All Things Related
Disclaimer: You know I don't own anything, but if I did, I certainly wouldn't be calling my fellow H/Hr shippers delusional.
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While growing up in a suburban part of England, consisting entirely of Muggles, I had always been given almost whatever my little heart desired.
Whether it was a trip to a foreign country loaded with history, books heavier than me, or that pen in the shop window that had the metallic ink; my parents, both being dentists, made a more-then-comfortable living and were happy to provide me with the things that would put a smile on my face.
I was not spoiled however, not because my parents put limits on the things I could have, but because I never asked for much. By the age of five I knew that my parents could only provide me with material things and the love for a child… not the one thing that had always been missing from my life- the void they could only hope one day would be filled.
Friendship.
The comfort that knowing someone who is not quite family will always be there for you, through thick and thin. One thing that truly can not be bought.
I was different, and therefore feared in a way, rejected by my peers. When ridiculed, I would drown my sorrows and tears in books and logic, smudging the pages, crinkling the corners, and yet they remained to soothe me.
I realize now, unknowingly, I tried desperately to fill the gaping void with logic and facts, thinking that I did not need friends or compassion. I thought it simply wasn't logical to be hurt by the cruel words of other people.
But in the back of my mind I still had that desire and that need, even when I began my journey to Hogwarts. That first ride on the Hogwarts Express was the most hopeful, optimistic day of my life. When I walked into that carriage and saw two boys- one with dirt on his nose, and the other with the most nonjudgmental, caring eyes I had ever seen- I thought that maybe, just maybe the empty space in my heart was about to be filled.
I was disappointed however, and shortly after that optimistic day, I experienced one of the most painful days of my life. Sitting in that bathroom stall, crying my eyes out, I wondered how life could be so harsh, just like the people who had ridiculed me for being who I was. How could life make me so happy one moment, but then miserable the next?
It was not logical.
But neither was trying to save a lonely girl from a mountain troll.
From that point on, after lying to Professor McGonagall, I slowly started to realize that books and cleverness could never begin to replace or overshadow friendship and bravery and… and all things related.
And it is with this knowledge that I made the decision to follow Harry in his journey to win back the chance at a happy life that was stolen from him years ago. To find and destroy the Horcruxes. To defeat Voldemort.
As if I would choose anything else.
Ron also feels the same. Ron, who does not know how much I appreciate his friendship. However much we fight and bicker, however often we aren't on speaking terms, despite our usually opposite personalities, he was one of my first and only friends, and I will love him forever because of it. I will love him like a brother, just as he loves Harry… even if he won't admit it openly. He will stand by Harry regardless of the danger, regardless of the fact that we have only a glimmer of a chance to survive. Ron also puts his faith in the glimmer friendship, loyalty, and bravery provide.
As time has passed, my heart has developed along with our friendship, and over time I've learned to put my faith in something that builds from an unrelenting friendship… something so different, but something so similar; Love.
After the void in my heart was filled with the friendship I had always longed for, another desire started to take shape. A desire, again, my family could not fill. A desire that gradually turned to need, taking the shape of a slim boy with untamable black hair, piercing green eyes, and a saving-people complex.
Divination is such an obscure branch of magic, so obscure, so not… practical, that I up and quit even trying to tolerate it in my third year at Hogwarts. Of course, it had to come back and slap me in the face.
It was through a prophecy, the most important prophecy of my time, that I realized how much I genuinely cared… loved Harry.
I do not love Harry like I love Ron. My love for Harry is so much deeper. It stems from somewhere inside me, flows through my veins, causes me to do things without thinking. I love him with everything I am… I would do anything- anything- if only to see him happy or safe.
I've heard the saying `you don't appreciate something until you've lost it' so many times, and at that point, upon hearing the full contents of the prophecy that bound Harry and Voldemort, I felt it was proven. Even though Harry was not gone, I felt like I had been hit by Dolohov's curse all over again.
And even though I was not one to believe in anything Divination-related, there was the prophecy, plain as day, making more sense than Luna Lovegood reading the Quibbler.
The idea of only Harry possessing the power to defeat Voldemort had always been a common idea to me, but knowing it for sure frightened me beyond words. I began to think what life without Harry- considerate, compassionate, mood-swinging, loyal, brave Harry- might be like.
I panicked.
I panicked to the point where I became completely irrational, self-absorbed, totally caught up in trying to get Ron to notice me, and forgetting about Harry, not listening to Harry.
All the while I cried softly into my pillow at night hoping that Harry was still there the next morning. I tried so hard to distance myself from him, and in a way, it worked. Our friendship is not quite the same as it used to be, but now we are working to rebuild.
But, I realize now, even though I convinced myself that I could not allow myself to love Harry any further, that maybe if I turned back it would go away, many things I did had the ulterior motive `help Harry!'
I was so stupid, so unlike myself, so the person I hoped I never would become.
Then Dumbledore died.
And with his death, my ridiculous plan died as well. That horrible day, as I cried on Ron's shoulder, which was warm, but hardly what I would call comforting as he had stiffened at the immediate contact and the sight of my tears, my idea that I could ignore what I felt for Harry, the thought that I would be better off without him, the crazy notion (which many people had) that maybe Ron and I were meant for each other… all crushed.
That day as I cried, my tears were for the loss of Dumbledore, yes, but also for the loss of myself.
It was difficult for me to remember the person I had always been before that year, the real me, the real Hermione Granger.
What I did remember however, not that I had ever forgotten, was my love for Harry, and that day I promised myself I would never forget. I promised I would never forget the lesson he had unknowingly taught me years ago, that the most important things in life were friendship and bravery and love.
We have the strongest friendship, Harry, Ron and I, and I know that together we can… will defeat the evil that has been a part of our lives for too long. We have the bravery to stand together through anything, to sacrifice ourselves for another.
I love Ron like a brother, and I love Harry like… well, I love Harry in the way that no comparison seems accurate enough.
Our long journey is just beginning, but I can already see an end.
The end of our journey will be, simply, the beginning.
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A/N: I have to say thank you to all the authors who haven't given up on writing after HBP! Honestly, you guys are awesome. I still have so much hope for Harry and Hermione, and I know so many of us feel the same. I had a hard time trying to write something ever since I finished reading book 6, and this little number came out of nowhere. Anyway, I hoped you enjoyed it… comments, any at all, are always appreciated. Thanks.
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