Goodbye. new one-shot by yours truly <3
Hello friends! Self-endorsing my newest snippet. A one-shot that I spent this weekend thinking up and creating while listening to Say Something by A Great Big World on repeat.
I would feel honored if you would give it a chance. It's really just a goodbye with a tiny sprinkle of HEA at the end NOT with Ron. :)
https://archiveofourown.org/works/25681114
https://www.fanfiction.net/s/13661345/1/
So far my trend has been 1st POV and this time it was still Hermione’s POV but it was in 3rd person instead. It is a sad little story but I gave her a well deserved SLYTHERIN ending :D
Spoiler snippet:
Hearing his uneven footsteps enter the bedroom, she quickly moves to splash water on her face. She swallows down her sob, holding cold water over her eyes, concealing any evidence of her drowning thoughts.
Hermione holds her breath as he enters the bathroom, praying for a light tap to her arse, a joke about her help in the shower, or a quip about how overdressed she is. Instead, he drops his shirt and trousers on the floor, quickly turning on the water before stepping in and tossing his pants over the curtain.
Covering her trembling lips with her hand, she stumbles to their closet. How long had Ron avoided her touch? She stands there, staring at his things for a moment before glancing back at hers.
With a wave of her wand, she charms her clothes to pack themselves. Watching her knickers follow the conga line to her bag, she remembers the only wandless charm Ron excelled at was lingerie specific ‘ evanesco .’ She got so tired of losing, and then replacing her lingerie sets herself, she created a ward to redirect all vanished items to her cheekily named vanishing cupboard down the hall.
It’s the shock of blood on her tongue that jolts her back into the present, releasing her lip from its biting hold and wiping her hands down her face as she sees how empty the closet looks now.
With a final spell to shrink her bag, she stumbles to an empty shelf, leaving it there as she buckles under the weight of his deceit. Knees hit the floor, she falls, catching herself on her hands as Hermione sobs into her elbow, body shaking with remorse.
Knowing Ron keeps his pants in the wardrobe rather than the closet, she stays like this, collecting herself and waiting for the tell-tale creaking of the bed frame as he flops down.
Summoning the last remnants of the Hufflepuff loyalty she has for this man, Hermione stands back up. She strips her shirt off, leaving on a black lacy brassiere, her form-hugging leggings, and gathering her hair in a messy bun held tightly by her wand. She exits the closet, shrouding herself in Gryffindor courage with the added sway to her hips.