This is a real life one-shot, small spoilers from The Half Blood Prince but nothing major.

This is a one-shot set in real life where you are the actor casted to play Y/N in the movies. You're filming The Half-Blood Prince where you and Emma Watson have to film an intimate scene. Chapter reference is The Half-Blood Prince chapter 5 (Undercover in The Muggle World) and chapter 6 (A Night To Remember).

Just to avoid complications, Y/N is your real-life actor name. Y/C/N is your character's name in the movies. Requested by: joplinslilbaby

Y/N's POV

On that fateful day, I auditioned for Harry Potter. I nearly skipped the audition altogether, deeming it a waste of time, I was never going to get it. However, my parents encouraged me to give a go - after all what was the worst that could happen?

I loved the books, so when the opportunity to play Y/C/N appeared, it would have been foolish for me not to take it. It was my chance to be part of that world.

Two weeks after I got the call. I got the role. I was going to play Y/C/N.

And from there, everything changed.

My character, he was complex for sure. Not only did he battle with major familial issues, it seemed as though he couldn't really catch a break in the books. His development was insane, and I knew it was going to be a real challenge playing him and bringing him to life on the screen.

No pressure.

The first time I stepped on set, I met Emma Watson. She was playing Hermione Granger, and I knew she was Y/C/N's love interest. Their relationship was turbulent, experiencing ups and downs throughout the entire series. Their dynamic was like fire and ice and their chemistry was supposed to leap off the screen.

Well, I guess it wasn't ideal then when I couldn't stand her at first.

Emma was incredibly organised, very logical and sometimes rather uptight. I, however, enjoyed spontaneity, mischief and chaos. She was always pointing out ways I could've portrayed my character better, like a teacher - even though I was older than her.

What really irked me was the first scene I'd ever filmed, the one where Y/C/N ran into Hermione at Diagon Alley in The Philosopher's Stone. As soon as the director yelled cut, she approached me, giving me a handful of pointers that critiqued my acting.

What a load of crap. And what a way to make a bad first impression.

From then on, Emma and I clashed. It was never anything major - just stupid little things. She thought I was unprofessional for ad-libbing lines; I thought she was uptight for sticking to the script. She'd correct me if I missed a blocking mark, and I'd call her a know-it-all.

By the time we finished filming The Order of the Phoenix, we'd established a pattern: bicker, argue, avoid each other, repeat.

Our castmates found it hilarious.

"You two are insufferable," Rupert said once, shaking his head as Emma and I sniped at each other during lunch. "It's like watching a really bad rom-com."

"It's only a matter of time before they snog," Tom added with a smirk. "They're just too proud to admit they like each other."

That was ridiculous, of course. Whilst, objectively, Emma was very good looking, she got under my skin like no one else. There was no way I liked her.

But by the time we started filming The Half-Blood Prince, things had shifted. I don't know when exactly it happened - but ever since that conversation at lunch, things felt different. Screw my cast mates for getting into my head.

We still bickered, of course. But the line between love and hate was starting to blur, and I wasn't sure which side I was on anymore.

"Alright, settle down, everyone!" Rupert said, grinning as he plopped his tray onto the table. We were sitting in the canteen, the six of us: Rupert, Daniel, Tom, Bonnie, Emma, and me. We had just started filming the sixth film of the series.

"So," Rupert said, turning to me and Emma, "big scene today, huh?"

I groaned. "Don't remind me."

"Intense, isn't it?" Daniel said, wiggling his eyebrows. "Y/C/N and Hermione, making Harry Potter no longer PG friendly."

"I can't believe they kept that from the books." Bonnie exclaimed.

"The fans are going to lose their minds." Tom chimed in, clearly enjoying himself.

Emma rolled her eyes. "You lot are unbearable."

"Yeah, like you're not looking forward to it," Rupert teased, leaning back in his chair. "We all know you and Y/N have been waiting for this moment your whole lives."

I scoffed. "Absolutely not, I'd rather jump off a cliff then have to film this scene with Watson."

"Precisely," she agreed, "I can't wait to get it done quickly and fully disinfect myself in the shower after."

"That's if you can get it done in one take," I muttered, "doubtful considering no scene is ever perfect enough for the Emma Watson."

She looked at me. "Maybe I just need a better co-star."

Bonnie looked between the two of us. "Just get married already. All this tension is killing me!"

We both turned to her at the same time. "Absolutely not!"

After lunch, I went through my lines in my trailer before we headed onto set to film the scene. It was Y/C/N and Hermione's date at the funfair. The plan was to be done with this scene quickly and then get the... other scene over and done with.

It just hit me like a train.

I had to film a sex scene with Emma Watson.

Granted, we wouldn't actually have to do it. But it was still really bloody weird.

