A/N: And now there's a sequel. It happens. So here it is, probably even more pointless and rambly than the first part, which I wasn't sure was possible. And unbetaed. That also happens when I post these things first on my livejournal, I never get around to having them looked over.
Just Coffee
Things didn't get much easier than coffee.
Harry figured he'd have to do something really stupid-really, really stupid-to bugger up coffee.
Still, with his track record, he was certain there was something he could do to mess everything up.
So far, she was still sitting across from him, sipping her mug of coffee, cheeks slightly rosy and eyes wide and bright.
He was choosing to take that as a good sign.
He had yet to lose or misplace the books he'd bought her earlier, something he was rather proud of. He hadn't slopped coffee down his front. He'd even managed to resist his rather large impulse to quickly Apparate over to Ron's flat for advice.
He was toying around with the idea of taking her hand and asking if she wanted to come back to his place when his good luck shattered.
He should have known it was inevitable.
"Herm-own-ninny!"
Harry choked on his coffee.
"Oh, my! Viktor!"
Hermione grinned and jumped out of her seat, launching herself at the surly looking man who'd interrupted them.
They hugged for a good half-minute, causing other people in the café to look over in interest.
Harry cleared his throat.
They broke apart, still grinning.
"Harry, you remember Viktor, don't you?" Hermione positively beamed. "Oh, you must join us, Viktor. It's been ages since I last saw you."
Hermione dragged a chair over to the table and pushed Viktor Krum into it. She sat back down, before turning eagerly to face him.
"Oh, how are you? You told me in your last letter you were taking a break from Quidditch? Are you really? What are you doing?"
Krum leaned toward her, completely ignoring Harry. "I haff been traveling. Since You-Know-Who vos vanquished, it haff been much safer for travel."
"Imagine that," Harry muttered.
"Traveling!" Hermione said. "Where did you go? What did you see? Did you-Oh, Viktor, did you get to go to Paris? It's a beautiful city, isn't it?"
"I haff been to Paris, Venice, Berlin, New York…"
Hermione sighed in envy. "Please, tell me you took photos."
"Of course." Krum smiled, causing his eyebrows to crinkle together. "Ve should go for coffee some day. I could show them to you."
Harry spat coffee onto the table.
Krum and Hermione both turned to look at him, as if just noticing he was there.
"Coffee?" Harry croaked.
"Vhy, yes," Krum said, frowning. "Vat is, if you'd like, Herm-own-ninny."
Hermione hesitated, catching Harry's eye.
"So, what are you doing back here?" she said brightly. "I can't imagine why you'd want to come back to little old Diagon Alley."
"Works for me," Harry said loudly. "I think it's a great spot. You know, for starting a family."
"Exactly!" Krum said excitedly. "He is right, you know. I vant to settle down."
Harry wanted to smack himself.
"Really?" Hermione said. "Well-I could help. I know there are some nice houses in the area up for sale."
"Oh, I don't vant to be any trouble."
"Nonsense!" Hermione said briskly. "It won't be any trouble at all. Especially not for an old friend."
"Yeah, old friend," Harry said. "You must be getting on now in years, Victor, don't you think? You're, what, nearly thirty now?"
"Harry!"
"Well, he is," Harry said defensively.
Krum looked confused. "Vat does it matter how old I am?"
"Well, it's just… Hermione likes to date wizards more around her age, you know?"
Hermione glared at him. Krum looked back and forth between Harry and Hermione as if just realizing something.
"I see," he said slowly. "Vell, I didn't mean to interrupt anything. I can go, if you vant."
"Don't be silly, Viktor. Harry's just being…." Hermione trailed off, obviously not quite sure how to describe Harry's behaviour. "Stay. It's wonderful seeing you again."
Harry got up so suddenly that his chair scraped back across the floor.
"Yeah, Viktor, why don't you stay. You and Hermione can have coffee. You can show her all your little photos. Hermione, you can help Viktor move into his house-perhaps, settle down." Harry gathered up all of Hermione's books. "And I'll-be outside!"
With that spectacular announcement, Harry stomped his way outdoors, slamming the door to the café behind him.
If possible, he felt even worse outside. He exhaled, feeling his stomach flood with disappointment.
He had been so close.
It was just supposed to be coffee. Just coffee. And even that he'd managed to mess up.
He sat on a bench across the street, setting the books next to him. Happily chatting people walked past him, barely shooting him a second glance.
He stared at the café across the street, wondering if he'd lost his chance with Hermione forever. Instead of acting on his jealousy, he should have waited it out. She'd said she wanted to spend the rest of her life with him, Harry, not some big-shot Bulgarian Seeker.
But now… well, he'd all but given them his blessing. He could see them in his mind, slowly leaning closer and closer to each other. Making plans to meet again. Looking at photographs together. Going house buying together.
There was a loud crack and Harry yelped, nearly cascading off the bench.
Hermione had Apparated next to him, somehow managing to land precisely next to him.
"Oh, Harry, I'm so sorry!" she said immediately.
Harry stared, still trying to recover from the near heart attack he'd suffered when she'd appeared next to him. "Really?" he croaked.
