Want:
Rain was pelting the window mercilessly and the thunder seemed to make the very foundations of the castle shudder with every blow. Inside, the fire of Gryffindor common room was more welcoming than ever. That, and the comforts provided by the armchair Hermione was nestled in, should have made the evening all the more pleasant. Unfortunately for her, Ron and Harry were nattering rather loudly on the sofa next to her. She shouldn't have been bothered- correction- she wouldn't have been bothered if it weren't for the fact that Ron was still going on about his latest crush.
It wasn't as though she cared whose throat Ron wanted to stick his tongue down, she didn't care in the least, it was simply the fact that he wouldn't shut up about her. In the morning, in the evening, during lessons, on trips to Hogsmeade- it didn't matter where they were, what time it was or what they were supposed to be doing, he always found a way to bring the conversation round to her. By now, Hermione was half tempted to brew some amortentia and get her to fall in love with him if it at least kept him quiet for a minute.
Of course, Harry didn't help either. He insisted on indulging Ron- according to him it was better that Ron get it out of his system otherwise he would go on pining over her forever, but Hermione disagreed. If you wanted to be with someone you asked them, and if they said no you get over it- it was simple and Ron was just being ridiculous.
Some part of her felt like just ignoring it, but another part of her seemed to fester on the matter, growing steadily more agitated every time that he uttered her name. It wasn't like she could just avoid him, though, his crush could last for months and avoiding Ron most assuredly meant avoiding Harry too, which was unthinkable.
Oh well, she thought, she would just have to tolerate it for the time being.
That morning Hermione was too engrossed in reading ahead in her transfiguration textbook to notice that Ron had hardly touched his food. It wasn't until he let out a heavy sigh that she even realised he was at the table.
"Oh, morning Ron. I didn't see you there."
"Isn't she gorgeous?" He sighed, not taking his transfixed eyes from the Ravenclaw he was so enamoured with. Her name was Melody. She was nice enough from what Hermione had heard, although she had never personally interacted with her.
"You're not still going to talk about her? Honestly, you must have exhausted every adjective under the sun already to describe her."
"Hermione she's perfect!"
"I know. I know more about her than I do about ancient runes thanks to you. What I don't understand is why you don't just ask her out on a date, already?"
"Nah, nah. You don't know what you're talking about. It isn't that simple. She's- she's like a goddess. I can't just ask her out on a date- I don't even know what I'd say." Ron shook his head, looking almost affronted that she suggest he talk to her.
"Well, you seem perfectly poetic when you're talking to me and Harry about her. Just introduce yourself and then tell her that you think she's wonderful. At least talk to her. You may find that she's far more down to earth than you think."
"You don't get it. It's just not how it's done. A guy can't just ask out a girl, especially when she's hot. If she weren't so bloody perfect it wouldn't be a problem." He went back to staring dreamily at the Ravenclaw.
An amused smile materialised oh Hermione's face despite herself; he had his elbow resting on the toast that occupied his plate he was so distracted. "Do you want me to do it for you?"
"What?" He asked, only half turning to Hermione.
She rolled her eyes. "Would you like me to set up a date with her for you?"
Ron turned round fully then and Hermione thought he looked like he was about to laugh. At the very least his expression was sceptical. "No offense 'Mione but you're not really the best person to help out in this situation, are you?"
Hermione's eyes flashed imperiously at the red haired boy. "What is that supposed to mean exactly?"
Ron bowed his head a little sheepishly but still didn't seem to think before he almost apologetically blurted out- "Well, you don't have that much experience with relationships do you."
"And how would you know?"
"Well, I just mean- Compared to other-" He stuttered.
"Compared to what? Other girls? So you think I lack the experience to convey to another girl that you like her? It isn't rocket science- though if it were then I certainly would be better than you at it. And you're just assuming that I couldn't possibly have had any relationships because what- because I'm a swot? Is that it? Because of my bushy hair? Or because I'm too bossy?"
"I never said that!"
"That's precisely what you're saying by making assumptions, Ronald!"
"'Mione, don't be like that."
"I'll be how I like, thank you very much." She said venomously, lifting her things from the table and heading towards the entrance of the great hall.
Honestly, that blockheaded, insufferable, twit! Did he ever think about the weight of his words? And why did he just assume that she didn't have any experience with relationships? She certainly knew more about girls than he did. Couldn't he just have politely declined instead of being a complete arse!
