Hello everyone! This is my very first fanfic, so go easy on me :]
I'd really appreciate reviews, just to see what everyone thinks about it.
The more reviews I get, the quicker I'll update!
Enjoy, dears~

Of the Beginning

"Oi!" Fred massaged the back of his head where the rolled up newspaper had hit him, "What was that for?"

"Don't talk with your mouth full," Molly Weasley bustled around the kitchen, making sure that everyone's breakfast was in front of them and adding on helpings of scrambled eggs any time someone's plate began looking empty.

"Not his fault Hermione got the best of him…again," Ron smirked at Hermione, sitting at his right. She beamed at his compliment and looked back at Fred to finish their conversation.

"Thank you, Ronald. And so you see, Fred, it would be nearly impossible for a love potion to really work. Love doesn't exist, it's merely a fairytale created for young girls to swoon after their entire lives. It's as though they always have to be damsel's in distress, while the men are their knights in shining armour. Why is it so impossible for a woman to be a knight? Love isn't real. Infatuation created by hormones and chemicals…yes, it exists. But love…don't waste your time trying to create something that will never work," she tossed a strand of long, brown hair over her shoulder and sat staring down at her plate. Suddenly, she wasn't very hungry any more.

She looked back up at Fred who was slowly shaking his head, "Love exists, 'Mione, I promise. I just wish you would realize it." He then turned to George and jumped in on the neighboring conversation about Quidditch and which team would win this year's Cup.

Hermione, in that moment, felt empty…almost lonely, though she was in a room full of her friends. She could tell Ron was looking at her with a worried expression on his face, but she didn't bother to look back at him and let him know she was okay. She wasn't okay. When he touched her hand, she pulled away, an apologetic look on her face.

"Sorry, Ron…I'm alright, I promise. I'm just feeling a little sick today…I think I'm going to go upstairs and take another nap or something," she kissed him on the cheek, ignoring his blush and his garbled "sweet dreams, feel better". She nodded at Harry, who knew her better, who knew what she was really sick from, who would follow her upstairs and comfort her. But it wasn't his comfort she wanted.

There was a light knock at her door, and Hermione, surprised, quickly called in a hushed whisper, "Come in"

She was in bed, reading an old tomb because she couldn't sleep. Her overworked brain just needed peace and quiet, but it wouldn't let her be. It was him. He was the one who consumed her thoughts every second of every day. He was the one she thought about every night before she went to bed, sometimes cried over because she knew that he would never look her way.

Harry stepped through the door and quietly shut it behind him. It was 3 in the morning, and Hermione was surprised he wasn't with Ginny, since they had recently started spending their nights together. "Hey, 'Mione," he kicked off his shoes and sat on across from her on her bed.

"Hey, Harry," she whispered with a small smile. She was always grateful for him, whenever he caught her feeling sad or lonely, "Why aren't you with Ginny?"

"She saw you looking all weird this morning," he took the book from her hands and set it on the ground, "She was worried about you, too. I'm pretty sure she knows, 'Mione, but I promise I didn't tell." He looked at her with worried eyes, and Hermione believed that he would never tell her secret. She trusted Harry with her life, he was her very best friend.

"I know you wouldn't tell, Harry. And besides, it really isn't that big of a deal," she laughed lightly, "It's just a school-girl crush, I'm sure it'll pass soon enough." She scooted closer to the wall and patted the open space next to her, which Harry quickly occupied. He slung his arm over her shoulder and she leaned into him, treasuring the warmth and the comfort.

"Hermione, you've liked him for so long. I know you've tried dating those other guys…Krum and McLaggen and even Seamus…" he smirked, remembering the awkward two months the couple had spent together in their 5th year, "but it never worked. You never got over him. And it hurts me to see you like this…you need to just tell him, already. I don't know a single guy who wouldn't go for you."

She snorted, not believing him for a second, "I appreciate it, but you don't have to lie to me, Harry. I know I'm not exactly the hottest piece of ass at school," she rolled her eyes.

Harry cringed, "Why do you always have to be so crude? You're not hot, you're beautiful, alright? And you're brilliant, and funny, and exciting…you're brave. Seriously, you're amazing and it still shocks me to know that you don't see it the way I do. It breaks my heart," he squeezed her shoulder and kissed the top of her head.

They had always had this sort of relationship, easy as breathing. Though many people had thought they were meant to be, Harry and Hermione had never felt anything but friendship toward each other. They were always there for one another, no matter the situation. Hermione laughed to herself, thinking of what was to come, and how pathetic this particular problem was. She shook away her dark thoughts and focused on a lighter subject, "I still find it hilarious how much of a prude you are, Harry," she smirked up at him.

"And I still find it odd how lewd you are, love," he chuckled. He knew that mostly everyone thought that Granger was the prude in the trio, but it really was him. Hermione was actually quite open about things if people asked about them.

"There's nothing to hide, Potter," she smiled, "Hormones are natural, they should be embraced."

"Disgusting girl," Harry poked her side, making her giggle and push him away. He laughed and hugged her tighter, letting her try to fight her way out of his grip. "Not getting away from me, Granger, I love you too much."
"Stupid. Half-blood. Cocky. Seeker." She accentuated every word with a push at him, laughing too hard to really fight back at him. He eventually loosened his arms to let her breathe, laughing right along with her.

"Oh, 'Mione, things are going to get better, I promise," he smiled and stood up, putting his shoes on again and starting to tiptoe out of her room, "You gotta tell him, though."

And as Harry left the room, Hermione found herself thinking that Harry knew something that she didn't.