Author's Note:
Hey guys! Here is a nice one shot, because summer is almost upon us. I can't wait! I'm really sorry that it's been ages since an update, but I haven't found the time. I'm planning a collection of songfics that I'm going to write this summer, and another collection story. I have several one shots that I just need to type up and a half written chapter of In My House. Please bear with me, and a huge thank you goes out to everyone who reads this. Reviews are lovely! :D
I do not own Harry Potter or any of its characters.
Summer
She lay spread-eagled on her bed, in the dark, valiantly trying to fall asleep. Across the room, she heard Ginny's deep and steady breaths. She sighed and crept down the stairs to the drawing room, where there was less heat.
Hermione sat down on the old couch, and tied her thick hair up off of her neck. She had always hated the summer. The heat messed with her brain and made her feel stupid. She always felt as if she was in a daze, and everything was fuzzy. She constantly felt as though she were wrapped in gauze, trying to claw her way out of the thick fabric, and trying to desperately see the real world again. Being stuck in the stuffiness of Sirius's house did not help matters much. In fact, her claustrophobia and hatred of the heat were worse here.
She sighed again, wishing for the cold of Hogwarts. Every morning when she used to wake up, the stone floor would be ice cold underneath her feet, even in June. This summer must really be hot, Hermione thought idly. Her brain turned to other matters, and she wondered when the Order members would leave to get Harry from the confines of number four Privet Drive. However, thinking of Harry…made her think of Ron.
Hermione and Ron had become rather close that summer, and she had really gotten to know him, without Harry interrupting. Ginny spent most of her time fanning herself and writing to Michael Corner, so the two of them had spent more time together. Hermione suspected that Ginny was still in love with Harry and was only throwing herself into this relationship with Michael to forget him, and to stop worrying about Harry. Who am I kidding? We're all worried about him. Being cooped up at the awful Dursleys' house while Cedric's death is still fresh in his mind.
Her breath hitched as she thought of the Hufflepuff. She had never really known him, because he was a few years older, but his death seemed cruel. He had had everything: a great future, excellent grades, and a fantastic girlfriend who was completely in love with him. Her heart stopped for a moment as she realized that Cedric was the first death of the war. Her eyes welled with tears, and she desperately tried to think of something, anything else.
She sighed then, and her thoughts turned to Ron, as they often seemed to be doing lately. She thought about his hair, and his freckles, and the way those blue eyes would crinkle when he smiled at her…
She shook her head forcefully, as if to clear it, and stood up. She slowly made her way back up to her room, pausing whenever the old stairs creaked, hoping that she would be able to fall asleep.
Back upstairs, as she was laying in bed, a sudden realization hit her. She sat up, panting and gasping for breath.
"'Smatter?" asked Ginny sleepily, rolling over to look at her in the dim light of the moon outside the window.
"I think…I think that I might love him," Hermione whispered. Ginny did not have to ask who "him" was.
"Of course you do. You always have, you genius idiot," Ginny muttered, before dropping off to sleep again.
Hermione gave a slightly hysterical laugh before staring at her ceiling again.
Hermione had always hated the summer. The heat made her hair worse than usual, and she almost always felt slow and stupid.
Maybe, just maybe, this summer will be better, she thought, before she dropped off to sleep again.