Chapter Two - Obsession.

The summer holidays. Usually such a peaceful and relaxing time where you can do whatever you please. The weather is always exceptional and everyone seems to be in pleasant moods. This certain holiday is almost like a whole string of Sundays sewn together; the atmosphere is so positive that you just can't help but be happy and calm. However, when your mind is occupied, these certain aspects disappear and all that remains is people walking past at top speed while you delve deeper and deeper into your mind.

Normally, I quite enjoy my holidays; they give me time to complete my homework and relax when I get the chance. Still, nevertheless, this summer holiday I was recalling all the events that occurred during my sixth year and that certainly didn't make me smile with glee or urge me to go swimming in the sea on a hot day!

Does the fact that all the events I looked back on involve the boy I love make me obsessed? I wouldn't like to think I am. Obsession is definitely a key element to losing your self-control and I don't like the idea of revolving my entire life around one thing or person, either. But then again, I intended not to fall in love and look what happened there.

-

The snow falls thick and fast past the window as the moon appears behind the clouds. Neither I nor Ron or Harry can get to sleep and have decided to play a game of Chess to pass the time. Or more like, Ron and Harry have decided to play Chess and I'm a spectator. A very interfering spectator, I must say.

"No, Harry, E5, E5!" I yell, as I point my finger at the knight with a mischievous grin on its face.

Harry turns slightly in his seat to face me. "Hermione," He speaks calmly, with his eyes closed. "Who is playing against Ron?"

Ron begins to point at Harry furiously, his arms flying everywhere to catch my attention. As I scowl at Ron, Harry opens his eyes.

"I'm only trying to help, Harry!" I cry.

Ron moves one of his pawns forwards and grins in my direction while Harry looks intently at the board, concentrating on his next move. Harry sighs deeply and his eyebrows furrow.

"I give up."

Harry rises to his feet and bids both Ron and I goodnight before climbing up the stairs towards his dormitory.

"What got his wand in a knot?" Ron asks, as he starts to pack away his chess set.

"I have no idea," I reply worryingly. "Do you think it was because of me?"

"No, 'course not," Ron reassures me. "Maybe he's grumpy because he saw Ginny holding hands with Dean this morning,"

I sigh. Ron raises his eyebrows at me and places his chess board on the sofa nearest us.

"What?" Ron questions innocently.

"Well, wouldn't the fact he saw them holding hands be a logical explanation?"

"Who?"

"Ginny and Dean!" I exclaim loudly, shocking Ron.

"Oh," Ron says bluntly.

"Exactly. And you're acting as if that wouldn't be a big deal to him,"

"Maybe it wouldn't be. After all, he was the one that split up with Ginny in the first place," Ron says seriously, leaning back in his chair.

"So," I begin. "If you saw a person you liked holding hands with someone else, you would be fine

with it?"

Ron slumps in his seat making the chair fall to the ground and grumbles under his breath incoherently. His ears turn a dark shade of pink as my smile widens gradually.

"No. But I'd have to get over it, wouldn't I?" Ron finally says.

Oh, he thinks it is that easy, does he? If I saw the person I love holding hands with someone besides me, I would be heartbroken. Just the thought of it is a hideous thought, let alone witnessing it. But perhaps none of this enters Ron's mind and all he thinks of is kissing and. . .other things.

I nod in response.

"What would you do?"

"What do you mean?" I ask, utterly confused.

"Well," Ron says. "What would you do if you saw someone holding hands with - never mind,"

"I'm not even going to ask, Ron," I reply sharply and storm upstairs to my dormitory.

How can Ron not see that talking about Victor is getting old? Then again, how can Ron not be aware that someone is in love with him? Sometimes, I just. . . I don't know what to do. I want to distance myself from him because he continues to hurt me time and time again, but when I try, I end up caving in and giving him a second chance. How is that for self-control?

Self-control should not even be in existence! If no-one has it when it comes to love, why bother? I only decide I don't have it because the word is actually in a dictionary and can be used. Otherwise, I would let myself fall deeper and deeper into love and not care of the consequences. I wouldn't have to worry that I was thinking far too much and that my time would be less wasted doing my homework or revising for exams.

Knocking me out of my train of thought, a loud knock emits from the door.

"Who is it?" I call out, whilst I sit on my bed in darkness.

"Me."

Very specific. I know who it is now! Oh, it was so obvious from the beginning!

