Chpt8: Fairytales of Yesterday (will grow but never die).
The return of morning brought with it the harsh gift of awakening.
Hermione found herself abruptly lunging from her blissful, unconscious haven, into cold reality.
It was a sunny morning, full of melodic birds' calls, and soft breezes.
After blinking her eyes dumbly for a few moments, she turned towards the window, wondering if the cliché had been put there just to spite her.
"Oh, bugger off!" she muttered, turning over, and covering her head with the pillow. "I hate the stupid sun!" She slowly dragged herself out of bed, and sat on the floor, leaning back on its heavy wooden frame. // Okay, // she thought, // Breathe. In. Out. In. Out. Find the pattern. keep breathing. // she lulled her mind into the simple routine of inhale and exhale, until all that was left was the steady rise and fall of her chest. Inhale.
// See, you're fine. // Exhale. // Just another perfectly ordinary Sunday morning. // Inhale. // Harry and Ron will be up in a couple of hours, begging you to go to visit Hagrid with them. // Exhale. // There is absolutely nothing unusual about today. //
Hermione rested her head on the edge of the bed, and tried to keep the pattern, ignoring all the little doubts that tried to break into her concentration. // Everything is exactly as it should be. // Keeping closed eyes, and a steady breath, she slowly rose to her feet, and stood still for a while.
## He's not so bad, you know. ## The little voices insisted, as she continued the regime. ## If he were, then you wouldn't have done it. ## Inhale. // Perfectly normal day. // Hermione opened her eyes, and pulled her night-dress over her arms, purposefully ignoring her reflection in the full-length mirror across from her.
"Accio jeans." She muttered, and held her hand out expectantly. As soon as the material touched her hand, she shoved her legs through, and pulled them up. Next, a dark blue polo-neck, its slightly longer-than-average fit, and hip-hugging tendencies creating the illusion of height, as well as seemingly narrowing her waist. Her mother had convinced her to buy one in every colour, saying that she'd be attracting boys like a magnet with them.
She clicked her tongue, rolling her eyes at the memory. //Whatever//. The words "Hermione" and "boys" were rarely found together in the same sentence unless it referred to Harry and Ron (who couldn't exactly be considered as ideal boyfriend material), or with the words "often tutors" in between.
She really couldn't understand what Snape had seen in her.
Snape.
When it came to him, she really didn't know what to think. For a start, what had she seen in him? And what on earth had possessed her to make her. had she seduced him, or had it been the other way around?
She combed her fingers through her long hair, and went into the bathroom. Snape.
// Argh! Get out my friggin' head! //
Quickly applying a few light coats of clear mascara and lip-gloss, she steeled herself against whatever lay ahead, and marched out of the dormitory. "Hi, Hermione! Are you feeling better yet?" She hadn't even had a chance to register who was in the common room before she had been bombarded from all sides. "Hi guys, I'm fine. What are you doing up so early?"
Apart from them, there were hardly any people there - a few first years, huddled around the fireplace, talking about the Quidditch tryouts for next year's team, and some third year girls giggling in the corner as they read a magazine. "Harry's heading out for Quidditch practice, and I said I'd watch. we were just going up to see if you were going to come too."
Hermione raised her eyebrows and glanced over at Harry, who simply shrugged. Ever since Gryffindor had lost a game to Slytherin in their fifth year, Ron had insisted on helping Harry to train. "There was no getting rid of him!" he mouthed at her, as Ron nattered on, oblivious. She smiled. "No, thanks, Ron, I was heading out to the library." She said automatically.
"The library?" Ron questioned, "I'm sure it won't mind if you don't go for once in your life. it'll still be there tomorrow!"
Harry was pretending to bang his head against the wall behind Ron, and Hermione quickly said, "The library really isn't so bad, Ron, maybe you should come along. I'm sure Harry will be able to manage for today." At this, Harry waved his hands in the air, as she did her best to keep a straight face. Ron looked insulted. "Hermione! Harry's Quidditch practice should not be taken lightly!"
