Marked

When Harry sat down for Potions class the next morning, he was still fighting off the affects of the potion he'd taken the night before--a combination of a deep sleep formula and a dreamless sleep concoction, the strength of which he felt was probably better suited to a nightmare-prone dragon than a fifteen-year-old boy with troubling thoughts. He knew better than to take the entire vial the next time. Even a nap during his mid-morning break hadn't seemed to make a dent in the haze. That was why, when Draco approached Harry, a tentative smile on his face, he couldn't tell if this was another alternate reality, a particularly slow-building nightmare or some complex combination of the two.

"Draco." Harry's voice was sluggish and resigned. "I promised Professor McGonagall I wasn't going to fight you or anyone else. So, if you're here to start up with me again about your dad, I'm not in the mood for it. Send me a Howler or something."

Draco frowned at Harry's dismissive manner, but stayed next to his chair as Harry began unpacking his supplies for class. "I'm not here to argue with you," he whispered. He shifted to the side as Hermione took the seat next to Harry, eyeing him suspiciously. "I just wanted to....apologize," he continued. Hermione swiveled on her chair to stare at Draco.

"Excuse me?" Harry said. He shook his head quickly. Now he knew he was dreaming. That, or he'd taken a stronger hit to the head the previous Saturday than he'd realized.

"I overreacted yesterday," Draco said in a firmer voice. "After speaking with Minister Dumbledore, I understand what happened to my father wasn't your fault."

"Are you're saying you didn't notice he was doing it right under your nose?" Hermione asked.

"What?" Draco looked at her and frowned. "What are you going on about?"

"I mean," she said, moving to stand between him and Harry. "He poisoned Harry at King's Cross station with a tainted bottle of butterbeer. Then your father followed Harry into the bathroom and hurt him because he wouldn't give him the parchment he'd stolen." She jabbed a finger in the direction of Draco's chest, stopping just short of touching him. "You were there the entire time."

Eyes widening, Draco looked at Harry over Hermione's shoulder. "You have to believe I didn't know anything about that."

"He doesn't have to accept anything you say," Hermione said, crossing her arms. Her eyes narrowed. "Including your so-called apology."

"Hermione, please stop." At the sound of Harry's whisper behind her, she frowned and moved to her seat again, sitting back to watch the rest of the conversation.

"I had no idea what my father was planning, I told you that over the summer." Draco shook his head. "I wasn't involved in what he tried to do to you or anything else since school started."

"I believe you," Harry said. "And I accept your apology."

Under Hermione's watchful gaze, Draco attempted a small smile. "So we're friends again?"

"Are you daft?" Hermione asked. At Harry's chiding look, she blew out a small puff of air and turned her back, reaching for her bag.

"We can talk later," Harry said. Draco nodded and headed into the far corner of the room to sit with Crabbe and Goyle.

"You'll have to explain what that was about later since you're so well-versed on Draco today," Harry whispered to Hermione.

She turned to him, one eyebrow raised. Harry was immediately reminded of Professor McGonagall. "I should think it's obvious," she said. "The little snake is up to something and he thinks you're the means to get it. If you trust him, so help me, I will slap you again."

Harry chuckled as the classroom door opened and closed behind them. "I've learned my lesson about listening to you, Hermione." He nodded in his direction as Ron took the seat on his other side. "I'll be safer if I just remember you're almost always right."

"Almost?" she asked.

Before Harry could respond, their new professor cleared his throat, drawing everyone's attention to the front of the room. His gaze on the green-eyed student at the front center table, the new professor smiled and said, "We didn't get a chance to meet the other day, Harry. I'm Professor Slughorn."

Harry took a sip from his pumpkin juice and eyed the plate of food that had seemed tasteless from the moment he'd tried to force it down. He knew the roast beef sandwich was fine--was, in fact, one of the best things they served at Hogwarts--but his nerves about his impending night with Hermione had disabled his ability to enjoy his lunch. His stomach was so unstable, he was surprised the little bit of food he had eaten hadn't made a reappearance. Feeling her gaze on him, Harry smiled at Hermione, sure he was about to get a lecture on his eating habits going the way of his sleep habits.

