The Mirror of Erised

Hermione Granger, Aged 16

Hermione pulled herself up to her full height, pushing her chest out indignantly, before slinking out of the room. What had she been thinking? She shouldn't let her emotions get to the better of her. She was a prefect, for heaven's sake. She should have known better!

As she closed the door behind her, she caught a glimpse of Lavender snogging Ron, her legs wrapped around his waist.

Hermione dashed around the corner and into the next abandoned classroom before she threw her supplies down and slid to the floor, crying.

She hardly even minded that her essay was now soaked with ink, she was so upset. She knew it was stupid and girlish for her to act this way, but she just couldn't help it around Ron, that little git.

She clenched her fists in frustration. She didn't even know how she had come to fancy Ron in the first place, but now that she was completely sure of her feelings, seeing him was like a constant headache. He could do so much better than that giggling prat of a girl.

See, most people that knew Hermione Granger would be jealous of her. Sure, her appearance could use some improvement, but the rest of her life seemed to be perfect. Of course, they didn't know the constant heartache that she'd been having for the past year.

There had been a few times when she'd gotten her hopes up that he'd liked her, like during the Yule Ball, for instance. She supposed that was when she finally realized she had feelings for him.

Of course, before the ball, she had wanted Ron to ask her, but was too scared to admit her feelings, even to herself. At the back her mind, though, she had subconsciously known that she'd always had a soft spot for him.

It's not like she was using Viktor Krum though, for she'd liked him too, just maybe more as a friend than as a lover, she thought with a twinge of guilt. Granted, Krum had charmed her with his quiet intelligence and moody demeanor. Who would have known that underneath that brooding, mysterious shell lay an intelligent young man?

Viktor wasn't a bragger in the very least, though. He seemed to hate attention, and the only reason Hermione knew of his intelligence was what she deduced from the lively conversations they had. He was quiet, with the air of someone dark and mysterious, and he always tried to make intellectual conversation with her (as opposed to annoying her to no end.) In short, he was the complete opposite of Ron Weasley.

So how had she come to fancy Ron, then? It was still a mystery to her, even after a year of wondering. All she knew was that that night, the night of the Yule Ball, she had bewitched Ron with her hidden beauty and felt unjustifiably giddy about doing so.

Of course, Ron had denied having interest in her, but Hermione knew, just like every girl knows. Or at least she thought she knew.

I mean, why else would he have acted like a jealous prat all night at the ball during fourth year? Though she would never openly admit it to him, she'd known that his eyes had been following her all night, watching her as she danced and giggled with Viktor. And then when she'd gone to talk to them, she had pretended not to notice his eyes raking her body shamelessly, though the jealous pout was still tacked to his face. It gave her a little thrill to know that he found her attractive.

Of course, there had been the shouting match after, where she'd dropped hints that she liked him, but being the obtuse idiot he was, he didn't seem to pick that up. Either that or he chose to ignore them.

Then, hadn't there been times they'd spent without Harry where he'd shown signs of liking her? She remembered in particular that one time at the beginning of fifth year on the Hogwarts Express where they had been patrolling the corridors on prefect duty. She had lightly touched his chest, and he had flinched back as if he'd been burnt. She had enjoyed watching the colour spread across his cheeks, and he had been unable to do more than mumble and stutter for a full five minutes.