Disclaimer: I am neither a really rich English lady, nor a dead one. Characters created by either J.K. Rowling or Jane Austen do not belong to me in any way.
I, Hermione Jane Granger, have a serious problem. I'm falling in love with the wrong guy. Wait, did I say falling? I should have said fallen, it would be more accurate. I've fallen hopelessly in love with the wrong guy. This wasn't supposed to happen! I've had my romantic life all planned out since I was ten, and this was NOT in the plan. Maybe I should back up a little due to the bewildered, just slightly amused look on your face.
When I was ten, a year before Hogwarts, I read Pride and Prejudice by Jane Austen, and I fell in love with it. While some girls were princesses or pop stars, I was Elizabeth Bennet, intelligent, beautiful, and all-around awesome. Naturally, this meant I would end up with Mr. Darcy, even though I had no sisters for him to rescue and save from disgrace. He would be tall, dignified, and darkly, ruggedly handsome. He would be smart and conveniently wealthy as well. Most importantly, he would be in love with me long before I realized I loved him back. That was the plan, and I was waiting patiently for it to unfold when Ronald Weasley came into my life.
Ron Weasley, with his amazing red hair, awesome Quidditch arms, sexy voice, wonderful family, gorgeous eyes…ARGH!! This stupid boy is the source of all my problems. Not only is he the exact opposite of Mr. Darcy, but I'm in love with him and I'm his homework editor/just friend. Which sucks. Sure, sometimes he starts to act like he's interested in me, but two seconds later someone who's skinnier and bigger in other places then me comes along, and guess who he's following then? I really tried to get over him last year when he and Lavender became a "thing." Unfortunately, it took him snogging another girl for me to realize how much I fancied him.
Maybe he's my Mr. Wickham. Maybe I'll find out something awful about him, he'll run away with the younger sister I don't have, and my Mr. Darcy will come. Maybe. Or maybe we'll all just die in the war. Now that's optimistic. Maybe I should be glad Ron isn't more like Mr. Darcy. It might make the fact that he doesn't care about me easier to deal with. Or the fact that I'm sitting here watching everyone else dance and be in love at this wedding and I'm here date-less and miserable. I even bought these stupid, really expensive dress robes because the match stupid Ron's stupid eyes. Oh my gosh, he's staring at me. Why is he staring at me?!? Does he have any sense of propriety? And he has this really disturbing look on his face. He looks like he's hungry or something. Oh no, now's he's walking over here. What is wrong with him? And why is he looking all cocky, like he's just been picked sexiest man alive, which wouldn't have been a bad choice…No. I didn't just think that. Now he's talking.
Ron Weasley just asked me to dance. Hang Mr. Darcy, I've just realized I'm partial to Mr. Bingleys myself.