In her haste to flee the thoughtless drivel that seemed to fester around Ron she bumped into Harry, who was just making his way down to breakfast, and dropped some of her textbooks. "Whoa, sorry! Oh, Hermione- you're in a hurry." Then he looked up into her face, which still carried the angry residue of her spat with the red haired boy. "Hermione, what's wrong?" He asked, helping to pick up her books.
"Nothing, Harry- I'm fine. Just- just go get breakfast quickly, before lessons start!" Harry nodded helplessly in reply and scurried past her, casting a couple of concerned glances back as he went to get a seat.
"What did you say this time?" He asked, raising an eyebrow at Ron as he somewhat moodily stuffed his face.
"Nuffin!" He cried.
Harry shook his head.
For the next week she refused to speak to him. She wasn't entirely sure it was rational because he hadn't explicitly said that she couldn't get a date, he hadn't meant to hurt her feelings. But he had. Because she could see it when he said she wasn't the right person to ask. She could see the way he was laughing, thinking that she was clueless, thinking she didn't know anything about relationships.
Just because she didn't gush about her crushes the way Ron did didn't mean she knew nothing.
Just because she wasn't a "goddess" like Melony didn't exclude her from being dateable. She had plenty of pleasing attributes. She just wished Ron could see that.
Well- no. Not that way. She didn't want Ron to think of her like that but… Well she just wished he would realise that there were more things to consider when looking for a girlfriend or boyfriend. She, for example, wanted someone funny, and interesting, and complimentary, and supportive. And what did Ron want? Melony. And why did he want her? Because she's a goddess, she's perfect, she's the most beautiful creature I've ever seen 'Mione! But what else did he know about her? Nothing. And therein lay the problem; how could he know nothing about Melony and everything about her and not even consider that someone could have found her attractive, that she could have relationship experience. It was just insulting! All she wanted was for him to see that there was more to her than books and cleverness, and maybe even come to find her intelligence as something other than bothersome. She just wanted him to stop being so- so ignorant and shallow!
That was all she wanted.
Nothing else.
She sat down beside him in the common room later that day. The misunderstanding was forgotten. Their friendship was more important at the end of the day. Even if it felt like a drill was driving further and further into her head when he spoke about the pretty Ravenclaw. Even if it felt like a stake was being driven into her every time he smiled at the mention of the girl. Even if it felt like a swarm of bees were being rattled in her belly every time his arm brushed hers…
Even though that's not what she wanted. Right?
"What do you want?" Inquired a snobbish voice.
Hermione had been thinking about that a lot lately. What did she want? There were some things that she had wanted for as long as she could remember like a brilliant education that would lead to rewarding job prospects. There were some things she had wanted since she had entered the magical world such as rights for house elves and the erosion of boundaries between the pureblood elite and muggle-borns. And then there were things that she had only just begun to consider worth her time, like her friendship with Harry and Ron and perhaps, at some point, someone to share her vision of the future with.
"I said what do you want?" Came the snobbish voice again. Hermione shook herself out of her stupor and looked down at the pretty girl in her blue robes.
"Um…" She started, still weighted, as she had been for a while, by the prospect of the future, and what it was that she hoped to get out of it.
"Um…?" Teased the girl, earning a peal of laughter from the other girls round her. "Well, spit it out!"
Hermione blushed furiously. "A friend of mine would rather like to get to know you, and, seeing as we share classes I agreed to breach the gap." She said, rather bluntly and restrainedly. Honestly, this girl was so haughty, what could Ron possibly see in her?
"Oh right. Granger isn't it?" Hermione went to affirm the question but was cut off by an impatient swipe of the girl's hand. "You're friends with Potter and the red head. So which one is it that could possibly like little old me?" The swarm of girls giggled again.
"It's-"
"No!" She interjected agitatedly. "I'll figure it out for myself. Potter seems more my type. But then, being famous and all, he has more self-esteem than to get another girl to make an advance. I've never really interacted with the red-head…"
"Ron." Hermione atoned.
The girl's mouth twitched into an irritated smile. "Yes, Ron. Well, he seems more likely to have sent his pet to win his battles for him."
"I beg your pardon?" She said, her anger barely in check.
"You heard what I said. And that response merely proves that you're his little guard dog. Oh look at your little fuming face! So loyal! It's adorable."
"You know what, I retract the statement. He wouldn't like you at all." Hermione asserted, ready to walk away and forget the whole thing.
"That's one possibility." Said Melony, she then smirked and raised one perfectly shaped eyebrow. "Or perhaps you just wish he liked you better?"
