I — Shipwreck
"Oh, the weather outside is frightful . . ."
Life was perfect.
". . . but the fire is so delightful . . ."
Life was grand.
". . . and since we've no place to go . . ."
Frankly, it couldn't get much better. Surrounded by my best mates and on my way to what I would gladly call my second home, nothing could take away from the precious euphoria that coursed through my veins (and arteries and capillaries and other such blood vessels). Nothing could dampen the carefree environment that filled me with every breath of oxygen (and nitrogen and carbon dioxide and other such atmospheric gases).
What started as an attempt to get a silly song out of my head gradually turned into a raucous chorus of Gryffindors with the full intent of ripping to shreds the eardrums of every person on board the Hogwarts Express. None of us seemed to care that we were singing a Christmas song in autumn nor that it could no longer be considered singing when the melody was barely intact.
Rather than caring about either of these things, we gathered breath for the finale, yelling until we were sure our lungs would collapse from the strain.
"LET IT SNOW, LET IT SNOW, LET IT —"
The compartment door blew open with a bang, falling off its hinges and smoking rather pathetically. If I hadn't already despised the owner of the wand that caused it, I may have been impressed with the feat. On the other hand, said owner also managed to disrupt the joyful insanity that I had lost myself in just moments before. That, in itself, was good reason to be at least a little bit resentful.
Leave it to me to have such thoughts while the rest of my friends stared at the doorway in shock.
"Would you lot shut the hell up?" seethed none other than Draco Malfoy. "I'm sure there are deaf men in China currently celebrating the miracle of hearing again for the racket that you bloody Gryffindors are making!"
Apparently, I spent too much time thinking and not enough time forming a clever retort since I instantly blurted something about the speed of sound (343 m/s through dry air), the distance from here to China (approximately 5000 km), and the impossibility of his statement.
Realizing too late how I sounded, my rapid and almost incoherent speech slowed to an excruciatingly awkward halt. I flushed with embarrassment and frustration as everyone paused and stared. The silence was killing me slowly.
Malfoy burst into laughter, his Slytherin posse following close behind in the obvious hilarity of it all. In the seats next to and across from me, Ron and Harry shook for a few moments before exploding. Not from righteous anger in my defense — no. They laughed.
And laughed.
And laughed.
Next thing you know, the rivaling groups collapsed on each other, hugging and having a great old time as if they'd never wanted to tear each others eyes out. The same way I wanted to right now.
Okay, exaggeration may be one of my more annoying qualities. Honestly though, aren't best mates supposed to look out for each other?
"Oh, Granger! You've outdone yourself this time." Malfoy smirked, but the usually smug expression was ruined by his amusement. My jaw clenched at the latter observation. I was jealous of him. He was having fun in the same way I wanted to, in the same way I deserved to, in the same way I had been before he interrupted it with his destruction of innocent doors and his abuse of, in my opinion, even more innocent Hermione's. Then again, all of this was in my opinion, and there was only one Hermione that really mattered.
Fun was necessary, something that stopped existing sometime between the second rise of Voldemort and the funerals of loved ones after the final battle. Now Malfoy had to come and steal it away from me, covet the one thing I wanted more dearly than anything else. It was right within my reach too. I'd almost lost myself in it. Damn him. Damn him to all hells.
Deciding I could stand the humiliation no longer, I left my seat and stepped over the fallen door. The Slytherins were feeling slightly more accommodating than usual and let me pass without much fuss.
The crazy part is that all of it took place in the duration of about five minutes.
And people wonder why I talk too much. Pfft.
But for all my brainpower, I didn't know where to go. I was walking rather aimlessly — something hard to do on a train considering there are only two directions to choose from. It was sometime later that I found myself at the end of the last car, pulling open the door to the back. Air rushed in, and my brain immediately jumped to its components again: nitrogen, oxygen, argon, carbon dioxide . . .
To quote Ron: Bloody hell! Couldn't I just stop thinking for one measly second?
