Chapter Seven

Harry and Hermione's Sunday was equally lazy, if not more. Hermione allowed him to sleep in even later than the day before, but she woke him up exactly the same way, determined to use all of this alone-time to their advantage.

The two of them didn't leave the room until the late afternoon to have a picnic in a local park. It was all so domestic, all so perfect, that Harry didn't know how they would go back to hiding behind closed doors once they got back to London.

Not when he realised that he loved this girl. He absolutely adored her.

"I don't want to go back," Hermione declared, lying down on the blanket they'd set out, her head pillowed by Harry's abdomen. It was as if she was reading his thoughts.

Harry's own head was propped up by his jacket and her cardigan. From his position, he could see her clearly. And he loved what he saw.

"We should just stay here forever," she concluded.

"In this very position?"

"Yes."

He laughed, which made her laugh, given that her head was on his solar plexus. "We both know that Luna is expecting you at eight o'clock tonight," he reminded her.

"I know," she said, letting out a long sigh.

"Oh, I know what it is," he said, finding that he couldn't hold back his smile. "You just don't want to spend the night without me, do you?"

Hermione sat up so she could look at him. "This will be the first night that we spend apart since we started this whole thing," she explained. "I don't think I'm ready for it."

"You say the word, I'll Disillusion myself and sneak into your girls' night just so you don't have to sleep without me."

"You'd do that?"

"Maybe the Cloak would be safer though," he said, sounding serious about his plan. "Less chance of getting caught. You know how Luna has that third eye or whatever."

Hermione had to kiss him. She kept it quick because they were in public. There was no need to scar poor unsuspecting people with their wanton ways. "Are you really going to spend the night in the hotel?" she asked.

He nodded. "We have it for one more night, I may as well. And plus, I could actually get some work done, seeing as you won't be around to tempt me with your sexy body and perfect mouth."

She raised an eyebrow. "I'm such a distraction, huh?"

"The best kind."

She kissed him again. "Good answer."

"I'm a smart boy."

"I've taught you well." Hermione gave him one last kiss before she lay down again.

Harry didn't say anything as they both settled down once again. He quite loved silences with Hermione. They were comfortable, calming, even desired. Harry could spend his days like this. He could spend a lifetime like this. With her.

Always with her.

Harry listened to her breathing change, and he peeked a look at her face to see that she was, indeed, asleep. Perhaps she was getting in the sleep now, with him around, before she had to spend the night without him.

Really, Harry wondered if he'd be able to sleep at all. It wasn't just his body that needed her. His mind needed her as well.

Harry was always anxious whenever he wasn't with her, which was why he usually went on a run whenever she was away. Hermione once mentioned to him that he appeared restless but that wasn't really the case. He just missed her. Constantly.

He would never survive the end of this. It would crush him. No woman would ever compare to her. Now that he knew what it was like to be with her this way - every way - why would he ever want anyone else?

Harry let her sleep for quite a while, and she was especially adorable when he was waking her up. She sat up slowly, stretched and settled her eyes on him.

"You're too good to me, Harry Potter," she said sleepily, and his desire roared to life at the tone of her voice. Hermione noticed and she gave him one of those sexy grins that she gave him when she was about to do something naughty.

"Oh, yes please," he whispered.

She laughed. "Come on, let's get back to the hotel. I haven't even packed."

Harry didn't move as she began to gather their things. She made quick work of everything and then she was putting on her shoes.

"Harry," she said, looking at him pointedly.

"I thought we were staying here forever," he said innocently.

"We could, but then I can't exactly do what I want to do to you out here in the open, now can I?"

Harry was up and on his feet so quickly that Hermione had to laugh. "What are you waiting for?" he asked. "Let's go."

Hermione found it all so amusing, really, and she loved the way he played the part for her. He was always eager, always present, always paying attention. Those types of boys were difficult to find. Harry Potter was truly one of a kind.

Hermione left him at ten to eight later that night, dropping her time away from him to as little as possible. Harry was still lying in bed when she gathered her things into her bag, shrunk it and put it in her pocket.

