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honeyedquiet · 4 years

Text

you have me

again, so incredibly bad at titles but hopefully i will get better

hermione x fem!reader

word count: 4.4k

warnings: overwhelming fluff, angst

The cold, damp, mid-January air blew into the open halls, feeling like a harsh slap on (Y/N)’s tear-streaked and blotchy cheeks as the Slytherin common room portrait swung open, granting her entrance into the long, twisting halls of Hogwarts School of Witchcraft and Wizardry. Frantic footfalls and harsh breathing echoed loudly throughout the dark halls of the school as she guided herself through them; she barely even gave thought to where she made a right or left as her mind raced over the crumpled piece of parchment in her fist. Although her eyes were glued to the stone walls before her, she could still see the posh, precise swirls and curls that were formed into letters and sentences that caused her to be in such a state.

She couldn’t say that the piece of parchment that brought her to such a frantic state was unexpected. She was born into a harsh legacy and as she grew older, she quickly came to realize that the legacy and morals she had begun to grow into were riddled with abhorring prejudice and vile hate that would make any decent wizard or witch’s stomach churn and clench with disgust. She knew that once she started rebelling even the slightest, her family would know and there would be repercussions for her actions. She knew that if she went far enough, rebelled extreme enough, her family would have to choose between their child sullying their “virtuous” and ever-so-sacred legacy or ridding themselves of the disgrace.

When she was confronted for her morals in the midst of her first year, she first tried to deny how disgusting they were.

(Y/N), Draco Malfoy, Blaise Zabini, and Pansy Parkison were all gathered underneath a thick oak tree near the Black Lake. Their books were open and parchment, ink, and quills were askew on the blanket, though the parchment was black, ink was full, and quills were void of ink. They were all encapsulated in conversation over what exactly they thought resided in the Black Lake when a group of three laid a blanket a few meters away and Draco and Pansy made a face as if they accidentally tasted their ink.

One of the two boys had black messy hair, while the other one had bright red hair. The third, a girl, had bushy brown hair and buck teeth. They were all dressed in robes with a lion patch on the breast, signifying that they were in Gryffindor. Before (Y/N)’s brain had a chance to think about who was setting up their study space next to them, Draco spoke up.

“Potter, Weasley,” He spit as he looked at the two boys and the face that Pansy and Draco made had finally made sense to (Y/N). Personally, she didn’t have an issue with Harry Potter, although her parents weren’t entirely fond of him for reasons unbeknownst to her. As for the Weasleys, she was taught they were blood traitors and that was bad. She didn’t know much about the girl, though.

“And the mudblood,” Draco continued as his eyes laid on the girl. The words that fell from Draco’s lips earned a laugh from Pansy, while Blaise and (Y/N) gaped in disbelief that the word fell so easily from Draco’s mouth. (Y/N) was taught what that word meant and, although her parents said it all the time, she had never. She knew it was a bad word and, although her family morals said it was a perfectly fine insult to call someone, she knew the power that word held. However, to blend in, she laughed and as did Blaise.

That interaction was one of many between her group and Harry’s and with each interaction they had, the more (Y/N) began to disagree with the insults that flew out of Draco’s and Pansy’s mouth. She never voiced her disagreement or told either of them to stop. She wanted to protect her family; to believe that her family was kind and good. She didn’t want to see just how hateful her parents could be. She knew the morals were strict, being as they were burned and scarred into her brain through painful lessons, but she never was confronted with the fact that they were hateful or discriminatory. Everyone else that she associated in her year in Slytherin had the same morals, so how can so many people be so wrong. Thinking back on it, she could see it was because their families all knew each other and misery loves company.

It was the summer between her first and second year where she began to ponder more on the idea that her morals were skewed. She began paying attention to what exactly her mother and father deemed acceptable, to how exactly they treated people of different statuses, and to whom their loyalties lay with. She noticed just how differently her family treated people, especially due to their blood status. It wasn’t just her family, though. The Malfoy’s, Parkison’s, Lestrange’s, all of them openly talked about their disgust towards other bloodlines and status.

