Make Like Strangers - Next Time Just Apparate! by Make Like Strangers

Rating: NC17
Genres: Romance
Relationships: Harry & Hermione
Book: Harry & Hermione, Books 1 - 5
Published: 29/04/2005
Last Updated: 30/04/2005
Status: Completed

Hermione is going to be gone for nearly a week while she attends a Healers conference in
Florence, Italy. Whatever will Harry do?




1. Next Time Just Apparate!
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A/N: We’re baaaack!! After a much-needed hiatus, MLS is working their way back.

These are the continuing voyages of Harry and Hermione…yeah, so it’s a little Star Treky, but
you get the idea. If you haven’t read the first three parts of the Make Like Strangers series, you
might want to before you read this. Otherwise, some of the things mentioned might not make sense.
(Thanks to those of you who suggested we mention this…didn’t even think about it!)

As always, your comments are very much appreciated!! We hope you enjoy this one!!

*Disclaimer: Yep…it all still belongs to JK Rowling.*


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**Next Time Just Apparate!**

The train had just started moving again after it had stopped at a station picking up new
passengers on its way to Florence, Italy. Hermione was going to attend a seminar for Healers;
lately that’s all she had thought about becoming, and in an effort to find out more about what she
needed in order to accomplish that goal, she had signed up for the conference.

Healers, and those considering the occupation, from all over Europe and the United States were
converging on Florence for this three-day event. Harry had suggested that she apparate so she could
spend more time with him before she had to leave, but her love of trains (stemming from her
Hogwarts days she supposed) made her decide to take the train from London instead. It was going to
be a 16-hour trip there, and the same coming back. That, combined with three days at the
conference, meant she’d be gone for the better part of a week.

Hermione sat at a small table in the crowded bar car rolling a toothpick between her fingers.
She watched the scenery go by as the sky was darkening. *Harry was right,* she thought. *I
should have apparated.*

She sighed and sat back in the chair. Reaching her hand around the back of her head, she began
to slowly massage the tension from her neck. And she was tense. Not from homework or psychopathic
wizards bent on killing one of her best friends, but simply because she was quickly being pulled
further and further away from said best friend. A best friend that had become the man she loved.
And she missed him desperately, even though they had only said goodbye a few hours earlier. *This
is going to be a long ride,* she thought miserably.

The bartender appeared and smiled down at her. “Would you care for another drink, miss?”

Hermione opened her eyes and smiled up at him as she sat up straight again. “I don’t think so,”
she said. “Not now anyway. I think I’ll head over to the dining car first.”

“Very well,” the bartender said smiling, and quickly moved away to make his rounds at the other
tables.

Hermione grabbed her small purse and got up, walking slowly through the crowded car to the door.
She pushed that one open, then the one to the next car and went through. She quickly walked through
the car, not looking at anyone who might be affording her a glance as she passed.

Once in the dining car, she was led to a table and she sat beside the window. “May I get you
something to drink, miss?” the waiter asked politely as he handed her a sleek-looking menu.

“Just a glass of water, please,” Hermione said quietly. She turned to look back out the window
as he walked away. Her hand automatically went to her throat where a small silver heart hung on a
delicate silver chain. Harry had given it to her after dinner one night a few weeks earlier. She
smiled fondly at the memory….


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*“I hope you like red wine,” she said, handing him a glass and sitting beside him on the
couch. The fire was roaring under the mantle. She snuggled up to him as he took a sip of the wine,
then set the glass down on the coffee table. “You don’t like it?”*

*“Shush,” he said, sitting back. Hermione made to turn around but he put his hand on her
shoulder. “Don’t.” She froze. “Close your eyes.”*

*She did so without hesitation. Her trust for him had always been endless, but it was even
more so now. “What are you doing, Harry?” she asked quietly.*

*“Shhhh,” he whispered against her ear, sending shivers down her spine.*

*Hermione was quiet. She felt him moving around behind her but had no idea what he was doing.
Then she felt it. Something cold was suddenly against her chest. He was putting a chain around her
neck. “Open your eyes.”*

