DISCLAIMER: This story is based on characters and situations created and owned by JK Rowling, various publishers including but not limited to Bloomsbury Books, Scholastic Books and Raincoast Books, and Warner Bros., Inc. No money is being made and no copyright or trademark infringement is intended.
Chapter 28: Destination, Determination, Deliberation
As it turned out, aside from a good dressing-down and seven nights of detention, nothing worse came of their little escapade in Hogsmeade. Seamus had even managed to hold on to his Ice Mice, which he shared in the common room to make up for the three of them losing sixty points for Gryffindor.
Harry merely shook his head and smiled faintly when Hermione and Ron told him about it, as if to say, 'If I'd been there, you wouldn't have been caught', and then went back to watching the Map.
He was becoming more and more distant. Hermione couldn't help wondering if it had anything to do with her. Had she alienated him the way she had Ron? But then Harry had distanced himself from Ron as well. Aside from Quidditch practices and their dorm at night, the two boys didn't spend any time together at all. The break between Ron and Harry was mostly due to Lavender, it was true, but even since Ron had been trying to avoid Lavender, he hadn't returned to his formerly permanent position at Harry's side. They were all growing up, and growing apart, Hermione concluded somewhat forlornly.
She retreated to the library, as usual, dividing her time between school work, a last-ditch dig for information on the still-elusive 'Horcrux', and a blind search for anything that might relate to the 'Half-Blood Prince'.
She quickly found and exhausted the lists of Royals. As she had suspected, there was no mention of any member of the British Royal family in the twentieth century with wizard blood. However, she became quite excited upon discovering two books written by a certain Marcellus Prince in the early decades of the nineteenth century. They were obscure, astrologic texts, which didn't connect in any way with either potion-making or little-known spells of questionable ethics. Still, it gave her the hope that Prince was a real name and not a title, either hereditary or invented. If only she had access to class lists!
Her experience at the Apparition lesson had instilled her with a renewed zeal to apply herself to her studies as well. It irked her no end to have the feeling that anyone, especially the professors, might actually think that she wasn't as clever and capable as she had always felt she was. Somewhere along the way, she'd lost her thirst for knowledge, and even if she didn't quite have it back yet, she felt now that she had something to prove, something to live up to, and she wasn't going to settle for A's on her assignments any more.
Of course, Harry and Ron had never doubted her academic abilities, and now Ron – after a sulk of a few days – had come to her and asked for help with Apparition, too. Hermione was at a bit of a loss: She'd never been good at physical activities before, certainly never better than Ron or Harry, and it wasn't easy to explain how to Apparate. On top of that, they couldn't actually try anything out until the next practice session in Hogsmeade. But she duly went through the motions, and tried to put into words how she'd gotten in the right frame of mind, without using such abstract terms as 'destination, determination, and deliberation', which made Ron's eyes glaze over at the first D.
Ron's problem was, he seemed to think that there was something wrong with his movements. To him, Apparition was all in the body, and he didn't seem to grasp that he needed to do more mental work than simply to think of where he wanted to go. And so he had her twirl around in the courtyard until she was positively dizzy, studying the positions of her hands and feet, wanting to know if she shifted her weight forward or back, whether she spun clockwise or counter-clockwise. At first, she was extremely self-conscious about him looking at her body so much, feeling herself awkward and exposed. Although he never mentioned it again, she still was very much aware that he knew that she had been raped, and she avoided looking him in the eye, afraid of what she would see in his expression.
Still, she forced herself to do it, both because she hoped to salvage something of their old friendship, and because she was determined not to let What Had Happened stop her from living her life anymore. She would not be a slave to that one experience. She knew that she had changed in a lot of ways, as a result of it, and maybe a lot of them were things she wasn't even aware of, but she did know that she had become fearful, inhibited, and withdrawn. This was probably a perversion of her natural tendency to be cautious, drawn out to the extreme as a defense mechanism, and it was not a development which she welcomed. Going along with Ron and Seamus had been one semi-conscious effort on her part to counteract it, and now putting her body on display (albeit well-clothed and in a most non-prurient manner) was another. This was her body. She would use it as she chose.
And in the end, something about her methods must have worked, because at the very next Apparition lesson, Ron popped out of sight, and Hermione was so happy for both of them that she jumped up and down... until, that is, Lavender caught her eye, and it wasn't anger that she saw so much as a desolate sort of sadness, and she felt bad. She wished that things had worked out differently; for all of them. But it was all too clear to her that Ron was over his infatuation with Lavender. She honestly didn't think any more that he had any feelings for herself, either, other than companionable ones. He was never overly solicitous toward her, nor did he stare at her when he thought she wasn't looking, the way Viktor had been and done, or the way Harry did at Ginny (yes, she had noticed that).
