The room was quiet. Nothing but the sound of the conversation emerging from Bill and the roar of the fire was filling Hermione's ears. He could tell by the look in her eyes, that something wasn't right. But honestly, something hadn't been right for a while now. Things weren't like they used to be. She seemed, lost. The Hermione he knew wasn't there anymore. He didn't ask, didn't question what was wrong with her, because he always got the same answer
"Nothing, I'm fine"
They'd been together for about 9 months now. Not the longest of relationships, not by a long shot, but it was one of envy for most people.
Bill and Fleur had been divorced for only a year now. Things were lost between them. Things weren't how they should have been. They had been married to each other for about 3 years. When they divorced, they stayed friends. They stayed close, still worked together and for that fact Bill was grateful. They tried their hardest to stay in contact. Every now and then after work they, would go out for a meal. They would maybe go out into muggle London and Bill would show her around, as she still wasn't very accustomed to English ways and it was always funny watching her get flustered over how to read the menus at different restaurants, but it wasn't always that easy. It didn't start like this when they divorced.
Bill had been a mess. He was lost, not knowing what he would do without the wife that had stood by his side. The woman that looked after him after his attack, the one that looked after him while his family was going through a hard time with Percy, the one that would comfort him after his brother was taken into St. Mungos after the attack in the war and the one woman that fought for him and fought with him through the hardest times in their lives.
He found his comfort in one witch, one woman. Hermione Granger.
The two had been inseparable since a dinner at the burrow in early spring. They had started discussing one of their favourite books and from there on, the conversation bloomed onto favourite spells, then moved on to their favourite time at Hogwarts, then to their dreams for their future.
Bill was at the age of 29 during this conversation and he'd been divorced for a month. Things weren't perfect for the half wolf, but things were getting better, slowly. He'd talked to Hermione about how he wished to one day truly find somebody he could be with, someone he could love. Of course he
loved Fleur, he did so with all of his heart, but something was always missing, something that he couldn't seem to find. He told her his ambitions of moving up in his job and how that could be happening any time soon. The goblins, even though stone at heart, always seemed to have a little soft spot for him and seemed to be hinting on a promotion.
Hermione's side of what she wanted with her life was very similar, but at the same time very different to Bill's. She too wanted to find love, like all 23 year old women do, but she wasn't looking for it any time soon. She wanted to wait and let him find her. She also wished for a high rise job. She was already very high up in her respected field at the Ministry Of Magic, but she had only just been promoted, so chances of her getting another one any time soon were far from probable.
This conversation had gone on far into the night. Little did they both realise that The Burrow had emptied and everybody seemed to have gone off to bed.
Hermione wondered why nobody had stopped their conversation and made them to go up to bed. Something Mrs. Weasley was known too well for doing, but at the same point she didn't really mind. It had been such a long time since she'd been in a conversation with a handsome man, that was about something intelligent and not about his morning beauty treatments.
Hermione wasn't shy to a relationship, not at all, not in the slightest. She had been on many dates with many different wizards. None of them however seemed to end up in a healthy relationship, though all of them seemed to crash and burn, but being Hermione, she never let it affect her life or the way she acted with her friends. She was always strong. If something happened, She knew there would be a reason for it.
But here they were, no more than 11 months later. Both a year older, in a happy enviable relationship.
But something wasn't right.
Bill could see she was slowly drifting away into her thoughts. He tried to ignore it. Pretending that everything was fine, the way he wished it was but he couldn't. He couldn't ignore the sadness in her eyes. It pained him to see it. He looked at her, wondering if he should try just one more time and see if she would finally give in and tell him what had been bothering her so much for the past few weeks, but he didn't. He did what he usually does. He gave her a kiss on the cheek, told her he loved her and
left for bed. Leaving a seemingly empty but frustrated young Hermione to her thoughts again. The same thought that had been haunting her for the past few weeks.
