A/N: Updating faster than I usually do. Woohoo! I can only hope you're having as much fun reading this as I am writing it. Just to let you know, it's going to get juicy in this chapter. Apologies for having taken so long to get to it. ;) Enjoy!

BRRRRRRRRRRRING.

"Are you kidding me?" Harry groaned as he was woken up for the third time that month by a phone ringing. He put on his glasses and rubbed his forehead, rolling over to lift the receiver.

BRRRR—"Hello?" he answered, cutting off the ring before it could wake Hermione up. She had an amazing talent, being able to sleep through that racket. The person on the other end yawned into the phone. My thoughts exactly.

"Oh, good morning, Harry," said Hermione's father tiredly. "Are you two up yet?"

"Not really, why?"

"Sorry for waking you up. It's—" Harmon yawned loudly, making Harry yawn as well "—just that my wife woke me up to tell me that she's arranged a day outing for everybody. The tour bus will be here in half an hour. Thought you ought to know."

Harry groaned. "Half an hour?"

"You'll be ready by then?"

"We'll try," Harry said, only half joking, and said goodbye, hanging up the phone. He fell back into the pillows and shut his eyes for a minute, then reluctantly rolled over and tapped Hermione on the arm. She ignored it. He sighed and tossed the sheets off of him, going round to the end of the bed and reaching under the bedspread to tickle her feet. She jerked them up to her torso, stuck her tongue out at him, and covered her head with a pillow. Harry took it away, and uncovered her on the bed. "Up," he said. "Your mother booked a tour for everyone today, and the bus is coming in half an hour."

"Why?" Hermione wailed. "Can't it wait until later? After lunch? After dinner? Tomorrow?"

"Nope. Bus drivers don't like that. Come on, up. It'll be fun," he said firmly, going into the bathroom to let her properly wake up. She was grumpy all the way up until they got out of the room. When they arrived at the lobby, there was a veritable crowd waiting for them. Hermione couldn't help but lighten up when Kate hung off her arm and declared that she was going to spend the whole day with her. Harry privately suspected that Kate was Hermione's favourite, too. The bus arrived a few minutes after they did. They almost left Rose and Adele behind when they hadn't shown up by the time everyone was settled on the bus, but they came hurrying up just as it was about to drive off. Adele shot Harry a dark look, as though it had been his idea to leave without her. He shrugged to himself. He couldn't win every battle.

The tour took them throughout Varadero, the guide over the intercom speaking in quick, clipped English and telling them all what they were seeing. Harry memorized the names of promising-sounding nightclubs so that he could suggest them later when everyone was bored. The bus stopped at the end of the island, and everyone streamed out to see the tower of Quixote. There was a comical sculpture, visible from the road, of Don Quixote chasing his wayward horse beside the tower. Kate began jumping up and down in excitement when she saw a couple of rickshaws pull up beside the tour bus. "I want to ride in one, I wanna ride in one! Can I mum, please please please?"

Delia sighed. "It costs money, dear. Maybe another time."

Hermione glanced sidelong at Harry, and he winked, nodding. He walked over to Delia and her crestfallen daughter. "We'll take her," he offered. "I don't mean to spoil her, but we're on vacation. That is, if you're alright with it."

Kate's eyes lit up and she tugged at her mother's sleeve anxiously. "Mum, please?"

"That's very kind of you, Harry. Are you sure you don't mind?"

"Not at all. I'll have her home by four," he said winningly, and Delia laughed. Kate clapped delightedly and hugged him around the middle. He tousled her hair, and glanced up at Hermione. She had an odd look on her face. Half smiling, half...something else. Harry shrugged it off and disentangled himself from the girl, walking over to one of the rickshaw drivers. When the driver saw Kate's hopeful, shining face, he gave Harry a ten percent discount on the trip back to their hotel. The price had probably been that to begin with, but it made Harry feel good anyway.

When everyone piled back into the bus, he, Kate and Hermione got into the rickshaw, Kate sitting on the side so she could look out the window. Harry sat in the middle to allow Hermione the same privilege, and leaned back to enjoy the ride. He had his arm around Hermione; it was almost habit now. Several young Cuban men whistled and blew kisses at Hermione as they drove by, making her laugh and blush. "Do they always do that?" she asked when a fourth man did it.

