Beautiful

Default Normal MOM 4 32 2003-07-10T18:13:00Z 2003-07-10T18:55:00Z 2 1337 7623 63 15 9361 9.2720

Disclaimer: Harry Potter and all things related to it belong to JKR. No money being made, no copyright infringement intended… You know the drill.

A/N: Just a little fluffy ficlet inspired by one of my favorite lines in OotP. Dedicated to Romulus Lupin, because his reviews always make my day, and to thephotoman, just because. J

“Harry, can you spare a few minutes to quiz me for the History of Magic test tomorrow?”

“Sure, but I’ve got to go to Quidditch practice in 15 minutes.”

“I know, Harry, that’s fine.” She scooted over a little, making room on the couch for him.

He sat down facing her, taking the sheaf of parchments covered in Hermione’s neat, small handwriting. Their fingers brushed and Hermione jumped a little, snatching her hand back.

“What treaty ended the Goblin Wars of 1792?”

“The Treaty of Sibellius.”

“The name of the first minister of Magic?”

“Aloysius Doran.”

Hermione answered automatically. She knew the material and found herself distracted looking at Harry, something that happened frequently these days.

Vaguely she heard him ask another question. “Well, then, when and where was the First International Wizarding Congress held?”

The firelight was flickering over his face, throwing one side of it in shadow, making his eyes seem even more brilliant than usual. And how was it that she’d never before noticed that pronouncing the letter ‘W’ shaped the lips almost like a kiss?

“Hermione!” She was brought back to attention by Harry’s voice.

“Oh, right. Er, it was the spring of 1837 in Luxembourg.”

Harry put down the sheaf of parchment and grinned at her. “Really, Hermione, you don’t need me to quiz you. You could probably do brilliantly on this test in your sleep.”

She smiled. “Thanks, Harry.”

“No problem. Quidditch practice time now.” And with another grin and a half-wave that made her stomach feel fluttery, Harry left the Common room.

Hermione turned her attention to reviewing her Arithmancy notes, a smile lingering on her face from the thought of Harry.

“Hermione, can I talk to you for a second?” Parvati’s voice was hard as she studied Hermione through narrowed eyes.

Hermione looked up, rather surprised. She and Parvati had never been friends, even after 6 years of sharing a dorm room and she couldn’t even remember the last time Parvati had voluntarily sought a conversation with her.

But she put down her notes and put a friendly smile on, as she said, “Of course, Parvati, what is it?”

Parvati was silent for a moment before saying in a flat, distinctly unfriendly voice, “I want you to stay away from Harry.”

Hermione stiffened, her eyes flashing. “And why should I do that? In case it’s slipped your mind,” her voice was sarcastic to the extreme, “he’s my best friend and has been since first year.”

“I mean what I say, Hermione. Stop trying to flirt with him by asking him to quiz you all the time. I’ve seen the way you look at Harry; I know you like him. I’m telling you this because frankly, I don’t want to see someone like you get hurt. I think Harry likes me and I’d hate for him to be distracted by some other girl. Not that he would ever dream of dating a boring know-it-all who’s not even pretty.” Parvati’s smile was patently false. “I just wouldn’t want you to be hurt.” And with that, she turned and walked away, flipping her long hair over her shoulder in a studiedly graceful move.

Harry got back late from the Quidditch pitch having stayed after to release some of his tension by just flying and then thinking of some strategies for the next match against Hufflepuff.

The common room looked deserted, the fire burning low and Harry turned to head straight up to the shower when he heard a noise, a sort of sniffling.

It sounded like someone crying.

Harry frowned, expecting it to be one of the homesick first years and then stopped short, an odd pain in his chest area at the sight of Hermione curled up in an armchair, tears rolling down her face. “Hermione?”

She looked up at him and he felt his heart clench at the hurt and vulnerability in her eyes. This was Hermione, the girl who always knew the right answer, who knew her abilities and her strengths and who tried to help anyone she could. He didn’t know what or who had made her cry but he did know on some level deep inside him that there was just something incredibly wrong that Hermione, who was so caring, should be so hurt.

Carefully he fit himself beside her in the armchair.

It hadn’t been made for two people but since both Harry and Hermione were slender, they could squeeze in together.

