A/N: Very sorry about the late update. A Levels are taking over my life. Mais, voila!

Disclaimer: This story is based on characters and situations created and owned by JK Rowling, various publishers including but not limited to Bloomsbury Books and Warner Bros. Inc. No money is being made and no copyright or trademark infringement is intended.


Awkward Kisses and Bittersweet Stolen Moments

Chapter Two – Sideways Glances

It was all so typical, nothing particularly special about any of it. Ginny had never been one for taking risks and daring to be that little bit different. So sticking to what she knew, having no input from Harry whatsoever, she chose an average, just crossing the right side of "nice", Italian restaurant in Orthogon Alley.

Everyone seemed to be acquainted with a glass of ginger wine in their hand and a genuine smile of affection for the newly engaged couple and it almost seemed like a smile of relief. Everyone in the Wizarding World knew that it would happen and their inevitable marriage was more a question of when than if.

One long table ran down the centre of the high ceilinged building and just like Hogwarts, the ceiling had been enchanted into a clear night sky – stars twinkling like the eyes of Dumbledore once did – and it matched the perfectness of the evening outside. Hermione snorted at the thought, there was no way that someone could have that much luck. But it was it was ignored by the guests who were crammed around the thick mahogany table happily tucking into the delicious food that the chef had levitated from the kitchen.

A familiar pair of large, doe-brown eyes closed as her twelfth drink of the night burned numbly down her throat in one gulp. She swallowed the liquid that had slowly lost its effect and its taste during the course of the evening and opened her eyes – locking her gaze on the "happy couple."

She snorted once more at the sight of the redhead trying to tuck a lock of the raven-haired man's hair behind his ear as she caught the attention of one of her work colleagues trying to strike a conversation up with her. It was quickly resisted by one of his strong hands pushing hers' away and Hermione sniggered at the response. She knew that she was doing it to dangle her great "Harry Potter" in front of everyone – to ensure her success had been duly noted.

"Anyone would know that he hates people touching his hair," she mumbled absentmindedly as she ran her finger round the rim of once again empty wineglass.

"Excuse me?" a voice said from the right of her, "were you talking to me?"

Hermione glanced up from her fixation to be greeted by a plump lady who had ginger hair sprouting out in every direction possible from her head. She looked peculiar, but it was fairly obvious who she was a relative of – not just because of the ginger hair, but because of Harry's want and need to only invited those that actually meant something to him. Hermione knew that it was almost certain that Harry had not met half the people in the room tonight, and that he was becoming increasingly and increasingly agitated by Ginny's want to make a big facade of the whole thing. He had always wanted a small wedding with nothing but his wife, two witnesses and his love to keep him company.

Hermione looked blank at the woman as her mind once again drifted off into the comfort of its limitations before her face lazily broke into a sarcastic smile, "No, no," she spoke, her voice hoarse, "No. Just talking to myself again."

She patted the woman's hand next to her to have the affection not returned. The woman slowly removed Hermione's small hand from her grip and swiftly replaced it with her dining fork from the crystal white table cloth that covered the beautiful, ornate table. Must have been Ginny's ideas again, Hermione thought, there's no way that Harry would cover the naturally intended beauty of the wood.

The woman cleared her throat, "Very well then."

Hermione ignore the comment and found her eyes being met by two very piercing green ones from across the table. She gulped and swallowed her heart that had promptly swelled in her chest and the dry lump that stuck in her throat every time she saw him. But nevertheless she proceeded to hold the gaze. The icy exterior she'd shielded herself with all night, started to thaw and her heart raced against the normal beat that keeps perfect time.

Her heart felt unprepared for this and suddenly she felt herself receding back into her chair feeling very small indeed. She knew he had been watching her all night.

False hope crumbled around her and her now shaking hands fumbled with the crisply folded gold napkin on the table. Studying her own hands, calloused from writing, she avoided him in any other cost. She pretended to completely interested in the table cloth as she ran her fingers lightly over the faint embroidery pattern. After a few seconds, she took a long intake of breath and looked up to find his eyes still locked upon hers.

Feeling very uncomfortable, she shifted in her chair and broke his gaze again and looked down at the plate of untouched cold pasta and started to push the congealed mess around her plate. She really didn't feel like eating. She twirled a piece of spaghetti around her fork and pulled up it up to her mouth. She hastily shoved it in and gagged at the taste. Not having any appetite at all wasn't the best time in the world to be invited to a seven course dinner ignoring the fact that it was an engagement.

She reached for her empty glass to find a small, folded piece of parchment levitating inside. She looked over the table to find Harry's hand poised in level with the paper and his focus on it. She reached inside the glass and saw Harry's hand, in her peripherals, as it dropped to the table.

She carefully unfolded the piece of parchment to reveal an obvious hastily written note.

"Follow me," she recited under her breath from the scribble.

