Chapter 1

'Wait, what?'

Who was she? Fine, delicate features. Long, smooth hair, so deep a brunette as to be almost black. Skin alabaster white, with a hint of rosiness in the cheeks. Even as he looked at her, she flashed him a glance at him. Mischief in those blue eyes, desire. She turned quickly back to the class, pulling one corner of her bottom lip between her teeth and letting it slowly roll out. Harry shifted his hand… closer. Her blush deepened, and a tiny smile appeared on her face.

Harry felt himself stir…

"Harry! Geddup mate, you're gonna miss breakfast"

Harry's eyes burst open. Golden sunlight poured in through the windows of the Gryffindor boy's dorm. His friends and dorm mates were all already out of bed, mostly dressed and on their way out. Neville's hair was wet and already brushed from his morning shower. Only Ron was looking messy and out of sorts, but that didn't really speak to how long he'd been awake for. That was just Ron.

"Not like you to be the last one up Harry", Neville said, "You feeling alright?"

"Yeah, yeah. Thanks Neville, just must have needed the sleep.

No time to take care of it the old fashioned way of course. Harry spun his head around to be sure no one else was in the room then leapt out of bed, wrapped himself in the bed sheet and rushed to the bathroom. A cold shower was pretty much his only option now.

Hermione had already finished her breakfast and was trying to ignore the munching, slurping, mess making affair that was Ronald Weasley. She was double checking her Transfigurations homework when Harry bustled into sight. He'd almost missed breakfast, and was quite a bit later to the table than Ron. Not like he was an early bird, but he was definitely the more punctual of the two.

"Morning Hermione"

He nudged himself onto the bench next to her and she got a closer look at him. He looked, well, messy. But that was nothing new of course. Something was out of place though, she hadn't been friends with him this long without being able to pick up on his moods.

"Morning Harry. Are you ok?"

She laid a friendly hand on his forearm, poking out of his half rolled robe sleeves.

"Ahh, you're freezing! Why are you so cold Harry?"

"Oh. Uhh. I must have thrown the covers off last night"

"But your hair's wet, you've had a shower haven't you? No hot water?"

"Uhh, no there was. I was, uh. Just outside for longer than I thought. Forgot to bring my fresh robes you know?"

Well which was it? And he wasn't meeting her eyes either. Well she'd get to the bottom of it, but for now Hermione decided to let it lie. Harry still had to eat breakfast and there wasn't much time left before class started.

The Gryffindors and the Hufflepuffs trailed disconsolately into History of Magic. No one really looked forward to class, except perhaps as an excuse to do other homework or have a quick nap. Not that the professor minded, he barely seemed to notice. Hermione suspected that if no one turned up to a class he'd still just lecture away as if they had. Still, her quill was sharp and parchment ready as ever. No chance to further her education was to be passed up.

Today Professor Binns was continuing the Troll War of 1562 from where they'd left off last week. A small tribe of trolls had been migrating and had stumbled upon the wedding of an important wizard's daughter. The resulting furore had quite nearly led to the extinction of a whole magical species. Troll tribes were hunted down all over the country, and only a desperate plea from a group of leading potion makers, worried about losing key potion ingredients of course, had stopped the slaughter.

Her quill was scratching away as she suddenly felt Harry's left hand come to rest on her right knee.

"Hmm?" She turned to face him, a question on her face, but Harry seemed to be absorbed in jotting down notes.

Hermione frowned gently, but realising she hadn't heard a thing Binns had just said she quickly turned her attention back to the class.

A few minutes of ghostly droning and quill scratching had almost driven the sensation of Harry's hand from her mind completely, until it moved. Harry's hand moved slowly; the palm leading and the fingers trailing behind, inching, inching closer. As his fingers finally came off her knee his palm stopped moving, and his fingers wrapped around her upper thigh, his thumb taking the opposite side, softly squeezing.

Hermione felt a flush start to rise in her cheeks.

"Harry!" she whispered fiercely at him.

"Hmm? What is it?" he whispered back.

"Your hand"

"Huh?" Harry put his quill down, and lifted his right hand and stared at it quizzically.

"What's wrong with it?"

As he said this his left hand slid another few centimetres up her thigh in the same maddening way as before. Palm leading, fingers trailing like marionettes sliding up the sides of her legs. And as his palm stopped the fingers wrapped back down around her thigh and squeezed ever so softly. Hermione blushed harder and turned her head sharply back to Professor Binns.

Out the corner of her eye she saw Harry frown.

"What's is it Hermione? What's wrong?" There seemed to be genuine worry now in his quiet voice, and on the other side of him Ron turned his head to see what was happening, obviously hoping for something more interesting than the sleep inducing class.

Well she wasn't going to make a scene about it now.

"It's nothing, don't worry about it".

Ron turned almost immediately back, sighing into his boredom. Harry peered at her a bit longer, looking like he was actually confused and worried. The nerve!

Her right hand returned to note taking as she slowly tucked her left under the table. If Harry wasn't going to take his hand off she'd damn well do it for him. And yet as her hand reached across and brushed the top of his, Harry began to trace small circles with his fingers.

