Author: widgeon
Email: parsleynsage@hotmail.com
Summary: The Trio is slowly growing up, though not necessarily together. For one it means becoming a man in his own right, stepping out from the shadows. Another must search for their true identity, finding a purpose. And for one, it means chasing seemingly unattainable dreams. This is their story.
Disclaimer: This story is based on characters and situations created and owned by JK Rowling, various publishers including but not limited to Bloomsbury Books, Scholastic Books and Raincoast Books, and Warner Bros., Inc. No money is being made and no copyright or trademark infringement is intended.
Author's Note: This is supposed to be the replacement for Hermione Granger and the Gawain Loophole, and I hope more will come to enjoy this. The story line is mostly set, though I would love to get ideas from reviews that could make the plot better. You are my inspiration and my strength.
liner notes: these first few chapters (the first 3) are meant to be an introduction and sort of prologue to the rest of the storyline. Eventually the three story lines will naturally be interwoven as the characters interact and develop.
chapter one
of dreams and ending things
This was the first day of the rest of her life. Tomorrow she wouldn't wake up in the same bed, in the same room with the girls she had known for the last seven years. She wouldn't be eating breakfast in a dinning hall with the other students, she would no longer be a student, she would be an alumni.
What was she afraid of? The end, or the beginning?
Once again, Hermione changed her robes, tried to run a brush through her hair, and stood in front of the mirror inspecting her image. All of the other seventh year girls in her house had already made their way down to the last dress rehearsal. Lavender had tried to coax Hermione out of bed that morning with the promise of a hot shower and the best breakfast Hogwarts had ever given. Instead of joining her friends and classmates for their final breakfast on campus, she had turned over in her bed and settled for a freezing bath and a hard bagel she had packed away in her trunk.
"I'm cutting you off!" shouted the mirror.
"Excuse me?" Hermione asked, wanting to know if the rust robe would go better with her gray shoes or black.
"You've never been this interested in your appearance," moaned the mirror, "The last five outfits you've tried on have been fine, and this is the last one I'm going to let you look at!"
"Today's graduation! I want to look nice when I give my speech, Colin's pictures can be very unflattering at times," she said, deciding that the black shoes would do.
"For most girls, the Yule Ball was more of an occasion than their graduation. Besides, who's going to be looking at you besides your parents and the same people you've known for the last seven years?"
"Well," Hermione began, trying to invent an excuse that would stall the mirror from clouding her image, "Harry's graduating, and there's bound to be loads of press here; and who knows, I just might be in some of those pictures."
"The only pictures you'll be part of will be those taken by Master Creevy, and then, it will only be a foot or an arm. No matter the spin you put on the situation, everyone will be more concerned about Harry Potter than anyone else," the mirror spat before it became fogged.
Unable to stare at herself any longer, Hermione began frantically searching for her Head Girl pin. She hadn't been all that surprised when she had received the letter from Dumbledore stating that she had been chosen. It was one of the inevitable things in her life; no matter how she tried to strain against the course she was taking, things never changed. She believed she was stuck on the path she was on, with no chance to stray; and she was growing more accustomed to that idea every day.
Hermione found her badge hidden underneath a mound of notes she had used to prepared for her N.E.W.T.S. with. The papers spilled onto the floor and somehow a picture fell out as well. As she bent to pick it up, Hermione was almost certain she knew what it was of.
Just as she had thought, the picture had been taken over Christmas break when Harry had come to visit her in London. The snow covered the ground in a thick blankets and a high snowdrift threatened to block the entrance to the house behind them. Both had ruddy cheeks and hair plastered to their heads from a massive snow ball fight, the remnants of which still hung to their jackets and scarves. Hermione was smiling brightly into the camera, failing to notice that Harry was staring at her from under his heavy lashes.
"That was a good day," Hermione thought, attempting to keep good thoughts in her head, "And I'm bound to have better days soon."
Hermione nodded in agreement with herself and pinned the badge to her robe. She placed her notes bound twine into her satchel and placed a quill along with it so as to make any corrections during the boring assembly she was being forced to attend. Hermione looked at her watch and let out a soft shriek when she saw how much time she had wasted trying on outfits. She ran her hands through her hair once more, grabbed the makeup that Parvati had left out for her, and made a dash for the door.
