Hermione was sick of pity. Ever since Ron died in the Battle of Hogwarts she found that every gaze she met was saturated with saccharine sympathy that she neither needed nor wanted. Even Harry was absolutely insufferable with the way he treated her like glass. Pretty much every single person she knew seemed to be under the erroneous impression that she and Ron had shared some great passionate romance and that she would hardly be able to survive without him. They were dead fucking wrong.
She had never missed anyone, which was what allowed her to obliviate her parents, and Ron was no exception. When he died, she was sorry he was gone, and she was saddened by his family's grief, but she didn't miss him. Even though it had only been a week, having everyone smothering her with attention made her feel much worse about the fact that she couldn't miss her dead friend and it made her want to scream. Well, the unwanted attention coupled with the lack of attention from one particular person, that is.
Ever since Thursday, September 12th, 1996, she had been in love with one Charlie Weasley, and her feelings irritated her immensely. He was eight years older than her, brilliant, brave, and beautiful with a rapier-sharp wit. Of course, the only reason he ever spoke to her was Ron, and of course she was far too young, plain, and swotty for him, which is why every day she wanted to carve her brain out of her skull to stop the never ending barrage of thoughts about him. This tepid May evening was particularly bad, and she could not for the life of her fall asleep.
It was Friday, May 8th, and the memorial would be tomorrow. She could not fall asleep and instead tossed and turned restlessly until the wee hours of the morning. What kept her awake were her racing, circular thoughts that bounced back and forth from Charlie to her guilt about not missing Ron to the Weasleys and Harry. Never had she hated her brain as much as she did now.
It wasn't until she opened her eyes to sunlight streaming in through the windows that she realized she might have been asleep. Or maybe not. She wasn't sure.
'Morning 'Mione,' Ginny's groggy voice greeted her.
'Good morning Gin, how did you sleep?' The redhead made a face at her.
'Better than you, but not much. Your rolling around like an excited puppy made it difficult.' Now it was Hermione's turn to make a face.
'I'm so sorry, I didn't mean to keep you up,' the brunette apologized. Ginny waved her off.
'It's fine, it's not like I would've been able to sleep anyway.' That's when she gave her friend that dreaded look. 'How are you keeping up, by the way?' Hermione greatly resented the tone of her voice, and then mentally smacked herself for being upset at her friend who only meant well, and then she started to feel guilty again.
'I'm perfectly alright, although absolutely famished right now. May we please get some breakfast?' She was thankful when Ginny nodded and got up. The girls were greeted by the delicious scent of pancakes and bacon as they opened Ginny's bedroom door and stepped into the hallway. With matching smiles, they swiftly descended the staircase and strode over to the table, which was piled high with plates, platters, and bowls of food. Harry and some of the other Weasleys were already eating, and Hermione noted, to her disappointment, that Charlie was not among them.
'Good morning Hermione dear,' Molly pulled her into a warm hug, 'How are you doing?' Hermione had to stop herself from groaning in frustration as that damned look settled on her face.
'I'm well, it's been lovely sharing a room with Gin, and your family's hospitality is heartwarming,' she replied sincerely. Even if she hated the looks they were all giving her, she was extremely grateful for their generosity and kindness. Molly beamed at her words, eyes still soaked in pity.
'I'm very glad to hear it. Please enjoy your breakfast and be sure to tell me if you ever need anything at all.'
'Thank you very much,' Hermione shot her a grin before sitting down and quietly exhaling a sigh of relief.
She ate quickly, loathing the glances and careful words and sickening tones that were much more odious and intolerable than usual. The moment she finished, she brought her dishes into the kitchen and raced outside, running until she reached the water's edge. As much as she wanted to go swimming, she stopped herself, knowing that the water would still be absolutely freezing. Instead, she lied on her back, dipping her hand in the icy pond, and watched the clouds float by. She spent hours like that, lying there and thinking, until Harry arrived to tell her it was time to get ready.
With a resigned sigh, she pulled herself to her feet and trudged back inside, up the stairs, and into her friend's room. She put on a modest black dress, hating the color and the itchy fabric, and stockings which she hated even more. Much to Ginny's chagrin, she adamantly refused to put on makeup since eyeliner and mascara felt heavy and itchy and she was already horribly uncomfortable. As soon as everyone was ready, they went outside, and the service began. Ron had been cremated, so Arthur carried his ashes in a simple urn, which must have been difficult with his wife hanging onto his arm with a death grip. Hermione chuckled humorlessly at her ironic choice of words.