"What did you think of Professor Slughorn?" she asked.

Harry shrugged. "He's all right, I guess. The first class felt weird, though. I lost track of how many times he mentioned my mum." And Professor Snape, who Slughorn had said was one of the brightest students he'd ever taught.

"Four," Ron supplied from across the table. Neville snickered next to him.

"That was odd," Harry. "The way he was going on, you'd think he has a crush on her or something."

"Would you blame him?" Ron asked. "Your mum--" The sentence was cut short as Neville elbowed his best friend in the ribs.

"He told us yesterday she was one of his best students. He was upset that he hadn't made it in time to give her his condolences in person," Neville said, ignoring Ron's coughs next to him. "He'll probably stop bugging you about her soon."

"I hope so," Harry said. "I'd kind of like being out of the spotlight for once." He frowned down at his plate and pushed it to the center of the table. "Fat chance of that happening, though."

"Why do you say that?" Ron asked.

Harry shrugged. "My luck. Every time I think things are settling down, something new starts up."

"It won't always be that way," Hermione said.

Harry said nothing in response. He knew she couldn't be sure of that any more than she could be sure Draco wasn't going to help him in some way. He had been helpful while they'd been investigation Snape, even if Hermione didn't want to admit it. Not that he had a strong incentive to help Harry after all that had happened, but Harry wouldn't discount Draco from the equation--especially with Professor McGonagall and the Ministry to protect him if something went wrong. Assuming Hermione didn't hurt Draco first if the need arose.

A low murmur rose in the room as three owls flew in bearing packages. They landed on the table in front of Harry and waited expectantly as he shuffled through the pockets of his robes before pulling out a heavy bag of coins. After dropping the appropriate amount of money into the bags tied to their legs, each allowed him to untie his packages--one medium-sized, flat box; a small, square box and a larger box the size of his Herbology text, all with letters attached to them--before flying out through one of the open windows of the Great Hall. Harry's stomach relaxed a bit and he smiled before reaching for his glass to take another sip of juice.

"This is an odd time for mail. What did you order?" Hermione asked.

Harry shook his head. "Can't tell you."

"What do you mean, you can't tell me?"

"It's nothing, Hermione. Just some stuff I needed for this project I have to work on tonight."

"You have a project? For which class?"

When Harry looked at her, he noticed Lavender and Parvati on her other side, obviously waiting to hear the answer too. "Don't worry about it," he said smoothly. "I've just got this thing I need to work on after Quidditch practice. It's not a big deal."

She crossed her arms and frowned at him. "If it's not a big deal, why can't you tell me?"

Harry sighed. He hadn't counted on her inquisitive nature driving her to wheedle the surprise out of him before he had a chance to give it to her. She'd just have to spend the afternoon upset. He couldn't tell her what was in the boxes yet. "I promise to tell you everything you need to know after practice."

"Do you really have to go to practice tonight?" Hermione asked.

He frowned. Now she was being ridiculous. "Definitely. Angelina is worried we won't be ready for the first match. I already missed one practice when I was...away for the weekend," Harry said, eyeing Lavender as she listened. "Can we meet at our spot after practice? Say, an hour after?"

Hermione nodded, staring at her plate.

Harry reached for his bag under the table and stuffed the two smaller boxes into it. "I'll see you tonight, then?" She nodded again, not turning to look at him. "Happy birthday, Hermione." He kissed her on the cheek, grabbed the largest box and left to deposit all three boxes in his trunk before class.

Draco sat on the largest chair in the Slytherin common room, his cool gaze going out slowly over the room before him. The other students were going about their usual--homework, mindless chatter; Crabbe, Goyle and a few of the younger students were practicing hexes in the shadowed corner, their soft grunts and incantations kept muted by a few spells surrounding the area. Closing his eyes, Draco imagined he was sitting on a tall throne made of skulls, his right foot resting on the shiny, recently-acquired skull of one Harry Potter. Shifting his foot, he relished the smooth, marble-like texture of the bone beneath his shoe and the scraping sound his shoe made as he mimed grinding his heel onto the top of the traitor's skull.

