Sorry for the long wait. Maybe some of you have made a stop at my profile page, I did start a new fic, but that doesn't mean I've abandoned this one!
Thank you all for the reviews, follows and favorites! I also got a few general requests that I will fulfil all in due time! In the mean time, keep them coming, they always inspire me to write more and more!
As the final bell rang through the school, Hermione let out a heavy sigh as she began to pack up all her books into her bag. She was tired, stressed and not in a good mood at all. Her eye nearly twitched as she turned her head to the cluster of people just standing by the door, making no move to go anywhere, just taking up space.
With a huff, and no damns, Hermione tugged her back up onto her shoulder as she made her way through the thick crowds by the door of the classroom. As she pushed her way through them all, she was met with 'Hey!'s and a mixture of growls and huffs at her 'rude behavior'. Again, she was not in a good mood, and it wasn't as if she was close to any of them anyway, her rude behavior would simply be brushed off.
As she made it to her locker, on the top floor, she immediately saw something different from usual. Inside the normally clean and organized shelves, there was one envelope lying innocently out of place along with the rest of her papers.
Slowly, she reached out for the envelope, and hesitantly turned it over side to side, trying to find a name on it.
Ah. There, on the front of it, in curves and thin writing, was her name.
Blinking, she took a few minutes to make sure. It simply wasn't right, there was no possible way either. Normally, all the notes she ever found or were given were from girls who asked her to pass it along to Harry, her best friend. However, looking down at the small note in her hands, there was no mistaking that it was for her. Just for her. A love letter, for her. Well, if the doodled hearts on the back were saying anything.
With a pink face and buzzing mind, she tucked the note into her pocket before dumping the rest of her unneeded books into her locker. She made a run for it, down the halls, thankfully not running into any teachers or any other student for that matter. Once she made it to an empty stairwell, she let out a breath before digging in her pockets again to take the note out.
She read the words with shallow breaths and a pink face. The writing was unfamiliar to her, they were thin and had delicate curves carefully made. The note itself complimented her beautiful complexed personality, witty intelligence, and the way she floored their literature teacher in a debate during first period.
With a gasp, Hermione wheeled back. First period? That was her literature class that was mixed up with the senior class. There were only a few of those in her age group in that class, since the majority were all seniors. From the way the note was written, she automatically dismissed the possibility that it was one from her age, she knew them well enough to know that the lot of them were unable to write out anything sweet like this.
But the mystery was still there. Who the hell wrote this? Just who had taken an interest in bookworm Hermione Granger?
After a few more minutes, Hermione huffed and stuffed the note back into her pocket. It wasn't signed, and deep down inside, she had the sickest feeling that someone was just playing with her, she was usually picked on, this was probably one of their more cruel jokes on her.
A tap on her shoulder had her snapping her head to the side, glaring at the filthy finger that had snapped her out of her concentration. She happened to enjoy first period, just who the hell was bothering her?
However, all her anger seemed to fade away as the girl beside her shot her a fearful apologetic look while passing a small folded piece of paper. Thoroughly confused, Hermione took the tiny folded piece of scrap into her hands, did they honestly expect Hermione goody-two-shoes to pass notes in class?!
However, as she was about to pocket it, a familiar thin curvy writing caught her eye, and yes, once again it was addressed to her. Hermione bit her lip. There was definitely the temptation to just ignore everything and read through it in class, even if the teacher were to catch her doing so, however, her morales won out in the end and the girl tucked it in between the pages of her textbook so she would come back and read it afterwards.
As soon the bell rang, Hermione bolted out the class as soon as possible, the piece of paper still clutched in her hands, as she rounded the corner, she unfolded it and began reading. This time, it seemed that her secret admirer had tried to reassure Hermione that she was playing a trick, that it was indeed for her, and no one else. There was also an apology for the secret admirer's successful attempt to break into her locker, assuring her that they wouldn't do that again.
However creepy it was, Hermione couldn't help but to feel the smallest of smiles start to form on her face. It was sweet, and very kind. Whoever this person was, they were definitely well on their way of staying in her good books.
The week continued, and Hermione was still unable to catch her secret admirer. They had said very little about themselves, continuing to compliment Hermione's day to day appearances in and out of class. Still, Hermione could not connect the dots, or figure out who had such beautiful handwriting.
On a more exciting (or dreading) note, Christmas was approaching soon. At their school, that also meant the Yule Ball, a simple dance for the students but nearly everyone couldn't shut up about it. As Hermione sat in her class, even she found herself unable to concentrate on the actual class and instead took to daydreaming. Would her secret admirer continue to surprise her? Was it their actual intention to lead her right up to the Yule Ball?
Or was it still some sick joke?
That afternoon though, while she was slaving away on her homework in the library, Viktor Krum made his way over to her, and in his accented voice had asked her out to the Ball. Automatically, without thinking twice, her mind still high and hazy from working and daydreaming about her secret admirer, she had said yes.
It was no loss on her end. Viktor Krum was a kind person, he was great at sports, he was … good enough academically, and he wasn't just a stupid jock. Surely, she could've done worse.
Her thoughts continued to turn and roll, and before she could return to reality, she found herself walking right into Fleur Delacour, arguably the most beautiful girl in their school. Sputtering and turning red, Hermione apologized and then wondered what the hell she was doing on third floor when the girl usually prowled around on the main floor with her group.
"Please do watch where you are walking next time," Fleur simply said as she continued her way down the hall, never once turning back to Hermione.
Huffing, Hermione realized she had no retort for that, and angrily turned to her locker, conveniently just to her right from where she had walked into the older girl. Ripping it open, her angry expression faded as she saw the note, it wasn't a folded piece of paper, it didn't come in an envelope, but instead it came in the form of a flower.
Fascinated, Hermione picked it up, however as her eyes drifted from line to line of the note, dread began to fill her being. From all the pretty words and sugar coated sweetness she only read one thing from all of it.
Goodbye.
In that moment she knew, it wasn't Viktor Krum. No, it wouldn't have made any sense. Instead, she snapped her head back down the hall. Sadly, no one was there. Not a sound was around her as she hung her head down in defeat.
Viktor Krum. Viktor frikin Krum. The sac of …
Fleur couldn't even continue as she angrily hissed and rounded the corner of the hall. Those around her knew better than to bother her in her state right now. She was mad, and definitely unreasonable at the moment. All her plans, carefully laid out, and delicately tended to … all gone. Just because one stupid muscle head thought he was all that and could have a chance with …
Again, she lost her train of thought as she looked at the box at her feet. In her fit of anger, she kicked it down the rest of the hall without a second, ignoring the roar of surprise from the other end, sucks to be whoever got hit.
As the French girl found herself outside, lying on her back and letting the grass cover her arms and back, she closed in her eyes in defeat. She was done. She simply didn't have the strength to continue, Viktor Krum ruined it all and she probably didn't a have a second chance.
Fleur Delacour was surprised when Harry Potter himself walked up to her, holding a paper folded crane in his hands for her. He made it clear that he was just the messenger and highly suggested that she should definitely read it before she decided to throw it away.
With that, curiosity got the better of her and she took a careful look at the paper bird, admiring it silently before she unfolded it slowly and read the message.
You are bloody impossible.
You are probably the best surprise I've gotten in my life.
Don't you dare walk away
Especially when you've already got what you had wanted
Please. Come back. I'm waiting.
- H
Zzz.