Taste

Taste

Hermione, for all her intelligence, could not seem to figure out the answer to her question.

Was it alright for a person to want to taste her best friend?

Note, that wasn’t, ‘taste her best friend’s food’ or ‘taste her best friend’s drink’ but to actually taste her best friend himself, in the flesh.

She honestly couldn’t help that she had fallen for him. He was wonderful. Everything she had ever wanted. He held doors, shifted staircases, and saved her life so many times that even Crookshanks with his nine lives was impressed. Looking back it was so simple to be in love with him. It was far harder to hide it then it was to have it. What she would’ve given for a chance with him.

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“Mione, have you seen my socks?” Hermione smiled in spite of herself, Harry was always losing socks, partly because he liked to give them away to Dobby.

“Honestly Harry,” she replied, a wide grin still on her face. She went to his trunk searching for the lost articles of clothing. “they’re right here,” she said triumphantly, holding up one blue and one green.

Laughing, he thanked her and gave her a hug.

“What would I do without you?”

She could’ve swooned.

Only, that wasn’t her style. Hermione had always detested the seventh years who were constantly comparing boyfriends. Who cared? But then she met Harry and her reasoning changed quite abruptly. Why share the information with others? Wouldn’t one want to keep all the juicy parts to themselves? Smiling she answered,

“You’d be late to every quidditch game and have Ron beat the daylights out of you.”

“Right,” he agreed, “wouldn’t want that happening. I’d much rather get hit by a bludger.” Pulling on his socks he grabbed his shoes as he ran out the door. Over his shoulder he yelled,

“There’s a reserved seat for you in Tower 9. I’ll see ya later!” She waved at him and shut the door to their rooms. Being Head Boy and Girl had its advantages. She had to admit Harry had surprised her when he had passed up being quidditch captain for being Head Boy. Ron had only been too happy to take the other job.

Smiling to herself she seemingly floated to Tower 9.

“What’s with the big grin on your face?” questioned Ginny. She only smiled wider as she said,

“Nothing.” Ginny snorted and turned back to the game.

“Ooh look! There’s Harry!” Hermione’s head immediately swiveled around.

“And seeker for Gryffyndor, HARRY POTTER!” The crowd screamed and Hermione’s heart did a 360 in place. Smiling broadly and looking very confident, Harry Potter waved at their tower, eyes searching for Hermione. When he found them, his trademark smile found its way onto his face and he gave a mock salute. Hermione laughed, saluting him back. Ginny watched this rendezvous from the side lines, trying to hide her snickers. When everyone had finally sat back down she giggled as Hermione turned to her.

“You like Harry.” It was a statement of fact, not a question.

“Of course, he’s a wonderful friend, you know that.” Ginny rolled her eyes, Hermione could be darn stubborn sometimes.

“I mean you LIKE Harry.” She said again, emphasizing the word ‘like’. Slightly flustered, Hermione chose not to answer. “Hah.” Ginny said smugly and turned back toward the game. Hermoine, still blushing, averted her eyes to the game too, scanning the ever blue skies for Harry.

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“That was a great catch man,” Ron said, clapping Harry on the back. The trio, plus Lavendar, were walking down the streets of Hogmeade, happily reliving the Gryffyndor win that afternoon. Ron and Lavender’s arms were wrapped around each other like seaweed and as they stopped to kiss Harry and Hermione made gagging sounds and sick faces.

“This is the PDA Police!” Harry said, cupping his hands around his mouth. “We’ve caught you red-handed doing Public Displays of Affection. Stop now or forever hold your peace.” Hermione jabbed him in the ribs and Ron and Lavendar, laughing, broke their kiss.

“Fine, fine, you win,” said Lavendar, “It’ll just have to wait for later.” She said, her arms still locked around Ron’s neck. Harry grabbed Hermione’s hand and with a,

“C’mon,” they ran down the street. Both still giggling Harry explained, “I knew they were going to start it again.” They peered behind them and sure enough, the happy couple had started snogging again. Ducking into the nearest store they emerged into the smell of Butterbeer.

“Mmmm,” murmured Hermione appreciatively. Harry grinned and said,

“You sit down while I go grab us some drinks.”

