A/N: This is hermioneclone12, Victoria, and here is the first chapter, written by *me*. Yay! Next chapter will be written by Nickle!!!! Yay!
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Hermione sat resignedly out the window of Gryffindor common room. As much as she hated to admit it, she did have something she loved more than homework, and that was her best friend, Ronald Weasley. Sure, she loved her other best friend, Harry Potter, but not in the same way that she loved Ron.
She looked around to the now deserted common room around her. Why did she even bother? Ron was a friend, nothing more, and would never be anything more. It was a lost cause, as she had repeated to herself so many times.
Pressing her hands to her eyes, she was suddenly aware of how extremely tired she was. "How long have I been up? What time is it? And what is that annoying creaking sound?" She withdrew her hands from her face, her eyelids now drooping slightly. Another creak…no, maybe she imagined it.
Her eyelids began to close, but she was trying with all her might to stay awake, to find the cause of the creaking noise getting steadily louder….closer. She allowed her head to rest on her arms. What was the shadow in front of her, coming closer, and closer? Who was it? Before she could answer these questions in her head, she drifted off into sleep as the shadowed figure of somebody stepped out of the shadows…
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Hermione’s eyes fluttered open, puffy from staying up so late into the night and waking up so early, the sun hadn’t even risen yet. How long had she slept? She quickly glanced around her, and found herself, once again, alone in the common room. "Story of my life," she thought, yawning. It was then that she noticed a long, rectangular package in front of her on the table. Was it for her? She looked around her once more, as if to make sure no one was watching her, and slowly pulled the package nearer. Written in messy handwriting, that she couldn’t quite make out who belonged to, was ‘To Hermione Granger’ with the ‘I’ dotted with a heart.
At first, she was hesitant on opening it. Who knows what could be inside? It could very well be something as harmless as some sugar quills, but it could also be something dangerous, meant to harm her. Curiosity got the better of her, and she slowly opened the package. After she had taken of the plain beige wrapping, a single rose, followed by some papers, folded neatly to take the shape of the box, fell out.
She picked up the rose, and held it tenderly in her hands. Who had sent her this? She brought the rose to her nose and took in the sweet fragrance. She laid it down and picked up the top paper. Carefully, she opened it, and read:
"A Red, Red Rose"
O my Luve's like a red, red rose
That's newly sprung in June;
O my Luve's like the melodie
That's sweetly play'd in tune!
As fair thou art, my bonnie lass,
So deep in love am I:
And I will love thee still, my dear,
Till a' the seas gang dry:
Till a' the seas gang dry, my dear,
And the rocks melt with the sun;
i will luve thee still my dear
When the sands of life shall run.
And fare thee weel, my only Luve,
And fare thee weel a while!
And I will come again, my Luve,
Tho' it were ten thousand mile.
Her eyes darted from left to right, rereading the poem. A small smile played across her lips. She immediately recognized the poem she held in her hand as a muggle one. It was one she knew by heart, as it was one of her favorites.
She set the paper down, next to the rose, and picked up the next paper. In it, in large letters covering the full length of the parchment, was ‘When you smile, my heart melts’ in large, shining letters, bewitched to have each letter light up individually in different colors.
She placed this down on top of the first one, and picked up the third and final. This one caught her attention.
‘Others say it’s just a crush, but I say that it’s love. Sometimes when I feel upset or lonely, all I have to do is look at you from across the common room, look into your beautiful cinnamon brown eyes, and I know everything’s all right.’
Did this mean that, whoever this person was, was in Gryffindor? "It has to," she decided, "It couldn’t be anyone but a Gryffindor." For a second, for some odd reason, she thought of Dobby, the house elf, but she doubted that the he had fallen in love with her.
Outside, it was breaking day, and she could see the sun, in the distance, rising above the ground. She turned the rose over and over again, contemplating who this mystery person could be. She assumed that whoever this person was, was male, but she couldn’t be sure. It was never specified in any of the papers, or on the box or wrapping paper for that matter.
She was determined to find out who had sent her this; it would most certainly bother her to never find out. Closing her eyes, she forced her mind to recall the events of last night. What had happened. She remembered trying not to fall asleep, and wondering what time it was. She also remembered the creaking noise that had annoyed her, and trying to figure out where it was coming from. Then one thing came rushing back to her: the shadow that was moving steadily toward her before she fell asleep. This shadow had to be whoever gave her this package, it had to be.
Once again, she tried to force herself to think back again. "If I could only remember which direction this person came from, then I would know if they were male or female" she thought. She started to get a headache, and gave up her attempt. She took to staring out the window, as she did the night before, watching the sunlight roll over the grounds and creep up the side of the castle. She heard something. What was it? She spun around in her seat, to see Ron walking toward her, smiling.
