SPOILERS: SS, CoS, PoA, GoF, OotP, QA, FB

RATING: NC-17. Use the honor system and DON’T READ if you’re under 17.

SHIPS: Harry/Hermione, mention of Harry/OC, Draco/Ginny

“Merlin, Mione!” Ron whined. Hermione pursed her lips and gave him her sternest look, and he gulped. He wasn’t about to back down, though, and she could tell by the lines on his face.

“No, Ron.”

“Mione,” he said, his voice full of threatening promises. “Remember all of those things you told me last week when you came to visit my sister?” She whipped around to gape at him, and satisfaction flooded his features.

“You wouldn’t,” she hissed, narrowing her eyes.

“Wouldn’t I? Hmm, wouldn’t Liss be interested to know that you’ve had a crush on Harry for the last, I don’t know, five years?” Hermione bristled at the nickname he’d used for Harry’s fiancée, Larissa.

“Since when do you call her Liss?” she asked coldly. “And my feelings for Harry are the exact reason I have to say no!”

“Mione, Mione,” he clucked his tongue. “It’s not like I’m asking you to strip for him.”

“You bloody well are, Ronald Weasley!” she sputtered.

“Okay, but only partially,” he laughed. She began reshelving the books on the cart in front of her, and Ron winced at the force she used to slide them back in their places. “Look, all you have to do is dance, and strip down to your skivvies.”

“I don’t understand why you came to me for this,” she said hotly, knowing that her cheeks were burning. “Bachelor parties are traditionally for the bachelor to go and have a wild last night of dancing and drinking.”

“And it will be that,” he promised.

“But nowhere have I ever heard that the bachelor’s best female friend has to be the stripper!” she hissed angrily.

“Mione, I’m asking you because Harry knows you. He’s comfortable with you. You know he’d be all weird around a stripper he didn’t know.”

“But the fact that he knows me should be something that would make him uncomfortable as well,” she pointed out, pushing the cart of books to the next aisle. He followed behind. Thank goodness he’d at least confronted her with this after the library had closed, so there were no patrons around to hear this utterly humiliating conversation.

“Why?”

“Because he’s known me since I was eleven, Ron. He doesn’t even think of me as a real girl! Besides, I’m not stupid. Strippers aren’t just there for the enjoyment of the bachelor. They give lap dances and stuff to the other men in attendance, and I have no desire whatsoever to give Neville Longbottom and Draco Malfoy lap dances!” She punctuated her sentence by shoving a book into an empty slot on the shelf.

“Think of it as a gag. You go, you dance, Harry laughs his arse off when he sees it’s you. Maybe you’ll even get one of the other guys to ask you out.” The remark had the effect he’d hoped, and she gave him a sideways glance.

“You think… you’re telling me,” she said, letting her arm drop, and turning to face him. “That you think if I show up and dance half nude in front of these men that one of them will ask me out?”

“They all appreciate your intellect, Mione,” he nodded. “Maybe after dancing for them, they’ll appreciate your gorgeous body as well.” The color on her cheeks heightened, and she smiled shyly at him.

“You’re the only one who thinks I’m attractive,” she said softly, looking down at her feet.

“You’d be surprised,” he said seriously. Her eyes snapped up at the cryptic comment, but just as she was about to ask him to elaborate, he spoke again. “Will you do it, then?”

“When?” she asked, sighing resignedly. His face lit up like a kid at Christmas.

“Tomorrow night,” he said. She groaned. That left her less than twenty-four hours to figure out a costume and a dance, neither of which would embarrass her in the long run. She nodded, and he gave her a quick squeeze before saying goodbye and practically running from the library she owned. She smacked her head lightly against the bookcase, wondering what she’d gotten herself into this time.

Hermione glanced at the clock. Forty five minutes until the moment of truth. Would she be able to go through with it? Butterflies had begun flying around violently in the pit of her stomach, and she moved to look into the full-length mirror one final time.

She had worked on her appearance all day, and it didn’t look as though it had been totally wasted. She’d managed to find a spell to make her bushy hair relax into springy curls, which she had pinned on the top of her head. Loose tendrils fell around her face. The pins in her hair were strategically placed; she intended on pulling them out later and letting the curls tumble down to her waist.

She chewed nervously on her gloss-covered bottom lip and tasted the watermelon lip gloss Ginny had brought her that morning. Ginny had taken one look at all of the books spread open on Hermione’s bed and laughed; she’d read about everything from makeup to clothing to the Kama Sutra, trying to research her role properly.

