I've been telling this story from Hermione's semi-POV, but in parts of this
chapter, we will take a look inside Bill's head, to see what's going on in
our favourite Weasley's mind. Alright, alright, make that MY favourite
Weasley. *sighs dreamily* Oh, that's right, I'm writing a story here. Sorry
*blushes*.
If my switching POV's is confusing tell me. I'll TRY to keep my switches regular.
This chapter will have a higher rating; PG-13, because of the occasional swearword.
***'
Hermione was surprisingly enough up before Bill the next morning. He got up and found her sitting in her bed, already deep in the biography. He smiled a shook his head; from what he'd heard from Ron, this was typical behaviour from Hermione. He wasn't sure if his brother had got it right, though, since Hermione seemed to have a lot more going on in her life than just studying.
From the sound of Ron's complaining, she did nothing but study all summer long. Ron also said that Hermione was a teacher's pet, a know-it-all but in a good way, and so perfect it was disgusting. The bottom line was, Ron said Hermione was a nice girl.
But nice girls don't wear T-shirts that state that their families are insane. Nice girls don't break the rules and steal from their Potions Master's storerooms. Nice girls don't attack their professors. And nice girls weren't interesting.
So Hermione couldn't logically be a nice girl, because she'd done all that.
He was convinced Ron had a crush on the brown-haired girl. He talked about her all the time, even if it was just to whine about her studying habits. But Hermione hadn't breathed a word about Ron since they arrived in Rome, so he doubted it went both ways.
That was a blessing really; he knew his brother like the back of his own hand, and if anything of what he'd learned about Hermione over the last few days was true, they'd tear each other's throats out if they ever got together. And there was no way Ron could ever keep up with her inquiring mind.
He was allowed to poke fun at his brother. In fact, it was practically his duty as big brother to do so. And right now Ron wasn't here to stop him. Ladies and gentlemen, let the games begin.
*****'
She didn't notice Bill looking at her, until she looked up and saw him leaning against the doorframe, a small smile on his face. She furrowed her brow confusedly.
"Bill? Are you alright?" She ventured after a while.
"Yeah, I am. I'm just thinking. How's it going?" He asked, walking across to sit next to her.
"This book is really interesting! I've only found out how he made the Curse, though." She finished, downcast.
"That's something, at least." He said kindly.
"Yeah, but I thought we'd make some progress after getting these books, and all." She said helplessly.
"´Mione, we've had the books for less than twenty-four hours. No one could have expected us to have made more progress than we already have." He told her.
"I know; I'm always like his. I want to find the answers as quick as possible. When I don't, I get upset, and irritable. Maybe that's why Ron can't stand me." She finished bitterly.
"Why shouldn't he stand you? He has no reason not to." Bill argued.
They were getting somewhere. He'd wondered what his younger brother had done to anger her, but hadn't dared to ask. Now she had conveniently brought the subject up herself.
"I don't know!" She exclaimed, putting the book down on the table. "I study for the tests we have, and he tells me I'm boring. I do my homework on time, and he tells me I should loosen up! I respect my teachers, and he says I should get a life! I don't know what I'm doing wrong, and when I ask him about it, we either fight or he tells be to leave him alone!" She finished, shouting now.
Then she stared at him for a moment, and then realized that she had just shouted at him, poured out her heart about his younger brother, and generally made an idiot of herself. All the stress and the will to prove that she really was up to this came crashing down on her, and she sank down in her chair again, belatedly realizing that she'd stood up sometime during her tirade.
She avoided looking at Bill, knowing that she had probably made him angry by talking about Ron that way; the Weasley's were a close-knit family, and retaliated with force if anyone touched a family member. But he didn't seem to be doing anything. She buried her face in her hands, and tired as she was, began to cry.
*****'
Bill blinked. He'd never expected her to react that violently to a simple question. And then his ears caught up with his brain and replayed the last few sentences. He closed his eyes again. Not again. Why did Ron have to be such a bloody idiot some times? Wait, scratch that; all the time? How could his brother have been stupid enough to start argument with Hermione because she studied?
His eye snapped open again when he heard a sob. He looked around himself in incomprehension, until his eyes lit upon Hermione. Her shoulders were shaking violently, and she had her face in her hands. Alarmed, he got to his feet and knelt by her chair. Having inherited his father's long legs, he still came up to her head.
