A/N:Hello! It's me, once again! :))
As you know, (if you didn't read my "Stories I'm Sure I would Post Soon" on my Profile, good luck, chief.) this fanfic is still in progress (I'm just in the middle of Chapter 3) and this prologue is kind of short. :( But please forgive me, and I hope you enjoy :))
And now, on with the story.
It was over.
Those words floated across Hermione's mind like an uninvited fly, and she shook her head as she clutched her pillow close to her face so that it can staunch the steady flow of tears from her face. She was sitting on her bed inside her flat, and she used up all her energy not yet wasted on crying to look sideways at the clock.
11:40 P.M. September 18.
She bit her lip hard to stop from screaming. She was a riot internally, the pieces of her fragile heart sent to different parts of her chest and head, making it hard to breathe, and conjuring a major headache.
This can't be true; she chanted alongside the three annoying words buzzing around, it's not true. It's just a nightmare. Yes, that's it – just a nightmare. And I'm going to wake up to Ginny's voice any minute now.
She waited for Ginny's shrill scream to get her back to blissful reality, to the times he was rightfully hers and her rightfully his; to the times she was the only one privileged to be embraced by those strong arms; to the times those eyes focused on her, and her alone even in the midst of a sea of sirens.
But no matter what strategy she used, she just couldn't fool herself.
Hermione buried her head under her pillow, muffling her sobs as they went out unwanted. No one had hurt her the way he did. No one ever made her feel this way. No one made what was left of her heart squeeze until it bled. No, no one had done all that to her before, for he was the only one that she ever truly loved, ever truly cared about.
It wasn't her fault it was over, she thought, though she could not say it was him to blame, either. Their first major fight had been produced from nowhere, and, from their proper positions across from each other on the table with their dinner on their plates in his flat, in minutes they were yelling incoherently at each other, eyes wild. The heated exchange exhausted both of them, though there was an exhilarating feeling fuelled by anger accompanied with the fact that their words actually stung the other.
In the end, however, they regretted their rash decision and the imperfections they hurled. They wanted it to be okay again, to apologize, though their pride got in the way of reconciliation, and the only option left was for them to leave.
There was a sudden knock on the door, but she ignored it. Probably just the janitor, she thought as she rolled over the other side. The knocks began to get more urgent, and Hermione still didn't open the door. In the end, whoever it was knocking stopped.
Ginny Apparated inside the middle of Hermione's bedroom with a faint pop!
"Hermione, why aren't you – oh, dear Merlin, what's wrong?" Her tone went from hostile to worry in a matter of seconds as Ginny digested the fact that Hermione was actually crying.
"Why knock, Ginny?" Hermione asked, stalling her answer. She wiped her tears away to no avail; she tried to smile at her, but it felt more like a wobbly tightrope. "You can Apparate, can't you?"
"I'm being formal, Hermione. How'd you like it if you were in the middle of something and I accidentally landed on your back?"
Hermione giggled, though her amusement was short-lived – she started coughing and retching from her own tears, and Ginny instinctively rubbed her back.
"Now, what the hell's going on with this flood?" she asked, worry coating her voice.
Hermione purposefully targeted her eyes at the framed picture of Draco beside her bed for a fleeting moment.
"Oh. Oh." Ginny was not stupid – once her best friend had not answered the door, she immediately remembered she was on a date with Malfoy. She was about to go home to Harry when she heard the faintest sound of bed springs creaking. Knowing that Hermione wouldn't accept doing it very early in their relationship, she guessed something had gone wrong. She did not want to conclude, however – most times, what she guessed turned to be the truth.
"Could you tell me what happened?" she asked gently. Hermione sighed, sat up, and began to narrate her life for the past months.
You do know how it started, don't you?" Hermione whispered.
Ginny nodded. "I remember. It started with a lie."
For all the readers, PLEASE READ ALL THE AUTHOR'S NOTES. (A/N). IT'S ESSENTIAL SO YOU WON'T GET LOST, BECAUSE I AM GOING TO TELL THIS STORY IN A FLASHBACK. I WILL TELL AT THE FIRST AUTHOR'S NOTE IF IT IS IN THE PRESENT TIME OR STILL IN THE PAST.