Chapter Six

"Are you okay?"

"Hmm?" Hermione looked up from her coffee into Teddy's curious, albeit slightly concerned, face.

She hadn't realized she'd fallen quiet. The morning had been strangely perfect; of course, she knew he would argue that it would be truly perfect had they actually done more in his bed than simply sleep, but that point aside, she couldn't imagine a more sublime start to the day.

After she'd woken for those few minutes, she'd drifted back out. Following that, she and Teddy had woken at much the same time. Leisurely stretching with delicate, lingering touches and the brushing of lips against skin that weren't quite kisses. Crossing the flat from his bedroom to the kitchen with his arms draped over her as he walked behind her, her fingers twined with his. Making breakfast and coffee together.

All perfect.

Then they'd sat down to eat, and in that comfortable almost-silence of coffee being sipped and utensils tapping plates, she remembered her dreams. Wolf dreams. Wolf dreams that only occurred when she was with Teddy Lupin. Hermione knew she should perhaps be concerned with more real, pressing issues attached to their changing dynamic—like that date she was supposed to be planning, and what sort of explosive reactions they could expect if all this worked out and they made their new romantic status public—but that simply wasn't foremost in her mind just now.

She knew as she watched his brows draw upward while he awaited her response that he had misinterpreted her moment of quiet introspection. That he worried she—now that she was having time to think, time when she wasn't distracted by his touch or they effortless way he made her laugh, or other reminders of how stupidly perfect they were together—was suddenly considering all the ways this was wrong. That she was thinking it a mistake.

"Oh," she breathed out the word and set down her mug. Reaching across the table, she laced her fingers with his and smiled. "I'm fine, honestly. Simply—"

"Oh no." Though he said it with a smirk, she could still see a bit of apprehension in his eyes.

Hermione laughed gently. "Stop it. The 'simply' isn't about this," she assured him, waving her free hand while she spoke to indicate the two of them. And then she frowned and tilted her head. "Well, it is, sort of, but not in a bad way. I think. I don't see how it could be 'bad', only possibly 'odd,' but that doesn't mean it is. Whether it is bad or not, though, it doesn't have any affect on my feelings toward you, or anything we said last night."

Despite the relief he felt at her attempt to clarify things, Teddy's lids fluttered in a series of rapid blinks as he tried to sort the rest of that. Failing, he said, "O—kay. Maybe tell me what's on your mind and we can suss out whether or not it's 'in a bad way,' or 'only possibly odd' together?"

With a shoulder-slumping sigh as though she was about to undertake some arduous task, the witch nodded. Why was this so difficult? Oh, right, because she didn't know what it meant, at all, and she wasn't accustomed to dealing with things of which she did not possess even the most miniscule bit of knowledge. And because she worried it might somehow inadvertently influence Teddy that his fool werewolf notion was something worthy of attempting, after all.

Her fingers tightened their grip on his as she dove in, explaining to him as clearly yet concisely as she could what she recalled. The feelings that overtook her, the simplicity of the scene, the incomparable peacefulness.

While she talked, he lifted their intertwined hands, brushing her knuckles against his lips over and over in a gentle, almost reverent gesture. Oh, he was listening to every word . . . but it was fun to watch her cheeks flood pink and hear trip over her words every so often when her gaze would skitter up to watch his expression while his mouth stroked her skin.

Hermione exhaled sharply, reminding herself carefully that is was no more than the touch of his mouth on her hand, there was no call for getting all worked up about it. "Well?"

Again his brows lifted. It seemed for a moment he completely forgot what she was talking about, accidentally distracting himself with his attempt to fluster her. "Well?" he echoed, before nodding and allowing their hands to drop back to the tabletop.

He sat back, the action drawing attention to his height after the way he'd been half-slumped over his plate. "I . . . I haven't the foggiest idea what to make of that. When did the dreams start? After I told you I wanted to become a werewolf?"

She shrugged, frowning. "At first, I had thought that was the catalyst, yes, because in a way that would make sense. But then the more I thought on it, the more I remembered other times I'd had those dreams, and they were always after I'd spent time with you." Her chestnut eyes narrowed in thought. "I believe the first one was the night of Victoire's wedding."

The expression that came over his face at this information startled her a little. He appeared thunderstruck, a breath rattling out of him.

After a second, he nodded and said in a hushed voice, "When we danced."

Her heart warmed, the responding smile curving her lips completely involuntary. "You remember?"

Biting his lip, he nodded again, still speaking low, "Of course I remember. That . . . that was the night."

A questioning look overtook her features. "The night?"

Teddy opened his mouth to elaborate, but then seemed to think better on it. Clasping both of his hands around one of hers, he shifted closer in his seat and pressed their hands against his heart.

"That was the night I knew I was in love with you."

She thought her heart might stop in her chest. Two years? He'd been feeling this way for two years? What he'd said that morning in The Leaky Cauldron came roaring back into her mind. I can't help that I'm in love with you . . . . I've sincerely tried not to be, but my heart just keeps coming back to you. He'd been suffering through trying to make himself not feel this way. Trying and failing again and again. Putting himself and others through pain all this time.

And she hadn't even been aware of it.

Her throat tightened and she could feel her eyes welling up.

He looked troubled at once. Moving out of his chair, he knelt beside her, their hands still touched over his heart. "Oh, no, no, no! What'd I say wrong?"

She drew in a shuddering breath and sniffled, wondering if there were words to do justice to the dueling sensations in her heart. It ached for his secret anguish, yet at the same time it rejoiced at the idea of anyone loving her so much.

Swallowing hard, she shook her head, cupping his cheek with her free hand. "No, no, you . . . ." Sniffling again, she laughed softly. "You said everything right. I just . . . I can't believe I didn't know. All that time. How thick am I?"

Teddy chuckled, offering a shrug. "To be fair, I did go out of my way to deliberately hide it from you." He sat on the floor, staring up at her still with a light in his eyes that stole her breath. "But, if it helps, it's the only thing I've ever lied to you about."

She smiled, but didn't seem to have any idea what to say to that. She already knew that no matter what nonsense he might offer up to his godfather or anyone else for that matter, he never had been able to lie to her.

Slipping one of his hands from the clasped tangle at his chest, he reached up. Mirroring her gesture, he cupped her cheek, and then slid his hand further, sinking his fingers into her hair to cup the back of her head.

She could feel her cheeks warm all over again as he held her gaze. Her breath quickened at that look.

He smiled even while pressing his teeth into his lower lip. "So . . . ." He cleared his throat and laughed at himself. "I know you said no sex yet, but is snogging still on the table?"

Hermione couldn't stop herself from returning his brightened expression—it probably helped her decision that she knew from last night just what she was getting into if she said yes. "It is."

"Good."

She let out a delighted shriek as he scooped her out of her chair and settled her across his lap. His mouth covered hers and she opened to him eagerly, darting her tongue between his lips to explore and caress. And, for the moment, dreams of wolves, concerns about first 'real' dates, and pending drama of the outside world were completely forgotten in a rush of perfect kisses and curious, delicate touches of fingertips teasing along the edges of clothing.