I'm back with another chapter in what I think is probably record timing for me. I have a cold from sharing a bottle of Bacardi with about eight people on Saturday night, so I only have myself to blame, really, but it means that my life currently has no more meaning than sitting in bed with a box of tissues, a cup of tea, cold and flu tablets and my laptop. Thank you so much for all the reviews – it's incredible to see that so many people are actually still interested in this fic after all this time ("After all this time?" "Always." – nice Harry Potter reference there). Enjoy!

It was only now that they really noticed the tiny details about each other's appearance. Nicki's tiny freckles on her cheeks, a tiny birthmark which was almost heart shaped beneath her right eye, the small dimple just to the left of the edge of her lips when she smiled. The barely noticeable scar on Tom's cheekbone, the golden flecks in his blue eyes, the way one eye was very slightly darker than the other. His minty breath on her face for the five or so seconds that felt like several lifetimes.

She bowed her head so that a lock of chocolate brown hair fell from behind her right ear, framing her face and features perfectly to Tom, who was still pinned to the ground underneath her. They were both breathing heavily; a combination of chasing each other breathlessly around Hyde Park and the compromising position they found themselves in at that precise moment – any number of strangers around them would have easily mistaken them for a couple having fun on a sunny afternoon in central London, but in reality, the position meant that everything that had ever been between them was hanging in the balance, just waiting for one of them to make a fateful move.

Her elegant hands were placed one on his shoulder, the other on the vibrant green grass beneath him, and she could see them shaking very slightly as they were frozen silently in their position, their minds racing but equally totally blank.

Shit.

He moved first, his surprisingly strong arms lifting her up by her waist with strength she didn't know he possessed, and placing her gently on the grass next to him as he clambered up and offered her his hand by way of assistance. She blinked, surprised and confused as to what was happening, before taking his right hand with hers, picking up her shoes with her left, and letting him pull her up to a standing position. Good god, it was awkward.

They both coughed simultaneously, looking everywhere but to each other as Nicki slid her shoes back on and combed her thick, windswept hair with her long, delicate fingers. He placed one hand in his pocket, also running his other hand through his hair – without noticing, they were mimicking each other, despite looking in completely opposite directions as if nothing had just occurred.

"Right, well, we... erm... ought to be getting back." Nicki stuttered, exhaling deeply after she spoke as if to affirm what both of them were already thinking; Never, ever, ever mention that encounter; ever, ever again. It never happened.

"Mm-hmm." Tom replied, nodding and looking down at his shoes as if they'd suddenly become the most interesting things in the world. Well, it was better than staring awkwardly at Nicki, however aesthetically pleasing that would be. He must never look at her again; for fear that he might end up mentioning the encounter they'd just had in the middle of the park.

"What time is it?" she asked, as they began to make their way slowly across the park, both still looking everywhere but at each other.

Tom glanced at his watch, then back to the sky, as he informed her that it was twenty minutes to four, and they were due to meet the pupils in just over half an hour. He walked with his head high in the air, observing the sky whilst being almost blinded by the sun, which for the first time he could remember this year, was not hidden by clouds. They continued strolling through the park in an incredibly awkward silence, passing through several small coppices of trees, both of them looking in opposite directions. It probably wasn't wise for Tom, widely regarded as the most accident-prone person in the known world, to not be looking where he was going, but he nonetheless continued gazing aimlessly around him until the inevitable occurred.

They were just ambling through a coppice of trees when Tom failed to notice the large oak tree directly in front of his face. Still staring at what he could see of the sky, he walked straight into the solid wood as if he fully intended to keep on going, and fell backwards into the woman he was pretending wasn't there, and who had equally been ignoring his presence since she asked him the time five minutes ago.

Cursing loudly, he stumbled backwards into Nicki, clutching his shoulder and hopping on his right foot. Rather than asking him if he was okay, or even attempting to check, seemingly, she watched him hit the floor, his feet in the air, and burst out laughing.

"Thanks for the sympathy." he grumbled, still lying on his back in front of the tree which he'd walked into, and looking up into the face of Nicki in absolutely hysterical laughter. Bloody hell, he hoped she wasn't asthmatic – if she was, she sounded as if she was quite possibly on the verge of collapsing.

Eventually she managed to calm herself for long enough to crouch down so that she was almost at the height he was lying at, steadying herself with her right hand on the ground, until deciding that it was considerably wiser to kneel down next to him – and so she did, the denim of her jeans picking up tiny bits of bark in the grass as she knelt.

"Are you okay?" she asked, biting her lip to stop herself from laughing. Why was that always her first response whenever Tom managed to injure himself? Don't laugh. This is not funny. Do not laugh.

"Of course I'm bloody not," he muttered so that she could just hear. His feet were still in the air; a sight which nearly sent his (highly sympathetic) colleague into fits of laughter again, "I've hurt my flaming shoulder."

She snorted with laughter, trying and failing to retain a sense of dignity. She really wasn't good at this whole sympathy lark.

"Shall I kiss it better?" she asked; only half joking. In fact, probably less than half. Shutupshutupshutup.

He raised one eyebrow, and that was somehow her signal to just do it.

She leant over his body without thinking, supporting herself with one hand on his arm, and softly placed a kiss on his collarbone, her soft lips leaving a slight stain of her sheer lipstick on his tanned skin and the edge of his t-shirt.

Neither of them moved for what felt like hours – they were both frozen to the spot, staring into each other's bottomless eyes as if they were black holes about to suck them in and drown them in nothingness... except there was more than nothing in both of their eyes. There was something – a glimmer. Just the way they drank each other's features in with their glass-like orbs. And it was a kind of magic neither had ever quite experienced before.