“G’morning, Hermione,” he said groggily, as Hermione hastily tried to get her package and its contents out of sight. “What’s that?”
“Nothing…nothing,” Hermione lied, “A package from mum and dad.”
Ron sat down across from her, trying to catch a glimpse of the package. “Your mum and dad sent you a rose?”
“Yeah…yeah…they always send me a rose this time of year,” she lied again.
“How come I never saw one before this?” Ron asked.
“I always….er….,” Hermione sighed. “All right, it isn’t from my mum and dad. I just found it here…when I woke up. I don’t know who it’s from, is just said, ‘To Hermione Granger’.” Ron looked at her a moment.
“It looks like you have a secret admirer,” Ron said, before standing back up. “But just watch out Hermione, it could be one of those old brutes who go around stalking people for their own sick pleasure.” A worried look spread across his face, and his ears went red. “I gotta go get dressed.”
"I don’t think it’s any kind of stalker…It’s too good to be that. But…a secret admirer," Hermione thought. "I like the sound of that."
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After Harry and Ron had come down fully dressed, and Hermione had placed her new gifts on her bed, they headed down to breakfast. She didn’t say anything about it to Harry, and Ron didn’t seem to have told him either. They entered the Great Hall, and all the excited noise stopped immediately. Hushed voices whispered as they passed, and Hermione soon understood why. A huge banner, with a beaming picture of herself, looking around at the Great Hall, brandished the words, ‘I LOVE YOU, HERMIONE GRANGER’. Hermione looked up in awe at it, and saw that she wasn’t the only one; some were pointing at it, and some, like Malfoy, looked up at it and laughed.
Speaking loudly, so as to be heard, he said, “Hermione Granger? Who would love a mudblood like her?” The whole Slytherin table burst out in laughter. Hermione blushed, and ran out of the Great Hall. She was used to them laughing at her by now, but the fact that her ‘Secret Admirer’ had done something so big and obviously something that took so much time, embarrassed her in an odd way. She wasn’t used to this kind of attention; the last person to give her so much attention was Viktor, but then she at least knew who was giving her the attention.
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Her last class of the day was History of Magic. Although it was halfway through the year, she still couldn’t believe that both Harry and Ron had scraped an OWL and had to take the class this year. She tried to concentrate on her notes and the lesson, but her mind kept drifting to the banner, the rose, the gifts. It was all very unnerving, because she still had no clue as to who it was, but it was sweet all the same. She tried to concentrate on the lesson.
“…and Saint Valentine, although recognized as a Priest in the muggle world…”
Hermione still had trouble concentrating on the lesson. She tried to pretend it was just a dream, none of this happened, just so she could concentrate.
“…but we as wizards and witches know that Saint Valentine was the originator of Love Potions in history, and was the first to bring up the idea of a secret admirer, having been one himself…”
Hermione had had it. She needed to find out who this person was, and she needed to know now. It was driving her crazy. She looked around her and noticed that all eyes were on her; she had stood up sometime during her thoughts, and sheepishly sat back down. Hermione sighed, and stared down at her parchment. She had barely written any notes. What was the point of taking notes, anyway? She could, just as easily, go to the library and get the information, or just get the notes out of her textbook. She let her mind wander willingly now, and doodled on a scrap piece of parchment.
She sensed someone looking over her shoulder, she could feel their breath on her neck. She turned her head around to find Harry, who had been sitting to her right, trying to look over her shoulder. He tried to look at the parchment, but Hermione’s hair was in the way. Hermione looked down at her parchment, and to her horror, had Ron’s name scribbled all over her paper with little hearts. She snatched the paper up off the desk and stuffed it into her bag, and turned to Harry. That had been a close call. Harry almost saw it.
She looked at Harry, who was still trying to look over her shoulder. He looked to her face, just now realizing that she was aware of his spying, and grinned sheepishly. He sat back down and adjusted in his seat, glancing up at Hermione. “What exactly were you trying to do, Harry?” Hermione demanded, still nervous at almost being caught.
“Nothing…you just had this weird look on your face…” Harry murmured.
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Hermione lied in her bed in the girls’ dormitory. It had been a long, tiring day. Harry had almost found out, she couldn’t figure out who her secret admirer was, and the teachers still couldn’t figure out how to get the banner down. Hermione was mentally exhausted. She hadn’t even had so many thoughts running through her head when she was studying for OWL exams. She drifted off into a deep, dreamless sleep…
A/N: Diclaimer: The poem is by Robert Burns, NOT me or Nickle!