Scribbles

by purplemud

Scribble11: Luna had already warned me that those were the kind of boys who wouldn’t know how to kiss a girl properly and I plan on being kissed properly the first time

3. Her Name

Scribbles
By: Grace (purplemud)

Disclaimers: Standard disclaimers apply. If I owned HP, I'll let you in on what would happen in the final book. (snickers). Oh, and Hermione would be treated better.
Parings: H/G, H/Hr
Summary: Scribble #3: He never says my name that way: slightly choked up, filled with confused wonder and something...something so raw and precious.
Spoilers: Books 1-5-ish. Not much, really. It's more of an AU anyway.
Note: Drabbles, one-shots, some with plots, some completely random. Would love feedback. Much.

#3

Her Name

It isn't like I never notice anything. I do. I'm not blind. Not like Hermione of course, who could be all high and mighty when she wants to be, but who really is clueless about the simplest of things.

Harry loves her.

This realization came to me two nights ago when Harry finally woke up. He had been asleep for three days and I had sat by his side, patiently waited for him to wake up and open his eyes. When he finally did, he asked for Ron first and then Hermione and then Lupin and then Hagrid.

The rest of the Hogwarts population, really.

It was fine with me. I didn't want to be petty.

Besides, Harry was talking to me. Of course, he wouldn't ask for me. I was already there, by his side, holding his hand as I told him that they were all fine, waiting for him to finally wake up.

He had smiled his lost, happy smile and then closed his eyes.

I won't lie. I wish he could've at least said my name. Once would be nice. But he was tired. So I just let him sleep.

In the morning, when he woke up, he asked for the same people again, in the same order, but my name had yet to fall from his lips.

It finally did, when he asked me if I could call Ron and Hermione: "Could you call them, Ginny?"

Yes. And I did. And I watch them by the door as Ron sat at the foot of Harry's bed, Hermione silently sitting on the chair I had sat upon three nights in a row, watching and waiting and hoping and dreaming away with eyes wide open.

And then, I hear him say her name the way I had always hoped he would say my name: "Hermione."

He never says my name that way: slightly choked up, filled with confused wonder and something...something so raw and precious.

There isn't anyway to describe it – but the way he says her name, it pierces my heart and I know.

I know.