It was the happiest day Harry could remember in all of his seventeen years, which was saying a lot considering some of the incredible experiences he had had since learning that he was a wizard. But he wasn't sure if he would survive another minute of it.
The afternoon at the amusement park had been a rollercoaster ride in more ways than one. He wasn't sure there were words in the English language to describe all the feelings that had gone through him since 11:01 this morning. At present, Harry was sitting in a small Italian café with his best friend, Hermione Granger, who also happened to be the most beautiful girl he knew. She was chatting earnestly away in her usual mile-a-minute delivery, but she might as well have been speaking Gobbledygook as far as he was concerned. All he could do was look at her. He reached out and brushed away a lock of hair which had fallen forward, continually amazed that she not only accepted his touch, but welcomed it. She stopped recounting her experience working in a Muggle department store over the summer ("Mum and Dad want me to learn about both cultures, and I think it's a good idea.") long enough to send him an affectionate smile and press his hand to her cheek. She turned his hand over, dropping a kiss on his palm before letting go.
Harry shifted in his seat, wishing for the umpteenth time that he were wearing wizard robes instead the usual Muggle attire of jeans and a sweater. He had been walking around in a near-constant state of arousal ever since that first mind-blowing kiss at the amusement park. And speaking of kisses, when he saw Crookshanks again he was going to give him one right on his furry little lips. If that silly cat hadn't made them miss the train he and Hermione would not now be sitting here. The last few hours had changed his life.
He couldn't believe what a relief it was now that he had finally revealed to Hermione the secret he'd been carrying around, probably ever since that day she burst into his and Ron's train compartment that very first day on the Hogwarts Express, he admitted to himself. Looking at her now, he couldn't understand how he had managed to keep his hands off her for so long.
She was sitting with her spectacular legs crossed, causing the skirt she was wearing to inch up ever so slightly. The sweater she wore might have been unremarkable on any other girl, but the way the soft material clung to her breasts was nearly criminal. The hair she was constantly trying to tame (and he really wished she wouldn't), stood out around her head like a halo in the late afternoon sunlight. Her eyes, which made him think of cinnamon and rich, dark chocolate, regarded him with amusement. He was caught.
He grinned and shrugged sheepishly. "What do you want from me, woman? I'm only human, after all. If you insist on being this beautiful you're going to have to accept that from time to time I will be incapable of focusing on the conversation at hand."
Hermione arched a brow.
"You managed just fine up until now."
"Nope. Merely a clever façade. We powerful wizards are very skilled at subterfuge, you know."
"Oh, Harry." She laughed. "What am I going to do with you?"
"I have a few suggestions."
Hermione returned his grin and decided she would just have to get used to her knees going weak every time he looked at her like that. It had been this way all day. Conversation and laughter broken by moments of intense sexual awareness. They still talked in the comfortable, bantering shorthand they'd developed over years of friendship, but now something hot and electric simmered between them. She twirled another forkful of pasta and raised it to her lips, catching a bit of the sauce with her tongue.
"You're going to kill me," Harry groaned.
"Harry Potter," she peered at him primly over the napkin she used to dab at her mouth. "Are you telling me that we can't even eat a bit of spaghetti together without you being overcome by your baser urges?"
"God, yes. And stop looking all prissy like that. Makes me want to shag you up against the wall right here and now."
Hermione looked shocked. Harry cursed himself inwardly. Note to self: check with brain before allowing mouth to proceed. Now he'd gone and offended her with his crudeness.
"Is that so?" Hermione's lips were slightly parted and her voice was just the smallest bit breathless. "We'll have to discuss that later."
Harry felt the last bit of blood remaining in his head drain away and settle somewhere in the vicinity of his lap. He was definitely not going to survive. He was in fact going to spontaneously combust. Discuss it later indeed. To regain some semblance of decorum, he pictured Dudley naked, doing jumping jacks. It worked. Eventually, he was able to speak again.
Hermione was watching him, smiling. He took her hand. "Seriously, 'Mione. I didn't mean for it to come out quite that way, but there it is. With anyone else, I'd say things were going too fast, but with you it's like . . ." He didn't know how to put it. All he knew was that there was no one else in the world he could be this comfortable with after the day of revelations and tears and giddy laughter they had just had. He should be feeling drained and awkward, at the very least, but somehow he wasn't.
"I know what you mean. It's like shorthand, isn't it?"
"Yeah. I know you better than anyone, give or take Ron. And you know me like, well . . . no one else, really. I can talk to you about anything, even things I wouldn't tell Ron. It's such a gift having you as a friend. Being able to just be me instead of always Harry Potter, The Boy Who Lived." He made a wry face. "I want you to know that – how much that means to me. It's not just that I crave your body – although I most assuredly do." His green eyes twinkled at her from behind the round glasses. "I know that behind that delicious exterior lies one of the most extraordinary minds in the Wizarding world. Muggle, too, for that matter."
"Harry." Hermione was blushing and fiddling with her placemat.
He put his fingers beneath her chin and made her look at him. "I mean it. Get used to it, Hermione. You'll be hearing things like this from me fairly often. I've been holding them in for too long."
The sun was going down. They sat in silence while a waiter came by to light the candle that stood in a glass dish in the middle of their table. The little flame flickered for a moment in the breeze and then held steady. It threw a soft glow over the table and reflected in Hermione's eyes. Harry saw that the brightness in them was not entirely due to the candle.
"I owe you an apology, love." He brushed away the single tear that slid down her face with the backs of his fingers. "I'm sorry for being such a coward. I told myself I was being noble and sensible by not jeopardizing our friendship. I should have trusted you, us, enough to tell you what was in my heart."
"And what exactly is that?" Hermione asked unevenly. She had gone quite still at the word "love."
"I think you know me well enough that you can look into my eyes and tell. You know me, 'Mione. You always have." There was almost a plea in his voice. "Look at me."
Hermione did look, and what she saw in those familiar green eyes took her breath away. She swallowed and drew a shaky breath. "I . . . I . . . think I'd like to hear the words. Please."
"I love you, Hermione Granger. I think I always have."
Hermione closed her eyes and let it wash over her. He loved her. He loved her. Her mind kept repeating the words over and over again.
"Er hrm." Harry cleared his throat. "Um, can I ask if you . . . I mean, that is to say, if you might . . ."
Hermione launched herself from her seat and into his lap. Twining her arms around his neck, she looked directly into his eyes. "I love you, Harry Potter. I know I always have." She felt his arms tighten around her, and then his lips were on hers and she could think of nothing else.
The sound of another throat being tactfully cleared caused them to break apart. The waiter, an apologetic smile on his face, stood there with the tab. "Looks like you two won't be needing any dessert," he said with a wink.
With what he knew to be a foolish grin plastered all over his face, Harry accepted the check. "Hermione Granger loves me," he told the waiter.
"You're a lucky man, mate."
"I know." He placed a few bills on the table, still grinning. "I know."
~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*
(Author's Note: Stay tuned for the arrival of the Knight Bus and for another revelation from Harry. And yes, they will in fact have sex. Promise. J babygrrl )