a laughing heap on the rug, and the fairy was buzzing angrily.They were both liberally sprinkled with the glittery dust, and Harry noticed Ron's eyes were still interestedly fixed on Hermione's legs, and the shoulders that were even more exposed now.

Hermione didn't seem to notice this, however. She was too busy trying to catch her breath, laughing and pointing to him. Harry looked down and saw that the fairy had done her work on him as well. His once fairly unrumpled shirt was unbuttoned, except one button in the center. One leg of his khaki pants was turned up to his knee, and both shoes were untied. He had no idea where his glasses were, and didn't even want to think about his hair. He struggled to his feet and put the fairy in the cage, not really wanting to turn around to see Ron's smirk again.

Before he had a chance to think further, he felt Hermione's arms go around him, and she hugged him tightly. "Oh, it feels so good to be back where I belong, with my best friends!" she cried, and he managed to turn and return her hug, before she broke loose. "If neither of you minds, I'm going to have a quick shower, before bed."

Harry and Ron both nodded, and Hermione snatched up one of her bags, dropped a quick kiss on the top of Ron's head as she passed, and disappeared to the bedrooms and baths. Neither of them seemed to quite know what to say, until Harry broke the silence.

"Well, I guess you could say she's back!"

______________________

It had been amazingly simple to start on their trip, Harry thought, as he leaned back and surveyed the road ahead of him. Ron had been sleeping when Hermione came in to wake him up. She'd wanted to get an early start, before the traffic in London, and on the roads out of the city became clogged with traffic. They both knew Ron liked having a late morning in bed, so they quietly gathered their bags, and Hermione managed to bribe the fairy to be quiet.

He couldn't help thinking back on the way she'd looked when she woke him though. Hermione had never been one of those girls who woke up looking perfect, as if she slept in makeup and earrings, and he was relieved to see that hadn't changed. Her hair was bundled into two thick braids and she still looked half asleep.His eyes had widened when he saw what she'd been sleeping in.. one of his own old T-shirts! Now faded, the "property of Gryffindor Quidditch" looked pink, and the gold had faded to a yellowish beige. She looked a little embarrassed when he noticed, but only said, " I picked this up long ago, and forgot to return it. Want it back now?"

As much as he was tempted to say, "Yes, right this minute!", Harry contented himself with whispering, "No, but I don't mind that it's shrunk a bit and become sort of thin in places!" and was rewarded with several pillows being bounced rather forcefully into his face. By the time he'd recovered, Hermione had left, but even now, driving along as she read from Snidget Sanctuaries of the World, the memory of a cute and messy "morning Hermione" kept him entertained.

"I hope this will be okay, Harry. It's not going to be a luxury vacation, you know? They believe you should take part in the activities of the community, so we'll have a busy few days." She turned to look closely at him, then nodded. "You'll do well though. I'm glad to see you're the same Harry I remember. If I'd come back here, and found you'd joined some wizard's fitness program, and were bursting with muscles....or traded your glasses for contacts! I think, I'd never have mentioned this trip.Ugh, the idea!"

This was interesting, Harry thought. He'd never thought Hermione really noticed his appearance, other than to remind him he could use a haircut, or a few times when they'd gone shopping for clothes together.Neither of them tended to keep up with the latest fashions, and it was easier to face the shop employees together, warding off pleas to update their wardrobes with things neither of them could imagine wearing..He did venture to comment, "You're looking rather fit yourself. Nice little shirt thingie, too." and saw a pleased look cross her face, though she merely smiled and went back to her book, reading aloud a list of activities and chores to be completed over a day. Hermione had not gotten back into clothes as colorful as the blouse and skirt she'd worn the previous evening, but she looked very pretty, and softer than he'd seen her dress in the past. Instead of jeans or khakis, she wore some soft knit pants and her sleeveless tunic had markings that resembled ancient runes. He couldn't help thinking she looked, well, huggable, as if she'd be soft and warm to the touch, and wouldn't mind being a bit rumpled.

Here he was, acting fifteen instead of twenty-one. Again. Harry shook himself mentally, and began discussing the rustic life of the Snidget Sanctuary, where, he was sure, cold showers were easy to find!

After lunch at an inn, where they were able to engage a private parlor to let the fairy and snidget out for a bit of exercise, Hermione was directing him down a road that had taken both of their wands and several "Point me!" spells to find. The trees around them were huge and ancient, and no sound could be heard, other than an occasional buzz and whirring.. Obviously they were in the correct spot, because the snidget and fairy had become visibly impatient. Harry planned to stand as far away from the cage, when it was opened, as possible. He could tell this particular fairy and snidget had bonded rather heavily, and there was no way of knowing what they'd do with freedom.

They arrived at a circular cleared spot, but at first, Harry could see no buildings. He looked at Hermione, and lifted his eyebrows questioningly. She grinned and replied softly, "Think I've brought you on a pointless trip? No, look closely. Look at those hedgerows over there, for instance."

