A/N: YAY! Another update in a short amount of time! I love you all, and thanks for the great conversation, edwardsoneandonlylove!
Chapter title comes from the song, "Not Good Enough" by The Saturdays. Enjoy!
There were three other girls throwing up in the bathrooms this time, and Hermione felt absolutely drained when she flushed the toilet and stood up. By October, she had thought she would finally be getting used to the accumulative twelve-hour dancing schedule, but after a month of rigorous, gruelling training, her body was still giving up the little amounts of food every four hours after classes. She had made bathroom buddies with a Russian girl named Anya, who had feather-like hair, Estela, and Carley, who had all been throwing up too.
She stood up with a groan, and opened the door with a sigh. Immediately Hermione was greeted by Elaine, who held up her normal water and crackers she delivered every time Hermione threw up, which was three times a day. "I-" she began to stutter and swallowed some water. They had about five more minutes of break left. "I-I am so...bloody tired of doing this, and I am not ready for more dancing," she moaned. "I'm completely exhausted."
Elaine rubbed her back soothingly and helped her eat a cracker. "Why don't I go brew you some coffee?" she suggested. "To wake you up? Or maybe some tea for your throat?" She headed toward the door and looked back at Hermione's mirror image expectantly.
Hermione took a deep breath and shivered for a moment. "Coffee. Please. I need caffeine." She stared at herself in the mirror, and from her peripheral vision she saw Elaine leave hurriedly to brew the coffee. Suddenly her mind moved a thousand miles an hour, connecting things that had similarities to a chain of items. Coffee. She had coffee with Ana. Ana who was from Austria. Austria, where the film, The Sound of Music, was based. It was partially based in an abbey. Nuns live in abbeys. Hermione had an aunt who was a nun. Nun was a homonym of none. None meant to have nothing of something. Hermione had no Draco. Draco was the man she had fallen in love with stupidly only to find out that he could toss her away like a simple toy. Toy...She wasn't going to go there.
Her eyes, once golden and happy, looked lifeless, and despite her gladness to be a part of something bigger, she spent most of her nights crying herself to sleep. She had imagined this to be like a little family that would hang out together, tell stories, help with each others injuries while having loads of fun in class while learning complicated yet doable moves and variations. She did not expect to be in constant competition with her flatmates, wondering who was sleeping with who (for bisexuality or homosexuality seemed to be wide within the girls), spending her free time bandaging her sores and cuts, and throwing up after extreme training that left her wanting just to die on the floor.
Her lips, dry from her constant upheaval of food and acid and lack nutritions and water, were a thin line when she pursed them as she scrutinised herself. She bit the bottom one slightly and it began to bleed, first just a vertical line of blood, but then it spread to a more oblong shape. She flicked her tongue out to take in the blood, but watched as her salty red substance just kept replacing itself.
Her face, which when she first got here had gotten rounder, seemed to be getting unhealthily thin. She always hated how people said ballerinas would get malnourished or anorexic, because she was never that way. However, her thinning arms and face told her that it was not ballerinas faults they got thin. They did not chose not to eat, they just did not have time. She knew it was not healthy to be so thin, but when she took a step back, she noticed that her thighs and stomach looked about the same, even though she had not been eating much. She read once that if you do not eat for a long period of time, when you do eat, your body automatically stores the fat, so she attributed science to the reasoning.
"Got your coffee," Elaine said once she returned. She handed off the steaming to Hermione, who took the cup without even caring that its blazing hotness was bare against her hand. She took a long sip and felt her head spin, but took another sip.
"So good," she moaned, and then took another sip. "Merlin, my head feels funny," she mumbled. Hermione closed her eyes and in about a second – at least it felt like it – she was set on the bench in the bathroom, and a familiar hand was rubbing her back.
"Just drink the coffee and your water. We've only got a few minutes left," Elaine whispered. She ran his fingers through Hermione's hair for comfort and waved goodbye and hello to a few girls who left and entered the bathrooms.
Hermione could not think. She was clutching her plastic water bottle so tightly that the more she drank the more it crinkled and created a raging headache. The coffee had been taken away from her about a minute ago, by Elaine no doubt, who had permanently left around the same time. Hermione sighed and drank the rest of her water before taking out her wand and clearing her headache. She cast a Pepper-Up spell, that did not last as long as the potion, but still made things better.
