Hi everyone,

I was incredibly touched by the sweet messages I received after last update. Thank you all for being so kind!

This update: Hermione sets Harry straight and there is a warning for smut (and teeth rotting fluff) in this chapter.

Stay safe and sound and, wherever you are, I hope my story is able to bring you some joy and warmth.

Love, Flora

Chapter 38: How Harry was kind of stupid to forget that Hermione was brilliant, but scary

'So, in short... She knows,' Harry concluded, shoving down another spoon of chicken Marsala, as he sat opposite of Hermione.

'And, apparently, has known far longer than we could've imagined.'

'Well, that's Aunty Penelope for you.'

They chuckled a bit.

It was Friday, suppertime, and Harry had just gotten back from his meeting with Aunty Penelope. He had been glad for her support - the jewelry in the box, which Harry had cast a few "Notice-Me-Not"-charms on, as to not reveal its magical properties to the Muggle woman, had been confronting, but with Aunty Penelope's warm, soft hands on his arm for comfort, he'd been able to sort through the contents without too much trouble. There had been a lot of earrings and some small tiara's too - delicate bracelets and some smaller necklaces, one which James had presumably given to Lily, as it had been a small pendant with a moving picture of them inside of it. It was all beautiful and it gave life to the family Harry had always fantasized about. Whenever Harry had felt emotional, Aunty Penelope had cheered him up by putting a tiara on her head, demanding to be treated like a queen. His love for the woman grew by each visit and it made it all the more meaningful that they shared the experience together.

Then, the rings. There had been a few dozen of them - small ones, big ones, silver ones, golden ones. Some had been enchanted to move or change color, some were just too grotesque to even consider gifting Hermione, but the majority where actually really nice and delicate. They finally decided on a ring with a small rose quartz, actually carved in the shape of a rose, on a small golden band, with leaflets covering the sides. It was magical, the leaves slowly turning around the ornate stone, but Aunty Penelope hadn't noticed. Harry liked the swirling - it reminded him of the rose wreath Hermione would conjure for his parents, weaving their leaves together in a similar pattern. He just hoped she'd like it as much as he did.

'And, why did you go to Aunty Penelope again?' Hermione asked pointedly.

Of course she had to bring it up again. It had been her first question when he told her he visited her great-aunt, but he had hoped he'd permanently dodged the remark by talking over her. Merlin, she was so thorough.

'I wanted to visit someone who felt like family,' he answered, truthfully. Lying to Hermione was never wise, he'd found that out years ago.

'Right,' Hermione nodded. 'Great food, by the way. I was famished.'

'You're welcome.'

Harry felt relieved Hermione dropped the subject. He hadn't want to tell her about the meeting with Aunty Penelope at all, but not telling Hermione about her Aunty finding out about them just felt wrong, even when it was to hide an engagement ring.

A few seconds were spent in comfortable silence. Harry took a bit more rice and sucked a spare grain off his thumb, until he saw she had a pensieve look. Oh no.

'But why Aunty, though,' she said, as Harry tried forcefully to hide his wince. 'Nicky and Ron feel like family. The entire Weasley-family does, by the way. And Teddy is even closer to family than them.'

'None of them are sweet grandmothers,' Harry replied casually.

'Andromeda is.'

'Right. Yes, that's true.' Damn it.

There was a silence. Hermione got up from the table, kissed him on the forehead and refilled their glasses of water from the tab. She'd changed into simple jeans as soon as she got home, tired of her stockings and heels. Harry didn't like the silence brooding, he knew she didn't quite trust what he was saying and she had every right to. He guessed there was a down-side to dating your best friend. The fact they knew immediately if you hid something from them.

'Okay...' Harry hesitated, understanding that he needed to do some form of concession. 'I went to Aunty because... I visited the Potter vault.'

Another silence, but this one was as heavy as a pregnant Erumpent. Hermione stared at him - a stare that was full of questions, a dash of worry and a bit of... betrayal?

'I'm sorry I didn't mention it to you, but I thought of it on the spot and... Well... It's just that I've been thinking about my family a lot lately and because we need a lead on the Goblins I figured it would be the right way to not draw attention to myself when-...'

'What?' Hermione interrupted, with a sudden snap.

'Isn't it?' Harry said. 'Visiting your own vault is not suspicious, right, and-...'

'Wait a minute! Harry - did your visit your vault to talk with a Goblin to get intel for our case?'

