Title: Thirty

Character: Hermione Granger

Rate: G

Length: Drabble

Word Count: 381

Genre: Angst. (Gen)

AN: Something I wrote some time ago- it was before DH but the book (minus the epilogue) can (I think) be applied here.

Thanks a lot to LadyWhiteHart for the beta. :) 

 

THIRTY

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Looking at her reflection in the mirror, Hermione Granger could hardly believe she had just turned thirty. She didn’t look different, or older. Hermione didn’t feel different. She didn’t feel any wiser, or smarter.

She looked the same, feeling the same. And in many levels this made her to feel- not sad or even depressed, but maybe disillusioned.

Yes, disillusioned was the best word to describe it.        

She was still the brightest witch of her age; she had a good job- and that was it. Just it. Hermione Granger’s future simply didn’t turn out as she had expected. She was just existing.

No big plans, no wonderful projects, no lustful passions.

Just...

...day after day.

She couldn't complain about her life. In fact she should be just relieved that she had a life after the horrors of war.

It was just...

“I never had a proper boyfriend,” she said to herself, her voice seemed strange, almost cruel.

She was tired.

She wasn’t fooling herself with some silly beliefs that her happiness could depend on a boyfriend, a husband.

No. It wasn’t about that.   

Obviously she had had her some dates, and even a couple of one-night stands...but nothing that really mattered-not even the kisses she had shared with Ron when they were eighteen.

Today she would laugh at that.

She still remembered the day when Ginny, now Mrs. Finnigan, had asked her if she ever had fallen in love.

Hermione had been ‘saved’ from answering when Molly had called them—the dinner was had been ready.

She had felt relieved. Not because she hadn’t know what to answer- no, because exactly the contrary.

Her answer would have been yes.

Yes.

And even five years after that day, her answer would still be yes.

She brought a hand to her mouth as the realization came to her mind, and the tears began to fall. She felt so silly, so foolish.

And those internal voices began to play again, constantly reminding her how pathetic she could be.

How alone she was.

She wanted to fight that pain, to be stronger, to tell herself that she...

But she simply couldn’t take it anymore.

She just wanted to scream.

But she had no voice.

She was falling-

-and had no one to catch her pieces.

 

Finis.