Where I Don't Belong
by Wing'dCallisto
Disclaimer: Harry Potter is J.K. Rowling's creation, but they're owned by Warner Brothers. (Evil multi million dollar corporations...) Evanescence own themselves, and they wrote 'Exodus'. Well, Amy Lee wrote it...
Author's Note: Song used in this fanfiction is 'Exodus' by Evanescence. I don't own either of them. Unfortunately. Sorry it's angsty and Hermione is kinda OOC; I tried, really, I did. I just didn't succeed this time. Dammit. By the way, all the words in the [brackets] are Hermione's letter, in case you haven't worked it out. Ordinarily, I'd put it in italics, but for some reason the formatting won't work when I eventually upload it. Hmm. I always do something wrong.
Summary: Hermione writes letters to Ron, after they say goodbye. Kinda angsty.
--------------------------**
---
My black backpack's stuffed with broken dreams
20 bucks should get me through the week
Never said a word of discontentment
Fought it a thousand times but now
I'm leaving home
---
Hermione sat at her writing desk and pulled out a fresh piece of parchment, smoothing it with her splayed and ringless fingers. Thin like spiders, they crept towards her inkpot, in which sat an expensive-looking quill. Light caught on it's gossamer-thin threads, which shone golden in the gradually fading twilight.
Her eyes were drawn towards the empty fireplace which was situated on the other side of the room. The dying embers glowed from between the coals. Fragments of paper had been carelessly tossed in there, their sides curling and singed. Hermione glanced back at the fresh sheet of parchment, wondering if this one would end up in the fire, just like all the others had.
[Dear Ron,] she wrote, her head bent over the paper and her eyes screwed up in fierce concentration. [It's been awhile, hasn't it? Well, that's a lie-- I write to you about five times a day. I just never send you my letters. I've been meaning to, though, although I believe that this one will end up in the fire, just as the others have.
How are you? You could say I'm alright. I took a job with the Ministry, worked at it for two years, and saved up enough money to go abroad. It seemed like a good idea at the time. The magical community was in ruin when I left. Yes, Voldemort was gone, but ... God, Ron, everything was so messed up. I didn't know if you were alive or insane. And Harry was dead. If I didn't get away I probably wouldn't have made it.]
---
Here in the shadows
I'm safe, I'm free
I've nowhere else to go but
I cannot stay where I don't belong
---
[You married Lavender, didn't you? I saw her in Diagon Alley last week. She sounded happy. Told me I should come around for dinner or something of that sort. I didn't refuse, but I didn't accept. Congratulations, Ron, isn't that what you've always wanted?]
She wiped the tears from her eyes, careful not to smudge the ink. Anger poured out of her heart and onto the paper, and her writing gradually became less neat and ordered into something spindly and messy.
[Not that I care, of course. What I want and what you want are two entirely different things, aren't they? No, you wouldn't have cared, you never did. I think you would have gotten the picture if you took the time to actually think about me instead of yourself. Or if you'd stopped trying to get someone else to go out with you. It was everyone but me, wasn't it...
I was never one for self-pity, and you know that, Ron. Although I can't help but feel this way. I hate you. I hate you because you made me feel like I wasn't human half the time, even though you didn't actually recognize what you were doing. Not that it matters anymore.]
---
Two months pass by and it's getting cold
I know I'm not lost
I am just alone
---
[But as much as I hate you, I love you. You taught me everything I know. Not academically, of course. But when referring to the real world and true life. I wanted to stay with you forever, even if everyone else thought I belonged to Harry. I never belonged to anyone, but my heart belonged to you.
I miss you and I wish that you'd come and find me, and then I could tell you everything that I always wanted to say but never could. But I can't. I had my chance with you, but I lost it, and that is the most painful thing imaginable. It's my fault that I couldn't have you.
--Hermione]
Hermione got up and left the still-glistening ink to dry. She looked out of her window, extending a hand and brushing away the cobwebs that laced the top of the window. The stars had come out, and it was a beautiful clear evening. The earth basked in their pure light. She wiped her eyes, and her hand settled at her side. Mouth twisted in a cruel smile, she turned away from the city, from society, from the world where she'd once felt so comfortable and safe.
---
But I won't cry
I won't give up
I can't go back now
Waking up is knowing who you really are
---
Once again she lifted up the quill and quickly scribbled a post-script.
[P.S. I can give you nothing but my deepest love.]
Before she could change her mind, she called her owl off its perch. Hedwig had once been Harry's, but he had left her to Hermione. She stroked the bird's soft white feathers, her eyes dreamily half-closed. 'Just make sure he gets it, alright?' She whispered, slipping the parchment into an envelope and attatching it to the owl's leg.
Hedwig softly nipped at Hermione's finger before spreading her wings and soaring through the window. Hermione watched the bird until she disappeared from sight. Hermione tossed her brown hair over her shoulder, shying away from the starlight, and she melted into the shadows where she felt she belonged.
