Abundant Skies
Disclaimer: Don't own characters, just the plot.
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I'm sorry for slacking off lately.. I need motivation!! I'm sure you've noticed chapter eleven was very short and it sucked.. I know you've grown used to me updating everyday, and I try to, really.. But I've decided I don't want to write if I don't feel like it. Because what I've noticed is that when people do that, especially me, chapters and stories don't turn out as good, and I want to give you guys my best. Not second best, or anything else. But my absolute best. So, I am sorry if I don't update as much as I used to.
I do hope you all still review!
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Chapter Twelve: If Only
Hermione headed to their first class, not exactly excited as she used to be. Breakfast was dreadful. She sat away from Harry and Ron, but couldn't help but let her gaze wander to the raven-haired boy. She remembered feeling a crushing weight on her heart as she watched him, quietly talking to Ron. He looked pale, bags under his eyes as if he hadn't gotten much sleep. She looked back down at her empty plate. She hadn't gotten much sleep either. She couldn't have possibly looked any better.
True, she hadn't gone through with their `three-weekend deal.' How could she? That meant facing Harry, talking to Harry, pretending like everything was like they were before. Just fine. But everything wasn't fine. Everything wasn't like how they had been before. Everything was but how they were before. She wasn't going to act, or pretend. She didn't have enough energy to. They would be lying to Ron, lying to themselves. And, looking into those emerald eyes that had haunted her for so long.. She knew she couldn't have stayed. She would've run away. She just couldn't bear being in the same room with Harry, let alone face him. Even if Ron was there. She just couldn't. Maybe she was being a coward, because she was terrified of being face to face with Harry. She knew she was. But it wasn't just fear that prevented her from him. It was pain, confusion. Questions that she wanted to be answered so badly, but knew she couldn't bear it if they were. She knew the answers would hurt, they would sear through her already open wounds that could never manage to heal. Not when her feelings for Harry were still intact, and still as strong as before. Maybe even stronger. She didn't know how to confront them, didn't know what to make of them. She had fallen in love for her best friend. She loved her best friend. But she didn't want to do anything about it. Except wish that it would go away. Very soon. But now it was too late. Their friendship had already been tainted, with that kiss.. With his words. She still found it hard to believe that he had meant it. That he had meant to kiss her, Hermione Granger. If he loved her, she didn't know. She highly doubted it, or wished she highly doubted it. But the truth was, it was getting harder and harder to doubt his words, or that he loved her, each minute that passed. She knew she was losing it. She was officially going insane.
She walked into Potions, her eyes falling immediately on Harry, who was sitting with Ron somewhere in the back. His gaze pierced through hers, and she could feel everything rush back to her; her feelings, his words. As if an intense, melting breeze cut through her. She quickly looked away, as she found herself a seat by Lavender, who was busy writing down something on a piece of parchment. Hermione sighed, as she closed her eyes for a moment, mentally telling her heart to stop beating so fast. She opened her eyes slowly, just in time to see Professor Snape enter the classroom. Lavender quickly hid the parchment underneath the sleeve of her robe. Professor Snape eyed each of them carefully, and then started the lesson. Hermione sighed, as she took out her quill and started taking notes, trying to concentrate on taking in the information Snape was teaching them. Although, of course, as her hand took down what he was saying, it wasn't getting through to her. She could barely hear him, as the only thing that occupied her mind was the boy sitting but three rows behind her. It seemed that he was all she could think about ever since that night, as much as she was determined to forget it.
Harry watched Snape, as he took down notes about the Euera lethal plant, and how it was used in many medicines and serums for its poison, which was above all ironic. Harry's eyes fell on the wavy brown haired girl, sitting three rows ahead of him. He felt his eyes glaze over with sadness, and guilt, as he didn't bother to look down at what he was writing. He watched her as she raised her elbow off the table to dip her quill in ink, and then go back to taking notes again. Her hair cascaded down her back, past her shoulders. Harry could feel something warm and bubbly erupt inside of him, as he imagined what it would feel like to run his hands through her wavy hair.. To smell the scent of it, and he remembered how perfectly it had mixed with the faint trace of vanilla on her skin. He wondered how she would taste if he kissed her again, if she would taste just as sweet and saccharine, or even sweeter. He missed the taste of her in his mouth, her soft lips against his.. Harry quickly looked up at Snape, and realized he was behind on his notes. He muttered under his breath, as he got back to taking notes, now at a faster pace.