She kissed him long and hard before she left, telling him that she would see him later.

"Later," he whispered.

And then she was gone.

Harry suddenly felt empty without her around. He fell back on the bed and groaned. He needed the next day to arrive already.

Needless to say, Harry didn't get much work done. He just stayed right where he was, his mind thinking about Hermione Granger and what she meant to him.

She was the girl he loved. The woman.

He loved her.

He was in love with her.

He wanted to spend the rest of his life existing just in her presence. Just being with her. Looking at her, talking to her, touching her, holding her, making love to her, loving her. How could he ever tell her?

Harry fell asleep to the memories of Hermione's hands on his body.

And he woke up to the real thing.

Hermione was nestled in his arms, snuggled up against his bare chest. She was asleep, but her hands were on him. Harry felt content, happier than he'd ever felt in all his life. She was here, with him, and he didn't dare move.

Hermione stirred fifteen minutes later to find Harry with his eyes open, a stupid smile on his face.

"Don't you say anything, Harry Potter," Hermione warned as she sat up so she could look at him. "I couldn't do it," she admitted. "I tossed and I turned and I growled and I just couldn't. I mean, it didn't help that it wasn't even my own bed I was sleeping in." She leaned forward and kissed his cheek. "You've spoilt me, Harry. How will I ever survive St Andrew's without you?"

"I'm a wizard, Hermione," he said, as if it were the answer to everything. And, just the fact that she was talking about them still doing this thing even when she was at St Andrew's was making him feel giddy. "What time did you get here?"

"Just after two," she admitted. "Gin and Luna were already asleep. Do you reckon I'll be able to sneak back in without them noticing?"

"What's the time now?"

Hermione checked the nightstand. "A little after nine. They could still be asleep."

"And if they're not? What excuse would you give?"

"Well, I kind of already told them about you without mentioning your name," she admitted, blushing slightly.

His eyes widened. "Exactly what did you tell them?"

"That there is this boy who makes me very happy," she informed him. "And he has an incredibly fine posterior."

"I do, don't I?"

"It's one of my favourite parts of your body."

He raised an eyebrow. "One of, huh? What else are you a fan of?"

Hermione used her right hand to run her fingers over his abdominal muscles. "I love these." She trailed her fingers up to his mouth. "I love your lips." Her fingers moved upwards. "I will never get over how perfect your eyes are." Her hand moved to his hair. "Do I even have to tell you how much I love your hair?"

He was smiling like a fool.

"What parts of my body do you love?" Hermione asked him.

Harry sat up. "I love your hands," he said seriously; "which includes your fingers. They're just perfect."

Hermione looked at her own hands, studying them.

"They fascinate me," Harry elaborated. "And your legs. Hermione, you have legs to die for. I could just stare at them all day, because they just seem to go on and on."

She was blushing. "See? And you wonder why I keep you around."

Harry kissed the top of her head before he got out of bed. "I'm going to shower. I've got to get packed and checked out before eleven."

"I should go, shouldn't I?"

"Unless you want to join me," he offered suggestively.

"Tempting," she said, climbing off the bed as well. "I should go. I'll see you at home."

"Later."

She blew him a kiss, and then she was gone.

Harry was hit by that empty feeling again, which made him feel a bit glum. He headed into the bathroom and went about his business. He checked out of the hotel as soon as he was ready, and then Apparated to the apartment.

Nobody was home.

Ron was probably at the joke shop and Harry didn't have to think where Hermione was.

Harry used the day to write letters and make calls. He had so much to do before the big foundation fundraiser he had planned for the end of August.

Harry wanted to attend the event with Hermione on his arm. He wanted them to go as a real couple. Just how was he supposed to approach that conversation, he had no idea. Especially when she made it very clear that relationships weren't her thing right now. And she seemed to think that they weren't his either.

How egotistical would he have to be to think that he would be the one to change her mind?

It was just before six when Ron returned to the apartment, looking quite worn out. He did, however, look really happy to see his friend.

"How was your weekend?" Ron asked, flopping down onto the couch beside Harry. "Did you manage to get a lot of work done?"