Hermione stood. The room was so dark she couldn't see much. The only thing lighting the room was the fire that was in front of her. She didn't really understand how her and Bill had stayed up this late in conversation. Then the guilty feeling of realising she had no idea what the conversation was actually about came and honestly, she couldn't actually remember what a lot of their recent conversations were about. All she could think of when it came to their relationship as of the past month was the pain and the feeling she had now. She couldn't shake it, couldn't rid the feeling that was going through her no matter how much she told herself she was being ridiculous. No matter how much she told herself these feelings were nothing but her own insecurities shining through and no matter how painful it felt, she tried to be strong, but when it came to the dark, empty living room she'd been spending most nights in, the strength always seemed to vanish.
She walked over to a set of drawers that were placed to the right of the fire. She cast Lumos to her wand, opened the drawer and started rooting through it.
She lowered her wand so she could search the drawer a bit more thoroughly, pushing the little bits of stuff to one side until she found what she was searching for and she did. She found it. She pulled it out and held it. Moving back to the sofa that her and Bill had been conversing on she sat back down, her legs crossed. She pulled the sheet that had previously been over the back of the sofa, that was always there for when she would spend her night out of her bed, on this very same sofa doing this very same thing.
She covered her legs with the sheet and looked down to what she had been holding, an old picture frame. She looked down at it and couldn't help but smile. She always smiled when she looked at the picture, but she never understood the smile that presented her. This wasn't meant to be a happy thing for her to look at. This was a picture of Bill yes, but this was a picture of Bill and his Ex-wife. The smile on his face so wide, so real. One that she didn't know if he could produce anymore and then they came, she wondered when they would. It wasn't often that they didn't come. She could feel them falling down her face. She wiped them away, but of course they kept on coming. She couldn't help it, she didn't want to cry, but seeing how happy Bill was with Fleur, knowing that he still spends nights after work with her, knowing how beautiful and perfect she was, made her feel so small.
Hermione had been doubting Bill's love for her lately. Well no, she hadn't. She knew he loved her and she knew he would do everything for her, but she just couldn't see that love in his eyes that she used to see when he was with Fleur, looking at her across the table when they had dinner together at the burrow. She missed that look in his eyes.
She looked at the picture of Fleur.
"Perfect, flawless."
Hermione mumbled to herself, how she envied Fleur's beauty and the worst part was, she was never a mean woman. She had her airs and graces but, Hermione had hers as well, just like most people in the world do.
Her and Bill split due to differences in their lives. They didn't split because they had fallen out of love, or because they didn't like each other anymore, something that Hermione just couldn't get out of her head. She couldn't seem to shake the feeling that if it wasn't for these life differences, Bill and Fleur would still be happy and very much together.
Hermione looked around the room and remembered all the things her and Bill would do together when she first moved in with him. When they used to walk through the door after it had been raining, when they would laugh with each other walking down the stairs in the morning, after they had had a hilarious night of watching movies together, or when they would sit on the floor in front of the fire, just talking as they usually did, but one thing was different in these memories. The girl Hermione was picturing wasn't herself, she pictured Bill with Fleur.
In this little world, she always thought Bill looked happier when it was Fleur and not her. She always thought that maybe when Bill thought back at his times with Hermione, this is what he saw as well. Did Bill picture himself with Fleur even when he was with Hermione?
Hermione couldn't help but think that maybe all she were to Bill, was the girl who would pick up the pieces of his broken down marriage, but maybe that's not what Bill thought at all, maybe that's just what Hermione though about herself.
She looked back down at the picture of the two of them and smiled yet again. The smile she always gave when she saw Bill feeling truly happy. It may only have been 9 months they had been together, but she knew she loved him, knew she would give everything to see him happy, she just wasn't sure what would make him happy. He always said he loved her and wanted to be with her and that he was more than amazed and happy to be with a girl as clever as Hermione, but how could he prefer her over Fleur? The beautiful, French Veela, or the bushy haired brattish book worm. Hermione knew
who she'd pick if she were him and she knew who most other men would pick as well and she knew it wasn't her.
Hermione was starting to make herself mad. The thought that Bill were maybe just using her for his own ego, maybe he was with her to show Fleur that he'd moved on? Maybe he was with her so people couldn't see just how damaged he was? Or maybe, just maybe, she was thinking all this so she could hide the real reason things weren't going well in the relationship, that reason being that she never thought she could live up to Bill's ex-veela.
But at this point, Hermione wasn't thinking straight. She couldn't bring herself to think clearly, she was mad and she needed to get her head straight.
