Author's Note:
HEY, I'm back again and hope to repeat this stunt every week. Let's finish this fic!
Anyway, hurried update here! And I'll reply to all the signed replied through ff, while the unsigned ones would be answered here. (Just saving some time, here).
Important Note: Ali Zafar is a real person, and I just made fun of him, nothing else. Good fun! To see his picture and read my rant about RHr ship, follow the link provided in my ff Profile to my Live Journal.
To my readers, SpikesDreamer, Kara, Milee, cutehelenjames, Cassy, Kristi, Joy, Omair, Autumnrosey, and many more who simply read but not review (really guys, I would love to hear from YOU!): thanks for reading the fic and enjoying it! This one is quite close to my heart.
Milee & Cassy, Thank You for dropping by! I'll keep you two entertained. :)
Joy, Yup, this was Pre-HBP but I've tried to keep it updated to HBP though. Here's another update to quell that tension. ;)
Omair, Oh yes, I'm at it again. You know I couldn't have stayed away. You know most of this chapter, excluding the Ali Zafar thing. You can't say to me anymore, "Ali Zafar kitna cute hai na!" :P
So, here's another update. Hope you enjoy it!
- Chapter 6 – Backtrack -
Hermione sighed audibly as she went through a folder of lists. Who would have thought that being organized would have its price? Now she had to go through heaps of lists just to find her favorite scarf! And for what? A stupid formal get-together organized by none other than her boss, Tommy, which she has to attend.
"Hermione, you just have to come!" Tommy had said, his extra-friendly smile sliding in place.
"Tommy, I really have to work more on Amon Ra, I can't waste my time in sashaying around dolls' clothes." Hermione had put up her best pleading voice, but to no avail.
"Dearie, these are the people who make Cairo special! All the important officials—not only the rich and famous, but many Ministers and Ministry representatives would be there, love. How can it be possible that the bright gems of Magical Research are left behind?"
The bright eyes of Tommy had searched her face openly, trying to pin-point the reason of her bleakness. "At any rate, Liz would be there to give you company." As if contemplating, he continued on, "I'd just like to remind you, love … what you really need is a partner to get off this heavy workload, or you might work yourself to death."
"Bright ray of sunshine you are, Tommy." Hermione rolled her eyes. "I don't need anybody!" she had said fiercely, only to hear Tommy whistle.
"Don't get me wrong, Hermione. I admire your thorough work—an asset to Magical Research, no doubt about it, but I'd rather see you slack a little rather than working eighteen hours a day, love."
She had only nodded sullenly and agreed to appear in yet another rich and famous bonanza of Cairo.
"That's my girl! You know, there's no pressure, really, but as they say you just have to attend such gatherings. How else the wizarding community would recognize the great explorers of the future?" As if that explained it all, he had then gone out of her tent at the dig, leaving Hermione puffing with indignation.
Explorers of the future, my foot! Honestly, who gave a bat boogey about a bunch of researchers, who only organized and provided the important information about expeditions—where to step, what to hex, where to look for artifacts and similar knick-knacks—to the curse-breakers and rich ring-leaders who commissioned the digs. Even after providing the most crucial pieces of the puzzle, unfortunately Researchers didn't get much credit.
Hermione had seriously thought of skiving off the whole event by feigning a broken leg or arm by falling down some stairs. But, any Healer would have succeeded in healing such a minor injury in an hour. So, she accepted the fact; who could argue with The Boss, anyway?
Hermione looked at the three carton boxes ruefully, that she had shipped out of her house when she had moved out of London—containing most of her old things and memorabilia of friends, family and good times. Moreover, due to time constraints then and work-load later on, didn't give her time to inventory the third and the last carton.
After going through the lists of the first and second carton, she finally flopped down on the floor beside the third carton—tucking her left leg under herself, while propped the right leg beside it for a comfortable position—and lifted the protective charms that she had cast on it.
A cloud of dust distended upon her, which she instantly cleaned by a well placed "Scourgify." She flitted through the contents: old notes, quills, albums, books, mufflers, scarves and—
Her hand touched a smooth leathery surface. She bit her lower lip realizing the item's identity. Hermione knew what it was before she even looked at it; she knew it from touch as she had poured many of her dark secrets in that old diary.
