Love Lines

lilymione1203

Rating: PG
Genres: Romance, Humor
Relationships: Harry & Hermione
Book: Harry & Hermione, Books 1 - 4
Published: 22/10/2009
Last Updated: 22/10/2009
Status: completed

ONE-SHOT. Hermione's p.o.v- a rant/fluff piece after Hermione's final divination class. What WAS going through her mind when she stormed out? R&R, if you please!!

Chapters

1. ONE-SHOT

1. ONE-SHOT

A/N: This is Hermione’s pov, takes place during POA but I’m not sure which chapter. They don’t have a ‘Books 1-3’ setting in the descriptions, so that’s why it says 1-4. It does comply with the most part with POA, but you don’t have to remember details to read the fic. This is what Hermione thinks and feels after she storms out of divination, around the Easter holidays, I believe. That’s the only part of the story that’s really canon, I just like writing Hermione rant pieces and I figured she might be a little fired up after that particular sequence :- ) . At any rate, the first half is rant/humor and the second is fluff. I sincerely hope you enjoy and would love to know what you think!!!

LOVE LINES

URGH!!! I could just kill that woman. I’d love to stuff her lungs with a pot full of that ashen tea and watch her choke on it. Sputter her dying words to the class in a dramatic fervor and then flop face down right on the carpet. I’d spit on her shawl.

Maybe that was a bit harsh. Although it is a hideously ugly shawl- one that makes Granny Granger’s look straight out of the pages of Vogue.

But it would be no skin off my nose if she at least got sacked. I can’t wait for that blessed day- I hope I’m around when it happens. In case you’re wondering, I’m currently fuming down the crackled staircase that leads to that ridiculous chamber of made-up magic, or divination. I can’t even say the word anymore without my face taking on an expression of utter distaste.

I’m fourteen years old and I’ve had enough- I think I’m old enough to make my own decisions. Honestly, it’s the most unintelligent class I’ve ever attended. You know how much respect I have for education, but that is nothing more than a lurid joke.

I don’t know why I signed up for it in the first place. I suppose it was a bit stupid of me to register for that many classes. What was I thinking? I guess I was just happy to be alive after a basilisk froze my entire body with its eyes and put me in the hospital wing for Merlin knows how long. I was so thrilled at the opportunity to make up for what I had missed I overlooked some of the prerequisites.

And top of the list for divination is ‘must not have a brain.’

For some reason I also signed up for muggle studies? Why I did this I’ve no idea. I was raised as a muggle, why would I need to re-learn how to be one? In all honesty I could teach the class. The real professor’s on maternity leave and this one is a pureblood. I swear if he says ‘fumputer’ one more time I’m going to hit him. Square in the jaw. It doesn’t even have an ‘f’ in it- where are you getting that from!?

This place is going to pieces. Merlin, I’m going to pieces. Dementors guarding every door and me running around with this bloody timeturner trying not to run into myself every other day. Its not like anyone else has this problem. I can’t be like, ‘Hey, Lavender, I nearly bumped into myself in the corridor the other day when I was on the way to ancient ruins- that ever happen to you?’

Actually, normal conversation isn’t possible with Lavender, either. Or Parvati, for that matter. My IQ is far too high to enjoy any form of vocal exchange, and I haven’t squealed or giggled like that since I was four. Maybe younger than that.

One time she asked me if unicorns had periods. What kind of a question is that?? Save that for Hagrid, I’d simply love to hear his response. And Parvati’s not much better. Always brushing her plait of dark silken scarlet, tresses shining in the candlelight as they nearly drape the floor. Sickening.

My hair is a beast yet to be tamed. Fuzzy and brown, a bushy mane that merely flops against my shoulders, and the only way I’d get it to shine is if I set fire to it. Which, some days, I have half a mind to do.

At any rate, Parvati and Lavender are quite the pair. Crushing on nearly every bloke in the castle and being good enough for absolutely none of them. Maybe Crabbe and Goyle, but I think they’d snuff themselves after fifteen minutes of conversation.

You know, I kind of like that idea now that I think about it. Parvati and Crabbe, and Lavender and Goyle. Or the other way around, it doesn’t really matter. It’s kind of…cute. In a creepy way. What am I saying, why am I thinking about this? Lord, I’ve had a tough day- don’t judge me.

