Disclaimer: I do not own any of this, sadly.

Harry stood stock still for a moment, but Hermione wasn't letting him go. She pushed him against the wall, her body firmly against his, and was glad to feel a certain male reaction soon enough.

"Hermione," Harry pulled his mouth away with great effort. "WHAT IS GOING ON WITH YOU?"

"I'm so tired right now it should count as being drunk and not on control of my actions," Hermione said, wrapping her arms around Harry's neck. "And I need some cheering up after a very shitty day."

Then she jumped in again, kissing Harry with a passion neither of them had ever felt before.

Harry moaned, but pulled away again.

"What happened to you today?"

"It doesn't matter," Hermione grinned. "I can hardly feel the bruises now." She lowered her head and began to nip at Harry's neck, an action that was sure to give the wizard a few bruises of his own.

"Hermione, you - you - you're not in control of your faculties."

The witch heard the question in that sentence.

"Yes I am," she answered confidently, meeting his eyes. She lunged forward again to grab his lips with her own, at the same time lifting a leg to wrap around his hip.

Harry's hands flew up and pushed her away, somewhat reluctantly.

"Hermione, as, um, lovely as this is, we really should talk about it first."

"Talk, talk, talk," Hermione scowled at Harry. "That's all you ever do. That's all I ever do - hell, that's all we ever do! I'm sick and tired of talking." She grabbed his jacket and pulled it open, ripping off several buttons at the same time.

Then she reached for Harry's chest and got to work making sure he wouldn't be able to talk. As they kissed, Harry seemed to give in, moaning and reaching to hold Hermione more firmly against him, even moving a hand to explore her bare legs and around to her lower back.

They tangled around each other, loving the sensations of finally exploring each other fully. It was something they had both dreamed of, but never acted on, for far too long.

Hermione drew back to take a quick breath, and Harry took advantage of the moment to push her away again.

"Stop, Hermione," he said, his voice a little raspy. "If something happens right now... Well, you're acting like you're drunk."

"I'm not drunk," Hermione rolled her eyes.

"You're not in control of your normal... inhibitions," Harry sighed. He looked at her wistfully, stroking her cheek with one hand. "You don't deserve that, not on our first time together."

Hermione growled in exasperation and stamped her foot on the ground. Harry blinked; her action was quite full-bodied, as she was standing before him completely naked now.

"I love you, you love me. We want to shag. What's the problem?"

"You love me?" Harry whispered.

Hermione tossed her hair and rolled her eyes again.

"You're being rather slow tonight, Harry. Catch up."

Harry slowly smiled, lifting a hand to stroke down her jawline.

"You love me." He stated, his voice full of awe.

"Mmmm," Hermione sighed, closing her eyes at the pleasant caress.

"Then we really need to talk," Harry murmured.

Hermione didn't answer. She just relaxed into his arms and Harry reached to catch her as she let out a small snore.

"Hermione?" Harry chuckled softly. She was definitely asleep.

He swung her gently into her arms and carried her to the nearest bed, which was in his bedroom. Since Hermione was already naked, he didn't need to undress her, and slid her easily under the blankets. He was sorry to have the blankets covering up her body, but he didn't want her to get cold.

After a moment's thought, Harry slid off his shoes, dropped his jacket onto the floor, and slipped under the covers beside Hermione. She turned towards him, burying her face in his shirt, and he gladly wrapped his arms around her.

Harry had often imagined this moment, the first time he had a naked Hermione in his bed, for years - and it had never happened like this. It proved that life was crazier than his wildest dreams.

"Apples," Hermione moaned into Harry's shirt.

Harry grinned amusedly before closing his eyes and settling to sleep.

Hermione's eyes hurt as she opened them.

"Owww," she groaned. She never knew she could hurt her eyelid muscles...

She looked around carefully, not moving a muscle after discovering how much one little finger hurt. How did she get in bed? Whose bed was this? Then she started to remember the events of the night before.

"Oh Merlin," Hermione gasped. "Did I really talk to Kingsley that way? Did I really strike Nott speechless? Oh no... Did I really say that to Harry? Did I really DO that to Harry?"

She was still looking around the room, slowly realizing it was Harry's, when Harry entered wearing only a pair of pants and an open, unbuttoned dark green shirt that looked very... delicious on him.

Hermione forget instantly about Harry's possible deliciousness when she smelled what Harry was carrying to the bed.

"Good afternoon, Hermione."

"Hey, Harry," Hermione sighed, offering him a small, shy smile. "Would you mind telling me... how exactly I got here? And what, exactly, I did last night?"

Harry smiled in amusement, and Hermione blushed.

"That may be a talk we should have after you've eaten your breakfast."

"It's that bad?" Hermione said weakly.

"No, not that bad," Harry told her as he put the breakfast tray down beside her. Then he moved to the end of the bed and sat down by her feet.

Accepting Harry's rules, Hermione did as he said and ate. Her stomach was very grateful as she shoveled down eggs, hash browns, sausage, and pancakes. She was thankful for the millionth time that Harry knew how to cook (unlike Hermione, who failed at making spaghetti).

