Four Weddings & A Funeral

Harry stirred and automatically reached out for Hermione...only to have panic assail him as his hands met an empty expanse of sheet and he realised with a start she wasn't there. His eyes snapped open as he sat bolt upright, the fear draining away as he remembered where he was and why: he was once again in Ron's room at the Burrow and he was here because it was finally the fourteenth of September: Ginny and Dean's wedding day. As for the fear - it was something he'd learnt to live with; it was three weeks since they'd spoken to Dumbledore and every day of those three weeks he'd had to live with the ever-present dread of something unknown happening, at an unknown time and place, to Hermione. The same question had become his first waking thought each morning: Was today the day? He and Dumbledore had put Anti-Apparation/Disapparation Spells around Hermione's office, their home and here at the Burrow to ensure she wouldn't be able to be kidnapped in the same manner employed by Jugson and Mulciber. He and Hermione had come to an agreement that they wouldn't let the possibility she was a target cloud their lives and while Hermione appeared to have put it from her mind, Harry, each day, had to suppress his fears, something he did purely for Hermione's sake. He did this now, knowing she wouldn't be alone today, that there would be someone with her every minute she wasn't with him.

As he pushed away his worry over Hermione and replaced it with thoughts of the day ahead, he lay down again. Stretching his arms up, put his hands behind his head and sighed, a sigh of resignation at the lack of Hermione beside him - he really didn't like this business of waking up alone. As his thoughts moved on to Ginny and Dean, he couldn't help but smile, knowing what a wonderful day this would be for them. After everything they'd been through, they were finally going to get married. His thoughts, however, inevitably returned to Hermione (as they always did) and in particular his memory of their conversation the previous evening...

Hermione sighed as they sat together on the old, carved, wooden bench where she had so happily accepted Harry's proposal to her just over two months ago. The September night air was crisp but neither seemed to notice.

'Is that a good sigh or a bad sigh?' asked Harry.

Hermione smiled up at him as she replied, 'An in-between sort of sigh.'

Harry raised his eyebrows inquiringly.

'The last three weeks have just been so busy with getting ready for the wedding tomorrow I haven't really had time to think about ... well, you know, that wretched charm business and what Dumbledore told us about - which is good - and the fact that everything has gone so well for the wedding tomorrow is also good but...'

'But?' prompted Harry when she hesitated.

Hermione put her head on his shoulder as she wrapped her arms around his waist.

'But now - now I'm thinking about it and I'm so worried something's going to happen tomorrow to spoil it for Dean and Ginny.'

Luckily Hermione, with her head tucked in the crook of Harry's neck, didn't see the frightening expression on Harry's face or the hardening of his eyes at her words; while she was concerned about Ginny and Dean, Harry was thinking about HER and what he'd do to anyone who attempted to so much as THINK about hurting her in any way, wedding or no wedding...

'I'll be there, Hermione,' whispered Harry, his voice roughened by the strength of his emotions. 'Nothing will happen' - to you, he added to himself, promising her silently, not tomorrow, not ever.

Harry gently placed his fingers under her chin, tilting her head up so that he could see into her eyes. 'I love you,' he whispered, then leant down and put his lips softy against hers. Hermione's arms immediately tightened around him in response and she pressed her mouth harder against his, thinking that she would never tire of this - the feeling of his mouth on hers, the masculine hardness of his body, the gentleness of his hand cupping her face - she loved kissing him. Harry on the other hand was painfully aware of how soft and inviting her curves were - he wanted desperately to lose himself in the scent of her hair, the feel of her skin, the sound of her sighs, the feel of her arms around him and her body against his...

***** ***** ***** ***** ***** ***** ***** *****

Harry groaned. Great, just great. I had to go and think about that. Bloody terrific. One cold shower coming up. Dammit. Warm Hermione would be far preferable to cold water...

He became aware of the sound of muffled snores emanating from the mound-that-was-Ron in the bed across the room under the window. His "feed-me" alarm will be going off soon, thought Harry with amusement, swinging his legs round and deciding he may as well get up and get showered now before the breakfast stampede began in earnest.

