"I'm sick of Ron at the moment, I don't know what I'm supposed to have done..."
For what seems like the millionth time in the past few days I'm left asking myself what I could have possibly done to offend Ron so.
Things were going so well for us after he and I decided to attend Slughorn's Christmas party together. He was actually being nice to me more than he was mean. But something must have happened to him because for the past few days he's been downright short with me, practically giving me the silent treatment.
And now he thinks I've insulted his Quidditch skills, when I most certainly did not! I was under the impression that Harry slipped the Felicis in his drink and so was he! Why is it that, now we know Harry was just using some sort of psychological trick, Ron thinks I believe he's rubbish at Quidditch!
If I had thought he was rubbish, I wouldn't have confunded McLaggen at Keeper tryouts, I wouldn't have stepped outside my shy shell and kissed him on the cheek before matches, I wouldn't have quietly sung "Weasley is MY King" under my breath while the whole school cheered him on…honestly. And he has the nerve to go off on me now?
What did I DO? He wouldn't be this frosty towards me if I hadn't offended him in some way. I've pored over the last few days in my head several times, trying to see if I made one snide remark or an odd gesture that could have caused him to act this way. Everytime I come up with a complete blank. I've been perfectly nice to him lately because he's been perfectly nice to me!
He's so bloody confusing!
Tsk, tsk, listen to yourself cursing…
Oh, bugger off, I'm allowed to curse inside my head; and it's not my fault, seeing as I've been continuously provoked these past few days.
I've been going back and forth all the way up to the common room and still, nothing makes sense to me. I'm really hoping he sorts himself out before the party, because he would certainly make a poor excuse for a date if he plans on spending the evening sulking by the punch bowl. I have the perfect outfit picked out and everything…ME, Hermione Jane Granger, picked out an outfit well in advance for a party! The last time I was this excited about an event was the Yule Ball, and I'm twice as excited now because I finally have the date I've always wanted.
If he ever gets over himself, that is.
I give the Fat Lady the password without even really thinking about it.
Maybe I'll just go find him and walk him into a corner so he can't escape from me. Then I'll ask him what's really bothering him, and things will be set right again. I'd hate for us to have made so much progress since term started to lose it all on some misunderstanding. Yes, yes, that's precisely what I'll do. Just talk to him.
TALK, Hermione, don't snap. Whatever you do, you won't fix anything by scolding or berating him. Even if he tries your temper, just stay calm. Remember the greater cause here; you want things to work out. You want to make it right again. Let him say prattish things if he must, but just let him get it all out. Do NOT jump down his throat…
With one last sigh, I walked through the portrait hole, determined to find him and figure everything out.
Deep breaths, Hermione, deep breaths. He'll want to work it out, too, you know he will. Even if he's angry, he never hurts you intentionally. He may be thick but he's not cruel. He just makes stupid decisions someti—
Suddenly I can't feel my legs. My mind is once again wiped blank. I feel as though I'm traveling by Portkey but with nowhere to go. The jerking feeling behind my navel and the swirling of my mind is nothing compared to the frozen icy feeling of my heart crashing down to the pits of my stomach. I want to turn and run but I'm stuck in time, I can't tear my eyes away from the scene before me.
Ron, MY Ron, Ron that I have been in love with for ages, one that I THOUGHT could never hurt me intentionally, is there. And while just mere seconds ago I was preparing myself for self-restraint so I wouldn't jump down his throat, he seems to have jumped down someone else's—in an entirely different sense of the phrase.
It's like watching a bad car accident. Awful to witness and yet I can't stop staring. He's there, and…and he's with Lavender. That no-good, conniving, despicable PRAT is snogging Lavender Brown, right in the middle of the Gryffindor common room, in plain view of everyone in the House.
I feel the stinging burn of tears forming behind my eyes. My hands have gone clammy and my heart is still frozen at the bottom of my stomach. My breaths are short and ragged, and the room has seemed to fade away into the background. All my eyes can focus on are the two of them, wrapped around each other, kissing as if they need each other for survival.
But I'm the one that needs him for survival. I'm the one that should be with him right now. Granted, not in the middle of the common room, I have more decency and modesty than that…that…there's not even a word in the English language that can properly sum up the indecency of Lavender Brown. She knows I can see them, she knows everyone can see them. And she doesn't care! She doesn't care about anyone but herself, the self-righteous, stuck up, horrible little…
Don't waste more time trying to label her, Hermione. Get OUT. Get out of the common room as soon as possible. Just go. GET OUT.
