It was a warm day for September in London and the amusement park was filled with Muggle families and couples enjoying the mild weather. Harry stood watching as Hermione purchased some cotton candy from a vendor with a brightly colored cart. Absentmindedly, he rubbed his palm against his thigh.
When Hermione had grabbed his hand in the train station, he thought his heart would leap out of his chest. Bit silly, really. It's not like he'd never touched her hand before, for heaven's sake. She'd often grabbed his hand when she wanted to drag him off to see some moldering scrap of parchment in the library detailing the Ghost Rebellion of 1341 or some such nonsense. It was no big deal. Except that today it was.
Harry wasn't sure why. But ever since they'd missed the train, he had had the feeling that unexpected things were going to happen today. He felt like his body was some sort of giant antenna, tuned excruciatingly to every nuance of Hermione Granger. When he'd put his hands around her waist to lift her up so she could whisper into the locker vent, it had taken every ounce of control he had to turn her loose again. It felt so . . . right. He'd wanted to pull her closer and bend his head to hers and . . .
Hermione was running towards him with her cotton candy, her face lit up with that amazing smile. He felt the breath leave his body. God, she was beautiful. Dimly, from somewhere in the recesses of his brain, he was aware that he was not supposed to be taking notice of things like that. He was not supposed to be feeling this way. Damned if he knew why though. He'd been fighting his feelings for Hermione for so long it had almost become instinct, but right at this moment, he couldn't think of a single reason why he should.
Then she was in front of him, her hair mussed by the wind, her soft, brown eyes twinkling up at him, and a wisp of cotton candy clinging to her cheek. Unthinking, he reached out to brush it away. It was like touching lightning. He felt her go absolutely still as something electric leapt between them. Harry was certain that every hair on his body was standing on end. He knew it was mad, but he was tired of fighting what had become to him a pointless battle.
"Hermione?" He wasn't sure what he was asking. Everything, he supposed. He was afraid to breathe.
"Harry." It was a statement. An answer. An invitation.
The dark, tousled head bent to hers. He put his arms around her, pulling her against him, and touched his lips to hers. Oh, yes. His heart was hammering so loudly he was sure she must be able to hear it. He'd thought he knew something about spells and enchantments, but this was magic unlike any he had ever known.
There was still some part of Harry that warned him to stop now, before things went any further. He told it to bugger off. He started to pull back a little, just to get some air, get his bearings, but the tip of her tongue came out to touch his lips. Desire slammed into him with the force of a bludger. What little control he had snapped and he surrendered to the urge to deepen the kiss. Lips, tongues, teeth – nothing else in the world existed except for this heaven.
He ran a hand up her back, pressing her closer, and heard her breath hitch. He was gloriously aware of every inch of her that was straining against him. Hermione must surely be aware of his body's reaction to her. He was too far gone to care. There was just enough blood remaining in his head for him to realize that if they didn't stop now they would soon be violating quite a few Muggle laws involving public decency.
Reluctantly, Harry pulled his lips from hers, still holding Hermione to him. Hermione laid her head against his chest as he kissed the top of her hair. After a few minutes, when his body had returned to a more presentable state, he held her slightly away and tipped her head up so he could see her face.
His green eyes searched hers questioningly. To his intense relief, she smiled that thousand watt smile, the one that made him feel ten feet tall whenever she directed it at him. She reached up and touched the side of his cheek, her smile turning a bit smug as she felt the tremor that ran through his body at this smallest of caresses. "It's all right, Harry. It's more than all right, actually." She reached up on tiptoe to press a kiss to his collar bone. "I've been waiting ages for you to do that. But then you've always been a bit slow, haven't you?" She grinned at him impishly, and then without warning, spun on her heel and took off running towards the Ferris wheel, still clutching the cotton candy in her hands. The sound of her laughter drifted back to him.
Harry stood there for a moment, stunned. Then, grinning like an idiot, he took off after her. He was positive he'd beat her. His legs were much longer than hers.