***** ***** ***** ***** ***** ***** ***** *****

Ginny woke slowly, the realisation that this was her wedding day making her smile as she opened her eyes to the soft sunshine streaming through her window.

Perfect weather for a perfect day, she thought. Then she remembered the damned dream she'd had that had woken her in the middle of the night...

The beautiful bower that had been created for their marriage ceremony surrounded her as she floated along, smiling at the faceless guests. She held her bouquet held in her hands at her waist as she smiled at her groom, their eyes locked. As she grew closer, she blinked slowly and when her eyes opened, she saw not the sculpted lines of Dean's face, dominated by the warm brown gaze she loved, but the sharp, gaunt features of Draco Malfoy. He was smiling, his grey eyes appearing to glow with happiness as they rested on her.

Her step faltered but she was almost there and he turned, reaching out to rest his hands momentarily on her shoulders before sliding them down her arms to take her right hand in his, her left hand falling to her side, her bouquet slipping from her fingers, forgotten, as his free hand moved to her waist and pulled her to him.

Everything around them vanished then and she felt as though they were in some sort of slow free fall with his hand spread on the small of her back, pressing her against him, his voice whispering... 'Ginevra... it's been so long...I've waited so long... I want you so much...I will love you always...'

Then his lips claimed hers and as her eyes closed and her arms began the slow journey to wrap themselves around his neck, she felt herself falling faster and faster - then she woke with a start, her heart pounding, her breathing fast and shallow...

Ginny shook her head to clear the memory. At least she recognised it as being just that - a dream - not one of those horrifying nightmares brought on by those accursed roses; she knew the difference now although there was still a lingering hint of the influence of the roses which she was confident would pass in time. She thought she could understand why she'd had the dream - the worry and nerves that go hand in hand with the build up to your wedding day - but it made it no less palatable and she sure as hell wasn't going to let it cloud her day of days! She resolutely put it from her mind as her thoughts returned once more to Dean.

Mrs Thomas. Ginevra Thomas. Mrs Dean Thomas. Mrs Ginevra Thomas. Ginny Thomas.

Ginny smiled. They all sounded so good!

***** ***** ***** ***** ***** ***** ***** *****

Dean had woken before the sun came up, propping himself up against the bed-head to take in the slow transition from night to dawn and finally to day, watching the edge of light on its slow but inexorable journey across the duvet towards the floor beyond the bed. With his hands behind his head to cushion it against the wooden bed-head, he allowed his thoughts free rein, following them as they wandered here and there - but still always centred on Ginny.

My wife. Ginny Thomas. My wife! I can't wait, he thought, to hold her for the first time as my wife - my partner in life, forever more...

Oh, how the two of them had earnt this! They deserved their happiness this day.

For a fleeting moment, a steely hardness captured his features as he acknowledged that new corner of himself - the corner that held capabilities he'd never thought he'd have or need. He would brook no interference on this day. God and Merlin both will not be able to help anyone who dares to disturb this day, of all days, he promised silently.

***** ***** ***** ***** ***** ***** ***** *****

On the floor above, Hermione, Luna and Priscilla all woke after sunrise, their contagious excitement making them laugh and giggle at the most ridiculous things. They sat cross-legged on their beds, talking about this and that, even after they heard footsteps pass their door heading downstairs followed by the unmistakeable sounds of Mrs Weasley in her kitchen, preparing breakfast.

The tempting smell of breakfast that wafted up the stairs shortly afterwards prompted Hermione to cry, 'Time to go downstairs!' as she bounded off her bed, any worries or concerns she may have entertained lost in the anticipation and joy of the day.

As the three girls skipped down the stairs, their ranks were swollen firstly by Ginny emerging from her room, then Charlie and Neville emerging from their shared room as well as Bill and Fleur, arm in arm, beaming at them all as they came onto the landing. The chattering human convoy entered the kitchen to find Harry, Ron and Dean as well as Mr Weasley and the twins already seated at the magically lengthened table, tucking into one of Mrs Weasley's hearty breakfasts.

