A/N: Oh no, Winter Break is over!! :[ Well, it was nice while it lasted. Now it's back to school and hello to stress. Lovely. I do have an announcement to make, however, before I go wallow in my self pity. I have a Tumblr account! Don't know what Tumblr is? Yeah, neither do I for the most part. But it's basically a blogging site where I'll be posting fanfiction excerpts-that means chapter previews a good few days before they premiere on the site! Wohoo!! You know you want to check it out. Here is the link: http://xshar.tumblr.com/ And for those who check out my website: Yes, I will still be updating it, but not as frequently as my new Tumblr. So go on and check it out after reading and say hello. I'll meet you there.
Disclaimer: Harry Potter isn't mine, he's Hermione's.
Enjoy!
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First Names, Expensive Gifts, and Unexpected Slips (Happy Birthday to Me)
I rolled over on my side to check the charmed alarm clock I had set next to my bed. In reality, it was a miniature grandfather clock I had found on the mantle, but had since been charmed to act as an alarm after I had grown tired of using my wand to poke me awake. The dull lighting charm I had placed on the face revealed the time to be three in the morning. I groaned and turned on my back, my eyes beginning to adjust to the darkness of my room.
Happy Birthday to me.
Yes, today was September 19. I was now officially eighteen years old. Not that anyone cared, really. I suppose if I had friends, they would wake me up with breakfast in bed or something easily as cheesy. But right now, I would take cheesy over nothing. The only people who even know it's my birthday are my parents and Sue. I knew my mum would bake some sort of pastry attached to a sappy letter that said she and dad both loved me and couldn't believe how old I was. Sue would get me a piece of jewelry that I would wear for the day to clear my conscience, and then promptly throw in my trunk. But I suppose I would take their gifts with a happy heart this year. It was better than when I was back at home and my extended family insisted on coming over and having a dinner party filled with champagne and presents they had picked up a half hour before arriving. But it wasn't all bad. One year, my Aunt Midge had gotten me a book-granted, it was the Kama Sutra and my dad had literally snatched it out of my nine-year-old hands before I could open it. The only reason I knew what it had been was because my mum had taken pity on me a few years after when we had "the talk".
Oh what fond memories I had on this glorious day. It was a wonder I wasn't scarred for life. Thankfully, here at Hogwarts, I had other things to busy myself with. Most years, my birthday had fallen on a school day rather than the weekend, so I commonly forgot that I was a year older. It wasn't until the post came that I remembered. Like so many others, it took me a good month to refer to myself as a year older, since the change is pretty dramatic as you reach the higher levels of maturity. Eighteen is a landmark, pretty much. In the Wizarding World, seventeen is when you are of age, but now I was old enough in the Muggle world as well to be referred to as an adult. Although I did plan to spend the rest of my life in the Wizarding community, I wanted to keep true to Muggle customs as best as I could. When I had kids, I planned to enroll them in primary school and educate them in both Wizard and Muggle traditions.
Look at me, thinking about children. I may be an adult, but I'm not that old. I planned on waiting a while before having kids. That's part of the reason I don't bother with boys. If I did put myself out there, I would ultimately fall fate to the lure of sex and become impregnated. Don't laugh! It would come true, seeing as how I was in despite need of a stress reliever that didn't involve work. Sex, as I have read, makes you feel as if it's the only thing in the world until it's over. Your mind goes blank, your body gets sweaty, and your senses get heightened. It was all very exciting, not to mention incredibly tempting. I may be all books and cleverness, but that doesn't mean I don't have needs. And I don't count those three snogging sessions I had with Victor the height of my sexual awareness.
I sighed and cleared my head. The more I thought about it, the more I considered the option. The last thing I needed was to be thinking about sex on my birthday. It would only get me in a foul mood.
Deciding sleep was no longer an option, I opted to get ready for the day. It was better than laying in bed and feeling sorry for myself, which was ultimately what my line of thought would have lead up to. So, fully awake and adjusted to the darkness, I padded out of my room and down the hall to the bathroom.
