Hermione Granger:
I never wanted this all to happen. My life may not have been normal before, but it still wasn't as complex as it is now. When I first came to Hogwarts School of Witchcraft and Wizardry, I expected that I would study hard, earn prominent grades, and leave as an exemplary witch. But my first day actually changed my whole life entirely, when I met Harry Potter. His piercing green eyes might have caught any Muggle's attention, but it was for us wizards who noticed the lightning scar across his forehead. Becoming friends with Harry was sort of like a package deal, in which I had to become friends with Ronald Weasley as well. He wasn't really someone I enjoyed in the first two years I was learning here, but as time went on, I grew quite fond of him.
We had shared many memories together, most of them near-death experiences, but nevertheless he proved to be no more brave than I was. Hardly ever seeing eye to eye, it was one of those situations where we were the last two deformed pieces of the puzzle; vital to the entire operation, and although we didn't necessarily fit perfectly together, we barely managed to come through.
We have few of the same characteristics, but our differences by far overruled. While I spend my days in the library, studying for our upcoming NEWTs, he is at quidditch practice from dawn until dusk, going to sleep immediately afterwards. While I came up with the logical solutions to problems we faced while fighting battles alongside Harry, he tended to linger behind, coming up with quick, hastily put together ideas at the near to last second. I guess he is, in a way, a heroic figure, but he takes too many situations in a care-free manner.
If he was to go down in history, people would remember him for his strong stature and sardonic sense of humor; not for being a hard worker. I, on the other hand, would be remembered for my cleverness and knowledge. Sadly, people tend to remember the more fighting-natured sort, leaving the ones with the brains out of their span of remembrance.
Ron and I are both brave people, earning us our righteous place in the category of those who care deeply for their loved ones. Ron has always wanted to protect both me and Harry from the beginning of first year, no matter how much he may deny it. He tends to cover up his emotional state with unintentionally hurtful jokes, more often than not resulting in somebody's feelings getting crushed.
As it is my sixth year here at Hogwarts, time has somehow allotted me to find a single moment when I started to fancy Ron, which caught me off guard. He is a no good hypocrite and in some points in my life, I wish I had never met him. Nonetheless, my fondness towards him blossomed after a while, growing to become a major issue. I constantly remind myself of the list of reasons why I shouldn't like him (and there are quite a few), but my heart swiftly erases it all from my memory and pulls me back in.
One of the biggest reasons I can't go and tell Ron how I really feel is because he is currently dating Lavender Brown. She never really considered me a friend, more of an acquaintance. She was so attached to Ron that Harry and I were practically forgotten. It didn't bother us though, because Harry had his quidditch practice almost all day and I had more homework than I could process.
It was a bit disturbing though, watching how close Ron and Lavender were. Not only did it make me flush with envy, but it made me disgusted. How could he handle her constantly snogging him? I've yet to see them actually complete a conversation without her interrupting, pulling him in so she could kiss him again. Honestly, it was revolting.
I've grown accustomed to eating only a partial amount of my meal with Harry and Ron, Lavender rushing Ron off only moments later to give him a new necklace or bracelet of some sort. He seemed to be getting slightly annoyed by her, although not admitting verbally to it yet, which made me, in a way, happy. It was an odd feeling of joy, more a sense of victory than anything. It felt like I had finally accomplished a very small step towards Lavender being put out of my way, a start on the road to Ron and I becoming more than just friends.
Sometimes I ponder the thought of rejection, the thought of being humiliated by his crude sense of humor if I were to ever tell him the truth. It made me cringe, as it has many times before, to think of Ron's forbidding jokes. They were innocent, simple, playful banter, but they really could make me think twice about myself. They made me look myself over prudently in the mirror every morning, constantly mow over what I'll say before I speak it, and overall, not wanting to have any exposed flaws open for humiliation. It made me feel insecure about myself, like I'll never be good enough. And that was one of the biggest things I questioned within my mind.
Why do I constantly attempt to impress someone who can never come out and compliment anybody, nor themselves? There were a lot of possibilities on why this was, endless, in fact, and I don't believe I'll ever narrow it down to one sure thing. Unless I ask of course, which is completely out of the question. He'll just laugh and think it's a game, throwing me another one of his insulting comments. It infuriated me how often he'd do that.
I often long for a friend who is a girl, one that could be as close to me as Harry is. I can tell Harry a lot of things, just as I had told him how I felt about Ron the night Gryffindor won their first game with Ron as keeper, Lavender sneaking him off so she could snog him in private. He felt the same towards me, shining a small shade of truth on how he fancied Ginny. We could share secrets with each other without regret or worry of anyone else finding out, but a few things we kept to ourselves, fearing that the other might not understand. We shared a brother and sisterly love.
