62Don't Stand So Close To Me
Young teacher, the subject of schoolgirl fantasy
She wants him so badly, knows wants she wants to be
Inside her there's longing, this girl's an open page
Book marking, she's so close now
This girl is half his age…Police
The small cursive script of the large book full of knowledge seemed to blur tonight. Hermione's eyes wouldn't focus, they didn't want to concentrate, or want to gain the wise knowledge or philosophy of the book today. Hermione kept her finger on the line of words she had to follow, trying to read along as her finger moved across the frail yellowed pages. Her eyes went in and out of focus as the feeling of nausea crept over the stomach and to her throat. She snapped the book shut, though keeping her finger on the page.
"I'm going mad, I'm a total fool and a idiot!" she grumbled to the empty dormitory.
Closing her eyes, Hermione leaned back against her bedpost, breathing in slowly and letting it all out even slower. After a few minutes of practicing the breathing techniques she had learned from a very helpful book from the library (A Complete Healer's guide to Healing in Helpful Ways) she re-opened her eyes to turn the great volume to the marked page. She blinked at the miniature words and tried to make sense of it, but the sudden throbbing in her temple finally urged Hermione to give up on the book. For now atleast.
Resigned, she slid off of her bed. Hermione turned to leave the dormitory for dinner when her reflection caught her eye. Just herself standing alone in the vast emptiness of the dark room. She gazed at her self silently, taking in everything: the planes of her face, the rise of her cheekbones, and the curve of her eyebrows. She leaned in closer to observe her tired eyes with their dark glow. She leaned closer yet as if to kiss the mirror, but her eyes remained transfixed upon her face. The golden brown glow in her eyes, sometimes taking over the dark orbs, but if the shadows of the lights flickered for a moment or so, the dark pools would triumph. She tilted her head slightly, fogging the glass with her warm breath. Her hands inched up slowly, as she gazed still mesmerized.
She traced the curve of her cheek lightly, running her fingers along the lines of her lips. Sliding her tongue lightly over her pouting lips. She breathed in deeply, inhaling a scent that was all his, her eyes sliding shut on their own accord. She shivered as a chill ran up her spine, and the quick shudder had her throwing her head back as if in immense pleasure.
Thud Thud Thud. Hermione's eyes flew open as the dormitory door was flung open and Parvati and Lavender's loud chattering reached her ears. Leaning her forehead against the mirror she ran a shaky hand through her hair, trying to still the wild beating of her heart. It had been as if he was right here, with her. As if he were touching her, and filling her with his scent, with his hands, with his mouth, with him.
"Hermione! Ron and Harry are downstairs waiting for you!" Parvati yelled over her shoulder as they left, slamming the wooden door behind them.
Quickly composing herself, Hermione entered the common room. She scanned the room for Harry and Ron, and having found them she made her way to the two boys sitting by the fire involved in a game of intense exploding snap.
She stood in front of them wearily, waiting. Hermione ran her hand up and down her arms as if to ward of a sudden chill, thinking back to her experience in the dormitory. It had happened before, she thought logically, so there was no need to be scared since nothing terrible had ever occurred after it, or nothing out of the ordinary. It had just been like a dream, there was no way to properly explain it, the mind, after all, worked in strange ways…except this had been real, and she knew it. Hermione frowned lightly, and pushed the thoughts to the back of her head. The common room was emptying slowly, and Hermione was still waiting and observing the game now with dull distinctness.
"Will you two just get up now?" Hermione snapped loudly after another ten minutes had passed by with no signs of the two finishing.
A louder explosion filled the room followed by thick wisps of smoke hiding Ron's singed eyebrows.
"Oye Hermione! Did u have to yell so loud and scare the cards?" Ron grumbled over Harry's mocking laughter, as he got up to brush of the specks of ash that had settled over his clothes and hair.
"Well you two called me down here so we can go have dinner, so lets go!" Hermione said her patience finally wearing thin. She marched towards the portrait, rolling her eyes at the laughter and grumbling coming from behind her.
She had purposely chosen this seat for it gave her the perfect view of the teachers table without any of them noticing her constant gaze. She had her view on one of them right now, as she always did every night. Hermione carelessly twirled her fork around in her empty plate as she quietly observed her professor. He was seated beside Minerva Mcgonnigal and Flitwick. Making polite conversation with them seemed to come easily to him, easier, it seemed, then eating the contents on his plate was. The few lines around his intense eyes formed as he chuckled appreciatively at something Flitwick had said. Her gaze slid down to his nose and lips, and then back to his eyes. She stared at them fascinated.
They always amazed her, those eyes. His eyes represented him; they showed what, and who he was if only one knew what to look for. Most of the time they were a calm warm amber. They could be relied on when needed, yet there was a fire inside him, burning slowly and steadily, sometimes growing fast, as large as a bonfire; out of control and dark, and at times smoldering down to just a warm spark. The spark always stayed though. There were many words she could use to describe him, all of him, the opposites, the yin and the yang, the dark and light, the black and white, the good and evil. He possessed all those qualities, but then again, Hermione thought, most human beings did too.
