[This is a 30-day collection full of Hermione pairings. I'm starting about one-third of the way into December, so I expect this collection to last into January. But my goal is to post one drabble/oneshot per day. We'll see how it goes...]

Day 1: Grab the first random book that you can find and copy down the last sentence of the story and use it as the first line of your story.


1

Hermione/Regulus

"Words"


I love you. Remember. They cannot take it.

I open my eyes with those words still bouncing around my head, as if they had been planted there and left to sprout overnight. I can immediately tell that my brain has been reliving the events that he caused not long ago. Although, now that I gaze into the looking-glass and see the dark circles under my eyes, I have some doubts that I've really slept at all this past week.

Hands roam across a nightstand, and feet slip into ill-fitting slippers that they know are unecessary; the heat is cranked up to the highest setting possible. But I am a creature of habit, and habits there shall be, until the day I die.

First, coffee.

I am in a daze as I measure spoonfuls of the ground black stuff and dump them into the machine. Regulus was always a culinary snob, but I liked that. Three months of my life with him changed every notion I had about food and drink since I was born. Even now, I'm stuck in my ways, and don't dare reach for the Splenda packets when my cup is full of a steaming drink. That isn't the way he would have done it.

It occurs to me that these everyday things, these routines that keep me sane, are not courses of action. They do not lead me to the man that left me behind because he was afraid. Perhaps I am only wasting time as I wrestle with the conversations we had and promises we made together, words that blew away in the wind the moment he was gone.

By now, my cup is empty, and I'm too tired to make more. This, I realize, is how my days slip away. They start out with trepidation, and end with a resounding feeling of failure when I come home alone. Again.

Somehow, somewhere, I'm going to find him.


I love you. Remember. They cannot take it.

You know, I meant those words. I meant them just as much as the first and fiftieth times I told Hermione that I loved her, and the other parts just the same. But there was no time to explain, or right the wrongs that were beyond my understanding.

How do you explain that you aren't star-crossed lovers?

Or, actually, how do you tell someone that you are?

Our families aren't alike in dignity, unfortunately, but it's true that they're not good matches. I knew from the start; I was just too weak to act. In the first days of something, you don't tell a girl that everything you love about her incites hate from your mother. You don't tell her about the multiple violent felonies your cousin committed.

I regret those words with every bit of my soul, and it doesn't matter. It couldn't matter less. Because she's gone, far away, beyond imagining. She's in another world. That's what I tell myself every day, and that is how I live - in constant mourning for the woman I've lost.

Today, I sit alone in a café, scanning the headlines, and sitting upright whenever a brunette walks by.

It's never her.


I love you. Remember. They cannot take it.

I can't help it; those words are still on the tip of my tongue whenever I speak. It's Saturday, so I'm free from work, and I say them to myself as I walk down random streets, heading nowhere. I'm letting the city wash over me in hopes of finding some clue, some insight as to how I will win my boyfriend back. Each whisper encourages me to keep going, keep looking.

But I'm losing daylight, and warmth. So I round a corner on a familiar street, slip inside an old favorite coffee shop, and seat myself at an inconspicuous table for two.

The waitress forcibly introduces me to a glass of water before turning on her heel and hurrying back to the kitchens. I pause for effect, then drink.

It's incredible how different these places are when you're by yourself. He and I used to come here for quick breakfasts on weekdays, or laugh at friends during the informal karaoke nights. He would point at the specials, and suggest we try them. I was never brave enough. I'm a toast-and-tea kind of girl.

So I order a sandwich, eat it, and spend an hour scrolling mindlessly on my phone, making a concerted effort to avoid snapshots of he and I - back when things were happy, and easy.

I'm searching for the waitress again, about to ask for the check, when my eyes skip over somebody across the room, and then jump back to the man's side profile.

"Regulus," I say, too loudly. The people in between us turn their heads in surprise, but I have eyes only for him. He's staring at me in shock, having heard my exclamation.

I can't make my legs move, and upon further thought I'm almost glad of it. This isn't how I was supposed to find him. Not here, not now. He told me I would never see him again, and I began to believe it.

As I sit there, helpless, he has made his way over to me, abandoning his chair and food.

"Hermione," he says, and it sounds like an apology. But I say nothing. "Hermione, I can explain."

How? How can he possibly explain this?

I've been imagining this moment for days, but I'm afraid of what will happen if he's not the man I thought he was.

"You broke up with me by text," I force out. "You said there was nothing you could do, that something had happened, and we could never see each other again."

He looks like he's about to jump into some long explanation, but I cut him off. "But here you are, lounging here and having a wonderful time, I bet. So what could you possibly have to say?"

"I'm sorry. That's the very first thing I want to say." He looks at me with those soft, clear eyes, those eyes that I know so well.

I have no choice but to stop, and give him a chance.

"I wanted to stay with you. You know that I did." He corrects himself. "That I do."

"I don't know anything. I miss you, Reg, but I miss the old you, the person who I loved and who loved me back. But if you really cared, you wouldn't have-" I gesture vaguely. "-wouldn't have done this."

"They threatened to cut me off, Hermione. It was stupid of me, I know, but I told them about you. I was tired of keeping you a secret."

"What do you mean, they?"

He closes his eyes. "My parents."

A beat of silence.

"You never let me meet your family," I whisper.

"They're..." he begins, then cuts off. "They're very strict. And apparently, they get to decide who I can be with. They... didn't react well to hearing I was involved with someone less wealthy than I am."

"That's not fair-"

"I know it's not, and I don't think that way," he says, running a hand through his hair. "But my mother, particularly, took it badly. And she swore on the House of Black that I would never see you again. They've been trying for days to keep me locked in their mansion, the place I grew up."

"The House of Black?"

He rolls his eyes. "We're an old family. It doesn't matter."

"Oh." I bite my lip, and take a deep breath. Finally, I'm beginning to understand what really happened that day, and I know that all my worrying has been for nothing. I did nothing wrong- and, come to think of it, neither did he.

"Hermione?"

"I called you, that night. I got a busy signal dozens of times, but I kept trying. I left messages everywhere, but you never picked up."

Regulus lets out a laugh, then slaps a hand across his mouth, but it doesn't completely cover up the sound. "I'm sorry. I-I dropped it in a public toilet."

"Really?"

He nods, and I can't help it; I start laughing as loud as him. The waitress is staring - the people are staring - the passers by occasionally take note, since I'm facing the window and my face is red. But somehow, all the anger, fear, and sadness I've built up the past week evapor ate, and all I can do is laugh.

We talk for two hours, until the owner kicks us out.

I offer to let him stay at my place.

We find a shirt of his in my closet, and some old sweatpants that drown me, and he sleeps on the couch - per his own suggestion.

The next morning, I wake up with my mind blissfully silent.