Lying Awake
Disclaimer – I don't own anything mentioned in the books or movies.
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Hermione had always been obsessed with people's eyes. Always. She didn't know why, she just always was. And Ron's eyes were the only ones she wanted to see right now. But Ron was gone. Ron left. She had to remember that. Ron was gone. And he wasn't going to be coming back. And it was all her fault.
She stared at her reflection in the dark window, mascara running down her cheeks, hair messy, puffy red eyes. She could still hear the words of their idiotic fight echoing in her head, swirling around and around. She put her hands against her ears, trying to block out her thoughts, it wasn't working.
She wanted to scream. Instead, she bit down on her lip. She could feel the blood pouring out, and walked into the bathroom. She spat into the porcelain sink, and stared into the mirror. She took in her appearance, tears pooling in her eyes. She looked horrible.
Walking out, she stared at the window, again. Snow had started to fall. Usually, she and Ron would watch the snow together, curled up on the couch, with hot cocoa warming them up. There would be no Christmas for Hermione this year. There was nothing to celebrate, everything was gone.
She walked into the bedroom and collapsed onto the bed. Staring at the ceiling, she remembered the pictures Ron had gotten for her. She didn't know what had happened to them. She turned her head and stared at the wall. Running her fingers through her hair, she sighed and turned over, onto her stomach. Burying her head in her pillow, she breathed in the familiar scent. What she couldn't understand, was how a pillow could hold so many memories. She screamed into the pillow, muffling the sound.
Hermione felt a new onset of tears coming. She had been so unreasonable. They had fought for such stupid reasons. Why hadn't she just ignored him being late, it didn't matter. She had lost the pictures Ron had gotten for her. The first night after he stormed out, she had taken each picture and ran her fingers lightly over them. There were even pictures from when they first met. She cried that first night. She fell asleep on a picture of her and Ron dancing in the rain some Sunday afternoon in fourth year. Her tears gently caressed the picture all night long. When she woke up, her pillow was soggy and her eyes felt puffy.
She had tried to forget about the pictures. Tried, and failed. Every so often, when she least expected it, her mind would suddenly zip back to the fight and the pictures.
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A few weeks later, she was cleaning out the all the papers that had piled up since the fight, and she stumbled on the pictures. She dropped them in surprise. They spilled all over the floor, she bent to pick them up, and saw he one on top. Sitting on the floor, she stared at the picture. It was from last Christmas, it was of her and Ron kissing and spinning in the falling snow. They both look so happy. What had happened to their love?
She ran her hands lightly over the picture, pausing for a moment on Ron's face. She watched Ron and herself dance for a while, and glanced outside at the snow. She felt her eyes watering, and knew she was going to cry. She stood up, and went to an easy chair. Putting her head on her knees, she breathed slowly and stopped herself from crying. The picture was crumbled up in her fist. She opened it slowly and smoothed out the creases. She rubbed her eyes, she was so tired. Tired of being alone, tired of always hurting, she was tired of missing Ron.
She looked at the picture, and started to laugh. She was an idiot. She missed Ron. Why had they fought? It was stupid; she should never have let him leave. Why hadn't she gone to get him? She went and wrote Harry a letter. She needed to find out where Ron had gone.
She walked to her bed and collapsed, she realized she couldn't just go get him; he would never take her back, not after they way she'd acted. Besides, Ron probably already had a new love interest. Unlike her. Unlike Hermione, who couldn't get over him and couldn't forget the love they shared. She changed into her pajamas' and tried to go to sleep. In the morning, she'd figure out a plan of how to get him back.
She couldn't get to sleep that night. She spent the entire night lying awake. She wouldn't ever get him back. She moaned into her pillow. Silent tears slipped down her face. She didn't even know where he was staying. She realized that Ron and she hadn't spoken in … over a month now. He wouldn't want to see her, let alone talk. Her emotions all collided together, and she started to sob. She needed to get Ron back, without him, she couldn't live. She wasn't truly happy without him.
She glanced at her alarm clock, sitting beside her bed. It was three in the morning. Groaning, she rolled onto her back and stared at the light that was reflected on her ceiling. She moaned. Her stomach was doing somersaults. She stood up suddenly, and had to steady herself as the blood pounded through her head, and ran to the bathroom. Leaning over the toilet, she spilled out her guts. She leaned back against the wall, hugging her knees and rocking back and forth slowly. What was happening to her? Was she dying?
And at that moment, Hermione realized that she hadn't gotten her period for at least three months. She'd been too preoccupied to notice. She was pregnant, with Ron's baby. He had to take her back now, right?
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Author Note – Well, once again, I wrote a Ron and Hermione one. Oh well. I might continue this one, for a little while anyway. We'll see though. Read and Review please, as usual. (:
