Disclaimer: I do not own Harry Potter and any of the characters mentioned hereafter. They belong to the incredible JK Rowling. I am not making a single cent out of this. I wish I did, and was.
[A/N: Sorry I haven't updated in a while, I was rather busy *blush* But here it is, you guys! Thanks for the awesome words of encouragement! Ya know I love you :)
Just for your reference, what Hermione and Harry think Love is… is kind of how I feel. Call it sappy, stupid, complete waste of time, but what can you do? I'm an absolute hopeless romantic :)]
`Well,' Harry said, looking at his forgotten scrambled eggs. `I guess Love is…'
He took a moment to consider this, not realizing that Hermione was watching him not unlike a woman watching a particularly romantic movie on a Saturday night, cuddled up warmly on her sofa, surrounded by pillows, in winter.
`For me,' he continued. `Love is when you see the person in what they would consider their worst moment, and not once wondering why you like being with them, when there is no need for words to convey what you feel or think, or when words aren't even needed at all. You should know you're in love when your heart screams their name, and it's always painful being apart.' Harry was staring into space as he said these words, and upon realizing he was, he finally looked at Hermione as all awkwardness went away. He said the next few words in a near, but audible, whisper, clearly caught in the moment, in spite of himself, `Love is this… overwhelming feeling to be needed, not wanted, by the person your… your soul calls out to. True love, I'm guessing, is when its call is answered… For me, anyway.'
The easiest way to describe Hermione after Harry had finished was: Hermione was taken aback. A better description would be: Hermione was again, tearful, but they weren't mortified tears, but tears that were the result of her being touched by Harry's words. She seemed glued to the spot, and could barely open her mouth to say a thing, let alone say what she was feeling. This was a rare moment in which a young man actually had an idea of what Love was like, and she knew this. And his words, she thought, his words…
Harry's cheeks turned the lightest shade of red.
`Or, you know, something like that,' he said quickly. `Look, I'm really not good with these things. I mean, I
could have said the stupidest, lamest, most embarrassing thing in the world, just now (`Oh, Harry, how wrong you
are,' thought Hermione.), so, forget I said anything. I don't know what Love is.'
`I think you do,' Hermione protested quietly, having his definition of Love in mind, but Harry heard
her.
`I'm not so sure,' he admitted, standing up and tidying the table, clearly not realizing the meaning of her
protest.
`What do you mean?'
`I mean I've hardly been exposed to, er, Love, what with the Dursleys and Voldemort, and everything,' he
replied simply.
Hermione looked offended, but Harry was busy washing the dishes to see. She remained silent until he had finished.
`I think I'll try and get some sleep. What about you?' said Harry, wiping his hand on a dry cloth.
`Maybe later,' she said.
`Alright, goodnight!'
As Harry turned to leave, Hermione let out her frustration.
`What about Sirius, Harry? The Weasleys? Hagrid, Dumbledore, and Lupin?'
`What about Sirius? What about the Weasleys, Hagrid, Dumbledore and Lupin?' he asked her, a little offended she had
brought up Sirius.
`Don't they love you? Don't I?' Hermione wondered how someone so talented could be so thick.
`I know they do,' reasoned Harry. `I'm sorry I said what I said, then. Better?'
Hermione nodded reluctantly.
`Okay, goodnight,' he said, with a smile.
Harry left the kitchen, and began walking towards the stair, shaking his head. Hermione was always emotional when it
came to him. Probably the result of loving him.
Hang on.Loving him?... in what way?
Harry turned around, and returned to the kitchen, his mind working furiously. He wondered why he cared so much. After all, Hermione could have meant she loved him as a best friend, like she always has, for years and years. So how come she mentioned that she loved him, last?
`Hermione,' Harry called, opening the kitchen door rather forcefully. She looked at him bemusedly. `did you just say you - '
[Yes, yes, I know. I'm cruel. However, had you bothered to check out the Challenges section on the H/Hr forums,
you'd find out this chapter was already posted there ^.^ But at least I've caught up with everything. Time to
write the angsty part, then the ending!.... if I can remember it… no, wait! I can! *blush*
PS: Don't kill me >.< ]
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