Harry did look more closely and as he stared, small panes of glass came into focus and he could see a chimney pot here and there, peeking out above the greenery. Then strangest of all, a door was right in front of them. and a group of fairly small .people appeared, coming out of the door and peeking through the windows. They weren't dwarves, they weren't goblins, but they certainly weren't people like himself and Hermione. One of the smallest of the group, a woman Harry judged to be around fifty, came forward to welcome them. He was relieved to be given almost no attention, everyone's interest semed centered on Hermione and the little creatures in the cage. She was explaining exactly how she had come to have the snidget in her care, and it was plain to see the group found a great deal to admire in Hermione. And why not, he completely agreed with them, he realized.

A wagon with several seats along its sides appeared in front of them and he, Hermione and several of the group climbed aboard. The wagon was apparently powered in the same way the horseless carriages had been at Hogwarts and Hogsmeade. With a jolt, they started off, and Harry and Hermione instinctively grabbed each other's arms, and since she showed no sign of turning loose, he didn't either.

It only took a quarter of an hour to release the snidget and the fairy, and to watch from a clump of high shrubbery, as more fairies and snidgets appeared and the fairy and the new snidget quickly became caught up in the chatter. Hermione was leaning against him and he found his arms tightened around her subconsciously as she gave a loud sniff when the faiiy and snidget groups flew off.

"I know it's silly, but I'll miss the little nuisances!" she said sheepishly. "Even though the fairy tied my braids together once and I thought I'd have to cut them off, she wasn't really bad." She hid her head against his chest and Harry wasn't sure, but thought she might be crying, since her shoulders were shaking. This was alarming, what was wrong with Hermione, normally she didn't cry about much.

"Um, 'Mione, you okay? I mean, we will still see them for a few days, and these people sem friendly, especially to you. You can visit again, I'm sure!" He gave her a hard hug, which she returned with an even more vigorous one. When she lifted her head Harry saw, to his relief, there were tears, but Hermione was shaking with laughter.

" I... I'm sorry," she gasped. "The way we must have looked the other night, lying on the floor, popped into my head! Even though he'd be sure to use it against us, I almost wish Ron had taken a picture!"

"He was checking you out well enough not to need a camera," Harry heard himself say, sounding snappishly childish, even to himself. He quickly added, "It's only natural I suppose, Ron's never been one to miss studying a nice pair of legs." .

Harry knew he'd said the wrong thing, as soon as he felt Hermione stiffen in his arms. Her voice, when she moved away from him, was just as stiff, with a definite chill.

"Thanks," she said flatly. "Lovely to know I'm just the latest pair of bare legs to grace the floor of the Potter/Weasley establishment. Too bad I didn't make the "album." isn't it?"

Harry's mouth opened and closed several times, but before he could make any sensible words come out, the woman who'd spoken to them first had reappeared, and Hermione moved forward to join her. Harry was left to bring up the rear, cursing himself for saying the first thing that popped into his head. And was Hermione upset about what he'd said because it was so obviously a sexist remark, or because the idea of Ron looking at other legs bothered her. And that bothered him immensely.

All in all, Harry hadn't been as confused as he had been the year of the first Yule Ball they'd attended..At fourteen, he now realized, that was normal. He couldn't help wondering dazedly whether Hermione had tossed some sort of emotional time turner over him.

_______________________________

Hermione hadn't been kidding when she'd told him not to expect a relaxing few days, Harry thought as he lifted the basket of apples onto his shoulder. They'd been out in the orchard all morning, moving from tree to tree. He couldn't remember ever seeing so many apples all in one place before. Apparently the people and their herd of mooncalves, used apples in some form at every meal!

Hermione was still perched on a ladder, pulling apples off a tree and dropping them into a bag over her shoulder when he came back from emptying the basket into a wagon loaded with other apples. She was awfully pretty up there among the apples, he thought. Her cheeks were pink from the sun and the stretching and climbing she'd been doing constantly for several hours, and her hair had long ago come loose from the braid that had been so neat that morning. He couldn't help but notice how gracefully she moved when she stretched out to get an apple that was almost beyond her reach.

"We can have our picnic in a minute, Harry," she called to him."Do you want to get it from the wagon while I get this last..."she stretched a bit further, and Harry's eyes widened. ".......really perfect ap....."

'All right!' Harry thought, "Am I making this happen?' His arms flew out and Hermione fell right into them, looking a bit startled, but not the least bit unhappy to find herself in Harry's arms. Quite a surprise, since she'd been quite short with him since the previous afternoon.

"I could make a remark about catching the sweetest fruit without having to climb, but I suppose you'd slap me," Harry said, forcing his voice to sound light. He wondered whether Hermione could hear his heart, beating unusually loud in his ears.

"You could put me down too, but I don't see any signs of you doing it," she retorted. "But no, I don't generally go around slapping people who save me from a nasty fall, even if they are being just a bit cheeky.I think the hero deserves a kiss, more than a slap."

To his amazement, instead of the kiss on the cheek he'd expected, Harry felt Hermione's lips touch his, and he felt a distinct but involuntary shiver go through him. It wasn't a long and passionate kiss, but somehow when they drew apart, Harry knew he had the same slightly confused grin on his face that she had.

