*A/n: sorry I didn't get this up last weekend it just got all kind of busy
and time fell away, and well, its here now, because I'm on short
thanksgiving break. I will probably get another chapter up before this
Monday but Dec 5-7 weekend I'm going to Las Vegas to see a wedding so it
wont really be possibly then. none the less I'll find time to put stuff up,
and you will find time to read, right? maybe? no? well I can live with
that. *shrugs*
thanks to theophania and SkysTheLimit for our continuing support. To my new reviewer Jinxd n cursed thank you, as well as my stories don't often have a clear plot line you can pick up and decipher from the beginning, it might be a flaw, but hey, it makes me feel unique :P
Oh, yes and if I offend anyone in this chapter I'm horribly sorry... hell make that applies to all the chapters... if I ever offend you I'm sorry but that wont stop me from writing it, you know why cause its already written if you reading it, so ha-ha!*
3. I know, *I* watched the warmth blow away
It was a windowsill. A dusty windowsill that contained no window. Just a hole in the wall that sat there defying the normal thought of what should be on that wall. Maybe a shelf or two and it could be a bookshelf, but for now it was a fine place to crawl up in, hoping to die. Hermione sat with her knees to her face, resting her eyes.
Wouldn't be nice if there was a cool breeze coming out of the window. The nonexistent window with a nice cool breathe of air. Not the shit that was continued filtered through the crack under the door. Perhaps a bit of oxygen in her blood stream would do her some good. But no this was her chamber, her torture cell. The sweat drizzling down her back and she could only pull her knees to her chest tighter. Maybe she could stop her own damned breath from breathing in this all.
If this was a real window she could look out to the blue sky. Because in her dream it would be the perfect shade of blue. The type you could see in the clearest lake and would want to reach out into that sky and take a sip. But as you could quench that thirst you would look down. Down onto that cold hard cement. The strong cement, with one crack. The crack with grass finding its way though, just in spite of it all. And you would fall.
The wind coursing through your hair. Oh, would that freedom. It truly would. The air not trying to push against you. Because the air doesn't give a damn what you do. What you think. Or what anyone else thinks you think. In this cool pure air it would never fight against you. Chills up your spin as you fell.
That freedom is that plausible reason for doing whatever the hell you want. But in truth we are all too afraid to have this true freedom. What will happen if I exercise my freedoms to no extent? You'll get thrown in jail. Because you have no freedom. Until that 4 seconds before you die, then you have real freedom. But it's too late then. Might as well just enjoy it in a hypothetical sense.
That last second of freedom before your hit.
The little freedom, Hermione wanted so badly. Because the pain of hitting Hermione had gained without even the triumph of falling. Because Ron didn't want to see her fall. He didn't want to see her stand up for herself either. No, because what Ron wanted was the paper doll bride of his dreams. Or perhaps just his own god damn mother.
"It would be so wonderful Hermione." He had said. Hermione felt a rage flow through her veins. Or perhaps just a confused little jet yet so far. She didn't quite know what he was going to say next. Maybe it would be something totally off topic. Like it would be so wonderful to go out on a long vacation. It would be so wonderful if the results from Hermione's healer exams came back early. Maybe it would be wonderful if she got promoted from a lame nurse to something meaningful.
"It would be so wonderful if you were a mother." Hermione bit hard on her inner lip. Harder and harder till she was pretty sure she created a tear there, in her own flesh. Her face was turned away so he couldn't see her expression. Because what she said two minutes ago was just a sarcastic comment. But now it rang in her ears refracting off the drywall in the room. A deadly echo to cause an avalanche. She should have know not to say them...
-"Yeah, Ron, Like if I didn't pass what would I do then, give birth to your kin?"-
She didn't need to bring that up again but what he said, just pissed her off in that way random things can just get under you skin. Just make you want to yell shut up and slap him across the face. Because what the hell made him say that? ...
