Hermione ❤ Harry

Hermione realized she made a mistake when she saw Harry coming downstairs. Her heartbeat raised, and she felt her breathing becoming hard. 'Oh my god, he is gorgeous.'

Deep inside her heart, a dark corner whose existence she refused to accept, she held feelings for Harry. She wanted to revise the lines she had written in the book, but her heart refused to listen.

"Hey Hermione." Harry greeted.

"He-He-Hello, Harry." She replied, her breathing hard and palms sweaty.

"You seem nervous. Is everything alright with you?" He asked, worry coloring his tone. This was what made her fall for him, even if she denied it all these years. But not now.

"It—it's nothing. You do not need to worry about me." She weakly said.

"You are my friend, Hermione. Of course, I worry about you." That right there was the suave tone she feared. He was irresistible. Of course he was; she had written so.

She could not deny him; she told him everything. Even if her mind protested, knowing the dangers of someone like Harry getting his hands on the book.