Arrete!" Fleur whispered, glancing back towards the entrance to the kitchen.
Hermione stopped, then looked back at the French witch and asked an unvoiced question with her eyes.
"Ronald?" Molly bellowed. "What are you doing up there?"
Fleur smiled as she heard the sound of heavy footsteps on the stairs.
"So, Harry…why the reaction now?" she asked.
"What?" he asked.
"Oh, 'Arry…eet ees just us, n'est-ce pas?" Fleur asked.
"It should be 'Oh, Harry it is just us', and you don't need that last part," he replied.
"Can somebody start explaining what's going?" Hermione hissed.
Fleur nodded as she pulled Hermione towards the couch, spun Harry around, and pointed.
He let out a groan of frustration, deciding there was no point in covering his tent with his hands.
"It wasn't anything that you said, Fleur," he insisted. "It was Molly."
Hermione snorted. "Did you just hear what you just said?"
Harry replayed his statement in his head, then rolled his eyes.
"Thanks, Hermione," he whined. He fell back onto the couch, gestured towards his waist, and said, "You just took care of that problem."
"Erm…okay?"
"What I said was true…it's just not as bad as it sounds," he explained, rubbing the bridge of his nose in frustration. "Molly told us to go do it in the sitting room."
"So…"
"So that got me thinking about how you 'did it' in the sitting room on my first night here."
Hermione started to blush, then decided she really had no reason to do so. Instead, she smiled.
"So that's what got you hard, Harry?" she whispered. "Nothing to do with Fleur's question?"
"Zat ees exactly what my nose sez, 'Ermione."
"You mean that is exactly what your nose says," said Harry.
"Sorry…eet ees hard for me to concentrate on zee words when…"
The sounds of Molly's bellowing drifted into the room, as she demanded that her son open up the bathroom door.
"Yeah, I know what you mean," Harry quipped, shaking his head in amazement at what had all just happened. "Why do you think that she let that question be asked?"
Fleur shrugged. "I do not presume to know what goes on eenside 'er 'ead."
Hermione looked at Harry, then at her roommate, then back towards the kitchen.
"Can we worry about that later?" she whispered. "And Fleur…would you mind watching that door for a minute?"
"Bien sur!" the French witch said with a wink.
The Muggleborn witch shot Harry a predatory smile as Fleur walked across the room to stand guard.
Harry arched an eyebrow.
"I think you should be rewarded for passing that boyfriend test…don't you?" she asked.
Harry chuckled and shrugged. "If it was a matter of skin…saw far more of Fleur on the beach then I just did in the kitchen, didn't I?"
Hermione shook her head in disbelief.
"Are you saying that you don't want your reward?"
"Oh, erm, no…rewards are good!" Harry whispered.
"Good," said Hermione, as dropped her knees onto the couch cushions and straddled his hips.
Harry gasped while she squirmed and ground against his lap. Looking nervously over Hermione's shoulder, he said, "Maybe that's not a…. Fleur's not there?"
Hermione looked over her shoulder…then let out a sigh…then slipped off Harry's lap.
"I suppose," she whined, as she sat down next to her boyfriend and scooted to create some distance.
A few moments later Fleur re-entered the sitting room with a satisfied smile on her face.
"Now you two should have more zan a few minutes," she said, leaning back against the threshold.
"Now?" Hermione asked. "What did you just…?"
"Please don't ask her that," Harry begged, mentally cringing at the possibilities.
Hermione thought for a moment, then decided that was a reasonable request. Then she stopped all of Harry's mental cringing in its tracks by swinging her leg back over his lap and settling down.
"Comfortable?" he asked.
"Erm…yes," she replied, squirming against his thighs just to be sure. The Muggleborn witch then smiled as she reached out and tussled Harry's hair.
"You never actually answered the question, did you?"
"What questi…oh, right," he replied. "Didn't think I needed to."
"Why's that?"
"Are you serious?"
Hermione snorted. "Humor me, Harry."
"Fine…I've delegated the task of answering that question to my liegeman."
"Good answer," Hermione whispered, as she leaned forward and placed a tender kiss on his lips.
After a short while, she pulled back, and asked, "So, will Bill answer that question for whenever any girl asks if her tits are too big…or just when Fleur asks?"
Harry smiled, and replied, "Just Fleur."
"Another good answer!" Hermione whispered. She then leaned back, and ripped open the front of her robes.
