CHAPTER EIGHT: THE TALK

Hermione and Buffy both felt incredibly free for the first time since starting their advanced lessons within Hogwarts.  Being away from the school and back with their friends was balm to their already exhausted souls, and they couldn't have been happier.  With both of them in the arms of their respective boyfriends, they were completely and utterly content.

Of course, Hermione's contentment didn't last as long, considering she had her three best friends nagging her on the same topic: trying out for the Gryffindor Quidditch Team.  She had never been an accomplished flier, and she was fairly certain she never would be.  But Ron, Harry and Buffy were all very adamant about the brown-haired girl at least trying out for one of the vacant positions. 

"C'mon 'Mione," Harry pleaded for what seemed to be the fiftieth time in under an hour.  "You have to at least try to get on the team."

"Or at least get on the broom," Ron added.

Hermione was close to giving in.  Not about trying out for Quidditch, but for at least getting on the broom.  Even in first year, during Flying Lessons, she'd never been a very accomplished flier.  She'd passed the class of course, but she'd never really caught onto the finer techniques of handling the broomstick.  And considering the Flying Lessons were only for the first term of the First Year, she'd never really been on a broom after that. 

Ron could see his girlfriend's hesitation.  He sighed and moved to stand behind her, placing his hands on her curvy hips.

"Please Hermione?" he whispered softly, his voice a gentle caress across the back of her neck, sending delicious shivers up and down her spine.

Buffy and Harry just grinned at each other, amused by Ron's tactics of trying to get Hermione up in the air. 

Hermione sighed happily and melted back into Ron's embrace.  She nodded and allowed Ron to help her onto a broomstick, correcting the position of her hands. 

Buffy turned her attention back to Harry, more interested in what Harry could teach her about flying than what Ron and Hermione were doing.

"So…what's the what here?" Buffy asked.

Harry grinned.  He'd forgotten how much he loved hearing Buffy's strange way of phrasing things.  He stepped in front of her, their faces only inches apart, the both of them losing their breaths as they got caught up in their staring match.  Slowly, Harry brought his lips down to meet Buffy's, the Firebolt lying on the ground beside them, completely forgotten.  Several moments later, they were startled out of their moment by the loud and unsubtle coughing of Ron, who was just grinning at his two friends.

"You're meant to be teaching the girl to fly, mate, not teaching her what the inside of your mouth is like," Ron said.

"Ew," Buffy complained, glaring at the redheaded boy.  "Gross much?"

Harry, his cheeks slightly flushed and his chest rising erratically as he fought to catch his breath, chose not to say anything.  Instead, he stood behind Buffy, mimicking Ron's earlier position behind Hermione.

"Alright, you already proved you can get the broom to come up to you," Harry said, thinking back to earlier, before Hermione had agreed to join in on their flying lesson.  "So…what you have to do now is mount your broom.  Make sure you've got a nice firm grip on the handle.  Knees together…you don't want to be sliding off it."

Buffy couldn't help it.  She knew that Harry was talking about the broom, and flying, but with Harry's hands around her waist, and her heart still fluttering wildly in her chest, she couldn't help but hear the double entendre of his words.  The giggle burst from her mouth, leaving Harry wildly confused.

Ron and Hermione looked over to them, Hermione joining in Buffy's laughter, while Ron and Harry looked at their girlfriends as though they'd gone completely and utterly insane.

"What's so funny?" Harry demanded.

"You!" Hermione choked out.

"You were talking about flying, right?" Buffy managed to get out in between giggles and snorts of laughter.

Harry stared at her in confusion.  He thought back to what he'd been instructing Buffy to do, trying to see the funny side of it.  Realisation finally caught up and he went a bright shade of red, instantly dropping his hands from Buffy's waist.  He took a step back.  Ron seemed to catch on as well, guffawing loudly at the sight of Harry's utter horror.

Except, it wasn't horror that Harry was feeling.  Ever since before the final Gryffindor vs. Slytherin match, and their impromptu make-out session in Harry's room (per Seamus's request for them to 'get a room') Harry had been thinking about Buffy non-stop.  He'd never really felt like this towards anyone before. His brief infatuation with Cho had been more innocent.  He'd never entertained the thoughts about Cho that he had been having about Buffy.  And the thoughts that he was thinking was enough to leave him gasping for breath, and in need of a cold shower. 

"I…it wasn't…I wasn't coming onto you," Harry stuttered.

Buffy pouted and gave him playful puppy-dog eyes.  "Why not?"