“You’re not going to shag the guys, are you?” she teased. “Because if Draco comes back to me smelling of watermelon, you know I’m going to be coming after you.” Hermione laughed at her.

“It’s not Draco I’m interested in.” The words had slipped out before she could stop them, and Ginny arched an eyebrow at her.

“So there is someone there that you want,” she said, her lips curling in a wicked grin. “Do tell.”

“No way,” she said, shaking her head. “Did you bring the stuff?” Ginny nodded and handed her a bag.

“Everything you needed, down to the lip gloss. I’m afraid I have to run… maybe if I wear Draco out this afternoon, he won’t be too pulled to you tonight.” Hermione had blushed and laughed as Ginny disapparated.

She eyed the long velvet gown that she was wearing. The scarlet color really complimented the color of her hair. She was going to start sweating if she didn’t take it off soon; beneath it was a miniskirt in the same color and a black tube top. Beneath that was a set of lacy black underthings. She had balked when she saw them in the bag, but Ginny must have known she would, because she’d left her a note telling her that if she wanted to do this, she should do it all the way.

She wondered if perhaps the no-holds-barred approach might get her into some trouble.

She peered down at her red high heels, then sighed. There was a loud crack from the other room, and she knew Ron had come to fetch her. She poked her head out of the bedroom door to see him standing in the middle of the room, waiting. He turned and smiled at her.

“Ready?” She narrowed her eyes.

“If you laugh, I swear to God, Ron-“

“I won’t laugh,” he promised solemnly. She sighed and left the safety of her bedroom, and his mouth dropped open. The dress was much more chaste than he’d hoped it would be. “You’re going to wear that to dance at a bachelor party in?”

“This is the first outfit I strip off, Ron,” she said, squirming nervously. She stayed nervous until Ron saw the knee-high slit on the side of the dress and got a good look at her creamy leg. The redness creeped up the side of his neck and stopped on his cheeks, and she smiled. He was affected by her demure dress… wait until he sees what’s underneath. She gasped and her hand flew to her mouth.

“You all right?”

“Yes,” she muttered, shaking her head. “I just… I think I might enjoy this, after all.”

Once they had gotten back to Malfoy Manor, the location of the bachelor party, Ron showed Hermione to the room she would dance in. No one was in there yet; he’d told her that the guys had all taken Harry to dinner first, then they were coming back here on the pretense of having some drinks. She nodded and sat behind a curtain, marveling at what fast friends Draco had become with them after the war had ended. None of them would have guessed that his attraction to Ginny would have caused such a change in him. She smiled to herself, then froze when she heard male voices.

Her heart began thumping wildly in her chest, making it painful to breathe. She heard several different voices on the other side of the black velvet curtain that hung in front of her, and she heard Harry laughing. There was Neville’s voice, murmuring something, then she heard Draco and Blaise’s mingled laughter. She closed her eyes and took a deep, steadying breath. Okay. Harry, Ron, Neville, Blaise, and Draco. Five easily handled guys, nothing to get overexcited about. She had just begun calming down when more voices filled the room.

Shit! That’s Fred and George, and Bill, and Charlie, Dean and Seamus… Panic rose in her throat. Had they invited the whole of their ruddy Hogwarts year? Ron poked his head behind the curtain and gave her a thumbs-up. Before she could protest, he was gone, and the voices in the room died.

“I have a surprise for our bachelor tonight,” his voice was heavy with amusement. “A special treat, from one friend to another. Everyone, enjoy the show.” She made a mental note to kill Ron if she ever got out of this thing alive. The music she’d brought with her started up, and the curtain was pulled back before she knew what was happening. The rest of the room was dimly lit, with a bright light shining directly on her. She looked up through the fringe of her lashes and saw several of the Weasley men gasp and stare. For the most part, Draco, Blaise, and Neville didn’t seem to know who she was.

One look at Harry told her that he didn’t, either.

She thanked the powers that be for that small fact; at least now she wouldn’t feel horribly awkward around him until afterwards. She stood from the stool she’d been perched on and walked slowly towards them, swaying her hips to the music as she did so. The goofy grin that was plastered on Harry’s face gave her courage, and she rolled one glove down her arm as slowly as she could. When it was off, she twirled it over her head once, then threw it at Charlie, who blushed furiously when it landed on his lap.

Ron was sitting next to Harry with his hand over his mouth, trying not to laugh.

She turned her back to them and shot a wink at Blaise over her shoulder, biting her lip when he nearly fell off of his chair. She continued to sway gently to the slowly building music as she removed her left glove, then tossed it to Neville. He must have recognized her, because when she blew him a kiss, he jumped in surprise. Ron slapped his shoulder and chuckled a bit. Harry raised his eyebrows at Ron, and Hermione knew that he realized something was going on.

