A/N: Why, hello there! First and foremost, I would like to thank you for clicking on this story of mine. This is my first time writing a Harry Potter one shot. And I'm not exactly ace at one shots, so ... HAHA. Anyways, enjoy! (Hopefully!)
O O O
Of Paper Planes, White Shoe Laces and Love Notes
"Hermione?"
"Hmm?"
"I need to tell you something."
Ronald Weasley looked on earnestly at a very serious-looking Hermione Granger. The two friends were in the Gryffindor common room, working on their homework. Well, in Hermione's case anyway. Ron, on the other hand, was busy making different models of paper planes out of old parchment paper. "Hermione?" the red head repeated, fingering the wing of one of his latest paper plane model. "Are you listening to me?"
"Hmm?" was the bushy-haired girl's short reply. Hermione continued to scribble non-understandable words into her parchment paper.
Ron rolled his eyes. "Never mind, then." He got up slowly from the red armchair, making several 'ooh' and 'aah' noises in hopes of capturing the bookworm's attention. The girl didn't respond, severely engrossed in her Potions homework. The boy sighed, stretched for the last time and made his way towards the boy's dormitories.
"Goodnight, 'Mione," Ron called out over the silence of the common room.
"Hmm?" replied Hermione.
The sound of the boy's footsteps faded slowly, and soon, Hermione was left alone with only her books, parchment and Ron's paper planes for company. The girl continued to write, the scratching sound of her quill louder than ever. Hermione yawned. Boy, was she tired. She was only at the 32nd page of her Potions essay, and she needed to write more or she would have to kiss her good grade in that said subject goodbye.
Must write more, must write more...
The bushy-haired Hogwarts student felt her eyes droop dangerously. The words she had written on the parchment seemed blurry. Weird, she thought. Hermione prided in the fact that she had extremely good eyesight. Her quill dropped from her hand. The soft thud it made when it touched the floor did not seem to disturb her from her waiting slumber.
Must write more, must write…
o o o
Hermione woke to a sudden bumping on the side of her head. One of Ron's paper planes fluttered to the ground, right beside her fallen quill. Laughter followed the fall of the paper plane, and the girl could hear running footsteps heading towards the common room entrance. "Stupid first years," she grumbled, rubbing her eyes. After stretching her aching body, Hermione glanced ahead towards the big common room window. Sunlight was streaming through, casting the whole room in yellow brightness.
"G'morning, 'Mione!" A cheerful Ron already in his school robes appeared in front of her. "Don't tell me you fell asleep here?" The boy scratched his fiery red hair, looking slightly worried.
"I chose to fall asleep here," Hermione fibbed lightly, her cheeks pink. "I was thinking that there was just too much to finish that I decided to just sleep in the common room."
"Of all the furniture in the common room, you chose to sleep with half of your body on the table?" Ron's eyes were wide.
Hermione cleared her throat. "Yes, I did," she retorted. "And- as opposed to your perception- the table was rather comfortable, thank you very much." The girl refrained herself from wincing at the ache her body had decided to succumb to.
The red-headed boy did not look convinced. "Whatever you say, Hermione…" he said, his eyes wandering. "Say, what do you reckon is that?" Ron pointed his finger towards Hermione's right.
The bushy-haired girl looked towards where her friend was pointing. Sure enough, there was a small box on the right corner of the study table. The box was plain, but coated in a very mesmerizing colour of red velvet. Feeling slightly awed, Hermione grasped the small box in her hands. It was slightly on the heavy side. Heavy for a small box, that is. When opened, the girl's eyes widened. Nestled in the middle of the box was a new bottle of ink, and under it, a small piece of folded parchment paper. With trembling hands, Hermione unfolded the paper to reveal three simple, but meaningful lines in very neat handwriting.
Good morning, Hermione. Hope you didn't write too much. See you at breakfast.
"Bloody hell, 'Mione; you've got an admirer!" Ron exclaimed, reading over her shoulder.
Hermione swatted her friend defensively. "I do not!" she cried indignantly, clutching the mystery note in her right hand and punching Ron with the other.