Ron cackled with laughter.  If it was possible, Harry turned an even brighter shade of red.  He mumbled something under his breath about teasing wenches and ran a hand over his hot face.  He couldn't take it anymore, and he quickly turned and made his way back to the Burrow.

Buffy, Ron and Hermione all looked at each other in shock, their laughter and mirth completely gone.  Buffy took off after her boyfriend without a word to her two other friends, who wisely did not follow.

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"Harry!  Wait!"

Harry didn't really know what had happened.  He couldn't really explain why he'd had the urge to take off, but he had known that he couldn't stand to be there any longer.  But, fortunately (or unfortunately, he couldn't tell which) Buffy was somewhat faster than himself.  She managed to catch up with him in no time, snagging his arm to keep him from walking away from her.

"Harry, please," she said, her voice quiet and upset.  "I didn't mean to…I wasn't trying to…I mean, I know that it's probably too soon, and…I mean, you're only sixteen so, I get why you wouldn't want…but I was just-"

He cut off her rambling with a deep and passionate kiss, effectively shutting her up.  She felt herself relax and sink into him, thankful that he hadn't let her completely embarrass herself.  He reluctantly pulled back and bent down to lean his forehead against hers.

"It wasn't you," he whispered.  "I wasn't…I mean I'm not offended or anything."

Buffy breathed a sigh of relief.  She was just grateful that she hadn't managed to completely drive him away from her.

"What's wrong then?" she asked gently.

He breathed in deeply, not really sure on how to answer the question.

"It's just…god, Buffy, I just want you so badly," he admitted. 

Whatever Buffy had been expecting, it really hadn't been that. 

"You're all I bloody think about.  I dream about you at night, you're always on my mind, and then when we joke about it, and you flirt with me…I never know whether to take it seriously or not," he admitted.

Buffy swallowed hard.  She'd never really had to have any discussions about sex with Angel.  They're one and only time together hadn't been thought out or rationalised.  Of course, she couldn't forget how badly that had ended.  But she knew that if things between herself and Harry were going to continue, they would need to talk about it.

"Well, uh…would you…I mean, do you want to?" she asked quietly.

Harry sighed and ran a hand through his hair.  He nodded quietly and forced himself to look at his girlfriend as he answered.

"I want to."

It was the answer that she'd been expecting and still it took her breath away.  The thought of the two of them sleeping together made something inside of her tremble, a delicious warmth settling inside her blood, travelling through her veins and thrilling every part of her.

"Wow," she whispered.

He couldn't help but smile.  "Wow indeed.  Uh…would you?  Want to?  With me?"

"Yeah," she replied breathlessly.

A grin broke out on Harry's face and he pulled Buffy flush against his chest, burying his face in her hair, breathing in the scent that was definitely Buffy's.  He could feel his heart racing in his chest, and could feel the matching heartbeat from Buffy.  They both knew that nothing could really happen between them at the Burrow.  Aside from their being absolutely no privacy in the hectic Weasley household, it was severely lacking in romance.

"God, I'm gonna sound like such a prat," Harry began, his voice shaking, his cheeks flaming bright red, "but…when?  Where?"

Buffy couldn't help but giggle.  "I was just wondering that too."

Harry breathed out a sigh of relief.  He was just grateful that Buffy didn't think he was some sex-crazed maniac who only wanted her for her body.

"I guess we'll just have to work out the details later," Buffy answered.  "I mean…we don't want to rush into anything."

"Right…rushing would be bad," Harry agreed.

"Not that I don't want to rush," Buffy qualified.  "But…we can't just…cos that would be bad."

Harry nodded and clung even more tightly to Buffy.  He breathed out deeply, relaxing his body.  He pressed a gentle kiss to Buffy's forehead, and just contented himself in the absolutely safe feeling he felt whenever he was with his girlfriend.

"Buffy?"

"Yeah?"

He paused and swallowed hard.  He'd been wanting to say this to Buffy since Christmas Eve, but he'd never had the guts to do so.

"I love you."

Buffy pulled slightly back and looked him in the eyes.  She could read the love and nervousness looking out of Harry's emerald green eyes, and she smiled softly at him.  She pressed a gentle kiss to his lips and rested her forehead against his, loving the intense waves of giddiness that ran rampantly throughout her stomach.

"I love you too."

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Awww…mush.  I'm getting sappy in my old age. ;)  Should cheer you up after LISETTE's fricken update.  That girl is just EVIL!  ;)  Anyways…mega thanks for all reviews and stuff.

Toodles.

K.