PAPER CRANES AND INK STAINS
There she stood under the oak tree beside the lake, staring at the boy who had joined her moments before. Her hair stood on end, a shiver raced down her spine and a lump found its way to her throat. It was him...
~ Three weeks earlier ~
'What a wonderful evening,' Hermione thought on her way back to the Gryffindor common room after the Yule Ball. Feeling exhausted from dancing, she'd decided to call it a night –Viktor insisted he walked her back, but his Durmstrang friends had began to pull him back towards the dance floor. Hermione insisted that it was fine, she'd had an amazing night and thanked him for asking her to accompany him. "Now, go show them how it's done." She'd laughed, watching him dance back towards the dance floor with a grin on his face, his eyes never leaving hers until he disappeared into the crowd.
She began to daydream, thinking about all of the events of the night. She couldn't help but feel some sort of accomplishment from it. Not that she thought she was ugly, but she was starting to understand what all the other girls in the common room whispered about, "it goes to show that if you make an effort, you feel amazing because all of the boys finally notice you!" Parvati Patil had claimed while doing Lavender's make-up. Well, that they did! But so did the girls; especially Pansy Parkinson, who was obviously Draco Malfoy's date. She had noticed Draco Malfoy couldn't help but stare at Hermione instead of her. Of course, Hermione wasn't bothered about what Malfoy thought, but seeing Pansy's face had given her a little bit of an ego boost.
She'd turned a corner, not entirely watching where was she was going, when she saw something small and white hovering in the middle of the corridor. She looked around before approaching it cautiously; you never knew at Hogwarts whether something was jinxed or a prank from Peeves or the Weasley twins. Surprised, when she grabbed the paper crane and nothing happened, she curiously opened it to find a very neatly written note saying:
Hermione,
Dare I say, you were the most beautiful girl at the ball.
She huffed a laugh, thinking it was a joke, and looked around to see she was alone. Who had left it, and why here? She hadn't even passed anyone on her way, at least, that she could remember… was she daydreaming that much? Before anyone could find her stood dawdling in the middle of the corridor by herself, she continued on her way, but the note kept in her mind. What a rotten joke to end an amazing night! Never mind, she was not going to let this ruin her Christmas. She was unsure why, but she kept the note anyway, placing it in her bedside drawer before getting ready for bed.
The next morning, the girls in the dormitory had all awoken early and allowed Ginny to join them in going over the best parts of the night and swooning over the Durmstrang boys, especially Viktor Krum. They sure did had a lot of questions for Hermione. Hermione quickly pointed out that they were going to miss breakfast to avoid having to answer, but the gossiping continued all the way to the Great Hall and all the way through breakfast. Harry and Ron had just been leaving the Great Hall when she bumped into them, "we did wait for you," said Harry. "but we were starving!" said Ron. "It's fine, I'll catch up with you later!" Exclaimed Hermione. They parted ways.
She'd forgotten all about the note that currently laid in her bedside table drawer, until another paper crane flew straight into her face and almost fell into her porridge. She excused herself to the girls toilets and only opened the note once she had stepped into a cubicle and locked the door.
Hermione,
I can't stop thinking about your periwinkle ruffles.
OK, this was definitely a joke, and what did that even mean? She flew the door open, it banging a little too hard against the cubicle wall which had made two first year girls jump with fright upon entering the girls toilets. Hermione mumbled her apologies as she took her leave, the note still crumpled up in her hand. The first note she could ignore, but this one? No, someone was messing with her and she was going to find out who. It wasn't going to be easy though; there was no name signed and the writing didn't look familiar, then again, it looked very generic as though it was written by an enchanted quill and not the person themselves. It was a good job Hermione had always enjoyed a good puzzle.
She tried to forget about the notes, she really did. But how could she forget about something when she kept receiving them? Over the next few days, more and more were sent her way. Luckily they only showed when she was mainly on her own, but that didn't stop her friends from noticing that something was off with her. She couldn't focus in her classes, on studying or even on eating! The words of the notes stayed in her mind, all day long. Her only break was when she slept, but she was sure it wouldn't be too long until they were in her dreams too!
Hermione,
I know these may seem strange, but I honestly believe you were,
and still are the most beautiful girl from the ball.
Hermione,
I think my heart was just stolen
May I have yours instead?
Hermione,
I don't know why, but I can't stop thinking about you.
Hermione,
It's a good thing I have my library card,
Because I am totally checking you out.
Hermione,
I know that one made you smile, right?
These were just a few of several. Even though they were cheesy, and made her constantly think that it was a joke, she'd received another randomly in-between the sloppy ones, which made her even more determined to find out who it was, as it was different from the others, and it only read:
Hermione,
I'm sorry.
