She's Hermione Granger

She's Hermione Granger

Disclaimer: Harry Potter is not mine. He is Hermione's. *big grin*

Rating: PG

Summary: Die plot bunny! Harry's POV. Harry's losing his mind because he started noticing bushy-haired bookworm best friends. Is he really losing his mind or finally realizing what we, HHr shippers, have realized a long time ago?

AN: I.Am.Back. :) After my year long break from fanfic writing, I'm here again. My last year at Uni was amazing and distressful. I'm going to be looking back at it with a laugh and a cringe. Haha. Okay, so, I don't really know where this fic came from. I just started typing and ended up with this fic. I hope it's fluffy enough for your liking but not sugary-sweet it makes you puke.

AN: This is totally un-beta'ed. So, all mistakes (believe me, there are many) and/or inconsistencies are mine. I will re-upload a beta'ed version if and when I finally find a beta to work and smoothen out the crinkles with me.

So, shout out to betas out there. :)

~*~*~*~*~

She's Hermione Granger. She is far from my type.

I like slim athletic girls…right?

Not know-it-all bookworms. Not bushy haired women. Not brave, loyal, smart and bossy girls who nags me to death.

Then why do I feel so differently?

Why do I feel confident about my abilities when she says the words `Harry, you can'? Why do I feel lightheaded when she gives me a hug? Why do I feel myself smiling like an idiot whenever she looks approvingly at me? Why do I feel my eyes glaze over when she smiles at me? Why do I feel good when she's around? Why do I feel so loved knowing she's here?

She's…she's Hermione.

I am so confused. This shouldn't be. She's my best friend. She's…in love with Ron. Well, at least she was. They broke up months ago. But that doesn't make feeling this way less confusing.

Why do I want to pummel McLaggen's face for leering at her? Why do I feel so damn…sad and-and frustrated when I see her smiling at that git? Why do I feel so useless just sitting here watching her?

And why do I keep asking myself these questions when I know the answer? She should know the answer.

She's Hermione Granger.

I am so tired. I put my head in my hands. Maybe this is just a phase of post-war trauma or something. Maybe this paranoia will go away after another week has passed.

But I know it wouldn't. I look up at her again a bit relieved to see that she was once again alone. I know that this wouldn't go away. Well, I'm glad it wouldn't. Though knowing this distress me so much, it also brings me peace I didn't know existed.

I chuckle. Peaceful is something I could equate to her. Because she is Hermione Granger.

Someone sits beside me. I look and it's Ginny. I smiled distractedly at her and resumed watching Hermione. She's biting her lip again. I wonder what she finds so interesting in that book. I wonder how that lip tastes like. Oh, boy. Maybe I could read that book so I would have something to discuss when I'm alone with her. Alone with her. Wow, that excites me…and scares me. Wait, most of the time, I am alone with her—we are best friends, after all. And we never run out of anything to discuss, right? Right? I scrutinize the book, turning my head this way and that to see the title. I couldn't see—couldn't care—about the title because I was staring at the book and by association at her lap where the book was perched. I got a bit distracted by that and my gaze traveled from her lap to her hands and arms to…Ahem, so instead I fixed my gaze on her face again.

“You have that Hermione look again.” I heard Ginny mutter from beside me. She must have seen a very bemused expression on my face. “You have that Hermione look again.” She glanced from Hermione to me.

“Hermione look?”

“Yes. That one look you didn't—and still don't—direct towards me or towards anyone else except to Hermione. The Hermione look, because you only look at her like that.”

I gulped. I didn't want to but it's a reflex when you're around a smart-mouthed Ginny Weasley.

To hide my apparent apprehension, I said, “Go bug someone else, Gin.”

Ginny rolled her eyes. “When would you stop being oblivious, Harry?”

“What do you mean?” I asked, feigning innocent curiosity just to irk her.

She sighed. “Look, Harry. You need to act on your feelings. Don't worry about me.” She looked at me straight in the eyes and it creep me out a bit. “This isn't exactly okay for me but, I'll live. Besides, I couldn't do anything about it now, can I?”

I looked at her, my eyebrows shooting up.

“Sure, I wanted to be the heroine but I didn't want to be the villain, which I clearly would be when I decide to act on…this,” she gestured wildly in front of her. She narrowed her eyes at me. “So, you better act on it,” she declared before turning away, probably planning on bugging Ron.

I exhaled. That was…a surprise. Though not unsolicited, that was still a surprise. Of all days, my ex-girlfriend decided to give me her blessing now.

