I own nothing
"I don't blame you!" She said. Except she did. She really did. And a small part of her felt glad that he felt guilty. But being the person she is, she felt bad that he was feeling bad. Even though she thought he should. He looked instantly relieved at her words. His shoulders relaxed and he appeared a whole lot calmer. It's amazing, what a little lie can do.
And that's all Hermione really does. Lie. She lies that she's fine. She lies to Ron when she tells him she believes in his ability to turn his life around. Hermione lies when she says she misses the 'old days'. Hermione lies to herself when she says she doesn't have a problem. She believes it most days. And on the days she doesn't she pretends to anyway.
She lies to herself and says that the people aren't staring. The stranger's eyes aren't filled with misguided awe and admiration. Hermione was a survivor. A was hero. And the ones closest to her aren't filled with worry and pity. She lies, lies, lies.
She's a liar. Of that much, she's truthful. Even if only to herself.
The war left its scar on everybody. Hermione glanced down at her forearm where underneath her sleeve, her own personalized scar glared up at her. Mudblood. The letters were still red, as if it had happened yesterday. Branded like an animal. Images and memories come flashing back, emotions boiling so deep that Hermione has to turn away. She keeps it covered up. She ignores it.
Ron liked to drink. He wasn't your average drunk, however. He could go months without a drink. Long enough to lure everyone into false hope. But something always set him off and he relapsed. In Ron's intoxicated state, he wasn't violent, emotional, or loopy. He became catatonic. His eyes so dull and vacant that Hermione couldn't stand to look at them. He was only able to lift the bottle to his lips for one more sip.
When these states began, Hermione hadn't known what to do. They were dating at the time and the war was still a sensitive subject. At first, she let him alone. Maybe he just needed space or time. But that space grew too big and the clock was ticking. Hermione tried talking to him, gently coaxing him out of his stupor, but to no avail. One day she got so fed up with him that she slapped him and screamed in his face all the frustration she had been feeling. But when Ron was in a state, nothing could bring him out. And every time he came back to Hermione, she would hope it would be the last time. Every time she prayed he would change.
Every time until it became a routine and she didn't have a relationship left to leave. After she screamed at him, she packed her bags and left.
Lately, Hermione has been trying to pick up the pieces of her life. Broken and jagged however, they always manage to cut her when she reaches for them, leaving her more alone and wary than before.
When life seems most bleak, Hermione tells herself that things will get better. Clouds have a silver lining and good things come to those who wait. She tells herself anything she has to hear to get her through the darkness. Hermione lies.
Really short, I know, but I was hoping to continue this on, work in some Dramione. Should I leave it as a one shot or continue?