Welcome to Gaia! :: View User's Journal | Gaia Journals

OK well i have a friend who wrote this amazing fanfic and i thought people would love it. So either i will post a new chapet every week or i will post one when ever i get 2. So people ahev an incentive to donate to me I will se how this goes. byt here's a free chapter.

Many boy's Harry's age lay in their beds and fantasize about new items they would like to own, or about “Susie” who sits three seats in front on them, with golden blond hair, a sweet smile that makes your knees wobble and piercing eyes that makes your heart want to hammer its way out of your chest. When Harry lay in bed he didn't fantasize about new racing brooms that have just hit the market, or fancy magical items and he didn't fantasize about a “Susie” with blond hair and blue eyes. He did however, fantasize about being just a regular 17 year old wizard attending Hogwarts, without having people stare at his lightning shaped scar and wonder if he would escape You-Know-Who's grasp yet another year. Although Harry didn't fantasize about a “Susie”, he did fantasize about one of his best friends, a girl friend. She had bushy brown hair, brown eyes, she slumped over when she walked due to the weight of books in her arms and she was known as `Hogwarts walking encyclopedia'. Of course, Harry Potter didn't see Hermione Granger that way. To him, she had spicy, cinnamon, curly brown hair, big hazel brown eyes, a grin that could melt his frostiest mood, a lovely figure with curves in all the right places and a talent for magic. She didn't know how he felt about her all these years, but he was quite sure that she didn't feel the same way for him.

“Harry, are you gonna finish that mate?” Ron asked pointing at Harry's plate where a waffle sat covered in a variety of fruit and the whipping cream slowly melting off one of the sides.

Harry snapped back to reality. “Huh?”

“Are you going to eat your waffle or could I have it?” Ron asked again while Hermione peered over a large Charms book, rolled her eyes and lightly shaking her head.

“Ron, just let Harry eat his breakfast.” She stated.

“No, its okay Hermione, Ron can have it. I'm not hungry.”

Ron grinned and rubbed his hands together with delight as Harry handed over his plate. Hermione raised an eyebrow at Harry, but he just gathered his books and began to walk away from the table.

He hadn't been himself lately, his mind was constantly on the prophecy. Harry knew that the day he would be facing Volemort was drawing nearer. The only wizarding school that hadn't been attacked was Hogwarts, and it was bound to happen sometime this year, unless… unless he, Harry defeated Voldemort himself.

Harry reached the boys dormitory and threw himself on his bed. Hedwig sat perched on the back of a chair and hooted with delight at the sight of Harry. She flew over to the bed. Harry removed the newspaper from her leg and stroked her wings. She gave him an affectionate n** and flew back to her spot on the chair.

Harry only scanned the front cover of the Daily Prophet to see if anyone he knew had died that day, there was usually at least one or two people a week which names he recognized and it still pained him as much as Voldemort's first attacks.

Four people had died from a Death Eater attack, no one he knew or heard of. He threw the newspaper at the windowsill. Hedwig screeched in anger and flew out the window. He was tired of waiting to see who would die next, sick to the stomach when he recalled that Voldemort wasn't interested in any of these innocent people, he just wanted to kill Harry. He ran a hand through his black strands of hair and his eyes began to water at the thought of his parent's death, when Sirius had died, how he had lost Hagrid, Professor McGonagall and various acquaintances.

“Harry, can I come in?” Hermione's voice echoed through the room.

Harry turned his back towards Hermione and wiped the tears that formed in his eyes.

“Yeah.” He mumbled, attempting to force the lump in his throat to disappear.

He could hear the tapping of her shoes draw nearer and he felt the bed move as she lay down beside him. She stroked his back with her fingertips in a reassuring manner and allowed him silence until he felt ready to speak.

“Sorry for walking away like that Hermione.” He began.

“Shh, its okay Harry… just relax.”

Her touch was warm and comforting. He wanted to turn around and hold her in his arms, but she was his friend, his best friend; he sighed.

“Is there anything you want to talk about?” She asked. Her breath raised the hairs on the back of Harry's neck and sent tingling chills down his spine.

“No.” He lied. He had so much he wanted to tell her, how she made him feel, how he wanted them to be together romantically, about the prophecy and about his fears for her life and safety. He just couldn't put such burdens on her tired, innocent shoulders. She had faced pain last year also with Hagrid and Professor McGonagall's death. He couldn't imagine and didn't want to imagine, the fear in her eyes if he told her that he has to face Voldemort and either defeat him or die trying.

