5 - Sherry and Collette
It was Easter Sunday. Their second full day on the Italy trip had been their most exhausting yet. In the morning they had traveled to Naples, a place that everyone felt decidedly un-safe in. It reminded Hermione of London's red light district, Soho, with decaying buildings, rotting posters on the walls, and the streets littered with rubbish. Compared to the cozy, almost rural village of Sorrento, Naples looked dark and threatening.
Everyone clutched their bags tightly to them, as they flowed off the coach and onto the pavements. Ms. Peacock had taken them to see Naples' museum, which to tell the truth, no-one found interesting. Except perhaps Hermione.
It was your average museum, thought Ron, and he wove his way through marble statues, and Italian paintings. Despite the day being very sunny, inside the museum everyone was shivering, and Ms. Peacock had gone to enquire why it was freezing.
"I'm so cold," moaned Ginny. She was wearing her new outfit, a pink top with Phard written across the front, and her new baggy Phard jeans.
Hermione took off her fleece top, and handed it to her, despite the fact that she was now only dressed in spaghetti-strap top and shorts. She noticed with contempt that now Ginny was dressed in something that was fashionable, Lee had his arm around her, and was not even glancing at other girls.
"Boys", she snorted out loud.
While Ms. Peacock was away, most people gave up looking round, and sat on the white marble staircase, making a nuisance of themselves to other visitors.
After a couple of hours, Ms. Peacock said they could have a quick look in the gift-shop, and then they had to go.
"At last!" said Ron to Harry.
"What?" said Hermione, listening in.
"Hermione," said Harry slowly, as one might when speaking to a small child. "It's Easter Sunday. We don't have any chocolate. All gift shops sell chocolate."
"But…didn't you buy some in Sorrento just last night?"
"Yeah!" said Ron contemptuously. "But we ate it all yesterday!"
Hermione sighed at the one-track minds of boys' - their stomachs, and walked off.
She was choosing some postcards in the gift-shop, when she heard Ron, Harry and the twins come storming up.
"It's a bloody gift-shop, for Christ's sake," said Fred.
"What sort of a place doesn't sell chocolate?"
Hermione watched with amusement at their expressions. She glanced over at Ginny, who was watching the boys too. She looks how I feel, thought Hermione, and walked over. Taking Ginny by the arm, she steered her out of the gift-shop. Pulling a giant bar of Honeyduke's finest out of her shoulder bag, and breaking it in two, she said, "What separates the women from the men, Ginny?" as she passed her a chunk of the milk chocolate.
Ginny giggled, and shook her head. "Dunno."
"A brain," said Hermione, "and a bit of preparation."
*
Without even going back to the hotel for a break, Ms. Peacock bundled everyone back into the coach, and they set off for the sulphur springs.
It was nearing the middle of the day, and the heat was getting a little uncomfortable. Everyone was accustomed to cold, rainy, English weather.
They had a very strange guide, a man who Hermione thought must be at least over seventy, with a wiry white beard, bald head, and dark glasses obscuring a lot of his face. He was over-weight, and needed a stick to walk. It was a strange choice for a guide, she thought.
The ground was rough and rugged, and there were random pools of mud scattered around the vast expanse of land. Each pool looked perfectly normal until you got quite close, and saw there were large angry bubbles popping and surging on the surface.
Not many people bothered trying to decipher the guide's heavily Italian accented English, and only Hermione and a couple of other studious types were really taking it all in. The Weasley twins were more interested in trying to push each other in the scalding mud pools, and Ginny was checking her appearance in a small hand mirror.
Cho was listening, drone-eyed to some Muggle metal music she loved on her walkman; everyone was sick of her going on about how brilliant groups like Slipknot and Korn were. Most people preferred wizard bands, although Ginny's current favourite was an Irish band named Lifewest, who were too manufactured and poppish for most people's tastes.
Eventually Ms. Peacock managed to get a word in edgeways, as their guide was very eager to talk for as long as he could. She thanked him profusely and practically shoved the group back down to where the coach was waiting.
Then they went to Baiae, a similar place to Pompeii, with a name no one could pronounce, not even Ms. Peacock. It was the ruins of an ancient village, but unlike Pompeii, it was not chalky and dusty, but green, with grass and flowers growing everywhere. There were far fewer restrictions, in Pompeii, many places had been roped off so that people did not damage them, but it was not the case in Baiae. Soon everyone was climbing all over the ruins, and Weasley twins and Lee hoisting Ginny up on top of a building. It was agreed by everyone after the trip, when they were all back at Hogwarts, that Baiae was one of the best places they visited.
