No Copyright Infringement Intended
A/N: Credit for this idea goes to Readerforlife. Thanks for letting me write it!
Happy - Saving Jane
Hermione Granger's eyes hurt. They were sore from tears of sadness, longing, and loss. She reached blindly in her fridge. The lights were off, and she turned her head away from the glare of the light that emitted from the coldness. Her fingers wrapped around cool glass. She didn't bother looking at what exactly she had. She got a cup from the cupboard above, and poured the mystery liquid in it. She took a sip. Red wine. She gulped emptying the drink.
It burned her tongue, and throat leaving behind a an awful taste that not a good brushing could rid. She had cried so much that she figured she was replenishing lost tears.
In a sudden surge of anger she threw the glass to the wall. She heard it shatter, the glass pieces flying over the floor. A simple spell would clean the mess, and she happened not to care to do it then. She didn't even know where her wand was.
All that time... The adventures they went through, the dangers they faced, they did it together, and in the end Harry chose Ginny. What did he see in the girl that he didn't see in her? She was fiery, beautiful, powerful, and she did love him. Damn her, she loved him. So did Hermione. She let her mind waver, and silently let herself ask what he saw when he looked at her? What would he say if he saw her now drinking alcohol from a bottle? She was sure he wouldn't be pleased, but he'd be a gentlemen, and send her to her room, clean up the glass, sleep on the couch, and tend to her in the morning. As a friend.
Filling up my days with red wine
Wonder what you think of me?
Hermione stumbled outside, leaving her half empty bottle on the counter. The shards of glass cut into her bare feet, and somewhere she registered that she was bleeding. It was staining her feet, the tile floor, and soon the grass outside. The night air was cold, she knew this, but it didn't register either. She didn't go back to get a jacket. No, if she couldn't freeze to death, then maybe it would freeze her feelings, because the red wine did little for her other than make her tipsy.
She fell onto her knees, and rolled to her back. She had hoped it was a fling. That Harry would realize how he felt about her, but apparently there were no feelings. None powerful enough to break through the love he had for her friend. What happened to the trio? When did Ginny enter the picture? Why did Harry suddenly notice her? Why had she encouraged her? Maybe she wanted to be a good friend, or think that he would realize who he still loved. He didn't, and it wasn't fair, that after all they've been through it had been Ginny he wanted.
Did he ever think about them? Their first hug? Going back in time to save his godfather, and Buckbeak? Kissing his cheek in their fifth year? The night she kissed him in the tent while hunting Horcuxes? That very night that he kissed her back?
Lying in the grass alone and wasted
Nothing's how it used to be
Clumsily she stood entering back into her kitchen, the glass under her feet. She was going to need to go to St. Mungo's in the morning, she knew her feet were being shredded, but she didn't care. Nothing mattered anymore other than letting him know she was fine. How could he not know, he never knew any better.
Her hand reached for the phone, and she narrowed her eyes at the buttons. They blurred in front of her, but even in a drunken state she was able to dial his number. She had it by heart. She memorized it in case of emergency, like she had done Ron's. Voldemort was gone, but deatheaters were still running loose, and they knew they were targets. It was a precaution.
It ringed once... Twice... Three... Four... Five... Machine. His voice. Deep, and monotone as if reading from the phone manual. How original, she thought without emotion. She wasn't even sure why she thought that. She grabbed the bottle again, and took another swig before recording her message, vaguely aware of how she was slurring her words.
"Harry! Harry Potter, this is Hermione. Hermione Granger! You are engaged forty-eight hours now! Congratulations, I'm so happy for you. You, and Ginny..." She hung up. She wouldn't remember it in the morning, even her sloshed logical mind could comprehend that much.
Hermione slid down the counters onto more of the broken glass that was now cutting her legs.
I wanna be the first to call and tell you
Yesterday I heard the news
I hear you ought to be congratulated
So I guess that's what'll I do
Warm, and sleepy she thought of the couch that laid waiting for her in the sitting room. It was better than going upstairs to her bedroom, she honestly didn't know if she could make it up the stairs. It was the couch, or the glass. She opted for the couch, and pulled herself up, leaving bloody footprints in her wake.
Once in the sitting room she fell on the hunter green couch, and cried. She was happy for him. She was truly, completely, and hopelessly happy for him. Damn him, and his happiness. That glittering ring, Ginny's shining face. Their smiles, and kisses. She felt sick, and it wasn't from the wine. She wanted to die.
I'm so happy for you
I could cry
Yeah, I'm so elated
Cross my heart and hope to die
I don't think about you every night
Before I close my eyes
I'm so happy for you baby,
I could cry.
Morning came, the sun blinding her with its rays. Dried blood stuck to her, a reminder of her foolishness. Her head pounded in her head, and saw the empty bottle lying next to her on the floor. She wanted to puke, this time it was from the wine. What was she thinking? She couldn't hold her liquor well. The room swam around her as if proving the point.
She would never recall how she made it up the stairs, or filled the tub with scalding hot water. She sunk into it not taking off her clothes. The blood was washed away, and she dipped her head under soaking the monstrosity that was her bushy hair. She wanted to drown in her sorrows, in that bathtub, and if she couldn't do that, perhaps it would make her forget. She still must be drunk, because if wine couldn't make her forget, water sure wasn't. She could never forget.
Hermione closed her eyes, and saw his face before her as if he was there. His bright green eyes hidden behind glasses that she was constantly fixing, the untidy black hair she loved, and always wanted to smooth down, but in caresses. She wouldn't change a thing about him. She loved him, and it hurt like no pain she experienced, not even at the Malfoy Manor. He was the only thought that kept her going that night.
