A/N: Just a little something I had in mind. Hermione, to me, is yes very generous and brave and etc., but she is also flawed, which is not often pointed at since she's known to be always right. But I knowing what it's like to deal with teenagers and being a teenager myself, I cannot help but think at some point, she would have had this sort of attitude.
Positive feedback is always accepted!
H.G.
Preview : It just happened, like that, like the blink of an eye. She woke up one day, and she had stopped caring.
H.G.
It just happened, like that, like the blink of an eye. She woke up one day, and she had stopped caring.
It all started as a normal day, border line boring. She went down to the Great Hall to have breakfast, as usually, and sat between Ron and Harry, as usually. Sometimes she would make an exception and sit beside Neville, to change from the boredom of the routine, but today was not that day.
''Good morning everybody,'' she said sitting. ''How are you?'' She spoke to nobody in particular, throwing the question between her friends.
''Good thanks,'' answered Harry still half asleep.
''Hey Hermione,'' spoke Ronald between two bites. ''Would you mind looking at my potion essay?''
''No.''
She put food on her plate, and started eating as if nothing happened, not noticing Ronald's jaw almost touching the table or that Harry had stopped moving at her answer, leaving his fork between his open mouth and his plate. She was so deep in her thoughts, she didn't notice the Weasley twins sitting in front of her either.
Fred sat in front of Hermione, as usual. He tried talking to her, but she barely responded.
''Hey 'Mione, how are you doing on this fine morning?'' He asked with a smile. ''Slept well?''
''Kind of.'' She answered smiling, at least Fred cared enough to ask her.
Fred couldn't help but notice that her smile didn't reach her eyes, and it bothered him to no end.
By now, George knew he had a thing for her, and left him the place to sit in front of her. They never talked about it, but he knew. He noticed the looks, the jokes, the smiles and the laughs. Hermione was good at hiding her game though, not one has George seen her blush or even looked troubled by the attention Fred gave her. But even he, on this morning, noticed something was off from her usual behavior.
Breakfast finished, Hermione took off to who knows where, probably the library for a last minute verification, without saying a word.
''What's wrong?'' George asked.
''The light's out,'' Fred whispered, worried.
''You're gonna have to be more precised.''
''The light in her eyes George, it's almost as if... as if she stopped caring about anything.''
''Hermione? Not about to happen man. She cares about everything – ''
''And everyone! And that's what worries me George.''
''She did stopped caring,'' Harry spoke to them, explaining about how she had refused to look up Ron's homework. Meanwhile, poor Ronald was sweating profusely thinking about the bad grade that would get him.
That day, Hermione went directly to class. A group of 7th year Slytherin students harassed her on the way, insulting her, picking at her hair. She started to feel the tears burn her eyes. She just didn't feel like it anymore. She didn't feel like fighting or putting up a front that she was a fighter who would walk to Earth alongside Harry to save it.
She could see some classmates walking right in front of her, but they never turned back to help her.
It was all too much. She had had enough. The insults and the looks were one thing, but her friend never taking her defense or not caring about how she felt, that was it. Helping Ronald with his homework all the time, or doing the entire thing because he was so lazy. Saving Harry's ass all the time. Listening to Ginny gossiping about the boyfriend of the week. Doing all sorts of chores to help everybody. ''Hermione this, Hermione that, oh please Hermione!''
All she wanted was a simple thank you.
The rest of the day went by like a blur, and no one except the twin noticed that Hermione was missing from dinner that night. Fred asked her friends if they had seen her, but no one could answer him. He thought about going to the library to find her, but he lacked courage.
''It would be weird, me of all people coming to get her,'' he thought to himself. Somehow, it felt bitter and wrong. But still, he couldn't shake the feeling away that it wasn't his place.
Oh, they were right of course. Hermione was in the library. She wanted to know if any of them would come up to her to remind her of the time, and that she should take care of herself, by say – having dinner and taking a break. The past years had been simply exhausting. She took care of everybody, all the time, and yet, not one seemed to return her the favor.
With a sad huff, she pulled her hair in a messy bun, and started studying.
From now on, Hermione Granger wouldn't care for anybody but herself.
The next morning, she woke up by the sound of her roommates leaving the dormitory. She felt... odd. She felt heavy and very light at the same time. She felt relieved of the decision she took, she only wanted to take care of herself and put her energy at the right place, but dreaded the fact that she surely would end up alone most of the time.
