[Fic]: Harry Potter and the Pet Fiancée, Part Three of Three (22,200 words total)

[ap_aelfwine]

Hermione's little kiss on his ear brought him back to the present. "Yes. Millie and Daphne say that folk have been gossiping for years about how much alike to each other Draco's parents look, and whispering that Mr. Malfoy's father and Mrs. Malfoy's mother both had reputations for unfaithfulness. But we weren't raised like that, were we?" She giggled. Harry didn't think he'd heard Hermione giggle during First Year. He'd always associated giggling with girls like Parvati and Lavender who, although they were never really mean to anybody, also never seemed to be serious about anything.

He wasn't entirely sure why she giggled now, sometimes, when they were alone together, but he liked to hear it. Then again, he liked all the sounds that Hermione made, from the way she'd hum a little tune under her breath when she was thinking very intently to her soft breathing when she snuggled up against his chest and fell asleep. Even Hermione's yawns and sneezes were beautiful.


"Err, no. Although I'm not sure I was really raised at all, to be honest. I know the Dursleys must have taught me to walk and talk and all of that, since I was only an infant of fifteen months when I was left with them and I couldn't have already known, but most everything I remember is being told to do chores, and then working out on my own how to do what they were telling me so I'd not be locked in the cupboard for a day with no food."

"Oh, Harry. I'm so sorry."

"It's all right. Professor Dumbledore says I'm never going back there now that I've got you to take care of, and Professor McGonagall says we can live with her during the summer if we can't get into any of my family's houses yet."

"Still, I'm sorry you had to go through that, even if it does give us another thing in common, sort of. I wasn't so much raised as conditioned, myself. I was handed over to child minders and aux pairs as soon as I was old enough not to be nursing any more, although I'll grant that my mother did nurse me until I reached the age when all the best experts said I should be weaned. She'd read too many studies which said formula feeding lowered children's IQs, you see. She made a complete review of the literature on infant and child development as soon as they decided they were at a point in their careers when it was reasonable for her to be pregnant, and she was determined that everything would be perfectly correct. And before you excuse Dadd... my male parent, he agreed with her."

Harry could hear the little sob in her voice, and he squeezed her closer to him. "There was a book I read when I was maybe eight, when I was hiding from Dudley in the library. It was called Mrs. Frisby and the Rats of NIMH, and it was about these rats who'd learnt to read and build things after some scientists did experiments on them. It sounds as if they treated you something like how the rats in the story were treated in the lab, before they escaped and went to build their own home."

Hermione nuzzled him. "Oh, I loved that book! In fact, it was one of the first stories I discovered that I had to hide so I'd not be lectured for wasting my time on 'fantasy and non-realistic trash.' And I do suppose I could have had it worse, in many ways. My parents made sure that everyone hired to mind me read appropriate books to me and that there was classical music on the radio. They even did random stops by the house during their work hours, to be sure I was never left to sit in front of the television. And my father made flashcards so they could quiz me on my maths and my science facts. No point in raising a daughter who'd only be good enough for the local comprehensive, after all. Or one who'd want to attend some silly girls' school that was only there to introduce the pupils to boys from Eton or Rugby."

He planted a light kiss just above her ear. "I'm sorry you had to go through that, Hermione."

"It's all right. We've got each other now."

"We do. And, someday, when we... well, if we..."

"When we have children, Harry?"

"Yes. I'm sorry if..."

"No, it's good. I'd like for us to have children, someday, when we're grown up. We'll raise them, won't we? We know all about two wrong ways of doing it, so at least we'll have some idea of what we shouldn't do. We'll love them and we'll be kind to them. We'll teach them all sorts of things, but they'll always know that we love them for being them and not only for how quickly they can recite their times tables and their principles of transfiguration."

He kissed her again, enjoying the scent of her hair. "Or for how quickly they can catch the Snitch, either. And someday you will be Mrs. Potter, just like Professor Snape said. I asked Professor Dumbledore, and he says that when we're adults and I've come into my full rights as Head of House Potter I'll be able to make you a Vassal of the House and marry you. That is, if you'd like me to marry you."

