One Night of Passion
Hermione's Point of View
Why on earth would I want it to be more? Why on earth would I expect more from him? It was one night, and only one night, just like we agreed. It shouldn't have meant anything, and it didn't mean anything, or did it? Oh how it felt like it meant something, but it shouldn't have. I'm so confused. We promised it would be nothing more and we would never do it again, but then again, I'm not very good at keeping promises. That night was one of the best nights of my whole, entire life, and yet, it was also the worst. Since I did want more from him, and expected more from him, it turned out to be my heartache.
You see, it all started when my Grandmother died. I just received a letter about it that day. I knew the gloomy corner of the school that nobody went around. When I got there, I seen some one I didn't expect to see. He was sitting down in a corner with his head in his lap. I felt sorry for him. At that time, we were both vulnerable, very vulnerable. I don't really remember most of the conversation, just bits and pieces. I remember what happened after the conversation though.
We decided to go to the room of requirement. We both wanted to relieve our pain and this was the only way we could really think of doing it. That night was the first night we were together, and I suppose our last. I can still see the sweat glistening on his body. We spent more then the whole night in that room. We never slept a wink. We were both nervous because we had never done this before, which made it all the more pleasurable. It was incredible. After we were done, we both agreed not to tell anyone, and that it would never happen again. We could never speak to each other again, or make anybody lead to any conclusions that we did anything at all, or even said any civil words to each other.
That's what's breaking me a part right now. I can't handle this. I should be in his arms. He should be holding me, kissing me, touching me, loving me. I should be with him all of the time. We should be together again. But I can't, I made a deal that I wouldn't. I know he wouldn't feel the same either because he does care about other people, but yet, there is something hidden inside him that I know I can release. I can get the good out of him, but I'll never get the chance to try. Maybe I was that bad that he didn't want me. I'm still confused. I want to go over there and just throw my arms around him and kiss him passionately. But I can't. I at least want to talk to him. I have to talk to him. I can't continue to live like this. I'm definitely going to go and talk to him right now. Wish me luck. Why did we have to have that one night of passion?
Hermione's Point of View
Why on earth would I want it to be more? Why on earth would I expect more from him? It was one night, and only one night, just like we agreed. It shouldn't have meant anything, and it didn't mean anything, or did it? Oh how it felt like it meant something, but it shouldn't have. I'm so confused. We promised it would be nothing more and we would never do it again, but then again, I'm not very good at keeping promises. That night was one of the best nights of my whole, entire life, and yet, it was also the worst. Since I did want more from him, and expected more from him, it turned out to be my heartache.
You see, it all started when my Grandmother died. I just received a letter about it that day. I knew the gloomy corner of the school that nobody went around. When I got there, I seen some one I didn't expect to see. He was sitting down in a corner with his head in his lap. I felt sorry for him. At that time, we were both vulnerable, very vulnerable. I don't really remember most of the conversation, just bits and pieces. I remember what happened after the conversation though.
We decided to go to the room of requirement. We both wanted to relieve our pain and this was the only way we could really think of doing it. That night was the first night we were together, and I suppose our last. I can still see the sweat glistening on his body. We spent more then the whole night in that room. We never slept a wink. We were both nervous because we had never done this before, which made it all the more pleasurable. It was incredible. After we were done, we both agreed not to tell anyone, and that it would never happen again. We could never speak to each other again, or make anybody lead to any conclusions that we did anything at all, or even said any civil words to each other.
That's what's breaking me a part right now. I can't handle this. I should be in his arms. He should be holding me, kissing me, touching me, loving me. I should be with him all of the time. We should be together again. But I can't, I made a deal that I wouldn't. I know he wouldn't feel the same either because he does care about other people, but yet, there is something hidden inside him that I know I can release. I can get the good out of him, but I'll never get the chance to try. Maybe I was that bad that he didn't want me. I'm still confused. I want to go over there and just throw my arms around him and kiss him passionately. But I can't. I at least want to talk to him. I have to talk to him. I can't continue to live like this. I'm definitely going to go and talk to him right now. Wish me luck. Why did we have to have that one night of passion?