My hinny heart

Chapter 1

Hey guys, this is my first story! It is a Harry Potter fanfiction all the characters therefore belong to the fantastic JK Rowling. This story takes place in the sixth year of Hogwarts after the death of Sirius Black, however, the plot won't be exactly the same because it is my take on it.  Anyway enough of that boring stuff let's get right into it. Thank you for reading any feedback will be appreciated!

Harry's POV

We were on my bed. Her body was pushing up against mine. Our lips locked onto one another's. I was pulling at her hair. Her beautiful red hair that never lay straight. Her hands found the back of my shirt and pulled it up over my arms which I had already placed above my head to help aid her. We broke apart. Her fingers started to explore my chest, started to investigate every scar and blemish that I had. She kissed them all.

"What do you want me to do next?" She asked.

I closed my eyes and smiled, trying to think what would bring me the most pleasure. I opened them again having decided what I wanted her to do. She was gone. I was alone in my dorm, it was dark outside but the moonlight lit up the room just enough allowing me to see cold reality. My hands mechanically moved down to my bare chest. I lingered over my scar the one I had imagined being kissed. Why did I do this to myself? I thought for a moments perhaps it wasn't me doing it to myself but some exterior force outside of me that wanted me to suffer. I closed my eyes again and this time I did not imagine her all over me. 

It was a Tuesday evening, the Gryffindor common room has its usual glow, people had finished their dinner and slowly the room was starting to fill up. Rain droplets were starting to form on the skirts of the windows as the last owls swooped past returning for the night. Ron was nowhere to be seen. Hermione however, was sat across from me at one of the study desks with her hair tied up in a low bun.

Her quill was perched in-between her lips she had a furrowed brow and  mountain of parchment paper in front of her in which she was scribbling on. Four books were perched to one side of her with a fifth one leaning against what seemed to be a growing pile as more kept appearing out of the bag that was squished up against her right leg. I stared at her for a while, I liked it when she was like this it, deep in thought. It reminded me of how things use to be, how they should be. She however, found it quite the contrary.

"Harry. Harry! You're doing it again, what have I told you. It's really off putting". Hermione said looking up for the first time since we had sat down.

"Sorry," I mumbled.

"Look Harry, are you actually going to write that essay or stare at the desk the whole night", she whispered looking at me with a slightly annoyed expression but with something like pity and sorrow in her eyes.

"Your right. I'm just tired." I said as I placed my quill down besides the blank piece of parchment that lay untouched in front of me .

"Harry, I just want to remind you that we are all here for you, you can talk to us to know. We are want to help", she responded grabbing my hands and squeezing them in her own. "I think you should write a letter".

"A letter? Who can I possibly write a letter to?" I asked half smirking as I said it. Looking up I saw that she was in fact was not laughing but was dead serious.

"There are loads of people who are still alive and would do anything for you Harry. What about Bill, Charlie or Mr Weasley? There is alway Lupin and Tonks. Moody perhaps, I'm sure he would readily reply if you sent him a letter, and you know Mrs Weasley in particular wants to know that you are doing all right. She practically considers you to be one of her own sons!"

"Right, okay. A letter to Mrs Weasley". I shuttered, dipping my quill into ink and scrabbling around trying to find a smaller bit of parchment.

"Not now Harry, whenever you are ready. Just promise me you will," she said taking the quill out of my hand.

"Right, sorry". I muttered embarrassed.

She soon started packing her things away which took her a surprising short amount of time considering she had littered the table with her belongings. She told me she was going to continue her essay in the morning when she felt more refreshed and headed over to the sofa where she curled up and began reading a book. I too began to pack away my stuff shoving bits of parchment into my bag and in the process nearly spilling my ink. Once I had packed my things and was just about ready to go back to the dormitory I realised I couldn't move. It was like I was frozen stiff to the chair. I was that tired, so I decided to stay and lay on my arms with my eyes closed for a couple of minutes. 

"You comfortable there?" A familiar voice announced. It was Ginny, she came round and sat across from me. She was  holding a game of  wizards chess.

I turned red when she sat down, remembering the dream I had recently had about her. Over the past week, I had been convincing myself she wasn't the girl in the dream only someone who looked like her because of the bright red hair.

"Care for a game? I've just beaten Dean Thomas four times, he's ran up to his room saying he desperately needed the toilet but its been ten minutes now and it doesn't seem as if  he's coming back". She stated trying to hold back laughter. I laughed, I'd actually forgotten how funny Ginny was. 

I was actually happy she was here. I'd realised  that I  hadn't spoken to her in quite a long time and it was refreshing talking to someone new. She wasn't careful around me like most people had been, but real. When she was in the position to take my Bishop she would and then continue to make fun of my poor moves unlike Ron who on countless occasions pretended not to see the move which would allow him to win the game. She didn't treat me different as if I was capable of breaking at a moment and I liked it.

The game was getting quite intense I had managed to redeem myself and had taken a fair few of her pieces. To my surprise I found myself smiling the whole way through and on occasions laughing. I found myself staring at her, watching as she furrowed her brow thinking of where to move her pieces. I caught myself staring at her lips which she was biting down on. I forced myself to look away. 

Hermione's POV

Ron had finally decided to  return. He threw his bag alarmingly close to the fireplace and slumped down next to me on the sofa.

"Ron, where have you been?" I demanded, looking down at him. He looked untidy his shirt had untucked itself, his hair was all messed up with a  slightly wet look about it. His shoes which he had also thrown off  had been disguising his odd socks which were now uncovered, one brown one green.

"Where do you think? Detention obviously. Let me tell you Mcgonagall does not go easy and I'm in her own house for crying out loud!" He said half angrily half sleepily.

I looked at him with an  annoyed expression trying to hint that it was his own fault for getting into detention. He eventually  understood and knew to stop talking. "Where's Harry then?" he asked sitting up and surveying the area. His eyes had reached the table  which I was last at and I turned to see what he was looking at. Harry was still sitting there, not with his head slumped down on his arms which was what he had been doing the last time I saw him, but, he was smiling and laughing. I hadn't seen him like this in ages and it made me smile.

"When did Harry and Ginny start talking?" Ron asked with a confused look on his face.

"Oh, for God sake Ron. They are allowed to talk, look how happy he is. This is what we wanted. I wonder how she did it?" I said still staring at them in awe. He was finally enjoying himself.