Not Like a Sister
"Hermione. I, I... I don't know what to say. I've always seen you as a sister."
His cinnamon-eyed know-it-all raised her eyebrows. "Like a sister. Of course. You treat me just like Ron treats Ginny, or like the twins treat her. Or Jason and Cillie. Hm?"
"Uh..."
"And you've never had... interesting reactions toward me? At the Yule Ball you weren't looking at me the way Ron looked at Ginny. Seemed more like the way you looked at Cho, or even Parvati."
"Uh, well..."
"And your dreams. Do you ever-"
"I don't wanna talk about that!" He blushed and looked away.
"Mmm. I thought so. Either you're one sick adolescent perv, or you definitely do not see me as a sister."
Hermione stepped closer to Harry. She took hold of his tie, right under the knot, and lightly touched one finger on his lips and ran it down over his chin and along his jawline. His vision sharpened and he could barely breathe.
"You don't, do you? Feel like a brother toward me? I know I don't feel like a sister toward you."
Her face was close to his. He felt the warm breath from her open mouth, and he saw only her half-lidded eyes.
"Let's try something." She was whispering, but he could hear nothing else. "If you're disgusted with it, then maybe I am like a sister to you. But if you like it..."-her breathing softened, and she barely made a sound-"...you can have as much as you want."
She slowly, so slowly, raised her lips to his.
He didn't push her away.
Ever.