"I haven't been shopping in Muggle London in ages. Just this once, Ron, please."

With quick steps, Hermione hurried through the streets, her phone wedged between her shoulder and ear, while she dragged a large shopping bag in front of sic with both hands.

"Would you like to come over for some cosy cuddling instead? Just the two of us?" Ron insisted on his counter-proposal. His voice sounded tinny from the phone speaker, an obvious sign that he was still close to his work. Most Muggle devices didn't work in buildings used primarily by wizards and you had to go a long way to get clear reception for your phone.

"We can do both," Hermione replied panting, "First we'll go and have a nice stroll through the shopping streets, and in the evening, we'll cook at your place together. What do you say?"

She was glad she had persuaded Ron to get a phone. She had deliberately chosen an apartment in the heart of London because she didn't want to forget her Muggle roots and loved the hustle and bustle of the city. But any means of communication of the wizards would have been just too conspicuous if she walked through the streets in the usual way, so half a year ago she had taken the time to explain to Ron how a mobile phone worked. By now, they were talking on the phone every day and he seemed to really enjoy bombarding her with text messages.

"Alright", Ron finally agreed. "But you cook!"

Involuntarily, Hermione had to laugh. "Excuse me? You don't really want to do that. You know how... how well I cook."

"It's not that hard. You just have to do it."

"Maybe it's not that hard for you," countered Hermione, as she put the bag into one arm to look for her apartment key with her free hand. "Not everyone had a Molly who taught you everything as a child!

"Fine, we'll cook dinner together. I'll just show you what to do!"

Hermione smiled when she heard the playful tone in Ron's voice. In fact, he loved that he was so clearly better than her on at least this one thing. She quickly said goodbye to him before the phone could slip between her ear and shoulder and pried open the heavy door to her apartment building. She knew that Harry was already home, as he stopped by her office before he left. Allegedly he was preparing a surprise.

She hoped it was a good surprise. After lunch with Malfoy, she could use all the encouragement she could get. If Harry pulled any pranks, he would get the shock of his life today. She was in no mood for jokes.

When she arrived at the front door, she smelled something that made her mouth water. Harry was cooking something. Or rather fried, if she interpreted the unmistakable smell of dough in a pan correctly.

"You're just in time," he greeted her as soon as she opened the door. "The last pancake is almost ready!"

Hermione stared at her kitchenette with big eyes. Yes, it definitely smelled good in here. But the mess Harry left behind was definitely worth seeing. With a groan, she put the heavy shopping bag on the sofa before hanging up her coat and getting rid of her boots.

"I hope you intend to clean up this pigsty yourself," she greeted him half accusing, half joking.

"I actually thought we were going to work on a division of labour. I cook, you clean," Harry replied seriously, but when he turned to Hermione, she could see the mischief in his eyes.

"If you know what's good for your health, you won't risk it today," was all she said. She commented his questioningly raised eyebrow only with a tortured grin.

When she finally returned from the bathroom to the living room half refreshed, Harry had already set the table, the pancakes were steaming in the middle, and he even found a bottle of wine somewhere, now open, waiting for her.

"I knew you were going back to Malfoy today," he explained, as Hermione looked at him in surprise. "And I could guess that this was not such an exhilarating thing for you. So... here's a little cheer-up. So you don't accidentally rip my head off."

In silence, Hermione sat down at the table and reached for the first pancake. If Harry was always so attentive, she really couldn't understand why Ginny had broken up with him. It was as if he could read her mind - always saying or doing exactly what she needed.

After she gobbled up the first pancake without saying a word, she finally said, "Malfoy was an arse. Absolutely childish. But if he thought he'd get rid of me like that, he's going to be surprised!"

Harry smiled at her crookedly. "You'd think he'd learned not to provoke you."

Laughing, Hermione took a big sip of wine. "Which only proves how little brain he has."

Before she knew it, they finished all the pancakes and a second glass of wine. Content with herself and the world, she poured a third glass and sat down in front of the fire. An actually terrible day finally took a nice turn. Not only had she persuaded Ron to take her to Muggle London at the weekend, but now she could also relax with good wine and good company. Such a Friday still had something good about it.

Grinning, she noticed that Harry, who sat down next to her on the sofa, was now quite red in the face. Obviously, he was not used to drinking wine in such quantities. Not that she was used to it herself, but she was sure she didn't look half as drunk as he was.

"You know, Hermione," he began, after a long period of communal silence, his tongue heavy with wine, "I am really grateful to you for taking me in. I didn't think so, but... you're really good for me. I miss Ginny every second I think of her, but when I'm here... with you... I'm distracted. Alone, I'd probably just go crazy."

"That's what friends are for, Harry. We'll work it out. And I like to distract you, believe me."

Clumsy, Harry put his wine glass down on the small side table, then grabbed her hand with both hands. "You're the best friend a guy could ask for. I don't know what I would do without you. So many things would have been different if I had never met you. Just think back then... the Horcrux hunt..."

Hermione's breath quickened. She didn't want to think about that time. Too much had happened. Not just the horror of the hunt itself, but between her and Ron. And between her and Harry. The time when they'd been alone without Ron had done her heart no good.

Only slowly her thoughts registered how Harry pulled her closer to him. "Without you I would have simply given up then. Without you, I would have given up so many times in my life."

Suddenly, Hermione was only too aware of how close they were. She leaned against him; her breasts pressed tightly against his upper arm while her thighs lay close to his. Heat that had nothing to do with the wine or the fire spread through her body. Nervously she moistened her lips before finding the courage to lift her gaze and look Harry straight in the eye.

What she discovered there scared her: she could read his affection, but there was more behind it. The sudden longing that she herself felt was clearly reflected in his gaze, which was fixed on her.

Merlin help her.

With the last bit of self-control, she stood up, put down her wine glass and shook her head. "I... I better go to bed. The day was long. Thank you for the food... and... the wine."

And before Harry could say anything back, she fled to her bedroom.