She always knew what she was doing, all the time. She was on top of everything. She got good grades, had Ron Weasley falling all over her, and had Harry Potter for a best friend. She was just...perfect. She seemed to know everything.
But there was one thing she never knew...
She never knew how I tried so hard to beat Malfoy up for calling her 'Mudblood,' she never knew how poor, blundering Neville had stolen Malfoy's prized wizard figurine from his father for teasing her in the Great Hall, she never knew that I sat in every class, every day, every minute of my life at Hogwarts watching her, trying to soak up as much as I could of her so that I could always remember.
I knew it would only be harder when we left Hogwarts, watching the Marriage and Birth Announcements in the Daily Prophet... Hermione Granger and her happy husband. Who would it be? Ron, Harry, Seamus...she had all of them. She had every single one, and she could pick and choose like buying fresh fruit at a farmer's market. Pick and choose.
And she wouldn't ever pick me, no. Never. She was always having to rescue me...saving my toad in Potions, undoing the Full Body-Bind Curse Malfoy had put on me, helping me with Charms homework...but it was just out of friendship. How could I even hope - how could I even think that she -
I hated myself, hated myself for falling for her. But then, I never could see why I hadn't, why everybody hadn't. She got more beautiful every single day, every single minute, and I should know, I'm the one who keeps a silent, heartbreaking watch on everything she does. Everything.
And nobody suspects me. Nobody even dreams that walking disaster Neville could be so crafty, so vigilant, but I see everything. I see the way she looks at Ron, I see the times when Seamus stares for a whole period at her hair, swishing back and forth gently as she writes furiously. Smart, friendly, beautiful, and then there's me: stupid, shy, vulnerable. I could never be a heartthrob. And I could never have her, never.
Never.