AN: Hey everyone! Here's a one-shot from a fest I participated in. Enjoy!!

AN2: I own nothing!

AN3: & because I'm sure someone is wondering – my long, incomplete works (mainly 'Because of You') are NOT abandoned. I won't bore you with excuses, but I swear the final chapter will be posted very, very soon.


Harry sat on one of the hard, Maple wood chairs facing the row of floor-to-ceiling windows in the Hogwarts library. He absentmindedly twirled his wand between his thumb and forefinger, furrowing his eyebrows in frustration.

"Honestly, Harry. Stop sulking."

Harry had not heard Hermione come up behind him and barely noticed as she plopped down on a chair next to him with a large, worn textbook characteristically in hand. She glared at him for a moment, then waved her hand in front of his face, hoping to break his empty stare. He blinked a few times, as though bringing his eyes into focus then sighed.

"Sorry, I was just…"

"Sulking?" Hermione finished, shaking her head. She placed her book down on the floor next to her chair then eyed Harry expectantly. He didn't respond. Instead he ran his hands through his hair and sighed. Hermione's expression softened a bit as she studied the worry lines etched across his face.

"It isn't a surprise you had trouble, you know," she stated softly, but matter-of-factly. "It takes complete relaxation more than concentration."

Harry snorted. "I can relax."

Hermione rolled her eyes.

The source of Harry's frustration had arisen during Defense against the Dark Arts class. They were learning a new spell which was in the family of Wingardium Leviosa, but much more advanced. The spell, Pardium Levimeo, was cast on oneself and allowed the witch or wizard to hover just above the ground. The clearance was only a few inches, but it was definitely useful when trying to avoid leaving footprints in soft ground or crossing over impossible terrain like swamp lands or lava. Of course, they'd only just begun learning to hover in place, let alone take steps in their levitated state. Harry's feet, however, had yet to leave the ground at all. As Hermione had correctly pointed out, the spell was not so reliant on concentration or even skill as it was on complete relaxation.

Harry had never been able to properly master Occulemency, even when the stakes were as high as they could be. The simple fact had been that his mind simply never shut off. Even when his entire body relaxed, his mind worked furiously. It wasn't that his thoughts were constant grandiose epiphanies or even anything close. It was simple things that bounced around his head constantly – Quidditch, what might be served for dinner in the Great Hall, where he'd put his Charms homework, and most recently, how adorable Hermione looked when she scrunched up her nose in concentration. The last thought was particularly disturbing and often destroyed any possibility of relaxation whatsoever.

Still, Harry was completely frustrated. Sure, he'd had trouble getting a spell on the first try now and again, but they'd been practicing the Pardium Levimeo spell for a week and a half now and his feet continued to remain firmly grounded. Every other Seventh Year had preformed the spell properly at least once, even Neville.

"…bothering you." The end of what Hermione was saying broke through Harry's thoughts.

"Sorry, what?" he mumbled, pulling off his glasses and rubbing his eyes.

Hermione sighed and shook her head. "I said, 'I see this is really bothering you'."

"Is it that obvious?" Harry groaned and slouched down further on the chair, jamming his wand into the pocket of his robes. "I'm just having a hard time of it all. With the War over and my destiny fulfilled," he waved his hand sarcastically, "I don't know where I belong now. And if my magic starts failing me…"

He didn't finish. Instead, he lowered his chin to his chest and cursed softly, carefully keeping Hermione in view out of the corner of his eye.

Hermione looked at him curiously, than something resembling adoration passed across her features. Harry turned his head to her and she rolled her eyes incredulously with a smile.

"Oh, Harry. Your magic isn't failing you and you don't belong anywhere, at least not anymore. Your life is no longer mapped out ahead of you. You're free to be and do whatever you want. You're insecurities are charming, but, honestly, get over it."

Harry's mouth hung open in unmasked surprise. He wasn't insecure, was he? Did she really think he was charming?

Did she really tell him to 'get over it'?