Ron and I shared the same kind of love, but we were the kind of siblings who always bickered. I grew up as an only child, keeping in my secrets only because I had no one compatible to share them with. He grew up in a large family, keeping in secrets because he had the fear of whomever he told revealing what he'd said to another. Different childhoods raised us up to have an unalike level of openness towards each other now.
I looked across the floor of the Gryffindor common room, seeking for accompaniment. Everyone had already gone to bed, no one in their right mind willing to stay up this late. I, on the other hand, had no choice, unless I would face a bad mark on my classwork. I had procrastinated a few of my essays until the last minute – scolding myself for taking Ron's way of handling things—purely because my mind could not focus on anything longer than a few seconds without wandering off to daydream about the relationship I could never have.
It was a frigid cold Wednesday like any other day this winter, and I was finishing up my Transfigurations essay on the proper way to transform a cat into a bucket. I find it rather irritating we have to write up how to do magic instead of actually performing it, but whatever pleases the teachers is fine by me.
Gingerly, I picked up my finished essay, careful not to smear the ink across the fresh parchment. I smiled, admiring my precise handwriting and intricate details. For last-minute work, it looked like it had been writen weeks in advance.
"Finally," I whispered to myself as I looked up at the clock. I sighed. It was half past twelve. I had hardly gotten a wink of sleep in the past few weeks, getting an overload of homework and tests to study for from each of my advanced course teachers.
Drawling a long yawn, I stretched out in front of the common room fire. It was deserted and quiet, yet serene, as the moonlight shone against the cold wooden floors. I closed my eyes and laid my cheek against the palm of my hand, taking in a deep breath. I was about to fall into a deep sleep when suddenly Ron stormed into the room.
"Hermione!" He roared, barging through the fat ladies portrait.
I sat bolt up, looking over in his direction. Seeing the anger reflecting in his eyes as they fixated themselves upon me, the way his jaw was clamped tightly together, the way he trembled slightly; these were all things Ron did when he was at the verge of his braking point. He has a very low tolerance for quickly arisen problems that affected him in a negative way, his moodiness not a very good contributing factor either. Ron was angry, that was clear, and I knew exactly why.
Earlier that evening, I ran into Lavender as I was heading to Potions. I wasn't looking where I was going, dazed off in another fantasy about Ron, and I knocked her books right out of her hands. Naturally, she was not happy with me, and started cursing me out, saying that I'd done it on purpose.
"Nice job," She sneered sarcastically, folding her arms. I glared into her cynical eyes, disgusted by how she talked to me.
"Sorry," I said inconsiderately, not bothering to assist her in picking up her textbooks. She dropped to her knees, collecting the assortment of papers into one large stack as they had been before. While sorting through a few of her possessions, she looked up at me, clearly annoyed by my presence.
"You know you could help me."
"I know," I snapped, watching her bent down on the floor. She hastily shoved the parchment she was filing to the side, pursing her lips in frustration.
"You are such a stuck-up brat!" Lavender breathed, standing up to look me in the eye. Instead of taking a step backwards, I straightened up, not frightened by her. Actually, her senseless insults made me even more confident in my argument.
"At least I'm not an annoying freak." I hurled back, tilting my head to express fake pity. "Or being cheated on by my 'true love'"
I took in a sharp breath, realizing that I had just told a terrible lie. I watched as Lavender's face shifted from enragement to shock to pure sorrow. Regret replaced the fury inside me as she turned on her heels, running down the hallway, leaving her books strewn across the floor, sobbing deafeningly.
Lamenting the lie the moment I spoke it aloud, I knew that word would come back to Ron about what happened. He would be infuriated, I knew that, and my time had come to face his well-deserved ferocity.
"Yes, what is it?" I asked him curiously, eyebrow raised, pretending to be surprised. I tried to come across as calm and collected, but my tone sounded as if I was being strangled.
"Lavender… She told me what you said." He hissed, not buying my act. "Do you realize what a bloody mess you made? She refuses to talk to me, she thinks it true!"
"I have no idea what you're talking about."
"Of course you do, Hermione, don't try and play innocent. You're just jealous, that's all."
"Jealous? Jealous of what? You… You and Lavender?" I strained my voice to sound like I wasn't envying their relationship, but obviously I'm better at writing essays then speaking a lie to my best friend's face.
"Yes, that's exactly what you're jealous of. Everyone knows it, Hermione. Don't try to act like it's not true. You're in love with me, and not one person could convince me you're not."
My heart skipped a beat. Did he really find out that I fancy him? Who told him? If no one told him, why would he even think that? Is it really that obvious? A million questions were flooding into my mind about this, but I couldn't make any noise. I opened my mouth, and then closed it. I didn't want to seem stupid. Ron must have thought the situation was awkward too, because he looked down at the floor. When he looked back up though, the fire within his eyes had returned.
