The Coin

Harry stood there paralyzed, staring at the empty space where Hermione had been only a moment before. His mind, however, was racing at the speed of light. What was he going to do? What was he going to say? How could he possibly make this right with Hermione? And why in the hell did her kisses turn his world into such a topsy turvy mess that he didn’t know up from down or right from wrong? And kissing Hermione-his best friend-like that had definitely been wrong, but he had to make it right somehow.

Pulling himself out of his stupor, Harry grabbed his cloak from the back of his couch and prepared to Disapparate.

“Harry? Forget me again?” the beautiful dark haired woman asked with a smile.

“Elizabeth, I’m so sorry. But I’ve got to go after Hermione,” he apologized.

“Ah, I thought that looked like Hermione. I‘ve only seen her in photographs, though I feel as if I should know her. You speak of her so often.” Harry talked about his best friend incessantly, though he didn’t realize it, Elizabeth did. “Not the way I imagined I’d get to meet her, not that we got around to introductions. And for some reason, I don’t think I made a very good first impression.” She let the grin she had been trying to hide play across her face.

Harry walked around the couch to stand in front of her. “I’m so sorry. I can only imagine what Hermione is thinking right now.”

“Oh, I think I know exactly what she’s thinking,” Elizabeth interrupted with a forced laugh, “and it’s probably not very charitable towards you or me.” Harry grimaced. “That’s why I think it would be a mistake to go after her right now. Give her some time to cool down, and she will be more likely to see reason.”

Harry opened his mouth as if he was about to argue, but Elizabeth held up her hand, stopping him. “Harry, if you go to her now, she won’t be in any mood to listen to you. She thinks you were kissing her senseless and all the while you had another woman in your flat waiting for you to pick up where you’d left off with her. It isn’t going to be easy to convince her that my standing in the middle of your flat, buttoning my blouse, was a completely innocent thing.”

Running his hands roughly through his hair that was already tousled by Hermione’s hands, he breathed out a deep, dispirited sigh. “But it was completely innocent.”

Taking Harry’s hand in hers, Elizabeth pulled him down so that they sat on the couch facing each other. “Yes, Harry, it was, but you have to admit it didn’t exactly look that way, now did it?”

“No,” Harry shook his head, frowning. But Hermione and I are just friends, that’s all I want us to be. Those kisses were just a mistake.”

“Kisses?” she asked. “You’ve kissed her more than once?”

“Yeah, last night.” Harry looked away and wouldn’t meet Elizabeth’s eyes.

“Are you sure you and Hermione are just friends? Is that all you want?”

This time he did meet her eyes. “Yes, I’m sure. I can’t risk our friendship on something that might not work out.” Elizabeth didn’t comment on the trace of doubt she saw shadowed behind his glasses.

“Then why don’t you just tell her that you only want to be friends. It might hurt her now, but in the long run it will definitely be for the best. But I‘m still wondering how you are going to explain my presence here.”

“I’ll explain that we work together, that you got hurt in a run in with one of the bad guys, and I was just tending to your injuries.”

“Oh, I see. You’ll explain that I was breaking the rules, went after Nappa without backup and almost ended up getting myself killed. That I knew I had broken at least ten department rules, so I came to my partner to get patched up instead of going to the work infirmary to keep myself out of trouble. Is that what you are going to tell her, Harry?” Elizabeth asked, not unsympathetically. She knew the answer before he gave it.

Harry rubbed his temples with his fingers, trying to dispel the headache that had started to pound an uncomfortable rhythm in his head. “You know I can’t and won’t tell her any of that. Knowing details about my work will only put her in danger. And I wouldn’t say anything that would land you in trouble either.”

Taking his hands away from his forehead and holding them in both of her own, Elizabeth smiled, looking deeply into his eyes. “I know. That’s what makes you such a wonderful partner and friend. I knew I could come to you and you’d protect me. I’m sorry that I put you in this position, though.”

“But don’t you know you could have been killed?” Harry took up the refrain he had been repeating to her since she had Apparated into his flat. “You should have never gone after Nappa alone,” he admonished.

Elizabeth unconsciously rubbed her thumb back and forth across Harry’s hand, which she still held, a faraway look in her dark eyes. “The intelligence was too good, Harry,” she brought her gaze back to meet his. “I couldn’t find you, and I had to act quickly. I didn’t want him to get away again.”

“You could have been killed,” he reminded her again, concern lighting his eyes.

“You just didn‘t want to have to break in a new partner,” she tried for a flippant response, his concern hitting too close to her heart for her peace of mind.

“Elizabeth!” Harry exclaimed in a hurt voice. “You know better than that, don’t you?”

“Of course I do, Harry. That was just my weak attempt at humor.” She freed her hands from his and gently cupped the side of his face.

