Hi guys!

We're beginning with a bit of smut, then Harry and Hermione are talking about what happened. I actually worked out the entire plotline already, I just need to write it out for you guys :) So yay! I will probably need... 5 more chapters to wrap this up? We'll see. I hope you'll be there with me for the rest of the ride, and thank you to all who have shown me so much support the last couple of days! You are truly amazing.

Love, Floortje.

Chapter 6: How Harry's awkward dreams were not making things any easier and how Hermione kept her cool, as usual.

'You weren't at lunch today,' Harry said, accusatory. He stood in Hermione's office, wearing his Auror robes. He had just come back from a raid - he felt the soreness lingering in his bones. Hermione was still fixed on the stack of papers on her desk.

'I know.'

'Why?'

'Because it's too hard.'

He watched her face, that was filled with concern, and saw her bite her lip.

'I can't face you. It's ruined. Everything is ruined. We have to cancel our stay at Aunty Penelope's, I can't-...'

'You can,' he heard himself say, a raw tone in his voice. 'We will overcome this.'

He moved closer, as Hermione stood from her desk and they looked directly at each other.

'We just need some closure,' he heard himself say. 'One kiss... Just allow me to...'

The look on Hermione's face intensified. She stepped from behind the desk, letting her hands wonder over his uniform.

'Just one kiss,' she sighed back, walking closer to him, and her eyes looked heavy and hazy. 'Let's do that, yes. Let's share just one... Just one more...'

Their lips pressed together. Quickly Harry slipped his tongue into her mouth, tasting her, taking her, claiming her. He groaned against her lips, feeling himself grow hard, pressing against her. She moaned approvingly, completely overcome with lust - documents were banished from her desk, and soon she lay on her back, Harry straddling on top of her, never wanting their lips to part again, but he knew he needed to let go if he wanted to taste more of her, and frankly, he didn't think he ever wanted something so badly in his life. He released her lips, fumbled with his uniform, caught up in the buttons and whatnot, when Hermione used her wand to cast their clothes aside.

'Now,' she demanded, locking his lips with hers again. Her naked body looked blurry, as Harry did not know the details of her most intimate places, but he didn't mind. He focused on her lips, on her tongue, as he knew them all too well.

Slowly, he trailed down his kisses. Down her neck, her collarbone, her breasts, her stomach. He heard Hermione gasp when he slowly opened her up to him with his fingers. The gasp turned into a deep, wanting moan when his lips touched the most private part of her body, and her hands started to curl in his already messy hair to spur him on.

'Yes, Harry, please,' she pleaded. He didn't know what she pleaded for, but he Harry did know that her voice turned him on immensely, and that he wanted nothing more but to linger on her wonderful taste.

He loved being attentive towards her body like that, exploring her womanhood with his mouth and fingers, and as he felt Hermione start to tremble underneath him, he had never felt so powerful. She was loud, maybe too loud as they had not silenced the office, but who cared? The grasp on his hair tightened painfully as Harry drove her over the edge, but he didn't mind, he dove in deeper, to make sure she was as satisfied as she could be. Her body contracted heavily, and Harry felt victorious and so aroused.

'Up,' she sighed, out of breath, eyes still having trouble focusing from her waning orgasm. 'Up, I want to-...'

He got to her eye-level and their lips crashed together. She tasted herself on his lips, smiling seductively, and then let her hand trail to Harry's abdomen. He shut his eyes and growled contently. Yes, he thought. I have waited so long for this moment... Her fingers felt amazing, stroking him, as he kissed her wonderful, puffy lips. He wondered if she would be as skilled as he imagined she was, stroking firm and with confidence, letting Harry lean into her while he felt his climax come closer and closer.

'Hermione,' he moaned. 'Oh God, Hermione...'

He saw stars, as Hermione increased the speed on her strokes, and his orgasm rocked through him, as it washed over him, wave by titillating wave. He slumped against her, mumbled her name, and opened his eyes.

His dreams had gotten worse. Harry felt incredibly guilty as he felt the sheets span around him, damp with the intensity of his fantasy, and then he noticed a wetness in his briefs.

'Merlin,' he muttered. 'I really am a teenager again.'