A bit more morbid than his usual thoughts, surely, but Draco thought it was fitting to imagine the possibilities as he plotted his revenge. He probably wouldn't do something as crass as standing on Potter's bones, but betraying the trust of someone who didn't deserve his was at the top of a long list of plans Draco knew had to be carried forward with the utmost care to detail.

He just wished Aunt Bella had given him more to go on. In spite of her requests, he had no real idea what her plan was, and therefore, no idea what kind of information he needed to pass on. He wasn't about to write down Potter's every word. She could've contracted a house-elf for that. No, there had to be more to this mission than common secretarial work.

If it was important enough for the Minister to get personally involved, Draco deserved to know exactly what he was getting into. Especially in light of how it was most likely to end. He had no illusions about that. Dumbledore would hunt him down if he knew Draco was helping Bellatrix, or even if he knew they had a method of communication. If he was aware of nothing else, the Slytherin knew his days at Hogwarts--and maybe as a part of normal Wizarding society--would be numbered after he completed his mission, no matter how careful he was. He wasn't going to throw everything away for no reason, even if meant free reign to get his revenge on Potter before he left school.

Bellatrix had a vicious, unruly side to her the students and professors at Hogwarts had never seen. Even with Snape and his own father to reign her in, Draco knew her part of the previous plan--however obscure the idea was to him--was probably menial at best. With her in charge of the operations, how could he be sure his own best interests would be served once she got what she wanted? Of even more concern than that, how did he know Bella's mysterious plan would even work?

She'd already pushed for information, writing nearly a page asking what he'd already uncovered in the time since Professor's Snape funeral. He'd said little in response, merely that he was working on worming his way into Potter's trust, but he would have to get past Granger to get anywhere useful. He didn't mention the threat from Dumbledore, not only because it was his problem to deal with, but because his aunt would not care for his whining. For that matter, neither would he.

What he wanted was assurance that she might not be able to give him. There was too much at stake for Draco to jump in and do his aunt's bidding without a serious measure of disclosure on her part. If she wanted a servant to mindlessly do her bidding, she could very well order a house-elf to follow Potter and Longbottom and even the Minister himself until she got what she needed. If she needed a partner to help her carry out her plans, then Draco knew he would have to inform her of his terms. Information for information. Treat him as an equal, if he was as important to her plans and "protecting the family name" as she'd written in the book. Otherwise, he might have to consider Dumbledore's "offer" as a jumping off point for his own negotiations. Inwardly, he shuddered at the idea. But if Aunt Bella failed to produce something solid for him to rely on, Draco would do what he had to. He wouldn't have a choice.

Harry paced back and forth inside the Room of Requirement, mentally checking his list of everything he'd need to make the night perfect. He glanced at the table. Jewelry and other gifts, check. The fireplace and candles around the room, lit. He stopped pacing and turned to face the bed that had been silently mocking him since he'd stepped into this life. Clean sheets and an extra-soft mattress, conjured. Fixing up the small, boring slab into a slightly larger, cushy masterpiece had been the first thing he'd done upon coming into the room minutes before. Not that they'd get a chance to use it if he didn't get through his little prepared speech. Now that he thought of that--one Gryffindor about to stutter on about his feelings, present and scared out of his Dementor-fighting, sword-wielding, dragon-battling mind.

That other stuff he could do with his eyes closed. Looking Hermione in the eye while he opened up his heart? Right then it seemed scarier than walking into that dark maze at the end of the Triwizard tournament. At least Harry knew he could handle the machinations of a disguised Death Eater. Could he handle it if what he had to say to Hermione wasn't enough? Or worse, if she had given up on him by now? The way she'd been acting the past couple of days, he wouldn't be surprised if she was at least considering it.

There was something about her expression after he'd kissed her the day before--he wouldn't be shocked if she did tell him she was tired of waiting. It wouldn't be far-fetched to think she'd only stuck with him this long because he didn't really have anyone else. A noble sacrifice and all that. Of all people, pity from Hermione would wound him the most. He needed more from her, a lot more. He only hoped he could get her to believe it.