Another silence. Harry cringed his face a bit.

'Yes? There's nothing wrong with that, is it?'

'Harry, everything is wrong with that,' Hermione yelped. 'You are on thin ice! Everything you decide about information on the case, should be passed onto your superior-...'

'I did,' Harry said, quickly, relieved she was just worried about technicalities. 'I talked it over with Greengrass-...'

'You... You what?'

Oh Merlin. Harry felt dread creep up on him - he was back in fourth year, revealing to Hermione he hadn't actually figured out the egg at all.

'Isn't that... Isn't that right?'

'No!' Hermione yelled. She was properly angry now.

'But, I thought-...'

'Harry, Greengrass isn't your direct superior, remember? I am!'

Shit. Shit, she was absolutely right. Harry felt his throat run dry and before he could open his mouth, Hermione did.

'You should have gone to me first to ask for that! Not only have you totally overstepped your boundaries by going on a made-up mission as an intern, but you've betrayed my trust! I thought we were in this together, Harry. I did you a huge favour-...'

'I know, I know,' Harry interjected.

'And you're just going along, playing rogue agent as you please! Harry - you were fired for a reason. For acting without thinking. And now you've informed my supervisor of something that you made your mind up about, without me knowing about it. How do you think this makes me look?'

'I- I don't know, I didn't think about that-...'

'Well you should!' Hermione shouted now, standing up from the table. 'I'm risking my career for you, Harry!'

Harry felt desperate. He looked at Hermione, who was heaving a bit too much to be upset just about this event alone.

'I'm sorry, Hermione, I truly-...'

'Yes, well, so am I! What did you do, exactly?'

'I just struck a conversation with the Goblin who helped me. His name was Pindark, he seemed friendly enough, and at the end I gave him my card-...'

'You gave him your card? The business card you have with your name and contact info on it?'

'Yes - what I always used to do, back as an-...'

'YOU ARE NOT AN AUROR ANYMORE, HARRY!' she shouted now, sharing a scary resemblance with a livid Molly Weasley. 'We don't go around, play private detective! We are lawyers! Everything we do has to be recorded and in accordance to our laws, we need to play clean, don't you understand? For Merlin's sake - you can't parade your status like some peacock anymore! It doesn't work like that!'

That hurt. Harry scoffed.

'I don't "parade my status"-...'

'You literally did, Harry. You literally gave your personal card with your name stamped on it in golden letters. Mister Harry Potter. Merlin Harry - you act like you don't know what your name means. The gravity it holds. What if this goblin is not to be trusted? What if there is a link between Nott and them and he passes your card on to him? Don't you know the consequences it may give? He could lure you into a trap - tapping the thing thrice and sending you straight into an ambush. You are vulnerable Harry! Maybe the most vulnerable you've been since the War!'

She sniffed, desperately trying not to show how hurt she was, and sat down again. Then she rudely wiped the angry tears of her face, avoiding eye-contact and stared at her plate.

'We'll have to talk professionally about this, you know. Monday morning. My office.'

She scratched her chest. Harry knew her scar hurt.

He felt awful.

'I-... I wasn't thinking straight. I'm sorry, Hermione. It was never my intention to hurt you. I would never want to hurt you.'

She didn't reply, but took her fork and ate a bit of chicken.

'I didn't really mean to give my card like that. But Pindark talked about his family and his wife, who is expecting, and if Nott is really doing all these things near goblins... He is vulnerable too. The other goblins didn't want assist me to my vault, you know. Because of my history. And when I went to my vault and saw everything inside I just... Panicked a bit.'

She stopped eating. The uneasiness in her shoulders confirmed what Harry had suspected.

'The whole time I was there, I kept cursing myself that I hadn't brought you along with me. So I chickened out. I walked in a bit, but couldn't take it. Seeing everything like that, stacked in one room. It hurt a bit too much, I guess.'

'Why didn't you invite me along, then?' Hermione asked, her voice a lot thinner.

'I wanted...'

He could tell her a lie. Tell her he wanted to go alone, that he needed to face his family vault as the only heir It would be a reasonable explanation. A wrong one, but still.

Or, he could be honest, and risk exposing his plan to propose.

'I wanted to get something from the vault.'

He paused slightly. She looked at him now.

'Something special. For you.'

She lay down her fork. She looked so young, suddenly, so vulnerable.