But why was a part of me excited? I had kissed Emma many times for our characters, and up until recently I felt nothing.

But recently...part of me felt something.

It was awful. I couldn't imagine a world where I liked Emma Watson. She was annoying. She annoyed me, I annoyed her, that was how our dynamic worked.

The scene started simple enough. Y/C/N meets Hermione at the Underground, and she drags him onto the train. Emma and I filmed the part where she explains Muggle transportation, her usual confident tone matching Hermione's enthusiasm.

"Think of it like the Hogwarts Express, but faster," she said for the fourth time.

I couldn't help myself. "Except it's louder, uglier, and smells like feet."

"Cut!" the director called, exasperated but amused. "Can we try sticking to the script for this one, please?"

Emma rolled her eyes at me as we reset for another take. "You're impossible."

"And you love it," I shot back.

She didn't respond, just turned away with a small, involuntary smile, one that made my stomach flip.

When we got to the part where Hermione drags Y/C/N to the fair, Emma's energy was relentless. I followed her lead as she bounced around the rides, pointing out fake cotton candy vendors and stuffed animals. The camera tracked us as we boarded a spinning ride together, and I held onto the bars with exaggerated fear while Emma laughed beside me.

"You're supposed to be having fun, Y/C/N!" she shouted over the clatter of the ride.

"I don't think I'm built for this Muggle insanity!" I yelled back, gripping the bar for dear life.

Once the ride stopped spinning, Emma and I stumbled off, pretending to be dizzy. She shoved me lightly as the camera rolled on, improvising as Hermione. "Oh, stop being so dramatic!"

"I'll stop when I don't feel like I'm about to throw up," I shot back, brushing myself off.

The next part of the scene was at the basketball game stall. I had to make three shots in a row, which sounded easy until you factored in my complete lack of coordination. After about twenty takes of me missing every shot, Emma finally burst into laughter.

"You're useless," she teased.

Miraculously, I managed the scene after several more takes as I handed Emma her stuffed animal.

"Cut! Perfect!"

Emma turned to me with mock disbelief. "Finally!"

"You were rooting for me the whole time," I said, grinning.

"In your dreams," she replied, but there was no edge to her words this time.

Once we wrapped the scene, Emma and I collapsed in the chairs set up near the monitors. A production assistant handed us bottles of water, and we sat there catching our breath.

"Bet you loved dragging me around, like the control freak you are, Watson," I said, tilting my head back against the chair.

"Bet you loved pretending to hate it," she countered, smirking.

"Touché."

We sat in silence for a moment, watching as the crew reset the set for the next scene.

The intimacy scene.

Before filming the next scene, Emma and I were pulled aside to talk with the intimacy coordinators. It wasn't the first time we'd worked with them, but this time was different. This time it was being taken to a whole new level. They walked us through the choreography, explaining where we'd be, how the camera would frame us, and when the camera would cut to avoid anything too revealing.

"Are you both comfortable with this?" one of them asked, looking between us.

"Yeah, it's fine," Emma said quickly, glancing at me.

"Totally fine," I added, nodding.

The coordinators went on, outlining every movement and making sure we had clear boundaries. Emma and I exchanged glances during the explanation, I could tell we were both pretty nervous.

"So, when I reach out to take off her-" I began.

"You're not reaching out, you're awkwardly fumbling," Emma interrupted, deadpan.

"Thanks for the note, Watson. I'll make sure to fumble awkwardly when taking off your bra."

"You do that naturally," she said, giving me a sweet smile that was obviously fake. She quickly corrected herself. "Naturally fumble, not take off my bra."

I couldn't help but laugh. "Nice save, Watson."

Emma looked away, but I could tell her face was bright red.

When it was finally time to film the scene, we both fell quiet. Whatever we felt about each other off-camera didn't matter once the director yelled 'action'.

We were dressed in our costumes for the scene as I pulled Emma to the side just before. "This stuff is pretty new to me, so I'm sorry if I mess it up a couple times. I hope I don't make you feel too uncomfortable."

She gave me a surprisingly genuine smile. "Thanks, it's new to me too. Honestly, as much as you drive me up the wall, I'm somewhat glad I'm doing this with you."

I smirked. "If you have a crush on me Watson, you can just say so."

"In your dreams Y/N!"

"Alright," the director called out, clapping his hands. "Let's get ready to roll! Quiet on set!"

I looked up as Emma crossed the room to take her place on the bed, her expression carefully neutral. She avoided my eyes, smoothing out her hair as she sat down, I could sense the nervousness radiating from her.

Given the intimacy of the scene, there weren't many people on set. When the director yelled 'action!' I snapped into character. The scene started easy enough - just dialogue.

But then it started getting real. Before I knew it, Emma's lips were on mine. We were kissing and it intensified, our clothes coming off bit by bit. Luckily, the way they were shooting this scene we didn't have to get fully nude.

