Valentine's day was slowly drawing to a close. The paper hearts that had once adorned the walls eventually lost adhesive and now littered the floor. All the students at Hogwarts were outside enjoying the fireworks. All, that is, except two. Hermione Granger sat in the flickering light of the fire, hunched over her Transfigurations book, trying desperately to change a feather into a snail. Every few minutes a small bang would erupt, and the shadow of colored lights would leak in through the slits of windows, dancing reds, blues and greens across the parchment.
"Hermione?" a voice from across the common room broke her train of thought. She whirled around in surprise. It never really occurred to her that others weren't at the fireworks.
"Oh Harry you scared me!" she exclaimed, laughing.
"No one to spend Valentine's day with huh?" he asked after a moment of awkward silence. She shook her head.
"How come you aren't down watching the fireworks?" she asked, pushing her Transfigurations book away and leaning back in the couch. He shrugged.
"No one to watch them with I guess." He sighed, looking gloomy for a moment, before a secretive smile adorned his face. "Besides," he added. "Ron and Lavender would be too busy snogging to notice me anyway."
That made Hermione giggle, and for Harry the room suddenly seemed less despairing.
"You didn't even get an owl from Krum then?" he asked, looking over at her. Upon the mention of Viktor's name, she gazed off into the fireplace with a pensive, sorrowful look on her face.
"I'll take that s a no." Harry said, regretting ever bringing up the subject of that snot-nosed, beady-eyed, high and mighty Quidditch player.
"Oh he sent me an owl," she told him. He was taken aback by the look of fiery rage boiling in her usually cheerful brown eyes. "He sent me an owl to tell me that he met a girl named Claire at Quidditch camp, and that he was breaking up with me!" Her words were laced with venom, and betrayal and anger burned in her eyes. Harry's eyes widened in disbelief. He too had gone to the same Quidditch camp as Krum, and he had seem Claire.
I mean sure she was pretty, but she was nothing compared to Hermione.
That thought struck him as extremely foreign and halfway genius... and he had nothing left to do except stare off into the fire.
"Harry?" her voice came out timidly. When he looked down at her, he was shocked to see tiny sparkling tears welling up in her eyes. As she looked up at him, his heart broke. A whirlpool of sadness, pain, and heartbreak stared back at him, and it took everything within him not to wipe the tear away.
"Harry, I'm sorry, I just...." She started. Harry Kept his face completely blank for fear his entire soul would make itself known. Before he even knew what happened Hermione sprang to her feet. Everything about her posture oozed out betrayal.
"You don't even care do you?" she screamed at him. "Viktor's broken my heart and you act so indifferent!" Harry looked up, thoroughly surprised at her sudden outburst.
"What..." he started but she continued screaming.
"I though you were my friend Harry," her hands flew wildly about her head.
"Hermione I..." he began again, but yet again she cut him off.
"No, you know what? I don't want to hear your pitiful excuses. I hate you Harry James Potter. I hate you with every single cell of my being." She spat out, shooting daggers at him. That was the last straw. Harry bolted up off the couch, adrenaline pounding through his veins.
"Yeah, well I love you!"
Wait... what?
Neither of them moved for a moment. The red and blue remnants of a firework trickled in from the windows, showering them both with light. Then, purely on instinct, Harry lunged forward, grabbing Hermione's face in both hands and pulling her towards him. The night exploded in an intense array of heat and beauty. Harry became acutely aware of everything about Hermione, the softness of her skin, her intoxicating scent, as he devoured the sweetness of her lips. His fingers plunged into the silky brown mass of curls, entwining his fingers around their glossy perfection.
Hermione didn't react at first, dazed and confused. But soon the heat of the moment seeped into her veins, and wrapped her arms around Harry's neck, drawing him closer. Everything about him seemed so utterly and unquenchably perfect. This was Harry, her best friend, tantalizing her, teasing her, sending her mind spiraling to the heavens. Everything melted away into a blur of exhilarating magic as he claimed her lips as his own.
Reality kicked in after several long, heavenly seconds, and Harry instantly pulled away from her. She moaned in protest as her body flooded with cold at the loss of heat from his lips. He couldn't even stand to look into her eyes, he couldn't. He was too afraid he'd find disgust there, and fear.
Oh God, what have I done?
With not a moments thought he bolted away, up the stairs of the boy's dorm. The common room filled with the sound of the door slamming. Hermione couldn't move. Her mind still swirled with the thrilling feeling of Harry's lips on hers.
She barely registered as her legs gave way from beneath her and she collapsed on the couch.
Fireworks. It was the first coherent thing she managed to scavenge out of the jumble of thoughts. The fireworks still went off outside. Faintly, she could hear the "ooohs" and "aaaahhs" of her classmates. Only one thing mattered to her though. Harry. Her skin burned with the lingering feeling of his touch, and her trembling lips were tingling to no end. With a great sigh, she picked up a stray blanket someone had left on the chair, and wrapped it around her shivering form. Her gaze wandered to the fire, dancing and twirling like her own pounding heart. Even in it's auburn depths she could see his mystical green eyes, staring at her with a never-ending intensity that sent shivers to the very depths of her soul.
