The Psychology of Impressionability: Advanced Introspection to Explorative Introspection

Author's note: Internal monologue is important to me in story-writing as it provides "substance" which is an important element. I have grown up reading a big variety of books, Harry Potter, Percy Jackson, George Orwell, PG Wodehouse, Agatha Christie, random nuclear physics novels. I appreciate both dialogues, monologues and internal monologues. Internal monologues, I have those all the time and some of my favourite books feature them so I have this inclination and sometimes write them but I usually add a fair bit of dialogue. This four-shot is however structured in such a way, that it ensures, that everything has its own rhythm and allotments and this will solely be Hermione's spiraling thought process.

in sadder news, it's been hard to update because my whole family's been down with COVID.
a report about other works I'm more passionate about:
- Prefection I- i have started to re-read the books, I'm on Azkaban and will work on Prefection which is OOTP to stick better to canon
- The Right Direction- the thing seems a bit weird: since i don't know how to write adults, might be hard to do it since I become one, yeah? also these stories might be kissy or weird which is not particularly my forte to be honest. (as far as writing is concerned, I mean)

Ron had been avoiding Hermione as of late. For her it was excruciatingly painful. She had no idea what to do. She had finally done it. She'd finally forced the truth out of him at the cost of their friendship. Of course, Ron seemed to have different ideas about what it meant for them getting together. Or at least that's what she wanted to be true. She wasn't ready to admit that she scared him away and was trying to start something prematurely.

She hated it. She hated it all. She hated the very existence of Voldemort. The existence of his death-eaters infuriated her. It was as if a group of strong people existed out there just to kill her and people like her. Except, instead of being an "as if" scenario, it was actually true. What sort of depravity was this? What sort of stupidity and intolerance existed in a world where she thought she belonged? After years of feeling peculiar and out-of-place, after setting fire on a set of papers in her room out of plain anger, after being made fun of for years at school, she found a place, or rather a place found her, where she would be welcome and free of judgment because she'd meet hoards of people like herself. That happened, but soon it was taken away from her.

In second year, she felt it. She felt endangered. And she was endangered, no less. She'd luckily just been petrified and if it wasn't just petrification, if she didn't see it through the mirror, she didn't want to think what could have happened. And then her mind went another place, different from the slumber of self-pity. Someone else had recently almost died, taken away from her.

Ron.

Ron had been taken away from her, and she'd let him. He hadn't even done anything that bad in retrospect. He just got a girlfriend. And it was she who reprimanded him for being jealous who this year, threw canaries at him, deserted him, cried and screamed at him for not picking up indirect cues. She couldn't bear to admit it, but she felt like a hypocrite.

She wished he would go to her for the dance, but he didn't. He didn't because he felt betrayed. It felt too sudden, didn't it? He seems happy enough to be asked out and then suddenly he ignores her and snogs another girl.

And then she ignores him, acts like he's not there.

Then he gets poisoned and goes into a state of comatose.

One of the last things she would have done to him wasn't leaving him a last kiss or a wholesome speech. It would be cursing him with canaries and drawing blood. From someone she loved, she couldn't stand to see hurt.

And it was he who always apologized.

Why?

She goes to the Slug Club with Harry, he probably feels left out and out of place and Merlin knows what. And then she says to him, "I only date good Quidditch players".

Ron is a good quidditch player. He is.

Ron is her best

Was her best friend.

Before she went ahead and cocked it up.

No, now she felt distance. She felt deserted. She felt different in some way. Something felt incomplete when they'd take their prefect rounds. Something for sure. She knew something was off but not exactly what it was. And why it was the way it was.

Now she knew somewhat.

She knew the reason he was away from her, why he ignored her, why he didn't dance with her. It was jealousy. And she looked down upon him because of it. She'd be mad at him about his jealousy with Krum.

And there she was, back to square one…

Her brain went on and on without pattern, in uncontrollable spirals. They lacked focus, agenda and structure, which was weird coming from the brain. This would make more sense if it came from the heart. Yes, it would, wouldn't it? The way forward was unjust. It was. Who was to say what would happen tomorrow? There was just one truth: Voldemort had to be defeated. And the people leading the race had to be Ron, Harry and she. That she was convinced about.

Her brain went on in uncontrollable spirals when Ron wasn't around. She knew it sounded cheesy, she was no damsel-in-distress, she'd never be one, she was sure. She did want independence, and freedom, and she knew she wanted somebody to love, somebody who cared for her, prioritized her. She knew she wanted Ron. She'd known it for way too long. When did being single and alone and being independent and ambitious go hand in hand? Ginny's a strong, independent girl who has no problem with wanting to be with Harry.

But then how'd she shift the paradigm? How would it be wise do so in times like these? Times like these where literally nothing is even remotely certain. How is it possible for Ron to agree to this? War was close. The clarion call was close. Bloodbaths and deathbeds were close and in this time how would she find time to start something with Ron?

But then he would be her source of comfort. He'd be there always. When there'd be war and sufferings and betrayal left and right, he'd be there. He'd be hers. She would have someone to trust. She'd have support and endless love and happiness. She'd see a ray of sunshine come out from the deep crevices of sadness and the contemptuous nature of reality that was yet to greet her. To greet them. To greet everyone in Hogwarts, in the wizarding world. All allies, half-bloods and muggle-borns and even muggles; this would impact everyone without a doubt and in all that chaos and uncertainty, he'd be her catharsis, if they were together.

She was tired of having him apologize always. It was getting almost ridiculous how she had the upper hand these times. She didn't want it. She didn't. She didn't know why he respected her so much. He'd argue with her logic, that would engage with her brain, he'd keep her in check, but he'd respect her. He'd bicker about inane things, she'd bicker back. Sometimes they bickered just because. No ill-intent, just because it was fun. It was their kind of fun. Not everyone understood it.

She couldn't bear any hostility, unspoken words and large distances anymore. This had to be fixed, and the fixer had to be her. And with firm conviction she decided, she had to fix it. Not for her, for them.