Unofficial Portkey Archive

IT'S ONLY PRETEND

Digging for the Truth

Chapter Eight

When Harry and Hermione returned from breakfast the following morning, a note had been slid beneath the door. Hermione grunted as she leaned over and picked it up.

"From the Morgans?" he asked, walking across the room and sitting on the edge of the bed.

Hermione frowned as she slid her finger beneath the fold on the sealed envelope and popped it open. She pulled the letter out and rolled her eyes.

"The Sevilles?" he asked as he watched the emotions change on her face. She looked annoyed.

"No. It's from Norman," she sighed.

"Who?" he asked, briefly wondering why the name sounded so familiar.

"Norman Stone. My boss," she replied as she perused the letter. "He wants to know how the investigation is going and wants to make sure I'm not wasting the company's money on frivolous activities."

"Like getting sloshed in the lounge while playing a mean game of cards?" Harry asked playfully.

She shook her head dismissively. "What should I tell him?" she asked, looking up at him and dangling the letter in her hand.

"Tell him the investigation is going according to plan. You have been gathering information--"
"--and getting sloshed while playing a mean game of cards," she said, finally smiling at him.

He patted the bed beside him, and she walked over to sit down. "Oh, no worries. That's all part of our pretend identities."

"Is it?" she asked, raising an eyebrow teasingly.

"Of course."

She sighed and placed the letter on the bed beside her. She tried not to worry about what the outcome of this investigation would be--on her business life or her personal life. Then she looked over at him seriously. "Don't you ever worry about anything, Harry?"

His smile faded, and he glanced down at the floor before answering. "I spent the majority of my life worrying, Hermione. I didn't have a choice. Now...now I don't have to worry about someone constantly trying to kill me or my friends--"

"--I know. I was there with you." She patted his leg with her hand in an affectionate manner.

He placed his hand on top of hers and met her gaze, squeezing her hand lightly. "Every step of the way." And he grinned.

"Just as I should have I been," she answered, smiling back at him.

"Just where I wanted you to be," he replied honestly and suddenly, Hermione's stomach began somersaulting relentlessly.

For a painfully long, exhilarating second Hermione felt sure Harry was going to kiss her. His body was leaning towards her, and she wasn't going to stop him. But the sound of a note sliding beneath the door had them both turning their heads.

Hermione heard Harry sigh before he said, "Probably a note about today's plans."

"Yeah," she said, not wanting to stand up but doing so anyway.

She walked over and picked up the folded note. She opened it and nodded at Harry.

"It's from the Morgans. You're supposed to meet the men at ten in the Gentlemen's Quarters on the sixth floor. I'm meeting the woman at the spa located just off from the lobby. Oh joy, I can hardly wait," she said sarcastically, tossing the letter towards Harry.

"You never know, you might have a good time...getting pampered and such," he said, looking over the letter.

"Possibly. Don't forget to pay close attention to what the Sevilles talk about," Hermione said as she checked her reflection in the mirror.

"Don't worry, wifey, I'll be the perfect little spy for you," he said, winking and she couldn't help but laugh.

"Wifey?" she asked.

Harry shrugged. "Kind of unique, don't you think?"

"Sure," she said teasingly. "What kind of cute pet name can I call you?" Hermione ran her fingers through her hair, trying to straighten out the unruly pieces as she looked in the mirror.

"Lover?" he asked cautiously, and Hermione's hand movements stopped immediately.

"What?" she squeaked.

Then, Harry grinned at her. "Don't look so pale. It was a joke," he said as he stood up and walked into the bathroom, closing the door behind him.

She waited until he was gone to release the breath she'd been holding.

Lover? she thought, trying to slow her frantic heart. It had a nice ring to it, didn't it? She sighed and shook her head. No. Harry is my friend. Onlymy friend. Right?

* * * *

In room 263 Victor was crossing his arms and staring into the fireplace. A gleam of triumph curled his lips into a smile.