Hearing the door open behind him, Harry turned and smiled as Hermione came in, swiftly closing the door behind herself. She'd changed out of her school uniform into a thigh-length, curve-hugging black dress. Harry reminded himself to continue breathing as she walked across the room. He wanted to ask when she'd ever bought something so...so...he quickly realized there were no words. As she reached him, he bent down and kissed her on the cheek.

"You look amazing," Harry said.

Hermione nodded, blushing at the compliment. One hand went to push a lock of hair behind her ear. "Thank you. I wasn't sure if I should change at all, but Ron insisted I wear something nice for you." She shook her head and Harry noticed that she'd spent time taming the thick locks. The normally bushy curls now fell in mostly calm waves to the center of her back. "I feel silly for not realizing earlier you were trying to plan something for me."

"You're not silly," Harry said. "Just impossible to surprise."

She grinned. "Not impossible. I promise Ron didn't tell me what you have planned," she said, glancing around the room.

"He doesn't know," Harry said. He gestured to a chair at the table. "Sit down and get comfortable. There's a lot I want to say."

"Ooh, a talk?" Hermione said. Her nervous laughter trilled throughout the room as she sat at the table. "It must be serious if it deserves a talk."

"Depends on how you look at it," Harry responded. He sat across from her and mentally went over the speech he'd been writing in his head in classes the entire day. None of his beginnings sounded right. He'd be better off starting with the gifts he'd ordered the night before. He reached across the table and picked up one of the packages he'd received earlier, still wrapped in the plain brown paper from the store.

"Here," Harry said, handing the bundle to her. "Sorry I haven't quite learned how to transfigure the paper into something nicer yet."

"That's fine," Hermione said, accepting the package. "Makes it easier to do this," she remarked, ripping the paper open. "Practical Defensive Magic and its Use Against the Dark Arts," she read from the cover. She looked up at him. "Why do I need this if I have you around to protect me?"

It was a struggle, but he kept himself from laughing. She was definitely a change from the Hermione who'd told him he had a saving-people thing. "I thought about giving you the Lockhart book in my trunk, but I didn't want to be responsible for you dying laughing." He grinned at her. "Sirius and Professor Lupin gave me this for Christmas and it's really helpful. Professor McGonagall is going to let me train Neville and a lot of what we'll be doing is going to come from this book."

Harry shrugged. "You'll be practicing with us sometimes, but I know you like reading the theories behind things like this. Besides, I'm not always able to protect people, even when I want to be," he added, his thoughts suddenly turning to Cedric and Sirius--who he'd had to travel back in time to save his third year when he couldn't accomplish it the first time..

"I see," Hermione said. She clutched the book to her chest and forced a small smile. "It was a wonderful thought, Harry. I'm sure it will come in handy someday," she said quietly.

Noticing her change in tone, Harry frowned. "You don't like it? I'd considered giving you a different kind of book, but I thought you might appreciate something more practical. Obviously, it would be better if you never had to use any of it," he babbled, "but I wanted to be sure you could always protect yourself." Her smile turning into a small frown, Hermione stood from the table, still clutching the book tightly to her chest. "What's wrong?"

"It's...nothing, Harry." Hermione looked down briefly. "Thank you for the book. I should go." She brushed past him and walked quickly to the door.

"Hermione, wait!" Harry caught up with her just as she reached for the door handle. "Don't leave," Harry said. She turned to face him. He could hardly tell in the light, but he hoped she hadn't started crying. He knew then he couldn't wait any longer. He had to say something. Honestly seemed like the best option. "I don't know what to do here. This is really hard for me."

"I know," Hermione said softly. She turned halfway to the door, took a step, then stopped again. "Don't stress yourself out. You have more than enough to worry about." A hand on her shoulder stopped her from moving further.

"I'm not thinking about anything else but you right now." He pulled her away from the door until she stood before him, frowning. "I've screwed up with you, haven't I?"