'Something special for me?'

'Yes,' Harry said. 'Something special for my girlfriend. Whom I love, very much. And, as you'd like to phrase it, I got my knickers in a twist over it and jumped into it too impulsively, thinking I could kill two birds with one stone. Didn't think about the consequences. Or how it would affect me, or anyone else. As per usual.'

He took her hand and she accepted his touch, looking at how their fingers intertwined.

'I'm sorry. I didn't mean any harm, but that doesn't make it any less foolish. I'll formerly apologize to Greengrass too. And we'll talk it over on Monday, see if we can do some damage control. And make sure it doesn't happen again.'

'You can't promise that,' Hermione said, bluntly. 'You're Harry - you'll say you'll never do it again and the next day you're storming off to Merlin-knows-where just because your gut tells you to.'

Harry nodded, sullenly.

'You'll just break about every rule in existence, just to help someone in need. That's just who you are. Who you'll always will be.'

And then, a tiny smile, a hint of amusement. Harry felt the tension subside.

'That's why I care so much about you. You stubborn idiot.'

'I deserve that,' Harry nodded in agreement. 'I am an absolute idiot.'

'Not an absolute idiot,' Hermione recanted, a hint of mischief in her eye. 'I mean, you did end up with me, didn't you?'

Hermione leaned over the table, to kiss him softly on the lips.

'And I love you too, by the way.'

Harry chuckled, ruffling his hair a bit with his free hand.

'Do you want to know what the vault looks like?'

After dinner, they settled on the couch. Hermione had shown great interest in the vault - not just the little library, as he expected, but she was also thrilled about the potionstation and the supposed portraits.

'Well, don't get your hopes up,' she said, hopping in her place of excitement, all disagreements forgotten at the prospect of a new project 'paintings are enchanted to imitate some phrases of the persons they resemble - they're not nearly the right thing. The paintings of the Headmaster's at Hogwarts are kept in a closet nearby their desk, so they can actually develop some social skills that fit their character, but I've never heard of an actual family doing it like that. Still, fascinating! It would be so much fun to see what your ancestors look like, and-...'

Harry looked at her fondly as she rambled off, then springing up as if something had pricked her and marching to one of her bookcases to check a theory she had. She popped back on the couch, nestling against his chest and engrossing herself in a book called Ancient Wizarding Families and Their Most Note-worthy Traditions.

'Is it a good surprise?' she asked, after a good twenty minutes. Harry laughed, not expecting a question anymore.

'Do you honestly think I'd tell you if it was a bad one?

'I don't know,' she said, worrying her lip, her eyes still focused on the page in front of her. 'Maybe. Probably not, no.'

He chuckled and placed a soft kiss in the nape of her neck. Her frizzy hair tickled his nose.

'Does-... Aunty Penelope know?'

'Stop asking questions, nosy Nancy,' Harry quipped. 'You know far too much already. Just read your book.'

Hermione playfully elbowed him in the ribs, scolding him for calling her that, but then snuggled back into his arms.

The smell of her hair was distracting. She felt so good, resting against his chest. Harry placed a kiss in her neck again, and then another. Hermione's body responded to him, giving him easier access, but she kept her eyes on her pages. He smiled at the sight, curling his hands under her sweater, darting his fingertips against the bare skin of her hips.

'I'm sorry,' he whispered. 'I know we fought and all, but damnit Hermione, you just...'

She leaned back into him more, urging him to move his hands further under her sweater, making him caress her rib cage. Finally, when his hands reached under her bra to lightly pinch her nipples, she put the book away, closing her eyes and eliciting a moan. Before he knew it, she turned around, placed herself in his lap and locked her lips with him. He removed one hand from her shirt to curl inside her hair, the other started fumbling with the backside clasps of her bra. She thrashed against him, causing a lower part of him to stiffen, her tongue was full and invading his mouth.

'Hermione,' Harry groaned, her riding on his lap driving him positively insane. He wanted to feel her against him, skin to skin, heat to heat, devouring each other and succumbing to the sensation that started to roar through his body.

Then, a swooshing-sound. Hermione detached herself from his lips just in time for them to hear a dreamy voice.

'Oh - I haven't mistaken the date, have I? I know the wrackspurts have been plaguing me an awful lot lately... I can come back at a later time, if that's more convenient-...'

Luna!