Measly. What an interesting word. It rhymes with Weasley. My lips twisted into a grimace as I wondered why Malfoy had never used it in one of the sorry excuses that he called insults. Not that I could really talk — my own shot at a comeback had blown up in my face.
I sighed and leaned against the rail, the wind making an absolute wreck of my hair. It was a pity, actually; some free time at the end of summer allowed me to research some potions that tamed my hair rather nicely. Yet, being out there was blissful. Oddly, it made me think of the famous scene from Titanic. The thought made me smile softly. On a whim, I spread my arms out.
I nearly jumped out of my skin when I felt a hard body press against me, strong arms stretching out so that my hands were caught tightly in theirs. I managed to gasp loudly before I wrenched my hands from their grasp and spun around to face the invader of my personal space. Malfoy, my personal space invader. How lovely.
"You!" I growled, a lioness to the core. "How dare you! You have no right to touch me, let alone . . ."
My words died in my throat. His eyes, closed when I first turned around, now stared into mine. I got sucked into the color, the depth, the emotion. The lack of emotion. I pulled my eyes and body away from him, confused and disgusted. This boy, man, whichever . . . He must have lost his mind. What happened to Pureblood superiority and Mudblood taint and practically every ideal he used to shove in my face constantly?
Just like in Titanic, this was ending in a shipwreck. Insanity. And from the looks of it, Malfoy was beginning to realize it too.
"Shit," he murmured, but I didn't wait to hear the rest of it. I fled into the train and didn't look back.
Everything had changed. Nothing had changed. It almost hurt my mind to accept the contradiction as it was, but both were true.
Magic restored Hogwarts back to its previous state of majesty, building up walls knocked down by the giants and replacing broken windows. It even cleaned the Great Hall of the blood, sweat, and tears that had stained the floors only months before. You could hardly notice there was a battle at all.
But the reminders were there, branded into our minds even if they weren't branded into the castle. Children were forced to grow up too fast, witnessing the horrors of the world and surviving ordeals that, maybe in another lifetime, they wouldn't even have heard of.
And the reminders were also in the things that weren't there, the people who died and could never return except in photographs and memories (or ghosts, in rare cases).
I told myself it was all worth it. It had to be. At least it was over. Finally over, and I could start where I left off. All of the students were required to repeat their Year, or for the people like me, to enter the Year that they missed. This didn't pose much of a problem except for First Years and Seventh Years, the newcomers and the ones held back.
Since any student of age was allowed to fight in the final battle, predictably, all of the older Gryffindors volunteered; consequentially, a goodly amount either died or was injured enough to not be able to return to school immediately. This helped the situation in its own twisted way, making enough room for the new Seventh Year Gryffindors to share both classes and dorms with the (for the most part) repeating ones.
My roommates included Lavender Brown, Parvati Patil, and Ginny Weasley. Oh, the joy!
In other years, that would've been a completely sarcastic statement. This year, it was earnest.
Lavender and Parvati, their graces the Gossip Queens, were partiers and generally just girls who liked to have fun. They used to be shallow sometimes as well, but the war squeezed some of that out. Overall, their graces would be an improvement on the current lack of good times.
Then there's Ginevra Molly, the wonderful Ginny I can always depend on, the rule-breaker extraordinaire. Of course, she got it from her older brothers (excluding Percy Stick-in-his-Arse Weasley), but I'm not complaining this year.
After the Sorting Ceremony and the Welcoming Feast (during which I ignored both Ron and Harry), the Prefects and the Head Boy and Girl led the students to their respective Houses. As a Prefect, I marched in front of the Gryffindor crowd.
"First Years, this way!" I called out, spotting the lost, disorganized group.
Surprised I wasn't made Head Girl? Professor McGonagall decided I've had enough stress to last a lifetime. Adding on the amount of study time necessary for N.E.W.T.s, I would've been driven to insanity. So, as a relief to me, Head Girl was Padma Patil of Ravenclaw, and Head Boy was Ernie Macmillan of Hufflepuff. Both were academically successful, former members of Dumbledore's Army, and responsible individuals. The fact that neither had lost loved ones simply put the icing on the cake.
But neither stood a chance against Peeves.
