Yawn

Disclaimer: All characters belong to J.K. Rowling et al. Not me. But I sure hope the plot's mine…

H/Hr. Hopefully this is a tad more romantic than my other fic(s). Alright, so it's a bad title. No, really. Once you read this fic, you'll realize it's a bad title. Heck, you'll realize it's a poor excuse for a romance fic, too! Wow. A lose-lose situation! Haha. Anyway, this was inspired by my uncanny ability to yawn when other people yawn (regardless of whether they're in the same room, or in a classroom on the other end of the school…) as well as the sheer number of times I've been called on by friends for "crying" when actually, they were yawn tears. Hmm, I don't want to give anything away, so here we go.

…

Fatigue was seeping its way through every inch of her body. Exhaustion circulated freely through her blood. Her mind was begging for a nap; her body longed for her cozy bed.

Hermione glanced at the time. It was approaching midnight. She had pulled an all-nighter last night, getting no sleep whatsoever. And, despite her brain's frightening resemblance to mush, she was still acutely aware of the fact that she had been awake for FAR too long now. What she craved - no, needed - right now was some shut-eye.

Sleep...

Her weary brain tried to coax her into simply closing her eyes to rest them - just for a bit, while she waited.

However, Hermione wouldn't give in. She was determined to stay awake, at least until Harry had returned to the Gryffindor house from the harsh late-night detention Snape had dished out to him for no apparent reason other than the fact that he was Harry Potter.

Casting her sluggish thoughts to Harry, Hermione found herself wondering why exactly she was waiting up for him. After all, she, of all people, should be sleeping soundly in bed and attempting to catch up on a night's worth of lost sleep.

So, then why am I still up? It's not like I'm looking for a reward from Harry, or anything of the sort...

Well, maybe I'm waiting for him because I fancy him and--

What am I talking about? I can't and don't like Harry in that way...We're just best friends. And that's how it should be forever.

But that doesn't explain why you're still sitting awake here like a fool, waiting for someone who might be so tired or in such a foul post-detention mood that he might not even notice you here...

But, well, I'm his best friend! I should be here for him.

Then where's Harry's other best friend, smartypants? Why is Ron fast asleep in his bed right now?

Well, because he's, well, he's...um...

Ha. Admit it, Hermione. You fancy Harry.

No, I--

Hermione hated these arguments she had with herself regarding matters of the heart. She never won. Pushing this most recently lost debate aside, she decided to channel what little energy she had remaining, into keeping herself awake for Harry's return from detention. I can hang on for a bit, she thought. I'm not that exhausted...

And then it came. Boy, did it come.

It was the yawn of all yawns. The mother of all yawns. The epitome of Yawn.

Now, normally when you yawn, you can't help but feel your eyes water slightly. And that's perfectly normal. But this yawn of Hermione's had been simply massive. It was as though her body was yelling at her for depriving it of two days' sleep, which, in essence, it really was.

Massive. It had been a yawn that shook Hermione to her very core, and the fact that she had tried to keep her mouth closed - out of politeness - the entire time didn't help at all. Because now, her eyes were not only watery, but tears were also collecting in her eyes, and sliding down her cheeks.

And that's when Harry walked into the common room.

"Hermione? What's wrong? Don't cry..." he said desperately, rushing to her side in a heartbeat.

The look of concern on Harry's face as he studied her made Hermione's heart flutter in a way she had never before experienced - this couldn'tve been healthy!

She was transfixed. She momentarily forgot how to speak, how to move, how to breathe. Luckily, she recovered from her trance, just enough to exclaim, "Oh, I'm, no - just - I don't--"

Harry's brows furrowed ever so slightly as his heart sank. Seeing Hermione sad was never easy for him. Because you fancy her! his mind screamed. No, no I don't, I can't, she's only my best friend, Harry answered back silently, wrestling with his emotions. Willing himself to calm down and focus on comforting Hermione, Harry lifted a hand up to brush her tears away.

"I, um, I wasn't crying, Harry," Hermione said softly, her cheeks burning from contact with Harry's fingertips.

Uh oh. Harry dropped his hand back down to his lap, hiding it in his robes as though it was being punished for doing something terribly wrong. "Oh, w-well at least you, um, aren't feeling sad, right?

She shook her head. "No, not at all. Everything's peachy keen." She paused. "My eyes were watery cause I, well, I just yawned the biggest yawn imaginable," Hermione admitted sheepishly, looking up at Harry with an embarrassed grin on her face.

For a few moments, a smile crept on to his face, and an amused look danced in his eyes. But they soon disappeared as his face became more serious. Softly, Harry spoke. "Hermione, you should be in bed. I know you haven't slept at all for two days. You must be beyond exhausted, and I don't want you to fall sick." His worried eyes gazed into hers. "Why are you still up?"

The tough question was finally asked. The same question Hermione and her self had been arguing over not ten minutes ago. Why was she still awake at this hour, sitting in the common room all alone?

The moment of truth had arrived.

"I was waiting up for you," she whispered so very quietly, her hushed voice barely able to carry her words through the dust-cluttered air that separated herself from Harry. She lowered her eyes. The common room had peculiarly become silent the moment she had finished uttering those words. Her heart pounded nervously and Hermione just knew that Harry could hear it.

But Harry was trying desperately to keep his own heart from breaking the sound barrier. His mind was excitedly prancing around in his head. His eyes were making things blurry, then clear, then blurry again, in a celebratory fashion. His heart seemed to be opening and closing its chambers at the rate of exploding firecrackers. His entire body trembled inwardly, jumping for joy.

And when he looked at Hermione, Harry was windswept by his overwhelming affection for her that he could no longer suppress. He sat there and watched her stare at her hands.

When Hermione finally gathered the courage to look at Harry, they stared for only a second before Harry placed a quick but gentle kiss on Hermione. It was a shy kiss, but it encompassed the entirety of Hermione and Harry's intense endearment for one another.

After pulling away, they looked at each other and simply smiled. Out of sheer happiness. For Harry was hers, and Hermione was his. What more could they ask for?

Hermione's yawn finally broke the mood. Laughing, Harry said, "You need sleep right now. C'mere..." He motioned for her to lay her head on his lap.

She willingly complied. Lying on the couch and resting her head in his lap, Hermione snuggled in close as Harry put an arm around her and took one of her hands. She sighed happily and closed her eyes; a smile played on her lips that she thought would remain there forever.

Harry followed suit and shut his eyes. He gently played with Hermione's hair, lacing the waves and curls through his fingers absentmindedly. "Hermione?" he whispered.

"Hmm?"

"Thanks for waiting up."

"Hmm..." Hermione lazily kissed Harry's hand which was entwined in her own. He smiled; he could tell she was drop-dead tired and half-asleep already. So, as Hermione drifted off to a deep, much-needed sleep, Harry stroked her hair and yawned, soon falling asleep himself.

And after being awake for so long, Hermione finally got the sleep she had yearned for....and so much more.