"Oh, Harry, of course. But you do know I'll still want to call you my master, sometimes? Just because I like to."

"As long as you'll still let me call you my pet?"

"Of course. You know, Master, I've been doing some reading in the library, and in a couple of books that Professor McGonagall gave me as well, and I think I've worked out why this happened to us."

"Really?" Part of Harry almost hoped his Hermione might have figured out a way to undo it, so they could just be a fiancé and fiancée who didn't need a leash and a collar, or even simple ordinary best and dearest friends until they reached the age when other people started dating. Another part of him couldn't imagine anything worse.

"It's because it was you and because it was me and because deep inside of us we knew what we needed, and our magic took that need and ran with it. Maybe it even happened because I already did belong to you in some way, and had since last year, even if the school records didn't show it. If somehow you hadn't been able to be there, and it had been Ron, say--"

Harry didn't intend to growl like a wolf or a bear or an old Pagan warrior in one of the Rosemary Sutcliffe books Miss Haynie, his Year Four teacher at Saint Grogory's School, had quietly lent him and helped him to hide from his relatives and the teachers who listened to them. When he first heard the sound, he thought it might be a vibration that was carrying through the castle walls, perhaps caused by something Peeves was doing upstairs or the Giant Squid moving rocks about on the lake bed to give itself a more comfortable place to sleep in. After a few seconds, he realised it was coming from low down deep in his own throat. "Sorry."

Hermione raised her head up to look at him. She was smiling brightly. "Don't be sorry, my Harry, my master, my love. I'm happy that you feel that way. Because I agree. Belonging to Ron, or to anyone other than you, would be Hell on Earth. But if it had been Ron there in the train compartment, making a promise to care for me, as unlikely as that even sounds to begin with, I would have become his sister. Because that's what Ron and I are to each other, and that's all we ever could be to each other. But because it was you... Well, eventually, in one way or another, I would have belonged to you, even if neither of us would ever have phrased it exactly that way."

"And I would have belonged to you. Because I do. You do know that, right, Hermione? I belong to you every bit as much as you belong to me, my darling pet. You might be the one wearing the collar, but it binds me just as much as it binds you, just as much as if you'd put one on me."

Hermione's eyes glittered with unshed tears, although she smiled even more brightly than he'd ever seen her smile before. "Of course. You're my master, my very own Master Harry." They kissed again, on the lips, a kiss that felt as if it lasted for hours.

Even after they broke the kiss they stood where they were, holding each other in comfortable silence. But at last, Hermione whispered “Sweetest Master-mine, we'd really better go to lunch. It wouldn't do for Hannah and Susan to kidnap and interrogate Professor Snape after he's been so kind to us, would it? I'm sure they'll believe Millie and Daphne, but if we take too long, the four of them might get nervous and decide to make absolutely sure.”

Harry laughed. “They wouldn't really hurt him, would they? They're such nice people.”

Hermione giggled. “They're terribly fond of you, Harry. And Susan's aunt Amelia has taught her all sorts of things. They'd not hold back.”

“Well, we can't have that. If you're ready, my most darling pet?”

“If you are, my most darling master, I am.”

“I am.” They squeezed each other one more time and left the alcove. Harry offered Hermione his arm. She took it and, had it not been for the leash that Harry kept looped round his forefinger, they might have been any Hogwarts couple, notable only for their age; even those in arranged matches who cared for each other, such as Hannah and her betrothed, Neville Longbottom, who spent the better part of their summers together, typically didn't show affection in public until sometime in their Fourth or Fifth Year.

They were halfway to the Great Hall when a blonde girl, tiny even compared to the other First Years and wearing her Ravenclaw tie in a complex knot that might have involved one or more minor violations of the laws of physics, settled into step with them. “Good afternoon, Harry's Hermione and Hermione's Harry. May a fortunate star shine on our meeting.”

