Hermione Granger was always watching Harry Potter. It was a habit she'd developed over their time together. She knew things about him that were unknown to everyone else. For instance, Hermione knew that Harry enjoyed to sit and watch the moon rise at night. He liked to be outside when the sun went down, see the transition to night with his own eyes, feel the air cool as the heat dissipates. She'd seen him standing next to the windows on nights it was raining too bad to go outside, opening the window some to let the air from outside into the room.
She also knew that when Harry was nervous he rubbed his scar. Not the one on his head, but the one on his arm. Running down the length of his right arm was a faded ribbon of scar tissue left behind from a duel gone nearly wrong. The scar ran from the back of his right shoulder and curled around his arm in a spiral toward his wrist where it ended. Whenever Harry was feeling nervous his left hand would come across his body and rub at the scar. Sometimes he rubbed up on his bicep, sometimes on his forearm. Hermione has yet to notice any sort of pattern about placement, but she knows that he is worrying about something if he is rubbing his scar.
When she walks into the study he is standing at the window, staring out into the rain, the window open. She can feel the cold air immediately, a sharp contrast from the warm air of the hallway. She opened her mouth to say something to him when she saw the fingers of his left hand absently moving over his right triceps underneath his shirt. Trying to evaluate his mood without seeing his face, she hesitated for a moment before she moved up behind him, touching his left hand where it was fingering the scar tissue. His fingers grabbed hers through the fabric of his shirt and squeezed quickly before he released her hand and turned to face her.
"Harry..." she started to speak but was silenced by his mouth meeting hers. His hand left his arm to move to hers, his right hand coming up to the back of her neck, his fingers slipping into her hair. She kissed him back immediately, her own hands sliding around his neck. After several moments he pulled back just enough to look into her eyes. His green gaze was serious and she met his eyes with a growing feeling of nervousness. She could see his throat move as he swallowed. As she opened her mouth to speak again he shook his head. His mouth opened and closed again as he searched for words to say.
She stared at him, trying to figure out what was going on, the sound of the rain barely audible over the sound of her heart beating in her ears. The sound of his voice snapped her hearing back to him.
"Hermione," he said again, pausing to swallow. "I want to...would you...could you..." There was a tremor in his voice that she rarely heard. His left hand dropped from her arm to finger the scar tissue on his forearm. She reached down and put her hands over his.
"What is it Harry? What's wrong? You can talk to me..." she asked him quietly. He looked down at their hands and looked back up at her face.
"Marry me."
She couldn't hear the rain over the blood rushing though her head. Harry's hand released his arm to take hers. His eyes were cautious, unsure. She blinked and felt lightheaded. She regained her breath slowly and realized that his fingers were twitching on her arm.
"Harry, yes," she breathed as she stood up on her toes and kissed him. Her arms went up around his neck and his hands pressed into her back, pulling her closer to him. When they separated Harry leaned his forehead against hers, his hands sliding around to her elbows. She smiled as she noted that his fingers on her elbows were steady.
He noticed her smile and responded with one of his own. "What?" he asked slowly.
"You're not rubbing your scar anymore," she responded. His hand moved automatically to the lightning scar on his head.
"I haven't been touching my scar...it doesn't hurt." She just smiled to herself and shook her head.
"Never mind...its not important right now," she breathed right before he kissed her again.