She nodded profusely, looking near tears. "I told Viktor I'd talk to him later. I know it wasn't right for me to ignore you. I didn't mean to make you feel as though I didn't want to be in there with you. I was terrified when I saw you walk out! I should have stopped you-I know I should've, but I could hardly believe any of this-us, I mean, it's real, isn't it?"
Harry never got a chance to answer, Hermione took a deep breath before continuing again.
"I guess…I guess I just wasn't thinking! I forgot that I wasn't there with just my best friend Harry, but my-my-but with you Harry! It was awful what I did, Harry! Really, it was! I don't feel that way about Viktor, really I don't. Can you-can you forgive me?"
Harry was so relieved that it wasn't him that had messed up that he could do nothing but nod.
Hermione let out a loud, tearful sniffle. "You're not angry with me?"
Harry shook his head.
Hermione slumped in relief. She glanced at the bag of books lying next to him on the bench and frowned.
"You brought all my books out with you?"
Harry gave her a weak smile. "I guess I thought that if I had the books… you'd eventually have to come back for them."
Hermione smiled and they lapsed into a companionable silence. After a moment, Hermione surprised him when she cuddled up next to him and rested her head on his shoulder. She laced her fingers through his, their entwined hands resting on Harry's knee. Harry's heart started thumping.
"This is nice," she whispered, as they watched the multitude of shoppers pass in front of them.
Harry swallowed. "Hermione?"
"Mmm?"
"You really don't think of Krum in that way?"
"Of course not, silly," she huffed. "I think of you in that way."
Harry was so relieved that he momentarily felt lightheaded.
"Err… Hermione?"
"Mmm?"
"D'you, er… want to…." Harry trailed off, blushing. "D'you want to come back to my… flat… with me?"
"Your flat?"
"Yeah," Harry said. "Er… if you want."
"Okay," she said.
"Really?"
"Honestly, Harry. Stop acting so surprised. Yes, let's go."
Despite the fact that his heart was hammering in his chest, Harry somehow managed to Apparate into his flat without splinching himself. Hermione arrived at the same time he did and he was surprised to see that their hands were still entwined.
The bag of books dropped to the floor with a loud thud. Harry's mouth was very dry.
"Do you… want something?" he asked, letting go of her hand and going into the kitchen. He opened the fridge and stared blankly at its contents. "I have… Butterbeer."
"Not thirsty," Hermione said, coming into the kitchen behind him. "We just had coffee, remember?"
"Right," Harry said. "Well, something to eat, then?"
"I'm fine-"
"Don't think I have much here. Living alone, you know. I could Owl Out for delivery if you wanted."
"No, that's-"
"Let's see, I could check the freezer. Might be some pizza in there."
"Harry, I'm not hungry."
Her voice was deathly calm.
Harry turned around, startled to find that she was right behind him. He was quickly losing his ability to think straight.
"Are you always this nervous when you bring girls home?"
He let out a shaky breath. "Not exactly something I'm in the habit of doing."
She took another step towards him, tilting her head up to study him. Her eyes searched his face, as if she was looking for something terribly important.
"It's just me," she whispered. "There's nothing you have to fear. It's just me."
"I'm nervous because it's you," he said honestly.
"Don't be," she said. "This… we're in this together. It's new and exciting and so very right. You know that, don't you?"
"Of course," Harry said.
He reached out to cup her cheek, his fingers getting tangled in the soft mess of her hair. Hermione closed her eyes, as if savouring his touch.
When he leaned down to kiss her, his nervousness seemed to fade away at the touch of his lips against hers. The kiss was soft, gentle, a sealing of a promise between them.
He pulled away and Hermione reached out to take off his glasses. Folding them with one hand, she placed them on the kitchen counter before turning back to him, her eyes settling on his lips.
He kissed her again. She let out a soft sigh, her hands tangling in his hair. She pressed against him, her breasts pushing against his chest. He muffled a gasp at the sensations coursing through him.
A powerful mix of feelings and emotions rose in him-desire, want, need, love.
His lips trailed down her neck. Her skin was soft and sweet under his mouth. She arched her neck, emitting a sigh of pleasure.
"Harry…" she breathed.
Hearing his name uttered like that-barely a whisper, sent his system rocking.
He pressed a kiss on her jaw, lips just below her ear.
"I love you, Hermione," he whispered.
He pulled away slightly to see her face-even though his entire body was screaming at him to take more.
She framed his face with her hands, her fingers brushing over his cheek. She kissed him, her tongue demanding entrance into his mouth. His hands slid down her backside, resting at the base of her shirt.
Somehow, stumbling and gasping, mouths fused together, hands fisted in and under shirts, they made it to the bedroom.
He wanted to ask her if this was okay-if she was alright with the step they were taking-if she loved him-if this was something she'd regret in the morning.
But she felt so good and he was incapable of doing anything but kiss her harder, hands slipping under her shirt to explore her skin. She tasted like coffee and sugar and he couldn't find the strength in himself to pull away.
She touched him back-her hands warm and caressing as they moved over his skin. She met him kiss for kiss, thrust for thrust.
And he realized.
She didn't need to say anything.
He already knew.
The End
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