PLOT SUMMARY: Hermione's thoughts in the bathroom after hearing Ron talk poorly about her in their first year.*
DISCLAIMER: I don't own any part of the Harry Potter franchise. I only own a paperback and hardback copy of every book, and every DVD released to date.
HERMIONE'S POV:
"It's LeviOsa, not LeviosA. She's a nightmare; honestly, it's no wonder she hasn't got any friends."
I shoved past the Gryffindor boys, intentionally elbowing Ron in the side, as I ran to the only place I knew comfort: Myrtle's bathroom. I wanted to be alone and knew that no one came in here due to the tortured (and thankfully absent) teenage ghost. I had cried here many times and knew it was safe. I was free to openly sob in here; anyone who was passing by would think that it was Myrtle's wails and would hurry on; never thinking it could be anyone else.
"She's a nightmare; honestly, it's no wonder she hasn't got any friends."
Those words, HIS words, the relentless mocking, the cruel laughter, all of it ran through my head as I sat leaned against the sink openly sobbing. Their pleading cries, their false apologies, and their fake guilt-ridden faces tortured me as they swam through my brain. I was so thankful that I had stopped listening and had run away before I could hear any more of their teasing and hurtful words.
"She's a nightmare; honestly, it's no wonder she hasn't got any friends."
Part of me knew that Ron hadn't meant for me to hear those hurtful words. I knew that because I had seen him check over his left shoulder, most likely checking that no one was eavesdropping or double checking that I wasn't following them, before the painful words spilled from his mouth. Too bad he hadn't looked over his right.
"She's a nightmare; honestly, it's no wonder she hasn't got any friends."
I knew that Ron would never say those words to my face, but it still hurt…a lot…a whole lot more than I thought it would. I knew that he had been venting his annoyance at my behavior to his trusted friends and I had overheard. Too bad that didn't keep more tears from pouring down my face.
"She's a nightmare; honestly, it's no wonder she hasn't got any friends."
His words rang true. I was a nightmare. I was a show off. I did go out of my way to best other students in intelligence. But did Ron ever consider that I was a showoff to try to get other people to notice me? That I tried to be overly intelligent so that I could help my friends, if I ever got any? That I was a nightmare because no one ever gave me a chance to be a friend?
"She's a nightmare; honestly, it's no wonder she hasn't got any friends."
All I ever wanted was to be given a chance to show who I really was. I wasn't the geeky, nerdy, know-it-all, ugly, showoff, determined-to-beat-everyone-at-everything girl everyone assumed me to be. They assumed this because they never gave me a chance to change their snap-judgment opinions. They never gave me the chance and (most likely) never would.
"She's a nightmare; honestly, it's no wonder she hasn't got any friends."
In truth, behind the frizzy hair and heavy textbooks, I was a real person. I could feel. I knew pain and rejection like I knew the back of my hand. They were only too familiar to me. I knew what it was like to be thought of as a freak. In the Muggle world, I had no friends. No one had wanted to be near me. I had always made weird things, unexplainable, improbable, unpredictable things happen whenever I was emotional, which was often. People had been afraid of me and had rejected me in society. I had tried so hard to be accepted by anyone in the Muggle world, but my parents were my only friends.
"She's a nightmare; honestly, it's no wonder she hasn't got any friends."
I now knew that it was because I was a witch that I had been able to do things that others hadn't been able to do. That, due to the magic that ran in my veins, that was a part of who I was, that Muggles avoided me.
"She's a nightmare; honestly, it's no wonder she hasn't got any friends."
I burst into tears again. Just thinking about those words made me want to cry. The truth was, when I had gotten my Hogwarts letter, I had been enthusiastic. I was excited for a new chance at acceptance. I was so happy…but then the realization hit: I was a witch. I was a newly discovered witch, going to a school with witches and wizards that had grown up with magic. I went from ecstatic to depressed and afraid in a record five minutes.
"She's a nightmare; honestly, it's no wonder she hasn't got any friends."
I had faced rejection all of my life without a frown, I had never been afraid of anyone else. I had been afraid of myself, yes, but never of others. Now I was faced with images of wizards hexing and cursing me because I was ignorant. But, though those images were scary, the thing I was most afraid of was rejection. I didn't want to be rejected by other first years that grew up with magic.
"She's a nightmare; honestly, it's no wonder she hasn't got any friends."
I wanted to be at the same level as them, with the same amount of practice. After a troubled, sleepless night, I woke my parents early and dragged them to Diagon Alley, following the directions that were included in my letter. I immediately went to work, studying all that I could. Absorbing the information in "Hogwarts, A History," and all of my textbooks, I quickly became obsessed with the knowledge. It fascinated me and I read more, and more, eagerly absorbing all that I could.
I had started the year with a reasonable amount of knowledge and practice that I had willingly shared. Before I knew it, I had been stereotyped and stored away under "AVOID." Soon afterwards, I realized I fit into the stereotype, and that I had made myself this. I had created the reality I was trying the most to avoid, and now my nightmare was my created reality: loneliness.
"She's a nightmare; honestly, it's no wonder she hasn't got any friends."
I knew that I'd never have any true friends. No one went out of their way to break their stereotypes of people. Those people, the people who were known for breaking the opinions of society, were people of fiction. They never existed in the real world. I just needed to accept that and move on. I had adjusted to rejection in the Muggle world; I knew I could adjust to rejection here.
After giving myself that "encouraging" pep-talk, I moved to wash the tearstains from my face. I decided that I didn't feel like eating dinner with the rest of the school, wishing only to go to sleep so that this day could end.
"She's a nightmare; honestly, it's no wonder she hasn't got any friends."
I stood and turned around to face the mirror. I faced my reflection, my sad tear-stained face, and turned on the tap to splash some water on my face. Not looking up, I watched the last of the water go down the drain, trying to gain my composure long enough to get my dormitory, where I would cry myself to sleep.
Deciding I was as ready as I was going to get, I turned around, intending to go straight to my warm bed after a hot shower. As I looked down to wipe away a last, stray tear with the corner of my robes, I remembered…
"She's a nightmare; honestly, it's no wonder she hasn't got any friends."
I slowly looked up, fully taking in the mountain troll, when I the large ugly foot in front of me. One thought ran through my head as I backed up towards the stalls, the troll advancing towards me: "I'm doomed." As soon as my back hit the door of a stall, I ran inside and locked the door. I screamed as a side force knocked me to the ground, both from fear and from anguish that, as I was dying, Ron's voice still seemed to haunt me more than the actual, physical pain.
"She's a nightmare; honestly, it's no wonder she hasn't got any friends."
But then I heard a shout again and realized Harry's voice was with Ron's. I also realized that their voices weren't saying that line, but were shouting my name: "Hermione!"
Not believing my ears, I pushed a few boards out of my line of vision to truly see the two boys there to help me.
"Help!" I shouted to them.
"Hermione, move!" Harry shouted as he charged the troll. I did as he said—and just in time as its club went down again. As soon as I had moved to safety under a sink, I looked back to see Ron with his wand pointed at the troll, standing where he had been before, but harry was missing from his side. Shocked I looked at the troll, to find Harry on its shoulder's, and Harry's wand in its nose.
After that, the rest of that fight was a blur in my mind, but the result I will always remember: I gained the best friends I had always wanted in two of the most amazing people I know… And the achievements that we later accomplished together are history.
"She's a nightmare; honestly, it's no wonder she hasn't got any friends."
So yes Ron, I may be a nightmare. I may be a show-off in class. I may be "too smart" for my age, and I may be VERY annoying for it. But I have to ask myself, if I was so horrible, why did you and harry come and save me that Halloween night?