He knew for a long time that it wasn't safe to even be in the same room with her, especially if he was just beside her, or if she was in front, where he could watch her with ease. He would instantly get distracted, and have a hard time getting back to being focused on his studies or the lecture, for his mind would always wander back to the pretty Gryffindor girl. Especially when it was just them in the common room, or, even with Ron around, his red haired friend seemed to be invisible. He didn't know why he watched her, besides the fact that he had loved her for quite some time now. Maybe it was because he wanted to know everything about her, memorize the way she bit her lip when she was nervous, or the way her hand went from line to line on her parchment so fast, but at the same time, graceful. Hermione was so secretive, at times, especially the past month. She wouldn't open up to him, especially when he had asked her what made her avoid him. Maybe he just watched her because.. Maybe he thought he would find out what she was hiding from him, eventually, if he paid close attention. Which was ridiculous, since now she wasn't speaking to him. He sighed as he quickly got a new piece of parchment paper, and jotted down more notes.
Her avoiding him again led to another thing; the kiss. He had kissed her, because, well, he didn't know what triggered it. Maybe it was his intense feelings that had always been put on hold, or maybe because she had looked so beautiful, with her back to the fire, the firelight making her seem like an angel. It was most likely both. But he had seen in her eyes, he was almost positive, something that made his heart beat even faster and harder, until he could hear in banging in his ears. It was a clue, something that urged him to place his lips upon hers. For once, she hadn't been hiding anything. Her eyes were no longer dark and mysterious, but when he had placed his hand on her cheek, they were honest. The overwhelming, intense, severe truth that she had been struggling to hide for so long.
For one second, when he had looked into her eyes, he had thought that she had loved him too.
That she, Hermione Granger had loved him, Harry Potter, as much as he loved her.
He thought he had seen that in her eyes, as they pleaded at his. He remembered feeling his heart completely freeze, as if it had finally died from pounding in his chest. It hurt for him to think that he had just been mistaken. That it was his ego that had made him see that she loved him. Maybe he just wanted her to love him as much as he loved her so badly, that he made himself see it, although it wasn't there. But there had to be something there. There just had to be. There was something there, when he had looked into her eyes. There wasn't that cloudy haze that blocked him from reading her emotions, like when he had tried those times before. For once, she hadn't been hiding anything from him. He just wished that he could be able to look into her gaze again, just like before, and make sure that it was what he had thought it had been. What he hoped that it was. That she really did love him.
But maybe it was too much he was asking for. Although, he was slightly getting angered, every second she avoided him. She was so determined to forget it, to erase everything that happened that night. But he knew that she couldn't, that somehow deep down inside, it had meant as much to her as it did to him. It was stronger than her will to make it fade from her memory.
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Hermione headed up to the Gryffindor dormitories, another day of classes gone. Somehow she felt empty, dull, and so.. Lifeless, as she walked through the empty corridors. Her footsteps echoed and bounced off the walls, as she looked straight ahead but saw nothing. She could only her the sound of the soles of her shoes on the clean, shiny floor.. No distant laughter or conversations, like she was used to hearing. She wasn't surprised. It was about two hours past lunch, and she was sure they would all be up in their dormitories, doing God knows what. For Hermione, she had eaten a quick, nutriscious lunch, then headed up to the library; a place she knew she would be staying at constantly. For now, it was her place of solitude, although it didn't necessarily bring her any peace. The peace that she desperately needed, deep inside, anyway. It was quiet, and barely anyone was there, and she needed that, even if it did little. To be alone, the silence embracing her, deadening her nerves and senses. She liked how it was, sitting alone on the ground, her back against the sturdy bookcase, closing her eyes and surrendering herself to the blank emptiness and sinking feeling she felt inside of her. The floor would be cold at first, against her bare legs, and she'd feel an icy shiver trace up her spine, causing her to shudder. But after that.. She was gone. She had lost all feeling.
She didn't even go there to read anymore, just to get lost in the stillness that she couldn't have anywhere else in her life.
It was the atmosphere now, not the books filled with brilliant literature and information, that drew her to the place. Maybe once upon a time, she was addicted to the books, but so much had changed. She had changed. She wasn't as thirsty for schoolwork as she had been before. She had grown up, needless to say. Now, more than ever, a lot was on her mind. She couldn't get away from her thoughts, her conscience, and she could feel her mind throbbing with such impatience and demands whenever she was in such noisy places. She needed quiet, and here it was. She needed a place where she could honestly say as a fact no one favored, other than her. And here it was.