It all started when I woke up this morning, to the wonderful aroma of nail polish, of course, and my brain felt like it was swimming in pancake syrup. I’ve been getting maybe two hours of sleep a night- maybe- but the weird thing is Parvati and Lavender get even less.

Not because they’re studying- HA- but because they just won’t shut up. I’ve never heard them actually end a conversation. I think they continually drone about rainbows and sunshine until their bodies shut down. I fall asleep each night to their shrieking voices, only to wake up each morning to the same. When do you people sleep!?

Last year I got tired of their never-ending sleepovers and tried to cause drama. I know it’s mean, but my sanity was on the line. I cut out a picture of Neville and glued hearts on it, placing it under Parvati’s pillow. Lavender found it and simply had a field day- they didn’t talk for a month. The silence ended, however, when Lavender attempted to accept Neville and ask him out for Parvati- but mass confusion broke out and they haven’t had a row since.

I sort of felt bad for poor Neville, so I did a few of his potions essays. Thirteen, to be exact.

They never found out it was me that put the picture there, but I doubt they even remember the incident. They don’t really retain much- with the exception of who’s been on every cover of Teen Witch since 1987. However, they do seem to recall one bit of information I let slip.

Lavender and Parvati have teased me about Harry since his first Quidditch match. Always calling me his ‘little bookworm’ and such. ‘Who do you have a crush on, Hermione? It wouldn’t happen to be a certain seeker would it?’ And giggles would erupt from under frilly pillows as I stormed out of the room.

That’s the only thing I’ll ever give them credit for, and I would never do it to their faces. One time- ONE- I accidentally confirm their suspicions (not that I’m easy to make hot under the collar…) by saying ‘So, what if I am?’ and blushed deeper than the color of Ron’s hair. The words just tumbled out of my mouth uncontrollably. It was like a train barreling down the tracks, a force that couldn’t be stopped.

Naturally, their eyes widened in delight as mouths spread into wicked grins, identical expressions of pure evil. I buried my face in my hands and fled the scene, losing any ounce of dignity I had managed to retain. Whether Harry knows I like him or not, I’ve yet to figure out. I didn’t even know it ‘til the phrase escaped my lips that horrid day.

But back to today’s events, I really don’t know what came over me. Right now I’m just sitting in this empty corridor, completely void of any inhabitants, with the exception of the occasional ghost. I only have about a billion homework assignments to work on at the moment, but I suppose they won’t rot in my satchel while I calm myself down for a few minutes.

You know, come to think of it, I really have always liked Harry. You know- liked him liked him. He has saved my life on several occasions, and he is rather attractive. I love the way his hair ruffles in the breeze, the way it flops around while he rides his broom- the darkened tresses swept by the wind.

His eyes are the most beautiful things I’ve ever seen. I don’t know if a bloke would ever want anything of theirs to be ‘beautiful,’ but his eyes certainly were. So vibrant and compelling, they draw me in every time I look at them. I could get lost in the glossy green that sparkles in the moonlight. Sigh…

Every time he smiles I want to do the same. It lights up my day to see him happy, especially knowing he came from such a troubled past. He has a dimple on his left cheek, just a tiny one, and my eyes crinkle with glee every time it makes an appearance.

I don’t know how long I sat in that corridor, buttocks planted on the ground with feet sprawled out in front, daydreaming about the boy who captured my heart without either of us knowing it. Did I do this very often? No wonder Parvati and Lavender called me out on it. I can’t believe I didn’t see the signs….

Well, I did just drop divination.

All of a sudden, I felt a figure plop down beside me, startling me out of my trance. I whipped my head to the right to see the very eyes I was envisioning stare right back at me.

“Harry!”

“The one and only.”

I scowled and swat him on the arm, making the dimple appear that I longed to see.

“Shouldn’t you be learning about how we’re all going to die?” I asked in disdain, scrunching my nose in the process.

“Nah, I learned about that last week,” he said, trying to suppress a grin.

“It’s not funny, Harry!”

“Come on, Hermione, you’ve got to look at it with a sense of humor. And we didn’t even learn about that today.”