Ron looked pointedly at his sister. 'At least this time we get a proper breakfast!' He was alluding to the morning of Ginny and Dean's engagement party when all and sundry were given (in his eyes) a meagre breakfast of tea and toast.

Ginny wrinkled her nose at him. 'You should marry your stomach Ronald Weasley!' she retorted. To Ron's disgust, Luna laughed louder than anyone.

Everyone seated themselves as Mrs Weasley busily waved her wand here and there, sending eggs off to fry themselves, bacon and sausages to sizzle and tomatoes to be grilled while the toaster kept itself busy sending cooked toast to a rack with deadly accuracy while bread sailed through the air after slicing itself and fell into the waiting toaster.

'This eez ze most delicious breakfast Mama!' announced Fleur just before placing a forkful of egg, sausage and tomato into her mouth and smiling, her eyes closed in appreciation.

'Best ever, Mum!' announced Fred.

'Better than the best!' called George.

There were murmurs of assent all around the table and Mrs Weasley beamed proudly. Today was going to be magical in every way, she thought to herself.

'A toast!' cried Charlie, jumping to his feet, a full glass of pumpkin juice in hand. 'Here's to a wonderful day, especially for Ginny and Dean, and here's to a wonderful start to the day - Mum's breakfast!'

Amid laughter, there were the soft clinking sounds of glasses being touched together and choruses of "hear, hear!"

***** ***** ***** ***** ***** ***** ***** *****

The morning passed in a happy haze of fun and chaos. Dean's parents, his brothers and sisters and their assorted wives and husbands arrived for an early lunch with the Weasleys and the others in the bridal party. Mrs Weasley had consented to having caterers in to serve that meal, as well as the sumptuous afternoon tea and light evening meal being served after the ceremony, but it had taken quite a bit of persuading.

Hermione's parents and Priscilla's mother also arrived a little early, both mothers being allowed into the "inner sanctum" - as Luna had taken to calling Mr and Mrs Weasley's bedroom - for a brief visit with their daughters as they got ready.

Dumbledore's arrival at one o'clock seemed to mark the countdown to the ceremony he would be presiding over which was due to begin at two o'clock. As it was, he "came in rather handy" Ron told Harry and Neville while they were getting dressed.

'Mum was getting a bit frazzled about everything being ready on time and good old Dumbledore just swished and flicked and hey presto!'

'Just like magic, eh?' laughed Harry, Neville and Ron quickly joining in.

They checked each other over to make sure they were, 'Good enough to eat, mate!' as Ron succinctly put it before going down to wait in the kitchen where they were soon joined by Dean's parents and Arthur and Molly, the men looking a little resigned to spending the afternoon in suits under their robes (Dean's dad not being able to bring himself to wear only robes) while the ladies looked very pleased with themselves. Everyone else was waiting outside and helping to look after the guests as they arrived, showing them to their seats.

The last to come down - besides the bride and groom themselves - were Hermione, Luna and Priscilla. Harry, Ron and Neville had no idea they each had an identical expression of dumb-struck wonder on their faces (much to the great amusement of the others present) as they each watched their lady descend the stairs. The girls all wore long flowing dresses of softest mint-green that seemed to cling to them until flaring out to float around their feet; the full-length sleeves ending in long, soft tendrils of the silky material while the wide, deep, rounded neckline revealed just the right amount of milky cleavage. All three had their long hair in soft curls that fell down their back, the silver thread amongst the long tresses seeming to fall from a delicate circlet around their heads which sat across their foreheads, dancing with reflected light. They each carried half a dozen long stemmed orchids that had been charmed to appear silver, the same colour as the strands of ribbon tying them together.

As Priscilla reached the last step, Neville stepped up and offered her his arm, gazing down at her with adoration obvious in his eyes.