"Hermione? What's wrong?" He asked softly.
She choked out something he didn't understand and only sobbed harder. She looked so much like Ginny had when Charlie had fallen off his broom and had to go to St. Mungo's. His little sister had cried for hours, and all he could do was hold her and rock her back and forth, whispering in her ear that everything would be alright. Thus, he proceeded to do the same with Hermione.
He wrapped his arms around her, pulling her out of her chair and down on the floor, rocking her back and forth. She clung to his bony frame, sobbing uncontrollably.
"Shh, ´Mione. It's alright. Shh." He whispered in her ear, slowly calming her down.
"No, it's not!" She protested between sobs.
"Shh, calm down, ´Mione, calm down." He soothed.
*****'
After what seemed like hours, she stopped sobbing, and could breathe normally again. Bill still had his arms around her, and she was halfway sitting on his lap, both of them located on the floor. She breathed a little shakily, and Bill seemed to notice she'd stopped crying.
"Want to talk about it?" He asked softly.
"What's there to talk about?" She asked back, voice muffled by his shirt.
He chuckled at that.
"Hermione, you've been crying into my shirt for the last half hour; something in obviously wrong." He said. "Now tell me what it is."
Still clinging to him as if she was drowning, she began to talk.
"Ron and I argue all the time, but we've always made up and become friends again afterwards. We had a fight just before Hogwarts ended this summer, but this time it was worse; he called me names only Malfoy would use, and I told him things I didn't mean. I don't want to talk about that, but we're not on speaking terms anymore." She began.
She looked up at him the best she could with his chin resting on her head.
"I said a few things now that I thought you'd take offence by." She admitted. "I did bad mouth your brother."
"By brother's a bloody prat who needs a good beating to get some sense into his head." Bill declared. "But ´Mione, that's not all, is it?"
"No." She whispered. "It's not. I'm stressed out. I know we've just begun, but I don't feel like we've making any progress at all, and it's so frustrating! I'm a perfectionist when it comes to work, and not finding anything right away makes me feel bad. Oh, listen to me; I can't even explain what's wrong!" She exclaimed. "I'm so worthless."
"No, ´Mione, you're not worthless. Not at all. Worthless people don't have friends, perfect grades or a mind quick enough to rival Albus Dumbledore's. Worthless people don't find out how the Borealis Curse is made in just a matter of hours. A worthless person isn't like you, `Mione." Bill contradicted her.
"And as for not making progress?" He continued, "If this is not making progress, I'd hate to see what making progress is. If it hadn't been for you, I'd still be sitting in that bloody cellar, scratching my head and wondering what kind of curse was placed on the chest. You thought so fast, it made me dizzy. No body's perfect, ´Mione, but you're so close, it's scary."
She hiccoughed, and nodded hesitantly. Bill wrapped his arms tighter around her, and helped her stand.
"Now, if I ever hear you say you're worthless again, I'm going to be angry with you. Very angry. And if anyone ever calls you names, I'm going to kill them, alright?" He said.
She nodded, smiling through her tears.
"Good. Now dry you eyes, and let's get something to eat. You'll think better with food in your stomach." He said, grabbing her by the hand and leading her to the door.
"You know, that sounds like something your mother would say." Hermione commented.
"Of course it is; where do you think I get it from?"
*****'
One hour, a breakfast and three cups of coffee later, Hermione was back to normal. They had opted to eat at a café again, since the only thing the Swan and Dragon offered was porridge, and porridge wasn't enough for someone used to Mrs Weasley's breakfasts.
"Hey, ´Mione, you said you'd show me what a stereo was." Bill said.
"Yeah, I did." She said, eying him curiously.
"Well, since you seem a little sick of the biography right now, I thought we might as well do something else. It could even help us solve the curse quicker." He said, leaning back in his chair.
"You are just as curious about Muggle things as your father, aren't you?" She asked.
"Um, maybe?" He answered.
"Never mind, Bill, it was a rhetorical question. But yes, we could. I'm warning you though, Muggle music might be different than what you're used to." She smiled.