“Ok,” she replied and went to find an empty booth. Sinking into the leather seats of the booth she sighed. Today had been perfect.

Harry quickly ordered two large butterbeers and then went off to find Hermione. When he saw her he felt his throat close up and stiffened slightly. She was sitting down, eyes closed, a happy smile on her face. He watched her swallow and then slowly open her eyes and smile at him. Trying to regain his composure he continued to the table as she scooted in to make room for him.

“So . . .” he started. He found that he had nothing to say. It wasn’t necessarily odd for him, but it was for Hermione who always had a mouthful of facts to recite. They sat there for a few moments, Hermione trying to think of something to say and Harry attempting to catch his breath. Their hands brushed as they reached up to grab the butterbeers that had been promptly delivered to their table.

This is crazy, thought Hermione.

I’m being stupid, countered Harry. Just say something! Anything!

Do something! Hermione found her brain running around in circles. Suddenly he turned toward her and something clicked. Their eyes locked and now both parties began to be in danger of needing CPR.

Harry abruptly turned away and took a large swallow of butterbeer. Hermione did the same as the awkward silence ticked on.

Suddenly she sighed, this was madness.

“Harry we’re being stupid.” He grinned at her, she always seemed to know exactly what to say.

“Mione, you and stupid hardly belong in the same sentence.” A grin followed this and she couldn’t help but let the corners of her mouth stretch the same way.

“Oh, turning on the charm are we?” He laughed and she was suddenly very glad she was sitting down. It seemed that this was the icebreaker because thenceforth conversation bubbled like river rapids, up and down and all around. The conversation topics ranged from ‘Hogwarts A History’ the umpteenth updated version to ‘I wonder if Ron and Lavender will get married someday’. Hermione found herself doing most of the talking as Harry made appropriate comments throughout, sometimes making her laugh, sometimes making her take a swing at him.

By the time the butterbeer was gone the conversation had been exhausted.

“Glad I ordered large ones,” Harry said, extending a hand toward Hermione to get out of the booth. She took it and slipped her hand through the crook of his arm.

“Thank you good sir.” He smiled and held the door open for her as they walked into the brisk evening air.

Checking her watch she noticed that it was almost ten o’clock. He saw her and quickly commented,

“No curfew tonight.”

“I know.” They walked down and through the streets, laughing when they reached the point where Ron and Lavendar had been kissing earlier.

Hermione couldn’t help but break into fits of giggles when Harry’s arms came around her to offer her his cloak. He gave a devilish grin and slyly asked,

“Ticklish?” Before she could reply his hands came down around her stomach and lifted her up.

“Harry!” she said, between shrieks and laughter. He flung her over his shoulder and walked over to the bench.

“You’re worse than the Shrieking Shack,” he said as he let her down. Her body slid against his and she was suddenly reminded of her overwhelming desire to taste him. He stared at her. Was this real? Could he kiss her right now? Would it be ok?

Yes.

And no.

Hermione was praying. Please Merlin let Harry see what I’m seeing. The moonlit couple stood there for a full thirty seconds. Hermione counted each second off, hoping it would make the wait shorter.

“Hermione,” his breath was shallow.

“Yes,” it was an answer and a command all in one. Ever so slowly he leaned down. He stood, mere millimeters away from her lips. She licked them in suspense and her tongue managed to graze his lips. Swallowing he decided, it was now or never. Now seemed much more appealing.

So he did.

Their lips met in a sweet incomparable kiss. She fell into him, one hand around his neck and the other on his chest, pulling him closer. His arms went around her waist and a jolt went zipping through his body as every part of her was pressed tightly against him. It was as if he was living a dream over and over again and he never wanted it to end.

The receiving side was much the same. His taste was beyond anything she had ever imagined. Sweet and fiery at the same time she pulled back only for a moment to catch her breath.

“Mio . . .” Her lips pressed urgently against his again. They met no resistance and soon their questing tongues found each other. They stood there for some time in the evening quiet, enjoying a new found taste.

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In the end she decided the answer to her question was yes. And to her happiness and endless amusement, Harry thought it was quite a good idea too.