"You're certain the papers will be undetectable?" Victor asked, looking closely at Brewer. "Morgan won't be able to tell they've been falsified? He won't be able to detect anything?"

"Not unless you tell him," Brewer replied in a raspy voice. "And I doubt you're going to do that. He won't know the difference. The papers will look legal and binding. They will be binding," Brewer laughed, "and not exactly illegal, but what Morgan doesn't know won't hurt him."

"Are you certain nothing can go wrong?" Victor pushed.

"This plan is foolproof. Nothing is going to happen. You worry too much, Vic," Brewer said.

"I just can't afford to lose this deal. We're talking about a lot of money here, Brewer."

"Believe me, I know," he replied greedily, "because some of it's going to be mine."

"Yes. If this plans works accordingly, you'll be a wealthy bastard," Victor grinned.

"Good. I've always been a bastard, but it will be nice to be something different."

"Okay. Send the papers as soon as you can. I'll get Morgan to sign them and we'll seal this deal."

"Let me know when you get them." And Brewer's head disappeared from the fire.

Victor took a moment to sigh. He rubbed the bridge of his nose and stood up while reassuring the doubts in his mind that everything would be fine. The only way they could screw up this deal would be if Morgan was a mind reader, and clearly he wasn't--or he would have long ago fled.

* * * *

Hermione walked through the lobby and wound her way around the people and toward the spa. She stopped outside two gleaming silver doors with a sign hanging down that displayed the name of the spa. Madame Gita's Heavenly Adventure.

Hermione gripped the long silver handle on the right side door and pulled it open. A youthful witch was standing behind a receptionist's desk; she glanced up as Hermione entered.

"Good morning," she greeted.

"Good morning. I'm supposed to be meeting Cynthia Morgan," Hermione began.

"Oh yes, of course. You must be Mrs. Parker." The witch leaned over and spoke into a square object on her desk. "Maria, Mrs. Julianna Parker is here to join the Sevilles." She looked back up at Hermione. "Maria will be here momentarily and lead you to the rest of your party."

"Thank you," Hermione replied.

In a moment the girl Hermione presumed to be Maria appeared. She beckoned Hermione to follow her down a long tiled hallway. They passed many closed doors, some of which had warm white steam creeping out through the bottom. When they stopped, Maria pushed open a door and stood to the side while Hermione stepped in.

Instantly, she saw the Sevilles, Beatrice, Victoria and Plumeria, but Cynthia was the one who spoke up first.

"Oh, Julianna, I'm so glad you've decided to join us. You're just in time to start the facial. This table is for you," she said, reaching over and patting the long cushioned table beside hers.

"Do I need to change?" Hermione asked, feeling her cheeks flush. They were all wrapped in white towels, obviously naked beneath.

"Of course you have to change," Victoria said incredulously.

Without thinking, Hermione glared at her. She quickly forced a smile and said, "This is my first time."

"Of course it is," Beatrice said in her saccharine voice. Then, looking at Victoria she added, "Not everyone is familiar with our sort of lifestyle, Victoria. We must be patient."

Hermione fought the urge to roll her eyes.

Cynthia looked at her; a twinkle in her eye was tugging her lips into an amused smile. "The changing room is right over there," she pointed, "and there are more towels. They wrap around your body instantly with no worry of falling off. They're the best invention since the microwave oven."

"What's a macronave oven?" Victoria asked, wrinkling her face in an unattractive manner.

Hermione caught Cynthia's eyes, and they both smiled. "Oh, it's a brilliant invention. But you would have to have read books covering topics other than fashion," Hermione said sweetly to Victoria while walking toward the changing room. "Not everyone is accustomed to a lifestyle that incorporates reading. It's understandable." And she closed the changing room door as Victoria frowned.

* * * *

Harry walked into the Gentlemen's Quarters and could instantly smell the cigars and scotch. The Sevilles weren't hard to spot or hear. From what Harry could gather, Victor was in the middle of a rowdy joke. Gavin was laughing loudly, and Nathan chuckled in amusement.

