They all said that I loved you.
Of course, I denied it.
I always saw how you looked at her. I saw how you stared, dreamily at her silky black locks of hair. Thinking of the bush that's growing on the top of my head... I knew you would never feel the same for me. That didn't stop me from yearning for you. My heart pleaded for yours. My lips, forever waiting for one kiss. My arms stretching out, but to no avail.
My entire body wanted... needed... to be one with yours.
Every year, you would fight the Dark Lord.
Every single year, I feared that you would die. I feared that you would never know that I am so deeply in love with you, my bones start to ache when I think of life without you. I dream of the day when the truth will become known. I fear the day that you won't love me any more.
---
Exhausted after an hour of Potions, (and a long run from the dungeons to the dormitories) Harry collapsed onto the huge armchair in the Gryffindor Common Room. Ron and Hermione, leaning on one another for support, stood at his side, ready to listen to any lament he had to offer.
After about 5 minutes of catching up with his lungs, Harry finally said, "Damn."
Hermione raised her eyebrows. "That's all you have to say, then?"
"Yeah, that pretty much covers it." Harry smirks, and looks up at Hermione, his green eyes sparkling.
Hermione's heart skipped a few beats, and she smiled, biting her lip.
"Honestly, like Potions isn't hard enough without your teacher fantasizing about boiling your head in the cauldron," Ron semi-yelled.
Hermione gave him a look. "I'm sure that if Snape really wanted to boil your head in the cauldron, he wouldn't hesitate."
Ron and Harry grinned.
"I'm sure it's only a matter of time.." Ron started, and Harry cut him off with, "Before Neville does the job for him, on accident, of course."
Hermione laughed, "Of course." ---
It was late at night, and Hermione couldn't get to sleep. Her mind was reeling with thoughts of Harry. His eyes, his smile, his messy black hair, his laugh... Everything about him. 'What is going on!?' she thought. 'Why don't I just... tell him?'
'Because,' interrupted a voice in the back of her head, 'You're afraid of rejection.' It stated, smartly. Hermione sighed. She made up her mind, tomorrow she was going to tell him. Tomorrow Hermione Granger would tell the truth.
'Tomorrow.'
And with that, Hermione fell asleep.
Of course, I denied it.
I always saw how you looked at her. I saw how you stared, dreamily at her silky black locks of hair. Thinking of the bush that's growing on the top of my head... I knew you would never feel the same for me. That didn't stop me from yearning for you. My heart pleaded for yours. My lips, forever waiting for one kiss. My arms stretching out, but to no avail.
My entire body wanted... needed... to be one with yours.
Every year, you would fight the Dark Lord.
Every single year, I feared that you would die. I feared that you would never know that I am so deeply in love with you, my bones start to ache when I think of life without you. I dream of the day when the truth will become known. I fear the day that you won't love me any more.
---
Exhausted after an hour of Potions, (and a long run from the dungeons to the dormitories) Harry collapsed onto the huge armchair in the Gryffindor Common Room. Ron and Hermione, leaning on one another for support, stood at his side, ready to listen to any lament he had to offer.
After about 5 minutes of catching up with his lungs, Harry finally said, "Damn."
Hermione raised her eyebrows. "That's all you have to say, then?"
"Yeah, that pretty much covers it." Harry smirks, and looks up at Hermione, his green eyes sparkling.
Hermione's heart skipped a few beats, and she smiled, biting her lip.
"Honestly, like Potions isn't hard enough without your teacher fantasizing about boiling your head in the cauldron," Ron semi-yelled.
Hermione gave him a look. "I'm sure that if Snape really wanted to boil your head in the cauldron, he wouldn't hesitate."
Ron and Harry grinned.
"I'm sure it's only a matter of time.." Ron started, and Harry cut him off with, "Before Neville does the job for him, on accident, of course."
Hermione laughed, "Of course." ---
It was late at night, and Hermione couldn't get to sleep. Her mind was reeling with thoughts of Harry. His eyes, his smile, his messy black hair, his laugh... Everything about him. 'What is going on!?' she thought. 'Why don't I just... tell him?'
'Because,' interrupted a voice in the back of her head, 'You're afraid of rejection.' It stated, smartly. Hermione sighed. She made up her mind, tomorrow she was going to tell him. Tomorrow Hermione Granger would tell the truth.
'Tomorrow.'
And with that, Hermione fell asleep.