Disclaimer: I don't own the Harry Potter characters.

Hermione's life was perfect, that's all there was to it. The war was over, most had survived, and she was the Head Girl for their last, albeit delayed, year at Hogwarts. Harry was the Head Boy and he finally seemed happy after his defeat of Voldemort; Ron and Luna had come out of the war in a strong relationship and frequently got caught snogging in the corridors at school. Ginny and Harry had never come back together and she and Dean were in a currently on again relationship. The school still felt a little empty due to the absence of Dumbledore but McGonagall was doing a stellar job and a large and colorful monument had been erected to Albus soon after the students' return.

As she sank back into the couch, thinking of all this Hermione grinned. "Life is good," she said quietly.

"Not that I'm arguing but any particular reason you've come to that wonderful conclusion?" Harry asked as he climbed through the portrait hole.

She smiled. "Just thinking about everything that's happened in the last little while mostly. Everything turned out brilliantly didn't it?"

"Yeah I guess it did," he said with a smile.

She grinned right back and stopped to contemplate the other changes in her life, namely the fact that ever since they'd begun sharing Heads Quarters she and Harry had been flirting shamelessly. Throughout the dark times of the war they'd gotten very close and after their relationship had only strengthened. Though nothing had come of it to this point they'd been thoroughly enjoying themselves.

"Are you reading one of those books again?"

Hermione frowned slightly and pulled the novel close to her chest. "I don't know what you're talking about."

He sat down next to her and tried to get a peek. "Oh come on Hermione you practically devour those things and you always conceal the jackets on them. You make me curious."

"It's not meant to make you curious, it's meant to keep your nose out."

Harry made a rather comical puppy dog face that had Hermione giggling. "Come on Hermione just let me see."

He made a grab for the book and she yanked it away just in time. "No."

Flopping back against the couch he took a minute to contemplate. "You're only making me more curious you know."

She steadfastly ignored him with a little smirk and kept the book pulled tight against her chest. Then every last bit of air was pushed from her lungs as Harry knocked her to her back and straddled her legs, reaching for the book. She put her arms way up and out of his reach and he positively growled with impatience.

"You force me to bring out the big guns Hermione," he said menacingly.

Her eyes widened to the size of saucers. "You wouldn't."

"Give me the book," he countered.

"Never."

With a wicked grin he attacked her ribs, tickling her mercilessly. She kicked and struggled beneath him, giggling all the while. "Oh stop, stop!"

"Hand over the book," Harry commanded, never removing his hands from her ribs.

"I can't," she managed between labored breaths. "You'll never stop teasing me."

He leaned back and caught one of her feet, pulling out the stops and tickling the most sensitive spot on her body. She kicked hard and finally acquiesced, her breath hitching. Without meaning for it to happen, the book slipped from her hands. In an instant Harry was off the couch and diving for the book. He stood up and waved it triumphantly above his head before opening it up to read.

Hermione watched in horror as he flipped to somewhere near the middle of the book. "Not page 182," she moaned.

Harry glanced down. "Yes actually." Then he began to read and it was his turn with wide eyes. "Hermione!"

"Just stop now, it'll be better."

"I couldn't possibly," he said with a cheeky grin. Then he turned and began to pace the room as he read… aloud. "'No!' the lithe brunette cried even as he returned his attention to her beautiful neck, his fangs flashing. 'You're mind says no but your body, this beautiful body says yes,' he told her, running his hands down her body to rest on her hips."

Hermione was beginning to panic, now he was doing voices.

" 'My body may say yes but nothing can ever come of us Sebastiane,' she said breathily as her dress slid from her shoulders. 'Maybe so, but why shouldn't we take the time we have my beauty?"

That was it, Hermione couldn't take it anymore. Standing abruptly she launched herself across the room and on to Harry's back. His breath fled in a rather undignified grunt as he overcorrected to keep them both upright. "Hermione!"

"Give me the book!"

He laughed. "Nope, I think I want to see what happens between Sebastiane and the lithe brunette."

She whacked him upside the head. "Give it to me Harry!"

"Ouch, that hurt." He held his arms and the book well out in front of him, keeping the game going. "You'll never get it back now; maybe I'll even get hooked."

"You can be so impossible sometimes!" she growled. "Just hand the book over."

He heard the desperation in her voice and frowned. He wanted to be able to look at her but she was holding on like a spider monkey while she attempted to get the book back, so he improvised. Dropping one shoulder he got enough leverage to move her around. Hermione squealed and clasped her arms around his neck as she suddenly swung around to face him.

"You know I'm just teasing right?" he asked, green eyes concerned.

She nodded. "I know, it's just that people don't expect someone of my intellect to read trash like that."

He smiled. "Hermione you should read whatever you want to."

"I know, but sometimes I'm almost ashamed of reading them."

"Don't be, I think I can see the appeal," he told her, wiggling his eye brows.

She let out a full throated laugh and leaned back a little, then gasped as she almost landed on her head. Until that moment she'd forgotten that she was wrapped around Harry like in a scene out of her book. The book had fallen to the floor; her arms were clasped around his neck and her legs were wrapped tight around his waist. He had grabbed hold of her when she'd almost fallen and his hands had caught her under the thighs. Suddenly they both went very still. Bright green eyes met honeyed brown and held fast. Then, moving almost in slow motion, they leaned into each other and Harry captured her mouth. The flame ignited immediately and he took them both deeper. His hands moved from her legs to press into her back. It could have been seconds or minutes later when he pulled away reluctantly and looked into stunned, wide eyes.

Hermione felt as if she'd turned to jelly and disentangled herself to slide bonelessly to the floor. She felt her knees go a little weak and she leaned against him to keep herself upright. Possibly for the first time in her life she was well and truly speechless.

She wasn't the only one. Harry couldn't think of a single suave thing to say, so he settled for the first thing that popped into his head. "Wow." He felt Hermione nod against his chest.

"Uh huh." Slowly she looked up into his eyes. "I can't think of one intelligent thing to say right now."

He laughed a bit hoarsely. "I was just thinking the same thing. You know what the best thing to do is when you can't think of anything to say?"

She shook her head. "What?"

He grinned dangerously. "Take action." He leaned down again to kiss her, slowly and thoroughly this time.

When they pulled apart again it took a moment for Hermione's eyes to flutter back open. "Nope, still nothing intelligent."

Glancing down at the book that lay open on the floor Harry bowed to it before turning back to Hermione. "I'll never make fun of your cheesy romance novels again."

"I should think not. After all it was page 182 that finally got us moving in the right direction."

With a laugh Harry pulled her into his arms and kissed her, thanking Merlin for whoever had written the ridiculous bodice ripper lying at their feet.

Author's Note: I'm sure some kind of explanation is due for this story. The whole page 182 thing stems from this running joke in my family that in almost every romance novel ever written, there's a ::cough cough:: intimate scene somewhere within five or so pages in either direction of page 182. It doesn't always happen but if you check it out it happens more often than not. Also, we call really bad romance novels bodice rippers, you know the ones, where there's some Fabio looking guy on the front and a girl who's lost half her clothes. Bodice Rippers. And it's VERY important to understand that the main reason I wrote this story was to make fun of myself. Because I read the cheesy romance novels, can't get enough of them. So please don't take offense to the little jabs at romance novels, I'm making fun of my own addiction to them more than anything else.