A Post Hogwarts Affair Chapter 8 (finally!)
After my talk with Ginny, I felt different, in an odd sort of way. She'd convinced me that I wasn't completely nutters when I said that I fancied a dolt and wanted to get rid of my husband. She'd also brought up another issue that I hadn't exactly allowed myself to think of.
Divorce.
Yikes. But hell, if my fantasies in some wild and weird way came true, I couldn't exactly have two husbands. Ginny had shown me two very clear options. "Hermione," she'd said, as if I was an idiot not to have thought of this before, "you can either stay and fancy him from afar, you know, married women get these feelings all the time, or, you divorce Ron and charge after Malfoy like a bull."
"Or an animal in heat," I'd replied rather scathingly (and Ginny had given me a scowl so fierce I thought she resembled Malfoy).
But now I had to make this choice. Either chase him or forget about him. Chase him! Now that was a laugh. A real laugh. Me, Hermione Granger, lowly little bushy (well, not so bushy anymore, but still frizzy) haired study loving self acclaimed nerd chasing a man? Ha! Not likely. And forgetting about him? When I saw his face in everything, including my silverware? Even less likely.
I had to invent my own choice. The sit-and-do-nothing choice. Forget Ginny's advice. She could have her parties and her money and her glitzy clothes and her blasted choices but I was going to sit on my arse and do absolutely nothing. Sounded great to me.
But I wanted him. A lot.
And I was afraid of divorcing Ron. What if he accidentally drank himself to death or something? And what if Mrs. Weasley excommunicated me from the family? I loved them so much; she'd practically adopted Harry and me, although in the beginning she did like Harry better (oh no! It was because she thought I was playing two boys at once! Gods, this was getting worse by the second!). I was so lost that the third, silly option that I had created was beginning to seem like the right choice. Sit and do nothing.
Or better yet, I smirked to myself as I found a solution that resulted in the same thing that sit and do nothing would result in, let Malfoy choose. There was no way in hell he'd fancy me; I'd given up on him because he was a fucking tease, sometimes doing this and sometimes doing that and just tearing me apart, the bastard, and this way I didn't exactly have to divorce Ron. I could live in my fantasies, because Draco would never choose me.
Draco? Since when had my brain registered Draco instead of Malfoy? Shit. This was a lot deeper than I thought it would go.
It was in this state of absolute frenzy that Ron found me when he came home two hours later. "Hermione," he said, giving me a rare smile. "What are you doing?"
"Oh," I said meekly, suddenly realizing that I was sitting at our coffee table just staring off in space quite randomly, "just…thinking."
"Thinking! I thought you'd stopped that after Hogwarts," he said, grinning. Why was he in such a good mood?
"Anything on your mind, Ron?" I asked, a bit befuddled.
"I expected you to be ready by now, Hermione," he whined. "I told you we were going out tonight."
Oh. Something I'd completely forgotten with everything that had happened--from Draco Malfoy suddenly being back in town (like he was ever out! Did he think he could fool me? Smartest witch in Hogwarts?) to the talk with Ginny to this whole deciding business. "Yes," I said dumbly. "Where are we going?"
He smiled mischievously. "It's a surprise. Now go get dressed."
I pattered to my bedroom, feeling a little odd at the situation. Throwing my closet open I suddenly realized that I didn't exactly own anything fancy. "Ron!" I called out. "Do you want me to wear robes or a dress?"
"The muggle clothing, okay?"
"I don't have any!" I called back frantically. "Well, I do but it's this really old dress that I haven't worn since I was seventeen. It's ugly as well."
"Just wear it, Hermione!"
Grumbling, I pulled out the fading teal green dress and surveyed it with distaste. It was particularly ugly; I grimaced at the thought of actually having to wear it (again). "Ron," I said nervously. "This thing doesn't seem to have a neckline."
It was true. The dress was a high-collared Chinese grandma kind of dress. I was not about to step out of the house wearing something so…blah.
"Can you just tell me where we're going?" I finally asked him in desperation. Maybe I could apparate to the nearest department store (oh, ha, like that would work…just apparate in front of twenty-three muggles) or transfigure this stupid thing into something a bit nicer.
