Hermione Granger and the Fall of Innocence
Rating: PG-13 to be safe
Summary: Well, I'm not going to give an actual summary because I'm not entirely sure how this is going to go. Just gonna let it write itself... hopefully it'll go in the vague path of the idea that was inspired by my good friend, Isis Malfoy. It's a sequel to Harry Potter and the Last Great War, also by me, so if you haven't read it, go do so and review! Being a person who identifies with Hermione and Minerva the most, I thought I'd write one that follows Hermione. Plus, it works with the plan I have laid out in my head. It'll start pretty fluffy, the way the last one ended, but it probably won't have a whole lot later on.
Pairings: AD/MM and Harry/Hermione at least. If more happen to pop up, it's not my fault, I swear. In fact, I'd just like to say that you'll probably get mad at me for this story... but I'm just writing it... the characters are doing everything in my head... it's not my fault!!!
Disclaimer: Please don't hate me... and I'm not JKR, and will never be, unfortunately. I do not own Harry Potter or any of the characters, settings, etc. from the books or the movies... if I happen to add some new character of my own, I might mention it at some point in an author's note. Ummm... I think that's enough blah blah blah... let's get to the story, huh? Onward to destiny!
* ** *** **** *** ** *
Hermione opened her eyes and looked around. She could see to what seemed like the edge of the world itself. She leaned slightly to look down and saw the Quidditch putch far below her. For an instant, she blanched and faltered, but Harry's strong arm around her waist steadied her. "It's beautiful," she said quietly, watching out to the front and sides, careful not to look down again.
"You can fly if you would like," Harry whispered in her ear. He knew that she hadn't been flying since their first year. She was always grounded, mentally, emotionally, and physically. He had convinced her to come along with him just this once.
"I... I don't think so, Harry," she said, her voice getting caught in her throat. "Can we go a little lower, please?"
"Alright," he said. He tightened his grip on her waist, leaned forward, and started a dive. When he pulled out of it, about twenty feet above ground, his eardrums were aching from Hermione's shrill, piercing scream.
"Harry Potter! You put me back down on the ground, slowly, right now!" she demanded.
"Aww, Hermione, come on..." Harry pretended to whine. Hermione contemplated sending an elbow to Harry's ribs, but decided against it, deciding to wait until her feet were again planted firmly on the ground. Harry let the broomstick sink slowly to the ground until their feet touched.
Hermione immediately dismounted and spun around angrily. "You know I'm scar- ... I don't like flying." Her cheeks were turning a deep red shade, and her eyes became a deeper shade of brown.
"I wasn't going to let anything happen, Hermione," Harry said sincerely, looking at her. He stepped a little closer, within arm distance so that he could take her in his arms and make everything better. "You know, you're beautiful when you're all flustered," he grinned.
Hermione opened her mouth to say something, but no words came out. Instead, she merely used her elbow in his ribcage as she turned to walk away.
"Hermione, wait!" Harry yelled as he laughed, regaining his ability to breathe. He ran up behind her, saying all the while, "I'm sorry, Hermione, come on, I won't do it again, I promise." He reached her and turned her around. Taking her chin in his hand, he tilted her face up so that she was looking at him. "Forgive me?" When her eyes softened, but only the smallest bit, he added, "I'll make it up to you."
"You'd better," she grinned. Harry grinned back and leaned down to kiss her.
*****
Hermione went back to her chambers that night and laid down on her bed to think and reminisce a little before she fell asleep. She thought back to the day she met Harry Potter. She had mentioned something about how he was famous, and he didn't even know it. All these years, he managed to stay normal. She could only imagine what Draco would have turned out to be like had he been famous since the age of one. She never looked at Harry as the Boy-Who-Lived anymore, even if she had mentioned it in their first meeting. He was always just Harry, Harry her friend, Harry, the boy who had grown into something more to her.
She wondered if Professor McGonagall had ever sat back and just thought about Professor Dumbledore. She didn't realize that at that very moment, Minerva was doing just that. Dressed in a nightgown, with her black hair falling down the middle of her back, she sat at her window, gazing at the stars, thinking about Albus. Somewhere in the back of her mind, sixty years ago, she knew that the mean things he had said about her were untrue, that he really did love her, but she didn't allow herself to believe in hope. She built a wall around her heart to protect it from future heartbreak, and in doing so, she closed herself off to everyone, becoming the form of the rigid, law-abiding and -enforcing deputy headmistress everyone thought she was. Albus was the only one who ever saw her as the woman she really was, kind and gentle, loving and caring. Once he tore down the walls of her heart, after sixty years of cement and brick, she returned happily to the woman she was before.
Her students, except for Harry, Hermione, and Ron, seemed shocked to come into Transfiguration one day and see her with her hair down around her shoulders and her square rimmed glasses replaced with contacts. She looked twenty years younger. There was a knock on the door and she smiled as she rose to open it for Albus.
