Reflection
by Wing'dCallisto
Disclaimer: Harry Potter is J.K. Rowling's creation, but they're owned by Warner Brothers. (Evil multi million dollar corporations...) Michelle Branch owns herself, and the words and music for 'Goodbye to You'.
Author's Note: I hoped you like this. It was really just a 'spur of the moment' kind of story-- well, the idea was, at least. It took me two hours to write/edit/look up lyrics for this song. Lyrics, by the way, are from 'Goodbye to You' by Michelle Branch. Gorgeous song. ... Oh, and I'm fully aware that Hermione is COMPLETELY OOC. Well, maybe not COMPLETELY, but she's not particularly in character either. I guess I wanted to look at her from an entirely different point of view. I mean, emotionally, we see very little from her. She's always logical and (mostly) levelheaded.
Summary: On the eve of their Graduation from Hogwarts, Hermione wonders if she's found what she's looking for.
--------------------------**
[Of all the things I've believed in
I just want to get it over with]
God, the days stretch on. Like a piece of chewing gum, they gradually lengthen and lose their flavour. Eventually, you end up right back where you started.
In this case, I have not moved ahead. I have not gotten any closer to my goal. Like the wizard chess he loves to play, I've moved one step forward and two steps back.
Harry had asked me out at the beginning of sixth year, and I'd seriously considered turning him down. I love Harry dearly, but not in that way. He's like the brother I never had, which, in a way, is a dream come true. I've always wanted a brother. But I've also wanted someone to love me, and that's the only dream of mine that hasn't come true.
Outwardly, I seem happy enough. The smart, admired head girl, hanging off the arm of one of the most popular students in the school.
[Tears form behind my eyes
But I do not cry
Counting the days that pass me by]
And now we're nearing the end of seventh year. It's been a long journey, you all understand-- not just for me, but for Harry and Ron, too. As a wise man once said, 'It's like going to bed at the end of a long, long day.' This feeling, it's like a sunset, too. The end of a day, the end of an era. I love this place, and they've been the best years of my life-- full of emotion. Crazy, untamed emotion. Not just happiness, but sadness, love, fear, anger, contentment. The full spectrum, plus a thousand more.
When I was asked, as head girl and top student, to say the speech at our graduation, I didn't know what to say. It was an honour for me, of course, but I didn't want to do it. Because the staff wanted me to talk about my goals, my dreams, my hopes, my achievements. In the scheme of things, I hadn't achieved much. When I looked at myself in the mirror, I didn't see someone I was proud of. I saw a cliche and a failure.
[I've been searching deep down in my soul
Words that I'm hearing are starting to get old]
But on our day of graduation, I went and stood at the podium. I looked over the sea of students, dressed in the black robes that were our uniform. I saw my parents, sitting at the back. They smiled at me, and I smiled back. I searched the crowd for Ron. He was there, sitting next to Harry and Lavender, staring back at me intently, waiting for what I was going to say.
[It feels like I'm starting all over again
The last three years were just pretend
And I said...]
'It doesn't seem like seven years ago that I arrived here.' I said, standing up straight and smiling at the sea of students, exposing my even, white teeth. God, I could still remember when that cow-- Pansy Parkinson-- caused them to grow, and grow, and Harry and Ron came and stood up for me.
'But it has been seven years-- years which, I am proud to say, were the best of my life. I know, as I stand here, on the eve of our graduation, that I'll never quite feel the same after I've left Hogwarts.
'I've overheard some of you talk about me, you know. To some of you, I'm still just that bushy-haired "mudblood".' I used my fingers to insert the quotation marks. A few of the teachers shot me nervous stares once they heard me say it, and many of the students looked at each other in horror.
'To some of you, I'm still the person who helps you with your homework, who wrote all your notes for you...' my eyes lingered on Ron and Harry for a moment. '... and that's all I'll ever be to you.'
[Goodbye to you
Goodbye to everything I thought I knew
You were the one I loved
The one thing that I tried to hold on to]
I continue speaking. I talk, for a long time, about growing up. I quote famous poets and authors, explaining how they related to my own life. Not that any of these words has much meaning behind them. They're all thin, thin like air, containing little substance. It's almost like I'm filtering through my memories, sifting through and keeping the ones that mean something. The ones with substance. I especially treasure the ones with Ron.
I don't say that, though.
[I still get lost in your eyes
And it seems that I can't live a day without you
Closing my eyes and you chase my thoughts away]
'I wonder where I'll end up, ten or twelve years in the future. It's something I wonder a lot about, these days. I wonder if I'll have a family. If I'll have a good, safe, secure job. When I was younger, I didn't think about these things. Such thoughts didn't occur to me. I took my time for granted. And now I wish I'd cherished it. It's gone now, and it seems so fleeting.