The distinctive sound created when strips of Muggle Velcro are separated was heard by Harry's ears, but not recognized for what it was until much, much later. His eyes (and most of his higher brain functions) had zeroed in on the lace-trimmed bra that Hermione had just exposed underneath her robes.
She shimmied, then coyly asked, "So, Harry…do you think that mytits are too big?"
Her boyfriend chuckled, showing no caution at all as he leaned forward to examine the evidence.
"They look just the right size to me," he replied. "Although…."
"Yes, Harry?"
"You've always encouraged me to review my assignments and revise as necessary, right?"
Hermione giggled, and risked a glance back over her shoulder. Fleur was still was giving the couple a "thumbs up" sign.
"Would you like to gather tactile evidence to test that hypothesis?" she asked, running fingers through her boyfriend's hair.
"Huh?"
Hermione chuckled as she pushed Harry's head back, then pulled Harry's hands forward, towards her chest.
"Why don't you feel if my tits are too big?" she asked.
Harry snorted. "Language, sweetheart."
"Really?"
"No…it's just that…what happened to the clinical language?"
Hermione rolled her eyes.
"Do you want to debate me, Harry…or fondle me?"
That was a silly question.
For forty-five glorious seconds, they snogged, he groped, and she ground down on his lap.
"Fais gaffe!"
Hermione gasped when she heard Fleur's warning, and immediately bounced off of the couch. After quickly tucking herself back in, she Velcro'ed herself back up. Harry, meanwhile, was desperately trying to readjust his robes. By the time he decided that he'd done the best he could do, he looked up and noticed that Hermione had moved to the far corner of the room, and was now sitting on a high-backed chair.
She smiled, leaned forward, and cleared her throat.
"So, Harry…your job is to engage Fleur in conversation that will force her into using some of those words that she has problems with in a natural setting."
The-Boy-Who-Lived nodded as he watched Fleur pull out her wand, cross the room towards Hermione, and cast a whispered charm towards her.
"Praetego!"
"Do you see what I'm thinking, Harry?" Hermione then asked.
The teen-aged wizard snorted at the double entendre…Fleur's spell work had smoothed out the perky points in the front of Hermione's robes.
"Yes, I do," he replied, even while his head was shaking "No."
Harry glanced towards the empty doorway, then gestured towards his crotch.
Fleur giggled as she quietly padded across the room, cast a second Praetego charm, then plopped down onto the couch next to him.
Molly entered room a few moments later and frowned as she looked around.
"Is everything okay?"
"Yes, Mrs. Weasley," the three droned.
The matriarch turned towards Hermione and asked, "What are you doing over there?"
The Muggleborn witch smiled as she ran her fingers down the length of one of the chair arms.
"I didn't want to be a distraction," she explained. Hermione then turned her attention to Fleur and asked, "Ready for some more warm-up exercises?"
"Oui!"
"You mean 'yes'," Harry corrected.
"Ah…yes. Thank you...Harry."
"Repeat after me, then," said Hermione. "It is hot today, Harry…isn't it?"
Fleur smiled, and repeated the phrase. She then recited generic statements about happy housewives, big wigs, and thorny thickets.
Molly watched the back and forth for a few moments, then grew bored and retreated into the kitchen. Hermione gave the other two teens a big "thumbs-up" gesture once she was out of the matriarch's field of view.
"Alright, let's do one last exercise that combines the different sounds," the Muggleborn instructed.
"Okay," said Fleur.
Hermione smiled seductively as she lifted one of her legs over the arm of her chair and leaned back against the cushion. "Listen carefully," she said, slowly dragging the heel of one hand from her shoulder, across her chest, then down into her lap.
"Harry, do you think that this is where Hermione was sitting that night?"
Harry sucked in a sharp breath when he heard his girlfriend ask the question-slash-confession. At that same moment, Fleur was holding in a deep breath, so that she didn't give up the game to Molly by laughing out loud.
"'Arry?" the French witch asked.
"It's Harry," he mumbled.
"Sorry…so, Harry…do you think that this is where 'Ermione was sitting zat night?"
"Erm, no," he replied, watching Hermione nod her head vigorously.
"No?"
"No, erm…Fleur…that is where Hermione was sitting that night."
"That's right, Harry," teased Hermione. "This. Is. Where."
The sound of pots and pans clanking against each other in the kitchen caught the Muggleborn's attention. She quickly pulled her leg back, sat up straight, and schooled her facial expression.
Harry sat up as well. Then he readjusted the position of the tent pole that no one else could see, so that he might relieve some of the uncomfortable pressure that no one else could feel.