Lonely Hearts, Sweethearts

Lonely Hearts, Sweethearts

Hermione looked down in repulsion at the glass that Harry was trying to force into her hands.

"Harry," she said, gritting her teeth in frustration, "I've already told you, I don't want any beer. Besides, none of you should be drinking it, it's illegal, you're underage, and you know what kind of effects it can - "

"Oh, come on Hermione, lighten up!" said Harry, grinning widely and swaying a little. "We're only having a little bit, just to get into the spirit of things. It's a party, have some fun!" With that, he forced the beer into Hermione's hand and staggered away, laughing loudly, to join the crowd around the fireplace.

Hermione let out a sigh of exasperation, and put the beer bottle on a table next to her armchair. The Gryffindor common room was full of laughter, loud chatter and general sounds of merriment and celebration. Gryffindor had won the final Quidditch match of the season against Ravenclaw, and so had won the Quidditch Cup. It had been decided that they would hold an all-night party in honour of the occasion.

The Gryffindor team, consisting of Angelina Johnson, Katie Bell, Alicia Spinnet, Ron and Ginny Weasley, Jack Sloper and Andrew Kirke, were gathered around the fire in a large circle, reliving, with exaggerated theatrics, each second of the match. Harry, Fred and George, who had been banned from playing at the beginning of the season, were all clearly wishing that they had been playing in the match too.

The rest of Gryffindor house were either listening to the team in awe as they described every swerve and dive of the match, or were just enjoying the excuse for a party. Couples lurked here and there in the shadows. A group of 3^rd year boys were having competitions to see who could drink a pint of beer the fastest. Hermione had long given up telling people off for their raucous behaviour - it was a party, after all, and there was no stopping any of them now.

Hermione had refrained from drinking any alcohol. She was sitting alone near the back of the room, away from the crowd. She didn't share the passionate love of Quidditch that many of her housemates did, so the party did not hold much interest for her. She looked around to see if she could talk to anyone about something other than the match. But Neville had already gone to bed; Parvati was snogging Dean in a dark corner; Lavender was snogging Seamus in an armchair; and Harry, Ron and Ginny were all part of the Quidditch discussion group.

Harry was now making a complete fool of himself in the middle of the circle, doing ridiculous and very humorous impressions of Cho storming off the pitch in a rage after the match. Everyone was laughing; Ginny had tears running down her face, she was laughing so hard. The only person not joining in the fun was Ron. Hermione watched him curiously. He had moved out of the circle and was staring into the fire. He didn't look drunk at all; he looked very serious, as though he was pondering something.

Hermione was startled out of her contemplations by a loud, slurred call from Harry and Ginny.

"Hey, 'Ermione! Come over here! Wanna dance?" they yelled, giggling stupidly and clinging on to each other to stay upright. Someone had found a radio, and had tuned it into the Wizarding Wireless Network. Soon most people had started dancing. The music pounded in Hermione's head, and the sight of everyone drinking beer was starting to make her nauseous. She stood up and left the common room quietly.

*

She clambered out of the portrait hole and was about to walk away down the corridor when a stern, reprimanding voice said, "And where do you think you are going?"

Sugar, thought Hermione, cursing herself for forgetting that the Fat Lady would probably not approve of someone sneaking out of Gryffindor Tower at - she checked her watch discreetly - half past 11 at night.

She gave a rather fake jump of surprise and turned around. Doing her best to look confused, she said, "Oh! I'm really sorry, I must have been sleep walking again, I didn't mean to come out of the Tower, honestly, I'll go back to bed now, I'm sorry, I - "

"Sleepwalking, dear?" the Fat Lady interrupted with raised eyebrows. "In your school robes?"

"Well - well yes, I was just - just really tired, I must have fallen asleep with my clothes on..."

The Fat Lady peered at her very disbelievingly, but Hermione could see a small smile playing about her mouth.

