Disclaimer: I don't own Harry potter.
A/N: This is my first fic so please be nice! :) Constructive criticism is awesome. :) Also some parts may seem more from the movies cause I haven't read the books for a while. And he may seem a little OOC. R/R and Enjoy! :)
From Afar
I remember when I first laid eyes on her. It was the beginning of my first year at Hogwarts on the Hogwarts Express. She wasn't the prettiest thing on the planet. Bushy hair, big front teeth, and a smattering of freckles across her nose. The first time we talked I instantly knew I hated her. She had this obnoxious know-it-all attitude and intelligence I could never seem to match. Her being apart of the Golden Trio made it worse. But what really got to me was her coming out on top in all of our classes. My father did NOT like that. He thought it disgraceful coming in second best to a muggleborn.
Second year wasn't much different. We would bicker and exchange insults. It was the first year I called her a mudblood, and to be completely honest I felt a little bad after saying it. For once she didn't have a fiery retort or witty comeback. She didn't have that crinkle in her nose or that fire in her eyes that she got when she was angry. She just looked sad. Hurt. Depressed. Whatever you want to call it. Of course I didn't let any of that guilt show. I kept up that bastard facade I always wore as not to disappoint my father. He taught me to have pride in my pure blood status and to look down upon others who don't share the same.
I started seeing her a bit differently third year. I think she had a bit of a strange schedule because she dissipear and reappear at the most weird times. And she looked so tired all the time. Like she would just drop dead ant second. But she still held her head high and made sure everyone was okay. Whenever I taunted Potter about Black or Weasley about his family she would stop what she was doing and be there for them. I experienced that first hand when that hippogriff nearly broke my arm- which actually hurt REALLY bad- and was going to be executed. She came and punched me. Right in the in the nose. Saying that I didn't expect that was a horrible understatement. I was beyond shocked. I would usually expect something like that form Weasley, or even Potter. But no. it came from her. The small bookworm form Gryffindor. I would be lying if I didn't say wasn't angry. Not only cause I was punched in the face, but because a girl did it.
Though I couldn't help but feel jealous of the two boys in the golden trio. They had someone to make sure they they got all their homework done, made sure they were safe, that they had support, that they were...happy. Happy given the hard circumstances. I wished my family would do that for me. They would always leave me alone to take care of my problems, saying that I had to figure it out myself. I found myself wishing they would help me when I made a mistake and not look down at me with disappointment. I wished they wouldn't buy my love and actually spend time with me. Actually say they love me every once in a while. That they're proud of me. That year I saw her, not as some muggleborn scum, but a genuinely gracious person. But yet again I didn't tell anyone.
We continued occasionally fighting through fourth year and I was still acting like an ass. But I continued to admire her through and it grew more every day. Her kindness and selflessness astounded me. I saw her late nights in the library and extra study sessions for the tournament. While admiring her loyal attitude I started seeing her new physical view as well. Instead if seeing her hair as a bushy brown mess, they seemed more like beautiful, wild chocolate curls. She had grown into her teeth and her freckles gave her a childlike innocence that you don't see in many fourteen year old girls. She didn't pile on the makeup to make her self look like a fake mess. Neither did she dress up to too often. Just the usual jeans and a sweater. Yet she pulled it off perfectly. Everyday my attraction for her grew until I finally admitted it to myself. I thought she was beautiful. My heart nearly stopped when I saw her at the Yule Ball. She looked like an angel in her beautiful pink dress. Her shining smile was nearly blinding and I could see how beautiful she felt. At that moment I knew I loved her. The thought scared me a bit and tried to fight it. But I couldn't ignore the butterflies in my stomach or the re-occurring dreams of her. I had dreams about her triumphant smile she got when she accomplished something. Her tinkling laugh I can hear from across the hall. I had dreams about her dancing honey colored eyes that held a beautiful passion in them whenever we bickered. I had other dreams that I wouldn't tell you about. After that I new I couldn't ignore the huge problematic fact that was staring me right in the face. I loved her intelligence, poise, and her unwavering loyalty. I loved her.
It killed me through fifth year to all of those awful things for Umbridge. I didn't like that toad all to much, but I feared what my father would think if I didn't.
It always came back to that. Fear of my father. It kept me from doing so many things. I resented him for that. I was angry at him for not giving me the freedom to do as I please. For never being proud of me. For trying to making me into the person I was ment to be and not the person I want to be. I don't want do shove my status down others throats. I don't want to follow in his footsteps and do the Dark Lords evil works. I want to make my own choices and I want to decide for myself on what I want to do with my future. Most of all I want to love my angel.
If I thought that doing those things for Umbridge killed me, then it was nothing like this year. Sixth year. Getting that cursed dark mark is destroying me. I am betraying my angel and everything she stands for. The very thought pains me. I am working for a mad man whose number one goal is to rid the wizarding world of people like her. And now I am to kill Albus Dumbledore. The only one who can aid Harry Potter in saving the world, and my angel, from pure blooded aristocrats. I can only pray to whatever god that exists that I can get out of this and that Potter will save us. I pray that one day I can tell my angel how I feel and she will forgive me with time. I pray that one day I will be able to hold her. I will be able to kiss her. I pray that someday I will be able to caress her with a gentle tenderness and shower with loving and words that not even the most gifted poet is capable of. But for now I will watch her from afar and make sure she is protected, even if she doesn't know it. For now I will love Hermione Jean Granger from afar.