Hermione was lying in her bed, staring up at the ceiling. She knew it was late, but as much as she wanted sleep to come to her, it wasn't happening. She just felt like telling Harry what Ginny had been doing the past weeks. She knew she was slipping him a love potion and, based on his actions, it was working. He was hanging out with her far more than he had in the past and she caught him staring at her a few times over breakfast. It broke her heart considering those stares were usually reserved for her. Sighing, she pulled back her blanket and headed down to the common room to mull things over. She was shocked to see the object of her dilemma sitting in front of her, stroking the dwindling fire. She silently made her way over to him and draped her arm over his shoulder.
"Why are you still up, Harry?" His gaze remained on the flames in front of him.
"Just wondering how I'll ever be able to forgive Ginny."
As if on cue, the fire crackled.
"But Harry, she's your…"
She suddenly became fascinated with the dying fire as well.
"No, she's not. She wanted to, but she used the wrong technique to get there. True love comes from the heart, not a potion."
Without thinking, her hand gravitated towards his heart and said, "I couldn't have said it any better."
He found her chestnut eyes and said, "Great hearts think alike."
Her serious expression quickly formed into an amused one. "I think the saying is 'great minds think alike', Harry."
"That too, Hermione, that too." He laid down on the couch and said, "Well, I'm going to bed. Night Hermione."
She positioned herself beside him and replied, "Night Harry."
Damning the consequences, they stayed like that in front of the fireplace, embracing each other, the rest of the morning, before having sleep overtake them. The last flame flickered and was gone.