As Elizabeth stared into Harry’s eyes, her heart flip-flopped at the worry she saw reflected back at her. She sincerely hoped he was telling her the truth about his feelings for Hermione. She knew that trying to pursue a relationship with a co-worker was about as bad as trying to pursue one with a friend. At the same time, she knew she’d like nothing more than to be Harry’s partner in much more than work.

Her near brush with death, combined with Harry’s close proximity, threatened to overcome her usual good sense. Before she could talk herself out of it, she had leaned forward and gently pressed her lips to his cheek, kissing him softly, letting her lips linger there a moment more than propriety dictated. She gazed into his eyes, a shy invitation lighting hers. But before Harry could respond, she stood up.

“Thanks again for you help. I better go.” Picking up her purse and cloak, she prepared to Disapparate.

“Are you going to be all right by yourself?” Harry asked.

Touched by the concern in his voice, she nodded and whispered, “I’ll see you at work tomorrow.” She Disapparated a moment later.

Harry flopped back into the cushions on the couch, the pounding in his head now louder than the entire percussion section of the London Symphony Orchestra.

Now what? Did he go after Hermione? Elizabeth had said that wasn’t a good idea, but maybe she had an ulterior motive. Unless he missed his guess, she had been offering an invitation to kiss her and he had almost taken her up on it. That’s nonsense. His mind immediately insisted. He had been working with her for almost two years and she was one of the most guileless people he knew. He was convinced that her kissing him on the cheek hadn’t been planned nor was the look he had seen in her eyes any kind of ploy to seduce him. It had been an honest display of emotions brought about by the moment. Life had definitely taken a turn for the complicated.

Sighing in frustration, Harry rose from the couch and stalked over to Hedwig’s cage. He swiftly scribbled a short note, tied it to her leg and sent her on her way. Walking back to the couch, he sat back down, staring into the fire, which was crackling merrily. He watched as a log snapped in two, reddish orange flames rushing up to lap at the now separate pieces, shooting sparks of fire up the chimney. Why did he suddenly feel as if his and Hermione’s relationship was like that log, quickly being consumed by a fire that was out of their control?

*^*^*^*^*^*^*^*^*

The low hum of the television droned on in the background, but Ron and Lissa were too caught up in each other to notice the couple standing by an airplane embracing, saying their final goodbyes. Far from saying goodbye, the lovers entwined on the sofa were just beginning to experience the passion that new love had to offer. Ron traced his finger down the side of Lissa’s neck, causing her to shiver, then letting his lips explore the same trail his finger had just taken. Lissa moaned her appreciation.

Kissing his way back up her neck, Ron finally claimed her lips in an achingly tender kiss, which she returned with a matching tenderness of her own. She and Ron had shared many kisses in the few months that they had been dating, but with her mother lying so sick in the next room, they had never gone farther or even kissed so passionately. Tonight, however, was going to be different. They had made their engagement official when Ron had slipped the small diamond solitaire on her finger. This afternoon, she had given him her heart. Tonight she would give him her body and her soul.

Lissa had been more than a little nervous when she had told Ron that she had never been intimate with a man before. The weekend before she was to go away with her previous fiancé, he had run off with her best friend. At the time, she had been devastated. But now held lovingly in the arms of the man she knew she was destined to spend the rest of her life with, the pain ceased to matter. She was supremely happy with the way things had worked out.

Trailing kisses down her throat, Ron moved Lissa‘s hair to the side, exposing her neck to more of his drugging kisses. Everywhere his lips touched formed a tiny trail of fire that was making her blood feel like molten lava coursing through her veins. She closed her eyes in ecstasy, thrilling at the feelings Ron was stirring in her. When his lips moved back up to reclaim hers, she knew she had never wanted anything more than she wanted Ron at that moment.

When he broke the kiss to allow a much-needed breath of air for both of them, Lissa opened her eyes to look at Ron. She wanted to tell him how much she loved him, how his kisses made her feel. “Ron, I…” she paused, glancing over his shoulder, eyes widening. Ron failed to see her hesitation, still too caught up in his own arousal and need of her.

“Ron, there’s an owl at the window and I think it wants in.” Lissa finally managed to say, the sentence sounding odd no matter how she phrased it. “I think it’s…knocking.”

Ron turned to glance at the window. “Bloody good timing, mate,” he groaned, looking back at Lissa. “That’s only Hedwig, Harry’s owl. She must be bringing me some mail.”

“Mail? An owl is bringing you mail?” she asked, bewildered.

Laughing, Ron dropped a quick kiss to her forehead, got up and went over to let Hedwig in. Taking the note from her, he rubbed her head briefly before she flew back out the window.

