The Smell of Him
Disclaimer: I don't own the Harry Potter series,
the characters, the setting, objects, or
creatures.
Author's Note: One of the few Ron/Hermione fics
I will write. I believe that they are cute in
theory, always fighting, opposites attracting
and all, but it would break up the trio, and
poor Harry would be left out. So, I agree more
with Ron/Draco, or Hermione/Draco. I see Harry
as being alone, being the 'lonely hero' and all.
------------------------------------------------
It was dark in the Gryffindor Common Room, the
only light in the room being the fire, almost
dead.
And the lone figure... It sat stiffly. Calmly.
Almost as dead as the fire itself. When the
other, the figure's better half walked
downstairs, the figure looked up, and it's face
brightened.
They were the only two people in the tower, or
so it seemed to them. It seemed like they were
the only two people in the world.
She sat beside him and dropped her head onto his
shoulder, burying her face into his neck,
breathing in the way he smelled... Like a
mixture of peppermint and boy. To her, boys had
a certain smell that was undeterminable. A mix
of something like sweat and something else... It
seemed delicious, but only on him. It was
disgusting on anyone else.
He sighed, his chest rising and falling with
every breath, her head rising and falling with
it.
Their eyes were fixed on the dying fire, while
their thoughts were elsewhere. Their eyes were
empty, blank, but their minds were racing a mile
a minute.
It was wonderful to be friends, they thought.
But it would be easier to transition to
something more and better if it weren't for the
cursed tripping words and sweaty palms. They
seemed to deem adolescence as awfully horrid.
But to them, right now, none of it mattered.
Everything they felt, everything they knew,
everything they wanted or had ever wanted, was
wrapped up into the small moments of staring
into the fire and breathing in the smell of each
other.
Disclaimer: I don't own the Harry Potter series,
the characters, the setting, objects, or
creatures.
Author's Note: One of the few Ron/Hermione fics
I will write. I believe that they are cute in
theory, always fighting, opposites attracting
and all, but it would break up the trio, and
poor Harry would be left out. So, I agree more
with Ron/Draco, or Hermione/Draco. I see Harry
as being alone, being the 'lonely hero' and all.
------------------------------------------------
It was dark in the Gryffindor Common Room, the
only light in the room being the fire, almost
dead.
And the lone figure... It sat stiffly. Calmly.
Almost as dead as the fire itself. When the
other, the figure's better half walked
downstairs, the figure looked up, and it's face
brightened.
They were the only two people in the tower, or
so it seemed to them. It seemed like they were
the only two people in the world.
She sat beside him and dropped her head onto his
shoulder, burying her face into his neck,
breathing in the way he smelled... Like a
mixture of peppermint and boy. To her, boys had
a certain smell that was undeterminable. A mix
of something like sweat and something else... It
seemed delicious, but only on him. It was
disgusting on anyone else.
He sighed, his chest rising and falling with
every breath, her head rising and falling with
it.
Their eyes were fixed on the dying fire, while
their thoughts were elsewhere. Their eyes were
empty, blank, but their minds were racing a mile
a minute.
It was wonderful to be friends, they thought.
But it would be easier to transition to
something more and better if it weren't for the
cursed tripping words and sweaty palms. They
seemed to deem adolescence as awfully horrid.
But to them, right now, none of it mattered.
Everything they felt, everything they knew,
everything they wanted or had ever wanted, was
wrapped up into the small moments of staring
into the fire and breathing in the smell of each
other.
