Hi. Long time no see. How's the quarantine treating you? I lost my job. That was fun. I'm in college, so it was only part time, but I'll admit, I do miss the extra cash. But not my manager. She sucks.
Anyway.
Here's another long awaited update. I appreciate that at least some of you have stuck it out, and that I've found a few new of you along the way. As promised, I'm not giving this story up (because I have a really great future scene planned and I refuse to waste it), but the updating will be slow. Life and all that, yeah?
Also, there was no proofing for this chapter so I could get it out as quickly as possible. Apologies for typos and bad wording.
Love,
Cherry
Hermione had become something of a hermit in recent weeks, though she preferred to think of herself as a reclusive scholar. See, since her last visit to Malfoy Manor for Draco's final treatment, she'd entrenched herself in the books he'd allowed her to take, and it was with curiosity and excitement that Hermione had begun to piece together the history of Witch's Ganglion and its elusive nature that kept anyone from documenting it thoroughly. This research was what kept Hermione from venturing out of her home, save for travelling to and from work, where she secretly stowed away even more books that might help her research that she read during lunch. Her work didn't suffer, of course, and it was with ease and mild boredom that Hermione treated the odd bites and scratches wizards and witches whinged about to her every day.
Admittedly, despite the monotony in her routine, Hermione hadn't felt quite this alive in quite some time. She thrived under the stress that research brought her, and the desire to find the answer to something she didn't completely understand captivated her in a way that no patient (besides Draco's curious ailment, of course) could. Even her relationship with Ron - as much as she'd begun to romanticise it - paled in comparison to the mental stimulation her studies brought her.
So maybe, if she confessed to it, Hermione would admit she'd become a hermit. A happy hermit, but a hermit nonetheless.
"Honestly, Hermione, when was the last time you cleaned?" Ginny asked as she dusted herself off, stepping out of the fireplace. By the door, she looked for a free hook to hang her robes on; all were covered with various garments of Hermione's, ranging from outerwear to items that didn't need to be hung on a coat rack. She finally settled on moving the scarf to the hook with the gloves, and wedged her dark green robes in between two trench coats.
"Hm?" Hermione hummed, half listening to her friend's critique, though her eyes never left the diary she was reading (which detailed a wizard's trials and errors mixing Witch's Ganglion with other potion ingredients).
"Tuesday?" She finally answered with some hesitancy, knowing she might've meant last Tuesday or the Tuesday before.
"Hermione, it's Saturday." Ginny responded, gobsmacked. Hermione had never been the tidiest person, but she'd always been cleanest, and bits of dust clung to Ginny's fingers as she ran a hand across the mantle. She grimaced and flicked the dust away with a bit of help from a wandless spell.
"And?" Hermione asked, finally looking up from her book. "I know where everything is." She gestured to the room. "Garments near the door and in the bedroom, dishes in the sink, study materials on the kitchen table and...everywhere else." Hermione shrugged and sniffed, pulling the quill from behind her ear as she took notes.
"Yes you know where everything is, but that doesn't mean it's clean." With a flick of her wand, Ginny got the dishes cleaning themselves, and put her hands on her hips, much like her mother used to do. "And listen to you sniffle! All the dust in here has to be making you allergic!"
"I'm not allergic to anything." Hermione rolled her eyes and propped her knee up on the sofa while she leaned back, taking a deep breath. "See? No coughing, no sneezing, I'm all right!"
Ginny huffed, clearly disagreeing. "And look at you!" She continued. "How old are those pyjamas you're wearing? And when did you last wash your hair?" She continued to nitpick, partially out of bossiness she'd developed as a parent of small children, but partially out of worry for her friend. Ginny didn't see Hermione very often anymore, now that their monthly dinner dates were no longer monthly (and no longer dates), and with the books that were now strewn across the room had absorbed ninety percent of Hermione's attention. It was unhealthy, and it made Ginny fret. She'd seen Hermione do this before - replace human interaction with books - and if Ginny didn't pull Hermione from her reclusive, manic state, who would? She could barely do it now that she had a family, and that made her feel guilty, too. That she'd moved onto another phase of her life, one she thought Hermione would join soon, but instead, she'd reverted to her sixth year state; alone and unwilling to accept help. Ginny hated to think about the conversation she needed to have with Hermione before she left, and instead gave herself a more practical task of restoring everything to its rightful state.