She went back to the drawer she had retrieved the picture frame from and pushed her hand in, trying to find something else. Her movement was getting shaky from rage and heart ache. She pulled out some clear parchment and placed it on the sofa while she walked across to the other side of the dimly lit room, still with her wand lighting the way.
When she strode across the room, she walked over to the window. In the middle of the wall, underneath it was a writing desk. This was obviously her main goal when she was walking over, but when she got there, she didn't acknowledge the desk at all. Instead she gazed out of the window, looking ever so pale and empty. The same look she had unconsciously given Bill while they were talking earlier.
There was nothing different or out of the ordinary when she looked out there. It was raining, heavily. The garden was dark, as it must have been round about midnight. Puddles forming in the grass, but everything still looked moderately beautiful. The tree that was just outside her window wasn't moving, suggesting that even though the rain was crashing down outside, the wind was nowhere to be seen.
Hermione's favourite kind of weather.
She looked back down to the desk and picked up a quill, the obvious reason she had gone to that part of the room in the first place and walked back to pick up the parchment she had left on the sofa. She went back to the desk and sat down and started to write something on the parchment.
"Do you wish I was a bit more like her? Bill, I hope you don't see me as the girl who will sort out all your problems, because I can't do it. Do you still love Fleur? I can't be her shadow anymore. Are we liars in denial? Are we smoke without the fire? Tell me please. Is this worth it? Do I deserve it?"
Hermione's eyes were flooded in tears, her anger willing her to pour her heart into this letter.
''She's gone and I'm picking up the pieces. I watched you cry, but you don't see that I'm the one by your side. All that's left is you and I and I'm picking up the pieces she left behind. I'm picking up the pieces of your broken heart; I need somebody to save me."
The parchment, now getting wet from the tears that left her eyes, falling onto the table, Hermione isn't sure of what she's writing anymore. She doesn't even know if she actually believes what she's writing, but it's helping her, so she doesn't stop.
"I remember when you and Fleur divorced. The heartbreak you were in, you cried every night, I was there, and I was by your side. I looked after you whenever I could; I've always been here Bill, why don't you look at me the way you used to look at her? Why do you tell me you love me, but then don't show it when you look at me? I miss that look of love I used to see in your eyes when you were with her, but I wish I could see it when you looked at me. I just can't, it was never there. How could I be so foolish to get with you so soon after what had happened to you? We were naïve and stupid. I love you so much William, I really do, but something isn't right. I'm not sure when I'll be back; I need to clear my head."
Hermione picked up the letter she had written and re-read it. She was crying so hard now and every word she had written had made her heart ache more and more.
She placed the letter onto the sofa and grabbed her coat. She wasn't really sure of where she was going to go, what she was going to do, or what leaving the house at this time of night with the weather so dismal was going to get her. But then again, when you don't know what you're trying to find, you can't really be picky about where you're going to find it. She looked out the window one last time before leaving the house. She looked at the rain falling to the ground and touched her hair, knowing how wet she was going to be when she left, wondering if she should put it up to stop it from being a complete nightmare.
She went into the kitchen and picked up a leather strap that Bill had taken out of his hair and left there after work. She used it to tie her hair up into a messy bun. There's only so neat you can get
your hair when you use a leather strap after all and even though it looked messy, she didn't really care. She wasn't leaving the house in a bit to find a boyfriend, she was leaving the house to clear her head and find peace in her mind.
She walked over to the front door and opened it. As soon as she did, all she could hear was the rain pouring down and hitting the floor. That brilliant and calming sound of the rain always helped her out. It was so loud that she didn't know if she'd be able to hear herself think when she left, before she stepped out the door thanking herself for putting a silencing charm on the house when she moved in, so she could never hear the sound of the noisy rain against the windows when it was this heavy. She giggled when she thought about it and then she stepped outside the door.
That was probably the first time she'd actually smiled in that house, for a very long time, but she hoped to herself and prayed to Merlin, that it also wouldn't be the last time and soon enough, she hoped she'd be able to come back here, Happy.
With that Hermione left the house, not sure of what she was planning to gain from the long walk ahead of her, but she knew for sure she'd gain more from it than sitting in the house, sulking like she had been for the past month, would ever get her.