Luna took Ron's arm next and smiled up at him, loving the fact that he seemed to have been robbed of the power of speech simply by her appearance.

Harry took Hermione's free hand in his as she stepped off the last stair and brought it to his lips, holding it there, the intensity of his green gaze, filled with love, admiration and desire, causing her breath to catch in her throat.

'You look breathtaking beyond words and I love you,' he murmured for her ears alone.

'Come along, now!' said Mrs Weasley briskly as she bustled everyone outside save for her husband, Harry and the three bridesmaids. 'Now, Harry, you go up and get Dean you can both go take your places.'

Harry reluctantly let go of Hermione's hand before taking the stairs two at a time, he and a beaming Dean emerging together from Dean's room almost immediately after Harry had knocked and entered. Hermione sighed and smiled at Harry as he made his way down the stairs, thinking to herself how handsome and sexy he looked. Dean shook hands with his pending father-in-law, gave his teary-eyed soon-to-be mother-in-law an affectionate hug, then winked at the three girls and told them they looked adorable as he and Harry headed outside. 'See you soon!' he called as they disappeared through the stone archway that had been magically created in the wall of the house for the occasion.

Mrs Weasley then made her way upstairs to her bedroom where she and the three bridesmaids had helped her daughter get ready. She opened the door to see Ginny standing at the window, looking down at the scene in the garden, a dreamy smile on her face.

'It's time,' said Molly softly, surreptitiously wiping the corner of her eye.

Ginny turned and walked towards her mother, bending to pick up her bouquet of silver and white orchids from the end of the bed.

'You look perfect,' sighed Molly. Ginny's dress was similar in style to her attendants' - the same long sleeves, rounded neckline and fit, flaring at her feet - although a little fuller and more elaborate with a short train. Delicate silver embroidery meandered over the whole dress becoming rather more intricate around the neckline, hem and sleeves. She wore a very fine silver and diamond necklace with matching earrings and small tiara that held the gossamer veil, as long as her hair, charmed to float softly around her head and shoulders, silver highlights sparkling amongst its fine threads. Her long red hair had been softly curled and hung luxuriantly down her back.

Ginny hugged her mother joyfully. "Oh, Mummy, I can't believe it's finally happening! I've never felt so happy!'

Holding her daughter at arm's length, Molly smiled, holding back her tears. 'And that's as it should be! I'm so proud of you, Ginny - and so's your father. Now come on, darling, let's go!'

A beautiful bower had been created for the occasion, among the flowers covering it were English poppies, dahlias and snapdragons in all shades abounding while the beautiful, heady fragrance of sweet pea filled the air. The bower was big enough for all the guests to sit under (except Hagrid, who happily stood to one side) and at the head of the aisle stood Albus Dumbledore, resplendent in his favourite purple robe covered in silver stars and moons, beaming happily at all and sundry as they waited for the bride's arrival.

Dean stood, looking expectantly at the stone arch as he waited. Harry, beside him, did the same, along with Ron and Neville. Hedwig, Pig and Errol were perched in a nearby tree, Crookshanks stretched out on the branch below them.

A sudden hush seemed to settle over all and as Dumbledore deftly waved his hand, the strains of the Bridal Waltz, familiar to both the Wizarding and Muggle worlds alike, filled the air. Molly and Arthur appeared, their happy countenances bringing smiles to the guests' faces. Once they reached the bower, they moved to their seat at the front and turned to watch with everyone else as Priscilla stepped through the archway, looking a little overwhelmed at being there, but managing to smile as she walked along the white stone pathway magically laid just for this occasion. When she reached the shelter of the bower, Luna stepped through the arch and followed in her footsteps. As Luna reached the bower, Priscilla stopped at the front and after giving Neville a glowing smile, moved aside. Harry was tense, waiting for Hermione to appear and when she did, he couldn't help but grin, watching her every step, catching her eye as she reached the edge of the bower and giving her such a look that a faint blush crept into her cheeks, making her look even more beautiful to him. At that point, all eyes but Harry's left Hermione and moved back to the archway because Ginny had appeared, her head high as she immediately sought her fiancé's face in the sea of faces confronting her.

