The fireplace in Hermione Granger's kitchen flared to life in a burst of green flame. An angry figure stormed from the grate, her curly hair sticking out like frazzled corkscrews from her head and her clothes clutched to her nearly naked chest. After being left in Severus' quarters it had seemed pointless to climb back into her date clothes. So furious was she that she had barely managed to refrain from destroying the man's quarters in the time it took her to pull on her underwear. Hermione threw her rumpled clothes onto her kitchen counter and angrily thrust her kettle under the tap. But even the cool metallic ting of the water hitting the bottom did nothing to soothe her frazzled nerves and she slammed the kettle back onto its base and flicked the switch, daggers still shooting from her eyes at anything in her path. Crookshanks lifted himself up onto chubby, arthritic legs and jumped down from the wooden kitchen chair he had been snoozing on. It wouldn't do to get caught in the crossfire.
Hermione stared at her kettle willing it to begin whistling the irritating tune of an imminent caffeine hit. But it remained motionless, light bouncing off it's metal casing and into her eyes. Wanting to take out her anger Hermione slammed the small yellow curtains at the kitchen window closed and sighed in the new darkness of the room. The obnoxiously happy wallpaper (a yellow flowered design she had picked out in a fit of good humour) was difficult to make out without the light from the morning sun and Hermione closed her eyes as she leaned heavily against the counter in the dark.
How could he do this? She was nice enough, wasn't she? She was curvy and modest, quiet some of the time and she was very polite. Hermione felt her face with pale, shaking fingers. She wasn't a hag, was she? What else could he want?
The kettle finally began to whistle and Hermione padded across her honey coloured floorboards to the little white cupboard across the kitchen and pulled out her favourite mug. She continued to move around in the dark, her date underwear (an all frills and no support affair) the only things protecting her from the elements of her small cottage in the middle of a summer heatwave. The whistling from her kettle grew obnoxiously loud as she dropped a teabag and some sweetener into the stripy blue chipped mug. She stared down at it contemptuously; her love of it was probably just another thing that made Severus think she wasn't good enough to be his girlfriend. The kettle clicked and automatically Hermione lifted it from its base and poured some into her mug. As she clinked a teaspoon against the edges of the china she stared at her drawn curtains and became lost in thought.
Why didn't he want her?
Hermione sighed and put her head in her hands. When did she become that pathetic girl who mooned over the men in her life? She was supposed to be better then this. Unbeknownst to her, green flames suddenly sprang up in her fireplace and a pink haired woman stepped out gingerly, and peered into the dark.
"Hermione?" Tea spilt across the counter and her favourite mug crashed down onto the floor as Hermione jumped a foot into the air.
"Not again!" Said woman grinned sheepishly and stumbled across the kitchen to her younger friend. She crouched down and began to pick up the pieces of the ruined mug.
"Sorry. I know. I know. I should wear a bell." She smiled apologetically at Hermione as she extended her legs and dumped the mug on the counter. Hermione began to search herself for her wand before realising she wasn't wearing any clothes. She blushed and ran across to the her kitchen door, pulling a robe off of the pegs next to it. "Date underwear, Hermione?" The blush increased as she deftly knotted the fastenings on her robe and span back around to face an intrigued Tonks.
"No. Can't I look nice for myself?"
"It's obviously for the Mystery Man that you refuse to tell me about. Don't worry I won't pry. So... what did you say his name was again?" Hermione raised an eyebrow at Tonks and walked forward to pluck the wand out of the back pocket of the crazy woman's jeans. She fixed the mug and siphoned the tea off of her counter.
The two friends moved around each other making another batch of tea in comfortable silence. Tonks' visits were such a usual occurrence that they had developed a strict schedule.
1. Tonks breaks something.
2. Hermione cleans it up.
3. They make tea.
4. Tonks begins to bug Hermione about her Mystery Man.
As you can see this visit is travelling along this pattern very comfortably.
"Hermione, we're supposed to be friends. How can you keep something like..."
