Margaritas

"What?!" Harry choked, backing up and bumping into the counter. "You thought that I was what?" his glasses slid down his nose, and he stared in disbelief at her over the top of them.

"We thought that perhaps you were gay," Hermione replied, turning her attention back to poaching the eggs. Harry glared at her back, spluttering.

"Would you mind telling me exactly why you thought that?" he finally got out.

"Well, our conclusion was quite simple; after turning down gorgeous witch after gorgeous witch that asked you out on a date, we figured that perhaps the problem wasn't with them, it was that you preferred, well, wizards," she answered as though it were the most obvious thing in the world. Her back was still to him. He didn't exactly know what to say.

"I don't prefer wizards!" he yelled at her indignantly. Hermione shrugged.

"It's really all right if you do, Harry. I mean, Ron and I will support your decision. Actually, I think it would be fun … we could have sleep-overs and stay up late at night doing each other's hair and makeup and such," she said, still busy with the eggs. Harry let out an exasperated sigh.

"For the love of … Hermione, I'm not gay! I won't do your hair, and if I tried to do your makeup, you'd probably come out looking like you were from the circus! And you can just send Ron's owl back with a note attached saying the same thing: I'm - not - gay!" he spelled out. Hermione turned around and crossed her arms, smiling.

"Oh, I know Harry, I'm only teasing. I told you, after experiencing a kiss like that, I really very highly doubt that you're gay. I don't think that a gay man could kiss his best girl friend like that," she added, looking at him pointedly. Harry pushed his glasses back up his nose, feeling the color rising in his cheeks.

"Are you implying something?" he asked after a moment, feeling incredibly nervous for no particular reason. Hermione turned her back to him once again.

"Nothing besides the fact that you're a very good kisser, Mr Potter." Harry chortled despite himself.

"So we're back on the last-name basis? I'm sorry, what did I do? Unless I'm mistaken, you're the one confusing my sexuality, which has put a rather large dent in my pride, if I might add," he stated smugly. He could almost hear Hermione smiling.

"You weren't helping, you know, when you turned down the date with my friend Hannah. That was pretty much the clincher for me. I thought that perhaps you had a secret boyfriend that you were hiding back at your flat. I mean, I have seen Draco Malfoy hanging around your place a lot lately." Harry spat out the tea he had been sipping.

"Draco Malfoy?! You thought that I had been dating Draco Malfoy?" he cried.

"It was a possibility," she continued casually. "I would think that a compliment, Harry. After all, Draco Malfoy is one of the best-looking wizards I've ever laid eyes on."

"But, still!" Harry threw his arms up. "I still can't believe you two thought I was gay! After all these years…" Hermione scraped the eggs onto two separate plates with a side of cold bacon and set them down at her counter, sitting down on a stool. She looked at Harry expectantly when he wouldn't sit down and eat beside her.

"Oh come on, Harry! Be a good sport about it. Really, one has to start questioning when her best friend hasn't been on a date in a good two years, and all he wants to do on Friday nights is hang around with his best girl friend. Not go out with the guys and have an ale or get incredibly sloshed and spend the evening stuffing notes down a girls G-String, but sit around a girl's flat and drink girl's drinks and talk about her love life."

Harry sighed, on the verge of telling her that he hadn't been on a date in the last two years because he didn't want to date other witches; he wanted to date her.

"All right, you've got me there," he admitted, "but I do want to add in that we didn't always drink girl's drinks." Tell her! Something inside his head piped up. Tell her now! Just as he opened his mouth to speak, Hermione's telephone rang loudly. Hermione put down her fork gently and excused herself. She walked across the small kitchen and picked up the phone off its cradle. Harry could only hear her end of the conversation, which wasn't exactly helpful, as it was only things like, "Oh, hi!" and "Of course, I would love to," or "Yes! Wonderful!"

"Who was it?" Harry asked after she had hung up.

"It was Paul," Hermione said, her face flushing. Harry's hopes fell; he had forgotten about Paul momentarily.

"Oh," said Harry, feeling like the biggest git in the world. "What did he want?" he wondered, trying to be indiscreet.