The second their eyes met, she began to walk, slowly stepping along the pathway, the love she felt for this man curving her mouth into a beautiful smile and making her eyes glow. She neither saw nor heard anyone else until she reached his side and they turned to face each other.

The two of them felt as though they floated through the ceremony, Dumbledore's voice leading them as they repeated their vows. Only after he'd pronounced them "husband and wife" did they seem to become aware once more of the people around them. There was applause as they kissed and then they were surrounded, being hugged, congratulated and kissed by everyone.

As everyone moved away from the bower to group together for the only photograph that was traditionally taken at a Wizarding wedding, the Candle & Cauldron Catering Company moved in and expertly transformed the bower to accommodate enough round tables for the guests to be seated at with enough food and drink "for an army of Hagrids and Rons" joked George to Fred.

The next few hours were filled with a lot of fun and laughter, many congratulatory hugs and kisses and numerous spontaneous outbreaks of song, usually led by Albus Dumbledore with Fred and George alongside him. Even Percy ventured away from his mother and conversed quietly with other people.

Miraculously, there was enough food - despite the presence of Hagrid and Ron - and the traditional Aureus Lebes was filling fast.

Harry and Hermione sat with her parents, who were both intensely interested in everything around them. They'd commented on what a nice touch it was for the bride's parents to walk together down the aisle to their seat although they were curious as to why the bride's father didn't "give her away" as was often the custom with Muggles.

Hermione, of course, had read up on Wizarding customs and was able to tell them that daughters had never been thought of as not being able to care for themselves (most witches being perfectly capable of doing so) and therefore didn't need to be handed from the "care of the father" and given into the "care of the husband". Hermione's mum had nodded as her daughter spoke, commenting that, 'I guess magic really puts witches and wizards on an even footing.' Hermione, to her credit, refrained from pointing out that whilst there were was, and always had been, equality amongst witches and wizards, it hadn't been extended to other magical species, such as house elves...

'And that bowl thing - what's that for?' asked her father, pointing to the large, stone container that if he'd been familiar with them, would've reminded him of an outsized pensieve. It sat atop a stone pedestal and was almost filled to the brim with galleons.

'Well, rather than give gifts to the bridge and groom, each guest simply puts in the number of galleons they can afford and the bridge and groom can spend it on whatever they need. Its' name means "Bowl of Gold" or "Golden Bowl".'

There were no speeches as was traditional at Muggle weddings, only the bride and groom standing together and saying heartfelt thanks to everyone as they waved and blew kisses while making their way to a heart shape that had been laid out on the grass using flower petals; it was just big enough for the two of them if they stood with their arms around each other, Ginny carefully lifting her train so that it didn't disturb the outline. Both sets of parents walked up, Dean receiving a small, golden four leaf clover, Ginny a golden heart, each the size of a charm; as Dean dropped his head to kiss his bride, the Wedding Portkeys they'd just been given whipped them away to their honeymoon destination.

A happy collective sigh seemed to sweep through the guests before they went about the business of saying goodbye to each other and taking their leave. Mrs Weasley confided to her husband that she found herself at this point singularly grateful for the Candle & Cauldron Catering Company as she was able to simply walk back inside her house and put the kettle on without a single worry about the "mess" outside. Mr Weasley ensured the Aureus Lebes was safely stowed away before joining her, returning the wall that had been the stone archway back to its original state.

Neville didn't stay this night, leaving with Priscilla and her mother to accompany them home. Bill and Fleur retired early and Charlie, of course, returned to Romania. 'If I should marry my stomach, Charlie should marry a dragon,' Ron was heard to comment as Charlie took off on his broom. Fred and George had decided to stay. 'You just want another cracking breakfast!' accused Ron with a smirk.

Fred grinned as he said, 'Ickle Ronniekins isn't quite as-'

'-thick as he makes out to be,' finished George, grinning back.