Hermione slid from his arms, but hooked her arm through his as they walked toward the wagon to retrieve their lunch. Something was definitely happening here, Harry thought. Hermione was his best friend but somehow, their lips and arms seemed to fit perfectly. They'd walked together so many times, in so many places, that their steps automatically matched. Nothing they talked about was very important, as they unpacked the picnic basket under a willow tree whose branches made a curtain of shade from the sun and from the rest of the orchard.They munched their way through several kinds of sandwiches, along with olives, cheese and fruit.

"Oh, you don't know how I've missed pumpkin juice!" Hermione exclaimed, pouring another goblet. "Living in Romania,. all I ever got was wine and milk. The water wasn't always good to drink, and I think I was slightly tipsy the first three months or so.Or bit everyone's head off!" Harry couldn't help thinking of the way Hermione had bitten his head off the say before and before he knew it, heard himself ask .......

"Is that what happened yesterday? A flashback to the wine days?" Harry knew he was taking a chance, bringing up their words to each other the day before, but it had seemed so unlike her. Hermione looked a bit uncomfortable, but then she sighed.

"I did snap at you didn't I? I'm sorry, hormonal, overly emotional female here; don't know what came over me!"

Harry sat silently for a moment, but then decided to plunge in. He wasn't an expert on emotional females, but funny things were happening. Some of them were very nice, and he wasn't going to let any discomfort lie there. "You were angry or annoyed or something. I know it was a stupid thing to say, but Hermione! It's not exactly the first time I've made some stupid, tactless remark. Besides, Ron and I have been appreciating your legs for years. If we did have a "book of legs", yours would be on page one."

To Harry's relief, Hermione grinned as she answered, "Nice try, Potter, but I have a memory you know. If I were on page one of any book you and Ron shared, it would be the book of mouths! I know how obnoxious I was!" She sat up very straight and said in a voice whose tone took him back over the years. "You're Harry Potter! I've read all about you! And by the way, you've got a smudge on your face. Right.....there!" Hermione reached over and touched his chin. When she did, Harry felt something sticky slide across his chin. He and Hermoine had been sharing a large, tart green apple that he'd sliced. He hadn't noticed, but Hermione had begun dipping her slices into a pot of caramel syrup. He picked up a slice of apple and dipped it into the syrup, keeping his eyes on Hermione's face.

"That apple picking was rough work! D'you know, I believe you've got a smudge too! Right... there!" Harry traced a small area on Hermione's jawline that he'd been trying to ignore earlier. This looked just too promising, and he couldn't ignore something that seemed so right. He popped the apple into his mouth, chewed a bit then said, "Mmmm, .I'd forgotten how much I love caramel. Think I'd go most anyplace for a taste of it!" Quickly, before he could ask himself whether this was a good idea, Harry leaned forward, and gave Hermione's perfect jawline something that was half kiss and half nibble. He felt as well as heard her sigh as she moved her face slightly to find the smudge of caramel across his chin. Their lips naturally met again, but this time the kiss deepened and intensified. and lasted so long they were both nearly breathless when Hermione broke the kiss.

"Harry... remember, this is me, bossy Hermione. Are you sure this is what you want? Shouldn't you stop and thinkof what you're doing?"

But Harry only pulled her back into his arms and whispered, "I've been thinking. Consciously, subconsciously, whatever you want to call it, nearly all I've thought of for months is you. Not the bossy, brilliant Granger who always has the answers. This one, all soft lips, eyes I could fall into and stay for years. A neck that tastes like the sweetest fruit imaginable and hair that's a cloud from heaven. And I have some strong sensations that tell me Utopia is waiting if I drop below your collarbone."

With one finger, he traced a line from her forehead, where her hair sprung back in tiny curls, down her cheek and neck to the base of her neck, where he traced a small circle and placed a kiss before lifting his head to look at her. "I'm in love with you, Hermione. I'm not the quickest guy in the world to figure out my own feelings, but I do know that. It happened a long time ago, and I'm tired of denying what I know will make me happier than I have a right to be. Will you let me try to make you happier than you've ever been?"

Hermione's answer to this was a little startling, but Harry didn't think he'd ever forget the look of joy on Hermione's face while she listened to him, but her only words were, "You've only barely begun to find out what happy means, Harry Potter!" before their kisses began again and thoughts of remaining in a sitting position disappeared for the rest of the afternoon. Later, Harry was amazed that he'd had the willpower to stop for a moment, to produce his wand and call out a curtaining spell, before he went in search of the previously mentioned paradise.

The caramel dip was neither forgotten nor wasted. At the end of the afternoon Harry and Hermione promised each other that apple season would always be stickily celebrated in the same way. A very lucky witch and wizard had decided to take the ultimate risk, and had discovered that best friends also make the best lovers. Neither had any delusions that life would be problem free, but each knew that together, they'd offered and accepted a love that would last a lifetime and more.