With a calmness that is almost eerie, I feel myself turn and walk back out of the portrait hole. For Merlin knows why, I take one last glimpse of the two of them in that armchair (where I will NEVER sit again if I can help it) before I whip my head away and I go to find a quiet classroom where I can just sit.
I find one, and while sitting on the desk my mind again wanders over the past few weeks and I try to figure out why and how I got here. I feel the tears begin to sting again, but I hold them back. Crying is not going to help at all. It just won't. He's with her now. She'll be the one making him happy, not me. I missed my chance.
But HOW? I thought…we were…we were going to go to the party together! We were! And he seemed excited about it! And then he went all Jack Frost on me and stopped speaking to me for no reason and now he's kissing someone else!
I DIDN'T DO ANYTHING TO DESERVE THIS!
I pound my fist into the desk I'm sitting on, and then I grab my wand. I mutter a spell that makes canaries fly around my head, and I watch them as they twitter above me in circles.
That's right, Hermione, just do some magic. You understand magic. It makes sense. You read the spells, you flick your wand, and you make things happen. The same result everytime. Nothing else in life is that dependable…nothing.
Nothing…
I vaguely hear the sound of the door opening, and I see Harry walk tentatively into the room, looking rather unsure of himself—a bit frightened, even. I know what he wants to address, and I know he's not going to want to. So I jump ahead of him.
"Ron seems to be enjoying celebrations."
Harry looked as if his worst fears had been realized.
"Er…does he?"
Ah, Harry. He's such a great guy, always trying to soften blows for me. He's the true definition of a best friend to me. However, he is a male, and I know that it's some odd longstanding rule that males stick together when it comes to matters of the heart. So I know he's going to try and condone what Ron is doing by downplaying the entire situation. I jump ahead of him again.
"Don't pretend you didn't see him…he wasn't exactly trying to hide it, was--?"
I'm interrupted by the sound of the door opening again.
Oh, dear Merlin, what did I ever do to YOU? Why do you delight in torturing me so?
That laughter, that beautiful laughter that I've fallen in love with enters the room. And there he is. Pulling HER in. They've decided to find a more private place to ravage each other, I suppose. And here Harry and I sit, me with canaries flying around my head.
Great, Hermione. One look at you right now and the birds flying around you will surely make him see that he should be with you rather than Lavender. Honestly, the canaries add that wonderfully ironic touch, don't you think?
At least Ron has the decency to look shocked and slightly embarrassed as he mutters a small "Oh"
Lavender just giggles obnoxiously and pulls back out of the room as she says (squeaks, actually. I've never really noticed it before, but her voice is rather squeaky, sort of like an annoying bird that sits outside your window and chirps until you want to grab it by the neck and—AHEM--) "Oops!" And then she was gone.
His eyes won't meet mine. He knows he's done it this time. He's probably preparing himself for a lashing. He's expecting me to go off on him. To yell at him for his lewd display in front of the first years that we should be setting an example for.
Suddenly I'm tired. I am physically exhausted. I don't want to fight it anymore. I can't fight it, because I've already lost. He's not with me. Not with me. He's with her. And there's nothing I can do about it, and there's no book in any library that can tell me how to fix it.
There are no spells for mending broken hearts.
He tries to cover by pretending he was wondering where Harry was. I know better, but I just don't have the energy to row with him…not right now.
I climb off my desk, the God-awful canaries still twittering around me, and I finally gather the courage to look at him. Caught off guard, I see he's finally meeting my gaze.
I have to steel myself from those blue eyes. He's in that vulnerable state again, the one I love so much when we row. I can see inside him, to the depths of his soul. I see how confused he is. And yet, I'm still too tired to fight with him anymore.
"You shouldn't leave Lavender waiting outside. She'll wonder where you've gone."
I'm shocked at how even my voice sounds. I just want to get out. I just want to get away from those eyes, his stare, everything and anything that has to do with Ronald Weasley. I just can't deal with it right now.
As I walk out the door, something flares up inside of me. The icy feeling that was my heart suddenly felt as if it burst into flames. How dare HE be as hurt and confused as me? How does he think he has that right?
Thinking fails me yet again as I take one last look into the room at Harry's uncomfortable face and Ron's somewhat relieved face and scream out with all the raw emotion I have left in me.
"OPPUGNO!"
I should feel satistfaction as I see my trusty canaries attack Ron, but I don't. I just feel emptiness.
Suddenly, I can't suppress the tears any longer. As I leave the room and close the door behind me, I let them fall. I let my body rack with sobs. I don't care who sees me, I don't care if anyone figures out why I'm so upset. I just want to cry.
He's not mine and he never will be. He's hers.
And I'm alone.