Abundant Skies
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thanks to my friends, and Mrs. Delong for helping me decide the fic's title.. This is my first Hermione/Harry fic I've posted up, so sorry if it isn't that good. I do hope you enjoy it, though.
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Chapter One: The Green Eyed Boy
Hermione sighed, as she finished off her transfiguration essay. She quickly put away her quill and held her aching and sore hand, her wrist throbbing. She smiled, exhausted but satisfied. Harry looked up, as he dipped his quill for more ink. He smiled at her.
"Finished already?" He chuckled, lightly. Hermione beamed at him, and he could feel his heart stop for a second.
"All in due time, Harry," she smiled, cradling her wrist, "all in due time." He watched her as she gathered up all her parchments and textbooks, but she looked up and froze when she saw his eyes were still on her. She laughed, put it all down in one neat pile, and looked over at him.
"You need any help?" She asked him. He smiled, as he shook his head. He started writing again on his almost filled piece of parchment.
"I've had enough help, Hermione," he said. "Besides, you look exhausted. It's quite late, you should head up to bed." Hermione smiled at him, grateful, but she looked over at the fire, feeling the tiredness and weariness of her mind and body. But she refused to go up to her dorm for some sleep. Not yet. The fire flickered, and the playful flames danced, and chasing the shadows. The fire was strong and thriving, the room warm and filled with the yellow, dreamlike light. But she smiled faintly, as she remembered the green eyed boy beside her. She looked over at him, concentrating hard on his essay, and writing furiously on his parchment.
She smiled. " That's alright, Harry. I'll stay with you until you finish." He looked up at her, and flashed her the smile her heart melted at seeing.
"Thanks, Hermione," he said to her, before returning to his work.
She could feel a bubbly feeling erupt in her stomach, restless and hyperactive. She couldn't help but feel as if the room had gotten warmer when she was with Harry. Especially when they were alone, without their other Gryffindor friends there to interrupt or distract them. She liked being alone with Harry, or just being with him, period. She felt nervous and awkward, sure, but at the same time, at ease and safe. Every single morning, she remembered, she would look forward to seeing his face, seeing his smile that always seemed to make her heart skip a beat, his deep emerald eyes that always seemed to trapped her in a trance. She smiled at him, although he couldn't see.
She had always admired Harry, for his bravery and kindness.. He had such a good heart, and that was so hard to find in guys, she knew. She leaned back, her back flat on the carpeted floor. She looked up at the ceiling, only hearing the crackles of the fire, and Harry's fast writing. She closed her eyes, a smile on her face.
She didn't know how she had fallen in love with the raven-haired boy. She wouldn't have preferred it, because after all, he was her friend, and there was no way on this earth or in her lifetime he would see her as anything else than a friend. Because that was all she was to Harry. A friend. Or maybe even, if she was lucky, a best friend. But she couldn't ask for more; that just wasn't fair. But somehow, her reasonableness didn't come into play in this situation-her situation- for no matter how much she told herself she was perfectly being happy being his friend, she couldn't help wanting to be more than that.
She didn't know how her admiralty grew into such a thing as this, or when. All she remembered was being so eager to write letters to him during the summer, and even more eager when he wrote back to her. She remembered reading his letters so fast, her eyes traveling from line to line, then going back over it about, oh, five more times, looking for hints, and such. But of course, she would only be met with disappointment, as she would tuck the letter into a special box she had for his letters. She remembered staying up at night, her thoughts so scattered and restless, thinking about Harry. She would see the moonlight spilled across her carpeted floor, for it had managed to slip through her curtains. And she would get up, and pull the heavy curtains back, only to sit by the window and watch the full, milky glowing moon. It shone so brightly, it seemed so heavenly.
