Disclaimer: I do not own HP or the odd rules of the English language!

Love is an Abstract Noun

Hermione's P. O. V.

An abstract noun, by definition, cannot be seen, smelt, touched, tasted, or heard. By definition, it is merely an idea, feeling, quality, or characteristic. So by definition, love is an abstract noun.

But is it really?

How can love be an abstract noun when it is so close to me every single day?

Because I do see it- every day of my life, every time I let my gaze wander to a certain redhead- a redhead named Ron Weasley. The mere sight of him causes my heart to beat faster, my cheeks to flush, and my palms to start sweating. I can see him, every freckle, every lopsided grin, every strand of red hair, every scar on every inch of his tall, muscular body. Not to mention those vivid blue eyes. When he looks at me a certain way, I feel as if I could swoon. One time I did actually pass out. Granted, that was after we'd just escaped Malfoy Manor, and I was too weak to even stand. But I digress…

How can love be an abstract noun if I can smell it every single day?

To me, at least, Ron smells heavenly. He has the customary earthy Weasley smell, mixed with his own pumpkin scent. I always make sure to take a deep breath whenever we embrace, to make sure that I never forget his scent. However, that does not seem very likely in the near future- seeing as my name- and my life- changed forever a few years ago. Three years and I still have trouble believing (regardless of the fact that we cuddle up every night) that I am lucky enough to join the ranks of the Mrs. Weasley's. Oh, Ron…!

How can love be an abstract noun if I can hear it every single day?

Whenever Ron says my name- no matter how long we've been together- my heart gives a flutter. No one else says my name the way he does; I don't think that anyone else can, since he says it in such (there is no other description) a Ron-like fashion. Ever since the Yule Ball in our fourth year, he has made sure to pronounce each syllable correctly and distinctly. He will never admit it, being as stubborn as he is, but he does it nonetheless. Sometimes, though, he will call me by my nickname- 'Mione. He is the only one I have ever allowed to call me that. I don't think that I could be able to stand it if anyone else were able to… And when he talks to me, his voice holds something that it lacks whenever he talks to someone else; that special something else…

How can love be an abstract noun when I can taste it every single day?

One thing that was in The Quibbler which I know to be true is the fact that each person has their own very distinct taste. By taste, I mean the taste of their lips. Ron tastes like honey- my honey tastes like honey. (I must be a Weasley… I've started making jokes!) He told me that I taste like pears and smell like cinnamon. He, of all people, ought to know this, seeing as he is with me in more ways than one.

How can love be an abstract noun if I can touch it every single day?

I can- and do- touch Ron every day. Sometimes, when we both come home from work, we're both really quite stressed. So we give each other backrubs. He is much gentler than most people think; he is forever asking if he's hurting me. His back is always so tense after a day's work; sometimes it takes me two hours to get all the knots out. If this isn't enough proof for me, I can touch my belly. Just a few more months, little Rosie. Just a few more months before I can feel and touch my love- my loves- even more.

So is love really an abstract noun?

*Fin*

This popped into my head during English class and fought its way out! Four or so months later, I actually typed it!

Please review! Pleeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeease! *snivels and begs*