Ron snorted but laughed good-naturedly at his twin brothers as he sat down on the old couch in front of the fire, Luna curling up beside him, her head on his shoulder. Harry was seated at the other end, Hermione sitting on a cushion on the floor between his knees, her head dropped slightly forward as Harry gently massaged her neck and shoulders, drawing quietly appreciative little sounds from her. Fred and George said goodnight then, taking a mug of hot chocolate each up to their room.

In the end, it was only the four of them as Mr and Mrs Weasley finished their cups of tea and happily retired for the night.

Hermione, feeling much better after Harry's ministrations, was now lying on the couch with her head in his lap. Harry's right hand was tangled in her curls, enjoying their softness, his left hand on top of her hands as they rested on her midriff. Hermione's eyes were closed, a small smile playing about her full lips. Harry gazed down at her, feeling very contented and happy and not a little grateful that everything had gone "without a hitch" today. He couldn't help but wonder what their own wedding day would be like.

'Different,' said Hermione.

'What?' said Harry, startled.

'Our wedding day, I was just thinking, it'll be a little different to today.'

Harry shook his head as if to clear it. It was uncanny how she appeared to read his thoughts at times.

'I don't doubt it,' he finally replied.

'Ours will be very different,' announced Luna suddenly.

Harry looked around to his left at Ron, his eyebrows raised.

Ron shrugged and smiled indulgently. 'Whatever makes her happy makes me happy,' he said simply.

Yeah, true, thought Harry, looking down once more at Hermione to find her smiling up at him, her eyes glowing. He smiled back, his fingers leaving her hair and lovingly caressing her face.

'By the way,' said Ron gruffly. 'I believe last time we all stayed here - for the engagement party - you lot pulled a bit of a swifty and Luna and I missed out! Not nice, y'know!' He was alluding, of course, to the night of Ginny and Dean's engagement party when Priscilla had suggested a little "room swapping" so that Dean and Ginny as well as Harry and Hermione could spend the night together, Mrs Weasley having separated them all so that the girls shared rooms and the boys shared rooms, just not with each other.

Harry couldn't help but laugh, nor could Hermione. 'Only because you'd already gone to bed - weighed down by more food than you could poke a stick at, I might add!' Harry was eventually able to say.

'Well, we could make up for that tonight, what d'you reckon?' Ron's attempt to sound offhand failed dismally.

'Oooh, I don't know that we should do that twice, Ron,' said Hermione, sounding thoughtful while her eyes were full of mischief as she looked up at Harry.

'I reckon we could get away with it once more,' said Ron a little desperately. 'Mum and Dad are really exhausted and are sure to sleep late!'

'I don't know, Ron, I just don't know,' said Harry seriously, although his eyes were full of laughter.

'They're teasing you, sweetheart,' said Luna merrily and Harry and Hermione both burst out laughing.

'Should've known!' muttered Ron, but he grinned as he said it.

Harry looked down at Hermione and the look in her eyes as her lips slowly parted, the tip of her tongue quickly moistening them, was enough to cause an immediate tightening sensation that he knew she couldn't avoid being aware of. Sure enough, Hermione's eyes momentarily widened before a slow smile lifted the corners of her mouth; then she arched her neck and undercover of stretching moved just enough so that her head was now resting up against the quickly growing hardness that was robbing Harry of his ability to think clearly.

'Well, we could risk it one more time, what do you think Harry?' asked Hermione innocently.

Harry didn't trust himself to say anything more than a rather gruff, 'Sure,' which made Hermione chuckle.

'So,' so Ron quickly, making it obvious he'd given the matter some thought, 'Luna and I'll have my room and you and Hermione have Ginny's room.'

'Sounds perfect,' said Hermione, still busy torturing Harry with very slow but firm movements of her head.

'Let's go!' said Ron enthusiastically, jumping up and pulling Luna up with him.

Waving airily at Harry and Hermione, Luna gave them a dreamy smile and let Ron lead her away.

