An Exercise in Depth Perception

"I simply cannot say."

"C'mon Hermione. It's me. You can tell me anything." Harry's wheedling voice and lopsided grin beset me. How's a girl to resist that?

"Oi. You never give up do you?"

"Never."

"Well, come here then. I can't very well tell the whole common room."

"All of this nonsense so she doesn't have to be rude. Your nutters Hermione." My taller, louder, and generally less tactful best friend had watched the exchange with mild disinterest until now. It seems his stomach was, again, ruling his daily activity, and he left Harry and I alone in the common room, off to search for his favorite ticklish pear.

"I don't know why you cannot just say it."

"Oh Honestly Harry! As if I want everyone to know my business. Our business." Sometimes he could be so damn dense. I didn't want to be overheard discussing my personal life (or lack thereof) by the entirety of Gryffindor Tower.

"Have it your way then."

He skittered closer to me, leaning his face into my own, just as I turned and lifted my mouth to his ear. Somewhere in the movement, a terribly miscalculation took place. My lips brushed gently against his throat as I spoke, instead of next to his ear as I had anticipated. I could feel the whispers of a beard with my lips, as I hurried to finish my speech and pull away as quickly and inconspicuously as possible. Perhaps he hadn't noticed.

There was a reddish tinge around his cheeks. Oh, he had definitely noticed. A joke! Brilliant. I laughed nervously.

"Sorry about almost biting you there, Harry."

"I wouldn't call it almost biting." More nervous laughter, from two voices it seemed.

"Erm…" We were drawing stares. Apparently the thought of Harry and I engaged in some sort of biting fiasco intrigued those who overheard our conversation. "Well, that never happened."

He looked a bit taken aback. I continued, hoping he would follow my lead. "Yes, stricken from the record. Never even occurred." My smile wavered as I continued to blush furiously. He continued staring at me as if I was crazy.

"Oh! It is all your bloody fault Harry! You moved so quickly and I didn't anticipate it and oh damn."

It was his turn to break into a shaky grin. "What's all my fault?"

"The…thing. With the whispering! And the…" Damn, I was daft sometimes. My words faded.

"So, I know that never happened and all Hermione, but if such a thing had occurred, do you suppose it would have gone something like this?" He was inching closer to my face with every word. Books and cleverness aside, I never anticipated his next move. His lips brushed my throat.

"Would it be wrong if I was wondrously happy your Hogsmeade visit with Ernie Macmillan was rotten?" The words were whispered against my skin.

I did not respond. Harry's mouth being pressed against my throat left me too much to process without worrying about speech. I sat stock still, vaguely aware of our avid audience and acutely aware of our physical contact.

"Harry?"

"Love?" When did he call me love?

"We should talk about my personal life more often."

While I regained the ability to speak, he had pulled completely away from the touch. I watched a smile grow across his face.

"You know I hate talking about myself."

Finis