The wind murmured in the trees, rustling the pages of the book in her lap. She sat with her back to an ancient oak, cradled in the gentle vee of its roots. The shadows were growing long, the tree frogs were beginning to chirrup, and her hands were getting cold. She tucked a wisp of hair back over her ear and listened again to the quiet voices of the forest. Her heart leapt when she heard the soft crunch of leaves on the path. It wasn't the strange gait of a centaur. No, she was certain what she heard approaching had only two legs. She held her breath, waiting.

He approached the oak from the path, his hands clasped behind him, his eyes intent on every patch of half-darkness that might contain prying eyes. He'd picked this spot because it was just beyond the verge, where the canopy started to close out the sky and where the fears of even the older students began to overwhelm their daring.

He saw the patch of dark russet that marked her sweater, caught the flare of fading sunlight in the halo of her curls. He swallowed. And stepped off the path.

"I was detained. I apologize."

"No need," she whispered, suddenly feeling small as she looked up at him. "I brought hot cocoa. Would you like some?" She fished out the thermos from her book bag.

He regarded her for a long moment and the barest ghost of a smile passed over his lips. "Yes. Please."

As she moved to pour the cocoa, he settled beside her on the soft bower of leaves, shocking her as he bent to lay beside her, propped on one elbow, prostrating himself so that his head was beneath hers. Her hands were shaking as she offered him the red plastic cup. He took it and her hand in his, steadying her with his grip for a long moment. Her eyes never came up as she nodded.

She poured herself a cup and they sipped in silence. The wind moved around them once and then was still. In the distance, a night bird sang a few tentative notes.

"Was neutral ground a good idea?" He charmed the cup clean and set it beside her bag.

"Yes, I think so. Do you?"

"I do."

She repeated his motions, and reassembled the thermos, putting it back in her bag. Her hands still trembled and as she zippered the bag shut, he caught her fingers again and brought them to his lips with a quiet shushing sound. Her breath hitched as she touched his face.

"I don't want to frighten you."

"You don't," she whispered, folding in on herself until their foreheads touched. "This--," she indicated where their fingers were now interlaced. "This is just so--new."

He nodded, inhaling her scent, reveling in her closeness. The night was closing in around them, shadows layered upon shadows. "Tell me now, and it ends--"

"--No, please." Her fingers pressed to his lips, silencing him. "Please don't say that."

He let out a ragged sigh, his hand gripping hers tightly. She could see his shoulders relax, feel him kissing her knuckles. The world shrank to just the space between them, hidden away behind the curtain of their hair. She whimpered when he turned her palm up and pressed his lips against soft inside of her wrist. "Tell me what to say, Hermione. What to do. I am utterly--lost."

She hiccupped, swallowing a gentle sob. And leaned in to capture his lips.

~~~

Disclaimer: Not Mine. All JKR's. I work for feedback.