When she went back to school in her second year, she began to speak out occasionally in her friend group about her disagreement with many of the morals they were all raised with. Pansy, Draco, and Blaise all thought that she was taking the Mickey with them; they thought that she surely must be joking, no one in their right mind would betray their bloodline by disagreeing with their beliefs. She wasn’t though, she was serious. None of them thought too much of their disagreement though in relation to it affecting their friendship; people live with different opinions all the time

The belief that they could coexist peacefully as friends with different morals carried them through their third year. However, in their fourth year, (Y/N) couldn’t stand sitting idly while Draco, Pansy, and the rest of the group spread such hate. During an argument between her’s and Harry’s group, she finally snapped.

“Why don’t you take your stupid little mudblood and blood traitor friends and take a dive off the astronomy tower? I’ve had enough of hearing them speak,” Draco spoke, earning a laugh from Crabbe and Goyle but a loud, disapproving scoff from (Y/N). She could see Hermione’s mouth open to say something but (Y/N) beat her to it.

“I’m so tired of you acting like this Draco,” (Y/N) stood in front of Draco, placing herself between the two groups. “I know your ickle mummy and daddy act like this but by now, I would’ve thought that you would see the error of their morals,” She continued. She could see Draco’s face set in anger, Pansy’s jaw agape, and Crabbe and Goyle’s face adorning the same stupid, void look. “You’re being disgusting and intransigent-- not to mention completely idiotic. You would think if Hermione was “stupid”, she wouldn’t have higher marks than you and you wouldn’t have that stupid look on your face everytime she puts her wand to your neck.” She heard Hermione laugh.

“Watch your tongue, (Y/N).” Pansy warned but all it earned was an eye roll from (Y/N). “What’re you going to do?” She challenged with an eyebrow raised in feigned curiosity. She didn’t really care what Pansy was going to do, she knew after this that they wouldn’t be friends so who cared what Pansy did.

This time, Draco spoke up again. “You’re going to regret this,” He grumbled angrily. “I’ll be writing to my father about this,” He threatened. A chill ran down (Y/N)’s spine, knowing that his father would tell hers. If she was lucky, she may get away with just a howler announcing her disgrace and disobedience. However upsetting the consequences, (Y/N) knew she couldn’t back down now. “I’ll make sure your father hears how much of a little prick you are then, too.” (Y/N) replied, making Draco scoff and turn on his heel as he stalked away with the rest of the group, leaving (Y/N) alone with Harry, Ron, and Hermione.

Draco kept true to his word and sent his father an owl detailing everything from (Y/N) talking to half-bloods, negatively talking about her family, speaking out against their beliefs, dennouncing her belief in the Death Eaters and their cause, and the incident earlier that day. Not even fourty eight hours later, she recieved a howler in the Great Hall at breakfast. It contained everything she expected. It detailed just how much of a disgrace she was to the family name and how wrong her actions were. It also threatened that if she did not shape up, the next owl she would get would contain a letter stating she would be disowned.

At the time, (Y/N) often debated on whether or not she should’ve kept her mouth shut and stayed quiet but now, she knew it was the best thing for her to have done. Although Ron didn’t trust her at all, Hermione slowly started to become friends with (Y/N). It was a slow, time consuming process, which was well warranted considering her past friends. She was thankful that Hermione could see how much she had changed. Throughout the year, the four of them became closer, hanging out more and more as the weeks drew on. She began going to hogsmeade with them and sitting with Ron and Hermione when the TriWizard competitions were happening. She loved finally feeling a part of the group, despite Ron’s occasional remarks about how nasty Slytherins are, which, again, with his past experiences, were well waranted, yet not all true.

Over the summer between fourth and fifth year, (Y/N) was kicked out of her house. She wasn’t disowned by any means but, after disparaging her parents at a Death Eater meeting disguised as a dinner, they said they could not stand to have a blood traitor in their house and so they kicked her out. She was surprised that, when she told Hermione about her situation, she immediately wanted to help. (Y/N) had gotten a room at the Leaky Cauldron and the day after, she was met with a knock on her room door. The knock was no one other than bushy-haired, know-it-all that she had sent a letter to a few days prior. Ron and Harry had already been at the lodge when she got there, unbeknowest to her, so the remaining days until school started, they all hung out. Over those days, her and Hermione got closer and by the beginning of year five, they were practically inseparable now, meaning she could also be found around Harry and Ron as well. She liked Harry and Ron alright, she just felt something different for Hermione but she couldn’t put her finger on it just yet. She knew it wasn't merely a feeling of friendship so she decided to not mention it, being as she assumed Hermione didn’t feel the same way.

