"Hermione?" I ask.
"Mmm?" she mutters.
"What are you doing?"
"Honestly, Ron. Can't you see?" she continues to write her 15 foot long essay for Charms.
And, yes. I see. But, she doesn't see. I'm pretty sure she never will. I try to look into her eyes, but they're covered by that bushy hair of hers as she leans over her parchment. I can almost smell the delicious scent around her. It's a sweet smell, a compelling smell. But, I just can't put my finger on what it is. She runs her hand through her hair hastily. As much as I want to lean close to her and stay there for as long as I can, I resist. I'm a good boy and I know she doesn't feel the way I feel about her. She's scribbling furiously over her parchment.
"When is it due?" I ask. I just can't seem to form more than a question around her, can I? I'm such a bloody git.
"Four weeks from today," she answers unsteadily. I see something fall onto the parchment, a tear.
"'Mione. Are you alright?" she ignores me and writes faster.
I feel my confidence building. Does she love me the way I love her? What will she do? What will she say? Another tear falls onto the parchment.
"'Mione?" I ask again. This time I take a quiet deep breath and move closer to her on the couch. I slowly put my arm around her shoulders. I can feel her trembling slightly and I know something's wrong.
"What's wrong?" I question.
She looks up at me with those compelling caramel eyes and I don't hear the fire crackling behind us. I don't hear my deep nervous breathing. All I see is Hermione with tears rolling down her face. She shakes her head and attempts to go back to writing, but I've already seen her parchment. It's blurred with fallen tears and crossing outs with ink. There's barely anything useful for the essay. This isn't like Hermione. I stroke my shaky hand through her hair. I see no reaction and grab her delicate face with both my hands, wiping away her tears.
"I can't stand to see you cry, Hermione," I say unsteadily. Another tear rolls down her face.
I feel like her presence is drawing me in as I move closer. I press my lips gently on hers, afraid of the reaction. Finally, all my feelings relieved. I pull back nervously. She smiles and kisses me. Hermione Granger, love of my life, is kissing me! I place my hands timidly on her small waist. I can feel her mouth forming a smile as she wraps her hands around my neck and I open my eyes a peek to see her slight blush. She pulls away reluctantly.
"I love you, Ron," she says quietly.
"I love you, too, 'Mione," I say as I pull her back into a kiss smiling.
In that mesmerizing kiss, we didn't see Harry enter the common room.