'I just want to thank everyone here for making these years the most memorable of my life.'
And I pause, looking through the huge arched windows that line the eastern wall of the Great Hall. The late afternoon sunshine is pouring through them, and I see the shimmering dust motes softly float there. I want to float. I want to fly.
[To a place where I am blinded by the light
But it's not right]
I turn from the podium and quietly retrieve my seat, between Professors Flitwick and Sinistra. Neither of them say anything to me, but Flitwick gives me a warm smile from atop the books he's sitting on. I don't hear the applause that's echoing around the Great Hall. Rather, I gaze at the twisted parchment I wrote my speech on. Then I look up again and smile.
Smile, I think, stretching out my lips. Then I can't keep up the charade any longer and I let the mask slip.
[Goodbye to you
Goodbye to everything I thought I knew
You were the one I loved
The one thing that I tried to hold on to]
'You were excellent, 'Mione!' says Harry as we walk back to our common room. He wraps his arm around my waist and kisses my forehead. I smile again, but it feels plastic and unreal. I learnt to control my feelings a long time ago. While I'm still outspoken on Elf Rights and school issues, I've realised that what I feel and what I talk about should remain seperate.
'Where's Ron?' I ask, cutting Harry off in the middle of a sentence. He looks hurt, but I only half-notice it. I hadn't even been listening to what he was talking about anyway. 'I didn't see him after the ceremony-- him and Lavender better have not disappeared off somewhere.' I continue, absentmindedly taking off the head girl badge pinned to the outside of my robes. The pin, sharp and unmerciful, digs into my palm. I ignore the pain, the trickling blood, and discreetly wipe it away on my robes.
'Well, he said him and Lavender were sneaking out early.'
[And it hurts to want everything and nothing at the same time
I want what's yours and I want what's mine]
I pretend not to let this news bother me. I know that if I think it enough, repeat it over and over, it won't bother me at all. I can't help but wonder if I'll be the woman who sits at her desk and writes the love letter, only to realise that it's too late.
[I want you
But I'm not giving in this time]
We reach the Fat Lady and give the password. She swings forward to admit us, and for the last time we climb through the wall and re-emerge in our world. Our home, for the past seven years. The only place I've ever felt like I belonged in.
Ron and Lavender are sitting over on the window-seat, gazing down at the grounds, talking in low whispers. They see us enter but do not register it in their expressions. I smile, even though my lips feel so dry and cracked, and I wave, even though my hand is aching with the pain of the cut.
Neville, Ginny and a few other sixth-years are sitting in the best armchairs by the fire, talking, laughing and reminicing. Occasionally, Ginny glances over at Harry. She looks like me. The light in her eyes has gone out.
[Goodbye to you
Goodbye to everything I thought I knew
You were the one I loved
The one thing that I tried to hold on to]
'I'm going to bed.' I say to Harry, and kiss him goodnight. Slowly, I trudge up to bed, trying to come to terms with what I've lost. Trying to come to terms with what I'll never have. So many wasted opportunities, so many lost dreams. I call goodnight to Ron, and Lavender, and Neville and Ginny.
Ginny follows me to the bottom of the staircase, and she puts a hand on my shoulder. I turn around to face her, quickly rearranging my features into one of confusion.
'I know exactly how you feel, Hermione.' she whispers to me and looks over at Harry. He's gone to talk to Ron and Lavender, and they're laughing and joking. They look like it's them who have been the best friends all along, and I was just... another person. Not even worth recognition.
'We'll talk on the train tomorrow, okay, Ginny?' I say finally. I'm not prepared to divulge my feelings to her, even if she is my closest girl friend, but she seems to understand. She gives me a hug.
'I know he feels the same as you, Hermione, he just can't show it.'
[The one thing that I tried to hold on to...]
I awake in the middle of the night from a nightmare. I can't recall any of the images, but I feel like I've run a marathon and I'm covered in sweat. I'm breathing in quick, fast gulps, and I try to calm down. But I'm shaking.
I fear that I'll wake the others up. So I softly get out of bed and walk down to the common room. The fire is still going, the dying embers glowing gold and crimson. I sink down on my knees in front of it and hold my hands before the warmth. I shiver again, examining the cut on my left hand. I could heal it, easily. A few simple words and I wouldn't have to experience the pain from it anymore.
'Couldn't sleep?' it's Ron. He comes downstairs, and I quickly get to my feet and turn around, blushing.
