A/N: I don't own Harry Potter or any of the characters in this fiction.
A well-trod path bends the tall spear-grass amongst the whispering willow trees, with blossoming magnolias, bearing the white and rose pink flowers in which pools of fresh rainwater gather, from which the fairies drink at the break of the dawn. Shooting high into the sky are corn stalks, thousands of them, running across hills and far into the horizon, where the faint blue outlines of the thunderous mountains stand.
In this peaceful land, it seems, nothing disturbing could happen. Harry feels the wind rustle through his hair, sending a few black strands into his eyes, and he blinks. Suddenly, a loud sound fills the night air. The image disappears and he is back inside his common room, the peaceful dream gone, his eyes scanning the room nervously.
It was still, almost frozen in time.
He reached for his glasses. The room slowly came into view, and his eyes fixed on someone outside. It was a student, most likely, about his height, fleeing the building, a thick brown burlap cloth wound around him.
" Who in the world could that be?" Harry wondered, slowly rising from his seat. He moved towards the window, his hands wrapping over the cold parapet, and he stared intently through the darkness as the figure disappeared far into the forest.
" Odd." He remarked, and curiosity took over him. Who was this mysterious person? Should he go after this person?
He decided to follow this person, knowing that a fleeing human could only mean trouble. He dressed quickly in the pitch black and felt his way out into the hallway. Afterwards, it was easier to go outside. A blinding whirlwind of snow enveloped him. He cried out in surprise and tried to shield his glasses for he was having a hard time seeing.
The freshly-fallen snow covered any footprints he could follow. Hugging his warm overcoat to himself, Harry trudged forwards. Soon he found himself shielded from the snow as he neared the woods. It had been a monstrously long walk but he passed time quickly, thinking up tales over who the mysterious stranger was.
His eyes stopped at a scrap of brown material fluttering on the knobbed limb of a bush. He pulled it off, feeling the material, and suddenly knew who had run into the forest. It was Hermione, with her new cloak that she'd gotten for Christmas.
He wiped the snow from his glasses and pressed on. Now that the snow had a harder time penetrating the canopy of trees overhead he could make his way by the footprints Hermione had made.
He paused in front of a bridge built over a stream that ran through the woods. There, enveloped with snow, Hermione was leaning over the rushing waters, staring into the dark churns. Her head was dropped down, her hands clutching awkwardly at the rails. Her back moved in sobs.
" Hermione?" He asked.
She turned towards him, then gasped in surprise. " Harry!" She added, angry: " You should be asleep."
" So should you." He replied.
They were both seventh years, and Hermione hadn't changed much. She wasn't very beautiful, despite how all the other girls had blossomed. Her tearful eyes met with Harry's as he cupped his hand under her chin, bringing her head upwards towards his. " Hey, what's wrong?" He asked.
" Oh, Harry." She looked down at her fingers, cold and bluing to the freezing snow that coated them. " I couldn't sleep and thought I'd take a walk. Things are troubling me."
" What things?" He leaned on the railing. Clumps of snow fluttered from it and dropped into the icy water, ripples spreading and fading in the blackness.
" You wouldn't understand." She looked upwards into the sky, snowflakes getting caught on her eyelashes. Harry knew she was looking up to keep tears from coming down.
" What if I did understand? You wouldn't know unless you told me." Harry replied.
She smiled sadly. " It isn't important. You . . . you wouldn't care."
" I care already." Harry said, his hand wrapping around her shoulders. "Come on, Herm, we've been best friends since our first year here. You can tell me. I won't tell another living soul, not even a diary."
Hermione cried harder.
Harry was worried. What had he done? He searched his pockets for a handkerchief and finding none, he decided to leave her be. " Would you tell me if I guessed?"
She nodded. " I suppose, since you never will guess."
" Is it. . . girl stuff?" He felt himself blush.
She shook her head furiously.
" No?" Harry realized his main guess was incorrect and now grew silent. Then, he got an idea: " Did someone make fun of you?"
" No." She replied, wiping another tear from her eye. " Please, Harry, I should just be alone. It would be better then getting you. . . involved." She blinked, sending a few white snowflakes to tumble down onto her cheeks. They melted into what looked like more tears.
" Does it have to do with boys?" Harry finally asked, completely bewildered.
She nodded slowly, looking away from him in shame.
Harry felt his stomach wring. He had realized he cared a lot about Hermione, even more then a best friend, in his fifth year. Now he wondered if he should really persist. What if he found out she was in love with someone else?
Harry glanced at the churning water below them and swept more snow down at it. " Is it Draco?"
She shook her head.
Harry was glad it at least wasn't Draco Malfoy, of all boys. " Ron?" He asked.