She pulled her stool closer and propped one high-heeled foot on it, then pushed the folds of her dress aside slowly to reveal the milky skin of her slender leg. Someone let out a wolf whistle, and she rewarded them all with a seductive smile. Harry blinked, then looked at Ron again. She kicked the stool away, and just as the music hit its staccato beat, she ripped away the long gown. Gasps went up from the men, and she tossed it to the side, revealing her miniskirt and tube top.

She moved forward until she was a scant four feet away from the first row of boys, then twirled around slowly to the music. She closed her eyes, letting the beat seep into her, and moved automatically. She had practiced enough since yesterday to have her steps memorized. She missed the widening of Harry’s eyes as he caught the scent of her favorite jasmine perfume, and missed the death glare he was shooting a very tipsy Ron. Ron handed him an open beer, which he downed as fast as he could. When she opened her eyes again and saw the looks on their faces, she knew it was time to take the next step.

She danced her way as far away from Harry as she could get, missing the fact that his eyes followed her as though they were glued to her. She bent and continued swaying with the song as she whispered something in Bill’s ear. His cheeks turned scarlet, and she smiled before dancing her way to Charlie, and catching the lobe of his ear gently between her teeth. He shifted uncomfortably in his seat as she moved towards Neville.

Neville had always been attracted to her, and she could see that that hadn’t changed in the six years they’d been out of Hogwarts. He almost looked eager as she lowered herself onto his lap and wrapped her arms around his neck. He said something that made her throw her head back and laugh, and Harry’s eyes narrowed slightly. She gave Neville a chaste kiss on the lips, and stood with a wink. She bent and whispered something in Draco’s ear that made him turn a violent fuchsia color; Ron guessed she’d told him her name. Seamus and Dean were having words over who got her next, but she surprised both of them by doing nothing more than dropping a kiss on each of their cheeks, and chucking beneath their chins with a slender forefinger.

She winked at Blaise and danced in a circle around him before ruffling her fingers in his hair, then turned to the twins. Without reservation, Fred pulled her down onto his lap, and she giggled. If Harry had doubted her identity before, he didn’t now. He’d know that giggle anywhere; he heard it in his sleep. She caressed his cheek, then turned and caressed George the same way before standing and moving in front of a very surprised Ron. She bent and gave him an open mouthed-kiss. Harry laughed as Ron’s arms flailed at his sides, fighting the instinct to reach up and hold her. When she was finished, Harry was somewhat disappointed to see that she was returning to the front of the room without having given him any of her affections.

She turned and shot him a wink that made all of the blood rush from his head. Just when he thought she’d forgotten him, he realized that she’d saved the best for last - for him. She put her hand at the front of her skirt and pulled out on it; with a loud tearing of fabric it fell to the floor, revealing the smallest pair of knickers he’d ever seen in his life. It was hardly more than a triangle of black lace.

His heart very nearly stopped when the tube top was given the same fate as the skirt, and realized that while he had been aware that she was a woman for at least three years now, he had never been as painfully aware as he was at this moment. Her plump breasts were spilling out of the sides of her black bra, and the valley between them seemed to be calling to him. His throat went dry as she moved to stand directly in front of him. With one deft move of her fingers, chestnut curls were swirling down around her shoulders, bouncing with every movement.

Her stomach wasn’t flat, like Larissa’s. It had a slight curve to it that he found nothing less than completely adorable. His eyes traveled up and down the curve of her slender hips and over her exposed navel, and he found himself fighting the urge to dip his tongue into it. He had to maintain his composure. He had to; he was getting married in three days.

She wriggled around in front of him for a few moments, then when the music was ebbing, she straddled his lap and sat down. He didn’t know what he’d been expecting, but when she lowered her lips to his, his mind went totally blank. He lifted his hands and tangled his fingers in her soft curls, tugging gently on them to pull her closer. He touched his tongue to her lips, tasting the sweet fruity gloss she’d covered them with. Before he could deepen the kiss properly, though, the music had ended and she had backed away from him, shooting everyone a timid smile. She went about gathering her things, but Ron stopped her by whispering in her ear.

Harry’s view of her was suddenly obfuscated as the men present stood and surrounded her. A sharp wave of annoyance went through him, and he frowned. It was his bachelor party, after all; hadn’t she been recruited to entertain him? He stood just in time to see Blaise leaning over to plant a wet kiss on the side of her neck, and she turned surprised eyes to him. He smiled and handed her a shot glass, then whispered something in her ear that made her blush. She bit her bottom lip, which Harry knew meant she was debating on whether or not she should drink it. In the end, she downed the glass and made a face, which all of the men laughed at.