So, she kept quiet again and as the fifth year went on, her feelings developed into something so complex and confusing that she couldn’t think about it for too long without being overwhelmed. She was sure, though, she kept herself together and normal-- that was until holiday break. Hermione, (Y/N), Ron, and Harry all stayed at the school while the others went back to their homes. (Y/N) was thankful that they had stayed, mostly because she didn’t want to stay alone. She still was kicked out and unwelcome at her home so she was forced to stay.

Harry and Ron were outside so Ron could practice his position as keeper while (Y/N) and Hermione were in the library, studying and reading, although (Y/N) couldn’t focus. She never could around Hermione anymore.

(Y/N) looked at Hermione over the thick edge of her book before looking back down to the brittle pages, having caught Hermione’s eye as well. Her cheeks went pink, realizing that it was the fourth time Hermione had caught her staring. She took solace, though, in the fact that Hermione’s cheek adorned the same tint of light pink as hers.

“What?” Hermione asked in a whisper. Her tone was a mixture of annoyance and amusement. She had been scanning the dusty book for a piece of information that (Y/N) had long forgotten about. “Is there something on my face?” She asked, her hand coming up to wipe at her cheeks. (Y/N) shook her head with a quieted laugh. “I was about to ask you the same thing, Granger,” She teased, trying to play off her panic. “Every time I looked up from my book, I caught you staring.”

Hermione’s cheeks tinged a deeper red. “Every time that I looked up, you were staring as well.” She pointed out, earning an eye roll and a huff from (Y/N). “So what is it?” Hermione asked after a brief moment of expectant stares. “You’ve been acting weird these last few weeks too. I mean, I know we’re all stressed but is there anything else?” This question struck a new chord of panic inside of (Y/N) as she shook her head a bit too quickly. “No, really, nothing is up.” (Y/N) said, although the slight waver in her tone did everything but convince the girl in front of her that she was telling the truth.

“(Y/N)....” Hermione started, a teasing smile on her face. It was odd to see her so carefree and talkative in the library. “Come on, tell me,” She pressed and (Y/N) shook her head, meaning to convey that she had nothing to tell but Hermione took it as the secret wouldn’t be told. However, she dropped it; not for long though. Over the next few weeks, ( lY/N)’s feelings did everything but go away-- in fact, she could almost have swore they grew exponentially. She couldn’t focus when sitting next to Hermione, couldn’t take notes, couldn’t answer questions. Even Professor Snape caught wind of this and moved her away in potions class. That week, (Y/N) distanced herself. She had to get a hold of her feelings before things went awry and she ruined the only friendships she had left. Hermione, as smart as she is, noticed her distancing, of course. Instead of leaving it be, Hermione decided she had enough of it and cornered (Y/N), quite literally, on her way back into the Slytherin common room.

“What is going on?” Hermione asked. Her face was inches away from (Y/N)’s. (Y/N)’s back was pressed against the cold cobblestone and when her eyes met Hermione’s, she was thankful for being cornered against the wall because her knees felt like the pudding that was served last night for dessert. “Noth--” (Y/N) was cut off. “Don’t give me that! You can’t just be my friend and then pull away like this,” Hermione interrupted. (Y/N) could tell that Hermione was upset by the slight tremble in her voice and she felt her heart sink into her stomach. She didn’t expect Hermione to even notice that she was pulling away.

“Hermione, please, just let it--” “No! I’m not going to let it go! You’ve been acting weird lately, and now you’re pulling away. What is going on?” Hermione said, her voice stern and she sounded stressed. “It’s not a big deal, I haven’t been acting weird. I don’t understand why you’re thinking that I am but i’m not.” (Y/N) was panicking now. If she told Hermione how she felt, she’d be putting herself in a vulnerable position of both ridiculing herself and losing her only friends. “Well you better come up with something to tell me because i’m not leaving or letting you leave until you tell me a damn good reason why you’re acting like this,” Hermione glared at (Y/N), testing her to lie again or come up with a bad excuse. (Y/N) knew that Hermione would hold her word and not let her go, but that doesn’t mean that she would just give in.