If anyone else had used such a greeting, Harry would have been sure they were making a joke. But Luna simply said things like that. It was charming, really, now he'd got used to it. He suspected the Hermione of First Year might have thought her disturbingly random, if not annoying and absurd, but he knew that the real Hermione, the Hermione who no longer worried about her parents' notions of what was right and proper and rational any more than Harry worried about the Dursleys' way of looking at things, his Hermione, she liked their friend Luna every bit as much as he did. “Good afternoon, Luna of the Lovegood people,” she said. “Have the Nargles told you anything interesting since last night?”

“The Nargles haven't said a single thing, but that's just as well considering they aren't very reliable right now. There's an 'r' in the month, it's not a Leap Year, and the Moon's not waxing gibbous, so they're constitutionally unable to tell the truth, although once in a while on a day like today they might say something clearly enough that I can know they're telling me the exact opposite of what their words and images say, which works just as well as long as you know it's the case. But I don't need to rely on Nargles right now, because I can see that your auras are glowing in a simply lovely shade. Did something good happen?”

Hermione smiled and patted the younger girl's shoulder. “Something very, very good happened on the Express, Luna, and since then most of what's happened has been pretty all right. It's... well, it's nice to have friends.”

"It is nice. I never really had friends before, except for Ginevra. And maybe Ronald, but he mostly used to be a bit mean to us so I'm not sure if he counted, exactly. He's become a great deal better this year, and I don't know if it's Hogwarts or just growing up or if Madam Pomfrey finally did something to moderate and control the Wrackspurts that have infested him since we were little. But I don't think that's likely, because they were very active last summer after he came home from your First Year. Why would she have waited until this year to deal with them if she were able to deal with them at all?"

Harry couldn't help smiling. Luna was endearing, and the friendship between her and his Hermione was a lovely thing to see. "I don't know, either, Luna, but he has been acting better. He's my best mate, of course, but there were a lot of times when he was a bit of a git last year, really."

"Tell me about it. Then again, it all came out right in the end, so I can't complain too much." Hermione kissed Harry on the cheek. She wouldn't have done that in front of just anyone, he knew, but Luna was the only person in sight. Luna smiled as if she understood the significance of the gesture, also.

He kissed Hermione's cheek. "So it did. And I think Lavender's a good influence on him." Their friends weren't actually a couple, of course, but Hermione thought Lavender was thinking they were headed that way in a few years and was doing her best to get Ron trained up before it became official, and Harry trusted his Hermione's judgement. A few weeks prior, Lavender had said she might ask him to give whomever she ended up stepping out with a few lessons on how to be a proper boyfriend. The memory still made him blush, although he knew it was a great honour that she not only felt that way, but trusted him enough to tell him.

"Yes, Harry. Our red-headed brother's growing up. But actually I think you're the one who's had the most influence on him."

"Me? Really?"

Luna laughed. "I overheard Ronald telling Dean Thomas that he was glad at least one of his sisters had got with a decent bloke, so he only had Ginevra to worry about. It was most amusing. Although I do hope he'll not try to set up Ginevra with Harry in the same fashion. That would be rather awkward, I think."

Harry didn't know what to say to that. He looked at Hermione, who gave him a little smile and a wink. He supposed that meant she didn't mind Luna's joke. "Err... I suppose you're right, Luna."

"Ginevra always did say she wanted to marry Harry Potter, and the three of you would look simply adorable together, in wedding robes or in any other costume whatsoever, including the prelapsarian dress, but I'd rather my first friend didn't get attacked by a troll. She has been a little bit distant, lately, but I still care for her and I miss her and I wish her well and I do hope she'll remember me once she's got over the distractions of being here at Hogwarts and all the new friends she must have made in the Gryffindor girls' dorm."

Hermione made a little interrogative noise. Harry was completely lost, but he supposed this might be something that made sense to her simply by virtue of being a girl. He hoped she'd explain it to him later, because Luna sounded terribly sad when she talked about Ginny. She was his friend and he wanted her to be happy. If there were anything they could do to help her, he'd like to know about it.

