You still don't get to bang her brains out, but you're talking with each other, and isn't that what really matters? ♥

Realizing the compromising situation she's put you in (not that you'd mind), the witty witch whose entire school life you've read and do know about, abruptly jumps out of your bed and tries to straighten her skirt, as if it isn't already decently done. In the same fashion, wide-eyed and red-faced you coughs exaggerated and hastily attempts to hide his stimulated lower regions under the already thin bedsheets. To an outside, omnipotent observer, this would look quite adorable.

A few uncomfortable coughs are exchanged. Finally, you find your voice, although it's cracking.

"So, uuummm.....how...what...where....how ya doin?"

Moron.

She musters you with a curious look, from top to toe. As if you could hear the cogs turning and rattling inside her head, it feels, judging by the way she analyzes you visually. From the books, the movies, from interviews, you've basically internalized every notable aspect of her critical thinking and outspokenness which you've frequently admired her for; both former and latter are being summed up.

"You're not from around here, are you?"

"uh....huh?"

Dumbass.

She lets out a frustrated sigh. You immediately start to feel more ashamed and guilty than embarrassed. She shakes her head.

"Sorry, what a dumb question. I mean, of course you aren't. I mean, your clothes, your accent, not to mention your look, I mean....oh my God, I am SO sorry, not that there's anything wrong with that. I apologize if I've offended you and-"

The last part is rattled down too fast so you can't make out much but every second word. Yet, in a weird way, although it's supposed to surprise you, seeing whom you've always seen as a goddess of knowledge and etiquette in mortal form, kind of calms you down. It's assuring. And maybe also a little-

"-refreshing.", you conclude. Hermione snaps out of her train of thought and talk and looks at you, questioning. You turn red and stutter, trying to explain, with your eyes unintentionally admiring the floor.

"N-,no, sorry, I meant, uh....it's refreshing to finally see someone who knows more about the muggle world than the rest....y'know, with your family and all, oh-" You wish you could bite off your tongue.

Instinctively, she takes a step back, and another one, as you get up, her hand close on her wand at her hip. The look on her face changes from curious to suspicious. She draws her wand and points it precisely at the coronal region of your chest.

"How....ok, now I want answers more than before. First off, how do you know about my connections to muggles? Secondly, how do you know what that word means? You better respond now, or I swear I'll-"

"Please!" Although the obsessed part of your brain shames you for interrupting the object of your long-held desires, your will to survive bests it, for now. "I-, I'm... I'm sorry, I'm...look, ok, wait, please...lemme just...give me just a few seconds to readjust, I need to know what to say or I'll just spout a bunch of more crap. Please."

Hermione doesn't reply, her wand still at it's place. Finally, she nods, not directing her eyes away from you. You take a deep breath in. Try to collect all your thoughts, all the knowledge you have from over a certain amount of years of reading, listening, watching, feeling this world which you're in now. You also need not forget what you cannot, under no circumstances, tell her when you explain. Like that she's actually not re- WE'LL GET TO THAT PART LATER, ALRIGHT?

You breathe out. You clap your hands together and try to look Hermione directly in the eyes.

"I'm a muggle myself. Let's begin with that. I know about you and that you're a witch while your parents are muggles, and what muggles are. And yes, I know practically all there is to know about the Wizarding world and Hogwarts, which is where we're at now."

She lowers her wand. Her position turns from distancing to curious, again. She gives you an incredulous look. If this situation wasn't so...dumb, you'd explode out of pure love for her and her cute little mouth hanging loosely open. And it drops even lower as her ears receive the same story you have told Dumbledore. When she switches back to the topic of her, you eloquently (which, to be frank, is quite rare for you, no offense) explain you've overheard some of the house elves who come and go out of the room from time to time talk about her. To not give too much (false) detail, you describe one of them as very passionate fan of a certain boy who lived. Said one has, apparently, given out a lot of useful information about the famous Hogwarts trio, being Harry Potter, his best friend Ron Weasley and smart, brave and beautiful (she's blushing) Hermione Granger who's often saved the butts of the two former.

Said one seems satisfied with the replies and information you've given so far, and returns to a warm, open, yet still curious position. She scans you with her eyes again, maybe trying to find out something about you that she hasn't noticed so far. You're starting to get into the mood. You can't help but even grin, because she acts just as all her other personas do. That's Hermione, for sure.

_"_Y'know, if you want, I mean, if you're into it...no, I mean, if you want, we can talk about where I'm from and how I managed to get here and whatnot maybe...next time...only if you want to return, of course."

It's unbelievable how you manage to stay conscious, but with all the power and self control you've left in your body and mind, you manage not to faint, as the doors of heaven open right in front of your sinful eyes.

No, you're not dying. Thank God you're not. Or...maybe, unfortunately, since you shouldn't get to see anything more beautiful what you're seeing now, while you're still alive.

Hermione cracks a smile at you. A warm, heartfelt, hugging smile. Something so mundane to her, but kiss to the soul to you. You're quite lucky there, John!

Opening that perfect opening, she starts to speak.

"Yeah, I'd really, really like that, Mr. Doe."

"Lol, please, I'm not that old. You can call me John."

"Hehehe, alright, then. It's nice to meet you, John."

"Same to you, Hermione." You LOVE how she cracks another smile while you mention her name.

Hermione picks up Harry's cloak of invisibility. "I better go now. It's starting to get bright soon, and I need to return Harry his stuff before he wakes up and notices. Not to mention getting some sleep which is something you should do, as well."

Boy, does that motherly-seeming vibe coming from that last line make you so much closer to faint. You're already feeling your knees go weak.

" Y-, yeah, uh...you better, I guess...so....tomorrow, same time, same place? I mean....it's probably going to be the same place, soooo...."

Idiot.

She nods supportively and gives you her last smile for today.

"I sure hope so, John. I'm looking forward to it." Oh, heavens!

Wishing you well, she puts the cloak above her head, and her body 'disappears' entirely. You awe. Seeing something like this happen for real is a much different experience than on the screen.

Just as she is about to open the door, one vital thought crosses your mind.

"Oh shit....,uh...Hermione?"

You hear fabric twirl as she turns her back. "Yes, John?"

"Uh, this might sound like a weird question, and I promise I won't mention it again, but...what year are you in, exactly?" You want to know how old Hermione is in this story, after all, don't you?

"Huh...I'm surprised you didnt hear Dobby mention it. I'm in my [Author's Note: Nice try, but her age needs to be clear here, although it wouldn't make sense, canonically. I'm not trying to get banned, there are other pages for stuff like what some of you might have hoped for] seventh year. Well, repeating it, more precisely."

"Ah...already 18, then, I suppose?"

"Hahaha, yes, now I'm a legal adult in both worlds. And just for a few days, actually. School year didn't start that long ago."

You share a little laugh, before she wishes you well and closes the door behind her. As if with her, a certain powerful presence leaves as well, you're starting to feel weak, needy. You take slow steps back to your bed.

As you pull the blanket over your body and drop your hot head on the chilling, cool cushion, you think about what has happened for now. You have been getting to know the fictional, but now...also real love of your life. And she seems to like you! Well done! Who knows what more could happen between the two of you...

But that's a question waiting to be answered next time.

[AUTHOR'S NOTE: VERY SPECIAL THANKS TO Icanhaznamepls WHO INSPIRED ME TO GIVE THIS WHOLE STUFF ANOTHER TRY. BUT DON'T LET YOUR HOPES UP TOO HIGH, GUYS.]