Chapter 5
AN: Thank you to my wonderful reviewers- it's very helpful and encourages me to continue.
Hermione hurried along one of the school's lengthy corridors to the great hall, barely noticing the students dodging out of her way. Her mind as usual was working on several different levels at once. Hermione knew how much was expected out of her, how much she expected from herself and sometimes felt the pressure would crush her.
Firstly there was the schoolwork. Hermione was not stupid, this in itself would be labelled as understatement by the general population. She knew that she was in the middle of a war and bigger things were happening. She sometimes looked back at her priorities and laughed, Ron certainly did. Contrary to popular belief Hermione was not an anal-retentive robot, it was hard to be defined by exam results. And yet...
To a certain extent she was safe when defined by those results. They were consistently good due to a combination of hard work (as she often pointed out sanctimoniously to her best friends) and also (as she could admit when her modest outer shell was down) a large degree of talent. The problem with being as analytical as Hermione was is that in those moments of loneliness that everyone experienced, the only thing available to analyse is yourself, and the results of this are rarely cheerful in such moments. Hermione recognised that it was a fear of people disliking her for the flaws in her character that meant she pushed this to the front.
This was why she loved the people around her. Neville never failed to care about people despite the fact that he needed caring for more than anyone. Luna had puzzled and exasperated Hermione at first, although this may have been something to do with an apparent crush on Ron, but Luna never failed to see the magic in a situation where Hermione was forced to dissect it. Ginny was more like Hermione, practical and forceful, but with a mischievous side, a little darker than the twins. Harry was a hero. Harry may have felt he was thrust into this role by the circumstances of his birth, Hermione had spent more time in the past five years with him than with her family and knew that it was more than that. It was his character, and as if Harry thought every time someone was kept alive because of him, he was saving his parents.
Then there was Ron. Ron was illogical and tremendously loyal. He was more perceptive than people realised because he was also too bloody impulsive (Hermione knew she was spending far too much time with him). He was aggravating and funny and oblivious and he was always doing an annoying grin and forcing her to agree with him. Not Fair.
So while levels of her brain worried about schoolwork and analysed and worried about herself her friends and boyfriend there was an over-riding concern. Hermione was embroiled in a war based on principles thousands of years old in a world she had known about for something over five years. She was scared stiff. The entire world lived in fear that anyone could be the next victim, and Hermione knew and loved nearly all of the prime targets. It was like...
Hermione stepped into the Great Hall and let her eyes rest on the small group who could never be quite apart from the war. They were laughing. It was what Hermione had always felt to be her worst failing. She could never let her self go and just live in the present. Years of knowing Ron, a master in the art, had helped, and when he kissed her this power magically transferred and the world did stop, but only for a moment (even if some of them were rather long moments).
Hermione slipped in next to her friends acknowledging their welcomes and plastering on a smile. Ron gave her a look as if he knew she was faking and immediately involved her in the conversation. Hermione focused on the happy faces before her and let the war slide away for a few more glorious moments. What else could she do?