Unrolling the note, Ron crossed back to sit beside her. After briefly scanning the note, he furrowed his brow in concern. He handed the note to her, and she read the brief missive.

Ron,

Go to Hermione. She needs you.

Harry

Lissa could see Ron’s look of confusion and concern for his best friend warring with his desire to stay and finish what they had begun.

“Go, Ron,” she said without hesitation. “If Harry says that Hermione needs you, then you have to go.”

When Ron gazed at his fiancée, the look of love lighting his eyes nearly stole her breath away. “Most women wouldn’t be okay with their fiancé running off to help his ex-girlfriend, especially considering what the situation interrupted.”

Placing her hand on the side of his cheek, Lissa looked deeply into his eyes, letting the love in hers shine brightly. “I’m not most women, Ron. And I love you and trust you. I can’t say I’m not disappointed that we got interrupted, because I am. But remember everything happens for a reason. We’ll have our time.”

“Yes, we will. Soon. I promise.” He placed a soft kiss to her forehead, and then hugged her briefly before preparing to leave.

“Call me,” Lissa requested as she walked him to the door. Ron started to speak, but she stopped him. “Oh, that’s right, you don’t have a phone. You know, Ron, that should have tipped me off that something wasn’t quite right with you. You didn’t give me your phone number. You never mentioned where you lived; just told me to meet you in the park at 6 pm every night and when I didn’t show up, you’d come here to check on me. You’d think that would have put a large warning sign over your head that read...”

“Wizard,” Ron quipped, grinning and taking her back into his arms.

“No, ax murderer, lunatic…married.” Lissa grinned back at him, tilting her head back slightly so she could look up into his face. “Wizard wouldn’t even have made my top ten thousand.”

Laughing, Ron captured her lips for an all too brief kiss. “I’d better go,” he told her, placing a kiss on the tip of her nose. “I’ll owl you.”

Lissa gave him a mock glare. “I guess there are some things that are going to take getting used to, aren’t there? But let me assure you, Ron Weasley, that when we get married, no matter where we decide to live, we will get a phone and you will learn to use it. And don’t send me an owl, what will my neighbors think if they see me letting an owl into my house?”

“True. We’d have to employ lots of Memory charms,” Ron told her.

“Memory charms?” Lissa asked, confused.

“Remind me to give you a lesson in witchcraft and wizardry,” Ron laughed again. “I‘ve got to go.” Stealing one last kiss for the road, he strode off into the night.

Closing the door and leaning against it, Melissa sighed. “Well, life with you will never be boring, will it, Ron?”

*^*^*^*^*^*^*^*^*^*

Hermione Apparated into her flat, tears still streaming down her face. She walked blindly into her bedroom, grief battling anger in a struggle for emotional supremacy. Flinging her purse across the room, contents spilling onto the floor, she knew the anger had finally won out.

“How could he do that?” she sobbed. “How could he kiss me like that and have her there waiting in his apartment? That kiss meant everything to me, but apparently I was only one in a long line of conquests for Harry Potter.” Her breath hitched as she tried to control the anger coursing through her veins hotter than molten lava. She angrily swiped at the liquid trail snaking its way down her cheeks.

“How stupid could you be, Hermione?” she gave a self-deprecating laugh, bitter and devoid of any humor whatsoever. “I was ready to give myself to him, body and soul, the bastard. He doesn’t deserve me.”

Crookshanks looked up from where he laid curled in the rocker and uttered a plaintive meow. Hermione walked over to the rocker, picked up her cat and sat down with him cuddled in her arms. Pressing her face to his soft orange fur, her tears started anew dampening the fur where they fell. Grief and despair momentarily overcoming the rage pulling the rope back to their side of the line in the emotional version of tug of war.

“Oh, Crookshanks, how could I have been so wrong? Why did I risk the best friendship I’ve ever had on a kiss?” That wasn’t just a simple kiss, Hermione. “No, it wasn’t…”

A loud knock on the door startled her, causing Crookshanks to leap from her arms with a disgruntled meow. Her anger renewed itself, coursing through her veins once more. “If he thinks I’m going to speak to him right now, he is sorely mistaken.” She remained in the chair, arms crossed mutinously. The knock came again, louder and more insistent this time. Give him a chance. Let him explain. She pushed her logical, rational voice viciously aside, preferring to stay wrapped in her cloak of righteous indignation.

Again the knock sounded, this time followed by a voice. “Hermione, are you in there?” But the voice wasn’t Harry’s; it was Ron’s. She couldn’t help the small shiver of disappointment.

Reluctantly, she rose from the rocker; she’d better let him in soon before the neighbors started to wonder what all the commotion was about. “I’m coming,” she called as she walked slowly to the door.

