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Title:                 Scene Four – The Aftermath

Author:             Elise

Author's Notes: Sorry for the extra short blurb, but I just wanted to post it before I started to rewrite it for the billionth time.

 Constructive criticism is desperately needed, a plot would help too but I don't want to get greedy.  Had no idea that this was the plot bunny that wouldn't die.  As always all disclaimers apply, and all dedications from previous chapters are doubled on this one.

All of a sudden, the world felt like it had spun off of its axis. Time had stopped.  Her skin felt…electrified.  His kiss was so like him – gentle, a little shy, but with something deeper just below the surface.  Hermione felt her own arms slip around him, without a conscious thought, pulling him closer to her.

Suddenly, Harry grasped her shoulders and pushed her away.  "You kissed me," he gasped.

"B-but… you kissed me first"

"I meant …", he began.

"You talk too much", Hermione smiled, kissing Harry again.

When their lips finally parted again, Harry pulled her close to him and whispered into her hair, "What the hell am I doing?"

"Harry?" Hermione questioned after a moment.

"I'm scared 'Mione. I can't lose you – not now. Not after all of this"

"Why do you think that you are going to lose me?" exclaimed Hermione, sitting upright.

"I just… I don't want to… I'll mess things up," Harry bent over with his elbows on his knees, "It always happens".

"What are you saying, Harry?"

"I don't know," he said, starting to laugh.

Without another word, Harry reached over and took Hermione's hand in his.  Just held it, like it was the only reality in the world.  She could feel his hand start trembling.  Hermione slid closer to him and rested her head on his shoulder.  Here comes another one, she thought.

Right on cue, Harry's breathing became ragged while every muscle seemed to tense automatically.  The grip on her hand eased; his way of trying to keep you from knowing how bad he was hurting.  Mercifully, the episode was a short one and passed quickly.  Color crept back in his face as his breathing evened out and steadied.

When he seemed recovered a bit, Hermione stood and took his hands in her own. "Come on – you need to get into bed".

"Ms. Granger, you are trying to seduce me," Harry joked weakly.

"Yeah, right. All part of my grand design. Uh huh. Keep dreaming, Potter," countered Hermione while she blushed furiously.

As they slowly made their way to the back bedroom, Hermione noticed how much, yet how little the years had changed Harry.  Faint traces of gray hair showing at his temples and a few winkles around his eyes showed how he had aged. Yet, he still retained the messy hair and mischievous grin that she remembered from those early Hogwarts days. Harry sat heavily down on the bed, kicked off his shoes, and fell back onto the pillows.

Hermione rummaged about in the cedar chest at the foot of the bed, searching for a quilt.  Finding one, she spread it over Harry's prone form and turned to leave the room.

"Don't go."

"What, Harry?" she questioned.

"Would you mind…. staying here?" Harry asked, raising his head to look at her. "Just for a while?"

Smiling softly, Hermione slipped out of her shoes and under the quilt.  Wordlessly, Harry pulled her close and buried his face in her hair.

"You are shaking", she told him.

"Your feet are cold."

"You ok?" worry was evident in her voice.

"I feel like I could be," Harry said with a small yawn.

Hermione made herself hold back the tears that threatened to roll down her cheeks from his last statement.  Consciously making her muscles relax, she listened to Harry's breathing become deeper and even.  Soon after, her breathing matched his own.

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