I must become a lion hearted girl, ready for fight before I make the final sacrifice. Here I am, a rabbit hearted girl, frozen in the headlights. It seems I've made the final sacrifice.
Enjolras gazes back at his friend — if they are still friends, which Hermione does not seem to want to be anymore — with an expression of both disbelief and irritance; surely she couldn’t be that upset about it. It wasn’t as though he’d sabotaged her or anything similar, he had simply mentioned one or two things to someone in his House— nothing he had thought harmful. He’s a little offended she thinks he would mean to cause her harm (well, more than a little).
“You do when you’re acting like this.” Can she not see he’s sorry?
Honestly, the girl was trying her best not to cry in front of the boy - she knew that wouldn’t help at all, but sometimes her emotions definitely got the better of her. She ignored the urge to give in, frustrations running high. It was best to walk away. His words stung, whether he particularly meant them or not. The witch was having problems deciding which was true.
“I was merely mistaken regarding you. I should have known. I shouldn’t have hoped for what was nearly impossible.”
There was a reason why she had a hard time making friends - the high possibility of getting hurt played a big part behind her hesitance. She then closed her eyes and turned on her heel once more, her hand reaching up to wipe at her eyes as she began to move away from the Slytherin, finally unable to control the tears that came flooding down.
This comment riled Enjolras up as much as the girl evidently was; here was proof of why he disliked the Sorting system so! He may be a Slytherin, but the witch acted as though all of his House had no morals.
”I only said what was true— you act as though I’ve been making up lies about you!”
His blue eyes wide and angry, the blond stepped smartly away from where the girl stood.
“You’re overreacting now.”
Overreacting?
Oh, her feelings had only been hurt– but clearly it was not a big deal to him.
She shook her head at him in disbelief, completely bewilded by the way he was acting. She may not be an expert in friendships, but talking about those that were supposed to be your friends behind their backs was not in the handbook. Her arms folded over her chest as an attempt to show that she was guarded, though in actuality, it was too late to keep any threats out as she had already been hurt.
Hermione turned on her heel at the boy’s request, but did not walk away like she had wanted to.
Within a moment, she turned back around and took a step forward, hand reaching up and an accusing finger pointed at the male, brows scrunching together.
Another step and she was within touching distance. Her finger prodded his chest as she spoke, unable to keep her tongue.
“You have got to be kidding me. I thought we were friends, and yet you’ve been talking about me behind my back— and to other Slytherins, no less. There’s rumors around the school and my reputation is surely tarnished.”
“—I thought you were different from them, but apparently I was wrong.”
