Chapter 9
Hermione knew that she was asleep, though not how or why. She was surrounded by thoughts that urged for her attention and observation; memories, mostly. She pushed sluggishly through those memories that crowded her head. Ron's face was everywhere, and that made her smile, because she felt like she hadn't seen her friend in the longest time. Despite the happiness the memories brought her she hurriedly and hastily pushed through them. The one whom she was searching for wasn't in these early memories, and she needed to find him.
She remembered bursting into the train compartment that September afternoon. It was the first time that she had ever caught a glimpse of his red hair and freckles, and though she liked the way his nose wrinkled when he smiled she knew that she was looking for someone else. Hastily she moved forwards, leaving that little freckled boy behind.
She was hiding in the bathroom, with the stall door locked behind her. She had cried until she had no more tears left to cry. When Hermione had first discovered that she was a witch she had thought she had finally found her freedom. In the muggle world she had been odd, overlooked and bullied; at last she thought she'd have some friends. Yet here too she was teased and taunted, and she couldn't run to the safe arms of her mother for comfort. She hated that boy Ron Weasley.
Then, suddenly, in a great whirl of noise, fear and with an atrocious smell came the troll, so huge and hulking. She was alone and weak, her magic and calm logic having long deserted her. She began to scream.
Ron Weasley was there in an instant, with Harry Potter by his side. Valiantly they fought to rescue her from the troll, and Ron looked so apologetic that in that moment she couldn't help to forgive him. It had been as though they were destined to be friends, whether they wanted it or not.
His arms were strong, his smile bright and his words sweet. The Bulgarian Seeker swept her across the dance floor in his arms, and she felt like a princess. Yet even in that moment, in a beautiful blue dress, watched so closely by a lovely kind young man, she couldn't help but think of someone else.
As thoughts of Ron Weasley raced around her mind she looked up across the room and saw him sat to one side. His date was forgotten, and he was glaring jealously in her direction. She wondered if he was jealous of her because she was dancing with his hero, but she dared to hope that he was jealous of Viktor instead. Wouldn't it simply be wonderful if Ron just wanted to dance with her?
Her hoping was in vain. The jealous rage that Ron had worked himself into had made him nothing but unreasonable. He had ruined her special evening. By the time she made her way up to bed she no longer felt like a princess; she was simply Hermione again, the girl that nobody would ever want.
In that moment of Ron's victory Hermione rejoiced. Many a time she had celebrated with Harry and Ron their victories over great evil, but that had only ever brought a feeling of relief, not elation. The simple victory of having her friends win a Quidditch match made her spirit soar like nothing else.
As she watched one of her dearest friends being lifted into the air by his teammates Hermione's heart beat faster. He beamed, he laughed, and she knew when she looked at the smile on his face that she loved him, and she had for a very long time. Tonight in the whirlwind of simple joy and excitement she would tell him, when she first got a moment. In a moment as happy and wonderful as this it didn't even begin to cross her mind that Ron would do anything but love her back. He had to.
Yet as Hermione watched, holding her breath for the perfect moment, Lavender Brown pushed through the crowd. The blonde girl reached Ron and threw herself at him, kissing his full on the mouth. In shock Hermione waited, praying silently that Ron would push her away. After a brief moment of shock Ron reached out and pulled Lavender closer.
The common room erupted in cheers around her, as Hermione's tears began to fall.
It was while she was in a fit of anger and hatred and jealousy that he found her in the library, the tall boy with the fair hair. She'd partly wanted someone to take out her frustration on, but mostly she had wanted to make Ron jealous. She'd flirted and lied until Cormac was infatuated. The whole time she'd seen him as a way to win Ron back from Lavender. She'd never seen him as a person…
Until Cormac was waiting for her on Christmas morning; Cormac was insisting that she listen to him. Cormac told her she was beautiful, and held her hand so patiently as they walked through the corridors. Cormac sat with her in the library for hours on end. He never once gave up on her.
Cormac had loved her as Hermione had never been loved.
So she had devised a dangerous plan to make herself love him back. She knew that love potions never brought happiness, and enchantments wore off, but if she forgot about Ron then she would surely love Cormac. He had been so wonderful towards her after all.
Sure enough, as the pain of Ron's betrayal faded Cormac's smile had shone brightly throughout Hermione's life. She had begun to feel happiness again, and she had allowed herself to fall in love.
The memories of that care overwhelmed her, and Hermione knew she couldn't rest in her lost hopes and dreams any longer. Knowing that she was asleep, she knew now that she must wake up and face the present that these memories led to. Slowly, and with great difficulty, she forced open her eyes.
Once again Cormac lay on his bed in complete despair. He hadn't even paused to draw the curtains. He was grateful that all of his roommates were at dinner, because he simply couldn't face anybody right now.