Her eyes dropped. "No. I know I've been a crazy person lately, but you don't have to worry about it. Maybe you were right. I have been rushing you to feel a certain way because it's what I need from you," she said. She crossed her arms and shifted the book in her hand. Hermione's eyes stayed glued to the floor. "I'm sorry I've been so selfish," she whispered.

"I think it's more important for you to concentrate on what you're going to do about You-Know-Who and the prophecy instead of trying to give me what I want. You need all of your energy to focus and I've been trying to get you to put my needs ahead of so many other things. You're not ready and I'm prepared to live with that." She turned to walk past him again and Harry grabbed her arm, pulling her back to him in one swift move.

"Harry--"

"Hermione, just listen or I'll never get this out." At her sigh, he added, "I didn't mean for it to come out like that. Just...it seems like we're at cross-purposes. I brought you in here so I could tell you why I've been acting a little strange the past couple of days."

"I think I know," she said. She continued to look away from him.

"No, you don't, or you wouldn't be quite so upset." She looked up then and Harry could tell from her expression she was ready to disagree with that assessment. He took a deep breath and pulled Hermione into his arms. She was stiff, but let him hold her. "I've been struggling the past few days because I didn't know how to tell you..." He stopped and then bent to whisper in her ear.

Hermione giggled and pulled away from him. The way her face was lit made her more beautiful than he could ever remember seeing. "I'm sorry, I didn't catch that. Could you say it a bit louder?"

Blushing, Harry pulled her close again and kissed her. He felt her relax in his arms and some of his own tension eased; a different kind of energy seemed to flow through him as they kissed. After a long moment, he reluctantly let her go. Looking into her eyes again, he knew his timing had been perfect. "You're not really going to make me say it out loud, are you?"

Hermione grinned as if she was debating torturing him with the request. "If you can't say it out loud," she began, "I don't know if I can believe you. After all, you've been fighting me all this time."

"A pretty useless pursuit, though it took me a while to figure that out. Good thing you're determined when you want something." Harry grinned briefly before his face took on a serious expression. He looked into her eyes to gather his courage before he began speaking again. "You love me and I don't think I really knew what that means until recently. If you're not constantly worried about me or force feeding me--" he stopped to roll his eyes and Hermione smiled-- "you're doing everything you can to keep me sane, to make me happy." He smiled and raised one hand to slowly stroke her cheek with the backs of his fingers.

"I've gotten so used to you looking out for me in every way, it never occurred to me that all of it was a part of the same thing for you--loving me. I thought feeling protective about you was pretty much the same and being attracted to you now wouldn't do much to change the whole brother-sister thing I'd felt before."

Hermione dropped her arms to her sides and took a step back. "This is supposed to confirm to me that your feelings have changed?"

"I'm getting there," he said, smiling at her impatience. Harry raised a hand to scratch at the back of his head and shuffled his feet as he searched through the rest of the thoughts that had been swirling in his mind since the first time she'd kissed him. It was hard to concentrate with her staring at him like that, especially knowing she'd been about to run out on him minutes before.

"It never occurred to me that all of my other feelings, plus being attracted to you, was a lot more than I'd ever felt about Cho--or any other girl. It took until recently to figure out that's what you've been trying to explain to me, that we didn't need anything more than that. I'd been beating myself up all this time and it really was that simple." He rolled his eyes again. "I had this idea that love was only this confusing, complicated adult thing and I didn't see it doesn't always have to be like that.

"Of course, my fighting you every step of the way was because I didn't know how to deal with not thinking of you in a sisterly way. It doesn't matter what happens from here on out, I'll never be able to think of you that way again. I'm happy about that, even if you think you were just being selfish. You've been trying so hard to do things that will make me happy and I want to do the same for you." He took another deep breath. "I know waiting for me to figure things out has been hard on you, but I had to let you know how much I need you in my own time."

Hermione grinned and stepped close again. Close enough that he could smell her light perfume. Harry smiled down into her eyes and quickly forgot what he'd been planning to say next. The book dropped from her hand and Hermione reached up, pulling Harry into a deep kiss that left him with shaking hands when she pulled away.

"Thank you," she whispered.

"For what?"

"For saying all of that," Hermione responded. "You have no idea how much I needed to hear it."

