Author's Note: I know, I know another new story, especially when it's been a month since my last update. Truly I'm just following where the muse takes me and trying not to force the writing process. It doesn't help that I'm dealing with the fall-out of my mental illness issues, so I beg your forgiveness.
This is a Nevmione story, so I'm sorry to my Dramione fans, I hope you'll give this one a chance. It's going to be delightful and lemony!
As always the only currency I ever ask for is your delightful, loving words in the review section. No review is dumb or tedious, I love them all! I hope you enjoy this story as much as I enjoyed planning it out!
HUGE thanks to lucefray27 for the discussion and support on this plunny!
Also, a friendly reminder if you haven't heard already, I have a facebook group just for my readers where I release some extra info, chapter previews and such. It's /groups/mrsturtlesreaders. Hope to see you there!
'And in the middle of my chaos, there was you.'
Hermione took a deep breath before she raised her eyes to the woman standing before her in the mirror. It was the ten-year reunion of Dumbledore's Army, and exactly one year since her divorce had been finalized, and her entire world had shifted. Long gone was the confident, poised and strong witch who had once helped take down the greatest dark wizard of the age. No, the woman before her struggled in vain to conceal the bags under her eyes, forcing herself to eat one whole meal a day, and had shifted most of her workload to being done at home, so as not to awkwardly run into her ex.
It wasn't that her and Ron's marriage had ended badly. No, in fact, the divorce had ended with as little passion as their marriage had possessed. Ron had finally asked for a divorce when they had gone on their seventeenth straight month without sex, and neither one seemed that bothered by the fact.
"Hermione, could we talk?" Ron asked her, standing in the doorway of her office in their little London flat. His hair was rumpled as though he had just arrived from the floo, but his cheeks were flush with red, and it slowly moved up to his ears—a sign she knew immediately meant he was struggling to keep his courage.
"Of course, is everything ok?" Hermione countered back, her heart beginning to speed up, knowing somewhere in her gut that something was off.
Ron took a seat in one of her brown leather back chairs, as Hermione moved from around her desk to sit in the one across from him. It was a position that both of them were familiar with, he would sit down with a glass of firewhiskey and recount his day with Hermione, proud of his takedown of the remaining Dark Wizards still left in their community, or complain about the difficulties of tracking one. He reached out quickly and grasped both of her hands, his blue eyes finding her brown ones.
"You know how much I love you, right?" He began, pausing long enough for Hermione to nod, "Than know I do this for you, because you're not happy 'Mione. Yes we're great friends, and that's something I never want to change, but we're not like Harry and Pansy, or Ginny and Blaise, we're miserable in comparison. I mean bloody Malfoy is happier than we are, and I don't want that for you, Hermione. But I also know how stubborn you are, and it's taken me the last six months to realize that even though I wanted to give up, you would never give up unless I forced your hand." Ron paused, removing one of his hands to run it through his shocking red locks, his eyes on the floor now. "Oh Hermione, I don't even know how to say this... I want a divorce. But it's not about me, I haven't found anyone or anything, I just… I love you Hermione, but not the way you deserve to be loved."
The memory played in her mind as she stared back into the honey brown eyes of the mirror woman, the same eyes that cried tears every night, still unadjusted to sleeping by herself. She would toss and turn all night, before she would finally make it out to the sofa in front of her fire, falling asleep with a book. Hermione had just stopped living that day—the day Ron finally showed just what kind of man he was, the most loyal and loving friend anyone could ever ask for. They were still friends, but it was a different sort of friendship, it was strained to be sure, especially since after just four months apart, Ron began dating.
Hermione had quickly drowned her anger and sadness at the bottom of a firewhiskey bottle, before Ginny, Hannah and her most unlikely friend, Pansy had ripped the bottle away and threw her in a cold shower. Pansy had sat with her under the cold streams of water, holding her up as she cried until the water and tears ran together. She had even kept her arm around Hermione as she vomited all over their feet, purging her system of the profuse amount of firewhiskey that her ex's happiness had incited.
She had tried her best to get some sleep last night; To at least hide the purplish bags under her eyes for the reunion, but no amount of magic and make-up seemed to hide the cracking facade that had become her daily mask. With a quick final decision, she summoned the black, studded leather jacket she had bought on a whim three months ago, and threw it over her arms in an attempt to conceal just how bony she had gotten in the last few months. It wouldn't do if her friends found out that it wasn't just the cold weather that kept her hiding her arms and shoulders. If she thought the cold shower was a wake-up call, it was nothing in comparison to what would happen if they caught the sight of her shoulder blades in this dress.
With one last glance at her reflection, Hermione nodded and walked to the fireplace. She grabbed a small pinch of floo powder before she called out "Headmaster Snape's office". Stepping into the emerald green flames, she wrapped her arms around herself, trying to stave off the feeling of intense nausea as she spun faster and faster before the fire pushed her out onto the cold stones of the current Headmaster's office.
"Miss Granger, be sure not to track ash across my carpet," Snape said, not even lifting his black eyes from the book he was currently reading.