When Hermione opened her eyes, her headache was gone and replaced with a sense of cooling and calming through her pores and her temples. She took a deep breath, washed her hands, and left the bathroom with her head held high.
"MISS GRANGER!" Ms Gunin screamed when Hermione walked through the doors into the studio. She saw Elaine twitch in the mirror, but continued the degagé combination. She winced and looked down at her feet. Late. "I have already told you that ballerinas are prompt and punctual! I do not like to repeat myself! Get to your position! Defy my rules once more and you will be gone!" Hermione's eyes widened as she stared at her feet and nodded, hurrying away to the barre. "If you were not such a great dancer and if I did not see potential in you, you would already be out."
Hermione sighed and nodded, trying not to look at her in the eyes. She cringed when the old, wrinkly woman's voice boomed again, echoing in the large studio.
"Do you understand me?" Now the other girls had finished the combination on both sides and were waiting patiently facing outside of the barre with their hands behind their backs. Hermione shivered and nodded. "Speak to me!" she yelled.
"D-da," Hermione said shakily. "Da, Ms Gunin. I understand you." She mirrored the girls beside her and bit her lip to stop the tears from falling down her face. She felt pain in her injured knee when she rolled up to start the next combination, a pain that had not occurred ever since Draco had –. She was not going to think about that day.
By the time they reached frappés (en pointe of all things), Hermione's knee was practically shaking. Ms Gunin had decided to walk around the room, scrutinising everything about everyone. "Your ribbons are not tucked in," she said to Li. "Tilt your chin up," she told a Russian girl. She passed by Esther without giving her a second glance. "Your skirt is too short," was another, alongside with, "your hair colour is too bright." That one she gave to Erika, who looked like she was cursing her inwardly.
When Ms Gunin pulled out her wand as she got to Hermione, the shaking ballerina had an idea what was about to happen. "Tummy in!" she shouted and slapped her stomach with the wand so hard that Hermione doubled over and panted. She stood up as straight as she could, but fell completely to the ground after Ms Gunin hit her shaking knee. Hermione let out a yelp of pain and closed her eyes, trying not to cry. Slowly she cracked one eye open and saw her knee cap on the side of her knee – it had popped out of socket.
This time everybody stopped doing the frappé combination and looked down at Hermione in shock. Elaine gave a gasp and hurried over to her from her place a few steps down the barre. "Hermione!" she exclaimed.
"Get back!" Ms Gunin yelled, turning around to keep Elaine from Hermione...or rather, keep Hermione from Elaine. "Stay away! No one helps her!" she screamed. Her gaze glared into the back of Hermione's head. "Stand up, girl."
"She can't stand on her own!" Erika shouted, but kept her hand gripped to the barre. It whitened more than her normal skin tone, and her arm began to shake. "Her knee cap is on the side of her leg!"
Ms Gunin stalked forward and pushed her face so close to Erika's it looked like they would bump noses. "She can stand on her own, she can walk on her own, she can dance on her own!" she screamed. "And none of you," she glanced around the room then, "are going to tell me otherwise! None of this is any of your concern!" Her little feet clicked as she walked back to Hermione's shivering body. "Get up!" she screamed and kicked the sideways knee cap. "A true ballerina does not get injured!"
Hermione winced and shook with each stab of pain that went up her leg. She cried out, trying to calm down but could only feel pain emanating throughout her body. She felt like she was going to be sick, but knew she had to hold it in. She let out a strangled yelp when her knee was kicked again, and tears streamed fast down her cheeks and on her chest.
"GET UP!" Ms Gunin screamed. "Get up, girl, or I swear – "
"I'm up!" Hermione cried, and pulled her right leg up to balance on it. Her left knee wobbled, and she tried to hobble back to the barre, but she collapsed again.
"She is in no condition to dance like this!" Li exclaimed, her face flushed red with tears filling her brown eyes. "Just let her sit out! Please! Or let her go to a nurse! Or a hospital!" A few tears fell down her face, and she jumped when Ms Gunin's voice bellowed again.