As soon as they were out of sight, Harry began to tickle Hermione. 'You little minx!' he cried, laughing himself.

Hermione wiggled out of his grasp and slid back to the floor on her knees, facing Harry. Resting her elbows on his thighs and her chin on her clasped hands she smiled up at him. 'At least I finish what I start,' she told him, batting her eyelids and giggling again.

'You'd better!' he growled, grasping her under the arms and pulling her up to sit on his lap. Framing her face with his hands, he pulled her to him and kissed her hard, his need for her increasing by the second. Hermione could feel herself becoming so much jelly - he could do that to her so easily. She moaned softly as his hands left her face and traced every curve on her body he could reach. He leant back suddenly, his voice roughened with desire as he said, 'Let's go to bed - now!'

'Let's!' murmured Hermione desperately, surprised when Harry Apparated them to Ginny's room.

As they fell on to the bed, Hermione said between kisses, 'I didn't think - you could - Apparate - here - or under - that sort - of pressure -'

'Necessity is the mother of invention - Dumbledore -' mumbled Harry, his face buried in Hermione's hair as he began slowly kissing his way down the long line of her neck, '-lots of tricks up his sleeves -' until he reached the delicate hollow by her collarbone, '-he told me how, just in case...' then continuing until he met the rising swell of her breast, wishing her dress would get out of the way.

He fell back on his knees then, pulling Hermione into a sitting position so that he could undo her dress...except he couldn't find the zipper. Realising what he was up to, Hermione extricated herself and stood up. 'It's actually been put on with magic,' she told him and pulling her wand from a concealed pocket, tapped her left shoulder while murmuring something under her breath. Her dress slithered to the floor in a pale mint cloud, leaving her standing there in white ... What do you call that?! thought Harry, his heart pounding, his breathing becoming fast and shallow. His wide, green gaze travelled from the gorgeously sexy, smug smile down to the irresistible cleavage at which point he realised she had on a corset style garment that clung to her small waist and stopped just below her belly button revealing a thin strip of taut, white skin between it and the top of her lacy knickers. His eyes kept dropping of their own accord and came to the white, lacy tops of her stay-up, sheer white stockings. He thought it was just as well he hadn't known all day what was under her dress - it would've driven him crazy...

'Hermione...' it came out as an agonised murmur.

'Yes Harry?' Breathless.

'You're...'

'Yes Harry?' Even more breathless.

'Exquisite.' Adoration in his voice.

'Thank you Harry.' Satisfied.

He reached out and clasped her waist, pulling her down to sit beside him on the bed. As he leant over and kissed her, he pushed forward so that she ended up on her back and Harry, still on his knees and clothed in his black pants and white shirt, his bow tie hanging loose, swung one leg over and knelt over her, his mouth still against hers. He felt for her hands and drew them up above her head, holding them there with his own hands, leaving him only his mouth to work with.

'Harry?'

'Mmmmm?'

'I love what you're doing...'

'Good...'

'Harry?'

'Mmmmm?'

'You are so incredibly sexy and I want you so much-'

'You took the words right out of my mouth.'

'Put them back in, will you?'

'Gladly...'

A minute later:

'Harry?'

'Yes Hermione?'

'I want to take my clothes off.'

'Me too.'

'Then let's.'

'Okay.'

'Now, Harry.'

'Got it.'

Two seconds later.

'Harry?'

'Yes Hermione?'

'How did you do that?'

'Do what?'

'Lose all our clothes like that - poof!'

'Poof? What the hell kind of word is that?'

'You know what I mean!'

'How did I do it?'

'Yes.'

'Necessity is-'

'-the mother of invention, I know. I think I love necessity...'

'Not as much as me, I hope.'

'Never as much as you, Harry. Nothing as much as you.'

'Hermione?'

'Yes Harry?'

"What do I have to do to stop you talking?'

'Kiss me more.'

'Love to.'

Quite some time later...

'Harry?'

'Yes Hermione?'

'Love you.'

'Hermione?'

'Yes Harry?'

'Love you, too.'