Do you know the feeling when you realize exactly what has happened? After a fight? After a first kiss? Well I do. I spent most of my teenage years with that feeling.
I'm Hermione Granger and I want to tell you the story of my love. It all started in my sixth year, when I dated Draco Malfoy. I know he was supposed to be enemy, and he was a first, but I loved him. At least, I thought I did.
I dated him for four months. He was a great boyfriend and a wonderful kisser, but just not what I was looking for. So I broke up with him. He didn't take that well.
I'm going to tell you the story of what happened, 'cause it's to do with my big love story.
A week later, as I was leaving the Dining Hall after dinner, I found myself pushed roughly against a wall. As I suspected, it was Draco. He took my hands in his and stood with his body incredibly close to mine. I could feel his breath on my face. "What do you want Draco?" I ask softly.
"You know perfectly what I want"
"No, I don't" I said as I tried to free myself from his grasp.
"I want you Hermione. Don't you miss our hugs? Our touches? Our kisses? Our moments?" After each question he planted a small kiss on my neck, working his was down from my jaw to my throat.
"Draco please stop"
"But I don't want to"
He raised his head back up, his eyes level with mine. I struggled, but he held me fast. I wasn't strong enough. I could feel his breath on my lips. I was sure that he going to kiss me.
But I was rescued, unexpectedly, by Ron who came and pushed Draco away from me and hit him in the face.
Draco fell to the ground and touched his nose, shocked. It was bleeding.
Then it was my moment; Ron standing there looking at Draco, Draco in the floor holding his bloody nose looking at Ron and I looked from Ron to Draco and back to Ron.
Suddenly Draco stood up and punched Ron in the eye. Ron took a few quick steps back to get his bearings, before launching himself at Draco and pushing him to the ground, pounding him as hard as he could and wherever he could, fist moving faster than I would've believed possible. I tried to stop them but my efforts proved futile.
It wasn't long before we were surrounded, someone beginning a chant of "Fight! Fight! Fight!"
It was Professor Dumbledore who eventually broke it up.
"Mr. Weasley and Mr. Malfoy, stop that right now please."
Both boys sprung to their feet immediately and stood like a couple of primary school children caught writing on their desks. The image was marred slightly by matching bloody noses, Ron's split lip and a gash on Draco's head that was starting to bleed into his hair.
The headmaster raised a hand, beckoning Harry from where he stood, slightly apart from the watching crowd. He smiled "Mr. Potter kindly escort Mr. Malfoy to the hospital wing"
"Yes professor," replied Harry reluctantly and he turned towards the stairs, not waiting to see if the battered Slytherin was following. As Draco left, I though I was him wince apologetically at Harry's back. Maybe I was wrong. In light of recent circumstances however, I think not.
"As for you Mr. Weasley, I think Ms. Granger will take care of you." His eyes twinkled as he turned to me and continued, "The hospital is, I'm afraid, rather full at the moment, thanks to a certain Mr. and Mr. Weasley. I know you have a first aid kit in your room. I'm sure you're perfectly capable of patching up this young man." He winked and my eyes widened slightly in surprise.
"Yes professor," I said, sounding somewhat less reluctant than Harry had. He smiled his favourite secretive smile and left.
Ron and I were silent as we walked towards Gryffindor Tower. A quick glance in his direction revealed him to be staring furtively in the opposite direction.
Ron made a small noise of surprise when the stairs admitted him to the girls dorm, but I wasn't surprised. That old man couldn't shock me anymore.
When we got up to the sixth year dormitory I gestured to my bed and he sat down awkwardly, still silent, looking around him with a vaguely disappointed expression - what he had expected our dorm to be like, I'll never know – as I walked quickly to the bathroom to grab my first aid kit. Then, returning to the room I took out cotton wool and iodine, and started dabbing the brown liquid on Ron's nose.
He yelled and jerked his head back.
"If you want me to help you, you'll have to keep still," I told him gently. They were the first words spoken since leaving the entrance hall.
"Be gentle then, it hurts!"
"Okay, I know, and I'll try."
I did it again but more carefully this time.
Finishing his nose, and starting on his lip, I couldn't help but stare. Since when had Ron's mouth looked so damn inviting?
"Did I have something on my face?" Ron asked, reaching to touch his lip but pulling away hurriedly as he felt it sting.
"No, it's nothing," I assured him hurriedly, blushing.
I pressed the cotton wool to lips as a question came to mind.
"Ron"
"Yes?"
"Why did you hit Draco?"
Ron blushed, bless him, and stuttered slightly before answering. "Well, 'Cause I'm your best friend and-"
"That was not the only reason, was it?"
Ron sighed. "Erm... No."
"What was it?" I whispered, my voice wavering.
"I, I can't tell you" he said lamely, staring intently at the floor.
"Why not?" I asked, and winced as he became defensive.
"I just can't, okay. Leave it."
But I was stubborn. "Why?"
"Because it'd ruin our friendship." He was yelling now.
"Don't shout, the wound will get worse," I told him worriedly.
"Okay," he murmured, somewhat ashamed.
I should have left him alone then. I know I should have. But I just couldn't. "So…?"
"Because I love you, okay?" he mumbled. I stared at him. "You can kill me now. I don't mind. Or just never talk to me again, Whatever."
"What?" I said quietly.
"Just forget it and –"
"No Ron, the first bit."
"What?"
He looked at me, incredulous, and I leant in quickly and kissed him.
How the kiss was? Only the most wonderful thing in the world. He's an even better kisser than Draco. Who'd have known?
We broke apart, and I smiled tentatively. He smile too, and then we laughed. A lot.
And then?
I finished cleaning up his wound and we kissed again, this time with much more passion.
And that brings me to today. I'm lying on the bed that my husband and I share. Oh, yeah, and I lied a bit at the start. My name is Hermione Weasley and I'm thirty two years old. I married to Ron six years ago and I've never been happier.
We have a daughter, Rose. She's five years old, and absolutely adorable, sporting Ron's hair and my eyes.
And the best part? I'm pregnant!
So this is my life: I have an amazing husband, who's currently lying next to me, snoring loudly, a breathtaking daughter sleeping soundly across the hall, and the best life I could ever wish for.
My friends are sharing my happiness, especially Harry. He lives with Draco. It's an unusual situation, but one I half expected. Dumbledore did his fair share of matchmaking, that faithful day in nineteen-ninety-eight.
And to think that, really, it all happened because of Draco.