She sat in the Breakfast table and miserably contemplated her day. Double History of Magic, Potions, Care of Magical Creatures and Ancient Runes. She looked up at the ceiling and looked at the sky. Dark grey sky, with large stumbling clouds and splatters of rain. Miserable and dull, just like her.
Neville wouldn't even look at her.
There was something growing inside her. She had loads of time before class, she was early. She looked at her friends around her, and quickly excused herself. Neville shot her an anxious glance before she left.
She walked quickly through the hallway, something building inside her. In one dreadful moment, she realised she was going to cry. She slipped into a bathroom and realised it was Moaning Myrtle's bathroom. Hoping Myrtle was somewhere else, she walked to a cubicle and closed herself in.
She wasn't going to cry after all. She sat on the toilet lid and put her head in her hands. What was wrong with her? She wanted something, something outside her reach and it was driving her mad. Here she was, in a dingy bathroom while she should have been down with her friends, catching up on her work for class like she had always done. Why had she changed?
She stood up quickly and threw open the door. She stormed over to a mirror, wiped it clear with her hand, and examined her face.
Plain hair, tied up from her face. Red blotchy skin, not too many blemishes. Brown eyes, small and squinty, she should wear her glasses more when reading. Bushy eyebrows, a shade darker than her hair. Slightly crooked nose, smallish and pointy. Chapped small pink lips, with, thankfully, now straight teeth.
Not terrible. Not ugly. But not pretty. Not Lavender. Not girly. Not sexy.
She wanted boys to like her. She wanted life to be more enjoyable. Everything was so worrying now, so bad. All this worry about Harry and Voldemort and Death Eaters. She missed Sirius and she missed the old Harry. She wished fighting with Ron; they couldn't anymore because Harry got so irritated now. Now all they did was talk about Quidditch or play chess. It was the same kind of stuff that they had done since first year and Hermione wanted something more.
She'd ruined her relationship with kind hearted Neville. He wouldn't be her partner in Potions anymore and Ron and Harry had each other. Who was she going to be partnered with now? Oh Merlin, more for her to worry about.
Why was she even fretting about these things? She should be more considerate of the people around her. But she wasn't. Now she was obsessed with herself and her want for satisfaction. Maybe, if I was pretty, boys would like me and then…
And then what? She frowned at herself in the mirror. Idealistic thinking. Since when had she become so shallow anyway? Since when did she care?
She wiped her face, wiped her eyes which were just a little moist, and began to descend down to class. She sat down next to Ron and Harry in History of Magic and tried to pay attention.
Merlin, why were Harry and Ron so noisy? They were both giggling over something on their notes. She couldn't help but glance over at it. It was a doodle, Ron's doodling. It seemed like it was a boy and girl kissing, cartoon-like. The boy was extremely round and short, with a dozy expression on his face and hearts all around his head. The girl was thinner than the boy but just as short, with no curves at all to tell if it was a girl or boy. There was a somewhat angry expression on her face, as she kissed the boy. Her cheeks were coloured red, with distinct frowning lines on her face. Large scribbles seemed to symbolise hair.
It was her and Neville, she realised.
"What is that?" she said, tight lipped. She tried to stop herself shouting.
"Nothing," they both said, looking as guilty as each other.
She tore it off them and stared at it. Two things hit her: They must know about the kiss and that this cartoon was what they thought of her – some angry shapeless thing.
She didn't know which one upset her more.
She threw it back at them angrily, hitting Ron straight in the forehead. She turned away from them, her eyes on her teacher, cheeks and eyes burning. Her fingers tingled and itched.
"Hermione…"
"It's just a doodle…"
She ignored them, heart racing. She had always been an emotional person, but not to such an extent. Or maybe she had always been and she was just noticing it now. She seemed to be noticing a lot of new things about herself recently.
After class, she stormed off to the Potions classroom on her own and reached there first. She sat down at an empty desk and worried about who she would be partners with. Neville was going to avoid her like a plague and Harry and Ron were kind of inseparable. She didn't really have many friends, did she?
And Merlin, she didn't even have any girl friends. She had hated Fleur, she got so irritated with Luna and she couldn't stick Lavender and all the other girls in her dormitory. Her only real girl friend was Ginny and that girl was so naïve and immature that she was nearly as bad as Lavender.
The door opened.
"Goyle, I'm going to partner with Crabbe today. You made such a mess last class. I'm sure you don't mind."
Goyle's face remained the same and he grunted in reply. He sat down at a desk near the back. On his own.
Malfoy gave her a scathing glance and leaned down to hiss something in Crabbe's ear. Crabbe looked up at her, back at Malfoy, then guffawed stupidly. Goyle guffawed at the back, although there was no chance that he'd have heard.
She couldn't say a good comeback because she hadn't heard his remark and she had no real proof that it had been about her. Glowering and muttering to herself, she started getting her books out. Students started flooding in, and none of them sat beside her.