"I think I do," Harry said. "I needed to say it too. I feel like a weight has been lifted off me and I can't even say when I..." He stopped, giving himself a few seconds to mirror Hermione's smile. "Is it normal for it to be this intense? I mean, at our age?"

Hermione shrugged. "I don't think anyone can say what's normal, but I don't think there's anything wrong with how we feel about each other." She smiled. "I love saying it that way, how we feel about each other."

A corner of his mouth lifted in a small smile. "I'm kind of surprised you didn't lose your patience with me long before now." His hands moved from her back to settle low on her hips. He laughed softly as a thought came to him. "It's no wonder they told me to say it out loud, that whole confession never would've fit on a card."

Hermione blinked in surprise. "You got advice from someone about talking to me?"

"I--" He stopped and nodded, not wanting to speak further on the off chance he might accidentally let her know the extent of the advice. He didn't think she'd appreciate the talk, much as Harry hoped she would benefit from it.

Hermione smiled as she leaned up to kiss him again. "That's so sweet. You really were worried."

"Yes," Harry said. "I don't want to lose you. You do know that now, right? You're sure of my feelings?"

Hermione nodded and kissed him briefly on the lips again. "As long as you're sure of them and don't feel as if I've pressured--"

"Hermione, you need to learn when to stop talking." At her affronted gasp, Harry leaned down to kiss her again, considering it a short lesson in communicating without words, something they'd perfected as friends in his previous life. Thinking of the possibilities of where this communication could lead, Harry decided he much preferred this method. Especially when he slipped his hands low and squeezed and she made that little moaning sound in the back of her throat.

"I have something else for you," he said. Quite a few things if the night goes as planned, he thought.

"Really?" She licked her lips and smiled up at him. "This has been more than enough," Hermione responded. She leaned up on her toes and kissed him. "There's nothing more I could want for my birthday."

"I hope I can change your mind about that," he said. Taking her hand in his, Harry led her back to the table, scooping up the book he'd bought on the way. When she was settled, he said, "I hope you respond to the rest of my gifts better than you did the first."

Hermione laughed. "I'm sorry, but you have no idea how nervous I've been for days. I thought sure you were going to break up with me so you could run off and save us all from You-Know-Who." Her giggling stopped and she regarded him seriously. "This time, I would've let you."

"I know," Harry said. "But I don't need to choose which one to focus on. It'll be easier to face him if I have you by my side." He smiled. "Speaking of giving you my heart..." His grin widened at her immediate giggle. Harry didn't mind. He was in the mood to say goofy things. Harry pulled a small black jewelry box from his pocket and held it out to her. Hermione's eyes widened and her mouth formed into a small 'O' as she stared at the box. When she didn't take it from him, Harry frowned. "What's wrong?"

Hermione looked up at him and opened and closed her mouth soundlessly a few times. After a few seconds, she seemed to gather herself enough to attempt speech. "I--" She stopped again, then stared at the box as if it were going to bite her.

Harry laughed, finally figuring out why she was so shocked. If he'd known that was all it took to make her nearly speechless... "It's not an engagement ring, Hermione. Relax."

She blew out a heavy breath and took the box from his hand. "Not that I don't care about you a lot, but--"
"I understand. Open it."

She lifted the lid on the small box and gasped. Fingers trembling, Hermione pulled the necklace from the box, smiling as the two-inch clear crystal heart caught the light from the candles on the table and refracted it around the room. "It's beautiful," she breathed.

"It's charmed," he said, standing to put it on for her. When he sat again, Harry said, "It's called the Vires Charm. I've already set it for me, but I need to set it for you." Harry tried not to laugh. Hermione was staring down at his gift and wiping at the side of her face with one hand. He didn't know if she'd heard a word he'd said. When he placed the tip of his wand on the crystal, Hermione looked up at him, finally remembering he was there. He said the incantation and then motioned to Hermione with his other hand. "Say something."

"I love you." She looked down at the necklace again and grinned. "It's beautiful," she repeated. "What is it supposed to do?"

