A/N: I hope you like this chapter, I don't think it's as good as the first but let me know, I'm still learning. Also, if you like this stoy, check out my other fics! please? *puppy dog face* Ok so, enjoyy!
Disclaimer: No, I'm not really JK Rowling no matter how much I wish I was. The world just doesn't work that way. Now on with the story..
A little afternote, I'd just published this when I got a review from Mariahana (Thanks so much, really helpful!) and so I've decided to change the way the talk and spread the writing out a bit to make it easier to understand in this chapter, please tell me if you prefer the way this one's written or the first chapter and I hope this makes it better. Cheers.
Chapter 2:
One night, eighteen packets of Weasley's Magnificently Comforting Tissues and a very salty, wet, tearstained pillow later, Hermione was feeling no better.
Being a creation of Fred and George's, (Hermione sniffed a little at Fred's name,) the tissues were more like the opposite of comforting, they insisted on shrieking weirdly accurate reason's why she SHOULD be crying, the whole time she had been using them. Ron was a complete prat for doing this to her, and yet she could see his side to the story, much as she wished she couldn't. He must be aching with grief at the loss of his brother, clearly Lavender was just an outlet to his grief.
But why not Hermione? What was wrong with outletting his pain in her? She told herself not to think it, but she knew the answer. No matter how much he loved her personality, in looks, Hermione could never compete with Lavender. Lavender was on the right path to becoming a Witch-Model, whereas Hermione, at 17 barely even looked feminine- bushy-haired, bruised and cut from a year on the run, and she didn't even come up to Ron's shoulder. She finally did believe Ron that he loved her, but it was clear that there were some aspects where she could never live up to Lavender. Maybe Lavender was better suited to him, maybe Ron deserved better, maybe even Hermione deserved better than Ron.
With an angry sigh, Hermione pummelled her pillow with a tightly clenched fist, and got slowly, wincing at her aches and pains out of bed. She looked in the mirror of the empty dormitory she was sleeping in. She was wearing a massive pair of olive green coloured tracksuit pants, which were the only clean muggle clothes she had been able to find in the closet. She had left on her own gray singlet, but it had been stained with a yellow something and was clearly not appropriate attire for breaking up with her sort-of-boyfriend. After a quick shower, she wrapped a towel around herself and left her hair wet, it was at its least bushy that way. Sneaking into the next dormitory, she opened the large closet and was much more pleased with her findings. Sighing with pleasure at wearing clean clothes for the first time in at least half a year, she dressed in a pair of black jogging shorts and a navy blue baggy t-shirt. She didn't want to dress up, she was just desperate to be clean for the first time in so long.
"HERMIONE!" came a shout from the bottom of the staircase as soon as she left the room. It was Harry. "Hermione… Hermione, you've got… to come… NOW!" he finished, panting. Not caring what he had been doing to get him this puffed, she brushed him off. "I'm going to talk to Ron, Harry, I'll talk to you later okay?" She said firmly, pushing him out of her way. He looked completely flabbergasted as he said "Yeah. That's what I meant… you do that- go talk to Ron." He finished, still looking slightly befuddled as she smiled a half smile that seemed to be the only thing people could manage around here. "See you, Harry," she said almost curtly and left him alone on the staircase.
Hermione bumped into Ron almost immediately, she had just turned the corner, looking behind her at Seamus who had just said hello, and he ran right into her, knocking her into a wall. She mustered up all the courage that she had left and held him up straight.
"Ron," she said., looking right into his eyes and trying hard not to feel anything,
"Ron, we're done. I deserve better than you, and at the same time, you deserve better than me. I'm clearly not good enough for you, as you just displayed and frankly, I think we're better off without each other."
She had vowed to do this with a straight, strong face, but she broke off with a sob as she added,
"Oh, and I think it's best if we're not friends either. At least for a while…"
she said weakly, and wiped her eye firmly before patting him on the shoulder and brushing past him. She didn't wait to see what his expression was like, but she had at least expected him to call after her. When he didn't, she scowled and shook her head, and letting the tears flow freely at this realisation that maybe she had never meant anything to him, she ran away, her feet pounding as she went. She didn't hear his shouts, didn't see the look of anguish on his face, didn't feel the thumping of his feet as he chased after her, she was too consumed in her grief to notice any of that, she just ran, and ran, and ran. Ignoring the calls as she ran past friendly faces, ignoring the tentative 'hullo' from Neville, she ran, alone and sad, through the immense castle, that she had once called home.
A/N: Sorry for the short chapter, it just feeled finished at this point so I'll make the rest longer probably. If anyone has any ideas, or has any opinion (or not) whatsoever on my story, please review, thanks to the 2 people who reviewed (made my day, love youse), and please I need feedback, so REVIEW REVIEW REVIEW, i'll always reply if it's a question or a rlly good review sooo...
Oh and no more chapters 'til at least 4 or 5 methinks... so those of view who added it to favourites (THANKS BTW!) but without reviewing, just review so that I can carry on with the story XD ? THANK YOU SO MUCH FOR READING ALL!
Love Gypsey xxxx
