Part Two: Fighting a Losing Battle

Hermione Granger swept into the room quickly, the ends of her robes barely making it inside before she closed the door behind herself. Putting her ear to the door, she could hear a high-pitched giggle and a laughing tenor as they walked past her door, oblivious of their proximity to her. She closed her eyes and breathed a sigh of relief. She did not want to see Ron and Lavender at this particular juncture.

A long moment passed, and then it occurred to her to see exactly where she had escaped to. Opening her eyes, she saw the familiar landscape of Professor Flitwick's Charms classroom. Luckily, the professor himself seemed to have retired to his office, and Hermione was by herself.

She supposed that she should leave the classroom and go somewhere else, but in reality, she did not want to see anyone else. At all. Even Ginny or Harry couldn't rouse her from decidedly dejected and downtrodden mood.

She crossed over to the far side of the chamber, opened one of the many cabinets and removed a cushion from inside. Placing it upon the floor, she sat down and leaned back against the wall, quiet and alone.

What exactly was she doing here, she could not answer. And why the sight of Lavender and Ron had infuriated her so was beyond her. He deserved her. Annoying, giggly, devoted to that stupid subject of Divination- yeah, Ron could have her. Good. Great.

Oh, who was she kidding. It wasn't great at all. She hated them together. She hated every meal they ate together, every corridor they strolled in together, and every night they spent locked at the lips together. She hated the way Lavender always laughed at his stupid jokes, she hated the way he always smiled when she entered the room and she hated the looks everyone would give her when she walked by them together.

So every time they walked by, every time they shared a laugh, every time they were wrapped around each other, she just looked away. Pretending that she didn't see what was really there. Feigning indifference and acting nonchalant, even though she knew that she really wasn't fooling anyone and it wasn't doing much of anything for her at all.

Hermione folded her knees up to her chest, as the room started to grow cold around her. Summoning an empty cup from a nearby table, she muttered softly and it filled will a honey-brown liquid that steamed lightly in the cool chamber. She sipped it quietly as she considered what kind of a situation she was in.

What she had done to offend him she didn't know. Harry knew, of course, but he seemed so reluctant to tell her that she hadn't pressed the matter. Even through her anger at them, she wanted to keep Harry close; however, she knew she wasn't doing a very good job of it at all. She was pushing him away, just like she was pushing Ginny away, and for what? A silly boy who seemed to only have eyes for that irritating Lavender.

A silly boy who, she admitted, had captured her heart.

Tears started to fall into her tea, sliding down her cheeks and plunging downwards. Her hands trembled as she started to sob, and as her sadness turned into anger she threw the cup away, shattering it onto the stone floor below. Her chest heaved as she cried and all she could think about was how horrible her life was going, and that nothing would ever be right again.

Body shaking with unrestrained emotion, she leaned back against the cabinet doors and closed her weeping eyes. Self-pity was not a usual attribute of her character, but today was an exception. Ron's smiling face flashed in her mind, bright red hair shining and his eyes laughing. And she knew that she loved him, as much as one can love someone that doesn't reciprocate your feelings, and she knew that the pain she felt inside all came back to him, entirely and ultimately. Every argument with Ginny, every half-heartedly done assignment, every night spent in fitful dreams all started with him.

The force of her emotions startled her, and she opened her eyes, disorientated. Her mind stopped racing, her heart stopped beating against her chest, and she wiped away the tears that rested under her eyes. She let her emotions overtake her, as they swirled through her head and her body and she let them all go, all of her frustration and anger and sadness and unrequited love. She took a deep, heaving breath, and it was all gone, into the night air.

Hermione sat a moment, calming her mind and composing her features. She ran a hand under her eyes one final time, erasing any evidence of what had just happened, save for the red colour of her eyes that reflected in the pale moonlight. Somewhere outside a wolf howled, and a shiver ran down her spine.

Getting up, she put the pillow back where it belonged, took out her wand and repaired the broken teacup, vanishing the spilt tea from the floor. Straightening her robes, she brushed her hair back, took a deep breath, and headed for the door. After all, her homework needed to be done. And almost nothing could keep her from that.

She pushed all thoughts of Ron (and Lavender) far, far into the depths of what Harry said was her immensely expansive mind, and tried to think of nothing. However, she knew that she was fighting a losing battle, and that, in time, this would all happen again.