♥BATHROOMS♥
This story is dedicated to SuGaRLiLy, who encouraged me to write this fic, and has been a great friend at the Reviews Lounge
Hermione Granger had a lot of experience with bathrooms, and she hated them.
There was that time in first year, when the troll had attacked. She remembered her asinine, timorous self, cowering under the sinks, frantically trying to remember if one of the numerous bulky books she had read before coming to Hogwarts had contained even the slightest scrap of knowledge about how to defeat such a grotesque creature.
Then Ron and Harry had arrived; much like two characters in one of the Muggle fairy tales Hermione had devoured as a child; the knight in shining armour and his accomplice coming the gallantly rescue the fair maiden from a grim fate. Although, none of those books ever had the accomplice jamming his wand crudely up a troll's nose, nor did the knight in shining armour usually knock out the terrible beast with a trick he learnt from the fair maiden herself.
Then, in second year, she had turned into a cat, right in the bowels of Moaning Myrtle's bathroom. What had hurt more than the shame of being a cat, and the horrid Millicent Bulstrode's cat at that, was that look on Ron's face, the one where anyone who looked at him could tell he was trying not to laugh.
Sometime during third and fourth year the bathroom became a sanctuary for Hermione. Every time Ron displayed his usual lack of shrewdness and said something to aggravate her she would dash off to the nearest bathroom, grab the thickest, most engulfing book she was carrying around at the time, and sit on the toilet seat with it, dabbing at her eyes with squares of toilet paper as she calmed herself.
During her fifth year, the bathroom became a cause for embarrassment. Hermione had just been shedding her robe in the Prefect's bathroom, taking great pleasure in the feel of the crisp winter air on her bare skin, when Ron had stumbled in, mud dripping off him in globules after anther Quidditch practise. He'd mumbled something incoherently and quickly marched out, slamming the door behind him with a bang.
She still had no idea what he'd seen that day, if he'd seen anything at all; they had a silent, but strong pact not to discuss it. The reference t it was so little that even Harry hadn't noticed it; although, if Ron's emotional range was a teaspoon, then Harry's emotional radar would have to be about the same size. Hermione had often wondered what would happen if they did confer about the issue, but as much as she wanted to cross the fragile gap that lay between friendship and something more, she couldn't bare it if he felt differently.
And at the start of sixth year, Hermione had found more reason than ever to hate the bathrooms of Hogwarts. She still remembered exactly how she felt as she sat, inconspicuously, on the toilet, hand clasped to the toilet paper roll, as Lavender and Parvati carried out a conversation in front of the mirrors.
The conversation had been accompanied by Parvati's usual giggle.
"So, do you fancy anyone in our class, Lav?"
"Seamus is still cute and all, but it's like kissing the Giant Squid"
Hermione had been amazed at exactly how shallow her fellow Gryffindors were. Sure, no-one wanted a boyfriend who was a horrid kisser, but she'd always felt that love was more about trust and companionship: being able to confide in someone when you felt as though the world had turned against you and you were sick of dodging its curses, and knowing that they would take everything you told them to the grave. Besides, how did Lavender know what the Giant Squid kissed like?
"Ron's gotten hotter over the summer; I think I might try for him"
As Parvati's irritating giggle announced their departure, Hermione slumped to the ground, only bothering to wobble to her feet when she realised she was twenty minutes late for transfiguration.
When Hermione thought of all the reasons she hated bathrooms, she realised, maybe it wasn't the bathrooms, it was Ron.
Hermione pressed her palms together, indulging in the silky feeling of the soap on her skin. She dried her hands, was just fixing her hair, when, out of the corner of her eye, she spotted Lavender reapplying her makeup meticulously at one of the other sinks. Hermione headed stealthily for the door, hoping she could avoid the girl; she had no wish to talk the girl who was snogging her Ron.
For someone who found subjects such as divination 'woolly nonsense,' Hermione certainly thought that fate was out to get her today. Just as Hermione was exiting the bathroom, Lavender grabbed her, spinning her around.