"Jonathan!" Nathan called, turning to see Harry walking in their direction as Victor finished delivering the punchline.

"Morning," Harry said as he took a seat beside Damien.

Victor walked over to Harry and opened a neatly polished wooden box. Two rows of neatly arranged cigars lay inside, waiting to be chosen. Harry reached out and picked one up, even though he didn't smoke, and thanked Victor.

"I hope you don't mind," Damien Seville said, eyeing Harry, "but we usually spend most of our time discussing areas of business."

Harry leaned back in the cushy leather chair and twirled the cigar in his fingers. "Nope. I don't mind at all."

"And," Gavin said, looking down his nose at Harry while sucking on the end of his cigar, "what is it you do again? Own a bookshop with your wife?" There was a smirk in Gavin's voice that was hard to miss.

This is going to be a long day, Harry thought immediately before forcing a smile.

* * * *

Hermione closed her eyes and smiled as best she could. Seeing as how she had a very thick layer of drying brown goo on her face, moving the muscles around her mouth was difficult, but she managed a cracking smile at Cynthia. A wand hovered near her face and a tingling sensation followed.

"He is...something special," Hermione said shyly. She reached for a carrot and parted her lips enough to shove it in her mouth and bite.

"Oh, come on," Cynthia laughed. Her face was bright green and sparkling, and a white towel was wound tightly around her head. "You can do better than that. You're newlyweds. Everything is different...at least for a while. How is he in the sack?"

Hermione giggled. "In the sack? What in the world does that mean?" She took another bite of her carrot.

Cynthia laughed again and looked over at the Sevilles. All three Seville women were being pampered inside a glass room full of a white powdery substance that hovered in the air like perfumed smoke. She was certain they couldn't hear their conversation, but she leaned closer anyway. She picked up a carrot from the plate between her and Hermione.

"How is he in bed?" Cynthia whispered conspiratorially before biting into the crunchy carrot.

Hermione immediately choked on her carrot. She lifted her hands, covered her mouth with one and placed one against her chest as her coughing fit ensued. Cynthia burst out laughing.

"You're both young, and if you don't mind me saying, he's quite handsome. Merlin knows he's crazy about you," Cynthia continued while Hermione settled back down.

"What do you mean?" Hermione asked, placing the rest of her half eaten carrot down on the plate.

"The way he looks at you," Cynthia sighed, "it reminds me of when Nathan and I were young."

"Oh," Hermione protested, feeling her cheeks fill with color, "he doesn't look at me any differently than he did before." She thought back through all the years she'd known Harry, and shook her head. She was most certain nothing had changed between them--she was desperately trying to convince herself.

Cynthia rolled her eyes playfully. "A dead woman could feel the heat between the two of you. It's so obvious. So, tell me. Is he any good in bed?" She exploded with laughter again when Hermione's face paled.

"...I...he...we...well, what I mean to say is..." she paused and bit her bottom lip. She laughed nervously, and looking back into Cynthia's inquisitive face, she swallowed. "Yes," she said, surprised to hear the absolution she heard in her voice.

"I knew it," Cynthia grinned. "Amazing?"

"Absolutely," Hermione said, closing her eyes unconsciously and allowing her thoughts of Harry to drift down a hallway in her mind where she had hung a no admittance sign for years. What would it hurt to think of him as something other than a best friend? Who would know? Somehow she knew that Harry would be amazing in bed. Heat began to pool in her stomach, and her body warmed considerably.

"Oh, dear," Cynthia said, touching Hermione's hand. Hermione opened her eyes and tried to refocus her thoughts. "If I wasn't mad about Nathan, I would be jealous."

"Of what?" Hermione asked, trying to swallow past the dryness in her throat. She licked her lips.

