Just one week until the leaving feast. Hermione was both giddy and saddened to see her days at Hogwarts come to an end. Sitting around the common room only added restlessness to it all, and she was nervous enough with what she planned to do. If only those fools would get back...
The portrait opened at that moment, and just the boy she had been waiting for came in. Harry and Ron were together as usual, and both their faces were flush. Hair was tousled, robes were spattered with mud... "Last minute practice?" Hermione asked in a tone far lighter than her current mood. The muscles of her face , trying to keep a smile in place, were protesting.
"Just needed to work off some tension," Harry answered, undoing his robe to reveal a sweat-soaked shirt underneath. Though his smile didn't falter, it was obvious he recognized her tension in the way he stood, and expressed it with a hastily added, "Or maybe not."
Ron was, as a matter of course, oblivious to her subtle moods. "Hey, Hermione! You really should come out with us, just once, for the end of the year." He smiled even more widely at her look of distaste, and leaned in to kiss her.
She turned her head slightly so the kiss landed on her cheek instead of her lips. "I don't think so, Ron. Besides..." She gave Harry a very pointed look. "We need to talk."
Harry sucked in a quick breath. "I'll just go wash up then," he said cheerily, now his own happy expression strained. One last clap on the shoulder for Ron, and he was off.
"What is it, Hermione?" Ron asked, more confused than anything. "It's just a little mud."
"It's not the mud. I think we should talk in my room." To spare it becoming gossip or worse, captured on film by Colin.
Ron grinned. "Sure."
To that, Hermione could only sigh. "Right. Come on." The fates were being kind to her and the two saw no one else in the hall. They were in her room without incident for once. "Ron," she began, and was immediately crushed in his arms, his mouth leaving a wet trail all over her face and neck. "No, Ron!"
At the very least, Ron understood that she really meant it when she said it, and immediately stopped his advances. Finally he looked wary of the situation. "What's wrong?"
Looking straight in his eyes, Hermione took a deep breath. "I think... we should split up." There, done. And not as difficult as she had assumed it would be.
"Very funny, Hermione. What did you want to talk about?"
OK, maybe it wouldn't be so easy. "I'm not kidding, Ron. Listen, we've had some very good times; I wouldn't ever say different. And... I love you, but... I don't think..." She shook her head. "It won't work between us. Not once we leave Hogwarts."
There. Now if Ron would just be rational...
"You bitch."
No hope there, and Hermione flinched. "Ron, I--"
"Right, this is all about you. I've put up with all your nagging, seven years worth, and now I'm the one that's done something wrong. You think that, don't you?" The pupils of Ron's hazel eyes were extremely dilated, and his face was blotchy.
This was very bad indeed.
"Love? The only thing you love are your bloody books, and your only hobby is kissing the arse of every teacher you run into."
Hermione was so horrified that she could only stare at him with her mouth open. Her entire body felt limp, and it was a wonder she didn't collapse right there at his feet.
"You want to break up? Fine. I didn't want to put up with you any longer. You were good for one thing: doing my homework. No, two things. Were a half-decent shag too." Something between a snarl and a frown twisted his lips. "So you can just take your books, your library, your studying, and your sodding cat, and just get the hell away from me, you cold-hearted bitch!"
When the door slammed shut, Hermione finally did collapse to the floor, too stunned to do much of anything. Something inside her that she had always denied because it was selfish and unpleasant finally found its freedom.
She had been breaking up with him anyway, so if he didn't want to talk to her now, no bother. Not that he ever said anything worth listening to. And he had some nerve to berate her for thinking the world revolved around her. Not like Ron Weasley, who just had to have his overly large share of attention or he started acting like a spoiled arse. But Ron never learned, and she was sick of trying to teach him.
Hermione was not a stranger to uncharitable thoughts, but the pure poison surprised her. Ron could take himself, his red hair, his stupid owl, his family, his jealousy, his ugly sweaters, and the Chudley bloody Cannons, and jump right off the astronomy tower!
"Sorry, Ginny," she mumbled under her breath. Then, loud enough to be heard out and down the hall, "Ron Weasley, you can go straight to hell, you selfish prat!"
That felt good.
Harry didn't speak to her, but he didn't speak to Ron either. He was probably tired of it. If it wasn't a fight between the two boys, then it was a fight between a different pair, and Harry was always involved, even when he didn't want to be.
Sadly, not many others talked to her. Without Harry or Ron to buffer her, she just didn't have much in common with the other Gryffindors. She couldn't go easily outside her House to find conversation either. Slytherins certainly not; Hufflepuffs she didn't know at all; and that left the Ravenclaws. There were a few acquaintances, but merely study partners, not friends.
So one week before the end of Hermione's time at Hogwarts, she was as she began it: friendless.
Though NEWTs were over, there was no curriculum to plan for the next year, and Hermione wasn't actually required to leave her room until the Leaving Feast, the next morning found her in the library. The lightest reading she was willing to do after the previous day's disaster was Practical Applications of Advanced Runes in the Transfiguration of Protected Materials.
Hermione loved it just for the title alone. It scared away anyone that had the idea of talking to her. The material itself was fascinating, but she wasn't sure how the school could justify such an advanced topic on the shelves even if it was hidden in the restricted section.
