Disclaimer: This is meant for amusement and no gains, monetary or otherwise are being amassed from it, excluding my love for writing, of course!
Author's Notes-
This is a humble but much desired attempt at SSHG, my favourite pairing! It will be updated, but not regularly. Slow-burn though not very long, starting with Romione because love at first sight doesn't actually happen. Enjoy...
Hermione suckled the end of her quill, staring at the starry night from the astronomy tower. She often came here to collect her thoughts. The air was cool and pleasant and just what she needed to make sense of her muddled thoughts. A thousand thoughts and emotions whirled inside her head, jostling for prominence. The war had been hard on them. But maybe, especially for her. What with the campig and horcruxes, she had forgotten how to actually live. A deep emptyness lived in her heart. Yet, it also seemed heavy, as if something was weighing her down, not allowing her to reach her potential, pushing her and also stretching beyond her limits.
The war had been a whirlwind of activity. She never had time to actually ponder about her life or to get maudlin, or regret something, she may or may not have done. But with nothing to occupy her mind and fill her humoungous head with potion ingredients or arithmatic questions, it seemed oddly empty. Drained. There was something pushing her always. Making her do her best. But did she ever think of what actually she'd want to do? If it was somethig the war had taught her then it was that she need to live life to the fullest. We live only once and an Avada Kedavra could easily sap out your life spirit. It had made her priotise what really matters. She needs to sort out her priorities. This is what Ron would say. He with his chomping and munching said something which took her a year on the run with sweaty sulky teenagers and barely any food or clothing to go by, to understand. But even now, the world seemed like an great expanse of water in which she'd drown if she didn't keep her chin up and swim against everything. Oh! She was in much the same boat. Fighting not against death but for dear life itself.
Ron! Why do you have to be so bloody right? And this is what annoyed her even more. She had thought there was something beween hem. The way her heart would beat just a little faster, the way she'd feel warm even when sitting in the far corner, away from the cosy fire of the common room. And didn't he feel hot pulsing jealousy blinding him to reason (not that he had much!) at the Yule Ball? She was sure that something or the other would blossom between them. Something new and different and giggly. Oh! She is thinking like Lavendar. As if she didn't have enough Won-Won for a lifetime. But that's just it. Even though she knows that she and Ron have a chance. It is just that! A chance. Nothing more. And she knows that fancy or not, they are incompatible for each other. Just because she wishes does not mean it will come true.(Great! Just great! Now, she is floating in a fairy tale. Just what her grief stricken and confused heart needs. Ah! A few equations will put it right in no time.) With such hopeful thoughts of losing her senseless self in a labyrinth of twisting, tricky, looping equations, she made her way to the girls' dorm and to her beloved books, the only ones to pound some sense into her.
Slapping her books shut (yes, she was too tired to feel the guilt of ripping their spines), she rubbed her weary eyes. Stydying late in wandlight will surely make her older than her great grand mumma, with black bags under her eyes, her hair a frizzled mess, her face splotched with ink and hands clammy with sweat from holding her almost soggy parchment and quill. And would anyone look twice at such demon of a woman? Not in the least. Maybe, that's it. She's been lonely and no one would dare come close to her plain dry person, who'd rather argue and debate on a date than making inane monosyllabic conversation over ice-cream and rather splash water on beaches than dressing in all-too-revealig bikinis. And who in their right mind would prefer her bossy dominating tongue to a wet pink sloppy one? Surely not Ron and certainly not anyone she knws. Even her summer flings were nothing much but a distraction from the pain and worry of the wizarding world. So, that settles it. She'll be dateless lifeless Hermione. Maybe a racy book or two on weekends. And just that.
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