1Chapter 14: Rediscovery
Hermione left the common room in a daze. She roamed through the castle, unsure of where she should go. She passed the Library numbly, thinking of how once that would have been her haven, the quiet place where she could read and think. She had hardly gone in there this year, and only to study for a class. She no longer relaxed in the comforting silence and order of the Library, no longer sought such solitude. It was with some sadness that she realized just how much this year had changed her.
It was already they second semester. Classes would begin again the next day, and what would she be? The irritating know-it-all, anxious to display her knowledge, or the stranger punk-rocker who sang in seedy night-clubs? There were only two people who she could turn to for the help she needed.
Turning away from the Library Hermione marched confidently through the halls, pointed steadily towards the portrait of the fat lady and Gryffindor Tower.
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Harry and Ron lounged in the Gryffindor Common Room, absently playing a game of wizard's chess while trying, albeit not particularly hard, to study. The thought did not even cross their minds to seek Hermione's help with their homework; she barely even talked to them anymore. So it was that Harry and Ron were rather surprised when their old friend burst into the common room, looking close to tears.
"Hermione!" Harry jumped up from his seat, accidentally banging his leg against the table and sending the chess-pieces skittering across the floor. Normally Ron would have berated him for this carelessness with his, Ron's, prized possessions, but Ron was also too busy gaping at Hermione.
Hermione lost the battle she had been fighting within herself and burst into tears. She was quickly engulfed by the large arms of Harry, while Ron awkwardly tried to pat her back.
"Hermione, what's wrong?" Harry was full of concern. "Don't cry; I'm sure it'll be okay."
Hermione merely continued to cry. Held in the arms of her oldest friend all she could think about was how far apart the Golden Trio had drifted over the past few months. A friendship she had thought would last forever had been so easily shaken and a girl who had always known who she was had lost herself.
"I've ruined everything," Hermione mumbled into Harry's chest.
"No, that can't be true," Harry rubbed her back, gently kissing her forehead.
"But it is," Hermione sobbed. "It is, it is, it is…"
"Come on, Mione, tell us what's wrong," Ron said somewhat awkwardly. "Maybe we can help."
The sound of her old, slightly irritating, nickname brought more tears to choke in Hermione's throat. After a moment she could speak again.
"It's Jule," she started. "She's—she's—"
"What?" Ron demanded, a little too abruptly.
"She's in love with me!" Hermione burst out.
The boys looked at each other. They didn't know whether to laugh or not. The idea that Jule was in love with their friend was rather ridiculous and entertaining, but Hermione was clearly extremely distressed. Choosing his words carefully Harry formulated a question.
"And do you feel the same way about," he hesitated. "Her?"
"What?" Hermione seemed surprised. "Of course not, I have a boyfriend."
That shocked the boys. Harry, who was better at hiding his emotions than Ron, merely raised a confused eyebrow. Ron's jaw dropped and stayed open, every now and then quivering slightly.
"Since when?" Ron eventually demanded, recovering.
"Who?" Harry wanted to know.
"It's not important and it's really not any of your business," Hermione responded tartly, berating herself for betraying her secret. "The point is that everything is falling apart. I don't know what to do about Jule."
"Just let her know how you feel," Harry predicted sagely. "Don't lead her on. But let her down gently."
"That's what I did," Hermione sighed. "The real problem is that I don't know who I am anymore."
"You're you," Ron replied simply. "You're Hermione Granger. You're a smug know-it-all with one hand in the air and the other turning the pages of a book. You know everything and you love to show off how much you know. Sometimes you can be bossy and judgmental and superior, and sometimes you can be sweet and sensitive and understanding. You're our friend, our other half."
The tears were starting again, but Hermione blinked them away to smile at Ron. "There are three of us Ron; if anything I'm your other third."
"You know what I mean," Ron grinned, proud to have made Hermione smile through her tears. She pulled away from Harry to hug Ron, adoring his foolishly childlike manner and face.
"Maybe you were right, Harry," she murmured. "Maybe we can fix everything."
Since Hermione was already in the Gryffindor Common Room she decided that it was worth it to talk to Jule. She slowly made her way up the staircase leading to the girl's dorms, conscious of Harry and Ron's watching her supportively.
Never had the climb up those stairs seemed longer in Hermione's life, and she had climbed them hundreds of times. When at last she came to the seventh years' room, which had previously been her own room, she knocked cautiously. No one answered.
Hermione cautiously pushed the door open and it swung wide with a creak. But the room was empty.
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Hermione trudged slowly back to her own room. The visit with Harry and Ron had cheered her a bit, but she couldn't remember ever being this tired before. All she wanted was to sleep and never wake up…
Draco was in the common room, awake and staring into the fire. He had clearly been waiting for her.
"What?" Hermione demanded without preamble.
"I'm not going to tell her," Draco responded equally brusquely.
Hermione could feel the tears welling in her eyes again, but she blinked them back. She couldn't let Draco see her cry. "That's your decision," she managed to choke out before hurrying into her room and locking the door. Carefully casting a silencing charm, Hermione threw herself onto her bed and sobbed.