'Uh, yes, I had a nightmare.' I say, shaking my head. 'Don't let me disturb you-- I was just about to go back to bed.' I start to make my way back towards the staircase.
'Hermione, don't be stupid.' Ron rolls his eyes. 'What are you so scared of, anyway? You think you know everything. Prove to me you do, go on!'
'I'm going to bed,' I snap, tossing my hair haughtily. 'Leave me alone, Ron, I don't want to talk to you.'
And he stands in the middle of the room, in his too-short maroon pyjamas, staring at me with this look on his face that I've never seen before in my life.
[And when the stars fall...]
'I don't want you to go through life without knowing, Hermione.' he says. And it's such an out-of-character-thing for him to say that I snort. But he doesn't laugh back. In fact, his ears have started to go red, and I wonder what he's about to say.
'You...' he takes a deep breath. 'Thanks, Hermione, for being you.' he mutters, looking at the ground. Then he leans forward and kisses me. It's not like a kiss that I'd share with Harry, which, to me, always seems fake and pre-rehearsed. This kiss is like... oh, I don't know, something unexpected but beautiful.
Like a falling star, or a sunshower.
We break apart, and we're both blushing. 'That's what I've been trying to tell you for the past few years.' he's smiling nervously. 'I mean, if you don't want to, then I completely understand, but... oh, God, I'm an idiot...'
'But that's exactly what I've been trying to tell you!' I stifle a giggle. Suddenly, I feel my lips lift, and I smile-- a real smile.
Our hands brush; it's like electricity is running through my veins. Pulsating and alive.
'I should... probably get to bed.' I say, finally, reluctant to let the moment go. Ron takes my hand and for a moment I just stare at it. I feel the cut on my palm throb, but I don't mind anymore. It's no longer an uncomfortable pain, but it's more like a meaningful pain, a pain that has a reason.
Love has a reason.
'Goodnight, Hermione.' says Ron quietly, and we make our way back up to our respective bedrooms. When I enter the dorm, I hear the soft snores of the other girls; moonlight falls on their faces, sharpening their features.
[I will lie awake]
Before I go to bed, I glance at myself in the mirror. I don't see Hermione Granger, head girl, muggle-born, top student, Elf Rights Campaigner.
I see a girl who has finally found what she's looking for.
[You're my shooting star...]
by Wing'dCallisto
Disclaimer: Harry Potter is J.K. Rowling's creation, but they're owned by Warner Brothers. (Evil multi million dollar corporations...) Michelle Branch owns herself, and the words and music for 'Goodbye to You'.
Author's Note: I hoped you like this. It was really just a 'spur of the moment' kind of story-- well, the idea was, at least. It took me two hours to write/edit/look up lyrics for this song. Lyrics, by the way, are from 'Goodbye to You' by Michelle Branch. Gorgeous song. ... Oh, and I'm fully aware that Hermione is COMPLETELY OOC. Well, maybe not COMPLETELY, but she's not particularly in character either. I guess I wanted to look at her from an entirely different point of view. I mean, emotionally, we see very little from her. She's always logical and (mostly) levelheaded.
Summary: On the eve of their Graduation from Hogwarts, Hermione wonders if she's found what she's looking for.
--------------------------**
[Of all the things I've believed in
I just want to get it over with]
God, the days stretch on. Like a piece of chewing gum, they gradually lengthen and lose their flavour. Eventually, you end up right back where you started.
In this case, I have not moved ahead. I have not gotten any closer to my goal. Like the wizard chess he loves to play, I've moved one step forward and two steps back.
Harry had asked me out at the beginning of sixth year, and I'd seriously considered turning him down. I love Harry dearly, but not in that way. He's like the brother I never had, which, in a way, is a dream come true. I've always wanted a brother. But I've also wanted someone to love me, and that's the only dream of mine that hasn't come true.
Outwardly, I seem happy enough. The smart, admired head girl, hanging off the arm of one of the most popular students in the school.
[Tears form behind my eyes
But I do not cry
Counting the days that pass me by]
And now we're nearing the end of seventh year. It's been a long journey, you all understand-- not just for me, but for Harry and Ron, too. As a wise man once said, 'It's like going to bed at the end of a long, long day.' This feeling, it's like a sunset, too. The end of a day, the end of an era. I love this place, and they've been the best years of my life-- full of emotion. Crazy, untamed emotion. Not just happiness, but sadness, love, fear, anger, contentment. The full spectrum, plus a thousand more.
