I'm
Fifteen. And I'm A Loser.
A/N: Yes, I am Elani
Wrapdon. (if you're wondering why I'm on your favorites list, or why you got an
AuthorAlert for me.) Yes, I know a lot of my fics are missing. I purposely
deleted them. Why? Hmm, well, I've sort of started over. Completely. I wanted a
new start in fan fiction. If you loved one of my old stories so completely that
you desperately need it (although I doubt this case will happen), then e-mail
me at GirlyGurl17@aol.com and describe
the story to me, and I'll send it to you. Why did I keep Cold of the Morning
out of all my stories? It was my favorite story, and I also happen to be
writing a sequel series to it. ^_^ So look out for that coming soon. Well,
here's the story. My first ever R/H story, from the perspective of Hermione.
Eeeep! Tell me what you think.
I'm fifteen. And I am
a loser. I know what you're thinking…how could I possibly say such a horrible
thing about myself? Well, you don't know my perspective. Love's a game. And I'm
the loser.
I'm fifteen. And I've
never been kissed. Just like that terrible Muggle movie that my parents rented
for me…minus the whole nerd thing. No, wait, I take that back. I'm considered a
book nerd. Great.
I'm fifteen. And I'm
not in love. I do not have a crush. Well, maybe except for him. No, I
can't think of him. I'm sure I blush every time I do, and it sort of doesn't
help that he sits next to me in every class, and that he's one of my best
friends. UGH!
I'm fifteen. And I
just hissed at Lavender Brown to take a note on what Professor McGonagall was
saying, because didn't she want to get a good grade on the test coming up?
Lavender just glared at me. She's mad at me.
I'm fifteen. And
Lavender Brown and Parvati Patil are mad at me because I won't let them give me
a makeover. Every time they see me, it's "ooooh, Lavender, don't you think
Hermione would look darling in this pink halter???" or "ooooh, Parvati, don't
you think Hermione's hair would look great with this charm???" I think I'd
rather choke to death than to be made over by those two. I'd end up looking
like…let's not go there.
I'm fifteen. And I'm
about to go to Potions class, where I will be tortured by Snape and Draco
Malfoy, the only two people who hate me here at Hogwarts. No, I take that
back…there's got to be more people that hate me. Occasionally Ron hates me…but
I won't think about him. Sigh.
I'm fifteen. And now
I'm in the common room, yelling at Ron and Harry to do their homework. Don't
they want to get good grades, I ask them? They laugh it off, giving me a weird
look. At least, I know Ron's giving me a weird look. He's giving me a
weird look. Why do I know? Because I can't seem to keep my eyes off of him. So
I storm up to my room instead.
I'm fifteen. And I'm being
cornered in my room by Lavender and Parvati. What do they want? Oh, peachy.
It's another one of their
lets-scare-Hermione-into-letting-us-give-her-a-makeover ideas. They're so dense
sometimes. They think they can scare me. What can they do? Duff me up? Put a
spider in my hair? Tell Ron I'm mad about him? Noooo, I won't think about that.
No one knows…no one knows. Nooneknowsnooneknowsnooneknows.
I'm fifteen. And I'm
back down in the common room now that Lavender and Parvati have given up. Once
and for all I hope. Oh no, there he is. Ohhhh, someone hide me. Before I
turn five shades of red in front of him. Eeep.
I'm fifteen. And I'm
a big girl…I can handle that he's coming over here. I can handle this. I can
handle this. I can…no I can't!!! I can still make a mad dash to the library or
something. Away from him!!
I'm fifteen. And my
plan of running away from Ron didn't work. He grabbed my arm and said he needed
to talk to me. Why me? Why does he want to talk to me? Maybe about homework,
and maybe it's about Quidditch, as Harry's out practicing and he has no one to
talk sports with. Maybe…no, I won't think things like that.
I'm fifteen. And Ron
just asked me to the All Hallow's Eve ball. He's kidding, right? I'm sure I'm
so red that he must think I'm going to explode. Maybe he knows what's going on
in my head, and he's just trying to humor me. Or maybe he really means it…
I'm fifteen. And I
just said yes to Ron. I just said YES, that I'd go to the ball with him! Oh,
gads, what did I get myself into? Now he's the same color red as me, maybe he
didn't believe I'd actually say yes, or maybe it really was a joke. Would he
do that?
I'm fifteen. And Ron
just kissed me! ME! Oh, my head
is spinning, and I think I'm going to…
I'm fifteen. And I just woke up inside the infirmary. Supposedly I
passed out. Ron and Harry are here, as well as George and Fred. The twins have
the most horribly mischievous look on their faces, and they have something in
their hands. It doesn't make me feel better that my stomach is filling up with
dread. Oh oh oh!
I'm fifteen. And my life is as good as over. George and Fred took a
picture of Ron and I kissing, and they're most please with themselves. No, my life isn't over…their lives are
over! Especially if they show anyone! What'll Harry think? Oh ho, he looks
happy. No, I take that back. Our dear friend Harry looks like he's going to
have an asthmatic attack he's laughing so hard. Great.
I'm fifteen. And did I mention I was a loser?
A/N: Yes, I know. It was a bit out of character. But what did you
think? The way I wrote it was a bit weird…but I think it worked. Well, please
tell me what you think. Maybe I'll do more R/H stories after this if enough
people like it. Thanks everyone! PS, an very very BIG thanks to KrissyKat for beta-reading this for me. Sorry,
~*Tinkerbell*~, but you weren't on!!! ^_^ You get the next one, the one I was
telling you about before. –Eliza