Hermione's breath hitched.

Her hand was still hovering over his, just lightly brushing it. She just had to grab his hand and lift it off of her. Easy.

His fingers stopped twirling.

His palm started moving again. Slowly, slowly he moved up and up, and up. Hermione eyes went wide, her breathing faster. Finally his palm stopped and his fingers wrapped once more around her thigh. Her inner thigh now. And as his fingers began once more to trace tiny circles she felt a deep warmth begin to seep into her.

"Alright class, that's it for today. Please write a two foot summary of the Troll Wars for our next class. Dismissed"

Harry's hand left her thigh and he began to pack his things away. He rolled up his parchment, stoppered his ink pot and wiped his quill on the rag kept for just this. Each item was put one by one into his bag.

"Hermione?"

Harry's question jolted her awake. She'd just been sitting there watching him. Watching his hands. All her own things were still out on the table. Another furious blush found its way onto her face as she quickly shoved everything away and ducked for the door.

"What's her problem?" Ron asked Harry

"I got no idea mate."

Hermione had been avoiding him all day. There was no doubt about it. She'd dashed ahead of them to each class, and put Ron between them whenever they all sat together. He'd tried to catch her eye any number of times but she was always looking quite firmly away. Twice he'd actually felt her eyes on him, and turned to catch her head snapping back, a light blush on her cheeks.

Ok. This was very strange. Even for Hermione, who was not a typical girl after all. Though now that he thought about it, he didn't really know any typical girls. Maybe this was normal?

"Hey you think something's up with Hermione Ron?

"Ah who can tell with that one anyway? I'm sure if it's important she'll rope us in at some point"

"Yeah, I guess so"

Still it ate at Harry all day. Ron was definitely his best mate, but that didn't mean Hermione wasn't just as important to him. Had he done something to make her angry with him? He wracked his brain over the whole day. That of course got him thinking about his dream and all its consequences. He had kinda lied to her this morning. But what was he supposed to say? 'I had a morning hard on and had to take a cold shower to make it go away?' Hardly breakfast conversation. She'd have been angrier if he'd said that right?

Then she'd acted strangely in History of Magic. Something about his hand? He looked at his right hand again, but there didn't seem to be anything wrong with it, best as he could tell. His left then? No that had been under the table, she wouldn't have been able to see it.

Well he had to talk to her obviously. But how was he going to do that when she wouldn't even look at him?

Luckily his problem was solved for him. As he opened his bag for the final class of the day he saw a paper plane lying inside it. A note. Hermione must have charmed it to fly into his bag between classes. He folded it open.

"We need to talk.

Fourth floor corridor.

H"

Ok he was definitely in trouble. No 'Dear Harry'. Short, terse sentences. And she'd never signed her name with just an 'H' before. Well, whatever he did he'd make it up to her. She was definitely too important a friend to lose.

The rest of the class dragged by. Hermione sternly refused to look his way, and he really couldn't focus on anything else. When it was finally over Hermione was the first to bustle her way out. Harry followed more slowly with Ron, and a few paces down the corridor he excused himself.

"I'll see you at the dorm later"

"Yeah no worries mate"

Ron was already engaged in a healthy argument about the Chudley Cannons chances this season, so he barely noticed Harry leave.

Harry made his way up the winding staircases to the Fourth floor. All the way he was wracking his brain about what he'd say to Hermione, and trying to figure out what she'd say to him. Why was she so angry anyway? He was so distracted in fact he forgot about the false step and lurched forward as his foot hit empty air. Geez what a day…

Hermione tapped her foot impatiently as she waited for Harry to arrive. The day had been a real trial. She'd barely been able to focus in class. And try as she might she couldn't stop thinking about the impression of Harry's hand on her thigh. The heat, the weight, the dragging palm and the way he'd squeezed her. His circling fingers…

Had someone been watching Hermione right now, they'd have seen her tapping foot slow to a halt, her eyes taking on distant look, the lids sliding halfway down.

Just then Harry rounded the corner and a furious blush stole over Hermione's face and she swivelled quickly away from him to hide it.

'Oh dear', thought Harry. 'She won't even look at me. I guess it must have been something really bad.'

He walked slowly up behind Hermione, stopped a few feet away from her, but she still didn't turn. She didn't say anything either and he was left staring at the back of her bushy haired head. Ok, it was up to him to start.

"Hey Hermione. Umm, I'm really sorry about this morning ok?"

Well that was a good start she thought. She didn't say anything though, or turn around. Her blush seemed to have intensified as he got closer. Damn her stupid body.

"I shouldn't have lied to you ok? I had a cold shower this morning, that's why I was so cold"

Wait, what?

"I just didn't want to tell you. The reasons were kind of, awkward, you know?"

Did Harry think that was really what this was all about? She'd completely forgotten about breakfast this morning. Well this wouldn't stand.

Hermione whirled on Harry now. She was pretty sure most of the red in her face was from anger now anyway.

"Is that really all you have to feel sorry about Harry?"

"Umm, I think so? There was something you said in History of Magic. Something about my hand? But I don't know what made you so angry."

