DISCLAIMER: I don't own Harry potter settings, characters, or plots.

Hermione heard him before she saw him. The telltale creaking of the old stairs was a dead giveaway, and she had spent so much time at their house that she could tell where they were coming from by how long it took them to get down to the first landing. She knew that it was Ron coming down. She looked down at the pot that she was still scrubbing, what she had earned for insisting that she do the dishes while Mr. and Mrs. Weasley have some time alone outside.

She looked out the window and onto the property of the Burrow. The hills were washed with a dark navy coating now, the kind that comes with the evening. The sun was just barely peeking over the hills in the distance and a sliver of the moon was starting to be noticeable against the now darker sky.

All the memories that she had pushed into the back of her head during the war came rushing back, flooding her with the feelings that she had experienced in the past. Sneaking out in the middle of the night to walk up the grassy hills barefoot, feeling the soft midnight breeze and laying down under the stars, looking up at them, amazed with how small they felt her. Her first broom ride other then in first year flying classes, messing around and falling off a countless number of times. Watching Harry and Ginny walk hand in hand towards the lake, enjoying each other's company.

She poured more soap into the pot, swishing it around and foaming it up. It was so calming, the feeling of the soapy bubbles that spilled over the sponge and onto her hands. She laughed to herself at the Muggle dishwashing soap that the Weasleys used for some reason. It's just like magic! She read on the bottle. She giggled a little bit more, letting herself succumb to the feeling of laughing again.

"What's so funny?" a voice asked. Hermione jumped a little in surprise, and then scolded herself, for she already knew that he was coming down the stairs. She looked over at him, and was surprised how good he looked in such simple clothes.

She took in the sight of him, his plain blue jeans that were finally the right length and his normal white tee shirt that was stretched wonderfully across his wide shoulders. His arms were flecked with even more freckles then before, she noticed randomly. His hair was mussed up, sticking up in odd directions, channeling James Potter himself. She looked at his face, his mouth wearing a warm smile and his eyes holding the mischief and laughter that had been absent from them for such a long while.

He took a step closer and her eyes went down to the sink and pot again.

"You kissed me," he said with a smirk, leaning his hip against the counter, his arms crossed against his chest, making his arm muscles flex brilliantly against the white fabric.

She leaned farther over the sink, her hair covering her face like a veil. She attempted to hide her blush and continuing to scrub the pans, albeit a little more vigorously this time. Damn him for being so irresistible. She built up her courage and made an action back.

She wiped her hands hastily on the towel and flipped her hair over her shoulder, placing both hands on her hips and looking him directly in the eyes.

"You kissed back," she said, her tone daring him to say something. She tried to glare at him, but she knew it was looking less then serious right now.

"I think you're right," he said, still smirking at her. He took a step towards her, and she stood her ground. His body moved closer to hers yet again and again until he was finally right in front of her. He placed his hands on her hips, exactly at the point where her shirt was a little too short and her jeans just a little too low. He moved his thumbs back and forth across the sensitive skin as Hermione drew him closer, closing her arms around his neck and drawing his face closer to hers.

Just when her lips were about to meet his, she swooped around and whispered breathily in his ear.

"Good night." She wiggled out of his arms and walked quickly to the stairs, leaving him dumbfounded, still in the kitchen. He looked after her for a moment, and then chased her. She squealed and giggled, rushing up the stairs but trying to be careful not to fall, knowing that he would soon catch up to her. Two strong arms wrapped around her waist and dragged her down, all the while her cursing the fact that his legs were about five times longer then hers.

Her backside bumped against the stair as she fell on it, now facing down towards the first floor. He landed in front of her, but on the stair below hers. She looked at his face, the light freckles that sprinkled them and the warm blue eyes that were staring back at her. She watched his ears go red.

"You kissed me," He repeated, this time with tenderness written in his voice, settling on his knees between her knees. His eyes traveled all along the curves of her cheeks, forehead, and chin, meeting her eyes a couple of times before they rested on her slightly pouted mouth.

"You're turn," she whispered, licking her lips.

He agreed.

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