“I haven’t been acting--” “Yes you have!” “No, I haven’t. I think you’re being delusional.” Hermione scoffed. “Delusional? You’re being delusional if you can’t tell that you haven’t even sat next to me in Charms in a week and a half,” The words caused (Y/N) to flush and her heart to beat faster. She didn’t realize that Hermione noticed her actions that much. “or went to the library with me in two weeks! You didn’t go to hogsmeade when I asked you to come with me when Harry and Ron didn’t want to go,” Hermione continued but (Y/N) wasn’t focusing now. She could hear the rushing of blood in her ears and her heart pounding in the pit of her stomach. “You won’t wait for me to walk with you to Herbology, you--” Hermione didn’t get to finish her rant because (Y/N) grabbed her face in both hands and pressed her lips onto Hermione’s.

The kiss was haste and anxious. (Y/N)’s eyes were screwed closed tightly and she was sure her hands were clammy from how nervous she was. She pulled away almost as quickly as she kissed the brunette and she looked at Hermione nervously. Tears were in (Y/N)’s eyes as she evaluated the expression on Hermione’s face. She had ruined everything. Hermione was going to run away and called her disgusting, Y/N thought, or tell Harry and Ron that they were right about Slytherins; that they were all just as terrible as Draco and Pansy. “Oh, Gods, I’m so sor--” It was (Y/N)’s turn to be interrupted as Hermione’s lips made contact with hers again.

(Y/N) realized very quickly that her silent longing and painful yearning had been similarly experienced by Hermione as well. They both hid their feelings, deeply believing that there was no way that the other would like them, that they would just have to bury their feelings until they had gone away. They both learned a lesson that night: bottled feelings always reammerge with a vengeance. That night, (Y/N) slept the best that she had in ages while being as she didn’t have her brain pegging her with anxious thoughts and fears of losing her best friend.

From that night on, (Y/N) and Hermione stole kisses in secret, held hands under tables, and stole glances over the tops of textbooks. Harry and Ron caught on after only two days, and once questioning and confronting the girls, accepted and supported what they had. Ron liked to say that he called it when (Y/N) stood up for Hermione all the way back at the beginning of fourth year and (Y/N) didn’t deny that he was right.

After a few more months, the school began to catch on. Most of the students figured (Y/N) and Hermione were just very close best friends and didn’t think of it any further. (Y/N) and Hermione enjoyed the privacy for a while but (Y/N) knew it was too god to last for so long.

The old classroom they were in opened, revealing (Y/N), whom was sat on one of the desks, and Hermione, whom was stood between (Y/N)’s legs, kissing. Pansy let out a soft gasp at the sight in front of her before giving an all-too-excited giggle and she ran off.

Soon, the whole school knew, which didn’t bother Hermione. (Y/N), however, knew what devastation would come in the wake of people finding out the moment Pansy squealed and ran away. Her fears were right when she received an owl a week later.

(Y/N) was sat in her dorm, working next to her candle as she finished up the last few inches of her Charms essay when she heard a soft coo come from her window. She looked behind herself curiously to see her family owl perched upon the windowsill. She retrieved the owl and gave it water before looking down at the leg, fearing what would be there. A formal letter was attached, detailing every wrong-doing (Y/N) committed in regards to defiling their family’s legacy and rebellion against their harshly-instilled, hateful morals. At the end of the letter was a paragraph that shook (Y/N) to her core.

“You are no longer a member of the family tree. Your portrait has since been burned and, in turn, have been written out of the family will. Attached is a picture. Send the owl back with your ring.”

(Y/N) tore the ring off of her finger, throwing it across the empty dorm as tears built up in her eyes, quickly spilling over her cheeks. She didn’t know exactly why her getting disowned effected her like this; she would’ve liked to think that she would laugh and just throw the letter away with ease but, deep down, she thought that her parents still loved her and thought of her as their daughter, no matter how difficult. Knowing that they no longer wanted anything to do with her anymore sent her into a frenzy of anxiety and panic. She crumbled the note in her hands and, not knowing where else to go, she burst out of the dorm and beelined through the common room to the portrait.