She remembered sitting by her window, wondering if Harry was watching the moon also. And she would feel a slight weight on her heart, as she thought about how ridiculous that was. His bloody aunt and uncle kept him in a cupboard, and she doubted very much that he had a window, much less anything else that would allow him see the moon, or the night sky from his prison cell. It always saddened her, thinking about Harry.. Staying at his horrid relative's house, trapped and treated terribly like a prisoner. It wasn't pity, no. She really wanted Harry to be happy; she really wanted to see his smile more often, his green eyes sparkle brighter. She could feel a dark cloud hover above her, as she thought about the only time she had seen him truly happy; with Sirius.. But fate, so cruel and mean to him, just had to take him away too, just like Harry's parents. But there was also.. Cho Chang. Hermione felt as if it was hard to swallow.
Sure, Cho had been nice, and she remembered the look on Harry's face when she had agreed to go out with him.. The way he had that smile stuck on his face, as if it had been plastered on, for the whole day, and even the day after that. She remembered how his laugh had been so full and hearty, and hearing it made it seem as if the heavens outside were singing. And the way his emerald eyes sparkled and glimmered, as he told them his happy news. Only, as bad of a friend as she was, she wasn't happy. Sure, she was happy for him.. But she remembered her smile being slightly strained, and if it hadn't been for shock, that smile would've been harder to get. But Harry had been so happy, with Cho.. That is, until they had agreed things wouldn't work out, about three months later.. But he had been okay about that too, as he just smiled slightly, explaining to both her and Ron that they were just too different.
Hermione remembered thinking that she could never have made Harry as happy as Cho had made him, even if it had lasted just three months. She could've never made him smile like that, make him so blissfully happy that even Snape couldn't manage to dampen his day. She could never do that to Harry. And just thinking that thought alone, she remembered, sitting out by her window, almost drove her to tears.
It had started two years ago, during their third year.. She still remembered that shifting, changing feeling inside her, when Harry smiled at her. And things obviously went downhill from there. First she thought it was just.. a phase, maybe. But she could feel it growing bigger and bigger, every time she was with him. She knew she had fallen in love with her best friend, Harry Potter. And she remembered thinking, `out of all the people, why him?'
Because of course, as her love grew deeper and bigger, her situation presented many problems. First of all, he was her friend. Making an attempt of any relationship besides the one they had now, would obviously wound or damage their friendship, most likely. Second, she was his friend, and that was all he could picture her of being. She didn't have to be smart to see that he had no feelings for her but the mutual feelings friends should have, towards one another. Third, she was in such a complicated and hard competition. There was just no way she could compete with all the other girls who were `attracted' to him. God knows she was about the least attractive of all of them. What with her so common and plain brown hair, and brown eyes. True, she had developed over the summer, and her hair was no longer bushy, and had grown into long waves. She had grown taller, of course, but she judged herself as to be plain looking; not attractive in any way. She didn't have blonde shimmering hair that seemed to be as if God himself had spun and weaved it himself. She didn't have the sexy, curvy body that most of the girls her year had. She was just.. Plain.
Sure, it was true, people could like people for their personality, and not much for their appearance, but when it came to Harry.. Well, Cho had been so pretty, with her silky jet-black hair, and lengthy, slender legs. Surely she couldn't compete with that. She thought falling for Harry had been the worst thing that had ever happened to her.. The most unexpected thing to ever happen to her.
And now.. She was so sure she loved him, loved him so much it pained her to see him unhappy. Loved him so much she would give her own life, for him. But apparently.. It just wasn't enough. It wasn't enough to get him to notice her, in that way. In the way she wanted to be noticed. It wasn't fair. But then, of course, nothing was fair.
"Hermione? Hermione?" Someone was shaking her awake. Her eyes fluttered open, as her vision constructed itself. There she was looking up into the deepest emerald pools she had ever seen, and looking into them made a tingling shiver trace up her spine.
Harry smiled down on her, his hands on her shoulders. Hermione felt as if his hands were burning right through the thin fabric of her blouse, his fingers searing her flesh. She smiled at him, slightly embarrassed.
