A/N: This idea sort of just came to me while I was relaxing at home. I don't have too much experience writing, but I've had this account for a while and read quite a few fanfictions, so I thought I'd give this a go.
Disclaimer: Any recognizable characters, ideas, items, or themes belong to J.K. Rowling. I'm not attempting to take credit for any of her work, nor am I profiting off this story.
Hermione Granger loved the rain, especially rain like today's. It reminded her of her childhood, stopping in puddles with her father and catching frogs with her mother.
Tilting her head to the sky, she allowed herself to inhale the scent,getting lost in it as well as the memories of a happier time.
"Mione, are you ready to come inside?"
Harry's voice startled her. She turned to look at him, a sad smile plastered on her tired face.
Shaking her head, she replied, "No, I think I'd like to stay out here a little longer if that's alright with you."
"At least let me bring you out an umbrella," the wizard offered.
"The rain is refreshing. It's nice to feel something."
He nodded in understanding. The silence between them was heavy, weighing on both of them.
"Can I sit with you at least? I don't think I want to go back in either."
The pair felt out of place in the grevience of the Burrow. Fred wasn't their brother, nor their son, just someone they had known. Even calling him a friend might be a stretch. Mourning for him in a house full of his family was difficult; both of them felt that they didn't have as much of a right to be
upset as the other occupants of the house.
His funeral had been today, almost two full months after he had passed. A small, quiet service was held, followed by dinner at the Burrow. As always, Molly had done a wonderful job cooking. After eating,
Hermione felt she was suffocating being around the rest of them, so she'd gone out to the garden to catch her breath a bit.
"Of course you can," she answered.
Harry sat down next to her, letting his head fall onto her shoulder, silent tears streaming down both of their faces. Nearly half an hour passed with them lying like this, trying to find comfort in one another. Eventually, they dragged themselves back inside.
Hermione said her goodbyes, giving hugs where appropriate and accepting a plate of leftovers from Mrs. Weasley.
She apparated into the living room of her apartment. She'd gotten herself a place in muggle London after selling her parents' old house. Although small, it was a charming little flat.
After much convincing of her landlord, she'd taken the time to paint the walls a light gray. Next, she lined every wall possible with bookshelves full of wizarding and muggle literature alike, everything from Shakespeare to Bathilda Bagshot. Finally, she covered the rest of the open space with pictures of her time at Hogwarts that she'd charmed to remain still just in case her neighbors were ever over.
Despite her best efforts, Hermione had yet to make the place feel like home. Something was off, but she hadn't been able to discover what that was yet.
Making her way to her bathroom, she turned on the hot water, beginning to strip off her clothes. Once it was the right temperature, Hermione stepped under the water, letting it fall all over her skin.
Grabbing her loofah, she put a pump of soap on it and began scrubbing her skin. Everything on her felt dirty. No matter how hard she scrubbed, she hadn't felt clean in months.
She paused when she reached her scar. She hated it. She hated the constant reminder that so many people thought of her as less. She hated that she would forever be stuck with the ugly word scratched into her arm. She hated Bellatrix for doing this to her. She hated that she had relived the memory of receiving it so many times in her dreams.
Dropping the soap-covered loofah, the witch fell to the floor, a choked sob falling through her lips.
"It's not fair!" she shouted. "Why me? It's not fair! It's not fair!"
Fattears rolled down her cheeks as she sobbed so hard her whole body shook. She clawed at her skin as though she could rip the wordoff her flesh. She wanted it gone.
She wasn't sure how long she remained like that, but by the time she could finally think straight again, the water had gone cold, her arm was bleeding, and her nails were full of blood.
Slowly, she got up, rinsed herself off, and exited the frigid water. After drying herself off, making sure to be extra delicate around the new wounds she'd created, Hermione put on her robe and made her way into her bedroom.
She pulled her wand from her bedside table and slowly rolled up the sleeve of her robe. She gently pressed the tip of her wand toher skin, mumbled a few words, and watched as the skin repaired itself. Rolling her sleeve back down, she crawled under the covers and prayed to Merlin that she'd have a night of dreamless sleep.
Stirring slowly, Hemrione blinked awake. Sunlight streamed in through her curtains. Stretching a bit, the witch slowly sat up.
After giving herself a bit of time to properly wake up, she got out of bed to get dressed, brushed her teeth, and made an attempt to tame her curls for the day.
Walking into her kitchen, she began to open cabinets in search of something to make.
After a few minutes of uninspired searching, she decided she'd take a trip to the cafe down the street from her building.
Beaded-bag and keys in hand, Hermione made her way out of the apartment, locking the door behind her. She eyed the elevator for a moment before deciding to just take the stairs. Elevators made her naseous.
It was an awfully hot day, sweat building on her skin after only a few moments of being outside. Leisurely, she made her way down the sidewalk.
A bell chimed on the door when she walked into the cafe. The woman behind the register, a young girl who was working a summer job there, looked up, smilling at her.
"Good morning, Hermione. What can I get you?"
Hermione smiled back. "Good morning, Allie. Alarge lavender tea with extra sugar and two blueberry muffins, please," she replied, walking up to the counter.
Allie gasped. "Hermione, you look exhausted! Go, go, sit. I'll bring it to you as soon as it's ready."
"Thanks, Al," she said with a smile, walking over to her usual booth and pulling a book from her bag.
She scanned the small cafe. They were quite empty for a Saturday morning, the only other occupants being an elderly couple in the opposite corner of the shop.
Letting her attention shift, Hermione dropped her gaze down to her book, opening it and beginning where she left off. Pride and Prejudice had always been one of her absolute favorite classics. Jane Austen had a beautiful way of writing, in her opinion. This must be her fifth or sixth time reading the novel.
A few minutes passed before Allie brought over her order and a slip of paper with the bill on it.
"Hermione, are you alright?" the girl asked as she set it down.
"I'm okay, Al, just had a rough night is all. Thank you for checking."
"Okay, if you say so. Just remember I'm here if you need to talk to someone. I get off at noon."
Allie walked back to the counter right as the bell on the door chimed again, drawing Hermione's attention.
"Holy shit."
The words fell from her mouth out of instinct. She hadn't even processed that she'd said them.
The man who'd walked in was all too familiar; his platinum blonde hair and striking blue eyes would be burned into her mind forever.
He looked awful, deep purple bags under his eyes. The man made his way up to the counter and placed his order. Allie was her usual cheery self, but she obviously didn't recognize the man. He'd begun to look around for a place to sit when his eyes locked with Hemrione's.
She looked down instantly, anxiety budding in her chest.
What the hell was Draco Malfoy doing here?
A/N: Please let me know what you think! Comments and DMs with any feedback at all is much appreciated!