Let's Start at Hello

As she pulled away from the kiss, she rested her head in the nook of his neck. The skin of her cheek gently brushed against his; a soft flow of warm breath traced its way around Hermione's body. As Harry looked into her eyes, he realised that the eyes that looked back at him were not the kind, loving brown eyes that normally accompanied her beautiful smile. Instead, they were alight with dancing flames, a building passion literally visible in the little light the room provided them. Without a thought, he ran his hand through her hair.

"Harry," she whispered, and he could feel his heart begin to race. As her body began to move against his, something inside him came alive. He found that he was fighting a losing battle against his heart and his own body. Everything inside told him to show his friend just how much he truly cared for her, yet something in the abyss of his mind slowed his motions. His body awakened; every subtle gesture, every silent breath drew him closer to the definition of perfection placed so magnificently before him. He could see the rise and fall of her chest in the dim moonlight.

The room was empty, save for the pillows and cushions scattered about. Harry couldn't remember why he had come down here and suspected that she couldn't either. As he found his head hovering above hers, her body flush against the cold stone floor beneath them, he discovered he rather didn't care.

So this was how it felt to be in love.

There was a showering of clothes as passion built and two became one. As love was expressed and feelings shared as intimately as mortals could share them, time passed faster than it had ever before. It all ended too soon, both felt, but they welcomed the joys and pleasures that came with its conclusion.

The girl beneath him groaned softly under his weight, but pulled him closer still. After a moment's rest, Harry lifted himself up, just slightly, to thank her with another kiss. It was not Hermione he saw as he gazed below. The hair was darker, though still very messy. The eyes were brighter, yet somehow more inviting. The skin was softer, smoother; the contours of her body fit more naturally with his.

"Pansy?" he whispered. She fidgeted beneath him; the panic that shot through her was evident. As she fought to leave, Harry held her gently in place. Rather than anger, he felt a different emotion well within him. She gasped, then swallowed thickly.

"Don't hurt me," she plead, closing her eyes as she braced herself for the worst. Her nakedness made her feel all the more vulnerable. That much was evident. Her sweat-slickened skin glistened in the moonlight as she tilted her head back, defeated. Harry found himself puzzled, yet impressed all the same. This was hardly the war-hardened Slytherin girl that he'd seen parading through the corridors all year.

"Why would I do that?" Harry asked simply, staring at her as he freed her. She opened her eyes, and found herself getting lost in his.

"Because," she said so quietly it could hardly be heard, "I – I tricked you."

"You're beautiful," Harry interrupted; he found himself admiring her body. She shivered, then sat-up. She began to gather her clothes. As she began to put her left arm through the sleeve of her robe, she looked at him. Her cheeks were a crimson red.

"I'll just – " she began, "I'll just leave, I guess." Her voice was shaky.

"Polyjuice?" Harry asked. She nodded and turned away. She had proven her intellect. The Polyjuice Potion was not an easy potion to brew. Knowing all he'd known about her before, the words she spoke next could easily have triggered an apocalypse.

"I'm sorry," she said. She stood to leave and turned. Harry slid his robes on quickly and darted after her. He found that his notions about her had been a bit off. She was hardly the person he had expected her to be when she was alone.

"Don't be."

"What?" She turned, a confused expression on her face. Harry took her hand in his; she fought against her nerves and let him.

"Don't be sorry," he repeated. He smiled weakly. Though she had tricked him, though she had pretended to be Hermione to become intimate with him, he found that he was grateful. Grateful that he had not cross the line with his best female friend, and grateful that he found that Pansy was someone he would like to cross the line with more often.

"Thanks, I guess." There was an awkward silence between the two. Only the occasional looks were exchanged before Pansy broke the silence. "I think I love you."

"I'd say that's a fair guess," Harry chuckled. "We did just, you know..."

"Yeah," she nodded, then with more confidence added, "I love you." As she turned once more to leave, he called her name.



"I think I love you, too," Harry said softly.

"Really?" Though he suspected she didn't intend to, she was smiling brightly. Harry could see the reflection of the hallway torches in her eyes. "Not you know – Hermione?" He was glad she referred to her as Hermione, rather than as Granger. She was a far more respectable person away from Draco Malfoy.

"We're friends," Harry said, stepping closer. "I love her, too. Just, in a different way," he lied. He had some feelings for her that he rather did wish to explore, but her interest in Ron – and Ron's in her – made treading those waters more dangerous than worth his while.

"Yeah," she sighed, resting against him. "But we barely know each other."

"I'd say we know each other pretty well, actually," Harry said with a grin. Pansy chuckled nervously, playing with a strand of her hair as she stared at the ground.

"So... where do we go from here?" she asked, pulling him into a hug. It was a bit awkward at first, but quickly became more natural.

"I could take you back to your common room," he said in a low voice, hoping that Peeves would leave them be. Harry knew they were walking close to his usual patrol.

"I mean... us."

"Oh." Harry finally understood; Pansy laughed lightly. "I suppose we could start at hello."

"Okay, let's do that," she agreed. "Let's start at hello."

"Hello, then." Harry was smiling as he turned to face her. He placed his hand on the small of her back.

"Hi," she said, once again speaking in a voice that only he could hear. "Does 'hi' count?" She tilted her head upward, as his dipped downward. His other hand found its place at the back of her neck; the warmth of his breath once again sent her mind and body into a blissful oblivion. Their lips met several times before either of them realised they were standing on a moving staircase.

"I'd say it's close enough."

Author's Note: This is a fluffy piece reminiscent of some of my older work. I hope you enjoyed it, nonetheless. Please review!