*She did so and quickly held up whatever it was he had adorned her with. It was a tiny silver
heart-shaped locket. She felt tears prickling the corners of her eyes. “Open it,” he urged.*

*Handling it with the utmost care, she carefully opened it and gasped when she saw the picture
inside. It was a picture Colin had taken of the two of them right after graduation. She remembered
it well. They had smiled for him, then they looked at each other. Hermione suddenly felt her mouth
go dry as she watched picture Harry’s face look towards her picture self. He was looking at her
with such…love?*

*She looked up at him in astonishment. “You knew then,” she stated.*

*Harry grinned at her. “No, I didn’t. My heart did, but I didn’t. I just came across that
picture the other day. And when I saw the way I was looking at you, I couldn’t believe I hadn’t
noticed it sooner. Remember me?” he said, pointing to himself, “the clueless git?”*

*Hermione laughed and reached up, wrapping her arm around his neck, bringing his head down so
she could kiss him….*


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“Miss?”

Hermione blinked out of her daydream and looked up. “What?” She blushed slightly when she saw
the waiter standing beside her table again. “I’m so sorry.”

He smiled in understanding. “May I get you something?”

“Oh, um,” Hermione began, looking quickly through the menu, “I’ll just have the Caesar salad,
thank you.”

“Very good.” The waiter moved away quietly as Hermione grinned to herself. *You get distracted
so easily lately.* She let out a soft chuckle and took a sip of water. The countryside sped by
outside, the darkening sky a magnificent shade of magenta sprinkled with oranges and reds.

Her hand mindlessly resumed its fondling of the locket around her neck. She saw her face
reflected in the window. Her mind was miles away, where the man she loved was probably eating
dinner alone. She checked her watch. It was nearly 8:30. *Why didn’t I tell him to come with me?
Or better yet…why didn’t I just apparate like he said? Then I could still be at home with
him….*

“Miss?”

Hermione looked up and was startled to see the waiter had brought her salad already. How long
had she been daydreaming? “Yes?”

“Your salad,” he said, setting it down in front of her.

“Oh, thank you,” she said quietly, picking up her napkin. He grinned at her and turned away.
Hermione looked down at the salad, suddenly not hungry. Picking up a fork, she began to poke at it,
only eating about a quarter of it. She just didn’t want it.

After another 20 minutes of just staring at it, she pushed it from her and sat back in her
chair. She looked at her watch again and decided that she’d get some reading done before she went
to sleep. She gathered up her purse and stood up, leaving the table.

She had to pass through the bar car to get to the sleeper cars. Hermione had every intention of
walking straight through to her compartment, but decided she wanted one more glass of wine. She
managed to find an empty table in a corner near the far door and sat down, looking towards the bar
until she got the bartender’s attention.

He smiled as he approached. “What can I get for you?”

“Just a glass of white wine, please,” Hermione said quietly. He nodded and stepped back behind
the bar. He returned not a minute later with her drink then left her alone.

Hermione took a sip and swallowed it slowly. She was still so tense. She thought the train ride
would have eased her stress—that was part of why she told Harry she wanted to take the train
instead of apparating—but it was only making it worse. She wasn’t where she wanted to be.
*Harry*. She wanted to be with Harry.

Setting the glass down, she put her hand on the back of her neck, trying to ease some of the
tightness. With closed eyes, she rolled her head around slowly, trying to loosen the muscles. She
groaned quietly as she found a tight knot of tension in her neck that actually hurt when she
kneaded it.

Then before she knew what had happened, she felt someone else’s hand on her neck. “Let me do
that,” the deep voice said, very close to her ear.

Hermione’s eyes flew open but the stranger put his other hand on the side of her head, keeping
her from turning around. “Don’t turn around,” the voice said in a low whisper.

Hermione felt a tingle shoot between her legs. She recognized the hand. She’d memorized the feel
of it; the fingers were a bit rough and strong, but at the same time delicate and tender. Fighting
back a smile, she closed her eyes again and allowed him to continue his ministrations. “You’re
tense.”

