Chapter Two:
October 8th, 1999
"I owe you drinks for your birthday…" Ginny's voice startles her as she lounges on the living room sofa, book in hand, tea forgotten on the side table.
"You don't owe me anything for my birthday I pro–"
"I'm taking you out for drinks and I'm not taking no for an answer." She looks at her with those brown eyes and Hermione softens, her shoulders relaxing as she accepts her fate.
The girls climb the stairs to Ginny's room, nestled beside Luna's and across from Hermione's, glad that they no longer have to share such a confined space with one another. Although Hermione misses the sound of soft snoring on nights she can't sleep.
"Luna, do you want to come out for drinks tonight?" Hermione pokes her head into the open door. Her room is smaller than the others, but Luna chose this one specifically, saying she liked the feel of the floor. Not the physical feel, apparently it all feels the same, but the emotional feel of the floor itself is what drew her in.
"I already have plans. I'll sit with you while you get ready though." She doesn't even bother to look up from her newspaper. There's a little brown cat curled up on the small of her back with unnaturally looking green eyes. It peers at Hermione as if it's going to speak, causing her stomach to drop into the soles of her feet.
"We're getting ready in Ginny's whenever you want to join."
Leaving the door ajar Hermione takes a step out of the room and it's like wading through jelly. The engulfing calm feeling in Luna's room always makes her feel unnaturally nervous when leaving. Apparently Luna has worked hard charming her things against all manner of ill-doing creatures and the product of that is a sickly feeling of calm that weighs on one's bones while residing in her room.
"I was thinking about wearing a yellow dress tonight? But it might be too cold for it already…" Ginny is leaning into her closet, tossing articles of clothing left and right while muttering to herself. "...I think I left it at Katie's…" Her tone sounds defeated.
"How is it going with the Harpies?" Ginny pulls out a little bag, dumping the contents of it on the bed before charming a mirror to float in front of her. Hermione sits with her back against the headboard, eyeing the makeup carefully.
"It's going well, we have a sponsorship banquet in a few weeks. We aren't on the team yet though, I shouldn't say that, we are on the team but we haven't played a game yet…" Hermione nods as Ginny rubs blush into her cheeks, her eyes suddenly darting to the door. "Luna, is that my dress?"
She's standing in the doorway wearing an a-line dress with a square neck in a lovely sunflower yellow. The little brown cat that was curled up moments ago is now in her arms, settling into her lap when she takes a seat on the bed.
"Oh, yes. It is. Katie dropped it off yesterday, said you left it at her house after practice. I was hoping you would let me borrow it for my date." All the animosity in Ginny's face melts at the word date.
"A date? With who? When?" The words tumble from her mouth with a sense of urgency and devastating curiosity. Hermione knows Ginny has been feeling out of the loop lately, between practice and events with the team she hasn't been around as much. Missing out on her friends' lives had been weighing on her.
"With my girlfriend." There's a tone of almost finality to Luna's voice as the little brown cat rolls onto its back, batting playfully at her long blonde hair.
"You have a girlfriend? Since when?" Ginny says in shock. Hermione can tell she's hurt that she's the last to know about this information.
The only reason Hermione knows is because she caught Luna coming home late one Friday night just a little too intoxicated. They sat in the living room together and Luna went on for hours about how great her aura is.
"For a little while now I think…" she shrugs it off and Hermione changes the subject before Ginny's feelings are hurt more.
"Uhm…what's your cat's name?"
"This is Melody." Luna holds up the little cat under her armpits and those piercing green eyes bore into her soul. She doesn't know what to do next so she reaches a hand out and gently grabs Melody's paw.
"It's nice to meet you… You may enjoy hanging out with Crookshanks, he knows where all the good hiding spots are."
"Oh no they've already met. She hates him." Hermione closes her mouth, defeated.
"Why don't you wear the blue dress, Hermione? I think it will bring you luck tonight." Following her pointing finger, Ginny pulls a navy blue plaid dress from the closet giving it over to Hermione.
"You've got a good eye, Luna…"
Luna doesn't stay for much longer, skirting away to get ready for her date, Melody in tow. After she leaves, Ginny helps Hermione tame her hair, working it into smooth waves with the assistance of a tonic.
They take the Floo Network into The Leaky Cauldron before Ginny takes Hermione's hand and pulls her out onto the street.
"There's a new pub down the street that some of the girls on the team were talking about and I wanted to take you!" she says enthusiastically as Hermione stumbles after her, tripping over what Ginny had called sensible shoes before they left.
