Thanks for all the reviews of this chapter and the one before. I made a lot of
mistakes in the chapter when I originally posted it. I should have had someone
take a look at the file before I posted it. Sorry about that. It's been checked
by friend now.
Thanks to Chris for doing it :)
- Nappa
For Money and Property?
Hermione's morning after her night of binge drinking was far more than a
nightmare. It was horrid, and it was all too real.
It all started when the sunlight came streaming through the windows, and
caressed her delicate skin. As the sunlight warmed up her soft, supple features,
Hermione was getting annoyed at the light, rather than feeling the normal
sensation of near-bliss that she usually associated with it. The light was too
hot, she concluded.
Her eyes fluttered open and when the bright and vibrant colours finally stopped
wiggling inside her half-opened eyes, she felt even worse. The world that she
knew was too loud. The birds outside were making a lot of noise - far too much
for her to remember which species they were. Hermione could normally recite them
off the top of her head by what melodious sound they made. She normally loved to
wake up to them. "Blasted headache," Hermione murmured to herself, but then
moaned out again, as her murmur had been too loud, as well. Little did she know
that her torment was just beginning.
Harry had used magic to restrain her to the sofa, but she did not know that.
Therefore, when Hermione did try to roll off the couch in an attempt to crawl to
the kitchen, and get some water to quench her thirst, she managed to roll the
entire couch on top of her. It was rather fortunate that the heavy couch did not
pin her down totally, as the backrest had hit the top of the tea table and made
a tent that had her pinned in between. When she finally realized what had
happened, she could not help but think of herself in a high regard. She thought
to cast a restraining charm on herself even in the drunken stupor. The reasons
for her stupor did not pose a question in her mind - the priority was to
retrieve the wand that was jabbing at her side. Hermione wanted to remove the
spell, but it took a bit of effort to twist herself into a less restrictive
position to reach for the wand, and when she had, she tried to cast the spell -
unsuccessfully. It was really odd, since the wizard or witch that had cast a
spell could easily dispel their work for minor curses, and it was a minor curse.
Strong witches and wizards could do the same for other wizards and witches too.
Hermione did not panic when she had not been able to do it. It was not unheard
of for a person under the influence of drugs or mind control spells not being
able to remove a spell. She did stop to consider if someone else had cast the
spell, but she dismissed it. Harry was the only one that could come into the
house uninvited - one of many exceptions to the magical laws that he seemed to
be exempt from. Harry was not careless about her; that much she knew. And since
he was the only one that could break into the house past her self-made security
wards without alerting the Ministry Aurors, she didn't think anyone else could
have come into the house, either. As such, it had to be her who had cast the
spell. It just had to be. She wasted no more time thinking about silly security
wards - she was thirsty.
By the time Hermione did manage to undo the spell she had almost lost the cloud
that hung inside her mind. Things were a lot clearer now, though the headache
and hypersensitivity were altogether different things. Sliding out from under
the sofa through the small triangular gap, she was tempted for a second to tip
the sofa back, when she got up, but resisted. It would make an awful lot of
noise, and she was not ready for that yet. She hobbled out to the kitchen.
Hermione was too thirsty to think about anything else and the thirst grew as
distance between her and the fridge grew smaller. She yanked at the door, and
the whole fridge made a noise of protest. She reached into the fridge to where
she could remember she had placed the bottle of cold water, last - only to
retrieve an empty bottle. It took her longer than it had ever taken her to
process the fact that she had an empty bottle in her hand. Hermione was not the
typical girl to chill an empty bottle. It could not have been anyone else
either, since Muggles would have been sent home thinking that they had reached
the wrong house - had they tried to break into the house. It had to have been
Harry that had done it, she decided, closing the door to the fridge, but not
before placing the empty bottle inside.
Frustrated that she had no chilled water, she forgot about being a witch, and
how she was able to conjure water at will; she reached to the sink, instead, and
turned the water jet on at full blast. When she tried to then drink from her
clasped hand, a mishap happened. Water as cool as the fridge water would have
been hit her hand full force and splashed all over her front. The chilling water
was a wakeup call that was like the proverbial sledgehammer to a glass window.
The headache was still there - bigger than ever - but reality was very clear. It
was no longer a set of fuzzy images. They had their sharpness now, and Hermione
began to long for the haziness. She was beginning to remember why she had gotten
drunk the night before. Hermione turned the water jet down a bit and then
splashed herself with more water - a last ditch attempt to hopefully wake up
from this nightmare. When that didn't work, she grumpily started to make her way
to the hot water jug. 'Maybe the tea will wake me out of this...' Hermione
thought, adding first two tea bags, and then changing her mind to add two more.
With the hot cup of tea in her hand, she made her way back into the living room.
She had a date with her sofa - she planned to put it upright, and then sleep the
rest of the day, hoping that maybe avoiding the problem would make it go away.
However the whole morning was about to take a very unpleasant turn. She walked
into the living room to find that Oliver Wood, her ex-boyfriend, was sitting on
the sofa across the corner. She took a sip of her tea without blowing on it, on
the assumption that if it didn't hurt, she was in a nightmare; which she wanted
to part from, and if it did, she was in reality, and that hurt she would be
feeling would take away some of the other that Oliver had caused a few days ago.
It hurt.
It burned actually.
Oliver looked good as always. Hit outfit -- a blue shirt and black jeans --
suited him. He looked taller than he really was, and it gave his personality a
depth that she had never felt from him. He looked handsome and attractive; she
hated him for it. "You know, 'Mione..." Oliver started; whatever Hermione had
felt for him evaporated.
Hermione barked out, "Don't call me that!"
He, in response, started to smile at her, and then started to goggle at her like
she was the latest model of broomstick. She would have checked to see what was
making Oliver behave like that - he had certainly never looked at her like he
looked at broomsticks; nor had she ever seen him look like that at her or anyone
in the time she had known him. She didn't check because that would have meant
admitting that she wanted him ever to look at her like that; it would have been
too much of a victory to give to Oliver.
She wondered how he had entered the house; it put her belief that Harry was the
only one to break into the house into question. Oliver was certainly not the
best wizard that she knew; not even in the same grade as the most capable ones,
needing her help all throughout his school life to just barely graze through.
This puzzle would have intrigued her more, normally, but this was not a normal
time in her life. She was amidst a personal and financial crisis and she wanted
nothing to do with Oliver, now. She wanted nothing to do with men; they would
just add to her confusion and clutter her mind. It frustrated her, instead, that
he was there. Her love of puzzles did not survive when men behaved like idiots
in front of her. The look she wanted from him all the time they were together,
she now thought was the sign of his stupidity. Hermione had had enough of him
looking like that. Her left hand went to her hip and as she leaned forward
slightly, she said, " What," the annoyance plain her voice, "are you looking
at?" She had had enough, and letting him win a little did not concern her. She
wanted him out of her house and preferably out of her life.
"Almost nothing." He said - whispering almost to himself.
Hermione scrunched her nose and eyebrows in confusion. " What?" She shook her
head as she said it.
Oliver sat up and Hermione could have had sworn that she saw his smile turn
smug. She wondered if it had been wise to let him win a little. When he was
standing right in front of her, he said, very clearly and in the huskiest voice
he could manage, "I've never seen this much skin on you in all the times we've
been together."
Hermione looked slowly down. It was almost as if when Oliver had said, she had
realized that her front was soaking wet and left nothing to the imagination. It
boggled her mind that somehow she had felt the coolness when she had tried to
drink water, but after that - she felt nothing. Hermione made a small yelp and
let go of her glass of hot tea. It would have had scolded Oliver's skin and
hers, had he not caught it in midair.
Hermione, on the other hand, went for the blanket that was strewn nearby under
the sofa. She grabbed it and wrapped herself in it. After covering herself with
it twice around her body, she put the sofa between her and Oliver. She only then
spoke to him, when she felt like she was not standing in front of him - naked.
When she did, she yelled. "Get out!" She did not care for an explanation as to
how he had entered the house or why she did not feel the wet clothes sticking to
her. She did not care to know why he was there. She just wanted him out.
"Geez, Hermione!" He said to her, looking like he had been insulted. "I save you
from the hot tea and this is the treatment I get?" His words were like Déjà vu
to Hermione. Harry had said the same things to her the day before. The
similarities between the events were uncanny. Harry had saved her from hot
chocolate - he from tea. Harry had come for her to tie the tie. Oliver she did
not know why - but she could care less. It was then that she noticed for the
first time how similar Harry and Oliver were. They both fit the tall, dark and
handsome category to the tee. Harry was the darker of the two and Oliver was the
nicer of the two to her. Though after the way Oliver had surprised her a few
days ago, she wasn't sure if that was true. Oliver may have been the less
womanizing one, but to her knowledge, Harry had not cheated on girls that he
went out with. It would have been on the news, otherwise.
