Hermione Granger Imagines | H.G. x Reader

Y/N Cheats on Hermione

Though I had passed through the door that stood before me dozens of times, it seemed unfamiliar and unreasonably tall. I felt the tension even through the walls and the shaking sobs of the girl that sat behind it. Her cries pained me, and it hurt even more knowing I was the reason.

    I messed up. Bad. And I knew it'd be better to explain to herself than have her raise her own assumptions. I didn't mean to do what I did. I didn't realize what would happen. Fuck.

    Her cries intensified as I slowly turned the brass handle of her dorm and cracked it open slightly. Hermione didn't look up from the curled position she laid in as I stepped forward and into the room. My foot felt behind me to tap it shut as I carefully approached the distraught Gryffindor.

    "Don't come any closer," Hermione cried out from behind her tucked knees.

    I halted to a stop just a few feet in front of her, shifting slightly with on the balls of my feet.

    "Mione, I'm—"

    "Save it, Y/N."

    No nickname. I screwed up bad.

    Hermione slowly rose to sit against her headboard, her eyes puffy and red from obvious hours—perhaps days—of crying. Her usually neat hair laid against her collarbones in a heap of curls. Her rosy tint had faded from her cheeks, the paleness seeming to have spread to the rest of her body.

    Worry washed over me as I took in her appearance. "Did you eat? Do you need water?"

    "How could you?" Hermione looked at me straight in the eyes, her sudden change in tone making me flinch.

    "I didn't—"

    "Y/N, you promised me that you'd never break my heart—that you'd do anything to make sure I wasn't in pain!"

    My chest tightened at the tone of her voice, quivering and pained. Her eyes seemed to be engulfed in a fire that awoke her from her stagnant position.

    "You promised me! Why, Y/N? Why? Why did you do it?"

    Tears brimmed at both of our eyes as we stared intensely, our hearts breaking at the sudden escalation.

    "I'm sorry, Mione. I really am. I'm so sorry—"

    "Answer my question!" Hermione roared. "Answer me!"

    "I don't know! I'm sorry, I just..." Guilt took over my senses, but why should I feel guilty? After all, she wouldn't be here crying if I hadn't gone off messing around during Christmas break.

    "You don't know? How could you not? Did you think I wouldn't have found out? Do you really think that, Y/N?"

    "No, no I don't. I just missed you, Mione. I needed someone over the break, and mistakes happened. I wasn't expecting—"

    "Expecting what?!" Hermione intervened. "You weren't expecting me to be mad about it? Well guess what, Y/N. I'm fuming. And I am not okay with it! I'm not bloody okay with it."

    Hermione's chest heaved with anger, and her fists were clenched around the stuffed owl I had bought for her in Diagon Alley just a few months ago.

    I couldn't do anything but stare. The apologies, the pleads, the excuses I had prepared prior—they suddenly vanished. My mouth opened to speak, but nothing came out.

    "Just leave, Y/N," Hermione spoke, now in a softer tone than earlier. "Leave, and take this stupid owl with you."

    The stuffed owl came at an alarmingly harsh rate, something I hadn't expected from the girl with distress. I caught it with both arms, hugging it close to my chest—a memory all too familiar when Hermione had first received it, her arms hugging it close with a beaming smile.

    I knew better than to stay, so I swallowed my pride and turned on my heel. As I walked towards her door, it felt like my shame had been dragged along with me, pulling me back. But I knew I couldn't go back. I couldn't go back to her ever. Her trust was broken. And with a heavy heart, I stepped out of her dorm, knowing that I wouldn't ever be able to go back to her.