Disclaimer: Anything you recognize as part of the Harry Potter world does NOT belong to me. Only the idea for this short ficlet is mine.
It's late night and I'm still awake. I turn and turn in bed, but it seems my body doesn't want to rest. I feel bolts running wild inside me and my brain works furiously. My attempts to close my eyes and just fall asleep turn out to be a waste of time in my already wasted night.
Frustrated, I get up and drag myself downstairs to the common room. The fire is still up and the room has a warm atmosphere. I flop to one couch and let my thoughts drift wherever they please. I owe it to them. They were held prisoners for so much time, some freedom will do them good.
You may be wondering why I can't sleep. Probably you'd be thinking something along the lines of Voldemort or Sirius, but you couldn't be more mistaken. It's all about a girl.
Harry Potter, the saviour of both wizard and muggle world, can't sleep because of a girl.
I was used to sleepless nights due to constant nightmares, but I hoped they would pass once I defeated Voldemort. Sure enough, they did. But the sleeping part still didn't fill in. Now I didn't have nightmares, but I couldn't sleep. Images of my life ran through my head like a chaotic movie, and all I could see clearly was her.
Suddenly, I hear some muffled noises.
I turn slowly and see her. Her upper body sprawled all over a table, her lower body resting on a chair. It seems she is having a dream of some sort, for she mutters something I can't decipher.
Now I'm definetly not going to be able to sleep. Might as well take my time looking at her. I do it every day, whenever I can. Every time she's not looking I gaze at her, it's like I can't take my eyes off such a heavenly vision. And I feel like I'm never going to be tired of just admiring her, taking in all of her essence. Her features, her curves, her hands, her neck, everything.
I wonder how I got to this point of actually worshipping her.
And now that I actuallly think of it, I don't care, as long as I can keep looking at her. Whenever I look at her, even if for a brief second, I get a fuzzy feeling, like a huge fire being lit inside of me. I feel warm and safe, something I don't feel with anyone else.
Yes, you guessed it. I'm in love with her.
How I fell in love with her I don't know. I try to find a reason, I look for it in every detail of her, but my conscience comes with only conclusion.
My dear Hermione, if only I had the courage to tell you how much I love you!
But how can I? We've been friends for so long, and friendship is something not to be risked lightly because of just a crush.
But this is not a mere crush.
This is love.
Not the sweet one fairy tale books talk about, it's an undying, cruel, bittersweet love. My heart aches every day with the knowledge that you're not mine. My soul evaporates with the bare thought that maybe you don't love me back. I feel like crawling under my own skin for not being able to tell you how I feel about you.
How will I ever know what you feel without risking the special bond between us?
I guess that's a classic question. The eternal riddle of the lovers.
Why do I look for the answers to my life in you?
Maybe it's your shining eyes. Maybe it's your gentle touch. Your soft skin, perhaps, or your adorable smile. Maybe it's your delicate hands. Maybe it's your womanly body that drives me crazy, or your rosy lips which I so desperately find myself longing to kiss passionately.
Maybe it's your bossy, know-it-all attitude. Maybe it's the fact you've always been by my side all this time, through thick and thin. Maybe it's your undying loyalty or your faith and confidence in me. Maybe it's the fact that you care.
No, Hermione, that is not it. I don't love you for your beautiful smile, or your intelligence.
I love you for you.
I love you because you're simply you. I love you, Hermione, because you're Hermione. I love you for being yourself.
It's not the looks, or the brains. It's all of that, and Merlin knows what more. It's a completeness I have not felt my entire life, and I wouldn't be doing justice to what I feel if I cut it down to just your physical appearance or your fondness of books. It is so much more than that, something that reaches the sky and flows beyond all I can imagine.
I love you, Hermione Granger, with all my heart and soul.
I hope someday I can tell you this, without the fear of rejection haunting my dreams.
And I can only pray that someday you'll love me back.
A short silence ensues my line of thought, that slowly dissipates into thin air.
"Harry?"
My world suddenly goes blank.
Did I just hear someone call my name?
Certainly I am imagining things. This is not a good time for my brain to play evil tricks on me.
I shake my head slightly to dismiss the imaginary sounds, but when I focus my look again I can only gasp. I find myself staring into two brown eyes, two turmoils of raw emotion. Time goes by in a pace I cannot measure. Slow? Fast? How many seconds passed since I locked my gaze to hers? How many minutes, how many years? I don't know. My world is suddenly her eyes.
Suddenly it all dawns on me – I revealed all of my feelings out aloud, without even noticing it. I chuckle incredulously at the fact that I didn't even realize Hermoine had been awoken by my transe.
She gets up from her chair, not bothering to pick up the books she unconsiously drags to the floor, and takes a tentative step towards me. I can see she's biting her lower lip. "Harry?" she calls, timidly.
I have to do something! Wake up! Wake up! "Hermione…" I still can't believe it. Is this a dream?
"Harry…" She looks like she's not believing this as well, but takes another step in my direction.
Instinctively I take a step towards her too.
Before I know it my lips are locked with hers in a passionate exchange of emotion.
After what seemed only a nano-second I feel my lungs running out of fresh oxygen and, reluctantly, break the kiss.
Holding her by the waist, I almost fail to feel her hands gently rubbing the back of my neck. I look into her eyes and once again lose myself in them.
"Harry…" she says with a hoarse voice. She has a dreamy gaze plastered on her face, there is a small smile playing on her lips. "That was the most beautiful thing I have ever heard. I had no idea you felt that way for me, but now I know dreams come true. I have silently dreamed of this moment forever…"
She leans in for another kiss, this time slowly. We brush our lips slighlty at the beginning, just reeling in the feeling of being so close. Slowly but gradually our contact becomes stronger and our tentative kisses become longer and more confident. I gently brush my tongue across her lower lip and she opens her mouth, giving me full access. At first my tongue meets only air but then I find what I'm looking for. I play with her tongue and she plays back.
And it feels like heaven.
This is truly my first kiss.
"I love you too, Harry…" she says after our mouths brake apart.
Her dreamy look and her warm smile ensures me she is telling the truth. If I ever had a doubt about Hermione's feelings, I now know for certain that I am indeed loved back.
As we share another kiss, I feel myself being led, and before I know it I'm laying on the couch with Hermione on top of me. Just as we brake this kiss she leans against me and rests her head on my chest, her right hand lazily drawing imaginary circles in the place of my heart.
Still bewildered beyond recognition, I find myself relaxing as I watch her falling asleep, simply breathing in and out, reeling in the feeling of her body against mine.
And slowly I find myself finally drifting off…
…into a peaceful…
…and quiet…
…slum…
…ber……………………………………………………………