Hermione opened the door to see Ron standing there, a concerned look lighting his blue eyes. Once he saw her puffy face and her red, swollen eyes, he stepped inside, closed the door and took her into his arms.

That tender gesture was her undoing. The dam burst, and she sobbed her misery out onto his shoulder as if her heart would break. In truth, her heart was broken. She had unwittingly given it to Harry and had received it back in pieces when she had seen that woman standing in his flat. She wasn’t aware that Ron had moved them to the couch, but after she had cried herself all out, she realized they were now seated. Ron stroked her hair soothingly, muttering soft words of comfort.

Lifting her head from his tear soaked shoulder; she drew back and gave him a watery smile. “Harry sent you an owl.” It was a statement not a question.

“Yeah, I was at Lissa’s. The note just said you needed me. Wanna tell me what happened?” Ron sat back to wait patiently for Hermione to gather herself enough to begin.

Hermione’s emotions once again fought a tug of war. Should she tell Ron everything? Would it affect his relationship with Harry if she did? How would the fact that they had once been involved play into the whole equation? After much soul searching, she finally decided on complete honesty.

“Harry kissed me last night.” At Ron’s blank expression, she added, “You don’t look surprised.”

“He told me today at lunch after you’d left.”

“What did he say about it?” Hermione asked with some trepidation.

“Just that he shouldn’t have let it happen because you were his friend.” Ron paused.

“And…” Hermione prompted.

“And that it would never happen again,” Ron finished. Hermione winced. “But it did, didn’t it?” he prodded gently.

She nodded. “I went to his flat tonight, determined to confront him about the feelings that the kiss aroused in both of us.” Ron raised his eyebrow at her choice of words but wisely held his tongue. “He kissed me again, right in the doorway to his flat.”

“Must have given the neighbors quite a show,” he grinned.

“I’m sure we did. Anyway, we finally got into his flat and shut the door.” She stopped, closing her eyes, the memory of being in Harry’s arms, kissing him as if her life depended on it, washing over her in waves.

“And it was getting hot and heavy by that time.” Ron stated with no trace of humor in his voice, only a look of concern for Hermione in his eyes.

Sitting there quietly, Hermione tried to stamp down the emotions that were trying to overwhelm her. After a few moments, she was able to reign in her emotions enough to continue. “There was a woman there. She asked Harry if he had forgotten about her. Evidently he had.” When it looked like Ron was about to interrupt, probably to defend Harry, she continued, “She was buttoning her blouse.”

Ron looked dumbstruck but finally had the presence of mind to ask, “Did you give him the opportunity to explain? It may have looked incriminating but maybe it was completely innocent.”

“Swing-first-and-ask-questions-later-Ron is asking give-them-the-benefit-of-the-doubt-Hermione if she gave him a chance to explain. When did you grow up?” Her smile wasn’t so forced this time.

“Shhh, don’t tell anyone. It’s a secret,” Ron grinned; glad to see some of the tension seep out of her shoulders. “But really, Hermione. I can’t see Harry snogging you madly when he had another woman already in his flat for the same purpose. That just doesn’t sound like him.”

“No, it doesn’t, does it?” she asked ruefully, burying her tear-streaked face in her hands.

“No. Maybe you should talk to Harry again and give him the benefit of the doubt this time.”

She resolutely dried her tears. “You’re right. I’ll give him a chance to explain, and if he doesn’t come up with a suitable explanation, then I’ll hex him and that witch to Australia and back.”

“That’s the spirit,” Ron laughed. He stood and pulled Hermione up into his arms, enfolding her in a warm embrace. “If you need anything, don’t hesitate to owl me.”

She walked him to the door, holding his hand. “Thanks, Ron. You’re the best. Have I told you lately how glad I am we were able to put the past behind us and remain friends?”

Ron gently kissed her cheek, smiling at her. “No happier than I am, Hermione.”

“Tell Lissa I’m sorry I dragged you away, and I can’t wait to meet her Friday night. Hope I didn’t interrupt anything important.”

Flushing a dull red, Ron shook his head, kissed Hermione on the cheek again and walked off into the dark night.

Standing silhouetted in the light from her door, she watched until Ron’s figure faded into the distance. She looked into the dark sky, lightly sprinkled with stars. Suddenly, a shooting star streaked across the horizon.

Make a wish,

she thought. Smiling, she stepped back into her flat and quietly closed the door.

*^*^*^*^*^*^^*^*

The sun was up, promising a bright, sunshiny day; only a few clouds dotted the usually gloomy and overcast London sky. Hermione took this as a sign that her anticipated talk with Harry would yield equally warm results. She hurried through her morning routine, impatient to get to work. Her plan was to send a company owl to Harry to ask him to dinner and to give him a chance to explain.