He'd had a wet dream. A wet freaking dream, for crying out loud.

He placed his head in his hands, feeling absolutely worthless. Not about Hermione, not about her... It was the first Tuesday since their awkward mistletoe-incident. Today was lunch-day, he thought. Of course it was Tuesday, of course it was lunch-day, of course it had to be so stupid and complicated... Harry considered using the pensieve he had gotten to get rid of the currently still very clear memory of the dream he'd just had - he had done it with the most brutal recounts of what happened to him during the War on advice of his Healer. Then he decided against it. The process of removing memories and then replanting them was grueling, and he didn't want to get more exposed than he already was.

Maybe he should skip lunch with Hermione this time, though. Just to be sure.

After his obligatory cold shower, Harry arrived at the Auror Office, where he was immediately asked to assist in another hearing of Lackey, who'd been very tight lipped for the past few weeks. Usage of Veritaserum was not permitted on suspects, unless they were charged with murder or caused an imminent threat to the society, and currently, Lackey applied to neither. Harry hadn't sat face-to-face with Lackey up until that point: his presence had been disguised by an Undetectable Charm, as was protocol with higher officers, and functioned like how muggle officers used a two-way mirror.

'He's not budging,' Head Auror Holywell had mentioned - a stern, older woman, with bright blue eyes and blond hair that she always wore in a tight bun. 'We just need some kind of confession from him, Potter. We thought that he might start talking if he'd see you again - you know, refresh his memory a bit.'

Harry knew what Auror Holywell meant by "refreshing his memory" and he looked back sharply.

'You know I don't work like that, Eleonore.'

'Well, we need him to talk,' the woman said. 'His statement is vital.'

'Let me observe him first,' Harry decided. 'I want to see how he reacts to certain questions, before I reign him in.'

'Fine,' Eleonore Holywell said. 'But I am not against Memory charms or Occlumency. If you ask for a permission form, we'll give it to you, Potter. You know that.'

Harry watched Lackey being interviewed for a few more hours. It was exhausting to watch, but probably even more to go through, as Lackey cut off every question with a quick "no comment". Sometimes he would pause before replying, but it was only those words that escaped his lips. "No comment. No comment. No comment."

At two o' clock Lackey was allowed his mandatory break. As the other Aurors exited the room, Harry discussed their interrogation tactics with some of his colleagues, until he was interrupted by his secretary.

'Harry, sir?' she asked, sounding a bit pressured. 'Miss Granger is waiting for you at your office.'

Shit, he had forgotten to owl her.

'Didn't you tell her that I would be on Nott's case all day, Polly?'

'I did, but she was very persistent. She said that no matter what, she needed to talk to you today.'

Harry flinched inwardly. This was not good.

With led in his shoes, he walked to his office, bracing himself when he opened the door. Hermione sat in front of his desk, quill behind her ear, engrossed in a file she had brought with her. When she looked up, he saw spots of ink on her face indicating that she had a busy morning as well, and he couldn't help but smile. It reminded him of simpler times, at Hogwarts, where Hermione would be so concentrated on finishing her notes in class that she would involuntarily cover her face in ink splatters.

'You-... You've got some...' he said, as he stepped over the threshold.

He pointed to his face and Hermione touched her cheek, felt an ink smudge and cast a quick Scourgify.

'Busy day as well then, I reckon,' Harry diverted, but Hermione sighed.

'I'm always busy, and I know you are too. But as you said last time, you've never skipped lunch with me. I know things have been... awkward. Don't get me wrong.'

She looked pained, and Harry felt his heart sink.

'Really, Hermione-...'

'We promised we wouldn't let this change us, so... Don't do this. Don't avoid me.'

Harry sat down in his chair, rubbing his temples.

'I know. I'm sorry. It's just... I overstepped. And it makes me feel so awkward.'

'What do you mean, you overstepped? I was the one who overstepped, clearly.'

'You?'

Hermione snorted.

'Who was the one who... Well... Oh Harry, don't make me say it. You know what I did.'

'I instigated that second kiss,' Harry defended.

'Yes, and I was the one who... Fine! Who put their tongue down your throat.'