He was trying very hard not to think about Hermione, but fear simply crowded into his brain. Despite the headmaster's reassurance Cormac just wouldn't believe that she was okay until he saw her for himself. Her collapse had terrified him. He longed to see her whole and well.
Yet mixed with his worry for her was a deep sense of pain, regret and responsibility. He hated himself for letting Hermione do this to herself. He should have noticed that she had changed.
You did notice jeered a voice from deep within him. You saw how she changed, and how she started to love you. You noticed that she'd forgotten Weasley, but you liked it, and so you let her get worse. Maybe it's all your fault…
Maybe it was his fault. Hermione had been hurting and broken; her heart in pieces after the boy that she loved left her behind. Cormac hadn't even considered what Hermione was feeling, not beyond how it might benefit him. He'd been nice to her because otherwise she'd leave him; he'd been patient for fear that he'd lose her if he moved too fast. The whole motivation for the way Cormac had acted had been what it would, ultimately, make him happy. Hermione's wellbeing had simply taken a backseat.
Cormac couldn't remember the last time he'd cried. He simply wasn't that sort of person. He'd always been a practical, straightforward, problem solving sort of person. Getting involved with emotions just wasn't something he did. He thought of Hermione that night: of all that he had almost had within his reach; of what, in the name of selfishness he had sacrificed. The thought of the girl he loved lying broken and weak was too much; he couldn't hold the tears back. Worry and remorse overwhelmed him. Whispering a spell to close the curtains around his bed, he curled up in a ball and cried himself to sleep.
Harry looked up from his homework when he sensed a disturbance. Ron was snoring quietly in the seat next to Harry's. Both of them were waiting by Hermione's bed. A quick glance around the room told him that, besides the three of them, the hospital wing was completely deserted. Searching for the source of the disturbance he glanced down at Hermione, and saw her stir.
"Ron, wake up," he urged the red head. "Hermione's eyes are open."
Ron awoke with a snort, and glanced around confusedly. In the moment it took to remember where he was Hermione was already struggling to sit up. Harry helped her, gently positioning the pillow to support her back. "How're you feeling?" he asked his friend concernedly. "We've been really worried!"
"I'm tired," she admitted, and found that her voice was rather croaky.
"How does your head feel?" chimed Ron. "Madame Pomfery said that it might hurt."
For a moment Hermione couldn't reply. She hadn't expected to speak to Ron ever again. She had become so convinced that he would never care for her, but here he was, his face betraying his concern. "It's not sore," she replied. "Although it does feel very delicate. What happened?"
Nervously Ron and Harry exchanged a glance. "You collapsed," Harry said carefully. "A spell went wrong." Ron looked very pale. After a moment of silently watching her friends she realised that they would never bring up the subject of her memories. Either she brought it up first, or this would hang over their heads forever, a silent demon that would eat through their friendship. She braced herself for their reaction.
"I'm sorry," she whispered. "I didn't think it would go wrong."
Ron looked furious. "Didn't you learn anything from what went wrong with the Polyjuice Potion? You can't mess about with dark magic and expect it to go well!"
"Will I be okay?" she enquired hesitantly.
Ron sighed. "You should be fine. But if one of those vials had smashed, or if you'd gone just a little longer…Hermione, how could you be so stupid?"
Harry was stood between his two friends and he felt decidedly out of place. He took his seat and proceeded to hide behind his homework, although any observant person would have noticed that he was holding it upside down.
"I'm sorry," Hermione repeated. "It just hurt."
"What did?" Ron looked merely looked confused.
Ron's sincere question knocked Hermione off-guard. For all this time she had assumed that he must know how she felt; now it was clear that he didn't. She turned red with embarrassment, as she managed to utter the words, "It hurt to be in love with you."
Ron's jaw quite literally dropped. "You can't be in love with me," he protested. "I'm dating Lavender!"
Weakly she smiled at him. "That's one of the reasons it hurt, Ron."
He shuffled his feet awkwardly. "Does it still hurt now?"
Hermione looked away from him. She hadn't noticed until now, but the suffocating sense of loss she had felt before hadn't returned with her memories. Her heart still ached, slightly, like a long healed wound, when she thought about Ron and Lavender. The pain wasn't fresh anymore though.
"Not so much."
Ron looked relieved. "I'm sorry too, Hermione. Can we still be friends?"
She grinned. "Nothing would delight me more. I've missed you."
Harry set aside his homework. "You said that Lavender was one of the reasons. Why else did it hurt?" he asked.
Embarrassment caused Hermione to turn an even brighter shade of red than before. "Please don't be mad, Harry," she implored, "but someone else deserves to hear that part of the story before you."
Despite Hermione's plea anger flashed across Harry's face. Ron looked confused again. "Who?"
Nervous and hesitant, Hermione replied very quietly. "Cormac. Cormac McLaggen."
Author's Note: Next chapter will probably be a little while, as I'm going travelling for a month! As always updates will happen as soon as possible. Thank you all for your continued support.