What I wanted.
"I think she heard you…"
Harry Potter's voice echoes after the rapid footsteps of Hermione Granger. The bushy haired girl let out a sob as she raced towards the girl's lavatories…
.
"What're friends for?"
Ronald Weasley's voice echoes through the halls of Hogwarts after he and Harry had helped to save Hermione from a troll. Hermione smiled at Harry, but still didn't forgive Ron for his snide comments…
.
"I'm brilliant," Harry smiles.
The three friends had just been through their first adventure, through the insides of Hogwarts itself. Hermione was glad that everyone was all right, but still thought that Ronald Weasley, along with all of those older brothers he had, were obnoxious and rude. She would never forgive him for his stupidity, insensitivity and pig-like behaviour, and she would never, ever, like that family…
.WIW.
Hermione is suffering from her first ever crush. It's killing her inside.
The first year of Hogwarts saw her vow to dislike the Weasley family forever. Second year saw Harry, Hermione and Ron rescue the youngest Weasley, a girl named Ginny, from Tom Riddle and the Basilisk.
That was when the first of Hermione's problems arose.
After being awoken from a paralysed sleep, Hermione was filled in by Harry and that red-haired idiot. Upon hearing that Ginny Weasley was the one that nearly died, the bushy haired girl felt sick.
Despite her vow made merely a year ago, Hermione was sort of fond of the younger girl. She was sweet and thoughtful, kind and wickedly witty. Everything her older brothers were not. The thought of little Ginny lying pale and unmoving on the damp floor of the inner pipes of the castle made Hermione feel terrible, as if a huge fist was crushing her heart from the inside.
The summer break saw Hermione run that scene through her mind again and again, each time becoming more and more determined to make sure that the feelings of horror, despair and loss would never be induced by Ginny again.
.WIW.
Third year at Hogwarts and Hermione has a crush on a certain red-haired someone. She walks with her two best friends down to the main hall, just the same as every morning. She walks past Ginny and her friends, the same as every morning. She doesn't even notice, the routine repeating as it had every morning.
"You seem distracted," Ron spoke through a mouthful of food. Hermione thought he looked like a morbidly obese gerbil. She ignored the idiot, still preoccupied with her thoughts. She was contemplating how to get her red-head to like her. She had been running various ideas through her head for weeks.
Of course, that all went out the window when Ginny cornered her later that day and said;
"Hermione, please will you help me get Harry to notice me? I think I love him…"
Two years had passed since then, and Hermione's crush on her red-head flourished and thrived into full-blown love, while her hope squandered away to nothing.
She watched in pain as Ginny went through boyfriend after boyfriend, all the while trying to get famous Harry Potter to notice her. She put on a brave face and helped her friend with all of her schemes, but in the dark recesses of her mind she was slowly wasting away.
She desperately sought to distract herself, and thought a relationship could be the answer. She never went for Harry, because she cared too much for Ginny to even think about it. But everyone else was fair game.
At least, they would be if any of them were the least bit attractive. Very few were funny, none of them were intelligent, and the only cute guys poor Hermione could find were gay. Feeling beyond desperate, Hermione turned to her last resort; Ginny's older brother, Ronald.
She put all of her efforts into getting Ron to like her, and it almost had her completely distracted from her heartbreak.
Almost.
The end of the year passed, and the New Year reared its sleepy head. Hermione went back to school, prepared to do whatever it took to rid herself of the horrible, empty space in her chest.
But when she saw her friends again,. She knew she just couldn't do it. When she looked at Ron, she was just – quite frankly – disgusted. Harry looked at Hermione oddly, before leaving well enough alone as the girl's bottom lip trembled.
She just couldn't do it…
Despite her best efforts, Ronald found himself a girlfriend. Distraught, the bushy haired girl ran to a separate room and began to sob. Why it was that none of Hermione's attempts were working was beyond her. Was she really that repulsive?
Harry soon found her like this, crying in the empty classroom. He rushed to comfort her and Hermione only cried harder when she remembered that her red-haired love was head over heels for the man presently attempting to console her.
The moment tripled in awkwardness when tactless Ronald waltzed into the room, dragging that slut of a girl behind him. In a burst of rage, Hermione sent magically transfigured canaries after the ginger idiot, before collapsing into tears again. Harry gave her a hug, and she spoke.
"Harry, do you know how I feel?"
"Yes, I think I do," He murmured, too quietly for Hermione to hear.
.WIW.
Hermione was cornered by her beloved red-head the next day.
"If he broke your heart, I'll break his arm," Ginny growled.
Hermione smiled in a watery fashion, but shook her head.
"Forget that twat, he was merely a distraction, but it's no use, I just can't forget…" The bushy haired girl bit her lip.
"Who?" Ginny asked. Hermione remained painfully silent.
"You can tell me, we're best friends, right?"
"That's the problem!" Hermione blurted.
Ginny looked shocked and hurt. She turned to go, but Hermione grabbed her arm.
"I want to be more than best friends," She whispered, before releasing Ginny and running away.
.WIW.
Ginny hadn't spoken to Hermione for three weeks. Harry was the only one to notice, and spent the majority of his time comforting the two of them.
His attempts, whilst heartfelt, were sadly unsuccessful, and Hermione slowly sank into a pitiful state. She rarely ate, no longer read or studied, and wouldn't sleep for days at a time. The poor girl was slowly but surely fading away.
Eventually Harry got severely concerned, and Demanded that Ginny tell him what was going on.
"Harry, I don't know what to do!" Ginny cried. "Hermione told me that she wants to be more than my best friend, and then she ran away! Now I don't know what to think."
The red haired girl flung herself onto the Boy who Lived and kissed him. Harry stood in shock as Ginny pulled back, frowning.
"I thought that would be what I wanted, but it isn't," She murmured.
Harry regained his senses slowly.
"Just talk to her, please, for both of your sakes. She's wasting away."
Ginny remained silent, hand to her lips, thinking furiously. Harry gently nudged her.
"Please, talk to her?" He pleaded.
"I will," Ginny looked up, and Harry swore he thought that he could see a new twinkle in her eye that hadn't been there before.
.WIW.
Hermione was curled into a ball on the couch in front of the fire, a box of tissues in her hand, when Ginny found her. The girl took a deep breath and sat down next to her best friend.
"Listen, Hermione," Ginny began.
"No, please, don't say it," Hermione spoke softly, not looking away from the flames. "It's fine, honestly it is. I don't know why I said what I did. I'll not mention it again. Just please, please say that we can still be best friends."
Hermione finally looked at the red haired girl, pleading with her eyes.
"But Hermione," Ginny gently placed her soft hand over the bushy haired girl's pale one, before smiling at her.
"I want to be more than just best friends."
Hermione took in the words, before smiling for the first time in weeks. Ginny leaned in softly and pressed her lips to Hermione's.
Harry walked in and smiled as he watched them pull apart. His smile only widened when he heard Ginny speak.
"That's what I wanted…"
AN (Updated) -
Hey all, this was edited very VERY slightly in 2019, but has been left as close to the original as I felt comfortable in order to keep record of my own growth as an author. I won't be editing everything I've done in the past (or least I have no plans to do so), but every now and then you go back and read something you wrote a long time ago and you just want to apply your new skills to your old ideas.
So yeah, my new-old story for your reading pleasure.
Adieu,
Z