HIS CHOSEN GIRL [MAJOR EDITING/REWRITING]

second year ➤the end of the year

HIS CHOSEN GIRL
chapter sixty one-the end of the year
[Your P.O.V]
☟ ☟ ☟

I sit at the table harmoniously along with my friends and fellow Gryffindors at the end of the year feast as we laugh and cheers one another to surviving another year at Hogwarts.

"Welcome back, Sir Nicolas!" Shouts on of the students further down the table as the ghost floats around the great hall.

"Thank you!" He replies happily.

"Good evening, Sir Nicholas!" Shouts another.

"Good evening!"

"Good to see you, Sir Nicholas!"

"Thank you!"

Harry turns to me and smiles. "Glad things are back to normal?"

I nod urgently. "You have no idea."

Neville, from a few seats over, begins pointing to the entrance, shaking his arm excitedly. "Guys, look! It's Hermione!"

"Hermione?" I ask a confusing mixture of overjoyed and panicked as I turn to the hall entrance, to confirm her presence.

There she stands, alive and well, a big smile plastered on her face as she locks eyes with our group. Ron and Harry spring up immediately and I follow along but much more hesitantly. I don't know what to expect, but I'm sure she'll hate me. How could she not? I was the one who petrified her.

I watch as Hermione begins speeding towards us, Harry meeting her halfway as he throws his arms out to catch her in a hug. I smile at the sight of my two best friends before feeling immediately saddened that I wasn't the first to hug her, to welcome her back.

Hermione and Harry break apart and she turns to Ron, the both of them with outstretched arms and a nervous look appearing on their faces when neither of them make the first move. Awkwardly, Ron extends his arm for her to shake.

"Uh..." he shakes off the weird tension before flashing her a sure smile. "Welcome back, Hermione."

She smiles back at him. "It's good to be back."

She peeks over their shoulders and when her eyes lock with mine, all I can see is her petrified face and completely involuntarily, I begin to cry.

She walks over to me with a look one could confuse with sympathy that gives me nothing but false hope. "(y/n)-"

"Hermione, I am so sorry. Saying those mere words allowed don't feel like enough and I know that they're not enough, but please, please you must know that I didn't know what I was doing. You're my best friend, obviously I'd never knowingly do something like that to you ever. I feel sick and disgusted with myself and I get that you may never forgive me I know that I will never forgive me, I-"