Spoiler Notice: This fanfiction contains information from "Harry Potter
and the Order of the Phoenix." If you haven't read that book, firstly get
off your ass and read it, and secondly do not read this fic.
Disclaimer: Firstly, do I look like JK Rowling? Well, true you can't see me, but trust me I'm NOT JK Rowling. This story is 100% mine, except for any information including phrases, characters, and anything from Harry Potter books by the genius JK Rowling. I only claim to own this plot. So in short, don't sue me, cause you won't win (and I don't have the money to give you if you did), I have this lovely disclaimer.
Chapter One—Daydreaming and Disappointment
Hermione POV
It's difficult to lose you best friend, even harder to lose one you love. Not any of that mushy, "love your friends" kind of thing, but the real kind of love. I should know because I lost both in one shot.
Harry Potter had been my best friend since the troll incident of our first year. Our other best friend, Ronald Weasley, also stuck with us like glue. "The Awesome Three" I sometimes labeled us, seldom were we apart. Well, except for in third year when Crookshanks constantly attempted to attack Ron's rat/man and I accidentally Harry's new broomstick confiscated. Or in fourth year when Victor claimed to be "in luff" with me, and Ron got just a wee bit livid. Okay, okay! We did fight every now and then, but in the end, when it mattered, we were always together.
I think it was roughly second or third year when I admitted I loved Harry, really loved him. Trying to talk to him, however, was resembled talking to a wall, a brick one specifically. He would clam up and not say a word, but Merlin, did his face turn scarlet! It would become a deep, dark shade of red similar to a brick, hence the comparison.
There was that one time, in sixth year, that I make an effort to showed Harry my feelings. It was a cold winters day, on a trip to Hogsmead before Christmas Break.
-Flashback-
Snow is falling lightly, coating Harry's raven hair and the air is cold enough for us to see our breaths. Trailing behind him into an alley, I take a shuddering breath before reaching forward to brush the snow out of his locks.
"Hermione? Ron?" he calls out cautiously, his body already tensing up, preparing for an attack.
"Hello Harry," I reply, my heart pounding deafeningly in my ears. "Why don't you turn around so I can give you your Christmas present?"
"Really? You've never done this before," he states, obviously surprised. As he turns to face me, I timidly positioned my right hand upon his left shoulder.
"You're right, I haven't. Now close your eyes." I smile softly as he shuts those vivid emerald eyes. Closing mine in turn, I slowly raise onto my toes, as Harry was always a few inches taller than I was. Using his body for balance, I place my frigid lips on his. The kiss was soft and perfect, the type of kiss you often read in romance novels. And just as in the books, it warms my lips quickly, well; really, my whole body heats up.
Harry is the initial one to pull away, his larger clothed hands gently gripping my own and holding them between his. For some reason, I expect love, admiration, or something of that sort to show in his features, but it isn't there. Instead, his eyes held a glimmer of sadness and pain and that breaks my heart.
"Hermione." he whispers, his voice hoarse with emotion. "We can't...this...I can't."
Angry, I yank my hands back harshly, whirling around to face away from that boy, those eyes. My own eyes prickle with the imminent build up of tears, and I am unable to look toward him again.
"What are you talking about!? Why not? I don't understand you, Harry! I practically throw myself to you and you break me and toss me aside! What else can I do, hmm? I'm not Cho Chang, but I thought at least. " I stop suddenly as his mittened hand came over my mouth, silencing me as he tilts my face to meet his with the other under my chin.
"I can't do this because...because I don't want you to get hurt. At least, not anymore than I've all ready caused by this." Taking a shuddering breath, he continues, dropping his hand from my mouth. I don't even try to speak. "Everyone I've ever loved, or has loved me, has died or had something horrible happen to them. My parents, Sirius, Lupin, the Weasleys. I don't want to include you in that horrid list. I don't want to put you at risk."
Harry speaks so softly and so tenderly that tears pour down my cheeks. Although I did not desire to hear his words, I knew in my heart that they're the truth. Even though Harry would never admit it to the world, through his touch and words that day, I knew he loved me just as much as I loved, and still love, him.
-End Flashback-
An irate hand rattles my shoulder and I realize that I'm not longer in Hogsmead with Harry. Instead, I'm staring out a twelfth story window over most of the Seattle skyline and I hear the rhythmic beat of someone impatiently tapping his or her foot.
"Damn! Daydreaming again!" I swiftly think remorsefully. I feel sick as I dreadfully twist my head to gaze up to the face of one exceedingly furious boss. Summoning the best fake smile I can conjure, I finally speak to him in a sweet voice that I did not mean to sound so small.
"Something the matter, Mr. Radcliff?"
This seemingly infuriates him further, taking his skin from a blood red hue to a shade of absurd purple plum.
