Scribbles
By: Grace (purplemud)

Disclaimers: Standard disclaimers apply. If I owned HP, I'll let you in on what would happen in the final book. (snickers). Oh, and Hermione would be treated better.
Parings: R/Hr-sih in a sad sort of way. (Sorry, I am too attached to my pumpkin pies)
Summary: Scribble #1: Hermione used to think that being in love with Ron was just perfect. It was what was right, what was easier, what was meant to be, bound, destined to happen.
Spoilers: Books 1-5-ish. Not much, really. It's more of an AU anyway.
Note: Would love feedback. Much.

#1

Empty

Hermione used to think that being in love with Ron was just perfect. It was what was right, what was easier, what was meant to be, bound, destined to happen. Everything that she did, that he did, led towards that inevitable moment when they'd fall madly into each other's arms and… and…

And always, this was where she couldn't picture doing anything else with Ron.

They'd fall madly into each other's arm and then nothing. Nothing would follow that train of thought, that daydream…

It was as if that was how it would end for them.

Hermione knew that it wasn't how love should work. It certainly would start there, that initial mind blowing spark and then from there, everything would begin. But how come she couldn't think of anything else after that? She couldn't even envision walking around the lake with Ron because she knew that he'd eventually get bored by it. Ron thrived on action. He wasn't the broody, quite sort of guy. Long, aimless, silent walks would bore him to his death. He'd insist on engaging her on some conversation and that would ultimately lead to another row with him.

It wasn't the first time Hermione acknowledge the fact that she and Ron were complete polar opposites. But that didn't mean their relationship can't work and survive. Sure, it meant a whole lot of work on their part: a lot of compromising and endless, boundless, limitless amount of patience, which sadly, neither one of them can seem to manage.

She hated arguing with Ron but he always seemed to know what to say or do to hurt her the most. But didn't she love Ron? Didn't she get jealous when Ron and Lavender started snogging each other senseless?

What they have – the endless arguments and flocks of angry, twittering yellow birds put aside – wasn't it all worth it? She used to believe in that and now… well… well...

Sometimes, the answer to those questions seemed so out of her reach but then there were times when the answers were so blindingly obvious and yet… she refused to give up.

Hermione closed her eyes again: she and Ron would fall madly into each other's arms and… and… and…

And always, the blankness that followed would leave her feeling so terribly empty.