Fragile

She shines...

In a world full of ugliness.

My feet pound against the ground...against the path that I've worn through the edge of the trees..where everyone stays away...where nobody follows me. Through the forest beside the Quidditch Pitch...where it's dark and gloomy in the early morning.

I get away here...this is my sanctuary, this is my relief. Away from my brothers...from Harry...from classes and books and old, painful memories. I like to run...in the mornings mostly, when it's gray and cold and I can watch my breath fog. I'm all alone out here, and I feel at home...in that loneliness...in the solitude of this place...it makes that hollow place inside of me feel numb and painless, like it's not as painful as I make it out to be. But it is painful...when I go back inside, when I climb those long, dreary stairs and crawl into the Common Room where she...she....

She matters...when everything is meaningless.

"Morning, Ginny," Hermione greets me cheerfully, curled by the fire with a book cradled in her lap. I watch her with quiet eyes and smile. She never asks me where I've been...sometimes I wish she would...so maybe...maybe she could....

No...she probably doesn't even like running, not like I do...my calves ache, and I know the rest of the day will be a struggle. But isn't...outer pain better...better to cope with, than inner pain?

I sit down in a chair nearby and I don't bother taking my eyes off her. She's not paying attention...back to reading. I notice dark circles under her eyes...her hair is tousled. She looks wonderful like that...framed against the hot fire, imperfect and raw and beautiful. Hardly anyone sees her like this, I think. She yawns.

"D'you stay up all night again?" I ask routinely. "You look awful," I lie. She turns and graces me with a chipper smile.

"Well...it's Saturday, after all," she answers. "And this book is so...amazing. Who cares about looks, anyway?" Her voice cracks. She covers it up with a yawn.

Fragile...she doesn't see her beauty...she tries to get away.

I stifle a sigh, like I do every morning when my heart sinks back to that painful, dull place it seems to always be in. Back to reading again. I wish I could read as fervently as she does...maybe then I'd have some sort of...distraction. But she has other distractions. Harry for one...I know he pines after her. I see it in his face...he's not good at hiding things. She pretends not to notice, and I wonder why a lot...most girls would do back flips through a burning hoop to catch his eye in That Way. She seems to be discontent and edgy about it. Poor Harry...he could have the most wonderful girl in the world, if only she'd pay attention to him. And poor Ginny...poor, poor Ginny, because all she can do is dream, and wish, and kill herself over the longing. Wishes never got anybody anywhere. I hate myself for loving her.

"Well, I should go return this book..." she murmurs, more to herself than to me. She stands up and walks towards the portrait hole looking un-balanced. I start to wonder if it's reading that's keeping her up every night...though she has been digging into a real slew of books lately. I know, I keep track.

Sometimes it's just that nothing seems worth saving...I can't watch her slip away..

It's been an hour already. I've gotten dressed and combed my hair. The boys are still sleeping...almost everyone is. It's Saturday. I wonder if she's fallen asleep in the library. With a sigh, I stir myself from the dying fireside where She sat, and make my way slowly down to the Library. I pause at the door. It's so quiet this early in the morning...it feels like the whole of Hogwarts is asleep. I open the door and slip in. Even with the faint morning light, the library is dark. There's a book open on the table...and a single chair pushed away from it. She must have gone to look for something. I step quietly towards the rows of books and pause at a muffled, nearly inaudible sound.

I wont let you fall apart

I've had my arm around her shoulders for a while now...she's still shuddering with dry sobs. It breaks my heart to see her like this...she's always so...beautiful. So confident and sure and graceful. I keep thinking over and over how I want to hurt the person who did this to her...who made her cry like this. I found her with books strewn about her carelessly, open and stained with tears. She has her knees up against her chest, but she stopped rocking when she felt my arms around her. She didn't look at me...just turned and buried her face in my sweater and cried...and cried...and cried.

I couldn't say anything...what could I say? What could I do...

"Ginny..." comes a muffled, scratchy voice from the hem of my sweater. My embrace tightens.

"Are you alright...?"

"No..." she whimpers, and starts shaking. I'm afraid she'll start crying again. My heart breaks a thousand times over hearing her voice...so weak, so helpless and sad and without any shred of the Hermione I knew. I'm silent for a long moment. My knees hurt from the cold stone of the floor. I feel like crying.

"I hate myself..." she sobs into my chest. Her fingers grope and curl around the fabric of my sweater. I'm so shocked I don't know what to do...I try not to shake...I try not to cry...

"Why...?"

"They're all...they're all so much better than me..." she says softly, bitterness laced in every word. My head spins with confusion...I feel like this isn't real...it can't be real...this isn't my beautiful, brave, wonderful Hermione.

"...who..?"

