Hogwarts. The place Harry yearned to spend time with his closest friends. Yet, as time passed, it grew harder to keep bonds from crumbling and friendships from falling apart. The world was changing. Voldemort was nearing. Hermione and Harry were fal...
*still editing my loves - literally it's a mess don't read it yet lol*
also in reference to the title.. Game of Thrones, anyone??
.. no melissandre is not in this fanfic(although that would make for a fantastic yet confusing crossover) the red woman is in reference to the gem ginny weasley. come on readers, we must stan ALL women in this fic 🤪
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- ginerva weasley
No one dared speak a word when Hermione had entered a room. It didn't matter, as she hardly acknowledged the presence of others anymore. Few actually possessed the ability to get her attention anymore. The news of the fight between the two 'Golden Boys' spread like wildfire, leaving Hermione's reputation completely exposed and demolished by those who claimed to have seen and know the entire story. The rumors had absolutely no affect on her anymore.
Still, despite the fact that she could care less what a bunch of mindless fourth years thought about her and the dramatic whirlwinds she had been forced upon throughout the past few weeks, she had to admit, it didn't feel at all comforting to be consistently alone. Hermione was frustrated in revealing her newly found fear of being both exposed and alone, which hadn't really bothered her before. She was a girl who grew up growing used to the impolite and critical looks of those who were genuinely bothered by her presence. They snickered and rolled their hypocritical eyes in a manner where they hoped she would notice. And she always did, and even when it bothered her, it never surpassed the love she had for being strong willed and brilliant.
In her current state of mind, however, she couldn't stand the idea of being in the Common Room at this hour, alone, doing nothing but picking at the cuticles of her fingers. She hadn't even bothered picking up the nearby novel that, on almost any other occasion, would be calling her name from miles away. The thought alone of reading it made her stomach churn.
It was odd for all of the students to be away from the Common Room at an hour that neared bed time so closely, but Hermione was not surprised, as her peers didn't know how to properly approach her since finding out of her "incestuous" relationship with Harry and the brawl between him and Ron. Even Ginny has been avoiding her narrowly, behaving just as Ron was weeks prior.
It made her blood boil when she considered that what she had with him was no longer theirs to cherish anymore. It now belonged to the various students who claimed to know them, and therefore had a right to an opinion.
It infuriated her that she felt devastated to be alone. It angered her that he left her, without a decent farewell. It enraged her that the last recollection she had of him was his disgusted face scowling down at her, telling her 'don't'. It petrified her to acknowledge the possibility that her last encounter with Harry would be the one of her begging him to look her in the eyes, to allow her to explain. And it saddened her that despite all of the resentment she felt toward him for making her feel vulnerable in this way, his presence was the only one she yearned for. But what made her emotions most erratic, what made a single tear threaten to spill down her cheek was the fact that her immense love for the boy she had known since she was twelve made her weak. What else could it be that was leaving her shackled to this spot?
She had asked him to be careful, and a part of her trusted that he cared for her enough to fulfill that promise, despite whatever betrayal he might be feeling. He was with Dumbledore, and that was comforting enough to not make her want to vomit on the spot, and yet she could not bring herself to leave the isolated space that was allowing her thoughts to swallow her whole.
Surprisingly, before she became engulfed in the thought of Harry once again, she heard someone softly mutter the password to the Fat Lady, the portrait hole swinging open only a moment after. Hermione found herself standing to her feet as if it would allow her to present herself better to the brave lone soul who dared enter the Common Room whilst she was in there.
"Ginny," Hermione said, surprised to find the ginger haired girl walking toward her slowly, with her hair as straight and taut as ever, forcing Hermione to quickly push away the biting jealousy that accompanied whenever Ginny entered a room.
"Why him, Hermione," Ginny whispered. Her gaze could not even be brought to Hermione's, making her another individual of many who found it difficult to confront her in the eyes. One of them, being Harry. Hermione brushed a stray bundle of curls out of her eyes, and found herself also unable to hold direct eye contact. She couldn't bring herself to answer. She hadn't chosen Harry, it wasn't even as if he chose her. It was simply, they had been so close for so long whilst rejecting the feelings that made them feel apart from everyone else. Hermione wasn't used to feeling wanted. It felt nice to be wanted by someone who she trusted. But she couldn't admit that to someone else who Harry wanted, in a different time. That's why she wished that they were still in their little bubble, where he'd loved no one else.
"W-What do you mean," she whispered, barely hearing the words leave her lips. Ginny must have, though, because she rolled her pretty brown eyes and scoffed sharply.
"I'm sure you thought you could keep it all from me for as long as you could. All the sneaking around, all the missed gazes and smiles that you thought no one else could ever notice.. Tell me, Hermione. Did you ever consider that I still loved him?"
Hermione remembered Harry telling her that Ginny attempted to explain her feelings toward him, and the reason their spark began to dissipate. She remembered hearing Ginny claim that his fame was too much for her to handle, when in reality, attention was one of many things Ginny repeatedly sought after throughout her years. It was her own insecurities that forced her away from Harry, though she may never admit that to anyone else.
There was a bit of irony in Ginny's tone, a hint of it making Hermione almost want to laugh at a time like this. Ginny hadn't considered her love for Harry when she was off pursuing a relationship with someone else, or when she ignited a real chance at love with him, only to swat it away at the first sign of trouble. She never wanted Harry. But, she never wanted him to want someone else either. Hermione could feel that unimaginable ache rising throughout the beautiful redhead's chest. She imagined Ginny wondering with bitterness, "How on earth could he deny me, but embrace the likes of her? Why was I the one left alone in this?"
