The words silenced her. She couldn't speak. (Well, duh, she couldn't! The author is so obnoxiously redundant...) She fought for her lips to move, to say something in rebuttal.. but nothing came. She found herself completely vulnerable for the first time since she had visited him that fateful day in Hospital Wing.

"I know I wasn't dreaming, Pansy." he said quietly. "You were there." he looked at her, surveying her as her lips opened and shut, but words were unable to escape.

Pansy blinked and pulled herself away. If she couldn't fend him off with words, she could, at the very least, remove herself from his proximity.

"You said something about letting your guard down around me." he said kindly, "I just want you to know, I am here for you if you need me." something had inspired him. He was normally terrible with the ladies... but the author was just so bad that his extreme out-of-characterness just didn't bother him. He'd be content with snogging her to pieces.

He paused for a second, staring into her apprehensive eyes,

"I feel the same about you." he added, intending his comment to reflect letting his guard down.

Pansy's nostrils flared. She wasn't sure what to do, but, her Slytherin instincts forcing control of her, she folded her arms and fumed,

"Quit pretending you like me." she growled slightly, "You just want me to admit that you weren't dreaming. You should be in Slytherin." she growled.

He remembered the comment the Sorting Hat had made, 'You would have done well in Slytherin.' Perhaps she would have been why?

"You manipulative, kniving, self-centered,..." what else he was he didn't find out. He stood and looked Pansy in the eyes. "...what are you..." He wrapped his arm around the small of her back and gently graced her lips with his own. As she melted into him, she returned his kiss lovingly. Chastity turned to passion and passion to a sudden need for air.

As they broke apart, Pansy stood, bewilderment replaced her once furious, fuming attitude.

"What the hell did you do that for?" she said suddenly, catching her breath. She wasn't angry, she was exorbitantly amused.

"Got you to shut-up didn't it?" Harry responded playfully.

Her eyes sparkled magnificently. She was clearly torn between wanting to snog him senseless (not that he had much sense to begin with, she reminded herself) and wanting to tear him apart.

Then she slapped him, hard.

"Next time you wanna kiss me," she purred seductively, "either do it right or ask first."

Then, she laughed too, unable to control herself in the humor of the moment.

Finally, they had exposed their feelings to one another. Finally they had gotten past their long established emotional and mental barriers. Finally they had realized what was supposed to come of it all.

Pulling him toward her, she leaned in, gracing him with a gentle kiss. As their lips parted, her head rested on his chest. Harry took her hand in his and rocked her ever so subtly, caressing her back with his free hand.

They may finally have gotten past their barriers and house-based grudges, but their friends sure wouldn't have. Harry, and, he was sure Pansy had too, had lied to his friends about their feelings for one other.

Tomorrow was going to be one hell of a day.