"No Granger, nothings wrong. Go ahead and be in your little dream world while the rest of us are FIGHTING TO SAVE OUR WORLD! Oh, don't worry though, just because you're –the- MOST IMPORTANT PERSON HERE doesn't mean WE NEED YOU!" he screeches sarcastically for all of the State of Washington to hear.
Cringing visibly at the harsh tone Mr. Radcliff took, I scramble to get back to work while muttering an automatic "Yes sir, of course sir, won't happen again sir,"
"Make sure it doesn't," he snaps his large wobbling jaw. Waddling his enormous backside to his private office, he slams the oak door with such force that the entire staff jumps. I, on the other hand, start a stream of typing on the computer while glancing to the oak door repeatedly.
"Jeez, Hermione, are you -trying- to get yourself fired?" my friend Janet smirks, hitting my shoulder playfully. Smiling softly, I shake my head and turn back to my computer.
I've always been jealous of Janet's good looks. She has what I would call a "Barbie doll" body; she's the tall slim type, very leggy, with a face to match. I, on the other hand, haven't changed since Hogwarts. Her blonde locks are to die for, much more desirable than my bushy moose brown mass I call hair. Currently, pulled back in my typically large messy braid, threatens to break loose at a moments notice.
"You know, you could be real pretty if you just –tried-. Straighten your mane...wear a little more make-up...maybe shed a few pounds...definitely change your wardrobe." Janet comments offhandedly, counting each item off on her perfect set of manicured fingers.
"Yes I know, you've told me, let's see, hmm, every day since we've worked together!" I quickly interrupt before she got into the benefits of plastic surgery. "And each time I tell you that it's just too much work and money."
"Still..." She pouts, giving me huge blue green puppy eyes. "You need a guy in your life, but you'll never get one looking like that. I just want you to be happy."
"Gee, thanks for the confidence boost. But, for your information I am happy, I just don't want a guy." I said, noticeably terminating the conversation. Don't get me wrong; Janet is the closest friend I have had since Ron and Harry. But, I choose to not be on the dating scene. I was not compelled to love and lose for a second time. I never again sought to replicate the pain and heartache I experienced when Harry, The Boy Who Lived, died.
A/N: It's been a while since my last update, but I needed to rethink the first two chapters and make some changes. After reviewing my written work online, I discovered a few errors and rewrote some of the first chapter. I'm sorry for my stupid mistakes of wrong tenses and such. I deleted the original chapter one, but I promised there are no big differences.
Next Chapter-: We meet our mystery man, though Hermione has no clue who he really is. The real question isn't who that person is, it's how -did- Harry die.
Disclaimer: Firstly, do I look like JK Rowling? Well, true you can't see me, but trust me I'm NOT JK Rowling. This story is 100% mine, except for any information including phrases, characters, and anything from Harry Potter books by the genius JK Rowling. I only claim to own this plot. So in short, don't sue me, cause you won't win (and I don't have the money to give you if you did), I have this lovely disclaimer.
Chapter One—Daydreaming and Disappointment
Hermione POV
It's difficult to lose you best friend, even harder to lose one you love. Not any of that mushy, "love your friends" kind of thing, but the real kind of love. I should know because I lost both in one shot.
Harry Potter had been my best friend since the troll incident of our first year. Our other best friend, Ronald Weasley, also stuck with us like glue. "The Awesome Three" I sometimes labeled us, seldom were we apart. Well, except for in third year when Crookshanks constantly attempted to attack Ron's rat/man and I accidentally Harry's new broomstick confiscated. Or in fourth year when Victor claimed to be "in luff" with me, and Ron got just a wee bit livid. Okay, okay! We did fight every now and then, but in the end, when it mattered, we were always together.
I think it was roughly second or third year when I admitted I loved Harry, really loved him. Trying to talk to him, however, was resembled talking to a wall, a brick one specifically. He would clam up and not say a word, but Merlin, did his face turn scarlet! It would become a deep, dark shade of red similar to a brick, hence the comparison.
There was that one time, in sixth year, that I make an effort to showed Harry my feelings. It was a cold winters day, on a trip to Hogsmead before Christmas Break.
-Flashback-
Snow is falling lightly, coating Harry's raven hair and the air is cold enough for us to see our breaths. Trailing behind him into an alley, I take a shuddering breath before reaching forward to brush the snow out of his locks.
"Hermione? Ron?" he calls out cautiously, his body already tensing up, preparing for an attack.
"Hello Harry," I reply, my heart pounding deafeningly in my ears. "Why don't you turn around so I can give you your Christmas present?"
"Really? You've never done this before," he states, obviously surprised. As he turns to face me, I timidly positioned my right hand upon his left shoulder.
"You're right, I haven't. Now close your eyes." I smile softly as he shuts those vivid emerald eyes. Closing mine in turn, I slowly raise onto my toes, as Harry was always a few inches taller than I was. Using his body for balance, I place my frigid lips on his. The kiss was soft and perfect, the type of kiss you often read in romance novels. And just as in the books, it warms my lips quickly, well; really, my whole body heats up.
