Harry couldn't remember ever having a better summer than this.  Hermione's parents were very kind to him, and he enjoyed every minute he spent at their home.  He and Hermione actually spent a lot of time alone together because Mr. and Mrs. Granger had to work during the day.  They owned their own dental office, and summer was a busy time for them.  The two teenagers didn't mind at all.

"Honey, I'm home!" Hermione giggled as she entered the front door.  In her hands was a grocery bag.  Harry had sent her out to get a few things, but he wouldn't tell her why.

"In here, sweetheart!" a voice called from the kitchen.

'Uh oh, if he's messed up the kitchen, mom's gonna kill him.'

"Harry, you better not have made a mess, or my mom's gonna go nuts!" she gasped as she walked in.

Her jaw dropped at the site in front of her.  There was Harry Potter – probably the most powerful wizard in the world – wearing an apron and buzzing around the kitchen.  His t-shirt had red splotches, and his dark pants had flour handprints on them.

"Did you find everything?" he asked hopefully.

"What are you doing?" She sniffed the air, "And what smells so good?"

"Oh no, that's a surprise, but you can help me with something else."

"And what is that?"

"Bring the bag over, and I'll show you."

Hermione handed him the paper sack, and Harry drew out the ingredients he'd asked her to get.  He set them on the counter and wiped his sticky hands on the apron he was wearing.

"What are you smiling at?" he quipped, noting the cheesy grin on her face.

"Nothing, I've just never seen you in an apron."

"Oh yeah, well just for that, you're not gonna find out what I'm doing.  Now, out!"

"Come on, just a little peak," she teased and slithered towards the oven, but Harry cut her off seeing the sly smile on her lips.

"I said no!" he said forcibly and pointed to the door.

"Hmmph, fine, you can do all the work yourself," she fumed and marched into the living room.  Harry just grinned and went back to work.

Three hours, Mr. and Mrs. Granger came home.  Upon entering the house, they immediately noticed a delicious aroma in the air.

"Wow, something smells good in here," Mr. Granger stated, and his stomach growled in agreement.

"Hermione?"

"In here, mom," she called and popped out of the living room.

"Sweetie, what's going here?  What smells so wonderful?"

"Oh, it's Harry, he's been in the kitchen for the last several hours cooking, but the jerk won't tell me what he's making!"

"Harry's cooking," both adults gasped.

"Yup, he even had me go out shopping for him earlier, and since then, he's barricaded himself in there."

"Hmm, I better check on him then," Mrs. Granger advised.

Harry opened the oven to check on the dinner he'd made when Melinda Granger's head popped into the kitchen.

"Oh hello Mrs. Granger," he said with a smile.

Melinda looked around to see various bowls strewn around the countertop, but her kitchen was still in one piece.

"Hello Harry, what's going on in here?"

"Hermione told me that you and Mr. Granger were working late this week so I decided to cook dinner for everyone; I hope you don't mind?"

Melinda wanted to kiss the boy.  She was exhausted from her day at work and didn't even want to think about dinner, and here, her prayers were answered by this young man who she hadn't even known more than a month.

"Not a all, Harry, it smells heavenly in here.  What exactly is it?" He just smiled at her.

"That's a surprise.  If you'd like to go into the dining room, it'll be ready in five minutes."

"I look forward to it."

"Well?" Hermione asked when her mother returned from the kitchen.

"He said to sit in the dining room; dinner will ready in five minutes," Mrs. Granger answered with a wide smile on her face.

"Did he at least say what he made?" her daughter asked rather annoyed.

"No, but I'm sure it'll be good."

"At least he could tell me," Hermione pouted.

"Sweetie, don't complain, it's very rare that you find a man who knows his way around a kitchen," her mother laughed.

"Well then," John Granger interrupted, "I suggest we take Harry's advice and sit down at the table."

Harry poked his head out of the kitchen to see the Grangers seated at the dining room table.  Smiling widely, he walked in carrying a large platter covered in tin foil.  He set in down in the center of the table and shook his hands rapidly.

"Please be careful, that plate's a little warm!"

"What's underneath?" Hermione piped up, glaring at him slightly.  Harry only smiled at her.

"Go ahead and look, Herm, I'll bring the rest out."

Her mind dripping with curiosity, and her stomach growling with hunger, Hermione nearly shredded the tin foil.  On the platter was a gorgeously roasted chicken.

"My goodness, that looks wonderful," Mrs. Granger commented.

"Thank you," Harry called as he came back in.

He placed a bowl of rice next to Hermione, a bowl of garlic potatoes next to Mr. Granger, and a plate of fresh strawberries next to Mrs. Granger.

"My word, Harry, you didn't have to do all this."

"It's not a problem, ma'am, I don't mind cooking."

"Jeez Harry, now I understand why you wanted oregano and strawberries," Hermione laughed.

"Yeah, I couldn't find any on the shelves."

"Well then, let's dig in…shall we?" Mr. Granger suggested.

"Oh my gosh!" Melinda gasped, "Harry, what's in this?  It's incredible!"

"At the risk of insulting my own wife, Harry, this is the best roast chicken that I've ever had!" Mr. Granger sighed.

"I'm glad you like it," he answered and flushed slightly.  Hermione squeezed his hand.

"So…you've still got a few tricks up your sleeve, eh?"

"Maybe…go ahead and enjoy it, but please leave room for dessert."

"Dessert?" they all asked him at the same time.

"Yes, in fact, it should be done by now.  Excuse me."

Harry stood up out of his chair and headed back into the kitchen.