He sighed. "Honestly, don't you like surprises?"
"Not at times like these. Just tell me already, Ron, or I'm going to have to hex you." I was pissed. The stupid dress was making me very upset and I wanted to tear it to shreds and throw it in the dustbin. But no, Ron had to go off on this "oh hurry up it's a surprise!" thing and I had to actually wear the rubbish.
He looked a bit taken aback. "Wow, there, Hermione," he said nervously. "I thought you might like a surprise. But if you must know, Parvati Patil is having a party for a lot of the Hogwarts crowd! Isn't that great! We'll get to meet up with old friends!"
No.
Not great.
The words were rushing in my head like an ocean wave and I wanted to shut the roar off but wait…Parvati Patil was having a party for the ex-Hogwarts crowd? What?
"How come I didn't hear about this?" I asked, my eyes narrowed.
He shrugged. "Dunno. You're always off in your own little world, aren't you?"
I was always off in my own little world? I was always off?
"I'm not the one in a pub nearly twenty-four hours a day!" I yelled, shoving the dress in his face and stomping out of the house.
"Where are you going?" I heard him holler behind me and contemplated not replying, but a little nagging conscience got in the way.
"To buy a nicer dress, Ron! And I don't care if I spent three thousand galleons on it but if we are going to go visit Hogwarts people then I am going to at least look half-way decent!"
My voice felt hoarse after screaming at him. I'm sure that I looked like a coffee-depraved lunatic running down the streets in the way that I did, but I was seriously enraged. And frustrated.
Ten minutes later I found myself in a popular but very expensive little boutique that many witches frequented, even though it was a muggle store that sold muggle dresses. Apparently the latest fashion is a dress, after all. The clerk smiled widely when she saw me. Maybe it was because I looked a bit crazy, and she thought she could make me buy a lot of stuff.
"Hello, Miss…?" she began. Even her voice sounded store-bought. High and lilting, almost like the pouring of a champagne glass.
"Hermione Granger," I replied, looking her straight in the eye. She backed off a little bit.
"Well, pleased to make your acquaintance, Miss Granger."
I smiled, relieved to hear the address I hadn't heard in three years. No more of this Granger-Weasley or Weasley business. Back to plain old Hermione Granger. The woman wouldn't know the difference if I told her I was unmarried. I could pretend all I wanted.
"Same to you," I replied cautiously.
"Now is there anything in particular that you are looking for?"
I told her that I wanted a nice evening cocktail dress and she smiled knowingly. "Fancy get-together?" she asked as she whisked out one dress after another. I nodded. "Oh, here's one that I think will be absolutely perfect on you!" she said after a few minutes.
The dress was rather pretty to look at. It was a cherry red ("beautiful with your complexion, my dear!") that shimmered slightly as it moved. The neck looked rather low but I agreed to try it on anyway. It was the sort of dress that draped your shoulders casually but gave off a striking appearance at the same time.
When I tried it on, however, I wasn't so sure. I had been right. The neckline was low, dangerously low. "I don't think," I began, turning to the sales lady.
"Darling! It looks absolutely stunning, doesn't it, dearie?"
I debated, throwing furtive looks at the looking glass and admiring myself every now and then. I did look good. Well, you could see a tad bit more cleavage than you normally found on my clothes, but it didn't look sleazy or anything. And the woman claimed I'd get used to baring this much. "Absolutely stunning," she repeated happily.
Only when I got to the counter to purchase the aforementioned thing from hell that made me look quite different did I realize why exactly she was so happy. It was the price tag on the dress that made it a worthwhile thing to wear, I suppose.
"That will be five hundred pounds, m'dear," she said, all bubbly like. I nodded faintly but fished out the British currency that I carried around out of habit, even though most of the time I was dealing with knuts and such (Galleons were out of the question. Ron got those. And his parents.). Luckily I barely managed to have enough. Dropping the coins on the counter with as much confidence that Ginny had displayed the other day (or so I hoped) I smiled at the woman as she rang up the dress and commandeered my money with surprising grace.