Ron and Hermione crawled into a cave-like place, and kissed. Hermione enjoyed it, but somehow it was not the same as it used to be. She didn't feel the same rush of emotion, the fireworks in her brain, her heart pounding a hundred times a minute, so she feared it was audible to all around. Kissing Ron used to be better than anything, he smelt of vanilla and ripe apples, and her whole body was on fire. But now, she didn't feel any of that. Hermione buried her face in his hair, feeling guilty. She wasn't even sure that she loved him. Perhaps I never did, she thought. Who I am to presume that I know what love is? I'm fifteen, what do I know about what love truly is?
Harry had tracked down Cho, and they were sitting on a wall, holding hands. Harry felt a great heaviness in his heart. He knew that Cho wanted more from him than he was willing to give. He was under-age by a year, and besides, he wasn't ready. But he knew Cho would leave him otherwise. He lent over, and kissed Cho on the tip of her nose. Cho pulled his face towards hers, and shut her eyes, kissing him, each time deeper, each time longer and firmer. She slipped a hand round onto his back, and rubbed it up and down, then slipped it underneath his shirt, and caressed his bare skin. Harry knew what she was asking, and he pulled away.
"Still thinking about it?" she asked coyly.
He nodded. Cho bent forward, purposefully revealing more cleavage, and whispered in his ear, "I won't wait much longer Harry."
She jumped lightly off the wall, and sashayed down the path.
Harry put his head in his hands. It did not cross his mind that someone who put pressures on you, does not really love you at all.
*
When they finally returned to the hotel, everyone was exhausted. Even Ms. Peacock looked slightly less chirpy than normal, and admitted travelling to three places in one day was a bit mad.
Hermione walked into her room, to find Cho bouncing around excitedly. The night before she had written an anguished letter to her father about her missing money. He had sent an owl by return of post. There it sat on Cho's bed, a giant Eagle Owl. It did not have the usual leather pouch attached to its leg, but a gilt box, plated with gold leaf, and inlaid with velvet. It was also wearing a silver collar around its neck. Cruelty to animals, thought Hermione. Who ever heard of an owl wearing a collar, especially not a heavy solid silver one. Inside the gilt box was a cheque for another million Lire, and a note from Cho's father, saying he would do everything he could to shut the hotel down.
"Look what Daddy's sent me!" Cho squealed. Hermione nodded politely, and flopped onto her bed. She had stopped feeling guilty for taking Cho' money, because Cho Chang deserved everything that came to her. Hermione just hoped Cho didn't find the Max Mara bag hidden at the bottom of the wardrobe. She would know Hermione could never afford a Max Mara dress.
Most people went to sleep until evening, and Hermione was one of them. When she woke, however, the room was deserted.
"Funny," she said to herself out loud.
She went and sat on the balcony outside their room, and watched people entering and leaving the hotel. Some were from her trip, but most were not.
It was dusk, and the rosy twilight fell on Hermione's face, casting her in a pink glow. She had changed into a plain black skirt that was ankle length, with a side split up to her knee, and a somber black jacket. She looked older than her fifteen years.
Hermione heard the door open. She did not look around to see who the footsteps belonged to, she already knew.
"Hermione?" Ron's voice penetrated her thoughts. "Dinner is in five minutes."
"Um…I'm not hungry. I'm not going to come."
"What? Why?"
"I've got a headache," Hermione sighed deeply. "Go without me."
"Fine," said Ron dismissively. "But you will be coming for an ice cream later, when everyone goes shopping?"
"No, I'm going to have an early night."
"Hermione! You're my girlfriend! Are you ashamed to be seen with me, or something? I asked you to come down to the shops yesterday, and you said no. Then I saw you in walking down the high street with Ginny! And now this!" Ron's tone of voice was getting steadily louder.
Something snapped in Hermione. "You vain, conceited little PRIG!" she screamed. Ron went white, and stepped back. "You think everything I do is to do with you! Well it's not! I have friends you know, you're not the centre of my universe!" Hermione screeched the last few words until she was hoarse.
Ron dropped his gaze, and walked quickly away. He paused at the door, his eyes burning with anger, then wrenched the door open. He stalked out, not bothering to shut it after him.
Hermione watched him go, then fell back onto the bed, starting to cry. Heavy sobs racked her whole body, and hot angry tears gashed down her face. The pain was choking her. She clutched the bed, as if for dear life.
She did not notice the two figures appear at her doorway, but jumped up when she heard the knock at the door. One of the girls had tapped tentatively on the oak paneling, and when they saw her sit up, they both walked in.
