Chapter 7: Deadly Dealings

"He's dead! You-know-who is dead!" Whispers first, still sounding doubtful, grew in volume and conviction with every second, every repetition, until the witches and wizards present were shouting as loud as they could. Dumbledore nodded, and the dam was broken. People hugged each other, danced, others fell down on their knees, a wide smile stuck on faces wet with tears. Everyone was celebrating, cheering, crying. Everyone but four people.

Harry stared at the corpse - or rather, the grotesque, inhuman head he had just cut off. It was over. Voldemort was dead. He took a deep breath, but rather than feeling a weight lifted from his shoulders, he suddenly felt empty inside. The prophecy was fulfilled. It was over.

He felt a hand on his shoulder. Turning his head he saw Hermione standing next to him. Saw her again, he realized. She had been there since before he killed Voldemort. She had a shy smile on her face, tinged with sadness and understanding. Serious, not celebrating, but hopeful. He hugged her, hard. He didn't know how long he held her in his arms before he kissed her.

Sirius was standing next to the couple, Harry realized after a while. He was looking proud, but tense, his smile not reaching his eyes. His godfather was watching out for him, he realized, watching Dumbledore.

The Headmaster had been staring at the severed head of Voldemort. Harry saw his lips moving, but couldn't hear what he said. "Goodbye Tom." Hermione whispered into his ear, with a nod towards Dumbledore. Then Harry met the old wizard's eyes. No twinkle. No smile. He looked weary, and wary. Wary of them, Harry realized.

In the middle of two dozen people cheering, letting their emotions run wild, some even shooting fireworks into the sky and others sending out patroni to spread the word, four people stared at each other, three on one side, one on the other.

An hour later, all four were in Dumbledore's office. Three in front of his desk, him behind it. Outside the news of Voldemort's final defeat was spreading like wildfire through Hogwarts, prompting the same celebrations the Order of the Phoenix had already started. The elves and Filch would have a lot of work the next day, Harry was sure of that.

"I am disappointed, Sirius. You condemned a brave man to die. A man whose help had made the defeat of Voldemort possible in the first place." Dumbledore sounded serious, but not as angry as Harry had expected. Maybe warding the hideout had tired him more than expected? Or maybe he was feeling the same emptiness Harry had been feeling?

Sirius at least was not looking or sounding tired. He met the Headmaster's gaze, and shrugged. "We couldn't risk Voldemort apparating out as soon as he saw Snape fleeing. We wouldn't have had such an opportunity again, Snape's cover would have been blown."

"And you decided that Severus would have to be sacrificed. You had children kill him." There was definite anger there. Harry hadn't thought of that. Voldemort's death had occupied his thoughts almost to the exclusion of everything else. He had helped kill Snape. Had placed the charges that caused the building to collapse on him.

"Professor Snape had already wasted hours once before, when immediate action was needed, Headmaster." Hermione - Spygirl - remarked, in a very cold voice. Dumbledore took a hissing breath, swallowing whatever retort he had been about to make. Harry was briefly confused, then he remembered that talk the four of them had had, in this very office, right after the battle in the Ministry, and he understood. He reached over and squeezed Hermione's hand.

Sirius looked at the two of them, his smile more a baring of his teeth. Harry suddenly realized that even if Snape had managed to apparate in time to escape the collapse, his days would still have been numbered due to his godfather and his girlfriend. Judging by how stiffly the Headmaster sat in his chair, he had to have realized that as well.

The old wizard sighed, then cleared his throat. "With Voldemort dead soon it'll be safe for you to return to Hogwarts not just as a visitor, but as a student, Harry. You will be able to enjoy the rest of your school years in peace." He smiled at him, and only at him, Harry noticed. He suddenly realized that Hogwarts didn't feel like his home, not anymore. He squeezed Hermione's hand again, but didn't take his eyes off the Headmaster.

"What is different compared to 15 years ago, Headmaster?" Hermione's tone held a slight challenge. Harry caught the man frowning, briefly, before he answered.

"It'll be just a question of time until Voldemort's remaining followers are brought to justice. He has not many left, not after the losses he took during the summer."

"Will Harry be safe from those who will want to use him and his fame for their own desires?"

"Harry is a young man now, no longer a mere child. I will do all I can to shield him from those who'd try to use or manipulate him. He will be able to be a normal student. As his parents would have wished for him."

