“And then – then you would look at Harry. And it would be something s-simple, like you passing him a plate at dinner, but that voice, it would say, ‘See, don’t you see? Don’t you see her looking at him? Don’t you see how much better he is? You’re such an idiot, being here, isn’t it clear they don’t want you? Isn’t it obvious you could just leave and they wouldn’t notice? Don’t you see that you mean nothing to her, because he is so much better than you?’” Ron said, his voice trembling again as tears leaked out of the corners of his eyes. He was staring at the locket with so much hatred, Hermione wondered if the metal would melt in his hands

———-

“Ron, don’t you ever, ever believe anything like that,” she whispered. She was not scolding him; her voice was soft and gentle. “I love you. You are strong and brave and kind and perfect. Don’t you ever believe that you aren’t – aren’t worth something, that you don’t deserve something,” she whispered. [X]