"Why did you tell Lavender that I was cheating on her? Who am I supposed to be cheating on her with? Why do you even have the urge to tell her that! To ruin my life? To ruin hers? You think you're so high above everyone, Hermione, but you really need to come back to earth, because when you take away your brains, you have nothing." He said this with a look of disgust on his face. Rage boiled up inside of me. How dare he jump to conclusions like that! Before I could even stop myself, I came right back at him with some hatred of my own.
"You, Ron, are the most stuck up and arrogant person I've ever met. You do nothing but sit around and wait for other people to do the work for you." The words came rushing out of my mouth and just kept on coming. Everything I had been holding inside of me over the past six years was finally being unleashed.
"Why am I even your friend? Oh right, because Harry is a good person who I want to be friends with, and you just happen to be with him all the time. You're like Malfoy. A stupid, snobby, careless little—" When I compared him to Malfoy, he just couldn't take it anymore. He raised his hand and it came across the side of my face. A mix of devastation, shock, and fear washed over me. My cheek burned, and I grasped it tightly. I stared, for a few seconds, at the wall, taking in what had just happened. Slowly, I turned to look back at his face, which was now filled with pure horror.
"Her- Hermione… I don't… I don't…" He stammered aimlessly, but I didn't have time for that. I was about to burst into tears at any given moment. Not because of the pain, but because of everything I had just done. I pushed passed him, ran through the fat lady's portrait, and fled down the stairs. I heard Ron running after me, but the thought of having to look him in the eyes and hear him apologize was just too much.
I heard another set of footsteps as well, more densely packed than Ron's, heading towards me from behind. Their walk was almost familiar to a duck waddle— short, incremented steps— but whoever it was had a quick pace, that was certain. I sped mine up to be one stride ahead of theirs, knowing that getting caught out of bed at a time like this would mean at least a weeks' worth of detention. I ducked around corners and didn't bother to take out my wand, my eyes adjusted to the dimly lit halls.
The sudden sound of metal crashing together echoed down the halls, making me stop in my tracks. The harsh ring of the clatter finally faded off into silence. No more footsteps. No more people. No more Ron. I breathed a sigh of relief, leaning against the wall. I noticed that I was trembling, palms sweaty, my wand almost slipping out of my grasp.
"Who's there?" I heard a voice ask to no one in particular. My head snapped in the direction of whoever was talking, presumably the one who had just been chasing me. Every muscle in my body tensed.
"Student out of bed!" They cried, making me jump backwards in fear. I took off in the opposite direction, knowing that I was done for. I'd get caught, taken to Professor Dumbledore, have so many house points taken from Gryffindor… But then an odd realization came to mind: the footsteps were running away from me. I didn't have to wonder about why though, I was determined on escaping the grasps of trouble.
I broke into a sprint and kept going until I came to the girl's lavatory. I opened the door and closed it shut tightly, slamming my back against the wall. Sliding down to the floor, I buried my face in my hands. Why had I been such an idiot? I'm not one to lose my temper easily, nor was Ron. I had absolutely no chance with him now.
I wanted to start over. I wanted to go back to before I had lied to Lavender, this time being the better person and helping her with her textbooks. Life would be so much simpler, in fact, if I could go back to before I started to fancy Ron. I could tell myself everything I know now, and this would have never happened. Everything would be as it should; Harry and Ron playing quidditch while I studied contently, no heartbreaks causing tension.
If only I still had my time-turner, then I could actually fix everything, not just fantasize about it. If only I hadn't given it back to Professor McGonagall after third year. If only I hadn't been so stupid. And so easy it would have been, too, if I had kept it. Just a few turns back…
I had to realize the truth, though. I couldn't go back in time. I couldn't fix anything. What had been done was done, and Ron would remember it forever. Even if he were to forgive me and act like it never occurred, he would always remember it in the very back of his mind. That small quarrel we had would cause him a life-time of rethinking me.
My choked sobs came out muffled, my hands covering my mouth. I tried to be completely silent so nobody would find me. I really didn't want company at the moment. No one else would understand how devastated I was. I leaned my head back and closed my eyes, the tears that stained my face reflecting in the small ray of moonlight coming from the windows. I had to continue in the time that was now.
(a/n): Well, that's the end of the first chapter. This is my first fan fiction so I realize this isn't very long or interesting quite yet... But trust me, I have a lot of ideas in store. If you guys review and find this okay, I have the second installment ready to go. This time in Draco's point of view, a tad bit more suspenseful than Hermione's. I desperately tried to sort out any grammar mistakes but if you happen to find one, tell me.
So, I believe that's it. Read and review! Thank you guys!