Hermione had no idea how long she had been lying there. The grass beneath her skin was rough and the least bit comfortable, but it was as if she was paralyzed.
Who was she if not someone's daughter?
Harry Potter's best friend was all she could come up with.
Hermione had always been number one. She was the top of her class. She was the whole world to her parents. But there was nothing to be the center of anymore. Her parents were gone and she was no longer top of her class, seeing as there weren't any classes to be the top of anymore.
Being Harry Potter's best friend was a title alright, but it wasn't who she wanted to be. Hermione wanted to be more than the sidekick to the savior, overshadowed by all his glory. Of course it sounded narcissistic. How could it not? She was nothing.
I used to be something, she remembered. Something to someone.
She was still something to someone. She still had Ron, and Ginny, and Harry. She knew that. But she couldn't have felt more alone. With her parents memory of her gone, what was she anymore? Who was she anymore?
She knew where she belonged.
She knew where she stood in the world.
She knew what she was.
But all of that was utterly, insurmountably pointless once your sense of identity was stripped away.
Everything was dark. It was always dark nowadays. Hermione had never felt so heavy. She was sure there would be grass imprints on her right cheek, but it was like all of the energy was drained out of her because suddenly she didn't care. She was too tired to move.
She knew she should get up and walk to the common room. She was sure there were people waiting on her. But everything felt frivolous.
People were waiting on her return? Ha! Screw them.
Screw everything.
Hermione felt her eyes sting. She didn't want to cry anymore. She had watered the grass enough with her tears already, and she wasn't sure there was anything left to shed anyhow. Crying was pointless, as was everything else in the world.
Why had I worked so hard to be top of my class anyway? It doesn't mean anything. There are no classes anymore. There are no parents to be proud of me.
Why had I even bothered trying to make a difference? I'll have no family to come back to if I even make it out of this god-awful war alive.
Why did I even put up a fight? There's nothing to fight for anymore.
She didn't hear her name being called until someone's hand was on her shoulder, shaking her out of her reverie.
"'Mione?"
It was Ron's voice. He sounded so concerned. Usually Hermione would have cared; would have said she was alright to reassure him. But not this time. He could take his sympathy and shove it. She didn't have time for this.
"I'm busy," she muttered, the long pieces of grass tickling her lips as she spoke.
"With what?" he asked gently.
"Questioning the meaning of life," she replied in a monotone.
"Chocolate," Ron replied. Hermione's eyebrows pulled together at his absurd comment, not realizing he was joking around. "The meaning of life is chocolate."
"You're a fool if you believe that," she said, staring off into the distance. The moon was sitting just above the treetops, making the forest one large silhouette. "Life has no meaning. It's all pointless."
YOU ARE READING
Velleity | Dramione
Romance*ONGOING* Hermione never imagined her life would be going down the path it is. Her life is slowly falling apart beneath her fingertips, and she couldn't feel more helpless. But there's no place for helplessness in a war. Voldemort still reigns ove...
