Hermione glanced up from her stacks of books and papers to see Harry fast asleep by the fireplace. The common room had long since been deserted and the only light was the crackling fire and the glow of Hermione's candelabra amongst her scrolls. Harry's head was cradled to one side in the crook of a huge, red lounge chair. One leg was slumped over the arm rest, his dress pants exposed underneath his robes. His glasses were terribly askew across his nose and his Standard Book of Spells Grade 6 lay propped in his arms across his stomach. A smile curled across Hermione's lips as she watched the lighted shadows dance across Harry's face, every not and then sending a tiny shimmer over the lenses of his glasses.
Just then, Hermione heard footsteps coming down from the boys dormitory, causing her to break her gaze at Harry and turn her focus back to her Alchemy report. Through the corner of her eyes, she saw tall, red-headed, and handsome Ron Weasley cross over to the chair next to Harry's and pick up an old Skiving Box Fred and George had sent him a few days ago. "Oy, Hermione," he whispered. Hermione's head shot up suddenly, and her surprised expression made Ron giggle a bit. "How long's Harry been asleep?"
"I wouldn't have any idea," she whispered back, and awkwardly returned her attention back to her essay. She head Ron laugh as he walked toward her table. "Honestly Ron, what is so funny?" she shot to him quietly, becoming quite aggravated at Ron's lack of consideration to waking Harry.
"You," he replied, wearing a very fluorescent grin on his face. "You and your girlish pride. You still haven't told him have you?"
"It was hard enough with you and Ginny finding out this past summer," she murmured angrily.
"As I recall," Ron began, leaning against the table, "you didn't make an effort at keeping your voice down when you were screaming it into Viktor's face in our backyard." It was true. Hermione sat there with a half blushing, half frigid look on her face. The summer had been a hard one for Hermione to deal with, so after she and her parents returned from Ireland on vacation, they let Hermione go visit Ginny at The Burrow. Unfortunately for her, Viktor popped up unexpectedly, and had gotten her to confess her true feelings for Harry when he tried to make an uninvited pass at her on the lakeside.
"If I were to talk to Harry, how do you suggest I strike up the conversation," she asked him, a glint of fire in her eye. "Sorry I wasn't there to help you mourn your dead godfather Harry, as I was a bit preoccupied with my parents followed by a stalking ex-boyfriend. By the way, did I mention that I have been in love with you for the past five years?" Hermione let out an exasperated sigh, threw down her quill, and slouched back in her chair, arms folded.
"Sounds fine by me," Ron said with yet another chuckle as Hermione heaved another affronted sigh. He loved getting under her skin like this, but there was a point he was trying to make, "If you don't Hermione, the two of you will only stay friends forever," Ron added sincerly, "I know that's not what you want."
"What I want is not to lose him," she said lowly, "And I'd rather have him as a friend then to do that." Just then, Harry began to moan heavily and his leg which hung over the arm rest began to twitch. Hermione shot out of her seat and rushed to him as Ron spun around and did the same. Her knees skidded across the floor as she landed in front of his chair, panting heavily fron anxiety. Harry was obviously having another one of his violent nightmares, which had been a normality since their return to Hogwarts a few months ago. Harry's moans grew increasingly into screams.
"Harry!" Hermione called loudly, "Harry, wake up!" She took a hold of his shoulders and shook him, but he continued to yell. He began to shake and sweat which sent Hermione's heart racing. "Harry, please wake up!" Hermione pleaded, shaking him desperately harder. This time, Harry's eyes shot open and he sat up with a start. Dripping now with sweat and breathing heavily, he stammered
"Wha--wha--"
"I think you were having another nightmare, mate," Ron said dimly as Hermione gently eased Harry back into the chair.
"Hand me my wand, Ron," Hermione said. Ron crossed to the table, fetched Hermione's wand, and handed it to her. "Accio Butterbeer," she spoke, swishing her wand in the direction of the Gryffindor prefect lounge across the hallway. Within seconds, a bottle of butterbeer had come floating into the common room and into Hermione's hands. She popped the cap off against her belt buckle, and handed the cold drink to Harry.
"Don't be silly, Harry," Hermione said firmly, yet gently, as Harry raised his hand about to protest. "You know you'll feel much better if you have a bit of something to drink, seeing as there isn't any other type of sweets around." As Harry took the bottle with a gracious nod, Hermione added with a look of deep concern, "Are you all right?"