She took out the navy-blue journal that had almost turned black with time. She had purchased it in her sixth-year from Flourish and Botts.
When she flipped the diary to open it, it didn't open except giving her the feel as if she was grasping a heavy brick. In a few seconds she remembered that she had performed some nifty security jinxes to protect it from prying eyes. She swished and flicked her wand in different sized pentagons, and finally took off the last protective spell, whispering the password, "Twelve O.W.Ls."
The diary snapped open and the pages fluttered noisily as a gust of wind from the window played with it. Her past beckoned her towards it with the mesmerizing sound of its rustling.
And with it she went to the Graduation Ball, which she had planned not to attend but did, due to the surprise visit of Victor Krum. It was the day, when Victor became more than a sweet friend.
Hermione still remembered the look on Ron's face when she had entered the decorated Great Hall escorted by Victor Krum, all dressed up in her sky-blue chiffon dress. There was pain and hurt in Ron's eyes that had temporarily unsettled her. Their eyes had locked together and it was as if nobody had been present in the Great Hall except them. She wanted to run into his arms and forget everything, seeing Ron's expression change to a longing hunger… but unfortunately, the magical moment passed when Lavender Brown came between them and their eye-contact broke.
Hermione had been momentarily shaken by the confusion of vibes. Why Ron had looked at her that way when he had asked Lavender out to the Ball? She didn't know the answer to that question, still and had branded that look to be the wild imagination of her desperate heart.
Ron had danced with Lavender and she with Victor. They had even shared glances on the dance floor but whatever had been between them, were left unsaid that night. It was then; she had decided to never ask him or even discuss his love-life, and expected vice versa, which she got unasked. It seemed as if a gash ran through their relationship that night. They were never the same again.
She had drunk two glasses of fire-whiskey, which were enough for her to haze the world, and had taken a broomstick ride to the hotel with Victor, where he was staying. Surprisingly, Victor hadn't taken advantage of her tipsiness but had bailed her out of her long stupor and heartache for which she was still grateful. He had confessed his feelings the next morning and she had accepted it to be her new beginning. They had gone steady for the next two years but nothing really came out of their long-distance relationship.
Even when she had a lot of things common with him, like passion for books, long discussions, minute details of things, still the spark was almost nonexistent. They never did crazy things together, never went out to the beach on a cold night… and they neverquarreled. Even if Hermione got mad about something, Victor was ever-understanding and always apologized, even when it wasn't his fault. At first this quality was endearing but it lost its luster after a while. Their relationship became too accommodating and too bland… there was no fire, no passion, not even a flicker.
Maybe things would have been different, if Victor had not always been on tours around the world. Maybe he did love her in his own way but she just didn't, as she later found out. He was a friend, who she thought could help her forget the past pains and start anew.
And now when she looked back at their relationship, she could positively see that it was the relationship of need rather than love or compatibility on her part. She might have thought otherwise then, but now she could see almost as clearly as daylight that she only cared about him, nothing more.
This was the realization that had finally caused the demise of her relationship with him and she finally had the guts to face her friends and family, to tell them that she was leaving London—for good. Obviously, she didn't exactly say that but she still had the profound suspicion that Harry and Ginny had understood more than her other said best friend, Ronald Weasley.
She had been so angry with him, that it literally hurt. Through their Auror Training and first year of field work, she had been constantly battling her well-hidden emotions. But, as it is said, you can't play with fire as it would sooner or later burn you; she finally gave up and ran away from her treacherous fate and willed herself to carve a new life for herself, away from her past.
Hermione flipped to the last entry of her diary and read on, feeling a constricting sorrow building in her heart.
Dear Diary,
This is the last time that I will write to you. I'm leaving London… for good. I'm doing this to start a new life—away from all the dependencies.
Even when it pains me to leave my parents and loving friends, I have no other choice to flee from my imminent fate. Seeing something that I could have had… everyday… is nothing but heart-wrenching… I know it in my heart that if I stay, I will break and there would be so many pieces left behind that nobody would be able to collect it...
I'm a fighter but this time I have become too tired of fighting. I want to find some peace of mind, even if that means completely submerging in work.