Sorry? But what would anyone have to be sorry about to her? Unless they thought that they were beginning to bother her. Oh no – what if this was the last note? What if she didn't receive any more, and therefore ended something before it even began? How was she meant to find them now? This was when she'd realised she actually quite enjoyed receiving the notes, and having a secret admirer. She was never going to tell anyone that, though.
Hermione let out a sigh of relief, when later that evening, she'd received another paper crane.
Suddenly, a few days and several notes later, with a spoon of porridge half way to her mouth, she had a thought.
...surely it couldn't be Draco Malfoy - he couldn't be the only person in the school who knew how to make a paper crane – but he did look at her different at the Yule Ball… No! Don't be ridiculous! How silly to even consider that Malfoy, who showed nothing but hatred towards Hermione since they both started at Hogwarts four years ago, would be the one to send her a secret admirer note. The thought was shook from Hermione's head as someone had grabbed her arm, giving her a little shake. "What?" She said dozily, coming back to reality as she turned to find Harry who was looking at her strangely. "Are you not listening to me? Are you ok?" He asked. Ginny, who had just overhead, sat down opposite them as she grabbed a slice of toast, "Bet she's too busy daydreaming about Viktor, right?" Ginny grinned at Hermione who took a sip of her pumpkin juice to try and hide her blush. "But who could blame you after the way he was looking at you at the Ball!" At this, Hermione blushed harder and stood abruptly, almost knocking Harry's arm which had just picked up his own pumpkin juice. Hermione mumbled a quick apology, and something about the library, before hurrying out of the Great Hall. Ginny and Harry looked at each other, chuckling, before the topic quickly moved onto Quidditch.
When she'd reached the library, she'd pulled out her journal and looked down at the list that she'd began to write;
X Viktor Krum X
Cedric Diggory
Ron Weasley
Zacharias Smith
Anthony Goldstein
? ? ?
She let out an exasperated sign. She was 100% sure it wasn't Viktor as she'd thanked him stupidly for the note, and he'd looked just as confused as she did after he stated he had no idea what she was talking about. She was 80% sure that it wasn't Ron, after all, he had only just seemed to realise she was an actual girl. There's no way he'd have been clever enough to write the notes and keep himself so well hidden. And yet, she kept his name there, just in case. It's not that she didn't like him in that way; after all, they had grown a lot closer over the years, but Hermione didn't want to ruin the friendship they had. What if it didn't work out?
She was just about to read through her other notes, to see if she could piece anything together, when someone had started to sit down in the seat opposite. She'd quickly shut her journal and shoved it back into her bag hastily. "I hope I'm not interrupting anything. We did say 12:30, didn't we?" Cedric asked rhetorically as he began to grab his books out of his bag, along with his parchment and quills. Hermione smiled, doing the same. "No- I mean, yes- yes, we did say 12:30." She was unsure why she was so flustered. "Thank you for asking me to tutor you, I'm happy you asked." Cedric let out a huffed laugh, "I think I should be the one thanking you."
Hermione had been about to cross him off her list of potential people when he'd asked her to help him tutor him earlier that morning. She agreed because she obviously enjoyed studying and was excited to help someone who would appreciate it, other than Harry and Ron. But also, she hoped he would give her a clue while studying as to whether it was him or not who was sending the notes. She'd realised that he had shown up moments after she had just read a note, on more than one occasion, but not all. She was disappointed when a few hours later Cho Chang had shown up at their table to retrieve him, stating they had somewhere to be. With a sigh, she'd crossed his name off the list and left the library even more befuddled than she was before.
A few notes later, Hermione was shocked when a Hogwarts owl pecked on her dormitory window, interrupting her evening read. She passed it a treat and took the note, which was still folded into a paper crane, the owl unmoving from the windowsill.
Hermione,
It's only fair that you're able to respond if you want to.
Just know, the owl won't leave until you do.
He knows where to go.
Hermione was curious, so she grabbed some parchment and a quill and dotted it into her ink pot. She paused for a moment, in thought, before beginning to scribble:
Who are you?
H.
Not her best work, but straight to the point. She attached the note to the owl, who flew off before she could check it wouldn't come loose, and then added her note to the pile of her other notes in her drawer. She wasn't expecting him to tell her, and she was definitely not expecting a reply so soon. She had only just started getting back into her book when thirty minutes later, the owl was back. She passed it another treat before slipping off the note, rushing to open it.
Hermione,
That's really your first question?
You know I can't answer that.
Just as she had expected. Typical. She grabbed another sheet of parchment and wrote:
Why not? Don't be embarrassed.
At least give me a clue.
H.
Happy with her response, she again attached it to the owls leg, making sure it was on tight enough this time, before watching it fly away. This time, expecting a quicker reply, she paced the room until she heard the owl hoot twenty minutes later. She rushed over to the window, grabbing the note and rushing to open it again – the owl pecked at her finger, she'd forgotten to give it a treat. She gave it two, and turned to read the note.