He put his arm around her before turning to her and asking softly, “Why are you crying? What’s wrong, Hermione?”

Hermione sniffed and wiped away the tears on her cheeks before turning her head to face him. “Harry, tell me honestly, am I boring?”

Harry blinked in surprise. “No!” he finally burst out, his voice rising a little. “What on earth gave you that idea? You’re kind and caring and sweet and smart and never boring.”

Hermione smiled a little before asking softly, “Am I ugly?” her voice trembling ever so slightly on the last word.

Harry opened his mouth to say “No” again but then closed it, just studying her, noticing how close he was to her for the first time. How had he never noticed that her eyes, which he had always just thought brown, really had amber flecks around the pupil? Or that her skin was smooth, her nose straight and pretty and her lips perfect and, well, kissable?

He felt a flush creeping up to his cheeks at the thought. This was Hermione, his best friend. He’d never really looked at her as a girl although he’d always thought she was quite pretty. He had a sudden flashback to 5^th year…

“…And it might have been a good idea to mention how ugly you think I am too,” Hermione added as an afterthought.

“But I don’t think you’re ugly.”

Not ugly. Now he looked at her and wondered how he had never seen it before. Hermione wasn’t just pretty, she was beautiful.

“Harry?” Hermione was looking at him curiously, even as her eyes were still shining with tears. Oh God, he really does think I’m ugly and just doesn’t want to say it. She bit her lip to keep from crying more.

He found his voice. “You’re not ugly, Hermione,” he said softly, sincerely. “You’re beautiful.” He shook his head slightly. “I don’t know why I never saw it before, but you are.”

Hermione stared at him, a flush on her cheeks, her lips parted slightly in surprise.

There was a strange roaring in his ears and he somehow forgot everything and everyone and then he was leaning forward and before he had even completely realized what he was doing his lips were on hers.

And it was perfect.

Vaguely Harry was aware of her hands on his shoulders. All he could think was that nothing in his entire life had ever felt so right as this, sitting so close to Hermione, his arms around her, and his lips on hers.

It was a few minutes before they parted and Hermione’s eyes fluttered open, a shaky smile coming to her lips.

Harry just stared at her, his heart pounding in his ears, wondering what on earth had just happened. When Hermione had changed from just being his best friend who needed comforting to a beautiful girl he just had to kiss.

His mouth opened. “I- I think I love you, Hermione.”

He blinked. Had he really just said that? But as he watched Hermione’s eyes widen as she sucked in a breath in surprise, he realized it was true. He hadn’t known it until now but somehow it was true. He did love Hermione.

“I love you too, Harry.”

It was his turn to suck in his breath in surprise. “You do?”

She smiled at him and nodded, as warmth seemed to grow and expand in his chest.

And somewhere in the back of his mind he realized it was the first time he had ever heard the words before. No one had ever told him to his face that they loved him. His parents must have but he had no memory of it. Sirius had loved him, he knew, but had never said it. He knew Mr. and Mrs. Weasley loved him but they had also never said the words. But Hermione had just said them and moreover, he knew she truly meant it. Knew it from the way she cared about everything that happened to him, knew it in how she always tried to comfort him when he was upset, knew it in how she put up with his bad moods, knew it in the way she was always there for him. It was fitting, in some way, that Hermione who had been at his side ever since his first year, through all the adventures, should be the first one to say the words his heart had somehow always been wanting to hear.

He smiled before doing the only thing he could do and kissed her again.

They drew back only slightly when Hermione suddenly smiled against his lips.

He smiled back at her, completely happy that she had stopped crying and was able to smile so sincerely. “What is it?”

“I was just thinking. Remember back in 5^th year when I said you weren’t a bad kisser after you told us about kissing Cho?”

Cho. Of course. He hadn’t thought of her in a while, since she had left Hogwarts but suddenly remembered that night, Cho crying, his first ki- wait, Hermione had given him his first kiss, he remembered, at the end of 4th year- and him wondering aloud to Ron and Hermione if he was a bad kisser. “Of course you’re not,” Hermione had said…

She grinned at him, an almost saucy glint coming into her eyes. “I was right.”

Harry laughed, feeling himself color before he leaned forward and proved her right again and again and again…