Bittersweet

"Hermione? What are you doing here?" asked Harry as he nervously ran his hand through his thick wet hair. He still stood in the doorway with a half confused, half amazed look on his face that Hermione was finding quite adorable.

"I...was...ummm..." was all Hermione could get out. She tried as hard as she could to look away but her eyes were glued to him. Damn it, Hermione thought, I sound (and look) like a blithering idiot! She let herself study him one last time before taking a second shot at talking. Okay, pull yourself together Granger. It's just Harry.

"I brought you dinner," Hermione whispered as she reluctantly got up to go to Harry's desk where she had left the food. As she turned away from him and began laying out the contents of his dinner, she heard the faint sound of the door closing. She felt her heart rate begin to accelerate as she heard Harry walk up behind her. Her throat went dry as he came closer and finally stood near enough behind her that she could smell the fresh scent of soap radiating off his body.

"Oh, you didn't have to do this Hermione, but I'm glad you did," Harry said as he peered over her shoulder to see what she had brought him. There were a couple slices of bread, two chicken drumsticks, some vegetables, a can of soda, and scalloped potatoes. Harry hadn't had food this good since his return from Hogwarts. "This all looks really good. Thanks."

"You're welcome," whispered Hermione in a voice that sounded nothing like her own. Oh God, Hermione thought, I hope he didn't notice that, but he did.

"Hermione, are you alright? You sound a bit winded," queried Harry. He noticed her silhouette against the shine of the moon. The way her chest was progressively rising and falling faster and faster. A faint crimson glow began to spread upon her cheeks as she fidgeted with the hem of her shirt. She turned herself slightly toward him and timidly looked up into his magnificent green eyes.

They're so green,

Hermione mused, so beautiful. She scanned his face. She noticed the angular features of his cheekbones, the sun-kissed glow that exuded from his skin, his lips, Oh, he has such beautiful lips. They were so seductive the way he slightly pouted them as he looked quizzically towards her; they were so innocent and untouched, almost like a child's.

Now Harry realized Hermione's "condition" so to speak, as he felt his mouth run dry and his heart beginning to thump loudly in his chest. He liked the way she looked up at him, the shy, vulnerable expression in her eyes. The ways her gaze beckoned him, even dared him to do something; anything. Harry slowly brought his hand up to her face and let it linger gently on her cheek. He nearly melted as he saw her bite her lip when he touched her. She seemed so exposed, her expression making her more naked than even the removal of her clothes could. Harry brushed his thumb over her soft lips and then let his hand slip down her neck. He deliberately swept his fingers along the nape of her neck, sending a shiver down her entire body. Hermione let out an involuntary gasp as Harry put his fingertips underneath her shirt, causing her to feel suddenly very unstable, particularly in her knees. He was staring into her so intently. Oh my God, he's going to kiss me. Just as Harry made a move towards her, a white owl soared in from the window and through the space between them. Both Harry and Hermione stumbled back in shock, Harry caught his footing just in time, and Hermione landed safely on his bed. Harry looked at her and had a rather enjoyable thought, but then his eyes turned to the owl and he dismissed it.

"Great timing Hedwig," Harry muttered to himself as he walked over to his snowy white owl. He brought his hand to her beak and she affectionately nipped it before allowing him to take the letter off that she had attached to her leg. Hermione got up and walked towards Harry and Hedwig.

"Who is it from?" Hermione asked in a bit of a raspy voice.

"Umm...," Harry began as he unrolled the piece of parchment to look.

"Ron."

They both suddenly felt very guilty. Harry tried to read the letter but the awkwardness of the moment enveloped him. He tried to keep a look of indifference on his face while Hermione attempted to casually stoke Hedwig with a rather shaky hand. They both stood like that for a moment until Hermione broke the silence.

"Well, um...I should go to bed now," she nervously started.

"Oh yeah, you should, o" Harry added hurriedly.

"Yeah, well, I best be off then...er, good night," said Hermione, though she made no movement towards the door. Harry sensed her reluctance and slowly headed towards the door. He quietly opened it as Hermione hesitantly began to make her way out of the room. Just as she was passing in front of him, Harry spoke.

"Hermione?"

"Yes, Harry?"

"Um, about what we...um...when Hedwig flew in...and...um...," Harry finally got out. Idiot, idiot, idiot!! Why'd you say that? Harry asked himself as he noticed how uncomfortable Hermione was beginning to look. "Um, I mean, thanks for the food," Harry supplemented quickly in attempt to alleviate her discomfort as well as some of his own. Hermione instantly relaxed and smiled back up at Harry, silently thanking him for not bringing "it" up.

"You're welcome," she beamed as the tension melted away, "What are friends for?" Harry smiled back.

"Well, good night then," said Harry to Hermione though his eyes kept wondering to the small gap between her skin and her shirt, he definitely liked being taller than her, the view was much better.

"Try to get to sleep before the Dursleys," Harry recommended. "If Uncle Vernon starts snoring, you might as well forget about sleep completely, he sounds like a bull dozer."

Hermione laughed, "Thanks for the advice Harry. Good night."

"Good night Hermione, and try and get some breast. I mean rest! Not breast ...because you already have breaaaaa, oh, sorry. Um, I mean no...you, um...crap!." Idiot, idiot, idiot!!! Thought Harry as he mentally kicked himself. Hermione rushed out of the room as she turned a brilliant shade of red. Harry looked behind her as she ran down the hall and turned into the guest bedroom. Ah, and the Potter charm works wonders again...

