Disclaimer: "Collapsed" belongs to Aly & AJ and all characters except Christine, Patrick, Rachel, Paul, Grover and Caroline belong to Mrs. Rowling.
You were the one
That I couldn't find
Hidden away,
In the depths of my mind
Why did I let you go?
You're too good to be true
I messed it up
And now I don't what to do
We ran in circles and wasted time
From right to wrong
From right to wrong
If I knew that you were mine
I wouldn't have wasted time
I wish I could erase the past
Now its all collapsed in my lap
I over thought
So I locked up my heart
There you stand
Your blue eyes hidden beneath your hurt
Why did I let you go?
I messed it up and now I don't know what to do
Collapsed by Aly & AJ
I never cried this much in my entire life. Not when I left home for Hogwarts. Not when I dropped out of Divination. Not when Ron broke my heart fourth year. Not on my sixteen birthday when Viktor finally was realizing the problems with our age difference. Not when I walked away from Ron. Not when Pierre cheated. Never.
What really sucked about this though?
The one person who could make stop crying was the one that caused me to; the one person I have to avoid.
"Rough week?" Oliver asked, pulling out a pitcher of orange juice. I hadn't seen him since before the break up. It was traveling season.
"You could say that." I answered.
"Mine sucked too." He answered.
I think I nodded in response, but I wasn't too sure. I was kind of out of it. Not out of it enough though to realize that he wanted to talk. "What happened?" I asked out of politeness.
"Getting an annulment. How about you?"
I raised an eyebrow. "I think you win. I just broke up."
"Nice." Oliver said after downing an entire glass of juice in a single gulp. He is just all around impressive. He started on a second one.
"Why are you two separating?" I asked. "You guys always seem pretty happy."
"Not at all." Oliver said, taking a seat across from me. "Her family is freaking nuts! None of them, I repeat, none of them were supportive of this marriage. I didn't realize just how much money Marie is worth; I still don't exactly know, but her cousin put it this way, "Marie is worth a significant portion of Gringotts". They all have it in their heads that I married her for her money, of course, we didn't sign any pre-nup sort of thing, we always thought that was just silly. I don't care about money; if I'm not the breadwinner, so what? And I told them that. Which they interpreted as me meaning that I wanted to be a freeloader. And she got very distant after that."
"What do you mean?" I asked, happy that he had shifted the focus off of me. Oliver was pretty good at that.
"She kept stalling when it came to moving in together. I have been married for months and we still do not share an apartment! Granted yes, I have been traveling for the majority of that time with quidditch and her with her movies, but still. That's another thing, she claimed we never see each other, but every time I tried to get a hold of her, she was off with another girlfriend or with her publicist or some charity thing. She was just never around!"
"Oh, man, I'm sorry." I said, taking the orange juice carafe from him and pouring some for myself. Times like these required serious drinking of the orange juice variety.
"Well, I'm sorry about you and Hermione." Oliver said, wiping the orange juice onto his sleeves. Now that we didn't have significant others, we could do that again.
Oliver and I must have been thinking the exact same thing. Freaky, I know. Although, I guess neither Oliver nor I ever have very complex thoughts, so once in awhile they must be bound to overlap.
"We need to do stuff that we couldn't do with the girls." Oliver said and I nodded in agreement before he even finished because I knew what he was about to say (see the aforementioned "freaky same thought")
Then we both sat there. Because we realized that we had been "not single" for so long that this required serious thinking.
"Um." Oliver said. "We could…….order delivery and eat out of the take-out containers?"
"We just drank our weight in orange juice." I pointed out.
"Good point." Oliver sighed. "I wasn't hungry anyway."
"We could…….play quidditch?" I suggested.
"Too tired." Oliver said. "And my girlfriend let me play quidditch, since you know it was my job and everything."
"Good point." I said.
We were going to be here for awhile.
"My, we haven't seen you around these parts much lately," She said, wiping her hands off on the tea towel.
"I'm so sorry, Mum-"
"Oh, don't worry about your old mother," She said, pulling me into a hug, now that her hands were clean. "I know you're a busy girl. I've seen the telly."