"Hey sweetie, I'd hang onto that boy if I were you," Mrs. Granger laughed. "He does things without even being asked.  That's a quality that many women want in the man they love."

"Mom, would you cut it out!" Hermione gasped and blushed.

"Did I miss anything?" Harry asked as he came back in wearing oven mittens and carrying a steaming pie tin.

"What'd you make?" his girlfriend inquired.

"Nothing much, it's just plain, old apple pie."

"My goodness, Harry, you're spoiling us all," Mr. Granger laughed.

"Well, I figured that I might as well do something useful while I'm here."

After dinner was over, Harry returned to the kitchen to clean the dishes, and Hermione followed him with a pile of plates in her hands.

"Are you still mad at me?" he asked while scrubbing the utensils.

"Yeah, a little, but that food was great so I guess I can forgive you."

Harry turned towards her and saw the warm smile on her face.  Pulling his hands out of the soapy water, he wrapped his arms around her – suds and all.

"Harry, what are you hmmph…" Hermione tried to object, but his mouth shut her up.

"You'll get soap in my hair!" she finally said out of breath.  He merely grinned at her and kissed her again.

"That's okay…" he said against her lips, "…we'll wash it off in the shower later."

"Why you?  What makes you think that's going to happen?" she said rather irritated but still unable to break their kiss.  Harry pulled her against his body and nuzzled her neck.

"Because I haven't given you my special dessert yet, sweetheart." Her eyes lit up at the low, seductive tone in his voice.

"Hmm, and just what does this 'dessert' entail?" Hermione cooed softly.

"Ahem!" The two jumped apart as Mrs. Granger entered the kitchen.

"Well…I see you two were busy in here," she said with a wide grin. 

Both teenagers blushed deeply knowing that they'd been caught and quickly went back to cleaning the dishes.  Harry washed, and Hermione dried.  Once they were all finished, he brushed up against her and leaned down next to her ear.

"Later tonight, my Hermione," he whispered.  Her eyes turned in his direction, but she didn't move her head.

"I'll be waiting, my love."

Harry drew back from her before Mrs. Granger noticed him and started putting the plates back into the cabinets.

Late that night, Harry lay in his room listening for any movement in the house.  Mr. and Mrs. Granger had gone to bed about an hour before, and he was just biding his time.  Hedwig chirped from inside her cage, and Harry climbed out of bed.

"Hey girl, you want to go out?" The snowy owl bobbed its head.

"Okay…" he opened the cage, and she perched onto his arm, "…off you go." Hedwig flew out his window into the quiet night, searching for a midnight snack.

'It's about time,' he thought to himself.

Harry decided it would be smarter if he didn't walk down to Hermione's room; he didn't want to wake up her parents.  So, getting a picture of her room in his mind, he disapparated.

Hermione rubbed her hands together anxiously; her whole body was tingling with nervousness.  The thought of having Harry here…in her 'real' bed made her blood begin to boil.  She picked up a candle from her nightstand and walked over to her dresser.  She checked her appearance in the mirror to make sure that her hair hadn't been ruffled from lying on her bed.  Hermione looked down at her attire.  She'd been a little apprehensive about wearing a nightgown in front of Harry, but her heart told her to trust him.  It wasn't provocative – merely simple sleepwear.  The material was thin but not transparent, and it ran all the way down her legs.  A small pop made her turn her head, and she saw Harry apparate into her bedroom.

'Bloody hell!' his mind screamed when he beheld the sight in front of him.

"Sweetheart…is that…is that really you?" he gulped with his jaw on the floor.

"Like it?" Hermione asked as she pirouetted in front of him.

"Hermione…I…I…come here, please."

She smiled at the pleading tone in his voice and went straight into his arms.  He was only wearing a t-shirt and shorts, and she licked her lips.  That just made less to take off.

The two lovers were a complete wreck.  Hermione's nightgown was plastered to her sweat-drenched skin, and her hair was a tangled mess on the pillows.  Her eyes were closed, and she was puffing out breathes a mile a minute.  Harry brushed her wet hair out of her face and rolled her onto her back.

"You're amazing, sweetheart," he sighed while stroking her cheek.

"No, you are, my love.  Gosh, how long was that…three…four hours?"

"Around that I guess, but I'm not sure.  I get distracted when I'm around you," he teased and kissed her swollen lips.

Hermione shivered, and she realized how cold she felt.  Her wet nightgown felt like ice against her hot skin.

"Here, let's warm you up," Harry advised.

Pulling off the soaked material, Hermione dropped it to the ground and rolled back into his arms.  He pressed her up against his body, and she purred happily, feeling his warmth.

"Hmm, I love being with you like this," she sighed happily and buried her face in his throat.  He kissed her forehead and grabbed hold of her comforter.

"Let's rest now, sweetheart," he sighed and wrapped the blanket around them.

"All right, but don't be surprised if I wake you up in a few hours," she teased and looked up at him with a big smile on her face.  Harry bent down and kissed her goodnight.

"Anything you want, Hermione, you know I can't say 'no' to you."

"Pleasant dreams, Harry." He tightened his hold on her and settled her on his chest to sleep.

"I don't need to dream anymore.  My dream's already come true," and he tucked the blanket around her small body.  Hermione smiled against his chest and placed her hand on top of his heart.

"So has mine, my darling, so has mine," and she closed her eyes, feeling him stroking his fingers through her hair.

Harry watched her for a few minutes, feeling his body ready to slip into a deep sleep.

'I have but one dream left, Hermione Granger, and that is to make you, Hermione Potter.'