-"Well even if you don't pass then you have other plausible things to do, right hon?"-
Yes, oh yes, she wasn't going to pass them if things went Ron's way. He would have had her fail her N.E.W.T. if it had been up to him. Just to keep her at home when he was mourning Harry. Yeah well she had news, she was mourning Harry too. It wasn't just you that were sad. But some of us had to get on with our lives. Some of us think Harry would want us to make a goddamn difference then sit around and mop while valuable years of our lives waste away.
She could see his gravestone now... "Spent his Life Mourning Harry Potter's" ... Oh and there was hers right next to it ... "The Wife That put Ron Weasley Out of His Own Damn Misery."
"I'm not going to birth your babies Ron."Hermione said plainly, finally gaining enough control of her face contortions to look at him. Look him straight in the eye and ask him to even try and fuck with her right now.
"Oh, come on Hermione, don't say that."
"Oh, and I'm going to become a Healer." Hermione said putting on a tight smile. It slide across her face and she glared at him. Oh yes, that was his Adams apple bobbing reluctantly. We all know who the man is in this relationship now Ron.
"I didn't say you wouldn't" Ron said the look on his face somewhat concerned.
"And I'm not going to be one of them big fluffy healers who deal with the pregnant women and their swollen bellies. I will not be on a pediatric floor. I will not look at a little bald mushy thing that looks Identical to every other bald mushy thing and say 'How adorable! I want one! Let me go home and fuck with my husband till pregnant so I can be purposeless or the nine months! Yes lets!'"
"It not a bad thing to be a mother, some of the greatest women in the world were mothers!" Ron cried geting rather desperate and offended.
"Oh, like Lilly potter. Who was so in love with here little flap of potential person that she risked her own damn life to save it. Yes, I know Ron; She was the real reason Voldemort died that first time. Because of her oh so strong Earth magic connecting her and her Love for her child. That boy that she had to carry around with strenuous back pain and had to force out of this little hole in her while her, while her damn husband sat around and tried to comfort her. Oh, no, wait, James wasn't even there for Harry's birth. Poor dear old Harry always thought this dad was a saint. Oh yes he was the best father in the whole damn world! Poor Lilly living and dieing for a lie of a love. She could have done so much better."
"Now you won't insult he dead like that"
"Oh, wait and then there is Ronald's other main motherly influence... his dear old mum. She was the saint. How many of you was there? Six, seven, twenty-two? Oh yes she dedicated her whole life to raising you children. She was so utterly heart broke when Ginny was killed in the war. She went into a suicidal spree, fuck fighting for the side of light. Her baby that the whole entire world taught her to love and cherish forever, because she was the only girl, the only one who she could absolutely depend on for grandchildren was gone. Because with boys they don't need to marry the mother of their children.
But you did so now to try to and make dear old mum feel better lets force your wonderful wife who can bear as many children as she can as long as you keep he semen pumping. Ron I hate to break it to you but it isn't going to work that way."
It was then ton muttered something about her being a bitch and that she shouldn't insult his mother that way, or that it was pretty low assault. Maybe something thrown in there about him wonder what her real gender was, because she evidently wasn't any normal woman and he left.
Hermione had yelled at the door that she was too fucking good to be a normal woman.
Hermione at there with her knees pulled up to her face now. Undistressed by her own lake of breathing. Breathing was not her cup of tea. She could just sit her and imagine the oxygen seeping in though her pores. She didn't need to breathe or think anymore. Because she was falling and soon it would all be over.
Hermione let out a dry hallow cough exhaling the carbon dioxide waste product in her blood stream. Muggle science, her peers in the university would say. They would scoff. Who need that obscenely complex muggle science when we just accept that things happen? Things happen and you should get used to it. Don't try and define it into obscenely small things and that make rules... laws Hermione would mumble and the kids would shrug. Like they cared.
Hermione's stomach clenched and she let out a soft groan and knew immediately she had breathed because her whole body felt lighter. Like her stomach felt lighter. Like her stomach was going to fall up her throat and out of her mouth. Hermione ran to the little porcelain toilet and threw her guts up. Wishing the place had some sort of lemon spritz, freshen up a bit.