" No." She said.
" Neville?" Harry's guess made her laugh.
" Harry, it isn't. Really, I don't have time for guessing games. Let's go back to Hogwarts before we get in trouble." She turned to head for Hogwarts but he took her hand. Their hands were both wet with snow.
" Please tell me. I at least deserve to know." Harry insisted. " I've told you everything I could possibly tell you. I told you I liked Cho when I stopped liking her in the fifth year, and then I found out you had gone to the dance with Viktor Krum. It isn't as if we hadn't told each other before." Now Harry really wanted to know. If it weren't him, and if he found out who it really was, then he'd back away knowing the truth. It was useless liking someone if they didn't like you back.
Hermione shivered, her hands rubbing together to keep warm. " Keep guessing, then."
" Colin?" He asked.
" No!" Hermione replied.
" If it's either Crabbe or Goyle you need to get your head checked." Harry warned.
" It isn't." She grinned.
Harry continued guessing every boy in Hogwarts. Soon dawn had come and she was blinking sleepily. She kept interrupting him, insisting to go back to Hogwarts, saying he'll never guess and if he did he might not like her as a friend anymore. Harry was even more puzzled and kept asking. Finally, he asked:
" I don't know. There's nobody left. Unless. . . Professor Snape!?" He exclaimed.
" No!" Hermione began to laugh. " It isn't a teacher."
" Is it. . ." Harry thought hard. Suddenly, his heartbeat quickened. " . . .Me?"
Hermione blushed. Even in the rising sun you could see the warm rosy colors playing on her cheeks. She gave a slow nod. " I didn't want to tell you. I thought you still liked Cho, and you would date around with Lavender and Parvati. I know I have no chance, Harry, but I suppose its better that I told you now then if I never did. Do you still want to be friends?" She turned tear-filled eyes towards him.
" You were crying because of me?" He felt a flood of emotions cross him. "Oh, Hermione, but you do have a chance. . ." He stopped, and instead of letting words finish what he meant, he kissed her, passionately. It was what he wanted to do for so long, and it felt so right. And judging from Hermione's reaction, she agreed.
A/N: Ah I don't know if this is fluff or not but it's sappy :o)! I just love H/Hr pairings, but I hate them if they go past PG-13, if you know what I mean. . . I wrote this short fic from my school computer. I'm only 14 so no flamers, please. Thank you and hope you liked it.
A well-trod path bends the tall spear-grass amongst the whispering willow trees, with blossoming magnolias, bearing the white and rose pink flowers in which pools of fresh rainwater gather, from which the fairies drink at the break of the dawn. Shooting high into the sky are corn stalks, thousands of them, running across hills and far into the horizon, where the faint blue outlines of the thunderous mountains stand.
In this peaceful land, it seems, nothing disturbing could happen. Harry feels the wind rustle through his hair, sending a few black strands into his eyes, and he blinks. Suddenly, a loud sound fills the night air. The image disappears and he is back inside his common room, the peaceful dream gone, his eyes scanning the room nervously.
It was still, almost frozen in time.
He reached for his glasses. The room slowly came into view, and his eyes fixed on someone outside. It was a student, most likely, about his height, fleeing the building, a thick brown burlap cloth wound around him.
" Who in the world could that be?" Harry wondered, slowly rising from his seat. He moved towards the window, his hands wrapping over the cold parapet, and he stared intently through the darkness as the figure disappeared far into the forest.
" Odd." He remarked, and curiosity took over him. Who was this mysterious person? Should he go after this person?
He decided to follow this person, knowing that a fleeing human could only mean trouble. He dressed quickly in the pitch black and felt his way out into the hallway. Afterwards, it was easier to go outside. A blinding whirlwind of snow enveloped him. He cried out in surprise and tried to shield his glasses for he was having a hard time seeing.
The freshly-fallen snow covered any footprints he could follow. Hugging his warm overcoat to himself, Harry trudged forwards. Soon he found himself shielded from the snow as he neared the woods. It had been a monstrously long walk but he passed time quickly, thinking up tales over who the mysterious stranger was.
His eyes stopped at a scrap of brown material fluttering on the knobbed limb of a bush. He pulled it off, feeling the material, and suddenly knew who had run into the forest. It was Hermione, with her new cloak that she'd gotten for Christmas.
He wiped the snow from his glasses and pressed on. Now that the snow had a harder time penetrating the canopy of trees overhead he could make his way by the footprints Hermione had made.
He paused in front of a bridge built over a stream that ran through the woods. There, enveloped with snow, Hermione was leaning over the rushing waters, staring into the dark churns. Her head was dropped down, her hands clutching awkwardly at the rails. Her back moved in sobs.
