Title:  Remembrance

Author:  Airiviel
Author E-mail:  airiviel@hotmail.com

Category:  Romance
Keywords:  Hermione, Harry

Spoilers:  all four books

Rating:  PG-13

Summary:  Hermione and Harry.  Can't say much more, or I'll give stuff away.

Disclaimer:  This story is based on characters and situations created and owned by JK Rowling, various publishers including but not limited to Bloomsbury Books, Scholastic Books and Raincoast Books, and Warner Bros., Inc. No money is being made and no copyright or trademark infringement is intended.  Other citations shall be made where necessary.

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            Hermione sat in the library, the table in front of her covered with various reference books.  It was late in the evening, and she was alone.  The door opened, and Hermione looked up from her books and parchment.

            "Harry.  What are you doing here?  I thought you had quidditch practice."

            "I did.  I canceled it."  Harry offered a shrug.

            "You canceled it?  Why?"  Hermione frowned.  That was unusual.

            "It looked like it was going to rain.  So, what are you doing?"

            "Homework, of course.  I'm almost finished with that project that Snape assigned."

            "Almost finished?  It was only assigned today!"  Harry pulled out a chair and sat down next to Hermione.

            She shrugged and dabbed her quill in the bottle of black ink.  "I've got two more centimeters to go."

            Harry grinned.  "Knowing you, you'll be writing much more than just two more centimeters."

            Hermione rolled her eyes in response.  "It's not quantity that's important.  It's quality."

            "Well, since you're almost done, could you help me with the charms homework?"  Harry pulled his books out of his bookbag.

            "I suppose.  What do you need help with?"

            He gave a vague shrug.  "Just the homework."  He slid his chair closer to her.

            "Yes, what part of the homework?" asked Hermione impatiently.

            Another shrug.  Harry flipped the book open.  "What page was it again?"

            "379.  Numbers one through fourteen, and summarize pages 378 and 379.  And don't forget the essay due on Tuesday."  Hermione shuffled her papers together, stuck them in her books and stacked them neatly on the side of the table.

            "Where are the questions?" asked Harry stupidly.

            Hermione looked over his shoulder.  "Harry, you're on the wrong page.  I said 379, not 479."

            "Oh, right," replied Harry sheepishly.  He leaned over the book and read the first question.  " 'What charm was invented by Krysantha Rumson?  Explain what this charm was used for.'  Are we supposed to use our notes for this?"

            "No, it's in this paragraph."  Hermione reached over and pointed to the text with her index finger.

            "Here?"  Harry casually moved his finger to where Hermione was pointing.  His hand gently brushed her finger.

            Hermione shivered slightly at the contact, and nodded.

            "The Amarestus charm?" asked Harry, scanning the paragraph.

            "Yes," replied Hermione.  "Amarestus means love, or adoration, in the old Sprite language."

            "But it was invented after the law was passed that made love potions illegal.  Isn't a love charm the same thing?"

            "But it's not a love charm," Hermione answered.  "It's called Amarestus because it makes someone seem more desirable, or allows them to renew their zest for love, when they have forgotten it.  It is not anything like induced love.  More like a charm that enhances the emotion."

            "Is that what veelas use?" asked Harry in a quiet voice, leaning slightly toward her on his elbow.

            "No, of course not.  Veelas are born with deception in their blood.  No one can possibly feel true love for a veela --"

            She stopped.  She stared straight into Harry's eyes, warm brown locked with sparkling emeralds.  "Harry --" she breathed.

            "Yes?" was the whispered reply.  Then, after a moment, "Why can't anyone feel true love for a veela?"

            "Because veelas do not feel true love themselves," answered Hermione softly, hardly daring to draw breath.

            "I pity them," said Harry, and kissed her.

            She was surprised by the kiss, though she had expected it only a few moments ago.  She found herself leaning into the soft touch, and felt Harry gently caressing her face.  She felt the passion building up, and kissed him harder.  He pulled her closer to him, running his hands through her fine hair.

            Hermione felt the kiss slow down, and heard her ragged breathing that followed the intensity of the contact.  She pulled away for a moment to look into his bottomless eyes.

            "I've always wanted to tell you how beautiful you are.  But I never got the chance."  Harry touched her cheek with the back of his hand.  "I love you more than anything else that's good in this world."

            Hermione smiled.  "I already knew it."

            This time, she kissed him, and melted into it.  She tasted his lips with the tip of her tongue and heard him gasp slightly.  He parted his lips, and she explored his mouth, running her tongue along the inside of his bottom lip.

            The kiss grew intense again, and Harry kissed her back with a passion fierce and strong.  Hermione moaned slightly and cupped the back of his head with her hands.  Hermione was struck by how delicious and beautiful the kiss was.  It was sad.  It was wonderful.  It was perfection.

            She closed her eyes as Harry pulled away.  Very gently, Harry kissed her on the forehead.  She sighed with content.  Hermione opened her eyes and looked up, expecting a pair of green jewels.  But they were gone.  Harry was gone.  She stood up and looked all around the library.  She was alone.

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            Hermione sat up stiffly in her bed.  She was drenched in perspiration, and her nightgown stuck to her skin uncomfortably.  She pulled the covers back and rolled out of bed.  She opened the double doors and stepped out onto the balcony.  She looked up at the black sky, lit by stars that sparkled and shined, much like Harry's green eyes.

            "It was a dream," she murmured to herself, looking down at her hands.  "Only a dream."  She raised her head, and thought she saw a constellation that looked like Harry.  The stars winked at her.  Hermione brushed the hair out of her eyes so she could see clearer, but the constellation had scattered.

            "I love you," she said to the sky.  "I always have and always will."  Her voice trembled.  "I should have told you before you died.  I was a fool.  I thought I was protecting you.  But I wasn't.  In the end, it's all the same.  I love you, do you hear me?"  A tear rolled down her cheek, and splattered on the ring she wore on her left hand.  Harry had given it to her for her birthday just a year ago.  The stone was an emerald.  Like his eyes.  Hermione shuddered and fell to her knees.

            "Harry!" she screamed into the night.  She heard the name echo through the blackness.  There was no one to hear her.  "I love you," she repeated, this time quietly.

            She fell asleep outside, on the balcony.  In the morning, when the sun woke her, she found a single crimson rose placed on her breast.

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Author's Note:  Enjoy my writing?  Check out my group at: groups.yahoo.com/group/AirivielFiction!