Title: Winds of Change
Author: Kary Starr
Ship: Harry/Hermione
Rating: PG-13/R
Summary: After the Great War, things have changed. Hermione learns to deal with what life is really about, and how to deal it—realizing that not everything can be handled on her own.
Genre: Angst, Romance, Humour
Story Canon: 1-5
AN: Hey, I'm back…again…I do have three chapters for you sorry people who feel the need to read the shit I write. Note to all of you who do not know me: Alan Rickman is GOD. Anything else is just pretendin'. I'm at school right now, isn't that weird? It's summer. But I got an A. I GOT AN A! In Meteorology 100! Shocking, ain't it? And right now, if you like Parvati with some sort of sick perversion, or just like her because she's the Divination Drama Queen, then you'd better kip out. I don't like her much at all. She's a wispy, wispy person.
And can someone please explain to my mother, who obviously doesn't not understand ANYTHING, that Aunt Petunia cannot be a Squib.
And that is all I can say. Enjoy! Review! Love you!
* * *
Chapter Two: Blue
* * *
Hermione had just finished the last word to her essay when Harry and Ron bounded into the Gryffindor Common Room, smiling and making a lot of noise. After blowing the last word carefully dry, she set her white quill down and rolled the parchment, looking up.
"How was the storm?" Hermione asked, noticing that their hair was damp from the inch of melting snow atop their heads.
"Never saw a blizzard like it!" Ron exclaimed. "It was great fun, Harry and I caught a snowball fight before McGonagall shooed us inside because of the weather."
Her eyes gazed at the window behind her, from which she was borrowing the light. The clear glass revealed nothing but pure white, nothing to see for any distance. "Well, do you blame her?"
"No," Harry said, rubbing his hair of the wetness. "You made it back all right, then?"
Hermione raised an eyebrow. "Yeah, don't see anything missing do you?" she asked, quizzically.
Ron glanced at Harry, curious at him, too. "Nevermind, Hermione," he muttered, before unbuckling the silver clasp at the base of his heavy black turtleneck, releasing his own cloak. "I'm going to get warmed up."
"Me, too," Ron said, shivering slightly. "Kip us some hot cocoa, will you, Hermione?"
"Oh, sure, want me to do the laundry, too?" she asked sarcastically, standing and closing the inkbottle.
"Actually..." Ron started, then started to laugh.
"I'll get some hot chocolate for you," Hermione said, smiling at him, before turning her attention to placing the parchment in her bag along with her Transfiguration book.
"Thank you," he said, walking up the boys' staircase. Harry hung behind, and it wasn't until Hermione had finished packing her bag that she noticed he was still there.
"Something you need, Harry?" she asked, setting her bag on the stone stairs up to the girls' dormitory, which was to the left of its identical pair. Standing straight, she pulled nervously at the ends of her white ribbed turtleneck, her fingers brushing against her navy skirt. Play it cool, Ace.
"I'm still worried about you, Hermione," Harry said, staring at her. Hermione turned her head away, and tried, for the millionth time, to act casual when they were alone. Easier said than done.
"Don't, Harry," she said. "Go get changed—I'll get your hot chocolate."
Harry frowned slightly. "Don't bother getting me one," he said on his way upstairs. "I'm going to meet Cho is five minutes, anyway."
Lucky for her, Harry did not see Hermione stick out her tongue and roll her eyes. Little Miss Perfect Cho, with her dainty figure and perky nose, with long, sleek black hair and nice eyes. Give me a bloody break. Why does she have to come here on the weekends? Isn't there anything better she can do? What exactly is this "Ministry" job, anyway? Cho, who had gotten a job through the Ministry after the war ended, would on occasion come to Hogwarts and spend the weekends there, mostly hanging all over Harry.
"Right then," she replied coolly and walked out of the Common Room, down to the kitchens. She tickled the pear and asked kindly, though ever since her fourth year didn't appreciate the slavery of their species, a house elf to give her two cups of hot cocoa and some éclairs, knowing Ron would be upset if she didn't bring any back.
Carrying the tray carefully, she told the Fat Lady the password—"Magellan"—and entered, just as Harry was about to walked out.
"Talk to you later, Hermione," he said, walking quickly by.
She stopped, and turned to him. "Yeah, talk to you later," she echoed dully. Harry didn't even notice, he just continued to move at a fast pace. Sighing irritably, she walked inside the red and gold decorated Common Room and set the tray on the table before the fire. Hermione plopped out down the maroon couch and looked around.
Hermione always liked how warm and cozy the Common Room felt, despite how angry or sad she was. It was more of a home than even her own house. She loved how the banners of red and gold hung aesthetically on the blue stone, with tapestries and pictures attempting to decorate the rest of the bare space. Mahogany desks and chairs littered the walls and in between; some occupied, others not. Right now, there were a couple first years playing Exploding Snaps at the table at the other end of the Common Room. Maroon fabric couches and chairs, always plush and warm, were settled into circles around the large basement-like area. Overhead, in the middle, two stone bridges linking dorms from older students to younger students, one for both girls and boys, were at opposite ends. Hermione, taking a deep breath, tried to steady herself before Ron showed. He, besides Harry, was the only one she had to be especially careful around—Hermione had a tendency to admit things and slip more often than she liked.