"As long as it's nothing like the Weird Sisters, I'm alright with it." He shuddered, remembering his experiences of wizarding music.
"Oh, not at all, so don't worry." She chuckled.
*****'
She had transfigured her walkman into a stereo, and was currently deep in her trunk, digging around for her CD's. Her taste in music was rather different from most girls her age. Most witches her age, that was. They tended to listen to the Weird Sisters, which could be compared to Westlife, while she listened to bands like Lifehouse and Creed.
When she finally found the one she was looking for, she re-emerged from the trunk, smiling widely. She popped the CD in the stereo, and after selecting the right song, she pushed play. She took a step back and stood beside Bill as the song started.
.
And it's been a while
Since I could hold my head up high
And it's been a while
Since I first saw you
And it's been a while
Since I could stand on my own two feet again
And it's been a while
Since I could call you
.
It was It's Been A While, by Staind, one of her favourite songs. She had fallen in love with it the first time she'd heard it, and had bought the single as soon as she could. Judging from the look in Bill's face, he liked it too. She smiled, closed her eyes and continued to listen to the song.
.
And everything I can't remember
As fucked up as it all may seem
The consequences that I've rendered
I've stretched myself beyond my means
.
She smiled; it fit perfectly. She had stretched herself beyond what she was capable of, and she had messed up her friendship with Ron pretty badly. She knew it was her fault, but she couldn't remember where she'd gone wrong.
.
And it's been a while
Since I could say I wasn't addicted
And it's been a while
Since I could say I love myself as well
And it's been a while
Since I've gone and fucked things up, just like I always do
And it's been a while
But all that shit seems to disappear when I'm with you.
.
She and Ron had always been at each others throats, and would never have been friends had it not been for Harry. But over the years, she had become close with Ron, and her days didn't seem complete if she hadn't argued with Ron at least once. She missed him, plain and simple. She missed him more than she ever thought she could, but with Bill there to take her mind off it, it didn't matter anymore.
.
And everything I can't remember
As fucked up as it all may seem
The consequences that I've rendered
I've gone and fucked things up again
.
Why must I feel this way?
Just make this go away
Just one more peaceful day.
.
She didn't want to break down and cry over the smallest things, just because she and Ron were fighting. The friendship between her, Ron and Harry were one of the most important things in her life, and she didn't want to break it up because of some silly argument over studying. She wanted it to go away, or better yet, never to have happened.
.
And it's been a while
Since I could look at myself straight
And it's been a while
Since I've said I'm sorry
And it's been a while
Since I've seen the way the candles light your face
And it's been a while
But I can still remember just the way you taste.
.
She gave a wry smile; hat was the only place the song didn't go with her feelings. It had been a while since she'd said she was sorry to Ron, but the rest of it was grossly out of place. She had never been in love with Ron, and didn't think she'd ever be.
.
And everything I can't remember
As fucked up as it all may seem to be I know it's me
I cannot blame this on my father
He did the best he could for me
.
And it's been a while
Since I could hold my head up high
And it's been a while
Since I've said I'm sorry
.
No, she could definitely not blame any of this on her father. It was her fault, just as much as it was Ron's. And she wasn't going to blame anyone; as soon as she saw Ron again, she'd apologize to him. Hopefully, he'd apologize to her to.
The song was over, and she turned the stereo off again. She turned to Bill only to find him standing there with his jaw slack, staring. She walked up to him and waved her hand in front of his face, trying to get a reaction. He blinked and shut his mouth.
"´Mione, that was awesome." He got out after a while.
"Thank you. Now that we've taken a break, I've calmed down and shown you how to use a stereo, can we get back to work?" She asked, smiling.
He only nodded, clearly too surprised to speak. They sat down at the table again, and started going through the books. Silence descended over the room, broken only by an owl from Madame Pince with the book on Arabian history. Lunch came and went, dinner arrived and was eaten, and darkness fell.
That night, Hermione and Bill fell asleep equally fast, both dreaming.
*****'
Ending Notes; Damn, a semi-songfic chapter? What is the world coming to? Er, hope you like it anyway. And before you protest; it isn't OOC for Hermione to like Staind and Metallica, (Not that the last was mentioned). I am very much a real-life Hermione, study-wise, and my grades as just as good as hers, I have two best friends, both guys, and the list goes on. And I am a fan of Metallica. See? The point I'm trying to make is that Hermione can like Metallica if she wants to.
