Hermione sighed deeply as she walked, head bent in defense against the snowflakes bearing heavily down upon her. She watched the cracked concrete pass beneath her feet as she stepped steadily, moving at a quick and even pace. Anything to take me away from there.
She watched a drop of water fall from her cheek to the ground, mixing quickly in with the rapidly muddying slush, and she started in surprise. She roughly wiped the offending tears from her cheeks. She snorted in anger and frustration. Hermione Granger was in control. After all these years, garnering maturity and control, it was not for her to run about emoting wildly at the slightest sting. Yes, we dated nine months. But it's been months since we've been together in that sense. Get a grip, Hermione. You're stronger than that. Besides, people are watching.
She took a look back at the pub. Where he was. With her. It had been out of nowhere. She had happily continued a friendship with a man she had dated, one who she'd met while attending a Wizarding University, despite the fact that they'd broken it off months ago. It was an amicable break, one made in the throes of the stress of examinations, and one that was made with the intentions of striking it back up once things calmed down. Somehow, that day never came, yet the two continued relying on each other for support, and spent time together all the same. Yet here he came with this. It was just another of their regular meetings at the pub not far from campus. And in he walked, but he wasn't alone. Hermione remembered smiling cordially at her, a girl whom she had been close to her first year at Univeristy, and had since kept a rather distant relationship, but wondering why he had brought her to their meeting. Meeting. Right. That's just the word we've used these past months for `date.' She had glanced questioningly at him, while giving her a quick friendly hug. He smiled. Oh, his smiles.
"Hermione, I know that you already know Rachel, but I wanted to introduce her to you again in a different capacity." He glanced at Rachel, and then back to Hermione, offering her another tentative smile, while reaching for Rachel's hand. "Rachel and I have starting dating, so I thought it would be right to bring her tonight, so you could start to get to know each other again."
Hermione's heart had plummeted. This couldn't be happening. Was he crazy? The two of them were already as good as dating. Did he not see that? She forced a smile on her face, and began to concentrate on her breathing, as she knew it would quickly become erratic. She saw his face drop slightly, as he noticed her eyes fill with shock and betrayal.
"That's… really great, you two! Wow! I mean, I don't even know what to say! I didn't realize you two were so close! But, that's quite wonderful, of course! I'm very happy for you, very happy! Rachel, you must tell me how you've been! And you look so good in that color, I just love that shirt on you!" Hermione had let out in one large breath, leading them over to the table. Idle chatter followed, and when she wasn't spitting out some ridiculously cheery exclamation, she was turning over the situation in her head, panicking as she felt her world dropping beneath her feet. She felt his eyes on her; he knew something was wrong, but she avoided his eyes. To thick to realise what he's done. He's gone and buggered everything up. As soon as she could without completely offending Rachel, Hermione took her leave, saying that she had an exam to finish studying for, thus making her escape into the icy street.
And here she was, making her way rapidly back to her flat, feeling stupid, silly, used, lonely, and weak. She shouldn't have expected him to be feeling the same way as she. She shouldn't have assumed. Like that stupid saying he loves so much… "Like me' dad always said, assuming only makes an arse out'a you an' me!"
And now she had no one. She could once count on going to Ron and Harry for everything, but the Hogwarts days were long gone, and the three had moved on with their lives, and inadvertently, away from each other. There was no big fanfare, no big falling out, it just happened. The three saw different things for themselves in their lives, and they simply grew apart. Yes, they shared the occasional owl, but it was usually to communicate good news. But personal communication was close to none. The last time she'd seen them was Ron's wedding to Luna Lovegood, a surprising but nonetheless delightful match. Every so often she would get an owl from them in some exotic location, describing their harrowing "encounters" with crinkle-humped snogags, or whatever they were. And Harry. Harry lived a nondescript life. She wasn't entirely sure what he did with his time, but his was simply a constant quest towards normalcy. He was the hardest to move away from, something she still locked up and her mind and refused to dwell upon, but somehow University took her mind away from the loss, as did meeting him.
He was Michael, and he quickly captured her attention. They started as great friends. He became her replacement Harry in many ways, though she did not realise it, or perhaps refused to. They stayed up nights and talked, and shared their innermost thoughts and fears. Somewhere along the way, the friendship led into dating. It was a whirlwind, and she would never regret the times they spent together. But she would never admit to herself, and still wouldn't, that she had always known, somehow, that he couldn't be "the one," though she contented herself with their relationship anyway. She loved him, but she wasn't in love. But why dismiss a good thing when you have it? She undoubtedly depended on him to get through each day, with his constant laughter, and reliably constant interest, advice, and support in her day-to-day life.
Hermione pulled away from her thoughts as she turned the corner. I suppose I had better begin getting over him then. You knew, Hermione, you silly girl, you knew he would never be the one. You've always know there's someone else waiting for you. Pull it together. But it didn't change the hurt and the fear. She knew things would change. No girl would be content with their boyfriend carrying on a relationship such as the friendship she and Michael shared. It would be over. She would have no one to go to. Hermione felt just as lost as the day she moved into her new flat at the university. She felt it once more-that things were going to change, and once more be out of her control. She supposed for a while he would try to make it work, them still being close. She knew him too well. He was naïve and would assume that somehow both Hermione and Rachel would fit into this happy world of his. Hermione knew better. And she shuddered to think of what this meant for her.
She scraped her feet on the mat just inside the door as she made her way into the entry way of her apartment building. She climbed the stairs, feeling weary and exhausted, as if her whirling thoughts had tired her body out. She didn't know what she was going to go. She would survive, she knew, and she would get over it, she knew that too. Yet the pain of this loss still pounded into her heart, and she wondered if she'd ever be happy. Yes, she'd always had this feeling that there was somebody perfect for her, but she didn't know who. But what if Michael was as perfect as she was going to find? Why was she still holding out for this seemingly unreachable ideal? She wasn't even sure where it came from, she just lived on the hope that it would come along one day. But what was she to do until then? She took her coat off as she closed the door behind her, and hung it in its proper place, on the rack beside the door. She looked around her cozy but neat flat. She smiled sadly at the picture of her leaning on Michael's shoulder and laughing as they looked out on the scenic fall foliage around them. Hermione's logical mind knew that she would be better one day, but the tears came anyway. She brushed them away once more, and headed towards the kitchen to make herself a cup of tea. No use dwelling on it, you silly thing. As she was cleaning up after herself and preparing for bed, she heard her mobile ring. She glanced at it, and sighed. That would be Michael, looking to check up on her. She walked over and switched it off. Enough now. The sooner she let him go, the sooner it would stop hurting. She was Hermione Granger. She was strong.
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