L: Love Isn't Learnt From a Book
Author Note: Am I Joanne Kathleen Rowling? Nope. It's not mine, then. The scene outlined in the first poem, now from Hermione's viewpoint. The poems will progress through the timeline of Goblet, I just HAD to write the Triwizard opening feast through Hermione's eyes, for continuity's sake, if you can call it that.
Seeing all the French girls in all their glamour, it made Hermione's stomach burn.
Utter snobs she thought, but then she saw someone that made her head turn.
A blonde with a graceful smile, who bowed gracefully, with poise.
Hermione's mind couldn't connect to her mouth, she couldn't make a single noise.
This mysterious beauty defied her views, and all the criticism connected.
The girl was dazzling, once Hermione thought about it, nothing like she suspected.
Something told the bookworm that this part-Veela didn't seem like the stuck-up type.
The blonde girl seemed to have something about her looks, despite all the hype.
But Hermione's heart started to race, her pulse was the roost the girl would be ruling.
For once the Gryffindor had been outdone by her heart - who was she fooling?
The French enigma was amazing, surely a true saint.
One thing for sure - Hermione's rush of affection for her was unable to taint.
It was weird the bookworm thought, how her heart was beating outright.
Only a glimpse, a glimpse at the most, and it was truly love at first sight.
A conclusion formed in her head, from just one simple look.
In regards to Hermione's French wonder, love isn't learnt from a book.