Cackling, he fulfilled his duty as poltergeist and resident pain in the arse as he sent Dungbombs at the unsuspecting "ickle firsties".
Ernie took the indirect approach, choosing to explode the projectiles with a well-aimed Expulso. Bad results. Everyone was sprayed with the debris.
Padma got the bright idea of casting a Shield Charm in the air above the First Years who were still the main targets. Bad results. Peeves ignored the barrier and reverted his attention to the rest of the student population.
Rolling my eyes, I hit him with a Stupefy. He fell to the ground unconscious.
To my surprise, Malfoy followed it up and cast a few Scouring Charms to clean up the mess.
I didn't like to admit it, but we made a good team. When his gaze met mine, I nodding at him in recognition and then proceeded to escort the rest of my House to Gryffindor Tower.
At the portrait of the Fat Lady, she inquired, "Password?"
After some thought, I decided, "Lycanthropy."
Memories of ex-Professor Lupin flashed in my mind for brief seconds. Poor Teddy.
I addressed the First Years, directing them to the staircases that led to the boys' and girls' dormitories. Ron sneaked in a comment to the boys about saving themselves some humiliation later and to just avoid the girls' staircase. Harry chuckled at the memory, but I glared at them both, still miffed about the train incident. The first train incident — completely separate from what I dubbed as the Titanic incident.
"Come on, 'Mione," he implored. As if he even knew how to use the word 'implored' correctly in a complete sentence. "You can't still be mad at us!"
Yes, I could.
"Don't 'Mione me, Ronald." I was quickly getting fed up. "You got pleasure out of my humiliation. In front of Malfoy, no less!"
"Aren't you supposed to be the logical, reasonable one?" he argued.
What did that have to do with anything? I opened my mouth to reply angrily, but Harry interrupted my thoughts.
"Things are different now," he explained, trying to dig Ron out of the grave he was digging for himself. "If we still keep our old prejudices, how can we expect the Slytherins to do any better?"
Merlin, they thought I was being prejudiced?
"That's not the point!" I cried. I stomped my foot and flung my arms around in the air, making wild gestures. "You two are supposedly my best mates, and I was in an awfully uncomfortable situation. The last thing I needed either — let alone both of you to do was laugh in my face!"
They cringed. Finally, we're getting results.
I sighed. "We all just need to support each other. You're completely right; things are different. Still, I don't appreciate the way you disregarded my feelings."
The last thing I wanted to do was push my friends away, especially over something as silly as this . . . especially after everything we've had to go through.
They looked at each other and seemed to have a silent conversation before turning back and smiling sheepishly at me.
"We're sorry, Hermione," they said almost in unison.
Why did they have to be adorable?
The summer of grieving had brought us even closer together than before. I wouldn't have believed it possible, but it happened.
Ron and I also had something a little different now. The kiss we shared during the Battle of Hogwarts didn't make us officially boyfriend and girlfriend. Neither of us were ready for that so soon after the war, even though we felt more than friendship. Yet, it was comfortable and rarely awkward, except when we fought. Like just now.
I grinned at them and opened my arms wide, laughing when they tackled me onto one of the many plushy couches in the common room. I hugged them both. My boys. My stupid, stupid boys.
Life was perfect.
Disclaimer: I own nothing but the plot and the bunnies that carry them to me.
NOTES:
04.17.09 — Caelestis Amor is back with a vengeance!
No guarantees on this fic . . . If it all seems rather random, that's because it is. (I actually wrote the first several paragraphs with no idea who the narrator was.) But random is rather humorous in my opinion, so we'll see how it goes. Hopefully, I can string together a decent plot. Again, no guarantees.
If you have time (which you must if you bothered to read this note), review! Getting them gives me this bubbly feeling inside, so spread the love! Tell me if you liked it, loved it, hated it. Give me constructive criticism. Mention which parts you thought were funny. Point out the parts that annoyed you or need to be corrected. As long as you're polite, truly polite, and not fake-polite-slash-sarcastic-slash-mocking, I'll even reply.
Thanks for reading!