[ She can't comment on the reality of his goodness, not really. For all that she's seen of him he's swung between marks of A and B, leaving her a little confused and out of sorts when she tries to think about the way she feels about him when she lets herself dwell. She has seen something awful inside of him, something that she has to be faced with, but there's something strange inside of her that she can't really put into words. Hermione has always been the type of person with faith and forgiveness; she had believed in Snape, in Malfoy, in Dumbledore, perhaps when she shouldn't, when she had seen the worst in them, and she thinks it must be the same when she sees Gilgamesh.
Hermione knows what loneliness can do to people. Remus was one example, a man shamed for something he can't control, and Snape was another, twisted in his own anger over mistakes that he had made when he was far younger. Her arms slide around him as easily they did Remus, this time last year, comforting him in his loneliness and his sadness, his regret, just as much as she feels it from Gilgamesh. Hermione is used to fading into the background, into letting herself be support, so being remembered is not something she worries about.
It seems to be so much to him, though, and it tugs at her. It's such a simple desire and it's something she can give him without hurting too much, without losing a part of herself, so why shouldn't she? ]
I'm glad to hear it.
[ She relaxes, lets her hand brush over his cheek, her smile a little shy even as she offers it. Unsure of what to say, she stays silent for a moment, barely enough, before she shakes her head and squeezes him with her arm again. ]
I know you were. It's okay, I won't forget.
[ How can she forget him, forget some of the niceness he has shown her, even as doubts flicker in her mind, when she wears his ring around her neck and has his gift on her wall, a beacon for anyone to understand they're bound in their own way? ]
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Hermione knows what loneliness can do to people. Remus was one example, a man shamed for something he can't control, and Snape was another, twisted in his own anger over mistakes that he had made when he was far younger. Her arms slide around him as easily they did Remus, this time last year, comforting him in his loneliness and his sadness, his regret, just as much as she feels it from Gilgamesh. Hermione is used to fading into the background, into letting herself be support, so being remembered is not something she worries about.
It seems to be so much to him, though, and it tugs at her. It's such a simple desire and it's something she can give him without hurting too much, without losing a part of herself, so why shouldn't she? ]
I'm glad to hear it.
[ She relaxes, lets her hand brush over his cheek, her smile a little shy even as she offers it. Unsure of what to say, she stays silent for a moment, barely enough, before she shakes her head and squeezes him with her arm again. ]
I know you were. It's okay, I won't forget.
[ How can she forget him, forget some of the niceness he has shown her, even as doubts flicker in her mind, when she wears his ring around her neck and has his gift on her wall, a beacon for anyone to understand they're bound in their own way? ]