A/N: I've long thought the whole "But what if we ruin our friendship" excuse was a terrible reason not to pursue potential happiness.

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"Well, wha-what if we ruin our friendship?"

"Ruin how?" asked Harry thoughtfully. It had never occurred to him that ANYTHING could ruin their friendship.

"Oh… umm… I-well you see-I don't know…" She trailed off looking so distressed at not knowing that it was all Harry could do not to sweep her into his arms and comfort her.

Then Harry actually parsed what she had said. It didn't make sense to him. He considered it again, but it still didn't make any sense. "So you're saying we should consider not pursuing a romantic relationship together because of a reason you don't know?" He finally asked.

Hermione's cheeks colored as she realized what she had actually said. "Well, you see, I never really stopped to consider it before. Originally, it wasn't even my idea, you realize. Ginny asked me how I felt about you since she was planning to try for you, but I told her I have a much stronger claim to you and then she said that she thought we were more like brother and sister." She glanced at Harry's indignant face. "I know! That's exactly how I felt and so I told her she was absolutely mad, because the way I want to run my hands over your body, through your hair, and kiss and squeeze you… well, you get the picture, I think. Then she asked if I wasn't afraid that doing those things might ruin our friendship."

Harry swallowed as he found himself drawn to her enthusiastic expression and chocolate brown eyes. "I do, indeed." Then he blink-blinked as if woken from a trance. "Wait, what did you mean by much stronger claim?"

Eyebrow raised, Hermione just looked at him for a moment. "You're seriously asking that or are you just trying to take the piss out of me?"

"Seriously." He said so gravely that Hermione had to restrain herself from wrapping her arms around him and squeezing his face into her still developing bosom.

"All right. Then allow me to demonstrate. Close your eyes, Harry."

His eyes closed as soon as his brain had comprehended her order. He never stopped to consider when such blind obedience had become commonplace. Oh well. "Done."

"Now, Harry. I want you to really try and picture what I'm about to tell you. Don't open your eyes, but try to imagine everything to best of your ability. Can you do that for me, Harry?"

"Uh huh," he said as he nodded his head, "I think I can do that for you."

"Good, now are your eyes shut tight?"

"Yes."

"All right then. I want you to picture your best friend."

"Okay."

"And you can see Ron clearly in your mind's eye?"

"No."

She put her hands on her burgeoning hips. "And why not?" she asked, a touch of frost entering her voice. Not obeying perfectly was not a good sign. She would have to figure out where she'd gone wrong.

"Because Ron isn't my best friend and you asked me to picture my best friend."

"Oh?" She asked in a surprised tone. That explained how she had erred. He followed the order perfectly, but the order had been wrong. "Who are you picturing?"

"You."

Hermione blushed and then as if on cue, Harry flushed slightly. Hermione noticed. "Harry, how exactly are you picturing me?"

"The same way I do every night, Hermione."

"Which is?"

"With a great big smile."

Oh, that's not so bad. Nothing scandalous either… so why the blush? Hermione wondered. "And?"

"And what?" Asked a clearly puzzled Harry.

"Well, I can't imagine smiling would make you blush like that." She said quite reasonably.

"You'd be amazed what your smile can do."

"Hmph… Are you imagining me posing in stimulating poses?"

"No."

"Then are you imagining me wearing swim clothing?"

"No."

"Llingerie?"

"No."

"Are you imagining me wearing any sort of provocative clothing?"

"No."

Suddenly, an interesting thought occurred to Hermione Jane Granger. Just the thought made her smile brilliantly. "Harry, are you imagining me wearing anything at all besides a smile."

"No."

This frank answer brought an even brighter flush to her cheek, but Harry couldn't appreciate it because his eyes were still closed.

"Although under normal circumstances, I would have no problem with you fantasizing about my naked, smiling form…" she trailed off as her own highly imaginative mind wondered how his mental image of her would stack up to the real thing. Her hands came up to cup her chest and then moved down to trace the outline of her hips. They were coming along nicely so perhaps some comparisons might be in order… for experimental purposes only, of course. Then the smirk returned. Well, there wasn't any rule against having fun while being thorough. And even if there did happen to be such a rule—well, some rules were meant to be bro—no—she couldn't say it. "Ignored." She rolled that word around here tongue for a moment. "—some rules were meant to be ignored." Yes, it lacked something in terms of panache, but she could at least finish that thought. But she was getting off topic.

