Chapter 9: Repose
"The rest, as is customary to say, is history," Hermione finished at last, collapsing back on the spare bed in Ron's room. "So now you understand."
"Yes, I suppose we do," said Ron slowly, "but I still don't get why you agreed not to go back to Hogwarts."
Something about his tone of voice and his mystified expression made Hermione laugh, breaking the slightly solemn silence that had befallen the trio of friends. "Because I gave up doing things normally a long time ago. Or when I became friends with you lot. Whichever came first," she retorted with a fond grin. "School's always been a big part of my life, but a couple of troublemakers taught me that sometimes there are more important things."
"Who was that?" Ron asked, looking puzzled.
"Us, you bloody moron," Harry said, rolling his emerald green eyes for Hermione's benefit.
"Oh, right, I knew that. Completely." Ron nodded, wide-eyed. "What do your parents think about this year? You not going back and all."
Hermione squirmed a bit. "Oh, right, well... Actually I hadn't planned on telling them. I don't even know if they know about... about the... the Battle of the Tower," she said. "I did buy them a Daily Prophet subscription for Christmas this year, so they could know what was going on in the event of... things happening. But if they read it, I don't know."
"Why wouldn't they?" asked Ron. "This is your world."
"Muggles don't always appreciate it the way we do," Harry told him. "They're not part of our world, and even when the worlds collide they don't exactly like to pay much attention to it. I don't know if we could ever coexist. Well, coexist intertwined that is. We do well enough coexisting parallel to one another, for the most part."
"See, the thing is, I've never really been close to my family the way you were with yours, Ron," Hermione said. "But I wasn't completely alienated from them the way you were, Harry. I was kind of in the middle. We were like the two worlds. We coexisted alongside one another, but trying to coexist with each other was a different story, and has been ever since I left. Even holidays at home have been awkward. We're better off this way," she said.
"Hermione, they're still your parents," Harry said. "They still love you, even if you're more a part of a different world." There was a wistfulness in his voice. "I think it's been harder for me, seeing people with their families, since going back to the old place—Godric's Hollow," he explained. "I never quite had anything worth calling family. There were blood relations, and that was it."
"I'm sorry, Harry, I didn't stop to think."
"It's okay. It's really something I realized when you were telling your story." He shrugged and ran his fingers through his already-wild hair. It was actually getting a bit longer than normal, looking shaggier and far more unkempt that usual. "When was the last time you were home to see them?"
"Right before we left for the Quidditch World Cup," Hermione muttered, suddenly realizing how embarrassingly long ago that was. "Things kept coming up that kept me from going home. The Yule Ball. Then going to Grimmauld Place with the Order, because You-Know—oh sod it—Voldemort—was back. And spending most of last summer here. And Christmas and holidays at Hogwarts." She bit her lip. "I guess maybe I should have gone home more often."
"You were too busy," Ron said with a goofy grin. "You were studying too much, and forgot what day it was. Or you studied so much your head got too full of knowledge and was too big to fit through the library doors and you were stuck in there forever!" he exclaimed, a menacing expression on his freckled face. He couldn't hold it, though, and burst into laughter. "Why don't you go home now? We have some time," he said reasonably, looking at Harry for support.
"Yeah, Hermione, we're spending our extra time here, then going to Grimmauld Place, and we went to Godric's Hollow, so we've covered Ron's place and both of mine," Harry said with a smile. "We could take a quick trip to yours. Meet those dentist parents of yours properly."
"I don't think I could... they're not expecting me. They may be on holiday," she said lamely, looking away from Harry's gaze. "And I doubt they'd want to hear from me."
"You are their daughter," Harry said firmly. "Of course they want to hear from you. Especially if they've been reading that Daily Prophet subscription and hearing about all the things going on. Give them some credit," he added, seeing her doubtful facial expression. "From the sound of it they may have never understood you but they still loved you."
"Yeah, yeah," Hermione said dully, picking at a lint pill on the hand-crocheted afghan folded at the foot of the spare bed.
"They let you go to Hogwarts when they didn't, you know, get it at all," Ron said. "They definitely wanted the best for you. And they took you to France even though all you talked about was witch burning and other things they probably didn't care about." He grinned knowingly.
