"All right, Miss Hermione, spill. I haven't seen you so depressed since your mother informed you she would not pay for any books beyond the ones absolutely necessary for class."
Startled, Hermione looked up into Tiff's warm brown eyes. She had come to Hogwarts to visit for the holidays, and would leave after New Years. At the moment, they were both alone in the Gryffindor common room. Hermione had swapped her school uniform for dress pants, and the sweater Ron's mother had sent her for Christmas.
" 'Mione," Tiff interrupted gently, "Are you going to talk, or should I tickle it out of you?"
"You wouldn't dare!" Hermione was proven wrong. After Tiff decided she had had enough, she sat on the floor in front of the fire, watching Hermione.
"So, 'Mione, what is it?"
"It's. . . well, promise me you won't laugh?"
"When have I ever laughed? With the exception of Lockhart."
"You were right on that one, Aunt Tiff," Hermione acknowledged with a sigh. "But Aunt Tiff, I think I made a mistake."
"Oh, love, we all do. If it is Harry and Ron, well, perhaps they'll grow a brain and realize they truly do like you."
"It isn't them. Well yes, I know part of it is, but that isn't what I wanted to talk about."
"Severus, then?" At her nod, Tiff sighed and continued, "Oh, 'Mione, I'm sorry. I know you think you are in love with him, but you can't always be right. I'm afraid you will have to move on."
"I don't want to move on! I want him to love me too," Hermione said softly.
"Then you have to confront him about it, 'Mione. If you want him to love you, you'll have to work at it. It takes two," Tiff added gently.
"Trust you to quote songs," Hermione muttered. Laughing, Tiff tickled the bottoms of Hermione's feet.
"It is a good song, love. Now, get to bed. It'll be Christmas a lot sooner if you sleep."
"Happy holidays, Aunt Tiff. Good night." Tiff returned her embrace, and kissed her cheek.
"Happy holidays, 'Mione. Sleep well."
Hermione walked into the dormitory slowly, but once she had closed the door, she cast off her tired expression. Snatching up some writing materials, Hermione penned a letter. After reading her letter over twice, she nodded to herself. It would do. For her intentions, anyway.
Startled, Hermione looked up into Tiff's warm brown eyes. She had come to Hogwarts to visit for the holidays, and would leave after New Years. At the moment, they were both alone in the Gryffindor common room. Hermione had swapped her school uniform for dress pants, and the sweater Ron's mother had sent her for Christmas.
" 'Mione," Tiff interrupted gently, "Are you going to talk, or should I tickle it out of you?"
"You wouldn't dare!" Hermione was proven wrong. After Tiff decided she had had enough, she sat on the floor in front of the fire, watching Hermione.
"So, 'Mione, what is it?"
"It's. . . well, promise me you won't laugh?"
"When have I ever laughed? With the exception of Lockhart."
"You were right on that one, Aunt Tiff," Hermione acknowledged with a sigh. "But Aunt Tiff, I think I made a mistake."
"Oh, love, we all do. If it is Harry and Ron, well, perhaps they'll grow a brain and realize they truly do like you."
"It isn't them. Well yes, I know part of it is, but that isn't what I wanted to talk about."
"Severus, then?" At her nod, Tiff sighed and continued, "Oh, 'Mione, I'm sorry. I know you think you are in love with him, but you can't always be right. I'm afraid you will have to move on."
"I don't want to move on! I want him to love me too," Hermione said softly.
"Then you have to confront him about it, 'Mione. If you want him to love you, you'll have to work at it. It takes two," Tiff added gently.
"Trust you to quote songs," Hermione muttered. Laughing, Tiff tickled the bottoms of Hermione's feet.
"It is a good song, love. Now, get to bed. It'll be Christmas a lot sooner if you sleep."
"Happy holidays, Aunt Tiff. Good night." Tiff returned her embrace, and kissed her cheek.
"Happy holidays, 'Mione. Sleep well."
Hermione walked into the dormitory slowly, but once she had closed the door, she cast off her tired expression. Snatching up some writing materials, Hermione penned a letter. After reading her letter over twice, she nodded to herself. It would do. For her intentions, anyway.