Listen to the sound of my head pounding
Wish that it was make-believe
Praying for the skies to open up and
Wash away your memory
Without so much as lifting a bar of soap, she pushed herself up, weighted down by her wet clothes. They clung to her body, every lovely curve she had. Did Harry ever see her as a girl? Was she only his friend, the bookworm, the person he turned to for help in class, and in life?
Hermione attempted to step out, but she became dizzy, and she fell over the porcelain tub landing hard on the floor. It sounded like it hurt, and she sure it would when the effects of last night wore off. It didn't matter, nothing did. When the wine was gone from her system she would only be hit with the horrible reality that she lost the only man she ever loved to her best friend. She didn't care to feel ever again. Never.
She had promised the Weasley's she would be there for a more formal celebration. She went into the kitchen, careful with her steps on the stairs. There was a potion for this. She couldn't let everyone see her in the state she was in, and she couldn't very well not show. She could do it, she could face him, and face her friend, and their family. It was the heartache at seeing her in his arms that she didn't know if she could handle. She would have to. For him.
Hermione opened the small vial, and took the contents in her mouth. It was sour, and it woke her with new tears in her eyes. They fell down her cheeks, sore from constantly wiping them away. A fresh new wave engulfed her as she felt the pain in her feet, and legs. She didn't bother wiping the tears away this time. It was a new pain at least.
She dressed, without once looking in the mirror. The dress she picked out was random, she wore no makeup, and her hair was down if it was needed to curtain her expression. After a small spell to empty the glass from her wounds, she wrapped them in bandages, small sobs escaping her. It would leave scars, but none deeper than the ones she already had. There was no use putting in real effort. He made his choice.
I can walk around with a pretty face on
Even when I'm black and blue
What's the point in telling everybody
I'm not over you.
Hermione apparated in the backyard of the Burrow. She took a deep breath, and entered the bustling kitchen. A sea of vivid red-heads greeted her, and she was glad she took the potion, or else she would have been sickened by the bright color. There was only one who wasn't a red-head, and it was him that she chose to avoid at that particular time. It was too bad she wasn't being ignored. Everyone turned to her, Mr. Weasley, Percy, Bill, Fleur Charlie, Ron, Ginny, and even baby Teddy in George's arms, who also stared.
Mrs. Weasley cried at once, "oh, dear, Hermione, what happened to you?"
Hermione looked into her reflection in the window. She should have checked into a mirror before she left her house. She looked like a girl that got drunk last night because the love of her life was marrying his own love. Instead of just looking drunk with dark rings under her eyes, and her hair as untidy as Harry's, she had bruises over her face, and she was sure there were cuts, and more bruises on her legs.
"Hermione, are you okay? What happened? What's wrong?" Harry asked her with insistently, almost annoyingly. He put his hands on her arms, and she wished he would hold her.
She didn't answer his questions, instead she recited from a muggle song she knew that had suddenly came to her at the most significant time...
"I'm so happy for you
I could cry
Yeah, I'm so elated
Cross my heart and hope to die
I don't think about you every night
Before I close my eyes
I'm so happy for you baby,
I could cry."
Harry looked at her confused. How could he ever be confused? Hasn't it always been obvious, she thought angrily, I never stopped loving him, and like last night with the cup, she lashed out. She pushed him back, his legs hitting a chair, and he held on to the table for balance looking at her like she lost her mind. He looked... Scared. She cried. She cried hot tears, and then laughed. The man who defeated the darkest wizard ever to exist was scared of her.
She wanted that bottle back, or the hot bath. She wanted to drown her sorrows one way or another, and without realizing it, she whispered some more of the song.
"Cry about the love we used to have
Cry that I won't ever get you back"
"The memories I have are lies to me, and mundane to you," she croaked feeling everyone's worried stares.
Harry reached out for her, hesitant, like approaching a wild animal. She recoiled. He looked hurt. Good. He broke her heart, she would break their friendship. No, she didn't want that. She shook her head. She saw beautiful Ginny behind him, and felt a fresh wave of guilt. Her friend...
Filling up my empty days with red wine
Wonder what you think of me?
Hermione took the drink from Ginny's hand. She finished it. Red wine. How appropriate. How coincidental. She laughed like a maniac, and sat down the glass before it suffered the same fate as hers. She never did clean the glass, and blood in her kitchen.
She turned to Harry. "I don't care what you think of me." She did care. She cared a lot. She was a fool.
I'm so happy for you
I could cry
Yeah, I'm so elated
Cross my heart and hope to die
I'm so happy for you
So, so happy for you
Hermione left the Burrow, her pseudo family left bewildered behind her. She would be happy for them. She would make herself feel that one emotion for her friends. No matter the pain she went through, or the memories that haunted her. She never put herself first for anything, especially when it came to him. She would continue this. His happiness before her own. Because she loved him desperately. That would be his wedding gift from her. Happiness. Without her.
I don't think about you every night
Before I close my eyes
I'm so happy for you baby,
I could cry.
That night she slept in her bed. She reached under her pillow, and pulled out the picture of her love. It had been taken by Ginny herself their fourth year, after the first task in the Triwizard Tournament. He had an arm slung over her shoulders, and they were laughing. She wasn't sure why. Probably because he survived. That, right there, was happiness. Being there with him, feeling his warmth, hearing him laugh, and know of the hope that she carried with her.
It was taken away so easily. I'm happy for them, she thought as she cried. So very happy for them. Hermione clutched the picture in her hand. "So happy I could die," she breathed.