Champagne High

She shooed the woman away. "I'll be fine" she repeated above the woman's protests as she locked the bathroom door. "Just hold the line." She whispered with her back slumped against the door frame.

It was the only bathroom, for women that is, but they didn't really need to look at themselves in the mirror 10 times a minute, 'besides' she thought 'it's my party, I can do what I want.'.

She stumbled forwards and, leaning on the sink counter, made her way to the mirror.

Her eyes lay fuzzily taking in the image in front of her.

When had she become so old?

When had youth left her and stamped it's goodbye as wrinkles in the corner of her eyes?

When had she accepted it all and let life just lead her on?

She only existed, she had let go the reigns of her own life and now it had dashed it's years uneventfully when her soul lay like an untouched pearl inside a shell.

She was just empty.

Inside her own eyes she could see nothing, did she not feel anymore?

Her shacking hand travelled up to touch the mirror. She caressed her reflection longfully.

What had time done to her?

She abandoned her body on a comfortable low stool.

Where was her old spirited self? Where had it gone, and why did it leave her?

She was just a spectre, not a person, just a shadow as she went through those years, doing nothing to change her sorrow, quenching no immediate or long-time 'thirsts'.

She sighed as she remembered an old saying her mother would always repeat.

"Don't fear death, but the unlived life"She said to herself in a slurry whispered that echoed clearly in her head.

She looked up at the bright bathroom lights and squinted drawing a hand to her thumping head.

What were those things that had once carried her feet and moved her life?

What was it that once carried through her veins and made her heart beat?

When had she given up her dreams, and why?

Where were all those people from her past? They all passed down as ghosts inside her head. Ghosts she had once known so well and loved so much. People she had once held so close and treasured highly.

Had their friendship dissipated? Or did it just lay numb in some forgotten part of her heart?

Hermione had the quick instinct of whispering a silencing charm just before she fell to the floor crying loudly.

Longing for something she didn't exactly know. As if a piece of her had been torn away and she could still feel it.

Memories crowded her head with too many colours and too many sounds.

She grasped her head in her hands, massaging her scalp for dear life and holding her eyes forcefully closed.

It all hurt so much.

She could see Lavender, her once best friend, clearly, her 17 years of age still in her girl like features as she handed Hermione the lovely silk blouse.

"Have it, I mean it." Her voice insisted as she smiled brightly.

Hermione couldn't remember ever having felt anything so soft, and it mus have been expensive too. It had been the most beautifull thing she'd ever seen.

"Oh, but I can't Lav', it's too beautiful." She remembered answering.

"First thing, " her friend had answered " as soon as it's on your body you will over-shine it, you are beautiful Hermione, look." She had turned her to face their dorm mirror.

She could see her young face and her smasll teen-age body. Lavender stood next to her and whispered close to her face "and second, this is special Hermione, and you know it."

The girl's smile opened wide and Hermione watched as her former self did the same.

Why couldn't she smile at it now?

She suddenly remembered what this was.

This had been the night Ron had proposed to her. They were graduating in three weeks and Ron took her to hogsmeade where Harry and Ginny had set up a romantic dinner in the shrieking shack.

She remembered the candles and the wine fondly. She had walked in the room, her jaw-dropped.

They had been dating for almost two years and Hermione remembered having thought that dinner had been the most romantic thing he'd ever done, that anyone had ever done for her.

She laughed at herself now, how could she have known? She had been with him since her fifteen years , she hadn't exactly given anyone else the chance now had she?

She scolded herself for having remembered her thoughts of such thing, her evil mind would definetly use it against her. Torturing her endlessly, bringing inside her head the muffled moans and the heavy pants inside the closed broom closet.

She could even now feel his hand touch her skin so desperate and sweet at the same time. Only he could be urgent andf gentle all in one.

She now came to curse at the day dreams of him had stopped tormenting her sleepsless nights as she lay beside Ron. The day her passion had wilted and died inside of her. She remembered the nights she would transform ron's touches into his caressesses.

When had come the day she had stopped fretting over why she had agreed to marrying ron and just gone along with what was more comfortable?

That wasn't her, Hermione Granger would go out of her way to make small things right, why should she, out of all witches, marry just because 'yes' was the eaqsiest answer?

She remembered looking into Ron's eyes in the altar and waiting for the butterflies that were supossed to fluttere about in the pit of her stomach, and she remembered searching for the happy twinkle in his eyes only she was supposed to see, but none of it had ever come. She had stood there simply staring into his face as the cerimonyproceded.

She stuttered as she said the words and realçised, even then, they were killing here inside, they were the death of her, of her true self and all her reams , aspirations and ambitions.

But she had said them none the less and numbly taken the ring and until today , stuck to her vows and kept her matrimonial promises and duties.

"I wasn't looking for a lifetime with you
And I never thought it would hurt just to hear
"I do" and "I do"
And I do a number on myself
And all that I thought to be
And you'll be the one
That just left me undone
By my own, hesitation"

She had, herself, killed that soul inside of her.

She was now crying full force.

Why had she said yes?

Oh, the wine and well, that was all Ron had ever wanted. That was his life. How could she deny him that?

"Well" she scoffed at herself "you should have, it was you or him and he would get over it, with someone half your age."

She hated this ironic side of her. She sounded like an old hag. Was she?

Is that what she had become? A woman who could only sit down drunkenly and complain about the life she hadn't lived and then do nothing to change it?

Talk about a broken home, a cheating husband and then continue as if nothing had happened.

Was she just supposed to go on with it?