Before Hermione could answer Harry squeezed her hand, and spoke up himself. "What about the danger to those students whose innocent actions" - he laid the sarcasm on thick there - "could be mistaken for a lethal attack?"

"Harry, as much as having had to kill Voldemort must have shaken you, let me assure you, you are no danger to the students." Dumbledore's eyes twinkled now, his smile widened, but Harry felt a cold lump in his stomach. He didn't care about being normal anymore. He didn't want to be normal anymore, not if it meant he couldn't be with …

Harry snorted, and smiled sadly at the Headmaster. Wrapping an arm around Hermione's waist, he kissed her cheek. "Where she goes, I go, Headmaster. And we all know, she won't be going to Hogwarts."

He met Dumbledore's eyes, unflinching, until the old Wizard's expression changed to one of deep regret. "I wish this wasn't true, Harry."

"Headmaster, above all, my parents would have wanted me to be happy." Harry kissed Hermione again, until Sirius made wolf-whistling noises. Dumbledore's eyes helt less regret and his smile looked more genuine when the three left the old wizard's office and flooed to No. 12 Grimmauld Place.

Back in his godfather's house, Hermione was hugging and kissing Harry again. He realized she had been afraid he might chose Hogwarts and his friends over her. Not that he could blame her, he had taken Ron's side so often in the past, even if that had been before they had become a couple.

After a while, Sirius' coughing interrupted them. When they both looked - not glared, even if it was close - at the animagus, he grinned. "I am not saying I am disagreeing with your choice, Harry, only a fool would do that, but have you thought about what you'll be doing now?"

Harry hadn't, but he he trusted Hermione to have given it more than just some thought. He was right.

"We'll keep up our lessons and training, hiring tutors as well. We can take our N.E.W.T.s when we are ready. There's no longer a need to live at the Dursley's next summer, so Harry can live here permanently."

Harry realized he'd be living with Sirius every day now, he'd not be at Hogwarts for most of the year, only visiting his family during the vacation. Both he and his godfather smiled widely at that. Of course the older wizard had to wink and add "And will you be living here as well, Hermione?"

She grinned in response. "Of course." Then she grew serious. "My parents still have to find a new house, and we'll be able to install a floo there to easily travel back and forth, but even so… sharing a bed helps with the nightmares."

Sirius, for once, didn't make a joke about that, just nodded in understanding.

"Though there are things we need to do right now." Hermione added. "We need to push Fudge for your exoneration. Between Harry killing Voldemort and Pettigrew's corpse, and the fact everyone is celebrating, Fudge should not put up much resistance."

Sirius looked surprised. "I hadn't thought of that." Hermione rolled her eyes at him while Harry grinned.

A week later Harry was standing in front of the Wizengamot, together with Hermione, both dressed in the most expensive robes Sirius had found, waiting for Minister Fudge to finish his speech and award them their Orders of Merlin, First Class. Sirius himself was sitting in the audience, next to Remus and Tonks, with a proud smile seemingly stuck on his face.

As it was often the case, Hermione had been right. Fudge had been all but bending over backwards to make sure the hero of the hour harbored no ill will towards him due to the "earlier misunderstandings". Especially after the Department of Mysteries had confirmed that the prophecy had been fulfilled and Voldemort was dead. With a signature from the Minister for Magic Sirius was exonerated and pardoned for his escape from Azkaban. He had even waived financial compensations for his time in Azkaban, though everyone had understood that the Ministry owed him. Harry suspected Sirius had cashed in some of those favors owed to make sure Hermione would receive the same honors as himself, but he hadn't bothered to ask. He didn't like politics.

The Weasleys, including Ron and Ginny, were also attending, as were Neville with his Grandmother, and Luna with her father. Harry was surprised they had received permission to leave Hogwarts for this.

"And it is with great joy and honor that I present our saviours with the highest honor Wizarding Britain has to offer: The Order of Merlin, First Class!" Fudge had finally finished his speech, and walked towards Harry and Hermione, Percy Weasley following him, carrying a cushion with the two orders on it.

With a pompous expression the Minister hung the order around Hermione's neck, then shook her hand. The young witch was smiling widely. First muggleborn witch to receive this honor, she had told Harry the day before. He was very happy for her.