“How did you like it?” Ron asked quietly, appearing at his side. Harry glared at him.

“Ron, you know how I feel about Hermione,” he hissed. “How could you convince her to come here and do- that, when you know I’ve been attracted to her for so long? Do you have any idea what kind of fire you’re playing with here?” He was quiet for a long moment, watching as Hermione downed two more shots. “How in the bloody hell did you manage to get her to agree to this, anyway?”

“Told her that one of the blokes here might ask her out if she did it,” he said calmly, ignoring the piercing glare that he knew he was getting from Harry. He took a sip of his beer. “She’s lonely, Harry. She needs someone in her life to make her happy. Since you didn’t want to volunteer for the job, I took matters into my own hands. Looks like Zabini’s quite taken with her. I think it’s working.”

“Ron, I am bloody well getting married in three days! How can you do this to me now?”

“Do you love Liss, Harry?”

“Of course I do.”

“Then marry her.”

“I intend to.”

“Do it, then. But can you tell me that when you leave this room tonight, every time you close your eyes, you won’t see Hermione dancing for you, or feel her lips on yours? Will you be able to get together for dinners and see another man hanging all over what could have been yours, if you had just had the bollocks to say the word?” Harry sputtered at him. “I didn’t think so.”

“Where did you learn how to dance like that, Hermione?” Draco asked appreciatively. She blushed.

“You wouldn’t believe me if I told you.” He arched an eyebrow.

“Please, please, make my day and tell me Ginny taught you.” She laughed.

“She told me some things to do, yeah.” His cheeks turned pink.

“Wench is holding out on me,” he muttered. He excused himself from the room, and Hermione bit her bottom lip, knowing that Ginny would find no peace from him tonight. She giggled.

“What’s so funny about him leaving?” a deep baritone voice asked. She shivered before turning and meeting Harry’s emerald eyes with her own.

“I just know who he’s going to look for,” she said, giggling again. Blaise reappeared at her side and handed her another shot, which she downed quickly. Harry frowned, and she excused herself quickly when Fred asked her to dance. He watched as she pressed her body to his, the alcohol making her forget that she was nearly naked as she danced with a man who was practically her brother.

“Hey, Potter, you have better taste than I thought,” Blaise said, smiling broadly. Harry blinked. “I would never have dreamed in a million years that bookworm Granger had a body like that.” His eyes raked over her appreciatively, and Harry’s jaw clenched. He forced a smile.

“I didn’t get her to do this, Ron did.”

“Remind me to thank him later,” he said, his eyes still on Hermione. “Is she dating anyone?”

Harry bristled visibly, and Ron exchanged a knowing look with Bill. Unbeknownst to Harry, Bill had guessed long ago that he had feelings for Hermione.

“No.” He bit the word out. Blaise nodded.

“Excellent.” He sat the empty shot glass on the bar and tapped Hermione’s shoulder, interrupting her dance with Fred. Harry was relieved to see that she shook her head and continued dancing with the redhead, who was grinning from ear to ear. Blaise returned to the seat where Harry was and sat beside him.

“She shoot you down?” he asked, fighting to mask the amusement he felt.

“Nah. Just said she had to finish dancing with him before she’ll dance with me.” Harry frowned again, and the slow song faded into another. Before Blaise could collect on his dance, Ron had grabbed Harry’s arm and ushered him to Hermione.

“Since you’re the guest of honor, Harry, you have the privilege of the next dance!” Before Harry could object, Ron took off and tried to divert Blaise’s attention. Seeing the lustful look on Blaise’s face was enough to make Harry wrap his arms protectively around Hermione and begin swaying. She sighed and rested her head against his chest, and he knew that she must be feeling tipsy.

She’s only doing it because she’s comfortable with me. I’m her friend. It doesn’t mean anything.

“I never knew that stripping would get me so many dates,” she said, giggling. He stiffened.

“What?”

“I’ve already got four dates lined up this week,” she said, looking up at him with glassy eyes. “Neville, Fred, Seamus, and Charlie.” He glared around at each of the men in question. Neville and Seamus had the good grace to look embarrassed, while the Weasleys ignored him.

“And you’re going to go out with them when you know they only asked you out now that you’ve taken all of your clothes off for them?” he asked indignantly. Her eyes flashed dangerously.

