If I owned Harry Potter, why would I be writing a fan fiction?
Her Emotional Range
Confusion was the first thing she felt. She felt puzzled as she saw the eager blonde wrestling with him with her tongue. It felt so… strange… so out of context, for a moment, she didn't even realise what they were doing.
Then her mind finally understood, and her confusion turned to shock – he was kissing Lavender… Lavender was kissing him… they were kissing each other, getting lost in the other… they were so possessive you couldn't tell who was who as their arms wrapped around each other like octopus tentacles. Her brown eyes widened and her heart stopped beating for a moment. She felt everything freeze.
Anger coursed through her. Its violent waves possessed her; she felt everything inside her begin to move, but at a rapid pace. Her insides felt like they were crackling with electricity… how dare he do this to her?
Then Hermione saw his hands settle at Lavender's waist, and Lavender's delicate hands, with pink nail polish on the ends of them, cupped his face. She glared at the girl, the anger inside her turning into jealousy. It was a deep, powerful envy. At that moment, Hermione felt as if she would do anything to be the girl in his arms… she was almost scared at how far she would have gone at that moment. It was fortunate she couldn't move from the spot she stood in – the consequences would have been disastrous.
It was meant to be her! Hermione was so close to getting what she'd wanted for such a long time – and her roommate had to intervene and scoop him up. How did she do it so quickly? Hermione had been working on getting him for years, and Lavender, after three months, had gotten him before she did. Why?
Hermione knew the answer as soon as she asked herself, and the anger and jealousy dissolved as a deep, almost unbearable pain rushed through her. She felt her lip quiver as she realised why she had been so unsuccessful all this time.
Ron had never wanted her in the first place.
She had spent all that time dropping hints, putting herself in a position of vulnerability, simply because she had a suspicion that he may just feel the same way about her as she did him.
Where had she gone so horribly wrong? How could she not have seen that he never had any feelings towards her? She must have been blinded by love. She must have analyzed too much. There never was anything behind those deep, intense looks, or those reassuring moments when he cared for her… she just hoped there was, and made herself believe there was…
She felt an emptiness inside her… a tragic loss… she had lost him. She felt herself heat up, and knew tears were on the way.
Why would he have wanted her? Obviously he'd choose Lavender. Hermione was his plain, boring, bossy arguing companion, and Lavender was pretty, fun and unassuming. She couldn't compete with that.
Watching them was unbearable. The pain was consuming her, it was an emotional torture. Hermione welcomed the wet substance forming in her eyes – it clouded her vision, and he and Lavender were out of sight now. Hermione knew she couldn't stay there any longer – her sanity was on the line.
Hermione turned on the spot and ran out of the common room, trying to escape the torture absorbing her. As she did, a final emotion was felt by her. Hatred.
She hated the fact she still loved Ron.
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