"Yeah," replied Harry quietly, not making eye contact with her. Actually, he was more embarassed than anything else as he thought on the scene he must have cause. He took a swig of the butterbeer and shuddered a bit as the warm frothiness filled the core of his stomach. He cast a few embarrased glances at Hermione, who was smiling at him sheepishly before standing and saying, "Look, it's late, and um, we've got a quiz in Triple Potions tomorrow, so I should--"
"Get to bed, yeah," Hermione finished as she too stood. "Oh," she said with a tiny laugh, "your glasses." They were still resting crookedly on Harry's face. Hermione reached up and adjusted them properly. Harry smiled at her and looked over to see Ron packing a few things away in his knapsack. When he cast his attention back to Hermione, he exchanges an awkward half smile with her. He notice there was something very odd about her eyes, in the way she was looking at him, they had a spark in them he hadn't seen before. Deciding he was too tired to deal with it at the moment, Harry shrugged it off. Raising his bottle slightly he said,
"Thanks. 'Night," and hiked up the steps to his room.
"'Night," she called back, and watched him as he disappeared up to the dormitory. She didn't realize the dopey grin which must have been across her face until she caught Ron staring at her again with that same stupid smile he had been wearing earlier.
"'Night," said Ron, and started to follow Harry upstairs. Hermione let out a frustrated growl when Ron turned back to her halfway up his ascent. "Since Vikro hooked up with Parvati last week, I'd go ahead and tell Harry if I were you, before that beastly little gossip tells the whole school. Not that there aren't plenty of us who already know."
"Viktor wouldn't say anything to Parvati about it," Hermione retorted aburptly.
"Fine then, do whatcha like," Ron replied, his own patience growing thin. He had a temper to match the flaming colors of his hair, which was becoming quick to ignite at the moment. "But I wouldn't put anything past that Viktor prat. I don't care how much you still trust him, he's still a vicious little Quidditch has-been." And with that, Ron bounded up the rest of the stairs to his room.
Flushing a small shade of pink, Hermione crossed back over to the table where all her things wer strewn and packed them away. Having exerted most of her frustration with Ron, and Viktor oo, with that activity, Hermione found herself dragging herself wearily up to her room. Gratefully, Ginny, Lavender, and Padma were all still asleep. The moonlight was so bright that it filled the room completely, and negated Hermione's need to light a candle as she changed into her pink, satin nightgown. She looked into the large vanity mirror as she pulled her hair free from it's encumbered ponytail. Once it was down, Hermione shook her head freely and crumpled her fingers through the soft, brown tufts. Hermione had started to grow into a very beautiful young woman by most standards, but she thought what good any of it was if Harry didn't notice.
Emitting a heavy sigh, she walked over to her bed and crawled on top of her mattress to pull the drapes shut. Once the bright blue moonlight had disappeared from around her bed, Hermione sulkily crawled into the warmth of the sheets. Her mind always weight heavy at night, and mostly upon Harry. She knew he had been having nightmares about Sirius, and she wished there was something she could to to help him.
Both Harry and Hermione cried themselves to sleep that night, just like every night since the end of term last year.
Just then, Hermione heard footsteps coming down from the boys dormitory, causing her to break her gaze at Harry and turn her focus back to her Alchemy report. Through the corner of her eyes, she saw tall, red-headed, and handsome Ron Weasley cross over to the chair next to Harry's and pick up an old Skiving Box Fred and George had sent him a few days ago. "Oy, Hermione," he whispered. Hermione's head shot up suddenly, and her surprised expression made Ron giggle a bit. "How long's Harry been asleep?"
"I wouldn't have any idea," she whispered back, and awkwardly returned her attention back to her essay. She head Ron laugh as he walked toward her table. "Honestly Ron, what is so funny?" she shot to him quietly, becoming quite aggravated at Ron's lack of consideration to waking Harry.
"You," he replied, wearing a very fluorescent grin on his face. "You and your girlish pride. You still haven't told him have you?"
"It was hard enough with you and Ginny finding out this past summer," she murmured angrily.
"As I recall," Ron began, leaning against the table, "you didn't make an effort at keeping your voice down when you were screaming it into Viktor's face in our backyard." It was true. Hermione sat there with a half blushing, half frigid look on her face. The summer had been a hard one for Hermione to deal with, so after she and her parents returned from Ireland on vacation, they let Hermione go visit Ginny at The Burrow. Unfortunately for her, Viktor popped up unexpectedly, and had gotten her to confess her true feelings for Harry when he tried to make an uninvited pass at her on the lakeside.
"If I were to talk to Harry, how do you suggest I strike up the conversation," she asked him, a glint of fire in her eye. "Sorry I wasn't there to help you mourn your dead godfather Harry, as I was a bit preoccupied with my parents followed by a stalking ex-boyfriend. By the way, did I mention that I have been in love with you for the past five years?" Hermione let out an exasperated sigh, threw down her quill, and slouched back in her chair, arms folded.
"Sounds fine by me," Ron said with yet another chuckle as Hermione heaved another affronted sigh. He loved getting under her skin like this, but there was a point he was trying to make, "If you don't Hermione, the two of you will only stay friends forever," Ron added sincerly, "I know that's not what you want."