Then it was his turn. The medal's green ribbon felt quite light around his neck, the medal wasn't as heavy as he had expected. He shook Fudge's hand. "It's an honor, Minister." He had to fight to keep smiling when Fudge invited him to take the spot in front of the audience, for his own speech. His speech. The last few days had been filled with people offering him help with it. Dumbledore, wanting him to emphasize forgiveness and healing the rifts the war left in Wizarding Britain. Sirius, wanting him to sneak a few jokes in, with Remus trying to prevent such a faux-pas. Even - or rather, now that he thought about it, especially - Hermione, who wouldn't get to have a speech of her own, due to "timing issues". She had 30 inches of parchment ready about muggleborns, elves, creature rights, bigotry and reform. His love was many things, but a speech writer she was not. Harry had smiled at everyone, and promised them he'd consider their advice. He had - and rejected most of it. He knew what he wanted to be remembered on this occasion.

"Honored Wizengamot, esteemed guests. I stand here, in front of you, with my best friend Hermione, the two youngest holders of the Order of Merlin in history. There is much I could, much I probably should say here. About our country, our world, our deeds and failures. What we did to earn this honor.

I will not, though. I stand here to ask you all to remember the Dark Lord's victims. Those who are not alive, or not able to enjoy this occasion. To remember those lives taken from us, destroyed, by his and his followers' ambition, greed and hatred. To remember them, and promise their souls that we'll never let such horrors happen again, to anyone. Thank you."

He stepped back to Hermione's side, who was smiling at him. After a few seconds, the audience started to applaud, some even cheered, though the general mood remained more somber. Harry was pleased. Maybe this time Wizarding Britain would not forget the cost of what they were celebrating.

A reception in the Ministry's atrium followed the ceremony. Elves served finger food and various beverages while guests mingled. Harry noticed that the statue in the atrium had been repaired and looked exactly like it had looked before they had used it as cover in their fight with Voldemort. Hermione, as was to be expected, scowled at the display. He patted her shoulder.

After a almost never ending parade of Wizengamot members, foreign and domestic dignitaries, and people claiming to have known his parents he had never met before, all of them personally thanking and congratulating them, Harry and Hermione finally found themselves alone with their friends from Hogwarts. Probably thanks to some intervention by Dumbledore - Harry had caught the Headmaster's smile when the four students had approached them, before the wizard had joined Fudge in some discussion.

"Mate!" Ron clapped him on the shoulder. "Great speech. Mum got all teary-eyed, but great!"

Harry smiled at Ron. His mate meant well, but he didn't get his point. Hermione cut in "I would have prefered that the occasion would have been used to raise awareness of what brought us to this point, but remembering the costs of past mistakes was a good idea as well."

That was met with general agreement. Ginny, Neville and Luna congratulated them, followed belatedly by Ron. An elf came by, offering more food and drinks. Everyone grabbed some, Ron a bit more. The redhead swallowed a fried shrimp, then grabbed a floating sandwich. "So, when will you be back at Hogwarts? Your bed's ready, and everyone is dying to know just how you killed Voldemort! And with Snape gone we actually have a decent potions teacher, Slughorn. He is head of House Slytherin, but he doesn't favor the snakes. I am telling you, mate, it's perfect now."

Harry froze for a second. He should have expected that. He exchanged a glance with Hermione. Time to drop the bomb. "We're not returning." Everyone but Hermione froze, then started to talk at the same time.

"You're not?"

"Why?"

"What?"

"It's not Wrackspurts."

Harry raised his hands. "Guys. Guys." he waited for them to calm down some, especially Ron. "We can't return to Hogwarts. Hermione is still Spygirl. First time someone tries to hex or prank her, there'll be blood. And you know someone will try - Slytherin or Gryffindor." Hermione nodded.

"But… but… if you don't have a muggle weapon, then you'll be fine." Ron tried to argue. He had a point, Harry had to admit.

"Would you give up your wand to attend Hogwarts, Ron?" Hermione squeezed his hand while she addressed their friend.

"What? Of course not! What would be the point? You need your wand there."

The witch sighed. "Giving up my weapons would be the same as giving up my wand. It wouldn't be me."

"You have been living fine without them for years!"

"I wasn't Spygirl then. I have changed."

