People ask me when I first fell in love.

I don't know, when was it? That day you cut your hair? You were really insecure and you kept acting like a child. You were about to cry and you complained it was too short. I dragged you out of bed so that you could come downstairs. Nobody even noticed and that's when I planted a kiss right on your eyebrow, rubbed it and said, "You're so stupid."

Or was it the day I caught you dancing, slowly to yourself? You said you just had a cramp in your leg but the way you moved with the music; it wasn't possible at all that you had a leg. You turned around, opened your eyes and gave that long, outdrawn scream because you couldn't believe I had been watching. You were in shock and you ran away muttering about how your leg had been bitten by a toad or how your bone sort of struck out. You ran up the stairs and wouldn't let me call after you, which is sad, because I kind of wanted to be bitten by a toad too.

But then again maybe it wasn't those days. Maybe it was just that day where the night was dark and there was no sound but the sound coming from your mouth, always droning on and on. You were smart, you thought. Oh but you were. But you knew I was so much more clever and it bothered you. That slap I put on your face reminded me the way skin really felt. I hated the way skin felt when it wasn't natural, like Pavarti's, whose skin felt like sticky cream. But yours just felt the way skin felt. So when I felt your skin with mine just for one second, it felt too natural, too real. And that was the best part, being real. I wouldn't have it any other way.

That night, I remember the night. It was dark and hollow, there you were, only fourteen, your mouth moving. Still, still, it never stopped when I was around. It was as if I was something red, bright, alarming to you, to catch your eye, stop me, turn me around, make me react to every single blink you made. What was it like, that age, fourteen, I wonder? Even at age twenty one I still feel as if I am too old for you. Sometimes I feel like I am kissing my own child. It's disturbing in a way. But other times, like that time you carried me to bed, tucked me in, I feel like I am your child. And other times, you're just there, and so am I, we're in love. And that's all.

That's it.

I think that's when I fell in love. Everywhere, everytime. I never thought it was so possible to get a new feeling everytime I woke up in the morning whether it was in the bedroom, kitchen, the couch after a muggle movie you said you hated but really dont hate it all because it's about us just in a different way because it's about love.

That's it.

That's when I fell in love. No more I thinks. Every night, every day, every second I fall in love. I've realized for me, there's no such thing as being old, you make me feel young, new, and I am fourteen all over again. I fell in love with you, I hope you know what that means by now, and how it happens, because I don't know either. Sometimes I wake up in the morning and realize I am Hermione and it hurts to realize that. Like I was married and you took me away. But when I look at that ring on my finger it's all alright again. It's always alright when you open your eyes for the first time, and I am the first one to look at you.

Even if you don't get what I mean. Even if you don't fall for me the way I fall for you. Even if you're my husband, even like a child. Even if this is wrong. Even if I lose this someday. I'll still remember how people ask me when I first fell in love.

I don't know when. I don't care where. I always will. There's no such thing as a first anymore. Not for Hermione. Everywhere, everytime. That's when I fell in love.

And... that's all.