If my switching POV's is confusing tell me. I'll TRY to keep my switches regular.
This chapter will have a higher rating; PG-13, because of the occasional swearword.
***'
Hermione was surprisingly enough up before Bill the next morning. He got up and found her sitting in her bed, already deep in the biography. He smiled a shook his head; from what he'd heard from Ron, this was typical behaviour from Hermione. He wasn't sure if his brother had got it right, though, since Hermione seemed to have a lot more going on in her life than just studying.
From the sound of Ron's complaining, she did nothing but study all summer long. Ron also said that Hermione was a teacher's pet, a know-it-all but in a good way, and so perfect it was disgusting. The bottom line was, Ron said Hermione was a nice girl.
But nice girls don't wear T-shirts that state that their families are insane. Nice girls don't break the rules and steal from their Potions Master's storerooms. Nice girls don't attack their professors. And nice girls weren't interesting.
So Hermione couldn't logically be a nice girl, because she'd done all that.
He was convinced Ron had a crush on the brown-haired girl. He talked about her all the time, even if it was just to whine about her studying habits. But Hermione hadn't breathed a word about Ron since they arrived in Rome, so he doubted it went both ways.
That was a blessing really; he knew his brother like the back of his own hand, and if anything of what he'd learned about Hermione over the last few days was true, they'd tear each other's throats out if they ever got together. And there was no way Ron could ever keep up with her inquiring mind.
He was allowed to poke fun at his brother. In fact, it was practically his duty as big brother to do so. And right now Ron wasn't here to stop him. Ladies and gentlemen, let the games begin.
*****'
She didn't notice Bill looking at her, until she looked up and saw him leaning against the doorframe, a small smile on his face. She furrowed her brow confusedly.
"Bill? Are you alright?" She ventured after a while.
"Yeah, I am. I'm just thinking. How's it going?" He asked, walking across to sit next to her.
"This book is really interesting! I've only found out how he made the Curse, though." She finished, downcast.
"That's something, at least." He said kindly.
"Yeah, but I thought we'd make some progress after getting these books, and all." She said helplessly.
"´Mione, we've had the books for less than twenty-four hours. No one could have expected us to have made more progress than we already have." He told her.
"I know; I'm always like his. I want to find the answers as quick as possible. When I don't, I get upset, and irritable. Maybe that's why Ron can't stand me." She finished bitterly.
"Why shouldn't he stand you? He has no reason not to." Bill argued.
They were getting somewhere. He'd wondered what his younger brother had done to anger her, but hadn't dared to ask. Now she had conveniently brought the subject up herself.
"I don't know!" She exclaimed, putting the book down on the table. "I study for the tests we have, and he tells me I'm boring. I do my homework on time, and he tells me I should loosen up! I respect my teachers, and he says I should get a life! I don't know what I'm doing wrong, and when I ask him about it, we either fight or he tells be to leave him alone!" She finished, shouting now.
Then she stared at him for a moment, and then realized that she had just shouted at him, poured out her heart about his younger brother, and generally made an idiot of herself. All the stress and the will to prove that she really was up to this came crashing down on her, and she sank down in her chair again, belatedly realizing that she'd stood up sometime during her tirade.
She avoided looking at Bill, knowing that she had probably made him angry by talking about Ron that way; the Weasley's were a close-knit family, and retaliated with force if anyone touched a family member. But he didn't seem to be doing anything. She buried her face in her hands, and tired as she was, began to cry.
*****'
Bill blinked. He'd never expected her to react that violently to a simple question. And then his ears caught up with his brain and replayed the last few sentences. He closed his eyes again. Not again. Why did Ron have to be such a bloody idiot some times? Wait, scratch that; all the time? How could his brother have been stupid enough to start argument with Hermione because she studied?
His eye snapped open again when he heard a sob. He looked around himself in incomprehension, until his eyes lit upon Hermione. Her shoulders were shaking violently, and she had her face in her hands. Alarmed, he got to his feet and knelt by her chair. Having inherited his father's long legs, he still came up to her head.
"Hermione? What's wrong?" He asked softly.
