The Day After Yesterday
She doesn't know how to tell people that she's lonely. She doesn't know how to say that she isn't happy. Mostly because she doesn't understand it, herself. She should be happy. Everyone around her is so happy, she should be too.
Five years after the war ended, and she's happy to be alive. She's happy those closest to her survived the war with her. But that was all. For a while, she'd thought she'd found perfect happiness, but… but perfect happiness wasn't perfect, and it wasn't happy. It wasn't sad, or angry, or hateful, or anything like that. It just wasn't happy. It was boring. It was content.
She wished there was someone she could talk to. She couldn't talk to Harry, because he was Ron's best friend, and though he was her best friend as well, she didn't want to put him in the middle. They had done that to one another far too many times in the past, and she wouldn't do it again, if she could help it. She couldn't talk to Ginny, who'd been one of her closest friends for a long time now, for the same reason she couldn't talk to any of the Weasleys: because they were Weasleys. She considered approaching Luna, or even Neville, but she knew that the conversation would be fruitless; they couldn't understand.
So she left. She packed a bag; everything she owned easily fit into one small pouch, once she cast an extension charm. In the middle of the night, while Ron was fast asleep, she just got up, grabbed her things, and left. She had wanted to leave a note, to tell him something. But she didn't know what she would say. She didn't know what to say, she didn't know how to explain what she was feeling. And, as unhappy as she was, she didn't want to hurt him. She was hurting enough him by leaving, she didn't need to tell him why.
In truth, she really had no idea where she was going. Where could she go? Every friend she had was in some way connected to Ron, making things quite difficult for her.
In the end, she found herself wandering through Muggle London. Despite it being nothing like the Magical World – no, perhaps it was because it was nothing like the Magical World – Hermione found herself smiling. She took a deep breath, inhaling the scent of her surroundings. The whole world smelled different. It smelled like home, like the place she'd been away from for far too long.
"Hey there," a voice familiar voice said from behind her.
She turned in shock to face the Weasley Twin.
"Fred?" she asked hesitantly. "George?"
"Fred," he answered. "So, what brings you 'round these parts?" he asked, gesturing to the busy streets.
Hermione opened her mouth to answer, but found that no words would come.
"You've been gone for over a week. Ron's been frantic. Mum's been frantic. Oh, hell, everyone is."
"I didn't… I didn't mean to worry everyone," she said. "I just…"
"It's okay," he said. "I understand."
She breathed a sigh of relief. She didn't know how to explain herself properly, and as much as she hated the feeling of being at a loss for words, she was grateful he wasn't asking for them.
"Come on," he said, offering her his arm. "Let's get some coffee."
She linked her arm through his, and allowed him to lead her to a coffee shop that sat on a nearby corner. They sat down at a table and an elderly waitress came to take their order. The whole situation was so bizarrely normal that she actually laughed.
"It's good to hear you laugh," he smiled. "It's not something we hear very often. Despite our best efforts."
"Two vente lattes for the happy couple," the waitress said, setting their drinks down in front of them and walking away.
"See, even she thinks you look happy. The couple bit was a tad off putting, though," he added.
"I just couldn't do it anymore," she exclaimed several minutes later, finally giving into the intense stare he's been shooting at her for the better half of five minutes.
"What's that?" he asked, though she could see in his eyes that he at least partially knew the answer.
"Pretending to be happy," she said quietly. "I love Ron," she added hastily. "I really do, but…"
"I understand," he assured her. "After the war… it was hard for everyone. We all had this feeling… the need to, I don't know, to love, to be loved. After everything that happened, all the people we lost, we all needed to be around those who survived. I remember George… everyone thought I was dead and… and for months after the battle, George would not let me out of his sight. He followed me everywhere. No one else really noticed, but I could tell how he felt. He's my twin, I always know. That's how it was for all of us. We needed to be with the ones we loved, because they might not have been there the next day. Even with Voldemort gone, gone for real, we all had this feeling that he wasn't gone, that some way, some how, he would find his way back.
"So we all wanted to make the best of what we had, to make sure that if he came back, we wouldn't die with regrets. Harry and Ginny were together for nearly a year before they realized it wasn't what either of them wanted. Honestly, I'm surprised you and Ron have lasted as long as you have."
"You-" she started.
"I think we all kinda saw the end for you two a long way back. I'm not saying it to poke fun at Ron, or anything like that. I'm saying it because of you. You are so brilliant. And that's wasted on him. There are so many things, wonderful, amazing things, that you could do with your life. And he's holding you back. You need to go out into the world, and so something. Do something that makes you happy, and then maybe you can settle down and have a family and all that other domestic stuff."
He took a last sip of his coffee and stood up. With a last smile at her, he walked away.
Hermione sat there for a few moments, pondering the speech he'd given. Finally, she let a smile creep onto her face. She leaned back in her chair and enjoyed her coffee.
France was supposed to be lovely this time of year.