Well, I was in Math class, all nice and bored, and this came to mind. So, yeah, this is set in 6th year, yes? Yeah, yeah. Bai.

I don't, in any way or another, own these characters because if I did you KNOW what would've happened, do you not?

"…and it's supposed to smell different to each of us according to what attracts us, and I can smell freshly mown grass and new parchment and-"

"Buckbeak."

Both Harry Potter and Ron Weasley looked up from their newly started game of Wizarding Chess to see a very flustered-looking Hermione Granger.

"Uh, no offence, Hermione, but what are you talking about?" Ron asked her distractedly, already going back to planning a strategy to beat Harry's sorry ass.

"Buckbeak. Buckbeak. Witherwings." She repeated, but this time, her gaze locked on Harry's. "Just- just think about it, okay?"

And with that she walked away from them.

"What was that all about? Whatever. C'mon, let's go back to this; it's almost time to go to bed."

"Yeah, right. Let's do this." Harry answered, but his mind was elsewhere, trying to make sense of what Hermione had just said to him. But suddenly, something came to his mind:

"…and it's supposed to smell different to each of us according to what attracts us, and I can smell freshly mown grass and new parchment and-"

And Buckbeak.

Oh, Merlin.

"Ron, listen. I- I need to go the library, I haven't finished the – err – Charms essay, and I-"

"Blimey, you sounded so much like Hermione there. All right, mate. See you."

"Yeah, see you." And with that, Harry ran away from him.

He walked and walked, looking inside empty classrooms and broom closets, when, finally, he heard a soft sound coming from behind him. He turned around, and there she was, leaning against the wall, looking defiant but beautiful with her arms crossed against her chest.

"You shouldn't be out after hours, you know." She said, raising her eyebrows.

Harry didn't know why, but his breath hitched. Her voice sounds different.

"Was that it? Buckbeak? That was the third thing you smelled?"

She rolled her eyes. "Yes, Harry, you've finally figured it out." She snapped at him, moving away from the wall and taking a step towards him.

"B-but what does that mean?" he asked, and, even though he didn't know exactly why, he took a step towards her, too.

"Well, it obviously means that I'm in love with a hippogriff." She said coldly, standing in front of him.

Harry was extremely confused.

But then…

Something clicked into place:

"You better hold on to me-"

Hermione was holding him very tight around the waist-

"OH."

She rolled her eyes again and opened her mouth to form another retort, but then, Harry, who always acted before thinking, stepped forward, and, closing the distance between them, did something he had never done before, and kissed her on the lips.

To his immense relief, Hermione didn't even think about hesitating, she just wrapped both of her arms around his neck, and he placed his around her waist, pulling her closer, kissing her in a rather bruising way. Tongues crashing and lips parting, and somehow, Harry had gotten Hermione pressed up against the wall. Harry thought that this – whatever this was – was far better than flying on a broom, far better than the Imperius. He would never get enough of how her lips felt pressed against his and he found that he wouldn't really mind doing this all night, it wasn't as though anybody-

"MS. GRANGER, MR. POTTER!"

They both jumped apart at the sound of Professor McGonagall's voice, both red in the face and breathless. They looked at McGonagall, who seemed to be trying to arrange her face into a stern face, but at the same time was trying to stop the smirk that was fighting to appear on her face.

"Ms. Granger, I expected more from you- you are a Prefect. And, Mr. Potter, it is after hours! I am quite sure that your…activities can wait until the morning! Off you go! And please control yourselves while you go back to the common room!"

With that, they both walked away as fast as possible from her, and when they knew they was a lot of distance put between them and the Professor, they broke into laughter.

"I am going to get into so much trouble!" Hermione giggled.

"You're a Prefect!" Harry mocked her. "Merlin, it's as if she's never snogged someone before!"

Hermione covered her eyes with her hand. "Thanks, but I don't need that type of mental images in my mind, Harry." She laughed.

He didn't know why, but he reached out and took the hand that was covering her eyes. She looked up at him, biting her lip, eyes questioning. "W-why did you kiss me, Harry?" she asked softly, dropping the hand that he had grabbed.

"Vanilla. I- well, the first time I smelled Armortentia, the third smell was something flowery that I had smelt at the Burrow, but, then, the other day, when I went to ask Slughorn about the Horcruxes, there was a bit of Armortentia, so I smelled it again, and, well, the smell had changed to-"

"Vanilla." She finished, her eyes going wide. Harry simply nodded, licking his lips nervously.

"That's distracting." Hermione murmured before pressing her lips softly to his.

"You're going to get us in detention." Harry said against her lips.

"I don't mind as long I can do it with you."

"I mean it."

Hermione sighed and stepped away from him. "Fine, but you're scaring me, you're turning into me and I'm turning into you."

Harry laughed and walked beside her, brushing his hand against hers. "Ron said something like that earlier."

"Why? Did you say that you were going-"

"To the library."

They both laughed. Harry realized that he liked this. This…comfort, this happiness, this easiness and it was all thanks to Hermione, he realized. They had just – for a lack of better word – snogged a few minutes ago, and yet, he didn't feel uncomfortable or awkward or anything, he just felt…happy. Like he always felt when he was around her.

"Harry? Are you okay? We're here."

He noticed that they were both standing in front of the Fat Lady, who was giving them a rather scrutinizing look. "And where have you two been?"

"Nowhere." They said that the same time.

Hermione giggled.

"Felix Felicis."

"Fine, then don't answer-"

The common room was empty when they entered it and when they reached their separate staircases; they simultaneously turned towards each other.

"Goodnight, Harry."

"Goodnight, Hermione."

She reached out of his hand and entwined their fingers, he looked down at them, and found out that he quite liked that even though his hand was bigger than hers, they fit perfectly. She smiled at him, and then she was gone.

He dreamed of hippogriffs eating vanilla ice cream that night.

And now you tell me what you thought.

See, that's sort of the way things work around here.

Anyways…

"Imperio!"

Hehehehehe.