Ron couldn't help staring at his shoes. They were extremely shiny from the dozens of times he had polished them the previous night. He was willing to admit that he wanted to look his best for his family, among others, but that wasn't why he had spent so much time preparing his footwear.
The common room was packed, Ravenclaws and Hufflepuffs milling about with the Gryffindors in their own tower. Ron had found a comfortable place on his favorite green chair from which to observe the proceedings. He watched as people broke into tears and exchanged addresses, wondering why these 'good' friends hadn't done so before. He found himself snickering as Padma and Parvati Patil exchanged make-up with some of the more plain face Ravenclaws. Only hours before they'd been talking of how none of the Ravenclaw girls knew how to take care of their appearance. There were so many students that had never spoken to one another before this night and would never again converse again afterwards.
Ron knew that he shouldn't be bored, everyone else around him looked to be having the times of his or her life. He should have followed Harry over to the Ravenclaw Tower, even if all he would have done was watch as his friend tried to make up for lost time with the opposite sex. The idea of going to fine Hermione in the library and helping her prepare for her speech seemed like an appeasing idea. A few of the students he knew from Quidditch said hello and quickly disappeared after he filled the conversation with nothing but an awkward silence.
"I don't know any of these people," he thought, "I've spent seven years being led on great adventures by Harry Potter and have fought Voldemort himself, yet I am the most uninteresting person in this room by far."
Lavender surprised him by sitting on his lap. He blushed fiercely and she watched on in amusement as his color faded back to its normal shade. She straightened the collar of his robes and traced her fingers down the opening to where it tied at his waist.
She placed her hands back in her lap, and smiled when Ron didn't know what to do with his own, "You were looking lonely, so I decided to come cheer you up."
"And you seem to have taken a few lessons from the Patil sisters," Ron said, stunned by his own audacity.
"What nerve!"
Ron drew back and did his best to shield himself, "I didn't mean that."
Lavender grinned rather stupidly, "Of course you did."
"Is there something wrong with you?" he couldn't help but ask, there was something strange about the situation.
Lavender furrowed her pretty brow, "What's wrong with having a few drinks on the night before I graduate?"
"Nothing, except for the fact that you're acting like a idiot."
She stood up, leaving his lap feeling empty, "The only fool here is you, Ron Weasley."
He shrugged his shoulders, "I hope you don't remember any of this in the morning."
"All she'll remember is what she ate for dinner," Dean said as he walked past them.
Lavender's face grew red, "He irks me."
"He irks you?" Ron said in a mocking tone, "You've certainly had too much to drink when you start using words like that."
He hadn't seen her for the rest of the night. When he went to the seventh year girls' dorm he was assured by Hermione that she would eventually come back and not to worry about her. Ron knew that he shouldn't worry, but he did anyways. He stayed up in the common room long after everyone else had gone to bed under the pretense of wanting to shine his shoes, which is exactly what he did for two hours while he was waiting for Lavender to show up. Despite the dark circles under his eyes and the chronic yawning he seemed to have developed, Ron had gotten some sleep on the cough, but not much.
"Vanity is a sin, Weasley," hissed a voice.
Ron didn't have to look up to know that it was Draco Malfoy, and that he was mostly likely flanked by his goons, Crabbe and Goyle, "And so is being a bastard, Malfoy. But no one's called you on that yet, now have they?"
Draco sneered, "I knew you would eventually become a pretty boy. Too bad there isn't much to admire."
"You don't have much of a claim to fame either, Your Pasty Highness. Has anyone ever told you that black really isn't you color, Malfoy?"
Crabbe and Goyle both snickered at this. They were both hit in the stomach by one of Draco's elbows and then hit on the head as he turned to leave. Ron watched in delight as he disappeared into the crowd milling about in the Great Hall waiting for the assembly to start.
"It's not over already, is it?" Hermione managed between deep breaths.
"There you are. You ran all the way for the Tower, didn't you?"
She nodded slowly, "And yet I still miss the assembly. What did Dumbledore say?"
"I believe he's getting ready to ask everyone to sit down so that we can begin," Ron said trying not to make too much fun of his best friend.
"Where's Harry?" Ginny asked as she sat down next to Hermione.
