Restricted

2

Again. Mudblood.

And when Hermione cut into her wrists later that night, she realised her blood wasn't muddy at all. Just the same as it had always been.

~

"Ginny I—

"Please Hermione! It's one of the last games of the season!"

Ginny pulled her fingers and looked at Hermione with pleading eyes, desperate for one of her best friends to watch the quidditch game later.
Hermione smiled and eventually nodded— the time was 4 o clock, so she had long enough to complete Snape's homework and then head down to the pitch, gleefully applaud and smile as if nothing else was wrong in the world.
As if she wanted to be there.

"Yessss! You won't regret it. Apparently Cho hasn't showed at practice this week, there's no chance we won't win!"

Hermione smiled and looked down shyly at her black school shoes. It seemed strange for these games to be continuing with a war looming. Although she was perhaps the only one that thought that.
"You'll win anyway," then she met Ginny's beaming green eyes, "You always do."

"Thanks 'mione!" Ginny grinned with a wink, clutching her quidditch broom at her side, eagerly awaiting to head to practice.
Ginny span on her heel, "I'll see you later then! And hey— Ron will be playing too!"

Hermione blushed and awkwardly waved her goodbye, tracing her friends steps down the empty corridor.
Ever since Ron had announced his feelings for her, Ginny had continued to tease the pair constantly.
Although nothing had happened with Ron, partly due to Hermione making it too difficult, now it was aware the friendship could never quite be seen in the same light.

Once Ginny was out of sight, she headed to the common room which was usually quiet this time of day, to get on with some work before the game she longed she didn't have to attend.
A waste of fucking time.

When the clicking grandfather clock in the common room hit quarter to five, she headed down to the quidditch pitch.
Last game of the season— thank fuck.

Luckily for her, the game passed fairly quickly. Ginny played well, and Ron caught her eye every other second to which she turned away awkwardly in return.
Harry didn't catch the snitch, for once, but he was fairly close a few times. Enough to make the crowd around her gasp in excitement.
As soon as it was announced Gryffindor had stole the last win of the season, Hermione leaped up and ran through the applauding crowd to avoid her friends inevitable pleading invitations to the end of season party.

The parties happened every year and she'd managed to avoid the last three, so she reckoned she could avoid this one as well. Not one of her friends had even asked her to go yet, she wondered if they were too scared or they'd just simply given up trying.
Every house attended— they were the most talked about events of the year.
Hermione would much rather drink alone and wallow in her own self pity instead of pretending like everyone else.

She sneaked into her dorm, although it was empty with most Gryffindors still celebrating down on the grounds. She grabbed her bag she'd left behind and slipped in a bottle of fire whiskey that was hidden behind her headboard.

If all her mates were going to be getting blackout drunk, then she would too. By herself, in the library.

That way she wouldn't have to act all happy and smiley and as if all was well.
Because it wasn't, and her wrists were still stinging from last nights endeavours.