"Really 'Mione? You're wearing those out? Do you want to borrow something a little more…exciting?" She can't understand Ginny's distaste. They are practical, with a block heel and a strap around the ankle and the smallest amount of platform.
Her Mary Jane's match her borrowed dress perfectly. Red in colour and just above the knee, the low v neck shows off a little more than she's comfortable, but she felt daring when Ginny pulled it out of the back of her closet. Now she's second guessing it, not loving the way the bartender looks at her when they order drinks. She should have chosen Luna's dress.
She hopes it's Ginny he's looking at, a Holyhead Harpy in The Ridgeback doesn't seem like a common occurrence. But she knows that's a lie, her arm burning as she sits down near a window hoping the cool autumn night will soothe the fire under her skin.
"So tell me 'Mione, how are you doing really?" Her eyes are soft when she asks, no ill intent detected as Hermione takes a sip from her Butterbeer.
"I feel…" She stops for a moment, scanning the already rowdy crowd for a Thursday night. Should she tell Ginny the truth? How lost she's feeling? How she's struggling at work, struggling to find a purpose and wading her way through life after the war.
"Y-You're Hermione Granger! Aren't you?!" The man who stumbles up to their table is clearly intoxicated. He steadies himself against their booth and she recognizes those glassy eyes from the halls of the ministry.
"Sorry mate, we're having a private conversation," Ginny says with an authority Hermione rarely gets to hear.
The man scoffs, about to say something else when the bartender yells from his place behind the bar.
"Oi! Malcolm! Piss off, would you!"
Ginny levels her again with that look and any confidence Hermione felt from before has diminished. She takes another sip of her drink, gripping the glass tightly with both hands.
"You never actually told me anything about Quidditch, Gin. How's it going for real? How are you feeling about it?" From the breath Ginny lets out, Hermione knows she's struggling too.
She tries to focus, tries to hear what she's saying, and thinks about the words tumbling out of Ginny's mouth. But she's distracted by someone reading the paper at the table adjacent to them.
Malfoy Family Not Immune to Retrials.
Lucius. His snarl is unmistakable as his mugshot looks out to the pub in disdain. His prison number is nearly identical to the one she saw on Malfoy's neck mere weeks ago.
Does this mean he's back on trial? What ever happened to Theodore Nott? Her mind races and she catches herself drifting back to the paper, back to those hollow eyes.
He looks worse now than he did during the battle. At Hogwarts he was frantic, just wanting to protect his family, but in his mugshot he looks defeated. Like there's no more anger left and he's accepted his fate. She wonders how Malfoy feels, whether his brusqueness towards the clerk in the bookstore had something to do with his frustration. With the uncertainty of having a parent in Azkaban.
"–I do love playing but I worry…" she only catches the tail end of the sentence and it snaps her back to the present, "I feel like I'm missing out on things. Luna has a girlfriend, Neville is working under Professor Sprout, Ron was scouted by the Chudley Cannons at our last scrimmage, Harry–"
"Ron was what?" Hermione interjects as Ginny's eyes widened in realisation, hand clamping over her mouth quickly.
"Oh Merlin, I don't think I was supposed to tell you yet! Oh 'Mione it's all so new I promise and he's still thinking about it, Katie knows one of the players and invited a few of them along and they got on so well…but I don't think he will do it, that's too much tra–"
"Ginny, Ginny it's okay. It's alright, I promise I won't bring it up with Ron until he brings it up to me…" The look of relief on her face is palpable, the breath she lets out is visible and all Hermione does is slide the bracelet around her wrist.
"I thought he would have told you by now. He's thinking about dropping out of Auror training and going to the open try out next month…it's no secret the Cannons aren't the best team in the league, but he thinks it will be a stepping stone to a better team…And they've been his favourite since childhood." Ginny reaches across the table steadying Hermione's fiddling hands and giving them a squeeze. "I know this isn't what you envisioned 'Mione…"
She's right, this isn't what she envisioned, none of this. Hermione, in all her naivety, was hoping to live a quiet mundane life post war. She was hoping she could settle in and move up within the ministry. Her and Ron would settle down, have a home together. Him chasing his dreams to be a Quidditch player wasn't exactly a part of her plan, and it will take her time to wrap her head around it.
There's a sudden hush over the bar, a collective breath being held as a tall form slithers in through the door. He has a strong air of authority to him, a long black cloak with the hood pulled up hiding his face from everyone. She recognizes the ring on his hand as he pulls off the hood.
The bartender gives a nonchalant nod as Malfoy approaches the bar, his platinum blond hair a stark contrast against the darkness.
