Sweet Like Chocolate.
I will one day though. I'll tell her that I love the way her hair feels, smells and how she laughs. I'll tell her how much I love her eyes and they way they crinkle and shine when she laughs. I'll tell her how much like chocolate she is, sweet, addictive and in wizarding cases, healing. I'll show her how much I need her. One day, I'll show her how much I love her.
Hermione laid down the piece of parchment laden with Harry's untidy scrawl in numb shock. She had picked it up uncertainly, finding it fallen on the floor in the musty room Harry shared with Ron at Grimmauld Place, wondering whether or not she should read it, but her curiosity had gotten the better of her and she had continued to read.
Oh, how glad she was that she did.
She skimmed through the parchment again, her deep brown eyes resting slightly on the part where Harry described her as 'chocolate-like', and gave a small smile. He could be quite sweet, really, if only he showed it once in a while. Skimming down throughout the whole thing, she felt a large lump grow steadily in her throat, as she tried to hold back the tears that welled up uninvited into her eyes. The way Harry was describing her was incredible, it made her feel wanted… needed. How he felt about her, how he described his feelings, and how he actually did take notice of all the little things she did that she thought he hadn't, it brought tears to her eyes and a shock to her heart.
Not really watching where she was going, she managed to shakily make her way to Harry's bed, placing a trembling hand on the sheets before sitting down, the piece of parchment still wrapped firmly in her hand. Did he feel the same way as she felt about him? She read the bottom of the parchment with some confusion.
One day, I'll show her how much I love her.
What did that mean? Did it mean that Harry secretly loved her? For three years, Hermione had watched Harry ignore her, treat her as a best friend but nothing more, fall for Cho Chang and share his first shy kiss with her, leaving Hermione on the sidelines like 'One of the guys.'. She had felt her fair share of heartache when Harry had shouted at her last year, or when he wasn't talking to her for some reason. She needed him so badly, that it hurt, down, deep in her heart, where she knew, she loved him. And now, reading this letter and finding the blissful truth, knowing that he needed her too, and he appreciated her, made her feel wonderful.
She was interrupted from her silent reverie as the battered old door behind creaked open, and upon being caught out at what she was doing, she unceremoniously spun around and came face to face with Harry.
At first he looked frankly puzzled as to why she was sitting silently on his bed, and began to walk slowly towards her, not noticing the piece of parchment she hid secretly behind her back.
"Hey, what's the matter? What are you doing in here?"
He smiled a friendly smile at her, and she felt her knees weaken, but desperately trying to keep her composure, she shot a nervous smile back at him, only aware of the tears threatening to spill abruptly down her rosy cheeks after she had faced him. However he'd seemingly not noticed. When Hermione glanced in the direction he was looking at, she found out why.
He was staring, wonderful bottle-green eyes wide and horrified at the piece of parchment that she held tightly in her palm, his pale face looking scared and embarrassed. Realising what he was looking at, she felt her own chocolaty eyes widen, and immediately, her face blushed a bright crimson. She had really done it.
She watched as his gaze went from the piece of scrap parchment to her, and his face turned from total shock and horror, to sorrowful embarrassment. He held her gaze for a moment longer, locking his beautiful green eyes with her own, before looking down at his shoes, his pale face turning a deep shade of red. She would have preferred it if he'd shouted at her, told her she had no right to go through his things. This sorrow was worse to watch than tears. She'd embarrassed him.
"You weren't meant to read that."
She glanced up at him nervously, her eyes threatening to spill with salt-water tears. He was still looking adamantly at his shoes, his hands stuffed into his baggy black jeans, his face still burning red.
"I'm… I'm sorry, Harry… I shouldn't have gone through your stuff."
He shrugged, which she took as an agreement. She ploughed bravely on.
"I… I.. Think you should know-"
"How much did you read of it?"
She stopped, mid-sentence, startled by his interruption, and looked somatically at him. He was still in the same position as before, shuffling his feet around with his hands stuffed in his pockets, though his face was glancing at her through the curtain of black, messy hair that fell about his eyes. It looked rather cute.
"Um… all of it."
"Even the last bit?"
"Yes."
"The bit about chocolate?"
"Yes."
He sighed wearily, and it made her want to hold him all the more. She wanted to tell him that it was alright, and that she felt the same way, though, she had to know for sure. She had to be thoroughly certain that he felt the same.
"Harry… all that you put in this… do you really mean it?"
He looked up at her questioningly, as if to ask why she was evilly putting him through this. She made no response and so he sighed again despairingly and carried on.
"Yes. Of course I do."
At this, it was all she could do to hide the beaming smile she was actively hiding underneath. However, that wasn't all that she wanted to know.
"And… why is it that you feel that way?"
"Because… um… well… you read it… you should know."
"What do you mean?"
He shifted his feet uncomfortably.
"The end of it… the very end."
Confused, she perused over the letter again, and at the bottom was the very same line that she had pondered over not moments before.
"One day, I'll show her how much I love her."
She looked up at him with wide, happy eyes as he recited the last line with some apprehension, and saw him still shuffling his feet determinedly at the carpet.
Knowing now what she had wanted to all along, Hermione instinctively moved towards Harry, her graceful actions unnoticed by him. She moved silently until she was directly in front, and then, with slightly trembling hands, she brought them up to rest on Harry's burning cheeks, and pulled his lovely face up to her eyelevel, smiling serenely at him.
"I think she already knows…"
And with that she placed her lips over his, something she had wanted to do for three years, something that no amount of longing and anticipation could ever have braced her for. It was only a chaste kiss, a soft touching of lips if anything, but from the moment her lips brushed his, it felt good. She felt amazed that only from one small, shy kiss, he could make her feel this way.
They broke apart reluctantly, and she pulled away from him, leaving Harry with a dazed, almost comical smile upon his face, like he was in sheer bliss. The sight made Hermione giggle slightly, which pulled him back to his senses.
"You know… It might just be me… but you taste of chocolate."
Author's notes: Aw, that's it… I really wish I could have written more, but that seemed like such a good place to end it. Oh well, onto racking my brains for the next fic…
If you really liked this fic, then please review! Or tell someone to read it! Recommend it! Anything! Not to be pushy, but I've never had a fic recommended, and it's become my next portkey ambition to get one recommended. ^_^ Thankies.
Disclaimer: No copyright In fringement (whatever THAT means O.o) is intended… This fic is for entertainment purposes only. I don't get anything out of doing this, except something to read when I'm bored.