Questioning Fate

“...and when I told him to tell me I’m beautiful,� Lavender paused, a saccharine smile playing at her lips, “he buried his face in my neck with his hands all over my hair, and mumbled ‘Urbeeyewtifuwl’. It was kind of sloppy – but very cute.�

At this, both Lavender and Parvati burst out in wild giggles. Apparently, the behaviour of flamboyant Ronald Weasley greatly amused them both.

However, within the depths of a separate four-poster at the far end of the girls’ dormitory, a third witch sat cross-legged with an expression of deep disgust. Sitting in her lap was a heavy, encyclopedia-sized book. Honestly, she thought venomously, shooting the two witches a glare from between the hangings on her bed. She then slipped a leather bookmark into Romances and the Witches’ Mind, of which she was reading to broaden her knowledge for NEWTs year.

“He smelt so heavenly!� Lavender’s voice continued to waft through the gold-trimmed ruby hangings.

“What did he smell like?� Parvati asked curiously, as though they were fantasizing about a film star.

“Like Butterbeer – lots of it.�

At this, Hermione Granger rolled her eyes, and stowed away her book. She likes a boy who reeks of Butterbeer and is likely too drunk to actually see her for who she is. She thought of the pre-Birthday celebration Lavender insisted upon in the Common Room, of which she had watched Lavender and her friends forcing Butterbeers by the dozen down Ron’s throat.

“- I really think we’re ready to go a step further now,� Lavender’s voice drifted, once again, this time carrying an air of purposeful mystery, and Hermione’s heart started to hammer, “now that we’ve -�

‘Silentium.’ Hermione conjured a nonverbal Deafening Charm almost instinctively. This made it so that she couldn’t hear the girls’ conversation, though everyone else in the room would remain unaffected. Silently, Hermione thanked her mother from which she inherited her great sense of self-control for situations such as these.

The night air was cold and sharp but damp – exactly what Hermione had grown to despise of the winter-to-spring transition weather. She longed for the longer periods of sunshine – days where she could settle herself down under the shade of a tree and peacefully read a book of hers, while listening to the mindless chatter of fellow students as they frolicked around in the light. Right now, all she could hear was the softly howling wind.

Nighttime meant endless studying, NEWT practice papers (though she still had more than a year until those), and being cooped up in her dormitory, but she knew the reason she was so frustrated was because she had nothing better to do.

Crookshanks, who seemed to be the most sympathetic of Hermione’s true feelings, curled up on her lap after stretching and yawning like a lion. The heaviness behind Hermione’s eyes told her that it was well past her bedtime, though she knew it would be a long time before her mind would be clear enough to sleep.

Lying tidily on her back, Hermione stared at the blank ceiling, peaceful memories haunting her mind…

“I bet you haven’t ever done anything too rebellious,� Ron laughed, his extremely freckled face plastered with a look of smugness, “You think you’re too good for that, don’t you?�

“Is that a crime?� Hermione’s eyebrows were raised high, a forgotten book lay opened in her lap, “Is it so bothersome that I – theoretically – have never done anything rebellious?�

“It’s a part of life, Hermione; one can’t go about not doing it once in a while. You’re missing out on fulfilling a natural tendency – it can’t be healthy.� Ron’s smirk was wide and as lopsided as ever, as he squinted around at their surroundings. He was obviously trying to impersonate Hermione’s speech. The sunlight was dimmed slightly by fluffy, cumulus clouds that floated through the light powder blue sky. A soft breeze played through their hair and clothes – it was perfect, for a mid-Autumn day.

This is what Hermione liked: she and Ron … well, ‘discussing and debating’. Ron flashed a look of smugness mixed with a certain degree of sincerity so Hermione knew it was all right.

However, the same smug look that Hermione thought was only saved for her was now what Ron shared with Lavender – accompanied by a look of obvious desire. Hermione remembered looking on from the bottommost stair of the girls’ dorms while Ron and Lavender squeezed themselves into one armchair, as they shared a conversation detailing Lavender’s emotions regarding their relationship – a “necessity for making it last� Lavender often quoted from Witch Weekly. Ron was gazing at her with rapt attention – attention that Hermione no longer received from him.

Images and fogginess mixed together in Hermione’s brain as she struggled to reach a state of consciousness. She didn’t want to go through another night of analyzing whatever she witnessed.

Knowing nothing else would ease the heaviness of her heart, Hermione pulled out her most precious belonging – her diary.

Saturday, March 1st, 1997 – Won-Won’s Ron’s Ronald’s Birthday – 12:15a.m.

Apparently it was obvious; obvious to everyone who knew us that there was “something� going on. The tone of their voices suggested that it was something pleasant, something to be happy about, but in their ignorance, they were terribly wrong. You see, Ron and I were never meant to be. Of course, that inconceivable thought was conspired ages ago - back to the time when Lavender lusted over Seamus, and various Gryffindor boys I didn’t keep track of, those of whom were not Ronald Weasley.

Perhaps fate never wanted us walking along that seemingly definite path, never wanting certainty – it would be too easy. In the warmth of a late summer's day, I remember when Ron and I decided to go on a walk beyond his family’s property. For such an ordinary day, I remember it so well. It was only us, walking in each other’s company. His eyes were all on me when I told him about my summer at home, and the two weeks I spent in Rome, Italy. I found it so strange that his company would make me feel so light-hearted and bubbly. To think, I even thought it would work out between us.

It must have been an ill-fated day the day I, Hermione Granger, fell for the trap of boys. I have always been known as an ambitious student – someone unlikely to allow such insignificant “teenage hormones� disrupt my big picture.