Ron was right; there had to be a logical explanation for that woman being at Harry’s flat last night. Harry wasn’t the sort to kiss her when he already had a woman waiting for him inside his home. She berated herself again for flying off the handle like that. Reflecting back, she could remember the stark look of concern in his eyes as he had reached for her after she had seen the other woman. Her own hurt had clouded her ability to realize that the night before.

She was almost ready to leave for the office but could not find where she had put her purse the previous night. Oh right, she thought as she walked back to her bedroom and picked up her purse from the floor where she had flung it in anger the night before. Picking up all the contents, she stuffed them back into the bag. On the way out of the room, she bent down and petted Crookshanks, scratching him under his chin and causing him to purr contentedly. “Mummy might have company tonight, baby. If all goes well, I’ll be spending the evening with Harry, hopefully making amends and exploring our future together.” Giving her cat one last rub, she stood and smiled as she caught her reflection in the mirror. It had taken a special ocular spell this morning to reduce her red, swollen eyes back to her normal brown. But the brown orbs that now looked back at her shone with a renewed hope; a hope that at the very least, she and Harry could repair the damage done to their friendship. More than that though, it was her most fervent hope that he would give them the chance to explore whether they could be so much more.

*^*^*^*^*^*^*^*^*^

Hermione walked directly to the owlery upon her arrival at work. Choosing a plain brown owl to make her delivery, she picked up a small parch pad and wrote her carefully thought out letter .

Harry,

I am so sorry for leaving last night without even giving you a chance to explain. Can you please forgive me and give me a chance to make it up to you? I know there is a perfectly reasonable explanation for that woman being there. I know you Harry, and know that you would have never kissed me like that if you had that other woman there for the same reason.

Please come to my flat for dinner tonight at 7:00. I promise not to cook. I’ll order in. I am anxiously awaiting your response.

Hermione

After tying the parchment to the owl’s leg, she watched it fly out the window. Talk about a wing and a prayer, she thought, picking up her belongings and hurrying to her office to begin her day.

*^*^*^*^*^*^*^*^*^

Shuffling through the report folders on her desk, Hermione searched in vain for the report from the Department of Magical Mysteries Research team. She had a meeting with Korine and Kamali from that department in less than fifteen minutes, and she could not put her hands on the report that they were supposed to go over.

“Sabrina,” she called out, “have you seen the…”

“Report from the Magical Mysteries Department,” her secretary finished, walking into the office. “Here it is. You asked me to use the Duplicator quill to make copies for the meeting.” Sabrina handed her boss the original plus two copies of the report, all neatly bound in blue covers.

“What would I do without you?” Hermione smiled at her assistant. “Wait, don’t answer that. I really don’t want to know. Have you set up all the meetings with the department heads for this coming week?”

“Already done. I’ve also ordered the latest R & D files from all the departments. I’m having them sent by messenger to your flat for your nighttime reading pleasure.”

Hermione massaged her temples with her fingertips and rolled her neck from side to side. “Tell me again why I took this job? It’s barely ten in the morning, and I feel as if I’ve already put in a day’s work.” She grimaced at the ever increasing files on her desk. She had the oddest feeling that they were like the bowls of food they had served at Hogwarts, every time she emptied a tray it seemed to magically fill itself back up again.

“You were after the money and prestige?” suggested Sabrina cheekily. Hermione’s snort suggested otherwise.

“It will get better. After all, you’re already making progress on these files. It’s not your fault the department was left in such chaos. No one expects you to fix everything in a day. A week maybe, but definitely not a day.” Sabrina began backing out of the office when Hermione picked up a heavy book laying on the corner of her desk, obviously contemplating throwing it at her.

“Hey, wait, don’t throw that; I brought that from home. I thought it might help in figuring out what that coin means.”

Hermione looked down at the cover of the old book. Coins, Curses and Other Curiosities.

“Strange, I haven’t even thought about that coin in a while. Guess I’ve had other things on my mind.”

“Like Harry?” Sabrina asked hopefully. Hermione smiled but didn’t answer. “Well I marked a couple of pages that might help,” she added when Hermione wasn’t forthcoming with any more information.

“Thanks, I’ll take it home and read through it. But hopefully I’ll have something better to occupy my time tonight.” Hermione smiled mysteriously at her secretary. Before Sabrina could satisfy her curiosity, Kamali and Korine walked in the door right on time for their meeting.

Sabrina gave her boss a don’t-think-I’m-about-to-let-that-drop look before she exited the office, pulling the door closed behind her.