"I have changed too, mate." Harry cut in before the argument could escalate. The Ministry atrium wasn't the Gryffindor Common Room, after all. And the press was present. He noticed Ron's expression, the brief flicker of fear in his eyes. "No, I am not like Hermione." Ron relaxed. "But I realized that Hogwarts isn't be home for me, not anymore." Harry pulled Hermione into a one-armed embrace. "I want to be with her, with all of her. And I wouldn't be able to at Hogwarts."

Ron stared at him as if Harry had just told him he was banned from playing, watching and talking about Quidditch. "Blimey, Mate. You are serious." Neville was silent, but seemed to understand, Ginny was rubbing her eyes, and Luna was smiling.

Harry resisted to urge to look around where Sirius was and point at his godfather. "Yes I am."

"What will you do? Go to Durmstrang or Beauxbatons?"

"No. We'll be privately tutored in the various magical subjects, and also be trained in muggle subjects. I've drawn up a preliminary schedule for the two of us." Hermione started to explain, but Ron held up a hand.

"Ah… will we see you again? I mean…"

"Of course. We're not leaving the Magical World." Harry assured him, adding silently 'not completely'. "We're just being home schooled, so to speak. We'll visit during every vacation, as before." That seemed to reassure Ron and the others some. Not that Luna seemed to need such reassurances, she was the only one of their friends who seemed happy at the news.

The group broke up soon after that, with reassurances of future meetings, vacations, and letter exchanges. Harry knew they'd do all that, but he also knew that he had grown apart from his friends. Except Hermione, of course. It didn't hurt as much as he had expected.

They were looking for Sirius when Harry spotted Dumbledore making his way towards them. The old wizard looked sad again, and Harry realized why his friends had been allowed to leave Hogwarts for this occasion. Judging from the way Hermione's lips thinned, she had figured it out as well.

"Harry. Miss Granger. Are you leaving already?"

"Headmaster. Indeed, we are."

Dumbledore glanced briefly over to where Neville and Ron were talking with Ginny and Luna.

"I see." After a short pause he added. "My door is always open should you have a question your future tutors cannot answer."

"Thank you for your generous offer, Headmaster. We'll be sure to take advantage of it, should the need arise." Hermione smiled at the wizard. Harry wasn't sure the offer had been aimed at her as well, but Dumbledore certainly wouldn't retract it now. He stared at the couple for a moment, his expression unreadable. Harry met his eyes, with a bland expression.

"Good evening, Sir." They shook hands, and the old wizard went back to mingling with his fellow movers and shakers of Wizarding Britain.

Harry wrapped an arm around Hermione's waist and looked at the reception, then at the statue again.

"Time to leave."

Epilogue: Five years later

"One man on the roof. No one else visible." Mister Granger's - Gabriel's - voice was calm and professional.

"Or invisible." Sirius' was neither. He sounded excited. Even after three years of doing this, the wizard treated it as a game - 'the spy game', he called it.

Mrs Granger - Ellen - didn't say anything. She was aiming her rifle. All three were 400 meters away from the mansion they were observing.

"Copy. We're at the wardline, port-a-tunnel ready." Harry answered through the communication crystal stuck on his ear. Next to him Hermione was ready with her invention - a simple device that created a 1 meter wide tunnel deep enough to go under most ward lines. All of them - the Grangers, Sirius and the Potters - were wearing skin tight spysuits enchanted with adaptive camouflage and much higher tensile strength one would credit the fabric with. Enough to stop most bullets and other weapons. It also looked great on Hermione, Harry thought each time he saw her donning it. Or removing it. A vest offered enough enchanted pockets to carry a truckload of gear with them and additional protection.

Harry looked at the mansion in front of them. He could barely make out the figure on the roof. Inside they knew a would-be Dark Lord was preparing to sacrifice his captives in a ritual meant to boost his power. Hermione was sure it would fail, she had studied the research material the Department of Magical Law Enforcement had secured in a raid, but that wouldn't help the victims. They would help them though. They would do it even if the Department of Mysteries wasn't paying them to deal with the latest "potential problem" in Britain, but the money and favors certainly didn't hurt.

Harry saw the figure on the roof drop suddenly, then heard Gabriel's verbal confirmation: "Roof guard down." Ellen had hit her mark, as usual. Hermione deployed the tunnel, which opened a shaft going down five meters, then slid down the integrated rails, landing softly on the bottom. Harry followed her down. When he hit the bottom his wife had already started to crawl through the tunnel. They had a lot of practise at that. He speed-crawled after her, appreciating the view. The tunnel couldn't be much wider for structural reasons, or so Hermione had explained to him.