Then the truth hit her like a lead brick.
A dangerously toxic lead brick.
Due to her present condition Ron would suggest she would stay away from that lead brick to not damage the growing fetus.
Hermione wanted to throw up again.
thanks to theophania and SkysTheLimit for our continuing support. To my new reviewer Jinxd n cursed thank you, as well as my stories don't often have a clear plot line you can pick up and decipher from the beginning, it might be a flaw, but hey, it makes me feel unique :P
Oh, yes and if I offend anyone in this chapter I'm horribly sorry... hell make that applies to all the chapters... if I ever offend you I'm sorry but that wont stop me from writing it, you know why cause its already written if you reading it, so ha-ha!*
3. I know, *I* watched the warmth blow away
It was a windowsill. A dusty windowsill that contained no window. Just a hole in the wall that sat there defying the normal thought of what should be on that wall. Maybe a shelf or two and it could be a bookshelf, but for now it was a fine place to crawl up in, hoping to die. Hermione sat with her knees to her face, resting her eyes.
Wouldn't be nice if there was a cool breeze coming out of the window. The nonexistent window with a nice cool breathe of air. Not the shit that was continued filtered through the crack under the door. Perhaps a bit of oxygen in her blood stream would do her some good. But no this was her chamber, her torture cell. The sweat drizzling down her back and she could only pull her knees to her chest tighter. Maybe she could stop her own damned breath from breathing in this all.
If this was a real window she could look out to the blue sky. Because in her dream it would be the perfect shade of blue. The type you could see in the clearest lake and would want to reach out into that sky and take a sip. But as you could quench that thirst you would look down. Down onto that cold hard cement. The strong cement, with one crack. The crack with grass finding its way though, just in spite of it all. And you would fall.
The wind coursing through your hair. Oh, would that freedom. It truly would. The air not trying to push against you. Because the air doesn't give a damn what you do. What you think. Or what anyone else thinks you think. In this cool pure air it would never fight against you. Chills up your spin as you fell.
That freedom is that plausible reason for doing whatever the hell you want. But in truth we are all too afraid to have this true freedom. What will happen if I exercise my freedoms to no extent? You'll get thrown in jail. Because you have no freedom. Until that 4 seconds before you die, then you have real freedom. But it's too late then. Might as well just enjoy it in a hypothetical sense.
That last second of freedom before your hit.
The little freedom, Hermione wanted so badly. Because the pain of hitting Hermione had gained without even the triumph of falling. Because Ron didn't want to see her fall. He didn't want to see her stand up for herself either. No, because what Ron wanted was the paper doll bride of his dreams. Or perhaps just his own god damn mother.
"It would be so wonderful Hermione." He had said. Hermione felt a rage flow through her veins. Or perhaps just a confused little jet yet so far. She didn't quite know what he was going to say next. Maybe it would be something totally off topic. Like it would be so wonderful to go out on a long vacation. It would be so wonderful if the results from Hermione's healer exams came back early. Maybe it would be wonderful if she got promoted from a lame nurse to something meaningful.
"It would be so wonderful if you were a mother." Hermione bit hard on her inner lip. Harder and harder till she was pretty sure she created a tear there, in her own flesh. Her face was turned away so he couldn't see her expression. Because what she said two minutes ago was just a sarcastic comment. But now it rang in her ears refracting off the drywall in the room. A deadly echo to cause an avalanche. She should have know not to say them...
-"Yeah, Ron, Like if I didn't pass what would I do then, give birth to your kin?"-
She didn't need to bring that up again but what he said, just pissed her off in that way random things can just get under you skin. Just make you want to yell shut up and slap him across the face. Because what the hell made him say that? ...
-"Well even if you don't pass then you have other plausible things to do, right hon?"-
Yes, oh yes, she wasn't going to pass them if things went Ron's way. He would have had her fail her N.E.W.T. if it had been up to him. Just to keep her at home when he was mourning Harry. Yeah well she had news, she was mourning Harry too. It wasn't just you that were sad. But some of us had to get on with our lives. Some of us think Harry would want us to make a goddamn difference then sit around and mop while valuable years of our lives waste away.