As I emerged a good twenty minutes later, I gingerly got dressed and headed down to the common room to get some reading done. I was already fully caught up in all of my classes, but it never hurt to be over prepared. Besides, I needed an excuse to get out of my room and find a distraction before I purchased a copy of Witch Weekly next Hogsmeade trip for the sex advice.
I pulled out a random book from my bag and picked up where I had marked. As I started reading, I realized I had grabbed Pride & Prejudice on accident. I had forgotten I packed that; much less loaded it into my book bag. Shrugging to myself, I continued to read my favorite novel. I might as well take a break from studying-it was my special day, after all. Besides, the unresolved sexual tension of Elizabeth and Darcy would make for a nice break from my nonexistent love life.
I was just getting to the momentous climax when I heard movement behind me. Not wanting another repeat of the last time I ran into Potter in the wee hours of the morning, I quietly asked who was there. I know it's not the smartest way to inquire if he's decent, but it was the first thing that came to mind.
"I'm not naked, if that's what you mean." He answered, his voice laced with cockiness. I could see his smirk, though my back was still turned to him.
"Well it's not my fault I don't want to see you practically naked again so early in the morning."
He snorted. "You didn't seem so opposed to it last time. What was it you said…? Ah, yes. My rippling pectorals were much to your satisfaction."
I growled deeply as I shut my book. Turning around, I saw he was fully dressed (thank Merlin) and was looking at me as though expecting me to erupt like an active volcano. But, unlike him, I was fully abiding by our treaty of sorts and just smiled. "I never said they were or were not to my satisfaction."
"Yes, but your face said it all."
"And what did my face say, exactly?"
His voice became several octaves higher. "Oh Harry, your muscles are so trim. Come over here and let me feel them so I can-"
"I most certainly never said that!" I interrupted, not wanting to know what he thought I was going to do. I mean wasn't going to do.
"Of course you didn't, your face did."
"No normal person can get a reaction that specific from a person's face." I said smartly.
"I'm very intuitive about these things."
"Really?"
"Yes."
"What am I thinking right now then?" I asked simply. "What does my face say?"
He studied me for a moment, inching closer until he was a foot away. I stood my ground, trying my best to keep my facial expression unchanged to give him a fair chance, even though his mere presence so close to me made me feel uncomfortable. Very uncomfortable. It made me so uncomfortable, in fact, that I started trembling a bit. He cocked his head to the side in a way that I knew he was actually trying to read me. Whoa, he was actually for real. Go figure.
He licked his lips and looked into my eyes deeply. "You're scared."
I looked at him oddly. "I am not."
He nodded slowly. "Yes you are."
"A-and what am I scared of?" I didn't mean to stutter. In all honesty, I have no clue what made me do it to begin it.
"I'm not a mind-reader, Hermione." He said matter-of-factly, quickly followed by, "Unless you want me to be."
I ignored his last comment, choosing to focus on the unfamiliar word that just came out of his mouth. "You just called me Hermione."
There was a small pause before he answered. "Yes I did. I think we should be able to call each other by our first names now that we have a peace treaty going."
The statement was almost foreign to me. Me calling Potter by his first name? Why, I hadn't done that in years! Not counting the times I had to be civil to him in public, of course. "Oh, umm… I-I hadn't thought about that."
"No I suppose not." He said with a chuckle. "But the question is will you do it?"
"Call you by your first name?"
He nodded. "Yeah. Call me Harry." He continued to stare at me for a moment before making a weird gesture with his hands. "Well go on."
"Oh." I whispered quietly. "Okay. Umm… H-Harry, what am I scared of?"
"Like you mean it." He said, verbally pushing me to my limits.
I glowered at him. He seemed very adamant about me saying his name for some reason. It was just a name, right? What sort of significance does a name have? Why would he keep pushing me for two syllables? All good questions that needed their answers. But apparently, the only way to find out was to abide by his wishes.
I sucked in a breath. "Harry, what am I scared of?"
He seemed to be satisfied with my second try and answered in a monotone. "Me."
