Bad Romance
Author's Note: Seriously, you guys ought to give yourselves major pats on your backs. Every chapter I am totally blown away by your intelligent reviews, helpful concrit, and general awesomeness. Every single review makes my day even more :) The past few weeks have been awful but I haven't really noticed, because every time something happens, I then get another sweet pm or review and then i'm grinning like a creeper again :P
A lot of you have been asking about chapter count. I don't have even the vaguest idea of how long this will be, which points to the fact that it will probably be longer than 35 chapters. In fact, it will probably be longer than 50 chapters…at the rate I'm going. This is getting kind of sad.
Also more hotness in this chapter….once again, imho :P And at YourBiggestFan's request, Hermione even gets a little dolled up. Just a little. Enjoy!
PLEASE REVIEW!
Chapter Twenty Nine: Disappearing Boy
After a harrowing week, Hermione was not really in prime condition to meet anyone important. Sadly, she was set to meet Geoffrey's family in Hogsmeade after the Quidditch match, and she couldn't decline at this point, especially since by taking her to the Yule Ball, he was doing her an enormous favor. Luckily, Geoffrey had stopped grumbling about being her date, and had instead taken every opportunity to goad Hermione into slapping someone—all the better if they were a Slytherin— again. She seemed to have earned a new level of respect from both Geoffrey and Rupert, and also now, whenever she passed by any of Tom's friends, she was rewarded with the sight of them cowering slightly in her presence. Even Alphard seemed a little afraid of her. The distance between them made her anger at him begin to ebb away, and as he seemed to be done with flaunting his courtship of Hyacinth in her presence, Hermione began to wonder if maybe they ought to just try a little harder to make up.
Saturday dawned bright and bitingly crisp. Unsure of what to wear to meet Geoffrey's family, Hermione smoothed out her hair with hair potion and tried to assemble the most era-appropriate outfit out of the clothing she owned. She left Gryffindor Tower that morning with Rupert wearing dark grey tights, her black ballet flats that she always wore to school, her pleated skirt from her uniform, and a maroon sweater of Ron's. She had stolen it from him and thus far avoided wearing it, due to the grief it caused her because it had smelled like him. The scent of Ron had faded from the jumper now and she felt safe wearing it. She topped it off with her favorite peacoat and a bright beret and matching scarf, and even was compelled to add a bit of subtle makeup. When Rupert saw her, his eyes widened.
"Hermione, you look so…" he paused, studying her as they walked, "…girly," he finally said. Hermione shot him a short-lived glower. She couldn't stay in a bad mood for too long; she did feel a little more confident, and she was excited to sit with Rupert and Amelia and cheer on Geoffrey.
"I don't think Geoffrey would appreciate it if I showed up to meet his family looking like a troll," said Hermione dryly. She slipped on a pair of mittens and wrapped her scarf tighter as they stepped out into the late autumn air. Amelia was already walking to the pitch ahead of them, but waited when Rupert caught her attention. She was wearing a Gryffindor scarf, and when they caught up to her, Hermione was pleased to see her greet Rupert with a peck on the cheek. While Rupert seemed to float alongside them, Amelia fell into step with Hermione.
"You look so cute!" she said cheerily. She drew closer and lowered her voice. "Dressing up for Black?" she teased. Hermione scowled.
"Of course not. I'm meeting Geoffrey's family today, and he's always going on about how unattractive I am."
Amelia shook her head and laughed.
"How polite of him."
"That's Geoff for you," Rupert said good-naturedly. He seemed to have recovered from Amelia's kiss, for Hermione saw him slip his hand into the Hufflepuff Seeker's hand. She smiled but somehow, felt a stab of melancholy that was hard to quite shake off. I never even had time to walk hand-in-hand with Ron, she thought glumly. By this time they had reached the stands and Hermione's depressing ponderings were overtaken by the cheers of the fans. Hermione sat on Amelia's other side, a bit awkward as Amelia and Rupert snuggled together on the bench.
The commentator announced the arrival of the Slytherin team. Alphard strode out onto the pitch. As his team took their places around him, Hermione's breath caught as he looked up directly at her. She felt Amelia jab her side.