"For that matter," Luna said, "I've heard plenty of stories about troll hunting from my Daddy and my grandmother and my aunts, and I really don't want to experience them for myself, at least not right now. Especially since the Headmaster wouldn't let me bring my Holland and Holland to school, and it doesn't sound as if anything less than .500 Nitro Express is adequate for troll. I know there are folk who swear by .450 Nitro Express and .425 Westley-Richards, and at least one individual, whom I think even more dubious than our Defence instructor, claims to have taken a trophy-grade troll using an unmodified Short Model Lee-Enfield loaded with ordinary surplus Mark VII .303 ammunition, but my grandmother said she'd never seen anybody killed by dangerous game as a result of having too much gun, and in her day she was the most successful Nundu hunter south of the Zambezi River, so I'm inclined to trust her judgement."

Harry really didn't know what to say to that. Was Luna actually talking about guns? He'd not thought that anybody in the modern Wizarding World used firearms, but he recognised those names from some of the books he'd read in the Little Whinging library when he was hiding in the stacks. They were all Muggle rifle cartridges, most of them meant for shooting big bullets at dangerous animals, except for the .303 which was what the Army had used in both World Wars.

This was only the second reference to a firearm he'd heard at Hogwarts. Professor Binns liked to spend entire lessons on blow-by-blow accounts of individual battles during the various Goblin rebellions, which were sometimes interesting if you could ignore the monotonous droning sound of the professor's voice and stay awake enough to follow the story. On one of the days when Harry had managed that feat, Binns had told them about a siege of the old Ministry building. In the course of the fight, Edmund the Erratic had slain several Goblin warriors using "that clumsy Muggle contrivance called an hark-a-buss or a gonne, which throws a leaden ball in size between a Gobstone and a Snitch, making a loud noise and a great cloud of sulphur-stinking smoke."

Harry had read a lot of books about the Middle Ages and the Renaissance which his cousin had abandoned once he'd finished drawing a moustache on every picture of a person who hadn't already got one and scribbling every swear he knew in the margins so he could practice being a 'tagger,' whatever that was. That was what Dudley always did with the books he was given by his mother and aunt so they could show off how clever their little Dudders was. Fortunately, Dudley cared so little for words on paper that he never raised a fuss if Harry read the books once the scrawling was done, so it wasn't such a bad deal in the end. Because of that reading, Harry knew that a harquebus was an especially early sort of musket, which was what they called the guns soldiers had fought with before they had rifles, and that "gonne" was just an old-fashioned spelling of the word "gun," but he'd reckoned Edmund the Erratic was the only Wizard who'd ever used a Muggle firearm.

After all, Edmund the Erratic had also married a big-eyed purple talking pony named Eventide Glistnen who'd appeared in Suffolk in the summer of 1512. She'd claimed to have accidentally walked through a magical portal in an ancient temple in her own world, which was allegedly a place where ponies were the dominant species and there were no humans at all. The unlikely couple had made their home in a giant snail shell on wheels which they moved back and forth between Devon and Yorkshire every four months using levitation charms and a team of flying oxen. Both Reginald Charterhouse's Famous Wizards of British History and Jerusalem Cosgrove's A Genuine Relation of the Lives and Actions of Numerous Magical Heroes, Villains, and Memorable Characters agreed that only Uric the Oddball's pet Augureys had stopped Edmund being unanimously awarded the title of "maddest British Wizard ever," and if Uric had kept any fewer than fifty of the ominous birds Edmund might have won out. Even if he'd done one thing that worked well, nobody else in the Wizarding world would've dared to follow his example in any way.

Hermione's mouth was almost agape. "Luna? You have your own elephant gun?"

"Some people would call my double rifle that, yes, but I don't intend I'll ever shoot an elephant with her. Elephants are perfectly charming creatures, at least most of them, at least most of the time, and my grandmother made me promise never to shoot one unless I had no other choice. Not that she needed to make me, really, as I've had some very lovely conversations with elephants. To be altogether honest, I have to say that in proportion I've met far more disagreeable witches and wizards than I have disagreeable elephants."

Hermione managed a smile. "I'm glad to hear that, Luna, because they're endangered and even if they weren't I've always thought they were beautiful. But I didn't think that somebody our age could fire a double rifle at all, unless maybe it were locked down on a bench or something. They weigh so much, and some of the books I've read said many grown men weren't strong enough to handle the recoil."