Harry groaned, and Ron turned around. "You ok?" His expression quickly changed into a smile. "Yeah, Ron, I'm great." Ron narrowed his eyes. "You know, if I didn't know better, I'd think that you didn't want me to go with you." He paused, and for a moment, the others held their breath, hoping that he wouldn't get angry. "Oh well." He turned back to Hermione. "If you're sure you aren't coming, then we really should get going. Harry needs to work on his Plumpton Pass." Hermione looked at Harry again. "I thought you'd have mastered that one after your first year." Harry shrugged. Ron tutted, as though Hermione really should know better. "Just because he can catch the snitch in his mouth does not mean that he can catch it in his sleeve. Why are you two laughing?!" "Aw, c'mon, Ron, you're trying to train me to catch the snitch up my sleeve. It's not exactly rocket science is it?" Ron looked confused. "Don't worry." Hermione said, "It's a Muggle thing. The point is, well, it's not very. erm. complex." He turned to Harry, outraged. "Tactical playing, Harry! Tactical playing! It's the only way to beat those filthy Slytherin scum!" Harry had obviously given up. "Yes, Ron, you've said. Come on then. Quidditch practice it is."
Hermione looked on, as the two boys exited through the portrait hole, and could clearly hear Ron begin to give Harry advice. "I've noticed that your broom tilts forwards quite a lot, Harry, try to lean back a bit when you're flying so." Hermione smiled. Not everyone could claim to have friends like these. Sitting down in one of the plump chairs, she thought for a moment. She hadn't thought about Snape for a whole ten minutes. Wow. That must be a record. Not knowing how to deal with a situation was something that Hermione wasn't used to. But then, she wasn't used to doing things on impulse either. Things were changing. Godammit, she wan't used to change either! She didn't like change. it made things so unreliable and uncertain -
"Hermione?" It was Ginny. "Are you okay?"
Ginny Weasley. Naïve little Ginny Weasley was standing there, next to her, with worry written all over her face. Hermione nodded. "Sure, Ginny, I'm fine." The girl stood in silence, before moving away to pull another chair up next to hers. "You sure don't sound it." Her voice was soft and low, and although Hermione didn't want it, the emotions of last night began to flood over her again. She looked up. "How long have you been there?" Ginny shrugged. "I came down a bit before Harry and Ron did.. I was here last night as well." "Oh?" She was giving Hermione one of those knowing looks that you'd expect from a teacher. "You might be able to brush this off as being 'tired', or 'that time of the month again' to the boys, but I'm not stupid. There's something wrong, and I'm not going to let you wallow in it."
Hermione laughed. Hollow and uncontrollable, she couldn't stop until it was replaced by the heavy sobs.
"It's okay, I want to help you." She heard Ginny saying, pulling her into a tight hug as the cries receded. "I don't know what to do!" she said, "I've been so stupid, and now I don't know how to fix it!"
"Here." She was handed a handkerchief, and replied with a weak smile. "Thanks." Eventually, she sat back, and stared blankly at the floor, before glancing up at the redhead in front of her.
"I can't tell you, Ginny. I- I think I need to figure this out on my own." Ginny nodded. "Okay, but I'm right here, you know, in case you ever-" "Yeah, thanks." Hermione stood up. "Well, I'm going to the library. I've got a 4 foot essay to write for History of Magic." "'kay. I guess I'll see you around then." "Yeah. I'll see you around." As she climbed out of the portrait hole, Hermione wondered if she should feel guilty for lying to Ginny, after all, she didn't often lie to anyone at all, never mind her friends. The hallways were empty, as the most of school basked in their weekly Sunday-morning lie in. If she hadn't finished that essay two days ago, she might actually need to finish it, she conceded. It wasn't as if she owed Ginny any sort of explanation.. Footsteps: Swift and clear, steadily getting closer.
Hermione would recognise that sound from a million miles away - the Potions Master was out on the prowl. // Shit! // Her mind was screaming at her, as she desperately looked around for an escape route before it was . too late.
"Ah. Miss Granger." He sneered. "Not helping Potter with his Quidditch practice?" Harry's name sounded like acid on his tongue, as he viciously spat it out.
Hermione edged away from him, and shook her head. "No- No sir."
Her saw her move, and smirked. "Don't worry, I don't bite."
"Yes sir, I just, erm, I was going to the library sir." "Of course! The library. Where else." He looked on as she backed herself into the wall, and seemed to freeze, before searching for a way around him. It seemed to him that the Granger- girl had finally lost it. He stepped forwards. "If I didn't know better, I would think that you were up to something." He smirked again, before adding a sarcastic "Good day", and sweeping down the corridor. Hermione was frozen to the wall, watching him disappear around the corner, before she was finally able to kick her brain into action, and run towards the library.