"Out!" Hermione yelled again. Her hand inside the blanket made a tent pointing
at the door, making Oliver just look on even more smugly. Hermione cursed
herself that she had let Oliver "win". Oliver was not a graceful winner, and she
knew a price was yet to be paid for showing her annoyance.
She didn't have to wait long. "And suppose I don't..." He put the tea down on
the table and spread his feet on the ground a bit, kind of like he was getting
ready to be tackled to the ground by Hermione. 'Like he' a human paperweight.'
Hermione, under normal circumstances, would have shown a smile at that amusing
thought, but she did not. She was just too irritated. "...What'll you do?"
Oliver said, waving his arm like he was trying to get Hermione into even more of
a worked up state. "'Specially since you'll have to take the blanket off to fire
curses at me, Miss Granger."
Hermione had not thought what she would have had done. Things were just too
confusing at that moment. Not only was Oliver making a pest of himself, but she
was also still very upset about the possibility of losing her only memories of
her mother to Harry. She was sure that being the kind of man Harry was, he'd
tear down her house and build some kind of community project - just a way to get
some more women to flock to him. She would have done anything for an
interruption, then... almost anything. But when the interruption did come to her
aid, she was not sure if she wanted it.
"I want to know that, too." Said a bemused voice. Hermione looked to the door,
and saw that Harry was leaning against the frame with his hands folded across
his chest. He looked rather dashing, too - more so at that time - Hermione
realized that Harry was looking more appealing than he had ever appeared before,
as if to make her life more miserable.
" You!" She sputtered out, " - Out, too."
She looked to Oliver and was going to tell him to leave, but he was looking at
Harry, and Harry was looking at Oliver. And neither seemed to be interested in
what she had to say. They were giving each other a sort of look that she could
not totally comprehend. It seemed to her it was a strange mixture of admiration,
palpable hatred, and jealousy. Then it struck her - they were evaluating each
other. Seeing how they rank next to each other. Just to prove her right, Harry
and Oliver both drew in a breath and it inflated their chests. 'They're trying
to intimidate each other,' Hermione thought. 'It's like that article about the
apes!' She thought incredulously. It had been an article on how males of a
specific species of apes inflated their chest and beat on them to intimidate
each other for the right to choose a mate. Hermione normally would have had
disapproved of this kind of behaviour, but she wanted to encourage it now. Not
because it made her feel like two men were fighting over her; no, that was not
it all... - she wanted one of them to take the other out, so she only had one to
deal with. It would have been even better, if they knocked each other out,
leaving her with two unconscious bodies to deal with.
When nothing happened, Hermione tried to guess who was winning. It seemed to her
that Oliver was winning, but she was proven wrong when Oliver let go of his
breath. Hermione was disappointed. She wanted to see Harry lose. She needed to
see Harry lose.
Harry looked triumphant, but unlike what she had expected, Harry did not go on
and on and on about it. He said to Oliver, instead, "Those Ruby Rabbits sure had
a good go at your team last weekend."
Oliver joined into the chat like nothing had happened. Then again, Hermione was
not certain if anything did happen. "They did; McNelly was in top form..."
Oliver started to say.
"AGH!" Hermione screamed. "Quidditch! STOP IT!" Both men looked at her like she
was mad. It irked her. She could feel pressure building on the side of her head,
and in a vein on her forehead. "Oliver! What're you doing here, and how the hell
did you get in?"
Oliver got ready to open his mouth, when Harry started to say that he would like
to know, too, but Hermione had not finished talking yet. "And YOU!"
Harry made an innocent face, as if he did not know why Hermione should be upset
with him. "Why're you back again? I thought after yesterday..." Harry looked
genuinely shocked, but he recovered quickly, "...you weren't supposed to show!"
"Well..." Harry started, but she stopped him loudly again.
"No! He's first!" Hermione said, pointing to Oliver.
Oliver and Harry looked to each other. Harry resisted the temptation to laugh at
himself being treated like a child. But he didn't. For now he was more
interested in Oliver's explanation.
"Erm..." Oliver started, slowly.
"Go on, I don't have the entire day." Hermione's voice broke halfway through it.
Her voice box had been through more exercise than she had ever given it. Stress
was truly getting to her.
"I'm actually here to see Mister Pot..." He started to be very formal to Harry,
but then changed his mind. "...I mean, Harry. I was passing by so I thought I'd
look in on you."
Hermione's mouth fell open. She was dealing with Oliver because he wanted to
"look in" on her. Her eye started to twitch. Had he not been the one to break to
her heart? Why was he still making her life so utterly terrible? Why did men
just want to make her life so complicated? Harry did not wait for Hermione's
permission to speak. "I saw him sneaking around the house trying to get in, so I
thought I'd see what he was up to. But then..."
Hermione ignored Harry and asked Oliver, "How did you get in?" She started
rubbing her temples.
Oliver took out a set of brass keys from his cloak pocket, and why he had them
came flooding back to her mind. She had made him a set because she wanted to
take their relationship to a level beyond what they were in, then. She held pent
up anger and frustration and managed to say, "So you came here to see Harry?"
Oliver nodded and Hermione snatched the keys from him. Oliver quickly set about
looking at the scratch that Hermione had made when she roughly grabbed the keys
from his hand.
"And you came to see Oliver?"
When Harry nodded, Hermione gathered up more of the loose blanket around
herself, and started to walk up the stairs.
"Where're you going?" Asked Oliver, confused.
"Since neither of you actually came to talk to me, I'm going to go and have a
sleep." She said, "And when I get back, I would appreciate it if both of you
gentleman were not here." Neither of the boys said anything. After waddling up
the stairs she stopped midway and turned to say, "Harry?"
"Yeah?" Harry did not expect Hermione to address him, again. He wondered what
she wanted. "Can you please put the sofa back when you go?"
Harry didn't reply to that, nor did Hermione expect him to. She just wanted him
to not do it so that she could gripe about it and hate Harry for it. She really
needed to hate Harry, and him coming over to check up on her and making sure
that she was safe was making it hard for her to hate the man that could
unknowingly take away all that was valuable to her.
" So why did you need to see me, Oliver?" Harry asked Oliver when Hermione was
out of earshot. Oliver in response took out a pink envelope and handed it to
him. Harry could smell the vanilla and peach combination that was unique to only
one woman Harry knew - Ginny.
~o0o~
Hermione went right into her room and considered what to do when she was at the
door to the bathroom. She could either soak in the marble tub in a bubble bath,
or have a warm, refreshing shower. Discarding the clothes fast, she decided that
she needed to have a shower - not soak in her own filth. The warm water was
cathartic, washing away more than just dirt and soap scum from her body. It took
away a lot of the tension. As she dried herself, she wondered what it was that
made men be total pigs to her. 'First, it had been...' she started to think, but
then she decided that she needed to have some rest. There would be time later
when she could gripe about men, she decided, as she drew the covers over
herself.
It didn't take long before the sleep consumed her; it felt to her as though only
mere seconds had passed, when she awoke. A quick splash on the face with some
water had her refreshed, and ready for a busy night. She had a lot to clean up.
She had to order to some books about the muggle law system and see what she
could do about her situation. As much as she wanted to leave everything to the
lawyer/doctor/postman/etc.... she didn't have a choice. She would not feel right
if she just left it all upon him. It would hound her if she lost all of it
because she was just lazy to do some work herself.
When she came downstairs, she found the room tidy. She checked to see if the
kitchen was tidy, as well. It was. All the water on the floor was gone. The
kitchen-top was clean. The fridge had the empty bottle, though. Hermione wasn't
stupid enough to think that Harry had put the sofa in its right place; nor was
she stupid enough to think that Harry would have cleaned the kitchen for her.
Even if it would have been just a wave of the wand for him to get the result she
wanted. She thanked Oliver that he had been as kind as he had been.
She looked through the pantry and found a packet of pasta. Hermione went into
one of the cupboards and found one of the pots. She filled it with two glasses
of water, put it on the stove, and brought it to a boil. She then accurately
measured a half cup of milk - when she got a bit too much, she put most of the
milk back, and then started again. She took a big spoon out, and added a big
scoop of margarine to the mix. When the mixture was hot enough, she added the
contents of the pack and started to cut some belief and coriander. When the
pasta was done, she poured it into a big bowl, and topped it off with the green
leafs. It was enough to serve two very big servings, or three small ones - but
Hermione had not had anything for lunch, so she was not feeling guilty about
eating so much.
She took her favourite book from the shelf, and made her way to the back porch.
She planned to read the book to its finish, and then order the muggle law books.
Hermione knew a muggle shop owner in London, and though it'd be late night when
she would get around to order the books, she was confident that the man would be
there. She turned the light on, and opened the door slowly - careful not to trip
herself on the frame. When she turned around, she found Harry swinging on the
porch swing.