"What?!" I exclaimed. He seemed to be taken aback at my response as he flinched at my change in tone. "Why on Earth would I be scared of you?"
"I dunno, you tell me."
I scoffed and threw my book in my bag before slinging it over my shoulder. Rushing past him, I ignored his persistent calls and made my way out of the common room in a huff. How dare he? As if I could ever be scared of Potter. It was completely ridiculous! The most harmful thing he has ever done was speak. End of story. To even suggest that I would be scared of him in the least was completely outrageous. He obviously needs to work on his face-reading skills if that was his conclusion. Honestly!
In my fit of annoyance and rage, I hadn't been paying attention to where I was going. Apparently my feet had unconsciously led me to the Great Hall. What a convenience. I walked through the open double doors and noticed that there were a few people scattered about already eating. I looked at the clock quickly and saw that I had been reading for a good four and a half hours. No wonder Potter had already been dressed and, more importantly, why I had already reached the climax of my book.
I knew that the post would arrive soon, so I made a point to save some room for the treats I knew would eventually come even though my hungry stomach protested greatly. The house elves have really outdone themselves, I noted resentfully. Even though my S.P.E.W. movement was anything but successful, that didn't mean I changed my views on their rights. Unfortunately for me, their cooking was my only means of getting food (a fact I had learned while going on strike a few years previous) and I didn't want to go on and kill myself. I had too much to work for.
So instead of stuffing my face as I so wanted, I forced myself to grab only a piece of toast and marmalade. It didn't help that the spread was extra flavorful this morning. But no, I had to force myself to eat less. I didn't want my mum's hard work to go to waste. Plus, if I ate a full breakfast plus the pastry, I would most likely vomit all over Sue's lovely gift and she would murder me. No joke. She was so close to carrying out the threat last year that I had to lock myself in a cupboard and wait an hour for her to calm herself. And you think you have problems…
I felt a pair of eyes on me as I took my last bite of toast. Half expecting to find the culprit, I turned and saw Potter quickly avert his eyes back to his breakfast. Smooth. Stare at me for a few seconds and continue on your merry way-it's the most I'll ever allow you.
I was saved from further rambling by the sound of incoming owls with the morning post. I fumbled to clear the rest of my plate and pumpkin juice and looked up at the surplus of owls soaring down towards us. There were quite a lot today, but I didn't mind. Two of those owls were for me and held packages that I would tear open with vigor and devour the contents. Well, one of them.
Right on time, a barn owl swooped down and dropped a package wrapped in blue, shiny paper and not even ten seconds later, while my eyes were focused on the first gift, another wrapped in pink sparkles landed beside it. I could tell which was from whom, so I opened the blue one first, knowing it was from my parents, as they always wrap their presents in blue. That was part of the reason I stopped believing in Santa Claus. Every one of my presents was a different shade and pattern of blue-it didn't take a child prodigy to put the pieces together, never minding the fact that I was quite sharp for my age, if I do say so myself.
Tearing open the wrappings enthusiastically and opening the cardboard box, I felt my stomach lurch. There, in a clear plastic container, was a miniature cake. It was covered in white, buttercream frosting trimmed with green flowers and stars. Tiny sprinkles were surrounding the message Happy Birthday, Hermione, which was written in yellow icing. It looked heavenly and I knew my mother had outdone herself once again. Taking the cake out of the square box, I found a letter at the bottom with my name in neat scrawl. I tore it open just as eagerly as the wrappings and skimmed my mum's birthday wishes. It was longer than the others I had received in past years. I wondered vaguely what she could ramble on about from one and a half pages as I read it:
My Dearest Hermione,
My how you've grown! It seems only yesterday your father and I were taking you home from the hospital. You were such a beautiful baby with your newborn blue eyes and tuft of brown hair. As we watched you grow, and your eye color develop to a gorgeous chocolate brown, we grew so attached that it was very difficult for us to let you go off to Hogwarts. Did I ever tell you that your father almost wouldn't allow you to come back? No, I suppose not. You were too excited to pay attention to anything else, bless your soul. It took some convincing, but I finally got him to allow you to go away, promising that you would be happiest whilst you were there. You would make friends, learn all about this new world we as mere humans could not comprehend, and grow to be a wonderful Witch and person. Though you never mention much of your fellow students in your letters, I trust that since you have no complaints, things can't be horrible in the social department. In fact, the last time I ever recall you mentioning another Wizard was in your first year. I think his name was Harry. Yes, Harry. What ever happened to that boy, hmm?
