A/N: An idea I came up with over a friend's house. Just thought it would be somewhat interesting. Thank you for the definition! PG-13 for language.
Disclaimer: I do not own any of the characters, J.K. Rowling does.
Hermione was rather frazzled that afternoon. As being a Prefect and Head Girl, she couldn't allow reckless fourth years to be making out in the common room! It just wasn't decent, moral, or flattering. After hearing the two complain for quite a while, she retreated to her little desk in the common room and began to write. Writing was always a release for her. It helped her through all the depressing times the school had faced. The quill scratched away on her parchment as the ink began to read:
A kiss is defined as a caress or touch with the lips. It goes on to intend feelings of affection, greeting, respect, or amorousness.
It is just a simple thing. A kiss is a word, a noun and verb in fact. It is a motion done to seduce. What is such the big fuss over it?
A kiss is always a kiss, no matter if tongue is involved. It's just an action. It does not denote love, trust, and certainly not innocence by any means.
A kiss can be deceiving. They don't have to be true. Most girls that make such a big stink about kissing don't even realize that it's not even love; rather, infatuation would be the proper label for it. Just because one's been kissed doesn't mean it designates that the man or woman is being absolutely honest. Only could come to such a conclusion that a kiss is a symbol of love!
Hermione felt satisfied as she put down her quill for the night. She had gotten her secret vengeance on the inconsiderate couple.
"They'll break up soon anyway. Relationships that young never last," she thought smugly to herself.
...Days Later...
She returned to her room, a harsh scowl on her face. Her anger was so great that she didn't even notice the third years setting off a cluster of dungbombs and Filibuster's Fireworks.
"How dare that bloody prat say that?! He thinks he's the shit with his little bitch..." she cussed to herself.
The scene played in her mind as Malfoy had the balls to insult her in front of the whole 7th year transfiguration class right under McGonagal's nose! And then to have that prissy little snot of a girl Parkinson snog him afterwards for a job well done. It was beyond an outrage in Ms. Granger's book. She sat down on her bed and pulled out the unfinished parchment.
A kiss is the result of sinful lust. It is a craving, not a satisfaction. Leaving the person more cursed than he or she began, a kiss causes desire to become reality. Morals are nothing to the unstoppable kiss.
Millions upon millions of people have fallen victim to its innocent security.
"Oh just one kiss," becomes two then four then it's not a kiss but a French kiss by now. Then they are hardly kisses anymore but full on attacks on self-restraint. A wicked curse that most beings give into, temptation is truly overwhelming.
A kiss can be evil in yet another way. It can be used as a tool to show off one's overly flaunted sexuality or newly acquired significant other. In this way, the gaudy relationships usually fail once they find a more pleasing specimen.
How amusing that a kiss, the big step between "friend" and "boy or girlfriend", can be a sign of when the happiest couple will break up; having the first kiss is the kiss of death to the intimacy. An ironic predicament, indeed.
She smirked as she put the parchment away in her folders. The couples would all crumble, yes. To her, all that fake love they expressed was nothing, because everyone was bound to break up someday. And for those who do not, well, divorce court awaits them.
......
"Ron where are we going?" she questioned cynically.
Hermione was rather upset she had been disturbed. The potion's essay was due in only two weeks and she needed to finish by today or her whole schedule was thrown off! Unless someone is in impending peril, schoolwork takes precedence over everything else. He should have known this by now.
"You'll see," he said with a smile.
He led her through an unknown path to the 9th floor. After passing an innumerable amount of doors and hallways, his smile widened.
"Close your eyes," he spoke softly.
She rolled her eyes but shut them, her mind on that uncompleted essay. He opened the door slowly, taking her hand and guiding her inside.
"Take a look," he whispered.
Inside was the most beautiful room she had ever seen. It was part garden, part library, the vines roping around the chair legs and tables. The shelves of books looked untouched and begged to be read. The various flowers included brilliant deep red roses, lilies-of-the-valley, snapdragons, amongst countless others. The furniture was handsomely crafted out of chestnut, yet the floor was barely seen due to the creeping, yet gorgeous foliage.
Her eyes widened as she mouthed wordlessly, eventually murmuring
"This is wonderful."
She gave him a tight hug, thanking him profusely. He held her close and kissed her.
"Your welcome," he said nervously, slightly embarrassed, waiting for her reaction.
She looked up at him with glittering eyes, returning his kiss with one of her own.
....
A kiss is what one makes of it. It could be deceitful, lustful, and downright wrong. It can hurt or truly devastate another My given kiss-His kiss was a gift. A badge of courage. A symbol of more-than-friendship. From one to another.
I don't know about other people. But for me, his kiss was love.
A/N: Dedicated to the bitter, cynical, and jealous of others relationships. A.K.A. like I am =P