She just nodded, dropping her chin to her chest to give him better access to her neck. Suddenly
both hands were on her neck, rubbing and massaging, kneading deeply. She moaned softly, her hands
on top of the table gripping the napkin tightly. “That feels so good,” she whispered, her voice
trembling.

“Does it?” the voice asked her, the lips soft against her ear.

“Mmmmm.” Hermione was beginning to feel lightheaded. His hands were magic.


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At the next table, a young couple was trying hard not to stare. But they couldn’t help it. They
were stunned. This man had just walked into the car, spotted the young woman, walked up behind her,
and started massaging her neck.

They weren’t sure if the woman knew him or not. She didn’t seem to, but she also didn’t seem to
care that he’d just started touching her very intimately. The couple nonchalantly shifted their
chairs closer together so they were facing Hermione’s table. Fortunately, the talking in the car
was quiet so they could somewhat overhear what was being said between the two apparent
strangers.


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“You traveling alone?” the man asked as his hands moved from her neck to her shoulders.

Hermione only nodded but she was laughing inside. She couldn’t believe he had followed her! He
had gotten on the train without her knowing and was apparently applying his recently honed acting
skills to a real-life situation. *Okay, I’ll play along.* “Lower,” she said quietly, pushing
herself back into his hands, suddenly oblivious to the fact that they were in a crowded train
car.

“Certainly,” the man said quietly, moving his hands lower over her back. “There?”

“Perfect.” She was silent for another minute as the massage continued, then she decided to break
the silence. “Are you with someone?”

The man smiled. “Not at the moment,” he answered.

Hermione grinned. “Would you care to join me for a drink then?” she asked opening her eyes and
finally looking back at the man behind her. She swallowed hard and had to keep her eyes from
bulging out of her head when she saw him.

He was dressed in a simple black suit with a white shirt and black tie. That, with his jet-black
hair and bright green eyes, was making her legs quiver. He grinned at the look on her face. “I
would love to,” he said, taking his hands from her back and moving around to the other side of the
table. He picked up the small chair, swung it around backwards and straddled it. He folded his arms
across the back of the chair and looked straight into her eyes.

Suddenly at a loss for words, Hermione only looked at him. “Um, yes. Um, bartender?” she called,
getting his attention.

He approached their table and smiled at her, then looked at her new companion. “Good evening,
sir. What can I get you?”

Without taking his eyes from Hermione’s, he said “whatever the lady is having.” The bartender
looked between them, then slinked off. He returned quickly with a glass of white wine and set it
down in front of the man who still hadn’t looked away from the woman sitting across from him.

When the bartender moved away, the dark-haired man slowly picked up the glass, raised it to her,
and took a sip, his eyes still looking at her over the top of the glass. Hermione felt her insides
turning to mush. *He’s doing that on purpose!*

*Isn’t that the point?*


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The couple seated at the table beside them were stealing sideways glances at each other. “Does
she know him?” the man asked quietly, not taking his eyes off Hermione.

“I don’t think so,” the woman whispered. “But she doesn’t seem to care.”

“Yeah, she’s looking at him like a bitch in heat.”


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“So,” the strange man said quietly, reaching across the table to put his hand over hers. His
thumb slowly moved across the back of it, sending shockwaves up her arm. Her skin broke out in
goose bumps. “You said you weren’t with anyone.”

“Um, no. I’m not,” Hermione said with a shaky voice. She swallowed nervously. Why on earth was
she so uncomfortable?

He smiled at her. “You going all the way to Florence?” Hermione nodded. Grinning, he nodded
back. Taking another sip of his wine, he set the glass down and stuck his index finger in his
mouth. He pulled it out very slowly.

*Oh, dear, Merlin. He did not just do that.*

*Oh, he’s good.*

With his wet finger, he rubbed around the edge of his wine glass a couple of times, making it
sing. Shocked and unable to speak, Hermione stared at the glass, then her eyes wandered back to
his. They were burning holes right through her.

He suddenly pushed himself back and sat up straight. “Would you like some company this
evening?”

Hermione looked at him incredulously. She knew he was playing, but apparently she was just now
finding out how very good he was at it. “Are you propositioning me?” she asked, her voice nearly
getting stuck in her throat.

