Hermione froze in his arms, pulling back to look up at him. The smell of roses very nearly overwhelmed her cherry and almond scent, but it still came through strongly as he leaned forward, resting his forehead against hers with his eyes closed. She didn't say anything for several long moments, and he found himself slowly building up a wall in his mind, readying himself for her rejection, her terror at being pushed too far, too fast. It was too much, too early, he knew. They were too young, the future entirely too uncertain.