Harry Potter and the Truth of the World
folder
Harry Potter › Het - Male/Female › Snape/Hermione
Rating:
Adult +
Chapters:
1
Views:
968
Reviews:
2
Recommended:
0
Currently Reading:
0
Category:
Harry Potter › Het - Male/Female › Snape/Hermione
Rating:
Adult +
Chapters:
1
Views:
968
Reviews:
2
Recommended:
0
Currently Reading:
0
Disclaimer:
I do not own Harry Potter, nor any of the characters from the books or movies. I do not make any money from the writing of this story.
Excerpt from the Smart Girl's Diary
Have you ever wanted to write a love story? To pen a tale so tragically beautiful that it could make even the coldest heart weep happy tears? No? Well, neither did I. I didn’t want to write the bloody love story; I wanted to be in it. I wanted to be the brave, disgustingly beautiful heroine who had her bodice ripped off every few pages and ended the book on a happy and satisfying note.
Unfortunately, such a fate did not seem to be in my genetics. My hair was no ‘tumbling mass of silken locks’, no ‘fair, enchanting river of indescribable beauty’. It was wild, untamable, often frightening. Even with a liberal dousing of the strongest product of the market, I could, at best, gain an hour’s worth of follicle desirability.
Nor was my body a ‘wildly curvaceous landscape of femininity’. I had angles and junctures and all the proper anatomical pieces, but nothing that came together to sprawl across the centerfold of any publication. No push-up bra or scheme could boost my morale into a higher place.
I will admit though that my face is of a different story. No misshapen blob sits above my deceptively frail-looking neck; I am blessed with lips and eyelashes and—through some miracle—good skin. But no one ever goes on for pages and pages about how smooth and unblemished the heroine’s cheeks are. That’s just a one-liner before the writers get into their dirty fantasies.
So I’d given up on the dream of being a lust-worthy beauty and instead threw myself into my studies even harder than before. The need for perfection had become absolute; even as my hormones and I raged, perfection was the end of the equation. Had it not been for the handful of friends who could put up with that need to know it all, I might have gone around the bend or given up on enjoying life completely.
***
That was before, and perhaps a little bit into, my 6th year here at school. Things changed so rapidly as the world I—we all knew turned head-over-heels. The violence shouldn’t have been able to reach us behind these thick, enchanted walls. It shouldn’t have wrapped around us like an unwelcome chill in the middle of the night. But it did, and we wept for our lost innocence—some of us more privately than others.
Nevertheless, that is where we are right now. We’ll go our separate ways for now, and perhaps we shall all be together once again behind warm stone walls and moth-eaten tapestries…but for now, we go our separate ways.
And the only thing that I can do…
The only thing I could ever do…
Is worry...
***
Hermione J. Granger
(AN: JK Rowling owns the Harry Potter copyrights, not me. I only own the original ideas I'll be using)
Unfortunately, such a fate did not seem to be in my genetics. My hair was no ‘tumbling mass of silken locks’, no ‘fair, enchanting river of indescribable beauty’. It was wild, untamable, often frightening. Even with a liberal dousing of the strongest product of the market, I could, at best, gain an hour’s worth of follicle desirability.
Nor was my body a ‘wildly curvaceous landscape of femininity’. I had angles and junctures and all the proper anatomical pieces, but nothing that came together to sprawl across the centerfold of any publication. No push-up bra or scheme could boost my morale into a higher place.
I will admit though that my face is of a different story. No misshapen blob sits above my deceptively frail-looking neck; I am blessed with lips and eyelashes and—through some miracle—good skin. But no one ever goes on for pages and pages about how smooth and unblemished the heroine’s cheeks are. That’s just a one-liner before the writers get into their dirty fantasies.
So I’d given up on the dream of being a lust-worthy beauty and instead threw myself into my studies even harder than before. The need for perfection had become absolute; even as my hormones and I raged, perfection was the end of the equation. Had it not been for the handful of friends who could put up with that need to know it all, I might have gone around the bend or given up on enjoying life completely.
***
That was before, and perhaps a little bit into, my 6th year here at school. Things changed so rapidly as the world I—we all knew turned head-over-heels. The violence shouldn’t have been able to reach us behind these thick, enchanted walls. It shouldn’t have wrapped around us like an unwelcome chill in the middle of the night. But it did, and we wept for our lost innocence—some of us more privately than others.
Nevertheless, that is where we are right now. We’ll go our separate ways for now, and perhaps we shall all be together once again behind warm stone walls and moth-eaten tapestries…but for now, we go our separate ways.
And the only thing that I can do…
The only thing I could ever do…
Is worry...
***
Hermione J. Granger
(AN: JK Rowling owns the Harry Potter copyrights, not me. I only own the original ideas I'll be using)