Their lips danced together and the kiss became more heated by the second. He was addicting, Hermione wasn't sure why. Maybe it was his lips or his taste, more likely it was the hope that she was helping him. Whatever the reason, she could not stop it. His hands were slowly causing her to come undone; the world around her began to fade into obscurity.
Thankfully, Harry had some wits about him and heard the trolley witch knock on the door. They quickly composed themselves and opened the door. As Hermione was buying some every flavour beans, Ron came back to the compartment with Ginny in tow. Ron Ginny and Harry began talking about Quidditch and Hermione went back to "reading" her book.
When Hermione lay in bed that night, she was too preoccupied to sleep. She kept playing and rewinding the kisses in her head like some bad teen movie.
"Maybe, if I stay with him, he'll let me be with him, he could lean on me…" she thought to herself. She knew somehow that he did not love her, and never really would, but she began to convince herself that he needed her. After all, friends help each other.
(a/n I know, it's short... but meh...)