Just as I was about to depart from the store, she called out behind me. "Miss Granger," she said, and I turned around, surprised. "With such a lovely dress," she told me, "I think you should visit a hair and make-up stylist as well, don't you think, if you want to look spectacular tonight?"
Hair and make-up?
Something I hadn't exactly thought of. But she was right. If I just wore the dress it would look like oh-Hermione-got-frustrated-and-splurged, but if I came in with a stunning hairstyle (something I hadn't exactly displayed since the Yule Ball and my wedding) and exquisite make-up then everyone would talk about me. Something I really wanted for tonight. I couldn't really explain why.
I smiled and thanked her and exited the boutique quickly, a bit annoyed that I had to make yet another decision. I wanted to just use the potion that I usually used to make my hair sleek and shiny but that thing took at least an hour and a half to brew, and as I checked my watch, I realized there was definitely not enough time to first brew the damn thing and then actually apply it in my hair. No. I'd have to do it the muggle…well, I was going to go to a witch salon. I'd seen an ad for one in Working Witch and knew it was located somewhere near here.
After about twenty minutes of searching I finally stumbled upon the salon. I walked up to it, hoping they took walk-ins and hoping they wouldn't straighten my hair, simply because I thought that might look a little fake and I wanted to give off the impression that I could look absolutely ravishing all the time. A witch greeted me as I walked in. Her hair was arranged in a marvelous updo and I had to appreciate the work of this salon.
"How may we help you?" she asked upon my arrival.
"Er…" I began, a little unnerved. After all I didn't do this sort of thing everyday. "I need to style my hair for a nice party I'm attending tonight."
"Alright. Any particular style you want or shall we do what we think is best?"
"Um…you do…what you think is best. But please don't…straighten it."
"Wouldn't dream of it," she said, cracking a smile to reveal yellowing teeth. Unconsciously I ran my tongue over my own teeth, hoping they were white and clean.
She sat me down in one of the large chairs and handed me a magazine. I flipped through it without really reading the words. I was, to say in the least, quite anxious as to what they were doing with my hair. Thirty minutes later (I suppose wizards speed up the time) I found out exactly what they had done with my hair. My first thought was "oh no". My hair was in an up-sweep, with little tendrils curling around my face. I hadn't realized it but they had layered my face with make-up, so my lips sparkled a deep red and my eyes glittered smoky through dark eyeliner and a smoky silver eye shadow. Uh-oh.
"Eh," I said weakly, trying to adjust myself to the image. It's just for one night, I reminded myself. Just one night. Tomorrow you can go back to bushy haired and boring brown eyes.
I paid for the startling image change and left rather quickly, wondering what Ron would say when I got home. How would he react? I nearly giggled, something that I don't allow myself to do, as I thought of the reaction that he would have.
When I got home, I could see that Ron was frantic about my disappearance. "I'm home, Ron," I called to him, feeling a bit snarky about it. It was a very un-Hermione thing to do, after all.
"Hermione!" he gushed when I got home. And then he stared at me. And stared some more. Just when I was worried that he might faint, or worse, laugh, he smiled slowly. I could tell it was a bit of a strained smile but it was a smile, all the same.
"You look…different," he said, stuttering.
I smiled, still feeling rather daring. "Yes. Are you ready to go to her party, then?"
"Er….yeah. We'll just Floo then?"
"Sounds good to me," I said, clearly avoiding my appearance. Obviously he wasn't really in a hurry to talk about it either. "So, is Parvati married now? And is she inviting just our year?"
"Um, no, I think she's single but engaged…and no, she's not inviting just our year. She's inviting all of her friends and acquaintances. It's a rather huge party, I think."
I smiled sneakily. All the better to surprise you lot with, my dears.
A/N: Well, it turned out a bit different than I 'd expected. Sorry about the long delay. Just a few notes: LMTran- I love your long reviews. I hope this chapter was eventful enough for you; next chapter will be even more eventful. Gingitsune Girl- Ron goes to the boozer whenever he feels like it.
Please review! I'd really appreciate that.