Chapter Two: That's What You Get
No, sir...well,
I don't wanna be the blame, not anymore
It's your turn, so take a seat
We're settling the final score...
And why do we like to hurt so much?
I can't decide
You have made it harder just to go on
And why, all the possibilities, well I was wrong...
That's what you get when you let your heart win, whoa!
That's what you get when you let your heart win, whoa!
I drowned out all my sense with the sound of its beating!
And that's what you get when you let your heart win, whoa...
That's What You Get - Paramore
Hermione rummaged through her purse, silently lamenting over her lack of caffeine. She eventually found her keys, and slid the one for her office into its lock and bolted into her office, slamming the door shut behind her and leaning on it with a loud sigh. After catching a bit of her breath, she toed the path to her desk, dropping her purse on the hardwood surface and massaging her temples as she cursed her choice to use muggle security measures as well as magical. She noticed the Witch Weekly header out of the corner of her eye, and started to wonder why it would be on her desk. She didn't read that sort of rubbish. After a moment she realised that obviously someone thought there was something in this issue that would interest her.
Why didn't they give it to me yesterday? she thought. Unless...
15 July, 1999...that's today, she saw as she sleepily checked the date, then after checking her watch realised that she was two hours late for work. Sliding the folders off to the side of her desktop calendar, she saw that she wouldn't have any official business until mid-afternoon, and decided that she had time to read the headlines before getting started. She was already late, what damage could half an hour of so-called journalism do?
Apparently, it can do a lot, especially when the main headline is an announcement that your boyfriend is engaged - to someone else. She flipped the cover open, hiding the shot of Astoria with her painfully princess-like appearance: white teeth, blonde hair, expensive jewellery and the works. Hermione could barely stomach the first paragraph of the article, which was filled with fluff from Astoria's sister Daphne and their parents. Lucius and Narcissa were more contained, as always, and for the first time in recent memory that pleased Hermione immensely. Hermione devoured the article multiple times, until a loud knock on her door caused her to jump clear of her chair. She angrily snapped the door open.
"Oh, you're actually here," Harry said, letting himself in. "Yes, I'm actually here," she sneered in reply. "Why wouldn't I be?"
"Well, Ginny thought you wouldn't have come...apparently there was something in the Prophet this morning that she thought would upset you. She wouldn't tell me much, though, and I haven't had the time to read it myself."
"Well, I'm here."
"I see that."
They stood for a mildly awkward moment of silence.
"Are you sure you're okay, 'Mione?"
"Yeah," she answered softly, unconsciously twirling a strand of hair with her fingers and fighting back tears. Knowing better than to believe her, Harry reached forward and pulled her into a tight hug.
"Well, whatever it is, you can talk to me. You know that, right?"
"Yes, Harry, I'm quite aware of that."
Slightly reluctantly he loosened his grip on her and then left her office, quietly closing the door after himself. A moment after he left, Hermione fell into her chair, bawling, and neglected to wipe any of the tears away, since they were only going to be replaced seconds later. As she heard her coworkers returning from their lunch break, she decided that she'd do better to go home, where she wouldn't have to worry about her colleagues barging in on her. One nerve-wracking conversation with Kingsley later she'd taken a week of personal leave. She stormed away from the Ministry building, Flooing into her flat and collapsing onto her couch. She continued crying until she thought she couldn't cry any longer, then remained on the sofa, fingers straddling her sweaty forehead as her headache grew.
Around suppertime she heard the door open, and remembered that she hadn't locked it when she got home. Her heart sped up, right hand reaching for her wand, but long curly blonde hair and long dark red hair quickly eased her nerves. Aluminum foil-covered plates that smelled of Mrs. Weasley's cooking were set down on her kitchen counter before Luna and Ginny took their respective seats on either side of Hermione.
"I never once thought I'd be jealous of Astoria Greengrass," she muttered.
"I'd swear on a Crumple-Horned Snorkack she's jealous of you, too," Luna told her matter-of-factly, laying her palm gently on Hermione's right knee.
"Come again?"
"The Daily Prophet had more legitimate interviewees. They used Zabini as their main source, who just so happened to mention that his ferrety friend has a girlfriend," Ginny said.
"It's creating about as much buzz as the engagement itself," Luna added.
"Do they have an idea who it is? Oh my goodness..." Hermione exclaimed, springing up from her seat excitedly.
"Zabini claimed not to know her name, so they have next to no information. He just told them how much better you are than Astoria and left it at that," Ginny cut her off, grabbing her flailing forearms in an attempt to calm her.
"He did?" Hermione hesitated, letting her breathing slow back down.
"Yes," Ginny and Luna simultaneously reassured her.
"So what do I do?" Hermione whimpered, glancing between the two. They exchanged nervous glances as well, then Luna spoke up.
"Come on and eat," she asserted, gesturing the others towards Hermione's kitchen. "We'll figure the rest out later."
