Ch. 5
The dim light of her office somehow felt more confining to Hermione than it ever had before. She vaguely wondered what she was doing there, before snapping back to reality—including the twenty page report she had promised for the next morning. It was one of those days where Hermione got so stressed out she felt like crying. Today, she just snapped her already quivering quill and blew a straying frizzy lock out of her face.
Comfort, she was unwilling to admit to herself, was what she needed. Someone to hug her in their arms and reassure her that everything was going to be okay; that her world was still the same embracing world, her life was still on the same right track. But really, Hermione's life had lately been more of a bad dream.
It was the sort of dream in which the person doesn't really realize how bad it was until after it's over, or at least once they're sunk quite low in it. Because nothing really bad would be happening in the dream, and everything would be going pretty okay and rather normal. Except that there would be one thing, one missing thing. And maybe the dreamer wouldn't ever realize it was missing until they allowed themselves to question why it felt so empty--why it wasn't a good dream, or even a nightmare. And even something joyous perceived in that dream world would feel not worth celebrating all out for—because life wasn't allowed to be perfect with that piece absent from the picture.
Hermione was considering this, and falsely trying to figure out when her life became like this. It was silly of her really, to even pretend to think about it, because she knew. It was Ron, of course. What else, really, could it be? Her job, Jane, and her friends were all wonderful. Yes, her life had sunk from the place of fulfillment seven years ago.
FlaShBaCk
Dear Ron, Hermione's hand shook almost violently as she wrote. She stared at the greeting and decided to start over. Ron— I am writing to tell you that I think it would be best if we ended everything. I filed for a divorce yesterday, the papers should reach you about the same time you receive this. I'm sor Hermione scratched out determinedly the last word and continued. not planning on seeing you anymore. Goodbye Ron. --Hermione
She gave the letter to Pig, whom her nearly ex husband had left with her. The owl seemed somewhat agitated, but Hermione, who had lost her determined look and was now bawling her eyes out, had no patience and simply opened the kitchen window and directed the owl to the sky with her index finger.
A small, four year old Jane walked tentatively into the room. "Mummy, are you missing daddy again?" she asked, seeing her mother's puffy face.
"Not anymore," she managed to reply.
PrEsEnT
Hermione was becoming dangerously close to writing a note to self about remembering to never bring up those feelings again. She had been very good, save for perhaps his birthday and their wedding anniversary, about not feeling depressed over him. Perhaps it was because Jane seemed to be interrogating and giving her grief over their break up more than usual. It wasn't as if she had cut it off to make Jane's life harder on purpose. It wasn't as if he really wanted to be married to her anyways.
Jane was now listening intently. After all, she had been anticipating this talk for a long time.
"I don't know if you remember this...well, I mean, you know how I used to be an Auror, right? Like before I took up the Cannons. I actually was paired up with Uncle Harry. Yes, well anyway, we...er, we had to take up a mission. It was far away—"
"That was when you left," Jane interrupted, practically sitting on the edge of her seat
"Er—yeah, so you remember then. Well, anyway, I uh...I had to go because it was, well it was really important. And then your mom sent me a letter a few months later saying it was over."
"Why?"
"Why?" Ron asked, as if he was coming out of a trance.
"Yeah, like why did she want to get a divorce? Did you do something wrong?"
"Yeah, well....um, she didn't really want me going. Like we sort of fought about it before I left...kind of complicated."
"Dad, you said it was simple."
"Well it was...we fought, I left on the job, and then she just broke up with me...I came back of course, I mean obviously, you remember me coming back, don't you?"
"Yeah. I mean, I remember you popping your head in the fireplace from like Uncle Harry's or something and mum telling me to go to my room, and then," she continued a little more softly, "then I just heard you yelling at each other."
"Yeah, I was just coming by to tell her I wanted to talk in person—full person—about the whole thing, and yeah...er... it didn't really work out. And she was getting all pissed at me, so I left. And she never...."
"let you back again," Jane finished. "But why didn't she want you going? How come you didn't just stay if it was so important to her? Why did she mind so much? It's not like you were leaving forever, right?"
Ron sighed. He was beginning to feel a little queasy. "I don't know...really. Jane, honey...it's just over, okay? We can't really change anything now, and it's fine....sometimes, relationships just weren't made to work out—they don't always last."
The girl's insides were squirming. Weren't made to work out? How many times had her aunts and uncles described the way her parents used to look at each other? Jane knew she just couldn't stand by and not do anything. She could get them back together. She knew she could.
For the exciting story with juicy secrets she had been waiting for really wasn't very satisfying at all. How could her parents accept that little Auror mission thing as an excuse for severing their marriage? Jane decided that if she was going to play this whole detective witch thing correctly, she would need to talk to her mum.
"So...er, Jane? You wanna go home and play chess or something? I can help you with how you use your knight like you asked, if you want."
"Oh...yeah, sure. Let's go, dad."
