"Harry, I need your help."

That was a sentence he has heard many times, although the occasions had become rarer since the start of their sixth year. The practical parts of Defence against the Dark Arts and Charms had both been areas where he had excelled, and many an hour had been spent teaching each other in the Gryffindor Common Room. But during this term, Harry had lost his edge because silent casting was now a requirement in all subjects, and no matter how hard he tried, he could not master that method. And given how often they had arguments about the Half-Blood Prince, they rarely studied together anymore.

"What's the matter?" he asked and put down the essay he had been writing. Only then did he realise that his friend looked quite flushed.

"I need you to take me to Professor Slughorn's Christmas Party, as a date."

"Sure - Wait, what?"

"I am tired of Ron rubbing Lavender into my face, quite literally as of a few minutes ago?"

"Literally?"

"He had pressed her face-first against the door of a broom cupboard, and you have three guesses who opened that cupboard," Hermione grumbled.

"Hmm, Luna?"

"No."

"Malfoy?"

"Colder than the North Pole."

"Well, it couldn't possibly have been you."

"Of course not. So, are you in?"

"I'm not sure if I can follow your logic there."

"It is quite simple really, whatever Ron is feeling for Lavender, he puts a lot of effort into making sure that I witness their relationship. He asked for my patrol schedule and I've come across him in a broom cupboard every time for the last fortnight. So that got me thinking, what he does, I can, too. It will be like during the Tournament, people will gossip about us for a week or two, at which point they will realise that we were not dating and go back to whatever they were doing before."

"But this time, we would actually go on a date."

"That's an easy question, you didn't want to show up at Slughorn's party stag, so you asked your friend."

Now Ron was his mate and Lavender was a nice girl, definitely easy on the eyes, but he could have really done without hearing her moan loudly around his best friend. Or the sounds Ron had made in response. It definitely felt as if they were putting on a show for anyone within hearing range. And since he couldn't sleep with Ginny while Ron had to listen to it through a thin curtain, this would probably be the closest he would get to giving his friend a taste of his own medicine. So maybe this insane plot would actually work and his friends would talk to each other again. And if nothing else, it got him a date for Slughorn's party without having to endure one of those weird girls who kept staring at his scar as if his cock was dangling from his forehead.

"So, how do you want to do this?"

"Well, it has to look like a real date, so suit up. Some dancing will probably be in order. And we will have to touch a lot."

"Hermione, you have been giving me hugs twice a day ever since, well basically since the graveyard," Harry pointed out and decided not to mention that recently, this had almost stopped. It had been odd at first, but as things got bleaker and bleaker, he had started to enjoy those short moments of calm and closeness. And given some of the nightmares and visions he got from Voldemort, he had needed those hugs. "As for the dancing, if I don't have to open the ball while watching the girl I wanted to go with next to me, I'll manage."

"Good, we ought to look convincing."

"Are you sure you know what you are getting into? This could become all sorts of weird."

"I might not trust your judgement when it comes to used books, but I trust you. We will manage."

Begrudgingly, Harry had to admit that this fake date wasn't half bad. Hermione on his arm turned out to be a very effective shield against the usual networking going on during the Slug club. The old Professor might be keen to make connections, but he seemed to respect dates. And for the first time in months, they could spend a whole evening as friends. Food was plentiful and Slughorn had provided a wide range of beverages, so it felt like the late hours after a Quidditch victory, and unlike the previous celebration, he was not forced to play peacemaker in that strange love triangle.

"Knut for your thoughts?"

"This is nicer than I expected. With everything going on this year, I didn't even realise that I really needed a break."

"It's been a mess, hasn't it? And judging by the things Dumbledore is teaching you, it will only get worse."

"Unfortunately, I think you are spot on. But enough of that gloomy talk, I don't think we would be convincing if we both look like we expect Death Eaters to come through that door," Harry said the moment the door swung open and Filch poked his head in.

"Close enough," Hermione chuckled and took Harry's hand. "Come on, it isn't every day that you get the opportunity to drink a 19th-century wine."

"You drink?"

"I enjoy a good wine. The perils of spending a few weeks in France every year."

"Oh no," he said before he couldn't keep his serious expression up and burst out laughing.

