Disclaimer: I own nothing but the plot.

This chapter is rated M.

Every Little Thing She Does Is Magic

"Can't remember what I did last night
Maybe I shouldn't have given in but I just couldn't fight
Hope I didn't but I think I might've
Everything, everything is still a blur"

Britney Spears - Blur

Harry was still asleep when Hermione entered into the living room, a simple dark blue nightdress covering her body. Despite the shy rays of light that were falling over the sofa bed, Harry didn't seem to be disturbed in the slightest. Doing her best to be quiet, Hermione headed toward the kitchen in order to prepare some coffee; after her long night, she really needed one.

Harry had been more than talkative during the evening, to Hermione's great surprise. She had thought that he wouldn't be able to talk further about his discussion with Ginny, but, on the contrary, it seemed to have helped him to open up about what had happened on Thursday evening. He told her about everything; Ginny's arrival, the way she tried to kiss him as if nothing had happened during the last three months – and, to be honest, Hermione did her best at this moment to remain calm –, and all the things that she said to him, or at least, what the young wizard could remember.

Hermione had been particularly shocked by Ginny's words about Harry's parents and his insecurities when it comes to lose someone close to him. She knew about it since she was a teenager, and never had she thought about talking about something so important and hard to her friend in such a hard way. She had tried to calm him down, especially about James' custody. Inwardly, she knew that Harry had better chances to win against Ginny, especially since she would be away pretty much every week in the upcoming three years. Wouldn't it be better for James to stay with his father, since he could obviously continue to work as an Auror without travelling as much as he had done in the past, rather than following his mother around the world? It was the question that she had asked him the previous night, and Harry had agreed. Of course, it was, and he was starting to think that everything would be fine, after all.

When she plugged the coffee maker in, Hermione heard some noises coming from the living room where Harry was, and retained a smile; he seemed to wake up slowly, which was a good thing since it was already ten in the morning. She took two cups into the cupboard, thinking that Harry would want to drink something hot and full of caffeine too, and also prepared a few slices of bread and butter for two.

Less than five minutes later, she joined him with a complete breakfast on a tray.

"Did you sleep well?" she asked while putting the tray on the coffee table, paying attention not to pill the coffee on the carpet.

"Not so bad for a sofa bed," Harry grinned before searching for something into the pocket of his jacket that was on the sofa's arm. He was bare-chested, the lower half of his body covered with a sheet, and Hermione sat on the sofa bed, taking care not to enter in contact with him.

"What are you looking for?"

"This," he said proudly when he finally put his right hand on his glasses.

"You are supposed to wear contact lenses," Hermione noticed.

"Well, I can't wear them when I'm asleep, can I?"

"I guess not," she admitted with a smile.

It was quite odd to see Harry with his glasses again, after all these years. It was like going back to Hogwarts, and, despite the fact that Hermione had worked there as a teacher not so long ago, she couldn't help but find it weird.

"Please, don't stare at me like that," Harry chuckled. "I have the feeling that you are going to lecture me like you always did when we were in Hogwarts."

Hermione vehemently shook her head before taking her own cup of coffee.

"Oh God no, I am not going to do something like that. But please, help yourself with something to eat or drink," she said with a movement of head toward the tray. "I'm sure that you are starving."

"After all the lasagnas that I ate last night, I'm full for a week – at least. But I'm not going to refuse a cup of coffee, I know how incredible your coffee is."

"Do you plan to do something special today?" Hermione suddenly asked after a few moments of silence. She knew that Ginny was supposed to come home with James the next day, and since it was Saturday, she had nothing special to do herself.

"No, to be honest. Before coming here, I was expecting to spend a long weekend with myself and I, so being with you is already something special."

Hermione blushed, even if she knew that Harry would have said something like this to her before. Before every changed between them, before the kisses that they had exchanged, before the moment when they had almost made love on this exact sofa, a week ago.

"What about you?" Harry went on, shaking Hermione out of her sudden torpor, dissipating her oh-so embarrassing memories.

"I am in your situation. I was expecting to spend this weekend here, with some books as companions. And here you are," she smiled.

"I can leave if you'd prefer," Harry said, suddenly serious.

"No, you don't have to leave. I'd prefer you to stay to be honest," she concluded in a whisper before disappearing behind her cup of coffee.

"It's always better to be bored to death in someone else's company, isn't it?" Harry asked in a laugh.

"Are you implying that you are going to spend a bad Saturday with me?" Hermione retorted, her right eyebrow raised in a comical way.

"I wouldn't dare, Milady."

"I like that better," she said, amused.

The morning passed slowly, and around midday, right after each of them had taken a shower, Harry put his jacket on.

"Weren't you supposed to stay today?" Hermione asked, confused by his attitude.