"You dozed off," he grinned at her. She looked down, a blush creeping through her cheeks. Harry let go off her, the warmth he once held in his hands now disappearing, the cold air invading his veins. He watched her, as she looked down on the ground. He was sorry to let go; she brought a certain glowing warmth inside of him that he could feel spread throughout him, tapping into his bloodstream, rushing through his veins. And his hands holding her.. It sent shivers buzzing through him. She had been so warm, so soft.. Harry smiled at her.
"I'm finished," he said to her, softly. She looked up and met his eyes, trapping her in his gaze.
"That's great, Harry," she smiled. And Harry felt a breath cease in his throat, as she smiled at him. Her hair seemed lighter, trapping the light in. She seemed to have a glowing yellow haze around her, making her seem like a goddess. Her brown eyes sparkled, and she looked radiant. Harry was speechless as he marveled at her..
"Harry?" she asked. "Are you alright?" Harry was snapped out of his trance as she looked at him with concern flickering in her eyes. He sighed, as he turned away.
He gathered up all his parchments and textbooks, and as he got them all into one pile, he ran a hand through his hair and smiled at her.
"Yeah, I'm fine, " he said to her. Hermione watched him, packing up his quill and things. She sighed, sorry to go to bed, only to think and dream about the green eyed boy. It saddened her, knowing she wouldn't have a chance with him in her lifetime. But it also comforted her, seeing his deep emerald eyes in her dreams. Even if it just reminded her that she could never be the kind of girl Harry could ever love, or let alone, like.
She gave him one last look, and she went over to the table and started packing her things up.
When Harry was done, he waited and watched her for a bit. He couldn't help but think how.. Graceful she was. He watched her as she grasped her textbooks, her fingers curling at the edges. Harry couldn't help but think she had one of the nicest hands he had ever seen. Finally, when she was done, she stood up.
He smiled at her. "Goodnight, Hermione."
Hermione smiled back at him, her eyes tracing his features, the way the shadows played across his face. "Goodnight, Harry," she said quietly, and she walked past him, up to the girl's dormitories.
Harry sighed, watching her until she closed the door, and headed into his own dormitories.
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Harry stayed awake that night, not being able to sleep for the second week now. For always, a certain Gryffindor girl plagued his mind. He sighed, staring up at the ceiling.
He remembered her brown, sparkling eyes. Her silky wavy brown hair, that even he longed to run his hands through. The way her mouth curved into such a beautiful smile.. It nearly took his breath away. He remembered just about an hour ago, when they were in the common room, nothing but the firelight to write by. He remembered the way her brown eyes seemed darker than usual, looking as if she were deep in thought, or in a dreamlike trance. And the way the light had chased the playful shadows across her face, making her seem more mysterious than usual. Harry couldn't concentrate, with the butterflies so hyperactive in his stomach, knowing the object of his affection was right in front of him. She distracted him, yes. But he liked having her around; all he wanted to do was be around her. Even if those constant flips his heart kept doing bothered him.
He didn't know when this had started, or how. All he remembered was on the last day of last year, she had kissed him again on the cheek, but this time, he felt an odd warm feeling fill him, tingling and buzzing through him, from the tips of his hair to his toes. And he came to the Dursley's still thinking about her, and the way her lips had felt so soft against his skin.
Over the summer, he remembered the picture she had sent him, of her on vacation in the States. He remembered the picture so well; she had been wearing a pale yellow sundress, standing in front of the beach. Her wavy hair was being blown gently by the wind, her pink lips curved into such a beautiful smile. He had stayed up every night, staring at it with the only light was from the moonbeams spilling from the small caged window in his cupboard. He had memorized it, traced her outline in the photo with his finger dozens of times, wishing he was already at Hogwarts so he could be with her again. He had wanted to come back so badly, just to see her again.
Harry grinned, remembering all those feeling rush back to him; excitement when he had received her letters, and eager as he would send his letter back to her, hoping she would respond fast.
His grin became wider, as he shut his eyes, slowly.
That was the summer Harry Potter had fallen in love with Hermione Granger.