A/N: Hello! This was written for the Descriptive challenge over at HPFC. The challenge was to write a story without dialogue, and I hope that I've done the challenge justice. Well, I hope you enjoy it!
Obsidian Night
Hermione sat in the darkest corner of the Gryffindor common room, observing everything that was going on in the large room.
The few small first years that were still up watched with fascination as Fred and George played Exploding Snap. Their tall, lanky frames had a golden glow about them from the warm fire.
Harry sat at a table not far away from the game, working on homework with Ginny. They sat by a window, not unlike the large, crystalline one Hermione sat by.
And Ron... well, that blundering idiot was still fawning over Lavender. The sight of him made her want to turn the other way – and she did, finding herself looking out the window into the dark night.
She watched her reflection in the tall window – amused at the single tear that rolled down her face, then full of shame. Why did he have any right to make her upset?
Anytime she saw him, against her better judgment, she felt a pain so sharp in her heart that Hermione believed it to be physical pain. It was easy for her to describe it – it felt as though a shard of ice had been plunged through her heart, leaving her feeling numb from the pain and cold from the ice. And Ginny was the only person she trusted to tell about the pain she felt; but then again, it was awkward. Why would she want to hear about someone feeling hopeless over her brother?
Because of that, Hermione had taken to her books. The library and herself go to know one another as they once had, back in her first year before Ron had decided to grow up. Every waking moment that she didn't spend asleep, eating, or in class was spent in the library. That fact didn't bother her, but she could tell from the fleeting glances Harry gave her in passing that he was worried about her.
Then all of a sudden, something changed. Hermione didn't see it coming – maybe because she was so caught up in hating Ron that she didn't see that Lavender was nowhere to be found, or that Ron had suddenly appeared in the reflection on the window.
Hermione, against her better judgment, turned away from the comfort of the black, obsidian night and faced the man who had been the bane of her existence for months.
She opened her mouth to say something, but her words were caught in her throat. God, his eyes- they took her breath away with a vengeance. Her mind was lost in that instant – the gold light of the flickering flames reflected in his eyes. Then he smiled at her, and she was past all logic. She was lost to the world as he bent forward and gently brushed his lips against hers.