"Still, I should be around mor-"
"Nonsense." Mum said, straightening up the mess of books on the counter. "You have your own life and your father and I ours. We're barely home as it is anymore."
"Really?" I said, sitting on one of the barstools by the counter.
"Just last Saturday, your father surprised me with a trip down to Wales. He found a lovely antique bookstore- oh! That reminds me," She replied and then disappeared into the den.
"Mum?" I called, getting up to follow her when she returned with an armload of books.
"You must read these!" She said, setting them down on the counter she had just cleared off. "The one about Prague is simply delightful! Oh and this one?" She said, holding up a hardback maroon book. "Is nearly three hundred years old! It's about the Renaissance."
"Interesting, Mum." I said. "Do you think I could ask you a question?"
"Of course, sweetheart!" She said. "Oh, and I have this one on witchcraft! You will find it so funny, because it is so different from everything you've ever told me!"
"Okay." I said.
"Ha! Here it is! The Life of Amelia Renaldi, you should really read this, she was a friend of your great great grandmother, you know. And-"
"MUM! Enough with the books!" I said, finally flipping. I never said patience was my specialty.
"Whoa, what is wrong sweetheart?" She said, stroking my hair. "You never say enough with the books."
"Mum, I made a mistake." I said, uncontrollably bawling. She just pulled me into a hug and kept running her hands through my hair. "I love him!"
"You just let it out, everything will be all right." She whispered in my ear, my tears soaking her shirt.
"Oh, Merlin, you have to see this!" Oliver laughed as he dug deeper in his closet.
"She bought you a tie?"
"With sailboats on it!"
"That is priceless." I laughed as he tied it around his forehead.
"What do you think?" He asked, striking a pose.
"Well, that shot is guaranteed to land you at fifty galleons. I mean, Witch Weekly and Sexy Sorcery are going to be fighting for the rights for that one."
"I'll keep that in mind." He said, pretending he was seriously considering it. "Actually, I think it may be better as a napkin."
"It will fit right in with the décor at our weekly dinner parties." I agreed.
"This week sailboat theme and next week…" Oliver shouted.
I held up this enormous book that Hermione had given me. "Stuffy old book theme!"
"Cheers!"
"It's just that he acts so childish sometimes and I freaked out!" I wailed.
Mum handed me a cup of tea, sweetened with mint; our favorite. "My dear, I hate to say it, but you truly are my daughter."
She sighed and sat down on the edge of my bed. I was curled up at the head of my bed, holding a stuffed cat that Viktor Krum had given me my fourth year. It looked oddly like Crookshanks, which was the only real reason I still had it.
"Did you know that your father proposed to me and I said no?" She smiled, patting my knee.
"You said no to Daddy?" I asked, completely shocked. My parents were soulmates.
"Oh, yes, without even thinking twice. He was twenty one with a penchant for racing and being a goofball. Never what I imagined to be husband material." She said, shaking her head. "He proposed after only dating for three months. And I was crazy about your father, don't get me wrong, but I'm no Rachel Stevens, or whoever you kids worship these days, so I knew it wasn't for my rocking looks, but I didn't understand his reasoning behind it. He was just always so confident and relaxed. He didn't worry about things. And that scared the hell out of me. But I realized that that was one of the things I admired most about him. I realized, after talking to Charlotte, that I didn't hate his childish ways, I was envious of them. He was changing me, for the better, mind you, but it scared me. My sister was the one who pointed out that I was a better person because of him. Quite frankly, I am not sure I would have survived getting my doctorate without him standing there on the sidelines telling me to relax. I stop studying and he would go, "Come on, you need some fun time, let's go to the bookstore and get your mind off studying"
Only my parents would go to the bookstore to stop thinking about work.
"Anyway, Hermione, what I am saying is that you cannot fear change or differences. Embrace them, maybe he's your one. Maybe he's not. But you certainly cannot break up because Ron told you to. I will tell you this, and I want you to listen to me, promise?"
"Yes, Mum." I answered, practically choking the Crookshanks look-alike.