"I expect that's true for Muggles, but my Holland and Holland is one of the models they make for the magical trade. They've been supplying the professional hunters who shoot dangerous animals for Potions ingredients ever since the muzzleloading days. She's a bespoke weapon, originally built for my grandmother, and she's got charms to lighten her and to dissipate the recoil, so I can keep her on target in case I need the second shot in a hurry, as one generally does if one needs it at all. There's a charm to suppress the noise of her discharge as well, which is helpful because the potions to restore one's hearing taste excessively nasty."

"Oh." Harry wished he could think of anything else to say, but he couldn't.

"That's interesting, Luna. I'd love to read about those charms, sometime."

"Holland and Holland are a bit secretive, I'm afraid, but my third cousin Caitríona Nic an Fhir Chleamhnais is a gunsmith, and if you and Harry will come to visit me sometime over the holidays when she's at our house, which is a thing I'm very much hoping you'll do, I'm sure she'd love to talk with you."

"Thank you, Luna." Hermione was glowing.

Harry loved Hermione's eager-to-learn look, and if it had been appropriate he would have kissed Luna to thank her for inducing it again. As it wasn't, he said "We'd love to visit you, if your father doesn't mind it. Thank you."

"You're welcome. And my father has mentioned in his letters that he would be delighted to meet you both."

"We'd be honoured to meet him," Hermione said.

"And in any case, Harry, I do hope that if you must go and fight with a troll in the future you'll let me know in advance. I'd feel much more comfortable if I could be there with my rifle, set up in some place with a good view of the ground where you're meeting your intended game. I'd not fire unless you were genuinely in a tight spot, of course, as I understand that you'd wish to take your trophy by virtue of your own strength and skill, but I'd rather be there to help, just in case."

Harry couldn't think of anything useful to say to that, so instead he said the only polite thing. "Thank you, Luna. I'll keep that in mind."

"Please do, Harry. My House Elf friends could get me my rifle in less than a minute if we should need her. They're very good at that sort of thing."

Hermione reached past Luna and knocked her knuckles on a section of wooden wall panelling. "Well, hopefully we'll not need to face another troll, whether it's to save Ginny or for anything else."

Harry did the same. "I agree. Once is more than enough. I'm glad of the result, but I'd rather not have to do it again. And Ginny's a nice person, but my Hermione is all the girl I need." He hugged her round the shoulders, one-armed.

Hermione laughed and hugged him back. "So, don't you want an entire harem to fan you and feed you peeled grapes, Harry-mine?"

"I can't say as I do, my own Hermione. I've got the best girl in the world, haven't I? If it's a hot day and we want to be fanned, we can use one of the magic fans that goes by itself, or even an electric one if we're not at Hogwarts. Not to mention I like grapes better with the skins on, and I'm sure I'd have lots more fun feeding them to you than having you feed them to me."

"Thank you, Harry. But what if I might like some female company? I used to desperately wish I could have sisters, and harem-sisters would do just as well as the usual kind, I should think." She winked at him. "I think some of the girls wouldn't mind. Daphne and Millie thought you were, and I quote, 'dreamy,' even last year before they'd met you properly, and Susan has always said you've got gorgeous eyes."

"Susan is absolutely right, Harry. Your eyes are gorgeous. And I happen to know that Ginevra was writing a story about Sultan Hari al-Pott'ar and his harem girls, so I feel reasonably certain she'd not mind being a part of your harem, if you should find yourself having one and if you and Hermione should like to have her as part of it. She was reading bits of it to me over the summer, a new page or two nearly every time she'd come round the Rook to visit or we'd meet at the pond for a bathe. I do hope she'll finish it some day, because it was very good. It made me feel all tingly, and I could tell it made her feel that way as well. I do like how Ginevra looks when she feels all tingly, because her aura gets such pretty colours and the expressions on her face are wonderful and her body language is charming, and I do wish I had a picture of her with that look so I could show it to you both right now. It's so much better than when she looks distant, which is how she looks now, mostly. I do hope she's feeling all right. Her aura had a bit of a nasty colour to it this morning in Transfiguration, and I've not seen it look that way before, not even when were seven and Mister Weasley took us all for a ride in a Muggle van he'd bought out of a scrapheap and rebuilt using baling wire and chewing gum in the authentic Muggle way, and she got horribly sick with all the bouncing and swaying."