*^*^*^*^*^*^*^*^*^*^*^*^

Harry looked around his spartanly furnished office with a sigh. Whoever had decorated it had definitely gone in for the minimalist effect. It was functional and practical, but that was the best he could say about it. His large oak desk, currently covered under a mountain of files, was placed in front of a large picture window that allowed for a nice view of Diagon Alley. Two wingback leather chairs sat in front of it. A file cabinet sat to the right behind his desk for easy access. A tall, artificial rubber plant sat in the corner, dusty from neglect.

Looking back down at the letter he had received moments ago, he read it once again. He could hear the hope behind Hermione’s words of contrition. She said she believed there was a logical explanation for Elizabeth being at his flat. While he was glad she was willing to give him the benefit of the doubt. But he knew Hermione well enough to be able to read between the lines; to know that she wanted more than just his forgiveness; she wanted them to pick up where they had left off.

He ran his hand shakily through his messy black mane. Why did life have to suddenly become so complicated? One kiss and his whole world had been turned upside down.

His job was a very dangerous one. The Ministry thought that after Voldemort’s demise that the dark wizards would be so scattered and ineffective that they would not pose much of a threat to the wizarding world again. They had been wrong.

The peace they had achieved after Voldemort‘s fall had been a short lived one. But the Ministry officials had quickly realized that evil can never truly be vanquished; that there would always be another evil force ready to take the place of the one before. So Harry had decided to become an Auror and do his part to make the world he had come to love a safer place to be. He felt he owed it to the people who had shown him love during his years at Hogwarts.

He had never known true love and acceptance until he had learned he was a wizard and had embraced that life. The Dursleys had certainly never given him love or acceptance. But then he went to Hogwarts and he met Ron and Hermione. He had always felt a certain responsibility to live up to their expectations of him. Further, he felt he had to continue to protect the people he loved and he could do that best by being an Auror.

Talk of Harry’s job never failed to put Hermione on edge. She had been protective of him as far back as the Firebolt incident. For that reason, he never gave her many details of his job. He knew she would worry if she knew that he was in danger. More than worry, she would probably try to do something to help him, and that was with them just being friends. If they were to become romantically involved, then he knew there would be no stopping her lovingly meant interference.

There were so many reasons a relationship with Hermione wasn’t a good idea. In fact, he had never been involved in a really serious relationship with anyone. His job pretty much precluded that. Although he did like to think he could find a special someone some day and have the kind of love his parents had had.

For some reason, his mind drifted to Elizabeth. There had always been an element of underlying sexual tension between them. Although neither had ever acted on it. His partner was certainly beautiful. But it wasn‘t her outward appearance that drew him to her. She was warm, fun to be around and had a wicked sense of humor. Lots of people took it as sarcasm but Harry was used to it by now and knew she meant no harm by it. But Elizabeth also had a more serious side. Anyone who had survived the tragedy she had was bound to be permanently changed. Harry knew that it had only served to make her a stronger person, and he admired her greatly.

As if his thoughts of her had conjured her out of thin air, she walked into the room, looking none the worse for wear after her near death experience of the night before. “Good morning, Harry,” she greeted him with a smile.

Harry rose and walked to the other side of his desk and perched on the edge in front of her; Elizabeth standing in front of him. He smiled back and returned her greeting. “Good morning to you, too. I see you’re all recovered from your little ordeal from last night.”

“Yes,” she looked into his eyes and her smile grew brighter. My wonderful partner took very good care of me. Thanks again, by the way. It doesn’t look as if anyone is the wiser, or else I would have already been called on the carpet this morning.”

“Quite right, but I still can’t believe you went it alone.” Harry shook his head at his partner’s stupidity.

Elizabeth placed her hand lightly on the sleeve of Harry’s robe and fixed him with a serious stare. “You know why I did it, Harry. It wasn’t just getting a dangerous wizard off the street; it was personal.”

“All the more reason you shouldn’t have gone it alone. I know; I’ll stop lecturing.” He held up his hands in mock surrender when it appeared Elizabeth was about to launch into another round of justifications for her behavior.

She laughed lightly, the pleasant sound filling the room. “Why don’t we put a moratorium on recriminations and I cook a nice supper for you tonight in appreciation of you being such a wonderful partner?”

“I’m sorry, I can’t,” Harry said regretfully. He reached around behind him and picked up Hermione’s letter. “I got this letter a little while ago; Hermione invited me to dinner. She wants to give me the chance to explain.”

“That’s great, Harry.” Elizabeth lowered her eyes so that he could not see that she really didn’t think so. “Have you decided to try to give a relationship with her a go then?”

“No, I haven’t changed my mind about that. I’m just going to have to explain to her that we can only be friends.”

Hope flared in Elizabeth’s heart and she dared to look up at Harry, noting the determination in his vivid green eyes. “So, how about dinner tomorrow night then?”