A blessing for what, actually? I looked at her sitting besides Ron and then I looked at Hermione. Blessing to `act on my feelings' perhaps? I sigh. Girls are so complicated.

Ginny got it wrong though, I'm not oblivious. I know exactly what I'm feeling towards my best friend. What confuses me is that it doesn't make sense.

Like I said, she is not my type. But suddenly she is my type and…and more. How can my ideal girlfriend turn from something to another thing in an instant? Surely that isn't normal, is it?

I realize she's looking at me. And I'm looking at her and she smiles. “Are you okay?” she mouths.

I nod. Confused, but okay, I tell myself. She turns back to her book. I observe her.

She's Hermione Granger.

Hermione is conventionally beautiful. And what's more her loyalty, bravery, intelligence, and unique Hermione-ness make her unconventionally beautiful, too. She's simple—plain, in her words—but she exudes more substance than any girl I have ever met. She's not into Quidditch or any sports but holds herself well in battle—brave, determined, driven, vicious even. She nags both Ron and I to death but her insistence to let us live to our potential compelled us to think of our future. Her being emotional and bossy—her imperfections made her real and wonderful and fascinating. Her righteousness kept my feet firmly planted on the ground. Her heart saved me from myself. Her beliefs and faith gave me confidence and courage to keep on fighting, to dream big, to live up to my happiness.

She had a choice, she knows that. She always has a choice: to look away or to stare death in the eye. It is a choice that, without her realizing, affects me greatly because I need her badly. It is a choice synonymous to a sacrifice. And each time she was obligated to choose, she choose to stay. Her constant sacrifice offered me safety and gave me happiness knowing, every time, she was choosing to stay with me.

She's Hermione Granger.

I like her; I care for her; I love her, she's my best friend. Who wouldn't like, care, and love their best friend? But then it's different because she's not just my best friend anymore, is she? She's…she's my soul-mate. I just don't love her anymore; I am in love with her. And I'm in it deeply. I couldn't ignore it even if I wanted to.

Two years ago, I would have preferred a different ideal version of a girlfriend. So, what changed? I now know. Back then I was blinded by hormones. But I guess, it all lead to this. And now, now I realize. Realize what, the truth? I don't know; I just realized. Sure, I'm still as hormonal as any teenage boy but after everything that has happened; I matured enough to know not to take anything for granted anymore. Not to take her for granted anymore.

So, what if she's not the typical girlfriend I used to envision for myself years ago? She's much more. Much more than I wanted from a best friend and much more I could ever want, hope, and expect from anybody. I got more than what I bargained for.

She's Hermione Granger, and I'm in love with her.

“I'm in love with you.”

Her eyes grew wide at that sudden declaration.

Crap. I said that out loud?

“You're what?” She breathed out.

I'm standing in front of her. I must have walked to her when I was having my blessed epiphany. Okay, relax. It's out in the open now. I don't need to prove myself stupid by denying it.

I felt the room crashing down on me. I suddenly realized that everyone inside the Common Room stopped talking and were watching us in rapt attention.

I heard Ginny chuckle. “When I told him to act on his feelings, I didn't actually mean now and in that way.”

Ignoring everything, it was just me and Hermione again. She was standing now, looking at me stunned. I wouldn't blame her.

“You're Hermione Granger. And I'm in love with you.” Even to my stunned ears, that sounded lame.

She deserves more than an outright confession. She deserves fireworks and a romantic dinner or…or a serenade—

“A-are you sure?”

I looked at her uneasy expression. She must have seen the distress play across my face. She thought it was because I'm not sure.

“I have never been surer in my entire life,” I said genuinely. My unconscious mustered up the courage to walk over to her and confess my undying love and now it's time the conscious—and nervous—part of me muster up the courage to live out what my heart wanted.

So, I took her still stunned—but smiling—face and kissed her. I kissed her with all that I had and she kissed back, in equal fervor.

She's Hermione Granger. I'm in love with her and she's in love with me, too, I thought lazily as my lips moved eagerly over hers.

There has never been a more perfect moment in my life.

~*~*~*~*~*~

AN: It might take a while for me to post another story. You see, after my yearlong break to focus on Uni, I kind of lost my muse. So, aside from job-hunting, I am also reading and reading and reading a lot these past month in hopes of getting my muse and inspiration back.

Okay, so how was it, considering it wasn't beta'ed? Oh, and I miss the PK forums! :( And it seems to me, there are less and less PK readers logged on the fanfic section. It's that or there are less and less people leaving reviews. Either way, it makes me sad.

-->