He smiled at her knowingly, then reached forward and took her hand. Kissing the back of it, he
let his lips linger on her skin for a second, like he was tasting her. His eyes looked up at her
from under his long eyelashes, melting her into a pile of goo. “If you’d like,” he said
quietly.

*Oh, he’s really good.*

*Yeah, he is, damn him.*


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The young couple at the other table just stared. They no longer cared how obvious they were
about it. The scene playing out before them had them mesmerized. They were sure this man had placed
a spell or something on this poor, unsuspecting woman. With her traveling alone, she was an easy
target for this kind of thing. And she seemed to be playing right into his hands. “Should I say
something?” the man asked his companion out of the corner of his mouth.

She just shook her head as she continued to devour the stranger with her eyes. Her boyfriend
noticed her staring, and didn’t like it much, but he said nothing. He really couldn’t; he had been
staring at Hermione since she had come into the car.


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Hermione slowly pulled her hand from his and sat back. “I don’t even know your name,” she said,
trying to sound offended by the whole situation, but failing miserably.

“The name’s Harry,” he said, sounding very sure of himself.

Hermione nodded. “So now that I know your name you think that entitles you to have your way with
me?”


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The young woman at the other table let out a small gasp which she covered up quickly by taking a
sip of water. If Harry and Hermione knew they were there, they showed no sign of caring. As always,
it was all about them.


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Harry stood up suddenly and moved to stand just beside Hermione’s chair. He reached down and
cupped her chin, raising her head until their eyes met. “Would you object?” he asked in the most
seductive voice Hermione had ever heard from him. The all-too-familiar ache in her abdomen was now
very uncomfortable. He was not making this easy.

“I think you’re being a bit presumptuous…Harry,” she said coyly.

Harry bent down so their noses were barely touching. “Am I?” Before she could utter another
word, his lips touched hers in a feather-light kiss that made her legs go weak. “Tell me you don’t
want me and I’ll leave you alone.”

Hermione bit the corner of her lip. She wanted to look away, but his eyes held hers captive.
“I….” her voice was trembling as badly as her body was. “I, um….”

Harry didn’t let her utter another word. His mouth enveloped hers in a kiss of raw passion. It
had only been a few hours since they said goodbye before she left for the train, but her need for
him had climbed to dangerously ridiculous levels. Kissing him now was so powerful she felt like the
top of her head was going to blow off.

She grabbed at his hair as she kissed him back, trying to draw him closer to her. She needed to
be closer. Then without breaking the kiss, Harry bent lower, wrapped his arms around her waist and
hoisted her up out of her chair, crushing her body against his.

Hermione moaned loudly as his tongue pushed into her mouth, tasting her deeply. Harry let her
body slide down his, letting the junction between her legs rest atop one strong, muscled thigh. The
sudden friction made her jump and she tore her mouth away from his. “I have…a sleeper
compartment….” she breathed heavily. If she didn’t have him *right now* she was going to go
mad.

The grin he gave her would have made the Cheshire Cat proud. “Lead the way, luv,” he
growled.

Hermione reluctantly stepped away from him and grabbed her purse. As she turned, she saw,
seemingly for the first time, the couple at the other table. The man was staring with his mouth
hanging open. The girl was absent-mindedly chewing on a finger while the fingers of her other hand
traced the plunging neckline of her dress. Her legs were as tightly crossed as she could make them.
The man was sitting back in the chair, his eyes wide, his face flushed, his hands hidden under the
table.

Hermione grinned at them as Harry stepped up behind her and slipped his arms around her waist,
pulling her back against him and planting a sloppy wet kiss on the side of her neck. “Something the
matter?” Hermione asked them as she felt herself being pulled in the direction of the door.

“Uh,” the man began, “you, um…you know him?” he asked, his own breath slightly faster than
normal. His companion just continued to stare at Harry.

“Does it matter?” Hermione asked as Harry reached behind them and slid the car door open.

Just before they left the car, Harry smiled at the couple still ogling them. “If she doesn’t
now, she’ll know me when I’m through with her.” He pulled Hermione through the door by her waist,
then they were gone.