Rating: PG-13 to be safe
Summary: Well, I'm not going to give an actual summary because I'm not entirely sure how this is going to go. Just gonna let it write itself... hopefully it'll go in the vague path of the idea that was inspired by my good friend, Isis Malfoy. It's a sequel to Harry Potter and the Last Great War, also by me, so if you haven't read it, go do so and review! Being a person who identifies with Hermione and Minerva the most, I thought I'd write one that follows Hermione. Plus, it works with the plan I have laid out in my head. It'll start pretty fluffy, the way the last one ended, but it probably won't have a whole lot later on.
Pairings: AD/MM and Harry/Hermione at least. If more happen to pop up, it's not my fault, I swear. In fact, I'd just like to say that you'll probably get mad at me for this story... but I'm just writing it... the characters are doing everything in my head... it's not my fault!!!
Disclaimer: Please don't hate me... and I'm not JKR, and will never be, unfortunately. I do not own Harry Potter or any of the characters, settings, etc. from the books or the movies... if I happen to add some new character of my own, I might mention it at some point in an author's note. Ummm... I think that's enough blah blah blah... let's get to the story, huh? Onward to destiny!
* ** *** **** *** ** *
Hermione opened her eyes and looked around. She could see to what seemed like the edge of the world itself. She leaned slightly to look down and saw the Quidditch putch far below her. For an instant, she blanched and faltered, but Harry's strong arm around her waist steadied her. "It's beautiful," she said quietly, watching out to the front and sides, careful not to look down again.
"You can fly if you would like," Harry whispered in her ear. He knew that she hadn't been flying since their first year. She was always grounded, mentally, emotionally, and physically. He had convinced her to come along with him just this once.
"I... I don't think so, Harry," she said, her voice getting caught in her throat. "Can we go a little lower, please?"
"Alright," he said. He tightened his grip on her waist, leaned forward, and started a dive. When he pulled out of it, about twenty feet above ground, his eardrums were aching from Hermione's shrill, piercing scream.
"Harry Potter! You put me back down on the ground, slowly, right now!" she demanded.
"Aww, Hermione, come on..." Harry pretended to whine. Hermione contemplated sending an elbow to Harry's ribs, but decided against it, deciding to wait until her feet were again planted firmly on the ground. Harry let the broomstick sink slowly to the ground until their feet touched.
Hermione immediately dismounted and spun around angrily. "You know I'm scar- ... I don't like flying." Her cheeks were turning a deep red shade, and her eyes became a deeper shade of brown.
"I wasn't going to let anything happen, Hermione," Harry said sincerely, looking at her. He stepped a little closer, within arm distance so that he could take her in his arms and make everything better. "You know, you're beautiful when you're all flustered," he grinned.
Hermione opened her mouth to say something, but no words came out. Instead, she merely used her elbow in his ribcage as she turned to walk away.
"Hermione, wait!" Harry yelled as he laughed, regaining his ability to breathe. He ran up behind her, saying all the while, "I'm sorry, Hermione, come on, I won't do it again, I promise." He reached her and turned her around. Taking her chin in his hand, he tilted her face up so that she was looking at him. "Forgive me?" When her eyes softened, but only the smallest bit, he added, "I'll make it up to you."
"You'd better," she grinned. Harry grinned back and leaned down to kiss her.
*****
Hermione went back to her chambers that night and laid down on her bed to think and reminisce a little before she fell asleep. She thought back to the day she met Harry Potter. She had mentioned something about how he was famous, and he didn't even know it. All these years, he managed to stay normal. She could only imagine what Draco would have turned out to be like had he been famous since the age of one. She never looked at Harry as the Boy-Who-Lived anymore, even if she had mentioned it in their first meeting. He was always just Harry, Harry her friend, Harry, the boy who had grown into something more to her.
She wondered if Professor McGonagall had ever sat back and just thought about Professor Dumbledore. She didn't realize that at that very moment, Minerva was doing just that. Dressed in a nightgown, with her black hair falling down the middle of her back, she sat at her window, gazing at the stars, thinking about Albus. Somewhere in the back of her mind, sixty years ago, she knew that the mean things he had said about her were untrue, that he really did love her, but she didn't allow herself to believe in hope. She built a wall around her heart to protect it from future heartbreak, and in doing so, she closed herself off to everyone, becoming the form of the rigid, law-abiding and -enforcing deputy headmistress everyone thought she was. Albus was the only one who ever saw her as the woman she really was, kind and gentle, loving and caring. Once he tore down the walls of her heart, after sixty years of cement and brick, she returned happily to the woman she was before.
Her students, except for Harry, Hermione, and Ron, seemed shocked to come into Transfiguration one day and see her with her hair down around her shoulders and her square rimmed glasses replaced with contacts. She looked twenty years younger. There was a knock on the door and she smiled as she rose to open it for Albus.