I would miss everyone here, I know. Mum, Dad, Harry, Ginny, the whole Weasley clan… and even Ron, who I dread, I would miss the most...
Love (for all the times you were there to share my ups and downs),
Undersigned, Hermione Granger.
-x-
How do I get myself into such messes? Hermione asked herself for the umpteenth time, while riding in the back of a battered old taxi, puffing in indignation.
Mr. Wonderful a.k.a. Alexander Graham's ancient car had backfired the moment she and Liz were in different stages of getting into the old dingy. The poor car hadn't been able to accommodate them because of its sudden illness; therefore, a mortified Alex had to run and find a taxi. It was another matter altogether that finding an empty taxi on a Saturday night in Cairo was like finding a needle in the haystack.
She wanted to murder Liz and even glared at her non-stop but Liz was too star-eyed and engrossed in mumbling about how dashing Alex looked that she didn't even batted an eyelash at Hermione's chagrin. So, they were horribly late when they finally arrived at the Unicorn Palace, a central resort for the rich and famous of the wizarding community at Cairo.
Tommy was waiting for them in the foyer, like a father whose daughters were running late from dates with peculiar-looking boys. He even chastised both of them in the same manner.
"Where were you two? I've been worried sick!" Tommy glared at them, while Alex fidgeted with his bow-tie to let some steam of embarrassment out.
"Conveyance problem—"
"Never mind, just start mingling with the V.I.P. guests already!" Tommy fired away, cutting Hermione in between.
"On the case, boss!" Liz gave him a salute and tugged Hermione and Alex along, out of Tommy's glare.
"Phew!" Liz wiped her brow. "That was close."
And before Hermione could add her comment and some choice words on why were they in such a predicament, she was distracted by someone calling her name.
"Hermione? Hermione Granger?"
"Oooh, who is that hunk?" Liz said animatedly, as she peered over Hermione, who turned around and saw a flash of gold and a perfect row of teeth smiling down at her.
There stood one of the best looking alpha-males of Cairo. But, that was Cairo's notion, which Hermione didn't agree with. Okay, so he was handsome with sharp features honed by cosmetic applied to his face; he had a catchy voice, all right; but he could have the worst personality, yet get away with it.
"Er… Hi," Hermione mumbled, wondering how exactly Ali Zafar knew her. He was the Pop sensation of Cairo and girls swooned at him with screechy giggles. To him, Hermione thought, she was a scruffy non-entity as compared to the many dolled-up girls in the party. Why was he wasting his time—?
She turned towards Liz in a flash, who was whispering to Alex quite knowingly. Hermione knew it then that it was all a fix-up, courtesy of her roommate. She must have scrounged the long list of her contacts to pull this one off.
"You're looking very pretty tonight," Ali offered silkily, completely distracting Hermione from her exasperation over Liz.
"Uh… Thank you…." Hermione didn't know what to say, as Ali stole a glass of wine from a prancing waiter and gave it to her.
He took her hand and kissed it quite soundly. "Drink for the lady," he offered.
Hermione tore her eyes away from Ali, an uncertainty growing on her, which was further fueled by a deserting Liz, who had mingled on with the crowd along with Alex.
Liz, you're so going to regret this!
"You know, I always loved a girl with brains. A real turn-on for me," Ali whispered in her ear, coming way too close.
Hermione managed some distance between as she smiled hesitantly at him. She didn't know how to get out of this mess without offending Liz's friend, who must have set all this up.
"It's been really nice of you to escort me," Hermione said half-heartedly, taking a sip of champagne.
"Oh, it's my pleasure! Junaid's such a close friend." Ali winked at her. "His lavish gifts are the talk of parties. He's quite generous." His eyes glowed with the shine of expensive gold that he was wearing around his neck and fingers.
Hermione was quite surprised to get that information. She had been angry at Liz without any reason; it was all Junaid's doing. But, why? She couldn't understand. She wasn't responsible for anything extraordinary; she had only gone to see him because Tommy asked her to...
"That's a surprise all right," Hermione muttered, more to herself.
"You didn't know about our date, then?" It was Ali's turn to be stunned. "Junaid's a shocker all right!" He shook his head playfully. "No wonder you seemed dazed. Don't worry though; it's usually the same with most girls. I guess I have that kind of effect on people." He grinned knowingly, while Hermione didn't know whether to laugh or cry.