Esther stared at Ms Gunin and sighed. "Ms Gunin...She cannot dance." It was said in almost a whisper, and almost everyone stared at the fierce short girl in complete bewilderment. Esther never defied Ms Gunin or even talked during classes, unlike at the flat. She was always punctual and respectful to their instructor, and as well, she was never kind to Hermione.
Ms Gunin stared at Esther for a moment. She sighed and turned back around to face Hermione."MISS GRANGER!" she yelled and turned back to the cowering girl on the floor. "Leave. Pop your knee back into place and come back tomorrow with a promise that you will not get injured once more!" Hermione did not move for a moment as she tried to register what the elderly woman shouting over her was saying. "I mean it! Go! Now! Scram!"
Within five seconds, Hermione was able to stand up, and she half-walked, half-hobbled over to the door, which took about seven hops. She shoved open the door and gave a loud, long sigh when she hit the ground, and immediately tears starting falling down her face. She struggled to stand, and when she finally was able to balance on her right foot, she grabbed her wand and Apparated to the flat.
She hobbled inside, opened the door with her nicely branded wand and slammed the door shut before collapsing onto the floor. She stared at her knee in awe and her blurred vision made it hard for her to see the damage. Her knee...the knee that Draco had healed. Perhaps that old spell he used on her knee was not good enough.
Maybe Draco was not good enough.
Maybe Hermione was not good enough.
Not good enough. Not good enough. Not good enough. The words kept ringing in her ear like church bells on Christmas Eve. Pounding on her ear drums, causing an even worse headache than before. Not good enough. Never good enough.
Hermione crawled into her room, which she momentarily regretted having the room furthest from the door. It felt weird without everybody else inside. Of course, when it was full, people were sleeping or drinking or kissing, so she really had no one to talk to beside Elaine and Ana. And lately, Ana had been rather hostile toward her. Last week, she had gotten angry with her for accidentally sitting on her favourite cardigan and had huffed annoyingly. She had then decided to go talk to Esther and left Hermione alone.
Not good enough for Ana. Not good enough for Esther. Not good enough for Ms Gunin.
Not good enough. Not good enough. Not. Good. Enough.
Hermione let out an excruciatingly loud cry into her pillow when she finally felt the pain from her knee shooting up her leg again. Her thoughts had muffled the pain for a moment, but now that her brain had gone back to simple, straining thoughts (notgoodenoughnotgoodenough), the pain was back.
She reached shakily for her wand and bit her when she had to twist her body down to look at her knee. She felt completely sick as she stared at her dislocated knee. Hermione bit her lip and waved her wand. She yelped as she watched the knee cap pop back into place. It hurt for a moment and then a calming, relaxing feeling took over in her knee. She sighed lay her head back, letting her wand roll out of her palm. Lifting her leg through her hip bone, she elevated her knee to a pillow before sitting up. "Accio Brace!" she said breathlessly. Her brace zoomed up to her hands after coming out of the drawer.
"I haven't seen you in awhile," she said with a small smile as she undid the Velcro and wrapped it around her injured knee. She secured it into place and closed her eyes before testing out her leg. She could put a bit of pressure on it, but not too much. She hobbled slightly into the kitchen. Perhaps with her free time she could get a bit of reading done, or even eat something more than crackers.
She Accioed her revised version of Hogwarts: A History that included the war into the sitting room and began to read, trying to ignore the aching feeling in her stomach.
It hardly seemed like ten minutes when the door banged open and Esther stalked in, fuming and muttering unkind phrases under her breath. She glanced at Hermione for a brief second – only long enough to know she was present – before raiding the kitchen.
Almost immediately Hermione stood up and hobbled over to the kitchen. She wanted to thank Esther, for helping her leave class early, but she also wanted to ask her why she did it. "Esther!" she exclaimed as she kept more weight on her right leg. "Esther, why did you – ?"
"Ask no questions, and I'll give you no answers," she said as she whipped around to face Hermione. She seemed even more intimidating with her black hair in a high bun on her head, making her daggering facial features stand out. It always questioned Hermione why Esther, who was Dutch, had extremely dark hair. Perhaps she simply dyed it.