Hermione hugged Harry a little closer. "I hope Ginny's feeling all right as well, Luna," she said. "I don't know her anything like as well as I'd like to know her, but she seems very nice and I'd like to become friends with her. I'd been hoping she'd spend more time with us, but I suppose maybe she's intimidated by, well, Harry's and my relationship and all of that. And, as you said, she might be distracted with getting to know the other girls in her dorm."

"Thank you, Hermione. I think she'd like to become friends with you as well. In fact, Ron mentioned you in some of his letters to her, and I'd even say she developed a bit of a crush on you. There were days last winter when she didn't want to talk about anything other than how we'd all be friends at Hogwarts. I really don't know what happened. Perhaps she made up such incredible versions of Harry and Hermione in her head that she's too intimidated to get to know the real ones properly? If she is, I'm very sorry for her, because you're both much better in reality than any imaginary versions could possibly be."

"Thank you, Luna." Harry knew that wasn't nearly strong enough a response to what she'd said, but he couldn't think of any words that were. He looked at Hermione, she looked at him, and before he could even summon up the words to describe what he and his pet had decided to do they were hugging Luna between them.

"It's just as I said," the little blonde whispered. "You're more wonderful than even the best imaginary versions of you could possibly be, because no matter how hard Ginevra or I might imagine being hugged by the two of you or how much time we might spend in imagining, it couldn't possibly feel as good as actually being hugged by the two of you does."

"Thank you, Luna," Hermione whispered. "I... I'd rather hug the real you than an imaginary version, myself."

Harry had to work his mouth for a moment before he could get the words out. "And so would I, Luna."

"Thank you. I'm sure that once Ginevra gets sense again, she'll agree with me. I'm looking forward to hugging her again. And to the two of you getting to hug her as well."

"I hope she does, Luna, but in any case..." Harry glanced quickly at Hermione, and was pleased to see her nod, "we're always more than willing to hug you."

"Thank you. I know you have each other to hug whenever you want to, well I suppose unless you're in the middle of a lesson or Harry's on his broomstick or something like that, but I'm always more than willing to hug both of you. That is, if you'd like me to."

"And of course we would, Luna," Hermione said, so quietly that only Harry and Luna could have heard her, even if there had been other folk in the corridor.

"Yes, Luna. Hermione and I, we... you're a very dear friend of ours."

"May I, Harry? And may I, Hermione?" He didn't altogether know what Luna was asking, but he knew there was only one answer. Whatever it was, it would be good and right.

"Yes." Hermione said the very same word, as if for an instant they spoke with one voice.

Very tenderly, Luna turned her head and kissed Hermione on the cheek. Harry had never imagined that seeing someone else kiss his Hermione would be so delightful. She paused for a moment, her lips on the other girl's cheek as if they might stay there forever. And then she turned her head the other way and kissed Harry's cheek. Hermione smiled sweetly all the while, as if seeing her boyfriend-master-fiancé being kissed by another girl delighted her every bit as much as that same girl kissing her had delighted him.

Luna's lips left his cheek at last. The only softer, warmer, more perfect kiss Harry had ever known was Hermione's. The little blonde beamed at them, looking just slightly uncertain, as if she wasn't sure if she'd just done the worst or the best thing she'd ever done.

A instant of wordless communication, if not communion, passed between Harry and Hermione. They pressed their lips to Luna's cheeks, pouring all their affection and friendship and loving regard into the kiss. For a moment that seemed almost to last for hours, Harry could feel the girls' emotions as if they were his own, both Luna's amazement and delight and the aching loneliness that she was beginning to believe could actually be replaced with happier feelings, and Hermione's devotion and trust and steadfast commitment and love, as well as her belief that she had nothing whatsoever to fear from Luna. Harry wasn't sure why she would specifically think about not being afraid of Luna, but he was very glad that she felt that way. He would immediately stop being friends with anyone who made his Hermione feel afraid, and he would have hated to stop being friends with Luna.