Stupid… idiotic… PRAT! I'm not EVERY girl!
After three hours, Ali Zafar was still at it with his tales of fame and fandom. "You know, once I got this letter from a girl who had written it with blood, which is not so extraordinary as I get that many times"—Hermione rolled her eyes and sipped some more champagne, utterly bored—"but later I found out that she killed her seven-year-old pet rat for that blood. Quite shocking, isn't it?!" Ali batted his eyes and shook his head dramatically.
Hermione wanted to die right there and then. She could enjoy Malfoy's taunts rather than this any day, which was saying something. Moreover, the jealous back-biting of fangirls and flashing cameras around her were really getting on her nerves. Her patience finally broke with a pack of swooning girls, who swooped on Ali, literally purring. The ever-ready Prince of Pop with all his suaveness charmed the circling ladies with his smiles and pouts. Photographers couldn't contain themselves as they, too, swarmed for a closer click.
Hermione didn't waste another second and took off for the opposing corner of the Unicorn Palace. Hermione took some time to take in her surroundings in the hopes of finding her wandering friend, Liz. She passed the domed hall glittering with the combination of high chandeliers and flame torches, while the mood set by classical music played by the live band almost overtook her.
She finally spotted Liz, wrapped tightly around Alex in quiet corner. They were kissing, carefree and oblivious of others. Hermione turned away quickly; however, this time she couldn't ignore another couple slow-dancing on the parquet floor.
I better get home, I'm so tired… She made for the front gate, as many people flashed by without even her noticing. In a few swirls of her dress, dashes of few strapped, strapless and suited shoulders, she was out of the hotel, looking for a taxi.
"Ana waddi taxi?"–Can I call you a taxi?
"Huh?" Hermione looked at the turbaned local strangely, noticing him for the first time.
"Mam, would you like me to call you a taxi?" the turbaned gatekeeper asked politely.
I understood the first time, Hermione thought warily, as she nodded at the guard.
Unicorn's transportation seemed up to the mark, as a taxi stopped right beside her in a few seconds. Hermione tipped the guard and got in, giving the driver her flat's address.
The taxi zipped by the many hotels and pubs around downtown, while she settled in the backseat.
Hermione couldn't hide it from herself anymore: she was more than missing her friends. She felt alone, and even when this wasn't the first time, something was different still. She longed for a relationship, which kept on nagging her like an unquenchable thirst, and she didn't know what to make of it.
You miss him, don't you? an inner voice prompted her, while she clutched her purse more tightly.
"Oh, Merlin, maybe I do!" she whispered in a cloud of cold smoke that swirled out of her mouth and misted up the glass.
Suddenly, the past years crashed all around her as the taxi ducked and zigzagged over the many potholes on the roads. Hermione bowed her head as two tears fell on her hand. What would she give to forget everything that was in her past and start anew? What would she give to go back in time and change everything? What would she do to bring back the days—
The driver coughed loudly, which made Hermione come back to her surroundings. The taxi had arrived at her flat and she didn't have a clue.
Embarrassed, Hermione quickly pulled out some Egyptian Pounds and told the driver to keep the change.
After unlocking the flat door and lifting some security jinxes and charms, Hermione silently made for her room. She went to her bedside table and reached for the framed photograph that was not on display, yet she still looked at it occasionally.
There they were, carefree and smiling, Harry, Ron and Hermione. It was taken after a Quidditch match between Slytherin and Gryffindor in their sixth-year at Hogwarts, which of course they had won. It was a classic depiction of their friendship, with the three of them smiling at Colin's camera. Harry was in the middle, his hands circling the necks of Hermione and Ron. The trio laughed together; while more than enough glances were shared between Ron and her.
"Oh, if only…." Hermione shook her head in dismay and closed her eyes, only to find the image of a smiling Ron flitting past.
Her eyes shot open, while she scolded herself, Hermione! Snap out of it!
A/N: Next Chapter would be on Ron. Let's see how much he grumbles about going to Egypt. And how Harry and Ginny cajole him. Not that, he doesn't want to go, mind! And don't forget to press that GO button:)