" Hermione?" He asked.
She turned towards him, then gasped in surprise. " Harry!" She added, angry: " You should be asleep."
" So should you." He replied.
They were both seventh years, and Hermione hadn't changed much. She wasn't very beautiful, despite how all the other girls had blossomed. Her tearful eyes met with Harry's as he cupped his hand under her chin, bringing her head upwards towards his. " Hey, what's wrong?" He asked.
" Oh, Harry." She looked down at her fingers, cold and bluing to the freezing snow that coated them. " I couldn't sleep and thought I'd take a walk. Things are troubling me."
" What things?" He leaned on the railing. Clumps of snow fluttered from it and dropped into the icy water, ripples spreading and fading in the blackness.
" You wouldn't understand." She looked upwards into the sky, snowflakes getting caught on her eyelashes. Harry knew she was looking up to keep tears from coming down.
" What if I did understand? You wouldn't know unless you told me." Harry replied.
She smiled sadly. " It isn't important. You . . . you wouldn't care."
" I care already." Harry said, his hand wrapping around her shoulders. "Come on, Herm, we've been best friends since our first year here. You can tell me. I won't tell another living soul, not even a diary."
Hermione cried harder.
Harry was worried. What had he done? He searched his pockets for a handkerchief and finding none, he decided to leave her be. " Would you tell me if I guessed?"
She nodded. " I suppose, since you never will guess."
" Is it. . . girl stuff?" He felt himself blush.
She shook her head furiously.
" No?" Harry realized his main guess was incorrect and now grew silent. Then, he got an idea: " Did someone make fun of you?"
" No." She replied, wiping another tear from her eye. " Please, Harry, I should just be alone. It would be better then getting you. . . involved." She blinked, sending a few white snowflakes to tumble down onto her cheeks. They melted into what looked like more tears.
" Does it have to do with boys?" Harry finally asked, completely bewildered.
She nodded slowly, looking away from him in shame.
Harry felt his stomach wring. He had realized he cared a lot about Hermione, even more then a best friend, in his fifth year. Now he wondered if he should really persist. What if he found out she was in love with someone else?
Harry glanced at the churning water below them and swept more snow down at it. " Is it Draco?"
She shook her head.
Harry was glad it at least wasn't Draco Malfoy, of all boys. " Ron?" He asked.
" No." She said.
" Neville?" Harry's guess made her laugh.
" Harry, it isn't. Really, I don't have time for guessing games. Let's go back to Hogwarts before we get in trouble." She turned to head for Hogwarts but he took her hand. Their hands were both wet with snow.
" Please tell me. I at least deserve to know." Harry insisted. " I've told you everything I could possibly tell you. I told you I liked Cho when I stopped liking her in the fifth year, and then I found out you had gone to the dance with Viktor Krum. It isn't as if we hadn't told each other before." Now Harry really wanted to know. If it weren't him, and if he found out who it really was, then he'd back away knowing the truth. It was useless liking someone if they didn't like you back.
Hermione shivered, her hands rubbing together to keep warm. " Keep guessing, then."
" Colin?" He asked.
" No!" Hermione replied.
" If it's either Crabbe or Goyle you need to get your head checked." Harry warned.
" It isn't." She grinned.
Harry continued guessing every boy in Hogwarts. Soon dawn had come and she was blinking sleepily. She kept interrupting him, insisting to go back to Hogwarts, saying he'll never guess and if he did he might not like her as a friend anymore. Harry was even more puzzled and kept asking. Finally, he asked:
" I don't know. There's nobody left. Unless. . . Professor Snape!?" He exclaimed.
" No!" Hermione began to laugh. " It isn't a teacher."
" Is it. . ." Harry thought hard. Suddenly, his heartbeat quickened. " . . .Me?"
Hermione blushed. Even in the rising sun you could see the warm rosy colors playing on her cheeks. She gave a slow nod. " I didn't want to tell you. I thought you still liked Cho, and you would date around with Lavender and Parvati. I know I have no chance, Harry, but I suppose its better that I told you now then if I never did. Do you still want to be friends?" She turned tear-filled eyes towards him.
" You were crying because of me?" He felt a flood of emotions cross him. "Oh, Hermione, but you do have a chance. . ." He stopped, and instead of letting words finish what he meant, he kissed her, passionately. It was what he wanted to do for so long, and it felt so right. And judging from Hermione's reaction, she agreed.
A/N: Ah I don't know if this is fluff or not but it's sappy :o)! I just love H/Hr pairings, but I hate them if they go past PG-13, if you know what I mean. . . I wrote this short fic from my school computer. I'm only 14 so no flamers, please. Thank you and hope you liked it.