She glanced over at Harry, and every time she did, she realized he was just looking at her. Oh, what HAD she done?

"What did I do?" Hermione finally asked again.

Harry looked at her, and straight faced, replied, "You lost your towel."

Hermione knew she was blushing again, redder than ever before.

"I did?" she croaked.

"Yes, you did. On purpose, in fact."

Hermione hid her face in the pillow.

"I don't want to know any more," she said, her voice muffled.

"I think you should," Harry said, as he came to sit beside her, moving the breakfast tray to the bedside table. "It might not be as bad as you think."

"You don't know what I'm thinking," Hermione said, peeking out at him.

Harry reached out and took the pillow gently off of Hermione's face.

"I have a good idea." He gazed at her intensely for a minute. "You said some things that I'd like to hear you say again now that you're well-rested and thinking properly."

"You're going to have to tell me more, Harry," Hermione said, looking up at him, still rather flushed. "I don't know what was real and what was just a dream."

Harry leaned forward with a smile and pulled the side of his shirt aside to reveal... a rather large hickey.

Hermione moaned in dismay.

"Harry, I'm so sorry, I wasn't thinking straight, I mean, I wouldn't have..."

"What you did doesn't matter, what you said does." Harry said firmly.

"And what did I say?"

"Well, in your effort to get... shagged," Harry said, calmly and brutally, "You said that you loved me."

Hermione shot straight up in bed and promptly winced as her muscles protested the action.

"I said WHAT?"

"I only need to know if you meant it."

"If I meant it?" Hermione asked weakly, wondering how on earth she could possibly get out of this now.

Harry leaned forward, until their faces were inches apart.

"Do you love me, Hermione?" He had never sounded so serious before.

"I, uh," Hermione began. "I, Harry, I, er..."

"There's no wrong answer," Harry told her softly. "I just need to know."

Hermione closed her eyes and shivered slightly. If there would be no bad consequences - Harry kept his promises - then she should just do it. Get it over with.

"Yes." Her eyes remained clenched closed.

She could feel Harry's fingers running down her face, a now-familiar and ever-welcome action.

"In love with me?"

Hermione could feel his warm breath on her face, and timidly opened her eyes.

"Yes, Harry. I'm in love with you."

Harry took a deep breath and beamed.

"You know, Hermione, you're much smarter when you're exhausted. Last night you had already realized that I was in love with you."

Hermione's face slowly turned from confused to understanding.

"I am in love with you," Harry repeated gently, and pressed his lips to Hermione's.

Hermione felt a warm tingle spread throughout her body, and didn't hesitate in grabbing hold of Harry and pulling him on top of her on the bed.

For the second time in twenty-four hours, Harry and Hermione found themselves stuck together, now horizontally, making out like it was the end of the world.

Suddenly Hermione groaned in pain, and Harry stopped to look at her.

"I feel like one giant bruise," Hermione sighed. "Otherwise I'd love to continue this..."

"It's all right," Harry smiled at her, rolling off her and laying a gentle hand on hers. "We can talk anyways."

"Oh," Hermione sighed.

"Did I make you lose all ability to speak?" Harry smirked at her.

"You," Hermione declared. "Are the most frustrating person alive."

"Excuse me, pot? I believe you are the one who is lying in my bed, naked."

Hermione carefully turned on her side before running a hand down Harry's exposed chest, through the soft hair down to the strong muscle of his abdomen.

"You're not much better."

"I suppose not, but we really do have a lot to talk about."

"I can think of better things for my mouth to be doing," Hermione replied suggestively. She moved a hand to Harry's nipple, and he let out a gasp.

"Careful, Hermione, my darling bruise. I might think you're drunk on exhaustion again."

"It's dreadfully hard to be bashful," Hermione smiled. "When we both are wearing so little clothing, and bear each other's marks..." She ran a finger along Harry's kiss-swollen lips before moving it down to trace the hickey she had given him the night before.

Harry leaned forward and kissed her again, making her sigh and leaving them both breathless. He pulled back again, took a deep breath, and said: "We're having dinner at the Burrow tonight. Are you all right with telling everyone about us?"

"Of course," Hermione smiled.

"You think they'll be surprised?" Harry mused.

"Well, Ginny and Luna have known how I felt about you for years..."

"And Ron and Neville figured out my feelings for you in 6th year..."

"And since Luna and Ron are living together..."

"And Ginny and Neville are engaged..."

"And since none of them can keep secrets from each other..."

"They're not going to be surprised."

"Not in the least," Hermione sighed.

"Well, maybe they'll be surprised on how it came about..."

Hermione blushed.

"You are NOT telling them that, Harry Potter."

"Oh, yes? And how are you going to make me?"

"By withholding this," Hermione said smugly, before kissing him slowly, deeply, and languidly.

"Okay," Harry gasped. "I won't tell."

After all, he didn't think he could live without it. He had Hermione Granger, and he wasn't letting her go anytime soon. Funnily enough, Hermione was thinking the exact same thing about him.