## If I didn't know better, I would think that you were up to something. ##
The return of morning brought with it the harsh gift of awakening.
Hermione found herself abruptly lunging from her blissful, unconscious haven, into cold reality.
It was a sunny morning, full of melodic birds' calls, and soft breezes.
After blinking her eyes dumbly for a few moments, she turned towards the window, wondering if the cliché had been put there just to spite her.
"Oh, bugger off!" she muttered, turning over, and covering her head with the pillow. "I hate the stupid sun!" She slowly dragged herself out of bed, and sat on the floor, leaning back on its heavy wooden frame. // Okay, // she thought, // Breathe. In. Out. In. Out. Find the pattern. keep breathing. // she lulled her mind into the simple routine of inhale and exhale, until all that was left was the steady rise and fall of her chest. Inhale.
// See, you're fine. // Exhale. // Just another perfectly ordinary Sunday morning. // Inhale. // Harry and Ron will be up in a couple of hours, begging you to go to visit Hagrid with them. // Exhale. // There is absolutely nothing unusual about today. //
Hermione rested her head on the edge of the bed, and tried to keep the pattern, ignoring all the little doubts that tried to break into her concentration. // Everything is exactly as it should be. // Keeping closed eyes, and a steady breath, she slowly rose to her feet, and stood still for a while.
## He's not so bad, you know. ## The little voices insisted, as she continued the regime. ## If he were, then you wouldn't have done it. ## Inhale. // Perfectly normal day. // Hermione opened her eyes, and pulled her night-dress over her arms, purposefully ignoring her reflection in the full-length mirror across from her.
"Accio jeans." She muttered, and held her hand out expectantly. As soon as the material touched her hand, she shoved her legs through, and pulled them up. Next, a dark blue polo-neck, its slightly longer-than-average fit, and hip-hugging tendencies creating the illusion of height, as well as seemingly narrowing her waist. Her mother had convinced her to buy one in every colour, saying that she'd be attracting boys like a magnet with them.
She clicked her tongue, rolling her eyes at the memory. //Whatever//. The words "Hermione" and "boys" were rarely found together in the same sentence unless it referred to Harry and Ron (who couldn't exactly be considered as ideal boyfriend material), or with the words "often tutors" in between.
She really couldn't understand what Snape had seen in her.
Snape.
When it came to him, she really didn't know what to think. For a start, what had she seen in him? And what on earth had possessed her to make her. had she seduced him, or had it been the other way around?
She combed her fingers through her long hair, and went into the bathroom. Snape.
// Argh! Get out my friggin' head! //
Quickly applying a few light coats of clear mascara and lip-gloss, she steeled herself against whatever lay ahead, and marched out of the dormitory. "Hi, Hermione! Are you feeling better yet?" She hadn't even had a chance to register who was in the common room before she had been bombarded from all sides. "Hi guys, I'm fine. What are you doing up so early?"
Apart from them, there were hardly any people there - a few first years, huddled around the fireplace, talking about the Quidditch tryouts for next year's team, and some third year girls giggling in the corner as they read a magazine. "Harry's heading out for Quidditch practice, and I said I'd watch. we were just going up to see if you were going to come too."
Hermione raised her eyebrows and glanced over at Harry, who simply shrugged. Ever since Gryffindor had lost a game to Slytherin in their fifth year, Ron had insisted on helping Harry to train. "There was no getting rid of him!" he mouthed at her, as Ron nattered on, oblivious. She smiled. "No, thanks, Ron, I was heading out to the library." She said automatically.
"The library?" Ron questioned, "I'm sure it won't mind if you don't go for once in your life. it'll still be there tomorrow!"
Harry was pretending to bang his head against the wall behind Ron, and Hermione quickly said, "The library really isn't so bad, Ron, maybe you should come along. I'm sure Harry will be able to manage for today." At this, Harry waved his hands in the air, as she did her best to keep a straight face. Ron looked insulted. "Hermione! Harry's Quidditch practice should not be taken lightly!"