"Hey, Hermione," she said tentatively, "You like Ron, don't you"
Hermione fought all the rage that was billowing up inside her like a giant puff of smoke.
"N-no-no," she hesitated, hoping that she didn't blush and give herself away.
"You should consider him, you know," Lavender said, knowing full well that Hermione was lying. "He's sweet, considerate, charming …"
Every little bit of pent up anger stirred in Hermione as Lavender continued, rambling about every single saccharine thing Ron had done for her.
Anger welled up inside Hermione, making her want to punch Lavender with rage.
With as much venom as Hermione could muster, she spat out the most spiteful comment she could think of.
"Lavender, you are beautiful, but you are empty. No-one would die for you," she hissed, turning sharply on her heel and storming out, the resonance of her footsteps adding to her dramatic departure.
Hermione expected Lavender to put on a brave face at her words; she certainly expected her to head straight for Parvati and initiate a 'let's bitch about Hermione' session.
But she never expected Lavender to run after her, bawling.
"Hermione," Lavender bawled, her tears dripping onto her uniform, giving the impression she'd just been hugged by a very distraught Moaning Myrtle.
"I … I wanted to tell you that I'm ditching Ron. I've seen the way he looks at you, and it's nothing like he looks at me …"
She was sobbing too hard to continue, so Hermione just patted her shoulder and tried to look sympathetic, but failed miserably.
"It's ok," Lavender said croakily, as she siphoned away the tears with her wand.
"Harry's looking kind of hot nowadays; I'm setting my sights on him"
Hermione marvelled, yet again, at how shallow Lavender could be, and made a mental note to warn Harry as soon as possible.
Hermione scurried down the hallway, late for her meeting with Ernie Macmillan, the Head Boy.
She was just about to tell the Gargoyles the password for Dumbledore's office, when she stopped, hearing a commotion. Two people were in the nearby room, having an argument. She crept to the doorway, listening intently.
"Don't make me shove this potion down your throat"
"What if she doesn't like me?" the second voice replied frantically.
"God Ron, just tell her," replied the first voice.
Ron! Hermione tiptoed away from the door, her heart pounding and her fists clenched in anger. So Ron liked someone else, did he?
"Mione" came Ron's concerned voice.
"Ron," she stuttered, trying to twist away from him as he gripped her shoulder tightly.
"Did you hear anything?" he asked quickly, dragging her into the room, which just happened to be the boys' bathroom.
And just when I thought my day couldn't get any worse, she thought. I wonder if he knows that Lavender's breaking up with him yet.
"Er, Ron," she pointed out. "We're in a boy's bathroom"
"Never mind that. Did you, did you hear what we were saying?" he asked, giving her a look of despair.
She nodded, biting her lip. "Who's the lucky girl?' she asked quietly, wringing her fingers in order to stop them twitching.
He blushed wildly, making him look even cuter in Hermione's opinion.
"You," he mumbled quietly.
"Did you just say Floo?"
Hermione gave him an odd look.
Ron grabbed her and pulled her face down to meet his. It was nothing like a first kiss should be, rough and needy instead of gentle and slow. But to Hermione it was perfect.
"I said you," Ron said, smiling giddily.
"Er, do you want to try that again?"
Five years later, Hermione stood in the bathroom, applying her makeup and preparing herself to walk down the aisle.
She no longer hated bathrooms, and she definitely didn't hate Ron Weasley.
A/N: I am officially ashamed of the ending – I'm hopeless at writing kisses.
This was a challenge at Reviews Lounge. You had to use the quote "You are beautiful, but you are empty. No-one would die for you" in a story! There is a French translation, but I'm too lazy to get on the internet and find it!
Reviews Lounge Pitch: The Reviews Lounge is a community for under reviewed authors, and those wishing to support them. The link is on my profile.
And on that note, Reviews are highly appreciated.
Cuba