[1] 𝐇𝐎𝐍𝐄𝐘𝐄𝐃 𝐋𝐈𝐏𝐒 ― h.potter

007.

「007. the firebolt: sponsored by leslie jr jordan [ i am not going mad] 」

MAYBE HONEY'S migraine problems didn't step from a lack of hydration- maybe they stemmed from from stupid gryffindors who yelled at their sort-of-friends for their pet apparently 'killing' their own. which was to say, maybe her migraines stemmed from a certain ronald bilius weasley.

he was a gangly, ginger-haired weasley spawn, who frankly didn't use his brain to filter the things he said. he obviously used his brain (he was actually quite good at transfiguration and charms), but it all seemed to go out the window when it came to socialisation. maybe beneath all the freckles and fiery red hair and easily burnable skin (get some melanin, you white dickhead), he was nice or funny. but he'd made hermione cry, and that was a big no-no for honey.

she honestly didn't know why she was so upset. she wasn't the one who had her pet 'killed' or 'accused', but the bittered shouting rang in her and something in her said 'NEVER AGAIN', flashing back to a similar situation filled with dyed red hair and heeled boots belonging to a certain platformed hellion. she would not let another be alone whilst ron got somebody to cling to- just as she had. honey would be the irrational lion cub she had, and she'd do a damn better job than he was doing.

honey had nobody to cling to before hermione. before the genius gryffindor, she was alone. had she had somebody to cling to after her, then perhaps things would have turned out differently. the what if's seemed to be the one fueling honey to 'comfort' or keep hermione company.

which she needed, desperately.

one glance at hermione, and a raging storm bubbled in honey very easily. she glanced at hermione, and saw a chunk of herself there. maybe not all of her, certainly not as 'vindictive' as other people would put it, but she saw something there. good or bad, honey would stand by her. besides how annoyingly curious she was, she had given something honey hadn't had in a while (and secretly craved): a friend.

"will you be fine in your common room by yourself?" she asked, sounding strangely caring. "you can come to the hufflepuff common room. hannah and vi might smother you, but it's better than your lot."

"i'll be fine," hermione said, "now go return your books. professor pince nearly killed a child last time they returned a book a day late- don't make the same mistake."

honey scoffed, her final words of goodbye being a moody little jab at the faculty. "why does every teacher at this school have murderous tendancies?"

hermione never got to answer why, as honey had already fled to the library. climbing up the stairs, two books in hand, she passed by several younger students, all seeming to busy themselves rather nicely. she didn't really like the younger students, not particularly. they might have been quite sweet, but they asked the most annoying fucking questions that honey simply hated. they were like hermione jean granger on crack.

"i just don't understand her," grumbled a voice echoing down the stairways, "she acts so innocent!"

"ron..." said a strained voice.

pretty potter and ronald.

"i know, i know- i'll shut up about it," grumbled ron's voice, the echoing of his footsteps coming closer as honey travelled up another set. "but... scabbers was my pet- i know it wasn't much, but it was the first thing i got to call mine. percy gave up on him after a week, and i was always the one looking after scabbers. the bugger was annoying... a greedy thing- but it was mine."