She cleared her throat. "Ahem… as I was saying I'm fine with you perving on my naked form with a come-hither smile, but right now I need you to imagine your best… um, actually what is Ron to you?"

His blissfully happy smile faded a bit. "Ron? Oh, he's my first friend my same age and I think he's supposed to be my best mate."

"You think?" Hermione asked, unable to keep the dubious tone out of her question.

"I say 'I think' because he was the one that just started referring to himself that way shortly after we met. I wasn't and still am not too sure what a best mate is supposed to do, so I just let him call himself that."

"Right then, please picture Ron… fully clothed, and not eating anything please."

"Don't worry, way ahead of you."

"Now, Ron is Missus Weasley's son, right?"

"One of them, yes." He agreed verbally and with nod.

"She treats you like another son of hers, right?"

"I suppose so. Actually, I think she sometimes treats me better than Ron, but she's always saying I'm like a son to her."

"All right. Now, we've established that you are like a son to the Weasleys. Would you say that is accurate?"

"Yes."

"Which would make you and Ron brothers of a sort, right?"

"I follow you. So?"

"Well, now I want you to picture Ginny."

The somewhat lukewarm smile turned into what some uncharitable folks might classify as a scowl. "Okay."

"Ginny is Missus Weasley's daughter, isn't that so?"

"Uh huh."

"And you're like son to the Weasleys, isn't that also so?"

"I don't like where this is going, but yes."

"So that practically makes you brother and sisters, doesn't it? No, wait, don't answer that! First, I want you to imagine kissing your sister Ginny on the lips!"

Harry dropped to his knees and a horrible look of revulsion appeared in place of his scowl. His eyes miraculously stayed closed. "Yeaccch. Oh, Hermione, that was foul. Why would you make me imagine something like that while putting all that other imagery in my head."

"Oh, I'm not done, Harry."

"You're not?" Harry asked, his voice with a hint of a quaver that normal, non-Hermione people wouldn't have noticed.

"Now, I want you to picture Missus Weasley naked."

Harry covered his mouth to help mentally reinforce his desire not to throw up. "Now you're just being mean."

"Now I want you to realize Harry that Ginny will probably look an awful lot like her mother as she gets older. She's got all the same bone structure if you look closely."

Harry tried shaking his head violently back and forth to rid his mind of the imagery. It wasn't successful.

"Now, Harry, I'm sorry for what I put you through, but I want you picture me, and only me, smiling at you."

The blissful smile returned to his face.

"You should be aware that people often confuse my mother for my older sister when we're out shopping."

"Oh?"

"Yes, I've got wonderful genetics backing me, Harry."

"So, you'll continue to look beautiful for a long time to come?"

"Yes, and if my Grandmum is any indicator, then for a long, long time."

Harry's blissful smile got wider.

"Now, Harry, the second to last thing I want you to do is picture me getting on my knees, leaning forward to kiss you on the lips. Pucker up, Harry."

"Okay, but I feel bloody redic—soft lips touched his."

"Hmm…"

"Oh… wow," he murmured.

The kissing went on for a while. A bit later, Hermione turned to Harry, his eyes now open. "So, who has the strongest claim to you?"

With her hand resting on his chest, Harry couldn't keep the small smile off of his lips as he said, "You. It is most definitely you."

"Good. I'm glad we're agreed." Her other hand came up to rest right along its mate.

"Me too." Harry said in awe as his hands came up of their own volition to grasp her around her waist. He had always known she was slim, but taught muscles surprised and excited him."

"Oh, by the way…" She started to say as she leaned in close to his ear – her voice dropping down into a husky register.

"Yes?"

"Did you want to help me with a series of experiments?" She brushed the side of his cheek with her lips ever so softly.

"Tell me more." He turned to smile at her while simultaneously pulling her closer– his green eyes sparking at the rush he felt.

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A locking and silencing spell was soon followed by the removal of some unnecessary items.

Her gaze made Harry feel all warm and steamy, but Hermione evidently felt at least some small chill in the air. She returned Harry's earlier smile and he couldn't help but be struck at how exactly she looked like the smiling Hermione in his head.