Hermione crossed her arms. "But I just asked you a question! First off, my apologies for not saying it sooner," she began a bit roughly, then sighed, "but thank you. You know, for convincing Ms Gunin to let me leave. No one else was successful, but you were. So...thank you."
Esther rolled her eyes and grabbed an apple from the counter. She tossed it to Hermione, whose instincts kicked in, and she caught it. "Apples wake you up more than coffee. Next time you practically pass out in the bathroom, eat an apple," she said with a sigh.
Hermione held the apple and stared at it. It was green, and it horribly reminded her of someone that would make life easier if she just forgot. "Thank you," she breathed. "But, Esther, I'm serious. Why have you given me this advice, and why did you help me leave?" she insisted. "You hate me! Or at least I thought you hated me..."
Esther sighed. "Listen, I do hate you, don't think that I don't, but I...I know what it's like to be in your shoes...Kind of." She tapped her foot as she thought. "I'm making tea. I'll elaborate in the sitting room once it's done." She turned to the cabinets and grabbed some tea before started the tap.
Hermione sat in the sitting room with a small teacup that Esther had brought her. Her ebony hair was down now, and she sipped her tea almost nervously. "Don't take anything I admit to you as a bond of some messed up friendship, alright? I'm just saying these things to say them, sort of...get them off my chest as you will. We're clear?" She set her teacup down without even waiting for Hermione to nod. "I'll guess I'll just go from the beginning. Ms Gunin is my maternal grandmother." She waited for the shock, but Hermione's eyebrows just raised. "What? Aren't you surprised?" she asked.
"I am," Hermione said flatly and gave a small shrug. "But I've heard the most surprising things I could not even imagined. I'm surprised-out."
Esther seemed to be a little put-off at this, but continued nevertheless. "Anyway, my mother is Russian, and she danced here since her mother, Ms Gunin, as I explained, enrolled her as a little girl. My mother, Nina, fell in love with my father, Frederik, when they were touring in The Netherlands. After a few nights of passionate romance, my mother was found pregnant, dropped the company, which angered my grandmother, and moved to Amsterdam, where my father lived. I was born there, and lived there up until I was ten before my mother died, and I came to Russia to live and train ballet with my grandmother. During times when I am not here, I go back to The Netherlands to visit my father," she explained.
Hermione set down her teacup and looked at her. "Why are you telling me this? What's the purpose?"
"The purpose," Esther said rather harshly, "is to show you that I'm not as cruel and mean as you think. I actually have a back-story. I was not just born an annoying dancing machine." She huffed slightly. "I can manipulate my grandmother easily, however. The reason when I spoke up she let you leave was because she was frightened that if she didn't, I'd go back and live with my father. She always hated my father, thinking that he took my mother away from dance, and that it was his fault she died." She gave a long sigh. "So I rather hate my grandmother. I thought if I did something for you, you would be obligated to do something for me, whatever it may be."
Hermione stared at her in awe. "So, you told me your back-story just to tell me that you saved my arse because you hate your grandmother?" she asked with a raised eyebrow.
"And that I'm not cold and cruel," Esther added. "I'm just a human being with a reason for everything I do. I'm sure there's a reason why you cry at night. Yes, everyone hears you," she said and tried to hide a small smirk resident on her face. "People are more than just what you see on the inside. Not everyone has their entire story tattooed on their forehead." With that, Esther stood up almost immediately with her tea in hand. "I did you a solid. Now do one back for me. Then we never have to talk again. Deal?"
Hermione sighed and played with her hands. She thought of what her knee could have looked like right now if she had stayed in class. She probably would have had to get surgery and her dancing career would have been over forever. She guessed she did owe Esther, even though she did not want to owe Esther anything. "Fine. Deal, I mean." Just as Esther was about to leave, she stood. "Wait, why are you here. Class is not over yet."
"I gave a snide remark about my grandmother's face looking like a chicken's," she said, not trying to hide her smirk this time. "So she told me to leave, that she 'would not tolerate my cheek'," she explained. "So, I slapped my arse when I left, just to give her something to fume about." Esther bit her lip as if completely sweetened by the memory. "Oh, and I'm just saying, I will not miss you when you are gone."
Hermione stood up slowly, keeping her cup down. "After I'm gone? I'm not going anywhere!"
