VIRGIN COLOR
by Shandi Luaine

Disclaimer: This story contains characters created and owned by J.K. Rowling, Bloomsbury Publishing, Scholastic, Warner etc... No profit is being made and no infringement is intended.
Genre: It's a mix of romance, drama, and humor...
A/N:This is the first time I write a fanfiction in English, I hope you'll enjoy reading Hermione's tribulations. I think it's getting more interesting from the 2nd chapter though. I'm proud of this fic, but it's known that every authors are proud of their story... until they write another one. A big thanks to Emybellerose, my beta. She helped me to improve my English and write something credible. And for those who hate D/H fictions : I know that D/H pairing is unlikely, but fanfiction are unlikely. Aren't they? Now please, read and review.

"To love is to suffer. To avoid suffering, one must not love. But then, one suffers from not loving. Therefore, to love is to suffer; not to love is to suffer; to suffer is to suffer. To be happy is to love. To be happy, then, is to suffer, but suffering makes one unhappy. Therefore, to be happy, one must love or love to suffer or suffer from too much happiness."

Woody Allen

Chapter 1 Specks of dust

It was a great idea, but she was already late; maybe, she could just take another train and not do the surprise. She got the idea when she got her masters degree in wizard's law. Harry had come back from his holiday in Italy and realized that he had forgotten to give the double key back to Ron. She decided to make a surprise trip and visit her boyfriend in Italy. She ran towards the train—and her great idea—ignoring the feeling that this would end messily.

She remembered the day Ron said that he had accepted the chance to open a Weasley shop in Italy. She had been upset because they had never been separated for a long period of time, because he knew she couldn't come with him, and because she loved him.

"You don't trust me"

"It's not about trust Ron," she responded discomfited. "It's simply about… us."

"Don't be so afraid Hermione. I will always love you."

"Why are you leaving me?"

"I'm trying to think ahead, to live… It's not as if I'll never come back; it's only a two year trial."

"Yeah, well," though unsatisfied, she didn't say anything more and hugged him.

'Nothing will spoil my surprise,' she thought strongly as she got onto the train, 'Nothing.' She dragged her luggage all over the train trying to find a place to sit. 'Nothing!' She collapsed onto a seat in the last carriage between two old stinky men, a working girl, and Pansy Parkinson. Pansy was looking at her with such total indifference that Hermione wondered if she even recognized her. She tried to behave the same way, but couldn't help looking at her face. It was just too strange to meet Pansy on a muggle train and dressed in muggle clothes.

Despite the end of the war and its causes, some old rivalries stayed the same and others changed into cold bitterness often disguised under polite civility. Still, Hermione didn't know how to act in front of the Slytherin girl.

Pansy was a bit like her, she realized with horror. She wasn't really pretty; she was petite, brunette, and had two mosquito bites in place of breast. But money, if it can't give happiness, can give beauty and pride.

However, Pansy didn't look as prideful and haughty as she did in school Hermione noticed. Her gaze was melancholy, hopeful, and… what was she doing on a muggle train?

How bizarre, Pansy's on a muggle train. How bizarre, Pansy's staring at the land with melancholy expression. How bizarre, Pansy's getting a book out of her bag. How bizarre, Pansy's looking at her. Hermione immediately turned her gaze towards the window. She saw Pansy frown and start to say something, but fortunately the train-traffic inspector arrived and asked them for their ticket.

"A ticket?" asked Pansy in disbelief. "Why do we need a ticket to travel in this dirty cauldron?"

"You have to pay the service…the driver, the constructors, and all the staff," the inspector explained placidly.

"I didn't know I had to buy a ticket," she said more calmly.

"Are you coming from Mars?"

The look on Pansy's face clearly said that she hadn't understood what he had said. Indeed, she seemed to be wondering if there was a trap in the question, "Yes."

"Hmm, I'm going to have to give you a fine," he stated undisturbed.

"For being Martian?"

"For not having a ticket," the inspector replied, "I need your identification card."

Hermione saw her perform a charm and give a card to the train-traffic inspector. He asked if she could pay the fine now, but Pansy had no muggle money.

"You'll receive a letter and then you'll have to pay it. All the modalities are on the fine I gave you. Where are you going?"

