“I love your toes.”
Hermione blinked. And blinked again. “I beg your pardon?”
Harry smiled mischievously. “You heard me Granger. I said that I loved your toes.” He then continued to stare at said body part.
She rolled her eyes and pulled her legs beneath her body.
“Hey!” He exclaimed, pouting miserably. “I was admiring those!”
“Sweetheart,” she said, looking at him straight in the eye, “Much as I’d love to display my onkeybats for you to admire and to fantasize about covering in chocolate sauce or sticking in pumpkin mush—”
His eyes brightened. “There’s an idea!”
“—I can’t concentrate, much less finish grading these papers, unless you stop, all right?”
He sighed and crawled up the bed to a place behind her. To her surprise, he started prying her feet from underneath her.
She gasped and tried to look stern although a giggle escaped her. “Harry, what on earth has gotten into you? What’s with the sudden interest in my toes?”
“It’s not sudden!” He made her stretch out her slim legs and he rubbed her ankles thoughtfully. “I’ve always loved your toes. They’re so formed and well proportioned and cute…”
She threw her head back in laughter, her neck resting on the slope of his shoulder. “I can’t believe you’re talking about my toes!”
“I think they’re very attractive toes…”
He wrapped his arms around her waist and she snuggled into him, her hands resting on top of his.
“… whereas your fingers are short and stumpy and not very charming.”
Abruptly, she turned to look at him and saw him shaking in repressed laughter.
“Oh, you are so sleeping on the couch tonight.” She tried to wriggle out of his embrace. Laughing, he held her even tighter and refused to let her budge.
“I’m just kidding honey!” He took her hand in his and lifted it to his mouth and kissed it tenderly. She melted and relaxed against him again.
“You know I love your fingers as well. Your delicate, gentle, albeit naughty fingers, but your fingers just the same.”
“You’re one to talk about naughty fingers Potter.”
“Moi?” He managed to say with utmost innocence on his face. “Naughty? Perish the mere thought!”
She sighed complacently. “I love you Harry. You and your odd observation habits.”
“And I love you Hermione.” He started placing feathery kisses on the nape of her neck and rubbing her stomach. Her breath caught in her throat and she closed her eyes.
“Well then,” she stammered, “It doesn’t seem like I’ll be getting much work done tonight.”
He mumbled a “Dun’ think so” against her skin. She shivered.
“Probably could just put it off ‘til tomorrow.”
“Best you do.”
“I guess I could just tell my students that I’ll give them back their papers on Thursday.”
“You do that.”
She nodded. “That’s settled.” She turned around abruptly, ready to snog him like a hormone-driven schoolgirl, to find that Harry was already standing beside the bed, shoving his feet into his slippers.
“Where are you going?” She was slightly annoyed that he stopped so suddenly.
“I’m Apparating to the market,” he said, in a You-Should-Know-Why tone.
She raised her eyebrows. “And why will you be Apparating to the market?”
He rolled his eyes at her. “To get the pumpkins for the pumpkin mush you’re going to put your toes in.”
She stared at him open-mouthed. “You’re not serious about that Harry!”
“Would you have preferred the chocolate sauce?”
He nodded sagely. “You’re right. I should get both.”
“Harry, you are insane!”
“Pumpkin mush and chocolate sauce wouldn’t mix though.”
She burst out giggling. “Would you stop?”
“I’ll make pumpkin mush for one foot and chocolate sauce for the other! How does that sound?”
She shook her head, amused. “You’re just going to dunk my toes into pumpkin mush and chocolate sauce and stare at the big mess you’ve created?”
He looked horrified. “Of course not Hermione!” A sudden, impish smile appeared on his handsome face.
“I always clean up my messes.”