"Do you prefer red or white?"

"I never had any, I only tried some Firewhiskey from the twins. And the eggnog when we were at Grimmauld."

"Don't remind me," said Hermione, grimacing. "I had a headache for three days!"

"Really? I didn't notice."

"No, you were too busy staring at Hestia and Tonks," Hermione said with a roll of her eyes.

"In my defence, that was the first time I saw two witches kiss. And they went a little beyond a friendly peck on the cheek."

"Don't make excuses, you kept staring at them until we returned to Hogwarts."

"Well, they might have done it again."

"Oh, Harry, sometimes you are an old soul, but sometimes you are such a boy! Now come on, time to introduce you to the joys of good wine. Some of these bottles cost a fortune, so we ought to make good use of the opportunity."

An hour later, they were back on the dance floor, one of the few couples who were not sitting at the tables with food or drink. Harry could feel a lot of eyes on them, but for once he wasn't bothered by it. He felt warm, and not just from the wine they had drunk, or the dancing. Hermione looked absolutely stunning in her pale caramel dress that hugged her body in all the right places. He felt the envious looks on his back, yet he relished them, even if he had no idea why.

"You know, this is better than I expected."

"Oh?"

"Slughorn is leaving me alone, the food was good, as is the company. Even dancing with you has been fun. I never expected to actually enjoy it, especially since I'm pants at it," Harry said with a sense of deja vu.

"You're alright, you just need more practice. Dancing is fun, at least with the right partner."

"I wouldn't know, I only ever danced during the Yule Ball, and that was not a nice night."

"Poor Parvati."

"Hey - Alright, fair," Harry said and decided that perhaps he should apologise to his former date. Maybe he would get her some chocolate for Christmas or something like that.

"She had been looking forward to the Ball for months."

"Great, now I feel bad."

"You should. If you ask out a girl, you should pay attention to her."

"Does that mean you should pay attention to me?"

"That's what I am doing. We are looking at your previous faux pas so that you can avoid a repeat."

"Somehow, I doubt that if I do this with a girl, I would get a second date."

"Perhaps this is best used for pretend dates," Hermione conceded and then spun him around.

"Did you just twirl me?"

"Maybe," she replied, her brown eyes twinkling with mirth. "Having to lead is a bit confusing as a woman. Or maybe I'm just not used to it."

"I'm not used to dancing, but I could get used to this. Dancing with a pretty girl is surprisingly fun," Harry said and enjoyed the deep blush that spread across Hermione's face. Not that he would have dared to say such a thing to anyone else, or been able to say it without stuttering. With her, it felt like messing with a friend, a bit of harmless banter.

"Oh please, you know this isn't how I usually look."

"No, but it is still you. You just clean up nicely. Very nicely."

Hermione swatted his arm at the exaggerated leer, but the red on her cheeks would not disappear.

"Wanker!"

"How do you know?"

She snorted and swatted Harry again, and once more when he pretended that she had struck a mortal blow.

"People are looking at us."

"That's your fault, for once," he pointed out.

"My fault?"

"That dress makes it hard to look elsewhere."

"Really?" Hermione asked and blushed even more. "Do you want to go somewhere where we won't be stared at like animals in the zoo?"

"I think in your case, it's more like a nice painting in a museum."

Against Harry's expectations, they did not go to the nearest empty classroom. Instead, Hermione weaved through secret passages until they reached a familiar tapestry with dancing trolls. They entered the Room of Requirement and stepped into a miniature copy of the Gryffindor Common Room. It was empty of people, but soft music was playing, together with the crackle of the fireplace the only sound to be heard.

Hermione took his hands and pulled him into the starting position as she once again took the lead, although this time the dance felt more intimate. Due to her heels, they were the same height, and when she rested her head on his shoulder, he finally tracked down the elusive scent he had noticed a few times over the evening.

"Do you have a new perfume?"

"It's hair oil, vanilla-scented. I went for a different style than at the Yule Ball, this way I don't need to straighten it that much," she explained and loosened the knot on top of her head, leaving her with a ponytail.

"It looks stunning, just like the rest of you."

