I Wanna Be With You

Hermione : I Wanna Be With You

I try but I can't seem to get myself to think of

Anything.

But you...

"This is ridiculous!" Hermione whispered to herself in frustration and anger, alone in the one section of the library she always used for privacy. She had been in there for hours, trying to cram in just a few more information for the upcoming Transfiguration test. However, her thoughts kept on drifting over to something--or rather, someone--as hard as she'd try not to let her mind wander.

"C'mon, concentrate," she muttered to herself, just about ready to bang her head on the table if it'd help her just a tiny bit.

He's a seventh year for goodness sake! How could you, a third year, have any chance with him, what with all the other girls swooning for him too? a voice inside of her piped in. Hermione groaned and rested her chin on her hands, just about ready to give it up. I've got to study. This test won't be easy. Professor McGonagall said so!

She heaved a sigh and looked around upon hearing a something creak. Someone was trying to sneak up on her, but they weren't doing a good job.

"Who's there?" Hermione called out, careful to use a low voice so as not to anger Madam Pince.

There was another creak, as if the intruder had hesitated, thinking about whether or not to proceed. Hermione could just make out their shadow on the wooden floor and didn't recognize it. It didn't have the short and oh-too-familiar look of Harry or the tall and slightly lanky figure of Ron. Instead, the shadow was a bit fit and had the appearance of an older looking person. They wore hooded clothes and some kind of boots. This was all she could see.

"Who's there?" she repeated.

Finally, the person stepped out from behind a large bookshelf.

"Me."

"Oliver? What're you doing here? No one ever goes here," Hermione started, amazed.

"Nice to see you too. And well, you're here," he replied cleverly.

"Yes, but I ask again, what are you doing here?"

"Come to see you, of course. Potter's told me you go here often, and so, I'm here," he said with a shrug. He leaned in close to her, so close their noses were almost touching. "You don't seem too happy to see me, Granger girl!"

Your breath on my face,

Granger girl? Hermione thought, puzzled. He's never called her that before... or spoken to her, for that manner.

"I am!" she replied earnestly. Truly, for you've never approached me before--oh, if you only knew! If only...

"Smile then," Oliver said, straightening up, placing his hands on his hips with a sly grin.

She couldn't. She needed to study, to get more facts and spells into her already tired brain. But for him, she might be able to. Hermione smiled weakly, but he didn't buy it.

"Maybe this'll help," he said cheerfully, and with one quick movement, without warning, he leaned in again and kissed her lightly. He pulled out a chair across from her afterwards and waited for a reaction.

"You said you'd help me smile, but, that just isn't fair!" Hermione said quickly, blushing scarlet.

Your warm, gentle kiss I taste,

I taste the truth; I taste the truth.

Oliver let out a small laugh then looked at her, his head slightly tilted to the side. He couldn't tell if the dim candlelight made him see her in a new light. The light cast on her downward eyes and on her face gave her a sort of enchanted look--like a painting by Da Vinci of a young girl with only golden shades of paint to color her face. It was intriguing and, well, pretty.

Hermione could feel his gaze on her and she was struck with a sudden thought. Was that kiss just to play with her mind and feelings, or something he really wanted to do? Inwardly she hoped he wasn't just toying with her affections that he had no idea about--or did he? She couldn't tell. Well, real kiss or not, she would never forget it. How could she? Oliver was the one guy who held her affections and attention unknowingly. She raised her eyes slowly, but they rested on his hands. He was wringing them repeatedly, as if nervous about something.

We know what I came here for,

"Umm, Hermione," he began uncertainly.

Her eyes finally looked into his and Oliver looked as if he wouldn't be able to continue. He swallowed before speaking again.

"Hermione," he repeated. "I haven't known you long--I barely do. I--I'm lots older than you; well, four years to be exact. But, I somehow... like you... It's crazy. I only know you because of Potter and here I am, thinking about some thirteen year old. Though you're not just any thirteen year old. You're Granger girl--Hermione, I mean."

Had it been possible, she could have melted on the spot. So he wasn't the best speaker and all. It didn't matter to her. He had said what he need to and it just made her heart skip a beat. She had to answer; she had to tell him about how she felt. After all, he fessed up first.

So I won't ask for more...

