This was originally a one-shot, but I felt I could take the story a bit farther. There might be another chapter soon enough.
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Hermione Granger was not one for crying. When she lived with her parents she had very rarely cried. She did once on her seventh birthday when a neighbor boy ran through the front lawn yelling, "Beaverteeth! Beaverteeth!" She also found herself unable to control her sorrow when she saw her father walk out the door with a luggage bag. Her tears returned with a happier encounter the next Wednesday when she saw him coming up the drive and her mother running to greet him happily. But, overall there were very few occasions. Then the fortunate-and unfortunate- arrival to Hogwarts consumed her. More specifically, a certain red-headed, green-eyed Weasley. The one that was currently watching her from his position at the top of the stairs with slitted eyes. It was twenty-two minutes after the dance and they were still bickering like children.
"Well, if you wanted to go to the dance with me so badly, why didn't you ask me yourself?" She screamed, rage slowly overcoming her usually passive countenance.
He looked at her in astonishment and responded with a derogatory comment that made her barely used tear ducts clench to keep them from spilling over. She looked back up at his obviously triumphant stance and gave him a look that screamed 'how-dare-you'. His face fell a bit and he brought a foot forward as if to chase after her, but it was too late. She walked away from him without a backward glance. She felt that strength she had always kept alive, break silently, the power of it bringing damned tears to her eyes. She wiped them away viciously with a whimper of weakness.
Her path was changed quickly as she spotted an open classroom. She crawled upon a long, flat table and curled about herself. The tears that she hated so much now fell freely from her eyes, so furious that they racked her small body into a quivering mess of a girl.
I'm sorry Ron… I'm so, so sorry…