One more thing of note happened on that last Apparition practice weekend: Harry had stayed back at the castle, as usual, and on their return, reported that he had run into Tonks in the corridor outside the Room of Requirement, where he had been trying to catch Malfoy. The story she'd told Harry about being there to see Dumbledore was threadbare at best: Dumbledore wasn't even around, having gone off on another one of his mysterious trips, and if the student body at large was aware of that fact, then how could an on-duty Auror not have known it?
"She's supposed to be guarding the school against threats from the outside," Hermione began thinking out loud. "Why is she suddenly abandoning her post to come and see Dumbledore when he's not even here?" The fact that she was near the Room of Requirement couldn't possibly be a coincidence. Hermione was afraid to say it to Harry, but she was fairly certain that Dumbledore must have told Tonks to keep an eye on Malfoy's comings and goings through the Room in his absence; virtual proof that he knew Malfoy was using it to Apparate in and out of the castle. Luckily, Harry distracted himself by trying to explain away Tonks' appearance with her being so upset over Sirius' death that she'd gotten confused about Dumbledore not being around, a conjecture that was not only illogical but insulting to Tonks' professional character.
Hermione wasn't inclined to clarify things for Harry, either, and so she redirected the conversation toward a run-down of how things had been in Hogsmeade this time. Neither Snape nor McGonagall had let them out of their sight for an instant (other than when they had Apparated a few yards away), which had made Hermione feel positively patronised. She had also felt quite superior, though, when Twycross praised her Apparition in front of the entire group, eliciting a relieved and prideful glow from Professor McGonagall and a sour scowl from Professor Snape. It was as if he begrudged her any success; but of course, it had less to do with her in particular and more to do with Gryffindors in general, she knew. Still, it felt good to have his nose rubbed in her accomplishments over those of his precious Draco Malfoy, who, although he had achieved Apparition before her, apparently did not have the same style, grace, and precision as she. Or so Mr. Twycross had put it, over Butterbeers at the Three Broomsticks, where the House Heads had brought the entire group as a reward (and probably in order to forestall anyone else getting it into their heads to sneak off again).
And so Hermione felt, for the first time in many months, that things were actually looking up. With her research on Horcruxes and the Half-Blood Prince, she had something to work towards, something else to focus on other than her inner turmoil. With Apparition, she had been successful at something again, praised and fawned over by authority figures. Her friendship with Harry and Ron bore at least a vague resemblance to its previous state.
The only dark spots were Defense class – where she couldn't seem to shake the vestiges of unease around Snape, although he didn't seem to bear her any additional ill will for their last encounter -- and the minutes between lights out and sleep, when the unease returned, amplified by her imagination imbuing every shadow, creak, and waft of air with sinister properties. Still, she felt that the chains that had held her back for so long were weakening.
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"You were really close, Ron," Hermione tried to placate him as they walked back with the group from their Apparition licensing exam. "If it'd been me, I would've passed you. I can't believe they even noticed."
"One eyebrow. A half an eyebrow!" He jabbed at the offending feature. "Who needs half a bloody eyebrow?"
"I know. Still, I suppose they can't be too careful. If it'd been just a little lower, you might've ended up like Professor Moody." She meant it half as a joke, but it came off sounding preachy and pedantic.
"Next time I'm just going to shave my eyebrows off beforehand. I'll show them who's missing half an eyebrow." He glared at the backs of the students ahead of them, which included Lavender. She hadn't even bothered trying to walk with Ron this time.
Hermione couldn't help but laugh at Ron's remark, although from the intensity of his glower, she knew that she was rubbing salt into the wound.
"Go ahead and laugh, Miss Perfect Apparition –" Ron floundered for words. "—Apparator." He thrust his big hands up under his arms.
Hermione looked nervously up ahead at Lavender and Parvati, walking arm-in-arm. Despite their big show of ignoring Ron and Hermione, Hermione knew that her two roommates were straining to hear every word that passed between herself and Lavender's still-official boyfriend. Hermione felt like a traitor, and wished that Ron would just clear the air with Lavender once and for all.
She slid the tip of her wand out of her sleeve and as inconspicuously as possible (they had been told they wouldn't need to bring their wands along), cast a Muffliato spell on herself. She was uncomfortably conscious of the fact that Professor Snape had used the same spell in her presence just last week, and she felt slightly dirty for using it now, but she couldn't think of any other quick and easy way to keep Lavender from overhearing the conversation she meant to have with Ron.
"Ron..." she began hesitantly. "What happened between you and Lavender?
Ron frowned. "What do you mean?"
"You know..." she prompted. "The two of you used to be... well, inseparable, to say the least. But lately, you've obviously been avoiding her."
