They do not understand me. After all, how could they. I give them no chance to. My two best friends, my only friends to be exact. Maybe it is the fact that they are boys. But that excuse would make it too easy. None of my roommates would understand me either, if I ever chose to confide in them. Of course, I never do.
I like my books, to snuggle up in some dark corner of the library and simply to read. To delve into the world of pages, forgetting about the girl I have to be in the real world. Madame Pince only smiles her knowing small smile at me, she understands my need to be alone, to hide in my refugee.
"Come on, Hermione, you cant actually have to spend all this time with your books. I mean, we only get so much homework." Ron keeps complaining.
"Not everyones world revolves around homework only, Ron. Some try to make more of their lives except passing the year. Not for school, but for life we learn." And I do it again. I play the little Miss Know-it-all. And Ron sulks as he usually does and runs off to chatter with Dean.
I feel the tears pricking at my eyes. But they never come out. I am too good at hiding. Or am I really that cold?
"You really spend a lot of time in the library." Harry tries to reason with me. "Ron just thinks that you like the books more than us. Try to understand him." he prods gently.
"I do try." But I fail. But he does not even try at all, at least I believe that.
I am a good girl, decent, honest, fair, friendly and helpful, even selfless. I aid Neville in his miserable attempts at potions, so he will not fail Professor Snapes class. I console Ginny when she is upset about Harry constantly ignoring her. I always do my homeworks and please myself as much as my teachers. I do as much as I can to help Harry in his fight against Voldemort. I give my friends creative gifts for Christmas and their birthdays.
But it is not enough. It is never enough. Who am I trying to fool? And the question keeps repeating in my mind: Who am I really, without any acting, if I were stripped of my studies, my thirst for knowledge, my curiosity, my wish to help, what would remain? But I fear the answer, fear that I would not like the left-over Hermione at all.
"Lemon drop?" the headmaster asks me and of course I decline. "I have to say you are certainly the best choice for the position, Miss Granger!" he tells me with a small smile, but the blue eyes seem to penetrate my mind. I have been made Head Girl.
Of course do I present my new title to Harry and Ron. Of course they congratulate. Of course they pity me, for Draco Malfoy has been made Head Boy. Meaningless.
"Hermione" Ron pulls me to the side and winks at Harry who grins slightly and leaves to catch up with Ginny. He is nervous, his face blushes and takes on the colour of his hair. He keeps fumbling at his robes with this twitching fingers. A schoolboy crush, one would think. But I know better. It is much more to him.
"Hermione" he stocks again "I" his shoes seem to be very interesting "I love you." He stutters and blushes even more. Then he dares raising his eyes to mine and the hope is so clearly written onto his face. But when he catches the impassive look in my gaze, he turns away.
"I know, Ron" I say, though it is not what I think. "And I am sure about how much it cost you to say it. Really, I understand, Ron. Just, you can not expect an answer from me." Something in me says: shut the hell up. Better be quiet! But too late.
"So that is it?" his eyes are disbelieving. "I just declared you my undying love and you…you acknowledged it. Nothing else. Do you know what courage it took me to say this to you. To admit my feelings." he draws back.
"But no, you choose to remain the unreachable Hermione, the godess of wisdom. And someone as low as Ron Weasley could never live up to your expectations. Fine with me." his voice has turned into a hiss and with that he leaves.
I watch his retreating back, but he never turns around. "Do something, say something, go after him" my mind shouts, but I keep leaning onto the blank wall. And I do not cry.
"Something wrong, my dear?" Madame Pince asks me. I must look really terrible, if she does that. Of course I shake my head and retreat into the book sections. I pass the Romance genre on the right and for a moment I stare down the aisle.
But no book could ever help me, for all my love for them, they can help me with many of the great mysteries of the world, but not with love.
I know I should think about what I am going to say to Ron tomorrow, or how to explain my side of what happened to Harry. For no doubt Ron has painted me in the blackest colours possible by now. And I envy him,for he can go to Harry and Harry will listen to his complaints. But when he goes to see Harry, where shall I go? Well, yes, I know some girls in my dormitory who would surely listen and try to understand, but I refuse to tell them.
"What is going to happen to our relationship now?" I ask myself. I know how cruel I was. And I do not want to jeopardize our friendship. But I can not forget how cold his voice sounded, not at all like the voice I knew and liked so much. And I want to hold onto whatever else we could possibly have. I do not want to loose this, or him.
"Who am I?" A question I will never know the answer to. But he could maybe help me bring a little light into the unsolveable mystery of this question. Maybe I could explore a side of me I did not know before and maybe I would like it.
I do not want to think about what will happen the next time I see Ron. But I do and the answer is always the same: I do not know.
I only know that I do not want our relationship to have come to an end!