"Italy."

"Well, buy a ticket for the next train in Paris. There's an agent who'll be able to guide you. Have a nice trip Miss Granger," he said as he made his way through the carriage to check the rest of the tickets.

"Thank you." Hermione and Pansy both replied.

"Hey wait! You performed a… to…!" cried Hermione.

"Is there a problem Miss?" the inspector asked as he took the working girl's ticket.

"Yes, is there a problem?" Pansy repeated with a gullible expression on her face.

Everyone was looking at Hermione curiously. She frowned deeply in frustration.

"No… hem… I just thought, err nothing, really no problem."

She wait for the inspector to leave their carriage then she bent towards Pansy and whispered into her ear, "You can't do this. I'll report you to the Wizard Office of fraud for impersonation."

"I don't care. I'm banished from the British wizard community," she whispered back.

"What? How?" Hermione questioned, rising up abruptly.

"It's not your business."

Since Hermione was such an inquisitive girl, she couldn't help wondering what Pansy could have done to be banished. If she'd committed a crime, she would have been sent to Azkaban. She stayed quiet for a couple of seconds.

Pansy was desperately looking into her bag for something and began to throw everything out of it. It was a medium-sized hand bag, but everybody was stunned to see a big pack of clothes with many books coming out of this supposedly simple hand bag. Pansy didn't seem to care, but Hermione was starting to feel embarrassed. She clicked her tongue in exasperation and picked up Pansy's things from the floor.

"Pan… Miss Granger! You mustn't do this here; the floor is dirty. Come in the corridor with me, I'll carry your things."

Pansy stopped immediately, looking at Hermione going to the corridor. After a minute of hesitation, she followed her old enemy out the door.

"What are you doing?" Pansy asked sharply.

"You're in the muggle world. There are things you can't do here. If you do…"

"I said I don't care," she retorted furiously. "Give me my things back."

Hermione did as she was told, but turned her gaze towards Pansy's quickly emptying bag with more desperation and craziness.

"Why don't you summon what you're looking for with your wand?" Hermione asked.

Pansy began to weep and shake. "I, I don't have it anymore… Falsifying papers and sweetening my tea is all I am able to do without my wand."Hermione struggled to not ask why she wasn't in possession of her wand and said, "I'll help you. What is it?"

"A paper with an address," answered Pansy grudgingly.

"You have to be more specific."

"It's a yellow piece of parchment."

Hermione though strongly about this piece of parchment and summoned it.

One came from Pansy's bag, and one came from another carriage. She gave them both to Pansy and helped her gather her clothes silently. She knew that she wouldn't get a thank you from the Slytherin girl. "I'm going to Italy too," she said after a long moment of silence. "I'm going to live with Ron there."

"I'm not banished," Pansy replied quietly. "The ministry took my wand and forbade me from leaving the country. If I do, I'll be sent to Azkaban."

Hermione knew that this kind of punishment was only used for people suspected of a crime or thought to be linked to a criminal.

"Oh hum… Do you have family there?"

"I have Draco," she replied unconfidently.

Hermione was startled to hear that Draco Malfoy was living in Italy, too. She hadn't heard about him since his parents' trial.

So, they were two old enemies, leaving their lives in England to find their lovers in Italy. Bizarre, bizarre.

The two girls arrived in Paris and left each other without a goodbye…or a good luck.

----

Hermione didn't see Pansy again. She was sitting comfortably on a plane which was taking her towards her new life, and she thought about Ron and their relationship.

She knew he was the one.

She had been scared when a lot of couples broke up. Bill and Fleur, George and Angelina, Luna and Dean… Luna and Dean had split up as fast and unlikely as they had dated. How could it happen? Why do people love each other so much that they'd give up their lives for each other, and then say that they can't stand to be in the same room at the same time anymore? She had been scared to receive a letter from Ron saying he wasn't in love with her anymore. He was so far away and the last time he had been in England was six month ago. Hermione knew this couldn't happen to her. Ron and she were too bound; they knew each other perfectly, every corner of light and shadow. 'And what is more solid than a friendship that turned into love,' Hermione thought firmly.