It's hard not to hear in the silence. Ginny's hand still rests on top of hers and it's Hermione's turn to offer her a reassuring squeeze.
"He's at the end of the bar, gonna splinch himself if he Apparates in his state." Malfoy meets his concern with a disapproving smirk. "His account also needs to be settled," The bartender adds quickly, clearly nonplussed towards Malfoy's perturbed demeanour.
"Of course it does…Please tell me he hasn't gotten into the expensive Whiskey…" The bartender gives him an apologetic glance and Hermione swears she can see Malfoy roll his eyes through the back of his head. "Even better…Here." He drops a small pouch onto the bar before moving over and throwing the arm of a slumped over man around his shoulder.
When he turns to the door she catches a glimpse of Theodore Nott's profile leaning against Malfoy's shoulder. He's whispering something frantically in Malfoy's direction, his brown eyes watery as everyone in the bar looks at the two of them.
"Theo-Theo, it's ok. I know, I know." Malfoy's voice is soft, she doesn't think she's ever heard him talk to someone in such a calm way. He has his hand on Theodore's chest, the other around his shoulder, steadying him to leave the bar.
"I can't. I can't…" Nott keeps muttering and the last thing Hermione can hear is Malfoy consoling him. She bites her lip, fiddling with her bracelet for a moment, wondering if it's about the trial, wondering if something terrible is about to happen. Wondering what on earth could be going on.
Ginny looks like a deer in headlights, panic written across her entire face and it takes every ounce of calm Hermione owns to bring her back.
"It's alright Gin, we're safe, I promise you." She can do nothing but nod her head carefully.
They leave the bar soon after, their previous merry mood sullied.
That night Hermione has nightmares filled with the cold floor of Malfoy Manor and her own screaming.
She wakes, worried she's woken the whole house, staying silent she listens. Not a sound. Not a soul seems to be up, perhaps her screaming was just in her dreams.
Her scar burns with a new intensity, she feels the knife press, draw blood and press again. Carving the word seemingly to the bone.
She wonders if Neville's scars ache, if the Carrows used the same magic on their knives. The burning turns, melting into a dull throb as she looks it over. Still scabbed like it isn't almost two years old.
"I'm sorry dear, this magic is dark and out of my wheelhouse…" The look Madam Pomfrey gave her after Hermione came knocking on her door in the middle of the night asking why it burned so badly, seeking relief and receiving none.
Sleep seems far off, the quiet night outside of Grimmauld place doing no help to calm her so she creeps down into the kitchen.
Kreacher passes her, mumbling something foul but acknowledging her presence which is a step in the right direction.
There's a small light coming from below the kitchen door, she stops for a moment, hand hovering over the knob, thinking about going back to bed.
But before she can turn, the door is open and Harry is leaning against the range, his wand tossed onto the counter carelessly, the only illumination in the room.
He looks tired. The underlighting doing him no favours. His hair is dishevelled from sleep and he wears nothing but pyjama bottoms and slippers, clearly not expecting to run into anyone in the kitchen at this time of night.
"I'm s-sorry I-I…" She doesn't know why her voice sounds so scared, so timid when she and Harry have shared more intimate moments of heartbreak.
But this feels different, fear is different than heartbreak. Fear of something that no longer exists. Something that can no longer hurt you. Her mind flashes, is filled with Dementors and dark magic and being on the run. It melts and settles, the anxiety of things changing, of her friends being forced to take care of her because she can no longer handle taking care of herself.
"Here." He offers her an open bar of chocolate, the purple wrapper unmistakeable. She crosses the threshold, taking it and leaning next to him. "I know it isn't real. I know they're not there…but the chocolate…it helps…"
Their arms brush and she passes the bar back to him. He's talking about the dementors that have been haunting his dreams. She looks down at their matching slippers, both emblazoned with H's. Molly wanted a challenge for Christmas last year so everyone got slippers instead of sweaters, Luna and Neville included.
The chocolate is sweet milk chocolate from Cadbury, different from the Honeydukes bars Lupin would carry, but these hold a memory. Sweet treats and seaside escapades with her parents, trips to the coast and pure nostalgia.
"It still feels real…even in dreams…" Her voice doesn't sound like her own when it tumbles from her lips.
Harry wraps an arm around her, squeezing tightly. Together they sit in mutual silence, wrapped in each other's presence because nothing else seemed to bring them comfort nowadays. Because nowadays, all they have is each other. And in the silence Hermione begins to wonder if that will ever be enough to keep the darkness at bay.