"Of a love that great. It's obvious the two of you adore each other, respect each other, and just to know that the love stretches past friendship and into something more intimate is amazing. It's a rare and beautiful thing. Never let go of each other," Cynthia said gently.

Hermione suddenly felt as if she might cry so she looked away from Cynthia and inhaled a deep breath. "I don't ever want to let go of him," she whispered, shocked to know it was the absolute truth.

"So don't. And if you stay because he's amazing or because he's amazing in the sack, it's up to you and I won't think any less of you."

Hermione turned her head quickly to look at Cynthia with an expression of astonishment, but immediately she saw the twinkle in her eyes. Cynthia laughed, and Hermione couldn't help herself--she smiled and her heart sighed at the realization Cynthia had pulled out of her. She didn't ever want to let go of Harry...never ever.

* * * *

Harry fought off the twenty-fifth yawn of the morning that was trying to fight its way out. Listening to the Sevilles drone on and on about boring business tactics was really putting him to sleep. He was only trying to stay awake to make sure he didn't miss any details for Hermione.

As far as he could tell, the Sevilles looked the part of the shady characters, but he could find nothing in their conversations to prove they were anything more.

"...I think consolidating the companies without any employees losing their jobs is a very important issue, and I'm glad you agree with my opinion," Nathan said as Victor smiled a toothy grin and nodded his approval.

"Yes, the employees are very important to us, Nathan," Damien said, but when Harry looked at his face, he saw no sincerity in the old man's words.

Gavin interrupted the business talk, and Harry was greatly relieved until he realized he was turning into the topic of conversation.

"You look like someone. I can't quite figure out who it is, but it's someone," Gavin said, looking directly at Harry.

Harry used only a second of a beat to allow his heart to stop, then he smiled broadly and shrugged his shoulders. "Tom Cruise?"

"Tom who?" Victor questioned immediately as Nathan laughed.

"Tom Cruise!" Nathan said boisterously. "Yes, my wife said that. She told me Julianna fancies him and likes to say you favor him."

Harry smiled at Nathan, thankful for his lighthearted nature. "Yeah. So she tells me."

"Well, at least he's a handsome bloke. Better than saying you favor Timothy Spall, right?"

Harry laughed and nodded his head. "Exactly."

"Who the bloody hell is this Tom fellow?" Victor asked, clearly annoyed to be left out of the conversation.

"He's an American Muggle actor," Nathan explained.

Gavin exhaled a righteous puff of air. "Muggles," he said in disgust. "I wouldn't necessarily think that's a compliment."

Harry's gaze narrowed immediately at Gavin, and in that moment, he didn't give a damn what kind of information was at stake.

"I think it would be best if you didn't bad mouth Muggles," Harry replied darkly.

"Oh yeah? And why is that? I'm not afraid of a stupid Muggle--" Gavin continued.

Harry's hand gripped his wand tightly without lifting it. "--My wife is a Muggle-born."

"As is mine," Nathan replied, clearly offended. Gavin paled.

"Gavin, I think you should get us another round of drinks," his father demanded in a quiet voice. Gavin stood and stalked away. "My deepest apologies, Nathan. Gavin is still young and hotheaded. He means no disrespect."

"Of course he doesn't," Nathan said, and Harry could see the tension leave his shoulders, but Harry also didn't miss the fact that Damien Seville had not apologized to him.

Victor stood and whispered something to his father before heading toward Gavin. Nathan leaned over and whispered to Harry while the others were talking.

"A bit fierce over the wife?" There was no anger in his voice, and when Harry looked at him, he thought he saw amusement in Nathan's eyes.

He sighed. "A bit. I'm sorry for my quick temper. I've always had a bit of a problem with that."

"No apologies to me, son. I must say it's refreshing to see a man so willing to fight for his woman."

"I'd fight to the death for her," he said quickly and honestly. I already have once. I'd do it again.

"I have no doubts about that," Nathan said, smiling.

