Infatuation

I stare at her and I'm surprised she never notices. I gawk at her in her perfect elegance. She is a flawless picture of beauty, everything that is lovely, and she doesn't even know it, which makes her all the more beautiful. Ever since the first time I saw her, I was completely captivated. She is everything, everything I have ever wanted.

She's smart. She's clever. She's thoughtful. She's sweet. And she's absolutely radiant. She walks into the room and lights it up. Her laugh is infectious. She's always fighting for what she thinks is right, and she's the most dedicated person I've ever met.

I'm staring at her now. Her wild hair is pulled back in a tight braid that falls gracefully down her back. She always pulls it back like that when she wants to concentrate. Her brown eyes are focused. I think she's doing Arithmacy homework. Of course, it's not due until two weeks from tomorrow. But that's how my Hermione is; she's always on top of anything and everything. She's perfect. The light from the fire in the hearth dances on her face, and I can't even hear the other students mulling about the room. All I can see is her. All I've ever been able to see is her.

I remember at the ball two years ago, her hair pulled back tightly in an elegant bun so her slender neck was exposed, the light dancing on her face, much like it is now, her cheeks flushed and her smile glowing. She took my breath away completely.

I remember back to just last year, when she fought beside me in the Ministry of Magic. Her eyes were bright and slightly frightened, though she fought hard not to show it. She's always been so strong for me. She's all the strength I've ever needed. To see her is to gain confidence. Because she believes in me, I can believe in me.

My heart is hammering hard against my chest as I imagine what it would feel like to hold her, to kiss her, and the only word that comes to mind is bliss. The thought of her skin under my fingertips makes me shiver and suddenly, it becomes hard to breathe. I can't think straight. That's why it takes me a moment to realize that she's speaking to me. Her voice is silk; smooth and flowing and infinitely soft.

"Harry? Harry?"

I answer her a bit dazed. "What?"

"Could you look at this? I'm really not sure I've even got the right idea about this Arithmacy work."

That's another thing I love about her. She's got plenty of self-esteem, and yet, she seems so lost and unsure of herself sometimes. I love when I get to step in and help.

"Herms, you know that's not my best subject. I don't even have a best subject!"

"Come on Harry! I just want a second opinion."

"Alright, alright." I get up from where I'm sitting and settle myself down beside her. Her smell is absolutely intoxicating. I love and want her so much it aches inside my chest, but I know that I can't have her no matter what I do. Part of me died when I realized this. That same part dies every time I look at her while another part dances and rejoices that I still have eyes to see her.

"Alright, Harry?" I must have been zoning out. Her inquiry startles me out of my reverie.

"Yeah, sure."

I wish things were different. I wish I could call her mine. But wishing really never did anything for anyone. She is one of my best friends. She can offer me no more and no less. I know her better than anyone and love her like no one besides me ever could. She should be mine. We would compliment each other so nicely. I know it isn't fair. But who ever said it was?