“Sounds great,” he grinned. “Need me to bring anything?”

“Just that gorgeous smile.” Elizabeth immediately clamped a hand over her mouth, an attractive blush coloring her cheeks, a look of horror lighting her eyes. “I can’t believe I said that.”

“S’okay.” Harry’s grin broadened. “Now how about helping me fill out some of these blasted reports.”

“I can handle that,” Elizabeth settled herself into one of the leather chairs as Harry went to sit back down on his side of the desk. Picking up one of the many folders, she started going over the field reports.

Harry picked up his eagle feather quill, Hermione’s Christmas present to him last year and scratched out a short note.

See you at seven.

Harry

He carefully rolled the parchment up and buzzed Peter, one of the office assistants, and asked him to make sure it went out with the lunchtime post. Glancing across the desk at Elizabeth, he thought how awkward tonight was going to be. Mentally shaking his head to clear away the troubling thoughts, he settled down to try to help Elizabeth with the reports.

*^*^*^*^*^*^*^*^*^

Hermione stepped back from the table to survey her handiwork. Her best linen cloth was draped gracefully over the table. The silver shone and the crystal gleamed due to the nifty little spell she had found one day while reading Shortcuts to a Beautiful Home for the Busy Witch. The Chinese food she had ordered sat in their cardboard containers. Candles hovered in the air as well as sat on the table, casting the scene with a soft glow.

Harry’s note had been short and to the point. “See you at seven.” It was almost that now. The troop of butterflies that had been dancing a ballet in her stomach since she had gotten Harry’s note now felt like they were doing a lively rendition of The Dance of the Sugarplum Fairies. The knock of the door changed their dance to a circus acrobat’s tumbling routine. Wiping her damp palms against the silk of her blue pantsuit trousers, she took a deep breath and went to answer the door.

She opened the door to find Harry standing there, looking as nervous as she felt. That calmed her nerves considerably. Smiling, she opened the door wider and invited him in with a softly spoken, “Hi.”

“Hi,” he grinned, noting not a trace of the hurt he had inadvertently caused the previous night. He only hope that it would not be back tenfold when he left her later tonight, but he wasn’t holding his breath on that one.

“You look nice,” Harry offered the compliment following Hermione into her living room, handing her his coat that she carefully draped over a chair.

“So do you.” Hermione took in his starched white Oxford shirt and his perfectly creased dark trousers. Must have had help with that, she thought.

“Hermione, I…” He began awkwardly.

“Shh.” She placed a finger lightly on his lips. “No serious talk until after we enjoy our dinner. After all, I slaved all afternoon over a hot stove just to prepare one of your favorite meals for you.”

Harry took the hand that had only seconds before been touching his lips and threaded his fingers through hers, leading her to the table. Casting an amused glance at the cardboard containers, he chuckled, “I can see that.” He pulled out her chair for her then seated himself across the table.

At first, an awkward silence descended over the table as they ate. But before long, Hermione was telling him all about her new job responsibilities and was amusing him with the horror stories of the mountains of files that had been stacked so high, they had caused an avalanche when she had taken off the top one. They talked about how much they couldn’t wait to meet Lissa on Friday night and how special she must be to have so completely ensnared Ron’s heart. But talk of relationships hit too close to their own situation, and they steered it back to safer topics until the hot and spicy shredded beef had all been devoured.

They were almost done with their sopaipillas when Harry noticed a smudge of powdered sugar that Hermione’s darting tongue had not gotten off. It had been the swift darting out of her tongue that had drawn his attention unerringly to her mouth. Like the night he had wiped the cream off her face, he found himself reaching across the table to wipe the sugar from her mouth. This time he didn’t have the opportunity to pull his hand back as if he had been burned. Instead, Hermione grasped his hand in both of hers, her brown eyes boring into green, and pulled his thumb into her mouth, licking the sweet substance off with a swirl of her tongue. The sensation sent a fiery streak down to the lower part of Harry’s anatomy.

When she released his thumb from her mouth, he did pull his hand from hers as if he had been scalded. “Hermione,” he half groaned, half croaked out. He cleared his throat roughly. “We have to talk.”

At her slight nod of consent, he rose and offered her his hand; she placed her smaller one trustingly into his warm, larger one and followed as he led her to the couch. After they were seated facing each other, Harry began.

“Hermione, I…” he stopped not quite sure now that it came down to it how to begin. Hermione’s encouraging smile gave him the resolution to continue. “Do you trust me, Hermione?”

“With my life, Harry.” She reached out and took his hands into hers.

“Then I’m going to ask you to trust me that nothing was going on last night with Elizabeth.”

“Elizabeth? Your partner from work?”

