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Chapter 1 : Games
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Chapter One: Games
She blanked. Once again. She had so many thoughts running through her mind, yet, no matter how hard she tried, she couldn’t write down a single word. Not even the most basic, Once Upon A Time.
Finally, she managed to write down one word.
Yes, she thought, that was what life was, just games. You either loose or win. You can never sit idly on the sidelines watching someone else fight for you. She had fought her battle for the first time in years and she had lost. She had lost big time. She had lost everything she was fighting for. Now, she had nothing. Nothing too loose, nothing to gain.
“Hermione, darling, are you okay?” Hermione looked up and saw Ginny standing in the doorframe, her pale pink silk nightdress hanging off her shoulders. It was no wonder she had so many dates per week. “Hermione you need to get some sleep. You can’t just waste your life away, he wouldn’t have wanted that.”
Hermione brushed a piece of hair out of her eye and nodded slowly to the sleeping beauty.
“I’m fine Ginny really.” She lied easily. It was curious how easily lying came to her. “I really am.” Ginny stared at Hermione skeptically and rubbed her arm.
“Mione, you need to get some sleep.” Ginny walked over to Hermione and closed her journal. “Come on Mione, please, sleep. You need sleep.” Ginny tried to pull Hermione out of her chair, but it was no avail.
“I don’t need sleep Gin. I just need to write.” Hermione shrugged Ginny’s hand away and returned to her closed notebook. “I just need to write,” She repeated more quietly.
Just need to write. Those words were the most common words that rotated through her mind lately.
“Fine.” Ginny sighed and tiptoed back to her room. Hermione strained her ears and listened to Ginny’s small, petite feet walk up the hallway and climb into bed.
“I just need to write.” She repeated to herself again. By the time Hermione got a sleep, the sun was beginning to steadily rise over the London buildings.
It took Hermione 3 cups of coffee before she even felt vaguely awake. Ginny on the other hand couldn’t keep a smile off her face
Ginny on the other hand was bouncing around the flat with joy. Harry — her ex-boyfriend and the only boy she had ever loved — had just sent her a letter saying that he was back in London for a few weeks.
“I’ve got to get to training.” The breathless Ginny said, reaching for her wand, “Are you gonna be okay?” Hermione stared at her flatmate and forced a fake smile onto her face.
“I’ll be fine.” She replied, taking another sip of her coffee. Ginny stared at Hermione before, finally, Disapparating on the spot. Hermione was left to wallow in self pity.
Standing to her feet, Hermione looked around the flat. There were memories. The whole flat was covered in memories.
A sea of memories Hermione thought. She never knew that memories could be a plague, that, once etched into her mind could haunt her forever. She wished they would vanish. She wanted to rid herself of all her memories. To start fresh and to forget about life, but she couldn’t. Ginny needed her.
Suddenly, a window snapped open, slamming into the walls. Hermione let out a scream and dived to the ground. Her hands blocked her ears and her eyes were closed shut. Eventually, the banging ceased and Hermione was able to stand to her feet. Her legs were shaking as she walked over to the window and slammed it shut. The cold fresh air vanished, leaving the musty smell to settle back down.
Come on girl! Get up! It has been weeks! Hermione thought to herself, getting cross at herself. It had been weeks, almost months. She should be over it by now. Mad at herself, Hermione stormed through the flat and grabbed a nearby book. Sitting down on a book, she began to read.
*“A long time ago, when seeking was finding, there lived a young maiden in a tiny cottage on the edge of a large and prosperous Kingdom. The maiden had few means and her cottage was hidden so deeply within the dark woods as to obscured from common view. There had been those, long ago, who knew of the little cottage with its stone fireplace, but such folk had long passed and Mother Time had drawn a veil of forgot around the cottage. Aside from birds who came to sing on her windowsill, and the woodland animals who came in search of her warm hearth, the maiden was alone. Yet was she never lonely or unhappy, for the maiden of the cottage was too busy to pine for company she’d never had.”*
Her eyes scanned up and down the page, taking in every word. If anything could take her mind off what had happened. Books could. Hermione quickly flipped the page and then suddenly a small sheet of paper fell out. Picking it up gingerly—hands shaking—Hermione read what was on the paper.
My dearest Hermione.
It’s only 2 months until our wedding day! That is exactly 61 days! Whoever thought, that I, Ronald Weasley, would be counting down the days until something. SHOCK! HORROR!
Anyway, seeing I’m going to be away until then I thought I should write you a letter (I know how much you love to read—you might even love that more than you love me)
Harry’s calling. At the moment, we are an abounded warehouse in France. It reminds us of our days when we were camping. God, those were good times.
I miss you so much! Words cannot describe it (although you would say otherwise)
I’m not trying to make this sound like one of those soppy love letters you read about in those Goddamn books of yours -- even though I don’t think you would complain much if they did but, Hermione, my dear Hermione, I love you. I love you more than anything in the world.
Now, I’ve REALLY got to go (seriously, Harry is practically screaming in my ear).
I shall write to you as soon as possible.
I love you.
Your fiance, Ron Weasley
Tears rolled freely down Hermione’s cheeks but she didn’t bother to wipe them away. His calligraphy was beautiful, the way his letters slanted when he was excited or in a rush. She never seemed to notice that before. She never noticed much about him before.
“Before.” Hermione eoched. Life was so much simple before. Before everything happened, “Before.”
Hermione pinched herself, trying to make herself believe that everything that was happening was a bad dream. That all her problems—all her pain would just go away. But, yet again, the pain did not go away. It just made it worse.
Hermione stood to her feet and walked out the door. She felt like screaming. Hermione slammed the door behind the her. Smiling to herself, Hermione stormed out of her apartment and into the busy streets of London.
A.n, Yes. I'm reposting this story ( i don't know why i deleted it in the first place but anyway) let me know what you think!!
*I do not own that fairytale. It was written by Kate Morgan in her book 'The Forgotten Garden' (it's amazing, you should all check it out!)
Read and review!!!
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