A/N: This chapter is in Mr. Granger's point of view, although not in his
person. This is also one of the last chapters - that's right, the story is
about to end and I've had such a great time writing this. But don't worry,
this isn't the last chappie yet. Some shout-outs before I begin again...
Godspeed: Thank you for your reviews. They warm my heart. Just so you know, I'm *seriously* considering your suggestion of making Harry cry. You'll just have to wait and see.
mystical: I'm so glad you liked that last line. I thought it might sound a bit corny because the chapter title's the same, but it's so symbolic, isn't it? :)
Adam Johnson: I'm trying to make this fic have a movie-slash-soap opera feel to it. Thank you for feeling frustrated - I was expecting it. It means that you're really into my story and I appreciate that.
And onward we go...
DISCLAIMER: J.K. Rowling owns the Harry Potter characters.
CHAPTER 12:
Mr. Granger knocked lightly on his daughter's door, waiting for a sign that will allow him to come in. She had come home early that morning; he had heard her move from her room to the bathroom and back again and there was a sadness to her movements. A sadness that he just couldn't place.
At first he thought that it was the pain of losing David to another man. That alone was enough to make any woman go crazy. She refused to eat anything at breakfast and luncheon, but her mum persuaded her to sip some soup in the late afternoon.
He was worried for his daughter. She seemed so vulnerable and helpless in this state, staying in her bed, refusing to eat or talk to anyone. He was oh-so-very tempted to strangle David for what he did to his daughter - the bastard. Leading Hermione on like that! Intending to marry her but to continue having an affair with his gay lover! Hermione deserved so much more than him.
She hasn't even cried either. Her eyes were dry but framed with dark circles, as if she had actually cried all evening. Her back faced the door and she was clutching her sheets tight around her body, as if she was protecting herself from something. It scared him that Hermione seemed to be in so much pain, but wasn't letting it out. It seemed as if she was allowing herself to be consumed away inwardly by her suffering.
He pressed his ear to the door and heard nothing, just the vague evenness of her breathing. Taking at as a good sign, he opened her door slightly and peeked in. He found her on her back, still surrounded by the sheets, but she was staring blankly at the ceiling - her face looked almost cryptic.
/At least she's on her back now,/ he thought, putting a small smile on his lips. "How are you feeling, sweetheart?" he asked softly, making a move to sit on the edge of her bed. She looked so vacant, staring into nothingness that he felt his anger boil in the pit of his stomach. He wanted to hurt David so badly for taking away his daughter - his bright and beautiful Hermione - and replaced her with this shell who neither spoke nor cried.
He sat just beside her, brushing away strands of her chestnut brown hair that had fallen across her face. "Don't worry, you'll get over David. He doesn't even deserve someone like you. And you deserve someone better than that." Mr. Granger smiled down at her. Hermione turned her head slightly to the other side, facing away from her father and looking at the wall.
Hermione's walls have always been adorned with frames and photographs. She loved photographs, even moreso when she found out that pictures taken in the wizarding world can move around as they please. There were frames everywhere - certificates of academic excellence, medals, her recently- erected college diploma, pictures of her receiving her diploma from the dean of academics, photographs of her, Harry and Ron at the Burrow in past summers, their first picture together, taken at Hogwarts when they were all young and smiling and happy...
Mr. Granger saw her eyes pause at that particular photograph. And that's when he knew who it was that truly hurt her like this - Harry.
She closed her eyes and bit her lower lip shakily as past memories haunted her mind. Memories that she knew now were all lies. *This* was exactly where they had left off four years ago, only she wasn't running away anymore. But Harry was doing the exact same thing he had done before, he was with another woman. Never mind that this time around he knew what Hermione felt for him (courtesy of her last letter to him, of course), he'd never acted on it. And even if he did love her, what she saw this morning at the flat proved that, clearly, he was over her. Before she even knew he had begun.
And the sad thing was - her heart still ached for him. Reason told her that she should forget Harry. He had already told her that he thought she was a slut and got back at her even more when he had sex with Blaise in his room. Yet, she refused to listen to her mind. Her heart was aching for him, to be touched by him, to be told that he still loved her even if he didn't...
She can't even cry for him anymore. Over the last several years, she has cried for him for too many times, all to no avail. She was still in this rut, she was still alone.
