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I remembered the day when I first set my foot on Hogwarts Express. I was looking forward to the new life that awaited me. The life I was inexperienced in, but would surely adapt to. Things were different. I was alone for the first time in my life, free of the overprotective environment that had enveloped me all my life. I've never had my parents around me. They were admitted to St. Mungo's when I was very small. I was deprived of their love, a love that was rightfully mine.





Hogwarts was one place where I expected to be with the kids my own age for a change. I always had my grandmother and my Great Uncle Algie, but seriously, they weren't exactly fun to be with. I wanted to be admired and liked by people around me - I mean who doesn't? But my experiences in Hogwarts were far more humiliating than I'd ever imagined them to be.





From the day that I entered the portals of Hogwarts, I was labelled as the goat who couldn't do his tricks right. I was taunted by the teachers and jeered at by my own classmates. No girl ever talked to me for more than ten minutes at a stretch; afraid they might make a fool out of themselves by being associated with me: they all avoided me like the plague. But it was Hermione Granger who talked to me; she encouraged me during my lowest moments.





When everybody else in the common room were laughing their heads off, she rid me of that stupid leg-locker curse that Malfoy had placed on me. Okay, maybe she did put a full body-bind curse on me too, but she sincerely apologised for it later. And I remember how we celebrated winning that year's House Trophy.





Potions was my worst subject. The presence of the menacing Severus Snape made it ten times worse. How was it possible to think straight when you know that you are under constant scrutiny? But she helped me in Potions right under Snape's nose. Even though she had to endure disgrace in front of the entire class. She never gave a damn; at least not when she was assisting me.





She helped me endure the jibes of the foul Slytherins; told me to hold my head up high. They had always laughed at me when I melted my cauldron in Potions, but no one realized that it was because of the bushy brown-haired, pretty girl who sat in front of me; measuring crushed spine of a crocodile, her hands bent at an angle which made them look all the more fragile.





I couldn't believe my ears when she asked me if I was going with someone on the Yule Ball. She was actually concerned! In that beautiful periwinkle blue dress, she looked mind-blowing! I guess that's the first time guys in our school actually took notice of her as a girl. But I saw her as the most beautiful girl the moment I set my eyes on her. As I watched her dance in the arms of Victor Krum, it slid into my mind that she was unique.





I saw her take charge of the DA, tried to control an overenthusiastic crowd. She had worked up her hair in a bun; loose strands of her golden-brown hair kissed the nape of her neck. If only I could just hold her then - at that instant of time and tell her how much I thought about her.





We practised together in the Room of Requirement. I intentionally did the spells wrong so that she could hold my wrist and show me the proper way to flick the wand. I felt current flow through my hands where she'd touched them. We fought in the Ministry side by side. I felt afraid for the first time that night; not because I'd be dead any instant, but because maybe I'd never see her again.





Then she saw me that day at St. Mungo's where I had gone to visit my parents. It always pained me to see them. If I could I'd kill Bellatrix. I wouldn't even need my wand; my hands would suffice, but when I saw Hermione standing there, I felt a glow inside me. And for a moment I felt light-headed, as though I had no worries in the whole wide world.





I don't really know what it was that drew me to that girl like a magnet. I mean she's sweet, kind, has a great personality; but above all she's compassionate. She never shrugged me off because I'm academically inferior to her. She had never looked at me with pity. I know that it was genuine concern





Ron and Harry were nice too; Harry helped me several times but still, sometimes I felt jealous of them. They are her best friends, and she interacts with them like she never does with anyone else. Last night I overheard Ron talk to Harry about his infatuation with her. He said if there were a girl he'd want to shag, it'd have to be Hermione. My blood boiled to hear the stupid egotistical red-head; Hermione deserves better than some lampoon like Ron, who has never made her feel good about anything.





Okay, I know I'm sound pretty melodramatic now. But Hermione's really special and she deserves someone special too. I don't mean myself necessarily but just someone who'd take care of her, never hurt her in any way and love her more than I do.





I had seen her all this time at Hogwarts. For six years, people had misjudged her as an arrogant and bossy know-it-all, but I know better. She had helped me out of several tight situations, sometimes at the cost of her own embarrassment. She was the only person who treated me as her friend. She never felt humiliated in my company as other girls of my house did. She was my first crush and my last hope for survival.





I know for a fact that she'd never ever be mine. She's too good for me. I could not hold her in my arms and tell her how much I loved her; loved her since the day I saw her. I know I could not have her. But I could always dream. And, I dream of Hermione Granger.













A/N: okay, okay. It was just a moodswing to write fluff. I was reading the OoTP when I suddenly realised how cute Neville was, especially in the train ride to Hogwarts (call me a tubelight). And I realised, there weren't too many stories about Neville either. So, I guess that gave me the inspiration to write this fic on my candlelit desk (ecleckcity was out). Anyways, R/R!