“Oh?” I said in false interest, flicking my eyes toward the ceiling.

“Nope. I think you should have stayed around for at least one more lesson-“

“Hardly,” I scoffed, fixing my gaze on my shoes.

“Just give me your hand-“

“I’m not going back up there!”

“No,” he said firmly, meeting my gaze, “I’m not taking you anywhere, I just want to see it.”

I eyed him skeptically before handing it over, my fingers trembling as I stretched out my arm. He gently coiled his fingers around my own and turned my palm face up, pressing my fingers together. I watched him as he bit the inside of his lip, flopping his head left and right as he examined my hand.

“Very interesting,” he said quietly, flickering his eyes toward mine.

“What?”

“You have very sweaty palms.”

“Harry!”

“I’m just kidding,” he added with a laugh, almond eyes twinkling with mischief.

“Well, are you going to read my fortune or not? That’s what you did today, isn’t it?” I asked with impatience, still giddy that Harry’s hand was clasped around my own.

“Not exactly,” was all he said, continuing to inspect my quivering fingers, which probably were rather sweaty.

He began lightly tracing the inside of palm, tenderly outlining the creases with the softness of his fingertips. My whole body tingled and butterflies swelled within my stomach, my heart picking up speed with every beat.

“What are you looking for?” I whispered, watching his hands dance across the surface.

“You have very strong love lines,” he said, not really answering my question.

“Is that good?” I asked quietly, watching his face.

“It is for who you love,” Harry said slowly, turning his eyes on to mine as a lock of dark hair fell into his frames.

“Oh…”

We sat in silence for a while, our eyes locked on one another as tension mounted all around us. The corridor filled with an intangible force, driving us together yet keeping us apart.

“I see something else, too,” he said, breaking the silence and glancing back down at my shaking appendage.

“You learned all this in thirty minutes? Are you sure you know what you’re doing? You didn’t even stay ‘til the e-“

“Shh!”

“Sorry!”

“Do you see this line here? It’s monstrous!”

“Thanks, Harry…” my voice dripping in sarcasm.

“No, not like that. Look-“ I leaned my head closer to his, our crowns nearly touching, and bent over my glistening palm- searching for the crease he had indicated, “Do you see that?” he asked, looking me in the eye and pointing between my thumb and first finger.

“Er…”

“It’s an arrow. A really large arrow. And it’s pointing at me.”

My face flushed a deep crimson and I quickly turned away, bushy brown tendrils blocking my view of the fortune teller. I bit my lip and chanced a glance his direction, only to find his eyes boring into my own.

“Do you know what that means?” he asked quietly, not tearing his gaze away from mine.

I shook my head back and forth, indicating that I had no idea- which I didn’t- and felt my heart race inside of me. If my palms weren’t sweating before, they certainly were now. My breathing became erratic and my body trembled, waiting on tenterhooks for an answer.

“It means you love me.”

I shut my eyes and tried to bury my head in my hands, but Harry still had a firm grasp on my upturned palm. I settled for sticking my face in my shoulder, apparently trying to hide my shame, but felt his hand lightly cup my chin, pulling it back towards him.

He stared deeply into my eyes, his face laden with concern, and wiped a single tear from my cheek. I have no idea why I was crying. Was it because he found out my secret? Was it because he was getting ready to humiliate me? Was it because I was over my head in homework and just stormed out of a class? It could have been any of these things or a combination of all three- all I know is that I wish I were more like a unicorn, if you catch my drift.

He smiled at me and the dimple reappeared, crinkling the corners of his eyes, “Look-“ he said as he showed me his palm, a craggly arrow staring back at me, “I’ve got it, too.”

All the air was released from my lungs as my eyes brimmed with tears, not of sadness, but of joy. My frown transformed into a smile and my eyes crinkled too, beaming into the ones that loved me back.

He leaned in to kiss me, our palms finding one another as he played with my hair, stroking the curly chestnut laying upon my shoulder. Sunlight filled the gloomy corridor, radiating from our lips as two fortunes became one. Our love lines intertwined, a true match made in heaven, and I never badmouthed divination again.

‘Til the next day.

A/N: I hope you liked it!!! A Hermione rant/fluff piece. Please let me know what you think, I would love lots of reviews!! ^_^