"Am I that undesirable, Dad?" Hermione began in a shaky whisper. Mr. Granger lifted his hand to smooth his daughter's cheek. "Am I really so unattractive that the man I was supposed to marry is only marrying me to preserve people's regard for him and the only man I've ever loved..." she paused, opened her eyes and settled them on Harry's image. "...can never love me back?"
"Oh, sweetheart," Mr. Granger said, his voice thick with emotion. "Of course you're not unattractive. You're very, very beautiful and smart and funny and witty - any guy would be lucky to end up with you."
"If I really am then I shouldn't be alone now, should I?," she countered, drawing her eyes away from Harry. "Perhaps I'm just one of those people who are just not meant to be loved in that way, you know. Maybe I'm destined to end up alone, doomed to spend the rest of my life watching all my friends get married and live wonderfully happy, fulfilling lives."
"Don't say that, honey. You deserve to be loved and cherished and adored for all your life..."
"I deserve to be, but I might as well be pre-ordained to live life alone. I've only had two relationships in the whole of my twenty-one years on this earth - two! And David was the only one who asked me to marry him - for any reason - while the other didn't really even count as a relationship." She sighed so deeply that Mr. Granger could swear she was trying to release all breath from within her. "Maybe I should just marry David anyway. I mean, if I'm going to live my life alone, I might as well have a marriage certificate to show for it. It'll almost be like the same thing."
"Hermione," Mr. Granger's voice was sharp and shaky. "You stop saying that. Your mum and I love you. I love you very much, sweetie. You don't need to be alone."
"Oh, Dad, you don't understand," she said, turning her head to face him. "I am alone. No matter how much you tell me that I'll never be alone because I have you and Mum, it's not the same. You and Mum will always have each other to love, to cherish, to adore...I want some of that, too. I want someone who'll give me chocolates and roses on Valentine's Day. I want someone who'll take me out to a romantic, candlelit dinner during our anniversary. I want someone who'll plan out the perfect marriage proposal and go crazy when things don't go as planned. I want moonlight and dancing and horse-drawn carriages. I want to be ravaged by passion and heat and love and ecstasy and joy. I want someone who'll look at me lovingly with those beautiful green eyes and tell me that everything's going to be okay, because he'll make it right..." Hermione faced away from him again, stopping herself before she said any more.
Mr. Granger winced at his daughter's confession. She wanted Harry, that much was obvious. But he'd obviously done something that made her believe that he didn't want to be with her. And he wanted to know what he had done to make her act this way, but was too afraid to press Hermione.
"I was stupid enough to think that Harry could actually love me anyway," she murmured, her eyes back on his image on the wall. "I mean, *me*? Why would he want someone like me?" Her smile was painful to see and Mr. Granger wished that she would just frown and cry, rather than pretend to be consoling herself.
"Why wouldn't he?" he asked her, squeezing her hand. "You're the most perfect creature on this planet and he's got to be daft not to notice you."
"Oh, no, Harry's far from being daft. His tastes just don't go in the way of bookwormish, frizzy-haired, dull-eyed girls like me."
"You should've seen this other girl, Dad," she added, facing him again, the painful smile still on her face as she told the story. "She was so beautiful and slender and her hair was so...straight and her face was perfect. Harry likes those kinds of girls, I mean, it's only natural that he end up with someone like her. Harry's perfect, he doesn't need someone like me cramping his style, does he?"
Mr. Granger said nothing and Hermione went on. "And she was making him yell very loudly, I'm not ashamed to admit it. She knows exactly what to do and how to make him happy - what could I bring into a relationship? If we were together..." She stopped, clearly contemplating the idea of herself and Harry. "If we were together, I'd just be a burden to him. I mean, Harry's so experienced in these things. I wouldn't be able to satisfy him in the way he deserves to be satisfied.
So, it's better this way," she finished.
"Hermione..."
She smiled that painful smile again and patted her father's hand so softly, he hardly felt it. "It *is* better this way, Dad. I was just stupid to believe that, after all this time, Harry could ever fall in love with someone like me."
"How could you say that?" Mr. Granger said softly. "You are not stupid, why wouldn't someone like Harry want you? If you ask me, he's the one who's stupid enough to let you slip away. You are the most amazing, most wonderful, most beautiful woman in the world, Hermione. And if he can't see that, then, he doesn't deserve you."