I will never understand why such an idea of “us� ever came between us. I may as well be an anti-social bookworm whose priority resides in my education alone, while he is a boy whose enthusiasm lies with what I consider to be pointless athletics in the form of Quidditch. I find my haven to be a quiet little common-room, preferably empty with a nice window overlooking a lake and lush trees. On occasion, I like to have the wireless playing classical music in the background. Whereas Ron enjoys the rowdy accompaniment of his peers, socializing and playing barbaric games such as Wizard’s Chess – how can one avoid intellectuality so readily? Surely, two completely different individuals such as Ron and I would already prove to be a challenging friendship to start off with.

This leads me to my next point: this boy, whom I once associated with, obliged to his hormones rather than the good common sense I believed he once possessed. According to Romances and the Witches’ Mind, witches generally have more sense of choosing a partner, as opposed to wizards, whose hormones override logic in their brains. Therefore, wizards tend to fool themselves by good-looking witches, and shallow, one-sided relationships that simply don’t work. This defines Ron and Lavender’s relationship. “It’s only natural.�

According to the average witch of my year, relationships consist of intense snogging in front of the whole house (because they “mustn’t be afraid to display public affection�, otherwise “[he] might be afraid to show off the relationship, or the fact that he likes [the girlfriend]�), buying jewelry that blatantly displays the intensity of their relationship (wearing their supposed emotions around their neck, literally) and complementing each other on their looks and kissing techniques when they are not snogging or buying one another gifts. Also, witches must always be late for their dates, to crank up the nerves of their partners, and to not appear to be desperate. Why people go through stages of ludicrous behaviour escapes me, as I’ve skipped that stage in life altogether.

As for the male gender, why should they be susceptible to such ridicule? Those “My Sweetheart� necklaces and certain rules of dating are supposedly known by all. It so happens that the girls who play this “game� possess the pulchritude those wizards’ hormones crave for.

What angers me the most is the fact that it’s Ron’s fault that I lost my sense. Whatever plan he had in his head… thinking that he fancied me – what rubbish! Who am I to fool myself, thinking that Ron would want a brain over someone who is attractive? It is perfectly like him to do that – having the best girl who’ll have him, even if she’s completely horrible. Additionally, what was I thinking when I predicted that he and Lavender wouldn’t last? They are perfect for each other. Both of them are lusting in what they think is a good healthy relationship, rather than the person they are with.

Now I must get it straight though my head that I have never – I repeat, NEVER – lusted, fancied, or adored Ronald Weasley as anything more than a friend. According to Love Sick: Love as a Mental Illness, a Muggle psychology book, infatuation is very common among those who have low self-esteem, and therefore crave the thought of someone fancying them. I would not say that I have a low self-esteem - that is very inaccurate. Perhaps the fact that I have experienced very little romance in comparison to others may be the reason why I was delusional by Ron’s supposed interest in me.

The question is: Why am I so stuck on him?

Hermione withdrew her concentration from writing. The muscles in her hand were contracting uncomfortably in a cramp that could no longer be ignored. Realizing she must have been writing for an hour, she rubbed her eyes hesitantly. There were unhappy creases lining her forehead, and a frown weighing down her lips.

She surreptitiously drew the dark ruby hangings to check that her roommates were asleep. ‘Finite Incantatem,’ Hermione thought, canceling the Deafening Charm. From the bed next to her she could hear Lavender’s soft, gentle snoring. The teenage girl’s fair complexion glowed in the moonlight, and her hair fanned out on the pillow in long and silky strands. She is an undeniably pretty girl, Hermione thought reluctantly.

Why am I so stuck on him?

Rarely would she let a question go unanswered before going to bed, but since it concerned Ron, it probably never would be resolved.

***

Ron’s Birthday – 10:30pm

“Er-my-nee,� he mumbled. Three syllables that sounded awfully like my name. It took a lot of my self-control not to break down; I longed to hold his unconscious, poisoned body and shake him because he frightened me so much. It was such a foreign emotion I never remembered having before.

It continues to shake me now… the undeniable fact that I just care so much about him, regardless of how contrasting our personalities are, and how horrible he can be. To think, the reason why he is in such a state is because he was pining over another girl, the causes of a silly love potion, and a trip to Professor Slughorn’s office to undo the effects.

It has been months since what I had thought to be the starting of our relationship and I still haven’t been able to let go. I’ve spent countless hours debating over my true emotions, my mind too emotionally involved to think logically.

I have to make my decision now, before I over-analyze and decide against it. I should even write a contract here in my diary so I can’t change my mind. I suppose it doesn’t matter any more if Ronald … if Ron has a girlfriend, a love interest, a past relationship that he will never forget (first loves/infatuations are not easily forgotten). I had Krum, as innocent as our relationship was, I will always have that to remember. Getting back on topic, what Ron has with Lavender should not stop me from continuing to be his friend. No matter how much I want to deny it sometimes, I drive myself crazy without him, and he needs me to keep him in line.

My conclusion? With Ron, I won’t ever have a conclusion.

So here is my very informal, unprofessional contract to myself, dear diary.

I, Hermione Jane Granger, will overlook the former observations made by hypercritically assessing Ron’s personal love life, therefore starting afresh and making amends by befriending Ronald Bilius Weasley. These efforts include supporting his cause, indulging in natural and light-hearted conversations with him (including whoever he associates with), cheering for him at Quidditch games, and assisting him during times of homework/schoolwork crisis. I will make this effort until it is undeniably obvious he does not wish for a friendship to exist between us.

Signed on: March 1st, 1997

Signature: Hermione Jane Granger

End

A/N: “Silentium� is a charm I made up so that Hermione could deafen herself to the other girls’ conversation, opposed to “Silencio� which would have muted them.

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