The rest of the afternoon passed with strictly innocent, non- controversial issues between the two of them. Jane and Ron were still having a great time together—the time spent was merely a little more awkward and reserved. By the time Jane's quidditch practice rolled around, Ron was still work-free, and so he attended her practice, sitting in the back of one of the stands.
Jane's practice was at one of the fields Fred, Angelina, George, Katie, Lee, and Alicia had set up. The six of them had organized a charity once Weasley's Wizard Wheezes had started going really well, that set aside land for quidditch pitches for teams that otherwise couldn't have existed. They had a kids' league going, one that they knew themselves and others would have loved to have as children to prepare for the Hogwarts school teams. Ron knew Hermione probably wouldn't have let Jane play if it weren't for the fact that a bunch of her old school friends had started the program.
As usual, Ron thoroughly enjoyed watching Jane play—not just because she was a superb flyer, but also because of the way she interacted with her friends. She gave of the impression of being in complete control with them, yet she could laugh so hard at one of their jokes that she'd find herself dangling from her broom by her ankles. And when the sun bounced off of her face, Ron could just make out a charming glint in her eye, that showed off her happiness and concentration on the game...but today, there was something else there too—determination.
When the coach blew the whistle, and all the kids touched back down to the ground, Ron got up slowly, stretching out his legs. Looking over his shoulder, he watched as a small car made its way into the small, mostly unused parking lot. The driver rolled down the window, and when Ron squinted, he saw that the person was a woman, a woman with seemingly bushy brown hair.
Finding it hard to tear his eyes away from that spot, Ron turned to step downward towards the field, nearly tripping over himself. Once he was back at ground level, his daughter came running up to him, saying, "Hey, dad! Thanks for watching! Well, um, I just saw mum in the parking lot, so I guess she wants to take me home now...thanks for the great day! I had a lot of...a lot of fun, thanks!"
"Oh, yeah, Jane, no problem...I had a good time, too. Just call me whenever we can get together again, k?"
"Yeah, sure thing, dad! Bye!" she called, running into the distance towards the parked car.
As Hermione was waiting in the car for Jane, she took her time observing the field and surrounding areas. She was glad, she decided, that Jane had something to occupy her time like this, a place where she could hang out with her friends and have fun. It sort of made Hermione jealous. As she was looking around, though, her eyes stopped when they came across the figure of a tall man. In the bright lights illuminating the field, she could distinguish his hair as being unmistakably red.
Jane waved at her mother as she walked in front of the car, opened the door, and climbed in. "Hey mum!" she said.
"Oh...hi, darling. Did you have a good practice? How was your day?"
"It was great, mum! Thanks for...you know, letting dad take me. We had a good time."
The dim light of her office somehow felt more confining to Hermione than it ever had before. She vaguely wondered what she was doing there, before snapping back to reality—including the twenty page report she had promised for the next morning. It was one of those days where Hermione got so stressed out she felt like crying. Today, she just snapped her already quivering quill and blew a straying frizzy lock out of her face.
Comfort, she was unwilling to admit to herself, was what she needed. Someone to hug her in their arms and reassure her that everything was going to be okay; that her world was still the same embracing world, her life was still on the same right track. But really, Hermione's life had lately been more of a bad dream.
It was the sort of dream in which the person doesn't really realize how bad it was until after it's over, or at least once they're sunk quite low in it. Because nothing really bad would be happening in the dream, and everything would be going pretty okay and rather normal. Except that there would be one thing, one missing thing. And maybe the dreamer wouldn't ever realize it was missing until they allowed themselves to question why it felt so empty--why it wasn't a good dream, or even a nightmare. And even something joyous perceived in that dream world would feel not worth celebrating all out for—because life wasn't allowed to be perfect with that piece absent from the picture.
Hermione was considering this, and falsely trying to figure out when her life became like this. It was silly of her really, to even pretend to think about it, because she knew. It was Ron, of course. What else, really, could it be? Her job, Jane, and her friends were all wonderful. Yes, her life had sunk from the place of fulfillment seven years ago.
FlaShBaCk
Dear Ron, Hermione's hand shook almost violently as she wrote. She stared at the greeting and decided to start over. Ron— I am writing to tell you that I think it would be best if we ended everything. I filed for a divorce yesterday, the papers should reach you about the same time you receive this. I'm sor Hermione scratched out determinedly the last word and continued. not planning on seeing you anymore. Goodbye Ron. --Hermione
She gave the letter to Pig, whom her nearly ex husband had left with her. The owl seemed somewhat agitated, but Hermione, who had lost her determined look and was now bawling her eyes out, had no patience and simply opened the kitchen window and directed the owl to the sky with her index finger.
A small, four year old Jane walked tentatively into the room. "Mummy, are you missing daddy again?" she asked, seeing her mother's puffy face.
"Not anymore," she managed to reply.
PrEsEnT
Hermione was becoming dangerously close to writing a note to self about remembering to never bring up those feelings again. She had been very good, save for perhaps his birthday and their wedding anniversary, about not feeling depressed over him. Perhaps it was because Jane seemed to be interrogating and giving her grief over their break up more than usual. It wasn't as if she had cut it off to make Jane's life harder on purpose. It wasn't as if he really wanted to be married to her anyways.