"Perhaps," she whispered, as a single tear coursed down her cheek. The first sign of her pain. "I was never meant to deserve *him*."
Godspeed: Thank you for your reviews. They warm my heart. Just so you know, I'm *seriously* considering your suggestion of making Harry cry. You'll just have to wait and see.
mystical: I'm so glad you liked that last line. I thought it might sound a bit corny because the chapter title's the same, but it's so symbolic, isn't it? :)
Adam Johnson: I'm trying to make this fic have a movie-slash-soap opera feel to it. Thank you for feeling frustrated - I was expecting it. It means that you're really into my story and I appreciate that.
And onward we go...
DISCLAIMER: J.K. Rowling owns the Harry Potter characters.
CHAPTER 12:
Mr. Granger knocked lightly on his daughter's door, waiting for a sign that will allow him to come in. She had come home early that morning; he had heard her move from her room to the bathroom and back again and there was a sadness to her movements. A sadness that he just couldn't place.
At first he thought that it was the pain of losing David to another man. That alone was enough to make any woman go crazy. She refused to eat anything at breakfast and luncheon, but her mum persuaded her to sip some soup in the late afternoon.
He was worried for his daughter. She seemed so vulnerable and helpless in this state, staying in her bed, refusing to eat or talk to anyone. He was oh-so-very tempted to strangle David for what he did to his daughter - the bastard. Leading Hermione on like that! Intending to marry her but to continue having an affair with his gay lover! Hermione deserved so much more than him.
She hasn't even cried either. Her eyes were dry but framed with dark circles, as if she had actually cried all evening. Her back faced the door and she was clutching her sheets tight around her body, as if she was protecting herself from something. It scared him that Hermione seemed to be in so much pain, but wasn't letting it out. It seemed as if she was allowing herself to be consumed away inwardly by her suffering.
He pressed his ear to the door and heard nothing, just the vague evenness of her breathing. Taking at as a good sign, he opened her door slightly and peeked in. He found her on her back, still surrounded by the sheets, but she was staring blankly at the ceiling - her face looked almost cryptic.
/At least she's on her back now,/ he thought, putting a small smile on his lips. "How are you feeling, sweetheart?" he asked softly, making a move to sit on the edge of her bed. She looked so vacant, staring into nothingness that he felt his anger boil in the pit of his stomach. He wanted to hurt David so badly for taking away his daughter - his bright and beautiful Hermione - and replaced her with this shell who neither spoke nor cried.
He sat just beside her, brushing away strands of her chestnut brown hair that had fallen across her face. "Don't worry, you'll get over David. He doesn't even deserve someone like you. And you deserve someone better than that." Mr. Granger smiled down at her. Hermione turned her head slightly to the other side, facing away from her father and looking at the wall.
Hermione's walls have always been adorned with frames and photographs. She loved photographs, even moreso when she found out that pictures taken in the wizarding world can move around as they please. There were frames everywhere - certificates of academic excellence, medals, her recently- erected college diploma, pictures of her receiving her diploma from the dean of academics, photographs of her, Harry and Ron at the Burrow in past summers, their first picture together, taken at Hogwarts when they were all young and smiling and happy...
Mr. Granger saw her eyes pause at that particular photograph. And that's when he knew who it was that truly hurt her like this - Harry.
She closed her eyes and bit her lower lip shakily as past memories haunted her mind. Memories that she knew now were all lies. *This* was exactly where they had left off four years ago, only she wasn't running away anymore. But Harry was doing the exact same thing he had done before, he was with another woman. Never mind that this time around he knew what Hermione felt for him (courtesy of her last letter to him, of course), he'd never acted on it. And even if he did love her, what she saw this morning at the flat proved that, clearly, he was over her. Before she even knew he had begun.
And the sad thing was - her heart still ached for him. Reason told her that she should forget Harry. He had already told her that he thought she was a slut and got back at her even more when he had sex with Blaise in his room. Yet, she refused to listen to her mind. Her heart was aching for him, to be touched by him, to be told that he still loved her even if he didn't...
She can't even cry for him anymore. Over the last several years, she has cried for him for too many times, all to no avail. She was still in this rut, she was still alone.