“I know your not being honest with me Harry.” He couldn't read what she was feeling. The tone of her voice was without emotion, almost as if she had been expecting him to say no to her, but also slightly disappointed that he didn't tell her the truth.

“Sorry. I don't want you to worry.”

“I already do.” Harry thought he heard her choke back tears.

“Well don't.” He said gently turning around to face her and cupping her cheeks in his hands. “Everything is going to be fine Hermione, you'll be safe… I promise.” He said truthfully.

Insuring that Hermione was safe, alive and unharmed was a promise Harry was determined to keep forever. He had thought about it long and hard one summer night after their fifth year. He pictured Hermione laying on the cold floor at the Ministry, with pale skin and a deathly presence hanging over her still body and then, that day, he knew that he would give his life to save her.

Hermione didn't know that she was having Harry's watchful eye constantly over her; it was almost obsessive. He spent his summer before their sixth year, under his invisibility cloak, protecting Hermione's home whenever he was able to escape from the Dursley's. Moody (who's magical eye could see through invisibility cloaks) later informed Harry that Hermione was well protected during her summer by the Order. They asked Harry not to say anything to Hermione, and he agreed as long as they kept him informed of anything unusual.

“How could I not Harry? … I,” Her eyes looked away from Harry. “Your one of my best friends Harry, I worry about people who are important to me.”

That happened often. Hermione was hiding something from him also. She would start a sentence, and then say something else instead. He wondered what was going through her head and why she felt like she couldn't trust him with something that seemed to bother her.

“What were you going to say Hermione?” He questioned lifting her chin to look in her eyes.

“Its not important.”

“Anything you have to say is important.”

She paused for a moment, biting her lower lip. She was definitely weighing whether she should tell him or not.

“I can't… not right now.”

He wanted to know, but he knew it wasn't fair to try and make her tell him. He wasn't telling her his secrets, so there wasn't a reason she should have to tell him what she was going through either.

“Okay. But if you need help with anything Hermione, I'm here.”

She smiled at him affectionately. “Likewise.”

Harry grinned back.

Green eyes met with brown and they searched each other's faces, Hermione's lips gently parted as she let out a breath she wasn't aware she was holding,

A stack of books hit the ground.

“Uhh, err, sorry guys I didn't, I just, s-sorry, I didn't mean to interrupt something important… I'll just go.” Ron quickly picked up the textbooks he had dropped and hurried out of the boy's dormitory.

“No Ron, come back… we were just… we were talking!” Hermione called after him.

Harry shook his head and collided his hand with his forehead.

“I better go and talk to him.” He said getting off the bed.

“Harry, I have to go to my room to get my books for Transfiguration, can I meet you near the staircase?” She asked blushing.

“Yeah sure.”

Hermione watched Harry slump out of the boy's dormitory to find Ron. He didn't look well. Harry used to carry himself with pride and bravery, he had sparks of determination in his emerald green eyes and he never used to look at her like he does now. She couldn't explain the emotion she saw in Harry's eyes when he studied her, while she sat before the blazing fire in the Gryfindor Common Room in her favorite chair, he didn't know that Hermione just couldn't focus on her studying on nights like those. She would take a heavy book out of her bag with every intention of reading it, make herself comfortable in her favorite, warm chair before the dancing flames and then her eyes would peer over the book and look sideways through her bushy hair to stare at Harry. She was grateful that her hair kept her secret well hidden and she made sure to flip the page of her book frequently to give Harry the illusion that she was indeed reading. He would usually just sit there, with what seemed like a look of longing in his eyes. Maybe he wasn't really looking at her like she thought, maybe he was just thinking about the day's events, or about past experiences, or maybe even what the future might hold for him. Yes, that was it, why would Harry look at her in a longing manner anyway? She was just being silly and hoped for something that wasn't even there.

Hermione reached her room and went to the bookshelf where she had organized some of her books.

At first, Hermione enjoyed having a room all to herself where she would finally have complete peace, but when she sat down to do her studying or her homework, she couldn't help but feel like something was missing. Ron wasn't there to pester her about answers to questions and Harry wasn't there to pretend like Ron was the one who needed help, when he also hoped for some advice about their major essays. After a couple days of attempting to do her work in the monotonous silence, she gave up and asked Harry and Ron to come to her room so they could do homework together.

Hermione packed her Transfiguration material in her bag and placed the Charms book she was reading that morning, back on the small bookshelf. She slung her bag over one shoulder and paused briefly in the mirror to try and get her bushy tangle, somewhat under control. When she failed she shook her head and left for the staircase to meet with Harry, who would hopefully, be accompanied by Ron.