Harry leaned back in his chair and rubbed the bridge of his nose. What did that mean? What did it mean that he was so willing to fight someone over Hermione's honor? Did that mean he was an amazing best friend? Or did it mean more?

* * * *

Victoria twirled in front of a large mirror and smiled while it complimented her profusely. Hermione was sure the boutique's mirrors were all charmed to flatter the shoppers into buying more. The more compliments given, the more money people spent. It was a clever idea, but Hermione still found herself frowning as she watched Victoria twirl and fluff her hair.

"Different breed of animal," Cynthia said as she stepped up beside Hermione.

"She's gorgeous. And perfect," Hermione mumbled.

"She's a shell. Lovely on the outside but hollow inside. You, on the other hand, are full of stuff inside," Cynthia replied.

"Like caramel?" she asked, feeling silly.

"And sugar and spice," Cynthia said, following Hermione's playful behavior.

"And everything nice?"

"That's right. You're full of lots of interesting things...intelligence, kindness, secrets--"

"--secrets?" Hermione asked, blanching.

"Every woman has secrets," she said, winking, "the difference is some of us keep them much better than others." She held up a soft blue dress in front of Hermione, and changed the subject quickly. "I thought this would look lovely on you."

"On me?"

"Yes. Go try it on and let's have a look." Hermione looked at Victoria, who was still twirling while Beatrice was complimenting her, and frowned. Cynthia seemed to read her mind. "Never mind Barbie. You try this on. I think you're going to look amazing."

"Oh, okay," Hermione sighed, but nevertheless enjoying the growing camaraderie between her and Cynthia.

Hermione walked into a changing room and as soon as she pulled on the dress, she looked at her reflection and smiled. It was very nice. Without meaning to, she wondered what Harry would think of it. She instantly shoved those thoughts away and opened the door.

Cynthia was waiting for her. She smiled when she saw Hermione.

"Oh, I knew it. That color is wonderful with your skin tone and hair. You need to buy that," she said assuredly.

"I don't know," Hermione hesitated.

"Wow, you look...different," Victoria said, walking up to Hermione wearing a tight silver beaded dress that left little to the imagination.

"Thanks," Hermione mumbled.

"Doesn't she look wonderful?" Cynthia said, smiling.

"It's definitely a great dress," Beatrice added.

"You're right. It is a great dress, but what's in it is much, much better," a male voice said, and Hermione's heart stopped when she saw Harry standing behind Cynthia. She blushed.

"Jonathan," she breathed out, amazed that she hadn't called him by his real name.

"You look..." he searched for the right word.

"Beautiful? Stunning? Sexy?" Cynthia said, taking him by the arm and walking him closer to Hermione.

"Yes, yes and yes," he said sweetly, and Hermione's blush deepened.

"Oh, well...Cynthia picked it out..." she stuttered, glancing anywhere but at Harry.

"Good choice," he said to her.

"I thought so," Cynthia replied. "So, how was business with the men?"

"Interesting," Harry answered. "I'm sure it wasn't as entertaining as being pampered and shopping."

"Of course not. Talking business all morning sounds dull as dirt to me," Cynthia said as she smiled at Harry. Nathan walked up behind her and slipped his hand into hers. Hermione saw the smile that passed between them and then noticed the rest of the Seville clan walk into the boutique.

"Have a good time?" Hermione asked Harry quietly as the wives joined their husbands.

"Oh, yeah," he whispered sarcastically, "about as much fun as fighting a manticore with my hands tied behind my back."

Hermione giggled. "Well, I did have fun." When she smiled up at him, her heart fluttered. Cynthia's conversation was still bouncing around in her brain.

"Good to hear, and I wasn't kidding about the dress. You look great," he said quietly, grinning at her in a way that caused her breath to catch in her throat.

"Well, I should go change," she said, turning away from him, but Harry caught her arm and stopped her.

"What is it?" she asked in surprise.