I would just have to take my shirt off, as the camera wasn't panning any lower than my back. As for Emma, even though I would take her bra off, she would have something underneath. My back would be covering her.

The first take was off. Me and Emma were completely out of sync when we were supposedly meant to be having sex, we just didn't work together. My fake thrusts weren't convincing enough.

"Cut!" the director said. "Guys, we need to make it look realistic. So you need to really get into it and work with each other."

Emma rubbed her temples, clearly frustrated. "I know, I know. Sorry."

"It's on me," I said quickly. "Let's just go again."

The next few takes weren't much better. One time, I completely made a mess of taking off Emma's bra, causing her to burst into laughter. Another time, my shirt got caught over my face meaning I couldn't see anything.

By the fifth take, we were both frazzled, it just wasn't working. We couldn't seem to get it right.

"You're supposed to look at me like you care," Emma muttered under her breath, fiddling with the edge of her top.

"I do care," I shot back, leaning closer so only she could hear. "Maybe if you stopped acting like kissing me is a chore-"

"I'm not acting," she snapped, "it is a chore!"

I shrugged. "Don't lie, I know you dream about this, Watson. It's your lucky day. You get to pretend-fuck me."

I don't really know what came over me to say such a bold statement. I saw her cheeks flush bright pink, she was speechless.

"Alright, reset!" the director called. "Let's try this again. The beginning is fine but we still need to film from your tops coming off onwards. It's only a few minutes, you've both got this."

The cameras rolled and I didn't think about the crew, the lighting or the thousands of people who would eventually watch this. I only thought about her.

It was strange, why was I feeling this way? Was all the hate I felt towards Emma simply a ploy to distract myself from what I was really feeling?

We were kissing and I kissed her passionately, as if she was really mine. Her hand slid into my hair, her fingers tangling in the strands and I pulled her closer, my other hand settling on her waist.

Our tops came off and suddenly I was pretend-fucking her whilst she made pretend-noises that she was pretend-enjoying it.

It all felt so real.

Why did I want it to be real?

My lips connected back to hers as my hips kept on working, embarrassingly I think I was rather turned on.

It didn't feel like acting anymore.

For a moment, there was no script, no set, no cameras. It was just us.

"Cut!" the director called.

We didn't stop.

"Cut!"

Her lips still moved against mine, slow and deliberate, like we'd been waiting for this moment for years. My heart thundered in my chest as reality crashed back in.

We broke apart, both of us breathing hard. Emma's eyes were wide, her cheeks flushed as she stared at me, her hand still on my bare chest.

"Oh," she whispered, her voice barely audible.

"Yeah," I said, equally breathless.

The crew was dead silent, everyone staring at us like they weren't sure if they'd just witnessed acting or something else entirely.

The director cleared his throat. "Well. That'll do. Moving on!"

Back in my trailer, I paced back and forth, running a hand through my hair. I couldn't stop thinking about all of it - how it felt, how real it had been.

A knock on the door startled me.

"Come in," I said, my voice cracking slightly.

Emma stepped inside, her arms crossed over her chest. She looked just as shaken as I felt.

"We need to talk," she said, her eyes darting to the floor.

"Yeah," I agreed, gesturing for her to sit. She didn't.

For a moment, we just stared at each other, the air filled with unspoken words.

"That kiss," she started, then stopped, her cheeks turning pink. "All of it...that wasn't acting, was it?"

I swallowed hard. "No. I don't think it was."

Her lips parted, like she was about to say something else, but then she just shook her head. "Goodnight, Y/N."

"Goodnight, Watson," I replied automatically, watching as she slipped out the door.

At lunch, the tension between us was palpable. Emma sat next to me, but not too close, her eyes focused intently on her sandwich. I picked at my food, acutely aware of the rest of the cast watching us like hawks.

"So," Rupert said, smirking. "How'd the big scene go yesterday?"

"It was fine," Emma said quickly, not looking up.

"Just fine?" Bonnie pressed, leaning forward with a knowing smile. "Come on, guys. You were filming all day."

"It was work," I said, trying to sound casual.

Tom snorted. "Sure it was."

Emma shot him a glare, her cheeks flaming red.

"Oh, they're hiding something," Daniel said, grinning.

"We're not hiding anything," Emma snapped, her voice just a little too defensive.

The table fell silent for a moment, and then Rupert said, "Oh, they've definitely figured it out."

"Figured what out?" Emma demanded, though her voice wavered slightly.

"That you two are into each other," Daniel said bluntly, grinning like the Cheshire Cat.

Emma's face turned an even deeper shade of red, and I could feel my own cheeks heating up.

"We've been rooting for you two since Prisoner of Azkaban! About bloody time!"