"What I want is not to lose him," she said lowly, "And I'd rather have him as a friend then to do that." Just then, Harry began to moan heavily and his leg which hung over the arm rest began to twitch. Hermione shot out of her seat and rushed to him as Ron spun around and did the same. Her knees skidded across the floor as she landed in front of his chair, panting heavily fron anxiety. Harry was obviously having another one of his violent nightmares, which had been a normality since their return to Hogwarts a few months ago. Harry's moans grew increasingly into screams.
"Harry!" Hermione called loudly, "Harry, wake up!" She took a hold of his shoulders and shook him, but he continued to yell. He began to shake and sweat which sent Hermione's heart racing. "Harry, please wake up!" Hermione pleaded, shaking him desperately harder. This time, Harry's eyes shot open and he sat up with a start. Dripping now with sweat and breathing heavily, he stammered
"Wha--wha--"
"I think you were having another nightmare, mate," Ron said dimly as Hermione gently eased Harry back into the chair.
"Hand me my wand, Ron," Hermione said. Ron crossed to the table, fetched Hermione's wand, and handed it to her. "Accio Butterbeer," she spoke, swishing her wand in the direction of the Gryffindor prefect lounge across the hallway. Within seconds, a bottle of butterbeer had come floating into the common room and into Hermione's hands. She popped the cap off against her belt buckle, and handed the cold drink to Harry.
"Don't be silly, Harry," Hermione said firmly, yet gently, as Harry raised his hand about to protest. "You know you'll feel much better if you have a bit of something to drink, seeing as there isn't any other type of sweets around." As Harry took the bottle with a gracious nod, Hermione added with a look of deep concern, "Are you all right?"
"Yeah," replied Harry quietly, not making eye contact with her. Actually, he was more embarassed than anything else as he thought on the scene he must have cause. He took a swig of the butterbeer and shuddered a bit as the warm frothiness filled the core of his stomach. He cast a few embarrased glances at Hermione, who was smiling at him sheepishly before standing and saying, "Look, it's late, and um, we've got a quiz in Triple Potions tomorrow, so I should--"
"Get to bed, yeah," Hermione finished as she too stood. "Oh," she said with a tiny laugh, "your glasses." They were still resting crookedly on Harry's face. Hermione reached up and adjusted them properly. Harry smiled at her and looked over to see Ron packing a few things away in his knapsack. When he cast his attention back to Hermione, he exchanges an awkward half smile with her. He notice there was something very odd about her eyes, in the way she was looking at him, they had a spark in them he hadn't seen before. Deciding he was too tired to deal with it at the moment, Harry shrugged it off. Raising his bottle slightly he said,
"Thanks. 'Night," and hiked up the steps to his room.
"'Night," she called back, and watched him as he disappeared up to the dormitory. She didn't realize the dopey grin which must have been across her face until she caught Ron staring at her again with that same stupid smile he had been wearing earlier.
"'Night," said Ron, and started to follow Harry upstairs. Hermione let out a frustrated growl when Ron turned back to her halfway up his ascent. "Since Vikro hooked up with Parvati last week, I'd go ahead and tell Harry if I were you, before that beastly little gossip tells the whole school. Not that there aren't plenty of us who already know."
"Viktor wouldn't say anything to Parvati about it," Hermione retorted aburptly.
"Fine then, do whatcha like," Ron replied, his own patience growing thin. He had a temper to match the flaming colors of his hair, which was becoming quick to ignite at the moment. "But I wouldn't put anything past that Viktor prat. I don't care how much you still trust him, he's still a vicious little Quidditch has-been." And with that, Ron bounded up the rest of the stairs to his room.
Flushing a small shade of pink, Hermione crossed back over to the table where all her things wer strewn and packed them away. Having exerted most of her frustration with Ron, and Viktor oo, with that activity, Hermione found herself dragging herself wearily up to her room. Gratefully, Ginny, Lavender, and Padma were all still asleep. The moonlight was so bright that it filled the room completely, and negated Hermione's need to light a candle as she changed into her pink, satin nightgown. She looked into the large vanity mirror as she pulled her hair free from it's encumbered ponytail. Once it was down, Hermione shook her head freely and crumpled her fingers through the soft, brown tufts. Hermione had started to grow into a very beautiful young woman by most standards, but she thought what good any of it was if Harry didn't notice.
Emitting a heavy sigh, she walked over to her bed and crawled on top of her mattress to pull the drapes shut. Once the bright blue moonlight had disappeared from around her bed, Hermione sulkily crawled into the warmth of the sheets. Her mind always weight heavy at night, and mostly upon Harry. She knew he had been having nightmares about Sirius, and she wished there was something she could to to help him.
Both Harry and Hermione cried themselves to sleep that night, just like every night since the end of term last year.