"Damnit!"
Terry crashed his hands off of the hard stone lining the corridor. His anger filled him, making him almost uncontrollable. Damn that girl.
He sighed, and leaned against the wall, his mind running over what had just happened. He had thought it was going so well. Apparently not.
He had approached her, hoping to talk to her for just a few minutes. She was in the library, sitting at one of the corner tables. Slipping in, he watched her. She had a book propped open in front of her, and she was scratching an essay into a long piece of parchment. She leaned over it, stopping to read it again, checking for mistakes. Her long brown hair was barely touching the paper, and the candlelight elongated her shadow. It was evening, just after seven.
Terry gathered himself and his courage, and walked over. When he was just a few feet away, she looked up startled. He paused, holding his breath, aware that this was an overreaction. Then she smiled at him warmly, and his entire body felt a wave of heat, as if her smile alone could alter the atmosphere of the room, of him.
"Hey, Hermione. Mind if I sit here?" He asked. If she said refused him, he would apparate away, nevermind the enchantments on the castle.
She smiled again. "Not at all. How've you been?'
He felt his heart skip a beat. "Not bad. This potions essay is driving me bonkers, though."
"Oh, me too! It shouldn't be hard, but I can't find a resource for it." She sighed.
"I know. I asked some of the sixth years in my house but they didn't have any advice."
"When the Ravenclawsare stumped, you know it's bad." She laughed, and he imagined that a choir of angels couldn't make a better sound. "I think I'll give up on it tonight, I'll have a go at it tomorrow."
"Oh, you're leaving?" He said as he saw her stand up and begin to gather her things. "I'll go too, if the great Hermione Granger can't find something in the library, of all places, I don't think lowly Terry Boot will be able to either."
She flushed and shook her head. Then she grinned and said, "Terry, you're a Ravenclaw. I doubt you are 'lowly'." He didn't let her see how much her meaningless compliment meant to him.
"Let me walk you back. I heard Malfoy and his friends were looking for a Gryffindor to prank."
She scowled. "If he tried, I might let loose some of the hexes I was reading about." Then she smiled at him. "Thanks, though." And she bid him goodnight and walked away. He had looked after her, wishing that he could follow her, that he had some sort of a claim to her.
Now he looked up at one of the windows in the corridor, looking at the slight crescent moon, wishing with all his might on the stars that circled it.
The next morning he walked to class with his fellow Ravenclaw fifth years, and thinking about the essay he had due for Transfiguration. Then all thoughts scattered from his mind the moment he saw her. She was sitting at her table, decked in scarlet and gold for the Quidditch game this afternoon. She was laughing, her face absolutely beautiful. In that moment he was happy, for no other reason than she was happy, and insanely jealous, because she was laughing at something Harry Potter had said. He knew this moment didn't belong to him. And it stung. Deep in him, it stung.
Hermione looked up from her toast to see Ron glaring at someone. She almost turned, but then decided not to get involved. Instead she looked at Harry worriedly.
"Did you even sleep last night?" He had dark circles under his eyes, and his face was paler than usual, making his vivid lighting-shaped scar stand out. He just looked at her and shook his head.
"I'm fine. Really." He emphasized when she frowned at him. "Just more nightmares."
She frowned again and was about to start into him when Ron made an impatient noise under his breath. She glanced at him and then did a double take. "What?" She asked worriedly. His face was sculpted into a mask of anger.
"Nothing." But it wasn't nothing. He had seen Terry Boot staring at her, and for some reason, he had become unreasonably jealous. He tried to chalk it up to some flimsy excuse, trying not to see why exactly he was jealous.
Hermione opened her mouth to say something but was distracted by Parvati asking a question about their homework from the previous night.
He was finally alone in his dormitory room, and he let his tears flow. The look Weasley had given him this morning reminded him of things he wanted forgotten. It was obvious to Terry that Ron loved her, and that she loved him back. But he was stuck loving her, hating him, wanting it all to go away. Why couldn't his heart just let him realize that it was over before it could ever had been? Hermione Granger, the most perfect girl in the world, the only one in his, wasn't meant to belong to anyone but Weasley. She would never love him. The lowly Terry Boot.