She would have had gotten mad at him, but she didn't when the lost look that she
had seen him with only one other time registered in her mind. It had been when
Alicia had died. It was not as severe as it had been with her, but it was big
nonetheless. "Harry?"
The look vanished. "Hello."
"What're you still doing here?" She asked.
"You said to be out of the house... I'm out of the house." He said, grinning.
Hermione rolled her eyes. As she approached him, Harry moved from the center of
swing to the very edge, and brought the swing to a stop. Hermione sat down on
the very edge of the other side to Harry, and when she had, Harry started to
swing again. Slowly.
"What're you reading?" He asked.
"Tale of Two Cities..."
"It was the best of times... It was the worst of times?" Harry said in a
question.
"Yes." Hermione looked up at Harry in surprise. She had not thought that Harry
read muggle books. Let alone something as deep as the book that in her hand.
"Have you read it?"
"Nope." Harry said, grinning. " I just know those two lines."
Hermione wanted to roll her eyes, but she could not help but smile just a
little.
"You haven't answered my question yet, Harry." She said in very serious tone.
"Why're you still here?"
"Mostly swinging on a chair. You?"
Hermione let out a sigh. "Reading and trying to have my dinner and lunch at the
same time."
"What did you make?"
"You wouldn't like it." Hermione said. She did not know of anyone that did not
like macaroni and cheese, but she did not want to share hers. She had made it
and she could hear her stomach growling in a low voice. It was Harry, and she
did not want to share.
"Smells like Macaroni and Cheese." Harry said, making a slurping noise. "Do you
have another spoon?"
Hermione held the bowl closer to herself in a protective manner. "I'm not
sharing." Harry frowned, but he went back to just staring at the fence. Hermione
felt sorry. She did have enough to give him a little, but she didn't want to.
But she felt guilty. "One spoon." She said.
Harry grinned in response to that. Hermione took the least amount she could
using the spoon and held it up to Harry. "If you're going to be that much of
scrooge, then why offer any?"
Hermione blushed, and then took a decent amount and held it up to Harry. "Mmm...
good."
"Okay. That's all you get. I need the rest."
Harry made a face. "But I'll drown if I just have one spoon..." He said sighting
the local legend of the boys that had only one spoon of food, and then drowned.
"All the more reason to..." Hermione said, teasing him.
"Please..."
"No..."
"But, I'll drown..."
"You won the swimming event in the TriWizard championship." Hermione took a very
large spoon full of the pasta, and shoved it in her mouth, making every effort
to make Harry hungrier for more.
"But that was years ago. I haven't swam in years..."
"Harry Potter! You're a liar." Hermione said. "But I'll give you one more..."
"Thanks." Said Harry, after Hermione held up the spoon for him.
"No more. If you ask for more, there'll be a price a to pay!" Hermione pointed
at her wand that was sitting in between them.
~o0o~
Hermione didn't even notice the time fly, after she had given Harry his second
helping of her pasta. When she finished the book, she found Harry with a
calculating look in his eyes. "What're you thinking?" She said out loud without
meaning to. "No! I don't want to know." She started to get up quickly, and go
into the house, when Harry grabbed her hand. He didn't really grab her as much
as gently hold her. She wanted to go inside the house, but like a moth to a
fire, she was drawn back to Harry.
"Draco's dying." Harry said, looking particularly sad.
This did not make sense to her. Draco had been a business partner of Harry's.
Harry was a well-to-do businessman, then, and then Draco came around to his
house with a business offer that Harry could not refuse. While Harry worked on
the joint project, Draco worked on Ginny. It took surprisingly little time for
Draco to ensnare Ginny. It was surprising for Harry; not to anyone else that
knew her. Harry loved Ginny. It was a love that Hermione did not know how to
define. Harry put Ginny on such high pedestal that Hermione did not believe it
was physically possible for any other woman to take that place. She suspected
that the real Ginny might not go there, either. She expected Harry to be happy
that Draco was dying. Though only a few years older than them, Draco had tried
to achieve immortality a few times with experimental charms and dark magic;
neither of which were unknown to the magical world, but it was certainly
ignored, as he had enough money to bribe away the problems, and it was not
surprising that he was dying.
"Why aren't you happy?"
Harry let go of her hand. "Happy? Why should I be happy?"
"You'll have your precious Ginny back." Hermione said with an unusually large
amount of venom in her voice. "We both know that you love her."
"I do." Harry admitted. "But I wouldn't want Draco dead." It made little sense
to Hermione.
"Am I missing something, or are we not talking about the same man that slept
with your wife for a half year behind your back and then took her away from
you?"
"No, you're not wrong." He said quietly. "But he was a friend. Still is."
"You're friends with him?!" It was as much a question, as a surprised
exclamation. "Still?"
Harry nodded, and Hermione's jaw just dropped in response.
"How can you be friends with him...?"
"Because I was friends with him long before Ginny came along." Harry's voice
conveyed something that Hermione could not quantify. "If it hadn't been for him,
then I wouldn't have had survived my first year in Hogwarts. Don't get me
wrong... he hated me as much as Voldemort did. He hated what I stood for. He
hated that he couldn't boss me around. But he also stopped the whole house from
attacking me, because he told everyone that he wanted to do it himself. He just
never got around to doing it. It's complicated."
"I'll say. What goes on inside the head of you Slytherins is a wonder in
itself."
"He's not as bad he appears to be." Harry said to Hermione.
"Oh! No! Don't tell me that. He beat up Muggleborns for touching his cloak.
He..."
"They shouldn't have touched his cloak." Harry said, like it was the most normal
thing in the world to do.
"What about accidentally?"
"Every plan has its flaws."
"I can't believe you're defending HIM to me!"
"He's ruthless and would kill anyone that was in his way to getting what he
wanted. He wanted Ginny and he bought her with money. I couldn't have had
offered her as much as he had."
Hermione looked disgusted. She'd had enough. Harry justifying Draco was sick.
Justifying Ginny's actions were even more sick. Harry was making her sick.
"Why're you telling me all this?"
"Ginny's coming to town in a weeks time; that's why Oliver was here. He brought
the letter from Ginny and Malfoy. They're both coming."
Hermione had other reasons for hating Ginny aside from the fact that she had
used Harry. Harry was somewhat of a friend. But the reason she hated her was
because she muddied the name of the Weasley family. They had always been nice to
her. Ronald was nice once you got to know him. The twins were decent enough
people and their mother was very nice. She had never met their father, but he
was held in high respect by a lot of people. She hated Ginny because she
destroyed all the hard work that Alicia done on Harry to make him tolerable. She
had taken advantage of Harry's weakness after Alicia had died and used it to
build him up into something that was more of a handful and harder to tolerate
than he ever had been. Hermione loved Alicia like a sister and she had hated to
see the way Ginny had ruined the memory of Alicia.
"Again," Hermione's voice hid little of the hatred she had for Ginny. "Why're
you telling me this?"
"Erm... I need your help."
Hermione was stunned - no shocked. That was more of an appropriate word. Harry
had made a drama about asking her to tie his tie the day before, yet he came
right out and asked for her help with something. She could only think that it
had something to do with Ginny. She could feel her earlier headache return. Then
the pain started fading with the realization that he needed her help. It seemed
the more she thought of the idea that Harry was desperate for her help, the less
the pain in her head was. It was like some kind of wonder drug. The corner of
her mouth curved up a little.
She looked up at Harry found him to have had lost all his smugness, and he was
really looking vulnerable. Like the time long ago she had seen him ask out
Alicia. Hermione made up her mind; no matter what, she wanted to see his face
when she refused to help him. "With what?" she asked politely.
Harry took his seat. "Erm... you see, Ginny is coming to town."
"Uh-huh. You told me."
"She's coming with Draco."
"You told me that, too!"
" She wants to stay at my house in Little Whining."
"And you said yes?" Hermione asked, knowing full well that Harry could never say
no to Ginny.
She wondered if Ginny had somehow brainwashed him. Anyone else would have had
said no to Ginny. A woman who left a man because his large amounts of money was
not large enough would be hated by the person that was left behind. Not Harry.
If anything, Hermione thought that Harry's love had grown - the only reason
Hermione put up with what Harry did sometimes was that she pitied him; it had
nothing to do with the fact that she had a little crush on him. Nothing at all.
"So what do you need my help with?" Hermione got ready to say no.
"I need a wife." Harry's words hit her like a rampaging elephant.
"A what?" She was not sure she had heard it right, and if she had, then she was
sure that he would not have had asked her what she thought he had.
"A wife." Harry said it like it was most natural request to make to girl. "A
woman joined to a man in marriage; a female spouse."