School business aside, I just want to express how proud your father and I are of you. Eighteen is a huge landmark and you should be very proud of the person you have become. You were always such a kind-hearted girl, and now that you are officially becoming a woman, I trust that you hang onto that trait. Heaven knows in our family, it's hard to come by. As you graduate from Hogwarts and emerge in the Wizarding community looking for a job and beginning your new life, I want you to remember that your father and I will always be here with you every step you take. Should you feel the need to talk to someone, I will always be here. Your father has never been one for extended conversations, the poor old man. He's still convinced you're not graduating until you're thirty. Wait until this June when he realizes out little Hermione is all grown up. I promise you I'll take plenty of photos.
Although this letter is considerably longer than any of the quick "Happy Birthday" ones I have sent you before, I want you to stay with me. I know that as your parents, we haven't been around much the past few years whilst you were home. I don't want you to think that it's because of you. Running a practice is excruciating work and takes a great deal of hours to run properly. I know that it's no excuse to practically abandon you in your adolescence, and you've been a real trooper by not complaining once, but you have a right to be upset. Now that you're leaving and will see us even less, I suppose it's time to properly apologize. We both love you so much, Hermione, and I hope you know that. No matter where you are, no matter what choices you choose to make, we will always support you. Just don't come home after five years of no visits and introduce us to a husband and two toddlers, alright. I don't think my heart could handle it.
I wish you all the love in the world on your special day,
Mum
Her letter left me practically in tears. I wasn't surprised no one had come over to ask what's wrong, seeing as my mum's inaccurate prediction of my social life was now coming into play. Speaking of which, I had the urge to tear up the letter after only reading for thirty seconds. I know that she is uninformed about the incident later in my first year that caused me to stop writing about Potter and his accomplishments. I had only told her the gist of what went down in the girl's bathroom that one Halloween night-how I had been upset and as I came out to go to the feast, I saw a giant troll looking down at me as if I were that night's main dish. And, of course, how two boys came trumpeting in to my rescue and saved my life. She knew nothing about what transpired after the troll fell unconscious to the ground. I couldn't blame her. I didn't want to remember it.
I averted my eyes to Sue's gift and opened it more carefully than the last. I didn't want to damage whatever she chose to purchase for me this year. There was a black velvet box about three inches thick adorned with a single clear jewel clasp in the front. I held it in awe, the softness of the material sinking into my fingertips as I placed it carefully on the hardwood table. It looked like the epitome of luxury the way it was simply there. I know it sounds stupid, but if you had never received a gift of this expense in your life, you would be overwhelmed as well. I leaned in and took a deep intake of breath. Oh Gods, it even smelled expensive. I didn't even want to open it. The fact that what may lay inside would be a million times more shocking was enough to make me feel light-headed. Even if it was jewelry, it was damn expensive jewelry that I planned on treasuring for a long time to come.
I unclasped the jewel latch and had to bite my lip from screaming. It wasn't jewelry at all! It was something far more extravagant, far more amazing, and far more perfect.
It was a stationary kit lined in black silk.
In the middle was a notepad filled with new parchment that looked so delicate, I feared that with one use it would break as if made of tissue. Off to the right lay three freshly sharpened quills in an emerald green shade that struck me as a very appealing color that never really clicked with me until now. Above the quills was a crystal inkpot already filled with dark ebony ink and beside it, four tiny vials of refills. To the far left was a gold seal stamp that, as I picked it up to examine it, was encrusted with a single rose. Magical wax candles were beneath it, one red, one green, and one royal blue. And finally, tucked in the bottom left corner, was a magical eraser, one that could undo the effects of ink spotlessly.
