Disclaimer: All the characters belong to J.K. Rowling. I´m just playing and enjoying with them.
A/N: Thanks a lot to wonderful Willow_wand.
A/N 2: Just a short one written as a gift. Thanks for reading!
This is the moment.
When the door opens, we become official.
It´s not as though we weren´t a couple before now, but when we enter the Three Broomsticks holding hands for the first time, all the wizarding world will notice. No more bets about the bickering duo with unresolved sexual tension, no more Golden Trio. This is us. Hermione and me.
And why wouldn´t we act like a typical couple?
Meeting each other at eleven, developing a crush at thirteen, falling in love at sixteen, and becoming lovers at eighteen. Although I might concede that the last part isn´t that typical, becoming lovers at eighteen without a single date in our history.
We hung out together for years, we slept in the same tent for months, and we shared almost everything two people could share, including love and excepting sex. It is not about newness because we had intimacy all the way, but it is about closeness.
It is about having a public date, like tonight. A date with friends, no mourning family or Obliviated parents. A date with freedom to touch, hold, and kiss seeking pleasure, and not comfort.
And we are so eager to have this rendezvous because a couple of hours ago we had our private one. The kind of encounter where we don´t show anything to the world, but where we show a world to ourselves.
So now I encircle her waist in the most intimate of ways, hoping it is written all over my face for everybody to know that I was the one who undid her zipper, and that my shirt smells like her because she did wear it in the breathtaking afterglow.
And we go public. Finally. Definitely.
And she sits on my lap, and I hug her the entire time, and we snog every five minutes, and we flirt openly as we never did before, keeping the chemistry that will define us until the end of time.
And when I kiss the daylights out of her just because now I´m totally allowed to do it, she laughs and brushes a few words over my earlobe leaving a trail of gasps on its way. And she tells me she wants to go back to the flat above the shop.
"But if we go back, we´ll lose all the gossips about us. Wasn´t this where you wanted to be tonight?"
"No, I´ll be exactly where I want to be."
I arch an eyebrow. Killing her. Knowing it. And enjoying it immensely.
"And where might that be? In my bed?"
She bites her lower lip. Killing me. Knowing it. And preparing the checkmate.
"No, in your arms."