Ballad for the Lost Romantics

BALLAD FOR THE LOST ROMANTICS

CHAPTER 4

Writer's block: the two most horrific words that haunted any and every author- and I was suffering from them.

It had been three weeks since my article (along with the rest of the paper) had made its debut, and that meant I had a little less than one week to squeeze out another. Normally, I would have already had it done, for I am not the procrastinating type, but every time I'd hold my quill above a piece of parchment, I'd just give a frown and place it back down.

What more did I really have to write about? I wrote my story; there wasn't anything left to tell. I mean, what was next? I couldn't help the situation I was in, so why complain about it?

But, as you are all aware of, I did eventually get over my writer's block, and as I look back on it now, I can easily pinpoint the source of it. Oliver Wood.

I had avoided him like the plague after that unexpected meeting, and save a few odd looks and awkward chit-chat, I had been completely successful.

Yes, I know I was a complete coward; so much for Gryffindor bravery, eh?

But that is beside the point. Let's get back to the matter at hand; I sat at my writing desk one evening, as I had many nights before, trying in vain to write my article. That was the precise moment Ginny Weasley came knocking at my door.

I looked up from the blank parchment and called for her to enter. She did so, casually sitting on my four-poster bed and staring quizzically at me.

"Hey, Herms, just thought I'd come up to see if you were okay," she looked me up and down as if trying to assess my current health state.

"Of course I'm okay, why wouldn't I be?" I questioned with my voice just a tad higher than normal.

She remained doubtful. "Well, you've just kind of holed yourself up here lately. You skipped dinner the past three nights in a row, and you haven't been paying attention to anyone or anything lately," Ginny frowned worriedly.

I shook my head to clear my thoughts. "I'm sorry, Gin. What'd you say, I wasn't listening?"

Ginny groaned. "That's exactly what I'm talking about! Hermione, what is wrong with you lately?"

I offered her a timid smile. "Just a little worn out, I guess. I have this, erm, paper due, and uh, I've writer's block."

Ginny, surprisingly, accepted this. Now Ginny, the youngest and only girl in the infamous Weasley clan, was nothing like her older brother Ron, who is at times, charmingly clueless. She had a quick mind, easily made connections, and thought along the same lines as I did. So, when Ginny then asked if my writer's block was for my next column, I wasn't too terribly surprised; but that doesn't mean I didn't try to play dumb.

"Come again?" I asked the red head that was still casually leaning back on my bed.

Ginny smiled sweetly. "I asked if your writer's block was for your column," she provided helpfully.

I looked up at her with calculating eyes and instantly knew that denial would be futile. "Yes," I mumbled in a barely audible whisper.

Ginny sat up in a flash. "I knew it! I knew it was you!" She fairly screamed.

"Gin, shut your mouth! I wrote under a different name for a reason, you know!" I groaned.

Ginny managed to contain her screaming, but still looked as if she were overflowing with excitement. "Hermione! Why didn't you tell me?"

I sighed. "First tell me how you found out," I countered.

She grinned. "Well, I just put two and two together. I knew Lady Rowena couldn't be a Slytherin, because they simply don't have any hearts," I smiled at that. "And I knew she couldn't be a Ravenclaw because her name, Lady Rowena, would be a dead give away; it was just too obvious. And then I ruled out Hufflepuff, because, although they are a loveable bunch, they simply lack the courage to write and print something that revealing and emotional. So that left Gryffindor.

"And I knew she had to be in sixth or seventh year, so I just went through a process of elimination. I knew it wasn't me for obvious reasons, and none of my classmates have the rather mature and intellectual mind that our Lady Rowena does. Now, that left Lavender or Parvati. It wasn't Lavender, since she and Ron are still together and it's no big secret that they absolutely adore each other. And then I ruled out Parvati for the simple reason that she wouldn't know true love even if it came up to her and bit her on her arse," Ginny stopped for a moment, gulping in some much needed air.

Silently I marveled at how she could speak so much in one little breath.

Ginny turned her amazed eyes to me, stating, "So that only left you. At first I thought I was crazy for even considering that you were Lady Rowena; but then the more I thought about it, the more it made sense. The way you always just kind of shrugged off her article as no big deal, the small little smile that you always wore when we girls would swoon over her writing; and then it just kind of... clicked."