The bartender, who had been quietly watching the exchange since Harry had come in, was loosening
his tie. Blinking rapidly, he shook his head. “Kids today,” he said quietly, then went back to
drying the glass he still had in his hand from 20 minutes ago when the whole scene had started.


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Harry refused to let go of her, even as they made their way through the next car and then onto
the tiny platform between that car and the sleeper car. The noise of wind whistling through the
loosely-concealed area drowned out their moans as Harry roughly sat her on top of his thigh again,
grinding her against it by holding onto her hips and moving her up and down, all the while kissing
her so hard he was bruising her lips.

But neither of them cared.

This was beyond passion.

It was primal.

Having only been apart a few hours had ignited a longing in them that frightened them both. This
had been the first time they were going to be apart for any length of time since the movie shoot
had ended, nearly two months earlier. Until now, their need and desire for each other had been
brought down to a simmer as they were available for each other constantly.

But the thought of being apart for this long was something neither one of them could handle.
That’s why Harry had insisted she apparate to the conference. If she had done that, they would have
only been apart for the three days. But she had wanted to take the train, and by so doing had
tacked on another three days away from him.

And the thought of being without her for a whole week made him mad with aching. So once she had
announced her plans and given him a copy of her itinerary, he immediately booked himself on this
leg of the journey so he could surprise her.

And surprise her he had.

He was in control now.

Completely and utterly.

He knew it.

And he knew that she knew it, too.

“Harry….” she gasped as his lips made their way down to her throat. Her shirt was now hanging
crooked off her shoulder and his hand was up underneath it, kneading a breast through her bra. His
other hand was on her arse pushing her up and tighter against his thigh. “Let’s g…go to
my…room….oh…oh…”

He suddenly stopped all movement and looked at her. “I don’t think I can wait that long,” he
said quietly, his hot breath in her face making every nerve ending in her body scream with
rapture.

She grinned. She was aware that she was panting heavily, aware that her breast was still encased
in his large hand, aware that her aching center was pressed maddeningly tight against his thigh.
“It’s just through there.”

Harry looked over his shoulder through the little glass window of the door. “You sure?” he
panted.

She smiled and pushed him away roughly and reached for the door. Harry grabbed her arm and spun
her around into his hard chest, kissing her hungrily. “Hurry,” he said breathlessly.

Hermione slid the door open and they stepped inside. Harry slammed the door shut behind them and
followed her closely until she stopped outside compartment number 6. As she fumbled with the small
key for the door, Harry slipped his arms around her waist from behind, pulling her roughly back
against him so she could feel his erection. “You feel that?” he whispered in her ear as he sucked
on her ear lobe.

“Yes,” she gasped, her hands shaking.

“That’s for you,” he mumbled. He lifted the hair from her neck, then slowly licked her skin from
her collar up to her hair line. Hermione shivered.

“Merlin, Harry….” she breathed, finally getting the door unlocked, “don’t do that!” She heard
him chuckle behind her as she pushed the door open and they literally fell inside the small
compartment. He landed directly on top of her and went right back to kissing her. “Harry, the…the
door, Harry….oh shit….”

Without stopping, Harry felt around for the door with his foot and managed to kick it shut.
Hermione actually giggled as his lips moved down to her throat while his hands started to roam. She
lost her fingers in his hair, closing her eyes and reveling in the feeling of being with him again.
And they had made love just that morning. Their appetite for each other was getting out of hand.
*Oh, sod that,* she thought as she felt him running a hand up her leg and under her skirt.

Still devouring her throat, Harry ripped her knickers off of her and stuck his fingers inside
her saturated center, making her moan loudly and arch her back, nearly knocking him off of her. She
writhed beneath him, her body tensing as his thumb settled on the nerve center of her entire being
and began to stroke circles on it fast and hard. Biting her bottom lip to fight back the screams,
Hermione let her arms fall limply to the floor on either side of her.

She just wanted him to take her.

She didn’t care what he did or how he did it.

She just cared about now.

She wanted it now.

She needed it now.

“Harry, please….”