"Go shower. Now." Ginny snapped, and Hermione raised an eyebrow.
"I'm sorry, when Molly Weasley get here?"
"Hermione Granger, you get off that couch and get into the shower!" Ginny didn't appreciate the retort, recognising her mother's behavior in her own, and rather than let it distract her (like Hermione had intended), Ginny used her irritation to fuel her behavior and ushered Hermione into the bathroom, where she pulled the shower handle all the way to hot and nearly pushed Hermione in fully clothed. While Hermione bathed, Ginny returned to the living room, rolled up her sleeves, and began pointing her wand at the dirty surfaces. While the filth cleaned itself, Ginny began consolidating the stacks of books, trying to determine which belonged to Hermione, and which she had borrowed from other sources.
She started with the books closest to the bookshelf, and when Ginny had sorted those, she moved to the coffee table and fireplace, continuing her tidying. Eventually, she heard the shower shut off, and the telltale shuffle of Hermione dragging her feet as she walked into her bedroom to get dressed.
"And don't just put on those wrinkled clothes again!" Ginny called out, receiving a quiet "Yes, mum!" from the other side of the closed door. Ginny gritted her teeth a bit and cursed lightly under her breath, knowing that while she hated cleaning, she'd have to do it or no one else would.
When she finally moved to the kitchen table, Hermione emerged from the bedroom, hair wet, cheeks pink, and dressed in fresh joggers and a long sleeved shirt.
"It's about time, Princess, I've nearly finished cleaning your mess." Ginny spoke, taking a moment to dramatically stretch. "You know, the only exercise I get nowadays is my retired Quidditch players league once per month, and that has little affect on the muscles compared to the thousands of pages you have in this room."
Hermione quirked her lip, a little proud of the pseudo-compliment, but instead of boasting, she apologised for her collection. "Not that it needed to be cleaned up," she pointed a finger to Ginny, "because I had them all in order, but I do appreciate your help."
Hermione's method of thanking Ginny was to put a kettle of tea on to heat while she scoured her cabinets for some sort of snack. She finally settled on an unopened box of chocolate biscuits, which Ginny was sure to love. While Hermione had her back turned to tend to the kettle on the stove, Ginny slowed her sorting of the books on the kitchen table, her hand passing over a tall column of books bound in expensive leather with intricate designs.
"And what are these?" Ginny thumbed through the stack of books on her table, and Hermione's eyes widened.
"Nothing! Well, research, really. For a side project." She amended, trying to act nonchalant.
"Right. A side project." Ginny repeated, eyeing the Malfoy family crest stamped onto the inside cover of the journal in her hands. "As in the side project where you're searching for Strawberry's Cure?" She didn't mention that she knew exactly where the books had come from, or ask Hermione why she had them, but instead moved onto a topic they could address without defensiveness, from either side.
"How did you know about that?" Hermione asked, pouring two cups of hot water into mugs. She set two bags of a spicy black tea into the mugs and let them steep while turned to speak to Ginny, leaning against the counter.
"Well, I've put away enough of your books, and journals, and manuals to find a common theme; they're all plant based, mostly focussing on Asia, and I was there when Luna told you about Strawberry's Cure."
"Right." Hermione nodded. "Well, I want to exhaust the concept before I move onto another. This is the most promising lead I've had in quite a while, and I'm enjoying the hunt for information, so," Hermione shrugged and checked the teas, removing the bags and setting them and the box of biscuits on the newly cleaned table. The pair sat and Ginny added sugar to her tea while Hermione just held her mug to keep her hands warm as she was shivering a bit from the shower.
"Has anything about it indicated you could make a cure with it?" Ginny asked, intrigued by the research, but mostly because she knew it would allow Hermione not to feel so restricted by her body as it existed now.