"Leave it on. It's nice," he said, and she wrinkled her nose at him. Then, he leaned over and whispered, "Come on, we're putting on a good show for the Sevilles. We look like two innocent naïve kids in love. Completely unaware of the evil all around us. Never assuming they know more than they're telling."

Hermione leaned close to him. "Did you find out something?" she whispered, her eyes wide with curiosity.

"I've got a few assumptions. Nothing concrete, but I do believe something underhanded is going on," he whispered back.

Hermione put her hand on his cheek and smiled; she noticed Victor and Damien watching them closely. "Oh honey," she said, "you are so wonderful."

With his back to the Sevilles, they couldn't see the smirk pulling his lips. "That's my girl. Ham it up," he said lightly. "Let's go back to our room so I can peel this off of you," he joked playfully. Hermione's face flushed, and her mouth dropped open. He leaned down and put his face against her cheek while slipping an arm around her waist and pulling her close to him. "Go along with it. I want to tell you about what I learned today. It's a good excuse and it will show them that we don't care about them or their business talks. We're too consumed with each other," he whispered against her cheek.

His breath was hot, and her skin shivered in thrilling waves. "Okay," she whispered back, unable to say more. She felt sure her legs had turned into two wet noodles.

Harry grabbed her hand and began tugging her through the boutique. Nathan and Cynthia were talking with Damien and Beatrice at the front of the store.

"I'll pay for the dress. You can tell the Morgans we're leaving," Harry said, stepping up to the counter.

Hermione walked up beside Cynthia and touched her arm lightly. "Excuse me, Cynthia," she said quietly, "Jonathan and I are going to go up to our room."

"Oh?" she asked, raising an eyebrow in delight. "The dress is a keeper then?"

Hermione smiled shyly. "Definitely. Thanks Cynthia. I had a really great time today."

Cynthia touched Hermione's hand and smiled easily. "So did I." Then she winked. "Enjoy him."

"I will," Hermione whispered back.

"Are you leaving?" Victor asked, interrupting Cynthia and Hermione's conversation.

"Jonathan and I are going up to the room for a bit. We need to send an owl to our friends. It's their anniversary today," she lied quickly.

"Victoria and I will go with you. We need to get a few things out of our room as well," he said smoothly.

"Ready?" Harry asked as he walked up and stood beside Hermione. She nodded. "Nathan, Damien, it was a real pleasure. I'm sure we'll see you later."

Harry took Hermione's hand, and they walked through the lobby toward the lifts. Victor and Victoria were close behind. While they were waiting for the lift to arrive, Harry pulled Hermione close to him and she laughed. He knew Victor was watching them closely. She laid her head against his chest, knowing they were only putting on a show, but enjoying herself just the same. It felt good to be so close to Harry.

"Did you enjoy our business talks today, Jonathan?" Victor asked as the doors to the lift opened. They stepped inside, and Hermione leaned against Harry. He glanced down at her, and the way he looked at her made her feel as though there was no one else in the world but the two of them. She rested her head against his shoulder, and it gave her the perfect angle to look at Victor. She could see the calculating curiosity in his eyes as he waited for Harry to answer..

Harry shrugged him off and smiled. "Oh, it was almost all Chinese to me," he lied. "Owning our bookshop is enough of a challenge for me."

"Of course," Victor said, smiling, and Hermione could tell his worries were pacified.

Her thoughts were shut off again as Harry tugged her closer to him. The doors opened up to the second floor and Victoria stepped off without saying a word. Victor stepped off and turned to look at them.

Harry whispered, "Look at me."

Hermione looked up at him and didn't know if the feeling of love she felt in her chest was real or only part of their disguise. Victor called goodbye to them, but Harry's gaze never left Hermione's.

"See you around, Victor," he said absentmindedly as the lift doors closed.

Hermione sighed when they were alone, but Harry didn't step away from her. She wanted to ask him what he'd found out, but when she looked back up into his eyes, she couldn't think. Her thoughts were jumbled up, and she was losing herself in his green eyes.