The service was simple, anyone who wanted to got up and talked about Ron, one after another without any real structure or organization. She felt awful for all of them, their pain clear and raw in their voices and their words, but she didn't cry at all, except when Charlie spoke. She wasn't quite sure what it was about his speech that made her cry, whether it was the way he managed to maintain his composure the whole time, or the tasteful integration of humor, or simply her own feelings for him. Then, it was her turn. Taking a deep breath, she walked up to the spot in front of the group, and spoke.
'Ron was one of my two best friends, ever since he and Harry saved me from that mountain troll in first year. He was smart, in his own way, and could be absolutely hilarious, but more importantly, he was a caring and loyal person. No matter what we all went through, I knew that he would be there when it mattered most, and that he was trustworthy. It is truly awful for his life to have been cut short the way it was, especially since he was so full of life. However, I wholeheartedly believe he would agree with Dr. Seuss' words of "don't cry because it's over, smile because it happened." For his sake, we should all do our best to keep going and continue to smile and laugh and live, because he would want us to.' She flashed an encouraging smile before walking back to her spot in the crowd.
Hermione was the last person to speak, and while everyone gathered inside for food, drinks, and conversation, she changed out of her dress and returned to her spot by the water as quickly and silently as possible. As soon as she plopped herself onto the grass, her mind was racing. Charlie was leaving for Romania tomorrow, and she wondered if he would ever speak to her again. Ron was the only reason he had ever spoken to her, and now that he was dead, she doubted he would feel compelled to converse with her. She supposed that if and when Ginny married Harry, she could see him at the wedding. Obviously, Molly would continue to invite her to come to the Burrow, but she couldn't stand that blasted expression that graced the faces of most everyone there, and it would be awkward without Ron, especially with Ginny and Harry together.
She didn't belong here anymore, and it didn't make sense for her to try to stay. So, where could she go, then? Her parents were obliviated, Harry had Ginny, and the Burrow was out of the question. Obviously, she would need a job, but even then, she would need a flat or something. What she wanted most was to work in the ministry in the muggle department and work on introducing muggle technology to the magical world. There was no doubt that she could get work in the ministry, after her involvement in the war, but housing would still be an issue. She decided that she would ask Harry if she could live at Grimmauld, but she would only consider living there if he wasn't planning on moving there with Ginny.
When it started to get dark out, she finally went inside, aware that it must be around 8:00, meaning that she had been lying there for eight hours. Sneaking in through the back door, she went straight to the kitchen to get something to eat, since she was famished. She was surprised to see Charlie rifling through the pantry as she entered the room. Hearing her footsteps, he looked up and smiled at her. She hated the way her heart sped up and her stomach knotted as she smiled back at him.
'Hello, Hermione,' she melted at the sound of his rich baritone voice. It was her favorite sound in the world, even more so when he said her name.
'Hi, Charlie,' she greeted him demurely, 'how are you?'
'Well, I guess, all things considered,' he grimaced slightly, 'How about you?'
She started to speak before cutting herself off, frowning, and then opening her mouth again to answer.
'I'm incredibly frustrated, actually.' If he was surprised by her frank reply, he didn't show it.
'How so?' She sighed.
'Every single person in this damn house except for you keeps looking at me with the most infuriating pity, because apparently they all think Ron and I had some great love affair and that I'm absolutely devastated and more fragile than sodding glass. Without Ron, I don't belong here anymore, especially with Harry and Ginny, but since I obliviated my parents' his eyebrows skyrocketed at that bit, 'I don't have anywhere else to go. For right now, I'm planning on asking Harry about living at Grimmauld for a while until I can afford a flat.'
'Well, I know what you mean about my family and the whole pity thing, I've seen it a lot, actually. As far as housing goes, good luck, and I firmly believe that you can do anything, and that you will find somewhere to live.' He smiled reassuringly before biting into an apple and walking out of the kitchen, waving to her. She sighed and ate her cranberry muffin with a glass of water. Snagging an apple, she hurried upstairs to Ginny's room, grabbed her pajamas and a towel, and went to the bathroom, tossing her apple core in the bin before shutting the door.
She took an hour long shower, taking full advantage of the magical water heating system and not caring that there was anyone else in the house. Afterwards, she took her time drying off, getting dressed, and brushing her teeth before returning to the bedroom. Luckily, everyone else was still downstairs, so she didn't have to talk to anyone before falling into bed and drifting into sleep.