Vanilla

The scent of vanilla follows in her wake. Subtle and delicate, yet always so tantalising and teasing; she seems oblivious to the effect it has on class mates and friends alike.

Perhaps she's so used to their pointed stares and their only half- hushed attempts at whispering. Echoes of 'Which one do you think she'll wind up with?' pursue her like shadows, but she ignores them, coffee coloured eyes intent on learning lines and reading rows.

Books are her solace and she doesn't believe in love. She said as much to the red- haired hero who seemed obsessed with getting her to be his.

"You can't have me," stung like a thousand bees, but he never gave up once.

She's ungraceful and snobby, with a flair for magic and a love of knowledge ("such a know-it-all, that Hermione Granger!"). She delights in correcting peoples' wrongs and smiling to show her mercy, for what could be nicer than tender, loving smiles to appease the steady thumps of their hearts?

She mightn't be the prettiest nor the richest, but she believes in what her books and her grade card tell her and that's all she needs to know.

"You're so patient," Ginny sighed, one night, once upon a time. "And so understanding. How you put up with them I don't know." And Hermione joined her in sighing, because she hadn't really noticed how tall the boys had grown and she hated how she'd missed it.

The unattainable; she strives for things just beyond her reach, but she won't give up once. And envious girls stand and ponder, marvelling at her strength of character and jealous of what she stands for.

And suddenly it doesn't matter that she mightn't be the most popular, because she's everything they want to be and they just. can't. stand it.