"Well Miss Granger, I don't believe you at all." Hermione's heart sank; she was in trouble now, she'd get detention for sure. But the Fat Lady continued. "However, I do believe that you are a sensible girl. So if you won't tell about me letting you off, I won't tell about you sneaking around the school at all hours. Now run along before I change my mind, and don't be too long coming back!"

Hermione couldn't believe her luck. "Thank you so much," she said. The Fat Lady merely smiled benignly. Then Hermione set off down the corridor. There was a trapdoor around the corner that she had read about in Hogwarts: A History. According to the book, it was originally built as an emergency escape in case of an attack on the school. There was one somewhere near the entrance to all four common rooms. This one lead to an opening on the west side of the castle, near the lake. Hermione walked up to the stone gargoyle in the corner of the hallway, and pressed hard on top of its head. The gargoyle sank into the floor, revealing a passageway stretching ahead.

She walked along it cautiously, feeling her way along the walls in the dark. Suddenly, the floor gave way beneath her. Her stomach seemed to fly up inside her as she free-fell down a stone tunnel. Then she was scooped her as the tunnel gently sloped away, and she slid down on her back at an alarming speed. All at once she shot out the end onto cool grass, skidding a few meters before coming to a halt.

She sat there in shock, gasping for breath, her heart pounding. After a moment, she recovered, and she stood and walked down the grassy slope to the edge of the lake. The moonlight shimmered on its surface, making it gleam sliver. The water was very still; everything was peaceful. Hermione took off her shoes and sank her toes into the soft, dry sand by the shore. She breathed in deeply, the crisp night air filling her lungs.

All those people up there, she thought, getting blind drunk; none of them will even remember their merriment in the morning. All that celebrating gone to waste. All Parvati's kisses, all Harry's jokes, all Ginny's admiring gazes; all have been wasted, for they won't recall them. Hermione couldn't stand the sight of her friends under the influence of something so powerful. It angered her that they had allowed themselves to succumb to it; but it also scared her that they could fall victim so easily.

She was scared of what might happen if she herself gave in to the urge to drink. She had heard of people doing all sorts of things when they were drunk, and not remembering a thing the next day. What if I get drunk? she thought anxiously. What sort of secrets might I blurt out to people? Perhaps the fact that, at the age of 15 years, 8 months and 9 days, I have never been kissed. Perhaps the fact that I love drawing. Or perhaps the fact that I have more than just a crush on a certain tall, freckly red-head.....Hermione shuddered at the thought of her most precious secrets being displayed for the world to see. But worse things could happen. Saying things was all well and good; but one could do very regrettable things too....

Hermione lay down on the sand, and gazed up at the stars. It was a beautiful, clear night; the sky was a deep inky blue, and there was the slightest cool whisper of a breeze. She lay there for what seemed like an age, just thinking. Thinking about life and all its trivialities. She thought of her family, her friends, her enemies. She thought about the billions of people in the world whom she would never meet; whose names she would never know, whose faces she would never see, whose voices she would never hear. She thought of all the places she would never go; she thought of all the past she had never seen and the future she would never live to see. She thought about the millions of 'what ifs' in life. What if I were a boy? What if communism ruled in Britain? What if Pangea had never separated? What if I were more like Parvati? What if I fail my O.W.L.s? She usually stopped at this one; it tended to put her off. She thought about anything, whether trivial or of great importance, which took her fancy. Time seemed to melt away; an eternity stretched behind her, forever lay ahead. Here and now ceased to matter; she travelled to other places, other times, and lost herself in the altogether magical world of her imagination.

A sound brought her abruptly to her senses. It took a moment for her to remember where she was and what she was doing there; then she sat up and turned around. To her surprise, she saw the distant figure of Ron coming towards her from the castle. She gasped. How long had she been there? Were they coming to search for her? Had she worried them all? She looked at her watch again. It was only 12 o'clock; she didn't think the party would have ended so soon. Feeling confused and slightly wrong-footed by Ron's appearance, she stood up and went to meet him.