After all, people were after the Brightest witch of her age, not Hermione Granger.
Well, they would have to learn to live without her, Hermione thought to herself.
She got up, and made her way down to breakfast again. She sat at the end of the table, not wanting to talk with anybody and opened a book in front of her to send a clear message: ''Not up for a chat, lads.''
Apparently, the message was understood fairly quickly because no one dared to approach a particularly defensive lioness.
Hermione moved on, having an ordinary day. That is, until something terrible happened.
Some might have called it hell, others a portable swamp, but to put it simply: she was the victim of a Weasley plan.
The intentions of the twins were good, of course. They never really planned to purposely anger her. But before they could even begin the plan... well, it fucked up.
There was really no other way to say it.
It was dumb, really, Fred thought. Instable of opening the starlight sky in the middle of the hallway leading to the Gryffindor common room, in hope to make her smile, he had switch the suitcase with the portable swamp. Very enthusiast with his plan, George had taken the suitcase and opened it right in front of the charm class, just as Fred noticed it was the wrong suitcase, and coincidentally just as Hermione was the first to step out of the door frame.
Noticing his mistake, George had escaped, leaving Fred alone to face Hermione who was indubitably red as a tomato. The swamp had exploded in her face, covering her from head to toes in green goo.
She locked eyes with Fred, not saying a word, being silently furious, and Fred stopped breathing. Her hair was cracking with an energy he had never witness from her, and she looked like pure danger. Oddly, that was attracting to him. Perhaps he could reminisce that sight another moment. And she moved on, walking in direction of the common room to shower. And so Fred did the only thing he could: he followed her calling her name in the corridors but she furiously continued walking. For such a small person, Hermione sure was fast on her feet.
And finally caught to her when they entered the common room.
''Awn comon' Granger, don't be mad,'' he teased nudging her. That was certainly a bad move. Neither noticed the noise in the common room slowly dying down, the Gryffindors paying attention to their exchange. All of them had finished class for the day and were dying for some entertainment.
She pinched the bridge of her nose, taking in a deep breath, a hand on her hip, facing him. ''You know what, Fred? I'm not. I'm not mad at you.''
Somehow, he knew that what was coming was far worse than her being mad. He could handle mad Hermione, he was used to it. She was prefect after all, and he was the prankster of the school, with his twin. But what he was about to witness was not mad Hermione. His breath caught in his throat in wait of the rest of her speech. Harry and Ron stepped through the door and listened as much as the other. Ron was hoping he could convince Hermione to look up at his homework – it was a mess really. Harry had spent the last hour trying to dissuade him. For the last hours, Hermione had been anything but her usual self, and she needed some space to herself. Or so Harry thought. He was well intentioned, of course, but wrong.
''I'm rather disappointed.'' She dropped the words like they were bombs.
The pang hurt him more than he ever thought it would. Now that he didn't know how to deal with. Fred looked over at Harry, who shrugged. He didn't want to get involved in the slightest, not if Hermione didn't require it.
''You're brilliant. Both you and George. And yet you fucking waste your talent into jokes. You justify yourself by saying your goal is as admirable as making people smile. You know who needs to smile Fred?'' Harry's mouth opened slightly at Hermione's cursing. Despite what she was saying, her expression was stone cold, and that terrified him.
Unable to speak a word, Fred nodded his head from left to right.
Only she can compliment us and insult us at the same time, Fred thought in the back of his head.
''Children who just lost parents because Death Eaters killed them, need to laugh. Children such as past Remus Lupin who got bitten by Greyback, and now have lycanthropy need to laugh. You could be building books with incredible magic to cheers those spirits up. Hell, you could even find a cure to most diseases if you would put your mind to it. You could be as brilliant as Dumbledore. But no, in a time of need and support and most of all, '' she took a deep breath, '' in a time where we could all use a good new, you walk around parading those stupid toys '' she spoke with so much disdain, Fred taught she could compete her mother with her low opinion of their products, ''which you test on first years. So pardon me for not showing you the so called respect you deserve O wise one, or not finding you funny in the slighest'' the sarcasm was dripping from her words.
She knew she had the attention of everyone, so she decided to strike one last time.