Hermione kept her eyes closed and pressed her face against his robe as if she was trying to hide. They continued to dance, although as time passed, their technique got more and more sloppy. By the time the record ran its course and the last notes of the piano had faded into silence, they were in a swaying hug rather than dancing properly. It felt a little odd to do this, but also right.

Suddenly, the only sound in the room was the fire and their noses were less than an inch apart. Their eyes met and Harry found it impossible to look away from the warm, brown gaze. He had no idea how long they stayed like that, but suddenly Hermione's lips were on his. For a moment, time seemed to stand still as he tried to wrap his mind around what was happening before he gave it up as a lost cause and returned the kiss.

Hermione snaked an arm around his neck and pulled him even closer, her thumb playing with a few strands of his hair. In return, he deepened the kiss. After their dozenth break for air, he ran his hands over her back, feeling the warmth of her body through the thin fabric of her dress, marvelling at the texture beneath his fingers. At the same time, Harry trailed kisses past her jaw and down her throat until he found a spot where he made her shiver. Doubling down there, he coaxed a wanton moan past her lips and then, in the blink of an eye, his dress robes were gone.

Hermione pushed him back against a table and then jumped onto his lap, straddling him before she began to snog him earnestly. None of this was going according to plan, but when her tongue slipped into his mouth, Harry found himself unable to care. He did not have experience with this kind of frantic snogging, the playful pecks he had gotten from the Chasers were over far too quickly, and Cho had been hesitant whenever they kissed. Hermione on the other hand was forceful and demanding with her affections, leaving him breath- and speechless.

There was a certain surreality to the fact that Harry was kneading his friend's ass through her dress while she did her best to get his trousers down but couldn't get past the belt. At the same time, this was far from the weirdest thing that had happened to him at Hogwarts, so he just rolled with it. Not that he could have stopped, or wanted to.

"Can you get the zipper?" Hermione whispered against his lips, her eyes dark with desire.

For a moment, Harry froze and stared at his friend. A voice at the back of his head shouted that they should not be doing this, but everything they had done so far had felt good. He might be able to throw off Voldemort's Imperius, but this temptation proved too strong to resist. With his hand trembling, it took him three attempts to catch the small metal bit and two to pull it down. She stood up, took a step back and shrugged the sleeves off her shoulders.

"Surprise," Hermione giggled when the fabric slid down her body and pooled at her feet, leaving her in nothing but a pair of lacy black knickers which also served as garter belt for her stockings. And when she saw the dumbstruck expression on his face, she burst out laughing despite the blush spreading across her face. "Oh Harry."

"Who are you and what have you done to Hermione Granger?"

"Wanker," she mumbled lovingly before bringing their lips together. "I couldn't wear a bra under the dress, it would ruin the shape."

"I'm not complaining, and after seeing you like this, I'm not even going to pretend that you won't keep me up late at night," Harry replied. While still stunned by this turn of events and the overall situation, this time he reacted. Pulling her close, he ran his hands over her skin, soaking in the warmth radiating from his friend, trying to touch her everywhere. He moved past her hips and their kiss turned into a moan when he found nothing but bare skin there as well. "Are you trying to kill me?"

"It would be a memorable way to go, but don't you dare to die on me!" Hermione said fiercely, her voice thick with emotion.

"I'm not going anywhere."

"Good. Now take off your shirt."

Harry was used to being bossed around by Hermione, but this was definitely new. Not that he minded. He fumbled around with the buttons that seemingly were glued to the fabric and it took him embarrassingly long to shed the shirt. When he looked up from the button he had accidentally torn off, he saw Hermione taking off her shoes. Although the way she was bent over had to be entirely for his benefit, since now he had a visual to go with what his hands had discovered. The way the black lace thinned to a narrow strap between her cheeks was a sight he would not forget anytime soon, and before Harry could stop himself, he palmed her ass roughly. Unfortunately, that happened at the exact moment Hermione tried to stand up again, so he threw her off balance and she fell face forwards into a conveniently placed couch. While falling forward, her legs swiped him and he toppled over as well, following her on the couch, but his fall was less graceful. His knees hit the hard floor before they both burst out laughing.

"Sorry, I couldn't help myself."