“Don’t you lecture me, Harry Potter,” she said scathingly. “I’m not you. People don’t ask me out because I have eyes the color of the grass in spring, or because my hair always looks as though I’ve just gotten off of a broom, or because I can make people laugh even when they’re sad, or…” her voice trailed off at the look he was giving her. “What?” she asked defensively.

They had stopped dancing.

Ron took this as his cue to shoo everyone out of the room, with promises of buying them a round at Rosmerta’s. “I don’t want to be the one responsible for depleting Malfoy’s supply of alcohol,” he insisted. “Too effing expensive to be replaced.”

“What?” she repeated, pulling away from him, and putting her hands on her hips. Her chest was heaving erratically, drawing his eyes to it like a magnet.

“You just said-“

“I just said that people don’t ask me out because I’m not aes-“ her tongue was too thick for the word. “Aes… aest… oh, sod it. Because I’m not pretty!” He blinked in surprise.

“You’re beautiful.” She snorted derisively as she began scooping her things up off of the floor, despite the fact that they were torn beyond repair.

“And you haven’t had any alcohol, right, Harry?” her voice was sarcastic, and it made him wince. “I hope you enjoyed your bachelor party. Tell Ron I’ll thank him later.” She shoved him out of the way and made her way to the fireplace in the hall, where she disappeared into the green flames.

Harry stared after her, knowing that he was going to have to have a talk with Liss – one that he was not looking forward to.

“Gin, are you in here?” Draco called through the door. He heard some muffled noises from inside the room.

“Yeah, come on in.” He pushed the door open and took a step inside, then froze. A slow grin made its way across his face as he took in the lit candles and his fiancée standing before him in a lush, green robe. He closed the door behind him an arched an eyebrow at her.

“Why, Ginny Weasley,” he said, with mock surprise. “If I didn’t know better, I’d almost think you expected me to come and find you with the sole intention of ravishing you.”

“Well, yeah, but I didn’t think you’d leave the party to do it,” she said, grinning. He laughed and moved towards her, but she held up a hand to stop him. She reached up and unfastened the clasp of her robe and let it fall to the floor. He sucked in a deep breath.

She was wearing a set of lingerie that looked just like what she’d given Hermione, except that they were in an emerald green color. His eyes darkened, and she beckoned to him with her outstretched arms.

He moved forward and pressed his lips to hers, fusing them together. His hands slid down her back and cupped her mostly exposed bottom, kneading it gently. A soft moan escaped her lips as he trailed his lips across her jawline and up to her ear, where his warm breath sent shivers down her spine.

“You’ve been a very naughty girl, Ginny,” he murmured. “You had to know that once I smelled that lip gloss, I would think of you.” She smiled to herself. He was right; she’d been planning on the fact that he would recognize it. It was her favorite lip gloss, and he’d even bought it for her, on more than one occasion.

His tongue touched her ear, and she gasped. Tender kisses rained down on her throat, and his tongue darted out to taste the salty flesh. Her hands gripped his shoulders as he slid one hand up to cup a breast. She tilted her head back and arched herself against him.

He pulled away from her long enough to pull his shirt over his head, kick his socks and shoes off, and let his slacks fall to the floor. Clad only in their underthings, they moved towards the bed. He pushed her back gently and kissed her throat, then grazed his teeth along her collarbone. He lifted a hand to caress her breast through the flimsy fabric of her bra, letting the pad of his thumb swipe over her hardened nipple. He lowered his head to lick her through the bra.

His hand drifted lower, until it reached the dampened fabric of her knickers. Feathery touches from her fingertips traced patterns on the bare skin of his back. Pushing aside the satiny material, he slid his thumb across her fleshy bud, and she moaned his name. He reached up and grabbed the elastic waistband, and she lifted her hips enough for him to pull them off of her.

He pushed his boxers down over his hips, then squirmed to get them off. Without waiting for him to continue the gentle ministrations of his mouth, Ginny reached down and curled her fingers around his thickness, then guided it inside of her. She gasped and arched her back towards him, and he bit down gently on her shoulder. He began moving his hips back and forth gently, rocking from side to side; teasing her.

She wrapped her legs around his waist and forced him deeper, eliciting a groan from him. His movements became more rapid, until he was thrusting recklessly. She tensed beneath him. Moments later, he could feel the combined fluids of their satisfaction around his sated sex. He collapsed onto her, breathing heavily. Her fingers continued to stroke his back lightly, and he shivered.

“You evil wench,” he laughed finally. “You knew you could get me away from that Bachelor party tonight, didn’t you?” She giggled.