“Yes. You know that I can’t give you any details about my work and what I do. But please believe me that last night was completely innocent. There has never been anything between me and Elizabeth, and there wasn’t anything going on before I kissed you last night. Do you believe me?” Harry held his breath waiting anxiously for her response.

Hermione looked into the eyes of her best friend. She had never had any reason to doubt his veracity before, and she realized with a good bit of relief that she didn’t doubt him now. “I do believe you. I’m sorry I didn’t give you the benefit of the doubt, Harry. I know you wouldn’t lie to me.”

Harry sagged in relief. “I’m so glad, Hermione. I knew how much what you thought you saw must have hurt you. But you have always been the one person I could count on to be there for me. When you flew out of my flat without giving me a chance to explain, I have to admit it stung a little. You were about the only one who believed I didn’t put my name in the Goblet, even Ron didn’t believe that at first. So when I thought you’d assumed I’d have another woman in my flat and kiss you like I did at my door, well…”

“I hurt you and I am more sorry than you will ever know.” She squeezed the hands she still held. “Can you ever forgive me?” She lifted pleading eyes to his.

“Of course,” he nodded. “I want us to go back to the way we were before and be friends again.”

“We never stopped being friends, Harry. We couldn’t. But as for things going back to the way they were before, I’m afraid it’s a little late for that.”

Concern shaded Harry’s eyes. “But Hermione I don‘t want to be more than that…”

She shook her head, shushing him with a look. Framing his face with her hands, she slowly closed the distance between them until her lips met his in a soft touch. At first, the pressure was gentle but insistent, but when Harry felt her tongue flicker out along his lower lip, seeking entrance, he pulled away abruptly.

“Hermione, we can’t do this.” Harry tugged a shaky hand through his hair

“Why not?” She moved back towards him. A mischievous twinkle in her eyes. “This feels so right.”

Harry stopped her by placing both hands on her shoulders, holding her away from him; but even that slight contact was doing funny things to his nervous system. He took a deep breath and recalled what Elizabeth had told him in parting today, a sympathetic look in her dark eyes. “Better to break her heart in two now than to break it into a million pieces later.”

Harry closed his eyes and drew in a deep breath. "Hermione, we can't do this. We can't go down that road in our relationship. I don't want to. We're just friends; that's all we're ever going to be."

"Why Harry? I don't understand. I know that you want me; I can feel that when we kiss. Why are you so afraid of opening up your heart and letting me in? Please give us a chance, Harry. Please give me a chance to show you how much you mean to me. Maybe we were meant to fall in love."

"No, Hermione. What we’ve been playing at isn’t love. It’s just how any warm blooded male responds when an attractive woman presses herself up against him and kisses him like you kissed me. "

Hermione looked as if he had slapped her across the face, hard. Heat suffused her cheeks. But she struggled with her anger and tried once more to reason with him. "Love is a risk, Harry. It's sort of like Apparating for the first time. You might end of splinching yourself but you'll never get to your destination if you don't take the chance and take the risk. Love is like that; you have to be willing to take the risk or you'll never experience the magic. And we could be magic, Harry. I know we could."

Harry shook his head regretfully at her. "I'm sorry, Hermione. I just don’t feel that way about you. Please don‘t let it affect our friendship though.”

“All right, Harry. If that’s the way you want it. Your friendship means too much to me to lose it over a stupid kiss.”

Harry looked a bit wary at her sudden acquiesce, but shrugged it off with a smile, happy she had seen it his way for a change. “I’m glad you decided to see reason.” Hugging her warmly, he held her for a moment, savoring the feel of her in his arms. Then he let her go. “We’re much better as friends. Just look at what happened with you and Ron.”

“You’re right, Harry. We were always meant to be friends.” She handed him his cloak and walked him to the door, accepting the quick kiss he placed on her cheek in farewell. Closing the door behind him, she allowed the rage she had bottled up explode from her outwardly calm demeanor.

“You’re a liar and a coward, Harry Potter,” she screamed at the closed door, her fists clenching at her sides. “If you think I believe that load of crap about you responding that way with any witch, well you have another think coming, mister. I know that you want me. Me. Hermione Granger. Your best friend. And that scares you to death. Scares me too. But not enough to run away from it. I don’t know what it’s going to take or what I’ll have to do, but I’ll prove it to you, Harry. I promise you that. I will prove it to you.”

She walked over to the table, picked up her wand and extinguished the candles with an angrily muttered Nox. Sleep, she knew, would be a hard fought commodity tonight, so she decided she might as well get some work done. Picking up a large stack of the files Sabrina had sent over, she carried them to her bedroom. The bundle of parchments hit her bed in a landslide, the book Sabrina had given her sliding unnoticed under her bed.

The chapter has ended.