No, she knew she couldn't do that to herself. She couldn't betray herself again.

She imagined how it would be to walk out on all of this.

How could she look into Ron's eyes and say it?

She had loved him once, was all of it gone?

She knew the answer to that.

She knew the answer to all her questions.

"And for the million hours that we were
well I'll smile and remember it all
then I'll turn and go
while your story's completed mine is a long way from done."

Her heart wished for the strength to just leave and take her life back.

But as she looked in the mirror, she couldn't help but think it was too late for her. Things had changed. She wasn't seventeen anymore, those things had passed. Doors had opened and closed back up already. Her friends weren't the same anymore, they weren't there anymore.

Hogwarts was just full of strangers and memories but nothing real. Nothing was there anymore. Desolate, she cried even harder telling herself she couldn't turn back time, and that she was just being childish, she was just fine with ron and it was too late to go around changing.

But somehow, something inside her spoke out saying it wanted more than 'just fine'.

'oh, what a trip' that had answered back inside of her.

"Well I'm on a champagne high
Where will I be when I stop wondering why
On a champagne high
I'd toast to the future but that'd be a lie
On a champagne high, high"

She could just see Ron outside. Dancing and drinking and toasting incessantly to their 20 years of marriage.

He had thrown them a party, she knew, for the sole purpose of cheering her up. She had been undeniably quiet as of late, depressed almost.

Why?

This whole sadness taking over her was something new. It wasn't there 10 years ago, why now?

When had living with Ron turned to 'agreeable', and when had it changed to 'bearable'?

Could it be that agreeable was when she cared for him and he loved her, and was bearable when she didn't mind him and he cared for her?

She knew her thoughts were on the right track, and it hurt her to think they were both unhappy, or at least not fully happy and satisfied.

When had it turned to bearable?

Was it when..Was it when thay moved maybe? Why had she agrred to that!

She had left her job, her friends, her family for his promotion.

Everything inside her was nulled. She ceased to exist in her own form, all she had was gone. She was nothing but his wife.

Indignified, she spat out

"Me, Hermione-fucking-Granger, 'the most brilliant witch in her century', the girl who was going to change the world, a house wife!"

"Spring turned to summer
But then winter turned to mean
The distance seemed right
At the time it was best - to leave
And to leave behind
What I once thought was fine And so real - to me
And while I'm still gone
On the quest for my song
I'm at your – celebration"

She had said those words with disdain and continued after the slight pause.

"and why?1" she asked the walls, and mirrors, everything around her "for him to get sick of me and cheat on me with his tight-ass secretary, is that the kind of marriage I'm in! Oh, this is just so typical, why do I stand it anyways?

Just tell me why and I'll shut up!" She pleaded the room around her.

"Tight-ass huh?" came a voice from inside a toilet booth. "thankyou" Hermione stared as Ron's 'plaything' stepped out of the booth and moved to wash her hands.

'shit…' she thought to herself, but somehow she didn't really care.

The younger witch sat next to her and looked in her eyes.

"I don't know why Mrs. Weasely. I really don't know why. A woman should stand in her own feet, especially a woman like you"

Hermione instantly warmed up to the girl, she liked her. For some odd reason, the girl was being the best friend she could have right now.

"Your wagons been hitched to a star
Well now he'll be your thing that's new
Yeah what little I have you can borrow
'Cause I'm old and I'm blue..."

"I don't know why either" Hermione said looking at the younger witch's reflection in the mirror. She had green eyes and curly dirty-blond hair. Quite pretty actually, and a nice smile.

She did hope this woman would make Ron happy as she herself couldn't.

Standing up to leave she looked Hermione in the eye before saying

"Its never too late you know, especially for someone like you." She winked, she smiled and she left.

Hermione was taken aback. She looked at herself in the mirror and once again it was as if Lavender was right behind her, giving her the courage she lacked, telling her she was pretty

She smiled at herself.

She would find Lav' again, and Parvati, and Padma too.

"And for the million hours that we were
well I'll smile and remember it all
then I'll turn and go
while your story's completed mine is a long way from done."

She would find everyone again.

She would go back to London immediately, or as soon as her hangover headaches passed. She really hated the U.S mainly because of her own conditionbut in any case, she had nothing to 'leave behind' as she left.

Not even friends.

After 10 years, no one, she ould call a real friend. No one who would even stand by her side once she was no longer Mrs. Weasley.

"Well I'm on a champagne high (so high)
Where will I be when I stop wondering why
On a champagne high (so high)
Toast to the future but that'd be a lie
On a champagne high
Where will I be when I stop wondering why
On a champagne high... high...
So high so high you left me undone
so high, so high you left me undone..."

Once again she remembered the passion burning inside of her. The passion of the broom closet. Of his touch. Of his sparkling grey eyes, filled with malice, and lust and a teasing playfulness. The danger of it.

She could moan from just remembering the feel of her hands through his platinum blond hair.

A time when he was hers, and she was his with the intensity of a volcano, of a tornado, of an earth-shattering quake.

His power, his muscles, where was he now?

Back in England someone could surely tell Hermione where he was, and she was sure, he could have never have forgotten.

Not those nights, no one could forget these things. That was more than emotion, it was feeling, it was true, and, she fearfully noticed, it was still inside of her.

Something told Hermione Granger that night it was still inside of him too, and that thought is what moved her feet that night and made her mouth say all it wanted.

And that's what now carried her on a plane to England.

(no, she could not apparate over seas, these were dangerous times)

Well, finally finished typing this up, so, what do u think..

Lol

Love

Lara (looking at the review button)