'No, not at all,' Hermione replied with a fake grin on her face, trying desperately to avoid Luna seeing her bra was still untied under her sweater. 'We, ehm-... We're ready for you, yes, of course.'

She moved from his lap, so Harry could see one of his best friends, her blonde hair and large, blue eyes bulging at them with curiosity and affection.

'Well, I'm not joining you or anything. I mean, Neville and I have visited cultures where they are a lot more polyamorous, but it's just not for us. Strange, I never took you two for being into that sort of thing either.'

'We're not!' Hermione sputtered, red as a beet. 'I didn't mean by-... When I said "we're ready for you", I didn't-...'

Harry wheezed with laughter as he stood up, enveloping Luna in a loose embrace.

'Good to see you, Luna. How have you been?'

Hermione puffed and excused herself to the bathroom.

When Harry awoke the next morning, he felt Hermione's arm around his waist, steading him against her lap in a foetal position. Her head rested against his back: she was snoring and drooling in his pyjama shirt – he felt a wet patch just below his shoulder blade. He chuckled.

She had spooned him again. Her breasts felt nice and soft against his back, her legs warm and comforting against his. Her hands: one seemingly clutched against her cheek, the other placed leisurely around his hipbone, seemed to swing with her slow and steady breathing. Their warmth combined together was intoxicating and he realized he felt completely safe.

He sighed against the sheets and allowed himself to shudder a bit. Going through their history together with Luna yesterday did give him some pleasant memories. Their relationship had developed so quickly: first he had never thought about Hermione that way (or, at least, he'd lied to himself so many times he'd blocked the idea completely), then he had kissed her that first time and his head had been filled with nothing but her. The weeks after that had been torture: dancing around each other, both not daring to speak their minds because of how bad it could go if one of them wasn't on the same page.

And then, in just one day, suddenly they were. And he'd kissed her again, and he'd felt her against him, and he'd opened himself up to her. It was such a quick progression, he realized he'd written it off as a fluke, or something to enjoy while it lasted. Subconsciously, he'd never thought he'd experience any realness. Love was a tough thing. Harry cared – he always had, but he was afraid of losing everything he had. It had happened to him far too many times to not scar him in some way. He had always been cautious – it was a necessity, a way to cope.

Somehow he wondered if he would have ever been able to let himself experience something like this if it wasn't for Hermione. She had been the only constant factor in his life – never wavering, always ready and there and lending a shoulder or offering support. Everyone had turned on him in some point of his life – even Ron. But Hermione? Never. He had a hard time showing his true colours, opening up, to anyone in that matter.

They had their first fight yesterday. Their first proper disagreement as a couple - or well, it wasn't really a disagreement. He had messed up, she had called him out, he had apologized. And even when she was angry at him, when she was hurt, she still loved him.

He realized that maybe, if he played it right, he found the person in his life who would never leave him, come what may. It was a feeling Harry only recently allowed himself to relish in and it was incredible.

He stepped out of bed and took a long look at Hermione, who was protesting in her sleep for the loss of contact, rubbing her face and turned the other way, tangling her huge mane of hair even further in the process. Merlin, he loved her. She didn't begrudge him for his actions of yesterday - she'd forgiven him. They'd fight the professional battle on Monday, but not in their home and certainly not in their bed.

When Luna had gone, after an interview in which they decided to not disclose any details about how they got together (to avoid lying and messing up at the same time - who said Harry was a hard-learner?), but that did last a far lot longer than anticipated, especially when a photographer was flooed in to take some candid shots of them together, they'd been absolutely knackered. No matter how turned on he had been before Luna disturbed them, they both fell asleep as soon as their faces hit the pillows. He still felt the desire linger in his body, though.

He threw his pyjama shirt in the hamper, showered, and put on a clean pair of boxer shorts. When he walked out of the bathroom, he noticed Hermione again, who had thrown off part of her bed covers. Her top was crumbled, riding up around her hips and pulled down near her breasts, showing him every tempting bit of skin. She made a slight mumble. Harry stirred, feeling a hotness start to burn in his stomach, trickling dangerously southwards towards his loins.

He wanted her. God, he wanted her, in any way she would have him.

He scolded himself. Jesus Christ, she was sleeping! She was innocently slumbering, and here he was, imagining a vivid image that would have earned him a direct cold shower not a few months ago. She was resting, they'd had a row yesterday, it just wouldn't be appropriate. Would it?