Hermione looked back to the Gryffindor table to see Harry, Ron, Ginny, Dean and Seamus involved in a fierce debate about Quidditch and Parvati and Lavender pouring over the astrological pages from some magazine. She felt so detached from them all, even Harry and Ron had noticed her odd behavior and alerted Ginny to try talk to her after they had ended up with no success.
He had become a sort of obsession for her. Hermione had started to notice every little thing he did ever since their visit to Grimmauld place last summer. They had kept Grimmauld as the secret headquarters, but were searching for a safer place now that the deatheaters knew about Sirius's membership in the Order.
Hermione had arrived later in the summer as she had been on vacation with her parents to France. Paris really was a beautiful city, Hermione thought smiling softly as she remembered the theaters and Opera and the sidewalk café's. Maybe she had thoughts like a romantic fool, but Hermione knew most no girl would refuse a trip to Paris because it caused the female mind to think it romantic. The art, the wine, the café's the river rides, the after night sidewalk strolls. Probably since that's the way we were thought to think, Hermione reminded herself. She had thought of him in Paris. She hadn't stopped thinking about him since the day at the Ministry of Magic.
He had no one left, nobody that Hermione knew of anyway, and she didn't know much about his life, she didn't know anyone who did. She knew everyone sympathized for him, why would one think she was any different? But she was different. No one else was dreaming about soothing his anxiety, or having wild fantasies about him, or obsessive thoughts about how he was spending his nights, or think that his presence was somehow in their rooms and have random spurs of pleasures from it.
Sighing she buried her face in her hands for a moment. She didn't know anything about him, she had no right to think about her teacher the way she did. Hermione remembered the flash of joy she had felt when Mrs. Weasley had told them with happiness brimming her worn and tried eyes that Remus Lupin would be teaching at Hogwarts again. She had clapped and congratulated Remus like everyone else the next day, but secretly letting her mind yell with exultation. She could still see Professor Lupin with the Weasleys and herself at Grimmauld place's living room. She had seen happiness and satisfaction in his eyes for a fleeting moment before it was replaced wit the usual somber faraway look that had settled there since the incident in the ministry.
She had tried to ignore it, but his eyes seemed to have been burned into her head. She dreamt about those eyes that night, and followed almost every night after. If seem from detached consideration they seemed polite and un attached, but inside there really was just a spark that was burning out.
She felt a stirring within her and her eyes felt compelled to look up at Professor Lupin again. This time they somehow had found hers too. A curious shudder ran through her as his amber eyes looked into hers intently. She blinked as Professor Lupin sent her a small smile from the teachers table and looked away.
"Hermione! Hey Hermione?" Ginny reached out to shake Hermione's shoulder just as Hermione reluctantly turned to look at the younger redhead.
"What's up with you Hermione? You seem so distracted." Ginny said reaching for the treacle tart.
"I'm fine. Really I am. Just worried about war." Hermione lied, folding her napkin tightly. It was the easiest thing to be worried about these days. She looked up to find Harry observing her closely, and looked away.
"Hermione..." Harry spoke wearily.
"What? I'm perfectly fine you know that. Just worrying about Voldemort and the war, and homework and such…" she said looking down and contemplating her folder napkin before unfolding it and pressing it together again.
Ginny observed her with a faint smile floating on her face, as if she knew something everyone else didn't.
"I know what's wrong with Hermione," she said finally, her eyes shinning as she grinned.
"What's wrong with Hermione?" Harry asked turning his attention to Ginny while peeking at Hermione rolling her eyes again.
"There's always been something wrong with Hermione!" Ron said loudly leaning over the table while spooning a large amount of chocolate pudding into his mouth. Hermione shook her head at him fondly while handing him her unused folded napkin.
"Fhanks," he said accepting her napkin. "Oye you've molested it Hermione!" Laughing he unfolded it as Ginny impatiently cut in.
"I think Hermione's in love!" she said grinning. All eyes focused on Hermione for her reaction. She started at the three of them dumbly for a minute.
"What?" she said stupidly as if having never heard that term.
"It makes sense Hermione! You start to sit here so that you can have a perfect view of him, you're always staring off and daydreaming about something all the time, and you're always so secretive about where you go of some nights!"
Harry and Ron considered it for a moment then slowly nodded.
"Wow…Hermione in love?" Ron muttered. "So who is it?"
Hermione looked at all their expectant faces before she started laughing.
For some reason she was laughing very hard now. She had no idea what was driving her to laugh this insanely, but for some reason she couldn't stop. She was laughing so loud that the entire table at one point started looking down the table at her, she was sure that most everyone's eyes were on her now, but she didn't care, she still couldn't stop. She wasn't laughing at what Ginny said anymore, she was laughing because it felt good, she was laughing for him, she was laughing for times he couldn't laugh, and she was laughing for herself. It felt good to laugh so much after so long though. Professor Lupin needed to laugh more.
"Oh you three! I'm not in love with anyone!" she finally cried out when she had calmed down enough. She giggled softly at small breaks, wiping a tear that had slipped down her cheek.
"Maybe I could join the Secret Society of the Laughing People, what do you all think?"
Harry, Ron and Ginny started at her now confirmed that she really had, finally, gone mental.