She heard Ron's voice and pulled her head from its resting place at the back of the couch, to see him kiss Parvati on the lips before breaking and looking over at her. He grinned and, taking her by the hand, led Parvati over to where Hermione was sitting.
Hermione tried to make conversation as they took the seats next to her. "Since when is...this?"
"Since this afternoon's snowball fight," Parvati said, matter-of-factly, taking Hermione's mug of hot chocolate. Hermione sighed inwardly, wanting to hit someone very hard, not caring whom it was. "It was so romantic, we just walked away and had our own little private conversation, and then one of the Ravenclaws...Loony, perhaps?...pushed me into Ron. Of course, I always thought she liked him, myself, but she certainly helped the kissing along."
Hermione remained silent. She knew that Luna Lovegood, the girl Parvati had referred to, was desperately in love with Ron, as much as she was in love with Harry, though Luna did not know that. Hermione figured that Luna had only pushed Parvati into Ron to hit Parvati, but far be it from her to announce to that slut that she wasn't intentionally "helping the kissing along."
Poor Luna, Hermione thought, standing. "Well, gotta run, enjoy the chocolate, Ron," she said, starting to walk away.
"Thanks," he replied, his mouth full of éclair. She shook her head. Truly, the emotional range of a teaspoon. Probably the one Parvati's pulling out of her mouth after drinking MY cocoa.
Anyway, I wonder how Luna is faring.
* * *
Hermione had wandered into the library, and walked through to the back of the room. There, sitting, was Cho and Harry, their hands entwined, with Ginny and Luna sitting next to them. Luna, slightly eccentric but usually cheerful, had her head down in her arms, her shoulders shaking from crying. No one had caught her yet, so she hid behind the bookcase and listened in for a second.
"Luna, darling," Ginny was saying, putting her hand on the longhaired girl's shoulder, "I think Ron is just bewitched by Parvati's reputation. I mean, it's not like she's clean, right?"
"I just...don't think...that this is fair! I mean, I've been so nice to him, and everything, and then I thought today I would get my chance, when Ron came over, but then...Parvati...scooped him up...and I just couldn't take it...seeing them...seeing him...with her...so I rushed past them, bumping into her on accident, and then...oh, God, she certainly seized the opportunity!" she cried, her muffled voice bawling into her black sweater.
Oh, my goodness, Luna... Hermione thought, remembering back to her own feelings about Harry and Cho's relationship. It was murder, anguish, and hell, especially that determining moment stupid Cho made her move first.
Hermione took a deep breath. Though she knew it was harder—harder and harder each time—to see Cho and Harry, giving each other looks of love and occasionally kisses, she had to be there for Luna. Luna was as close like a sister as Ginny ever was, though Hermione's secrets were not for sale for friendships.
She walked from behind the bookshelf and sat down next to the dirty-blonde haired girl. "Luna, I just heard what happened—or rather, unpleasantly saw," she said gently, putting a hand on Luna's. "Ron's a dolt, I really thought for sure that he was going to ask you out soon."
"So did I," Harry spoke, looking at Hermione. "He always said really nice things about you, Luna, and the only other time he did that was when he..." Harry paused, casting his eyes away. "Um, when he liked someone else."
Luna's head lifted from her arms. "I've been so silly, Hermione," she said, her voice breaking.
"Luna, you're not silly," Hermione said quickly, giving her a hug. "Ron's being silly."
Luna wiped her pale eyes with the back of her hand. "Thank you, everyone," she said, trying to smile. "Please don't mention this to Ron, or anyone else. Ever," Luna added dangerously.
"No, of course not," Harry replied, standing with Cho. "I'm glad you feel better."
"Take care, Luna darling," said Cho, squeezing her hand. "I'll talk to you later, all right?"
Luna nodded. They departed and Hermione, determined not to watch them, focused on Ginny, who was absent-mindedly braiding her fiery red hair. "Were you two just here when they showed up?" Hermione asked tentatively, trying not to sound too accusative.
"Yeah, Cho heard from Padma that Parvati, her twin sister, had scored another tally in the Man Department with the Gryffindor Keeper. Cho knew that we'd be in the library all afternoon, we've got our project to work on—" Ginny motioned to the stack of books on the chair next to her and on the floor, which had been cleared off the empty table. "—and then Cho met up with us, saying that she always thought Ron liked her, and Harry sort of confirmed it, but...as you can see..."
"Yeah," Hermione said, her voice fading. "Parvati."
Luna's enormous eyes welled. Hermione smiled assuredly. "Ron'll come to his senses, I bet Harry will talk to him—not about you," she said quickly, noticing Luna's murderous look, "but about Parvati and her reputation. Bet you millions that Mrs. Weasley would pull Ron out of Hogwarts before she'd let him date someone like Parvati...plus what she'd do to him. This is seventh year. Ron's got no time to fool around with someone who taking wispy courses like...Divination," Hermione added for emphasis. "Stupid courses, really."
