I sighed. I had, once again, been beaten. Every year since I could remember, I had applied for the post of Defense Against the Dark Arts proffessor, and every year I was turned down. Quirrel, Lockhart, Lupin, Moody and even Umbridge were just a few of many who had claimed victory over me. Each year, more annoyed than the previous, I would do anything in my power to make the winner miserable. Every year, that is, except for the last.
When Hermione Granger had arrived at Hogwarts to apply for a job, she was somewhat of a celebrity. 'The Brightest Witch of Her Age', ex-girlfriend of newly appointed Minister of Magic Ronald Weasley, and best friend of 'The Boy Who Lived', Aura Harry Potter. Everyone wanted to be her friend, all the boys had a crush on her, and all the girls wanted to be her.
McGonagal quite happily gave her the position. A small part of me thought is was because of her fame, and her beauty. That she was just getting special treatment. The rational part of me knew it was becuase she deserved it. Potter couldn't bring the downfall of Voldermort on his own, everyone knew that! She outsmarted many an intelligent wizard during her time as a student at Hogwarts, of course she got the job.
I was very bitter for the first couple of months. Then I realised why I was so bitter. She never spoke to me, it was as if she were avoiding me! Perhaps I was a physical reminder of the war, one more damaged soul she had to see every sing day. Or maybe she still hated me from my bullying demeaner whilst she was my pupil. Or maybe she just didn't like me. It didn't really matter which, I wasn't satisfied with being ignored.
It took me a while to fully understand why I was so upset with her, and when I finally did, I was so shocked, I almost forgot to breathe. I was in love with her. In a way, I suppose I always had been. She reminded me so much of Lily in her first dew years, then from her fifth year onward, I realised she was her own person. A beautiful young woman, quite clearly capable of anything. I adored her.
Then, the war began. She was only seventeen, barely out of childhood, and she coped so well. I was so in awe of her abilities. I had always underestimated her strength, we all had, and then we all really saw it, saw her. Then, when the war was over, an eighteen year old young woamn came back to Hogwarts to finish her studies, and it was extremely apparent that that Hermione Granger was more than ready to be an adult.
When she left Hogwarts at age nineteen and practically dissapeared. She had broken up with Ronald before she left, and he used her rejection as fuel to move up in world. He became Minister of Magic, and made sure that everyone knew that the ginger haired, hand-me-down robe wearing, youngest Weasley boy, was in charge of the Wizarding World. Even Harry, Hermione's closest friend, had no idea where she had gone.
Then, two years after she had dissapeared, she re-surfaced. She had spent time with Vitor Krum and his fiance in Russia. Then some time with Hegrid and his brother in The Alps. Then, some time alone, in America. She was now twenty-two, and had aged very well. She was breath-taking. Gorgeous. Every man's fantasy. And I fell so hard it hurt.
After that, I spent every waking minute trying to make her notice me. Purposely sitting beside her at meal times, asking to borrow books from her. Anything to just speak to her, and be near her. But, alas, nothing seemed to be working. Then, one night after a stressful day, she came by my classroom. She asked for a sleeping drought, and I brewed her one. Then she kissed him. And I loved it. And I kissed back. And we said we loved each other, and meant it.
After months of hiding our relationship, we finally told the world. The press was all over us, wanting to know every intimate detail of out time together. Of course, we told them nothing. We were us, and we were the only people who had to know anything about it, that was all there was to it, really. Then, this year, we both applied for the position of the Dark Arts, and she beat me. Again. But, we'd promised that there would be no bitterness, not this year.
We couldn't. We had agreed not to move too fast, that we should take it slow and steady. Up to now, the most we've done is get a little frisky when kissing. For most men, this would be annoying. They would be desperate for some...attention. Some would even look else-where for it, but not me. I have what I want. Not the Dark Arts position, not sex, not even more money than sense. No, I have my Hermione, and I intend to keep her. Forever.