They reached the other end, another shaft, and climbed up using the grips provided there, then closed the tunnel after activating the suit's camouflage. It was a sort of magical chameleon effect, working differently than a cloak of invisibility, but providing similar concealment. Hermione cared about the mechanics, unsurprisingly since she had created it. Harry only cared about the fact that it worked. And that creating it made his wife happy.

Both spies arrived at the mansion's wall, using gecko-gloves and boots to climb up to the first story window. A quick flick of Harry's wand had it open, and they slid inside.

"We're inside. Moving to the basement now." Harry informed the three members of the team waiting outside. Hermione was already moving towards the stairs, wand and pistol out. Harry followed, his own magically silenced HK Mk23 appearing in his right hand. He had learned to shoot well, in the years since they had left Hogwarts. Hermione was better with guns, though that didn't mean much seeing her Spygirl skills. Harry still took pride in the fact that he was still a bit better with magic in combat even though she had finally learned to use a wand as Spygirl.

They reached the stairs - no elevators in this house. Harry wished they had managed to complete the "Travel Map Project", Hermione's attempt to replicate the Marauder's Map, adjusted so it worked anywhere. It would come in really handy right now, but so far she hadn't succeeded even with Sirius' help, and with Remus', when the werewolf could slip away from his wife and children.

There was no one on the stairs, but someone was in the entrance hall. Dark robe, long hair, bored expression, and now a hole in his head courtesy of Hermione. He dropped to the floor with a dull thud without ever having seen who killed him. They could have stunned him, but the DoM wanted the Dark Lord and his followers disappeared. Seeing what they had done to a couple of muggle girls, and were planning to do to more girls, Harry was happy to oblige.

A few years ago it would have bothered him, but working as a freelance agent, usually for the Prime Minister or the Department of Mysteries, he had seen too much, done too much to care much about murderers anymore. Hermione of course understood that. Her parents too - they were glad, Harry knew, to be 'back in the game'. Sirius claimed he needed 'the spy game' to endure his time in the Wizengamot. Even with a few key 'accidents' happening to particularly loathsome members of that body, trying to push reforms through was a chore which could drive even a saint to violence, or so Sirius stated everytime he returned from a session.

His godfather also always tried to persuade Harry to get a seat as well, 'to share the misery', but Harry was happy with his cover job as a seeker for the Chudley Cannons. The team was so bad, even if he missed a game or two due to a mission, they would not fire the only player able to win a game for them. Apart from the supporters of the Cannons all Quidditch fans thought he was wasting his talents though, and often voiced those thoughts quite vehemently. Harry had the last letter from Viktor Krum framed, a masterpiece of passionate pleading. Ron of course was ecstatic about Harry's cover job - the Cannons had won games for the first time in decades.

"We're at the entrance to the basement now. One enemy down in the entrance hall." Hermione opened the door with a silent alohomora, then went inside, gun and wand out. Her cover job as a "private researcher" was not questioned by anyone of course, even though what she published was, at best, a quarter of what she actually did. Although her "Study about the effects of inbreeding on magical capability" certainly had done more for the reform cause than any bribe from Sirius, at least after the Department of Mysteries had validated it following another covert mission done for the Unspeakables.

Harry and Hermione went down a twisting stairway, illuminated by pale blue gaslights that made the two of them appear sickly. Or would have, if not for the fact that their faces were covered with enchanted goggles and a mask.

They discovered a sturdy door at the end of the stairs. "No chanting yet or screaming - they haven't started yet." Harry commented, after checking for privacy spells.

"They would have been suicidal if they had. If they started before midnight, the ritual would fail spectacularly." Hermione answered.

"Spectacularly?"

"Think crater."

"Ah."

"Ready?"

"Yes."

Hermione opened the door with a reducto, revealing a big room with thirteen startled robed men and women standing around what looked like a marble altar. At the back were three cages, hanging from chains, with a frightened, probably silenced girl in each. Harry noted two more doors in the room, and a big cauldron to the side, which reminded him of the ritual in the graveyard in Little Hangleton.

