Disclaimer: I do not own anything Harry Potter related.
Love Letters
Chapter 5
Hermione awoke the following morning and immediately pulled her journal out from under her bed. She hadn't written
in it in ages, but it had always helped her in good times and bad. She turned the old, yellow tinted papers to her last
entry. She was eleven when she wrote it, the day before she began her life at Hogwarts. The brunette took a deep breath
as memories flooded back to her.
Dear Journal,
Tonight will be the last night I will spend in my room until Christmas. I still cannot believe what has happened to me this summer. I always knew I was different. The kids at school always made fun of me. I can't blame them though; I'm such an easy target. But there was something more to me than just books and brains. I remember when I was younger, I once hid in the church to keep away from the taunts and laughter. I got on my knees and prayed that my life would be better than what it was, that I would be meant for something greater. I guess God answers prayers in strange ways. I'm a witch. No, I'm not the nasty, name calling kind but an actual wand holding, broom riding witch. I've spent the last three weeks reading up on the history of the magical world. I may have over done it a bit, but I cannot go to Hogwarts School of Witchcraft and Wizardry tomorrow and look like a total buffoon. I just can't. But you know what? I have the greatest feeling that my life will keep changing for the better. Did you know, that about 11 years ago, an evil wizard was at the peek of his career, killing off innocent people and destroying the world? But when he tried to kill a tiny baby, he failed and the baby lived. The child's name is Harry Potter and he'll be one of my new classmates. I've read all about him. It must be awful to lose your parents when you're only a year old but he must be such a strong, wonderful person to be able to save everyone like that. The book said he has raven black hair like his father, the famous James Potter, and stunning green eyes like his mother, Lily. Green's always been my favorite color. I hate my eyes. They are so dull and brown. And my hair! Oh gosh, it's still the frizz ball it's always been; I can't do anything with it. But maybe Harry Potter will see past my childish looks and see the smart, sophisticated, and kind person I can be. Maybe we'll sit together on the train ride there, and he'll tell me about all the adventures he must have had throughout his life. And better yet, maybe we'll be in the same house. He's bound for Gryffindor. Oh Lord, please, let me be in his house! Wait, what am I saying? Nothing great ever happens to me. Harry Potter's too good for me. I guess all I can do is dream.
Love, Hermione
"Whoa," Hermione muttered, reading the last part of the entry again. It sounded as though she had a thing for Harry before she even met him. It seemed that God had answered a few more prayers of hers though. She was in the same house as Harry, and although the beginning of their first year was rocky, they've been the best friends since. Harry was such a great person. He brought out the best in Hermione, and helped her grow into the person she was. Hermione sighed and lay back on her bed.
She just couldn't like her best friend. She couldn't. It's like an unwritten law. Thou shall not fall in love with best friend. Hermione loved Harry of course, but she was not in love with him. It's not like he was in love with her. He said so himself that he didn't like her. After more mind- boggling considerations, Hermione smiled and took a pen out of her desk drawer.
Dear Journal,
I'm in love with my best friend, but you might know him better as Harry Potter.
-:-
Harry got up earlier than planned that morning. He was going on a date with Hermione. Of course it was just an act, but he was going to a movie, with Hermione, with no parental supervision. It was a date. It had to be. Harry couldn't stop thinking about the girl. Whenever he closed his eyes, he could see the image of her sitting innocently on his bed. Her dress rose right above her knee, when she stood. But sitting there, the form fitting outfit rose a few more inches and revealed quite a bit of flesh. She had taken off her jacket, allowing her bare shoulders and low neckline to be quite noticeable. Hermione had developed over the years and her womanly features were flattering to her figure. Harry then imagined her face, clear and glowing, with just the slightest bit of make-up. And her hair, in soft ringlets, it cascaded down her back. Hermione was a knockout.
"What am I thinking?" Harry voiced out loud. He was thinking about Hermione, but in ways he shouldn't be thinking about his best friend. He walked to the bathroom and tried to tame his black mane in the mirror. As he stared at his reflection, he began to drift back to the night before last.
"You care about me?" the girl had asked, a hint of surprise in her tone.
"Of course I do," Harry answered, turning to her, "only an idiot wouldn't be worried about you."
"Oh so now you're worried," Hermione declared, turning towards the open window with a smile dancing on her pink lips.
"I'm never going to let another Krum hurt you ever again," the boy said confidently. The young girl turned back to him and wrapped him in a warm embrace, which they held for quite a while. Minutes seemed to pass by in the blink of an eye and the two had found their way to the comfortable bed before them. Harry had wrapped his arm around her small frame and breathed in the scent of her hair. They had fallen asleep in that position for a while, and by the time they had waken up, it was time for Hermione to depart. Once they were outside, Harry had wrapped her in another tight hug. When they released, the two teenagers gazed into each other's eyes, and as if by some magnetic force, their faces were drawing closer together. Harry tilted his head and was about to close his eyes when Hermione turned away and said good bye in a hurry.
"She turned away," Harry muttered to himself. He looked at his depressed image and sighed. He didn't know what had come over him that night, but whatever it was, he was about to kiss his best friend. Obviously, Hermione hadn't wanted the same things and this saddened Harry for some reason.
"I can't fancy Hermione," Harry said defiantly to himself. He then pictured Hermione's dazzling face and sighed. "Alright, maybe I can."
-:-
Harry walked the streets of London that night, frantically searching for the right theater. The city was unbelievably
crowed, which meant Harry had to push to make his way through the people. He accidentally bumped into a teenage girl,
knocking her purse out of her hands. The girl groaned and got on all fours to pick up her things.