“Yes.” There was a slight pause. “How did Harry react to Hermione?” he propped his chin up on his fist, and he stared at her.

“I think it took him a few minutes to realize it was her, but he knew before I did, at any rate. He was none too happy when she started sitting on laps and passing out kisses.” Ginny’s eyes widened slightly.

“She what?”

“Should have seen the one she planted on Ron,” he chuckled. “Tongue and everything. I don’t think Potter liked it at all.”

“Good,” she sniffed, playing with his tousled hair. “Maybe now he’ll see what’s going on and ask her out.”

“Gin,” he said, closing his eyes to relish the feel of her hands in his hair. “Potter’s blind enough in his own glasses. Trying to get him to see through beer goggles isn’t going to help things.”

“What did you do?” she asked suspiciously. He grinned.

“I set Zabini on her.” She groaned.

“Merlin, Draco! Harry will kill him if he lays a finger on her!”

“And your point is?”

“My point is that you’re the evil one here, not me.”

“Don’t I know it,” he whispered, reaching up to kiss her gently. “Now why don’t I show you just how evil I can be.”

Hermione stormed around her flat, gathering things with the intent of taking a bath. She threw her ripped clothes onto the couch carelessly, then moved into the hallway, headed towards her room. She went into her bedroom and rummaged quickly through her dresser drawers, pulling out a pair of white cotton knickers and her satiny pyjamas. She stomped back to the bathroom and pulled the black lacy set off of her body, throwing them in the farthest corner of the bathroom, then turned the hot water on.

She didn’t hear the loud crack that signaled someone’s apparition in the other room.

Pink bubbles filled the tub, and she flung off her heels before lowering herself into the scented water. She turned off the tap with her toes and closed her eyes, letting herself relax. Who the hell did Harry think he was, telling her that she was only getting date offers because she’d taken her clothes off? She exhaled slowly and rubbed her neck with her hands.

She just knew she was going to have a migraine by the time she got to bed.

Harry tiptoed through Hermione’s flat, taking in the disarray of the clothes she’d dumped in the sitting room. He called out once, but she didn’t answer. He heard the sound of water running, and moved into the hallway, heading towards her bathroom. He was going to knock when he realized that the door was open a crack, and his curiosity got the better of him. He peeked inside.

It didn’t occur to him that the salt he was tasting in his mouth was the result of biting down too hard on his lip.

She peeled the black undergarments off and cast them aside, then slipped into the tub. He watched her close her eyes, then pushed the door open and stepped inside the steamy bathroom.

“What does he care if I get drunk and decide to shag the lot of them?” she asked herself out loud. He sputtered angrily.

“I care because I don’t want you to! That’s not something you’d do in a non-alcohol induced state!” She screamed and sunk lower in the tub as her eyes sought his out above the sea of bubbles.

“Harry! Merlin, you scared me to death! What are you doing, sneaking up on me like that?” She demanded, glaring at him.

“Well, it’s not exactly like you gave me a chance to talk to you back at the Manor, now, is it?”

“You’d better go,” she said, massaging her neck again. “Larissa will have a fit if she finds you here, and with me in a tub, no less.” He rolled his eyes and motioned for her to turn around.

“Let me do that, you’re not doing it right,” he huffed. She shot him a nasty look as she moved so that her back was against the side of the tub where he was standing. He knelt down and pushed her hair out of the way, then began rubbing her neck, pressing hard with his thumbs.

“That feels nice,” she murmured, letting her head drop forward. His stomach was doing violent flips. He’d never touched her like this before, and it was turning him on beyond all belief. His hands slipped around on the slick skin as he massaged, and if she kept making those little satisfied mewling noises, he was going to have no self-control left.

“Thanks for tonight,” he whispered. She shrugged noncommittally, and he sighed. She wasn’t going to make his apology easy.

“Ron said it’d make you feel more comfortable if it was someone you knew. I told him it would be the opposite, and that you’d be uncomfortable because you didn’t even realize I was a –“ she stopped herself, and his hands stopped along with her.

“I didn’t realize you were a what?”

“A girl,” she said, feeling the heat rise in her cheeks. His jaw dropped, but he continued to massage her, not realizing that his hands had dropped to her shoulders. She shivered as his fingers slid along her collarbone.

“Hermione, that is the most ridiculous thing I’ve ever heard. Of course I know you’re a girl! What the hell else would you be?”

“You’re just saying that to try and make me feel better,” she said, shaking her head. “You’re right, Harry. They only asked me out tonight because it took me stripping to make them see that I was a real, live woman. Otherwise they never would have given me a second look.” The sad note in her voice made him feel as though she was ripping his heart out.