"Look! He's looking for you," she hissed excitedly. Hermione made a show of rolling her eyes, but she couldn't help but notice how he did seem to have been searching the Gryffindor side of the stands. Even from afar, their eyes met, and Alphard looked away first. Hermione's depressing thoughts returned unexpectedly. If you were just willing to go further with Alphard, maybe you could be walking about the grounds, holding hands with him. It seemed a long time ago that Alphard had stolen away from his team after a Quidditch match to take her underneath the stands. Hermione's jaw clenched. But I know who I am…and I'm not the type of girl to just give in like that. That being said, it wasn't like they couldn't be friends, at the very least… Again, Rupert's analysis of Alphard returned to her in bits and pieces.
The match began. It was rather disappointing to see how mismatched Alphard and Geoffrey were as Seekers; Alphard was nothing special, but Hermione regretted how she always noticed that Geoffrey simply wasn't cut out to be a Seeker. It felt disloyal to always be noting that Geoffrey simply wasn't very good at Quidditch, in the same way that she had always felt disloyal when she had noted Ron's lack of Quidditch skill.
"POTTER! POTTER! POTTER!" Rupert and Amelia whooped. On the other side, the Slytherins were screaming Alphard's name. Alphard circled above the pitch just as he seemed to circle round Hermione's thoughts. Maybe Rupert was right, and he doesn't really care about going further. Perhaps he just wanted to give a more acceptable reason for his anger. All in all, Hermione was filled with the uncomfortable feelings of being disloyal, both for thinking of Geoffrey as bad at Quidditch and for considering relenting and forgiving Alphard.
The Gryffindor team was perhaps, as a whole, a better formed team than the Slytherin team, but Alphard outmatched Geoffrey by far, and compensated for his team's lack of coordination. The Gryffindors scored. Hermione could not take her eyes off of Alphard as she remained lost in thought.
"You're looking fetching today. Hoping to win back Black?"
Hermione didn't bother turning to the person who had sat next to her, and instead help up a mittened hand, threatening to slap again. She heard Tom laugh his familiar baritone laugh. Did it have to be such a hypnotic sound? He was sitting much too close; their legs were pressed against each other and their arms brushed every time either of them moved—which was often, because Tom was continuously turning to attend to someone greeting him. There was plenty of room on the benches and yet they were sitting close enough that they could have been mistaken for a couple. Hermione's breathing became shallow. She could just barely detect his scent, this close, and it made her want to draw in closer. Instead she clenched her fists and rested them on her thighs.
"I'm meeting Geoffrey's family," she said shortly. She spared Tom a glance. Girls around them were trying to catch his attention and preening vigorously, but Tom's dark eyes were on the match above. Once in a while, he would greet them if they called out his name. Otherwise, his fangirls went ignored. It was gratifying to see how they clamored for his attention and how pointless it was. He looked at her and their eyes met. Hermione shivered despite the heat that was crawling up her spine at their close contact. Tom's eyes roved over her thoughtfully; his gaze lingered on her legs.
"You ought to dress up more often; you just might help Gryffindor win this match," he said with a smirk. He pointed at the Quidditch players. Alphard was looking over his shoulder at her and missed Geoffrey take a sudden dive.
"He's seen the Snitch!" Hermione cried excitedly. For an instant she forgot about how close she was to Tom, and jumped slightly in her seat to better watch Geoffrey. The consequent contact Tom sighed.
"And Black was too busy ogling you to pay attention," he said mournfully. Alphard heard the boos of the Slytherins and took a swift dive as he broke his gaze from Hermione. He sped up and followed Geoffrey's nose dive. He caught up and the boys knocked into each other. The Snitch glinted in the sun and shot up into the air; the force with which Alphard and Geoffrey had hit each other caused them to plummet off their brooms. The crowd gasped, Hermione stood up out of the bench and clapped her hands over her mouth as the two Seekers hit the ground with a crack that was audible even from where she and Tom stood.
The referee called a time-out; Alphard and Geoffrey were helped up off the ground, glowering at each other. They remounted their brooms and the match resumed.
"I ought to go catch up with Augusta." he paused and leaned in closer, so that his lips were nearly brushing against the shell of her ear. Hermione stared resolutely forward, not taking in her surroundings or the goings-on of the match at all. Tom dropped his voice lower, so that only she could barely hear him. "Maybe if you show some leg next time, you'll really win the match for Potter." His tone was wicked; his fingers seemed to 'accidentally' brush her upper thigh at the hem of her skirt. Even through the thick grey wool of her stockings, Hermione felt like he had burned her. "Anyway, see you around; good luck meeting Potter's parents!" Tom finished brightly as he stood. Hermione recovered in time to watch him greet everyone as he passed by. Faintly she recalled that it was the duty of the Head Boy and Head Girl to patrol during Quidditch matches for any behavior that could be described as 'poor sportsmanship.'