Hermione reached over to her bedside table, and wrenched a tissue out of the box. Swabbing angrily at her eyes with it, she said, in a shaky voice, "I'm sorry, can I help you?" Hermione took in the two girls properly for the first time. She had never seen them before, and they looked about her age. They were standing awkwardly. Hermione had never seen two people so unlike in all her life. One girl was tall and willowy. She had a sleek blonde bob, and had tanned skin and pink cheeks, with a smattering of freckles over her nose. She was dressed in a Lagoon tee-shirt and baggy jeans with sneakers. There was a small blue rose bud tucked in her ash-blonde hair. She looked friendly.
The other girl was very continental. She had amazingly long hair, almost down to her waist, and it was jet black and chocolate brown where the light caught it. Her eyes flashed, and were dark cocoa. She was very petite, small and thin. She was wearing a plain blue strappy summer dress.
The blonde girl spoke first, hesitantly. "We heard all that shouting, then your boyfriend stormed out…we wanted to see you were ok. He wasn't hitting you or anything?" Hermione could tell by her lilting accent that she was American.
"Oh no, just a row…"
"So are you? OK, I mean."
Hermione gazed into those concerned cornflower blue eyes, and felt her eyes flood with tears again. Both girls rushed forward, and the continental girl hugged her tightly. "Hey! Don't cry!"
"I'm sorry! You're really kind to come and see if I was alright."
The dark-haired girl leant back and held Hermione at arm's length.
"Right," she said. "I'm Collette, and this," she gestured towards the blonde girl, "is Sherry."
"Hi," said Sherry, the American. "Now tell us your problem."
So Hermione told them. She told them about her and Ron, and how she was scared she didn't love him. She said how Cho was cheating on Harry - "Not THE Harry Potter!" exclaimed Sherry at that point. "She's CRAZY!" and how Hermione had stolen Cho's money to buy clothes for her and Ginny. She explained about how Ginny was on the brink of losing her boyfriend Lee, and all the other facts in between. She cried a few times during telling them. But it was good to let it all out.
Speaking about it, confiding in someone was the tonic she needed, and suddenly she felt blissfully calm. When she had finished, Hermione said, "I'm sorry to pour all this out on you, perfect strangers, what was I thinking, so sorry…"
"Hermione! Shut up!" said Sherry, business-like. Hermione involuntarily jerked back, surprised.
"Don't mind Sherry, she's American!" said Collette rudely, grinning.
"Shut up, you!" yelled Sherry good-naturedly.
"What Sherry was trying to say," started Collette, sighing in mock desperation, "was that we came to you, we wanted to help." This time Hermione noticed Collete's flawless English was accented with Italian…but with a tilt of something else, she thought to herself.
Sherry bounced down on the bed, her blonde hair flying up, her eyes glittering. "We're glad to help, kid."
Hermione half smiled to herself. American accents are so sweet! she thought.
"Thank you," she answered demurely.
"Would you listen to that accent! It's SO cute!" said Sherry.
Woah, déjà vu, thought Hermione.
Suddenly Sherry jumped up. "All that angst has made me starving!" she made for the door. "Let's do lunch, sweeties!" in a mock English accent. Hermione shook her head in amazement, and Collette said, "Sherry, it's not lunchtime, it's evening."
But either Sherry didn't hear this, or she pretended not to. Sherry grabbed Collete's right hand, and Hermione's left, and dragged them, singing loudly, down the stairs to the dining room.
She's worse than Ms. Peacock, thought Hermione, half exasperated, half amused.
*
At dinner, Hermione had sat on the usual table, pulling up chairs for Collette and Sherry. She was about to introduce them, but they got there first.
"Hey guys! I'm Sherry Cranleigh, and I'm from the good old US of A!"
"Snap out of cheerleader mode," Collette told her, then introduced herself too. "Hi, I'm Collete Balatoni."
Hermione glanced round happily, Harry was talking to Sherry about what American Quidditch was like, and Collete was admiring Ginny's new dress. Hermione noticed Fred and George with their eyes on each girl. She knew that look by now, and grinned wryly to herself.
But her heart sunk when Ron spoke.
"I thought you had a headache," he said softly, each word dripping with sarcasm. His eyes flashed dangerously dark, and to her horror, Hermione knew she was afraid of him. This isn't the Ron I know, she thought desperately. Or thought I knew, she said to herself as an afterthought, sighing.
"So you're more interesting in meeting new airhead friends than spending time with me?"
Hermione ignored this. But the evening was ruined for her.
*
After dinner, Hermione had been dreading going back to her room, and facing Ron on his own, but amazingly Sherry seemed to read her mind.
"Come crash at ours tonight. We can have a girly chat for hours!"
Hermione shot her a grateful look, and whispered in Harry's ear, to let him know where she was going.
Once they were in Sherry and Collette's room, Hermione sighed with relief. The room was very similar to her own, but the balcony was a little larger, and the bathroom a little smaller. The walls were also painted in a ripe mango colour, instead of cream.