She looked up at him as he was draining the contents of his wine glass, staring intently at her, before he stood up. He brushed the napkin from his lap and bended down to excuse himself in whisper from the table. Turning on his heel, he made his way to the door that lead to the foyer of the restaurant, but not before looking over at Hermione to ensure she was following.

She found herself engrossed in his moment, and the plea in his eye couldn't be ignored. She unceremoniously pulled herself from her slouched sitting position and cleared her throat, "Yeah..."

She stopped herself. There was little to no point in her excusing herself – no one was really paying attention to her anyway.


She stepped out the front door of the restaurant and found Harry leaning with his back against the cold, hard stone of the brick. He sighed and his breath clashed harshly against the cold of the air.

She stood there, drinking the admiration for his graceful stature. She'd fallen so fast and hard, it was unbelievable.

Wrapping the sides of her cardigan around her middle, she spoke softly, "Hey."

His head turned against the wall to face her, and stared frostily at her for what seemed hours, but in reality was seconds. He sniggered at himself, and looked down at the black ground below them before tilting his head towards hers; peeling his back from the wall.

"Hey," he replied with a smile.

She smiled goofily, but remember her place and where they were, "So... what did you want me for?"

He edged closer to her and took a hold of both her hands in his. Rough, calloused fingers ran over her soft palms. She glanced down at their hands. This feels so right, we just "fit" together, she thought.

Looking up, her eyes caught with his and she found herself glued to the floor at his face broke into a wide smile.

He moved his head so his lips were millimetres away from hers. She could taste the ginger wine on his breath as he own breath hitched in her throat.

"This," he said as he placed his lips so they just grazed over hers ever so slightly and her eyes remained shut as he rested his forehead against hers.

This isn't it. It's so wrong that it's right. I can't do this, her mind screamed at her.

"I..." she opened her mouth to speak, but couldn't.

She opened her eyes and curled her fists into balls, pushing them against his chest, "I... I can't do this Harry."

She paused slightly, but then lightly pushed him away from her before turning to the door.

He stood where she had left him, his head hung, "Hermione..." he whispered.

Stopping dead in her tracks, she turned to face him. Her eyes were strong and clear, "I'm sorry," she whispered. Her voice cracked, "I'm doing this for the best Harry."


And she was back at the table again, drowning her thoughts and restraining herself. The drunker she got, the better she'd feel and the longer she's forget about it. Him.

She gazed hazily at her distorted reflection in the empty glass to her left. She didn't recognise herself anymore. Who was this person she'd become?

Red stained lips. Casually coiffed hair. Manicured nails. All of this. All of this she'd become, and for what? Seeking acceptance from society, from friends, and what is much more: seeking that little bit more of attention from Harry.

A woman cleared her throat from across the table and placed her wand to her throat, "Sonorus."

Everyone stopped what they were doing and looked at the red headed woman who was standing up next to Harry, "Hello everyone."

Everyone nodded and she started to speak again, "Well, firstly I'd like to thank everyone for coming tonight. You all look fantastic and I hope you are looking forward to the wedding as much as me and Harry are," she fumbled for his hand and took a hold, gaining a sympathetic sigh from everyone, "Haa. Thanks. But now onto more important measures.

"We've all been very fortunate to survive the war, and I would like to just take this opportunity to recognise what an achievement we have all created and how much work we have all put in to make today what it is..."

Hermione snorted at her remark.

Ginny stopped talking and looked at Hermione, "Excuse me Hermione, do you have something you would like to say?"

Hermione looked up, yeah you bullshitting little bitch, "No. I just got something stuck in my throat. Do go on, I'm enjoying this ever so much," she added sarcastically.

"Harumph," Ginny remarked, "Well, as I was saying. We've all done so much, but we wouldn't be hear without MY," she shared a look with her friends, "husband-to-be Harry!"

The crowd clapped, "And..." Ginny started, trying to calm them down, "And! Well, and I would like to say, Harry, that I love you very much and I hope that we live our lives happily for the rest of our time together."

This earned another round of applause from the audience and Ron exclaimed, "Give him a kiss love!"

She looked down at Harry who was looking down at the table cloth and squeezed his hand. He looked up at Ginny but not before catching Hermione's gaze on him.

Don't.

He stood up with Ginny and smiled sheepishly.

Please.

He gave Ginny a quick kiss.

You've just broke me.

Everyone applauded apart from Hermione who sat looking at the couple. She could feel the tears clouding her vision, but she couldn't let anyone know her secret. She took her bag and stood up from her chair, unnoticed and invisible by everyone.

She could feel his penetrating gaze on her as she left the room, but she couldn't look back. Not now.


A/N: Not the best I have ever written, but it's different never the less. Bit of an "Oh, shit!" moment. Thanks for taking the time to read this, and, in advance if you do, thanks for taking more time to review it. Merci beaucoup!