---
Show me the shadow where true meaning lies
So much more is made in empty eyes
--
by Wing'dCallisto
Disclaimer: Harry Potter is J.K. Rowling's creation, but they're owned by Warner Brothers. (Evil multi million dollar corporations...) Evanescence own themselves, and they wrote 'Exodus'. Well, Amy Lee wrote it...
Author's Note: Song used in this fanfiction is 'Exodus' by Evanescence. I don't own either of them. Unfortunately. Sorry it's angsty and Hermione is kinda OOC; I tried, really, I did. I just didn't succeed this time. Dammit. By the way, all the words in the [brackets] are Hermione's letter, in case you haven't worked it out. Ordinarily, I'd put it in italics, but for some reason the formatting won't work when I eventually upload it. Hmm. I always do something wrong.
Summary: Hermione writes letters to Ron, after they say goodbye. Kinda angsty.
--------------------------**
---
My black backpack's stuffed with broken dreams
20 bucks should get me through the week
Never said a word of discontentment
Fought it a thousand times but now
I'm leaving home
---
Hermione sat at her writing desk and pulled out a fresh piece of parchment, smoothing it with her splayed and ringless fingers. Thin like spiders, they crept towards her inkpot, in which sat an expensive-looking quill. Light caught on it's gossamer-thin threads, which shone golden in the gradually fading twilight.
Her eyes were drawn towards the empty fireplace which was situated on the other side of the room. The dying embers glowed from between the coals. Fragments of paper had been carelessly tossed in there, their sides curling and singed. Hermione glanced back at the fresh sheet of parchment, wondering if this one would end up in the fire, just like all the others had.
[Dear Ron,] she wrote, her head bent over the paper and her eyes screwed up in fierce concentration. [It's been awhile, hasn't it? Well, that's a lie-- I write to you about five times a day. I just never send you my letters. I've been meaning to, though, although I believe that this one will end up in the fire, just as the others have.
How are you? You could say I'm alright. I took a job with the Ministry, worked at it for two years, and saved up enough money to go abroad. It seemed like a good idea at the time. The magical community was in ruin when I left. Yes, Voldemort was gone, but ... God, Ron, everything was so messed up. I didn't know if you were alive or insane. And Harry was dead. If I didn't get away I probably wouldn't have made it.]
---
Here in the shadows
I'm safe, I'm free
I've nowhere else to go but
I cannot stay where I don't belong
---
[You married Lavender, didn't you? I saw her in Diagon Alley last week. She sounded happy. Told me I should come around for dinner or something of that sort. I didn't refuse, but I didn't accept. Congratulations, Ron, isn't that what you've always wanted?]
She wiped the tears from her eyes, careful not to smudge the ink. Anger poured out of her heart and onto the paper, and her writing gradually became less neat and ordered into something spindly and messy.
[Not that I care, of course. What I want and what you want are two entirely different things, aren't they? No, you wouldn't have cared, you never did. I think you would have gotten the picture if you took the time to actually think about me instead of yourself. Or if you'd stopped trying to get someone else to go out with you. It was everyone but me, wasn't it...
I was never one for self-pity, and you know that, Ron. Although I can't help but feel this way. I hate you. I hate you because you made me feel like I wasn't human half the time, even though you didn't actually recognize what you were doing. Not that it matters anymore.]
---
Two months pass by and it's getting cold
I know I'm not lost
I am just alone
---
[But as much as I hate you, I love you. You taught me everything I know. Not academically, of course. But when referring to the real world and true life. I wanted to stay with you forever, even if everyone else thought I belonged to Harry. I never belonged to anyone, but my heart belonged to you.
I miss you and I wish that you'd come and find me, and then I could tell you everything that I always wanted to say but never could. But I can't. I had my chance with you, but I lost it, and that is the most painful thing imaginable. It's my fault that I couldn't have you.
--Hermione]
Hermione got up and left the still-glistening ink to dry. She looked out of her window, extending a hand and brushing away the cobwebs that laced the top of the window. The stars had come out, and it was a beautiful clear evening. The earth basked in their pure light. She wiped her eyes, and her hand settled at her side. Mouth twisted in a cruel smile, she turned away from the city, from society, from the world where she'd once felt so comfortable and safe.
---
But I won't cry
I won't give up
I can't go back now
Waking up is knowing who you really are
---
Once again she lifted up the quill and quickly scribbled a post-script.
[P.S. I can give you nothing but my deepest love.]
Before she could change her mind, she called her owl off its perch. Hedwig had once been Harry's, but he had left her to Hermione. She stroked the bird's soft white feathers, her eyes dreamily half-closed. 'Just make sure he gets it, alright?' She whispered, slipping the parchment into an envelope and attatching it to the owl's leg.
Hedwig softly nipped at Hermione's finger before spreading her wings and soaring through the window. Hermione watched the bird until she disappeared from sight. Hermione tossed her brown hair over her shoulder, shying away from the starlight, and she melted into the shadows where she felt she belonged.
---
Show me the shadow where true meaning lies
So much more is made in empty eyes
--