Hermione
A/N- depression warning. Please do not flame me for
this! I know this could have been written better. If
you would like to rewrite it, feel free. I might do a
rewrite later. Or maybe, if enough people ask nicely,
a sequel. (unless you're too depressed to ask.)
He's always there, black hair always in need of
a comb. He grins at me and I wave, but I long for the
daring to do more than that.
Sure, being his best friend is great, but he
only thinks of me as a friend. If only he felt more.
If only he really cared for me in that other way.
I know who he does care for. I know who he's
thinking about when he watches the Ravenclaw table with
a dreamy look on his face. And when those startling
green eyes light up when she steps into veiw, I would
give anything to be in her place.
Of course, she doesn't really care for him.
She just flirts and plays with his heart. She only
cares for his fame. I can see right through her.
When I see my parents when they pick me up at
the station after term, I always smile inside, but I
also cry. I just know how his relatives treat him. I
wish I could make them understand what it was like for
him, but they probably wouldn't care. I hate them.
He always does kind things for people, and each
thing he does makes me care all the more for him. I
wish I could strangle those people who insult him, those
who think he's always after more and more fame. He
hates his fame!
When Ron and I fight, he always tries to be
neutral. I love him for that.
I love him more and more each day, but I know
he will never feel the same about me. I just can't
compete with people like her.
That's why I have to do it. It's a good thing
Professor Moody taught it to us.
I prepare myself. I want Him to have a good
last picture of me. I change into pure white robes my
parents gave me for my birthday and put white lilies in
my hair. I leave a last goodbye addressed to all I
cared for in this world on my desk. I take my wand,
and whisper those fateful words.
Avada Kedavra.
* * *
The next day, black curtains were hung in the
Great Hall out of respect for Hermione Granger.
A/N- depression warning. Please do not flame me for
this! I know this could have been written better. If
you would like to rewrite it, feel free. I might do a
rewrite later. Or maybe, if enough people ask nicely,
a sequel. (unless you're too depressed to ask.)
He's always there, black hair always in need of
a comb. He grins at me and I wave, but I long for the
daring to do more than that.
Sure, being his best friend is great, but he
only thinks of me as a friend. If only he felt more.
If only he really cared for me in that other way.
I know who he does care for. I know who he's
thinking about when he watches the Ravenclaw table with
a dreamy look on his face. And when those startling
green eyes light up when she steps into veiw, I would
give anything to be in her place.
Of course, she doesn't really care for him.
She just flirts and plays with his heart. She only
cares for his fame. I can see right through her.
When I see my parents when they pick me up at
the station after term, I always smile inside, but I
also cry. I just know how his relatives treat him. I
wish I could make them understand what it was like for
him, but they probably wouldn't care. I hate them.
He always does kind things for people, and each
thing he does makes me care all the more for him. I
wish I could strangle those people who insult him, those
who think he's always after more and more fame. He
hates his fame!
When Ron and I fight, he always tries to be
neutral. I love him for that.
I love him more and more each day, but I know
he will never feel the same about me. I just can't
compete with people like her.
That's why I have to do it. It's a good thing
Professor Moody taught it to us.
I prepare myself. I want Him to have a good
last picture of me. I change into pure white robes my
parents gave me for my birthday and put white lilies in
my hair. I leave a last goodbye addressed to all I
cared for in this world on my desk. I take my wand,
and whisper those fateful words.
Avada Kedavra.
* * *
The next day, black curtains were hung in the
Great Hall out of respect for Hermione Granger.