She choked out something he didn't understand and only sobbed harder. She looked so much like Ginny had when Charlie had fallen off his broom and had to go to St. Mungo's. His little sister had cried for hours, and all he could do was hold her and rock her back and forth, whispering in her ear that everything would be alright. Thus, he proceeded to do the same with Hermione.
He wrapped his arms around her, pulling her out of her chair and down on the floor, rocking her back and forth. She clung to his bony frame, sobbing uncontrollably.
"Shh, ´Mione. It's alright. Shh." He whispered in her ear, slowly calming her down.
"No, it's not!" She protested between sobs.
"Shh, calm down, ´Mione, calm down." He soothed.
*****'
After what seemed like hours, she stopped sobbing, and could breathe normally again. Bill still had his arms around her, and she was halfway sitting on his lap, both of them located on the floor. She breathed a little shakily, and Bill seemed to notice she'd stopped crying.
"Want to talk about it?" He asked softly.
"What's there to talk about?" She asked back, voice muffled by his shirt.
He chuckled at that.
"Hermione, you've been crying into my shirt for the last half hour; something in obviously wrong." He said. "Now tell me what it is."
Still clinging to him as if she was drowning, she began to talk.
"Ron and I argue all the time, but we've always made up and become friends again afterwards. We had a fight just before Hogwarts ended this summer, but this time it was worse; he called me names only Malfoy would use, and I told him things I didn't mean. I don't want to talk about that, but we're not on speaking terms anymore." She began.
She looked up at him the best she could with his chin resting on her head.
"I said a few things now that I thought you'd take offence by." She admitted. "I did bad mouth your brother."
"By brother's a bloody prat who needs a good beating to get some sense into his head." Bill declared. "But ´Mione, that's not all, is it?"
"No." She whispered. "It's not. I'm stressed out. I know we've just begun, but I don't feel like we've making any progress at all, and it's so frustrating! I'm a perfectionist when it comes to work, and not finding anything right away makes me feel bad. Oh, listen to me; I can't even explain what's wrong!" She exclaimed. "I'm so worthless."
"No, ´Mione, you're not worthless. Not at all. Worthless people don't have friends, perfect grades or a mind quick enough to rival Albus Dumbledore's. Worthless people don't find out how the Borealis Curse is made in just a matter of hours. A worthless person isn't like you, `Mione." Bill contradicted her.
"And as for not making progress?" He continued, "If this is not making progress, I'd hate to see what making progress is. If it hadn't been for you, I'd still be sitting in that bloody cellar, scratching my head and wondering what kind of curse was placed on the chest. You thought so fast, it made me dizzy. No body's perfect, ´Mione, but you're so close, it's scary."
She hiccoughed, and nodded hesitantly. Bill wrapped his arms tighter around her, and helped her stand.
"Now, if I ever hear you say you're worthless again, I'm going to be angry with you. Very angry. And if anyone ever calls you names, I'm going to kill them, alright?" He said.
She nodded, smiling through her tears.
"Good. Now dry you eyes, and let's get something to eat. You'll think better with food in your stomach." He said, grabbing her by the hand and leading her to the door.
"You know, that sounds like something your mother would say." Hermione commented.
"Of course it is; where do you think I get it from?"
*****'
One hour, a breakfast and three cups of coffee later, Hermione was back to normal. They had opted to eat at a café again, since the only thing the Swan and Dragon offered was porridge, and porridge wasn't enough for someone used to Mrs Weasley's breakfasts.
"Hey, ´Mione, you said you'd show me what a stereo was." Bill said.
"Yeah, I did." She said, eying him curiously.
"Well, since you seem a little sick of the biography right now, I thought we might as well do something else. It could even help us solve the curse quicker." He said, leaning back in his chair.
"You are just as curious about Muggle things as your father, aren't you?" She asked.
"Um, maybe?" He answered.
"Never mind, Bill, it was a rhetorical question. But yes, we could. I'm warning you though, Muggle music might be different than what you're used to." She smiled.
"As long as it's nothing like the Weird Sisters, I'm alright with it." He shuddered, remembering his experiences of wizarding music.
"Oh, not at all, so don't worry." She chuckled.