"I know what that means!" Hermione said, annoyed.
"Then why did you ask me?"
"Grr... Harry." Hermione growled softly.
"Okay. Enough jokes. I need a wife for the time that Ginny's at the house."
Hermione opened her mouth to say something, but then closed it. She did it a few
time, but her mind had stopped working properly.
"You really shouldn't..." Harry started, but Hermione finished it. "If you say
one word about fish, you'll get not help from me, Harry Potter."
Harry grinned, "So you're helping, then. Good. We'll need..."
"I haven't said that."
"But you just..." Hermione gave him a strong look, and he quietened down.
Hermione wanted to say no. She wanted to say it out loud. Very loud. She did not
want to be Mrs. Harry Potter, but it was a brilliant solution to her problem as
well and not to mention the fact that she would be holding a power over Harry
that she had never had. It had too many upsides for her.
"Why do you need a wife?"
"I'll need someone to pretend to be my wife and then keep me from falling for
her, again."
"What?" She pretended to be disgusted. "No! Never. I'm not doing anything like
that. What'll people say? I mean, as far as they know, I'm just a girl that's
trying to take advantage of you after your wife left you. I don't want to be in
a scandal, thank you very much." After Hermione said it, she realized that those
were valid things that she had spouted off the top of her head and had not
considered, herself. The look of surprise at those things that she had not
considered in her "perfect" plan made her feel very uncomfortable.
"Don't forget Oliver." Harry reminded.
"Yeah, that too." She did not feel like telling him that Oliver and her were not
a couple anymore. To her knowledge, Harry knew that she and he were a couple.
"I'm not becoming your wife. Period."
"Is that your last word on this?"
Hermione tapped her right index finger on her lips and said, "Yes."
Harry got up and started to leave. Hermione's heart jumped. She did not want for
Harry to leave. She wanted him to beg; that's it. He had to. He had put her
through a lot over the years, simply because he was a "friend" of hers. She
wanted to make him pay a little; just a little. This was her chance to grab it.
Hermione stood up and walked Harry to the door - if he was not going to beg,
then she was not going to help him. Harry had to do something that would
convince her to help him. Actually, she just wanted him to beg. He had to beg.
He just had to.
Just standing outside the door, Harry said, "You know, a lot of girls would be
jumping to play Mrs. Harry Potter."
"I'm not most girls." Hermione pointed out. "Besides, what's happened to the
airhead you were dating a few days ago?"
"Ginny's never going to believe that I married her. Plus I need someone to help
me not make the same mistakes again. I don't need someone to play house with.
Ginny will break that in a second."
Hermione closed the door. "Sorry." She said. She slumped against the door hoping
like hell that Harry would ask her again. Her pride was one of the things that
Harry had not taken away from her, yet, and she did not want to loose that.
Harry banged the door. "Ask for anything... it's yours." Harry shouted.
Hermione let Harry bang the door twice more, and when she started to hear his
footsteps moving backwards, she stood up, and opened the door. "Anything?" she
asked from the porch. Harry turned back quickly. He looked happy - like he was
with Alicia. Almost the same type of happy; not the one that he showed most of
the time.
"Anything." Harry walked quickly to her.
Hermione walked backwards and said, "Wait! You're not coming any closer till we
get the details sorted."
"Anything." Harry repeated.
"Well in that case, for now, you just stand over here..." Hermione pointed at
the far end of the porch and took a seat on the swing. "I'll sit here, and we'll
get this sorted."
"Anything." Harry was grinning cheekily. She did not like it. She liked it, but
she did not like the way it made him look...like he was up to something. It made
her wonder if she was making the right decision. "What do you want?" He asked.
"Beg." She was clear. "You'll have to apologize for tormenting me all these
years. For every single thing you did." Hermione smiled smugly now. "You'll have
to remember everything you did and apologize for them." She wanted to say it
again. If he backed out now, it would still have been worth it to know that she
had yielded this kind of power over Harry.
Harry let out a sigh of relief. "That's all? I can do it in my sleep."
" Ah ah ah... Nope. This is not one of your hollow apologies that you give to
your bimbo of the day; this is a full-blown, heartfelt apology." Harry looked
concerned at that, but said that he'd do it.
Hermione knew Harry well and knew that Harry would drag it out as long as he
could. He did not like tackling his problems head on. He liked to put them off,
and see if there was a way to wiggle out of them at the last moment. He paced
back and forth. That's where she and he were different. Though she was still
surprised how drunk she had gotten in the face of mounting problems. She was
never like that. She never drank too much. Moderation was her life. Why she had
done what she had, was a mystery to her. Hermione started to observe Harry. He
was rolling up his sweater's sleeve up past the elbow, and then unrolling it and
doing the same with his other arm.
"Okay... here I go." Rolling up the sleeve.
"Uh-huh." Hermione said, as Harry started to pace.
"Okay." He stopped and opened his mouth. Then he closed it. "Okay." He said,
staring to pace again; this time he was fiddling with the sides of sweater. He
stopped and with the most resolute face that Hermione had seen him with, he
started to say, "I sincerely and humbly request that you...
For...for...for...get me..."
Hermione stood up. Just looking at him was frustrating. "I'll be inside, Harry,
and if you don't get this done in the next two minutes, the deal's off."
The words did not come out of Harry mouth. "Wait... wait..." Harry said,
blocking the path to the inside of the house. "I'll get it right." Harry said,
smiling uncertainly. Hermione had the overwhelming urge to let Harry off the
hook. But she stuck to her guns. "Go on." She said, sitting back down.
"I've not been sorry for anything I've done in my life." Harry said, "I know
exactly what I did and why I did it. I'm not sorry for doing them. I will never
be sorry for doing them. I did what needed to be done and I don't have to
explain to anyone why they needed to be done."
This was not an apology. Hermione could see that Harry was rather proud of the
way he had hurt her and people around him and he was not willing to admit it to
himself that he was wrong. It hurt her to know how little Harry thought of her.
It hurt a great deal. She wanted to cry. She did not know why Harry invoked such
a strong feeling in her, but she wanted to do it.
"...When I had to kill to save the magical community, they wanted to put me to
death for saving them. I use magic to help people; so what if I had to use a few
people and hurt their feelings for the greater good?"
Listening to Harry speak was almost maddening. The need to cry turned into a
burning need to slap him.
"...However, I am sorry that one of the people that I had to use was you."
The need to hurt Harry disappeared. This was as close to an apology that Harry
was going to come and she did not know if she really wanted more from him.
Looking at him - she was surprised to see that Harry looked as serious as she
had ever seen him.
"Good?" He asked.
Hermione nodded. "Yes and no. That's just my first demand; there'll be more,
you'll know later."
"But then you can keep asking for the rest of my life..."
"It's either that or nothing, Harry."
Harry grumbled. "Okay."
"Good." Hermione said.
"We'll have to get married," Harry said, "I know a clerk in London." Hermione
thought that was good. That way people in the town would not know that she and
him were married.
"No! I'm not getting really married to you." Hermione protested, as Harry would
expect her to. She knew that he had to explain to her why they needed to do it,
or else he would expect that she had a plan of her own.
"We have to." Harry said, "I've known Ginny a long time, and she's going to want
to see the Marriage Certificate."
Hermione pretended to be disgusted at the thought of violating the most sacred
of vows to get what she wanted. She was partially, but she would do anything to
save the memories of her mother. "Okay... but we're getting it annulled as soon
as she leaves."
"That's fine."
"I'm not moving in with you."
Harry did not like this. "You have to. How's it going to look to Ginny if you
apparate out of the house at night? Plus, the entire idea is that you'll be
keeping me safe from Ginny."
"Okay... but we're not staying in the same house in Tilford. I'll be living here
after we get annulled, and I prefer people not know of this."
"As do I."
"Good."
"Good."
There was a silence that neither liked, but knew not what to do about.
"Good night." Hermione said finally, putting Harry out of his misery.
Harry gave a small nod, before starting to walk.
Hermione could not shake the feeling that all things were happening too fast,
and she had not thought through the consequences of her actions yet.
Hermione's Relationships:
This is for all those that are confused about which order these happened in.
From the beginning:
1) Crush on Harry sometime in her 3rd year
2) Assorted boys in Hogwarts.
3) Oliver (moving on from Harry)
4) Oliver and her breakup after he left school. Long distance relationship
was not working when she was in her 7th year.
5) Harry and Hermione in the greenhouse - making out.
6) Oliver and Hermione get back together.
7) Oliver cheats on Hermione.
8) Now...
BTW - I've never had a hangover, but I did have one brush with alcohol when I
was 8 years old. I've just exaggerated that. If you can point out something
terribly wrong in the description - please leave it in the review. I don't
actually have anyone to confirm what it feels like.