He and Hermione were already shooting and casting. Hermione killed the two closest to the cages with headshots while diving to the side. Harry sidestepped, cutting one dark wizard in two with a sectumsempra. He shot at the apparent leader - he wore a red robe instead of the black ones everyone else wore - but his bullets were stopped by a glowing blue shield. Not a total amateur then.

Harry dodged a salvo of badly aimed spells - more dangerous due to the scattershot effect that produced - and stopped the leader's killing curse with a quickly conjured stone wall. Hermione, so far unopposed, took out two more wizards with headshots, then threw a flash-bang grenade. The couple's enchanted goggles protected them, but their enemies were blinded and a few were stunned long enough for Harry and Hermione to kill half a dozen more. Two and the leader were left.

And there he ran! As Harry expected the leader tried to escape, sacrificing his underlings and trusting his shield to protect him. Harry turned the floor under the man's feet into frictionless ice, and watched him slide into the wall. That disoriented the man long enough for Harry to break through his shield and nail him with a piercing curse through the shoulder that rendered his wand arm useless. A stunner and body bind curse took him down while he was trying to grab for his wand with his other hand.

Hermione had hit the remaining robed wizards with a volley of stunners. She'd be sifting through their minds to see if there were more of them in the mansion while Harry went over to the captives in the cages.

Harry briefly checked them for injuries and spells. All three flinched away from his wand, no surprise there. Muggles, judging by their dirty, ripped clothes. "You're safe now, we're with the government." he stated, trying to calm them down, though with limited success. "Overwatch, we have taken down the leader and secured the captives."

"Copy. No change outside."

"According to our prisoners all enemies are accounted for." Hermione reported. Harry didn't hear her magically silenced pistol fire, only the impacts of the bullets. He opened the cages and helped the girls out while Hermione transfigured the captured leader into a small stone figure and dropped it in her pocket.

"Inform the DoM that they can come to clean up." Harry stated through the crystal, then sent the three girls to sleep. The Department of Mysteries would handle them as well. They'd wake up, obliviated of the magic parts, thinking they had been kidnapped by a gang.

He turned around, and saw Hermione taking a sample from the cauldron. Ever the researcher. He smiled under his mask. "Let's go, love." Hermione glanced at him, then at the altar, nodding. "I'll study the set up in our pensieve later."

By the time they left the mansion the Unspeakables had arrived. Both the masked agents and the masked wizards nodded at each other as they met at the door. "One man on the roof, one in the entrance hall, a dozen in the basement. Three muggle victims, alive and sleeping." Harry stated, his voice changed, probably with the same enchantment the Unspeakables used.

Hermione pulled the transfigured leader out of her pocket, then undid her spell. "One slightly wounded Dark Lord candidate." The leader of the hooded wizards nodded, and transfigured the man again. The wards were down now, courtesy of the Unspeakables, so Harry and Hermione simply apparated away to their designated rally spot. they took Hermione's parents, and randomly apparated around to throw off pursuit, then back to No 12 Grimmauld Place.

As soon as they had arrived Harry pulled his goggles and mask off. As comfortable as the set up was thanks to magic he still felt relieved. Hermione did the same, shaking her long hair out, then grabbed him for a passionate kiss. Successful missions always got her in a frisky mood. She wasn't the only one - Ellen had the same glint in her eyes Hermione had, and was pulling her husband away. The Grangers had their own room, or suite, here, but were headed towards the floo to return to their home.

Sirius was shaking his head. "Youth today! How impatient! In my time, we did things differently." Hermione stuck her tongue out at him. "Oh, shut up, you old dog!" she chided him. Harry grinned - he knew Sirius would hit Diagon Alley, looking for some pretty girl he could charm, as soon as he had changed his clothes into something more presentable. Laughing, the older wizard went off, leaving them alone.

Harry pulled Hermione into his arms. Marrying her had been the best thing he had done, bar none. He was not alone with that opinion. Coverage of their wedding last year had accounted for half the year's profit of Witch Weekly, if those rumors could be trusted. This year the magazine was speculating about a possible pregnancy each time Hermione made an appearance in public. Not that that would happen anytime soon, Harry knew. Hermione didn't want to have children too soon. He was glad for that, since they were not ready for kids - he had seen Hermione's detailed education plan for their future kids. Her idea of "adequate self-defense training" needed a lot of adjustments yet.

Hermione smiled up at him, licking her lips, and Harry stopped thinking for a while. They were still kissing when their clothes started to drop to the floor.