"Whoa, whoa, fine, you don't have a secret admirer! Don't get your knickers in a twist, 'Mione!"
"Oh, for the love of Merlin!" The fiery girl grabbed the nearest paper plane and launched it at the red-headed gangly boy in front of her, with very poor aim at that.
Ron ducked easily and laughed heartily. "You'd better get ready, 'Mione. Breakfast's already started." The boy walked towards the common room entrance. "And your secret admirer will be there. Try combing your hair, for starters," he added cheekily, followed by a scream of rage from Hermione who threw another but larger paper plane at him, which he ducked swiftly.
o o o
"Now class, please open your text books to page fifty-four and read the following instructions on how to create a sleeping draught."
Severus Snape glided down the aisle of the dark classroom, his sharp eyes scanning the rows of students on either side of him. Hermione, being the smart bookworm she already was, had already read the whole Potions text book, and was staring absently at the page their professor had asked them to read. Her thoughts wandered towards the mysterious red velvet box she had received, which she kept hidden in her robes as a precaution towards Ron's quick hands.
That morning during breakfast, the bushy haired girl had sat stiffly at the table, barely touching the food spread out in front of her. She had glanced curiously around, hoping that the note sender would own up and tell her that it was all just a joke. Ron had explained the whole story of the mysterious box to their other best friend Harry Potter, who had agreed with the red head about her having a secret admirer. Harry's agreement resulted in a goblet full of pumpkin staining his shirt. Hermione had no limits when it came to defending herself.
Potions class carried on in the usual way, with Neville Longbottom passing out cold on the dungeon floor after drinking something Draco Malfoy had claimed was pumpkin juice. Class had to be ended early, and Professor Snape was forced to drag Neville all the way to the hospital wing.
Hermione was the last to step out the dungeon classroom, and when she did, she tripped over something invisible causing her to fall onto the floor with a loud thud. Her two friends were walking way ahead of her, chattering about Quidditch and other strange issues boys talked about. Her books were spilled all over the floor. Sighing, the girl got up on one knee and began to gather her fallen things.
As Hermione picked up her Potions text book, something fluttered down from in between the pages- a folded piece of parchment paper. Her heart thudded in her chest. Was the paper from her so-called secret admirer? The girl unfolded the paper within nanoseconds.
Hey, Hermione. Your hair looks beautiful today. You should wear it like that more often.
Three lines, the same neat angular handwriting… yes, definitely from the same person. Hermione shook her Potions book furiously, hoping that another note might appear. Instead a hair bow the colour of red champagne floated onto the ground. Her heart skipped a beat, and the girl clutched at the ponytail she had decided to sport that day.
Who was this person who kept sending her these notes? How did he manage to slip the note and hair bow in her text book? Hermione shook her head anxiously as she got up and proceeded to her next class.
o o o
"So, 'Mione, any more notes from the secret admirer?" Ron waggled his eyebrows at Hermione over his chicken pie.
Harry Potter chuckled and echoed his red-headed friend, "Yeah, any more notes from the secret admirer?"
Hermione frowned at the boys while stabbing furiously at her lunch. Her left hand unconsciously rose to tug at the bow on the top of her ponytail. Her eyes widened and she quickly snapped her hand back to the table, hoping that her friends didn't witness what she had done.
Unfortunately, Ron noticed and he nudged Harry beside him, smirking and nodding his chin towards Hermione's head. "Looks like someone likes the gift her secret admirer gave her," the red head muttered loudly enough for the girl to hear.
"Shut up!" Hermione reached across the table and swatted at Ron's head, her cheeks turning a deep shade of red.
"Crazy, this one," the red head of the trio remarked. "Don't know how her secret admirer fell for her."
Feeling exhausted, the girl merely stabbed at her chicken pie. It was decided that ignoring Ron was her newest and best policy. After having stabbed a nice huge chunk of pie onto her fork, Hermione brought it towards her mouth and bit on it. Something hard and flat clinked against her teeth and the girl squealed in surprise as another folded piece of parchment appeared in between her teeth.