Luna smiled a little bit, the mistiness coming back into her aura. "Ahh, but if she could see into the future, suppose she saw me take her new boyfriend?"
"Suppose she'd even care?"
"Let's just suppose that she uses that ESP to predict the next STD!" All three girls laughed at Ginny's comment, and for a moment, life was back to the way it used to be.
* * *
Hermione walked alone back to the Common Room later the evening. She kipped out for her Friday exam, was gone for an hour, finished it, and returned to the library to finish helping Luna and Ginny work frantically on their project. She helped them to find books and references that would be of use to them, and afterward, she felt exhausted, deciding to return to the dorm to read and rest a bit, maybe take a warm bath. What better way to wind down such a sad day?
She walked into an empty Common Room—it was only ten o'clock, but Hermione did not need to worry about slipping curfew since in a few short days, she would become Hogwarts' Head Girl. Hermione had not thought about that all week; on Wednesday next, both she and whoever was chosen as Head Boy would be announced at dinner. McGonagall, pressured by others on the staff to keep Hogwarts as normal as possible, was a bit late with the announcing of Prefects and the Head Boy/Girl. Normally chosen in September, McGonagall found herself overwhelmed with the end of the Great War, the matters with the Ministry, and trying to figure out how to run a school with more than 400 students attending. So, with all that, it was understandable why she was in delay.
Sighing irritably, the warm, comfy silence was broken by Harry and Ron yelling down their stairs as they descended.
"Ron, come to grips with yourself—you're possibly the only boy in Hogwarts Parvati has not ensnared in her love trap and you should ask yourself why!" Harry shouted heatedly.
"She's not like that!" Ron yelled back.
"You two should not be having such a private conversation so publicly," Hermione snapped at them. "Take it elsewhere, or tone it down."
"Shut it, Hermione," Ron snarled. "This is none of your concern. Why act so worried when you can't even trust anyone to talk to yourself?"
Hermione's face lit in red. "How dare you talk to me like that? I talk to whomever I please, about what I please, and if I just so happen not share something with you, don't take it personal!"
"Gee, then shut the hell up when it comes to things elsewhere you don't understand!"
"I'm trying to think of all those poor souls asleep, you idiot!"
"Shut it, the both of you!" Harry intervened. Hermione felt tears sting her cheeks.
Clenching her fists, she glared at the both of them, narrowing her eyes. "Forget the both of you," she shouted, angry herself. "Leave me alone! When I want to talk to either of you, I will, not a second before. And if you think you asking me constantly 'Am I all right' is subtle persuasion, then shove your compassionate concerns, I don't need either of you!" Hermione then stormed upstairs.
She walked into the girls' bathroom and ran the tap, seriously considering screaming over the rushing water. Tears were flowing now very fast and uncontrollably. Why was everything happening the way it was? The room was now steamy, so Hermione creaked open the door, summoned her book and robe, peeled off her clothes, put her long brown hair up in a clip, and settled in to relax, even for just a little.
She wasn't reading much, though. Her eyes drifted over the paragraph she was reading, but after fifteen minutes of staring at the same sentence, she gave up and turned to her brooding thoughts. Harry, don't you get it? Don't any of you get it? Why must I bear my soul, to prove that I am an able friend? I believe in talking, but there is no one here I can talk to. I don't want to make anyone worry—imagine if anyone knew the thoughts that ramble in my head! They would lock me up and throw away the key, protect society from my freakish ways!
I have to be so careful what I say around Harry, and Ron. I must be aware that yes, the person sitting across from me, is someone I love more than just a friend. There is nothing that hurts me more than my unrequited love.
After the War, I endured you talking about Cho. Your worries, your concerns, how you felt around her—how it made you feel light and complete. Yet all the while, I am agreeing with you—you do make me feel more complete, more willing to face anything so long as I am with you. I risked my life to save you in the War, to help you escape Voldemort's mind tricks, how he locked you inside your mind. I always was there.
And now, that it's over, am I over? I adamantly refused for the last year and a half to admit that I do, in fact, love my best friend. And the only thing to come out of this realization is that indeed, all the while "building more character," I have to endure the more awkward situations that arise. I'm tired of having my feelings subdued and deflected.
But it's not like anyone is pinning away after me. If you don't even find me attractive, amidst all my flaws, because even I find myself unattractive, and then I have nothing to go on. I know I lack self-confidence. But I felt better each day, when I was around you...but now, that you're hardly even here, those echoes seem to grown much louder. Each day it seems like a little bit more of my concentration goes into not feeling poorly, trying to rid myself of emotion through studying...my safe guard...and it didn't even protect me...from thinking of you and how I feel...all the BLOODY time....
I find myself being more closed off, but I pretended just for you. Just for you, I was okay. I have never told a single person—they look at me and then at Cho, surely, who is the right choice for you? So now I've learned to keep my mouth shut, learned to adjust on my own, but I sometimes feel like somehow, everyone knows. I'm surely too obvious at times. Yet, you are never there when I need you the most.
And that's why, in the end, I will be shunted aside for someone more like Cho. Even by you, Harry, the one I thought was different, will in the end pick another.
It's always another.
