Disclaimer: I do not own any of the characters or world of Harry Potter.
Hermione sat at the bar, her finger rimmed the top of her glass idly as stared into the crowd. To any observer it would have appeared that she was in a trance, mesmerized by the pulsating crowed that occupied the dance floor. But in her mind, her thoughts weren't focused on those around her, nor were they focused how much alcohol she had consumed in the short thirty minutes she had been there.
No, her thoughts focused on what a mess her life had become. In the few short years after leaving Hogwarts, she had managed to push away every friend she had in one way or another. She had broken not only one innocent heart, but two. And it wasn't that she despised her job, eventually it would take her to a place in her career where she wanted to be, but when would that happen? The constant uncertainty of the future and unpleasant images of the past kept her coming back to the mediocre bar in Muggle London, where she currently sat in hopes ridding herself of such thoughts.
Hermione sat in the Gryffindor Common Room. It was a lovely spring afternoon. She worked on her Advanced Potions essay as she waited Ron and Harry to return from their Quidditch practice. Normally she'd make the journey out to the pitch to observe and be supportive of her boyfriend Ron, but she really needed to finish this essay, or experience the wrath of Snape.
As soon as the portrait door opened, Ron trudged through the door, looking absolutely exhausted, followed by Harry and Ginny.
"Hullo love", said Ron as he collapsed on the couch next to Hermione. Harry and Ginny followed suit on the opposite couch.
It wasn't long until the four were immersed in deep conversation, and even though it centered around Quidditch, Hermione didn't mind. In fact she welcomed the distraction from her essay. As the boys became more intense, focusing on plays and strategy, Hermione became bored and let her eyes wonder the Common Room, in hopes of another welcomed distraction. When she looked in Ginny's direction, she had expected her to be just as focused on the boys conversation, but was taken completely off guard when she noticed Ginny was staring at her in a way that confused Hermione, and left her feeling slightly uncomfortable.
Hermione wouldn't exactly call Ginny a good friend, in fact they had never really confirmed or denied that they were even on a level to call each other friends; merely acquaintances. They didn't share any classes as Ginny was a year younger and their interests could not have been any more different. As far as Hermione was concerned if she hadn't been Ron's younger sister or Harry's love interest, the two would've never had any interaction other than passing in the corridors or dormitories.
Days had passed since that meeting in the Common Room, and Hermione had chalked it up to her mind just over reacting, though in the few days that had passed, she could have sworn she felt the younger red head's eyes lingering on her more than normal. Hermione couldn't explain it, but like the first time it had happened, every time it left her feeling awkward and uncomfortable. But how does one bring up such a ludicrous topic, for all she knew it was just her imagination running wild.
Two weeks later at breakfast, Hermione knew that it was not her imagination. Something strange was going on, but she couldn't really quite place it. As the owls flew in above the Great Hall, a barn owl dropped a copy of the Prophet onto the table besides Hermione. Immediately, Ginny leaned across Hermione to make a grab for the newspaper, but in doing so she used her hand to brace herself on Hermione's inner thigh. Though the innocent action was brief, Hermione couldn't help but wonder why Ginny's hand lingered on her thigh, briefly playing with the hem of her skirt, before turning her attentions back the Daily Prophet. And though she would never voice it, it concerned her that that small action had left her even more uncomfortable, in more ways than one.
Hermione's attention was brought back to present day as Tim, the bartender placed another drink in front her. The brief memory left Hermione longing for the days when she was naïve and life wasn't so difficult.
A/N: This is my first bit of writing ever done for non-academic reasons. It's a story I've had in my mind for quite some time now. Any reviews, thoughts, or constructive criticism is welcomed. Thanks!