Hermione,
I'm tall and handsome, what more could you want?
Oh of course, I have brains too, I suppose that's what
you'd like! Another clue? I'm in your class tomorrow.
Finally, a clue! Though, that didn't limit it down to many people. She had classes with all other houses except Ravenclaw tomorrow. I guess that crossed Anthony Goldstein from her list. She made a mental note to change her list in the morning.
She had just picked up her quill to write a response when Parvati Patil walked into the dormitory room with Lavender Brown. They said small hellos before they were back into whatever conversation they were having. The note would have to wait. She shooed the owl out of the window whispering "No more tonight" and closed it, it seemed to understand her as it flew off into the night sky. She jumped back into bed, the note joining the others, and picked up her book. She couldn't concentrate though, and after reading the same sentence ten times, she'd given up and tried to sleep, taking longer than usual due to her thoughts working through the clues of the note.
A few days later, once several more notes had been passed between the two of them, she had come across a spell in one of her books whilst studying in the library. It was a spell where the writing of the note would copy itself onto the hand of the reader in red ink – normally used to catch people red handed reading things they shouldn't be, but it had the same effect. It couldn't be removed by washing it away, but it did fade away by itself within a few days, which meant she had a very small window to catch it. The next note she sent, Hermione had charmed the paper after writing and carefully folded it whilst wearing her gloves. It read:
You're right, blue is my favourite colour.
Hence it being the colour of my dress!
I'm assuming this is another question to add to my list
of many that I can ask you once you reveal yourself?
H.
The only response she'd gotten back from that was;
Hermione,
You have a list? That's sweet.
Although, this didn't matter. She'd written a long note so it couldn't be missed on the hands when she kept a look out! And off she went.
She tried to look at the boys hands of whom she passed in the corridors, classrooms, common room, and every other part of Hogwarts for that matter, in hopes she would see the ink from her spell she had cast on her last note. She knew it was a risk; using a spell where the ink would stick to the hands of the opener of the note, as he could well easily stop sending notes and then she would never find out who they were from! Nonetheless, she took the risk and looked as though she was constantly looking for a lost item. Neville had even offered for her to use his remembrall, but she reminded him that it only told you that you was forgetting something, not what you was forgetting. Of course she couldn't look at most people's hands; it was winter after all, and most of the boys were always wearing gloves whenever she could get close enough for a proper look. How did she not think of that? Was she really going crazy over this? Well, that didn't work…
Hermione,
Clever spell!
I should have expected nothing less from the Golden Girl.
Hermione couldn't take it any more, and decided it was time to see the only person she trusted to help her in this predicament; Ginny Weasley.
My favourite place to study is under the oak tree beside the lake.
Dumbledore had allowed me to bewitch it so I wouldn't get wet or cold whilst studying in the winter months.
Where's yours?
H.
"There, that sounds pretty normal… right?" She'd passed the note to Ginny, chewing her lip nervously. "He may not have asked, but it's perfectly normal to start a new topic when the old one required no answer… I think…?" Hermione groaned, but Ginny was already tying it to the owls leg before she could change her mind. "It's fine, 'Mione! There, off it goes!" And before Hermione could worry further, Ginny had grabbed her notes and gotten herself comfortable on her bed, starting to theorise who it could be.
Hermione was beginning to think he had given up on her; it had been two days since she'd mentioned the oak tree, and she had had no response nor had she bumped into anyone under the oak tree either. Three days after, she had been under the oak tree for only two hours when she'd heard a crunch of snow a few feet away. Her head shot up.
After all of her research had driven her mad, she'd given in and had told Ginny about the secret admirer notes. Ginny's answer was simple: "Why don't you just ask him to meet you?" Of course Hermione had already thought about that and explained her worries of her being stood up. Ginny had then proceeded to continue throwing ideas her way, "Instead then, mention naturally that you enjoy studying under that oak tree beside the lake, or somewhere where, if he turns up, it won't look like he's just passing by, or there coincidentally? Set a trap."
So, she'd done just that. And there she stood, under the oak tree beside the lake, staring at the boy who had joined her moments before. Her hair stood on end, a shiver raced down her spine and a lump found its way to her throat. It was him...
He walked towards Hermione and stopped directly in front of her, barely inches between them. She stood unsure, looking at him sceptically. Was it really him? "I guess you really are the Brightest Witch of Our Age," he'd said with a smirk as he moved his hand to cup her chin and closed the gap, his lips brushing hers. He tasted of pumpkin pasties, and before she knew it, her lips were moving on their own accord, softly kissing him back. Oh yes – definitely him. She pulled away to smirk back up at him, "And I guess you're not such a ferret after all." Then, before he could retaliate, she'd wrapped her arms around his neck and pulled him in for another kiss.
THE END.
