Ideal Illusions

Her Agitated Emotions

Her feet stood rooted in that same spot. The dreaded spot that had a few cracks forming and whose spot in the carpet was invaded by ink spills.

She watched him walk away from her. Away from what he was about to say. Her heart desperately tried to seek for him. But she couldn’t move.

Reality held her in her own suspended moment.

She was so close to him once. And now the uncovering point of his conflicts was denied to her. All over again.

“I’m glad he is gone. He really is that arrogant attention seeking boy they make him out to be, isn’t he?”

Hermione turned to stare at Andrew, who in the meantime took Harry’s spot.

Her gut churned as she noticed more with each passing second that he was lounging in Harry’s space.

Her tiny hands clenched the quill that was still grasped in her hand.

“He isn’t,” she spit out, “I am afraid that were you in his situation you wouldn’t be pleased with the results.”

Andrew chortled and propped the chair back. Hermione almost wished that he fell on his back.

“Yes, I would be downright spiteful if I had his fame and riches.”

Hermione started to gather her things. “Well you don’t have to work hard at being hated.”

Andrew wagged his finger at Hermione. “Ah, Mione, hate is such a strong word. And it has a terrible connotation.”

Hermione shivered at his nickname for her.

“Am I sending shivers down your spine, love?” Andrew waggled his eyebrows in a suggestive way.

Hermione merely glared at him.

“Look, it is Hermione, not Mione.”

Andrew frowned at her.

“Aren’t you pleased that I am attempting to make this work?”

Hermione simply bottled her ink pot and started to organize her things. The few people that were in that library corner were too absorbed in their work to pay the couple any attention now that Harry left.

“Making what work? Our horrid relationship?”

Andrew walked over to her and grabbed her around the waist. She spun around to face him.

After a few seconds of staring into his eyes, Hermione broke their stare and sighed.

“We should end this. I mean we are better off not knowing each other. Your attempts aren’t working, and your other motives as well.” She whispered that to him.

“What other motives? You don’t think I got attracted by your beautiful charm?”

Hermione let out a bitter laugh.

“Andrew, what possibly would have drawn you to me is some sick illusion that I would spread my legs out wide for you.”

His eyes gleamed at this statement.

“Would you?” He proposed to her.

She shoved his hands off her waist in disgust.

“Go back to her. You would be better off chasing Jenna then to be stuck with me. In some ugly bickering relationship.”

Andrew shoved his hands into his robe pockets. “You don’t think that our arguments cause some sexual tension? Or at least some lustful attraction?”

Hermione couldn’t help but snort uncontrollably. Andrew backed off a bit at her unladylike behavior.

“Oh, that is rich. What would lust gain you anyway?”

Andrew smirked and said, “A whole lot of action.”


“ – And not to mention hurt. It is an insult to be with someone if you just feel some wavering emotion.”

“How would you know if it doesn’t waver then?” He asked her.

Hermione clutched her book and starred at the leather cover for some time. “It is indescribable,” she simply said.

Andrew quirked an eyebrow and waved his hand to urge her to go on.

“You must have some clue.”

She shook her head softly. Her mouth was open ready to insert a loving poem that described how, where and what you were suppose to feel. But as she looked at Andrew’s curious gaze she found that it didn’t matter.

No, her heart hammered in her throat as she stared at the same spot that Harry had been in. An odd feeling crept up her spine as she spotted a few ink marks left by Harry. The stains pointed towards the exit as the glistened on the tabletop.

With no hesitation at all, she walked past the bemused boy.

______*______

Her lungs demanded for oxygen as she rushed past the corridors. Her feet pattering over the cracks the floor presented.

She would stop every once in a while and squint around. But she couldn’t find him. He was nowhere to be found.

Her book bag had gotten considerably lighter, she noticed. As she checked the inside contents she discovered that some books were missing from her bag.

After a few more minutes of her continuous search, she slumped down on the floor in defeat and tried to sort out her agitated emotions.

She gazed at the mildew in a small crack on the wall opposite from her. But she didn’t seem to really notice the grotesque feature. Instead her eyes unfocused as she thought about her brief conversation with Andrew.

What were these confusing emotions? What did they stand for? Why did she not have an answer to her dilemmas anymore? Why had her heart betrayed her so gravely by leaving her in the dark?

Her thoughts then wandered to him.

She couldn’t understand why every time she thought of him some strange emotion claimed her. Practically made her choke on the unknown feeling.

“Hermione! There you are!”

The shout made her break her train of thought. She looked questionably at Ron. Who was running toward her in a frantic speed.

She immediately got up and grabbed what remained of her book bag.

Ron panted a bit and threw her book bag to the side. She watched as more parchments spilled out.

Hermione tapped her foot and crossed her arms, awaiting an explanation.

As he reached her though he only said one thing and somehow that explained everything for her.

“Harry...”