Disclaimer: I don't own yadda, yadda, yadda, you get the picture. I DON'T OWN HARRY POTTER!
Rating: PG
Summary: Well let's see all these summaries sound the same, it doesn't matter how different the story is they end up sounding the same. This is the first story in a series. It is two chapters long, and the next story will be up in one day hopefully. Make sure to Review when you're done, now READ, READ, READ!
A/N: Let's see well, this is the beginning of a series. There will be two chapters in each mini story. In total there will end up being three. This first one is Harry/Hermione based. Make sure to REVIEW! Us authors love that oh so much!
Londonpunker14
Silent Suffering Chapter 2Hermione's P.O.V.
I like him. Hell, I love him, but he'll never know. He can't know. If he ever found out our friendship would be over. He's hate me, never speak tom me again, and probably marry Ginny eventually. Everyone thinks they're meant to be anyway.
Yes, he's marry Ginny and I'll end up marrying Ron. I would love him, but I'd never truly be able to give my heart, wholly, to him. It will, and always has belonged to Harry.
Harry. I could go on about him all day long. I notice all the little things about him. The way he smirks after telling a joke or making a some sarcastic comment, or how his eyes and whole face light up when he laughs. His laugh, his deep, loud laugh. I could listen to it all day, for there has not been nearly enough in his life. There's more now that Voldemort is gone, but there wasn't enough before. Not nearly enough. He always smells like the wood of a broomstick handle, fresh pine scent from walking the grounds all the time, and his fresh wild smelling soap, just like his personality.
I wonder if he know that I stare at him. Probably does, he isn't the Boy-Who-Conquered for lack of paying attention. If he does notice, he probably doesn't pay attention. After all, I'm just plain old bookworm, Hermione Jane Granger.
His nightmares have finally gone. At last, I know he's thankful for it. No more Voldemort to project horrific scenes into his mind, no more waking up in a cold sweat, no more visiting me and spending the night in my dorm because he doesn't want to be alone. I miss it sometimes, But there's no use in dwelling on what was. We need to ponder what the future has in store for us instead. If only he knew how much I loved him. Back to silent suffering he will never know. There he is now, on our usual couch by the fire, our nightly routine. Brave face on and go.