"I owe you a dinner," Harry reminded her. "I know that it's lunch time, but I thought that it would be go for us to go outside and to take advantage of the sun – it's quite unusual to have an Indian summer in London, so..."

He smiled awkwardly, and Hermione understood that Harry just needed to go out in order to forget about the dark ideas that he was thinking about since the previous day – and, surely, since Ginny's arrival. She nodded and headed to her own jacket and her shoes.

"Alright, Mr. Potter, I'll follow you."

"Even in a dark and not so respectable place?" he joked, before following her in the corridor. He put his hand on the small of her back when they passed the entrance door, and Hermione was almost sure that he felt her shudder while doing so.

Right after closing the door behind them, she turned around to meet his green eyes.

"Especially in a dark and not so respectable place," she muttered with a smile, noticing his Adam's apple moving while he swallowed hard, visibly moved by her reply. "Let's go," she went on in order to become less tense.

Harry nodded and followed her, his hands buried into his pockets. He wanted to touch her, to feel her soft skin under his fingers, but he knew that it was prohibited. It was too soon to do what they had done in the past again, and especially, it wasn't a good idea to do it in public, with Ginny around.

They needed time, Hermione needed time, and it was for the best.

He just didn't know how long he could wait before kissing her again.

XxX

When they returned at her house that night, they were laughing uncontrollably.

"Did you see the waiter's face?" Hermione asked, trying to calm down in order to take a breath.

"How could I not see it? I guess that he thought that we drank a Polyjuice potion in order to "look exactly like Harry Potter and Hermione Granger"," Harry imitated the young waiter that had been surprised to see them in the restaurant that evening.

They had spent the day outside, enjoying the breeze and the sun of this month of September. They went to the park, they fed a few squirrels, and went to the British Museum, something that Harry had never done before despite the fact of living near London since years.

Hermione took advantage of this to teach him a few things about the classical antiquity, something that she had became fond of with time passing by. Then, to conclude their day in the best way, they had dinner together at the same restaurant where Harry had wanted to invite her on Thursday evening.

She tried to open the door with difficulty, still laughing.

"Damn, this door is such a pain to open," she cursed, and Harry put his hand on her hip, silently asking her to move in order to let him try.

She gave him her keys, and a few seconds later, they were into her flat, struggling to remove their shoes in the dark, forgetting to turn on the light of the corridor.

"Tell me again: why did we agree to take this bottle of wine when we both perfectly knew that it wasn't a good idea?" Hermione mumbled, wondering for a second if it wouldn't be a better idea to sit down on the wooden floor to be able to remove her shoes more easily.

"Because we both like that," Harry explained, a grin on his face.

Hermione shook her head, and, when she managed to get rid of her shoes, she let out a sigh of satisfaction. She righted herself just as Harry's mouth crush onto hers in the dark, his hands cupping her face while his tongue slid with ease between her parted lips. With a moan, and despite her surprise, she buried her hands into his dark hair, urging him to deepen the kiss.

Harry didn't need her to say it twice; his body pinned her against the white wall of the entrance corridor, and he was pretty sure that Hermione could feel his firm erection through his trousers. Was it a consequence of the wine, again? He wasn't sure; a couple of glasses couldn't do something like that to both of them. He just wanted her, just as much as Hermione seemed to want him. She pressed herself against him, closing the thin – but nonetheless present – gap between them, biting his lower lip from time to time, eliciting a groan from the green-eyed wizard.

They could just feel each other, since they weren't able to see anything in the dark. Hermione felt Harry's hands entered in contact with the soft skin of her stomach, caressing her with haste, before struggling with her jeans' buttons.

"You should have wear a dress," Harry muttered against her red lips, a smile on his face while Hermione get rid of her trousers with much more ease than with her shoes. Her t-shirt quickly followed her pants and Harry did the same with his own clothes. Once he was able to feel the warmth of Hermione's skin on his own, he let out a moan full of desire for her.

"I can't wait, Hermione...," he muttered before casting a contraceptive charm upon them.

"I can't wait either...," Hermione whispered against his neck before breathing in heavily when he penetrated her in a single push.

She couldn't think of anything else apart from the man who was currently making love to her with a sensuality that she didn't know he had inside him.

In this maze of different feelings and thoughts, Hermione thought about something in particular: who would have thought that the dark and not so respectable place that they had talked about earlier would be the corridor of her own flat?

I wouldn't have, she inwardly answered to her own mute question, before letting her mind drift toward a world full of pleasure and lust.

Alright, now you know why this story is rated M. I don't think that I'll be able to update before Sunday, so I hope that you all enjoyed this chapter. :)

Thank you for following this story, you are the best readers EVER. I'm still shocked to see that we break the 200th reviews mark... Jslee102 wrote the 200th review, thank you! What you wrote is quite prophetic by the way... But I guess that we'll see it further in the story. ;)

See you soon!