She laughed sweetly at his apparent shock and Harry could feel the hair on his aims prick up. The reaction only added to his surprise.

What in Merlin's name is going on with me?

"Ok, so maybe that was a bit harsh," Hermione added, still giggling softly, "but, I promise your difficulty with this spell has nothing to do with your magic ability." She paused then added, "and, I'm going to prove it."

Harry cocked an eyebrow. She bit her lip and he could swear her eyes turned a shade darker than he'd ever seen them. Not that he spent a lot of time looking into her eyes and studying their color, or did he? Harry forcefully pushed the thought out of his mind. He watched Hermione's gaze sweep across the library. Curiously, he looked around as well.

The library was empty as far as he could tell. It was a Friday evening after all, so most students were either finishing supper in the Great Hall or burning off steam in the common rooms. Madame Pince was surely at her desk, but rows of bookcases blocked her from view.

Hermione cleared her throat then scooted her chair towards Harry's until they were touching. Harry could feel something buzzing through the air, though the exact source was unidentifiable. An electric current seemed to pulse around him, ever so slightly, and his senses peaked. He was suddenly extremely aware of Hermione who was now leaning slowly forward, bringing her face closer and closer to his. Immediately, his heart sped in his chest and he silently scolded himself for allowing the reaction. All thoughts, however, instantly vanished as Hermione's cheek passed by his and her lips came to rest just centimeters from his ear.

"You just need to learn to relax," she whispered in a voice so smooth Harry practically melted into his chair. Her warm breath tickled the side of his face and it took all the self-control he had not to quiver.

"Hermione, I don't think…" He wasn't sure where the words were coming from and he was surprised to hear the voice was his own.

"Good," Hermione interrupted. "You're not supposed to think. You're supposed to be relaxing."

Harry nodded dumbly. He closed his eyes and took a deep breath, deciding it best to go along with whatever was happening between them at the moment. After all, it was all for the sake of his magic.

When he opened his eyes again, Hermione's entire body had moved closer and she seemed to be waiting. She smiled widely, but Harry caught the way her bottom lip twitched ever so slightly. He knew she was nervous. Her bottom lip always trembled when she was nervous.

Oh, hell! Why did he know that?

He assured himself such a quirk would have eventually caught his attention considering the sheer amount of time they had spent together over the years.

Oh? Then what's your reasoning for wanting to snog her senseless every time that perfect, pink lip faulters?

Harry's breath flew out of his lungs with a whoosh, but he quickly realized it wasn't only his thoughts that had caused the outburst. Hermione had swung a leg over his lap and was now sitting on top of him, straddling his hips. His head was pounding, and as she wiggled comfortably into place, he realized his blood was beginning to pound somewhere else. He felt warmth creeping into his cheeks as he flushed with embarrassment.

"Hermione, I'm not…"

"Relaxing," she finished, abruptly. She placed her hands on the white, button down shirt clothing his chest and slid them outwards, moving under the black fabric of his robes. Slowly, she pushed the material down over his shoulders. Following wordlessly, Harry pulled his arms out from the sleeves. He wondered if she realized exactly how counterintuitive this was to relaxation, but something deep within his core told his brain to shut up.

"Oh! Hmm," Hermione drew back and brought a finger to her lips, scrunching her nose in thought. Merlin, he loved when she did that. After a moment, a light passed before her eyes and she smiled. Harry tilted his head in confusion, completely beyond coherent speech, and watched her pull her wand from the pocket of her robes. She pointed it behind him and muttered a low incantation, then seemingly satisfied, returned it to its holster and nodded.

"Just a little warding spell to buy us some time if someone should decide to come back here," she said. "You know, probably best no one walks in unannounced on our, uh, lesson." With this, her resolve wavered just a bit. Her cheeks turned slightly pink and she worried her bottom lip between her teeth. Harry couldn't stop the smile that played across his features.