"Am I that undesirable, Dad?" Hermione began in a shaky whisper. Mr. Granger lifted his hand to smooth his daughter's cheek. "Am I really so unattractive that the man I was supposed to marry is only marrying me to preserve people's regard for him and the only man I've ever loved..." she paused, opened her eyes and settled them on Harry's image. "...can never love me back?"
"Oh, sweetheart," Mr. Granger said, his voice thick with emotion. "Of course you're not unattractive. You're very, very beautiful and smart and funny and witty - any guy would be lucky to end up with you."
"If I really am then I shouldn't be alone now, should I?," she countered, drawing her eyes away from Harry. "Perhaps I'm just one of those people who are just not meant to be loved in that way, you know. Maybe I'm destined to end up alone, doomed to spend the rest of my life watching all my friends get married and live wonderfully happy, fulfilling lives."
"Don't say that, honey. You deserve to be loved and cherished and adored for all your life..."
"I deserve to be, but I might as well be pre-ordained to live life alone. I've only had two relationships in the whole of my twenty-one years on this earth - two! And David was the only one who asked me to marry him - for any reason - while the other didn't really even count as a relationship." She sighed so deeply that Mr. Granger could swear she was trying to release all breath from within her. "Maybe I should just marry David anyway. I mean, if I'm going to live my life alone, I might as well have a marriage certificate to show for it. It'll almost be like the same thing."
"Hermione," Mr. Granger's voice was sharp and shaky. "You stop saying that. Your mum and I love you. I love you very much, sweetie. You don't need to be alone."
"Oh, Dad, you don't understand," she said, turning her head to face him. "I am alone. No matter how much you tell me that I'll never be alone because I have you and Mum, it's not the same. You and Mum will always have each other to love, to cherish, to adore...I want some of that, too. I want someone who'll give me chocolates and roses on Valentine's Day. I want someone who'll take me out to a romantic, candlelit dinner during our anniversary. I want someone who'll plan out the perfect marriage proposal and go crazy when things don't go as planned. I want moonlight and dancing and horse-drawn carriages. I want to be ravaged by passion and heat and love and ecstasy and joy. I want someone who'll look at me lovingly with those beautiful green eyes and tell me that everything's going to be okay, because he'll make it right..." Hermione faced away from him again, stopping herself before she said any more.
Mr. Granger winced at his daughter's confession. She wanted Harry, that much was obvious. But he'd obviously done something that made her believe that he didn't want to be with her. And he wanted to know what he had done to make her act this way, but was too afraid to press Hermione.
"I was stupid enough to think that Harry could actually love me anyway," she murmured, her eyes back on his image on the wall. "I mean, *me*? Why would he want someone like me?" Her smile was painful to see and Mr. Granger wished that she would just frown and cry, rather than pretend to be consoling herself.
"Why wouldn't he?" he asked her, squeezing her hand. "You're the most perfect creature on this planet and he's got to be daft not to notice you."
"Oh, no, Harry's far from being daft. His tastes just don't go in the way of bookwormish, frizzy-haired, dull-eyed girls like me."
"You should've seen this other girl, Dad," she added, facing him again, the painful smile still on her face as she told the story. "She was so beautiful and slender and her hair was so...straight and her face was perfect. Harry likes those kinds of girls, I mean, it's only natural that he end up with someone like her. Harry's perfect, he doesn't need someone like me cramping his style, does he?"
Mr. Granger said nothing and Hermione went on. "And she was making him yell very loudly, I'm not ashamed to admit it. She knows exactly what to do and how to make him happy - what could I bring into a relationship? If we were together..." She stopped, clearly contemplating the idea of herself and Harry. "If we were together, I'd just be a burden to him. I mean, Harry's so experienced in these things. I wouldn't be able to satisfy him in the way he deserves to be satisfied.
So, it's better this way," she finished.
"Hermione..."
She smiled that painful smile again and patted her father's hand so softly, he hardly felt it. "It *is* better this way, Dad. I was just stupid to believe that, after all this time, Harry could ever fall in love with someone like me."
"How could you say that?" Mr. Granger said softly. "You are not stupid, why wouldn't someone like Harry want you? If you ask me, he's the one who's stupid enough to let you slip away. You are the most amazing, most wonderful, most beautiful woman in the world, Hermione. And if he can't see that, then, he doesn't deserve you."
"Perhaps," she whispered, as a single tear coursed down her cheek. The first sign of her pain. "I was never meant to deserve *him*."