Unknown Analogy

Epona

Rating: G
Genres: Romance
Relationships: Harry & Hermione
Book: Harry & Hermione, Books 1 - 5
Published: 18/01/2004
Last Updated: 18/01/2004
Status: completed

Hermione studies Harry's Face while he's asleep. Is he really as asleep as she thinks he is?

Chapters

1. Unknown Analogy

1. Unknown Analogy

‘I am such an idiot.’

Hermione Granger sighed deeply into her hands. She looked up, her gaze swiftly skimming across the lake, where the giant squid was languidly raising its long oily tentacles up out of the black waters, like a palomino horse tail swatting a fly, but even the breathtakingly beautiful scenery of the Hogwarts grounds wasn’t enough to clear her mind at the moment.

She was sitting in ‘the spot’. Their spot. The spot where they would take long walks whenever either of them needed to talk, they would subtly catch each others eye and with a meaningful look, they would find some way of excusing themselves politely from whatever they would be doing at the time, and meet, 5 minutes later, out by the lake in their spot. ‘Our Spot.’ they called it. ‘Used to call it,’ she thought bitterly, the sun falling from its throne in the sky, bathing the Hogwarts grounds in a bath of soft pinks, yellows, reds, and oranges. ‘He probably won’t even want to talk to me again.’

She could remember it as if it was permanently imprinted upon her brain, however much she wanted to be rid of it. She wished she could take it back, just turn back time and take back what she did. What she wouldn’t give for that time-turner now. She’d just made one of the biggest mistakes of her life, and right now, it seemed, she was paying for it in angst. She’d kissed her best friend.

-)*(-

He was sitting on the velvety, scarlet couch in front of a vivid burning fire, his sooty raven hair more tossed about and windswept than usual. ’How cute.’ she had thought absent-mindedly to herself. She moved tentatively closer to the fire, its’ warmth radiating over her like a hot shower. She peeked timidly at him, and found that he had his eyes tightly shut. She plopped down beside him, a mischievous smile on her face, expecting him to violently wake up in surprise. His eyes stayed shut.

‘Harry? You awake?’

She sat up on her knees, and leaned over him uncertainly to peer at his face. His eyelids were tightly shut, though had a soft, light look about them behind the glasses. His face clearly told that he was at peace, something which he had not gained a lot of over the past couple of years. Her eyes lingered on his for a moment, imagining them to be wide open, filled with mirth and emotion, remembering the dazzlingly deep green eyes she’d gladly drown in and sell her soul to. She left the eyes and moved her study of Harry’s facial features to his lips, rosy, red, yet slightly chapped due to constant quidditch practice Angelina was forcing the team to endure. Absent-mindedly, she brought a slender hand up to his face and lay a thin finger on his them.

‘They’re so soft…’ She mused, tracing a finger up his face along to his scar. The infamous scar. It was this which earned him the title of ‘The Boy who Lived’, which could not really be counted as a blessing, more of a curse. This scar was the reason he had been sent to live with abusive ‘carers’, and made to live stuck under the stairs while the entire wizarding world knew his name and honoured it. Her heart softened dramatically when she thought of how he was made to live. ‘How can he be such a lovely person with all the bad things in his life?’

She leaned closer still, her nose almost touching his forehead, staring avidly at the crimson lightning bolt emblazoned onto Harry’s head. She was so engrossed by his scar that she did not notice one of the brilliantly bottle green eyes cracking open ever so slightly, a cocky lopsided grin spreading across the young man’s face. She continued to become entranced by the scar.

‘I wonder what it would be like to kiss it…’ she thought to herself, clearly not registering ni her head what she was thinking. When it did finally hit home though, she mentally slapped her self from the inside.

‘Where did that come from?’

She had no time to ponder this as she soon became preoccupied with Harry once again. Letting her mind drift away, she was vaguely aware of her hand floating up to brush aside the raven locks across Harry’s forehead. She moved closer, not taking her eyes away from Harry’s soft tanned skin, the crimson slash of lightning Burnt onto his skin, her lips, but two inches from his forehead…

‘BOO!’

She yelped and immediately jumped back, only to land awkwardly…

Onto Harry’s lap.

Startled, she jumped again as her eyes made contact with his face, she fell backwards and almost hit the floor. She shut her eyes, waiting for the bump and the sharp pain, but it never came. Instead there were two strong hands on her back, holding her up, preventing her from falling. She opened her eyes and looked up at Harry, to find a cheeky grin plastered all over his face.

‘Interesting position we’re in.’

She took this as opportunity to survey her surroundings. Upon further inspection, she flushed a deep pink, and diverted her face from his in embarrassment. She was sitting, almost completely straddling Harry, her legs around his waist, hands on his firm chest. His arms were around her, holding her up from crashing to the ground.

‘Harry, I-I’m so sorry… I didn’t know you were awake - I- I mean…’ She trailed off. She had made the mistake of looking into Harry’s piercingly beautiful eyes. She could not look away.

He was looking at her with a worried and confused expression on his young face.

