Hermione stared at Tonks for the fourth time that day. She had come down to the kitchen of Grimmauld place with absolutely no intention of seeing Tonks there. Lupin was down as well, eating breakfast and looking, puzzled, at the ever-changing squares in the crossword of the Daily Prophet.
Hermione looked from one to the other, not sure why they would be there at the same time. Was this universe's way of punishing her for saying 'no' to Ron? Showing her the two people she wanted most, and who were coincidentally, probably together?
Lupin was who she truly had a schoolgirl crush on. She had read all about the way he should make her feel; heat beating faster, nervous butterflies invading the area where her internal organs used to be, her palms sweating a little and her stomach ever flip-flopping at whenever he looked at her or, earth-shatteringly, smiled.
However, looking at him, admiring his soft-spoken manner and kind words, his ever-tattered suits and pants, and his awe-inducing side-smiles, the most she could do was wish, strongly and legitimately wish, that what she just described was actually what was happening.
And then, in a moment, it did. Tonks, wearing a tight blue shirt and red jean pants, paired with a green cord jacket and straight, short purple hair that somehow pulled the look together, looked up and smiled at Hermione. "Wotcha, Hermione, up at last?" Hermione struggled for words, trying to put coherently that yes, she was indeed up. Yes, far as she could tell, but.. well, how was she going to put that answer into a perfectly phrased version of 'yes' to answer to Tonk's perfectly phrased greeting? Tonks was wearing purple lipstick today, too, which Hermione had never seen before but made a mental note of. All and all, she was very distracted and managed a feeble, 'yeah', before sinking down into the seat across from Tonks. Remus looked up at Hermione and smiled in way of greeting, which she returned, and then went back to his paper.
It's not as if she had formulated on her own how a 'crush' on some one ought to feel. She had, as with most of her knowledge, procured the description of wonderfully scary feelings from a book, the most romantic book she had ever read, by a young witch in Wales who wrote of characters doing simple things- going on a first date, kissing, just talking, but describing it all with startling accuracy so that one actually felt they were falling for one of the characters. That book taught her what a first date should be like, and how she wanted to be kissed, but it brought with it a starting realization; she identified these feelings to how she reacted to Tonks. Picturing Lupin or Sirius all the while, as they were her prime exposure to young attractive males, she had thought of them but felt for Tonks. Which was confusing, because she only really ever wanted to be taken on a first date, or kissed, or just talked to, by a man liked Lupin, from the book she had read. But as far as the actual looking at someone and having her stomach flip-flop, or forgetting to breathe, or being unable to formulate coherent words (which was a first for Hermione), it was Tonks all the way. She sighed and began to eat her breakfast, staring at Lupin and willing nervousness all the while.