It was the single most amazing gift I had ever received. As I made to shut it from peering eyes, I saw a piece of paper tucked into a seemingly hidden pocket that lined the inner top half. I smiled as I grabbed the note and closed the box. Unfolding the parchment, I recognized Sue's long and regal handwriting.
Hermione,
First off, I wish you a Happy 18th Birthday. The gift was inspired by your summer romance with Joe Bloggs, if you didn't figure that out already. And before you even think of refuting that, please note that any time a male takes the time to write down his feelings for you as you do him constitutes as a romance. But remember; don't do anything I wouldn't do! And try to write more often, please. The shop is a true bore without you to entertain me.
Use it well,
Sue
The shortness was a nice relief, even though her motives were enough to make me blush. I had never really thought about Joe and I's letters as love notes before. We talked about everything, yes, but the only inkling of hidden feelings was the Love at the bottom of the latest letters. Could it be true? Could Joe and I be more than just confidants now? It's silly, really. But somewhere deep in my stomach I felt that it was right. He was sweet, funny, charming, and it would be hard not to fall in love with him.
Wait, fall in love?
Hold on a second, back up, rewind the last few seconds. Could I possibly love Joe Bloggs? I only knew the guy through letters, for Merlin's sake! Can you really fall in love with someone through letters? Especially if you hadn't known what the word "friend" mean a few months ago? Merlin, I had to lie down. Wait, I was already sitting. Damnit, what is Sue doing to me?!
I grabbed the gifts in a flurry and stuffed the letters in my book bag. I walked out of the Great Hall in a rush, ignoring the many eyes I felt on my back. They could think I was crazy, I really couldn't care less. I needed to get these presents to my room before school started so I could focus on my schoolwork for a change. I would have more time to dwell on this later when lessons were over.
~*~
Now in Defense Against the Dark Arts, I was a little more relaxed than I had been a few hours previously. The only thing on my mind was the notes we were copying from the blackboard up front. It was mostly review about defense spells and how if you cast one wandlessly, you must keep your hand parallel to the floor until you want the shield to fall.
"Psst."
"Not now, Potter." I said distractedly, now copying a diagram of proper hand motions compared to non-proper ones.
"It's Harry." He said calmly.
I rolled my eyes. "Okay, Harry. Be quiet so I can finish copying these notes."
He remained silent and I was convinced I had made my point. Thank Merlin this was my last class of the day today. I could curl up with my Charms coursework and forget about him for a few hours.
"Is it really your birthday today?"
I stiffened for a moment and turned slowly to look at him. He was gazing at me with a peculiar look on his face, awaiting my answer. "So what if it is? Why do you care?"
An unreadable look passed over his features. "Oh, well. I just… erm… wanted to wish you a Happy Birthday, then. I guess."
"Oh." I said quietly, feeling very surprised at his motive. "Well thank you, Pot-Harry."
He smiled. "You're welcome."
I held back a smile in return and turned back to my notes. That was odd. He must have noticed me opening my gifts for once. I dunno why he would choose now to bring it up, seeing as it was the end of the day and he had practically seen me every minute of class, including lunch.
It hit me a few second later. This was the only class he could ask. We sat next to each other, far from his groupies eyes. The warmness I felt for him soon melted away as I pressed my quill deeper into my parchment. I knew it had always been like this, but that didn't stop from me getting worked up about it. I felt angry tears well up in my eyes as I tried my best to finish my notes before class ended.
"Hermione are you o-"
The bell rang, interrupting him, as I shoved my supplies quickly into my bag, averting my eyes from his. The last thing I needed was to get into an argument with him about his groupies again. Merlin knows we had gone down that road plenty of times.
I was the first out the door and took that to my advantage as I quickened my route to the Head's dorm. I reached it in no time, only falling down a record three times, and said the password out-of breath. Marie looked at me oddly, but said nothing. I really needed to thank her one day for being the only one at Hogwarts not getting on my nerves.
