Falling in Love💕

Chapter 1

"Ugh. I cannot believe him!"
Hermione slammed her books on the table just as Ginny went to pour her pumpkin juice.
"Hermione!"
"Sorry Gin, but honestly! What does he think will happen when he gets me the same book 3 times? Twice in a row this time!"
Ahh. So that's why he sounded so defensive in his letter.
"He got you Quidditch 101: The Finer Points again!"
"Yes! Why won't he understand I just don't like that bloody sport? She angrily scooped some mixed vegetables onto her plate. "It's not like I ask him to read about the history of magical law! I mean, have I ever actually asked him to read anything? No! Because I get that reading isn't something that comes all that naturally to him. Arsehole." She huffed and took a large bite, and chewed a bit harder than strictly necessary.

"And a day late! Can he not even be bothered to manage to post it on time for my birthday, you know, the one he's known for 8 years? That rat bastard."

Ginny worked at hiding her giggle, something Hermione would definitely not appreciate right now and went back to try and pour her juice hopefully without consequence this time. She tilted her head and thought.
"You know..." she said slowly, "I think that may be a sign. If Harry ever did that to me I would hope you would tell me to drop him. Forgetting the being late thing, which is definitely just laziness."
Hermione looked up, startled. Then cocked a brow, "are you sure? Because I rather like my head attached to my body, thanks."
"Ha. Ha. Ha. Yes! If, Merlin forbid, Harry ever showed he didn't care enough to appreciate me for me - ignoring the part about getting me the same exact gift 3 times - I would have no choice but to kick him to the curb. They have to love us. Not our bodies with their personalities!"
Hermione snorted and brushed pretend crumbs from her hands.
"Is that why you and Harry work so well? 'Cause you're the same person?"

Ginny stared.
"What!"
Now Hermione was surprised.
"You mean you don't know?"
She gave a small laugh on the edge of derisive.
"Oh wow. Er, I didn't realize I would be the one to tell you... but you and Harry are practically identical."
"How do you mean?!" The juice came dangerously close to sloshing out of her cup.
"Well to start with, you are both sporty jocks, popular, smart but apply little effort, same dry humor, both fiercely protective of loved ones, you like the same food and are talented at the same subjects... I could go on if you like?"
Ginny felt a bit dazed. "Er, no, that's alright."
Hermione started shoving books back into her bag, giving the one from Ron a dirty look as she continued, "So you see, by your logic you and Harry should either work marvelously or he only likes you because it's like looking into a pretty mirror." And with that she hurried out the hall.
For a moment Ginny couldn't breathe. Was Hermione right? Did Harry and her only get along because they so strongly resembled the other? Putting her head in her hands she lightly rubbed her temples. Great. She thought, just great.
~
I ought to burn this stupid book. Ugh. Ronald! Why do you have to be such a dunce? Hermione was especially hurt because she knew just how sweet he could be. He had been there for her at a time when she wasn't sure what to do. When just getting up was too hard, the two of them could lean on each other. He was even proud to congratulate her on her many accomplishments (after some grumbling about know-it-all's) and he really was quite clever in his own way. And yes, they fought -often- but never to hurt! They were just passionate people, right? Besides, they almost always made up within the same day!

Then a thought that hovered in the back of her mind slipped in. You could have better. You've had better. Sure, Ron plays an incredible game of chess but can he really be a match for you? She pushed it out viciously with a shake of her head. No. That was not a healthy thought. Not a fair assessment of their relationship at all. She had to stop comparing. But it lingered nonetheless. Perhaps she had been a bit harsh with Ginny, it wasn't like she sometimes didn't wish for the same thing.

Hermione leaned against the wall and tilted her head back to rest. She held her breath until the corners of her vision spotted before letting it out slowly. She slumped forward and sat, head cradled in her hands. Breathe, Hermione, breathe. A freckled nose moved across her thoughts. One achingly familiar, and so, so, devastating. Don't think about him now, don't cry. Don't cry.
Expensive shoes clipped down the hall -interrupting the downwards spiral- before coming to a stop in front of her. Hermione's head rose.
Polished black suede,
pressed grey trousers,
shiny black belt,
tucked white shirt,
straight green tie,
smirking blonde head,
vaguely concerned grey eyes.
Shite.
Malfoy.

"Well well, if it isn't the disgrace of the wizarding world." The concern disappeared.
His head bobbed, "Granger."
She glared at him until to her utmost surprise he slid down to sit beside her. His head knocked back against that wall so hard it must hurt. The sigh he let out was, well, pitiful. She sat forward, continuing her glare until blond lashes fluttered open and he returned her side eye.
"What, may I ask, in your life has you like this -he gestured to her whole body- Granger?" What a snide prick.
She climbed to her knees and took hold of her bag. "You may not ask, Malfoy, because it's none of your bloody business." Hermione virtually spit the words at him before tossing her hair and stomping off. Just before she turned the corner, his singsong voice stopped her, "boy troubles, then."

Nearly trembling with rage she spun only to see the blond prat right there. He moved like a ghost, actually, quieter than a lot of ghosts she knew (The Bloody Baron came to mind). She quickly moved her gaze from his chest to his face where she was greeted with a smirk and a wink. "I'm well equipped to handle boy troubles, but Granger, I must say I'm shocked! Is there trouble in ginger paradise?" The most shite eating grin was splitting his face.
Until a horrible sob fell out of her mouth (without her permission, mind you) and it dropped like it was hit by a bludger. Looking panicked, he took a step back and reached into his pocket, pulling out the most expensive hanky she had ever seen. He pressed it into her hands. Hermione was just thinking that azkaban wouldn't be so bad when he slid around her, barely brushing the fabric of her skirt and fairly skipped down the hall. Over his shoulder he yelled, "Weasley's a king sized shite."

Hermione forgot to move, staring at the silver square of fabric in her hands. Seeing nothing but brown eyes.

Until she thought, yeah, he was. And a startled laugh fell out.

That was how Ginny found her. Tear tracks down her cheeks, white knuckles, laughing almost hysterically.
"Are you... was it..?"
Hermione twisted in Ginny's arm to hug her properly, knowing they both needed the support.
"Yes."