Love or Infatuation?
By
Cherished Dreams

Disclaimer: I don't own Harry Potter.


Chapter One

Infatuated.

Yeah that was it.

I was infatuated with the thought of being in love. That's why I've been reading so many muggle romance books and listening to depressing romance songs. I sighed. Oh dear Merlin this was stupid and… downright depressing. After Vikor Krum, I didn't want to commit myself to something that I wasn't certain with.

I smiled sadly and remembered the start of my infatuation.

I remember during fifth year when Ron had asked me out and I refused him flat out. I think I remember the lecture I gave him, telling him that we should be thinking about our academic careers trying to diffuse the tension and tense atmosphere. He smiled at me and laughed and we both knew that we were still friends. But I had always seen through Ron, and I knew that I had shattered him. I remember that the same night I had talked to him.

I remember it so clearly.

I had crept downstairs into the Gryffindor Common Room. The fire was still ablaze and I found Ron looking into them as if he were asking them questions and waiting for their answers. I had felt bad about saying no to him. He was my best friend and I had disappointed him.

I felt so bad.

I placed my hand on his shoulder, but he didn't turn his head. I knew he knew it was me. I seated down next to him on the large sofa in front of the sofa. It was a few moments after I had done this that he spoke. "'mione I know that you don't feel the same way but I want you to know that… I-I t-think I love you." He had looked so sincere and I felt so guilty.

I started to cry and he pulled me close and I sobbed erratically into his chest. "Hermione, please… Don't cry." My tears wouldn't stop and I knew no spell or charm to stop them. I looked at him through teary eyes. He wasn't the annoying or joking Ron I knew him as. He was sincere and he looked at me with loving eyes. I don't know what happened to me, because when I looked into his eyes I knew I was lost.

How could someone, anyone, not love him back? And a voice in my head said, 'They'd be mental not to.' A smile broke out on my face as I remembered what he had said

He looked at me and smiled.

We spent hours talking, and when I knew he was getting tired I told him to lay his head on my lap. I looked down at him and found myself drowning in his eyes. Drowning, because I knew he loved me. Drowning. Before I knew what I was doing, I leaned down and kissed him. I felt his shock. But I didn't pull away. Soon I felt him respond, and our kiss turned passionate. He ran his fingers through my hair. I pulled back and he sat up. He pulled me close again and embraced me. "I'm sorry. I'm sorry Ron."

I remember we spent many nights like that. Talking and falling asleep in each other's arms. But I never kissed him again. I think I knew I loved him there and then. But I just never said it out loud. He said it all the time before he closing his eyes and drifting off. And I knew that every time he had said it, he waited for the time that I would say it too, but I always stayed silent. Silent, because deep inside I was battling with myself.

Was I in love or not?

I was so damn confused.

I started questioning myself. It felt nice to know I was loved. But I felt horrible. I didn't even really know why I did. I just… Did. Then finally, just when I was certain about what I was feeling, something happened. I didn't want to feel bad about not loving him, and I started to teach myself to like him. Love him. One night, we were downstairs talking as usual. And he started talking really fast. He was never like that before. But then I knew, once he started talking about Parvati, he was no longer in love with me. He didn't even say 'I love you' before he drifted off anymore. I wanted to say it. I wanted to say it every time he didn't. But I didn't.

A few days after we stopped talking so much at night. A few days later he asked Parvati out, and knowing what he was really worth, loving him for real, waiting for that very moment, she said yes and greeted it with open arms. She was lucky. And I was heartbroken. But at least we were still friends. And I found that we didn't treat each other differently.

I smiled at them painfully, happy that they were together.

Little did they know, my heart had fell to the floor with a plop.


A/N: weird? different? I dunno what I was thinking about when I wrote this.