Hermione Jean Granger was standing in front of the window of her room, looking at the beautiful landscape in front of her. She has always loved the Christmas season, because everything turns white, and you can spend a nice evening drinking hot chocolate and reading a new book sitting in front of the fireplace, and that's what she loved to do. Outside the school park has been completely covered up by last night snowstorm, and now you could not imagine that under that white mantle there was actually a lake, with its sometimes terrible inhabitants. Being really early morning, the snow was still intact, no sign of any human being destroying its pureness.

The girl got distracted by a sound coming from behind her back, so she gave a quick look at her bed: a boy, almost a man, was sleeping in it, and its naked torso could still be seen, having all their blankets fallen on the floor after their heated night. One of the advantages of being HeadGirl, the girl thought with a smile, was finally having the chance of getting her own room, and the chance of sneaking people in it without being caught by her old roommates. The boy moved again in the bed, and she caught sight of his hair. They were not red, like everyone in the school was expecting her lover's to be. Yes, Hermione Granger was not in a relationship, or at least more than a brotherly one, with Ron Wealsey. They had been best friends for years, and so they had stayed, against everyone's opinion. Hermione's lover was not her other best friend either, the so famous Harry Potter, even though gossips have been spread around a lot about the two of them.

The boy in her bed was not someone she was supposed to be hanging out with, they were very different. They had never really talked much before, but then they had been paired up for a homework assignment and they had started meeting each other in the library, sitting at her favorite table, hidden by the other students, and surrounded by piles of books. The other students never really saw them, and their friends did not come across them too often, because they hated the other's companionship, so even the other two thirds of the Magic Golden Trio had decided it was time to find someone else to copy their notes from. Some younger girls had sometimes come to look at them, or more at him, hiding among the shelves and looking between books, but a quick glare from Hermione has been enough for them to disappear: after all, she was the Queen of the Library, and no one dared challenging her there.

The first times they had been talking only about the assignment, then they had asked some questions about the other classes, and their interests and suddenly they had found each other enjoying these moments and they kept meeting. The library, though, was no place to talk, so they moved to the lake shore, under a tree where he would have laid in the grass, head on her lap, while she read a book and gently stroked his hair. She has been really surprised that he liked her so much, at first, but now she was just used to it, and she has lost all her insecurities about her body, which he often proved to be crazy about; like last night. He had completely ripped off her uniform shirt, sending flying buttons all over the floor, so now she was standing in front of the window wearing only his shirt.

She moved her nose to her shoulder, to smell his perfume, and that smell of grass and fresh air that was always with him, a quidditch lover.

But her favorite thing about him was not his smell, not his toned abs after all those practice sessions, not his short black hair, and not even his height, which seemed to be just perfect for her to hug him, and hide her nose in the crook of his neck. No, her favorite things were his eyes. They were brown, dark brown, almost black. They were not like the ones in the movies or in the novels she often read, clear blue as the sky or green as to admire an emerald. His eyes were just dark, and when she was looking in them, she just couldn't think of anything else, she simply got lost in them.

Two strong arms hugged her from behind, and his head came resting over her shoulder, and together, in silence, they just looked at the sight in front of them.

Because that morning, there was not the Slytherin Quidditch Captain and the HeadGirl from the Gryffindor House.

That morning there was not the boy more famous for his shots with a Quaffle than for his 'Outstandings', and the girl famous for hating the most famous sport in the wizarding world he was so fond of.

That morning there was just a boy and a girl

Just Adrian and Hermione

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This is the first story I post here, and I'll highly appreciate reviews because English Is not my first language and I'll gladly accept any chance to improve.