I want you to want to want me

I even go through all outs

I try my best impress you

To get rid of your doubts

Do you know when I first saw you, I really thought that you were very kind. Guess what, you were. During the first few weeks that I knew you, I noticed that something was off . . .something not right about you . . .something . . .

Different.

Anyway, I developed a crush on you that time. Well, maybe not a crush but it certainly was something. And that something was strong.

I think that perhaps that something was the reason why I went though all that trouble just to impress you. Shallow, but true. You know all those answers I gave you? I almost stayed up all night for them.

Why do you think I went all though those trouble? For the kicks of it? I don't think so. Boy, was that a very hectic year.

All year long, that time I mean, I told myself, forced myself to believe that it was just a silly crush. The phrase 'it is just a phase, it will not last' was very often chanted back then.

I do everything in my power

I try my best to catch your attention

I stare at your back, sitting still

With bated breath and anticipation

And when you came back, well . . .the so-called 'non-existent' feelings I had for you came flooding back . . .I was actually overwhelmed by the sudden rush of emotions the first time I saw you at the Great Hall. Trust my friends to not tell me such events.

I never thought that I had them, the feelings I mean. Well, that's not all true . . .somewhere in the back of my mind, I knew that I had them, but I guess I never actually admitted them to myself. And the fact that the simple act of you smiling at me made my knees weak was . . .scary.

I thought that since now, I am older, you would see me differently. In a different light, since I am all grown-up now. This is, after all, the night when I graduate.

Yes, one more night before I am free. And legal.

I pulled the same tricks on you back then. Cleverness, if you know what I mean. But of course, there was the addition of swaying my hips there, batting of eyes here. I did the usual flirting, the things that I was supposed to be too smart for to do. I guess the silly idea that you would see me differently . . .as a woman . . .got stuck to my head and encouraged me to be bolder. I didn't care what the others would say, though I guess I was still timid in our generation's eyes, because I think only a few noticed.

Even though the others might not have noticed, you must have been blind or something not to notice all of my effort.

I want to feel your lips

To claim you as mine

I want to hold your hands

To smell your scent that resembles wine

Did you ever notice that about you? Your scent, I mean. You always, and I mean always, smell of wine. Not on your breath though, just on your body. It seemed to just emanate out of you. Where does that come from?

I remember one time when I was supposed to give you some papers and I got a little too excited. Okay, so I got a lot exited. I couldn't sleep a wink that night and I got up at the crack of dawn.

I did my morning routines lighting speed, but I took my time in brushing my hair, and I went straight to your door.

My memory doesn't fail me often, but that particular experience is an exception. I guess all that blood to my head had something to do with it. The only thing that I can remember clearly is me thinking to myself 'oh my God'. And 'I must look like a tomato right now' because I can safely say that I have never in my entire life blushed that hard when I saw you open the door looking all sleepy-eyed and wearing nothing but a nearly buttoned pants. I sweated, stuttered and blushed profusely out of embarrassment, giddiness and just plain shock.

I never knew until then that you had such a beautiful body. I mean, you didn't have fine chiseled abs like the action stars but you were in a very good shape for someone who . . .

And the thing that stayed in my mind for the longest, which wasn't very long mind you, was your smell. You smelled like . . .apple wine, sweet and bitter at the same time. And the fact that you just woke up really makes me wonder where the smell comes from.

And let's not forget the classes . . .every single day sitting in class was torture and joy both at the same time.

Joy because I have the opportunity to be so close to you and watch you do what you love to do. Torture because of the fact that it's all I can do: watch but never touch. I have wished for at least a million times for some miracle that time would just stop so I could touch you, even for a short moment.

I would stare at your lips for an entire hour, just wondering what it would possibly feel like to kiss them. I would bet everything that I have, which isn't much, that they would feel soft. And then my mind would fall into the gutters and then imagine about . . .

Well, enough of that, right?

But alas, everything is at loss

All my effort is in vain

I guess I was just born this way

To suffer though endless pain

I often wonder, why exactly I was this unlucky when it comes to love.

First, there was Victor Krum, you must have heard of him, the seeker for Bulgaria. That relationship, if you can even call it one, went kaput in only two months. That was okay, really, because I truly hadn't had feelings for him. But the break-up still hurt. He was, after all, my very first serious boyfriend. Too bad his career had to come first.

And then there was Ron, who was one of my best friends. He dumped me when Mademoiselle Fleur, the half-veela, came to teach Astronomy here. The worst part of it was that he dumped me just when I was starting to harbor feelings for him. I guess he only saw me as a friend.

That's me all right; always the best friend but never the girl friend.

And now . . .it's you. I just hoped that you would be different . . . from them, I mean.

What I want I can not have

Who I love doesn't love me back

So I guess I'd better be going

To gather my things and pack

Life had always been unfair to me, you know. But I guess compared to the pain that you have gone through, I have no right to talk. It's just that . . .I'm always unlucky when it comes to the field of love.

In other fields, though, it is a brand new story.

I have many options on what to do after I graduate. Professor Dumbledore has given me a very long list of universities on where I could continue my studies. He also offered me a teaching spot in here, at Hogwarts, because he heard that dear old Professor Flitwick is going to retire. And Ron is encouraging me to take up the job of being an Auror. He says that it is only fitting with all of the experiences we had with the Dark Side.

One thing for sure is, though, I can't wait until I graduate and leave this place. Or more specifically, leave you.

Because you obviously made it clear

You don't love me the same way

I'm your student, you're my teacher

There's nothing more to say

Graduation is only a few hours away, and I can't help but to wish and wish for the hands of the clock to run faster. Why? Because of regret and shame, that's why. I can't believe I was stupid enough to actually think that you would see me romantically.

I heard once more the breaking of my heart, this time louder than ever, when you said those fateful words . . .

"But Hermione, you know that I can't . . .not only is it morally and ethically wrong, but I'm your teacher, and you're a student . . .what would the others say?"

I hung my head in remorse when you said those things. But what had really hurt me the most was the fact that all of the things you said were true. And then . . .

"I'm sorry"

"I know," the only thing that I could say. "Professor Lupin."

Fin

AUTHOR'S NOTES

So . . .well, that sucked. The words don't associate with one another, the characters were out of character and it had no plot whatsoever. But forgive me, because I only wrote this to stop myself from sleeping on the train so that I wouldn't miss my stop. Weird, right?

But I was only practicing that whole 'mysterious person' kind of writing. Did it work? Come on; give me a review or two so that I could know just who you thought Hermione was in love with. Please?

The poem is mine. If you're interested to read some more of my poems, which I highly doubt, you can see MyPoEmS in my account.

What else? Oh yeah, Harry Potter so doesn't belong to me. I'm not J.K. Rowling so don't go suing me, okay?

Please review once again.