Hermione,
I know you probably don't want to hear from me, but I am going to be in town. I want to see you. Can we meet this weekend?
-PP
Hermione stared at the owl waiting for her response. Of all the- it's been three years! She'd moved on. There was nothing more to say. Why did she still do this to her? Hermione picked up her muffin and threw it at the ugly, brown owl.
To her satisfaction, the owl took off out the window. She crumpled the note and threw it into the fireplace before casting Incendio. She sat back in her chair, her morning hunger dissipated, but she still regretted the loss of her muffin. Her eyes closed tightly in agony. The last time she had seen Pansy- well, it wasn't worth reliving.
She was happy now, really. She had to be. It's been so long; Pansy and she did not know each other anymore. There was no reason to see her. The owl deftly flew back in through the window and cautiously approached, holding out the note.
Hermione sighed before reaching out and taking it, mumbling an apology to the now skittish owl.
Please?
Short, to the point, able to twist Hermione's gut: Pansy in brief. Hermione glanced toward the bedroom. As though unable to control her hand, she flipped over the parchment and scribbled, "Noon, Sunday. Franco's. Don't be late."
She handed it back to the owl and returned to brooding. No response came, but Hermione knew what would happen. She knew the emotional toll this would require. She knew how difficult this would be and how helpless she was to stop. Three years without any word had helped her to believe she was over it, helped her to concoct all sorts of wonderful lies and begin anew. She stood furiously and began to cast cleaning charms with precision and force, as though trying to destroy the dishes, counters, and floor with cleanliness.
"Hey there," a voice whispered in her ear as hands wound around her waist. Her body tensed. "What's all this racket? Everything okay?"
"Yeah,I'm fine. Got a missive from work. I'll be gone on Sunday- maybe until Monday."
"Oh, ok. I thought you liked work?" Ernie questioned.
"I do, sometimes. I just hate that the hours are so strange," Hermione lied.
"Then, quit," he told her before flicking his wand at the coffee pot and grabbing a croissant.
"It's not that simple," Hermione sighed. Ernie shrugged and walked back into the bedroom, leaving a trail of crumbs. Hermione quickly banished them and then threw her wand at the table.
Their relationship was not something she was proud of. When Pansy had left her, leaving only a note saying that she wasn't sure if she loved her anymore, Hermione had been a disaster. None of her friends had been able to help because none of them had known.
A few days later, Ernie had asked her to catch a movie with him. One thing led to another, and now they lived in a dull stasis of pretend. Pretend they still had a good relationship. Pretend that the pecks they gave each other were natural and that deeper kisses existed between the two. Pretend that they had a healthy sex life and that they were happy. Pretend that she loved him.
It was all a farce, and one that Hermione hated herself for. Still, it was better than thinking about Pansy. Anything was better than remembering the passion and the life and the love- and the subsequent blinding pain and heartbreak. Hermione still had not been attracted to anyone since Pansy, and Ernie was better than nothing. He was a nice bloke, and somehow, they worked. Even with all the pretend, they could easily make a family. They were still good friends and living together was easy. Hermione couldn't look back. Why had she agreed to meet Pansy?
"Love?" she called out. "I put your green shirt on a hanger in the back!"
"Found it, thanks!" Ernie's call came from the closet. Hermione smiled; they worked. So what if the passion wasn't there?
Sunday came too quickly. At exactly 12:05, Hermione stopped pacing, took a deep breath, and walked into Franco's. The hostess gathered her name and took her to the table where Pansy was already sitting and discussing wines with the waitress.
"Alright, yes. That one sounds lovely," Pansy winked at the server. Hermione gulped as she pulled out her chair and sat ungracefully. Pansy gave her a once over.
"Hello," she said, the corner of her mouth turning up in a wicked smile.
"What do you want?" Hermione said bitterly.
"Why, nothing. Just thought it's been a while," Pansy forced a smile.
After several minutes of silence, Hermione asked, "So, what's new?"
"Oh, nothing really. Still just making my way."
"Are you seeing anyone?"
"No. I haven't seen anyone since you," Pansy frowned. Well, that was interesting.
"Why not?" Hermione questioned, scowling.
"There's no one else," Pansy shrugged. "Are you?"
"Yes. I'm seeing Ernie- Ernie Macmillan."
"Well, that sounds nice." Hermione winced. Pansy quirked an eyebrow at that but didn't otherwise comment.
Conversation remained stilted. Hermione was in agony and consuming large quantities of wine. Pansy was still as attractive as ever and didn't even realise the effect she was having on Hermione. Hermione wanted to know so badly why Pansy had left- why she had talked about their future together and claimed she loved her and then just walked away. Why, when Hermione had sent an owl saying she still loved her and wanted her, Pansy had just responded with an apology and an "I don't feel the same way." Why she wanted to see her now.
A ridiculous amount of small talk and two bottles of wine later, Hermione gathered her courage.
"What do you want, Pansy?"
"Nothing, Hermione. I just wanted to see you again."
"Why did you leave me?" she whispered.