When I was asked, as head girl and top student, to say the speech at our graduation, I didn't know what to say. It was an honour for me, of course, but I didn't want to do it. Because the staff wanted me to talk about my goals, my dreams, my hopes, my achievements. In the scheme of things, I hadn't achieved much. When I looked at myself in the mirror, I didn't see someone I was proud of. I saw a cliche and a failure.
[I've been searching deep down in my soul
Words that I'm hearing are starting to get old]
But on our day of graduation, I went and stood at the podium. I looked over the sea of students, dressed in the black robes that were our uniform. I saw my parents, sitting at the back. They smiled at me, and I smiled back. I searched the crowd for Ron. He was there, sitting next to Harry and Lavender, staring back at me intently, waiting for what I was going to say.
[It feels like I'm starting all over again
The last three years were just pretend
And I said...]
'It doesn't seem like seven years ago that I arrived here.' I said, standing up straight and smiling at the sea of students, exposing my even, white teeth. God, I could still remember when that cow-- Pansy Parkinson-- caused them to grow, and grow, and Harry and Ron came and stood up for me.
'But it has been seven years-- years which, I am proud to say, were the best of my life. I know, as I stand here, on the eve of our graduation, that I'll never quite feel the same after I've left Hogwarts.
'I've overheard some of you talk about me, you know. To some of you, I'm still just that bushy-haired "mudblood".' I used my fingers to insert the quotation marks. A few of the teachers shot me nervous stares once they heard me say it, and many of the students looked at each other in horror.
'To some of you, I'm still the person who helps you with your homework, who wrote all your notes for you...' my eyes lingered on Ron and Harry for a moment. '... and that's all I'll ever be to you.'
[Goodbye to you
Goodbye to everything I thought I knew
You were the one I loved
The one thing that I tried to hold on to]
I continue speaking. I talk, for a long time, about growing up. I quote famous poets and authors, explaining how they related to my own life. Not that any of these words has much meaning behind them. They're all thin, thin like air, containing little substance. It's almost like I'm filtering through my memories, sifting through and keeping the ones that mean something. The ones with substance. I especially treasure the ones with Ron.
I don't say that, though.
[I still get lost in your eyes
And it seems that I can't live a day without you
Closing my eyes and you chase my thoughts away]
'I wonder where I'll end up, ten or twelve years in the future. It's something I wonder a lot about, these days. I wonder if I'll have a family. If I'll have a good, safe, secure job. When I was younger, I didn't think about these things. Such thoughts didn't occur to me. I took my time for granted. And now I wish I'd cherished it. It's gone now, and it seems so fleeting.
'I just want to thank everyone here for making these years the most memorable of my life.'
And I pause, looking through the huge arched windows that line the eastern wall of the Great Hall. The late afternoon sunshine is pouring through them, and I see the shimmering dust motes softly float there. I want to float. I want to fly.
[To a place where I am blinded by the light
But it's not right]
I turn from the podium and quietly retrieve my seat, between Professors Flitwick and Sinistra. Neither of them say anything to me, but Flitwick gives me a warm smile from atop the books he's sitting on. I don't hear the applause that's echoing around the Great Hall. Rather, I gaze at the twisted parchment I wrote my speech on. Then I look up again and smile.
Smile, I think, stretching out my lips. Then I can't keep up the charade any longer and I let the mask slip.
[Goodbye to you
Goodbye to everything I thought I knew
You were the one I loved
The one thing that I tried to hold on to]
'You were excellent, 'Mione!' says Harry as we walk back to our common room. He wraps his arm around my waist and kisses my forehead. I smile again, but it feels plastic and unreal. I learnt to control my feelings a long time ago. While I'm still outspoken on Elf Rights and school issues, I've realised that what I feel and what I talk about should remain seperate.
'Where's Ron?' I ask, cutting Harry off in the middle of a sentence. He looks hurt, but I only half-notice it. I hadn't even been listening to what he was talking about anyway. 'I didn't see him after the ceremony-- him and Lavender better have not disappeared off somewhere.' I continue, absentmindedly taking off the head girl badge pinned to the outside of my robes. The pin, sharp and unmerciful, digs into my palm. I ignore the pain, the trickling blood, and discreetly wipe it away on my robes.
'Well, he said him and Lavender were sneaking out early.'
[And it hurts to want everything and nothing at the same time
I want what's yours and I want what's mine]
I pretend not to let this news bother me. I know that if I think it enough, repeat it over and over, it won't bother me at all. I can't help but wonder if I'll be the woman who sits at her desk and writes the love letter, only to realise that it's too late.
[I want you
But I'm not giving in this time]
We reach the Fat Lady and give the password. She swings forward to admit us, and for the last time we climb through the wall and re-emerge in our world. Our home, for the past seven years. The only place I've ever felt like I belonged in.