Harry found Ron near the portrait of the Fat Lady.

“Harry, listen,”

“Ron.”

“I didn't know,”

“Ron.”

“I'm sor,”

“RON!”

“What?” Ron asked with a puzzled look on his face.

“Nothing happened.”

“Oh.”

“You mean you didn't k, ki… didn't kiss Hermione?”

“No.”

“Oh.” Ron paused for a moment to think and shifted the weight from his left foot to his right. “Was it because of me?”

Harry's cheeks felt hot and he was sure they flushed a light pink color.

“Me and… me and Hermione are just friend's Ron.”

“Don't give me that Harry, I know exactly how you feel about Hermione.”

“Even if I did, she wouldn't feel the same way about me.” It felt awkward telling this to Ron.

“ She does.” Ron said looking at his feet.

“How do you know?”

“I just do, take my word for it.”

Harry saw Luna approaching the two of them with her finger to her lips and her big eyes were wide as she crept up behind Ron. She wrapped her fingers in front of Ron's eyes and grinned madly with delight.

“Harry, who is that?”

Luna shook her head at Harry and he read her lips as she formed a “No.” with her lips. Harry nodded and left the two of them alone, he didn't want to make Ron feel uncomfortable and he didn't want to keep Hermione waiting any longer.

Hermione waited impatiently for Harry and Ron to arrive. What a bazaar day. Did she and Harry almost kiss? Of course not, what was she thinking? She was like a sister to Harry; yes she was quite sure that he viewed her as a younger sister. Harry was very protective over her; he was always shooting glares at boys who would talk to her. She thought she saw jealousy in his eyes. No, no, she was wrong, Harry couldn't be jealous, why would Harry be jealous? He was her best friend.

Boyfriend, No, no, boy friend… boy with a big space in the middle and friend, yes that's right, much better… what's wrong with me?

Her thoughts were interrupted as she spotted Harry among the crowd of students. He wasn't with Ron, but he had a slight smile on his face, which had to mean that things between them were okay, but Ron had something else to do before classes started.

That's odd, Ron had never declined an offer to meet before classes in previous years.

She waved at Harry and he shot her back a lopsided grin.

“I assume everything is okay again?” She asked as he took her books and they both slowly began to ascend the stairs.

“ Uhh, Yes.” He answered nervously.

“What's keeping Ron from walking to class with us?”

“Do I even have to say it?” He asked in a somber tone.

“Luna?”

“Yeah.”

“Is there something wrong with that?” She stopped walking and took Harry by the arm so that he too would stop and look at her.

“No… maybe… I don't know.” Harry frowned.

“I know what's wrong… you feel like your loosing your best friend because he's spending all his time with Luna Lovegood, who, he is obviously very fond of.”

Harry didn't know how she did it. She almost always knew what was on his mind or what was bothering him; it was like he, Harry was a giant puzzle and Hermione was the last puzzle piece, which made him complete. She was like a warm, woolly glove for his bare hand, on a frosty winter day. He wished he could tell her what she meant to him, but he was sure that if he said exactly how he felt about her, it wouldn't sound very romantic to tell the girl you love, that she's like a winter glove.

“Yes Hermione, that's exactly how I feel.”

“Well don't, Ron's still your best friend, he's just, well, he's,”

“In love?”

Her heart fluttered, she thought she saw a spark in Harry's eyes when he questioned her. No, she was imagining it. It was probably just a light that reflected in his eyes, yes, that's what it must have been.

“Well, yes Harry, I think Luna is very special to Ron. Personally, I'm very happy for them.” She let go of Harry's arm and they began to walk towards class again.

“Really?” He looked at her with disbelief.

“Yes… I know that I haven't been on the best of terms with Luna, but they're happy together, that's all that matters.”

“Maybe your right.”

Hermione grinned.

“When am I not right?” She questioned playfully.

“Oh, I can think of a few instances.” Harry grinned.

“No you can't, you liar.” She laughed.

“Yes I can miss Granger.”

“Prove it.”

“How about the time you were so sure that I was a Prefect too and it turned out that Ron had gotten it, not me.” He grinned with satisfaction.

“Nice try Harry, we both know that Dumbledore gave Ron the Prefect job because he felt that you already had too much on your hands.”

“How did you know that?” He asked astonished.

He had never told Hermione that Dumbledore had only appointed Ron Prefect in their fifth year because he was afraid Harry would have too many responsibilities.

“I have my ways.” She answered with a mischievous grin as they entered the Transfiguration room.