Jane was now listening intently. After all, she had been anticipating this talk for a long time.
"I don't know if you remember this...well, I mean, you know how I used to be an Auror, right? Like before I took up the Cannons. I actually was paired up with Uncle Harry. Yes, well anyway, we...er, we had to take up a mission. It was far away—"
"That was when you left," Jane interrupted, practically sitting on the edge of her seat
"Er—yeah, so you remember then. Well, anyway, I uh...I had to go because it was, well it was really important. And then your mom sent me a letter a few months later saying it was over."
"Why?"
"Why?" Ron asked, as if he was coming out of a trance.
"Yeah, like why did she want to get a divorce? Did you do something wrong?"
"Yeah, well....um, she didn't really want me going. Like we sort of fought about it before I left...kind of complicated."
"Dad, you said it was simple."
"Well it was...we fought, I left on the job, and then she just broke up with me...I came back of course, I mean obviously, you remember me coming back, don't you?"
"Yeah. I mean, I remember you popping your head in the fireplace from like Uncle Harry's or something and mum telling me to go to my room, and then," she continued a little more softly, "then I just heard you yelling at each other."
"Yeah, I was just coming by to tell her I wanted to talk in person—full person—about the whole thing, and yeah...er... it didn't really work out. And she was getting all pissed at me, so I left. And she never...."
"let you back again," Jane finished. "But why didn't she want you going? How come you didn't just stay if it was so important to her? Why did she mind so much? It's not like you were leaving forever, right?"
Ron sighed. He was beginning to feel a little queasy. "I don't know...really. Jane, honey...it's just over, okay? We can't really change anything now, and it's fine....sometimes, relationships just weren't made to work out—they don't always last."
The girl's insides were squirming. Weren't made to work out? How many times had her aunts and uncles described the way her parents used to look at each other? Jane knew she just couldn't stand by and not do anything. She could get them back together. She knew she could.
For the exciting story with juicy secrets she had been waiting for really wasn't very satisfying at all. How could her parents accept that little Auror mission thing as an excuse for severing their marriage? Jane decided that if she was going to play this whole detective witch thing correctly, she would need to talk to her mum.
"So...er, Jane? You wanna go home and play chess or something? I can help you with how you use your knight like you asked, if you want."
"Oh...yeah, sure. Let's go, dad."
The rest of the afternoon passed with strictly innocent, non- controversial issues between the two of them. Jane and Ron were still having a great time together—the time spent was merely a little more awkward and reserved. By the time Jane's quidditch practice rolled around, Ron was still work-free, and so he attended her practice, sitting in the back of one of the stands.
Jane's practice was at one of the fields Fred, Angelina, George, Katie, Lee, and Alicia had set up. The six of them had organized a charity once Weasley's Wizard Wheezes had started going really well, that set aside land for quidditch pitches for teams that otherwise couldn't have existed. They had a kids' league going, one that they knew themselves and others would have loved to have as children to prepare for the Hogwarts school teams. Ron knew Hermione probably wouldn't have let Jane play if it weren't for the fact that a bunch of her old school friends had started the program.
As usual, Ron thoroughly enjoyed watching Jane play—not just because she was a superb flyer, but also because of the way she interacted with her friends. She gave of the impression of being in complete control with them, yet she could laugh so hard at one of their jokes that she'd find herself dangling from her broom by her ankles. And when the sun bounced off of her face, Ron could just make out a charming glint in her eye, that showed off her happiness and concentration on the game...but today, there was something else there too—determination.
When the coach blew the whistle, and all the kids touched back down to the ground, Ron got up slowly, stretching out his legs. Looking over his shoulder, he watched as a small car made its way into the small, mostly unused parking lot. The driver rolled down the window, and when Ron squinted, he saw that the person was a woman, a woman with seemingly bushy brown hair.
Finding it hard to tear his eyes away from that spot, Ron turned to step downward towards the field, nearly tripping over himself. Once he was back at ground level, his daughter came running up to him, saying, "Hey, dad! Thanks for watching! Well, um, I just saw mum in the parking lot, so I guess she wants to take me home now...thanks for the great day! I had a lot of...a lot of fun, thanks!"
"Oh, yeah, Jane, no problem...I had a good time, too. Just call me whenever we can get together again, k?"
"Yeah, sure thing, dad! Bye!" she called, running into the distance towards the parked car.
As Hermione was waiting in the car for Jane, she took her time observing the field and surrounding areas. She was glad, she decided, that Jane had something to occupy her time like this, a place where she could hang out with her friends and have fun. It sort of made Hermione jealous. As she was looking around, though, her eyes stopped when they came across the figure of a tall man. In the bright lights illuminating the field, she could distinguish his hair as being unmistakably red.
Jane waved at her mother as she walked in front of the car, opened the door, and climbed in. "Hey mum!" she said.
"Oh...hi, darling. Did you have a good practice? How was your day?"
"It was great, mum! Thanks for...you know, letting dad take me. We had a good time."