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The next morning, amidst jitters and giggles, Hermione prepared herself for one thing. That meeting at noon. She just couldn't wait. Though teaching might not have been the first thing she'd thought of, those long years ago when traveling the world seemed feasible, she wasn't broken down enough to pass this up. So in high hopes she quickly packed her things, knowing, she guessed, that Ron wouldn't be walking in to stop her. And funnily enough she didn't care. She walked over to her dresser, grabbing all the little trinkets she had over the years. This is what stopped her. She glanced at them, all the little things Ron had given her when being around her was enough.
For a half second, she wanted to keep them. All her old feelings rushing back as she stared at her old life. But something in her awoke just then. Something she didn't know she had. It was strength. She walked over to the bin and dropped the trinkets there. She finally felt a burden lift from her, like she'd been held down this entire time. She was light, airy. No more crying in the night, no more fearing that she'd be alone. God, this felt right.
She finished packing and shrunk her things, placing them in her pocket. She'd just forget about all of this. Besides, when, because she knew she would, she got this job, whichever one it was, the hectic lifestyle of teacher wouldn't let her focus on things like broken promises. She'd just be swept away in the tide of change. And she hoped she got lost in that sea, hoped against hope that she'd never have to focus on Ron again.
She glanced at the clock. It was 9:40. Why did time always move so slow when you wanted something? Hermione checked the house again, making sure nothing was left behind. She saw nothing, so she headed out the door. She hoped her friends would understand. She hoped that when Ron came home and saw she was gone, he'd leave it at that. She didn't want a formal goodbye. She wanted this to stay just as it was. He fell out of love with her long before she realized it.
Hermione nodded at the sunrise. She was finally doing something she should of done years ago. Something she should have realized was right. And as she walked out the white picket fence Ron had set up when he thought they were true love, her heart filled up and she let a few tears fall down her cheeks. Not sad tears, no, those tears were the happiest tears Hermione had ever let fall. She started laughing, her tears flowing faster as she let the freedom sink in.
Her neighbor looked at her funny, but Hermione could care less about what other people thought. She knew what she was doing was the first step to the rest of her life. And, contrary to what she might of thought yesterday, she was more than ready. She looked at neighborhood she come to find a prison and smiled.
"Bye." She softly mumbled as she twirled and Apparated away.
He was walking up those childish moving staircases with such anger. How dare that hag say he wasn't in good enough condition to teach! He could hex that little smirk she had on her face with a glare. She'd let him keep his rooms, telling him to pack everything just in case. As though some little twerp was going to take his position! No, he wouldn't allow it. He'd fight tooth and nail to stay. It wasn't for the money, it was sheer pride. He had survived Voldemort's rule, had been set free from Dumbledore's watch and had even got over Lily. He saw, for some weird reason, her face when he was laying on that floor in the Shack.
He turned his thoughts away from her. He knew what they would bring. He instead thought of Voldemort, nothing cancels out pain but pain. He thought of when he first went into his service. He had truly believed that Voldemort had some sort of idea. That through some higher calling he knew what must be done. And to tell you the truth, he believed all the crap he was fed. Guess that's what he get's for believing. He didn't even think there was something wrong when he was beaten, when Voldemort continuously told him he was nothing. He let himself believe it. Let himself be led by a chain and told what he could and couldn't do. God had he been naive. He regretted it now, letting Voldemort have so much power over him.
It wasn't as if he could go back. And now that he thought of it, why would he want to? He'd paid his price for what he wanted. He'd fought all the pain and had survived. Some might call him lucky. He surely didn't think so. If he was lucky, he would have fallen like all the others. He would have laid on that floor and died. But he didn't, his natural survival instinct kicking in as he used his well learned talents. He wasn't a potions master and double spy for nothing. They didn't run to him as a last resort, he wasn't a cleaner. When they went to him, they wanted things done. And they got them done.
He stepped off the moving staircase as he made his way back to the Headmistress' office. He knew why she was doing this. She was punishing him for all he'd done. As though being here at all wasn't punishment enough. He'd suffered through Potter, why couldn't he just be left alone?
He entered her office and saw she was gone. After scouring the whole area he sighed. He'd have to find her later.
A/N: Please R&R!! Tell me if there are any mistakes, song problems or the like! Thanks for reading!