The other girl looked her up and down slowly before resting on her eyes. "You might want to think that through." She turned on her heel and grabbed a bag before opening the Tantsor Flat door and leaving with a brisk, "I am leaving, do not break anything."
Hermione sighed and hobbled back into her room. She decided to ignore Esther's words, although she knew that they would come back into her mind. She crawled under her duvet and almost fell asleep instantly without even changing out of her itchy leotard.
The next day, she stood in class, waiting for Ms Gunin with everyone else. She was wearing her new Tesalls, and she thought she would try them out. She had her brace with her, but kept it off, not wanting to seem weak. She cleared her throat and rolled up and down her on her shoes a few times. Her heel began to slip, and she quickly used her pointer finger to hook it back around her heel and onto her ankle.
"Are you nervous?" Elaine asked quickly as she hurried over to Hermione. Her hair was a bit more frazzled than usual, and her nails were jagged from being bitten over and over again.
"Nervous for what?" Hermione asked as she fixed her heel again. The satin was rather slippery on her tights, and if this was going to go on all class she might just buy Prestibs.
Elaine stared at Hermione as if she just as what was first position. "Um, hullo? Ms Gunin is telling us who got the part of Coppélius' doll in the performance for mid-November! We auditioned for it last week, remember?"
And suddenly Hermione did. The audition piece they used did not having many jumps in it, so she had felt rather good about her fouettes, having not been self-conscious for her shoes' noises. She thought she actually had a chance of getting Coppélius' doll, but then everything from yesterday came back into mind, and subconsciously she felt her knee begin to ache again. Ms Gunin hated her completely – she would not give her the part of Coppélius' doll, would she?
Ms Gunin walked in and everybody hurried back to their positions. She cleared her throat, and Hermione almost laughed at her double chin that wagged. It really was like a chicken's wattle. She chuckled inwardly and took a deep breath as she paid attention to her announcement. "Today, girls, we will be working on the intensives that will be danced in Coppélia. Also, Coppélius' doll will be announced, and I will need to see her on Saturday to begin the pas de deux with a special guest danseur, Dmitri." She cleared her throat again and looked at the girls. "The part of Coppélius' doll will be taken on by Hermione Granger, and her understudy will be Esther de Wit. Pozdravlyavu," she congratulated.
Everyone clapped, having it be a show of respect. Hermione was completely in shock. Why would Ms Gunin give her the part of Coppélius' doll? She was almost certain she hated her. However, she kept her head held high and just let others applaud for her. Elaine looked extremely happy for her, and kept bringing her hands together again and again. Soon, her clap was the last one that echoed through the room, and Ms Gunin spoke once more. "Do you accept your position, Miss Granger?"
Hermione glanced to her left down the barre and saw Esther staring back at her. This was it. This was the solid Esther wanted. She wanted to have the part of Coppélius' doll. By the look of complete and utter desperation staring back at her, Esther had wanted this for quite a long time. She kept her eyes trained on Hermione's lips and smirked, waiting for them to curve around and form a 'no'.
"Yes," she said almost immediately. Esther's knowing smirk had given it away. Her face instantly dropped and so did her jaw slightly. Her stunned stupidity was everything Hermione wanted. She would do something else, maybe buy her a hard-cover book? Or shoes? But not the Coppélius' doll role. It was all Hermione's.
"Very well," Ms Gunin said. "See you Saturday at noon. Here. I want both of you there to shadow each other." Esther shot Hermione another look. Her eyes looked almost as if they were on fire. Her teeth clenched and she breathed quickly. Her body quickly whipped to the right side and prepared for pliés.
Hermione began barre with a new sense of confidence. Every move she did was to her one-hundred percent. Her movements were precise and sharp, just enough to stand out, but not enough to show off. Once the frappé combination had finished, Ms Gunin held up her hand to add criticism.
"When you bring your leg from an straight out position to a tight sous sous, I want you all to think about your thighs kissing each other. Or your calves. Just act as is your legs are kissing, or just being pressed up together in some sensual position. Idti!"she exclaimed. She motioned for everyone to try it, and held her nose up in the snooty-like manner she did. Her neck pimples shined, and she observed each person.