“Mione,” he chided gently, his fingers continuing their movement around her neck and shoulders. “It’s not their fault that they’ve come to respect your brain and forgotten to look at your body. Your brain is pretty intimidating, you know.” She let out a small laugh.

“You’ve never been intimidated by me,” she pointed out.

“Yes I have,” he said, admiring the way that the water made her skin glisten in the dim light of the bathroom.

“Great,” she muttered. “So you’re telling me that all guys want airheads? Pretty women who are empty shells and can’t think for themselves?”

“Not all guys,” he said reasonably. “Not me, anyway.” She turned to look at him, and his stomach bottomed out. Her hazel eyes had the smallest flecks of green in them.

“What exactly do you think Larissa is, Harry?” she asked, her voice oozing with contempt. He blinked in surprise.

“Don’t you like Liss?”

“No, I don’t,” she admitted.

“Why not?”

“Because she-“ she bit her tongue gently to keep from blurting out that she didn’t like the girl for the simple fact that Harry did. “I just don’t, okay?” Her chin dropped.

“Hey,” he said, putting his index finger under her chin and forcing it up gently. “Did she say something to you? Has she done something?” his jade eyes were burning into hers, and she shook her head.

“No, Harry, she hasn’t done anything. I promise.” She sighed, and Harry’s finger trailed down her chin, down her throat, and traced her collarbone lightly. She gasped and went rigid, her breathing turning ragged. “What are you doing, Harry?”

“I don’t know,” he said throatily. “Do you want me to stop?”

“You should stop. Larissa,” she choked out. His finger continued to trail across the slick skin of her shoulders, and she shivered. “You’re getting married, remember?”

“No, I’m not,” he said softly, leaning forward to press his lips against her moistened shoulder. She gasped as his tongue flicked out and licked the droplets off of her skin.

“You’re n-not?” she stammered, closing her eyes. He kissed her neck just below her ear.

“No,” he whispered, pulling away to meet her eyes. He lifted his hands up to cup her cheeks, and her eyes flew open. “I called the wedding off.”

“Why?” she asked breathlessly.

“I didn’t love her.”

“What? Why did you ask her to marry you, then?” She tried to ignore the sensation of his thumbs brushing her cheeks gently.

“Because I thought that the person I was really in love with only looked at me as a guy she knew.” She frowned.

“Why would anyone who knows you look at you that way? You’re smart, you’re funny, you’re attractive,” she blushed, but maintained eye contact. She was slightly surprised when he gave her an impish grin. “What?”

“So all this time, you’ve thought that I didn’t really see you as a girl, and I’ve thought that you really didn’t see me as a guy.” She blinked, and he watched with amusement as his words settled in. Her mouth formed a small o of surprise.

“You mean-“

“For years now,” he admitted, nodding. She swallowed hard and tried not to cry. He grinned wider. “You?”

“Years,” she conceded, lowering her eyelids a bit. She chewed on her bottom lip, then took a deep breath. “Harry?”

“Hmm?”

“Is that why you yelled at me for accepting those dates?” his cheeks turned pink, and he nodded.

“Yes. Why didn’t you tell me that you wanted me, before I got involved with Liss? You would have saved me a lot of trouble and money.”

“I didn’t think you’d want that kind of attention from me,” she said.

“The hell I wouldn’t,” he asserted. She blushed deeper. “But now the question remains that, after having seen the effect you have on guys, do you want that kind of attention from me?”

“I only had that effect because they had alcohol to help them forget it was me in those underthings,” she said quietly. “Harry, you know that I’ll never be like Larissa. I’m not pretty, so I’d never make a good partner to present to your adoring public. I’m not stupid, and I’m not going to pretend to be. I don’t even wear makeup that-“ she was cut off when his mouth covered hers in a demanding kiss. A small whimper escaped her throat as his tongue pried her lips apart and began exploring her mouth.

His hands moved into her hair, where he held her to prevent her from moving away from him. Wet fingers emerged from the water to clutch his shoulders, eliciting a shiver from him. His tongue slid across hers, engaging it in an erotic dance. She pulled away slightly and stared breathlessly at him, her pulse racing in her ears.

“Get in,” she said softly. He raised his eyebrows but said nothing as he stood and began to shed his clothes. She closed her eyes when he slipped his boxers off and stepped into the tub, then reopened them when she felt his movements in the water. He grinned at her.

“You know this is going to make me smell all girly,” he laughed. She grinned, feeling some of her tension melt away at his amusement. How was it that he always seemed to know what to say to help her relax?

