Disclaimer: Not mine, wish it was 'cause I'd be rich and famous, blah blah...
You Need a Cloak To Be Invisible
The soft moonlight shone into the dorm rooms, lighting up the curtains surrounding the bed where a certain boy with a lightning-shaped scar slept. Ron Weasley, who had forgotten to draw the curtains around his bed that night, lay awake staring at the figure in the darkness.
The Boy Who Lived. What's the big deal, anyway? He's human, just like me, just like Hermione... he's not even as intelligent as she is, either. He felt the love of his mother in a nearly unspeakable tragedy. If that happened to me, though, wouldn't Mother do the same? She would give her life for me, or for Percy or Bill or Fred or George or any of us, just like Harry's mother gave her life for Harry. In a way, she did. She lives for us. So why did the death of Harry's mother make him so special, so famous?
He rid this world of He Who Must Not Be Named, for a while, anyway. I grew up in peace because of him. I should be thankful. Why, though, do I feel like I live only in his shadow, only surviving in the leftovers of his fame?
Maybe because that's the truth.
So I'll never be a prefect like Percy or Bill. I'll never be as popular as Fred or George. But I have friends, I've helped Harry save the world enough times to be a true hero. I should be totally happy, lying here in this soft bed with the moonlight shining into the room. Any more that I want is merely arrogance and selfishness.
But Harry, you need a cloak to become invisible. I just need to walk down the street next to you.
It's darkness, here, with no one that really understands me, no one that sees me. It's darkness in your shadow, always. It's either Harry, or Harry and Ron... when has it ever been just Ron, just me? When has my ego, my selfish desires, ever had the chance to be fulfilled?
Next to my family, I am the Boy Who Has Accomplished Nothing. Next to Hermione, I am simply an idiot. Next to you, I am next to the savior of this society. I want to stand alone, someday, and truly be someone.
Is that even possible, or is it just another wild dream?
Unable to sleep, and unwilling to stay in the room where the Boy Who Lived slept, Ron slipped out into the hallways of the school.
***
The moonlight filtered into the room through cold stone windows. Hermione lay wide awake, daydreaming in the middle of the night.
The ceilings here are high, so high I can hardly see them. I wonder why this school makes everything so large, so great, so much more than it needs to be. Maybe that's because this is what the whole wizarding society is- unnecessarily strict, unbearably competitive. I can succeed in school if I study, but can I ever really be someone without a stroke of random luck?
Then again, I suppose luck is what makes this world go round. Luck, or God, depending on what one chooses to believe. Which is more practical in our world here, a God that controls our every uncooperative move and unforgiving thoughts, however much we resist against Him, or a simple Luck that lets us live in whatever dissatisfactory way we choose to live, interfering without judgement to force a series of events on us that we call life?
I am performing excellently. I have made wonderful scores in all of my classes, and surely my knowledge will help the world someday. Surely someday I will become important, and great, and for now I should be thankful for the life I am leading. But then why do I want something more, why do I feel now like there is no one that I am important to, no one I ever will be important to, despite all my friends and the people I have helped?
Maybe because that's the truth.
Maybe I'm just being selfish, this is simply my ego talking. But Harry, with all your fame supporting you, you need to hide everything you are to resist being loved. I need merely to walk through the school halls, textbooks in my arms, trying my best to live how I can.
It's darkness, here, with no one that really understands me, no one that sees me. It's darkness in the depths of solitude, always. Never have I seen the world from the eyes of another, another who was so close to me that I could want to die in their arms. When will my crazy dreams, my selfish desires have the chance to be fulfilled?
Next to the Muggles, I am another teenage girl. Next to the wizarding world, I am another witch in training. Next to Ron, I am the over-ambitious girl who cares for nothing more than rules. Next to Harry, I am next to the savior of this society. I want to stand alone, someday, and truly be someone.
Is that even possible, or is it just another wild dream?
Unable to sleep, and unwilling to stay in the room with such ostentatiously high ceilings, Hermione slipped out into the hallways of the school.
***
The soft moonlight illuminated Hermione's face to Ron and Ron's face to Hermione. For a second, they were unable to do anything but stare at one another.
"What are you doing here at night?" Hermione asked, about to indicate the fact that the rules forbade such behavior.
"I could ask the same of you," Ron pointed out. "As for me, I was just going for a walk."
"At midnight in a haunted school?"
"I come from a wizarding family, I'm used to things being haunted. I couldn't sleep, so I decided to take a walk."
Hermione still looked suspicious. However, she nodded abruptly.
"And you?" Ron asked, looking at her perhaps even more curiously than she was looking at him.
"I was... well... the same, really."
Ron shrugged, apparently accepting that as the truth.
That's what I really love about him, Hermione thought, the word 'love' surprising even her, he doesn't ask too many questions, but rather just accepts the world for what it is. I think he has a higher chance of ever being truly happy than I do.
"Here, neither Mrs. Norris or Filch usually walk down this way. If you don't want to get caught, you should follow me," Ron started walking down an obscure little path to the left of the painting of the Fat Lady. Hermione smiled to herself and followed, happy for once to be with someone who knew how to truly be disobedient, unlike her.
The hall was dark, and Hermione whispered a few words, making a light come from her wand.
"Are you crazy?!" Ron whispered not quite angrily, but rather rudely, "They're bound to see that!"
Hermione looked amused.
"I added a charm so that only we could see it, don't worry."
"Oh."
That's what I really love about her, Ron thought, the word 'love' surprising even him, she always knows exactly what to do, and she's always totally prepared for whatever life throws at her. I think she has a higher chance of ever being truly happy than I do.
They stood in silence, the magical light surrounding them, for a few minutes that seemed like an eternity. And then, as if it was meant to happen all along, Ron leaned over and kissed Hermione.
"Hermione, I know this is weird, but I just want you to know that the only way I will ever learn to be myself is with you. Does that make any sense?"
Hermione smiled a strange, somehow knowing smile.
"It makes perfect sense, I promise. Ron, I love you."
"I love you, too."