Quickly withdrawing his fingers and getting a disappointed whimper from her, Harry pushed
himself up and straddled her hips. Staring into her eyes, he quickly unbuttoned her shirt and
pushed it open, then grabbed the straps of her bra and pulled them down off her shoulders. Tangling
themselves up in her sleeves, the bra straps couldn’t move down very much further, but it was
enough. Harry reached forward and pulled the cups down over her breasts, then he leaned over her
and began devouring her nipples with his mouth, one after the other continuously, suckling her
ravenously, until she thought she’d go insane.

But Hermione was getting frustrated. As much as she loved what he was doing, it wasn’t nearly
enough. She needed him to be inside her right now. She suddenly fisted his hair in her hands and
pulled his head up so he could look at her. “Now, Harry….please.”

He lunged forward and kissed her hard as he fumbled with this belt buckle and zipper. While he
was doing that, Hermione reached between them as they kissed, unbuttoning his shirt. Yanking it out
of his trousers, she tried to push it off his shoulders but found that there were still a few
buttons she’d missed. She grabbed hold of the two sides and just tore it open.

Harry’s lips pulled away from hers, his eyes full of wild desire and anticipation. “I love it
when you do that,” he panted, then kissed her again. Hermione smiled against his lips as she
smoothed her hands over his shoulders and down his muscled back.

Finally freed from his boxers, Harry reached down between them and guided himself to the place
warm, wet, and waiting for him. He broke the kiss just far enough so their noses were touching and
looked into her eyes as he slowly pushed into her, not stopping until he could go no further.
Hermione opened her mouth to scream or moan or shout with joy but no sound came out. Just a
strangled something that Harry had figured out by now meant he had just made her feel really
good.

He began a slow, steady rhythm, pulling out nearly all the way, so just the tip of his erection
was barely inside her, then pushed back in with a hard stab. Each time he thrust forward, Hermione
gasped, her arms tightening around his shoulders, her nails digging into his back.

In their frenzied state of coupling, and from the exquisite torture he had performed on her just
minutes before, it didn’t take Hermione long before she was arching up against him, her knees wide
on either side of his hips, her eyes shut tightly, and her mouth open in that soundless scream of
ecstasy that only Harry could elicit from her. The orgasm washed over her like a tidal wave, making
white light explode behind her eyelids, her entire body going taut with spasms.

Harry pumped into her hard as she came, riding it out with her, until he, too, surrendered to
his own release, his hands full of her tangled hair, his moans muffled against her throat. It took
several minutes before either one of them could move. Hermione’s body still jerked with sporadic
tremors, making Harry groan against her heaving chest as he was still buried inside her to his
hilt. He felt every single movement, every single breath she took.

Lowering her legs to the floor, Hermione lifted her head to kiss his shoulder. “Fancy meeting
you here,” she said quietly.

Harry let out a soft chuckle and he slowly got up on his elbows to look down on her flushed
face. Tracing her cheek with a finger, he smiled at her. “You’re not mad, are you?”

She ran a hand through his hair, his bangs damp with sweat. “Why on earth would I be mad?”

Harry shrugged. “Didn’t want you to think I was following you or anything.”

Hermione rolled her eyes. “Honestly, Harry, I….”

“I just couldn’t stand the thought of being away from you for so long,” he admitted.

Smiling, Hermione pulled his head down and she kissed him softly. “You’d better get over that if
we’re going to be together for the rest of our lives.”

Harry smiled shyly, then let himself rest down against her. She held him tightly and stroked his
hair. “I know,” he said quietly, giving her nipple a soft kiss, “but this is still so new. I want
to be with you every second.”

Hermione sighed. “I know,” she said, “I feel the same way.”

Harry got up on his elbows again and smiled down on her. “Good. So what do you say we actually
make it to the bed this time and get some sleep before round two?”

Hermione laughed and pulled him down on her, hugging him tightly. He gently pulled out of her,
immediately missing the warmth, then stood and reached down to help her up from the floor. Still
mostly dressed, they removed what was left of their clothes, then crawled into the small bed and
snuggled up against each other, quickly falling into a restful, sated sleep.


