The Trouble With Love

Hermoine was staring out into the endless blue sky. She was thinking of many things, her mind busy even though she stood stock-still. Suddenly, she was startled out of her reverie by a sharp rap on the window. She turned her still slightly unfocused eyes to see an unfamiliar owl. Hmmm, she thought, must be a Ministry owl. But what would they want with me?

She quickly opened the window and brought the owl inside.

He was of a beautiful color; he was tawny with dark brown spots and huge golden eyes. Gently, she untied the letter and went to sit on her bed so she could open it. Unfolding it, she began to read.

Dear Hermoine,

I must tell you something. I have been waiting for the opportune moment for some time now, but it has never come. So, I am telling you now.

Hermoine's heart began to race. Quickly, she read on.

I love you, Hermoine Granger.

At this, Hermoine just about fainted. However, in the end, all she did was shriek loudly and fall off her bed, landing on the floor with a loud thump.

She sat this way for several minutes, until her mother opened the door.

"Are you okay? I heard a thump and..."

"I'm fine, Mum. Don't worry."

"Well, okay, if you say so..." and then wandered off.

Hermoine was now recovered enough to read the rest of Ron's letter.

Well, I've got nothing more to say, so I suppose the letter is over now. Ta ta.

Love,
Ron

Oh dear, she thought. Well, I suppose...oh, what am I talking about, I don't have a clue of what to do! Ron isn't bad, oh no, not at all, but Harry...is, well, Harry. He's...different. I don't know how to describe it. Well, I guess I could take a stab at it. He's brave, cute (here she sighed dreamily), kind, always willing to help no matter what the danger to him, and smart, no matter what he may think. And those eyes...

With these thoughts circulating through her mind, she sighed. Compulsively, she grabbed her favorite pillow, the lime green one that was fuzzy. It had always helped her think of what to do. In fact, with its help, she had decided to tell Harry that she liked him. Surely it could help her now...

It was late, almost one o'clock in the morning, and she was still awake. Her pillow, for once, hadn't been very helpful. She frowned at it. "Thanks for nothing," she muttered.

Carefully, she levered herself out of bed, so as not to wake her parents. Tiptoeing to the window, she again stared out, but this time into a dark and clouded sky. About the same state my mind is in, she thought. Dark, unsure of what it's going to do, clouded, in a major state of confusion, yup, that's my mind right about now.

After several minutes of this she began to pace. Unlike Harry, she had no idea what to do. She most certainly wished she did though. Then she stared out again into the black and clouded sky, a single tear sliding down her cheek.