"Hermione?" a voice from across the common room broke her train of thought. She whirled around in surprise. It never really occurred to her that others weren't at the fireworks.
"Oh Harry you scared me!" she exclaimed, laughing.
"No one to spend Valentine's day with huh?" he asked after a moment of awkward silence. She shook her head.
"How come you aren't down watching the fireworks?" she asked, pushing her Transfigurations book away and leaning back in the couch. He shrugged.
"No one to watch them with I guess." He sighed, looking gloomy for a moment, before a secretive smile adorned his face. "Besides," he added. "Ron and Lavender would be too busy snogging to notice me anyway."
That made Hermione giggle, and for Harry the room suddenly seemed less despairing.
"You didn't even get an owl from Krum then?" he asked, looking over at her. Upon the mention of Viktor's name, she gazed off into the fireplace with a pensive, sorrowful look on her face.
"I'll take that s a no." Harry said, regretting ever bringing up the subject of that snot-nosed, beady-eyed, high and mighty Quidditch player.
"Oh he sent me an owl," she told him. He was taken aback by the look of fiery rage boiling in her usually cheerful brown eyes. "He sent me an owl to tell me that he met a girl named Claire at Quidditch camp, and that he was breaking up with me!" Her words were laced with venom, and betrayal and anger burned in her eyes. Harry's eyes widened in disbelief. He too had gone to the same Quidditch camp as Krum, and he had seem Claire.
I mean sure she was pretty, but she was nothing compared to Hermione.
That thought struck him as extremely foreign and halfway genius... and he had nothing left to do except stare off into the fire.
"Harry?" her voice came out timidly. When he looked down at her, he was shocked to see tiny sparkling tears welling up in her eyes. As she looked up at him, his heart broke. A whirlpool of sadness, pain, and heartbreak stared back at him, and it took everything within him not to wipe the tear away.
"Harry, I'm sorry, I just...." She started. Harry Kept his face completely blank for fear his entire soul would make itself known. Before he even knew what happened Hermione sprang to her feet. Everything about her posture oozed out betrayal.
"You don't even care do you?" she screamed at him. "Viktor's broken my heart and you act so indifferent!" Harry looked up, thoroughly surprised at her sudden outburst.
"What..." he started but she continued screaming.
"I though you were my friend Harry," her hands flew wildly about her head.
"Hermione I..." he began again, but yet again she cut him off.
"No, you know what? I don't want to hear your pitiful excuses. I hate you Harry James Potter. I hate you with every single cell of my being." She spat out, shooting daggers at him. That was the last straw. Harry bolted up off the couch, adrenaline pounding through his veins.
"Yeah, well I love you!"
Wait... what?
Neither of them moved for a moment. The red and blue remnants of a firework trickled in from the windows, showering them both with light. Then, purely on instinct, Harry lunged forward, grabbing Hermione's face in both hands and pulling her towards him. The night exploded in an intense array of heat and beauty. Harry became acutely aware of everything about Hermione, the softness of her skin, her intoxicating scent, as he devoured the sweetness of her lips. His fingers plunged into the silky brown mass of curls, entwining his fingers around their glossy perfection.
Hermione didn't react at first, dazed and confused. But soon the heat of the moment seeped into her veins, and wrapped her arms around Harry's neck, drawing him closer. Everything about him seemed so utterly and unquenchably perfect. This was Harry, her best friend, tantalizing her, teasing her, sending her mind spiraling to the heavens. Everything melted away into a blur of exhilarating magic as he claimed her lips as his own.
Reality kicked in after several long, heavenly seconds, and Harry instantly pulled away from her. She moaned in protest as her body flooded with cold at the loss of heat from his lips. He couldn't even stand to look into her eyes, he couldn't. He was too afraid he'd find disgust there, and fear.
Oh God, what have I done?
With not a moments thought he bolted away, up the stairs of the boy's dorm. The common room filled with the sound of the door slamming. Hermione couldn't move. Her mind still swirled with the thrilling feeling of Harry's lips on hers.
She barely registered as her legs gave way from beneath her and she collapsed on the couch.
Fireworks. It was the first coherent thing she managed to scavenge out of the jumble of thoughts. The fireworks still went off outside. Faintly, she could hear the "ooohs" and "aaaahhs" of her classmates. Only one thing mattered to her though. Harry. Her skin burned with the lingering feeling of his touch, and her trembling lips were tingling to no end. With a great sigh, she picked up a stray blanket someone had left on the chair, and wrapped it around her shivering form. Her gaze wandered to the fire, dancing and twirling like her own pounding heart. Even in it's auburn depths she could see his mystical green eyes, staring at her with a never-ending intensity that sent shivers to the very depths of her soul.