“Hm, so in other words, you’re saying that you’ll actually smell good for once.” He looked surprised at her jest, then chuckled and poked her side beneath the surface of the water. She squealed. “That’s not very nice!”

“Neither was your smelling comment,” he said, his eyes sparkling. Her smile faded as he moved closer, and a thrill went through her when his fingertips brushed the side of a breast. His eyes became dark, and he looked up at her. “If you want to stop, now is the time to tell me.”

“I wouldn’t have asked you in here if I hadn’t wanted-“

“You didn’t ask,” he said, a trace of laughter in his voice. “You told me to.” She bit her bottom lip as his hands moved behind her back and pulled her closer. The heat of his mouth seared her neck, and she tilted her head back to give him better access. His tongue traced circles on her skin as one of his hands moved up to cup a breast. She gasped when his thumb brushed across her nipple, and he uttered a soft moan when she arched her back to press closer to him.

His other hand followed the outline of her hips, then brushed against her outer thigh. A small noise of surprise escaped her lips, and he smiled against her skin before lifting a nipple to his lips. Her fingernails dug into his shoulders as he laved one nipple thoroughly with his tongue, then moved to the other. Tears stung her eyes; the way he was touching her – it was almost reverent.

His fingertips danced across the flesh of her outer thighs, and she shivered. When his hand stopped briefly on her stomach and he pressed him palm to it, she opened her eyes. Butterflies invaded her stomach at the look he was giving her. That sparkle was still in his eyes as he flashed his sexy smile at her, and she was glad that they were sitting down – if they had been standing, she was sure that her knees would have given way beneath her.

“Why are you touching my fat belly?” she asked, half-teasing, and half-not. He looked stricken.

“Fat?” he echoed incredulously. She nodded. “Hermione, in no way whatsoever is your belly fat. You are gorgeous, every bit of you.” She blushed under his high praise.

“Harry, really.”

“Really,” he murmured, his hand stroking the smooth skin of her abdomen. “I love your body almost as much as I love your mind.”

The tears started flowing freely, and he wrapped her in his arms.

“I never thought to hear a man say he loved my mind,” she laughed through her tears. He kissed her cheeks, then her forehead, then the tip of her nose.

“What’s not to love about you, Mione?” his thumbs stroked her lower back gently, moving in small circles. “You’re everything any man could ever want, all rolled into one devastatingly cute package.” She giggled.

“Flatterer.”

“I mean it,” he said, his fingers sliding down to knead the supple skin of her bum. She gripped his arms tighter.

“Harry, please,” she said quietly, closing her eyes and leaning towards him. His arms tightened around her, and he positioned her so she was straddling him. He gave one last look at her, as if to give her a last chance to back out.

Her response was to slide down on top of him.

He groaned and hit his forehead lightly against her shoulder. She bit her bottom lip as she reveled in the feel of him; he made her feel full and beautiful and … whole. He began moving slowly, his hands gripping her hips and guiding her up and down along his length.

“Harry,” she breathed. His mouth found hers and captured it in a bruising kiss. His thrusts became more urgent, and she could feel the delicious tension building inside her body. The deeper he went, the more intense the sensations in her body became, until she was sure that she would explode if she didn’t find release soon.

She felt his release first as his warmth spilled out inside of her. It seemed that that had been the signal her body had been waiting for, and suddenly the tension that had been building burst and spread a blinding warmth to every limb; behind her closed eyes, she saw stars.

When his breathing had returned to its normal rhythm, he dropped a light kiss on her cheek. Her eyes flew open, and she smiled almost shyly.

“That was, without a doubt, the best experience of my life,” he said, grinning. She laughed.

“It was pretty good, wasn’t it?” he nodded vigorously, and she moved away from him. He made a noise of protest, but she ignored him and climbed out of the tub. He watched appreciatively as she wrapped a fluffy towel around her body, then turned to face him. He stood and stepped out, and she handed him a towel.

“Mione,” he said, the towel hanging loosely around his hips.

“Yes, Harry?”

“I love you.” Her lower lip began to tremble, and she stared at him in surprise. He shifted uncomfortably. “You know, it’d really make me feel a lot less like a prat if you said that back to me.”

“Of course I love you, Harry!” she cried, launching herself at him. She threw her arms around his neck and squeezed. “I thought you knew that! I love you!” she peppered his face with tiny kisses that made him laugh.

“Need air,” he gasped. She blushed and loosened her grasp on him, but didn’t let go. He wrapped his arms around her waist and smiled at her. “Now, what do I have to do to get you to dance for me again?”