Even after Harry and Hermione broke the kiss, the three continued to stand silent and still, holding each other. At last, Luna whispered "I hate to say it, because I could happily spend an entire day like this, but hadn't we better go and eat lunch?"

"I suppose we had," Hermione said.

"Yes. I can't make my Hermione go hungry."

"And I can't make my Harry go hungry. And it would be rather rude of us to make our very favourite Luna go hungry, wouldn't it?"

Luna's smile lit up the corridor. The trio let each other go, although Harry and Hermione continued to hold hands. Luna took Hermione's free hand, and they walked together, hand in hand and hand in hand, until they were just outside the Great Hall.

"Luna," Hermione said when they paused at the threshold, "would you... well, would you like to sit with us at lunch? I don't think it's against the rules."

Harry liked the idea of Luna sitting with them. "I've seen Penelope Clearwater and her friend Smythe--she's one of the Hufflepuff Beaters, and the single most terrifying honest, fair, and friendly Quidditch player I've ever faced in my life--sitting at the Gryffindor table with Percy, so it must be all right. And it would be nice to sit with you, Luna, if you'd like to join us."

"Audrey Smythe, right?" Luna said. "They do seem to have rather a goodly amount of friendly affection for each other, the three of them. And yes, I will, if you please. There are very few things I'd like better than to take the mid-day repast in your company."

#

That night, when their homework was done, Hermione plopped herself in Harry's lap before he could even get up from the desk chair and onto the couch. She rubbed her nose against his cheek and his nose and his lips, and then they kissed. Harry wondered if this was the sort of thing that married folk did. He hoped so, because he didn't want to have to give it up when he and Hermione grew up and got married.

"Harry, could we... would it be all right if I tried something?"

"Of course, Hermione." He had no idea what she wanted to try, but since she was Hermione he knew it was the right thing, and that it would be perfect.

"If you think it's... something we should save for when we're older it's fine, but I'd kind of like to, err..." She was nibbling on her lower lip, the way she often did when she was nervous. She looked amazingly cute when she did that, although sometimes Harry worried she'd chew too hard and hurt herself.

"Whatever it is, Hermione, we can try it, as long as you want to. I trust you." Harry concentrated on the little mole beneath Hermione's right eye, willing himself to keep his voice steady. It was better if he didn't speculate about what she might want to do, because not thinking about it would help to keep his body's physical reactions under control. Hermione knew it was normal, and so did he, and they'd mutually agreed to try and ignore it until they were older. They'd also agreed not to get embarrassed, and for the most part they succeeded, but still, it felt a little awkward.

She kissed him again. And now, slowly, oh so slowly, she opened her teeth and probed at his own teeth and lips with her tongue.

He opened his teeth to her, and did his best to match what she did with her tongue with his own. She seemed to like that, to judge by the way she hugged him even closer to her.

He didn't know how much time went by as the two of them slowly, gently, and carefully snogged. But it was as long as they needed to take, and that was enough. At last, they parted lips and sat silently, nose to nose, breathing in each other's breath.

"Was that all right, my sweetest master?" Hermione whispered.

"Shouldn't I be asking you that question, my dearest pet?" He went on quickly, not wanting her to think he was reproving her. "I thought it was brilliant. I hope it was... all right for you? I don't want to make you do anything you don't want to do, and we can wait to do it again if you'd prefer it that way, even if we end up waiting till we're grown up and married..."

"It was splendid, Harry. And I certainly don't want to wait that long to kiss like that again. I do think we should wait a while before we go too much beyond what we just did, but it was really nice." She giggled. "In fact, would you like to...?"

"Yes." They locked lips and tongues once again.

"Time for bed?" Hermione said when at last they paused for breath. "We could even continue this discussion there, if you'd like to?"

"Would you like to, my wonderful pet Hermione?"

"Yes, please, my darling master Harry."

###

Well, there might be more of this. We'll see. In any case, I thought that was enough for now.