Hermione flopped on the bed, and then realised with horror that she did not have any of her night things. She couldn't face the possibility of meeting Ron if she went to fetch them. She voiced this to Sherry and Collette.
"Hey, you can skip brushing your teeth for one night," said Sherry easily, and Hermione shuddered. "Here, have one of my nightshirts."
Sherry rummaged through her chest of drawers, and tossed a black garment in the vague direction of Hermione. Hermione clawed at it, and dropped it. This is why you're no good at sport, she thought to herself. Hermione spread the night-shirt out. It was an over-sized black T-shirt, and it had Pearl Jam printed on the front in flaking silver letters.
"Pearl Jam?" she asked uncertainly, but Sherry had gone into the bathroom. Hermione thought of her own night dresses, ankle length, with pretty lace around the collar…and grinned.
"What'cha laughing at?" said Collette.
"Oh, nothing." Hermione saw Sherry come out of the bathroom, running a brush through her short caramel hair.
"So what are you doing in Sorrento then?" Hermione asked, directing it at Sherry, however both girls answered.
"Me and Sherry go to the same school, and we both live with the same foster mother," said Collette.
"I wanted to come to Italy to see what Collette's homeland was like. I'd never been abroad before - I thought we had it all in America, but I was so wrong," added Sherry.
"Why don't you live in Italy?" probed Hermione gently, then wished had not asked, as she saw Collette's cocoa coloured eyes swim with tears.
"I'm sorry," she almost whispered. "It's still so painful."
Hermione noticed Sherry's eyes fill with sympathy, and felt terrible for upsetting her.
"I'm sorry -" she started.
Sherry shook her head. "Don't be." And Collette nodded in agreement. She took a long, shuddering breath, then spoke again.
"It's a long story. I'm Italian by origin, but I live in America. I lived in Rome until I was eight, then…" Her voice tailed off. "My mother was murdered, along with many other people."
Hermione's mouth involuntarily dropped open with shock. "You-Know-Who?" she asked wonderingly, thinking of Harry's parents.
"No." Collette shook her head. "In Rome there are many Muggles. Young men have formed opposing gangs, and there is great rivalry between them. The two main gangs got into an argument, right outside St Peter's Cathedral, of all places. One of them pulled out a knife, but the members of the opposing gang all had guns. They fired them randomly, all over the place. Innocent victims, Muggles, Witches, Wizards, so many were killed. Just senseless violence." Collette's voice broke, but she carried on.
"Mamma was just in the wrong place, at the wrong time." She sighed raggedly. "I lived with Nona, my grandmother after that day, but she was old and frail, and died within the year.
"At the time, Italian orphanages were full up, there was a drop in the economy, no one could afford to adopt a child. The social worker in charge of my welfare was at her wit's end. She tried everything, you see I had no other living relatives in contact. All I know about my father is that he is…or was, British. He left Mamma when she was eight months pregnant with me. Men are such cowards."
Hermione saw her dark chocolate eyes flash with anger, and hurt for the father she had never met.
"My social worker - Caterina - then remembered some contacts she had in the US. Within three months she had found me an orphanage in Florida, and I flew out on my own to America. I've been there ever since, because Jill adopted me a year later. I live with Sherry."
Hermione felt herself choke up. How could anyone have lived such a terrible life in such a short time? So many let downs, so many tragedies.
Sherry told her story.
"I was given up for adoption when I was born. I know my Mom was fifteen when she had me, and my Dad was seventeen. They thought they were too young to take care of a kid, so they dumped me." Sherry's words were heavy. She was trying to make light of it, but Hermione could see her story hurt her too.
"Jill couldn't have kids. She's never told me why, I think there's something wrong with her cervix, or something like that. I stayed in the orphanage until I was five. I was practically past my sell-by-date! People only want sweet little blonde babies. But Jill chose me. It took her a long time to do all the legal stuff, I didn't get to live with her till I was seven."
Sherry flicked a wallet out of her bag, and showed Hermione a picture of a small blonde girl with plaits, holding the hand of a laughing woman.
"That's me and Jill, soon after I was adopted. I don't call her Mom, but she is really my mother - she raised me, she loved me.
"Then, when I was nine or ten, she decided she wanted to adopt another child. She chose Collette cause of her sad story. She managed to adopt her a lot quicker, seeing as she'd already adopted before, ya know?"
Collette took up the story. "Jill works at the same high school we go to. She's the secretary there, typing and stuff." Hermione then noticed what Collete's Italian accent was marked by; an American accent, the same as Sherry's.
The three of them chatted a little more, and eventually went to sleep. But Hermione stayed awake, worrying about how trivial her problems sounded, compared to Sherry and Collette, who had been through so much.