Hermione's Last Testament

Depth. Intelligence. Wisdom. Does any of it really matter? People don't see me. People see my bushy hair behind my books. They see my hand raise high in the air when the teachers ask a question. But do they see me? All they know of me are my grades. They only notice me when they need help with their Astronomy homework. But what do they know of me? They think that all I am is a big brain and frizzy hair. I may not know much about anyone, not much about me, either, but I know that I go deeper than that. Maybe I'm a ditz sometimes. Maybe while I'm sitting alone in the common room, hidden behind thick Transfiguration volumes and numerous Arithmancy texts, I'm secretly admiring Parvati Patail's new shade of pink nail polish. Or perhaps checking out that cute seventh year boy by the fire. They think they know me, but they don't. I not really sure if I even know me. I've tried to keep a diary, but I found it quite ludicrous to be talking to a book. I've tried praying, but I've never really been much for religion. My parents told me to follow my heart with that one and it lead me to the path of tangible fact. My parents are another factor in my life, and they're one category all together. I don't resent them for being muggles, as many people do. On the contrary, I think they spared me of being raised in such a dangerous and unpredictable world. A world ridden with prejudice that is more sinister than that of the muggle world. In the muggle world you know you won't be awoken by Death Eaters have to watch while your family is tortured. You know that you won't have to get sorted into a specific Hogwarts house, or suffer your family's displeasure. They spared me that, by being muggles, and I am grateful to them for that. Some people might penalize me for my lineage, but I keep my head up and my mind above it all. I've found that it helps a lot. I've been through a lot of things with my friends, and rubbed elbows with death more times than I would have liked. Such as in first year, I was nearly strangled by a plant, poisoned by a potion, and killed by a stone chess piece. Second year, I was nearly killed by looking a giant serpentine monster in the eye. Third year, I was almost eaten by a werewolf, and nearly had my soul sucked out by a Dementor. In fifth year, I came closer to death than I ever would have wanted to, and I do not wish to relive it. But if being knocked out by a Death Eater and almost trapped in a series of rooms is any hint, I'll leave you with that. Yes, I've been through a lot of things with my best friends, Harry and Ron, and surprisingly, that's all we are. Contrary to the beliefs of many of the Witch Weekly readers, Harry and I have never been romantically involved. Actually, I've never been romantically involved with anyone, let alone Harry, or Viktor Krum. Sometimes I used to wonder why not, but then I'd bury myself in books and not trouble myself with it. After years of ignoring it, I finally figured it out. I've never been attracted to any boys, because I don't get attracted to them. I made this discovery in sixth year, and I haven't told my parents. I thought they'd be so disappointed! Not to say that they're that shallow, but just imagine the blow to them. I couldn't bear to do that, so I kept my relationship with Ginny a secret. Eventually, Ron and Harry found out and they were...surprised, to say the least. In time, they accepted me for what I am, and Ron came to accept Ginny for what she was. Of course, the entire school found out, and they too, came to accept it. We lived in such peace for so long, until the worst day of my life. I was studying in the library with Ginny, and suddenly she slammed her book closed and looked at me with the most pained expression. She said she had to tell me something. She'd changed her mind about me, about us...about everything. Her and Michael Corner were going to get married. She told me how sorry she was, she said that she'd always love me as a very dear friend. It cut me deeper than the knife I hold in my hand. She pressed her lips to mine for a moment, and pulled away, tucking a strand of her beautiful red hair behind her ear. With a sad smile, she left the library and me, with it. I've been hurt ever since. During the day, I'm bookish, introverted Hermione. At night, I'm yet another tortured soul. Her face haunts my dreams, and the memories of blissful love that we shared torment my aching heart. The worst pain of all, worse than knowing the one I loved would never love me back, came a year ago today. Ginny, after being diagnosed with breast cancer, died. So now, I will make people notice me for me. I will show everyone who only saw me as a know-it-all, who I really am. I will be with my love at last, our souls united as one in the world beyond. They will remember Hermione Granger, and they will feel my pain.

Hermione Anne Granger,

My last testament.