"I think you're the envy of the entire female population," Amelia said with a laugh after Tom was out of earshot. Rupert looked uncharacteristically sulky for a moment, but when Amelia snuggled against his chest, he evidently promptly forgot to sulk. Hermione shook her head, chuckling to herself, and then tried desperately to pay attention to the match. But she could not quite shake the tingling warmth that had spread through her body from Tom's touch. She was grateful that no one had seen that. But it seemed that no one had missed how close they had been sitting. Now that he was gone, she greatly noticed the cold air.
Despite his distractions, Alphard caught the Snitch and won the game. Hermione went with Rupert and Amelia to console Geoffrey. He was silent and refused to speak to any of them, though just before he left to shower he informed Hermione that she was to meet him outside of the Three Broomsticks at one o'clock. With hours to go before then, Hermione decided to give Rupert and Amelia some privacy. She excused herself, saying she wanted to buy a present for Geoffrey's mother. Her parents had taught her that this was the thing to do, so it was not entirely a lie. Nevertheless, Rupert nodded discretely at her before leading Amelia to one of the more romantic cafes in Hogsmeade, and Hermione gave him a private grin before sending them off.
For a while, Hermione wandered about the shops. What to give to Geoffrey's mum? She finally decided on a box of Honeydukes chocolates, though her cheeks burned as she recalled the taste of it. Hermione window shopped for a bit, looking absently for Christmas presents for Geoffrey and Rupert, though not coming to any conclusions. Finally it was time to meet Geoffrey. She made her way back towards the main section of Hogsmeade, and ducked into a sidestreet that was barely bigger than an alley when she saw Tom, Alphard, and their usual crowd walking about. She waited for them to pass, but when she heard their voices, she began walking down the alley. She'd have to take a roundabout way to meet Geoffrey. Fearing being late, she quickened her pace, but froze when she heard footsteps.
Alphard was tentatively approaching her; they were shadowed by the buildings on either side of them.
"A-alphard," Hermione stammered, feeling her face grow hot. Alphard averted his eyes as he came to a stop a few feet away from her.
"Hermione," he said a bit breathlessly. Hermione chewed on her lip as an awkward silence seemed to stretch on forever between them.
"Good job at the match," she said finally as an excuse to break the silence. Alphard gave her an unsteady half-smile. It was so strange to see him look so meek, especially after the defiance with which he had been ignoring her for so long. He took a step closer to her. Somewhere in the back of her mind, Hermione registered that she was going to be late. "I-I have to go," she announced, turning away. Alphard stepped closer and gripped her shoulder.
"Wait. You're always running away," he said. "I just…" he seemed to falter. Hermione looked back at him. In spite of everything, there was a large part of her that wanted to make things work between them. Perhaps it was her desire to rid her mind of thoughts of Tom, perhaps it was her loneliness, but most likely it was that she genuinely did like being around Alphard. …When he wasn't being a total prat, of course.
"I'm supposed to meet Geoffrey's family," Hermione said after a moment. She drew in a deep breath, steeling her will. "Is there something you wanted?"
The heat in his brown eyes was unmistakable.
"Yeah, there is," he finally said after swallowing. "There is something I want. But I'm worried someone else has it, and I want to know if it's mine or not."
Hermione knew what he was trying to say. She turned away abruptly in spite of the war occurring inside her.
"Maybe it's no one's." she paused. Alphard was staring probingly at her. "I'm going to be late," she muttered, and walked away.
Hermione made her way to the Three Broomsticks, feeling unsettled. Mine. It seemed such a strong label. It had so very many implications… some of which were more worrisome than others. I'm worried someone else has it. Recalling these words made the bile rise in her throat; his implication was crystal clear. And the thought of Tom 'having' her, to use Alphard's phrasing, was a thought that was just too much to handle. Hermione really thought she might simply melt then and there. It took several moments of deep breaths and thinking of simple, happy things before she felt safe in her own mind again.
