On Teenagers and Love
a story by anamatics
part three - the fog
Chapter 22 - On Fears
"Obliviate." The spell comes this time far more easily than the last. Hermione reaches into her memories and tugs on a particular thread of information, twisting it around her fingers and balling it up like string. She then takes it and tugs, the thoughts and knowledge of whatever it was she was forgetting evaporating into silvery mist as she draws her wand slowly from her temple. It's addictive, this feeling of power, knowing she can so easily force herself – or someone else – to forget something so basic to wizarding society as—
She cannot recall what she was trying to forget.
Hermione sets her wand down on the sink and splashes cold water on her face. She can hear the fast approaching footsteps of someone stomping up the stairs of the girl's half of the tower, but she can't imagine who it is at this hour. Parvati and Lav—
Bollocks, Hermione thinks as Lavender Brown pushes the door open, her eyes puffy and her hair a mess. Hermione reaches for her toothbrush from where it sits in a glass beside the sink. "You alright, Lavender?"
Lavender, it seems, is far from alright. Inside the loo she hiccups and pushes the door shut to not disturb their dorm mates. Hermione sets about cleaning her teeth, already bracing herself for what is sure to come. She and Ginny had realized what they'd forgotten when they'd walked up from the hospital wing an hour or so ago. No one had told Ron's girlfriend he'd been more easily. It's easy enough to blame that on Harry or on Ginny, but Hermione knows she is the one who should have through of it. She, who has seen her lover in the hospital before, she who knows what that fear tastes like.
"What?"
"Quidditch, Hermione, there's a match on tomorrow and now who is going to play Keeper with Ron in the hospital?"
Hermione blinks. She has no idea what 'quidditch' is, but she isn't about to let that on to Lavender when she's in hysterics about Ron nearly getting poisoned. She swallows, shifting her weight to her other foot. "Have you seen him?" Her attempt to change the subject goes evidently unnoticed.
"Yes. No thanks to you," Lavender snapped. "Why didn't you come and tell me he was hurt?"
"I—" Hermione sighs. "I'm sorry, Lavender. I was so upset, seeing him and not knowing if he was going to be alright – I just sort of, well, shut down."
"All well and good, since Delacour's away, you've taken Ron."
Hermione blinks. "I'm sorry?"
"You like him, Hermione. It's plain as day how you talk to each other – how you talk to me since I started seeing him. You can't stand that he and I are close!" Lavender is reaching near hysterics. Hermione desperately hopes Parvati comes in and saves her from this insanity, but she knows Parvati is with her sister in the Ravenclaw common room because she and Harry had a look at the Marauder's Map before he wandered off in search of Draco Malfoy earlier after escorting Hermione and Ginny to the stairs back to Gryffindor Tower.
A hand closes on Hermione's jumper sleeve and tugs. Lavender's face is slow close Hermione can see the smear of her make up over the breakout she'd been complaining about that morning. Her breath smells of dinner and Hermione feels so odd, being touched by another person after weeks of no contact other than her acute longing for Fleur. "Why don't you say anything, Hermione? Are you going to deny it?"
"What's to deny?" Hermione demands. "Ron is my friend. I care about him. Is that so challenging for you to understand? I'm sorry I didn't come find you. I've a lot on my mind, Lavender. Harry and Ginny came and found me while I was having it out with Pansy Parkinson over our prefect patrols – I didn't… I didn't think."
Lavender's lip curls back, and she scowls. The tears at her cheeks spill forth. "He matters to me, Hermione. So much. And I know. I just know that something terrible is happening and no one will tell me what it is. I see you three, sneaking around, talking behind that buzzing spell Harry thinks is undetectable. What you lot are planning is going to get you all killed."
Hermione wordlessly hands Lavender a towel and lets her dry her eyes. "I don't want your boyfriend, Lavender. I made a promise to Fleur."
"A promise?" Lavender asks. "I…" she falters. "I had no idea she was so traditional."
"They're an old continental family." Hermione shrugs. "Even if there wasn't such strong veela blood in Fleur's family, you and I both know there would be an element of tradition in whatever bond we formed."
"Oh, doing that too, are you, Hermione?" Lavender dries her eyes and Hermione moves out of the way of the sink so Lavender can wash her face. The line of Lavender's shoulders grows stiff. "I'm sorry," she says quietly. "I just…you're so close, all three of you. I feel like I'm on the outside looking in and that I can never be a part of what you three share."
Hermione doesn't know what to say to that, but she does understand, to some extent, what it feels like to be an outsider. She hugs Lavender as it's the only thing she can think of to do. Hugs Lavender and lets her cry.
