"Man, she's stunning," I whisper to Harry.
Even when she isn't dressed up, or has even combed her hair, she is beautiful. Her brown, curly locks flowing over her shoulders, her brown-eyed, courageous and loving gaze- everything is perfect. When she smiles, it is like the eighth wonder of the world. It is hard to believe that in the beginning I hadn't liked her. Her know-it-all self had been annoying, but she'd grown out of it.
In a duel, she'll stand up for herself, and send her opponent crying for momma. Sure, sometimes she just needs a shoulder to cry on, and I'm honored that she chooses mine.
Mostly, what makes her really shine is her courage. When someone asked her why she wasn't in Ravenclaw, I knew. She might not have, but I did. Hermione would go places and do things that no one else would do. She punched Draco in the nose, when none would even duel him. To me, that's courage.
Anyway, I love her. I'll shout it from the rooftops and scream it to the valleys. I love you, Hermione Granger.