"Only to pretty girls," Harry nodded, and Hermione rolled her eyes and elbowed him. Kate poked Harry's arm.

"Am I a pretty girl?"

Harry laughed. "Of course! You're the prettiest thing any of these people have ever seen."

"Prettier than Aunt 'Mione?" Kate asked cheekily, and Hermione leaned her head around Harry to stick out her tongue.

Harry leaned close as if confiding something very confidential. "Even prettier than Aunt 'Mione, but don't tell her I said that!" Kate giggled and nodded, loving the compliment and the secrecy. Harry smiled. He was confident that she adored him now, if she hadn't before. When the rickshaw arrived at the hotel, Harry and Hermione took Kate to the pool. It had a really neat waterfall-waterslide that the six-year-old loved. They swam with her for a while, and then brought lunch out to the square so they could eat and still watch her.

They spent the afternoon lounging by the pool, Kate in and out of the water and playing with other children who were staying at the hotel as well. Harry read a book that Hermione had let him borrow, while she read another one. Harry put down his book for a while and squinted up at the sky, then around at her. Relaxing on her long deck chair, she didn't notice him watching her. He had never really noticed her legs before, Hermione not being one to show off her body, but they were in full view now. Neither of them had bothered to put on clothes over their swimsuits after getting out of the pool. Harry lifted an eyebrow appreciatively. They were long and smooth, and nicely formed. His eyes wandered up to her midsection—flat as a board, he noted in mild surprise—and then unavoidably to her chest. Her breasts swelled into the bikini top, the curved lines drawing his gaze down her cleavage to the buckle in the middle. Her shoulders were gaining a healthy tan—all her skin was—and her neck arched gracefully forward to support her head as she tilted it to read her book. Harry swallowed. She looked good.

The power of his stare drew her attention, and she glanced up at him. "What?" she said when she saw him looking. Harry blinked, and shook his head.

"Nothing, sorry." He turned back to his book, but kept reading the same sentence over and over. What had that been? He thought maybe he was falling too deep into his role as her lover. It was just Hermione, after all. They'd been best friends for ten years now. He didn't want to mess things up by lusting after her. As soon as he thought it, he almost laughed out loud. Lusting and Hermione didn't belong in the same sentence. He felt bad for thinking it, but it was true. He grinned and turned the page in his book, satisfied that he was sane again.

When the tour bus got back around six, the rest of Hermione's family poured out of it into the lobby, chattering happily about all the sights they'd seen. The lobby, having only the one wall behind the desk, was open on both sides to the driveway and the main square. Harry and Hermione waved to them all, staying seated. Kate gushed to her mother about how nice her aunt and her boyfriend had been to her all afternoon, letting her do whatever she wanted as long as they could see her.

Sitting at the table after dinner with several of the family, Harry suggested to Hermione that they go for a walk along the beach to watch the sun set. She couldn't very well say no in front of everyone, so she smiled and agreed. They got up and left the pavilion, Harry's arm around her waist until they were well out of view and on the sand. They strolled along for a while in comfortable silence. Harry pointed out a pair of dolphins leaping far out in the ocean. Hermione gasped in wonder and stopped to watch. When the animals disappeared, she turned to Harry. "That was a one-of-a-kind thing," she said.

"Yeah, pretty amazing," he nodded, his eyes on her. She smiled and hooked her arm through his as they continued walking. "So how do you like Cuba?" he asked.

"I love it here. The climate, the colours, the beaches and water; I'd move here if I could afford it, and if I could find some other witches and wizards somewhere." Harry blinked at the mention of their brethren. He'd been enjoying himself so much he'd almost forgotten he was a wizard. His wand was stowed at the bottom of his suitcase, but he hadn't touched it since London. Magic was off-limits in such densely populated areas. The odds of a Muggle seeing were too great. Harry watched the clouds move across the setting sun as they strolled along, the light waning and bathing everything in an orange glow. Even the waves seemed burnished gold. They walked aimlessly, talking idly about anything that came to mind.

"How do you think you're faring, with the inheritance I mean?"

"It's going perfectly," she sighed happily. "I couldn't ask for a better person to convince them. Really."

"Well, you make it easy," he said, and she smiled. Harry realized that they were standing very close to each other. There was perhaps six inches of space between them. He could feel her breath on his neck as she watched him. "Very easy." His logical mind had deserted him. Hermione swayed forward the tiniest bit, and he inched closer, tracing a finger lightly up the outside of her arm. She looked down at it.