"Sorry Ron, I hope I didn't worry anyone, I just came out for a breath of fresh air, I needed to clear my head, you know, have some thinking time," she said in a rush. Her heart was pounding - why was it pounding? - and her palms were sweaty. Her last comment brought on no response from Ron, so she tried again. "Is the party over already?"

"No, no," he said, with a wry smile on his face, "the party's only just getting started."

He didn't seem to want to say anything more. Hermione was still feeling a little lost. And she was nervous. Very nervous.

"So - um - if you weren't looking for me, I mean - well - what are you doing out here?" she asked hesitantly.

"I s'pose I needed some air too. I'm not into parties, I wasn't really having much fun."

"Oh, right, " said Hermione with relief. "Same here, it wasn't much fun for me either."

They both stood silently for a minute, avoiding each others eyes. Eventually Hermione plucked up enough courage to say, "I'm going to sit down."

She sat down in the sand once more. Ron followed suit, and they sat for a while in silence again.

Hermione couldn't remember ever feeling so awkward or so nervous. Normally they had plenty of things to talk about; it came naturally. Then again, she thought, Harry's usually with us. And we're normally talking about either school work or Umbridge. She chanced a glance at Ron, and decided that now wasn't really an appropriate time to start discussing their latest Transfiguration assignment.

Hermione suddenly realised that she was sitting right next to the boy she had yearned for since she had first met him. It was night; they were sitting on the sand next to a moonlit lake beneath a beautiful sky; and they were completely alone. Together.

She felt her heart rise into her throat; blood rushed to her face. Then, as suddenly as she had blushed, she turned pale. A thought had struck her like lightning. What if he doesn't reciprocate my feelings? She had never really considered Ron's attitude towards her. Did he like her as more than a friend? Or did he think of her as just another mate? Was there anything to suggest that he did like her as she liked him? They had been best friends for 5 years; what had made her think that he would want to make it anything more than just a friendship?

Hermione's nerves now felt as if they were churning up her insides. Before, they had been nerves of excitement; now they were nerves of pure terror. Calm down and get a grip on yourself, she thought, trying to force her heart to stop thumping so loudly. Eventually she calmed down enough to register the fact that the pair of them had been sitting in complete silence for 10 minutes. She decided to break the silence.

"I never really got a chance to say much after the match...congratulations on winning, you played really well."

Hermione was actually lying through her teeth here - she had no idea how Ron had played, because she and Harry had been in the Forbidden Forest at the time, meeting Hagrid's charming half-brother, Grawp. She still hadn't quite gotten over the shock of that little adventure. But from what she had heard, Ron had played brilliantly, a far cry from his usual abysmal form, so she didn't feel too badly.

Ron blushed a little, then ran his fingers through his hair rather self-consciously. Hermione secretly smirked; he was obviously attempting a 'cool' look. "Thanks, Hermione," he said, in a deeper-than-usual voice. Hermione had to bite her lip to stop herself from laughing; he clearly didn't realise how much of a prat he was being. Then they went back to being silent again for a little while.

"Do you want to go back to the party now?" Hermione inquired, looking at her hands. She felt Ron's gaze shift onto her face. She forced herself to look into his eyes.

The thing which had always struck Hermione about Ron's eyes was that they were such a beautiful brown. They were eyes that could be trusted; eyes that were doorways to the sweet, uncomplicated person within. Their richness made Hermione feel as if she was being drawn into the depths of his very soul just by gazing into them. "No," he said softly. "The party can wait." He held her gaze.

Hermione felt her nerves rising once again like a lump in her throat. She looked away, trying desperately to swallow them down. Then she looked back into Ron's warm, soulful eyes, and felt her nerves disappear. Nothing mattered now, except that she keep looking at Ron......

Ron slowly leant towards her, still maintaining her gaze. She leant in too, and closed her eyes....

