My Quidditch Captain

A/N: Hermione's POV for part, Harry's for the other. Ill probably work this into one of my other stories. Some times it works and others it doesn't. But the quote key (") seems to work fine.

My Quidditch Captain

The game ended. Once again, he had caught the snitch and won again. Once again, all eyes were on him. Once again, he had that look on his face that no one else saw. He hated the attention. All he wanted was to get away.

"If only I could tell him,” she thought to herself.

She was Hermione Granger, alone and confused. He was Harry Potter, famous and strong.

And they would never be together.

She had indeed grown since the first time they had met on the Hogwarts Express. She was no longer a bushy haired bookworm who no one would look at. Now she was a mature young adult who was slightly obsessed with books, which still no one would look at. She wasn't ugly, she reasoned, but she wasn't the glamorous and beautiful type of girl she expected Harry to be interested in. Her hair was just beyond shoulder length, she had the curves in the right places, and her complexion was average and cute at most.

Though she had grown much taller, Harry and Ron both still somehow towered over her. She would never be the one for Harry. And it pained her every time she said it to herself.

She watched him slowly exit the stadium, his numerous fans all smothering him with compliments. She saw the girls crooning over him, all someday wishing they could run their fingers through his messy hair and stare into those deep emerald eyes.

She exited along with the masses. Keeping her head down so that no one saw the tears beginning to well in her eyes, she made her way to her common room. She muttered the password and before the portrait of the fat lady could ask her why she was crying, it swung open to admit her.

She immediately wished she hadn't come.

Harry's numerous fans surrounded him, and food and drinks were being passed around. Why hadn't she thought of this? "Damn," she muttered. Of course there would have been a party. They just won the house cup. No one would turn down a chance to have a party anyway. She seriously considered staying. She dried her eyes and walked over to get a butter beer. Just as she reached for one she heard a great cheer rise. She turned to see Harry sitting with Parvati, then, blushing, she leaned over and kissed his cheek. The crowd laughed and clapped. There wasn't a single unhappy face in the crowd. Not one but hers. She turned and ran, before anyone could ask her anything. The party kept on, Harry being the center. No one even noticed the miserable girl crying rivers run to her sanctuary.

As she made her way to the library, she slowly calmed down.



She was his friend at least. His best friend. That was something. And she would take anything she could get. She would love him always, no matter what. Even if they never would be what she wished for so badly.

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Harry turned to see Parvati blushing.

"Why..." He started.

He stopped as he saw a familiar face in the crowd; her eyes brimmed with tears, turning to run out of the room.

Harry stood and tried to make his way to the portrait hole.

His progress was delayed by the crowd of his fans. It took several minutes for him to get through the ocean of people. He thought of her. He finally broke through and fell through the portrait hole. He only hoped he could find her. She probably went to the Library. She started taking to using it as a fortress of solitude. His thoughts turned to her tears. Why was she crying? Did she think? No, there is no way she thinks that he and Parvati...

His pace broke into a sprint.

"I hope she is alright," he thought to himself. When he finally reached the library, he found her at her usual spot. She hastily wiped at her tears when she saw him. He sat down across from her. "Are you alright?"

He tested the waters.

"Yes. I'm fine."

Uh oh. This is bad. He thought about what he should say. She was reading a book and not paying attention to him. Or at least that's what he would've thought had the book been right side up. "Hermione," Harry began, "You know that me and Parvati aren't..."

"Together?" she finished for him. She looked up at him with hope in her eyes.

"Of course not, she's a nice girl but I just don't feel that way about her," Harry stated flatly. He looked into her eyes and searched. She looked into his and did the same. "Maybe I should tell her,” he thought.

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Hermione stared into his deep green eyes and her mind rushed into bliss. Those eyes were heavenly. They melted her heart so quickly she had trouble believing it. She thought about him and how much he had suffered through his life. She wondered how he had maintained being such a good person after so many terrible things had happened to him. Then she remembered something he had said to her when she had questioned this.

"It's because of you. You and Ron. You two have always been there for me and I don't think I could've made it without you. I could've ended up as evil and hateful as Voldemort if it wasn't for you two keeping me in line."

Her heart had fluttered when she said it was her. She was so sure that he was about to tell her that he loved her when he said it was her. But then he added that it was Ron and that she was the best friend. It had broken her spirit that day.

"Hermione, I..." he started.

She snapped back to reality and realized she had been staring in his eyes for well over a minute.

"Ill see you in the morning," she said hastily, gathering her things and leaving before he could say anything.

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Harry stared in disbelief. He had just been about to tell her about how he loved her and she had left. Just left him there alone. Looks like she doesn't love me. He rose from his chair and thought about all the times he had wanted to tell her. How many times he had wanted to hold her in his arms and tell her that he loved her.

"She'll never love me." He stated, apparently to thin air.

"She never will, or you don't want her to?" a voice in the back of his head argued.

"Sod off, pissweed." He said loudly.

"Well excuse me," a rather angry looking 3rd year scurried off.

Harry laughed to himself. Maybe tomorrow he would tell her. He would have to eventually, before Voldemort killed him and ended his chance to tell her. He kicked a chair and made his way to his dormitory. Hoping to avoid everyone.

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Hermione made her way down the hallway wishing someone would console her. She had been so close to telling him and ruining their friendship. She hoped that someday she could tell him. Someday he would return her feelings. But he never would. She would never be anything to him but a friend. And to her, he would always be Harry. Not the boy-who-lived, but Harry. Her Harry.

Her Quidditch Captain.

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