CHAPTER ONE
Don't Cry Over Spilled Ink
Hermione stared blankly at the books and scrolls sprawled across the large library table. Flipping pages back and forth, scribbling words on bits of paper, and muttering incoherently to herself was the whole of Hermione's Friday night.
A large roar of applause sounded through the open window and Hermione's head jolted up in surprise. While studying, Hermione seemed to find herself in her own world, so it was always a shock to be jerked back into the present time.
Hermione spied Madame Pince at the window looking on at the Quidditch game in progress. A smile played upon the old woman's lips and her hands lay on the windowsill, eagerly awaiting the outcome.
Grumbling, Hermione returned to her work, not at all happy about being cooped in the library. Not that she didn't think of the room as her haven, but she would have liked to see the match between Gryffindor and Slytherin. Sighing, she set her mind on the applications to excellent universities and their essays that she needed to write. Hours later, Hermione found that she could barely keep her eyes open. Shaking herself awake she felt a sharp poke on the back of her head.
"I'm closing the library Miss Granger, gather your things and head back to you dorm."
"Yes, Madame Pince," Hermione groaned rubbing the back of her head. Filling her bag with as many books as it could handle, she still had to replace a couple books and carry a few scrolls, quills, and ink.
Walking the darkened hallway, she wasn't concerned about being out after hours, she was the Head Girl after all. As she took the stairs Hermione spotted a couple in a shadowed corner of the school.
"Oy, it's after hours," Hermione cried out. The couple, startled ran down the stairs to their own dorm. "Twenty points each for being out after..." they were already out of earshot.
Sighing, Hermione continued on to her awaiting bed and depressed now more than ever. She was tired of seeing her fellow classmates finding time for relationships. Hermione would love to find a guy to converse with, but it seemed she was merely the girl "friend" of Harry Potter and Ron Weasley. No one even seemed to think of her as a woman, and if they did, it was only as a know-it-all, stuck up, bossy woman.
Finally spotting the portrait of the fat lady, Hermione was just about to utter the password when the portrait swung open and smacked Hermione right in the face. Reaching her hands up to cup her bleeding nose, her books fell to the floor, along with the bottles of ink that shattered. Hermione, unwittingly, shifted her weight to the foot that had just moved into the puddle of slippery liquid, causing a resounding crash throughout the vacant hallway.
Laying on the ground, the seconds seemed to stretch by giving Hermione time to think upon the kind of day she was having, enough to send her into a fit of sobs.
"Hermione...Hermione don't cry. Oy, I'm a stupid git. I'm so sorry Hermione."
The voice sounded vaguely familiar but at the moment Hermione didn't really care. She merely held her bleeding nose with one hand and the back of her head with the other. Minutes later, she found the ability to stop crying and handle the situation.
Sitting up she found her books already stacked and a man leaning over the puddle of ink, showing a very shapely arse. Laughing morosely, Hermione flung her hands in the air and felt her lower lip tremble a warning. The man turned around, "Oh Thank God Hermione, I thought you would never stop crying."
In the meager light of the moon Hermione saw the face that haunted her dreams every night, the name scrawled secretly throughout her journal, the man she had crushed on and eventually grew to love, George Weasley. Hermione looked deep into his blue eyes, and let the sobs take over once more.