*****

Though she pretended to be asleep, Hermione lay awake for several hours that night, mulling over the events that had taken place. She thought of Harry, of course. She thought of how irresistible he had looked that night, clad only in a towel and that perfected look of innocence upon his face. With his wild black hair and deep green eyes driving her insane. She thought of his lean chest. Whatever happened to that skinny little boy I used to know? Harry's shoulders had broadened, his formerly thin waist had widened a bit to give him a more masculine air and his baby fat had been replaced by a firm and slightly sculpted (though not outwardly muscular) physique. And though most girls would have gone completely mad just thinking of his body, Hermione found herself thinking back to his lips. Harry had the most sensual lips Hermione had ever seen, even though the rest of his body had matured his lips remained tender and smooth. Oh, how sweet it would be to kiss those lips, admitted Hermione. She knew that it was wrong to want this but she couldn't help herself. His touch had felt so good against her skin, the way he had trailed his hand over her face and down her back left her feeling tingly all over. Hermione thought of how Harry's fingertips had ventured under her shirt to the soft skin he had never seen, she felt a shiver pass through her. It had been so intimate, so perfect.

No, no, no! You mustn't think like this.

Hermione chided herself. Harry is your friend, and only your friend. You can't feel like this towards him. It's Harry, only Harry. Though Hermione's brain tried to convince her she was not attracted to Harry, her body disagreed. She had never been with anyone like "that" before, it was by far the most intimate moment she had ever had. Well, why can't I be like "that" with Harry? part of her argued, Because you'll hurt Ron! her brain spat back. Oh no, Ron.

Of course after receiving Ron's letter Hermione had instantly thought of how unfair this would be to him, but she had been too preoccupied with thinking of the warm sensation Harry's hand had left on her body to really care. Now she thought of the consequences. He would be so hurt, she realized. We're his best friends, we're not supposed to hurt him. Hermione rationalized from Ron's behavior last year that he did indeed have a crush on her, and by the end of the year it had become quite obvious that the feeling was mutual. Though she would never admit it, she had done a considerable bit a daydreaming about the adorable Mr. Weasley over the summer. She had begun taking extra care in writing letters to him; writing very neatly, always trying to make little jokes or mention things she thought he would like, and scenting them every now and then didn't hurt either. He is really cute, and funny, and sweet, thought Hermione as she smiled to herself thinking of Ron. His friendly, trusting personality coupled with his red hair and boyish freckles was as cute as it was humanely possible to be. His voice had deepened considerably over the years and it drove her absolutely bonkers when he would let his eyes get all soft and call her `Mione. She really did like Ron, but then again, there was Harry. Oh, this isn't going to be easy, is it?

****

Harry, now dressed in his pajamas, was sitting at his desk absent mindedly sweeping off crumbs. His thoughts were currently occupied by a certain bushy haired girl. Hermione, what happened to you? True, he had always considered Hermione to be pretty, but never in an attractive way, just generally. But tonight she was so different, as if her beauty had been enhanced some how. As he sat there, he kept replaying that instant when Hermione bit her lip when he touched her. Without realizing it, she had drawn his attention to her mouth. He had never wanted to kiss someone so badly. It was almost painful to think about how close they had been just minutes ago and how distant they were now. His heart skipped a beat every time he thought of the little gasp she had let out, and though he didn't want to admit it, it turned him on a bit. How pathetic, Harry thought to himself, most guys have to watch porn to get turned on and all I need is a little gasp. I need to get out more.

Deciding to finish the rest of his Hermione-dreaming in bed, Harry got up and went to turn off his light. As he was walking towards the light switch, his gaze fell back to the letter that still lay unread. Harry picked it up, his heart beginning to fill with guilt, sat down on his bed and began to read.

Harry,

Hey mate, how are you? Hope the Muggles are feeding you well. If they aren't, don't worry too much, Mum's already beginning to fret over what to make for dinner when you arrive. She's going mad with worry over you. I thought she was going to attack Dumbledore when he said you couldn't come yet. I think I saw fear in his eyes as he spoke with her. Can't blame him though, I would be scared of her too.

You can come in two weeks' time, can't you? Hermione's coming then too. She's currently visiting some Muggles with her parents. Said she'd be there two weeks so there's no use in owling her. They live in Surrey, isn't that where you live? Anyway, the family's apparently only a husband and wife with a son (around sixteen). Might want to keep an eye open, you know, just in case. You know, because she won't know anyone there and probably won't have enough time to become friends with that Muggle boy, will she? Anyway, I have to go now, Fred and George colored Ginny's hair green and she just noticed. I can hear her screaming all the way up here.

Ron

Harry put the letter back down on the table. Normally he would have laughed at the twins' antics, but he was so overcome with a feeling of guilt that he headed straight for bed. As he lay there with his eyes closed, thinking of the events of that night, he tried to figure out an explanation for what had nearly happened. Well, they're always saying that teenagers' hormones are completely out of control, maybe that's what happened tonight, Harry wondered. Yeah, that's it. I'm a just a guy. What would any other guy have done in my position? Harry slowly led himself to believe that all that had happened was due purely to hormones. Besides, what really happened? He questioned himself. It's not like we kissed, or even hugged. Hell, we barely even touched. He smiled a bit in relief, thinking of what a big deal he had been making out of nothing. I'm not attracted to Hermione, she's just a friend. Nothing more, he rationalized. Then why did you almost kiss her? asked a voice in the back of his head. Harry's eyes flipped open and he sat up. It was true. After all, he did almost kiss her. What could he have almost done had Hedwig not flown in when she did? No, he shook his head, we would have never let it get that far. I would have stopped. He knew he was lying to himself, but couldn't admit to the truth. He couldn't let this happen. Next time anything happens, I'll just control myself, Harry declared to himself. After all, it's my body. I could have stopped, I just didn't. This WILL NOT happen again. No. Because I am not attracted to Hermione. He kept repeating this to himself until he was satisfied.

Pleased with his new "plan of non-action," Harry drifted off into a peaceful sleep and began dreaming of Hermione.