The Pasta and Macaroni: What's the difference between these two?
mistakes in the chapter when I originally posted it. I should have had someone
take a look at the file before I posted it. Sorry about that. It's been checked
by friend now.
Thanks to Chris for doing it :)
- Nappa
For Money and Property?
Hermione's morning after her night of binge drinking was far more than a
nightmare. It was horrid, and it was all too real.
It all started when the sunlight came streaming through the windows, and
caressed her delicate skin. As the sunlight warmed up her soft, supple features,
Hermione was getting annoyed at the light, rather than feeling the normal
sensation of near-bliss that she usually associated with it. The light was too
hot, she concluded.
Her eyes fluttered open and when the bright and vibrant colours finally stopped
wiggling inside her half-opened eyes, she felt even worse. The world that she
knew was too loud. The birds outside were making a lot of noise - far too much
for her to remember which species they were. Hermione could normally recite them
off the top of her head by what melodious sound they made. She normally loved to
wake up to them. "Blasted headache," Hermione murmured to herself, but then
moaned out again, as her murmur had been too loud, as well. Little did she know
that her torment was just beginning.
Harry had used magic to restrain her to the sofa, but she did not know that.
Therefore, when Hermione did try to roll off the couch in an attempt to crawl to
the kitchen, and get some water to quench her thirst, she managed to roll the
entire couch on top of her. It was rather fortunate that the heavy couch did not
pin her down totally, as the backrest had hit the top of the tea table and made
a tent that had her pinned in between. When she finally realized what had
happened, she could not help but think of herself in a high regard. She thought
to cast a restraining charm on herself even in the drunken stupor. The reasons
for her stupor did not pose a question in her mind - the priority was to
retrieve the wand that was jabbing at her side. Hermione wanted to remove the
spell, but it took a bit of effort to twist herself into a less restrictive
position to reach for the wand, and when she had, she tried to cast the spell -
unsuccessfully. It was really odd, since the wizard or witch that had cast a
spell could easily dispel their work for minor curses, and it was a minor curse.
Strong witches and wizards could do the same for other wizards and witches too.
Hermione did not panic when she had not been able to do it. It was not unheard
of for a person under the influence of drugs or mind control spells not being
able to remove a spell. She did stop to consider if someone else had cast the
spell, but she dismissed it. Harry was the only one that could come into the
house uninvited - one of many exceptions to the magical laws that he seemed to
be exempt from. Harry was not careless about her; that much she knew. And since
he was the only one that could break into the house past her self-made security
wards without alerting the Ministry Aurors, she didn't think anyone else could
have come into the house, either. As such, it had to be her who had cast the
spell. It just had to be. She wasted no more time thinking about silly security
wards - she was thirsty.
By the time Hermione did manage to undo the spell she had almost lost the cloud
that hung inside her mind. Things were a lot clearer now, though the headache
and hypersensitivity were altogether different things. Sliding out from under
the sofa through the small triangular gap, she was tempted for a second to tip
the sofa back, when she got up, but resisted. It would make an awful lot of
noise, and she was not ready for that yet. She hobbled out to the kitchen.
Hermione was too thirsty to think about anything else and the thirst grew as
distance between her and the fridge grew smaller. She yanked at the door, and
the whole fridge made a noise of protest. She reached into the fridge to where
she could remember she had placed the bottle of cold water, last - only to
retrieve an empty bottle. It took her longer than it had ever taken her to
process the fact that she had an empty bottle in her hand. Hermione was not the
typical girl to chill an empty bottle. It could not have been anyone else
either, since Muggles would have been sent home thinking that they had reached
the wrong house - had they tried to break into the house. It had to have been
Harry that had done it, she decided, closing the door to the fridge, but not
before placing the empty bottle inside.
Frustrated that she had no chilled water, she forgot about being a witch, and
how she was able to conjure water at will; she reached to the sink, instead, and
turned the water jet on at full blast. When she tried to then drink from her
clasped hand, a mishap happened. Water as cool as the fridge water would have
been hit her hand full force and splashed all over her front. The chilling water
was a wakeup call that was like the proverbial sledgehammer to a glass window.
The headache was still there - bigger than ever - but reality was very clear. It
was no longer a set of fuzzy images. They had their sharpness now, and Hermione
began to long for the haziness. She was beginning to remember why she had gotten
drunk the night before. Hermione turned the water jet down a bit and then
splashed herself with more water - a last ditch attempt to hopefully wake up
from this nightmare. When that didn't work, she grumpily started to make her way
to the hot water jug. 'Maybe the tea will wake me out of this...' Hermione
thought, adding first two tea bags, and then changing her mind to add two more.
With the hot cup of tea in her hand, she made her way back into the living room.
She had a date with her sofa - she planned to put it upright, and then sleep the
rest of the day, hoping that maybe avoiding the problem would make it go away.
However the whole morning was about to take a very unpleasant turn. She walked
into the living room to find that Oliver Wood, her ex-boyfriend, was sitting on
the sofa across the corner. She took a sip of her tea without blowing on it, on
the assumption that if it didn't hurt, she was in a nightmare; which she wanted
to part from, and if it did, she was in reality, and that hurt she would be
feeling would take away some of the other that Oliver had caused a few days ago.
It hurt.
It burned actually.
Oliver looked good as always. Hit outfit -- a blue shirt and black jeans --
suited him. He looked taller than he really was, and it gave his personality a
depth that she had never felt from him. He looked handsome and attractive; she
hated him for it. "You know, 'Mione..." Oliver started; whatever Hermione had
felt for him evaporated.
Hermione barked out, "Don't call me that!"
He, in response, started to smile at her, and then started to goggle at her like
she was the latest model of broomstick. She would have checked to see what was
making Oliver behave like that - he had certainly never looked at her like he
looked at broomsticks; nor had she ever seen him look like that at her or anyone
in the time she had known him. She didn't check because that would have meant
admitting that she wanted him ever to look at her like that; it would have been
too much of a victory to give to Oliver.
She wondered how he had entered the house; it put her belief that Harry was the
only one to break into the house into question. Oliver was certainly not the
best wizard that she knew; not even in the same grade as the most capable ones,
needing her help all throughout his school life to just barely graze through.
This puzzle would have intrigued her more, normally, but this was not a normal
time in her life. She was amidst a personal and financial crisis and she wanted
nothing to do with Oliver, now. She wanted nothing to do with men; they would
just add to her confusion and clutter her mind. It frustrated her, instead, that
he was there. Her love of puzzles did not survive when men behaved like idiots
in front of her. The look she wanted from him all the time they were together,
she now thought was the sign of his stupidity. Hermione had had enough of him
looking like that. Her left hand went to her hip and as she leaned forward
slightly, she said, " What," the annoyance plain her voice, "are you looking
at?" She had had enough, and letting him win a little did not concern her. She
wanted him out of her house and preferably out of her life.
"Almost nothing." He said - whispering almost to himself.
Hermione scrunched her nose and eyebrows in confusion. " What?" She shook her
head as she said it.
Oliver sat up and Hermione could have had sworn that she saw his smile turn
smug. She wondered if it had been wise to let him win a little. When he was
standing right in front of her, he said, very clearly and in the huskiest voice
he could manage, "I've never seen this much skin on you in all the times we've
been together."
Hermione looked slowly down. It was almost as if when Oliver had said, she had
realized that her front was soaking wet and left nothing to the imagination. It
boggled her mind that somehow she had felt the coolness when she had tried to
drink water, but after that - she felt nothing. Hermione made a small yelp and
let go of her glass of hot tea. It would have had scolded Oliver's skin and
hers, had he not caught it in midair.
Hermione, on the other hand, went for the blanket that was strewn nearby under
the sofa. She grabbed it and wrapped herself in it. After covering herself with
it twice around her body, she put the sofa between her and Oliver. She only then
spoke to him, when she felt like she was not standing in front of him - naked.
When she did, she yelled. "Get out!" She did not care for an explanation as to
how he had entered the house or why she did not feel the wet clothes sticking to
her. She did not care to know why he was there. She just wanted him out.
"Geez, Hermione!" He said to her, looking like he had been insulted. "I save you
from the hot tea and this is the treatment I get?" His words were like Déjà vu
to Hermione. Harry had said the same things to her the day before. The
similarities between the events were uncanny. Harry had saved her from hot
chocolate - he from tea. Harry had come for her to tie the tie. Oliver she did
not know why - but she could care less. It was then that she noticed for the
first time how similar Harry and Oliver were. They both fit the tall, dark and
handsome category to the tee. Harry was the darker of the two and Oliver was the
nicer of the two to her. Though after the way Oliver had surprised her a few
days ago, she wasn't sure if that was true. Oliver may have been the less
womanizing one, but to her knowledge, Harry had not cheated on girls that he
went out with. It would have been on the news, otherwise.