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Draco wondered vaguely what was wrong with Granger. He was the one who had cheated on his girlfriend and was now forced to lie about it. As far as he knew Granger didn't have a boyfriend, and she clearly wasn't a lesbian with the new girl after what had happened on Christmas Eve. Maybe she had hoped that he would leave May for her. That was ridiculous of course. Now that Draco and Hermione had set aside their difference he was willing to admit that she wasn't ugly and there were certain attractive things about her personality. But he loved May and nothing would make him leave her.
Granger would just have to work out her own problems. Draco was busy with his own.
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Hermione knew what was coming. She knew that Draco would lie to her and she knew that she couldn't be with him anymore. It wasn't so much that he had cheated on her; after all he had cheated on her with herself. It was that he would cover it up.
Sleeping with Hermione, or May, under an assumed identity was one thing. It was only natural that they would be drawn towards one another, no matter what Hermione said her name was or how she dressed. But the fact that he would lie about it meant that it wasn't just that she was both May and Hermione and thus cheating on May with Hermione was forgivable. Lying about it meant that Draco would be naturally inclined to cheat with anyone, and that was unacceptable.
Hermione steeled herself. She was dressed as May, all in black as always, but for once the dark clothing actually reflected her mood. Her hair hung in long black ringlets down her back and her face was paler than she usually made it. Although her lipstick was bright red her eye shadow was completely black and she wore no blush, which when contrasted with her unnaturally pale skin made her look gaunt and sickly.
Hermione stood backstage in the club. She would perform one last time, quit the band, break up with Draco, and bury May for good. It was as simple as that.
Taking a deep breath Hermione stepped onstage to join the rest of the band. She and Tom exchanged a sad smile. She had told him she was moving back to Paris.
The crowd went wild and Hermione was filled with the now familiar surge of adrenaline, fear, and excitement she always got when performing on stage. The crowd screamed as she approached her magical microphone to speak into it. Her eyes scanned the crowd and picked out Draco's pale face, his eyes nearly as miserable as her own. Hermione felt her throat go dry. She cleared it quietly.
"How's everyone tonight?" She asked the crowd in a sultry tone. They screamed their enthusiasm. "That's good. Before we start the show I guess I need to tell all of you something important," she continued, sounding much more confident and secure than she felt. "Tonight will be my final performance with the band." There were groans and shouts of protest. Draco looked stunned. Good. "Yep, I'm sorry to say it, but my time on the stage is over. But hey, there's still tonight," Hermione smiled seductively. "Let's make it the best night it can be, eh?" The crowd cheered. Hermione started to sing.
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Draco burst into the dressing room after the band had finished. Hermione was waiting for him on the sofa.
"What the hell is going on?" He demanded. "Why did you quit?"
"I'm leaving Draco," Hermione answered hollowly. "I'm moving back to Paris. I realized that I missed it there and that I belong there. Good-bye." She wouldn't meet his eyes. She knew that she would cry if she met his eyes.
Draco looked like he had just been punched in the stomach. "What?" He gasped. "You're leaving? You can't leave; I need you! I love you, May!"
Hermione stilled looked down. "I love you too, Draco." She felt a tear sliding down her face. "But I have to leave. I can't be here any longer." She stood to go, to escape, to be anywhere but in that room with him.
"No, you can't!" Draco grabbed her arm. "Why are you doing this to me? Did you meet someone else?" He demanded, hating himself the moment the words left his lips. The disgust in the look Hermione shot him gave her away. "You know, don't you?" Draco stepped back, almost falling. "You know what happened with Granger, don't you?"
Hermione looked down. "Yes."
"But…how?"
"I just know."
"Oh."
"I really do love you Draco," Hermione finally looked directly at him, her pain in her face as tears streamed silently down her cheeks. "I would have done anything to be with you. I even would have forgiven you if you had told me. But you didn't, so I couldn't. It's over."
Draco was getting desperate. "How do you know I wasn't going to tell you?" He lied. Her look made him look down guiltily. "I just couldn't do it," he mumbled. When he looked back at her face Hermione saw that his eyes were oddly shiny and bright. "I thought that if you knew what I did that you would leave me for sure."
"Well I guess you never really knew me," Hermione answered blithely. Inwardly she knew that he never really knew her because she never let him know the real her. "I can't stay here." She moved to walk past him.
Draco didn't let her. Grabbing her by the shoulders he pulled her into his arms and kissed her sharply. She let herself melt into his arms, still crying, only for a moment before pulling away and running from the room.
Draco stared out the open door after her, his cheeks soaked with tears, although he never knew for sure if they were his or May's.
That was the day that May died.
A/N: Don't worry, this is not the end! There are still more chapters and I've already decided to make a sequel. It's another old story of mine with several plot holes that I plan to merge with this one into a sequel. So no worries! Also apologies about the shortness and angstyness of this chapter. It had to be done for the sake of the story.
Preview: Hermione wanted to laugh and cry and yell, in happiness or anger, all at once. How different and yet similar everything was.