"He's been missing since the assembly this morning, though I think I saw a speck of dark hair running around," said her brother before he began to stuff his mouth with the mounds of creamed potatoes he had heaped onto the plate.
"Now I think I know what caused the potato famine," Seamus said as he stole the last muffin out of the basket.
"I don't know what you're talking about," Ron said around his huge mouthfuls.
"Have you seen Harry?" Ginny asked Hermione, ignoring her brother's revolting eating habits.
"What's today again?"
"Tuesday, I think," Ginny answered.
"Then, he's trying to seduce some innocent, or perhaps not so innocent, Ravenclaw girl; he'll have snogged with her quite a few times before he shows up to lunch," Hermione said in a matter-of-fact voice.
Ginny turned her attention back to her plate.
"I could have sworn that he devoted Tuesdays to trying to weed out a decent girl from Slytherin," commented Ron as he reached over Seamus to get the pitcher of pumpkin juice.
Hermione shook her head, a few curls escaped the clasp at the nape of her neck in the process spilling onto her face, "He gave up on Slytherin girls, and now spends two days a week chasing after Gryffindors to make up for it."
"And here he comes."
Harry slid into the narrow space that separated Hermione and Ginny. He gave the younger girl a chance to move down and remained sitting flush with Hermione's shoulder against his own. She wiggled for more room, but could to nothing to escape her arm bumping into his.
Ron wiggled his eyebrows, "I think both of our schedules are off today, Herm."
"What?" she asked still trying to move away from Harry.
"I think today is a Gryffindor day," Seamus finished.
Ron turned to the Scottish boy to his right and his little sister across the table, "So, I'm not the only one that's noticed?"
"Noticed what?" Harry asked innocently making a grab for one of the muffins Hermione had hoarded onto her plate.
The three onlookers nodded, and finished they all finished the meal in animated conversation about the upcoming graduation.
Hogwarts had never seen such a turn out for the graduation of their seventh year students. For the first time in over a century the processional had to be held on the Quidditch field rather than the Great Hall. Amazingly, the Quidditch stands were filled to capacity, something that even failed to happen when the school cup came up for grabs and the parents poured in to cheer for their old houses.
Ron slapped at the hands of his mother, who was fussing with his robes, "Mum, that's enough! You've already brushed me down twice and removed all the possible lint that could be on my robes. I thank you for that, but will you please stop! I'm old enough to take care of myself now."
"You could have fooled me," Mrs. Weasley said in flat tone as her arms dropped to her side, "Where's Harry? I wanted to see him before he graduates."
"Like I would know where that boy is," Ron said with a shrug, "Most likely making out with some sixth-year for good measure."
Mrs. Weasley's brow knit together in worry as she heard her son's words, "Surely he can't be, I think you're fibbing to give your poor mother a few more gray hairs!"
"Even though I would love to do something to catch up with the number that Fred and George have given you, I don't think its possible to-"
Ron rubbed his arm where his mother had struck him with her purse, which had to be full of bricks, "What was that for?"
Mrs. Weasley glared at her youngest son and asked him to continue.
"He's been with so many girls this year; I wouldn't be surprised if he's trying to get another to fall in love with him right before graduation," Ron said as he continued to rub his arm.
"I thought he was still dating that Chang girl, that chaser for Puddlemere."
Ron laughed, "Cho Chang and Harry? Poor Mum, you must not listen to me when I tell you about school. The broke up ages ago, something about long distance relationships, but Harry never looked sad about it, he may even have been happy that it ended."
Mrs. Weasley grinned, "Your own father was a heartbreaker back when we went to Hogwarts."
"Dad! As in my father, as in Arthur Weasley?" Ron stammered, making yet another futile attempt at shooing his mother's hands away from his person.
"Mmhmm," said Mrs. Weasley dropping her hands to her sides. She looked as if she was remembering a better time.
Ron took this as his cue to leave, and did so quickly before his mother could realize soon enough to chase after him.
Hermione took her place among the other seventh year Gryffindor students. Ron was half asleep in the seat to her left, obviously having spent a long night saying goodbye, and the place next to her right was being reserved with her numerous notes for her graduation speech. She had practiced all night, but still was unsure of herself; her voice would surely stumble over the words and reveal her discomfort and unease.
