Dramione: An Impossible Fantasy [Being Edited]

Chapter 30: Forever Isn't That Long

HERMIONE

I scribble down words and numbers until my head spins; my eyes end up turning into slits as I try to finish the Transfigurations essay. I let out a tired laugh as Crookshanks prances past me, albeit silently to avoid the librarian's wrath.

I'm in the library, where the only company I have is a spider and some dust. The reason?

Head's common room: too uncomfortable. Scratch that, so awkward that I can't breathe sometimes. Gryffindor common room: too tense with Angela. I honestly never know what that witch is thinking - her pretty words and wide smiles reveal nothing.

And so I'm in the library, head bent and quill clenched. My stomach lurches and I realize I haven't eaten dinner. I almost briefly dismiss it, before I remember the harsh days when we ate nothing but mushrooms and berries. Ultimately, that played a large factor with Ron walking out.

I finish up the sentence, looking regrettably at the almost finished essay before taking the lantern and walking out. Madam Pince gives me an appraising look before letting me pass without comment.

I walk into the Great Hall, seeing that Harry and Ron have started eating dessert. I sit down next to them and nibble on some bread without really paying attention.

Ron smiles at me. My heart does a small skip, but that's it. I reassure myself that's it's just our love mellowing down into a more mature, stable, relationship, but I don't even believe the feeble lies I'm feeding myself.

When Harry looks at Ginny, there's a burning in his eyes. There's a love so strong and fierce that I know the fire will never burn out. When I look at Ron, I feel a tenderness that I have for Harry too. I love him; I really do.

But it's one of those first loves. First wild loves that burn bright and fast before dying out.

I force myself to think of something else, and end up with something more serious. I lower my voice so that the others around us can't hear. "Harry - Ron - did you hear about - " I begin.

Harry's face turns serious and his hand comes up in a reflexive movement to touch his scar. He's assured Ron and I several times that it doesn't hurt anymore, but old habits die hard.

"What?" says Harry.

"Nothing," I hurriedly assure. "Just something in the Prophet that's probably not true." I continue, absentmindedly fingering my plate. "They've rounded up several of the Death Eaters who tried to flee the country.

"Several of them surrendered and came back peacefully. Others fought. But they all ended up having a trial." I pause, watching him carefully. "All of them have been sentenced to life in Azkaban."

His face hardens and Ron looks down at his plate. I push on. "Do you - do you think that's fair - I mean, Azkaban is a terrible place... and even though the Dementors have been driven out.."

Ginny and Angela come in, apparently talking about something. I stop. "Let's just talk about this later," Ron says, casting a shifty look at his sister. I shrug.

We shift easily into another topic. But a faint sense of unease remains with me, and I can't figure out the reason of it.

"I have to finish my essay," I say eventually. I stand up, taking a treacle tart. Harry reaches out and looks disappointed when I wrap the last one in a napkin; I ignore him and wave goodbye.