SongFic. "I'm not that Girl" from Wicked.
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Hermione was sitting by the lake. She thought of what just happened. Harry could have left Angelina. Harry could have chosen someone else. But he didn't. He loved Angelina, even if she doesn't love him. She remembered Ron's words. "Harry doesn't love you! And there's someone out there who does!" 'Who could that be?' she had thought. Of course, now she knew he meant himself. But she still thought of Harry constantly. She remembered their study groups, how she hoped it would turn it into more. It didn't though. She thought of how Harry loved-no, adored Angelina. But she couldn't forget how sometimes he would look at her.

Hands touch, eyes meet. Sudden silence, sudden heat. Hearts leap in a giddy
whirl.
He could be that boy, but I'm not that girl.

She remembered how she would daydream during History of Magic that Harry would fall deeply and madly in love with her. He would never forget her birthdays, anniversaries, or national holidays. He would never cease to give her a gift. There wouldn't have to be a reason, besides of course, that he loved her.

Don't dream too far. Don't lose sight of who you are. Don't remember that
rush of joy.
He could be that boy, but I'm not that girl.

Hermione looked into the lake and saw her reflection. Bushy hair, dirty robes (from running through the mud to get to the lake) and completely unattractive. How could anyone love her? But somehow, sometimes, she thought he could.

Every so often, they long to steal to the land of what-might–have-been
But that doesn't soften the ache we feel
When reality sets back in.

She looked back at the lake. This time, she saw her reflection, and two others. Walking, arms around each other, looking lovingly into each other eyes. It was Harry and Angelina. Hermione got up quickly and ran. She didn't know exactly where, but she ran. She stopped behind a tree and looked back at the lake. She saw Harry and Angelina looking around for something, or someone. Well, actually, she saw Harry looking for someone. Angelina was tugging at his sleeve, obviously wanting to leave. Eventually, Harry gave up. He looked over to where Hermione was standing. He saw her, and gave a weak smile. A weak, but beautiful smile, as if to say, "I really do love you, but I don't know how to get rid of Angelina." Then Angelina pulled him away. Hermione scrambled back behind the tree so the next time Harry looked, if he looked, he wouldn't see her.

Blithe smile, lithe limb. She who's winsome, she wins him.
Golden hair, with a gentle curl. That's the girl he chose.
And heaven knows, I'm not that girl...

'Was he looking for me?' Hermione thought a while later, when she was sure it would be safe to go back to the lake. Of course not. He doesn't love me, he loves her. But he did look at me. The smile, oh that smile! That smile that said so much! 'But did it say what you think it said?' a thought of doubt said.

Don't wish, don't start. Wishing only wounds the heart.
I wasn't born for the rose and pearl.
There's a girl I know. He loves her so.

She soon realized whom she was thinking of earlier. Never forget birthdays, the gifts, and the smiles. She was remembering an old boyfriend. She was remembering Ron. But could she really go out with Ron again? Especially when she loved Harry?

I'm not that girl...