But most of all, she needed a place where she could get away from it all. From him. The boy who had managed to steal her heart, the boy who held her heart without having a clue. She didn't know if he would come in here, true. But she just needed somewhere to stay without seeing him, for now. She needed to sort out her thoughts, for they all had been scattered and dispersed.
But most of all, it was ironic. She had come here to get away from her problems, from him. Yet, all she could do here was think about him, and how he affected her in such a major way she could never have imagined. She forced herself not to think about him, of course, but what good does that ever do? She remembered getting so frustrated once, trying to figure out how to end it all. To end her endless trances that revolved around him, to end the avoidance and uneasiness when they were in the same room, or near each other. To end her restless nights, her dreams about the green eyed boy. To end her feelings for him, to end everything.
But how could she end everything? How could she confront all of them at the same time and make it? She didn't know.
She would have to talk to Harry. She couldn't face him. She would just break down, her tears spilling out, falling to her knees. For once, she was weak.
He was her weakness. He was where she just didn't know what to do. He was who she wanted to reach, but couldn't, and dreaded to come in contact with. He was who she would die for. He made her feel everything she hadn't felt before. He made her feel as if she was on the brink of everything, absolutely terrified, yet pleading to be taken away.
He was the boy she loved more than anything.
And how she wished it would just go away.
Hermione quietly said the password to the fat lady, and walked into the Gryffindor common room. Her eyes wandered the room, as she felt as if there was abrupt silence that suddenly filled the room. Her footing almost came to a halt when she realized who it was in the room. A pair of deep, emerald eyes stared at her, along with a pair of dark blue ones. She could feel the sudden intensity in the air, as she forced herself to look down and continue walking. Her legs felt weak, wobbly as if she hadn't walked on both her legs for years.
"Hermione," she heard someone call out. Despite her will, her feet halted, stuck to the carpeted floor. She turned her head to look up, as she looked at her red haired friend, but felt her eyes wandering to Harry. She closed her eyes quickly, her heart beating loudly. Her vision concentrated on Ron.
"Where've you been? It's been two hours since lunch ended." Hermione stared at him, and swallowed hard before speaking. Her thoughts were once again scattered, her nerves running around frantically, as she felt Harry's piercing green gaze on her. She kept telling herself to not look his way, for she could feel her eyes already being tempted to disobey.
"The library, that's all," she said quietly, her voice a bit shaky. Ron searched her face, and took a glance at Harry, who was beside him, before returning to the brown haired girl.
" Are you alright? You seem.. Off." Hermione sighed, looking down.
"I'm fine," she said, and she started to walk up to the girl's dormitories. But then Ron called out to her again, as she could feel her feet buzzing with such a numb feeling.
"Where were you yesterday? You were supposed to meet up with us, remember?" He asked her, his voice echoing and banging in her mind.
She could still feel Harry's gaze on her.
She sighed. "I was busy," she said, before hurrying into the girl's dormitories.
Harry watched the door close behind her, and ran a hand through his raven hair, his gaze still lingering on the door. She had looked so tense, so nervous. Solemn, even. So this was what he did to her. This was how he made her feel. Somehow, he wanted to march up there and force her to listen to him. He would tell her what she did to him, how she distracted him so much and so easily, how much he thought of her each second of everyday. How much sleep he had lost, her brown, sorrowful eyes always managing to invade his weary mind. He wanted her to hear him out, to understand, to comprehend what she made him feel. And maybe, even, after explaining, letting out all his frustration and thoughts and feelings, he would kiss her.
And he hoped, maybe, she would kiss him back, without hesitation and resistance. That she would pull him closer still, just as before, but without any interference of any kind. He could feel his hands almost trembling, as he remembered how soft she had felt, how warm his hands had felt, caressing her small and slender frame. And how her soft lips seemed to feel so heavenly against his, how sweet and saccharine her mouth tasted.
How perfectly they seemed to fit together, somehow making them both realize that they were truly meant for each
other.
Harry sighed, as he returned to the chess game he and Ron had been in before the pretty brown haired Gryffindor girl had walked in, and flung his concentration out the window.
If only he could tell her he loved her.
If only she would let him.
If only she could let herself believe it.