A/N: Hello there! Thank you again for the reviews, trust me I AM reading them. I should probably warn you that this story will be pretty long (make that very, lol) and there will be lots of angst. But I believe that the build-up of anticipation will make the event that much more enjoyable. . . .or you'll all get very impatient and hate me. Lol. OH and someone mentioned that Harry SHOULD know how to cook. I guess that slippied my mind. . .but a lot of the humor involves Harry not being able to cook. Therefore I guess this story will be AU, in which Harry does not know how to cook. Sorry, hope that doesn't bother too many of you. . .anyway, enjoy the next chapter!

I don't know what to say so I just stare at her.

She sighs and tries to move past me, to the stairs.

"I want you," I say quietly.

"No, you don't" she insists.

"Why do you think that?"

"Taryn. Melissa, Holly, Parvati, that waitress, heck even Lavender. Reporters. Fans. And I know I'm missing some because I don't know what the hell you really did in America."

"Hermione."

"What?"

"You forgot the most important one."

She sighs, "I don't want to be another notch on your bedpost, Harry."

"Wow, you really think so highly of me?"

She rolls her eyes and I immediately grow serious.

"Do you know what I thought about all day during my session, Hermione?"

"Me. You already mentioned that."

"Yeah, you."

"Yet it all seems to have flown out the window the minute Taryn showed you any attention."

"I was trying not to think about you!"

"Umm, thanks?"

I sigh exasperatedly. "We're friends, Hermione. You said so yourself. Do you think that this has been easy for me?"

"Oh, well, in that case…"

"I thought about you, Hermione. I thought about how funny you are and how you always call me on my bullshit. I thought about how you always pay attention to what I'm talking about even if it's just insane rambling. I thought about how you know when I need to talk and when I need to be quiet."

"That's what friends do," she answers, trying to move away from me.

"Do friends think about how soft your skin is? Do they think about your legs? Your mouth? Do they think about…"

"Stop."

"Your eyes, how beautiful they are?"

"Stop it, Harry."

"Your mouth…"

"You already said that."

I move forward and brush a strand of hair away from her mouth. She blinks and shakes her head.

"Harry…"

"I want you."

"I don't want you."

I drop my hands to my side and suck in a breath.

She looks like she's going to say something else but instead she takes the opportunity to move past me and leaves me standing there.

"Then why can't you look at me?" I ask and all I get in response is silence.

. . . .




Hermione spends the remainder of the evening in her room and when I finally head upstairs, I see that there is still some light streaming from beneath her door.

What the hell, I've already managed to destroy this evening. Why not beat a dead horse?

I knock and it takes some time before she answers.

"It's late, Harry."

"I need to tell you something."

"What?"

"Can you open the door, please?"

She opens it slightly and nods at me. "Go on."

"I thought about you today too."

"Lucky me."

"Did you think about me?"

She sighs.

I press on. "Today. Yesterday. When you were writing that damned list."

She doesn't answer.

I push the door open with my foot.

"Now?"

"What?"

"Were you thinking about me now?"

She lifts her chin stubbornly and I cup her face in my hands so that she can't look away.

And then I kiss her.

*




The moment I lifted my face and looked up at him, I knew how this conversation would end. He had that look in his eye, the slightly glazed look with just a hint of excitement and a hint of fear and when he blinked in slow motion, I knew.

People say that before you die, you see your whole life flash before your eyes. I saw every one of our previous pseudo-kisses, the ones that got reporters talking and speculating. The ones we had just for playing around, because their reaction was funny. It was funny. Fun. Meaningless. I had experienced first hand his technique, and I expected it to be like it was then.

Except it was nothing like that.

He must have licked his lips and I didn't notice because they're warm and just slightly moist and they press against mine insistently enough to make this a non-platonic kiss, but he's lacking the confidence to go further. My eyes slip shut, involuntarily and in the instant he starts to pull away, I know that's the last thing I want so I throw caution to the wind, forget about the drunk blonde and respond to him. I'm in a daze and uncertain about what to do with my hands, so I place them on his chest. There's still quite enough breathing space between us and I'm not in any hurry to bridge it.

All those times he kissed me before and I never felt the need to throw my arms around his neck, but it's there now. Another second and I'd have done it except he pulls away and I miss the feel of him immediately. This is way better than I remembered it.

It's almost 2 in the morning. What are we doing?

My first instinct is to look away, but for some reason my eyes land on his lips, and they look like lips which have just been kissed. I like that.

"So, what's the verdict?" He asks jokingly, but his features betray his nervousness.

I blush. "It was...nice."

"Yeah?" I think he might be encouraged.

I nod mutely, not sure how to proceed. How come poodle girl and the blonde got to feel this way before I did? I try to push it out of my mind, I'm not a jealous person. Why are my hands still on his chest?

