Emily cast a fleeting glance to her daughter before she growled at the men, “Don’t touch Hermione.”

“Oh we won’t be touching her… or you for that matter.” The smirking man replied in a clipped tone.

Emily must have looked confused, for the other man spoke up, “Don’t worry, you won’t feel a thing.”

 Even though she was still disgusted with the sight of the families, one group in particular still managed to catch her attention. It seemed to her to be a sea of red, for each of the occupants in the tight bunch had ginger-colored hair and was being pampered by a plump, short woman who seemed to be wearing a hand-knit shawl atop a heavily floral skirt and jumper.

"The tower that you have so carefully created will be destroyed no matter what you do—your plans and ambitions shattered. The tower cracks and falls because it was a flawed structure built with the poor materials of misguided ambition, false values, and pride . . . Now, you must sort through the wreckage and truthfully examine your motives. If you try to erect the same tower again from the old rubble, it will collapse again.”

Harry was her target and nothing more. Friendship, actual non-faked friendship, was as out-of-bounds as you could get on a mission like this. Growing to like them… like that… it was unheard of, and certainly not ethical! Sure he was sexy, in that good-guy kind of way. Yeah, his hair looked really silky smooth even though there were always almost a dozen strands loose. Of course he—wait! Nonononononononononononono! This was all wrong!

She giggled again and he sighed in relief, “Too bad, soooo sad. But it' okay… because I have…” she lifted her finger to tap his nose lightly, “you to keep me company.”

“Uhh, actually I was going to get back to the…” he trailed off, as Hermione puffed out her bottom lip and shook her head. “…party?”

“I don't want you to go” She said softly, “I want you to stay right here!”

The silence was defining as they both stood there, avoiding each other's eyes. Hermione didn't want to make the first move, and, as far as she could tell, neither did Harry. At least she knew she wasn't the only one feeling remorse towards this. But it was only a kiss, a short kiss that would let them go free and get back to their chores. Just a kiss…

“Yes, they really are quite the couple, aren't they?” Luna asked, looking towards where Harry and Ginny were standing, talking with Seamus and Dean. “But if I'm right… the nargles will try to disrupt their meeting under the mistletoe.” Her gaze drifted to the bright pink arrangement.

“Nargles?” Hermione asked.

She turned back to her, “Yes, nargles. They often infest mistletoe unless some other type of shrubbery is around . . ."

She turned so that their position was changed back to the one they started with, never losing their rhythm with the blaring music. “How do you know my name?” she asked dangerously.

He twirled her at arm's length and brought her back so that her back was turned to him once again, both of their hands intertwined at her hips. He lowered his lips to her ear again, “That's for me to know and you to moon over.”

He stepped towards her, leaving all but a few inches between their bodies. “You're saying that if I kissed you right now you wouldn't feel a thing?”


She let her gaze flicker to his lips and quickly back up again. The temptation was deadly. “No, not a thing.”


He raised an eyebrow and before she knew it, his lips were against hers. She didn't have enough time to respond before he pulled away. He was testing her. And she was failing.

“Why was the girl with you, then?”

“She wanted to come with me.”

“And you let her?!”

There was a pause. “Well yeah. I didn't want to leave her behind.”

Another pause. “You love her, don't you?”

"I used to think so… but…”