She loved the smell of books, the woody smell of paper aging with time. She loved the feel of the sheets against her fingers as she turned the pages. It made her feel at home. It felt perfect, it felt right.
One of her fondest memories was when her father came back home and gave her a story book. It was a typical children's book, but she was captivated and couldn't stop reading the book until she finally turned the last page and got to the ending. From that day on, she got her hands on every book she could find.
She could absorb all the information from reading, everything from the names of lesser known heroes to the way rabbits eat. She may be quite an outsider in kindergarten and primary school, but she excelled in academics. That is how she made up for her lack of friends, by gaining good grades and nods of approval from teachers. She finally found something she's good at.
And when she received that letter when she was eleven, she made sure that she was to excel in Hogwarts too. She stayed up reading simple spells and the school's history, up to the night before she went on the Hogwarts Express.
Hermione was perfectly brilliant at Hogwarts as she was at her Muggle school. The only difference is during her first year, a red-headed boy drew her attention to a detail she has been trying to ignore for years. She was always a loner, an outsider. No one wanted to be friends with a know-it-all overachiever. She cried for hours, knowing that despite all her years of making herself think otherwise, her books and facts will never be able to make up for her lack of friends.
Little did she know that in a few minutes, the same red-head would come in with his own bespectacled friend and save her from a troll. From then on, Ron and Harry have been her comfort and she was grateful for not feeling empty anymore.
But last night, she saw that red-headed boy look at Lavender Brown in a way he never did to her. It was as if a whole cupboard fell on her chest, she could not breath, there was something absent in her chest.
And that is why, after crying herself to sleep, she woke up and reached for a book. Reading was her first comfort, one that she has to go back to, to at least make her strong enough to go on with the rest of the day.
Wow, I haven't been online for ages now. So I thought I'd post this today, after finally getting some free time.