Their lips connected. Ron's felt warm against hers, and so sweet. They kissed for just a moment, then slowly broke apart. Hermione felt strangely out of time, as if everything was happening in slow motion. Ron looked once more into her eyes; she could sense him searching for her approval. She gave him a slow-blossoming smile, and leant forward. Their mouths touched once more. They kissed over and over again. Hermione poured all of her longing, all of her passion, all the wonderful feelings she had for him, into those kisses. They kissed until their mouths ached; for the second time that night, Hermione felt time melt into nothingness; it was no longer important.

Finally they broke apart. They looked at each other, Hermione drinking in every wonderful feature of Ron's face. "We should stop," said Ron rather huskily.

Hermione was glad that he was the one to suggest it. She wondered whether he had picked up on the inexperience in her kisses. But as she began to worry that he had, Ron introduced a new problem.

"Unless of course - that is - well, er - unless you want - you - want to - er....." stammered Ron, looking flustered and nervous. "I mean, if you do - want - want to - you know.....then I guess....."

"Oh! No, no," said Hermione. She continued in a rush, "No, I didn't want - well, no, I mean, I've never - umm....." She trailed off, realising too late what she had said.

Ron looked at her inquiringly. "Never.....?"

Hermione blushed to the roots of her hair, thanked the Lord it was dark, and said, "Well, you know....I've never....I've never had...."

"Never......done it?" Ron said, clearly very embarrassed; his voice had risen about an octave.

"Err.....yeah....so you....?" Hermione said, desperate to get this horrible conversation over with.

"Well, no....me neither...." he said, looking anywhere but at her face.

There was an intensely awkward pause. Hermione broke the silence once again.

"Maybe we should go back to the party now."

"Yeah, great idea," Ron said, obviously as relieved as Hermione to be off that particular subject.

They both got to their feet. As they did, their hands brushed together. Ron caught Hermione's hand and pulled her inwards, and they were lost in another passionate embrace beneath the stars. Then they strolled back towards the castle, hand in hand. Ron had very sensibly borrowed Harry's Invisibility Cloak down - he, of course, not having read Hogwarts: A History, was unaware of the existence of the secret trapdoor, and had come down the ordinary way.

They flung the Cloak around themselves, Ron ducking to make sure they stayed completely covered. As they approached the enormous oak front doors, Hermione suddenly had another thought.

"Are we planning on telling people about - well - you know....this?" she whispered. She glanced nervously at Ron; she was planning on taking his lead, so she was hoping he had some ideas. He looked thoughtful, almost as if he were frowning. Then a mischievous smile appeared on his face. Puzzled, Hermione asked, "What are you smiling about?"

"Well, I guess it could be kind of fun if we kept it from people. Just for a little while. That is....unless you want to tell people?"

"Oh - no, whatever you want, I don't really mind...." Hermione giggled, thinking of how surprised everyone would be when they found out. It wouldn't hurt to keep it secret for a while. It could even be fun...sneaking around....meeting in secret.....She felt a thrill of excitement and daring run down her spine. She smiled, and Ron smiled, and they entered the front doors.

*

They walked down the corridor towards Gryffindor Tower. They took off the Cloak in front of the Fat Lady's portrait. She didn't look at all surprised to see them together; on the contrary, she smiled indulgently. "Ah, you're back. Well, don't stand around here all night, my dears, give me the password and hurry back to the party!"

Ron and Hermione grinned. Hermione said, "Cupido," and they climbed through the portrait opening.

The noise inside the common room was absolutely deafening. Someone had turned the volume on the radio right up; it felt as though the walls were pulsing with the music. The room was even more crowded than before; by the looks of things, the people who had retired early had been brought down by the sound of the music, and were now joining the party again. Neville was dancing in his pyjamas, and looked slightly tipsy.

Nearly everyone was dancing, in groups or in pairs. The Quidditch group had split up at last. Harry and Ginny were dancing together, both holding each other up so as not to collapse and laughing hysterically. The room was a shambles; empty bottles littered every table, and streamers and popped balloons were all over the floor.