"Oh, wipe that grin off your face, you git! You're supposed to be relaxed, not amused!" she hissed, returning to her façade of confidence and control. Harry held up his hands playfully. "Now, close your eyes and relax," she added, whacking him softly on the chest. Harry immediately obeyed and closed his eyes, though relaxing was proving to be as difficult as ever. Presently, his mind was working very hard to keep a certain 'visitor' from popping up to join the lesson. He tried desperately to focus on his breathing; keeping it as steady and regular as possible.

Suddenly, he felt a soft tugging around his neck. He snuck a peak out from under his eyelids and saw Hermione's hands were now grabbing tightly at his neck tie.

Oh, if only she knew how many of his fantasies she was dangerously close to playing out right now.

Harry felt a strong pulse emanate from his nether regions and all control was almost lost. He bit the inside of his cheek, desperately fighting back the feelings. Anymore thoughts like that and he'd be done for. Silently, he prayed and forced sobering thoughts into his mind.

Voldemort, my parents, Aunt Petunia's knickers…

"You are not relaxing, Harry." Hermione's voice immediate erased all the unpleasant mental pictures he'd conjured up. He opened his eyes and met hers which he was surprised to see had turned almost black in color.

"Work with me here," she whispered with a soft smile. Her fingers slid up to the knot of his tie and began pulling gently, until it loosened. She gave it a tug and it slid off from around his neck. "Just, let go."

Harry couldn't have not let go if his life depended on it. His eyes rolled back in his head as a wave of pleasure racked his body. He instantly hardened beneath her and felt his face grow hot with embarrassment. He screwed his eyes shut, fearing her response to his hormone-driven reaction.

To his surprise, she didn't she leap off his lap or cry out in disgust. Instead, she flattened her chest against his and leaned in as close as she could. Harry swore he could feel her nipples hard against him and the realization turned his tongue to sand paper.

He released a whoosh of breath he didn't realize he had been holding as she again brought her lips to his ear, this time brushing against them ever so softly. Harry shivered uncontrollably.

"Better," she whispered. "Now focus on nothing. If you must focus on something, focus only on the exact present. Focus exactly on what you feel, block out everything else. Keep your eyes closed."

Harry nodded and felt Hermione's arms snake around his neck. Felling the need to put his own hands somewhere, he brought them to her sides and rested them gently against her hips. She didn't protest. Instead, using his shoulder as leverage against her forearms, she began to lift herself above his lap. Then, she gradually brought herself back down, creating a slow bouncing motion on top of him. Harry's mind exploded into a million different colors and shapes, but, much to his amazement, remained void of any coherent thoughts. His entire thinking process seemed to have short circuited. He had absolutely no memory of how the two of them had possibly gotten into this position.

Somewhere deep within the confines of his now nonfunctional mind, he became aware of a change in Hermione's breathing. It was becoming more heavy and uneven. He wanted so badly to open his eyes. He wanted to study her face, remember her exact expression, save this moment forever. Yet, he knew opening his eyes would disrupt the whole purpose of this… what did she call it?... lesson. There would simply be too much to take in, too much to see for his mind to properly shut off. So, he did as he had been told and kept his eyes shut.

A sudden jolt of pleasure rippled through his body and a low moan escaped from between his lips. He realized her movements had changed. Her hips were no longer moving up and down, but were now making more of a back and forth motion. She slid down the length of him then back up, again and again with increasing speed. Impulsively, Harry used his hands to push her hips down harder against him, adding his own gyrations so that they began to move as one. All sane, logical reason had been completely overridden by primal urges and years worth of desire and longing. He wanted this to never end. He wanted to just stay like this for hours and days and months. However, something unignorable in his trousers was starting to set off warning bells that 'the end' was approaching much sooner than Harry hoped.

He suddenly felt one of Hermione's arms untangle from behind his neck and slip down next to his side. Her hand rummaged around in his discarded robes then moved away again.

"Take this," she whispered.