This only set off Hermione again and in return, he followed suit. However, once their laughter subsided, he realised that the fall left his face near her belly button. He kissed skin there, amazed by the twitch of her muscles under his lips at the goosebumps he had caused. At this point, he was as drunk of her scent as he was from the wine they had enjoyed earlier. Looking up, he found her face hidden behind the most stunning obstruction he could imagine as he stared at her heaving chest.

"I trust you, you can touch them."

Harry woke up with a splitting headache, and yet he felt more rested than he had been in a long time. His blanket felt oddly heavy and, despite only covering half of him, was warmer than he remembered. He had his hand on something strange with a texture he didn't recognise and his left felt numb. There was a familiar scent in his nose, but he struggled to place it.

"Morning Harry."

At that, his eyes snapped open, which made him groan as the sunlight was far too bright.

"Did anyone get the number of that lorry?" Harry asked before he tried to open his eyes again. Blinking rapidly, his gaze focused on something strange not far from his face. It took him far too long to realise that he had been staring at a rosy nipple, attached to a pale breast with his hand on. Slowly his eyes traced the obviously naked body, but given the angle, he could not see much. Instead, he followed the curve of her arm up to a bare shoulder where he saw a ponytail of brown hair -

"Hermione?

"Were you expecting anyone else?"

"No, but I just had the best, strangest dream," Harry trailed off when he connected the dots between what he remembered and the fact that they both were completely starkers and spooning. "That wasn't a dream, was it?"

"What do you think?" she almost purred and reached back. For a moment, his mind tried to reconcile what he knew of his friend with what his senses were telling him, but when her hand found its destination, his thoughts ground to a halt.

"What - what are you doing?"

"What does it look like? What does it feel like?"

"Like one of those dreams where I wake up just as the good bit begins."

"I'm flattered that you would dream of me, but I can promise you that you are awake."

"Merlin Hermione, you look like a vision, like a goddess of debauchery. And best of all, I made you look like this," Harry said as he struggled to make sense of the strange feeling in his chest, and of his memories. There were hickeys all over her skin, and he couldn't even remember making half of them.

"I may have left a few marks on you as well, '' Hermione quipped and gestured at the dried lipstick across his chest and stomach as well as the evidence he could not see on his neck.

"So we are going to be boyfriend and girlfriend?"

"I like you, you are my best friend, but us dating would be a disaster," Hermione said with a laugh. "At least right now. I want to be properly courted, you know. Dinners out in some restaurants, flowers, dates to cinemas and the theatre, you get the picture."

"I can see why this would be a problem right now," Harry admitted. With the Hogsmeade trips cancelled and the secret passages sealed, there was not a lot to do. At least until spring made the outside bearable in a few months. "People will talk though. You know what the rumour mill is like. By dinner, I will have duelled someone for your hand, carried you off to the Chamber of Secrets and slain a dragon for you."

"Oh."

"That was your plan, remember? Make everyone talk about us so that Ron gets his head out of his ass.

"Yes," Hermione replied curtly, making him flinch at her tone. "Don't get me wrong, dating you would be fun while it lasted, yet I fear that the end of the relationship would also be the end of our friendship. If we do this, then properly, give it the best shot we can. Now is not the time for romantic entanglements."

"But?" Harry asked, voicing the word she had left out. He agreed that with Voldemort on the rise, it would be difficult to date properly. At the same time, he had to admit that sleeping with her had felt great far beyond the physical pleasure. Just holding her, waking up spooning her, he had had no idea what he was missing out on until he experienced it.

"I would not mind doing this again."

"Truly?"

"Is that so difficult to believe?"

"No, just - " he trailed off when her hand trailed south once more. "Now?"

"I didn't get any for five months."

"Try sixteen years," Harry grumbled, but not quietly enough.

"It is a poisoned chalice. Trust me on this, you won't last that long again. I was getting more and more desperate to the point where I considered asking Smith to Slughorn's party."

"Smith? Zacharias Smith?"

"My point exactly. It would have annoyed Ron, but Merlin, what was I thinking?"

"Did you plan this?"

"Harry, if I had thought about this earlier, I would have dragged you here the day we got back to the castle," Hermione said and he found himself stuck with mental images of how that would have gone.

