Cedric could hear Hermione humming off-key from the other room when he woke up. The sheets smelled of Hermione and sex, and he considered staying in bed just to have that heady aroma around him all day. However, a glance at the clock confirmed that it was late morning so he knew he’d better get up before she came in and scolded him.

After all, a scolding from Hermione would just end up arousing him, which would irritate her, which would lead to bickering, which would lead to shagging, which would lead to snuggles and a good nap, which would lead to him lying in sex-scented sheets not wanting to get out of bed. It really was just a perpetual cycle, he decided with a crooked smile. Perhaps he’d share his realization with Hermione over the breakfast she was attempting to cook.

Oh bugger. She was trying to cook. That caused Cedric to groan and reluctantly roll out of bed. She’d end up burning the kitchen down or filling it with smoke if she tried to make toast or fry meat. Hermione was excellent at a variety of things, from Arithmancy to that amazing curling thing she did with her tongue when he was---Right, focus Diggory. Despite her mastery of many, many subjects, she was pants at flying and cooking.

He found it rather endearing that she could lecture on the properties of mandrake but couldn’t fry an egg to save her life. Fortunately, his mother had made sure he could cook when he was young or else they might starve. He stretched when he stood up, scratching his back as he forced himself to fully wake up and resisted the urge to crawl back into bed until she came looking for him.

This was the first time he’d stayed all night and he couldn’t help feeling like it meant something. Of course, he’d been accused of being a soppy romantic by the practical girl he’d fallen in love with so he doubted Hermione thought anything of it. They’d been dating for six months, intimate for three, and he’d said I love you last week. His declaration hadn’t been met with reciprocation, however. Instead, she’d flushed and gaped and did that nervous thing with her hands and her shirt before she’d acted as if he’d not said a word.

He hadn’t expected her to say it back, honestly, but he had to admit that he’d hoped she would. She was too guarded about things and rarely discussed emotions like most women. Cedric was thrilled that she wasn’t like everyone else, but there were times it got frustrating since he couldn’t predict her behavior. One of the things that attracted him most, though, was the challenge that came from loving Hermione Granger so he grumbled to himself a bit but then realized how bloody lucky he was to have run into her again.

After he woke up enough to function properly, he found his pants under her chair, where they must have been thrown as they’d hurriedly undressed last night, and pulled them on. While he had no issues with walking around nude, Hermione was still somewhat shy about nudity outside the bedroom or when it wasn’t involved in shagging. Cedric grinned as he left her bedroom and crossed the small hall to her loo. She’d asked him to stay the night, which was pathetically enough to make him feel as if he could face a dragon again, and now they were going to make breakfast together. It wasn’t all that he wanted from her and their relationship, but it was a bloody good next step.

He couldn’t see the kitchen from the hall, but her humming was louder and he had to add musical ability to the small list of areas that she hadn’t mastered. She was happy, obviously, and that made his shoulders straighten just a little bit more and he might possibly have been preening, though he’d denied it if questioned. Twenty-seven year old men do not preen, after all.

When he entered the loo, he used the toilet and then washed his hands. He considered a shower because, really, sleeping in sex-scented sheets meant sleeping in sex-wet and sweaty sheets, which didn’t leave his body feeling too clean. He reached into her shower and touched the wall, noting that it was dry. She hadn’t showered yet, which meant they could possibly share one after breakfast. Just to preserve water, of course.

It was with little guilt that he began to build a case to support the notion of showering together. While there was a chance she’d agree without any coercion, he knew she might stubbornly refuse just because their relationship was wonderfully complicated and layered and, well, they liked to bicker about the stupidest things. He loved when her face got flushed from anger and she tapped her foot just enough to show her displeasure and especially when her full lips curved into that annoyed pout that usually made him forget what they were bickering about in the first place.

He turned on the tap and grabbed a dry flannel from the small linen cabinet. He wouldn’t shower but he did need to wash up before he saw her. When he stood in front of her wash basin, something green caught his attention. It was a new toothbrush, he realized. Normally, that wouldn’t be a cause for his stare, but her toothbrush was blue and nestled in the cup beside the new green one. Green was his favorite color. He felt like an idiot when he hesitantly reached towards it and picked it up.

It was a brand new green toothbrush that hadn’t been there when he came over for dinner and a movie on Wednesday. Three days ago, the cup just held her lonely blue toothbrush. Cedric tried to tell himself that it probably meant nothing, but this was Hermione and he couldn’t help feeling that this actually meant everything. Without taking time to brush his teeth, he turned off the tap and left the loo. He was still holding the green toothbrush when he walked through her sitting room and arrived at the small kitchen.

She was frowning at the eggs, two of which seemed to have been cracked open with a hammer and had bits of shell all in the mix. When she heard him, she looked up and smiled a shy half-smile. “Good morning,” she murmured, looking so beautiful to him that he honestly thought his breath might have stopped for a moment. All right, so maybe her accusations of him being a soppy romantic weren’t completely unfounded. She suddenly blushed a lovely shade of pink when she noticed the toothbrush he was holding and he had all the answers that he needed.

He looked from it to her and slowly smiled. He crossed the kitchen and put his fingers against her lips before she could stammer or get embarrassed. “Good morning, Hermione.” His voice was low and husky, and she sighed softly against his fingers. He traced her lips and grinned as he looked down at her. He set the toothbrush on the table before he pulled her into his arms. As he lowered his head, he whispered, “I love you, too.”

End