Disclaimer: Too tired to be elaborate. Not mine. Credit to J.K. Rowling
A/N: As stated above. Too tired to elaborate. Must seek bed and sleep away my sorrows.
Enjoy.
Oh...it gets ummm...interesting 3/4 of the way down. Be warned. Rated M...
Ron had left promptly after the outburst, a smug smile fixed on his face while Hermione stared after him, shell shocked.
The slam of the door echoed through her mind as if it were nothing but an empty cavern, ringing in her ears like the harsh words Ron had thrown at her time and again. She was almost numb and insensate as she staggered and leant against the nearest solid object, allowing the blunt edge of the marble kitchen table top dig into the side of her waist as her tense arm sprawled across the top, sweeping away a bowl half full with cooling porridge.
She wanted to cry, God knows she desperately wanted to let those traitorous tears flow free down her face and scream and curse Ron like she should have done while he was standing smugly before her. The bile and salt which flooded her mouth gagged her and Hermione forced herself to swallow and force away whatever pity she felt for herself. She was so through with anger and she was through with pity…what was there left now but emptiness.
Hermione sunk to the floor, her thin robe ineffective against the cold which seeped through and cooled her skin. So that was it, perhaps from then on, she would subsist on a life of apathy. She would simply…
Oh HELL! Hermione swore at herself and swiped at her eyes. This was pathetic, she raged at herself, satisfied that her face was dry and those traitorous tears had not escaped after all. Why would she let that Weasley bastard affect her any more?! Merlin, he had ruined enough of her life as it was, what she felt for him now was nothing more than what she felt for hovering insect.
One thing bothered her still. Something Ron had said had about Draco…something which had stricken a rather sore nerve.
Why hadn't Draco…well…why hadn't he tried to seduce her into his bed yet? He had come goddamn close but that instance didn't count and she had heard enough stories about Draco to know that he was by no means celibate. Staring at the bedraggled reflection of herself in the kitchen window, Hermione calmly smoothed down her hair and frowned.
Well! She certainly wasn't going to win any points like this!
Sniffing indignantly, Hermione spun away. Foolish of her, it didn't matter what she looked like. A relationship should not be based solely on looks or physical attraction. If Draco Malfoy wanted her, he would want her for her mind and heart too!
She would forget the idiot men for today! She was going to go out and…and spoil herself! Nodding sharply in affirmation, Hermione quickly rushed to her bedroom and threw on the first outfit she saw before she rushed out the door, clutch in hand. Today was Hermione Granger's day; for herself and no one else; starting with Florean Fortescue's ice cream parlour.
By some good fortune, the day was just warm enough for Hermione to venture forth without a jacket and just bright enough to warrant a pair of snazzy sunglasses. Suddenly, she felt better. This was what it should all be about. A feeling of independence swept through her, taking with it the doubts about Malfoy and the annoyance with Ron. She felt more like herself now, more like the Hermione Granger who had graduated Hogwarts, top of her class with a world of possibility at her feet.
Hermione was still smiling broadly as she entered the muggle entrance of the leaky cauldron and greeted Tom cheerfully as he went about his day to day business, wiping down the scarred top of the wooden bar as he gave her a crooked smile.