Hermione bristled, her whole body seeming to swell with angry magic- but only for a second. The foul girl really wasn't worth that kind of hate. "No. I merely wish to keep my friends away from bad company." She smiled bitterly before walking off. She didn't want to hear any more of what Melony had to say.
Suddenly she was very glad that Ron hadn't decided to come over himself. She would have to let him down gently of course but he would understand if she phrased it nicely. He would come to realise that she wasn't worth his attention, no matter how pretty she was, because after interacting with her Hermione assumed that was her only commendable feature.
"Uh, Hermione? Are you ok?"
"Harry, you have got to stop asking me that. Like I told you the last hundred times you asked: I'm fine."
"It's just that you don't sound fine. And I mean I know Ron-"
She cut him off. "What about Ron, Harry? I barely even see him since he started following Melony around," Distaste clouded her voice and her pen flashed across the page vehemently. "And quite frankly I'm just glad I no longer have to hear about her."
"But don't you think she's a little…" Harry trailed off searching for a word before spotting Ron walking their way.
Hermione, however, didn't notice and decided to fill in the blank. "Cold? Pretentious? Scheming? She could be all of those things for all I care."
"Hermione." Harry whispered, nudging her as Ron came into earshot.
She kept her head down scribbling with lightning efficiency as she continued her strain of thought. "I mean, Ronald has the right to stick his tongue down whoever's throat he pleases, just because she happens to be a rude, inconsiderate, elitist…jerk in her spare time doesn't mean we have a right to impede on his newfound happiness."
"No. You don't." Came Ron's voice. His ears were turning red.
Hermione froze.
"And she isn't like that. Just 'cause you're jealous that I managed to get her without your so-called help and you can't even get anyone to talk to you besides me and Harry doesn't mean you get to insult Melony."
"Jealous!" She seethed, though she kept her head down, unwilling to even look at him. Her pen nearly snapped as the word left her.
"Yeah. That's how you've been acting. Honestly, it's like you've gone loopy."
"Ron!" Harry warned. As always, he saw and understood more of what Hermione was feeling than the youngest Weasley boy.
Hermione looked up at her friend across the table. An eerily calm smile occupied her face and her voice was suddenly simmering. "No, no Harry, let him speak his mind. I want to hear what he has to say."
Oblivious to the menace in her voice, Ron continued his complaint. "What are you so jealous about anyway? Just because I've found someone else who likes me, someone else to spend time with? It's bad enough you lying to me about her, but lying to yourself about how lonely you are? That's just sad."
The smile on Hermione's face grew in size and venom as he spoke. The fire behind her eyes sent a chill down Harry's spine. When she stood he thought that she might punch him or hex him in some form or other. Somehow her cordial "See you later Harry," and collected departure was so much worse.
Understanding. That was all she wanted. At least that's what she thought she wanted. If she was being honest she wasn't really sure anymore. But it didn't matter because what she needed right now was just somewhere away from Ron, somewhere she could collect her thoughts and get over his stupidity. So as she paced in front of the Room of Requirement that's what materialised; a quaint, comfortable room with a large navy sofa, a roaring fireplace and, best of all, a well-stocked book shelf.
She had read about the elusive room while doing a bit of light reading one day and had set out to find it merely to satisfy her curiosity. What she had discovered, however, was better than anything she could have imagined. A quiet room, warm and comfortable. A place to study without pause. A place to practice spells safely and unhindered. And, as of late, a place to hide.
It had become routine to go there when she needed some peace. As far as she was aware nobody else knew where the room was so she came to find the place increasingly accommodating. Of course it always knew what she wanted and always provided exactly that. She had started coming so often that she could have navigated the room blindfolded, in fact. However, as Hermione made herself comfortable in her hideaway, nestling into the sofa whilst she pulled out a book on the applications of trolls' spit in advanced potion making, a new object caught her eye.
There, in the corner of the room, covered by a tarp, and half hidden in darkness, was an unknown addition to the furniture.
Curiosity pulled her up and set her book aside. It then curled its fingers invitingly towards the large shape, coercing a tentative step out of Hermione each time it did so. As she drew nearer anticipation made her stomach curl too. She then curled her fingers round the tarp, it was freezing and yet tingled her hand with magical energy. She almost didn't pull it. There was something odd about the way the magic beckoned her. It was far too…chilling and yet, far too…comforting and altogether, far too…alluring. She almost didn't pull it.
But she did, because who wouldn't.
And when she did, her breath caught in her throat.
"Hello." Said the boy in the mirror.