"Hey, Hermione, are you sitting here? Only there are no more desks for me and Lavender…"
But before she could reply to Seamus' question, Snape said, "Working on your own today, Miss Granger?" His eyes found Neville and he smirked slightly. "There's no need for you to have a whole desk to yourself, I'm sure you'll agree. The system is, and has always been, a pair per table." She nodded quickly. "Well, then… sit with Mr Goyle."
Without another word, she pushed her books into her already over-spilling bag and strode down to Goyle's desk. When she slammed her bag angrily down, it burst open, and all her books flooded down onto the floor.
"Miss Granger, pick them up immediately," Snape snapped coldly through the class' laugh.
She could hear Goyle guffawing beside her.
"Here, you hold this," she ordered, flustered beyond belief. She dumped her bag on him, picked up her books from the ground, threw them into the bag, and sat back up onto her seat.
She laughed when she saw Goyle's face, shocked, with her bag on his lap, weighing tons no doubt. She took it from him, trying not to laugh, and said, "Thank you."
If it had been Malfoy, he probably would have dumped the bag down onto the ground again or made a smart remark about how he'd just had a bath. Goyle hadn't done anything nice but it still registered in her mind that he hadn't done anything mean. He hadn't acted like a typical Slytherin.
So, she wasn't mean to have in Potions. She treated him no worse that she would have Neville in Potions. Goyle was terribly slow and sloppy and, sadly, rather dull. He guffawed if he heard Malfoy or Crabbe guffawing, even when it was terribly obvious he wasn't in on the joke, even when it was terribly noticeable that they were laughing at him.
Feeling sorry for him because he was obviously so clueless, she tried to explain some of the Potions to him. Needless to say, it was a bit of a lost cause.
"Hermione," Harry whispered to her through Potions, while passing to give his to Snape. "Why are you angry about the drawing? C'mon, even you must have noticed the nervous looks Neville was throwing you."
"What are you talking about, Harry?" she said in her best McGonagall voice.
"It just looked like he liked you, that's all."
So, they didn't know about the kiss. That was one worry off her list. Snape yelled at Harry to "Hurry it on." He smiled at her before going and she reluctantly smiled back. It was impossible to be angry at Harry when he was in a good mood.
"Oh yeah, Hermione," Harry said, on his way back down, "Ron said to ask: why are you being nice to Goyle?"
When the class ended, she saw Malfoy storming over to Goyle, scowling deeply. She nearly ran from the room.
By the end of the day, there were rumours going around of both Neville and Goyle fancying her.
"Not too bad, eh, Hermione?" Ginny said, winking. Everyone found the whole thing quite funny. Hermione didn't.
Nobody said that Hermione fancied the boys back though. Hermione wasn't "that type of girl." The only reason the rumour had spread was because Neville and Goyle weren't exactly beauty contestants. They'd be the only guys to like a girl like her. Well, that's what she thought, as she plopped on to her bed that night and listened to the other girls giggle.
"I think I'm going mad," she whispered to herself.
"Hermione! Did you say something? Hermione! Off in your own little world, are you? Hello!" Squeaky voices echoed at her from across the room. Hermione turned on her bed to look at them.
Pavarti was sitting cross-legged on the floor, hair in two neat plaits at the side of her face. She didn't have her makeup on but looked rather pretty anyway. Nice freckles decorated her nose.
Ginny had snuck in from her dormitory. She was wearing a string top and pyjamas ends. She was so thin, Ginny was, and so pale. Her hair was down and had gone slightly wavy – she'd been playing Quidditch in the rain.
Lavender was on her bed, lying on her stomach with her legs sprawled out. Her bright blonde hair was up in a bun and although she looked pretty, she wasn't as beautiful as normal. Hermione guessed it was all the effort she put into herself in the morning.
I could look like that, Hermione thought, if I was bothered.
They were all looking at her. Invitingly.
Hermione had always felt like an outsider with the girls but, without deeper contemplation, she realised a lot of that was her fault. She was the one who had thought herself better than them, thought them to be silly little girls, thought themselves to be way prettier than her just because her insecurities had grown.
Hermione did something she couldn't remember doing in such a long time. She got off her bed, the bed in the foremost corner, and plopped herself on Parvati's bed, beside Ginny, and said, in a convincingly girly voice, "So, what are we talking about then?"
She joined in and was received perfectly. So, she didn't really know nor care about the school's gossip. It was still fun to listen to and Pavarti really did do good impersonations. Lavender was very good at remembering the small details that everyone else forgot and Ginny had perfected the art of exaggeration.
Hermione, for one brief moment, felt satisfied.
But she knew that it was not enough.
Things will start heating up soon but it'll take a bit. Life isn't always majorly dramatic, although Hermione's going to be changing a lot soon and she's going to be doing some stuff that she wouldn't have done before. Our little Hermione – she's growing up fast, isn't she?
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