Leaves Tangled in Her Hair

Harry sat cross-legged on the ground. Piles of brown and red leaves lay under him, cushioning the ground and crunching in a satisfying way as he moved. It was cold enough to wear his jacket, but not overly so. The smell of fall filled his nose, dried leaves and cool air. A soft breeze ruffled his black hair, lightly caressing, as if a phantom of a touch.

Harry coughed and spluttered as the leaves that he had so recently been admiring suddenly became his enemy as they were dumped from seemingly out of nowhere all over his head, clinging in his hair, to his shoulders, and in the hood of his jacket. He turned his head, his green eyes casting about suspiciously. In one swift movement, with Quidditch born reflexes, his hand shot out to the empty air. Bingo! He had grabbed a handful of silky material. He pulled and a striped hat appeared, quickly followed by brown curls, and a face wearing a mischievous grin.

"Hermione!" said Harry, making a dive to grab her, but she was too fast, and ran quickly in the other direction.

"You-are-so-dead!" Harry shouted as he leapt to his feet, chasing after her. She was laughing like a lunatic as she darted just out of his reach. He jumped towards her, grabbing her around the waist, tumbling to the ground and bringing her with him as they both rolled through the leaves, giggling like first years.

As they stopped rolling Harry fell forward, his face pressed against hers. He could feel her laughing against his cheek. Suddenly Harry no longer felt like laughing. He pulled back, looking at her. Her cheeks were flushed from the cool air and running, her eyes shone with laughter. Her hat had fallen off, and her brown curls were strewn wildly about her head, leaves tangled in them. She was beautiful. He inhaled. He was so close to her that the sweet scent of her hair wafted up to him. She smelled like flowers. It was a refreshing scent, the kind that made you want to lean in, close your eyes, and smell again.

Something awoke in Harry, something he had suppressed for years, and that for all that time being hidden rose even more strongly inside him now. It swept over him, filling him with the thing that he had really known since he had first seen her. He suddenly wanted nothing but Hermione, wanted only to look upon her laughing face, freckled and brown still from summer. Her brown dreamer's eyes, with their long framing lashes, and their intelligent shine. Her small nose, slightly turned up at the end. He wanted to be lost in her soft curls. He wanted to feel nothing else but the warmth of her body, her smooth skin.

Hardly knowing what he was doing, he did what seemed the only thing to do. He leaned forward and pressed his mouth to hers. It was warm and soft. He could feel the smile fade from her lips immediately they parted slightly in surprise. Then, shocking him nearly as much as he assumed he had shocked her, she was kissing him back. Her lips opening slightly to him, her small hands reaching around his neck, then tangling in his black hair, running through it in a somewhat desperate manner, as if she thought she would never get the chance to touch it again. She tasted of honey and cinnamon. His hands were on her neck, then her face, as he held her head to his. One hand strayed to her curls, stroking them, twining them softly around his fingers. The other hand went to her waist. Their bodies were pressed together. He wanted to melt into her, to never be anywhere but here.

Harry woke up suddenly, a smile still on his face. He couldn't remember what his dream had been, but it had been a good one. It left him feeling warm and happy inside, but somehow empty now. As if he had had something in the dream that was missing now, something he needed very much.

***

Hermione didn't want to open her eyes as she drifted out of sleep, trying to force herself back into the dream, back into the leaves with Harry. She sighed. It was no use. She was awake. She sat up, the happiness she had felt in her dream slowly draining out of her as she felt her hair -no leaves, no soft caressing hands. She swung her feet out of bed, they met the cold stone floor with an unpleasant shock. She stood up, determined to leave her dreams of Harry behind, buried beneath her sheets. They had no place out here. She grinned slightly to herself as she thought of what Harry would do if he had known what she was dreaming. He would either be horrified or very amused. The smile turned into a frown as she imagined him telling Ron, the two of them laughing and clutching their stomachs. No, he would never know.

She dressed quickly, and went to the door of her dormitory. She opened it, and there stood Harry, his hand raised in a fist, about to knock (or else he was going to deck her one, she preferred the latter). He smiled at the sight of her, his green eyes lighting up in a way that made her knees weak.

"Hey, Hermione, want to go outside for a bit?"