Disclaimer: Not my characters.

This story is part of my Hermione/Theo mini-series entitled: Of Writing and Falling in Love. Each story/one-shot has a separate plot and characterisation from the others, dependant on the prompt I am given.

Prompt: Must use the phrase 'Post hoc ergo propter hoc.'

Of Memories and Waiting.

11.

They were seated in their usual places reading when a thought suddenly occurred to him.

"It's Yule soon."

Hermione hummed an agreement, resting her book on her knees as she curled up on the sofa. "I'd forgotten it was so soon. There's just so much else to think about." A long meaningful pause followed as they both silently remembered the last couple of months. Looking thoughtful, he too placed his book down and came to sit beside her, resting an arm along behind her head.

"Is there anything you particularly wish for?" She shrugged.

"Not really. I haven't really thought about it. Why?" Leaning his forehead against her hair, he answered her.

"Well, it's just that I have an idea about what I want." His voice was low, merely a whisper through her hair, and Hermione felt alarm bells ring in her head. Warily she extracted herself from his grip. He frowned, before comprehension dawned. "Not to bed you, silly fool." She felt her body relax at his fond tone. "We agreed to wait until we were both ready for that." Earnestly he asked, "You do know I would never pressure you, right?" She smiled.

"Of course I do. But we're getting off topic. What would you like for Christmas?" With a catlike smile, he withdrew a blindfold from the pocket of his worn denims and dangled it in between their faces. Looking confused, Hermione opened her mouth to ask the inevitable question, but he cut it off by speaking first.

"Trust me?"

~TNHG~

She felt his smooth fingers deftly untie the knot at the back of the blindfold, taking great care to ensure no stray hairs were caught. She smiled gently at his thoughtfulness, though it quickly turned to a surprised look when the material fell away to reveal the Burrow's kitchen. She turned in the doorway to face him, watching his calculating look carefully as it turned into a mischievous grin when the perplexity on her own face didn't fade.

"Why have you brought me here?" He chuckled, stepping closer to her and bringing a hand up to cup her cheek. His voice was pitched lower – huskier – causing Hermione to shiver almost involuntarily.

"I wanted to do something that's been plaguing my mind for the last couple of days." Narrowing her eyes in thought she folded her arms across her chest, watching him lean casually against the doorframe. Her voice was teasing when she spoke,

"And what would that be Master Nott?" She watched him carefully as a faint flush rose to his cheeks, eyes looking past her and clouding a little. She bit her lip, fighting the urge to laugh – knowing exactly where his mind had gone.

As if suddenly realising that she was still there he snapped out of his illicit thoughts with a shake of his head before clicking his tongue reprovingly at her. She smiled innocently.

"I feel that showing you would be far easier than telling you."

A brief silence filled the air: Hermione started tapping her foot impatiently.

"Well? I'm waiting." Chuckling again he leant down and kissed her softly, backing her against the doorframe. Hermione sighed, sliding an arm up his torso to tangle her fingers in his hair. He took his time, sliding his lips against hers, exploring her intensely with every pull of his mouth. Opening it slightly, she took the invitation to entwine her tongue with his, eyes closing as her other hand fell to his hip and pulled him closer.

He groaned at her forwardness, grip tightening on her waist before gently bringing it up to brush his thumb against the side of her breast. A satisfied sound welled from the back of her throat and he shivered longingly, pressing his aching hips closer to hers.

The living room door slammed open, and they barely had time to pull away before the harsh light hit their eyes. Hermione turned sheepishly to face the intruders, only to feel her cheeks redden with a hot blush at who it was.

Minerva McGonagall looked a little bemused at Theodore, who – she noticed blithely – was looking more defiant than anything, as if daring them to tell him he was doing something wrong. Her lips twitched with the effort to hold back a smile whilst her companion looked a little shocked.

"Well," he started in his deep voice, "I trust that this won't interfere with any assignments that are given to you?" Hermione frantically nodded, curls brushing Theodore's back. His jaw was tense, chin still jutting out defiantly. He nodded tersely. Kingsley dipped his own head in response. "Good." With that he strode away and up the stairs.

Scuffing the floor with her toes, Hermione looked at her old Professor. The elder woman asked, "I presume this has nothing to do with the seasonal sprig of mistletoe attached to the doorframe?" Eyes widening as she looked upward, Hermione spun to look at Theodore. He shrugged his shoulders helplessly.

"What? I was getting a little jealous of every other male who trapped you under here." She slapped his shoulder.

"So instead of talking through your jealousy with me you decided to just…" She floundered, lost for words.

"Ravish you?" he supplied cheekily, a smile curling the corner of his mouth. Gaping, she hurriedly replied,

"What? No! That's not what I was going to say!" He tsked.

"Should have been."

Minerva chose that moment to interrupt, having a premonition as to what would happen next.

"Well, as delightful as it is to see both of you happy, I'm afraid I must retire for the night – I'm not as young as I used to be." With an expression that was slightly wistful she gave the both a fond smile and went upstairs. Hermione turned her attention back to the male currently smirking at her. He raised his eyebrows.

"What?"

Sighing heavily, she brushed his cheek with the back of her hand.

"I guess at least we don't have to worry about telling them later on." Letting his hands linger as he traced the outline of her torso, he leant down to seal their lips together with a smile.

"There's always a silver lining."

19/09/12

NB: Not having internet is awful. Sorry for major delays until it gets sorted out.