Stop and Stare

A/N: I feel this is one of my better pieces of work. If you think so too, please leave a review. (Love my poetry?)

Disclaimer: I'm thankful that J.K. Rowling created characters with such hidden personalities. It is because of her that it is possible to write Harry Potter fan fiction.

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She was just walking through the hall, completely alone, and there was no reason to be around anyone. She was avoiding her friends, who had so cruelly sided with each other, and had agreed that she was wrong. Again. This had to be the third time this year that they had separated from her. She knew that Harry was just being nice to Ron, because Ron's wrath was worse than hers. At least, she hoped that. But she couldn't stand it! She couldn't help liking Ron's stupidity and funny comments, but she never would have guessed that he wouldn't get it! Really, how hard was it to tell someone liked you? Apparently very hard, for some boys.

She couldn't like him anymore. Not like that. He obviously liked Lavender by how much she saw them kissing in the halls and other random places. And it hurt, that he would choose someone else. But after this last fight, she didn't feel anything for him. Just the lonesome friendship that they had shared; maybe they would share it again.

So she was lonely? What did it matter? She was just a girl who knew she was right and her friends were wrong. And it bothered her that they didn't trust her to know that she was right. She felt a deep sense of loss where her pride resided.

So she walked down the halls of Hogwarts, all alone, and avoiding any human being who dared to walk in her path. Her head hung, eyes staring at the floor, her wand on the alert for anyone approaching, and her shoes scuffling against the hard brick. Her bag was absent from her shoulder. She felt no use for it now. Only on schooldays, which this, conveniently, was not. It was a gloomy Saturday. Gray clouds hung over the school, and rain poured from them like there was no tomorrow. And sometimes she wished that there wasn't a tomorrow to face. Then she wouldn't have to worry about avoiding and ignoring people who meant so much to her. But it was for the best, because she knew that they were mad at her, and would try their hardest not to talk to her.

She was deep in her thoughts of gloom that by the time she felt her wand vibrating in her hand, she had already collided with the person who her wand had been trying to alert her of. It shouldn't have been such a hard crash, as she was walking rather slowly, and she assumed they had been too. Why should anyone walk fast on a Saturday? But this person had been walking with purpose and speed and had not seen the object in his way, so the collision was quite painful and both students fell to the ground, toppled on top of each other, very much in a tangle.

They were both dazed for several minutes before she began to move off of him, carefully removing the cuff of her shoe from his cloak, and her hand from between his sweater and shirt. She couldn't help blushing. Never had she been in such an awkward situation. It wasn't until she had fully moved away from this person that she looked up to his face.

A pale face, with deep gray eyes, was turned toward her, the hard pupils studying her face. He was in the position of getting up, his legs in arches, and the upper half of his body directed all weight to his arms, which were posed to push himself up. His mouth hung open slightly in surprise, and she could feel her face warming up, hotter than it already was. She wanted badly to sink into the ancient floor, but gravity wasn't strong enough for that, and her wand had flown over to the other side of him. She opted to speak, it was what she was best at, but for once she had no idea what to say, and she knew that if she said anything, it would come out sounding stupid and pitiful. So she just stared at him.

His eyes had softened since looking at them earlier and his pose had slumped, as though he wasn't quite sure what to do. His hair had rumpled from the fall, and she noticed his book bag had split and his books were spread out around the floor, one residing next to her wand. His chin was dropped onto his chest, just slightly, and it was still open just enough for her to see the tops of his bottom teeth.

"I—I'm sorry," His voice stuttered out. "I didn't look where I was going. I didn't think anyone would be out today because of the weather, it being gloomy and all."

His voice crashed against her eyes and she stared, only just realizing it was the nicest voice she had heard in several hours, perhaps days. Her brain was still tingling with the fact that Draco Malfoy had just spoken nicely to her.

Somehow her mouth moved of its own accord. "We're not out in the rain." She could have slammed her forehead against the wall for saying something so completely obvious.

His head nodded. "But still, weather like this tends to keep people holed up."

She found her head nodding in agreement and then shrugging. "I didn't feel like being holed up today. The weather looked inviting." And it had, up till now. Now she wished she had stayed in her dormitory.

"No book to bury yourself in?" He asked, a brow lifting in quizzical surprise.

She shook her head. "Books can get tiring," she said slowly, as though she wasn't quite sure she wanted to say such a shameful thing.

"Yes," He nodded his head and proceeded to stand up. "That's why I don't read very much, so books won't ever bore me." He offered her his hand and she stared at it. The long fingers were extended towards her. No wand was pointing at her. He was offering to help her up! "You grab onto it, and I pull you up." She looked up at his half-smile that managed to look kind, and yet amused.

She took it and was pulled to her feet. His grip was strong and his hand was soft, making her hope her hands weren't sweaty. As soon as he let go, he began to collect his books, and she was left, standing in a frozen position, watching him.

He didn't look up at her again until he picked up her wand. "Is this yours?" He held it up for her to see. Her eyes locked on her wand briefly before they traveled up to his face, and stopped at his own. He was wearing another quizzical look on his face, and she could detect some amusement hiding at the corners of his lips. They were twitching as though he wanted to smile.

She nodded, suddenly remembering what he had asked. He started toward her, stopping just inches from her. Her hand was still open, in the same position as it had been when he had pulled his hand away. He slipped the wand into her open palm, and looked down at her.

"I say, Granger," he said, "What is wrong with you? You don't seem to be all…here." His eyes were traveling all over her face, as though he could find an answer that way.

"I—my—um," she didn't know what to say, so she stopped when he put a finger to her lips.

"Hush," his voice had lowered. She was staring up at him, trembling under his finger. "This isn't me."

And then he kissed her. His finger had moved and gently stroked her cheek as his lips touched hers. Then he was pulling away, his eyes opened, staring at her, as though unsure of the response he would get.

She wasn't sure how to feel at first, but she knew the most unlikely person in Hogwarts had just swept her off her feet. She continued to stare into his eyes, such deep pools of gray.

"If that wasn't you," she whispered, "Who was it?"

He shifted his books so he held them in one arm. His head hung briefly, staring at the floor, but then he lifted his head, and met her eyes with a determined look.

"That was who I want to be. And when I'm him, I'll be back." And then he backed up, turned, and disappeared around the corner out of her sight.

Even if she had wanted to leave that spot, she couldn't have. Her feet were glued to the floor. She never wanted to move from the spot that her life had changed. She had just glimpsed the impossible, the unreal. It couldn't have happened. By all rights, it shouldn't have happened. But it had and Hermione had never felt to happy, so completely blissful, in all her life.

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I do have to say, this was a very different type of writing for me. I feel as though I just had a horrible day, and I was the one who got kissed and made happy.

My goal was two pages of rambling, and I got three pages of exploring a character or two. I feel very inspired. I hope you all enjoy and please leave a review!

Your author who works on inspiration,

Celebrytie Aris Channas