The first time they did it - kiss - was in Mrs. Weasley's pantry. They'd been on clean-up duty after the big family Sunday brunch. It still surprised them both how ten years after the war they were still regarded as such, always invited, always happily greeted at the door. Hermione's lover had been welcomed with open arms and was now joining the others outside with the mission to teach them football. Hermione couldn't care less about football.
Harry was visiting them all for the summer, coming straight in from where he now lived in Morocco. His skin was tanned from his beach life, but his eyes were just as beautifully green as she remembered. She felt silly for feeling so nervous around him, it was completely out of character for her.
Hermione's hands were covered in soap when it happened, he brushed the hair away from her face, eliciting goosebumps on her skin, somersaults in her stomach. She'd always insisted on doing the dishes the muggle way, it's how she always did it at home with her parents. Harry knew about her parents, he knew how they weren't in her life anymore-Hermione's own fault.
"I've missed you, 'Mione…" he'd whispered to her ears only. The same fingers that had brushed away her hair now grazed the delicate skin of her cheek, going down the curve of her neck, brushing against her ear lobe in its path. She shivered in pleasure, her eyes closing, betraying her. "I'm guessing you missed me too…"
Before Hermione could muster a proper response he closed the sink faucet and with a wandless wave of his hand charmed the dishes to finish washing themselves. He pulled her by the arm into the pantry. Her heart beat wildly in her chest because she had an inkling of what was coming, and thought it's all she's ever wanted, it was wrong in so many ways…
And then his hands cupped her face, his fingers buried into her curls, her breath hitched and the edges of his lips curved into a satisfied smile. Their eyes locked and she saw so much passion in his… Could he tell that she loved him more than anything?
And then he leaned in, she leaned in as well and their lips met for the very first time. It was tender and so full of passion, so full of promise. Soon they were out of air, and though they were hungry for more they heard the clattering of pots and pans from the kitchen and just like that the spell was broken.
Hermione cast her eyes down.
"Since when?" She whispered, not needing to elaborate any further.
"The minute I got on that airplane to leave. You?" She scoffed.
"It's been so long I haven't the faintest idea anymore…"
"Come away with me…"
"It would be betraying him," Harry sighed heavily at her response. Tears welled up in her eyes, he hated to see her so upset, "he doesn't deserve it, he's making all these plans… Marriage, children, a trip to New Zealand…"
"And what of betraying your own heart?"
Hermione was so used to living with pain and loss she hadn't the slightest idea if it would make a difference.