''Needless to say it's very insulting for someone who, for the first 11 years of her life, had been treated differently because she was special, bullied into being normal. Someone who got into a magical school, hoping she would finally fit in the frame, only to be treated like she was worthless and called such as Mudblood. (Some people gasped at the words, but Hermione just didn't care anymore, she was at the last straw.) Someone who's working her ass off to prove everybody that she deserves to be there, only to be treated as a slave for your lazy ass when you realized your need help on something (she looked at Ron, who gulped under her gaze, and looked down – it probably wouldn't be a good idea to ask her to proof check his essay, not if he wanted to keep his balls anyway.) You don't know what it means, to notice wasted talent, and having to prove that you belong, Fred. Because you've always been a part in this world. You've never had to doubt yourself. You always you were right where you belong. And just when I start to feel appreciated for who am I (She took a look at the crowd observing her) I realized my so called friends have been using me – or rather my knowledge. You don't really care now, do you? Not even a simple thank you Hermione. Which, honestly, would be basic decency. That excludes you Ginny.''
The young redhead woman nodded, proud not to be involved in this mess. But somehow, Harry wondered if he had been that bad to Hermione. Of course the girl had a thing for being dramatic, and he had his own problems to deal with, but it was a fact that Hermione had always had his back. He felt like an idiot for not appreciating.
The silence was unbearable for everybody, making them uncomfortable. Most of the people had never thought about it this way, and were ashamed of themselves, not daring meet her eyes and looking at the ground.
''So, yes, Fred. I am disappointed in you. You're a waste of talent.''
She turned on her heels to exit the common room. She couldn't spend the night there, covered in goo or not.
H.G.
The next day, everybody was talking about the explosion of emotions Hermione had shown in the common room.
Fred had spent the night looking for Hermione. He had even met McGonagall on his path to the Astronomy Tower, but the teacher being in her cat form had pretended to be distracted by a group of mice, and he had go on to find her. He searched the library (and yes the restricted section too), the Room of Requirement and lastly her roommate hadn't seen her in the dormitory.
He was starving and so –
Fred stopped walking.
The kitchen.
He took the direction of the kitchen, running and almost tripping on a moving statue, losing his shoe in the staircase, but finally made it to the painting and tickled the pear.
The door creaked open, revealing the smallest of elf Fred had ever seen.
''Mr Weasley?'' The elf asked.
''Is there any reason why I can't come in?'' Fred tried to see through the crack of light, but the elf caught his attention.
''Mrs Granger does not desire to, and I quote, ''see your face until you are ready to properly apologize''.''
Fred was caught off guard. Apologize?! She had insulted him in front of the whole common room! He had spent the night looking for her.
''I don't care.'' Apparently, he had spoken out loud, for Hermione was standing in front of him, sporting a pajama and her hands on her hips in a very look-alike and terrifying Molly Weasley stance.
''I know you don't. And that scares me Hermione – how come you don't care about anything anymore? The world's been cold, miserable and dark without you.'' He tried to crack a joke, and a smile by the same occasion, but failed miserably.
''Anymore?'' She repeated. ''It's barely been a day! Nobody went looking for me! Nobody cared!'' He could see the hurt in her eyes. And funny enough, it hurt him that she was hurt.
Man he was glad George wasn't around, because he could have seen right through him. Fred could almost hear him as if he was really there: ''Freddie, boy, you're into deep.''
''I did,'' he spoke softly. ''I-I thought about looking for you last night and – ''
''And why didn't y-''
''Gimme a break, Hermione.'' He cut her speech short. ''I've spent the night searching for you, I'm exhausted and famished.''
That seemed to do the trick because Hermione took a second to think. She nodded, and opened the door to let him in, and lead him close to the kitchen's fire. Surprisingly, no elves were in sight.
They sat in silence for a while, and Fred was having pancakes. Hermione wasn't looking at him, her arms crossed in determination to avoid his gaze.
''Don't tell mom but the elves cook better pancakes then her,'' he whispered.
And then, the least expected thing happened: she cracked a smile, and that smile widened, and widened, until she looked up at him in full glee and started laughing.
Fred joined in without hesitation, and Hermione took the next pancake on the plate, and joined him in eating.
In a bold move, Fred got closer to her, and put an arm around her as she laid her head on his shoulder.
''Thank you,'' she whispered.
In the most natural way possible, Fred just simply kissed her.
Maybe someone did care after all, and in the best way possible.