"Ron is jealous. He lashed out. Honestly? You two are far more alike than either of you will ever admit. While that worked for best friends, it didn't work for a relationship. You guys didn't become better people because of each other; if anything, you only brought each other down. Now from what you've told me about Fred, you two brought about good changes in each other. As a relationship should."
"Are you saying that Fred and I work because we are so different?" I asked, but she didn't answer.
"It will be all right, one way or another, Hermione." She said, kissing me on my forehead. "Don't you fret. Just follow your heart. It will be okay."
That was all I needed to hear. I smiled at her.
"Now, why don't you take a nap?" She said, reaching over to fluff your pillow. "I will wake you up before your father gets home and you can help me with dinner, how's that sound?"
"It sounds wonderful." I answered, before letting my eyelids close as she shut the bedroom door. Sometimes, all you need is Mum.
I sank into the happiness of my unmade bed. No girlfriend; no need for matching sheets. Things were slowly settling back to normal and it was nice.
But I still did sort of miss her.
And her nice sheets.
I came home late that night with a stack of new books and a note from Lavender saying that she was going to be spending the night with Parvati. I didn't really mind being by myself, it was kind of nice.
I was going to fix everything.
First thing in the morning.
Last night had been the first decent night in over a week (a week and three days ago being the break-up night)
This morning however had been another story.
I awoke to a loud pounding coming from the front door.
I groaned and put my head under the pillowcase-less pillow.
It continued.
I threw my pillow at my bedroom door.
Unfortunately that only made it worse because (A) that was not the door they were knocking at and (B) I no longer had the pillow to muffle the sound.
Why wouldn't that damn headache at the door just go away?
I sighed. Fred clearly wasn't home.
I apparated to his store. He was shelving puking pasties. Unfortunately, those had yet to be banned by the Ministry.
"Fred, we need to talk." I said, walking up to him.
"Then you probably ought to find him." He growled.
"George?" I asked, backing away as if he would bite. Actually, I hurt Fred, there was a pretty good possibility that George would hurt me; the biting option was not totally ruled out yet.
"Hermione?" He growled back. He was being a pain in the ass, he knew very well what I meant.
"Merlin, stop being such an ass." I snapped, watching George's eyes grow double in size.
"Such language does not suit a lady." He replied.
"I really don't care. Where is Fred?" I asked.
"Not here." George answered. "He's out with Oliver, Christine and Patrick today."
"Thank you," I said, and spun around to leave.
"Hermione." George called.
"What?"
"You blew it. Learn to deal."
In order to preserve my image as a lady, I will disclose my response.
"This is just what I needed." Oliver said, adjusting his cloak. It was only September, but it was already chilly. "Thanks for letting me tag along."
"You know we only let you tag along because you were able to get us on the pitch before the game to meet the players, right?" I teased.
"Oh yeah." He laughed. "It was nice seeing the guys again. Haven't seen too many of them except Kristen and Paul since I traded to Scotland."
"I knew you couldn't make it a whole hour without mentioning your promotion. Pay up!" I joked.
"Pay up?" Christine repeated.
"Nevermind, sweetie, your Uncle Fred is just kidding himself." Oliver said.
"Fred, when are they coming back?" Christine asked, standing on her seat, looking down into the pitch for the missing players.
"They'll be back, Christine Gabrielle." I said, pulling her into my lap; the witch behind us didn't like her constantly standing.
"Wilson needs medical attention because he was stupid enough to try the Wronski Fent on a broom clearly designed for speed, not agility!" Oliver hollered to no one in particular; although the purple haired wizard about our age sitting in front of us nodded in agreement.
"He's stupid?" Christine repeated. Clearly today was going to be one of those days we had to watch ABSOLUTELY everything we said, or Fleur would surely get an earful.
"That's what he said, STUPID!" Patrick yelled back at her.
"Look what you started." I said to Oliver, who was laughing at Patrick and Christine. Merlin, I love my nieces and nephews. This outing had been a present for Christine's birthday but Patrick got wind of it and it was decided that he must come too. The two were surprisingly close at times, but as distant as Percy and let's say, everyone else, at others. The times they were getting along civilly, usually involved someone making fun of the other. Thus why Oliver was brought in as a reinforcement.