Hermione looked on in amazement and disgust. Then she turned to Ron. They both started laughing as they watched their housemates making complete idiots of themselves. Parvati and Seamus had fallen asleep; Parvati had her head on his knees, and Seamus was sleeping with his mouth wide open, snoring. Lavender and Dean seemed to have had a falling out; they were standing on opposite sides of the room, shooting glowering looks at each other. Hermione groaned inwardly - she knew she would be hearing about whatever Dean had done (or not done) for at least the next week in the dormitory.

Hermione turned her attention back to Ginny and Harry. Ginny's legs seemed to have given way; she was lying on the floor, still laughing. Then, all of a sudden, her eyes closed and she stopped laughing. Hermione thought she might have passed out, and was about to go over to her; but then Ginny opened her eyes and said loudly, "I must have fallen asleep!" She looked seriously up at Harry, who looked back, obviously surprised. Then Harry pulled her to her feet. They leaned towards each other and started kissing drunkenly.

Hermione looked away; she knew for a fact that Ginny had never been kissed either, and she hated to think that neither Ginny nor Harry would remember it tomorrow. Hermione looked at Ron. She saw that his jaw was clenched and his face was rather tight; he was obviously none too pleased with Harry or Ginny.

"I'm going to bed now," Hermione said to Ron, speaking loudly to be heard over the music.

"I think I'll join you," he replied.

Hermione gaped at him. Ron then obviously realised what he had said. He blushed so hard that Hermione could have sworn his hair turned a shade redder too.

"No, no, that's not what I meant at all, I just meant that I want to go to bed as well as you, not go to bed with you, just go up to the dormitories with you, as in walk together, not go to bed together......" He trailed off, clearly in serious internal pain.

Hermione decided to put him out of his misery.

"Really Ron, it's OK, I know what you meant. It just gave me a shock. And it did sound rather funny," she said with a playful smile.

Ron looked slightly outraged. "Why didn't you say so then?!" he exclaimed.

Hermione laughed, and said, "Come on, let's go."

They wended their way through the dancing mob of people. They climbed the staircase, and reached the dark landing. Hermione turned to say goodnight. Before she could say a word, she found herself lost in another blissful kiss.

"Ron," she whispered, "I'm really glad that I'll remember tonight."

Ron looked confused, plainly having no idea what she was talking about. "Goodnight," she said, kissing him quickly on the lips. Then she went off to the right and entered the girls dormitories, leaving Ron looking bemused behind her.

*

Hermione looked around the fifth year dormitory. Everything seemed to have taken on a rosy glow. She had always been glad that they got a larger dormitory than the boys; each girl got a decent part of the room to herself. Her own section was, naturally, perfect. Her bed was beautifully made. Nothing was lying around on the floor, or hanging out of drawers or her wardrobe. On her desk was a neat pile of completed assignments. She had never fully appreciated how truly beautiful the dormitory was; she had never realised how perfect everything could be.

She got into her pyjamas and went into the bathroom. As she was washing her face and brushing her teeth, she stared at her reflection. Does being kissed make you look different? she wondered. Slightly alarmed, she inspected her face. Her eyes were shining; her cheeks were a bit rosier than usual; and she certainly looked very happy. But there was nothing which jumped out at her or stood out that said plainly 'I'VE BEEN KISSED'. She sighed with relief; if Parvati or Lavender could tell, there would be no end of annoying questions and gossip.

She went back to her bed and climbed under the warm blankets. No one else was in the dormitory yet; it was nice and quiet.

She lay in bed, thinking about the events of the night. She could hardly believe that after 5 years of secretly pining for Ron, she had actually kissed him.....it was wonderful. Ron was wonderful; kissing was wonderful; everything about life was wonderful.

She drifted off to sleep, with thoughts of Ron filling her dreams.