"We put on a good show," she said quietly, trying to find a release for the tightness in her chest.

"We're a good team," he answered.

"Always have been," she agreed, wondering if she should step away from him. The heat from his body was rapidly unnerving her.

"Always will be," he added, and all at once she found it difficult to breathe normally.

"They aren't watching us anymore," she said quietly, hearing the sound of her thumping heart hammering in her ears.

"I know," he said just as quietly. Then, he lifted his hand to her cheek, and his expression softened.

"We don't have to pretend anymore," she whispered as her knees began to tremble.

"I'm not," he whispered back.

She pulled in a surprised gulp of air. She wasn't prepared for his reply, and she was even less prepared when he leaned down and pressed his lips to hers.

Her mouth opened to his, and Harry instantly deepened the kiss. Her head swam and spun out of control. She leaned into him and slid her arms around his neck. She couldn't breathe. She couldn't think. All she could do was kiss him.

It was exhilarating. It was passionate, and it was scary as hell.

The doors to the lift opened and somehow they stumbled out, still in each others' arms, still kissing. Harry leaned her up against the door to their room as he slipped his hand behind her head. Suddenly, Hermione was frighteningly aware of what was happening. She put her hands on his chest and pushed him away.

Her eyes were glassy and filled with unexpected desire. She pressed a hand to her forehead in the hopes that it would steady her spinning head. She couldn't look at Harry. How could she? What would she see in his eyes?

She fumbled in her pockets for the key and turned around quickly, shoving the door open and rushing inside. Harry was on her heels. She stood at the edge of the bed and struggled to steady her breathing.

"Oh, God, Hermione, I'm sorry. I don't know...I didn't mean to..." he stumbled, and she could hear the distressed sincerity in his voice.

"You didn't mean to?" she asked, turning around and looking up at him. Suddenly she wanted to cry.

He hesitated at her question, looked as if he wanted to reach out and touch her and then thought better of it. "I don't want to ruin our friendship. It was stupid, and I'm sorry. I wasn't thinking," he said, his words rushing out in a strangled voice.

"It was stupid?" she asked, blinking away the approaching tears. She wanted to melt into the carpet.

"No, that's not what I meant," he said quickly. He finally reached out and rubbed his hand down her arm. He felt her shiver beneath him. He sighed. "I don't want you to be angry with me. I don't want to ruin our friendship, Hermione. You're too important to me."

"I'm not angry with you, Harry," she said, quietly, staring down at her feet.

"Look at me," he said gently and she obeyed. "Have I messed up everything? God, I'm so sorry Hermione. What can I do to fix this?"

She stared into his worried green eyes, and she swallowed, finding the bravery she was sure was still buried deep within her. She took a step toward him.

"You can kiss me again," she whispered as her heart raced in her chest.

Harry's eyes widened then relaxed as a slow, loving smile crept across his lips. "Yeah?"

"Yeah."

"You're not angry with me?" he asked, sliding his hand up to her neck and then running it through her hair.

"No," she whispered. "Just a little surprised."

"Fair enough," he said as he moved his other hand around her waist and pulled her body slowly toward his.

"And a little scared," she admitted.

"Me, too."

"Really?" she asked, surprised and somewhat relieved.

"Oh yeah. Terrified."

"Then why did you...why did you kiss me?" she asked, looking up into his eyes.

"It just felt right," he confessed.

Then, she smiled, even though her stomach was a nervous knot. "It did?"

"I couldn't stop myself," he said and closed his eyes as she slid her hands hesitantly up his chest. She'd never touched Harry in such a way before, and she found it thrilling.

"I don't want you to stop," she said nervously.

He didn't say any more. He merely leaned down and began kissing her again. It was easy and gentle at first like a sparking ember, but the passion between them soon burst into a roaring flame--a flame that burned so high and so out of control that neither of them could stop it, and neither of them wanted to. It consumed them entirely in a burning blanket of heat and desire.