"It was great," Harry answered truthfully. Then: "Sort of."

"You got lucky, didn't you?"

Harry grinned. "Repeatedly."

Ron laughed. "Was it serious lady, or someone new?"

"Serious lady?"

"You know, the one you actually had in your bed, which you never do," Ron reminded him.

"Oh, right, umm, yeah, that one," he said, deciding to be truthful in that regard at least.

"That's like a month now, isn't it?"

It felt like they'd been living this life their whole lives. "A bit more, but yeah."

"A fling?"

"Lots of benefits."

"But you want more?"

Harry wasn't about to be that truthful. "We're having fun. No point in messing with a good thing, right?"

"I suppose," Ron agreed. "You do look fucking happy. It's disgusting."

Harry laughed at that. He did feel disgustingly happy. "How was your weekend?"

"Fine. We did some stock-taking at the shop, which was not fun, but Luna and I visited this club in Cambridge. It was totally whack, but kind of amazing at the same time. Maybe you should check it out. And then, last night, I was sent away while my sister, best friend and girlfriend bitched about boys."

"Did you catch anything useful?"

"Just that Hermione's seeing this guy that she doesn't want anyone to know about," he said thoughtfully. "You know, the last time she was this secretive about a guy, she ended up going with Krum to the Yule Ball... You don't think she's dating Krum?"

Harry swallowed. "I don't think she's dating Krum."

"Out of everyone, you would be the one to know, wouldn't you?"

He blinked. "What?"

"The two of you have that kind of relationship," he replied easily. "You've always been able to talk to each other in a way I've never understood. I mean, you're Harry and Hermione. If Hermione's seeing some guy, you'd be the first person she would tell."

"Well, she hasn't told me," Harry said. Which wasn't exactly a lie, was it? He hadn't exactly been told.

"She's family, Harry," Ron said seriously. "We have to look out for her."

"Don't worry," Harry tried to assure him. "Hermione is smart enough to make good choices."

"She dated Krum."

Harry laughed. "He wasn't terrible. You're just sour about it because you didn't get your chance with her."

"I don't know what you're talking about."

Harry smirked. "Don't think I didn't see what was going on," he said. "And that kiss during the Final Battle?"

"We tried and we failed," Ron said, sounding a bit nostalgic. "It kind of all built up to that one moment, you know. And it was fantastic at the time, but then everything afterwards was always going to be a disappointment, wasn't it? I'm certain that I wouldn't have proved enough for her."

Harry didn't even know how they ended up talking about this.

"It's better we ended when we did. It's giving us the chance to be happy with the people we're supposed to be with."

Harry read something profound in his tone of voice. "Do you think Luna is the one for you? The one for forever?"

Ron looked at Harry for a moment. "Yeah, mate, I do. I can't imagine life without her. I don't even want to." He laughed at himself. "Just don't tell my Mum. She'll start planning the wedding."

"My lips are sealed."

"Don't worry, Harry, you'll find your one for forever one day too," Ron said, putting a hand on Harry's arm.

"What if I already have?"

Ron's eyes snapped towards Harry. "Serious lady?"

Harry nodded once.

"That's a bit quick, isn't it?"

"I can't help it. It's just what I feel, even though we aren't even an official thing."

"So what are you going to do?"

Harry shrugged. "Wait and see what she wants." It was all about her. His Hermione.

Harry was still thinking about his conversation with Ron when he retired to his bedroom, feigning fatigue. Okay, he didn't actually have to fake it. After the events of this weekend, he was exhausted.

He quickly got ready for bed and climbed under the covers, his mind moving a mile a minute. He was thinking a lot of things all at once and it took Hermione's arrival to calm him down.

"Sorry I'm so late," she said, coming to sit on the edge of his bed. "I went to visit my parents."

He smiled at her. "Why are you apologising for that?"

She blushed. "I don't know. I just thought, maybe you missed me."

"I did. I always miss you," he informed her. "But your parents must miss you too and I get to see you all the time. Don't ever apologise for visiting them, okay?"

She nodded. "I know. That was stupid."