"There's no one out here watching," she whispered. "You don't have to be all...all..."

"I know," he said, his voice sounding husky and low. She looked up and met his eyes, and that broke it for him. He slipped his hand through her hair to the back of her head and pulled her mouth to his without thought to her reaction. After a stiff moment she responded, winding one arm around his neck and deepening the kiss. His breath quickened. Heat surged through him, and Harry's wits returned with a crash. He broke off the kiss and pushed himself away, stumbling as the sand shifted under his feet, panting a little. Hermione stood staring at him in shock, eyes wide. He didn't fully understand what had just happened. They stood there awkwardly for a few very long seconds until Harry cleared his throat. "Er...s-sorry," he muttered. He had never felt this horrifically embarrassed before in his life.

Hermione couldn't look him in the eye. "It—it's okay," she said, trying and failing to sound casual. She hugged herself uncomfortably as a breeze came up. Harry coughed weakly.

"I think we should go back now," he said, feeling very disturbed that he wanted to tuck a few stray locks of her hair behind her ear. Cuba was obviously having some adverse effects on his brain. He'd have to look up the magical influence of the combined scents of sugarcane and sea air on a person when he got back to London. They started walking back to the hotel in silence, keeping a firm distance between them until they came within sight of their building. Harry didn't put his arm around her like he normally would, instead electing to just hold her hand. It felt sweaty in his. Attractive, he thought to himself, and was surprised to discover that the sarcasm was half-hearted.

They arrived at the room without having spoken a word to each other since the beach. Harry jumped in the shower and was out again in two minutes, leaving it empty for Hermione. He slipped in between the sheets on the bed, first removing the elaborately folded towel in the shape of a swan that the maid had left, and tried to fall asleep quickly so that he wouldn't have to feel like he was sharing a bed with her. Funny how until now, he hadn't minded. Damn. He'd messed things up. The quiet patter of the shower reached his ears, and he wanted to put a pillow over his head. What had possessed him to kiss her? The ocean air, the sunset, the general ambience of the quiet Cuban evening...quiet Cuban evening, his ass. Maybe someone had slipped some Amortentia into his San Francisco that afternoon. Not likely, though; he and Hermione were the only witch and wizard he knew of for miles around. He supposed that all witches and wizards took vacations sometimes, but what were the odds that one was staying at the same hotel they were, and on top of that had taken the trouble to slip some Amortentia to a happy couple? Well—a happy couple to all eyes, anyway.

Hermione entered from the bathroom holding her clothes under one arm, dressed in am uncharacteristically skimpy nightgown. Harry opened one eye at her, and blinked. She saw him looking and flushed a furious dark red, not meeting his eyes. "It's the only one I have left," she muttered, looking the most uncomfortable he'd ever seen her. "I have to wash the other one. My friend bought it for me. I don't know why I took it. These two were the only clean ones I had." She was rambling, Harry noticed. She realized it and stopped. Taking a breath as if to steady herself, she turned to put her clothes on the growing pile in her suitcase and sat down on the other side of the bed across from Harry. She lay down on her side, mirroring him, so that they were both facing away from each other. "Don't steal the covers tonight," she mumbled, and was quiet.

Harry had trouble sleeping. He was all too aware of the rising and falling of the sheet behind him with her breathing. He tried to stay still and not toss or turn, though he itched to. Oddly, he got the feeling that Hermione was forcing herself to be still as well, though she gave him no reason to think that except that she was unmoving. Her breaths weren't deep enough for her to be asleep, he realized after a while. She was just as wide awake as he was.

That uncomfortable feeling left him wondering why. Was she distressed about what he'd done? He didn't think it was that big a deal, but then again, she hadn't seen anyone since Ron. A kiss to her was probably much more significant than it was to him. Not to mention we're friends and not just two people who can hook up. That was true too. So why had he done it?

Harry sighed and pulled the sheets a bit further over to his side of the bed. Immediately he felt a hard yank on them as she tugged them back over to her side. He rolled over to stare at her—he'd been right, she was awake—but she didn't turn to look at him, just pretended she was asleep. Harry grinned, unable to help it, and shook his head, lying back down. This time he fell asleep quickly, and dreamed of the colour blue.