Imprint ( Hermione Granger x Female Reader )

23: Desire Or Love?

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No one really talks about the second night after the break-up, how hopeless you feel all day while waiting for an "I'm here, can we fix this? Can we try again?", but then the realization hits. Your heart drops for the second time, sometimes you'd beg God to numb the pain and even deprive you of anything but a second chance.

Then you're swept away by a wave of desperation that comes with the feeling of missing your person, your home. You reminisce in attempt to relive the past, in feae that you'll forget those precious memories that you held onto dearly.

"What the fuck is wrong with me?!" groaned Hermione into her pillow, repeating the same sentence for the umpteenth time as she replayed the memory over and over again. She felt an immense amount of guilt, but she couldn't help but wonder if if meant something to the Slytherin, surely it did, right?

Hermione sighed into her pillow. She only had (Y/N) during their clandestine meetings at night, when the Slytherin is all over her. Her stares would linger, her touch would burn, but she wondered wildly if the eyes that always looked deeply into hers, actually saw Hermione?

She knew how to read people, after all she was the one who knocked common sense into Harry when he was struggling to understand Cho when they used to date. But (Y/N)? She didn't know shit, even after the latter opened up to her about her past and her feelings. Sometimes a light would turn on in Hermione whenever the Slytherin did something for her, but she'd try to tell herself that it's normal, you don't need to have feelings to help someone out.

The day after they fucked; The Gryffindor didn't know what to expect. (Y/N) greeted her goodmorning and treated her in a civilized manner as though nothing really happened. This honestly upset Hermione, because she'd have to watch the latter conversing with Yunjin and the others enthusiastically, cracking jokes and constantly teasing. Usually Hermione and (Y/N) would argue and insult eachother to compensate this, but after what happened, the Slytherin would merely give a small smile at the Gryffindor's insults.

"Get your tits up, 'Mione!" spoke a voice as several figures barged into the room loudly. "Adults are out! Fred and George got us some firewhiskey to try out."

"Aren't you a minor, Gin?" sighed Hermione as she got up, a groan leaving her lips at the sight of the group of enthusiastic teenagers that included (Y/N).

"Oh live a little, grandma." huffed Ginny with a roll of her eyes.

"It'd be rude to not appreciate a gift, right Miss-Know-It-All?" joked Pansy as the group circled round the carpet, the bottles in her hands clanking as they sat down. The Gryffindor gave a mere huff in response as she got up from her bed to sit on the carpet next to Harry.

"Where's Ronald?" she queried, noticing her boyfriend's absence.

"Mrs. Weasley took him out to shop. Quidditch stuff." explained Harry with a grin. "Good thing though, eh? You always got annoyed having to deal with him when he's drunk."

"Mm," replied Hermione in a daze, trying to cancel out (Y/N)'s melodic laugh that was ringing sweetly in her ears. She looked on front of her, the latter sitting a few feet away with Yunjin and Pansy by her side. The three were already drinking along with Ginny who was laughing with them.

Yunjin was pretty, the Gryffindor couldn't deny that. She was kind as well, she'd do small acts of service for everyone, like if she wanted to make coffee for herself, she'd ask everyone else if they wanted one as well. She's also rather care-free, she knew how to live— something Hermione couldn't really do.

She understood why (Y/N) would be fond of her. And her understanding crushed her own heart a little. She allowed her eyes to avert to the girl next to the ginger, watching the corner of her eyes crinkle with each laugh. Whenever Yunjin spoke, (Y/N) would shut up and stare softly at the ginger, giving her full attention; she used to do that with Hermione, it used to be her favourite, she'd always feel her heart soften at the look the latter gave her.

Confusion.

I'm usually in control of my emotions. Your happiness brings a rain on my parade when I'm not the cause of it, and I don't understand why I'm feeling this way.

There could be so many other people in the room but my eyes would betray me and wander off to you, why they do that is a mystery to me. My thoughts are tangled, I can't unravel them cause you're making it so difficult for the both of us.

Hermione shook her head and allowed her thoughts to subside and enjoy the group's presence. It wasn't long before nearly everyone got tired due to the booze, they soon got up and bade goodnight, departing to their designated bedrooms. All but one idiot.

"It's late." stated Hermione dryly after five minutes had passed, the Slytherin still sitting on the carpet, her eyes on the floor.

"You're so cruel, 'Mione." yawned (Y/N), lifting her head up to face the Gryffindor, who had her head tilted slightly to the side, her eyebrows furrowed in confusion. "I wish you knew the thoughts I have about you, I can't articulate it— I never could, that's why I had Pansy help me write that letter a few months ago."

"Ew," fake-gagged Hermione, praying to Merline that the latter was too drunk to notice her flustered state. "You're drunk, Romeo. Leave me alone and jerk off to one of your many girlfriends."

"Why do you have to make this so hard for us?" questioned (Y/N), staring at the Gryffindor with furrowed eyebrows, her confusion complement with Hermione's. "Goddamnit, Granger—" she scoffed, letting out an exasperated laugh. "You touch me in ways you don't even touch your boyfriend— then you go and act like nothing even happened. Am I just a secret you ought to keep, a temptation you can't set free?"

"As if you—" began Hermione abruptly as though ready to argue angrily.

"You hurt me," mumbled the Slytherin, her voice coming out soft. Her softened features tugged the Gryffindor's heart strings.

God curse this soft spot I have for you.

"I don't like the way that you treat me now." admitted (Y/N), scrunching her nose slightly, her face flushing red from the alcohol. Her words pierced the Gryffindor's heart, but a side in Hermione, the cocky side wanted to say that it's the latter's fault for leaving.

"But I don't think I care that much, I'm miserably drawn to you."

You're not drawn enough you idiot.

"How could I stay away when my bones ache to be within your reach, to get lost in the vicinity of you and your touches?"

I'd keep you handcuffed to me if I could.

Hermione could hear her own heartbeat, the spark in her was firing up at the Slytherin's words, the words she wished to hear. But she merely let out a sigh and a forced roll of her eyes.

"You're really drunk, aren't you?"

I pray that you'll still want me like this when you're sober.

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