"That bad?"

"At the Burrow, I had the room below Bill's. He silenced the walls, but not the floor. Which meant that I had to listen to him and Fleur for an hour each night, making the most vulgar sounds you can imagine. Do you have any idea how often they left me a mess?"

"And Ginny?"

"She sleeps like the dead, she was asleep the moment her head touched the pillow," Hermione said with a hint of envy in her voice.

"Wait, you said five months - does that mean?"

"No, not at the Burrow. Even though I have to admit that I was on the brink of storming into Bill's room, demanding that they make up for all the teasing I had to endure. I would not have cared which of them ravished me, or both."

"So when?" Harry asked after a moment where he envisioned Hermione together with Fleur.

"At the start of the holidays. My parents took me to Vannes and it was - refreshing to be around people who had no preconceptions about me. I wasn't the Gryffindor bookworm, or beaver tooth, or Harry Potter's friend, just the English girl with the clumsy pronunciation. I met Patrice during my second week, he was visiting his aunt who owned the house next to ours, and since that part of Brittany doesn't have nice beaches, I hung out with him instead. We both knew that we wouldn't see each other again, but he was charming and I was curious. It was a fun week exploring - " Hermione paused when she felt him throb against her hand. Suddenly, her eyes were hooded and her gaze heated. "Oh, you like that thought."

"Merlin, it's hot to hear you talk about sex so confidently, like you would discuss our transfiguration homework. You always were so upright and proper; this is a new side of you, yet just like you. And I like it, it's hot," Harry said and realised that he had repeated himself. "And it's not like you are my girlfriend, you are just a friend bragging about a past conquest."

"So does Ron. Do you think that's hot as well?"

"No, with guys it's different. I mean, I hear that talk often enough when Dean and Seamus go on about their exploits, or more recently Ron. I'm pretty sure half of it is exaggerated and the other half outright lies. With girls, well I never hear them talk about sex, at least not like that. Blunt, without giggling, you get the idea. And while you are not as crass as Tonks after she had too much eggnog last new year's eve, it is just as hot when you talk about it."

"I haven't thought about it like this, but you have a point. I can tell you more, but I want your word that you will tell absolutely no one."

"Not one word," Harry promised, pretending to zip his mouth shut. Hermione wiggled in his arm and, quicker than his brain could process that shortly after waking up, pressed herself back against him. Given that he was the big spoon, this led to a new, stunning sensation as she continued her little movements.

"I think I should preface that I never intended for things to get that far with Patrice. I noticed that he kept checking me out and he was cute, think Neville, but without the baby fat and with sandy hair. Not a maiden's fantasy, but cute with a roguish smile. We talked a few times, so I was thinking that maybe we could go out for the evening, see a movie, you get the idea. And that's when I discovered that making out in beachwear was a dangerous activity."

"Dangerous?" Harry echoed as Hermione pressed herself against him more firmly. Any further words were cut off by the moan that escaped his lips when she found a better angle that kept him trapped in between her buttocks.

"Oh yes. You see, with normal clothes, you have a few layers in between you, but a beach wrap above a bikini means that every touch will be on your bare skin. Taking off two pieces leaves you naked. And if you are a curious girl who has been hearing and reading all sorts of things and want to live a little after that fight to the death you were in a few weeks back - Let's just say that I almost jumped him while we were still on the veranda. His hands felt nice on my skin, so I wanted to feel them everywhere. And then," Hermione trailed off as she turned around and ran her hands down his stomach and to his hip bones before she turned around and scooted lower. "Well, why don't I show you?"

AN:

Beta'ed by Life Equals 42.

I got the idea for this while reading Lavender Moon, an AU fic where Harry and Hermione, distant acquaintances at best, go to Slughorn's party together as part of a fake date/jealousy plot and end up sleeping together. They agree to be friends with benefits, but before there's a repeat the main pairing (Harry/Lavender) gets going. So it got me thinking about how to get that kind of dynamic without the massive AU, and here we are.

Also, Hermione's dislike of Fleur in HBP always confused me, even after finding out that it's supposed to be jealousy. So instead, here it is "she keeps me awake each night while I'm getting none".