Hermione held her leg out in a front arabesque, and brought it in. She held her foot to her thigh and watched in the mirror as her foot stayed turned out and slid down her other leg. Instantly she thought of Draco, how their bodies, coated with sweat, would rub against each other, and she wanted to moan at the memory of the pleasure he gave her between her thighs. However, she held it in, and stood up even straighter.
"Good, Miss Granger, everyone watch Miss Granger!" Ms Gunin called, and everyone stopped what they were doing to watch Hermione demonstrate again.
It was the first time she truly smiled again ever since leaving.
When Saturday came around, Hermione and Esther had left the flat at roughly the same time but took two different routes. Esther arrived first, and when Hermione entered the studio at 11:50, she looked up at her smugly. However, Ms Gunin did not notice, and this time it was Hermione's turn to be smug.
"This is Dmitri," Ms Gunin introduced, holding one wrinkly arm up toward a rather tall and lean man with mahogany hair and just a scruff of facial hair. He was rather attractive, Hermione would be lying if she said that he was not. "He will be playing Franz."
"Privet," he said, saying hello to the two girls. He waved one hand strongly before placing it back by his thigh. "I am very privileged to be working with you. The one of Hermione Granger?" he asked, looking between the two girls. It was obvious he wished it were Esther, who was smaller and not as heavy.
Hermione cleared her throat. "That's me," she said simply. Dmitri looked her up and down and smiled. He bent forward and took her hand. He pressed a kiss to it before standing back up.
"I have happy. You are very beautiful, Hermione," he whispered. He shot her a wide smile before taking a step back. "You must be Esther," he said and shook her hand. "Please to meet you." Hermione saw from the corner of her eye that Esther seemed a bit jealous. Perfect.
Ms Gunin stepped forward. "Before we begin, we have the doll outfit already fitted to your bodies. Come try them on. It will be easier to learn the choreography with them on." She waved her hand over to the corner, and the two girls followed. There were two dresses that had poofy white tutus and a white bodice with sparkles all over and an accented light pink hue as ribbons around the ends of the tutus. "Put them on," she ordered, and handed the shorter one to Esther.
Hermione took her dress in her hand and slid it on over her body. She let out a yelp of pain as Ms Gunin tightened the corset. "It's sort of tight around my stomach," she told her.
Ms Gunin walked back around to face Hermione, whose face was red from the pain. "I told you to lose that weight, Miss Granger. Now your dress does not fit. You have gained more. Stop it."
Hermione whined once more, not meaning to sound annoying. "Can I...can I just get it in a bigger size, please?" She hated having to get something refitted, especially if it was too big. It made her self-conscious about her hourglass figure even more. Her lovehandles, her pouch of fat on her belly and her giant thighs...they all bothered her.
Ms Gunin practically glared into her soul. "You lose the weight. A ballerina changes her appearance to fit the outfits, not change the outfits to fit her appearance." She slapped her stomach, which made Hermione cringe. "Lose it. Or lose the role. Now! Centre stage, Franz begins with a la seconde turns, while the doll is still immobile..."
Hermione and Dmitri danced for the first half an hour before switching with Esther. During Hermione's last half an hour, she went o do her pirouettes into a dip, her heel of her shoe came off again, and her shoe became unstable, and she fell. Her knee was shaking but it did not pop out again.
"What was that?" Ms Gunin shouted. "You were looking perfect, what the hell happened?" she yelled.
Hermione shivered slightly and fixed her shoe. "The, er, heel of my shoe keeps slipping. It's the satin I imagine, against th-the tights, madame." She rolled up and did a pirouette and they fell again. "See?"
"I do, deal with it," Ms Gunin shot. As she headed back to the stereo to start the classical music again, Esther cleared her throat in a manner that was very much like her grandmother's.
"Actually," Esther said. "If you use rosin on it, it'll help keep your heel in place. It eats away the smooth parts of the silk." She reached into her bag and pulled out some amber rosin surrounded by powdered rosin. She opened the bag and spread it on the floor.
Hermione stared at her for a moment. Was this really the same Esther that had did her a solid, but had also gotten extremely pissed off at her for getting the part of the doll? Perhaps she wanted two things now for Hermione to do. Whatever it was, Hermione had only a half hour left, and decided to give the rosin a try. She pulled down her heel and rolled the back of her ankle and her ends of her shoe in the powder. She repeated the same action with the left foot. She felt the effects almost instantly, and did a triple pirouette just to be sure. When her heel stayed up, she resumed her position. "Thank you, Esther," she said.
