Something Infinitely Interesting

Something Infinitely Interesting

There's something about the look in your eyes
Something I noticed when the light was just right
It reminded me twice that I was alive
And it reminded me (that) you're so worth the fight
Incubus, Echo

Hermione Granger has been my best friend since Ron and I saved her from that troll on Halloween during our first year. And to me, she's just Hermione, my best friend, the bookworm, and the smartest witch in our year.

Sure I noticed her during the Yule Ball, how could I not? (Even Malfoy noticed.) The fact that I didn't recognize her at first annoys me a little. I keep reminding myself that Ron was oblivious to Hermione's transformation, but I still feel as if I should've known. Lately though, there's just something infinitely interesting about her. She's not just Hermione anymore. She's so much more than that.

I guess it all started last week when we were studying in the common room...

"Come on, mate. One more game?" Ron started to reset all of the chess pieces on the board.

I shook my head. "Four losses in a row are enough for me, thanks. Besides, I need to go over some Transfiguration notes before the test tomorrow."

"You should study too, Ron," Hermione said, her head still buried in her Ancient Runes book. "Your spell work was no better than Harry's and he's studying."

"Aw, I'll just look at my notes over breakfast tomorrow." Ron waved a pawn in the air. "Are you sure you don't want to play, Harry?"

"Positive," I replied, pulling out my notes and Transfiguration textbook out of my bag.

He sighed. "Well, if you're sure then, I'll just go to bed. Night."

After Ron left, the common room got quiet. It was one of those eerie, un-human silences too. I couldn't stand it, and eventually my eyes just started to wander. And that's when I noticed it. In all of my years at Hogwarts, I just never noticed. I vaguely remember telling her once that she wasn't ugly, and at that moment I knew I really meant it.

She was just curled up in her usual chair by the fireplace, reading. Normal Hermione routine. But there was just something not so normal about it. As the flames flickered, it lit her face, and there was this look her eyes, the one she gets when she's happy or when something catches her attention, but it just seemed different to me.

I'm repeating myself, but I just don't know how else to explain it. Let me say this, though. As different as Hermione may have looked to me, I felt at home. It was... comforting. A feeling I don't get all too often.

That weird feeling struck again the next day after Transfiguration...

"How do you think you did on the test?" she asked us. "I wasn't too sure about my answer on number 14, but..."

Ron rolled his eyes. "Hermione! We've gone through this a hundred times before. After an exam, we talk about everything except the exam."

Hermione made a face at him and turned to me. "What about you Harry? Do you think you made a good grade or not?" She reached for my hand, trying to get my attention.

Did she get it? Yes. Although, the whole handholding thing derailed any and every train of thought I had. Once my brain managed to sort itself out, I answered her question and I gave her hand a quick squeeze. The weird part is, I never realized that I was still holding her hand until we got the Fat Lady's portrait.

Again, it happened a few days later during the Hogsmeade trip...

"The twins asked me and Gin to stop by their store for a minute. But knowing them, it'll be anything but... Why don't you two go on ahead? I'll meet you up at the Three Broomsticks in say, an hour?"

"See you later then, Ron," Hermione called after him. "Come on Harry." She took my hand and pulled me down the High Street. "I want to go see if that new bookstore has that Arithmancy book I've been looking for."

"They don't," I said. "I already checked for you."

She laughed. "You know me too well, Harry. So, where do you want to go?"

"Scrivenshaft's? You said earlier that you wanted a new quill, and I need some myself."

"Again, you know me way too well." Hermione smiled.

So we got quills, candy from Honeydukes, and then we made our way towards the Three Broomsticks. With the exception of when we let go to get our money, we held hands the entire time.

Yeah, I know what you're thinking. Harry Potter, the boy who lived, finds holding hands with his best friend weird? (This is Hermione I'm talking about here.) But best friends don't constantly hold hands and they most certainly don't get an unusual feeling in the pit of their stomachs, now do they?

Now, even months later, the handholding has continued and I keep finding myself stealing quick glances at her when she's not looking. Hermione almost caught me once, but I had to pick up my notes that coincidentally happened to fall on the floor. I've tried to stop myself from doing it, but it's like there's this magnetism between us, and I'm just inexplicably drawn to her.

====================

It's the Easter holidays now, and Ron and Ginny have gone home. (Charlie's had a slight mishap with a Swedish Short-Snout, and he's at the Burrow recovering.) With the exception of Lavender, Neville, and a few others, Hermione and I are the only ones left in Gryffindor Tower.

I've spent most of the week teaching Neville how to fly (which is starting to become a lost cause...), and every night when I go into the common room, Hermione's always there in her usual chair -either reading or talking to Lavender. Tonight though, she was curled up asleep with her new Arithmancy book (Arithmancy and Its Founders) and several loose pieces of parchment lying in her lap.

I grinned. That's my Hermione, I thought. She's had that book for less than 16 hours, and already she's making notes about it. Being extremely careful not to wake her up, I collected the scattered bits of parchment and set them aside on the table. Once piece fell to the floor and I bent down to get it. Instead of her usual neat handwriting, she had scrawled miscellaneous words and crossed out things all over; there were even a few doodles. I came real close to throwing it away, but on closer inspection, I saw that it was just a letter.

Well, to be precise, a letter to me. Making sure she was still sleeping, I sat down and started to read.

Dear Harry,

You're going to think that this is just some thank you note for the book (Which by the way, I love.) But really, it isn't, I just needed you to know something important. I'm writing this letter because I can never summon enough courage to tell you this face to face. I love you, Harry. I love you to the point where it clouds my judgment and interferes with my studies. My feelings for you drive me crazy, because you make it seem like you don't have those same feelings for me. But you do Harry, I know you do. It's in the way you look at me when you think that I don't see you, every time you hold my hand, it's in every single gesture you make. And it just hurts me because you refuse to even acknowledge it. I know that your aunt and uncle showered your cousin with love and drowned you with hate, but if you come to your senses about your feelings for me, you'll get to know what it's like to be truly loved.

The letter ended there, and even if it hadn't, I would've stopped. I had read enough to realize just what had been bothering me lately. All of those weird feelings, the handholding, constantly finding myself watching her, it all made sense now. I now know why Hermione has been so mesmerizing to me lately. Want to know something infinitely interesting?

I love her.

fin