Silly Thing by mio(netwin) / tussis
Out of sight, out of mind.
What a silly proverb, Hermione Granger thought, just silly. Really, one would think that the people that came up with proverbs were anywhere near intelligent. Geniuses, even. They did after all educate the people about life and its meanings and how to follow what was right and how not to be fooled and how to always pick the long and difficult road to accomplish the best. They were near, of course, clear sagacity but in her opinion they were far from any intellectual ability. She could prove that saying so wrong.
She was the true and visible proof. There she was, sitting perfectly still with a large book smoothly weighing on her thighs, waiting patiently for attention. There was no sun hitting her eyes, preventing her from educating her curious mind further on the uses of black beetles and lizards. There was no annoying fly constantly whirring around and crossing her ever interested eyes. There was no red-haired foolish boy irritatingly peeping over her shoulder.
What are you reading?
Ronald, please.
Exactly. Ronald.
More precisely Ronald Bilius Weasley. Out of sight - completely. But not out of mind. Or…or out of heart.
So wrong, those proverb-making people, she thought, shaking her tawny little head.
No way.
She breathed in deeply. She decided this wasn't the way. No. This wasn't going to be the way. She was going to read this book. She was. She had to concentrate. She had to know this subject (even though it would eventually be taught in a few months). She had to know it, study it, learn it or otherwise why would Ron and Harry and anyone else need her?
Flipping the thin pages back to the beginning, she slowly fingered the themes organised in the index. No prologues, she decided. No extended versions of the original dedication, she determined. No, today she was going for the core. The interesting part.
Hermione, none of this is remotely interesting.
No, not again. She had some will of her own, after all.
There is much to be told about these terribly interesting yet so different creatures that are the black beetles and wall-lizards. Through the centuries of their existence, several wizards have been drawn into involving their own lives with the evolution and course of these animals. From the black beetle with the abnormally large time of bingeing and the fiery red lizard--
No way they were going to talk about red. How on earth had the authors managed to come up with a manner to speak of the colour in a book on insects and cold-blooded reptiles? Really, they should be making fun of her. Someone should!
How could he be ever out of mind?
How could he be out of her mind if even in the most boring book she could have found there was a hint to him and his stupidly attracting hair? How could he be out of her mind if every time her family had visitors they brought chocolates and she remembered his ridiculous grin? How could he be out of her mind if he kept owling her and she was forced (by pure good manners) to respond him with long letters? How could he be out of her mind if even in her dreams there was no peace and he continued bursting into them, obviously wearing green socks on his ears and reciting her favourite Shakespeare sonnet?
He was everywhere. At the chemists as her mother bought a cold medication, she met a scar-vanisher and she was reminded how his marks had felt on that night she sat singing him to sleep in the hospital wing. In the library when she saw a Muggle book that "finally unfolded the mystery around the legends of basilisks and trolls" (with negative sales profits, evidently) and she thought of Hogwarts and all the years she'd spent there. On the news when the Muggle reporter spoke about the sudden wave of vomiting that had shaken the strange Privet Drive and she knew Harry must have gotten loads of sweets from the twins who incidentally had a brother she was in love with.
It was difficult for him to be out of her mind, right?
For a flickering moment, she simply wished a tottering yet focused Pig would come down for her, carrying a letter. That way she could think of him without remorse for he had sent her the letter and there was no way she could ignore and it would be so rude and she had to owl him back and they were entering a war and she had to give news and he was her best friend. She would love to open her eyes to find his reckless handwriting and notice once again how he wrote her name in such a fine and different way, respectfully. Hermione, he always started. It seemed as though his hand softened as he wrote her name. She liked to think that in the middle of everything that was going on her name made him feel…
No.
She was Hermione Jane Granger. That meant that she did not by any means prefer to receive a letter from a boy than to study such an entangling subject like Potions. She was known and trusted for this ability to retain the information no one else could. That was what she was. Since first year, she helped not only by her intelligence but by her strong capability of remembering everything she'd ever studied when others would have just nervously stood appalled, looking into space for simple answers. She was an important element of the Fabulous Trio for that particular reason. And it wasn't just some boy that was going to set her off and make her lose her concentration and forget her obligations to her friends and her family and Hogwarts and the wizarding world and the Muggle world and the Leaky Cauldron and Madame Pomfrey and Professor Lupin and Madame Rosmerta and Mr Weasley and Professor Flitwick and the Three Broomsticks and everything.
But…but she could not control it. It was not like her. She usually knew what to do. What to say. What to think. Ron just left her in a place where her mind made no decisions. No will of her own.
She was sure if she said that to Ron he'd just laugh. That pure, free sound she'd missed so much while healing in the hospital wing after the Department. He would never believe her if she told him he had so much power. Power to make her chuckle. Power to make her smile. Power to make her blush. Power to make her cry. Power to make her love. So deeply.
But that was the truth. He was simply the boy out of her sight but always on her mind.
AN – I should be studying for my national exams but.. I decided to go a little Rebel. I am after all Rita, the Rebel, in case you didn't know. Anyway, I got this idea while I was reading an old English school book, my dad's actually, and it had a couple of pages full of proverbs. So.. if I get a fair amount of reviews wink, wink, nudge, nudge, I might take a look at those pages again for some more inspiration..
No. Now talking seriously, tell me what you think. Come on. It's easy and free of charge :)
And all this thanks to Jen who courageously put up with my non-daily-basis-English-speaking character :)