Hermione rolled her eyes, and with her wand syphoned off the dust and ash that now covered her. "Of course Professor," Hermione replied as she pocketed her wand again. "Thank you again, Professor for allowing me the use of your floo, again."
Severus Snape finally raised his coal black eyes to look over the witch before him. With a quiet noise under his breath, he stood from his chair to stand before her. "You're quite welcome, as the Daily Prophet has set up a photo call of sorts outside the entrance of the school, something about wanting to do a "Where are they now?" article, or some other absurdity. And Miss Granger, while I appreciate this will come as quite the insult, it must be said. You look horrible. I thought you had been using the Dreamless Sleep that I gave you."
Hermione groaned as she shook her head, unable to feel insulted by his quick opinion of her condition, "It makes me feel incredibly hazy in the morning when I wake up."
Severus's eyebrows drew together, "Miss Granger, what time do you take the potion, and what time do you wake up?"
She bit down on her lip because she had foolishly hoped that her old Professor wouldn't ask that question. "I uh… well I… I usually take it around two, and I need to be awake by seven."
Severus' lip curled as he gazed down at his old student, "You know, probably better than any of my other students, that Dreamless sleep requires eight full hours. Miss Granger, you're purposefully being neglectful of your condition, and if you do not take steps to fix it, you'll end up quite as miserable as I am."
Hermione swallowed, unable to keep eye contact with the Headmaster. She nodded, before she spoke again. "Is there anything you could give me right now, so my friends don't notice?"
Severus' eyebrow rose. "It is a very important night, and while I should not help you continue to deceive your friends, I will make an exception, for tonight, Miss Granger."
He turned from her, and Hermione could have sworn that when he glanced at Dumbledore's portrait on the wall, it winked at Severus before pretending to doze off again. She couldn't make sense of the interaction, and Severus quickly continued walking over to his private potions cabinet, as if nothing had happened. He removed three potions, pouring them into a large goblet, before turning back to where she remained, in front of the fireplace. "Drink all of this and be on your way, I need to finish my reading."
Pushing her curiosity to the side, Hermione took the goblet willingly and downed the contents, wincing at the combined flavours, before she handed it back to her old professor. "Thank you again, Professor, I'll be back next week for our meeting."
Severus had already begun moving back to his chair, dismissing her with a wave of his hand as she moved to leave the office. The pair didn't say another word as Hermione closed the door behind her and descended down the staircase, incredibly thankful to have the personal connection to her old Professor that was keeping her from whatever photocall the Daily Prophet had set up outside. She couldn't recall feeling more grateful for anything in the last year, then being free from having to queue up for that absurdity.
On her way up to the seventh floor, Hermione stopped in one of the girl's lavatories to check over her reflection one last time. Thankfully instead of the waifish woman that had shown up just fifteen minutes ago, Hermione saw a healthy, glowing version of herself. One that was sure to prevent her friends from worrying, as long as she kept on her jacket.
Hermione took her time walking up the staircases of her old school, relishing the quiet time she had to just admire the castle itself. It wasn't until she reached the bottom of the staircase leading up to the seventh floor that she caught sight of anyone. Still, in the shadows of the nearest torch, a tall figure moved closer to her, heading for the same stairs that she was. Years of war made her grasp her wand within the pocket of her jacket as they continued to move closer to one another. And just as she was about to remove her wand from her pocket, the person shouted at her.
"Hermione, it's you!" A voice that was so familiar called out, and she stopped walking, waiting until the man finally stepped into the light of the nearest torch. She was suddenly looking into the hazel eyes of her very first friend at Hogwarts, Neville Longbottom. He was not the same boy she remembered from their school days, however, nor was he the same man she remembered from the end of the war—he was so much more.
She swallowed as an unexpected warmth seared her body as he came within arms reach. He reached out, pulling her into his arms and she was suddenly within the confines of his muscular body, pressed hard against his chest. Hermione tried to gain control of her traitorous body, but was rendered helpless when she took in a deep breath through her nose, inhaling the sexiest masculine scent she'd ever smelled, reminding her fondly of the woods.
"Neville! Oh my gosh, is that really you?" Hermione asked when he had released her, and stood, towering over her.
His mouth lifted into a crooked smile that Hermione found absolutely delightful. "Yeah, just got back from my field mission in Romania."
"Wait, were you the one who made that big capture recently? The one that came out of Romania?" Hermione asked as they began to head up the stairs together.
"Well it wasn't just me, I had an amazing team with me, but yes. We found a stronghold of six wizards, who not only had funded Voldemort but were busy creating more spells. We found Dolohov with them, so Britain can finally right that justice."
Hermione could hear the pride in his voice, and she finally realized the biggest change in him—he was finally sure of himself, instead of being the scared kid she had known for almost seven years. The Neville before her was confident, self-assured and proud, though not in an arrogant way.
Hermione stopped when Neville stilled a few yards away from the open doors of the Room of Requirement, "Hermione, it's so wonderful to see you." He pulled her into another tight hug, causing warmth to flood her system again, before he released her, leaving her confusingly bereft. She couldn't explain why the sudden appearance of her old classmate was causing such bewildering feelings in her body, but whatever it was, it was making her feel more alive than she had in years.
To be continued...