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The boat Harry was laying in was gently rocking, making him drowsy. The bright sun in the blue
sky above him was warming him. And a gentle sound, like someone humming, had reached his ears. He
sat up, making the boat shift every so slightly. There was no one there. He was in the middle of a
vast lake in this tiny boat; it was rocking him, comforting him, soothing him…. “Harry.”

He looked around again. He was alone. But that voice. First the humming, then it called his
name. It was a woman’s voice. It seemed to be so far away. But it was familiar to him.
“Harry….”

“I can year you, but I can’t see you,” he called out, his eyes drooping again from the waves
caressing the boat.

“Harry?”

“Hmmmm?” His eyes snapped open and he lay absolutely still for a few seconds. The bright blue
sky that had been above him was now a cold grey ceiling. But where was he? He still felt the
rocking, but the sound had changed. He no longer heard the water lapping against the boat. What he
heard was the soft droning of an engine. Then he looked up, and smiled when he realized who he was
looking at.

“What you were you dreaming about?” Hermione asked quietly, gently stroking his hair. She was up
on her elbow beside him. He was tucked down against her chest, as warm and comfortable as he had
ever been in his life.

Harry smiled and rolled to his back. He let out a soft chuckle and folded his arm behind his
head. “That I was in a boat in the middle of a lake. And I heard someone humming….”

“That would have been me.”

Harry looked at her and smiled. “Did you say my name?”

“Three times.”

He closed his eyes and sighed deeply. “I heard you.”

Hermione laid down and snuggled against his chest. He put his arm around her back and squeezed
her. “I love you,” he whispered into her hair, then kissed the top of her head.

She let out a slow breath. “I don’t think I’ll ever get tired of hearing that.”

“Good, because I’ll never get tired of saying it,” he said seriously.

She looked up and kissed him softly. “So, about tonight….”

Harry creased his brow. “What about it?”

“What on earth possessed you to seduce me like that? With all those people there?”

Harry laughed. “Oh come on. You have to admit it was fun.”

“Harry….”

He shrugged. “I thought it might be fun to see what kind of reaction we could get from
*real* people, you know?”

Hermione looked sternly at him. “You’re serious.”

Harry grinned. “Yeah, why not?” She sat up and shook her head. After Harry remained silent, she
looked at him. “Admit it. It was fun.” Harry looked at her, then poked her waist. “Come on, admit
it.”

“Stop it,” she said, flinching away.

“Come on, Miss Granger. You liked it.” Tickle, tickle.

“Harry!” she squealed, trying to move away from him.

Before she knew what had happened, she found herself pinned to the bed on her stomach, her arms
held above her head, the entire length of him pressed against the back of her body. “You lose,” he
whispered, pushing his knee between her legs.

“Get off me,” she said not entirely convincingly.

“You don’t want me to, and you know it,” he said confidently, then started to trail tender
kisses across her shoulder blades.

She relaxed and closed her eyes. “No, I don’t want you to.”

“Good,” he said quietly, dropping his other knee between her legs. “Round two?”

Her eyes flickered over to the small travel clock she had sitting on the table and saw that it
was 1:00 in the morning. The train would be arriving in Florence at 7:30 and she had to get some
sleep. “Oh, sure. Why…oh….” Her hands gripped the blankets as she felt him slipping inside her.

His lips lingered on the back of her neck as he pushed into her, slow and lazy, not at all like
the frenzied coupling they had a few hours earlier. He intertwined their fingers above her head and
moved against her in a steady rhythm, getting impossibly deeper with each thrust. “Merlin, you feel
so good this way,” he grumbled against her shoulder.

“Hmmm, yes you do,” she agreed, letting a low hiss escape between her clenched teeth as he
pushed forward.

After 20 or so minutes of slow, languid lovemaking, they found release together in a gentle wave
of pleasure. After Harry had rolled off of her, she snuggled up to him. “The train gets in at
7:30,” she said sleepily, fighting to keep her eyes open.

“Okay,” he said as he yawned.

She smiled up at him and after giving his chest a gentle kiss, she laid her head down against
him and closed her eyes. “Good night, Harry.”

“’night Mione….”