To all the wizards I have loved before

Chapter 1

Okay so this is going to be taking place during sixth year because Ron is dating Lavender and I wanted that to be a part of the story. I'm just going to say right now that it's not going to be exactly like to all the boys I've loved before  so don't expect it to be. Thank you once again for your votes and comments and I love you all strange unusual humans 💞
_________________

Hermione woke to the sound of a squealing pig, well a screaming Lavender that is.

She wasn't even able to completely pry her eyelids open before a shrieking Lavender Brown tore back the curtains to Hermione's four poster bed.

"HOWDAREYOUWRITEALOVELETTERTOMYWONWON!" Lavender would have doubled over in rage if she hadn't been clenching her fist around one of the posters of Hermione's dormitory bed.

If an onlooker had caught glimpse of Hermione Granger's face then, they might have observed how her henna skin paled slightly at the blonde witches words.

"Wh-wh-what?" Hermione hoped she was still asleep. This seemed like the most realistic nightmare her brain could come up with, and it was absolutely terrifying.

"You heard me you whoreish bimbo." Lavender Brown narrowed her eyes at the curly haired witch. She had always disliked Hermione Granger, not only was she beautiful, she was extremely intelligent. Lavender had suspected Hermione to be a little jealous of her and Ron, but she had brushed it off. But she had taken it way too far this time.

But Hermione wasn't paying attention to the blonde, much less her petty insults. All she could think of was how her letter to Ron had gotten out and whether her other ones had gotten out as well. She had three choice words in mind as well, but she knew better than to scream them out like she wanted to.

So instead of responding Hermione walked right past Lavender and pulled on some muggle clothes. She needed to get out of these dormitories, this tower.
She bounded down the stairs of the girls dormitories, ignoring Lavenders shrill cries in protest.

Rushing through the common room soon deemed impossible though.

"Hermione!" She knew that voice. That voice had insulted her smarts in first year, defended her in second year, accused her cat in third year, yelled at her in fourth year, admired her bravery in fifth year, and seemed to hate her this year.

Ronald.

She stopped dead. Turning she recoiled at the coldness in Ron's stance, his eyes.

She stood there for what felt like hours just staring at this boy. The boy she had loved for so many years, now looked like a stranger. The coldness radiating off of him was unbearable. She couldn't stand that look in his eyes another minute. She turned on her heel and fled.

Hermione fled to the one place she never felt judged. The one place she could go to think straight. To fix this mess.

The library.