A/N: Hey ya'll! I haven't been on here in a while so don't judge these poor writing skills! Just a quick fun little one-shot I wrote up on a rainy day! Enjoy and please review!
The library at Hogwarts was crowded. So unusually crowded that it was stressful to those who were there. Especially to a one Hermione Granger. The library was her spot to be, and now that exams were rapidly approaching a sudden increase of students now infested the library. Tables were packed, each student with walls of books stacked in front of them. Only one table was left for people to sit down at, although no one dared to sit there. Every time someone came within two feet of this table, a certain bushy haired Gryffindor would glare at them so fiercely, they would feel too uncomfortable to sit. Most people resided to sitting on the ground, or on top of a stack of books.
Only one very daring, young Gryffindor approached the table with the slightly pissed off bookworm. Hermione glared up, kind of surprised to see her fellow fifth year Gryffindor, Dean Thomas. Hermione had noticed Dean had definitely grown up a lot. Even at the age of just sixteen, Dean was six foot, four inches, which was taller than any other Gryffindor. Skinny but with a muscular build, from Godric knows what, yet Dean still had the gracefulness of a true artist. His face was sculpted, with chiseled features. Almond shaped brown eyes, a long nose, that was slightly crooked, and a slightly lopsided smile, surrounded by full lips. Deep brown skin, with no blemishes, except a small beauty mark on his right temple. Short black hair, that cropped his face, Hermione had to admit he wasn't bad on the eyes.
"Do you mind?" Dean motioned towards the chair next to Hermione. She chewed on the inside of her cheek, while making up her mind. If she allowed Dean to sit down with her, others might take it as an invitation to sit there too, yet Dean was a friend, and wasn't bad company. Glancing around, she shook her head.
"Sure, go ahead," Hermione smiled at Dean, as he took his bag from his shoulder. He sat down, placing his bag in front of him. Dean mumbled thanks, as she unbuckled the flap of his bg. Hermione glanced inside his bag quickly, as he opened it. She decided that Dean had probably forgotten to tie his Monster Book of Monsters together, for that was the only explanation for why his bag was so messy. Dean searched in his bag for several minutes, pulling out several sketchbooks, old papers, book, and broken quills. It was known that Dean was a skilled artist, and Hermione was curious to what Dean drew to fill up, she counted, six sketchbooks.
"Er, Dean, do you mind if I look through your sketches?" Hermione asked, just as Dean found what he was looking for (the potions essay due tomorrow, Hermione noticed).
"Yeah, sure," Dean smiled, feeling accomplished. He stood up to go look for a book to help with his essay. As soon as he was out of sight, Hermione grabbed the closest sketchbook, noting that it was also the smallest. The front cover stated 'Features' with Dean's name underneath. Hermione flipped through it, understanding why it was labeled 'Features'. Inside contained eyes, ears, mouths, noses, eyebrows, different types of facial marks, and each was displaying different emotions or from different angles. It wasn't until Hermione went through the book once more that she noticed the details, and finally that each of the features belonged to one person.
Hermione went through more sketchbooks, each one dedicated to a certain thing. One was for hair, each drawing within was so detailed, it could've been a photograph. Another book was dedicated to body parts, each from different angles, and in different positions. Yet again Hermione noticed that they all belonged to one person. It wasn't until Hermione reached the fourth sketchbook that Dean returned. He placed down the books he had found, and quickly glanced at which sketchbook Hermione was reaching for. On the front cover it just stated 'Her #1' and before Hermione had time to open it, Dean grabbed the book from her hands.
"Hey! I was just about to find out who you've been bloody drawing so much!" Hermione moaned. Dean ignored her complaints, and shoved the rest of sketchbooks in his bag. He placed his bag on the farthest side of him and sat down. Hermione pouted slightly, and glared at Dean as he started writing the rest of his essay. After several minutes of being ignored, Hermione returned to the book she had been reading before Dean joined her. It wasn't until Hermione realized that she had been reading the same line over and over for the past ten minutes, that she knew she had to find out who the girl was.
"Listen Dean, I'll finish the rest of your essay if you show me who the pictures are of," Hermione pleaded. She gave him her best puppy dog eyes, at which he chuckled at,
"No deal, I'm already half way through my conclusion. Nice try though," Dean smiled teasingly at Hermione. She felt her face grow hot, and crossed her arms angrily.
"Oh come on, Thomas. We're friends, and friends show each other what they draw!"
"Okay, Granger, show me what you've been drawing then," Dean raised his eyebrows at her, and shot a smirk in her direction. Hermione opened her mouth with no words coming out, and closed it, before just staring at Dean. "Exactly."
"Give me one good reason why I shouldn't see the girl you've been drawing."
"Give me one good reason why you should see her."
"Because," Hermione started, but didn't finish. She racked her brains for the answer. She honestly didn't know. Why was she so interested in Dean and who he fancies? Sure Dean was intelligent, artistic, kind and shaggable, but was she jealous? And since when was Dean shaggable? Hermione shook her head of those thoughts.
"Exactly," Dean repeated, smirking again. He went back to rereading his potions essay as Hermione asked herself the same question over and over again. Why was she so fucking curious?
"So you fancy this girl, huh?" Hermione asked quietly.
"Yeah, I reckon I do. For a while now, I guess," Dean answered, not looking up from his essay. Hermione bit her lip lightly, her stomach in knots for unknown reasons.
"If I can't see her, can you at least tell me about her?" Dean sighed before putting his essay down on the table. He glanced at Hermione, and he noticed she looked nervous.
"Yeah, fine. Okay, let's see. Well I honestly wouldn't consider her a friend. We've talked, and we have classed together, but we're not too close. She's brilliant though, gorgeous, kind, and she's a lot like me in ways. I call her my masterpiece, because every single fucking sketch I do that involves her is perfect, literally. There's nothing more that I'd like to do then to sketch her nude. It's sort of a fantasy, a dream of mine. She's so incredibly sexy, it's crazy. There is nothing I wouldn't do to her. Unspeakable things.. I think almost every guy would give it to her. I don't know it you'll understand, cause you're a girl, but it's like…crazy. I would give anything to be with her. Do you really wanna see who she is? I'll show you my most recent sketch of her" Dean finished.
Hermione was confused, shocked, jealous. Inside her somewhere, she wished someone would talk about her like that. Half of her wanted to find out so badly who this girl was, but another part was scared. Nervous.
"Sure," Hermione managed. Dean smiled, and grabbed a sketchbook labeled 'Her #2' and found the page at which he had left off on. Dean laid the book out on the table, and Hermione nervously glanced at the picture. In the sketch, a bushy haired witch sat alone at a table, glaring at an approaching student. The picture was of her, in perfect detail. Hermione was Dean's masterpiece. But before she had a chance to say anything, Dean gathered his book and his essay, smiled once more, and left the library.