Summary: "I don't want you to go."

Disclaimer: Why, yes, I do in fact own Harry Potter. Oh… wait… this is a Harry/Hermione story. I must be delusional. Never mind then…

"I don't want you to go." Shaking his head, he immediately took another step closed to her, quickening his pace in his distress.

Her hip and neck seemed to draw his hands to them, like magnets. With his hands placed strategically to pull her in, he did so, entering her into a passionate and desperate kiss. He wanted her, he craved her, he needed her. He loved her.

Wind, and a train whistle, blew. The couple lost on the platform, forgotten to the rest of the world, returning the favor, didn't notice while lost in each other's lips, thoughts, and their own urges. They had both been feeling this for some time, and for a long while, they had never thought it would happen.

(They had planned, hoped, and prayed that admitting this would make the feelings stop. Unfortunately, as past experiences would show, the heart looses contact with the head soon after falling in love. Denying themselves did nothing but make them feel worse when the thoughts would arise, yet again, as they always would, and often.)

As the train slowly pulled out, as the clicks of the wheels going over the tracks began and then quickened to a steady rhythm, they finally broke apart. At first, stunned at what had happened, but soon the amazement vanished leaving in its stead a sense of overwhelming and controlling joy.

They had finally done it. Few times had either one of them felt such an absolute thrill in completion. Once, on a particularly late night, when Harry had just finished a long, unnecessary essay assigned by the resident potions master, of course he had been hard at work and the joy was only brought on because of the delusional state that occurs every so often in the wee hours of the morning to overworked students. Another time was when the horcruxes were finally destroyed.

They had, then, embraced in a celebratory manner (and possibly lingering in such a state then would have been necessary or expected of "for the last time, we are just friends."). Of course, soon thereafter, a quick blush set in and they turned to other accompaniments as they could.

But this? This was something different. It was the unexplainable, unreversible, unequivocal joy. But this time it was as shared joy on such a direct link that it intensified and mutated into a new type of longing and feeling. A longing for more, a feeling of completion.

When they separated, they, so fond or this closeness, were unable and unwilling to fully end the precious but precarious moment, and set their foreheads against each other.

In such an awkward position to see his eyes, Hermione settled for looking at his lips. "Harry?"

He loved how her lips looked when they spoke his name, "Yes, Hermione?" She loved how they looked when they moved at all.

"This is horribly cliché."

He smiled, genuinely and she met it with one of her own. "I know. But hasn't everything we've done been sort of cliché?"

"Yes, I suppose it has."

"So you know what clichés are to come?" She smiled, more broadly, and it only grew under the kiss that Harry gave her. Sealing his offer of his forever with a kiss, which was met in stride by her own.

Author's Note: Sort of jumped into the moment with this one, the rest doesn't matter much. Though maybe I should complete the story? Different then what I've done before, I'm actually quite proud of this one. Mainly because it all happened in one sitting. In the "wee" wee hours of the morning. Well, thanks for reading in any case : A review would be much appreciated.