She nudged Ron with her elbow to stop him from snoring, "Wake up you idiot. The music is starting."
Indeed it had; Ron awoke to the blaring of trumpets and an unseen organ. Hermione pulled him to his feet and directed him towards the stage, carrying her mound of speech notes in her arms. She had said all the good luck charms and idiot-proofing spells that she knew that morning. She closed her eyes and began the silent mantra of 'It's just a speech, It's just a speech', but it wasn't. To Hermione walking up the steps to greet Dumbledore's welcoming smile with her own, could never be just a graduation. And the speech she gave that day would be more than a summary of what her experience at Hogwarts had been like, or so she hope.
As Head Girl, Hermione was responsible for the behavior of the prefects in her own house. She was now silently cursing herself for ever having suggested that Ron Weasley would make an excellent prefect. He was now standing and snoring at the same time, and somehow managed to make his way up the narrow set of steps to the platform where the seventh year prefects of every house, and Head Boy and Head Girl were to sit with their respective heads of house.
She sat lightly on the edge of the stiff back wooden folding chair, knowing from the multiple dress rehearsals and lectures from the Headmaster that her speech was coming up. Hermione turned her full attention on the regal looking Dumbledore in his dark robes slashed with all the colors of the four houses.
"Parents, students, alumni, and my fellow professors," Dumbledore began in his familiar booming voice, taking all of those present in the stadium into account, "I would like to welcome you to the graduation of the class of 1998."
Cheers erupted in the stadium, a louder and more jubilant noise than had filled the stadium in ages. Hermione felt herself blushing, wondering if some of the cheering might be meant for her. She was halfway out of her chair when Dumbledore started speaking once more.
"I'm sorry to say but there has been a change in the program for this afternoon's processional. My own speech will be cut short to make room for another more eloquent speaker than myself," Dumbledore said, cut short by the audible groans of not only the students who remained in their seats but from the audience as well.
"As I was saying," he said in an even stronger tone, "Mr. Harry Potter will be speaking in my place."
Once more cheers filled the stadium. Chants such as 'I love you, Harry Potter!' could be heard erupting from the stadium as the clapping began to waver.
Harry appeared out of no where and was suddenly standing behind the podium turning down Dumbledore's offer of an introduction.
He didn't seem to have any prepared speech, which didn't surprise Hermione one bit. Harry looked smug, and every bit the suave heartbreaker he had become. His deep emerald robes set off his hair and complemented his complexion and his hair—not that Hermione was taking note of any of this, much less looking at him.
"We've all spent seven years here together, and yet I don't know much about any of you. Cliques and house loyalty kept us apart even when it was vital that we stay united as students of Hogwarts. But who trespassed against whom and what wrongs were committed will no loner matter when we cross this stage and walk out those gates. We will never be united again under one banner, even during those reunions we all promise to attend to but eventually turn down. All I can ask of you, the strangers in the class of 1998, is to use the lessons you have learned here and to be conscious of all the decisions you make. I wish all of you the best of luck, honestly I do, and hope that you surpass your expectations and let go of your stuffy inhibitions every once in a while."
Hermione clapped half-heartedly, outshone by Ron who was now on his feet cheering for his best friend. There was such a finality to Harry's speech, a locking of doors that had never been opened. She smiled and offered fake enthusiasm as Harry came back to take his seat next to Dumbledore.
She exchanged glances with Ron and the other prefects from her House, before she went up to deliver her own speech. Her first few words were shaky and quiet, reverberating around the Quidditch field. But they soon grew into perfectly turned syllables and those of passion and personal experience. When she returned to her seat some ten minutes later she realized that for once, she had known exactly what she was talking about. And the cheering and clapping coming from the people who had listened made her think that they somehow knew, too.
Author's Note
sorry that was so long, but surprisingly this is shorter than my first attempt (if you can believe that)…I'm pretty sure where this story is going but would love suggestions. I'm thinking of making this eventually having a subtle H/HR ship undertone, which will be easy considering I can do it from three points of view. do you think that's a good idea?
stay tuned for: chapter two, which will be about what happens after graduation and how the Trio plans to stay together when they're so obviously moving in different directions
review, review, review! if you don't mind… annie