Author's Note: Yes, an update. Imagine that ;) I know this is really short - compared to what I've written so far - but I wanted to give you guys something. This has been a rather difficult time for me, mentally, emotionally, physically, so I thank you for your patience. This chapter is shameless fluff, I admit. And I like it XD Something longer should be out soon, but stress behaves like the tides. Hopefully it's out to sea for a bit.

Oh - I'm not sure where some of us got confused, but demanding that I continue or hand off the story to another writer is rude. Another writer will not write this story. Period.

That said - I'm not talking about a review, but rather a PM. As fair warning, I will regretfully ban anybody who sends me something like that from reviewing. As much as I like criticism, I do not condone messages that seem threatening.


Again her mouth took over without thinking, and this time most of her body went along for the ride. Leaning in towards him she said, "It's not logical Harry. That's why..." At this she leaned closer and Harry started to realize what she was doing. "I'm having such a hard time."

As she finished the sentence she closed the rest of the distance between her lips and his, and Harry Potter received his second very wet first kiss. After the shock wore off, he decided that his one was much better than the last.

Chapter Four: A Fluff Interlude, and Elves

An interesting pseudo-silence developed in the house right after Harry and Hermione broke their kiss. For a good minute, they stared at each other. Behind the drying tracks where tears had been, behind the slightly blushed cheeks, Harry saw his best friend in a way that, truthfully, wasn't that surprising to him.

The kiss, he pondered, was even better than feeling the presence of Voldemort leave his mind…for while Voldemort leaving was darkness being flushed out, the emotion behind this kiss felt like a Phoenix song erupting inside his head.

The sound of Hermione rising broke him out of his thoughts.

"Hermione, wh-where are you going?" he managed to say from a still confounded mouth.

She turned back towards him, looking slightly away, and spoke quietly.

"It'd probably be best if I went home now, don't you think? Things would just be too awkward after this…"

He interrupted her quickly, with some confusion and no small amount of panic in his voice, "You mean we can't do that again?"

Hermione's breath caught in her throat as she looked at the stricken look on Harry's face. Disbelievingly, she sat back down slowly.

She dropped her eyes a bit while her cheeks blushed a bright red, "Would you like to…?"

Before she could finish the sentence though, Harry had moved right up next to her and pressed his lips to hers. It wasn't something he had really planned, nor was it something he knew he had the courage to do, but suddenly he found that not kissing her was ludicrous.

This time, with fewer tears, Harry could feel the exquisite softness of Hermione's lips. They broke apart and stared at each other more…still lost in the entire exchange they had just had. Hermione was the one to break the silence.

"Did you really mean what you said? Do you really think I'm beautiful?"

Deciding to lighten up the mood, Harry made a show of looking her up and down. His mind wandered while following her lovely hair down to where it met her shoulders, back up to her face that always was so expressive and thoughtful. He then trailed his eyes down to a place he'd never really allowed himself to look before, and found what he thought to be two lovely shaped bulges in her shirt. …he coughed and blushed a bit as his gaze got caught up on them.

He continued on, drawing his eyes to her delicate yet sturdy hands, and back to her waist. Not allowing himself to look anywhere else besides her legs, he admired the remainder of her. That was when he vaguely heard her calling his name, and answered the question that she had asked.

"If you're not beautiful, nothing in this world is."

They had spent quite some time after that acquainting themselves with their newfound ability to kiss. It was about forty minutes from when he had arrived that Harry realized something was being forgotten. He tried to work out what it was as they stopped for air and, upon finding the important thing that was forgotten in the back of his mind, jumped up and shouted, "Oh no!"

Hermione looked up at him with panic on her face.

"Your parents are coming for dinner, and I haven't made anything yet!"

Sighing in relief, Hermione looked somewhat abashed when she realized what he had said. With timidity that was uncharacteristic of her, Hermione spoke to Harry.

"Um…Harry? I don't think any of us really expected you to make dinner…"

Upon seeing the confusion on his face she quickly continued on.

"It's not that we don't think you can cook…it's just…well, fine. I guess it is, just slightly, because we doubt you can cook!"

Harry grinned at the way Hermione's voice sounded. This certainly sounded like the young woman he knew and loved. Knew and loved. Knew and loved. Harry started laughing at the thought. How had he not seen it? Why had nobody told him? It was clear when he looked back at his actions, his words, his priorities. Well, maybe not clear, but pretty darn close. He would never admit to being the cleverest fellow in the world when it came to matters of the heart.

"Well, thank you very much, but I can in fact cook. What I come up with when I only have fifteen minutes of time though won't be very pretty."

He offered an unnecessary hand to help her up, and she accepted it. Both were smiling, and blushing a lot less than they had been just a few minutes ago. Relishing the newfound physical awareness, Harry held her hand for a moment before speaking.

"Let's get going downstairs. Even if I can only make sandwiches in this time, we'll at least have food to eat."

And so they walked hand-in-hand out the broad library doors, and started to move downstairs. When they reached the second floor, a delicious smell caught their attention. Glancing at each other, they hurried down to where the kitchen was, curious as to what was making the aroma.

A blur was moving around the kitchen, stirring pots, opening ovens, testing temperatures, and cleaning the dining ware. Truthfully, it was only when they noticed the small blur drop a knit hat that they knew what was going on.

In a slightly bewildered, and amused voice Harry called out, "Dobby?"

The blur immediately stopped moving and Dobby the House Elf was seen running over to where they were. His tiny little arms went around Harry's legs. The very hyper elf started to speak incredibly quickly, and Harry could only just understand.

"Mr. Harry Potter sir has come down! Harry Potter sir and his Miss should sit while Dobby finishes. Dobby is sorry to's not be having the foods done now, but the Headmaster sir is just be telling Dobby about Harry Potter sir's house short time ago. Winky is be's asking about coming with Dobby, but Dobby did nots know what Harry Potter sir is thinking, sir."

Even while being able to understand what the elf was saying, Harry got stumbled upon the profound amount of 'sirs' that the elf's speech contained. The look that Harry had given Dobby – a look that showed apparent confusion – seemed to be an answer to the little elf, for he started towards a wall shouting, "I's sorry Harry Potter sir, I will not be asking again! Dobby is a bad elf – "

Exasperated, and still completely befuddled, Harry grabbed Dobby before he could hurt himself.

"Dobby, it's not that. The Headmaster had told me that you'd be coming in a few days. I just didn't expect you so soon. It would be fine if Winky comes now too."

With a pleading glance at Hermione, and her resigned huff and nod, Harry was able to relax his hold on the elf and timidly return to Hermione's side.

Dobby called Winky's name excitedly, and she instantly appeared. Both elves bowed before going into the kitchen to complete dinner.

Still rather shocked at the sudden appearance of the House Elves, Harry created a Portkey for the Grangers' home, and Hermione and he set off to pick up her parents.