Harry groaned, and Ron turned around. "You ok?" His expression quickly changed into a smile. "Yeah, Ron, I'm great." Ron narrowed his eyes. "You know, if I didn't know better, I'd think that you didn't want me to go with you." He paused, and for a moment, the others held their breath, hoping that he wouldn't get angry. "Oh well." He turned back to Hermione. "If you're sure you aren't coming, then we really should get going. Harry needs to work on his Plumpton Pass." Hermione looked at Harry again. "I thought you'd have mastered that one after your first year." Harry shrugged. Ron tutted, as though Hermione really should know better. "Just because he can catch the snitch in his mouth does not mean that he can catch it in his sleeve. Why are you two laughing?!" "Aw, c'mon, Ron, you're trying to train me to catch the snitch up my sleeve. It's not exactly rocket science is it?" Ron looked confused. "Don't worry." Hermione said, "It's a Muggle thing. The point is, well, it's not very. erm. complex." He turned to Harry, outraged. "Tactical playing, Harry! Tactical playing! It's the only way to beat those filthy Slytherin scum!" Harry had obviously given up. "Yes, Ron, you've said. Come on then. Quidditch practice it is."
Hermione looked on, as the two boys exited through the portrait hole, and could clearly hear Ron begin to give Harry advice. "I've noticed that your broom tilts forwards quite a lot, Harry, try to lean back a bit when you're flying so." Hermione smiled. Not everyone could claim to have friends like these. Sitting down in one of the plump chairs, she thought for a moment. She hadn't thought about Snape for a whole ten minutes. Wow. That must be a record. Not knowing how to deal with a situation was something that Hermione wasn't used to. But then, she wasn't used to doing things on impulse either. Things were changing. Godammit, she wan't used to change either! She didn't like change. it made things so unreliable and uncertain -
"Hermione?" It was Ginny. "Are you okay?"
Ginny Weasley. Naïve little Ginny Weasley was standing there, next to her, with worry written all over her face. Hermione nodded. "Sure, Ginny, I'm fine." The girl stood in silence, before moving away to pull another chair up next to hers. "You sure don't sound it." Her voice was soft and low, and although Hermione didn't want it, the emotions of last night began to flood over her again. She looked up. "How long have you been there?" Ginny shrugged. "I came down a bit before Harry and Ron did.. I was here last night as well." "Oh?" She was giving Hermione one of those knowing looks that you'd expect from a teacher. "You might be able to brush this off as being 'tired', or 'that time of the month again' to the boys, but I'm not stupid. There's something wrong, and I'm not going to let you wallow in it."
Hermione laughed. Hollow and uncontrollable, she couldn't stop until it was replaced by the heavy sobs.
"It's okay, I want to help you." She heard Ginny saying, pulling her into a tight hug as the cries receded. "I don't know what to do!" she said, "I've been so stupid, and now I don't know how to fix it!"
"Here." She was handed a handkerchief, and replied with a weak smile. "Thanks." Eventually, she sat back, and stared blankly at the floor, before glancing up at the redhead in front of her.
"I can't tell you, Ginny. I- I think I need to figure this out on my own." Ginny nodded. "Okay, but I'm right here, you know, in case you ever-" "Yeah, thanks." Hermione stood up. "Well, I'm going to the library. I've got a 4 foot essay to write for History of Magic." "'kay. I guess I'll see you around then." "Yeah. I'll see you around." As she climbed out of the portrait hole, Hermione wondered if she should feel guilty for lying to Ginny, after all, she didn't often lie to anyone at all, never mind her friends. The hallways were empty, as the most of school basked in their weekly Sunday-morning lie in. If she hadn't finished that essay two days ago, she might actually need to finish it, she conceded. It wasn't as if she owed Ginny any sort of explanation.. Footsteps: Swift and clear, steadily getting closer.
Hermione would recognise that sound from a million miles away - the Potions Master was out on the prowl. // Shit! // Her mind was screaming at her, as she desperately looked around for an escape route before it was . too late.
"Ah. Miss Granger." He sneered. "Not helping Potter with his Quidditch practice?" Harry's name sounded like acid on his tongue, as he viciously spat it out.
Hermione edged away from him, and shook her head. "No- No sir."
Her saw her move, and smirked. "Don't worry, I don't bite."
"Yes sir, I just, erm, I was going to the library sir." "Of course! The library. Where else." He looked on as she backed herself into the wall, and seemed to freeze, before searching for a way around him. It seemed to him that the Granger- girl had finally lost it. He stepped forwards. "If I didn't know better, I would think that you were up to something." He smirked again, before adding a sarcastic "Good day", and sweeping down the corridor. Hermione was frozen to the wall, watching him disappear around the corner, before she was finally able to kick her brain into action, and run towards the library.
## If I didn't know better, I would think that you were up to something. ##