"Oliver, crazy as this sounds, I like you too. And, I know the age gap, but, I dunno, I just feel the way I do. To me, you're not just that manic Quidditch Captain Harry talks about--you're Oliver Wood," she replied.

He nodded for a moment and grinned again. "You stole my line."

"Did I?" Hermione said, half apologetic and half amused.

"You could get in trouble for that, you know," Oliver mused on.

She smiled again, without strain. He knew how to make her smile and she knew how to make him laugh.

I wanna be with you,
If only for a night,
To be the one who's in your arms to hold you tight,
I wanna be with you,
There's nothing more to say,
There's nothing else I want more than to feel...

This way.
I wanna be with you...

"Well, is that all you wanted to tell me?" Hermione asked curiously.

"You want me to leave, don't you? I can take a hint..." Oliver got up from his chair and pushed it in.

"No! Wait," she said quickly.

"I'm just kidding with you, 'Mione," he said with that sly smile of his. He walked over to her side of the table and peered over her shoulder to see what she had been doing before he had arrived.

"Transfiguration of Body Parts to Another Object," he read aloud. "Yikes."

"It's actually quite interesting!"

"Yeah, it is. Remember, I took this class too, you know."

Right, Hermione thought to herself. You're a seventh year. Unknowingly, she let out a sigh. Oliver's eyes traveled to her face and realized for the first time that she looked exhausted.

"Whoa, you need rest, young lady!" he said, suddenly father-like.

She turned her pretty brown eyes up to him and sent him a look that said, "No need to tell me that twice!"

"C'mon, I'll take you up to the Tower," he offered.

"I can walk."

"I can carry you!" he said, waving outstretched arms at her.

So I'll hold you tonight like I would if you were mine to hold forevermore,

Hermione hesitated then decided that if he wanted to carry her, then that was just fine with her. She got out of her chair, leaving her books behind. She knew they'd still be there by the next day, judging by the fact that no one ever went to that end of the library except her--and now Oliver Wood.

She walked up to the Captain and looked up at him, uncertain of what she was to do, climb up his back or on his arms? Before she could open her mouth to ask him that, eager to see his smile again, he swept her off her feet--literally. In one quick and smooth motion, he had, well, swept her off her feet. Hermione looked down at the ground then up at Oliver, wondering if he would be able to carry her up the stairs and all the way up to Gryffindor Tower. He looked strong... but not that strong.

"Oliver, are you sure you can handle this? Because I can walk..."

"Is that a challenge? I'll show you! You're not that heavy," he said, beaming down at her. Hermione merely laughed then awaited their departure of the dimly lit library.

And I'll savor each touch that I've wanted so much to feel before,

To feel before.

She had been wrong. Oliver was able to cope with carrying her through the halls, though he did so silently, as if talking or laughing would release him of all his energy. Hermione remained quiet too, but only because she was so tired and so amazed that the Oliver Wood was actually carrying her to Gryffindor Tower.

The way he held her felt strange, as he still had his Quidditch gear on from a practice earlier that day. His gloves and leather armor were soft, though they were good protection from those nasty Bludgers on the field.

How beautiful it is...
Just to be like this...

"Whew!" Oliver gasped as he trudged up the second staircase.

"You can put me down if you want," Hermione offered quickly.

"No, no, I'll just drop you off right here," he said casually, shaking his head as he held her over the banister as if he were going to let go and let her fall through the staircases. Hermione clutched his right arm tightly on instinct.

Oliver laughed again and reassured her, "I won't let you fall. Not without me broomstick so I could catch you!"

"I'll walk, really, it's okay," Hermione said.

"Nope, won't take no for an answer! I'm getting you up to that Tower if it's the last thing I do!" he said determinedly, continuing up the stairs, though a bit quicker as if eager to get to that portrait of the Fat Lady.

After several more minutes and one more flight of stairs, they finally reached the Fat Lady and said the password (Flibbertigibbet). Oliver jogged into the Common Room, somewhat joyously.

"Now, where to put you," he said thoughtfully.

Hermione looked at him, considering something. What the heck, go for it, she thought.

Still in his arms, she lifted up her head and kissed him on the cheek. "Thanks so much for this," she said, smiling shyly.

He grinned down at her and said, "No problem... told you I could get you up here! Now... could I ask you something?"

"I definitely owe you."

"Could you make it up to your dorm on your own?"

I wanna be,

I wanna be with you...