She could see his gravestone now... "Spent his Life Mourning Harry Potter's" ... Oh and there was hers right next to it ... "The Wife That put Ron Weasley Out of His Own Damn Misery."
"I'm not going to birth your babies Ron."Hermione said plainly, finally gaining enough control of her face contortions to look at him. Look him straight in the eye and ask him to even try and fuck with her right now.
"Oh, come on Hermione, don't say that."
"Oh, and I'm going to become a Healer." Hermione said putting on a tight smile. It slide across her face and she glared at him. Oh yes, that was his Adams apple bobbing reluctantly. We all know who the man is in this relationship now Ron.
"I didn't say you wouldn't" Ron said the look on his face somewhat concerned.
"And I'm not going to be one of them big fluffy healers who deal with the pregnant women and their swollen bellies. I will not be on a pediatric floor. I will not look at a little bald mushy thing that looks Identical to every other bald mushy thing and say 'How adorable! I want one! Let me go home and fuck with my husband till pregnant so I can be purposeless or the nine months! Yes lets!'"
"It not a bad thing to be a mother, some of the greatest women in the world were mothers!" Ron cried geting rather desperate and offended.
"Oh, like Lilly potter. Who was so in love with here little flap of potential person that she risked her own damn life to save it. Yes, I know Ron; She was the real reason Voldemort died that first time. Because of her oh so strong Earth magic connecting her and her Love for her child. That boy that she had to carry around with strenuous back pain and had to force out of this little hole in her while her, while her damn husband sat around and tried to comfort her. Oh, no, wait, James wasn't even there for Harry's birth. Poor dear old Harry always thought this dad was a saint. Oh yes he was the best father in the whole damn world! Poor Lilly living and dieing for a lie of a love. She could have done so much better."
"Now you won't insult he dead like that"
"Oh, wait and then there is Ronald's other main motherly influence... his dear old mum. She was the saint. How many of you was there? Six, seven, twenty-two? Oh yes she dedicated her whole life to raising you children. She was so utterly heart broke when Ginny was killed in the war. She went into a suicidal spree, fuck fighting for the side of light. Her baby that the whole entire world taught her to love and cherish forever, because she was the only girl, the only one who she could absolutely depend on for grandchildren was gone. Because with boys they don't need to marry the mother of their children.
But you did so now to try to and make dear old mum feel better lets force your wonderful wife who can bear as many children as she can as long as you keep he semen pumping. Ron I hate to break it to you but it isn't going to work that way."
It was then ton muttered something about her being a bitch and that she shouldn't insult his mother that way, or that it was pretty low assault. Maybe something thrown in there about him wonder what her real gender was, because she evidently wasn't any normal woman and he left.
Hermione had yelled at the door that she was too fucking good to be a normal woman.
Hermione at there with her knees pulled up to her face now. Undistressed by her own lake of breathing. Breathing was not her cup of tea. She could just sit her and imagine the oxygen seeping in though her pores. She didn't need to breathe or think anymore. Because she was falling and soon it would all be over.
Hermione let out a dry hallow cough exhaling the carbon dioxide waste product in her blood stream. Muggle science, her peers in the university would say. They would scoff. Who need that obscenely complex muggle science when we just accept that things happen? Things happen and you should get used to it. Don't try and define it into obscenely small things and that make rules... laws Hermione would mumble and the kids would shrug. Like they cared.
Hermione's stomach clenched and she let out a soft groan and knew immediately she had breathed because her whole body felt lighter. Like her stomach felt lighter. Like her stomach was going to fall up her throat and out of her mouth. Hermione ran to the little porcelain toilet and threw her guts up. Wishing the place had some sort of lemon spritz, freshen up a bit.
Then the truth hit her like a lead brick.
A dangerously toxic lead brick.
Due to her present condition Ron would suggest she would stay away from that lead brick to not damage the growing fetus.
Hermione wanted to throw up again.