See what I mean? Ginny was far smarter and more clever than what people gave her credit for.

"Hermione, why didn't you tell me you fell in love?" she asked accusingly.

I gulped and looked around guiltily. "It didn't seem pertinent?" I offered awkwardly.

Ginny's eyes flared. "Pertinent? It didn't seem pertinent?" she began incredulously. "Hermione, this is love we're talking about. Love, Hermione! L-O-V-E!" She had moved from the bed to lean over me, her voice slightly hysterical.

"I know how to spell, Gin," I remarked dryly.

Her eyes flashed dangerously. "Hermione, I'm being serious here! Why didn't you tell me?"

I sighed, avoiding eye contact. "Because I knew he'd never feel the same way," I whispered. "It seemed pointless to tell anyone if I knew things would never change."

"Then why are you now writing about it?" she countered, her voice hard, but still understanding.

I twisted my hands nervously as if my mum just caught me sneaking candy into our sugar-free house. "He's come back, Gin; that's why. He's back at Hogwarts."

Remember when I said Ginny was far smarter than what people gave her credit for?

"It's Oliver Wood, isn't it?" she asked quietly.

I nodded, not trusting my voice.

"Hermione," Ginny began, suddenly noticing how hard it really was for me. "Gods, Hermione, I'm so sorry. Can't you- I don't know, can't you just tell him how you feel?"

I gave a laugh. "I have a habit of running away when even a remotely right moment presents itself," I informed her wryly.

"You mean like what you wrote about in your article? How you ran away when he gave you that look?" she asked, probably already knowing the answer.

"Yes," I confirmed. "As well as that night three weeks ago when he had that same look in his eyes when we were talking," I decided to elaborate.

Ginny's eyes rounded dramatically. "You mean he had that very same look when you two were talking and you did nothing about it? Why ever the hell not, you twit?"

Suddenly my shoelaces seemed very interesting. "Because he was talking about someone else when he got that look," I mumbled.

Poor Gin looked as if I had slapped her across the face. "He, uh, he- what?"

"He was talking about someone else and he got 'The-Look' in his eye. He's falling for someone else," I simply explained, conveniently forgetting to mention that it was Lady Rowena we had been talking about.

Ginny looked like she was going to cry. "Oh, Herms, I'm so, so very sorry," she whispered, coming over to me and giving me a hug that cut-off my circulation.

"You shouldn't be, Gin. It's not your fault. I'm okay; I'm fine with it," I began in what I hopped was a nonchalant tone.

I was lying, of course. Both Gin and I knew it, but Gin, also unlike poor Ron, had the tact not to call me on it.

"Well," she began in that brisk 'no nonsense' tone she had adapted from her mother. "It's just his loss, then," she proclaimed.

I laughed. "Gin, you're the greatest," I stated, feeling slightly better.

She puffed out her chest. "Of course I am; soon everyone else will just have to realize it; it can't be denied forever," she airily announced. "I should be out then; good look with your article, Herms."

"Ginny!" I called out to her retreating back.

Gin turned to look at me, valiantly trying to hide her pity. "Yeah?" she asked, somewhat deflated on my behalf.

"You won't tell anyone, will you?" I nervously bit my lip.

She beamed. "Of course I won't, Hermione. I swear it," she pledged.

I sighed- my, I seem to have sighed a lot back then. "Thanks, Gin."

Another smile lit her face up as she said in all seriousness, "Anytime." She turned to go again, but stopped halfway across the room as if she had just remembered something.

"And Hermione," she began as she faced me. "Don't worry about it," she smiled slightly. "Love always conquers all."

And then my friend left me to my writing.

I sat there, behind my desk, for quite sometime thinking about what Ginny had said in parting. 'Love always conquers all.' God, I wished I would have believed her, but, being the stubborn Gryffindor that I am, I didn't.

I did, however, take her words to heart. I may not have thought them to be true in my particular case, but they did do something for me. They triggered my inspiration light bulb, and suddenly I just knew exactly what to write.

So I sat there the rest of that night, skipping dinner for the fourth time in a row, writing as if my very life depended on it.

And, in a way, it did.