"What?"
"Why did you leave?"
"I was scared," Pansy replied, looking at the table. "I was young- we were young. It was a rough time, right after the war. I wasn't sure if any of it was real."
"What do you mean?"
"I- I was sure it wasn't meant to be. You were in the golden trio. I was a reformed Death Eater. I didn't even know if you saw me as anything more. I- I lied when I said I didn't love you."
"But- you said it again when I sent that owl-"
"I was still afraid. Hermione, I- I still think about you all the time. I can still remember the way you tasted when I last kissed you."
"Pansy! I have a boyfriend! I haven't heard from you in three years! You don't know who I am anymore… I don't know who you are," Hermione gushed, dormant pain lancing through her heart.
"You were sweet, but not like candy. I could taste your hope and your love. I could taste a million promises. A freshness and a passion that-"
Hermione had crossed the table and put a finger to Pansy's lips.
"Please," she pleaded. "Please don't do this to me."
Pansy pulled her finger down. "Hermione," she said, her own pain reflected in her eyes. "My biggest regret in life has been that I left you and let you believe I didn't care about you. I've never wanted anyone else- I've never been with anyone but you. I still love you… or at least who you were, and I doubt you've changed."
"You changed me," Hermione said harshly. "You left me in pieces. I didn't want- I couldn't bear- I won't let it happen again." Hermione turned around quickly, stumbling a little from the wine, and charged out of the restaurant.
She could hear Pansy calling after her, throwing far too many galleons on the table, and beginning to rush out. Hermione didn't feel safe Apparating in her tipsy state and rushed down the street to get away. She rushed into a shop with a Floo and asked to use it to get home. Just as she gathered a handful of powder into her hand, she felt fingers encircle her wrist.
"No."
"You can't tell me I can't go home."
"It can't end this way," Pansy pleaded.
"No, you're right," Hermione said sharply. "It ended with you walking out on me three years ago."
"Hermione, please-" Pansy glanced around frantically, trying to find a way to make Hermione stay. She finally pushed Hermione up against the wall, trapping her with the force of her body. "You can't- Hermione, I know you feel the same way."
"No," Hermione whispered, tears falling down her cheeks. She turned her head down to stare at the floor, her wrist held above her head, hand still clasping Floo powder, and body trapped by Pansy's. "Pansy- I can't let you ruin me again. Please!"
Pansy stepped back and released her wrist. "Hermione, I am so sorry. Please. I love you."
"Stop it! I can't- go away! Please, no more… I can't do- no more," she sobbed. She dropped the Floo powder on the floor and grasped the sides of her head before sliding down the wall.
"Hermione- I am unbelievably sorry. I want to try this aga-"
"Is everything okay?" the shopkeeper asked the two women.
"Yes, fine," both replied quickly. She shook her head but scuttled away.
"Hermione-" Pansy began again, reaching her hand out to stroke Hermione's hair.
"Don't touch me!" Hermione said fiercely, sound muted by her knees. Pansy pulled her hand back as though she had been burned.
"Tell me you don't love me, and I'll go."
"I don't love you," Hermione mumbled.
"Look at me and tell me you don't love me," Pansy sighed.
"No!" came the loud mumble. "I can't," was whispered so quietly Pansy almost missed it.
"Hermione," Pansy said tenderly. "Let me love you. I promise I won't leave you again, ever."
"Why should I believe you? You've lied before," Hermione said, the sounds still muffled by her legs and quiet sobs.
"I'm so sorry. Please believe me," Pansy pleaded, her arms stretched towards Hermione but afraid to touch the already upset girl. "I shouldn't be able to get a second chance, but I can't- I don't want to be without you anymore."
"I gave you a second chance," Hermione looked up now. "You threw it back in my face. I've moved on."
"I don't think you have," Pansy smiled sadly. "I haven't either." Hermione seemed to be evaluating.
Pansy took advantage of Hermione's ability to get lost in thought and her slightly relaxed posture to move forward quickly. She roughly kissed her, capturing her lips in a battle for lost love. Pansy grabbed Hermione's cheeks and moved her lips across Hermione's, delighting in the taste and feel. It had been so long, and this felt so right.
Hermione was caught off guard but quickly found herself responding to the passionate declarations pressed against her lips. This was the feeling of completion that she had never thought she'd find in anyone again. This was the feeling of finally having the perfect lover. Pansy's tongue forced its way into her mouth, and Hermione readily stroked it with her own. She felt deliriously happy and satisfied.
This was the way things should be. No, wait, Hermione could not bear to have this now and lose it again. Not when she had someone she might learn to love. The loss of this again would be too much- she would surely be destroyed.
Hermione pushed back, breaking the kiss and panting. Pansy was flushed, and her eyes remained closed for a few minutes, delighting in the lingering feeling.
"I- I can't do this! I love you too much. I have to go," Hermione muttered. She quickly stood, grabbed some Floo powder, and said "Grenmore" before disappearing in a cloud.
Pansy looked into the Floo. "It's not over yet, Granger," she mumbled.