Disclaimer: All things Harry Potter-related belong to JK Rowling, lucky woman.
Author's Note: The title was inspired by Lissanne's lovely little NC-17 piece of the same name, posted on her Yahoo!group pgw_underground.
Their Little Secret
Prologue: Something Irresistible
It was their little secret.
They met at least once a week. Sometimes he would Apparate to her flat; sometimes she would Apparate to his. Sometimes they met at what they called their "usual place", a pub called the Red Lion. He usually wore a hat to cover his scar; even if they were in Muggle London far from the Leaky Cauldron and Diagon Alley, he preferred to avoid te curious glances his scar tended to attract.
Today was no different.
A nondescript tawny owl arrived just before lunch with a note saying only, Seven at the usual place.
She replied promptly writing, Yes, at the bottom of the note and sending the owl back.
All in the space of two minutes and without the least change in expression to indicate the anticipation she felt.
She arrived at the Red Lion four minutes to spare and walked in. She saw him immediately but deliberately headed instead to the bar for a drink first. Finally she approached him saying only, "Hello" in an offhand manner, even as their eyes met and she felt the familiar spark pass between them. They chatted casually for 20 minutes, even as their eyes communicated all that their lips didn't say, before leaving separately. He was waiting for her in the dimly-lit alley behind the pub, waiting to pull her into his arms and kiss her hard. The way she'd been wanting him to from the moment she saw him.
She knew his taste now, his smell. His hands were pressed to her back and one hand slid down to her bottom to bring her hips closer to him. Her arms were around his neck, her fingers tangling themselves in his messy hair. She heard a gasping moan hardly realizing that it came from her, as she arched against him, trying to get even closer to him.
It still amazed her sometimes, this passion between them, this need for each other. It had been so sudden, a flare of attraction, of awareness, between them. After so many years of a purely platonic friendship, their relationship had changed in one moment.
At first it had been the new physical aspect of their relationship that just seemed to be added on to their existing one but over the weeks it had changed. Evolved.
This wasn't just a physical affair and it wasn't going to die out.
This was real, different. She didn't know if she'd call it love yet but in these moments when he kissed her and she thought she wanted to stay in his arms forever, what she felt was frighteningly close to love.
She was falling in love with her best friend.
It had started with such an ordinary thing. They had said goodbye to Ron after having dinner at the Burrow for Mrs. Weasley's birthday, and Harry had walked her back to her flat. He had said something that made her laugh and she had smiled up at him and their eyes had met in the dimness of the front hallway of her flat and she'd felt something-- a spark, a flash of awareness pass between them. She knew he felt it too because his eyes widened slightly and then he had bent his head and his lips were on hers, tentatively at first, but it had quickly exploded into a hard meeting of lips and tongues. And she had realized that lust had come a-calling at some point in the past few seconds. Lust for her best friend, for Harry. Unexpected. Undeniable. Irresistible.
At first she had been able to rationalize it as being just lust; they were after all healthy red-blooded young people. But she had never been good at lying to herself and all too soon she had had to acknowledge that this was more than lust. All her other feelings for Harry, the ones she'd had for years as his best friend- caring about him, liking to be with him, trusting him- they still existed, as strong as ever, just with the new added component of wanting him.
Now, in his arms, she realized yet again that this wasn't just lust. It was much more than simple lust…
Harry was the first one to end the kiss, both of them breathing hard, their faces flushed. "We should go eat. I made reservations for 7:45 at the Havens," he said finally, naming one of their favorite Muggle restaurants.
She toyed with her lower lip with her teeth, sending him a teasingly flirtatious look from beneath her lashes. "I'd rather have you for dinner." A small part of her still couldn't believe it was her saying and doing these things. If anyone had ever told her even as little as 6 months ago that she'd be having a secret liaison with a man, flirting with him and acknowledging her desire openly like this, she'd have laughed them to scorn. But this was Harry. He was different. With him, there was no need for inhibitions or reservations. She could say what she felt openly. He knew her so well and accepted her for who she was, every little thing about her. She sometimes though that this was why it was so good between them. There was so much trust between them, so much openness; she could tell him what she wanted without fear and she knew he felt the same.
Harry groaned softly. "Temptress," he accused with a smile. He gave her a quick, hard kiss, before drawing back to smile lazily, what Hermione thought of as his bedroom smile. "You can have me for dessert."
Hermione gave him another smile. "I can't wait," she said, half-teasingly, half-seriously. "Let's go. I'm famished." She gave him another look from beneath her lashes, her voice dropping to a whisper. "And not just for food."
Harry laughed softly as he took her hand and led her out of the alley.
Their flirtatious banter and the desire he still felt notwithstanding, he felt a sense of contentment, of calm, fall over him just from walking like this, holding hands with Hermione.
It was this feeling, the comfortable silences when they were simply holding hands, that he looked forward to, nearly as much as his body anticipated being near her, being able to touch her again. It was the way being with her moved not only his body but his heart; whatever he felt for Hermione, and he hadn't tried to analyze it yet, was much more than simple desire.
He wondered sometimes why they had kept this change in their relationship secret from everyone. It had been something of an unspoken agreement that they wanted to keep this to themselves and somehow it had developed into a full-fledged secret affair.
He had to admit that there was something thrilling about the secrecy, something delightfully seductive about knowing that there was this shared secret between them when they met socially with Ron or the other Weasleys.
More seriously, he supposed it had to do with his dislike for the media and their intrusive interest into his private life. Even now, not a week went by without the media reporting that he was involved with one or another witch, some of whom he had never even met in person. He had never really had a private life, from his 4th year at Hogwarts when Rita Skeeter had invented one for him and part of him wanted to keep this new relationship with Hermione just between them for as long as he could. It was still so relatively new, so- precious. He hated the idea of the media hounding him and Hermione with questions about their relationship, the thought of being followed and watched when they went out. For this brief space of time, and he didn't fool himself into thinking this secrecy could last very long given the media's endless fascination with his private life, he wanted this part of his life to remain private, just his and Hermione's.
Their not-so-little secret.