"Well there's definitely a quality of invisibility it carries." Hermione explained, her face lighting up as she shared her research. "It's very temporary, as in those qualities disappear as soon as it dries, but I've been looking into what it can be mixed with that will allow its invisibility to last longer. Perhaps Belladonna? It's used in cosmetics due to its longevity, so I'm searching for some record of mixing the two lest I blow up the hospital's potion room trying to mix two things that have never been mixed before." Hermione smiled and Ginny did too, happy to see that even if her friend was pulling away from everyone she knew, at least she was enjoying herself while doing it. Ginny's smile soured as she remembered why she'd come to visit Hermione in the first place, and she fidgeted in her seat.
"I'm sure you'll find the answer. You always do." Ginny spoke positively, but Hermione could see something was bothering her.
"But...?" She asked, waiting for a negative response. Ginny but her lip and tried to weigh what to say next.
"It's nothing to do with this. I promise, I'm really happy for you. I think you're so very talented and knowledgeable, and if you could invent something to make cursed marks disappear, you'd be helping more people than just yourself." Both Ginny and Hermione's minds went to Draco, though for different reasons. Hermione saw the parallel between her and Draco, neither willing to show others the mark that identified them as less than those who walked around them. For Ginny...well, Ginny thought there might've been a budding friendship between the two, seeing as Draco was lending her books from his personal library and all.
"So what's happened, then? What aren't you telling me?" Hermione pressed Ginny for an answer, knowing it would be better to just get it over with now.
"I come bearing not so good news. About Ron." Ginny finally spoke plainly, discarding the chocolate biscuit she'd picked up at some point.
"Is he okay? He didn't get hurt, did he?" Hermione asked, her affection for Ron long but gone; she'd spent too many years with him to forget about him in a couple months.
"No he's not hurt, his skull's too thick to sustain any real damage." Ginny snorted, aware she was stalling.
"But...?" Hermione repeated, knowing there was something big Ginny wasn't saying.
"He's got a girlfriend." Ginny laced her fingers and set them on the table. "Kind of chuffed about it, too, but it's too fresh to be serious." She softened the delivery (or at least she hoped she did), not wanting to hurt her friend's feelings.
"Oh." Was all Hermione said initially, consuming the information. A girlfriend. That was unexpected. "Do I know her?"
Ginny made a face knowing that yes, Hermione did know Ron's new girlfriend, or rather, an old girlfriend.
"Yeah, it's Lavender." Ginny rushed the response, not particularly wanting to dwell on the subject. "Where did you buy these biscuits, Hermione? They're delicious." She changed the subject, but Hermione scrunched her nose and Ginny knew she hadn't changed the subject as smoothly as she'd hoped.
"Lavender." Hermione repeated, taking a sip of her tea. She bobbed her head, suspiciously calm for someone who had just been told their ex-fiancé was dating again. "Can't say I'm surprised, Lavender always had a way of fawning over Ron that went straight to his head."
Hermione had never known if Lavender had chosen Ron solely due to his rising popularity, or if she'd genuinely enjoyed some element of his presence. She'd never paid enough attention to their childhood romance to know much more than the fact that Lavender enjoyed attention, which Ron was the center of when they'd begun dating. No, Hermione had been rather preoccupied at that time with irritation for Ron's growing ego, and a bit of jealousy that he'd chosen to share that time of his life with anyone who would cheer him on, rather than his two friends who had always been there for him. And yes, if she were willing to admit it, Hermione had been a bit jealous because she'd wished Ron would look at her the way he looked at Lavender.
But bigger than that was his ego. Yes, Lavender had always known how to please Ron with her words, and if there was something he was searching for post-breakup, it was someone to make him feel better.
"I only told you because if you choose to leave your home or purchase a newspaper, you might find out. They were spotted together at a pub by the ministry."
"Right." Hermione drew the word out. "And my first concern upon seeing the two together would be to assume they're dating." There had to be more to the story, Hermione knew it. Ginny didn't want to have this conversation, so she wouldn't willingly force herself to unless something had happened.