When she arrived, the city center was full of people and tourists. Florence, in the afternoon, was actually a very nice sight. She stood there for a moment, looking all around the place, letting the sun shine smoothly over her pale skin, and reminding her how good her new life would be. The excitement squeezed her stomach, and she ran. She kept on running until she arrived at Ron's front door.

She found the key and opened the flat door gently as a little angel started to flap his wings vigorously inside her heart.

The flat was surprisingly in order; even the decoration had been chosen and placed delicately. Hermione started to wonder if it was actually Ron's flat, but then she reasoned, the key had worked.

She put her luggage down and sat on a comfortable black leather sofa. Something was bothering her. She tried to push away the feeling that she wasn't in the right place, but she couldn't move from the sofa. She decided to find the owl's cage so that she could send a message to Harry and tell him she was fine.

She found a carrier pigeon. As she sent her parchment to Harry, she wondered what Ron's reaction would be. What would she do if he was not surprised, or worse, if he was not happy to see her at all?

"I will throw this vase in his face," she said out loud looking suspiciously at the beautiful Egyptian vase that was standing proudly near the sofa.

Her stomach began to beg for food, and she got the idea to make a little meal for Ron. Hermione was a poor cooker, but she had learned from Ron's mother how to feed a Weasley properly without spending more than half an hour in the kitchen. She felt more confident when she found Ron's cookware because there weren't many. She smiled widely when she opened the fridge and saw that it was full of Butterbeers and sausages. It looked more like Ron.

Twenty nine minutes later, dinner was ready, and she started to bring the food towards the sitting room when she found herself nose to nose with Ron's wand.

"Hermione? Is that you? How did you get here?"

"Hi," was all she could say. She was holding her breath, the hot platter of pasta burning her hands.

Ron took the platter and kissed her on the nose like he always did when he was feeling tender. "You didn't have to…"

She kissed him back on the lips, though not as deeply as she had wanted because he didn't respond. 'Maybe he was too moved by her appearance,' she lied to herself. Ron put the platter on the coffee table and looked at her guiltily.

"Hermione, I tried to tell you but…"

No, no, no, NOT that. She hadn't planned that. She firmly refused to think that she had been lying to herself.

"No, Ron you didn't try. Otherwise, I would have understood. You know I'm not stupid, I found out when I arrived here." Found out what? That there was another girl? She realized that the strange feeling she had felt earlier was because of this other girl sharing her life with Ron, because of this other girl coming regularly into Ron's flat, putting it in order, but forgetting to check the fridge. What kind of girl could she be if she didn't check her boyfriend's fridge, Hermione's future ex boyfriend's fridge? She started to suffocate. Something ran down her cheeks, and she realized she was sobbing like a little girl.

"I, I'm so sorry," Ron claimed genuinely. "I'm such a coward when it comes to love, you know, I'm really awkward…"

"You're such a chicken about a lot of things Ronald Weasley, but above all you're a coward when it comes to noble feelings like friendship or love. Nobody can trust you."

"Hey, we're talking about us, about THIS relationship. Don't try to shoot me down again by casting my old mistakes in my face."

"Again?"

"Yeah, you always do this when we argue. You shoot me down, and use my weaknesses as weapons."

"That's not true! I'm always helping you show the best of yourself, you ungrateful pig."

"Yeah, you always wanted the best of me, but I'm just me. You wanted us to live together forever, but I just have my life. You wanted us to walk in parallel lines when I was walking sideways. Will you always see a coward in me? Someone too average?" He finally asked, his voice lowing.

'Did he rehearse this speech or what?' Hermione wondered as she felt devastated.

"Oh Ron," she cried obviously not trying to hold back tears. "You got everything wrong. Before being your girlfriend, I was your friend. I would never, ever shoot you down. You got everything wrong," she repeated still weeping loudly as the little angel she had in her heart crashed like a vulgar pigeon.

She took her luggage and ran towards the door while Ron tried to grab her arm.

"Where are you going Hermione? You can stay here as long as you… No! Put the vase down please, it's hard to fix it…!" But she threw it with all her strength and ran faster.

Without thinking, she got onto the first bus she found. Every dream she had cherished for such a long time was, now, only specks of dust, dead matter.

Now review! I'm not scared of bitchy or flamed review as long as they're fair, I think every critics help to improve. So, come on!