Disclaimer: I do not own Harry or Hermione or the Gryffindor common room. It all belongs to the brilliant JKR. The song "Til There Was You" is from the musical "The Music Man" and it was written by Meredith Wilson. That also means I don't own it, he does. Other than that. there's not much left to own.
I'm Still Here
A rugged black haired, green eyed, teenage boy sat tiredly in front of a blazing fire. The beautiful clock on the large maple mantle rang twelve times. The boy sighed deeply and rubbed his eyes.
"Are you still up Harry?" a female voice said quietly from behind.
Harry turned his head and smiled weakly at the girl.
"Suppose I am," he muttered.
Hermione walked over and sat beside him on the large scarlet couch. The two stayed together in silence for a while, staring at the fire. Before any of them knew it, the clock struck one. Harry turned to Hermione and smiled gently. She had nodded off and her head was resting peacefully on her shoulder.
"Wake up," Harry whispered, nudging his friend softly.
"Huh?" The girl turned her head slightly and looked groggily up at him
"Tired?" Harry asked kindly.
Hermione sat up straight and blinked her eyes a few times.
"A tad," she smiled. Hermione looked down and noticed a piece of parchment with many scribbles and a quill in between her and Harry. "What's this?" she asked, picking up the paper.
"Nothing," Harry replied nervously, reaching from the parchment.
Hermione turned so he couldn't reach and began to read out loud.
"Frustrated, angry, guilty," the light brunette muttered, "tired, lost, lonely." She looked up into Harry's bright green eyes. They seemed so sad to her. "What is this Harry?" she said softly.
"Well," Harry began, feeling a little uncomfortable, "you said to write out my feelings and-"
"That's how you feel," Hermione finished his sentence, not breaking eye contact from him. Harry nodded solemnly and bowed his head.
"Why did you want me to write this out anyway?" Harry asked, breaking an awkward silence.
"For inspiration," Hermione said shortly.
"For what?" Harry looked up at her, confused.
"The Talent Show," she answered. Harry gave her a blank expression and she sighed. "Harry, I don't know if you or Ron or if anyone ever knew this, but I've been playing the guitar since I was eight. I've been writing my own songs since I was nine. Of course, they were always quite stupid and senseless little ditties, but hey, I was just a kid. Well, anyway, I thought that maybe, if you wanted, I could help you write a song and you can perform it at the show."
"No way!" Harry objected rather loudly.
"Do you have a better idea?" Hermione asked crossly.
Harry pleaded with her eyes and saw that there was no use fighting with her. He tried one last time.
"I don't know how to sing," he complained.
"I highly doubt that."
"It's true."
"Sing for me then," Hermione said smartly, "prove that you can't sing."
"But Herm-"
"But Herm," Hermione mocked. Harry glared at her and she glared back. "I'm waiting Harry."
"Fine," Harry sighed, giving up, "what would you like me to sing Herm?"
"Hmmm," Hermione pondered, a smile twisting on her face, "I love so many songs. Do you by any chance know. . . 'Til There Was You?'"
"If I say yes do I have to sing it?"
Hermione looked at Harry crossly again and he sighed.
"There were bells on the hill, but I never heard them ringing. No, I never heard them at all, til there was you. . ."
"Keep going," Hermione encouraged him, watching him intently. Harry nodded and began to sing softly once again.
"There were birds in the sky, but I never saw them winging. No, I never saw them at all, til there was you. And there was music, and there were wonderful roses, they tell me in sweet fragrant meadows of dawn, and dew. . . There was love all around, but I never heard it singing. No, I never heard it at all, til there was. . . you. . ."
Harry ended the song and watched Hermione. She seemed to be lost in his green eyes, not moving, hardly breathing. For the first time in a while he couldn't read what her bright brown eyes were trying to tell him. After a few minutes of staring at each other, Hermione blinked and turned away, a slight pink growing on her light cheeks.
"Well," Hermione whispered, looking back up at Harry, "I think we'll start writing your song tomorrow."
Harry nodded. They kept eye contact for a little longer until Hermione stood up and walked off to bed. Harry sat there for a little while longer, watching her go. She wasn't acting like the Hermione he used to know, but somehow she was. Either way, he didn't want this Hermione to go away.