Nothing dangerous was covered specifically, but she could read between the examples and see how a phial of unicorn blood could be changed into a biscuit and retain all of its unpleasant qualities. Being transfigured, it would be almost undetectable before ingested, and completely after. Ideas started spinning around in her brain at a speed almost too quickly for her to follow. The applications were almost limitle--
"Hey."
Hermione jumped in her chair, the book flying out of her hands and sending a cloud of dust from between its pages. "Don't do that!" she snapped, trying to get her wildly beating heart under control. She turned to glare at the one who had scared her, but only got to the squinty stage.
"Sorry. Didn't mean to scare you. I just saw the book you were reading and had to come over here. Mind if I sit down?"
A mute nod, eyes still squinted.
"Thanks." The intruder pulled out a chair and sat across the table from Hermione. "So... what are you doing here on a Saturday morning, just a week before the end of school?"
The glare finally set in at the question. "I could ask you the same." Unfortunately, Hermione's glare had no effect on her visitor.
He just laughed. "I suppose you could." He leaned forward suddenly and thrust his hand at her. "Alan Orme. You're Hermione Granger of course." His lopsided grin never faltered.
Thoroughly confused, Hermione shook his hand. "How do you know who I am?" His hand was strong and warm, smooth--that of a scholar and not an athlete.
"You're Head Girl. It's good business to know that. Besides, I know Jamison Jeffries."
Head Boy, from Hufflepuff. Working relationship only. "Oh. He... talks about me?" How embarrassing.
"A little. Mostly about how you go at the meetings about one thing or another. You intimidate him." Still with the smile.
Hermione thought of Viktor's shy smiles for some reason then. "Um, all right then. What can I help you with?" Head Girl's duties were always something she could just slip right into. That made it easier to ignore Alan's slight dimples, the way his blond-ish hair curled under his ear, or his deep, dark brown eyes. Especially the eyes.
"Oh, nothing really. As I said, I saw you reading the book and had to say something. I've never seen anyone read it before."
This shocked Hermione out of her... whatever it was. "You've read it?" Even if he was a Ravenclaw, she was quite impressed.
"Sure. Besides, it wouldn't do to have a Ravenclaw that hasn't read every book in the library, would it?"
At that Hermione managed to smile back. "What made you read this monster?" She had closed it, and let her fingers linger over the cover, caressing the title while she Alan's gaze.
"Curiosity mainly." Alan shrugged and looked a bit... sheepish. "A title like that, I just had to see if it was anything or just a lot of hot air. A surprising amount of history books really don't say much. They--"
"Just repeat each other. I know. Even Hogwarts: A History seems a bit dated."
"Or edited."
Hermione paused, evaluating Alan. "You're upper sixth?"
"I am."
"I've never seen you about before." Not that she really paid much attention to Hufflepuff or Ravenclaw; she had enough worry with keeping Gryffindor and Slytherin in line. Did he never stop with that smile? She was finding it very distracting.
"Puberty. You know, it comes in, sets up shop, and when it finally leaves you're a completely new person." Again the easy shrug and a slow blink of heavy-lidded eyes. "I keep to myself most of the time anyway. Not much into quidditch, never joined the dueling club, just... me."
Yes, puberty had quite agreed with him to Hermione's eyes. He most likely wouldn't be just him for very long. The idea struck her suddenly. "Oh! You wanted... I mean, you were interested... in me?"
"Still am. Are you available?"
Less than a day and the news was well through the school. That was terribly irritating to her. She looked at Alan waiting for her answer. Maybe not so much just this once. "Well... I'm not seeing anyone really, but I don't know if I'm interested in anything so close to the end of the year." Year? End of Hogwarts practically.
"We still have a week. Why don't we just see what happens?"
That was just such a "let's get into trouble" Harry thing to say, but here, Hermione didn't mind it at all. "All right."
"Smashing. Now would you allow me to escort you and your book to breakfast?" Standing now, Alan held his hand out to her.
"I'll just leave the book here, I think," Hermione answered and took his hand. He helped her rise, but did not return the hold. As they walked to the Great Hall, she did not hold his arm and their hands stayed firmly apart. He was serious about nothing happening, which elevated Hermione's opinion of his further.
"So," she ventured uneasily, "you know I broke up with my old boyfriend?"
"I'm afraid it's made the gossip rounds, yes. I don't hold any ill-will toward the fellow, but I did think you two were amazingly unsuited for one another."
Unassuming, laid-back, and insightful... The swoon alert was getting louder, which Hermione thought odd. She's never swooned in her life. "Yes, we are, but at school, you know... It's a bit like make-believe. I don't think most people expect to be with their school sweetheart for the rest of their lives. Especially not in the wizarding world." Uh oh, she was on a roll now and powerless to stop herself. "Why bother so quickly, even if you do end up back together? With a lifespan double of non-magical people, where's the urgency in getting married?"
Alan hummed thoughtfully. "Valid, but if you've met the right person, why not get married?"
"I didn't say not to. I just think if you're not sure, why rush? If you really love one another, it it's meant to be, then waiting isn't that big of a deal. If I were to be just entering my prime child-bearing years--"
"You're not?"
"I am, but if I were only to stay there for ten to fifteen years, I would want to establish a home and family as quickly as possible. As a witch, my child-bearing years are doubled, possibly tripled."
"An astute observation."
TBC on my webpage http://www.thekeep.org/~lara/hp/index.html