'And I was the one who pressed his hard-on against your thigh,' he retorted, feeling angry.

Hermione's angry face softened and she looked stunned.

'You what?'

'I-... Well, yeah,' Harry said, ashamed. 'You must have noticed that.'

'No, I didn't,' Hermione said, with an awkward pause.

'Oh...'

Harry felt himself turn absolutely crimson. They fell silent for a moment, and were only interrupted by Harry's secretary, that brought in a plate of sandwiches. Harry seriously contemplated throwing him out of the window.

'You ordered this, Miss Granger?'

'Yes, thank you Polly.'

Hermione cleared her throat and ruffled through her hair.

'Sandwich?'

He accepted, chewing on the hopefully poisoned bread, knowing that he had to continue what he wanted to say. I wish I could sink through the floor and disappear, he thought to himself.

'I thought you felt it,' Harry said, quietly. 'I mean, you broke the kiss off after that, and I can't blame you for it. It was totally wrong of me.'

'Of course it wasn't wrong of you, Harry,' Hermione said, empathetic. 'It's a bodily reaction. It's not like you could help it, right?'

Harry avoided eye-contact with her and stared at his turkey-sandwich, as if it would come and rescue him. Hermione noticed and touched his right hand with her fingertips.

'If I'm completely honest - I was worked up too. Way too worked up, might I add. I just have to thank my lucky stars that I'm not a boy, I guess. But we were drunk, Harry. We were both drunk, we haven't had a relationship for a while. I can't even remember when my last kiss was. Probably Ron, now I think of it, but I can't say that was something memorable...'

They chuckled and Harry was able to look at her again.

'You looked really handsome, and you had been so sweet, and the champagne just make me lose my cool. I'm sure you felt the same. It was a weird feeling. But it was just that - a fleeting feeling, right? We were vulnerable, we took advantage of each other and our needs and the situation. Bad, yeah, but... We can move on from this, can't we? I mean, I wouldn't know what to do if-... If-...'

'Me neither,' Harry said, coarsely. 'I couldn't live without our friendship, Hermione.'

'Well, that settles it then,' Hermione said, matter-of-factly. 'We won't let this get in the way of our friendship. It's probably a good idea to break off this whole engagement-scheme, but... Well, we might want to wait until after Christmas...'

'Aunty Penelope,' Harry nodded. 'I agree. I want to give her a memorable Christmas. She deserves that more than anything.'

'Can we pretend for just a few more days?' Hermione asked. 'If we agree to each other that we won't kiss, no matter how intoxicated we are or how much people pressure us, we'll be good, right? No reason to be tempted. We've spent Christmas a million times before, it will be just like that. Hanging out, playing games, opening presents and Christmas crackers, singing silly carols... We can do that!'

'We can,' Harry said, incredibly relieved. 'No kissing, and we will probably have to make something up about the sleeping arrangements as well, but... Well, we'll think of something. It'll be good. We won't risk what we have.'

'We won't,' Hermione agreed, and she weaved her fingers through his. 'You are too important to me, Harry. We won't.'

They looked at each other, and Harry managed to repress the jitters in his stomach for long enough to make meaningful eye-contact. God, Hermione was amazing. He felt himself smile sincerely. He would not lose her. Not now, not ever.

'Then I guess, we'll see each other the 24th, this Thursday? I'll come and pick you up around lunchtime, as usual, and we'll apparate to Aunty Penelope's place. You'll have to take me on a side-along, because I have no idea where she lives...'

'Sounds perfect.'

He looked into her eyes, wondering how it was possible that so many beautiful shades of brown existed, and why he was only now seeing that, and when in God's name he had become that cheesy. They had a pact. They would survive. That was all that mattered.

'Now, Harry, for another subject. Do you know how to be tactful around Goblins? I want to find a way to incorporate them in our new laws, and I have tried setting op advisory counsels, but-...'

They released their hands, both took another sandwich and sat back comfortably in their chairs. As they both discussed the subject of the goblins, Harry felt himself calm down a bit.

AN: Next up: Christmas-fluff! Yay! Can't wait to write it :) I hope to have enough time tomorrow, but I want to do a good job, so it might be longer. Love you!