He reached for her hand. "Are you coming to bed?"

She took a deep breath. "I've got a few things to do in my bedroom and then I'll be right in there beside you."

"Okay."

She stood up. "Keep my spot warm." She walked out of his door to an empty apartment. Harry didn't blame Ron for not staying. If Ron felt even half of what Harry felt for Hermione; he would have already moved out by now.

Twenty minutes later, Hermione was back, dressed in pyjama shorts and one of his Quidditch shirts. She had a book with her, which she brought into bed with them.

Harry said nothing as he wrapped her up in his arms and watched her read. He nuzzled her neck, placed a kiss on her shoulder, and then he fell asleep.

It was the first night they went to sleep together without having sex at least once in the day.

Suddenly - or not so suddenly - it wasn't just about the sex anymore. It was about so much more.

Not that it ever really was about the sex. At least, not to Harry. If he really allowed himself to think about it; he would have to admit to himself that he brought her home with him that first night because he didn't want anyone else to be with her but him.

After everything that he and Ron had talked about, Harry wanted to be with her in every way. He wanted the best of both worlds - with her.

Always with her.

Before he'd even been with her, he wanted her for himself. And now he doubted he would ever stop wanting her.

For forever.

This time, the shift in their arrangement was immense. Subconsciously, they moved into a stage of their relationship where they were so comfortable in their existence that having Ron around was actually an irritation. It was as if they were harbouring a guest in their home, who always arrived unannounced and just couldn't take a hint.

Harry was finding it really difficult not to be annoyed. He wanted his time with Hermione. He wanted to be able to cuddle with her on their couch, without worrying about someone Apparating in and catching them.

Harry's latent desire to exist as normal with her was only increasing their risk of getting caught by Ron. It was easy to exist in the Muggle world, because they were just any other young couple. But, if Ron ever found out; all the lies they'd been spewing to him, and each other, would be revealed.

Harry, however, could sense an end coming. It was foreboding, and he was wary of it. Soon, she would be going to St Andrew's, and he would be throwing himself into his work with the foundation. They wouldn't be able to keep doing this the way that they were, spending hours of their days in bed, so wrapped up in each other that the rest of the world didn't even exist.

That's how it happened.

Harry's work with the foundation kept him out of the apartment for parts of the day, which was time that Hermione used to start preparing for her upcoming year at University. She was caught between being excited about it and apprehensive about leaving. With her gone for days at a time, would Harry return to his old ways?

Could she give him a reason not to?

Harry would leave the apartment, and then he would come back, and Hermione would welcome him home. It was Harry's favourite part of the day: being able to come home to her. Whenever she heard him arrive, she'd go to the entrance hall and, just for a moment, they could be that normal couple, sharing a welcome-home kiss and telling each other about their days.

They even took to cooking dinner together. Well, Harry cooked and Hermione just sat on the counter and watched him, occasionally earning herself the chance to be kissed senseless.

When Harry sent out the invitations to the foundation's very first fundraiser – a coming out party of sorts – the entire Wizarding Britain was abuzz with excitement, as was the norm whenever the Boy-Who-Lived was involved.

"The Marauders Foundation, huh?" Hermione asked, raising an eyebrow at him. They were in his bed, barely covered by his sheets. It was late at night and she was lying on him, her naked front resting on his.

"I think it's catchy," he said, still somewhat breathless from their earlier exertions. "The MF."

"Sounds like a terrorist group," she told him, trailing kisses along his chest.

"I think you forget, Hermione, that the Marauders were, in fact, terrorists," he said, laughing lightly. He could barely focus on speaking when she was moving on him like that. Those eyes. Those perfect hands.

"So, this fundraiser," she said, her mouth moving upwards, her tongue darting out to taste him. "It's a ball, huh?"

Harry's heart started to race as she practically climbed up his body. "It is," he breathed.

"And what exactly do people do at balls?" she asked, her kisses at his neck, moving towards his jaw.

"Dance."

Hermione placed kisses all over his face, which made him laugh.

"Can you just kiss me already?" he asked, already breathless.