He looked at her, as he dried his hair a bit rougher with his towel. The clock on the wall showed quarter to ten. There was plenty of time this morning - they hadn't planned on anything, after all. He could step into the bed again, pulling her closer against him… He imagined the contact of her body against his, as he would kiss the soft nape of her neck, her soft breathing increasing because of the feeling of his member pressing against her-…

Fuck. Now he was horny. Harry grunted audibly and then he shook his head. No, he wasn't to act on these stupid impulses again. They'd had this conversation yesterday, there was no way he was going to throw caution to the wind and-…

Before he knew it, he felt his body walk over to the edge of the bed, drop his towel to the floor, push his boxer down his legs and snuggle under the covers with her. She stirred a bit as she accepted his arms immediately, allowing them to close around her.

'Hermione,' he hoarsely whispered, his mouth pressing an investigative kiss just beneath her ear. She felt just as delicious against his skin as she had yesterday and he wanted to nibble at her until she couldn't think straight anymore.

'Hmm,' she replied, husky from sleep.

'Would you mind if I ate you out, right now?'

She startled a bit.

'What?' she asked, sleepily.

'You heard,' he whispered, pressing against her. Merlin, he acted way bolder than he felt.

One sleepy hand reached out behind her, touching Harry's hipbone. He heard her breath quicken and deepen immediately when she realized he wasn't wearing anything. It caused his member to twitch against her back and she mewled. She mewled.

'I-... No, I wouldn't... But Harry...'

'Good,' he replied, placing his hands firmer around her, placing a sloppy kiss on her shoulder.

'Harry...' she repeated.

He halted, eliciting a "hmm?"

'I... I haven't shaved yet...'

He moved away from her shoulder a bit, seeing her worried face. She was wide awake now, her brow furrowed.

'So?'

'I wanted to do it this morning, but-...'

'Hermione,' he interrupted, 'I am horny as hell, you look absolutely perfect just the way you are. I don't give the foggiest, I just want to get my head between your legs. Like, right now.'

'Oh... Are you sure? I mean, I can jump into the shower right-...'

'Oh no, I can't wait that long. Let me bloody show you how sure I am,' Harry grumbled, tossing the blankets aside. Hermione squealed, laughing as she felt Harry spread her legs and lapping at the inside of her thighs. Her laughter soon faded into mewls and moans and pleads, as Harry plastered her thighs with marks and kisses and sloppy licks. He made quick work of her shorts and knickers, delving down into her heat. Hermione made a high pitched noise full of desire that Harry felt was both cute and absurdly hot.

Harry didn't particularly care for the taste, but he loved the power it gave him, the sounds she made, the looks she gave. She was nothing short of breathtaking when she allowed him to be so dominant and caring at the same time. He took his time, bringing her over the edge two times before using his fingers to slowly open her up for him. She was yanking on his hair, in utter bliss, eyes closed and mouth trembling as she felt him curl his fingers inside of her. He made sure to keep his eyes fixed on her face, her beautiful, vulnerable face, and when she came down from her third high and looked down on him, he swore he could feel their magic connect through their gaze. It didn't matter she scratched his scalp so much he surely bled a little - he didn't want it any other way.

He placed small kisses along her spine until he was pressed up against her back again, his fingers still embedded inside of her. She responded to his lips immediately, opening her mouth and allowing him to push his tongue inside, sharing her taste. He kissed her frantically and wantonly, she moved up and down on his fingers, arching her back against him, awkwardly bending her arm to feel his body against her hands, to touch him as he was touching her. Their tongues danced and their lips melted - it was a choreographed move, their mouths used to each other's presence.

Hermione broke off the kiss, still arching against his fingers, breathing against him.

'Please, I wanna-... Please.'

She tried to move on her side to face him, but Harry helped her lay on her back, her rear still tilted against him.

'No,' he whispered, 'like this. I want to take you like this.'

'Fine, whatever you want. Just move for crying out loud...'

She sounded almost irritated and Harry laughed, removing his fingers from her.

'Oh, is someone a little eager?'

'Yesss,' Hermione hissed, bucking against him. He used a hand to slightly pinch at a nipple and she made that mewling sound again.

'I need you to say it,' Harry said, his mind cloudy with lust. With his other hand, he grabbed his penis and slowly stroked the sensitive head against the folds of Hermione's entrance.

