The morning of 22nd December was crisp and dare-say delightful. Harry awoke to no list of chores which felt like a small miracle. The cat hopped off the heavenly unmade bed, stretching against the carpet before following him out of the room onto the hallway.
It seemed their biological clocks had somewhat aligned today that he bumped against Hermione, leaving the bathroom in the corridor, wrapped in her plush blue robe.
"Time for breakfast…" She explained, feeling somewhat bashful and warm-cheeked, her thoughts darting to the absolutely transcendent level of intimacy from last night.
"Good morning, 'Mione…" He mumbled out, running a hand through the mess of black hair. Her eyes darted to those long fingers, the same fingers that had caressed her breasts last night.
Harry reached for her, attempting to kiss her on the cheek. Surprised, Hermione swiftly turned her head. His kiss landed instead on the delicate, sweet-soft lobule of her ear.
He heard her gasp and felt goosebumps arise on her skin. Her eyes were as wide as saucers when he looked at her and she just stood there like a statue in the middle of the corridor, not knowing how to react.
He made a face and scratched the back of his head, looking a bit lost and a bit worried at her state.
"Earth to Hermione?" He finally attempted, waving his hand in front of her face, until it once again landed over the swell of her breast, nipple tender and hard under the silk. He heard her breath catch.
Hermione's eyes locked with his and soon she was overcome with an impossibly hot feeling in the pit of her stomach, as well as a rush of something she couldn't quite name before clumsily pulling him smack against her, nearly knocking them both over and kissing him on the mouth.
He was shocked out of his mind at first, but then grabbed her firmly by the waist, backing them up against the wall with picture frames of Hermione and her family from years ago. Her lips tasted of mint toothpaste and cinnamon cookies they'd been nibbling on the evening prior.
He didn't want to but they had to pause for breath, his forehead gently resting against hers, his fingers gliding up her waist and arm to cup her face. He kissed her softly, tenderly, and then trailed a line of kisses along her jawline until she all but melted into his touch when he once again reached that sensitive spot on her ear he now knew drove her mad with desire. Harry kissed and nibbled as Hermione clutched the fabric of his shirt, her heart beating like mad against his chest.
"Harry…" She whispered, fingers sliding up to tangle in his mess of raven hair. "Does the fact that I've been wanting to snog you for days make me an awful friend?"
He paused for a second and she felt him chuckle, his warm breath touching the sensitive skin of her neck.
"Must make me a doubly awful friend because snogging doesn't even begin to describe what I've been wanting to do with you the past days."
Hermione had great pride in the fact that she was mostly immune to men and their usually cheap brand of charms and seduction, but even she couldn't avoid the butterflies in utter furore inside her belly, or her legs threatening to fail her as he whispered.
Harry looked at her again, pressing his lips against hers once again. She could feel his arousal pressing against her.
"I may be falling for you, Granger."
She thought she might've died and gone to heaven upon hearing those words and then being pulled back into her bedroom.