"Miss, you need a ticket." A tall gangly fellow with horrible acne wearing a Glasgow Stadium Employee jacket said.
"Where can I buy one of those?" I asked impatiently. It was already well into the game.
"See that booth over there?" Pimply guy said.
"Yes, tha-"
"You can go over there, travel back in time to about three weeks ago, and then buy one." He smirked.
Oh, he was infuriating me. Calm down, Hermione. Think this through rationally. "You see, I am here with my show, Waking Up Wizarding World with Lavender Brown and Hermione Granger, and I don't have my pass, but we're here to interview Oliver Wood and his former teammates-"
"You are on the telly?" The guy asked. "Oh wait, I recognize you, you're Lavender. You did that segment on the Harpies new coach and the-"
"Yes, and now I'm working on this one and if you could help me that would be ever so helpful of you." I said, batting my eyelashes. Hey, it works for Lavender. And apparently I am her.
"Is something wrong with your eye?" He asked, leaning in and squinting at me.
"I have a twitch." I hissed. Damn Lavender.
"Oh that sucks, I had one of those once but I saw this wizard down on Dia-"
"Yes, yes, do you think you could get me in?" I asked, interrupting Chatty Cathy over here.
"Um, well, you aren't really supposed to, but I suppose if its for your work-"
"Oh, thank you!" I said, not giving him a chance to change his mind.
"Hey, do you think you have any openings at the studio, I have a great resume-"
"Um, sure, what's your name?" I said, although I had no intention of taking this any further.
"Grover Justtine." He said, scratching a zit. Lovely. "I took apart a muggle telly once if that's helpful."
"Oh, yes, definitely." I said, not really giving a damn. "I'll get back to you if we have an opening for that particular skill."
"Oh, thank you Miss Brown."
"And here." I said, conjuring up some potion.
Now maybe he'll actually have a shot at a date.
"And there's another goal! Puddlemere is seriously going to need to step it up a notch if they want to win this game." The announcer, a girl with an Italian accent, bellowed.
"You shouldn't have left, man," I said to Oliver, who just looked pained by this game.
"This is disgraceful." He moaned, burying his head in his hands.
"Well, I want the Flyers to win!" Patrick said, just to be different.
Oliver shot Patrick such a look that I felt the need to pull Patrick into my lap, just to make sure that for the next few minutes he remained a safe distance away from Oliver.
Something just occurred to me.
There were approximately five thousand people at this game. How the hell was I supposed to find Fred?
"Spectacular game." Oliver said to Patrick as he got out of his seat.
"Oh, stop gloating." Patrick hissed. Puddlemere won. And leave to it to Oliver to argue with a five year old about it.
"Fred! Fred!" Christine said, her arms outstretched.
"Oof!" I teased. "You certainly weigh as much as a six year old."
"I won't be six until tomorrow, silly!" Christine laughed.
"Oh, yeah, that's right." I said, carrying her out of our row.
That's when I saw her.
What was she doing here?
Yes, I am well aware of how long it took me to write this, and let me say I am greatly ashamed of that. I am so sorry. What makes it even worse is the fact that I had about ten pages written for about two months, I just couldn't quite end it. Well, I had originally planned on this chapter also encompassing Hermione's confrontation with Fred at the game, but I decided it would be better just to post this "filler" chapter, showing Fred's growing freedom and Hermione's weakness, and I have the next chapter be the talk.
Please, please, please review. I appreciate them so much. They inspire motivation.
Also, if you would happen to want another story to read, I'd really like some feedback on my story Hanging by A Moment. I fully intend on finishing both this story and that one, although sadly I cannot say the same for my other stories. I wrote the other ones awhile ago and I cringe everytime I look at them. I plan on rewriting Not According to Plan, because I like the premise to that story, although my writing for it so far just sucks.
Again, thanks so much for the patience.
Love ya!
Preppy in Pink
