Authors Note: Okay, so this new story is something that I've been working on for a few months, so that means this story is almost complete. I have almost all the chapters complete and they need to be revised so the chapters will be published as soon as they're revised and checked over.
Pantomime: (noun) the art or technique of conveying emotions, actions, feelings, etc., by gestures without speech. Significant gesture without speech.
Hermione Granger was used to being over looked. When she was a child, all the children used to make fun of her because she was hooked on books and they were hooked on jungle gyms and treats. She didn't begrudge them their fun, as long as they didn't bother her, she was fine. The loneliness wasn't a problem, not until she met a boy, a boy with hypnotizing eyes of emerald.
This friendship that bloomed from the very first time they met on a train and took off from the moment he jumped on a troll's back to save her; it seemed it was fate that brought them together. Their lives tangled in a sweet mess of successions perfectly synchronized.
Throughout their years of friendship, she thought she knew him completely, and she thought that she couldn't ever capture his eyes like a redheaded girl they knew so well. It wasn't that Hermione could be less than anyone else or couldn't succeed on owning his heart. It was the fact that he never showed any interest in her the way she would've liked and before she could make a fool of herself walking up to him and pour out her fragile heart, Hermione decided to draw back, convinced that it was for the best. Letting go seemed the best way to move on. So she tried to fall for another, a boy with hair of spun fire, a boy who made her laugh; but nonetheless a boy whose kisses felt like those of a brother, who shouldn't even care enough for her to try and understand their different hobbies despite all the years they've known each other; that redhead so insecure of himself that he felt the need to compete even against her, sometimes to the point of crushing her own expectations.
So she broke up with him, and the boy with emerald eyes watched in sadness that his friend tried to hide her pain. He thought she truly loved the boy with red hair, so he let her go, he did nothing at all.
He watched as she hid behind her books and logic, and she didn't see the pain that was concealed in his eyes. It was a tough few months for them. He almost told her, he almost said those three words….but a cup of tea was his folly, never having the courage to confront himself with his own heart, never knowing how to approach a girl.
And when she confessed her love, she decided she was done with it. Done trying to get Harry Potter to notice her. To notice the depth of her love for him. To her it seemed like it was never enough, like whatever happened she would always be taken for granted. She remembered another boy, a boy with an accent and a strong nose and jaw. A boy who asked her to a ball once upon a time. So she packed away her things and told her friends she was leaving. The boy with the emerald eyes, appalled to this sudden revelation, pleaded to escort his best friend to the airport. She acquiesces, she thinks, he'll be the last face she sees and she'll cherish it for as long as she's away. He'll be the face of her past and her first love. She knows she can learn to love again.
When it was time to board the plane, he tugged her into one last firm hug, having trouble letting her go, sniffling into her now not-so-messy chestnut hair. He kisses her brow and masks his sadness away. She craved that hug. She let herself be swept away in the firmness of his body, in his manly scent one last time. And she left.
He let her run to Bulgaria. He watched her get on a plane and fly away.
"I'll miss you Hermione…" he whispers as the plane flies away, and he walked away, to the Burrow where his young girlfriend awaited him.