"Do you want to, uh, do it again?" I ask him. Alright, now I know I've completely lost it. I can't believe I'm asking what I'm asking. I must sound pathetic. Thankfully, he doesn't need much encouragement, and soon, we're standing in my doorway and he lets his hands fall to my hips so that we're closer than we were before. It feels about a hundred times better than it should. The second kiss is the same as the first, slow and tentative, except this time I kiss him back as soon as our lips make contact and I think I can feel him smile a little.

After a long moment, we pull apart and my brain is working overtime. It needs to think about this. Sit and think, somewhere where Harry isn't in my line of sight so that I won't resort to something as embarrassing as asking him to kiss me again.

"That was, uh, nice, good, very nice. I, uh, have an early morning, and you probably do too, so..."

He nods, understanding what I'm saying, but I also sense he doesn't really want to go and I definitely don't want him to leave, but he's got to go. I smile at him apologetically and open the door wider.

"Was it like that....last night....with her?" I blurt out softly just as he's trying to leave.

He shakes his head back and forth and tucks a lock behind my ear. "Not in the least." He says and I really want to believe him.

I'm thankful when he finally decides to give in to what I've asked of him and goes. Halfway to his room, I'm still in the doorway of my own and he whips his head around, gives me a tiny smile before he disappears.

. . . .




I fully expect next morning to be awkward. Were it not for my need to report to the office at 10, I'd stay in my room, under the covers, but alas, I don't have that luxury.

As I'm about to hit the stairs, I hear the doorbell and he gets it. So he's been up for a while, I deduce.

The perky voice belongs to none other than poodle girl. "Morning Harry!"

"Oh, Holly, hi."

"Did you guys get your paper? I didn't get my paper, that damn owl didn't bring it."

My flip flops smack against my heel as I walk down past the hall and into the kitchen, and even though I'm behind him and he can't see me, he knows I'm up. Maybe it's good she showed up, she's saving me from an uncomfortable morning. I don't know where we stand, there wasn't any talking last night. And maybe I'd like to curse her nose off her face.

*




I can learn from my mistakes.

Holly is standing in front of me and Hermione is behind me. It isn't that hard to turn around.

"You're up."

Clearly.

"Yeah, I have some things to do. I'll see you later." She brushes past Holly and I and is halfway out before I move.

"Hermione!"

"I'm late, Harry."

"Will you be home for dinner?"

"I should be."

"Okay."

She nods toward the house. "You'd better attend to Heather."

I don't correct her.

. . . .




When she gets home, I'm waiting for her in the living room.

She drops her bag on the floor.

"You didn't cook for me?"

"I thought we could go out."

"Ahhh, so it wore off already?" she teases.

"I thought we could go do something."

She's quiet.

"Hermione?"

"Like a date?"

"Yeah."

"We need to talk, Harry."

I shake my head, not willing to give her an inch so that she can take a mile.

"We need to eat. I'm starving. Let's go."

I lead the way and reluctantly, she follows me.

"What do you want to do?" I ask her, as walk down to Diagon Alley.

"Eat."

"After that."

"Harry, I can't date you."

"Why not?" I want to know.

"You know why."

"I also know that you kissed me back last night."

She blushes and turns toward the window.

"Momentary lapse of judgment," she mutters, trying to make it sound like she's translating her ancient runes or something.

"Thanks."

"Who are we kidding, Harry?" She turns back to me.

"Ourselves?" I guess. "We are, Hermione. I want you. I think you want me."

She shakes her head.

"I can't."

"Why not?"

"Because I can't."

"Because you're afraid."

"Of what?"

"That you're Holly. Or Taryn. Or whoever."

"Why can't we just stay friends?"

"I'm friends with Ron. Lavender. Ginny. Fred and George. Parvati. Oliver. Some other people I knew in school. I have lots of friends. Enough friends."

"What's wrong with having one more?"

"I don't want them in my bed, Hermione."

"God, why do you say things like that?"

"They're true?"

"If I asked you to turn around right now, if I said, 'Let's go home and have wild sex on our dining room table', what would you say?"

I stop and turn to her.

"I'd say no," I say seriously.

Her eyes grow wide.

"I want to be with you, Hermione. But not because it's been awhile between pit stops. And not because I want to add you to my list, but because I look at you and I forget to breathe. Because I'm seeing you everywhere."

"If you want me..."

"I want you."

"Then..."

"If you asked me to take you home to make love with you... if you were willing to rip up that list, I'd move so fast your head would spin."

She looks down at her hands.

"A date, Hermione. That's all I'm asking for. Dinner. Then you decide."

"Even if I decide that all I want is dinner?"

"Even if that's all."