A/N: Sorry about the delay with this chapter, I know it's a few days later than I said it was going to be, but it took a little more editing than I had anticipated, I wasn't quite sure where to take it for the best, or how to end. But finally, it is completed.

Another quick thank you, to everyone who has continued to read, and for all my wonderful reviews. I hope you continue to enjoy, and I hope this chapter has been worth the wait.

xBx

DISCLAIMER: I own nothing but the title and the plot :) The rest belongs to JK. Rowling

~ Chapter 5: A Turning Point ~

"Behind the glass?" Hermione asked in rhetoric, while picking up shards of mirror, avoiding his gaze, "That would be a wall Harry," sarcasm coloured her tone, and Harry couldn't help but smile reluctantly, though he arranged his face into a humourless expression by the time she looked up, raising his eyebrows at her, inviting to her explain truthfully this time round,

"What?" she asked defensively, "It's a wall, a normal wall, separates the inside from the outside."

"Hermione, you're room is in the rafters, on one side the roof slopes down" He indicated to his left, and continued "as one would expect in the rafters. That opposite wall, the one with the mirror on it, does not have a sloping ceiling. Which makes me assume that it has been added on and that there is space behind it. The fact that the mirror goes from floor to ceiling makes me assume it's concealing a doorway of some sorts, and judging from Crookshanks' attempts at breaking the mirror, I'm going to assume it's a room that has something in it, something Crookshanks wants." His tone clearly indicated that he believed his 'assumptions' were in fact the truth, and he was only spelling it out so precisely to assure Hermione he knew full well she was hiding something.

"You're assuming a lot, aren't you?" answered Hermione, clearly not giving any hints about even the possibility that Harry was onto something, and Harry knew her well enough to know he wasn't finding anything out anytime soon,

"You're not going to tell me anything, are you?" He asked, admitting defeat

"Nope." Hermione stated, confirming Harry's belief, "There's nothing interesting to tell."

Harry could tell from the tone of her voice that this particular conversation was at end. "I'm sorry, I didn't mean to pry." Harry stated, giving up for the present, "You want any help?" he offered, watching here throwing the large shards of glass into a bin,

"Nah it's fine, I pretty much got it all" she answered, looking up with a smile of thanks for the offer, "All the big pieces anyway, I'll get the rest with the Hoover"

"It would be easier with a wand, you know?" Harry muttered darkly, he knew he was pushing his luck but he couldn't refrain from the comment, unfortunately he was heard, and Hermione responded with a glare. Harry held up his hands in surrender quickly apologising, before she fired up, "I didn't think you'd hear that. I'm sorry." Hermione laughed at the hint of fear in his posture and voice, even when she didn't have a wand he was slightly scared of angering her…and he really didn't want a repeat of the arguments they had had when he had first arrived.

Harry didn't bring up the subject of the suspected hidden room again; the weeks continued to pass by and before he knew it, Harry had been staying with Hermione for nearly six weeks. He left for brief periods of time, sometimes an entire day – but as Hermione was often incredibly busy with her own work, he was never really missed, and he always managed to make it back in time for closing. As well as checking into Grimmauld place every now and then, to update Kreacher on his where-abouts, and get a fresh batch of clothes, he would spend a couple of extra hours at the ministry to catch up on paperwork. It wasn't long, however, before Harry started bringing that paperwork back to Hermione's, in order to spend less time away.

Hermione had now become so used to Harry's presence it was as if he had always been there. And it wasn't long before Hermione's customers forgot he was only a recent addition to the place.

It hadn't taken the pair long to fall into an easy routine: they would breakfast together, before Hermione went down to open up, at which point Harry would leave for work – always careful not to disappearate in Hermione's view, she was still adamant about not using magic in any way. When it came to the end of the day, after Harry's prompt arrival in time for clean-down and closing, Hermione would cash-up while Harry, once the place was fully swept and mopped, went upstairs to begin dinner (he'd picked up a lot of helpful hints and tips from Kreacher over the years), and if the day had been a particularly stressful one he would also run Hermione a bubble bath; they would spend every evening in comfortable companionship, curled up on the sofa with a bottle of wine.

Eventually the summer was over, the days were starting to shorten, and there was a definite chill in the air; the last warm days of September reluctantly gave way to the drearier days of October.