"All we're saying is you have nothing to lose," Harry finished, the force of his gaze somehow magnified by his glasses. "Especially now." His voice grew heavy with meaning and all three of them were forced to remember that in spite of the coziness of the Burrow's attic bedroom there was a war going on outside, a war that they would have a part in sooner or later. Time wasn't exactly on anyone's side.
"I'll go into town and phone them tomorrow, first thing," she promised. "So... do I make sense to you now?" she asked, changing the subject.
"It is nice to know you were always annoying," Ron said thoughtfully. "Speaking of annoying, what are they going to do about Head Girl? And wouldn't your parents be chuffed if you told them about that, at least? You said they'd get prefect, they'd understand it."
"I know, I know," she said with a sigh as the conversation turned back to its original topic in spite of her efforts to change it. "That's not exactly what was important to me... OWLs, NEWTs, those things are. Potential jobs with the Ministry of Magic are important to me. Prefect, I expected. Head Girl, I expected. And just like I expected, those are the only things they really understand." She sighed again and laid back, staring at the exposed, slightly warped wood beam rafters. "I haven't officially 'dropped out' of Hogwarts yet, so I'm officially Head Girl, still. But I suspect they'll give it to Padma Patil when they realize I'm not coming back."
"What, not Pansy Parkinson?" Ron said sarcastically.
"I don't think Slytherin has a great name after what happened," Harry said glumly, evidently remembering the horrors he'd witnessed a couple months ago. "Even if Pansy was made a Prefect, I don't think McGonagall ever thought that highly of her, and the way she took up with... with Malfoy," he spat venomously.
"Padma deserves it. More than I do, if you think about it," Hermione said. "With all the rules we three broke? Whether the staff knew it or not? I'd be such a hypocrite." She laughed a bit. "Oh, and Ron, Ernie Macmillan is a definite for Head Boy. I think he'll turn out better than Percy, though," she added, and Ron appeared to have an expression of relief on his face.
"Good, because I always liked that Ernie," Ron said. "If he was going to be another Percy..." he shuddered. "How do you feel about not doing it? Not being Head Girl?"
She shrugged. "Alright, I think. Like I said, there are more important things. Like friends."
"And family," Harry emphasized.
"Yes, and family," Hermione added, if only to appease Harry. She squirmed again under his knowing gaze. "I said I'd phone."
"Don't phone, just go. Tell them everything. Tell them you're Head Girl and let them think it, or that you're giving it up and let them yell at you. Have a nice conversation over tea or have a row. I don't care, honestly, but go to them."
Even though she knew Harry made perfect sense, Hermione felt the twinges of something within her. She recognized it as the feeling she had when it became apparent her parents might not send her to Hogwarts, when she thought she'd be left at home, kilometers ahead of her peers academically, but light years behind socially, floundering to fit in somewhere, anywhere. It was fear. "I'm scared," she finally admitted, looking down, around, anywhere but at her two best friends. "I shouldn't be but I am."
"Don't be."
"I am. I don't think I've ever been quite the daughter they wanted, and now if I tell them these things, that I'm dropping out of the school they thought could 'fix' me or something of the sort... I'm just afraid."
"But you don't know anything for certain yet," Ron pointed out, sensibly for once. "Look, Harry and I will go with you, we'll wait outside if you want us to. But Harry's right. You need to do this."
She inhaled a shuddering breath. "And... and you'll both be there. You promise."
"Of course," Harry said, smiling.
"I don't know how we'd get there," she said suddenly. "It's got to be a long trip—"
"You were the first one of us who could Apparate," Ron said yawning. "Next excuse, please." He grinned and sat up, moving across the room to where Hermione sat in just two long strides. He sat next to her and smiled. "Like it or not, you're going to do this, and we are going to be there for you. We're your friends, like it or not. And yes, I'm not a fool, I know there are times you haven't liked it."
Hermione managed a grin. "I know, like when you thought Crookshanks ate Scabbers."
"He should have," Harry shot over caustically.
"Or when you both thought I was a nightmare to be around, and thought it made sense I had no friends," she said with a wider grin. "The great irony is we all wound up friends."
"Well, a bloody mountain troll trying to kill you all at the same time is bound to make friends out of you," Ron said.
"Yeah, Hermione, we faced a mountain troll with you. I think we can handle a couple of dentists," Harry said, rising and making his way over to them, then sitting on the other side of Hermione. "Come on, Hermione. Say you'll do this."