Harry didn't have to wonder what this was for very long. As the words left her lips, she pulled his right hand gently away from her hip and pushed something thin and hard into his palm. He clutched it and a quick, familiar roll through his fingers revealed that it was his wand. She settled back into rhythm, grinding against him as hard and as fast as she could. With a throaty groan she pushed her face into Harry's neck, sending his mind reeling with pleasure.

"Say it. Say the spell," she breathed.

"Huh?" Harry responded in a barely audible grunt. He realized he was suddenly feeling more daring as his empty left hand began creeping around to the small of Hermione's back.

"Pardium Levimeo," she responded in a thick, labored voice.

Pardium what?

Harry's mind was swirling with a mixture of fog and complete nothingness.

Pardium Levimeo, Pardium Levimeo...

Understanding broke through the fuzziness.

The spell! Right! Now?

"Hermione, we're sitting with you on top of me. I can't even do it alone standing up." He struggled to keeps his voice level, but the words still sounded strained and breathless.

"Harry, cast the spell. Please." Her voice was soft, but firm and followed by a deep moan that made Harry's insides lurch with ecstasy. He knew instantly, in that moment, he would do anything she asked. He couldn't remember ever wanting to correctly cast a spell as bad as he did right now. He cleared his throat and swallowed hard, then adjusted his grip on his wand. His eyes were still closed as he flicked his wrist and spoke the incantation.

Hermione stopped moving and they both held their breath. Harry's eyes fluttered open, immediately caught by Hermione's intensely dark ones. For a moment, nothing happened and a sense of dread filled Harry's stomach. Then, ever so slowly, he felt himself begin to rise up off the chair. He levitated, only a few inches in the air with Hermione perched on top of him, wide eyed and grinning.

I'm doing it! I'm really doing it!

Suddenly, she shrieked and threw her arms tightly around his neck. The force practically knocked the wind out of him and as a result his bottom landed back down, hard, against the wooden chair.

Hermione hopped up off of his lap, clutching her hands to her chest and beaming.

"See! See? I knew you could do it! I knew!"

Harry too was grinning wildly. Despite the celebration, he quickly became conscious of a rather obvious bulge pushing against his trousers. He snatched quickly at his robes, pulling them over his lap. To his relief, Hermione didn't notice. She sunk back down next to him on her own chair and sighed contentedly.

Harry was suddenly aware of a deep sense of gratitude that washed over him; gratitude and… something else.

Something resembling what love must feel like.

Harry shook his head in an effort to clear the thought, but it was not so easily ignored.

Good lord, you love her, don't you?

Harry's thoughts were interrupted by a sharp jab to his ribs and for a moment Hermione's face became a distorted, grey blur. He blinked and squinted.

"What's wrong?" she asked, placing a hand on his shoulder.

"Nothing," he answered slowly, rubbing his head.

Well, that was weird.

The thought had just barely left his head when suddenly felt his body being shaken back and forth, roughly. He looked at Hermione's hand which was now gripping his forearm tightly.

What the…?

"…up! Harry, pay attention!"

Harry's head flew up from the desk. His eyes darted around the room, taking in his surroundings. The wall of floor-to-ceiling windows had disappeared along with the rows of bookcases and the once empty room was now filled with students. For a split second, terror gripped him.

How much had they all seen? Had Hermione's wards failed?

Reality slammed against him cold and hard. He wasn't in the library and hadn't been since earlier that morning. He was in the Defense Against the Dark Arts classroom. They were spending yet another period going over the Pardium Levimeo spell and Harry had most obviously fallen asleep. He groaned with disappointment at the realization.

"Pay attention, Harry! You're having enough trouble with this spell as it is. Sleeping during class certainly won't help you!" Hermione's tone was stern. She shook her head and released his shoulder.

Harry leaned his elbows against the desk they were sharing and rested his chin in his hands. Something deep within Harry's brain doubted he'd have trouble with the spell today. Remembering the dream as he glanced at Hermione, he felt a smile crawl across his face. She cocked an eyebrow curiously and Harry could swear her brown eyes darkened just a shade.