*****'
She had transfigured her walkman into a stereo, and was currently deep in her trunk, digging around for her CD's. Her taste in music was rather different from most girls her age. Most witches her age, that was. They tended to listen to the Weird Sisters, which could be compared to Westlife, while she listened to bands like Lifehouse and Creed.
When she finally found the one she was looking for, she re-emerged from the trunk, smiling widely. She popped the CD in the stereo, and after selecting the right song, she pushed play. She took a step back and stood beside Bill as the song started.
.
And it's been a while
Since I could hold my head up high
And it's been a while
Since I first saw you
And it's been a while
Since I could stand on my own two feet again
And it's been a while
Since I could call you
.
It was It's Been A While, by Staind, one of her favourite songs. She had fallen in love with it the first time she'd heard it, and had bought the single as soon as she could. Judging from the look in Bill's face, he liked it too. She smiled, closed her eyes and continued to listen to the song.
.
And everything I can't remember
As fucked up as it all may seem
The consequences that I've rendered
I've stretched myself beyond my means
.
She smiled; it fit perfectly. She had stretched herself beyond what she was capable of, and she had messed up her friendship with Ron pretty badly. She knew it was her fault, but she couldn't remember where she'd gone wrong.
.
And it's been a while
Since I could say I wasn't addicted
And it's been a while
Since I could say I love myself as well
And it's been a while
Since I've gone and fucked things up, just like I always do
And it's been a while
But all that shit seems to disappear when I'm with you.
.
She and Ron had always been at each others throats, and would never have been friends had it not been for Harry. But over the years, she had become close with Ron, and her days didn't seem complete if she hadn't argued with Ron at least once. She missed him, plain and simple. She missed him more than she ever thought she could, but with Bill there to take her mind off it, it didn't matter anymore.
.
And everything I can't remember
As fucked up as it all may seem
The consequences that I've rendered
I've gone and fucked things up again
.
Why must I feel this way?
Just make this go away
Just one more peaceful day.
.
She didn't want to break down and cry over the smallest things, just because she and Ron were fighting. The friendship between her, Ron and Harry were one of the most important things in her life, and she didn't want to break it up because of some silly argument over studying. She wanted it to go away, or better yet, never to have happened.
.
And it's been a while
Since I could look at myself straight
And it's been a while
Since I've said I'm sorry
And it's been a while
Since I've seen the way the candles light your face
And it's been a while
But I can still remember just the way you taste.
.
She gave a wry smile; hat was the only place the song didn't go with her feelings. It had been a while since she'd said she was sorry to Ron, but the rest of it was grossly out of place. She had never been in love with Ron, and didn't think she'd ever be.
.
And everything I can't remember
As fucked up as it all may seem to be I know it's me
I cannot blame this on my father
He did the best he could for me
.
And it's been a while
Since I could hold my head up high
And it's been a while
Since I've said I'm sorry
.
No, she could definitely not blame any of this on her father. It was her fault, just as much as it was Ron's. And she wasn't going to blame anyone; as soon as she saw Ron again, she'd apologize to him. Hopefully, he'd apologize to her to.
The song was over, and she turned the stereo off again. She turned to Bill only to find him standing there with his jaw slack, staring. She walked up to him and waved her hand in front of his face, trying to get a reaction. He blinked and shut his mouth.
"´Mione, that was awesome." He got out after a while.
"Thank you. Now that we've taken a break, I've calmed down and shown you how to use a stereo, can we get back to work?" She asked, smiling.
He only nodded, clearly too surprised to speak. They sat down at the table again, and started going through the books. Silence descended over the room, broken only by an owl from Madame Pince with the book on Arabian history. Lunch came and went, dinner arrived and was eaten, and darkness fell.
That night, Hermione and Bill fell asleep equally fast, both dreaming.
*****'
Ending Notes; Damn, a semi-songfic chapter? What is the world coming to? Er, hope you like it anyway. And before you protest; it isn't OOC for Hermione to like Staind and Metallica, (Not that the last was mentioned). I am very much a real-life Hermione, study-wise, and my grades as just as good as hers, I have two best friends, both guys, and the list goes on. And I am a fan of Metallica. See? The point I'm trying to make is that Hermione can like Metallica if she wants to.