I stand up and dragging my feet on the floor as I take each step, I finally reach the door and open it a fraction. I peek through the gap and see Ginny standing out in the hallway, twirling a strand of her hair around her finger absent minded. I open the door the remainder of the way and usher Ginny inside the dormitory without saying a word and retreat back to my bed.

"Hermione," Ginny whispers, as she travels across the room. "Are you okay?"

I squeak involuntarily and nod my head.

"You're not. What's wrong?"

"Ginny, honestly, I'm fine," I reply, convincing no-one. "Why do you ask?"

Ginny tuts at me and hurries out of the room and into the dormitory bathroom. She could have at least interrupted me and informed me she needed the toilet, instead of pretending she was interested in what I had to say!

Although minutes later, Ginny comes sauntering back into the room with a handful of tissues grasped in her hand and sits down on my bed. She offers the tissues to me, before I shake my head and she rests them on the covers of my bed.

"I thought you might want them," Ginny explains, playing with a loose thread on her sleeve. "Your eyes are all red and puffy."

And she can see that in the dark?

"I haven't been crying!" I cry defensively, causing Ginny to frown in sympathy.

"I didn't say you had been, Hermione. But I just thought -"

"Well, you thought wrong, didn't you," I retort rudely, the tears I was eager to hide, sliding down my

cheeks.

I realise that Ginny can relate to how I'm feeling, although on a totally different level. Harry has finished with her because he thinks it is the safest thing to do, while Ginny is is still madly in love with him but has accepted he must do what he has to do. Me, on the other hand - well, I'm in love with a boy that doesn't know the difference between a television and a telephone.

"Ginny, I didn't - forget I said anything," I say apologetically. "I'm sorry,"

Ginny shakes her head as she chuckles. "You've got nothing to be sorry for. Just tell me what's wrong - although I think I know who made you upset anyway. . ."

"Oh, are you Professor Trelawney all of a sudden?" I joke.

"No, but I know that my brother is a stupid, insensitive occasionally and is the person that infuriates and aggravates you the most,"

I laugh at Ginny's truthful prediction and look down at my hands to avoid her eyes. Eyes are a window into the soul and if Ginny looks into mine, she'll be able to read me like a book.

"He mentioned Victor again -"

"Oh, Hermione!" Ginny cries. "I've told you before - don't let Ron get to you! We all know he does it because -"

"Because he what? Hates me? Was born to make my life a living hell? Is jealous that I got to know Victor and he didn't?" I yell. I shout so loud, it's a wonder the walls don't crumble.

Ginny rolls her eyes and doesn't answer.

"He won't apologize. He'll expect everything just to fall back into place again," I comment bluntly,

twiddling my thumbs.

"Do you want it to?" Ginny asks.

"Well, I - yes," I raise my head and stare at Ginny. "Just don't tell him that, okay?"

"Why would I?" Ginny replies and her head flies back as she giggles loudly.

Ginny then proceeds to stand up and walk over to the door.

"I'll tell him you'll be down shortly, alright?"

I nod my head in response even though what she suggested is the opposite to what I want her to say. I want her to tell Ron I'm never going to speak to him ever again. I want her to pour a glass of water over his head in anger. For her to step heavily on his toes would even be enough. I just want him to suffer. Why should my heart break into millions of pieces over and over again when he is so oblivious, he wouldn't know an insult if it ran round him in circles, danced like a leprechaun and poked him in the eyes? If I told him that he was the most infuriating, annoying, lazy boy I have ever known, he would probably thank me. If I told him that he is someone that is always there for me when I least suspect it, he'd probably look like I had just slapped him in the face. You can't win!

"Hermione!" Someone calls loudly from the Common Room. The voice is deep and grizzly, so I don't have to guess twice to who it is.

I race down the stairs in record time, despite the fact I wanted to keep a low profile and ignore him and I spot him standing beside the fireplace waiting for me, looking very flustered indeed.

"What is it?" I question, beginning to panic.

"Nev - Neville just told me that Harry - Harry and Draco are in the dungeons," Ron says speedily.

"I think they're going to duel or something. I - we've got to get down there!"

With widened eyes, I agree with Ron and we storm out of the Common Room as quickly as we can. I lag behind incredibly as we reach the dungeons and Ron grabs my hand hurriedly. I wish he wouldn't do that. He may think he is being protective, but it makes me extremely uncomfortable and forces me to blush unwillingly. This shows how ignorant and unobservant he is. Although, I've got to admit, before we enter the dungeons and we are plunged into darkness, I see his ears have gone slightly pink.