"Oh, wow, he hid a note in your lunch! He must really like you!" Harry said, grinning in awe.
After tugging the piece of paper back from Ron's quick (and dirty) hands, Hermione immediately unfolded it. She felt like she couldn't breathe.
Hi again, Hermione. You don't seem to like chicken pie very much. How about something sweet?
Something sweet? The girl looked at her pie, which now had a hole right in the middle, after having been stabbed one too many times. She moved a few chunks of apple filling and right at the bottom of the pie laid three pieces of jelly beans. Each jelly bean was a different shade of red.
First, an ink bottle; second, a hair bow and now this? Hermione stared at the jelly beans, bewildered. And why were all the gifts red? What did all that mean? The girl continued to stare at the jelly beans as if they were mutant hippogriffs. Ron eventually got impatient and popped all three pieces into his mouth at one go.
o o o
"Ronald, why in the world are you wearing different coloured laces on your shoes?" Hermione asked, looking bewilderedly at her friend's shoes.
Ron shrugged, rocking on the heels of his second-hand shoes. "My other white shoe lace is gone," was his simple reply. He then grinned charmingly at his friend, causing Hermione to flush slightly.
"So you decided to wear a red shoe lace on the other shoe," the girl stated slowly, as if talking to a toddler.
Ron shrugged again. "Looks like it."
Hermione looked around the deserted corridor and sighed, partly because of her friend's abnormal taste in shoe lace colours and partly because she hadn't gotten the chance to continue her Potions essay that day. She then turned towards the red head. "It's free period. Let's go to the library."
The boy groaned. "You're all work and no fun, 'Mione," he grumbled. "Let's go laze around the courtyard."
Before Hermione could reply, Ron grabbed her hand and dragged her outside. The evening sky was still a beautiful dark blue and the cold wind breezed by them in comfortable silence. Still holding her hand, the boy pulled Hermione towards a bench situated underneath a blossoming tree. The girl felt her heart turn over repeatedly in her chest as his warm rough hand clutched hers.
"What are we doing here, Ronald? We're wasting precious study time here!" Hermione made an attempt to turn back towards the school building.
Ron pulled her back and gently- but firmly- plopped her down onto the bench. Leaves fluttered down from the tree as the breeze blew by. The brown-haired girl wrapped her arms around her torso, shivering. The robe she was wearing was made out of too-thin material, not at all suitable for the cold, spring weather. "Honestly Ronald, are you crazy? You were planning to laze around in weather like this? All of this is crazy! CRAZY!" Hermione barked out.
Ron's eyebrows knitted together in angry surprise, and the voice that boomed out of his mouth didn't sound like his voice at all. "Is it so crazy to want to hang out with my best friend? Is it crazy, 'Mione? Is it?"
The red head's sudden outburst shocked Hermione to the core. It wasn't like Ron to burst out like that. "Ron, I-" she began to say but was immediately cut off.
"I guess I am crazy. Crazy enough to li-" Ron didn't get to finish his sentence. He stared blankly into space for a few seconds before assembling his features into a rather grim expression. "Never mind," he said roughly. The boy shrugged off his robe and wrapped it gingerly around Hermione. He then stomped off, his contrasting laced shoes making a clacking sound every time he stepped onto the paved walkway.
Hermione could only blink, as she stared after her friend sulking away. She rested her left hand on the bench space beside her and felt something bulky underneath it. The girl found her eyes focused on a regular-sized red envelope with her name written on it. She tore the envelope open and a long object fell out of it.
A shoe lace.
A white shoe lace.
"Merlin's beard," Hermione whispered to herself as it dawned on her. She unfolded the note that came with the shoe lace and stared at it for a few a quarter of a minute. Then, as if struck by lightning, the girl got up and ran down the paved walkway, casting the piece of parchment paper aside. On that parchment four words jumped out in familiar neat handwriting.
I like you, 'Mione.
He had been trying to tell her all along.
FIN.
A/N: So, guys, whadya think? Review, review, review! :)