"I have not," he grunted sullenly, sending a quick look at the back of Lavender's head.
"Ron, you look for a hiding place whenever you think you hear her voice," Hermione reminded him. "You cowered behind me in the courtyard this morning because you thought Melinda Whitetail was Lavender."
"I was not cowering. I was placing myself in a strategic position to survey the yard," he said, but the way his eyes shifted around told another story.
"Ron!"
Ron sighed and rubbed a hand over his face. "She's just ... a little too intense," he admitted. "She's a great girl. Just ... well, you're her roommate. You know."
"I know. I know that she spent all morning crying, wondering what she's done wrong, why you don't like her anymore."
Ron cringed.
"Ron, you have to talk to her."
He sighed. "Every time I do, she somehow... I mean, we somehow end up..." Ron's ears were red as he looked at Hermione out of the corner of his eye.
"I think I get the picture, thank you," she said, avoiding his gaze and trying not to think of the two of them locking lips. "But... I guess I'm not quite clear on things, then, and I don't think she is, either. Are you still going out with her or not?"
"I don't—I mean.... Gah! Why do I have to answer that? Things are the way they are, why do you girls always want to pin us down and have names for everything?"
"Ron, the way you're acting... Well, it's not very nice to Lavender, is it? On the one hand, you can hardly stand to be in the same room with her, and on the other hand, when she finally does corner you, you ... Well, you don't discourage her from expressing her affection, let's put it that way."
"I'm a guy, Hermione!"
"Come on, you're not telling me that just because you're a male of the species, that gives you the right to use her to get your jollies, regardless of her feelings, are you?" Hermione cringed inwardly at how screechy she sounded and tried to calm down.
"I think you're taking this way too seriously, Hermione," he said in a low voice. "Letting what happened to you color your view of everything. I'm not forcing her into anything. I'm not going to rape her, if that's what you're worried about."
All the color drained from Hermione's face. She felt like someone had just socked her in the gut, and she stopped dead in her tracks.
Ron looked around at her to see why she'd stopped, then rolled his eyes. "Oh God, oh come on, Hermione, you know I didn't mean it like that! Come on." He reached out and tried to pull her along, but she twitched away, shooting glances around to see if anyone was paying attention to them.
Right on cue, Professor Flitwick marched up behind them, trilling, "Keep up with the group, Miss Granger and Mister Weasley!" He said it lightly, but there was a firmness to his manner that said they were being kept on a short lead.
Hermione forced herself to move forward. Ron fell into step beside her again. She was angry at him, but now that she thought about it: Why? He was right: She did let what had happened to her color her view of many things. She'd made an unthought-out comment herself.
She heard Ron stumbling through an apology and interrupted him: "No, Ron, you're right. I'm sorry. Whatever's going on with you and Lavender, it has nothing to do with what happened to me. I shouldn't have accused you like that."
"Well, I can see where you're coming from," he said, now magnanimous. "And you're right, I guess I should really buck up and come clean with her. It's not right."
"It's not that I want the two of you to break up, you realize," Hermione clarified, feeling her anger dissipate and the beginnings of a slow panic come upon her. She didn't want him to think that she was trying to maneuver her way into position.
"I know. Just wasn't meant to be, I reckon." He shrugged and gave Hermione a small smile.
"But ..." And now they were back to the point they'd been in the infirmary, when she'd blurted out her confession. "This isn't about me, either, is it?" she asked carefully. "That things didn't work out between you and Lavender?" She held her breath.
"Not really.... I mean, yeah, in a way," Ron said, rubbing the back of his neck, and Hermione felt hot and cold all over. "It's just that she started in on you, how your... you know, about your looks and stuff, not that I noticed or anything, I always thought you looked ... you know, normal ... but she was pretty mean, saying that you'd let yourself go... and how you weren't really that smart after all, she was getting better marks in Defence... And then you told me what had happened, and it all started to make sense, and I got really angry about how unfair she was being, and that she was wrong, but I couldn't tell her what had really happened. And even if I had, I don't think she would have been any better. So... yeah, in a way, it just showed me what she was really like. I guess she was just showing her true colors. But you won't tell her I said that, will you? I mean, she's really not that bad." He looked at her with his earnest, blue eyes from underneath his ragged fringe, and she just wanted to cry. For all that she had lost. For all the indignities she had suffered. For the way she'd treated Ron, when all along he'd been thinking of her.
She swallowed hard and forced her voice to sound firm. "No, I won't tell her. But you have to. Not the part about me, but you have to tell her that you don't think you can be her boyfriend anymore."
"I know. I just don't know how to do it. I'm bollocks at this relationship stuff."
"Oh, I don't know, Ron. I think you do just fine."
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