She was avoiding him.
She had been avoiding him for several days now, ever since she was foolish enough to fall in love with him in Transfiguration. She had hoped it would fade, like a passing fancy, but even now her heart would start beating faster when he was around. She always thought such things were mere metaphors and not actual descriptions of what it felt to be in love. She told herself that it was just a turn of phrase and that her heart was not actually leaping up in her chest to greet him.
Whether it actually was or not, didn't matter in the end. It sure felt like her heart was leaping whenever he was near.
She had tried to make it seem like she wasn't avoiding him. They were friends and she didn't want to make him think that she didn't like him anymore – certainly not when the opposite was true. So she had been claiming that she needed to study, that there wasn't enough time in the day to study when she had so much to do. For a while, her fleeing to the library had worked.
Then he had decided to invade her sanctuary.
He had come into the library today, ostensibly to study for the Potions exam they had next week. Hermione's mind betrayed her and whispered that wasn't the real reason he had come – rather that he had wanted to see her. She tried to stop thinking like that, to stop remembering that if she looked up she could see him, that he was so close to her and it would be so easy just to touch him slightly on the arm. She told her mind to stop imagine how it must be to kiss him for the last thing she wanted to do was to compound her mistake of falling in love with him by trying to snog him in the library. She wanted so much to focus her attention back on her work but she failed time and time again.
She could only think of him.
She stared at her book, determined not to look up although she had been on the same page for ages. She didn't dare look up and look at him for then she might betray her secret. She didn't want to tell him how she felt for everything was all too new. She still had some hope that eventually this feeling would fade and they would only be friends again. She didn't hold out much hope that he could ever think of her how she was thinking of him right now. She has seen how he had stared at the older Ravenclaw witch before and she wasn't about to try to compete. Keep it secret, keep it safe – that was the best thing she could do and with time, the feeling would start to fade.
"Hermione, can you look over this for me?" Harry asked from across the table.
She was terrified. She hadn't a clue what she should do. Then, before she could even think, she heard herself saying, "I'm awfully busy right now, Harry, and I don't have time to do your homework for you. Honestly! Can't you do anything by yourself?"
Harry flushed with anger. "Well, if you excuse me, I was just asking for you to check and see if I made any mistakes, like I always asked my friend before to do. I've never asked to copy from you," he said heatedly.
"Sorry," she mumbled. She reached for his parchment. "Here then, let me take a look at it."
"Don't bother." Harry moved his homework out of her reach. "I wouldn't want to bother you when you're so enthralled in your book that you haven't turned a page in the last half hour."
"I'm sorry," she apologized again. "I shouldn't have done that. It's just that I've been . . . under a lot of stress these last few days."
At her words, his eyes darkened with concern. "I know, Hermione. I've noticed that and I wish you would tell me." He reached out to take her hands in his. "Whatever it is, it can't be that bad if we face it together. You know that we're friends and that I'd do anything for you. So please, tell me what's wrong."
Her heart stopped.
Her voice failed.
All she could do was think how warm his hands felt around hers, and how safe she felt whenever she was around him. When she thought about it, she had always felt the most comfortable around him. There was no one else that she felt safe enough about to let her barriers down and just be herself. She thought that perhaps she had fallen in love with him because he accepted her so unconditionally. She was sure that she had at least a few quirks that he didn't appreciate but she loved the fact that he didn't go around trying to change her. Perhaps it was because he cared too much about her to try and change her – but she shook her head, she didn't want to think thoughts like that. Thoughts like that would erode the last of her protections and she would only make a fool of herself in front of him. Yet there was one insistent voice in the back of her head saying that there was nowhere else she'd rather be than sitting in the library holding hands with him.
"Umm . . . Hermione? Are you all right?" Harry looked at her, obviously worried that she hadn't responded. "I meant what I said, I really did. If you have a problem – any problem at all – just tell me about it and I'll help you any way I can. If you want to go somewhere else to talk about it, that's fine. I don't need to study that badly."
Her treacherous heart immediately leapt up with the suggestion that they go to the Astronomy Tower. That was a tempting dream – of them going up there together and to him she would make her love confession. He would blush at first and rub his hand against the back of his head, not knowing what to think or say. But eventually, he would settle down before admitting – he liked her too.
"Hermione? Please say something?" She woke up from her reverie. While she had been dreaming that lovely dream, Harry had walked around to her. His hand now rested on her shoulder and his face was so close to her, as he stared at her in concern.
He was so very close.
He was so close that if she tilted her head just so, she'd be kissing those lips she had been craving to taste. He was so close that she could feel his breath warming her, making her feel protected. He was so close that she could smell his fresh scent and nothing in the world had ever smelled better. She was willing to bet that his lips would be as warm as his hands had been. She was willing to bet that they would taste better than she could possibly imagine. She knew that she might not ever get a chance like this again. She knew that she was in Gryffindor and so she was supposed to be brave and that if she was really brave, she would take this chance and face whatever might follow. She thought to herself that if she kissed him at least she would no longer have to worry what his response would be for she would know it right away and if she had any luck in the world, then maybe he would return her feelings and if she remembered what he had said just before, then it didn't seem like he would hate her forever if he learned that she liked him the way she did and at least if she kissed him, she wouldn't always be wondering how he would taste and—
She tilted her head up and pressed her lips against his.
His eyes widened, with surprise, shock – and perhaps disgust? – she could not tell. She hoped against hope that it wasn't disgust, that it was just surprise but she didn't want to stick around to find out. She quickly drew back and swept her things into her bag. He stood there, touching his right hand to his lips, as if he could not believe what had just transpired.
She fled.