"I don't exactly have a choice in the matter, do I," Hermione said, looking at Ron on her right, and Harry on the left. Both grinned and shook their heads. "Fine. We'll go. Tomorrow. And you'd both better be there for me!" She rose and stretched. "I didn't realize how late it was getting. I should get to bed."
Harry and Ron nodded, and both yawned, as if realizing suddenly that they too were tired. Ron got up again and leapt onto his already rumpled up Chudley Cannons bedspread. "G'night," he said, burying his carrot-topped head under a pillow. Harry remained where he was, watching Hermione carefully. "Alright, there?" he asked.
She paused in the doorway. "Yeah, I'll be fine. Thanks."
"For..."
"Listening, I suppose," she said, leaning against the doorframe. "I never realized before now how much all of that weighed on me. How much I needed to get it out and talk about it. I guess I just always thought it was something wrong I'd done. Something freakish."
"Well, it's certainly not normal," Harry said with a teasing smile. "But it's what makes you, well, you. I'm friends with Hermione the genius freak, but that's the only Hermione I want to be friends with. It's the only Hermione I'd trust," he finished, lying down and taking off his glasses. "Sleep well," he said. "Everything's going to be fine, I think. Eventually."
"Yes, eventually," Hermione agreed. "Good night." She turned and navigated the twisting stairs, a miracle of architecture, that led down to the next floor of the Burrow. She tiptoed into Ginny's room. It was a mark of how late it actually was, that Ginny, and their mutual friend, Luna Lovegood, were already sleeping, Ginny in her bed, and Luna curled up, cat-like, in a nest of blankets.
"'Mione?" came Ginny's sleepy voice. "D'you know what time it is?" she asked groggily.
"I believe half one," Hermione said.
"That's nice. Kind of a rhetorical question though," Ginny said. "G'night."
Hermione suppressed a giggle at her friend's sleepy behaviour, and quietly made her way to the sleeping bag she'd spread out against the far wall. She climbed in, still clothed, and fluffed the feather pillow Mrs. Weasley had left for her. She snuggled down into the bag and closed her eyes, but even then she was not spared flashes and visions in her mind's eye. She sighed and turned over so she was facing upwards, and stared at the darkened ceiling above. For the most part she felt lighter, more free than she'd felt in years, even in the years she'd had such friends like Harry and Ron, and Ginny and Luna. But she also felt that something was still nagging her, something she needed to complete before it was too late. And these days, any day could be too late.
Harry was right. She did need to call on her family, if only because they were family.
And she would. Ron would be there with her, and Harry too. With all the things Harry had on his mind lately it was actually quite thoughtful of him to offer, she thought, which made it seem all the more imperative that they go to the little neighbourhood just outside of London. And maybe they could go into London as well, perhaps call on Violet Peekins. If she was still around, Hermione realized. She hadn't seen the name at all in the Daily Prophet's almost daily casualty list, but that didn't always mean anything...
She shook the weighty sensation out of her mind. Her parents would be home and they'd be glad to see her. Violet Peekins would be in her New Age shop, raving about chakras and Muggles and the colour indigo.
Hermione's eyes traveled from the ceiling to the window, through which the night sky was visible. This far out in the country the sky usually looked black as pitch, or jet, sprinkled with stars, but tonight there was a bit of a moon, and the light turned the sky a deep, dark blue. Indigo. Her colour. And oddly enough, the indigo of the autumn sky seemed to reassure her that she'd be doing the right thing, and had no need to be afraid anymore. She'd been afraid of herself for too long. It was time to overcome that fear.
She smiled to herself and resolutely closed her eyes and waited for sleep to come. Faraway, from somewhere in her oncoming dreams, she thought she could hear Chopin.
A Note To Readers
I'm not normally one to do this, posting notes in a chapter; I usually do that in my Updates section in my profile. But for those of you who have been faithfully reading Indigo Autumn (and even those who just stumbled on it!) I set up a forum in my forums section to discuss not only IA, but also other potential "Indigo Hermione" stories. You have all been so helpful with the story that I'd love to collaborate or discuss the potential for other such works with you. You can find it by pasting this link into your browser. It's titled "Indigo Intimations" (which isa tentative title for the collection): http/ Thanks again! Epilogue coming soon...
