Love is... by CandiceMarie

Rating: G
Genres: Angst, Romance
Relationships: Harry & Hermione
Book: Harry & Hermione, Books 1 - 5
Published: 03/12/2004
Last Updated: 09/12/2004
Status: In Progress

My take on answering the wonderful CryHope's H/Hr forums challenge: What's Love? One
question, thousands of answers. Harry finds Hermione at the kitchen of 12G, in the wee hours of the
morning. They eat *breakfast*, talk, and eventually get around to talking about the mystery that is
Love. Not too long. Might get angsty in the end, as the challenge requires. {CHAPTER 2 UP: short,
but sweet (I think, anyway :D ) ]




1. Post One
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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: Okay, as the summary says, this is my reply to the challenge **CryHope** made on the
H/Hr forums. Here are the requirements:

* a question that needed to be asked: "What's love?"
* Kitchen
* a slice of pumpkin pie
* A conversation that answers the question, yet leave more questions.
* angst

Hmmm… I haven't exactly followed requirement no.1, but I'll try to put in the question,
somewhere in the story *blushes* I apologize. The reply was hurried, because it was a great
challenge, and I couldn't wait to write *blush*.]

**What is Love?**

Harry couldn't sleep. It was very early in the morning, and he would be starting his
7th year tomorrow, but he just couldn't drift peacefully to sleep. He had been
trying to for hours.

He rolled over on his bed, and saw Ron snoring happily. Harry knew he was snoring happily
because his mouth was wide open, and strange noises came from it. Ron snores when he's
happy.

Harry couldn't snore even if he wanted to.

He wasn't happy, but he wasn't unhappy, either. Indifferent was the word for it.

Sighing, Harry kicked the quilt off him, and leapt off the bed. If he wasn't going to get
any sleep, he might as well make himself something to eat. For some reason, cereals sounded
good.

He didn't bother to creep quietly to the door, with Ron snoring away in his bed. Closing the
door behind him, Harry saw an almost pitch dark hallway of Number 12 Grimmauld Place. The staircase
was somewhere around here. He groped around for the banister for a while in near darkness. Finding
it, he followed it downstairs, where he felt around for the kitchen door. He found it immediately,
due to the thin slits of light from its sides. Someone was already inside.

Shrugging, he opened the door and entered the kitchen. A person who was wearing a nightgown
jumped in surprised. Her normally bushy hair was even bushier.

`Harry!' she exclaimed. `What are you doing up?'

`Couldn't sleep,' he replied, walking to the table and sitting on it. `What are
*you* doing up, Hermione?'

`Oh, well, I - ' Her stomach grumbled, and she blushed. `I got hungry.'

Harry smiled in spite of himself.

A few silent moments passed by in which Hermione looked in every cupboard for food. Harry just
watched.

`Ugh,' she said, looking at him. `We have to cook something, if we want to eat!'

`Are you hungry enough to cook?' Harry asked her.

`I believe the question he is, are *you* hungry enough to eat what *I* cook?' said
Hermione, smiling.

It was about three in the morning, but Harry still found it in him to roll his eyes and smile
while doing it. Hermione was a brilliant witch, but how she was in the kitchen, Harry didn't
know.

`I'll cook then,' he stated. `I mean, milk and cereals were fine with me, but-'

`Great! I'll just sit here and watch,' said Hermione, sitting on the chair next to
Harry's. He went to the refrigerator and took out a couple of eggs.

`How do you like your eggs?' he asked, turning to her.

***

`Thanks, Harry! It smells great!'

Harry nodded, as he joined Hermione at the table. He had cooked egg for her and himself.

They ate their eggs in silence for a while, until-

`My parents are so strange,' she said suddenly. Harry looked up as a sign that he was
listening. Hermione rarely talks about her parents. `They rarely fight, and when they do, they make
up five minutes later. It's either my mom or my dad that apologizes first. Don't you think
that's strange?'

Mystified, Harry replied, `I dunno. What do you mean?'

`I mean, why fight at all, if they're only going to make up five minutes later?'
explained Hermione. `Shouldn't fights last long? Like maybe hours?'

`I don't know. Maybe your folks just really like each other,' said Harry, shrugging,
hoping it was the end of the conversation. He didn't like topics like this. It made him very
uncomfortable. He knew close to nothing about these kinds of things.

It was a moment before Hermione spoke again.

`Do you think my parents are in love? I mean, do they *look* in love?'

Harry just stared. What on earth was making Hermione ask all these questions he knew he would
never answer properly?

`I obviously can't judge because I'm their daughter,' she continued.

`I… don't know,' he answered. `They're still together, and you said they make up
really quickly after a fight, so I think they are.'

`Do you think *your* parents were-' Before Hermione had finished her question, she
turned white. `I'm so sorry, Harry! That was so tactless of me!'

`It's okay - Hermione, it's okay!' he assured her, as she almost looked tearful. In
fact, Harry was telling the truth. He had always known his parents were in love, and it was only
during his 5th year that he had doubted it. But that was before Sirius and Lupin
promised him that James and Lily were really in love.

Hermione looked very anxious. Harry smiled a bit.

`Yeah, I know they were. You should see how they look at each other in the photos… completely
genuine …' he trailed off.

She smiled warmly at him.

`What do you think falling in love is like? If you don't mind me asking, that is,' she
quickly added.

`I don't know. I hope I get to find out, if Voldemort doesn't finish me off,'said
Harry absentmindedly.

`You think that's funny?' Hermione asked him fiercely.

`You don't seem to think so.'

She stared at him through narrow eyes, but decided not to pursue it.

`I think,' she said finally, `falling in love is like seeing everything for the first time,
and everything looks positively brighter and more colorful. Like waking up one morning, and
immediately wanting to be with the person you are in love with. Being absolutely silly and acting
embarrassingly with them, and not caring. Calling them the corniest pet names, thinking it's
cute. Being addicted to their voice, smell, touch, presence…'

Harry was surveying her the entire time, and her smile seemed to grow dreamier with each word.
Her smile alone wasn't all that bad, he thought, maybe even beautiful. Beautiful? At 3am? In a
nightgown?*Hermione*?

`I think love is beautiful,' she declared, sighing and smiling at the same time. `What about
you?'

`I... I don't know,' said Harry truthfully.

`Aw, come on,' she persuaded. `I'm sure you do, you just don't want to say it out
loud,' she laughed.

`Well,' Harry said, looking at his forgotten scrambled eggs. `I guess Love is…'

***

Wait for the next part, then! :)

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2. Part 2
---------



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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