(Y/N) looked up from the stone floor finally, her breaths coming out in heavy, short pants and tears still spilling over her cheeks. She looked at the Fat Lady portrait in front of her, her mind wracking itself for the password. Hermione had told her, just in case she needed to get to her and now that she needed to use it, she hoped she could remember it. Finally, the word fell on her tongue and she spoke.

“Butterbeer,” Her voice croaked and the Fat Lady swung open without even opening her eyes.

(Y/N) navigated her way through the Gryffindor common room, having only been there once. Her presence earned surprise gasps and whispers from the Gryffindors seated in the area but no one said anything, all sensing that (Y/N) was not in the mood to be messed with. She quickly spotted the back of Hermione’s head through her teary eyes and quickly made her way over. Hermione stood, turning to tell the closest whispering gryffindors to either comply with the study zone times or go to their dorms but her goals changed immediately when she was met with her crying girlfriend.

Quickly, Hermione ushered (Y/N) into the girl’s dormitory and asked Lavender Brown to leave for just a few moments before shutting and locking the door behind them.

Hermione looked at (Y/N) again and frowned. (Y/N)’s chest was puffed slightly as she tried to hold in the ragged breaths and harsh sobs that were begging to pass her lips, her face red and puffy, her eyes were red as tears steadily flowed from them, and her tears were streaked. “Oh, honey.” Hermione spoke and (Y/N)’s composure cracked. A broken sob left (Y/N)’s lips as she melted into Hermione’s arms, her face buried in the girl’s neck.

Hermione sat them on the bed and held (Y/N) close, laying them down as she let her cry and sob as she stroked her back. Her fingers drifted through (Y/N)’s tangled hair before her hands finally went down to the crumpled parchment in (Y/N)’s hands. Slowly taking it from her, she set it on the nightstand, not reading it. She knew what this was about already, she could see it on (Y/N)’s face when she walked in.

(Y/N) held onto Hermione tightly until her tears ran dry and her sobs ceased, leaving her with ragged breaths and raw cheeks. She then laid her head on Hermione’s chest, her arms around the girl’s waist tightly and their legs intertwined with each other. (Y/N) was the first to break the silence after Hermione pressed a kiss gingerly to (Y/N)’s forehead comfortingly.

“I don’t have a family now,” (Y/N)’s words came out in a soft whisper; it was all she could manage. “They disowned me. I don’t have a home. I don’t have anything,” Hermione looked down at her before sitting up, her action making (Y/N) place her head on a pillow instead of Hermione’s chest.

Hermione’s cold hands cupped (Y/N)’s cheeks, the pads of her thumbs gently sweeping the tops of them, wiping the remnants of the tears before shaking her head. “My love,” She started, her voice soft and gentle, “you do have family,” (Y/N) tilted her head slightly in confusion. “You have Harry and Ron,” Hermione continued, “You know Ron’s family loves you. His mom constantly asks about you.” This earned a quiet laugh from (Y/N). “And you have me,” She finished and new tears filled (Y/N)’s eyes. She pressed a light kiss to (Y/N)’s lips and looked down at the girl after pulling away, still cupping her cheeks. “I’ll be your home until we can make one together,” Hermione promised, pressing a light kiss to (Y/N)’s forehead again before laying back down.

(Y/N) moved her head back onto Hermione’s chest, her tired eyes closing and breath slowly stabilizing as Hermione’s fingers continued to move through her hair. She had never thought about someone, not something, being her home. The concept felt new and foreign to her, but never-the-less, it brought her peace. The thought of Hermione being her home brought warmth washing over her that soothed the chill that resided in her spine and eased her racing mind. So, that night, she fell asleep in the Gryffindor girl’s dormitory, fully clothed with shoes on and yet, she had never been more at peace because she was wrapped in the arms of the girl that she loved so dearly, knowing that she had found what she previously thought she had lost and yet worked so hard to get.

#hermione granger #wlw #hermione granger imagine #hermione imagine #wlwimagine #wlw hermione #harry potter #hp

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