"Tonks, there is no mystery man." They sat across from each other at the table, staring each other down, waiting for the other to crack. An event both knew would never come. Tonks silently took in Hermione's ruffled sex hair and her mouth, currently wrapped around her big blue mug but still swollen and red. It was just so incredibly obvious. Why bother hide it?
"Tell me."
"No."
"Tell me."
"No!" Hermione sighed and swirled her finger in her milky tea. Sugar granules swirled on the surface. Tonks didn't make tea. Tonks made sugar and milk with a side of flavoured water. Memories of her perfect cup of tea, gone forever, swam before her eyes.
"Tell me!" Hermione had been under the misapprehension that marriage to Remus Lupin would calm Tonks down slightly. But as she looked over the rim of her stripy mug at the pink haired woman, chanting her plea over and over in a weird sisters t-shirt and cut off jeans she knew Tonks just wasn't the settling down type.
"Tonks! Calm yourself." Hermione winced as she realised she had used her Snape tone. Six months with the infuriating man had rubbed off on her and at times she had to catch herself not to quote him or betray their relationship in any other way. As far as people knew she hadn't spoken to Severus in years.
Tonks stared at her suspiciously for a second, she was obviously trying to figure out why Hermione had seemed so familiar all of a sudden...
Hermione bit her lip, waiting for Tonks to pounce. But suddenly the sparkle of wonder left Tonks' eyes and she pouted down into her tea.
"Hermione, we're supposed to tell each other everything." Hermione scowled inwardly; how dare she try to guilt trip her?
"I'd never lie to you." Sadness began to itch away at her conscious; this was her friend. She shouldn't have to lie to her because of an arse like Snape. Hermione stood up and turned away from Tonks. She tipped the milky sludge in her mug down the sink and pulled a brave smile onto her face. "In fact, if you happen to meet any dashing young men who you think I might like... I'd be very grateful." Tonks grinned happily and launched into a laborious description of Mike from the Auror Office. Smart and funny. Just her type. He'd been wanting to meet her for simply ages.
Hermione slipped back into her seat and smiled at Tonks. Nodding at the right moments and making appreciative noises. She knew she was treating Tonks terribly but Snape had knocked her for six and it was taking every ounce of her being not to burst into tears, let alone be patient with Tonks.
"Oh it's going to be so much fun." Hermione zoomed back into the conversation in horror. What did she just agree to? "We'll have a great laugh. I'll dress you up and we'll hit all the best clubs."
"No, actually Tonks I don't really think it's my scene." Tonks round, freckly face dropped and she reached out to grab Hermione's hand.
"You have to come. Hermione everyone else is out of town and we never spend time together any more. Clubbing is fun." Hermione gulped in horror. She had agreed to 'clubbing'? Wasn't that what Harry and Ron did at the weekends? Hermione thought back in horror to the state she had found the duo in ust a few days before.
"No I'm sorry. I just remembered that I'm busy that night." Hermione was finally calm, all of her planning the night before was coming back. She had been being silly; it would be easy to make Severus want her as a girlfriend. It was just a matter of logic.
"You have to."
"Tonks..."
"No!" Tonks jumped up from her chair with a big grin on her face. She stuck short, black nail varnish coated fingers in her ears and ran towards the floo. "If I can't hear you, you can't cancel."
"Tonks..."
"La la la la." Tonks dropped a handful of floo dust into the grate and disappeared still singing at the top of her lungs.
Hermione sighed with exhaustion and dropped her head into her hands. She really didn't have the energy for this. With her fresh resolve suddenly dying again she stood up to put the kettle on.
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A.N: Hello. Wow I'm rather terrible at updating, aren't I? Sorry about that. I've been having a confidence crisis and couldn't write anything. I rather want your opinion on this because I'm at a bit of a crossroad in life and I can either take the English route, the Politics/History route or the Botany route. I don't really want to go anywhere; I'm very comfortable on my nice little green hillock with the word 'indecision' written across it. But the big bad wolf named Reality is coming for me and I need to make a decision.
So is English a good idea?