After two months of Harry's near constant presence in her life, Hermione began to forget that he had ever been out of her life, they had grown so close in such a short space of time, closer than she could have imagined, and Hermione had gotten so used to Harry being around that whenever he was called away to work for the entirety of the day, she began to feel lonely, and longed for his return. More than this, Hermione started to count down the hours until closing, something she had never done before as closing meant an entire evening of loneliness; now however, it meant an evening spent in the company of Harry, the prospect of which started to bring a flutter of excitement to her stomach. She began craving the time spent with him, finding the hours they spent apart more tedious every day, and she would often find her mind wondering, especially during those hours when business was slow, which was becoming more frequent now that the summer rush had ended. During these lulls she would undoubtedly find herself thinking of Harry, and what he might be doing, or something he had said the night before; today she was particularly lost in though of how he looked this morning when Hermione had come down the stairs and nearly ran into him as he came out of the bathroom, wearing a towel wrapped round his waste, his hair still wet. A sly smile found it's way onto Hermione's face as she recalled this particular memory; Hermione had been left momentarily speechless when she came downstairs earlier than usual, and had been met by Harry coming out of the bathroom, one hand holding a towel round his waist, the other rubbing a separate towel through his hair. He stopped when he saw Hermione staring, "Morning," he said, "the shower didn't wake you did it?" Hermione shook her head and managed to make a semi-coherent sound of "uh-uh" as she watched a water droplet roll from his neck, over his chest and down his abs…. his very toned and chiselled looking abs….

At the time, Hermione had wrenched her gaze back to Harry's face and smiled, a slight blush forming in her cheeks, and announced she'd make a start on breakfast, before hurrying to the kitchen. Now however, in the brief lull in business, Hermione remained lost in thought, thinking about the body she had seen this morning…. She wasn't sure why she was so mesmerised, she knew he had a good physique…. being an avid Quidditch player would do that to you, and even she had toned up a fair bit when they were searching for horcruxes, the runaway lifestyle proving a rather affective excise regime. But seeing it in person was something different. Her mind's eye moved on from Harry's chiselled six-pack onto his muscled arms, they weren't huge, body-builder arms, but they were strong looking, arms you'd feel safe in…. Hermione began to wonder what they would feel like wrapped around her, the thought sending a shiver down her spine….'and his thighs,' thought Hermione, though his thighs were completely covered by his towel this morning, her imagination told her he had good strong thighs… Hermione shook herself back into the present; she shouldn't be thinking these kinds of thoughts, especially not while working…. and especially not about her best friend. This was definitely crossing some sort of line. 'Merlin, girl, what is wrong with you?' She thought, 'The last thing you need is to go falling for Harry Potter' she silently reprimanded herself. Luckily, a late lunchtime flurry of custom helped Hermione regain control of her wondering imagination, and by the time Harry arrived back to help with the close down, her slightly inappropriate thoughts were well hidden, and almost forgotten, in the back of her mind.

Due to the general lack of custom, compared with the earlier summer weeks, the cleaning and cashing up look less time than usual, giving the pair a longer more relaxing evening to enjoy; by the time they had made their way from two bottles of wine they were the most relaxed they had been together since Harry's first arrival at the bay. They were both cosy on the sofa, settling in to watch some random movie playing on TV: Harry was lounged with his left arm draped over the back and Hermione sat turned towards him, her legs tucked under her, both hands cradling her drink. Eventually both had turned their bodies out toward the TV, their conversation coming to a natural lull as they became caught up in the film; Harry's arm remained over the back of the sofa, and before long Hermione was resting along Harry's side, her head falling into his shoulder as she became more relaxed, almost succumbing to sleep. Harry instinctively dropped his arm around her shoulders, holding her close, resting his head onto hers as Hermione snuggled closer to him.

"Hermione," Harry whispered,

"Hmm?" Hermione managed to sleepily respond, only vaguely aware in the furthest part of her mind that she was about to fall asleep in Harry's arms - a part of her mind that also vaguely remembered the uncovered arms and torso from this morning, she smiled lazily at this vague thought. Harry's mind was warring with itself: he so much wanted to stay right there and fall asleep on the sofa; the last thing he wanted was for Hermione to move away from him. On the other had, he felt he ought to be a gentleman and let the woman get a good nights sleep in her own bed, ready for another long day of business;

"We both have to be up early, maybe we should turn in…" Hermione turned her head up towards him, her eyes opening lazily, their faces were closer than either had anticipated. Hermione's heart race increased as she stared into his eyes, unable to look away, wine and weariness inhibiting her thoughts to a sluggish degree. She felt Harry's heart quicken, where she was still pressed up to his chest, which made her heart rate accelerate more, unbidden the image of him from this morning, in nothing but a towel, returned to her mind, and she felt her stomach fill with butterflies as lustful images filled her mind; her breathing hitched as she saw a flicker of something like want in Harry's eyes.

Harry likewise felt Hermione's heartbeat as they were pressed so close together, the slight feel of her breath on his neck sent a shiver up his spine, he was sure she would be able to see the need in his eyes, he heard her breath catch and before he could control what he did, he brought his lips down to meet hers.

He kissed her gently, his lips barely brushing hers, unsure how she was going to react. Hermione responded immediately, lifting her head to Harry, deepening the kiss.

A/N: I know it's rather shorter than the previous couple, and not a lot as happened, but I felt it was time for a little bit of fluff to lighten the mood :) and this seemed like the right place to end it.

I'm starting work on the next few chapters, the story is going in a completely different (and much better) direction than the original one I wrote years ago, which means these next few chapters need a LOT of work, so the next updates may be a while. I will, however, try to update in less than a weeks time.

Until then, please review and let me know what you think,

xBx