"Well...they were...snogging...aggressively...so..." Ginny muttered and tore apart the biscuit in her hands until it was crumbles.
"Ah." Hermione nodded. "Yes, that's an indication. Did anyone ever tell the press we had split up?"
"I think that was the first indication." Ginny replied quickly. "But it should be clear now, no need to worry you'll have to release any statements."
"Right." Hermione nodded again, unable to do much more. Her brain was too busy processing that of all the witches Ron could have chosen, he had to choose the one that made Hermione look foolish. To go back to his first girlfriend only weeks after he'd broken up with his partner of eight years, it was an insult to Hermione's value.
But Ron didn't like being single. Hermione knew that, and maybe that's why she wasn't so angry or upset that he'd moved on.
"Okay." Hermione finished off her cup of tea. "Thank you for letting me know." She smiled tightly at Ginny in an attempt to reassure her, but Hermione could tell it didn't have that effect. It just seemed to make Ginny more worried. She seemed more angry than Hermione. Angry that her brother had ruined his chances with such an amazing woman like Hermione, angry that he squashed any chance of getting back with her by kissing another woman, and angry that he'd chosen Lavender of all people. Lavender was a dim-witted, boring, wily woman with not a single original thought. She was plain and dull compared to Hermione, and how Ron could manage to be attracted to both women was beyond her.
"How are you so calm?" Ginny finally asked, the question coming out loud and accusatory. Hermione raised an eyebrow at the response.
"What am I supposed to do? I'm the one who broke up with him. It wouldn't be right of me to be angry with him for moving on. Do I love that he's chosen Lavender? No, but Ron has a difficult time connecting with new people, so it makes sense that he's chosen to go back to something familiar."
"That's a nice way to talk about an absolute slag like Lavender." Ginny snorted and folded her arms.
"Ginny!" Hermione admonished. "That's an awfully cruel way to talk about someone you haven't spoken to in years."
"Well it seems I'm speaking for both of us right now, the way you're handling this." Ginny's voice raised.
"What, like an adult?" Hermione's voice grew louder as well, each trying to surpass the other's volume. "Like this news isn't going to break my very existence?"
"Like someone who isn't the slightest bit upset that they'll no longer be my sister!" Ginny felt tears well up behind her lashes and sighed, pinching the bridge of her nose as an opportunity to covertly wipe away the wetness from the corners of her eyes.
"Oh, Gin." Hermione reached out and covered Ginny's hand with her. "I already consider you my sister. A marriage to Ron wouldn't have created that connection between us. I love you."
"I know." Ginny cleared her throat. "There's just a lot I expected to happen after you two being together for so long. You know, life events, family functions, raising our children together. It's just not going to happen now, is it?" She looked to Hermione hopefully.
"Not unless Ron or I change dramatically." Hermione shrugged.
"You know, Ron's not my only single brother." Ginny offered. "I have plenty more if you're willing."
"If you want me in the family so badly, you and Harry should just adopt me." Hermione squeezed Ginny's hand, knowing the hardest part of the conversation was over.
"I'll pass, thank you. Lecturing you to bathe was enough of a hint that you're a stubborn child I have no interest in raising." Ginny sniffled once and stood up. "Well, you're clean, fed, and this place has been tidied up. I think it's time I return home to relieve Harry of baby duty."
"Thank you for coming over." The two stood and hugged, and Hermione walked Ginny to the coat rack, where Ginny put her robes back on. "I did need to shower, and I'll admit, my things needed a bit of organising. Not the books, mind you, but the clutter."
"It all needed organising, you included." Ginny winked and hugged Hermione once more before saying goodbye and disapparating in a crack.
"I think I saw a copy over here." Hermione rounded the corner, the smile tugging at the corner of her lips dropping as her eyes met a familiar pair. "Ronald."
Redness crawled up the man's neck, painting the tips of his ears. "Hermione." He greeted her with a nod. "Fancy seeing you here."
"It's a bookshop, Weaslebee." Draco sidled around the shelf, one eyebrow raised. "I'd say you're more out of place here than Granger."
