Suppression

Reparations

Harry and Hermione stared at the half-repaired motorcycle in wonder. Both of them hadn't expected to make this much progress over the course of the day but they worked well as a team. While Hermione sat on the bed and directed Harry with the use of several advanced mending charms, Harry casted them without so much as a second effort. These charms were well beyond their fifth year studies but he casted them as if he was a master.

"You're brilliant," he told her, wiping the sweat from his brow as he did so.

Hermione felt tingles in her stomach at the praise but the tingles began traveling lower as he smiled at her whilst swiping at his sweat covered brow. The flustered witch took a seat on his bed and scrunched her legs in response, hoping he didn't take notice of her state.

"Hermione," he knelt in front of her, "are you okay?"

When no response came except a high pitched squeak, Harry began to get worried. He rested his hand on her lap and asked, "do you want me to get some water?"

Hermione nodded quickly, thanking the heavens when Harry retreated quickly to get a glass of water and leave her in solitude. That was far too close, he'd almost turned her into a puddle of goo with a few words and actions. What the heck was happening to her around him?

When he returned moments later, the poor girl shakily took the glass of water from his hand and downed it in one gulp. The cool liquid did enough to settle her nerves before the tingling came back as she looked at him kneeling in front of her, his concern evident. This boy had zero clue on what he was doing to her, she mentally complained.

"Hermione, you look flushed," he swept her sweaty hair from her forehead, "do you want to go home?"

"NO," the girl immediately answered with a yell. "I mean, I'm fine, it's just that you're a bit ho—I mean your room is a bit hot."

Did he even know how cute he looked when he was confused? she asked herself when the confused boy cocked his head at her. She found herself wanting to run her fingers through his messy hair but stopped herself. She wanted to cup his face and kiss him deeply but held back. It was as if her body was waging war against her mind and she didn't know which side to choose.

"Let's get out of here then, we've done enough work," he gestured to the almost complete bike, "on that." He grinned at her before patting her lap. "And I think I've worked you enough for the day," he joked.

Hermione only nodded as she didn't trust her own voice at the moment. With haste, the girl rose from the bed and exited the room without so much as a backwards glance to Harry. She knew it must have looked rude but she wasn't sure if she could stop herself from jumping his bones and having her way with him in the room. She felt relieved as she heard his heavy footfalls behind her and walked downstairs with a slight smile on her face, however.

Harry followed after Hermione, taking plentiful care not to let his eyes wander over her body by looking down at the stairs. He was far past flustered at this point and Hermione was doing him no favors with the way her dress clung to her wonderful frame as she gracefully descended the stairs. He noticed a bead of sweat dripping down the back of her neck and fought against himself from licking his lips.

"Erm, Hermione," he hoarsely called, "we should go to the park. It's terribly hot in here." In truth, it wasn't nearly as hot in the house but it seemed as if air was a rarity. He barely remembered the last time he breathed normally or the last time his heart wasn't pounding against his chest.

"Alright," she lazily called without looking at him, her own face betraying the sheer amount of attraction-induced stress she was feeling.

Harry easily came to a stop beside Hermione and grabbed the spare key before putting his trainers on and opening the door for Hermione. "Right this way milady." He found it in himself to crack a joke despite the sheer anxiety he was feeling at her mere presence.

"Why thank you, milord," Hermione replied with a slight giggle before taking Harry's proffered hand and intertwining it with her own. She was still anxious around him but his warm hand was comforting enough to push back some of it. Even so, her mind seemed hellbent on fantasizing about her best friend.

The pair walked along the street in comfortable silence but Hermione couldn't resist peeking at Harry whenever she got the chance. He looked the picture of peace as he walked alongside her, a sight that was all too rare for her. The wind had picked up a notch and was blowing through his messy hair, making him look like a movie star out of one those cheesy romance movies her mother used to watch.

"Park's just around the corner," she heard him say, freeing her from her thoughts before they got more explicit.

Finally, the duo arrived to the peaceful park before Harry noticed his cousin amongst his friends. He gave a quick wave to Dudley before walking with Hermione to the swing sets and settling in to enjoy the peaceful summer breeze and the chattering of children. He closed his eyes against the crisp wind and allowed his tortured body to savor the tranquility of the moment.

Hermione, however, was much less tranquil. While she was glad that Harry was at peace, her own mind kept prodding her to jump the poor boy's bones. Hermione, in all her years, did not expect to be so wholly attracted to Harry. It seemed like every move, every touch, every word seemed to heighten her interest in him. She wondered if this would ever cease or if she was stuck like this for the remainder of her life.

"Hermione, I can hear you think," Harry called without opening his eyes.

"Sorry," she mumbled out apologetically. The damn boy had her brain completely confused. She didn't know how she did it without jumping into his arms, but Hermione sat next to Harry in the swing set and allowed the wind to lull her mind to relaxation. She never noticed Harry was now watching her intently, his face the same as hers when she got lost in her more...intimate thoughts.

Harry was no idiot, his mind had quickly pieced the puzzle of Hermione together during the walk to the park. She thought she was being stealthy, but he noticed the little glances she kept giving to him, and he felt the stare of her and her blatant admiration of him. She was doing exactly what he was doing to her. That meant that she was just as flustered and anxious around him as he was her. But did that mean she felt the same for him? Probably not, he conceded, but it did mean she was at least attracted to him.

They stayed like that for an hour longer before Harry grew antsy and decided to stretch his legs. Hermione sensed this and did the same, grabbing Harry's hand like it was second nature as she left her seat. If he was surprised, he didn't show it as he led her around the park.

"What time do you have to be home tonight?" Harry asked to strike up conversation.

"Same as last time, and that reminds me," she looked at him, "my mother said she would like to meet you sometime. If you're up for it, of course."

He was taken aback by the invitation for a fraction of a moment but recovered quickly and nodded hastily. "Sure, I'll just have to ask Dumbledore," he swept his hands through his hair, "though I doubt he'd say no, it'll be just like visiting the Weasleys." He shot her a small smile. "Without the hustle and bustle, and Ron's snoring," he added jokingly.

Hermione beamed at him before hugging him tightly. It meant the world to her that he was more than willing to visit her house. When she got home, she would have to prepare everything to make it perfect for him when he arrived. Oh, her heart was going to explode out of pure joy.

Harry laughed at her tight embrace but brought his arms up to hug her back. Before he could stop himself, he leant down and smelled her hair, allowing the sweet aroma of jasmine into his nose. He hoped he was discreet enough as he didn't want to ruin the moment but he didn't regret his actions at all. He would cherish this for as long as he could have it. When they returned to school in September, she would most likely end up with Ron.

Harry most definitely just smelled her hair, Hermione knew. She couldn't care less, however, because she was doing the same to his chest, feeling the scent of soap and a distinct Harry-like smell waft into her nose. It also helped that his chest was just as hard and defined as his back but the witch knew better than to run her hands up and down it. Merlin, she really needed to get ahold of herself.

"Let's go home, I've got to make dinner," Harry finally spoke before breaking the extended hug and taking her hand.