"Out!" Hermione yelled again. Her hand inside the blanket made a tent pointing
at the door, making Oliver just look on even more smugly. Hermione cursed
herself that she had let Oliver "win". Oliver was not a graceful winner, and she
knew a price was yet to be paid for showing her annoyance.
She didn't have to wait long. "And suppose I don't..." He put the tea down on
the table and spread his feet on the ground a bit, kind of like he was getting
ready to be tackled to the ground by Hermione. 'Like he' a human paperweight.'
Hermione, under normal circumstances, would have shown a smile at that amusing
thought, but she did not. She was just too irritated. "...What'll you do?"
Oliver said, waving his arm like he was trying to get Hermione into even more of
a worked up state. "'Specially since you'll have to take the blanket off to fire
curses at me, Miss Granger."
Hermione had not thought what she would have had done. Things were just too
confusing at that moment. Not only was Oliver making a pest of himself, but she
was also still very upset about the possibility of losing her only memories of
her mother to Harry. She was sure that being the kind of man Harry was, he'd
tear down her house and build some kind of community project - just a way to get
some more women to flock to him. She would have done anything for an
interruption, then... almost anything. But when the interruption did come to her
aid, she was not sure if she wanted it.
"I want to know that, too." Said a bemused voice. Hermione looked to the door,
and saw that Harry was leaning against the frame with his hands folded across
his chest. He looked rather dashing, too - more so at that time - Hermione
realized that Harry was looking more appealing than he had ever appeared before,
as if to make her life more miserable.
" You!" She sputtered out, " - Out, too."
She looked to Oliver and was going to tell him to leave, but he was looking at
Harry, and Harry was looking at Oliver. And neither seemed to be interested in
what she had to say. They were giving each other a sort of look that she could
not totally comprehend. It seemed to her it was a strange mixture of admiration,
palpable hatred, and jealousy. Then it struck her - they were evaluating each
other. Seeing how they rank next to each other. Just to prove her right, Harry
and Oliver both drew in a breath and it inflated their chests. 'They're trying
to intimidate each other,' Hermione thought. 'It's like that article about the
apes!' She thought incredulously. It had been an article on how males of a
specific species of apes inflated their chest and beat on them to intimidate
each other for the right to choose a mate. Hermione normally would have had
disapproved of this kind of behaviour, but she wanted to encourage it now. Not
because it made her feel like two men were fighting over her; no, that was not
it all... - she wanted one of them to take the other out, so she only had one to
deal with. It would have been even better, if they knocked each other out,
leaving her with two unconscious bodies to deal with.
When nothing happened, Hermione tried to guess who was winning. It seemed to her
that Oliver was winning, but she was proven wrong when Oliver let go of his
breath. Hermione was disappointed. She wanted to see Harry lose. She needed to
see Harry lose.
Harry looked triumphant, but unlike what she had expected, Harry did not go on
and on and on about it. He said to Oliver, instead, "Those Ruby Rabbits sure had
a good go at your team last weekend."
Oliver joined into the chat like nothing had happened. Then again, Hermione was
not certain if anything did happen. "They did; McNelly was in top form..."
Oliver started to say.
"AGH!" Hermione screamed. "Quidditch! STOP IT!" Both men looked at her like she
was mad. It irked her. She could feel pressure building on the side of her head,
and in a vein on her forehead. "Oliver! What're you doing here, and how the hell
did you get in?"
Oliver got ready to open his mouth, when Harry started to say that he would like
to know, too, but Hermione had not finished talking yet. "And YOU!"
Harry made an innocent face, as if he did not know why Hermione should be upset
with him. "Why're you back again? I thought after yesterday..." Harry looked
genuinely shocked, but he recovered quickly, "...you weren't supposed to show!"
"Well..." Harry started, but she stopped him loudly again.
"No! He's first!" Hermione said, pointing to Oliver.
Oliver and Harry looked to each other. Harry resisted the temptation to laugh at
himself being treated like a child. But he didn't. For now he was more
interested in Oliver's explanation.
"Erm..." Oliver started, slowly.
"Go on, I don't have the entire day." Hermione's voice broke halfway through it.
Her voice box had been through more exercise than she had ever given it. Stress
was truly getting to her.
"I'm actually here to see Mister Pot..." He started to be very formal to Harry,
but then changed his mind. "...I mean, Harry. I was passing by so I thought I'd
look in on you."
Hermione's mouth fell open. She was dealing with Oliver because he wanted to
"look in" on her. Her eye started to twitch. Had he not been the one to break to
her heart? Why was he still making her life so utterly terrible? Why did men
just want to make her life so complicated? Harry did not wait for Hermione's
permission to speak. "I saw him sneaking around the house trying to get in, so I
thought I'd see what he was up to. But then..."
Hermione ignored Harry and asked Oliver, "How did you get in?" She started
rubbing her temples.
Oliver took out a set of brass keys from his cloak pocket, and why he had them
came flooding back to her mind. She had made him a set because she wanted to
take their relationship to a level beyond what they were in, then. She held pent
up anger and frustration and managed to say, "So you came here to see Harry?"
Oliver nodded and Hermione snatched the keys from him. Oliver quickly set about
looking at the scratch that Hermione had made when she roughly grabbed the keys
from his hand.
"And you came to see Oliver?"
When Harry nodded, Hermione gathered up more of the loose blanket around
herself, and started to walk up the stairs.
"Where're you going?" Asked Oliver, confused.
"Since neither of you actually came to talk to me, I'm going to go and have a
sleep." She said, "And when I get back, I would appreciate it if both of you
gentleman were not here." Neither of the boys said anything. After waddling up
the stairs she stopped midway and turned to say, "Harry?"
"Yeah?" Harry did not expect Hermione to address him, again. He wondered what
she wanted. "Can you please put the sofa back when you go?"
Harry didn't reply to that, nor did Hermione expect him to. She just wanted him
to not do it so that she could gripe about it and hate Harry for it. She really
needed to hate Harry, and him coming over to check up on her and making sure
that she was safe was making it hard for her to hate the man that could
unknowingly take away all that was valuable to her.
" So why did you need to see me, Oliver?" Harry asked Oliver when Hermione was
out of earshot. Oliver in response took out a pink envelope and handed it to
him. Harry could smell the vanilla and peach combination that was unique to only
one woman Harry knew - Ginny.
~o0o~
Hermione went right into her room and considered what to do when she was at the
door to the bathroom. She could either soak in the marble tub in a bubble bath,
or have a warm, refreshing shower. Discarding the clothes fast, she decided that
she needed to have a shower - not soak in her own filth. The warm water was
cathartic, washing away more than just dirt and soap scum from her body. It took
away a lot of the tension. As she dried herself, she wondered what it was that
made men be total pigs to her. 'First, it had been...' she started to think, but
then she decided that she needed to have some rest. There would be time later
when she could gripe about men, she decided, as she drew the covers over
herself.
It didn't take long before the sleep consumed her; it felt to her as though only
mere seconds had passed, when she awoke. A quick splash on the face with some
water had her refreshed, and ready for a busy night. She had a lot to clean up.
She had to order to some books about the muggle law system and see what she
could do about her situation. As much as she wanted to leave everything to the
lawyer/doctor/postman/etc.... she didn't have a choice. She would not feel right
if she just left it all upon him. It would hound her if she lost all of it
because she was just lazy to do some work herself.
When she came downstairs, she found the room tidy. She checked to see if the
kitchen was tidy, as well. It was. All the water on the floor was gone. The
kitchen-top was clean. The fridge had the empty bottle, though. Hermione wasn't
stupid enough to think that Harry had put the sofa in its right place; nor was
she stupid enough to think that Harry would have cleaned the kitchen for her.
Even if it would have been just a wave of the wand for him to get the result she
wanted. She thanked Oliver that he had been as kind as he had been.
She looked through the pantry and found a packet of pasta. Hermione went into
one of the cupboards and found one of the pots. She filled it with two glasses
of water, put it on the stove, and brought it to a boil. She then accurately
measured a half cup of milk - when she got a bit too much, she put most of the
milk back, and then started again. She took a big spoon out, and added a big
scoop of margarine to the mix. When the mixture was hot enough, she added the
contents of the pack and started to cut some belief and coriander. When the
pasta was done, she poured it into a big bowl, and topped it off with the green
leafs. It was enough to serve two very big servings, or three small ones - but
Hermione had not had anything for lunch, so she was not feeling guilty about
eating so much.
She took her favourite book from the shelf, and made her way to the back porch.
She planned to read the book to its finish, and then order the muggle law books.
Hermione knew a muggle shop owner in London, and though it'd be late night when
she would get around to order the books, she was confident that the man would be
there. She turned the light on, and opened the door slowly - careful not to trip
herself on the frame. When she turned around, she found Harry swinging on the
porch swing.