She moaned at the contact and threw her head against his shoulder. He rubbed her nipple again, in tandem with his member against her core.

'Hermione, pay attention,' he whispered. 'Don't you hear what I'm saying?'

'Harry!' she whined. He laughed.

'I want you to say it. Say how eager you are.'

He loved teasing her, loved seeing her shudder against his body because of all the pleasure he was giving her.

'I want you,' she whispered back, in a tone that made Harry almost come instantaneously. 'I want you inside of me, Harry.'

He swore, rubbing against her a bit faster. There was no way in hell he was going to last if he didn't act fast. He removed his hand from his penis and lifted her leg, giving him better angle in their spooning position.

'I love you so much,' he breathed, angling himself. 'You have no idea... Hermione.'

Her name was poetry on his lips as he slowly entered. He made sure to be gentle, sensitive to her body, and eventhough he wasn't facing her directly, he made sure they were as intimate as they could be. His right arm was underneath her body, holding her tightly against his chest, allowing his fingers to play with her breasts. His other hand supported the weight of her leg as he kept guiding himself into her heat, slowly, steadily. Hermione's head lay back on the pillow, her hair cascading in waves across the linnen, her throat exposed and vulnerable. She looked so absolutely devine, and he hummed against the soft flesh underneath her jaw, kissing and licking and grasping and sucking, wanting to worship her, wanting to devour her. She felt so incredible around him, warm and soft and demanding and right.

She dangled her foot over Harry's hip, to help him gain deeper access. They moaned in unison at the newfound angle - it squeezed in just the right places, making Harry hold on to Hermione even tighter, almost drinking in her body.

She brought her right hand to his jaw, turning his lips towards her lips, and they both sighed against their mouths. Gosh, this was incredible.

'You're being so gentle,' Hermione purred when they broke loose. She ruffled through his hair, his mouth finding a way to her neck again.

'Do you like that?'

'I love it. I love you.'

She cooed, clearly enjoying the soft pace for a while, and Harry continued to roll his hips against her core, feeling her whole body ripple against his skin. They made love for several minutes, kissing each other, aching against each other.

Harry felt the desire build up inside of him. He loved being lovey-dovey with her, but he wanted more. The smoldering fire had burned long enough, he wanted it to ignite and consume him entirely.

'Can I-...'

He didn't get the chance to finish his sentence or she responded. Hermione had her eyes closed, her lids fluttering, reacting to him slowly hitting that sweet spot over and over and over and over, but she still managed to open her eyes at his question and burn into his soul, reciprocating his want immediately.

'You bet,' was her answer.

Harry then started thrusting up into her, testing her limits, building it slowly. She completely surrendered - her noises, her expressions - she seemed completely unhinged and Harry thought she couldn't look sexier.

He went faster and faster, until he heard their bodies make the most obscene sounds. He didn't lose himself completely, because he didn't dare thrust against her cervix, but he lost as much restrain as he could allow himself and man, was it worth it. She was incredibly vocal, his Hermione, and he showered her in kisses as he moved inside of her, chasing after the feeling of completion they both craved so much.

Finally he stopped holding her leg up to rub her most sensitive spot and that caused her to topple over the edge, thrashing and squeezing around him, and Harry thought he would burst. Her tightness was just too much to handle, he saw stars and stilled inside of her and thought that if he would die right at that very moment, he wouldn't notice, because he was feeling so much at once he couldn't possibly feel anything ever again.

He felt her turn in his arms, her tanktop now exposing both of her breasts, as she sat up straight and cast a cleaning charm on them.

'That was an amazing position,' Hermione said. 'You hit the right spot almost all the time... Definitely something to write down and remember.'

Harry chuckled and kissed her on the forehead. They hadn't needed contraception spells for weeks now, as Hermione got herself prescribed both muggle and magical medicine to keep a pregnancy at bay. After another searing, loving kiss, and another look at her to remember how utterly breathtaking she looked after sex, he went to the bathroom.

When he came back and laid back on the bed on his side, his head propped up on his elbow, he found Hermione had put on one of his dress shirts. She sat in a cross legged position, her back against the headboard of her bed, writing in a small, red book. She was engrossed in whatever she had written down and it made Harry laugh.

'Merlin, Hermione. Please don't tell me those are your notes.'

'No, they're my diary,' she noted. 'I keep it in my nightstand.'

He arched an eyebrow and now she laughed too.