Ron and Lavender are sitting over on the window-seat, gazing down at the grounds, talking in low whispers. They see us enter but do not register it in their expressions. I smile, even though my lips feel so dry and cracked, and I wave, even though my hand is aching with the pain of the cut.
Neville, Ginny and a few other sixth-years are sitting in the best armchairs by the fire, talking, laughing and reminicing. Occasionally, Ginny glances over at Harry. She looks like me. The light in her eyes has gone out.
[Goodbye to you
Goodbye to everything I thought I knew
You were the one I loved
The one thing that I tried to hold on to]
'I'm going to bed.' I say to Harry, and kiss him goodnight. Slowly, I trudge up to bed, trying to come to terms with what I've lost. Trying to come to terms with what I'll never have. So many wasted opportunities, so many lost dreams. I call goodnight to Ron, and Lavender, and Neville and Ginny.
Ginny follows me to the bottom of the staircase, and she puts a hand on my shoulder. I turn around to face her, quickly rearranging my features into one of confusion.
'I know exactly how you feel, Hermione.' she whispers to me and looks over at Harry. He's gone to talk to Ron and Lavender, and they're laughing and joking. They look like it's them who have been the best friends all along, and I was just... another person. Not even worth recognition.
'We'll talk on the train tomorrow, okay, Ginny?' I say finally. I'm not prepared to divulge my feelings to her, even if she is my closest girl friend, but she seems to understand. She gives me a hug.
'I know he feels the same as you, Hermione, he just can't show it.'
[The one thing that I tried to hold on to...]
I awake in the middle of the night from a nightmare. I can't recall any of the images, but I feel like I've run a marathon and I'm covered in sweat. I'm breathing in quick, fast gulps, and I try to calm down. But I'm shaking.
I fear that I'll wake the others up. So I softly get out of bed and walk down to the common room. The fire is still going, the dying embers glowing gold and crimson. I sink down on my knees in front of it and hold my hands before the warmth. I shiver again, examining the cut on my left hand. I could heal it, easily. A few simple words and I wouldn't have to experience the pain from it anymore.
'Couldn't sleep?' it's Ron. He comes downstairs, and I quickly get to my feet and turn around, blushing.
'Uh, yes, I had a nightmare.' I say, shaking my head. 'Don't let me disturb you-- I was just about to go back to bed.' I start to make my way back towards the staircase.
'Hermione, don't be stupid.' Ron rolls his eyes. 'What are you so scared of, anyway? You think you know everything. Prove to me you do, go on!'
'I'm going to bed,' I snap, tossing my hair haughtily. 'Leave me alone, Ron, I don't want to talk to you.'
And he stands in the middle of the room, in his too-short maroon pyjamas, staring at me with this look on his face that I've never seen before in my life.
[And when the stars fall...]
'I don't want you to go through life without knowing, Hermione.' he says. And it's such an out-of-character-thing for him to say that I snort. But he doesn't laugh back. In fact, his ears have started to go red, and I wonder what he's about to say.
'You...' he takes a deep breath. 'Thanks, Hermione, for being you.' he mutters, looking at the ground. Then he leans forward and kisses me. It's not like a kiss that I'd share with Harry, which, to me, always seems fake and pre-rehearsed. This kiss is like... oh, I don't know, something unexpected but beautiful.
Like a falling star, or a sunshower.
We break apart, and we're both blushing. 'That's what I've been trying to tell you for the past few years.' he's smiling nervously. 'I mean, if you don't want to, then I completely understand, but... oh, God, I'm an idiot...'
'But that's exactly what I've been trying to tell you!' I stifle a giggle. Suddenly, I feel my lips lift, and I smile-- a real smile.
Our hands brush; it's like electricity is running through my veins. Pulsating and alive.
'I should... probably get to bed.' I say, finally, reluctant to let the moment go. Ron takes my hand and for a moment I just stare at it. I feel the cut on my palm throb, but I don't mind anymore. It's no longer an uncomfortable pain, but it's more like a meaningful pain, a pain that has a reason.
Love has a reason.
'Goodnight, Hermione.' says Ron quietly, and we make our way back up to our respective bedrooms. When I enter the dorm, I hear the soft snores of the other girls; moonlight falls on their faces, sharpening their features.
[I will lie awake]
Before I go to bed, I glance at myself in the mirror. I don't see Hermione Granger, head girl, muggle-born, top student, Elf Rights Campaigner.
I see a girl who has finally found what she's looking for.
[You're my shooting star...]