"The books...all of them. Better than me...smarter than me. I'm just a ...a...a parrot," her voice is angry and painful. I hold her...I want to make this stop...I want to help her, I want to go back to Gryffindor Tower and watch her read and smile at me...I...I want...

I want....

We'll find the perfect place to go where we can run and hide...

There was another long silence, and she started crying again...shaking, clutching, sobbing, shaking her head like life was hopeless and dreadful. I start crying to...silently. Hot tears slide down my cheeks. My head pounds with pain and confusion.

"All of them..." she says again, her tone bordering madness. I'm confounded and confused. How do I help her? How do I help her...? My hands are numb from the cold air in the library, and the front of my sweater is soaked in her tears. Every part of me is miserable.

"I'll never...be that good..." she chokes through each word, and breaks into another fit of sobs. All I can do is hold her...my tears dampen her hair.

"How...do you know that?" I ask suddenly. I'm startled by the sound of my own voice. I feel like someone else said it, and I try to echo the words in my mind, wondering if they are truly mine. I'm so confused...I'm so confused. A long pause. Her sobs quiet, but she still clutches to me like a lost and desperate baby animal, shaking.

"I..." she hesitates, and I know she's searching for a good reason to back it up. "I....well....just...just look at me Ginny....I'm...pathetic. I'm ashamed...I'm an embarrassment. I should die." she croaks, and presses against me desperately. Her knees are pressed against my ribcage painfully, but I don't care. My tears keep falling, and with a shaking hand, I reach under that mess of tangled brown hair and cup my fingers under her wet chin. She looks up at me as I lift her face to level with my own. Her eyes are red and swollen, and her lips are set in a miserable frown.

"If you could see yourself the way other people see you, Hermione Granger...you'd...gods, you'd fall in love with yourself. You're everything but pathetic. You parents love you...good gods Hermione, Harry Potter loves you. I know you know, don't bother arguing. You're...you're beautiful. Everyone looks up to you...everyone adores Hermione Granger. Maybe some people scoff...at your books and your studying and your devotion and passion...but I know they must admire you too." I sigh a long, drawn out sigh and I feel like everything inside me is crumbling just looking at her face...her eyes..."Everyone wants to be like you Hermione, and nobody is brave enough but you. Nobody is brave enough to walk so boldly, or to talk about things nobody else understands with such excitement...such passion. Nobody else has such a bright future as you...you're going to be a big name everywhere in our world someday, Granger. And not a big name like Lucius...you'll never be like that...you'll be a big name like...Dumbledore. Everyone and their children will talk about how successful and wonderful you are. Ten years from now, Hogwarts students will have nothing but your books on their supply list for school, and you'll make your parents so proud...you'll make everyone proud, and me and Ron and Fred and George and Harry will all talk about how we used to know you and get laughed at." I just...can't stop talking. Looking into her eyes makes my soul shatter and repair itself over and over. I want to tell her how wonderful everyone thinks she is...I want to tell her about how much I love her, about how much I think about her...about how much I admire her. How everyone admires her, and she deserves it all. I talk rapidly about how she's always such a good friend and getting Harry and Ron out of trouble, and how they would be so lost without her (I dare not say how I would be) and how they smile every time she walks into a room. It's all those simple little things that add up to something Big...something worth feeling good over. I feel dead inside, but I keep talking.

Finally, she puts a finger to my lips to silence me...the perplex, confused look melts away from her features, and she looks tired and drained. But she smiles...and that smile kills me and makes me feel so alive at the same time. It sends little shocks through me and my brain jerks. I made that smile.

"Thank you," her voice cracks...barely even above a whisper. She finally withdrawals from my embrace, and leans back against the bookshelf, looking at me. But I know she's looking right through me...her eyes are just pointed my way.

We stay like that for a while...I'm still bent on my knees, palms resting against the cold ground, staring at my white knuckles. After a long time, I hear her move. I feel her arms around me in a friendly, warm hug. She kisses the top of my head, and I listen as her footsteps fade away.

I'm left sitting on that cold, unyielding stone floor. I figure the rest of Hogwarts must be waking up by now. My senses feel muddled. But it slowly dawns on me that I feel..

good.

I'll build a wall and we can keep them on the other side...

I shift my weight, and roll onto my back, folding my arms behind my head and staring at the ceiling above my dorm bed. It's after lunch now, and I'm still expecting that empty feeling to return. But it doesn't...it wont. When I came back from the Library, I climbed the stairs up to my room and paused at the door. Down in the Common Room, Hermione, Harry and Ron were sharing a breakfast Ron snagged from the Great Hall, laughing and joking with each other. She looked happy. Her legs were curled up underneath her, and the renewed fire cast a glow on her that made her look like she wasn't real. Her fingers were laced in Harry's, and Ron kept looking at them and grinning like a proud father.

I smiled too...