"The letter from the jeweler said as long as the charm is active, it will enhance how we experience our feelings for each other. I should say, we'll each feel what the other feels. We can turn it off at anytime or leave it. After a while, it'll be so attuned to us we won't need wands to use it."

Hermione frowned. "How exactly will it work? I thought a charm like that would only work directly on a person for a limited amount of time."

Harry shrugged. "She said it was a traditional Valentine's Day gift and their most popular product." He touched the crystal heart with one finger, watching the light dance across its surface. "We could test it out."

"How would we do that?"

Scarcely had she gotten her question out than Harry leaned over to kiss her, slipping his hand to her thigh. She moaned in surprise. When he pulled away, Harry looked at her in question.

"That was...wow," Hermione said; she took several large breaths, her eyes wide.

Harry glanced at the necklace, a skeptical frown on his face. "Are you sure it did something? I didn't feel anything." When Hermione frowned, he added, "No more than the usual."

"It may only work for me because I was wearing it when you did the spell. Do the charm for yourself again." After he complied, she pulled him forward into another kiss. Harry nearly fell to the floor with its initial impact. As Hermione's hands moved over his hair and her lips glided over his, it felt as if every nerve in his body had suddenly come alive and begun thrumming with intense pleasure. If this is what she was feeling now, Harry wasn't sure going further wouldn't give him a heart attack.

Pulling away from the kiss, Hermione said breathlessly, "I can't wait to see what else you got me for my birthday." She put a hand on his wrist. A small jolt shot up his arm at the contact. "Show me."

Harry swallowed hard. He would have to turn the charm off before she got too excited. He wouldn't be able to walk around the castle with his body tingling this way, let alone go to sleep later. Or anything else he still wanted to do before the night was over.

He reached for the largest box and held it out to her. "I wasn't sure about this. I think most people go for plain chocolates or something traditional like that, but I wanted to try something different. Mr. Flume said these are his wife's favorites."

Hermione smiled as she peeled back the paper from the box. "Honeydukes, hmm? You could've gotten me chocolates from there. Ooh, the box is cold," she remarked, removing the rest of the paper and settling the box on her lap.

"The charm is to keep them fresh for a few days," Harry said, motioning for her to lift the lid.

"Ooh, chocolate-dipped strawberries! They're big, too." Hermione grinned up at him and held the box out. "You have to feed them to me." She licked her lips and leaned forward, mouth open.

After moving his chair next to hers, Harry lifted a strawberry from the box and held it out to her; his thoughts and heartbeat raced as her lips wrapped around the fruit. She closed her eyes and hummed in pleasure as she bit down, licking the juice from her lips before chewing and swallowing. Hermione finished off the fruit in his hand quickly before urging Harry to pick up another.

As she bit into the second strawberry, she grabbed his wrist and held it in place. Finishing this strawberry just as quickly as the first, Hermione licked the dripping juice from his fingers before turning a wicked smile on Harry. "You really have to taste these," she said. "They're delicious."

Eyeing the spot of chocolate on the side of her mouth, he nodded. "I intend to find that out for myself." Harry dropped the box to the table and planted his lips on hers; he had to grip his chair when the charm added its influence on the moment. After a minute, Harry couldn't tell what was more intoxicating--the fruit and chocolate or her own sweetness as he explored it with his tongue. Panting, he pulled away from her and fumbled in his pocket for his wand.

"The uh..." He motioned to the necklace and Hermione nodded, holding it out so he could end the effects of the charm. "Now that we've got it working, the sparks coming from that thing are likely to set the room on fire."

Hermione giggled and put a hand on Harry's knee. "It's not the charm doing that, Harry. The only thing making me this hot is you. The spell just serves to heighten what we already feel. Personally, I like the way the crystal works."

Nodding, Harry kissed her again, surprised what he felt from this kiss wasn't too far from what he'd felt when the charm was still working. He supposed it was the mixture of her perfume, the tastes of sweets still on her tongue and the way Hermione's hand kept making slow circular sweeps up his thigh as he moved closer, until he was practically on top of her chair.

Separating their lips, Hermione said, "We should move." Harry nodded. "To the sofa," she added.