Harry is the initial one to pull away, his larger clothed hands gently gripping my own and holding them between his. For some reason, I expect love, admiration, or something of that sort to show in his features, but it isn't there. Instead, his eyes held a glimmer of sadness and pain and that breaks my heart.
"Hermione." he whispers, his voice hoarse with emotion. "We can't...this...I can't."
Angry, I yank my hands back harshly, whirling around to face away from that boy, those eyes. My own eyes prickle with the imminent build up of tears, and I am unable to look toward him again.
"What are you talking about!? Why not? I don't understand you, Harry! I practically throw myself to you and you break me and toss me aside! What else can I do, hmm? I'm not Cho Chang, but I thought at least. " I stop suddenly as his mittened hand came over my mouth, silencing me as he tilts my face to meet his with the other under my chin.
"I can't do this because...because I don't want you to get hurt. At least, not anymore than I've all ready caused by this." Taking a shuddering breath, he continues, dropping his hand from my mouth. I don't even try to speak. "Everyone I've ever loved, or has loved me, has died or had something horrible happen to them. My parents, Sirius, Lupin, the Weasleys. I don't want to include you in that horrid list. I don't want to put you at risk."
Harry speaks so softly and so tenderly that tears pour down my cheeks. Although I did not desire to hear his words, I knew in my heart that they're the truth. Even though Harry would never admit it to the world, through his touch and words that day, I knew he loved me just as much as I loved, and still love, him.
-End Flashback-
An irate hand rattles my shoulder and I realize that I'm not longer in Hogsmead with Harry. Instead, I'm staring out a twelfth story window over most of the Seattle skyline and I hear the rhythmic beat of someone impatiently tapping his or her foot.
"Damn! Daydreaming again!" I swiftly think remorsefully. I feel sick as I dreadfully twist my head to gaze up to the face of one exceedingly furious boss. Summoning the best fake smile I can conjure, I finally speak to him in a sweet voice that I did not mean to sound so small.
"Something the matter, Mr. Radcliff?"
This seemingly infuriates him further, taking his skin from a blood red hue to a shade of absurd purple plum.
"No Granger, nothings wrong. Go ahead and be in your little dream world while the rest of us are FIGHTING TO SAVE OUR WORLD! Oh, don't worry though, just because you're –the- MOST IMPORTANT PERSON HERE doesn't mean WE NEED YOU!" he screeches sarcastically for all of the State of Washington to hear.
Cringing visibly at the harsh tone Mr. Radcliff took, I scramble to get back to work while muttering an automatic "Yes sir, of course sir, won't happen again sir,"
"Make sure it doesn't," he snaps his large wobbling jaw. Waddling his enormous backside to his private office, he slams the oak door with such force that the entire staff jumps. I, on the other hand, start a stream of typing on the computer while glancing to the oak door repeatedly.
"Jeez, Hermione, are you -trying- to get yourself fired?" my friend Janet smirks, hitting my shoulder playfully. Smiling softly, I shake my head and turn back to my computer.
I've always been jealous of Janet's good looks. She has what I would call a "Barbie doll" body; she's the tall slim type, very leggy, with a face to match. I, on the other hand, haven't changed since Hogwarts. Her blonde locks are to die for, much more desirable than my bushy moose brown mass I call hair. Currently, pulled back in my typically large messy braid, threatens to break loose at a moments notice.
"You know, you could be real pretty if you just –tried-. Straighten your mane...wear a little more make-up...maybe shed a few pounds...definitely change your wardrobe." Janet comments offhandedly, counting each item off on her perfect set of manicured fingers.
"Yes I know, you've told me, let's see, hmm, every day since we've worked together!" I quickly interrupt before she got into the benefits of plastic surgery. "And each time I tell you that it's just too much work and money."
"Still..." She pouts, giving me huge blue green puppy eyes. "You need a guy in your life, but you'll never get one looking like that. I just want you to be happy."
"Gee, thanks for the confidence boost. But, for your information I am happy, I just don't want a guy." I said, noticeably terminating the conversation. Don't get me wrong; Janet is the closest friend I have had since Ron and Harry. But, I choose to not be on the dating scene. I was not compelled to love and lose for a second time. I never again sought to replicate the pain and heartache I experienced when Harry, The Boy Who Lived, died.
A/N: It's been a while since my last update, but I needed to rethink the first two chapters and make some changes. After reviewing my written work online, I discovered a few errors and rewrote some of the first chapter. I'm sorry for my stupid mistakes of wrong tenses and such. I deleted the original chapter one, but I promised there are no big differences.
Next Chapter-: We meet our mystery man, though Hermione has no clue who he really is. The real question isn't who that person is, it's how -did- Harry die.