I stepped up into the portrait hole and crossed the short distance to the stone steps that lead up to my bedroom. As I reached it, I threw my bag on my bed and collapsed onto the comforter beside it. A single tear ran down my cheek and I wiped it away before thinking anything else. I needed to pull myself together. I can't let stuff like this get to me anymore. I need to forget about it and move on. Forget the one moment I thought Potter was being nice to me, only to find out it was a faux pas. Yeah, I could do that. Things would go back to normal and I would go back to hating him without argument.
A pecking on my window startled me from my mental state. I craned my neck to see Hedwig hovering close to the glass and swiftly moved to let her in. I ducked as she flew above me and settled on my favorite chair, dropping something into the cushion. I smiled as I reached into my trunk to fetch her treat. I had asked my mum to pick some up from Diagon Alley a week previous after Hedwig got particularly testy when I gave her some of my cranberry muffin. They were the pumpkin flavor, which I believed were her favorite, seeing as she gobbled them down as if they were the last thing she would ever eat. She didn't disappoint as I fed her the treat and watched her swallow it whole.
I circled the chair and saw two things lying on the seat; a letter and a box. Feeling thoroughly confused, I picked up the letter first and opened it hastily.
Dear Anonymous,
Happy Birthday! I wanted to wait until after lessons to give you your gift to keep up the mystery of our relationship. Watching Hedwig making her way to you in the middle of the Great Hall would be a huge giveaway, and I'm sure you'll agree. But before you read the rest of this letter, I want you to open your gift.
I picked up the simply wrapped present. It was a red box wrapped in white ribbon that was tied in a perfect bow at the top. I pulled a loose stand and watched the ribbon unravel. Taking off the top of the box and moving around the tissue paper I found a long, silk container. I opened it and felt my breath leave me in a rush. It was a red rose crafted out crystal and diamonds-real diamonds, by the look of them. I gently picked it up and let it rest delicately in my hands. The petals were intricately layered in a half-open, half-closed manor and I let my fingers run over them, careful not to smear my fingerprints on the crystal. As I let my skin touch the smooth surface, I felt the petals begin to stir and instantly pulled back as I watched the bud bloom into a full, matured rose. It was a beautiful sight. I saw a single ruby in the middle glisten as I turned it in my hand by the green stem. Four green diamonds shaped like leaves appeared to surround the petals and I felt a wide grin make its way across my face.
I took the time to admire its fairness before setting it back down in the case. I still had the rest of the letter to read, after all.
Now that you've seen your present and most likely fainted, I want the chance to explain myself. I was walking in Diagon Alley this summer and came upon a shop that sold magical crystal figurines. The display caught my eye with all the shiny objects (I'm a sucker for that stuff, but don't tell anyone) and I entered without a notion to purchase anything. But as I came across the crystal rose that is now in your possession, I thought of you. Even though we still have yet to meet, your inner beauty was enough to relate you to a crystal rose. Quite an accomplishment, if you ask me. I don't want you to feel guilty that I spent so much on your gift. It was well worth it. All I ask is that you keep it close to your heart. Because, I confess, you already have a place in mine. I hope that this rose is a constant reminder of how much you mean to me.
Love,
Joe Bloggs
I felt my eyes well up again as I looked back at the gift. What was up with people today and making me cry?
Looking over at the other gifts on my bed, I saw my cake and summoned it with a wave of my wand. I didn't want to go down to supper tonight. And with this homemade gateau, I had no need to. I removed the plastic covering and unlatched the fork from where my mother had taped it on the side. I took one large hunk of cake and tasted the delicious baked yellow batter mixed with buttercream icing. I rolled my head back and moaned, seeing Joe's gift once more in my line of vision. I set my cake down and picked it back up, holding it up the light.
The glow shined through the crystal and diamond molding and in that moment I realized something. And, funnily enough, I had no doubt in my mind to contradict myself.
Yes, you could fall in love with someone through letters.
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