He shook his head and smiled. "To the bed."

"I--what?" Her eyes widened and her hand went still on his leg.

If she hadn't been teasing him almost constantly for two weeks, he might have felt sorry for putting the comically surprised expression on Hermione's face. As it was, he could barely keep his voice steady as he responded to her half-formed question.

"There's nothing I want more right now than to be with you," Harry said quietly. "If you still want that."

"Wait...right now? Just like that?"

Harry chuckled. "I hope it's not over just like that, but yeah. Now." He leaned over to kiss her then and felt an immediate flood of relief when she kissed him back.

It couldn't have been more than a heartbeat later when they found themselves stretched out on the enlarged bed, Hermione's eyes wide on Harry's face as she faced the realization of what she'd been wishing for. She was glad she'd quickly cast a charm to keep herself from feeling any pain and another for contraception. She had the feeling she'd soon be too far gone to remember anything outside of wanting Harry.

From the first moment Harry began kissing her neck, Hermione felt a bundle of nerves tighten in her stomach. She didn't want to ruin their first time, but she couldn't help closing her eyes and stiffening under his touch. It didn't make any sense. She'd been longing to be with him this way for what seemed like forever and all she could think of now was how horrifying it would be if she had been wrong and what they could have wouldn't be enough for him. Her growing sense of horror increased when Harry stopped kissing her and whispered her name softly, inviting, teasing.

His hand moved to her waist and then he whispered her name again. This time his voice was begging, tugging at the knot of apprehension until she felt it loosen the barest amount. Hermione opened her eyes and looked at her boyfriend. His bright green eyes were filled with a myriad of emotions, but concern for her had taken the forefront.

Hermione had no idea what was stopping her, she just knew getting what she wanted had seemed such a long way off before he'd finally agreed. She hadn't had time to even think of what she wanted beyond a vague idea of their being together. The knowledge that it was finally happening was so exhilarating and amazing and scary she could barely wrap her mind around it, let alone make herself believe she could please him this way without the bravado that normally took over when she was with him. Her nerves had picked a fine time to desert her.

"Are you okay?" Harry asked. He glanced down the bed at their naked bodies, a smile briefly touching his lips. "I understand if I'm intimidating to you. If you want to, we can stop here. I promise not to tease you later. Not too much."

Unable to stop herself, Hermione grinned. "You'd never let me forget it," she remarked. Nor would she stop calling herself eleven kinds of fool if she let this moment get away unfulfilled. She loved him. There was nothing to fear. Hermione placed a hand on his arm at her waist. "I don't want to stop. Just go slow, all right?"

Harry nodded and then his lips were on hers, his tongue softly questing until she opened up to him, sighing as he joined their mouths deeper. It was slow as she'd requested, achingly tender, and Hermione fought the urge to grab Harry by the hair and force him to put an end to the torture he was just starting.

A while later, they separated and Harry fell back onto the bed panting, an arm across his chest as he tried to regain his breath.

"It's your fault, you know."

It took Hermione a few moments to register Harry's words. She frowned. Had she really been that bad? From her perspective it had been...well, not anything near what Harry could be complaining about. She turned to him, her brow furrowed in concern. "What is?"

"You--" He swallowed hard. "The way you were touching me. The sounds you were making. It was a wonder I controlled myself as long as I had."

After taking a moment to breathe a sigh of relief, Hermione managed a chuckle. "I hate to ruin your little blame party, but it was you driving me to distraction." She moved to plant her chin in the middle of his chest. One hand adjusted to rest low on his stomach. A leg slid up to rub between his. At the result, Hermione smiled. "I see you're ready again. How about we ignore what I said earlier about going slow? If you can handle that."

A low growl was the closest she got to a vocal response as Harry flipped her onto her back on the mattress, pinning her hands over her head in the process.

He'd lost track of how much time had passed, but as she lay in his arms some time later, her body warming his chest, her hair tickling the crook of one arm, Harry found the courage to say the words aloud as Hermione slept. He pulled his arms tight around her, brushed her hair away from her face and whispered, "I love you."