"Hermione, this is the best, nicest, greatest thing you have ever done for me!" Harry excitedly shouted to his best friend across one of the oaken tables they were currently sharing in the library.
At Harry's louder-than-he-meant cry of glee, Madame Pince shot them a look of warning that Harry tried to heed, but was just too excited. He jumped across the table, wrapped his arms around Hermione and pecked her cheek. "Thank you so much! You are the best friend anyone could have," he said in her ear, which tickled her and made her shiver.
Harry jumped from the table, grabbed his bag and began to walk/run out of the nook they had been sharing, but not before turning towards Hermione again, just before he turned the corner and raising his arms in the air and, unable to convey his feeling, made a happy grunt of gratitude.
As he was walking out of the library, Harry thought to himself, 'That really was the nicest, greatest, smartest thing she's every done for me.' 'And she's done a lot,' said another voice at the back of his mind. 'Yeah. She has. The potion riddle in our 1st year. Risking her clean record to make the Poly-Juice Potion in our 2nd. Using her time-turner and her help in saving Buckbeak and Sirius. The relentless search for any clue hidden deep in some book that might help me in the Tri-Wizard Tournament. Forming the D.A., luring Umbridge to the centaurs, risking her life in the Department of Ministries. Plus all the advice, the warnings, the homework help. She always brought me back to my senses. And it was always her with the plan. And she's never asked for anything in return. And I've never given her anything. Except years of stress, frustration, and hassle.' Then it hit him. With such a force that he stopped walking completely.(He had unconsciously been slowing down all the while this inner monologue was going on.)
Harry turned on his heel and headed right back to the library. He wasn't sure why, but he had to see Hermione.
He was running by the time he reached the great oak doors that led to the library. He burst through them and marched to the nook he had just been in five minutes ago. But as he neared, his pace slowed while his heartbeat quickened. His palms began to sweat. But he wasn't nervous. He was about to do what he didn't know he had wanted to do for so long.
Harry turned a row early and peered over the dusty volumes at Hermione. Her brow was slightly furrowed in concentration. Her eyes sped across the page. She absent-mindedly tucked her hair behind her ear. Her hand drifted, unnoticed by anyone but Harry, across her cheek, resting on her bottom lip, tugging it slightly down and to the left so Harry could see a bit of the wet, deep pink interior. It was then that another realization hit him like a ton of bricks. He let out an audible gasp, which made Hermione start and look up.
Harry turned the corner and looked at her, a slight trace of a smile forming on his lips.
"Harry, I thought you—," she began.
"Thank you," Harry softly interrupted.
Hermione sighed, rolled her eyes, and gave a small chuckle. "Yes, Harry. You already thanked me. And you can more when you get back. But you have to—,"
"No," Harry said firmly. He walked over to her chair and knelt in front of her, grasping one of her hands in both of his. She gently put her free hand on top of the other three. Harry looked up at her, letting his second realization sink in. 'She is beautiful,' he thought. Not Hollywood beautiful. Not magazine beautiful. Not the beautiful that could turn heads walking along the street. A different kind of beautiful. A beautiful that could only mean one thing.
"Hermione," he began. He then made the horrible mistake of looking up into her chestnut brown eyes, usually full of knowledge and understanding, but now puzzlement was the only thing he found. But he was still entranced. Behind that clear, shiny lens was Hermione's mind, feelings, her heart. He wanted to dive inside.
"Yes?" she squeaked, gently squeezing Harry's hands, urging him to go on.
Harry suddenly came to his senses. "Hermione," he began again. "Thank you for always being there. For being the sensible one. The smart one. The wise and caring and understanding one. Thank you for teaching me love. Thank you for being my friend, when no body else would. Thank you for always looking out for me. But most of all, thank you for letting me kiss you," he finished with a sly grin.
"But, I...we...," she stammered. But then a comprehensive smile spread slowly across her face. She bent her head as he raised his. They fell into a natural, beautiful, long-awaited kiss.
At Harry's louder-than-he-meant cry of glee, Madame Pince shot them a look of warning that Harry tried to heed, but was just too excited. He jumped across the table, wrapped his arms around Hermione and pecked her cheek. "Thank you so much! You are the best friend anyone could have," he said in her ear, which tickled her and made her shiver.
Harry jumped from the table, grabbed his bag and began to walk/run out of the nook they had been sharing, but not before turning towards Hermione again, just before he turned the corner and raising his arms in the air and, unable to convey his feeling, made a happy grunt of gratitude.
As he was walking out of the library, Harry thought to himself, 'That really was the nicest, greatest, smartest thing she's every done for me.' 'And she's done a lot,' said another voice at the back of his mind. 'Yeah. She has. The potion riddle in our 1st year. Risking her clean record to make the Poly-Juice Potion in our 2nd. Using her time-turner and her help in saving Buckbeak and Sirius. The relentless search for any clue hidden deep in some book that might help me in the Tri-Wizard Tournament. Forming the D.A., luring Umbridge to the centaurs, risking her life in the Department of Ministries. Plus all the advice, the warnings, the homework help. She always brought me back to my senses. And it was always her with the plan. And she's never asked for anything in return. And I've never given her anything. Except years of stress, frustration, and hassle.' Then it hit him. With such a force that he stopped walking completely.(He had unconsciously been slowing down all the while this inner monologue was going on.)
Harry turned on his heel and headed right back to the library. He wasn't sure why, but he had to see Hermione.
He was running by the time he reached the great oak doors that led to the library. He burst through them and marched to the nook he had just been in five minutes ago. But as he neared, his pace slowed while his heartbeat quickened. His palms began to sweat. But he wasn't nervous. He was about to do what he didn't know he had wanted to do for so long.
Harry turned a row early and peered over the dusty volumes at Hermione. Her brow was slightly furrowed in concentration. Her eyes sped across the page. She absent-mindedly tucked her hair behind her ear. Her hand drifted, unnoticed by anyone but Harry, across her cheek, resting on her bottom lip, tugging it slightly down and to the left so Harry could see a bit of the wet, deep pink interior. It was then that another realization hit him like a ton of bricks. He let out an audible gasp, which made Hermione start and look up.
Harry turned the corner and looked at her, a slight trace of a smile forming on his lips.
"Harry, I thought you—," she began.
"Thank you," Harry softly interrupted.
Hermione sighed, rolled her eyes, and gave a small chuckle. "Yes, Harry. You already thanked me. And you can more when you get back. But you have to—,"
"No," Harry said firmly. He walked over to her chair and knelt in front of her, grasping one of her hands in both of his. She gently put her free hand on top of the other three. Harry looked up at her, letting his second realization sink in. 'She is beautiful,' he thought. Not Hollywood beautiful. Not magazine beautiful. Not the beautiful that could turn heads walking along the street. A different kind of beautiful. A beautiful that could only mean one thing.
"Hermione," he began. He then made the horrible mistake of looking up into her chestnut brown eyes, usually full of knowledge and understanding, but now puzzlement was the only thing he found. But he was still entranced. Behind that clear, shiny lens was Hermione's mind, feelings, her heart. He wanted to dive inside.
"Yes?" she squeaked, gently squeezing Harry's hands, urging him to go on.
Harry suddenly came to his senses. "Hermione," he began again. "Thank you for always being there. For being the sensible one. The smart one. The wise and caring and understanding one. Thank you for teaching me love. Thank you for being my friend, when no body else would. Thank you for always looking out for me. But most of all, thank you for letting me kiss you," he finished with a sly grin.
"But, I...we...," she stammered. But then a comprehensive smile spread slowly across her face. She bent her head as he raised his. They fell into a natural, beautiful, long-awaited kiss.