She pulled up so she could see his face. "I'm pretty sure that you're the one who said that we can't always get what we want."

"But I want you," he said.

And then Hermione did something that Harry would never forget. It practically sealed all his feelings for her and then some. She gave him that sexy grin that she usually gave when she was about to do something naughty.

Harry almost told her that he loved her right then and there.

Hermione gently pecked his lips and then made her way downwards, disappearing under the sheets and proceeding to make him the happiest boy on the face of earth. Harry didn't know how they could possibly go back to being friends after this. Really, there had to be a universal rule that said that best friends probably shouldn't be allowed to go down on each other. Harry wouldn't ever be able to look at her the same way.

He didn't ever want to.

He was definitely in love with her.

When Hermione came back up, she was looking quite smug, which was a look that Harry had never seen before. "How'd you like that kiss?" she asked, rolling off of him and onto his right side. She moved to lie on her stomach and gave him the look that now owned him. Consumed him.

Harry rolled onto his side so he could look at her. "I don't think that there's a day that you won't surprise me," he said, still breathless. Really, he didn't think he would ever be able to catch his breath while in her presence.

Hermione just smiled at him before she closed her eyes and proceeded to fall asleep.

Harry just watched her for a while, having to remind himself that this really was Hermione. His Hermione Granger. He couldn't quite imagine that this whole thing started just under two months ago. How had he not seen her this way before?

"Hermione?" he whispered. When she didn't stir, he smiled slightly. This, she didn't need to hear quite yet. "I love you," he said softly. "I love you, and I want to be with you properly, for forever. Do you want that? Would you want that? Would you want me?"

Hermione didn't move.

Harry let out a breath. "When did everything get so complicated?" he asked nobody in particular. Then, sighing once more, he rolled back onto his back and fell asleep.

Hermione woke up to an empty bed. It wasn't unlike Harry to wake up first, but he usually left some sort of way for her to immediately know where he was. She quickly got out of bed, threw on one of his shirts and left his bedroom. She found him in the kitchen, dressed only in his boxers and an apron that said 'Kiss The Chef.' She stood in the doorway and watched him for a moment, taking in all that epitomised Harry Potter.

With him, she definitely wouldn't live a boring life. That was fact.

"Hey you," she said, unable to resist.

He didn't even startle. Instead, he turned towards her, smiling like a school kid, with an egg-lifter held in his right hand. "Morning," he said happily. "I'm making pancakes."

"I can see that," she said, unable to stop herself from returning his smile. "It smells good."

"It tastes even better," he assured her. "Come here and have a taste."

Just from the way that he spoke, Hermione just knew that he had something else on his mind. She was proved correct when she approached him. He practically threw the egg-lifter into the sink before he had her in his arms, his lips finding hers with ease.

"If you missed me so much," she mumbled against his lips; "you could have just woken me."

"That wouldn't have been very gentlemanly of me, would it?"

"Not that it's ever stopped you before," she let him know, laughing lightly as her arms enclosed around his bare shoulders.

Harry didn't even offer her an explanation as he kissed her again, the tenderness of the kiss quickly changing to something short of desperation. In all his life, Harry had never felt anything like this. Only Hermione Granger could make him feel so lost and so deeply grounded at the same time. It amazed him.

And the way he kissed her practically explained it to her, without him having to use words. Just his lips, tongue and his hands.

"Now," Hermione panted, her own hands reaching for the waistband of his boxers. "Now!" she demanded.

Harry was all too willing to oblige, lifting her up onto the counter and standing between her legs.

"Now," she said again. "Please, Harry."

"Okay," Harry breathed, starting to lift up the shirt she was wearing.

And then they heard it. It was a throat clearing, and then someone speaking.

"No. Not okay."

Harry and Hermione sprang apart, Harry turning sharply, making sure that he kept Hermione shielded behind him. He didn't have his wand but he was willing to protect her any way he could. Though, he needn't worry about an attack from the intruder.

Who, incidentally, wasn't an intruder at all.

"So," Ron said , eyeing the both of them. "You two want to tell me what's going on here?"