"He said that he'd like to have lunch with me today if that was all right at around one. I said that it would be wonderful, and he told me that he would come around then, and that was that," she told him, taking another forkful of egg. Harry forced a smile.

"Well, that'll be lovely. I suppose I should be on my way soon, then," he moved to get up, but Hermione grabbed his sleeve.

"Don't be silly! Stay for a little while longer! It's rare that I get to see you anymore, so I'd like you to at least stay for the morning."

"No, really, Hermione, I ought to be going. I have things I have to get in order for work tomorrow, and I have a certain Weasley I have to owl," he said firmly. Hermione's face fell.

"Well, if you have things to do, I suppose that it's best if you go soon then," she said quietly. Harry nodded and put his plate in the sink.

"Thanks for being such a lovely hostess, Hermione. We should really get together more often. You should come over to my new flat soon," he tried to make mild conversation. Hermione smiled.

"That would be lovely. Oh, would you look at me, I'm not even dressed yet. Would you hold on for a moment, Harry? I feel incredibly silly in this dressing gown alone," she walked off down the hallway and appeared two minutes later dressed in a flattering forest green jumper and a grey wool skirt. She was busy pinning her hair up. Harry couldn't help but let a little smile play about his face. She looked absolutely lovely, though the dressing gown had been flattering enough as it was. He told her this, and she flushed.

"You're such a flirt, Harry Potter," she let her lips curl into a small smile. He returned it shyly, wanting to grab her and finish that kiss she had started earlier.

"Apparently I'm a good kisser, too," he drew her attention back to that. Hermione nearly dropped the plate she was washing.

"Why - yes, yes you are," she spluttered to regain her composure. Harry drew in a deep breath and moved closer to her. He leaned against the refrigerator.

"Why don't you tell me more about this, Miss Granger? I do believe my ego needs a little inflating after it was mistaken for 'preferring wizards'." He watched Hermione flush again and stutter for a moment.

"Well, er, that is -" she was cut off by his lips pressing onto hers. She made a muffled noise against his mouth, but he was sure it wasn't one of protest when she didn't push him away. After a few moments, she snaked her arms around his neck, twining her fingers in his mop of jet-black hair. He rested his hands on her hips as he gently ran his tongue along her bottom lip. She pressed him closer and opened her mouth to him, letting his tongue explore. He took in a deep breath, seeing stars behind his eyes. This was it; this was the woman the he knew he wanted to spend the rest of his life with. He knew it by the way their tongues danced, and by the way their bodies curved together.

Breaking the kiss, he began to run his lips across her jaw and down her neck in light, butterfly kisses. Hearing her moan only enticed him further as he undid the pin that was securely fastening her hair in its bun. It flowed down freely over his hands, silky and soft. He returned his lips to hers, sealing their mouths together once again. Fireworks went off in front of his face. He pressed his hand into the small of her back, pulling her as close to him as they could, feeling that if there were any space between them, it would be a sin.

They broke apart, both panting for air. Hermione peered up at him, shyly smiling. Her lips were swollen, and he felt that his were too.

"I'm afraid that that wasn't convincing enough, Mr Potter," she said breathlessly. "Maybe one more will do it." With that, Harry leaned down and brushed his lips gently across hers, leaving her with a ghost of a kiss.

"How about that? Still think I prefer wizards?" he smiled at her. She shook her head.

"Nah, you had me with the first one. I just liked it so much I thought I might get more if I lied," she moved closer to him, wrapping her arms around his neck once again. Harry thought of something at once.

"What about Mr Stuck-Up-Office-Drab, coming to pick you up at one?" he asked. Hermione shrugged.

"I can cancel. I think I'd rather spend the day being convinced, if you know what I mean," she smiled suggestively. Harry chuckled.

"I think I've got it," he bent down and gently kissed the corner of her mouth. He swept her off her feet and carried her into the bedroom, unplugging the phone on the way by. She giggled with delight.

"Of course, you can't use this 'gay' excuse forever, Harry," she said very seriously. He pretended to pout.

"You mean I don't get to convince you anymore?"

Hermione smiled, "Did I say that?"