Esther gave a rather evil grin back at her. "You're welcome," she said over the music as it began.
Ten minutes after putting on the rosin, Hermione knew it was a mistake. Although it made sure her shoes stayed on, it did not just eat at the smooth satin. It also ate through her tights. And her skin. With five minutes left of her rehearsal, Hermione looked down and saw her tights were completely bloody. Her ankle was throbbing as blood poured out of it. Ms Gunin pretended not to notice.
At the end of her rehearsal, she sat down for the last half hour of Esther's and just stared at the bloody mess that painted her calves. The tights were going to be scraped, but it was going to take a lot of scrubbing on Hermione's part to get the scarlet stains out of her pale skin.
She picked at the tights and watched as the blood dripped onto the floor. The half hour went by quickly, and it was in those last five minutes where her heart was racing and her mind was jumbled. Blood... It was the wrong kind.
"Thank you, Ms Gunin," she said, and bowed to her elder before rushing out of the studio. Esther stayed back to talk with Dmitri before swaggering out. She held herself high. It pleased herself to see Hermione all upset over just a bit of blood.
Hermione stared at her reflection in the mirror. Had it only been a few days ago where she had done that again? She gripped her wand in her hand and held it at waist height. She bit her lip. "Gravidam," she whispered and watched as her wand emitted a golden haze. Her mirror image looked scared. Was she this scared on the inside? She stared at the haze nervously, and her breath hitched when it finally made a silhouette that looked something like a bean. It disappeared into nothing after a moment, leaving Hermione bewildered and upset.
She took a long bath that night. She scrubbed ferociously at her stained calves until you could not tell there had been loads of blood soaking into her skin. Hermione cried loudly, not caring if anyone heard. They would not ask anyway, not even Elaine, who had learned not to ask why she was crying.
Hermione got out a put on a robe. She hiccuped as she passed Esther, who looked rather excited. She shot her a snooty smile, which made Hermione need to look away as more tears fell. She grabbed a banana and a piece of toast with Nutella before residing to her room. She ate the two foods slowly, not wanting to get sick. Her stomach was tight, and she felt like if she spoke everything she wanted to say would come out along with bile.
When all was eaten, she moved some of her clothes back into her suitcase and zipped it shut. She made sure no one could see before storing it under her bed. Hermione took a deep breath, which shook and shivered as she breathed out.
She missed Draco. She missed Haley. She missed Lacey. She missed Harry, wherever he was. And dammit, she missed Ginny and Ron.
Hermione had three pillows. She placed one at her feet and two at her head, but tonight, she removed the coolest one beneath her head and hugged her to her body. She curled her legs around it and sobbed silently. She wished this pillow was more than a pillow. She wished it rose and fell with every breath it took. She wished it would kiss her forehead as she slept. She wished it protected her in the night and held her in the morning. She missed her love.
Not good enough. She was not good enough to play Coppélius' doll. She knew why she was picked. Because it was so hard it was going to break her. That's what Ms Gunin wanted...to see her damaged, broken, bent. Destroyed.
Not good enough for Draco. Not good enough for her life. Not good enough for this company. Not good enough. Not good enough for it. Never good enough.
Not. Good. Enough.
A/N: WHOA! This was a quick update, not even two weeks! I've just wanted to write this chapter for a while.
I hope you feel slightly confused at the conclusion of this chapter. If you know what's going on, then bravo/a to you!
I am super close to 400 reviews! Be the 400th, and I'll will mention you in the next chapter! I love you all so much, you are so amazing!
I will try and get the next chapter out as soon as I can, but since school is starting back up soon, it may not be until later, and during the school months, I will probably only update on weekends for the remainder of this fic and future ones!
You guys are so amazing to me! I'm thinking this will have about...three more chapters and then an epilogue? But don't worry, I have another fic idea called "Darts" that I think will interest a lot of you.
Please remember to Favourite, Follow, and Review! I love hearing from you all!
Kisses!
-Eagles xx
