Chapter Text
~•~
Hermione inspects herself in the mirror as she puts the finishing touches on her hair. She applies a light, natural glamour to her face and spritzes on the new fragrance she purchased at Hogsmeade last weekend. She gives herself one last reassuring glance in the mirror before turning on her heel and snatching up her bag. She dashes down the stairs and hurries through the Gryffindor common room, sights set on the courtyard.
As Hermione approaches the arches that lead into the courtyard, she catches sight of Ron across the way. His hair gleaming something akin to crimson gold in the morning sun. She takes a moment to appreciate his form, his shoulders having broadened over the past year. Her heart stumbles over its own beats as she crosses over to him.
“Morning, babe!” She says as she saunters over to his side, trying to keep a casual air about her.
“Oh. Hey.” Ron replies, unenthused by her arrival. He’s preoccupied by something on his phone screen but finally spares her a fleeting glance. It seems as though her appearance takes a moment to register to him. After a few seconds, he lifts his face once again and furrows his brows at her.
Hermione holds her breath in his pause, waiting for the smile she’s certain will grace his face as he takes in her efforts. Her heart slowly sinks as a scowl twists his features instead.
Ron bites out, “Good grief, ‘Mione, what’s wrong with your hair? Wake up late this morning?” He sniffs the air around him and practically gags. “Bloody hell is that awful stench?!” He wafts his hands about, as if her scent is drowning him.
“It’s something new I bought at Hogsmeade. I thought you’d like it.” She tries not to cower, not let him see her vulnerability.
“Your sickles would’ve been far better spent on a hat,” he scoffs, an incredulous look on his face.
The sting of his remarks leaves Hermione speechless, a problem she doesn’t usually have. She can quip with the wittiest of opponents, but it’s different when the person she cares about most spews his words like acid, with nothing but disgust towards her.
The truth is, she feels like she’s been losing Ron as of late. He’s distant, barely texts back, and the only time she sees him smile when they’re together is when he’s looking at his phone. She won’t admit it to herself, but she’s sure she has caught sight of him staring at the other Gryffindor girls, discreetly flexing his arms in their direction during quidditch practice.
This was Hermione’s last ditch effort at attempting to salvage what little is left of her relationship with him. She has yearned to be with Ron since the very day she met him, but she feels as though she’s clawing at silk. Nothing to grab hold of. The fabric effortlessly floating away with each desperate swipe. It remains cool, smooth, valuable…while she descends.
“Well,” Ron’s voice suddenly snaps her out of her trance. “If you’re quite done standing there looking like you’ve been petrified, I think we should make our way to Snape’s class. I don’t want you making me late.” He grabs his belongings and starts his way towards the Potions classroom. Hermione shakes her head, trying to vanish her thoughts. She can fix this. She can find the solution, just like she always does. She always has the answers.
Hermione pastes a smile on her face as she scurries to catch up with Ron, matching his pace as she reaches his side. She keeps her steps light and feminine as she inches closer to him, hoping he’ll take her hand in his. Like he used to do when they first started dating.
Ron gives her a side glance before speaking. “Maybe keep a few strides behind me. As this year’s all-star Keeper, I kind of have a reputation to uphold. Not that you’d know anything about that.”
Hermione’s feet falter at his words and she falls behind, granting him precisely what he wants.
She wonders when her ferocity abandoned her. When she stopped being a lioness and turned timid house cat.
She focuses on her path to Potions, suddenly praying to Godric that this upcoming project will be enough to distract her from her shattered heart.