Disclaimer: I do not own Harry Potter. Or the dictionary.
It was well past midnight as she sat in the common room, in her regular chair by the fire. As usual, she held a book in her hands staring at the words and committing each one of them to memory. To anyone passing by it looked like she was just studying as she normally would be, but tonight she wasn't. The book she held in her hands now wasn't a school book nor the muggle novel that she was reading at the time. No, this time it was a dictionary.
With tears threatening to fall, she stared at the page in front of her, hating it. She already knew the definition of the word that she looked up, but she looked it up all the same. She hoped that in seeing the actual definition, she would prove herself wrong. She had been staring at the page all night, hating herself, because what was staring back at her was the definition of love.
Love [luhv]
noun, verb, loved, lov·ing.
1. A profoundly tender, passionate affection for another person.
2. A feeling of warm personal attachment or deep affection, as for a parent, child, or friend.
3. Sexual passion or desire.
4. A person toward who love is felt; beloved person; sweetheart.
5. (Used in direct address as a term of endearment, affection, or the like): Would you like to see a movie, love?
Tears spilled down her cheeks as she continued gazed at the words in front of her. Love, could it be? Was this really what she was feeling? Her mind told her that it was impossible, she could not be in love with her best friend, but her heart told her other wise.
She hated the very thought of it, being in love. She hated that it was him that she was in love with. Him, one of her very best friends. He was the one who broke her heart on more than one occasion. He was the one who was now going out with her. He broke her heart when he started dating her, and then he shattered it to pieces when he said it was love.
But surely, he wasn't in love with her, was he? It couldn't possibly be love. How could it be love when they didn't even know each other? All they ever did was snog. Since when was love determined by what the other person's mouth tasted like?
Just the thought of him being in love made her cry out and start sobbing uncontrollably. After what felt like forever of just sitting there crying her eyes out, she heard someone coming down the stairs that led to the boys dorms. Quickly, she dried her tears and tried to look like she was absorbed in the book in front of her.
She listened as the foot steps grew nearer and nearer to her spot and then, "Hermione?" she heard. "Hermione, is that you?"
She cringed at the sound of his voice. "Yes, it's me." She said as she started to play with the page with the definition on it.
"What are you doing up so late? It's nearly two in the morning, you should go to bed."
"Oh, I'm just studying, we have a potions test this Friday, remember, and the OWLS after that…?" slowly, she started ripping at the page in front of her, tears starting to glisten in her eyes.
"Damn, your right, I forgot about that." He said as he gazed at the fire with a worried expression on his face. Then looking down at her, he worried appearance turned into a surprised one. "Why are you reading the dictionary?"
"No reason, just looking up a definition," she smiled up at him as she continued to rip.
"Really? I thought you already knew everything," he smiled down at her and she couldn't help but smile back. "Hey, are you alright," he suddenly asked. "I thought I heard someone crying, that's why I came down."
She frowned up at him as she pulled on the page, "I'm quite alright, thanks. I haven't heard anyone crying; maybe you're just hearing things again."
"Hmm…maybe you're right, but still are you sure that you're okay?" he asked worriedly.
"Yes, I'm sure. I'm fine." She confirmed as the page finally let loose.
"Alright then, I'm off to bed. Goodnight Hermione." He started walking back towards the staircase. She stared at his retreating form as the tears started falling again.
Slowly, she got up from her spot, and walked over to the fire place. She crumbled up the piece of paper with definition on it and threw it in the fire and watched as it burned. She turned back around, stared at the staircase and said, "Goodnight, Harry."
Then she fell back into her chair and began to weep.
A/N: Comments and constructive criticism are welcomed. Thank you!