The fierce look Hermione gave him now had Harry shrinking back. He didn't think he'd ever been afraid of Hermione before right now.

"You don't know? You don't know!?" Hermione's voice went up an octave as she repeated the question.

"Harry you were groping my thigh for the whole class!"

"Wait. What? What!? No I wasn't!"

"It could hardly have been anyone else Harry. You were the only one sitting next to me you know"

"I didn't Hermione, I swear. I mean, I would never…"

Hermione stared him down. He was definitely squirming now. But he didn't look guilty, just confused…

"Do you really not remember Harry?"

"No! I promise Hermione! Did I really… grope you?"

His voice went soft on the word, like he didn't even want to say it. The boy could stand up to dark lords and dementors but he couldn't say the word grope? Maybe something was really up here.

"Ok Harry. If you really don't remember doing it, I guess I can forgive you. But we're going to have to figure out why you did it. We don't want it happening again do we?"

"No! I mean, yes! I mean… But umm, what exactly was I doing? I can remember the whole class. Even you telling me about my hand, but I can't remember what my hand was doing."

His warm hand on her thigh. The circling fingers.

Hermione felt her face go red again and she started to splutter out a reply when a new voice made itself heard.

"Yes my lovely, we'll be sure to catch some idle boned students tonight. I've got a good feeling. Maybe Professor Snape will finally let me use the thumb screws"

Filch, and Mrs Norris no doubt, coming around the corner. They'd be on them in seconds.

Hermione grabbed Harry's hand and dragged him quickly towards the nearest door. A wave of her wand unlocked it and a second swung it open. They rushed in and a third swish closed the door soundlessly behind them.

"Wow Hermione! You're getting really good at the wordless spells."

"Shh Harry!"

"Why?"

Why? Cause of Filch of course. And they were out of curfew. Weren't they? No. They weren't, classes had just ended. They didn't have to hide at all. Hermione groaned. Well they couldn't burst out now could they? That would look terribly suspicious. Filch would jump to conclusions if he saw them crawling out of a closet together. She only then registered that it was a closet she'd rushed them into, dark and cramped. And Harry was, by necessity, pressed rather closely against her.

Filch could be heard muttering his way down the corridor, and while Harry knew they didn't have to be hiding he'd obviously also figured it would be bad to be caught at it right now.

He grinned down at her mischievously, and Hermione couldn't help but smile back. This was an absurd situation of course. And he was her best friend, no matter what was going on with him today.

She breathed out a sigh, and let herself relax. Hermione chuckled softly to herself and rested her head lightly against Harry's chest, the gesture easy and natural in the cramped quarters. She felt Harry snake his arms around her and she leaned further into the hug. Not like Harry to initiate a hug, but it certainly felt good right now, and she wrapped her arms around him in return.

As Filch made his nattering way down the hall, Mrs Norris occasionally chiming in answer, Hermione breathed in Harry's smell. She'd never really thought about his smell before. And it wasn't like they hadn't been closed up in tight places before. So why was she thinking about it now? Maybe it was his arms wrapped around her, nestled in the crook of her back. Almost as if he knew she was thinking about them, Harry began to move his arms.

One arm began first. It slowly traced a line up her back. Vertebrae by vertebrae it crept up, sending shivers back down her spine. Up and up and up. Harry met the strap of her bra and lingered. He felt out the shape and dimension of the catch. Meanwhile his other arm had begun to move as well. First it tightened around her back, forcing her even closer into Harry. Then it began a slow dance of its own, rubbing circles into her lower back.

Hermione's head was now pressed firmly into Harry's chest. Her eyes were wide and her breath came in short, terse pants. What was going on with him? What was going on with her for that matter? Her arms were still wrapped tightly around Harry's torso, tighter now than ever actually. That was the wrong message right? She should be pushing him off her, right?

Harry's top hand had continued its upward journey, lingering in the nape of her neck. He ran a finger softly along her jaw line and as he reach her chin he tilted her head upward. Hermione looked up into his face, his eyes, so vibrant green it was like they were glowing with a light of their own. So lost was she that she didn't notice his face moving closer until it was too late.

Harry's lips met hers.

Hermione's mind went blank.

Harry was kissing her. Harry. Was. Kissing. Her!

Was she kissing back? She didn't think so. Did that soft moan come from her throat? Couldn't have been. Must have been!

Harry had pulled her lower lip between his teeth now, and his tongue swiped languorously across it one way then the other. Where had Harry learnt to kiss like this? No, better question. Why was Harry kissing her like this?

Hermione realised her arms were still wrapped tightly around Harry. Well no wonder, he just kept on kissing her. Soft pecks. Hard forceful mashing of his face to hers. His tongue snaking out every now and then across one lip, the other. Her lips between his teeth, biting, sucking.

Slowly, by sheer will Hermione released her arms. Harry's were still wrapped tightly around her and she had to squeeze her arms between them, palms on his chest. Harry just kept on kissing her, but finally a firm push from Hermione separated them.

Harry started down at her. His eyes burned with some inner fire she'd never seen there before.

"Harry…" Hermione just barely breathed out.

He frowned.

"Who's Harry?"