She had never expected to love him. But she did. She loved him, and when she loved, she loved hard. It was one of her faults.
She lets out a sigh as she watched her children being taken away on the train. She would miss them, but she wanted them to go. She wanted them to be introduced to Hogwarts and have the experiences that she missed so dearly. As the train pulled out of sight, she turned her head to see Harry whispering something to Ginny. Her heart almost stops. He used to whisper to her. He used to tell her his secrets and his fears, and she would comfort him and do her best to make him happy. He never whispered to her anymore. Apparently, she was no longer needed for things like that. That was Ginny's job now.
She continues to watch them, and time seems to slow down. He lightly traces the scar on his forehead, and then smiles. She bites her lip. She wished that she knew what he was thinking. She wanted to smile with him, to be happy with him like they used to talk about. But it seems that he has forgotten their old talks. And who could blame him? She was nothing special, just a bookworm with bushy hair. Why would he remember their childish little musings when he could be an adult with Ginny? The vivacious, outspoken redhead with a perfect smile. Yes, even to her, their old talks paled in comparison to the possibilities that lay with Ginny.
She feels a light tug on her hand. As she turns, she sees Ron's smiling face. Oh, Ron. He's so hopelessly clueless. She does admitt, she loves him, but only in the way that she's always loved him. She's tried so hard to love him in the way that he wants her to, in the way that she loves Harry, but she can't. She wonders why she ever decided to be with him. Perhaps she felt that love would come with time, or that one day she would wake up, and things would be different. Either way, it was a mistake. But it's too late now. They have children, and she swore to herself that she wouldn't tear the children's lives apart for selfish reasons.
Ron pulls her along like a rag doll. They walk over to Harry and Ginny, who have just shared a kiss. She feels sick. Ron laughs and says something to Harry about kissing his little sister. Ginny rolls her eyes, and they all begin a familiar conversation. She isn't listening. She stares at the ground like a small child, drifting in and out of time. She tries to focus on her memories of him and her.
Maybe she was just selfish. She had survived the war, when so many others had perished. She had spent plenty of time with Harry to be his friend, to be his mentor. They had their walks by the lake and trips to Hogsmeade, along with summer visits at the Burrow, late night talks, and not to mention all the adventures. Yet, she wanted more. And maybe that was wrong of her. But she didn't want a lot.
He didn't have to fall in love with her and sweep her off her feet like a romantic novel. He didn't have to love her at all, if he didn't want to. But she wished that he would still be her friend. The friend that he used to be, and if it developed into something more, than wonderful, but if it didn't, then that would be okay, too. All she really wanted was him, in any form. But the way that things were right now, and the way the future looked, she wouldn't have any of that. Then, her feelings change.
She makes herself angry. Who was she to decide that he had to love her? Who was she to want him to drop his happy life just so she could be content? Nobody. She was nobody, and she didn't deserve him even if he did want her. She feels the familiar prickle of tears. She fights with everything to hold them in. She won't cry, not in front of him. Suddenly, there is another tug on her hand. Only this one feels different. There is a spark to it. She doesn't have to look up to know who it is.
"Are you coming, Hermione?"
She faces him, desperate. As usual, he does not see her. Not the real her. Not like he used to.
"We're all headed to the pub. You're coming, yeah?"
She searches his eyes for something, anything to show her that he still knows her on some level. She finds nothing. She inwardly sighs, but plasters on a fake smile and nods her head. He smiles, turns around and goes to catch up to Ron and Ginny. He does not let go over her hand, and instead brings her along with him. In that short span of time, she pretends that it's like it used to be. They're close again, they're united once more. Things are different, and they're in love. Harry and Hermione. Hermione and Harry. They're not headed to a pub, but to the rest of their lives where everything is as it should be, and everyone is happy. But that moment is gone, and their life together is over. They've run out of time.
She had never expected to love him. But she did. She loved him, and when she loved, she loved hard.
It was one of her faults.