‘’Mione? Are you Ok?’ he asked. ‘is something wro-’

He was cut off by Hermione’s lips pressing firmly onto his in a deep kiss, her mouth pushing against his, her tongue skirting timidly along his bottom lip. Flashing lights were going of in her head, a rational voice in her head telling her that this was wrong, asking her what the hell was she doing and telling hr to wake up. She was about to submit to this voice of reasoning, when a different voice entered her head, a kinder one, which for some reason, seemed more important than the voice of reason.

‘Why does this feel so nice? I’ve never felt anything like this before. He feels like heaven on earth, like we fit. This feels so…right. Is this… is this Love I’m feeling?’

Eventually, she broke away, gasping for breath, petrified at the look on Harry’s face after her sudden outburst of affection. What would it be? Rejection? Disgust? Maybe even Hate?

When her voice of reason finally got through to her and made her glance up at his face, she was confused. His face was one of shock, enchanted eyes wide, his kips still in the position from the kiss. It made him look a lot more like the scared little boy she had first met on the Hogwarts Express that fateful day. He looked lost, very lost, but there was something behind all that which she could not decipher. Her senses finally came back to her and she ran.

-)*(-

And here she was, face in her hands, wishing to Merlin she could turn back time, at least, disappear into the grassy floor. She became vaguely aware of the footsteps behind her, but did not turn around; she knew who it was anyway.

‘’Mione?’

He reached up and laid a firm hand on her shoulder, but she resisted and whipped around to face him. She was going to try to explain, she had to make him understand.

‘Harry, I’m so sorry… I know you probably hate me right now, but-’

He lay a finger on her lips and she obediently fell silent.

‘’Mione, I would never hate you, not ever, not for any reason, You know that.’

‘Yes… I know that. But Harry, I want to explain why I did it. It came to me while I was kissing you, I didn’t know what made me do it in the first place, but I know why I did it now. It’s because…’

She turned away from him. This was getting hard.

‘It’s because… I- I’m in love with you.’

She was glad she had turned away, as tears threatened to well up in her eyes. She did not want to let him see what he was doing to her, but he put a hand on her shoulder, causing Hermione’s heart to jump into her throat, and turned her slowly around.

‘’Mione, I want to say I’m in love with you too, I really do…’ He said softly, her face falling. ‘I want to say it so badly, because you are my best friend, and I’d do anything to make you happy. But…’ It was his turn to divert his face from hers, looking somewhat shy. She was slightly confused. ‘I wouldn’t know whether it was true or not.’

Her heart almost broke at the sight of him, standing there in front of her, not looking at her, timidly telling her that he had no idea whether he felt love or not. She felt terrible pity for him.

‘All I do know though,’ he continued. ‘Is what I feel when about you, I don’t know if it qualifies as love. Growing up like I have,’ his face, although diverted from hers, told her plainly that he did not want to talk about it. ‘I wouldn’t know love if Dobby shoved it up my nose with a couple of cream cakes.’ They shared a laugh, Harry shyly lifting his head up a little higher.

He took a deep breath. ‘Well,’ he began to blush, making him look perfectly adorable. ‘When I’m with you, It’s like there’s nothing I can’t do. Whether it’s homework, searching for clues to some seemingly unsolvable mystery or giving giants English lessons, if I’m with you, then I can do it. When I’m with you, I’m on top if the world, and I never want to come down. On top of the world, I have people who like me for me, and not my scar, people who know me as ‘Harry’ and not ‘Harry Potter, the Boy who Lived.’ When you laugh, it wipes out all of the background noises and disturbances. It’s a beautiful song, which no nightingale could match. When I hear it, I forget that I have a powerful homicidal sorcerer after my blood. When you touch me, it’s like static electricity, I’d jump away from it, if it wasn’t for the fact that I want to touch you more. You understand me better than myself. You know what I’m thinking, what I’m feeling, when I need to talk, or when I need to be left alone. You’re there for me when I do want to talk, and that means so much to me.’

Blushing a deep pink again, she looked down at her shoes. He did the same.

‘I’ve listened to other people’s definitions of Love, Hermione,’ he said softly, examining his laces. ‘And what I feel for you fits all of them, and more.’

He looked up, as did she, and in that moment, she made the same mistake for the second time that day, she caught her eyes with his own. This time she saw raw emotion, fear, minor confusion, but what she could pick out most of all was the one she was longing to see. Love.

He moved closer, closing the gap between them. Before she could stop to think his mouth was on hers, in a passionate embrace. The kiss deepened as Harry moved closer still, until Hermione tripped and fell backwards onto the soft autumn grass, taking Harry along with her, not breaking their kiss once. She wrapped her arms gently around his neck, and she could feel the static electricity that Harry had described to beautifully within her.

They broke apart when the need for air became apparent, and she smiled contentedly up at him. He ginned back, with that adorable lopsided grin.

‘You know what? I think I love you, Hermione Granger.’

She beamed, and tossed him playfully over until she was on top.

‘You know what? I know I love you, Harry Potter.’