"I'm so sorry," Harry apologized, kneeling down to pick up her belongings. Yet in doing so, he knocked heads with the girl and fell back, as did she. Instead of cussing him out, however, she began to laugh.
"Harry you are such a klutz," the girl giggled, pushing her long, brown hair out of her face.
"Hermione?" Harry asked, a bit taken aback.
"Who else?" replied Hermione with a tint of annoyance in her voice. She stood up and brushed herself off. Harry noticed that she was wearing something quite unusual for Hermione. Jean pants (which barely rose under her naval, which was showing along with another inch of toned stomach), a red halter top (which revealed her shoulders yet again), and the same jean jacket she wore the previous night (which she was carrying under her arm).
"Hermione," Harry said, closing the gap between them so that their noses were touching, "I can't believe your parents let you out of the house like this. Put something on."
"Yeah," Hermione answered, "right Dad."
"Hey!"
The girl grinned devilishly and made her way to the ticket line. They had decided to see some romantic comedy that had recently come out. The movie wasn't something Harry would want to see twice, but Hermione was enchanted by it and insisted on seeing it again sometime soon.
Later that night, with ice cream in their hands, they walked the streets of London side by side. Hermione had pointed out all the places she used to visit when she was younger. Everything was so natural to her, but Harry was taking much of the scenery in for the first time. Yet what he kept taking in the most was Hermione. She was absolutely radiant in the starlight. The two had been strolling around a park for about twenty minutes and Hermione had thought it best to sit awhile.
"So," she said after a few moments, "what haven't we talked about?"
"Hmm," Harry thought, "well, we have yet to discuss the greatness that protrudes from my being."
Hermione laughed and gave him a playful punch on the arm. Deciding to play along, Harry pinched her shoulder. Hermione shrieked and stomped on his foot before running off. Getting the picture, Harry jumped up and ran after her. It didn't take long for him to catch up to her and as they were running by a hill, he dived and tackled her down. Hermione screamed and tried to get out from under Harry's strong grip. Her constant movement caused them to roll down the hill together. They soon reached the bottom, laughing uncontrollably. Harry had pinned Hermione so that she was helpless below him. After catching their breaths, they both looked into each other's eyes, trying to see past the deep colors. Harry stared fondly at his friend. His friend. Hermione, she was his friend, yet so much more than that. He wanted more than anything to hold her face in his hands, brush his lips across hers gently, and stay like that forever.
"What are you thinking?" Hermione whispered, brushing some of Harry's stray hair out of his eyes.
"I'm thinking," Harry said gently, "about you."
A warm smile curved onto Hermione's lips. Harry took a deep breath in preparation of what he was about to do. He leaned his head forward. Hermione sensed his motive, and instead of turning away this time, she tilted her head to the left. Both their eyes fluttered closed and sweet music filled their ears as their lips finally met for the first time. At first the kiss was slow and soft, allowing the teenagers to take in what was happening to them. The kiss then progressed to something faster and more intense. Opening his mouth a little, Harry was surprised to find Hermione's tongue slip its way past his lips and explore his mouth forcefully. Hermione moved her arms up Harry's neck and wove her fingers between his ebony locks. Harry's hands moved up and down her back, rubbing it softly as he went along. What had started out as a simple kiss was now turning into something strong and passionate. Harry rolled his tongue across Hermione's lips and she welcomed him in an instant. One of his hands remained on her back as the other one tangled itself in her now messy mane. A small shriek had escaped from Hermione's mouth and Harry kissed her harder, finding it comforting as she relaxed beneath him. After at least a half an hour of endless bliss, the two had separated, breathing hastily.
"Holy cricket," Hermione muttered in shock.
"Holy shit," Harry said in amazement.
The two remained silent for awhile, not able to take their eyes off each other. Hermione gently grazed her fingers across Harry's numb lips and he softly rubbed her cheek with his thumb. After a few more moments, Hermione suddenly pushed Harry away and started to pace around frantically.
"Hermione," Harry said, trying to calm her.
"We just, I can't believe we just," she was muttering under her breath. Harry put his arm on her shoulder to stabilize her but she just stopped and stared at him wide-eyed. "What did we just do?"
"Well," Harry said slowly, "we just, snogged, a lot."
"Oh my God," she cried, running up the hill.
"Hermione," Harry called, running after her. He caught up to her at the top and took hold of her arm. "Where are you going?"
"I'm getting my purse Harry," Hermione said casually, "I haven't called my parents and I'm sure it's about time to be getting home."
"Oh," Harry shrugged.
Once Hermione had collected her things and called her folks, she and Harry took one last stroll around the park holding hands.
"So," Hermione said, "some fake date."
"I agree," Harry smiled. He stopped and looked down upon her. He took her face in his hands and began to kiss her again. It was much softer than their first kiss was yet just as perfect. When he stepped back, Hermione was smiling brightly.
"We should fake date more often."
"I agree."
Their lips met again for the third time that night. This time though, it was more intense and passionate. Harry slid his hands up the back of Hermione's shirt, under her bra, and massaged her bare skin gently. Hermione, on the other hand, was moving her hands up and down the front of Harry's shirt. She finally unbuttoned his first three buttons, giving her more to play with. Harry stopped abruptly.
"You've done this before," he pointed out.
Hermione grinned wickedly and grabbed his collar, forcing his head back down so that their lips could meet again. Before they could go anything farther though, a voice put them at a frightening halt.
"Hermione Elizabeth Granger!"
"Mum!"