'But yes, I entrust some of my sexual experiences to my dairy, and I do write down which positions I like best. There's no crime in there, right?'

'Not at all,' he said fondly, 'I don't mind you doing research to benefit our love life. I do, however, mind you stealing my clothes, Hermione.'

She rolled her eyes amused and looked at him intently before she went writing again. He grinned at her boyishly and crawled forward to give her a kiss.

'All jokes aside - that was really amazing,' he whispered, and Hermione laughed - a beautiful, warm laugh, that filled the room.

'It was. Thank you for giving me the most amazing wake-up call.'

He shot finger guns at her before resuming his previous position; lying on his side, his arm on his elbow, studying her.

She snorted.

'I wish I could capture how you look right now,' she said. 'It's just... I can't.'

'Draw me like one of your French girls, Hermione.'

Hermione snickered as Harry made a very boasting smirk with his face.

'I can't draw. You know I can't draw. And when did you become interested in the Titanic?'

'Not since Kate Winslet was topless in it, that's for sure,' he replied, earning him another eyeroll and a playful slap.

'A girl I had a one night stand with insisted on watching it with me,' he explained. 'It was a bit awkward.'

'Hmm,' did Hermione nod, seemingly engrossed in what she was writing down. 'And did you take her into a carriage, if you know what I mean?'

Now Harry eyerolled. He took seat next to her and pulled the blanket over his lap. Hermione noticed and smiled.

'You can put the blanket down, you know.'

'I know,' Harry shrugged.

'It's just that me talking about your one night stands makes you feel awkward, right?'

He had been ruffling his hair again, he noticed, because Hermione tried to bat a very rebellious strand of black hair back in place.

'A bit,' he admitted.

'Don't,' Hermione replied. 'Not for my sake. I'm not jealous of those girls. Never been. Never will be.'

'I don't get that,' Harry replied. 'You are so insecure in other ways. No offense...'

'None taken,' she replied, looking at him. 'Nicky asked me the same thing the other day. I always knew what those girls meant to you. When you were seeing them, I knew you didn't feel any connection to them.'

'But still, don't... You don't think I'm some...'

'Slut?' Hermione laughed. 'Didn't this messed up, mysogynistic society tell you that we just use that phrase to shame women for enjoying sex? Honestly Harry, I could never think that about you.'

'Yes, but there were many of them. And they were more experienced than you. You don't get insecure because of that?'

'Well, no,' Hermione said, now focusing entirely on Harry and not on her book. 'I have my insecurities, but they are about me as a person. I never doubted our love or loyalty, Harry. I wouldn't compare me to those other girls in a million years.'

'Good,' Harry said, relieved. 'I wouldn't want you to.'

'Don't worry. I knew that it didn't mean anything. That it was something you needed to do. If anything, I'm both grateful and I also feel a bit guilty for it.'

She bit her lip and rubbed the frown between her eyebrows.

'Guilty?' Harry asked, perplexed. 'Why?'

'Because I saw you were hurting,' Hermione replied. 'We talked about it, and you said it was meaningless and just you trying to meet other people. I knew you were lying. Maybe not on purpose, maybe just to yourself, but lying nonetheless. And I didn't stop you or pressure you about it.'

'You were hurting too, Hermione. You were in therapy.'

She smiled again, but this time it was a sad smile.

'I know. Still. I wish I could have done more, been a better friend.'

'You started an honest conversation about it,' Harry said, friendly. 'That's more than the others did for me. Do you remember Ron bragging-...'

'Yes, Merlin, please don't remind me-...'

They rehashed the evening after Harry's Auror graduation party, where Ron had dared Harry to pick up girls from their favorite pub, boasting about how good his friend's "track-record" was. He had been loud, abrasive and incredibly unsuccessful that evening. At the end of the night, they'd thrown a very drunk Ron in his bed together, putting a bucket next to his bed. He'd slurred to them that "no missy could ever tie this bad boy down!"

He met Nicky a few days later.

'Okay,' Harry chuckled. 'So, that was the guilty part. Which, honestly, don't. If you also feel guilty about it, it makes it all the more complicated for me.'

'I'll try not to,' Hermione nodded, sealing her red leather book with a spell.

'And the grateful part?'

Hermione looked at him with eyes that said everything.

'Ah. Right.'

'Right,' Hermione repeated. 'So, shower?'