She would have had gotten mad at him, but she didn't when the lost look that she
had seen him with only one other time registered in her mind. It had been when
Alicia had died. It was not as severe as it had been with her, but it was big
nonetheless. "Harry?"
The look vanished. "Hello."
"What're you still doing here?" She asked.
"You said to be out of the house... I'm out of the house." He said, grinning.
Hermione rolled her eyes. As she approached him, Harry moved from the center of
swing to the very edge, and brought the swing to a stop. Hermione sat down on
the very edge of the other side to Harry, and when she had, Harry started to
swing again. Slowly.
"What're you reading?" He asked.
"Tale of Two Cities..."
"It was the best of times... It was the worst of times?" Harry said in a
question.
"Yes." Hermione looked up at Harry in surprise. She had not thought that Harry
read muggle books. Let alone something as deep as the book that in her hand.
"Have you read it?"
"Nope." Harry said, grinning. " I just know those two lines."
Hermione wanted to roll her eyes, but she could not help but smile just a
little.
"You haven't answered my question yet, Harry." She said in very serious tone.
"Why're you still here?"
"Mostly swinging on a chair. You?"
Hermione let out a sigh. "Reading and trying to have my dinner and lunch at the
same time."
"What did you make?"
"You wouldn't like it." Hermione said. She did not know of anyone that did not
like macaroni and cheese, but she did not want to share hers. She had made it
and she could hear her stomach growling in a low voice. It was Harry, and she
did not want to share.
"Smells like Macaroni and Cheese." Harry said, making a slurping noise. "Do you
have another spoon?"
Hermione held the bowl closer to herself in a protective manner. "I'm not
sharing." Harry frowned, but he went back to just staring at the fence. Hermione
felt sorry. She did have enough to give him a little, but she didn't want to.
But she felt guilty. "One spoon." She said.
Harry grinned in response to that. Hermione took the least amount she could
using the spoon and held it up to Harry. "If you're going to be that much of
scrooge, then why offer any?"
Hermione blushed, and then took a decent amount and held it up to Harry. "Mmm...
good."
"Okay. That's all you get. I need the rest."
Harry made a face. "But I'll drown if I just have one spoon..." He said sighting
the local legend of the boys that had only one spoon of food, and then drowned.
"All the more reason to..." Hermione said, teasing him.
"Please..."
"No..."
"But, I'll drown..."
"You won the swimming event in the TriWizard championship." Hermione took a very
large spoon full of the pasta, and shoved it in her mouth, making every effort
to make Harry hungrier for more.
"But that was years ago. I haven't swam in years..."
"Harry Potter! You're a liar." Hermione said. "But I'll give you one more..."
"Thanks." Said Harry, after Hermione held up the spoon for him.
"No more. If you ask for more, there'll be a price a to pay!" Hermione pointed
at her wand that was sitting in between them.
~o0o~
Hermione didn't even notice the time fly, after she had given Harry his second
helping of her pasta. When she finished the book, she found Harry with a
calculating look in his eyes. "What're you thinking?" She said out loud without
meaning to. "No! I don't want to know." She started to get up quickly, and go
into the house, when Harry grabbed her hand. He didn't really grab her as much
as gently hold her. She wanted to go inside the house, but like a moth to a
fire, she was drawn back to Harry.
"Draco's dying." Harry said, looking particularly sad.
This did not make sense to her. Draco had been a business partner of Harry's.
Harry was a well-to-do businessman, then, and then Draco came around to his
house with a business offer that Harry could not refuse. While Harry worked on
the joint project, Draco worked on Ginny. It took surprisingly little time for
Draco to ensnare Ginny. It was surprising for Harry; not to anyone else that
knew her. Harry loved Ginny. It was a love that Hermione did not know how to
define. Harry put Ginny on such high pedestal that Hermione did not believe it
was physically possible for any other woman to take that place. She suspected
that the real Ginny might not go there, either. She expected Harry to be happy
that Draco was dying. Though only a few years older than them, Draco had tried
to achieve immortality a few times with experimental charms and dark magic;
neither of which were unknown to the magical world, but it was certainly
ignored, as he had enough money to bribe away the problems, and it was not
surprising that he was dying.
"Why aren't you happy?"
Harry let go of her hand. "Happy? Why should I be happy?"
"You'll have your precious Ginny back." Hermione said with an unusually large
amount of venom in her voice. "We both know that you love her."
"I do." Harry admitted. "But I wouldn't want Draco dead." It made little sense
to Hermione.
"Am I missing something, or are we not talking about the same man that slept
with your wife for a half year behind your back and then took her away from
you?"
"No, you're not wrong." He said quietly. "But he was a friend. Still is."
"You're friends with him?!" It was as much a question, as a surprised
exclamation. "Still?"
Harry nodded, and Hermione's jaw just dropped in response.
"How can you be friends with him...?"
"Because I was friends with him long before Ginny came along." Harry's voice
conveyed something that Hermione could not quantify. "If it hadn't been for him,
then I wouldn't have had survived my first year in Hogwarts. Don't get me
wrong... he hated me as much as Voldemort did. He hated what I stood for. He
hated that he couldn't boss me around. But he also stopped the whole house from
attacking me, because he told everyone that he wanted to do it himself. He just
never got around to doing it. It's complicated."
"I'll say. What goes on inside the head of you Slytherins is a wonder in
itself."
"He's not as bad he appears to be." Harry said to Hermione.
"Oh! No! Don't tell me that. He beat up Muggleborns for touching his cloak.
He..."
"They shouldn't have touched his cloak." Harry said, like it was the most normal
thing in the world to do.
"What about accidentally?"
"Every plan has its flaws."
"I can't believe you're defending HIM to me!"
"He's ruthless and would kill anyone that was in his way to getting what he
wanted. He wanted Ginny and he bought her with money. I couldn't have had
offered her as much as he had."
Hermione looked disgusted. She'd had enough. Harry justifying Draco was sick.
Justifying Ginny's actions were even more sick. Harry was making her sick.
"Why're you telling me all this?"
"Ginny's coming to town in a weeks time; that's why Oliver was here. He brought
the letter from Ginny and Malfoy. They're both coming."
Hermione had other reasons for hating Ginny aside from the fact that she had
used Harry. Harry was somewhat of a friend. But the reason she hated her was
because she muddied the name of the Weasley family. They had always been nice to
her. Ronald was nice once you got to know him. The twins were decent enough
people and their mother was very nice. She had never met their father, but he
was held in high respect by a lot of people. She hated Ginny because she
destroyed all the hard work that Alicia done on Harry to make him tolerable. She
had taken advantage of Harry's weakness after Alicia had died and used it to
build him up into something that was more of a handful and harder to tolerate
than he ever had been. Hermione loved Alicia like a sister and she had hated to
see the way Ginny had ruined the memory of Alicia.
"Again," Hermione's voice hid little of the hatred she had for Ginny. "Why're
you telling me this?"
"Erm... I need your help."
Hermione was stunned - no shocked. That was more of an appropriate word. Harry
had made a drama about asking her to tie his tie the day before, yet he came
right out and asked for her help with something. She could only think that it
had something to do with Ginny. She could feel her earlier headache return. Then
the pain started fading with the realization that he needed her help. It seemed
the more she thought of the idea that Harry was desperate for her help, the less
the pain in her head was. It was like some kind of wonder drug. The corner of
her mouth curved up a little.
She looked up at Harry found him to have had lost all his smugness, and he was
really looking vulnerable. Like the time long ago she had seen him ask out
Alicia. Hermione made up her mind; no matter what, she wanted to see his face
when she refused to help him. "With what?" she asked politely.
Harry took his seat. "Erm... you see, Ginny is coming to town."
"Uh-huh. You told me."
"She's coming with Draco."
"You told me that, too!"
" She wants to stay at my house in Little Whining."
"And you said yes?" Hermione asked, knowing full well that Harry could never say
no to Ginny.
She wondered if Ginny had somehow brainwashed him. Anyone else would have had
said no to Ginny. A woman who left a man because his large amounts of money was
not large enough would be hated by the person that was left behind. Not Harry.
If anything, Hermione thought that Harry's love had grown - the only reason
Hermione put up with what Harry did sometimes was that she pitied him; it had
nothing to do with the fact that she had a little crush on him. Nothing at all.
"So what do you need my help with?" Hermione got ready to say no.
"I need a wife." Harry's words hit her like a rampaging elephant.
"A what?" She was not sure she had heard it right, and if she had, then she was
sure that he would not have had asked her what she thought he had.
"A wife." Harry said it like it was most natural request to make to girl. "A
woman joined to a man in marriage; a female spouse."
"I know what that means!" Hermione said, annoyed.
"Then why did you ask me?"
"Grr... Harry." Hermione growled softly.
"Okay. Enough jokes. I need a wife for the time that Ginny's at the house."
Hermione opened her mouth to say something, but then closed it. She did it a few
time, but her mind had stopped working properly.
"You really shouldn't..." Harry started, but Hermione finished it. "If you say
one word about fish, you'll get not help from me, Harry Potter."
Harry grinned, "So you're helping, then. Good. We'll need..."
"I haven't said that."
"But you just..." Hermione gave him a strong look, and he quietened down.
Hermione wanted to say no. She wanted to say it out loud. Very loud. She did not
want to be Mrs. Harry Potter, but it was a brilliant solution to her problem as
well and not to mention the fact that she would be holding a power over Harry
that she had never had. It had too many upsides for her.
"Why do you need a wife?"
"I'll need someone to pretend to be my wife and then keep me from falling for
her, again."
"What?" She pretended to be disgusted. "No! Never. I'm not doing anything like
that. What'll people say? I mean, as far as they know, I'm just a girl that's
trying to take advantage of you after your wife left you. I don't want to be in
a scandal, thank you very much." After Hermione said it, she realized that those
were valid things that she had spouted off the top of her head and had not
considered, herself. The look of surprise at those things that she had not
considered in her "perfect" plan made her feel very uncomfortable.
"Don't forget Oliver." Harry reminded.
"Yeah, that too." She did not feel like telling him that Oliver and her were not
a couple anymore. To her knowledge, Harry knew that she and he were a couple.
"I'm not becoming your wife. Period."
"Is that your last word on this?"
Hermione tapped her right index finger on her lips and said, "Yes."
Harry got up and started to leave. Hermione's heart jumped. She did not want for
Harry to leave. She wanted him to beg; that's it. He had to. He had put her
through a lot over the years, simply because he was a "friend" of hers. She
wanted to make him pay a little; just a little. This was her chance to grab it.
Hermione stood up and walked Harry to the door - if he was not going to beg,
then she was not going to help him. Harry had to do something that would
convince her to help him. Actually, she just wanted him to beg. He had to beg.
He just had to.
Just standing outside the door, Harry said, "You know, a lot of girls would be
jumping to play Mrs. Harry Potter."
"I'm not most girls." Hermione pointed out. "Besides, what's happened to the
airhead you were dating a few days ago?"
"Ginny's never going to believe that I married her. Plus I need someone to help
me not make the same mistakes again. I don't need someone to play house with.
Ginny will break that in a second."
Hermione closed the door. "Sorry." She said. She slumped against the door hoping
like hell that Harry would ask her again. Her pride was one of the things that
Harry had not taken away from her, yet, and she did not want to loose that.
Harry banged the door. "Ask for anything... it's yours." Harry shouted.
Hermione let Harry bang the door twice more, and when she started to hear his
footsteps moving backwards, she stood up, and opened the door. "Anything?" she
asked from the porch. Harry turned back quickly. He looked happy - like he was
with Alicia. Almost the same type of happy; not the one that he showed most of
the time.
"Anything." Harry walked quickly to her.
Hermione walked backwards and said, "Wait! You're not coming any closer till we
get the details sorted."
"Anything." Harry repeated.
"Well in that case, for now, you just stand over here..." Hermione pointed at
the far end of the porch and took a seat on the swing. "I'll sit here, and we'll
get this sorted."
"Anything." Harry was grinning cheekily. She did not like it. She liked it, but
she did not like the way it made him look...like he was up to something. It made
her wonder if she was making the right decision. "What do you want?" He asked.
"Beg." She was clear. "You'll have to apologize for tormenting me all these
years. For every single thing you did." Hermione smiled smugly now. "You'll have
to remember everything you did and apologize for them." She wanted to say it
again. If he backed out now, it would still have been worth it to know that she
had yielded this kind of power over Harry.
Harry let out a sigh of relief. "That's all? I can do it in my sleep."
" Ah ah ah... Nope. This is not one of your hollow apologies that you give to
your bimbo of the day; this is a full-blown, heartfelt apology." Harry looked
concerned at that, but said that he'd do it.
Hermione knew Harry well and knew that Harry would drag it out as long as he
could. He did not like tackling his problems head on. He liked to put them off,
and see if there was a way to wiggle out of them at the last moment. He paced
back and forth. That's where she and he were different. Though she was still
surprised how drunk she had gotten in the face of mounting problems. She was
never like that. She never drank too much. Moderation was her life. Why she had
done what she had, was a mystery to her. Hermione started to observe Harry. He
was rolling up his sweater's sleeve up past the elbow, and then unrolling it and
doing the same with his other arm.
"Okay... here I go." Rolling up the sleeve.
"Uh-huh." Hermione said, as Harry started to pace.
"Okay." He stopped and opened his mouth. Then he closed it. "Okay." He said,
staring to pace again; this time he was fiddling with the sides of sweater. He
stopped and with the most resolute face that Hermione had seen him with, he
started to say, "I sincerely and humbly request that you...
For...for...for...get me..."
Hermione stood up. Just looking at him was frustrating. "I'll be inside, Harry,
and if you don't get this done in the next two minutes, the deal's off."
The words did not come out of Harry mouth. "Wait... wait..." Harry said,
blocking the path to the inside of the house. "I'll get it right." Harry said,
smiling uncertainly. Hermione had the overwhelming urge to let Harry off the
hook. But she stuck to her guns. "Go on." She said, sitting back down.
"I've not been sorry for anything I've done in my life." Harry said, "I know
exactly what I did and why I did it. I'm not sorry for doing them. I will never
be sorry for doing them. I did what needed to be done and I don't have to
explain to anyone why they needed to be done."
This was not an apology. Hermione could see that Harry was rather proud of the
way he had hurt her and people around him and he was not willing to admit it to
himself that he was wrong. It hurt her to know how little Harry thought of her.
It hurt a great deal. She wanted to cry. She did not know why Harry invoked such
a strong feeling in her, but she wanted to do it.
"...When I had to kill to save the magical community, they wanted to put me to
death for saving them. I use magic to help people; so what if I had to use a few
people and hurt their feelings for the greater good?"
Listening to Harry speak was almost maddening. The need to cry turned into a
burning need to slap him.
"...However, I am sorry that one of the people that I had to use was you."
The need to hurt Harry disappeared. This was as close to an apology that Harry
was going to come and she did not know if she really wanted more from him.
Looking at him - she was surprised to see that Harry looked as serious as she
had ever seen him.
"Good?" He asked.
Hermione nodded. "Yes and no. That's just my first demand; there'll be more,
you'll know later."
"But then you can keep asking for the rest of my life..."
"It's either that or nothing, Harry."
Harry grumbled. "Okay."
"Good." Hermione said.
"We'll have to get married," Harry said, "I know a clerk in London." Hermione
thought that was good. That way people in the town would not know that she and
him were married.
"No! I'm not getting really married to you." Hermione protested, as Harry would
expect her to. She knew that he had to explain to her why they needed to do it,
or else he would expect that she had a plan of her own.
"We have to." Harry said, "I've known Ginny a long time, and she's going to want
to see the Marriage Certificate."
Hermione pretended to be disgusted at the thought of violating the most sacred
of vows to get what she wanted. She was partially, but she would do anything to
save the memories of her mother. "Okay... but we're getting it annulled as soon
as she leaves."
"That's fine."
"I'm not moving in with you."
Harry did not like this. "You have to. How's it going to look to Ginny if you
apparate out of the house at night? Plus, the entire idea is that you'll be
keeping me safe from Ginny."
"Okay... but we're not staying in the same house in Tilford. I'll be living here
after we get annulled, and I prefer people not know of this."
"As do I."
"Good."
"Good."
There was a silence that neither liked, but knew not what to do about.
"Good night." Hermione said finally, putting Harry out of his misery.
Harry gave a small nod, before starting to walk.
Hermione could not shake the feeling that all things were happening too fast,
and she had not thought through the consequences of her actions yet.
Hermione's Relationships:
This is for all those that are confused about which order these happened in.
From the beginning:
1) Crush on Harry sometime in her 3rd year
2) Assorted boys in Hogwarts.
3) Oliver (moving on from Harry)
4) Oliver and her breakup after he left school. Long distance relationship
was not working when she was in her 7th year.
5) Harry and Hermione in the greenhouse - making out.
6) Oliver and Hermione get back together.
7) Oliver cheats on Hermione.
8) Now...
BTW - I've never had a hangover, but I did have one brush with alcohol when I
was 8 years old. I've just exaggerated that. If you can point out something
terribly wrong in the description - please leave it in the review. I don't
actually have anyone to confirm what it feels like.
The Pasta and Macaroni: What's the difference between these two?