WRITTEN FOR QLFC, COMPETITION: CELEBRATING GOOD TIMES
TEAM: HOLYHEAD HARPIES, CHASER 2
PROMPT: PASSING AN EXAM ( + ROSE WEASLEY, + "CAN'T YOU JUST BE PROUD OF ME FOR ONCE?", + NO MALE CHARACTERS)
WORD COUNT: 2234
AN: To the Hermione fans – stick it out to the end, it's not as bad as it seems.
The very instant that the nondescript brown barn owl dropped it on the table, Rose Granger-Weasley tore open her envelope with a sense of urgency that was usually reserved solely for birthday and Christmas gifts, though this letter was certainly of at least equal importance. Having just finished her final year at Hogwarts, Rose had spent the last month alternately jumping up and down in excitement and tearing out her bushy, red hair in anxiety while anticipating the source of joy and despair for so many young witches and wizards her age. Her NEWT results.
But as soon as she finished mutilating the envelope, all of her previous energy abruptly disappeared. The golden crest of the Ministry of Magic stared back at her in mocking silence, and even the usually comforting smell of parchment instead made her want to vomit. She pushed back against the sudden bout of nausea with a steeled resolve.
'I am intelligent,' she told herself. 'I am capable.'
Rose took a deep, calming breath. 'The worst thing that can happen is that I go live with Uncle Harry and Aunt Ginny for a while,' she thought sardonically, 'At least until I can fend for myself out there.'
With the picture of Ginny's supportive smile and Harry's beaming grin at the forefront of her mind, so different from her mother's small, disappointed frowns, Rose gingerly broke the seal and slowly unfolded the letter, barely daring to breathe.
It took mere seconds to absorb the information on the page. Her father had always said that she got her quick reading speed from her mother, and that had always stung, even before Rose could understand why – that she wasn't as smart as her mother and never would be. But what stung even more were the disapproving grimaces that her mother made whenever her father compared the two of them.
Now, all it meant was that her body went cold faster and her heart dropped into her stomach deeper. It wasn't good enough. Her mother would never think it was good enough. Even Rose didn't think it was good enough.
She suddenly had a strange urge to laugh. And cry. Yes, crying sounded quite nice at that moment. Maybe some ice cream, too, or any kind of food, really. But, no. Instead, she just sat there on the sitting room sofa, her knees pulled up to her chest, rocking gently back and forth and staring at nothing.
She didn't know how much time had passed before suddenly she was shaken out of her stupor by a throat being cleared at the door.
"Mum," Rose greeted neutrally.
"Are you all right, Rose?"
"Fine," Rose answered shortly. "Got my NEWTs back."
"Oh?" Her mother came and sat next to her. "And how did you do?"
"Five Os, three EEs, and an A in History of Magic," she said sullenly.
"Oh, Rose…"
Rose's vision went red around the edges at the look that her mother was giving her.
"Stop that! Can't you just be proud of me for once?" she snapped angrily, surging to her feet and stomping across the room, "Stop looking at me like I'm not good enough! I've had it! I don't care what you think about me anymore, so you can take your supercilious bullshit and shove it!"
Her hand was already on the door handle when she heard her mother's voice.
"Wait! Rose – what? I'm not –"
"Save it!" she screamed, whirling back around. "I can see it in your eyes! The disappointment, the pity, and you know what? I don't need it! I don't need you!"
With that parting shot, she stormed out of the room, slamming the door so hard that it shook feebly in its frame. The only sounds that broke the deathly silence that filled the house were Rose's pounding footsteps, shortly followed by the whoosh of the Floo activating.
But if she had stayed even ten seconds longer, she would have seen a single tear escape her mother's eye and roll sorrowfully down her cheek.
"Am I a bad mother?" Hermione slurred miserably as she heard the door open behind her.
The approaching footsteps came to an abrupt halt.
"Well," came the dry voice of her red-headed sister-in-law, "This certainly wasn't the sight I was expecting to come home to. I was sorta hoping you'd have green eyes, darker hair, and perhaps be considerably more sober."
Hermione grumbled incoherently in response, not giving any indication that she'd heard anything that Ginny had said. "Where… where did I go wrong?"
Ginny's answer was an aggrieved sigh as she pulled out the chair next to her and plopped down, stretching her legs out beneath the kitchen table. "Well, I guess I'll have to settle for one out of three."
Before she could react, Hermione was hit by a Sobering Charm, immediately feeling the dreaded onset of sobriety. Just as she was about to take another swig out of the bottle of Firewhisky clutched to her chest, she felt it being pried out of her grasp by firm, but gentle hands.
"Damn," Hermione muttered disappointedly.
"All right," Ginny said, placing the bottle down on the table, far out of Hermione's reach, "What's crawled up your butt and got you so upset?"
Hermione stared down at her hands, which rested limply on the table before her. "Rose hates me," she spoke quietly. "My daughter hates me."
Ginny frowned. "Rose doesn't hate you, Hermione."
"You didn't see her eyes, Ginny. It was awful," she mumbled. "Why can't she see how much I love her?"
Ginny let out an unladylike snort, immediately covering her mouth in horror.
"I'm sorry, Hermione!" she squeaked. "I didn't mean to laugh, I swear!"
Hermione raised an unamused eyebrow, her existing misery easily overshadowing her mild annoyance with Ginny's outburst.
"It's just…" Ginny hesitated. "Well, you and Ron have obviously never been the best at communicating or expressing your feelings."
Hermione's brows drew together, sitting up straighter in her chair. "We're not that bad, are we? We've never had problems communicating with each other."
Ginny rolled her eyes, letting out a mirthful chuckle. "That's because you, Ron and Harry had nearly seven full years of interacting with almost no one else to develop your own mysterious, socially awkward way of understanding each other. Literally. It's actually kinda creepy sometimes."
After several moments of silence, Hermione slowly nodded her head.
"I guess you're right. Neither me nor Harry had any friends before we met each other, and we were both bullied at Muggle school. Our social skills have always been a bit stunted."
"Right, Merlin knows how long I spent prying him open," Ginny mused. "And Ron's always been a bit thick. What was it that Harry told me you said? Emotional range of a teaspoon?"
A genuine smile finally broke through Hermione's anguished mien. "Our fifth year," she smiled fondly.
Ginny rolled her eyes and snorted. "Yes, and as much as you'd hate to admit it, you're not much better."
Hermione opened her mouth to protest, but was promptly cut off.
"What exactly was it that makes you think that Rose hates you?"
Ignoring the obvious change in topic, Hermione thought back to Rose's outburst before she stormed out of the house, her expression darkening as her daughter's words replayed in her head.
"She… I think she thinks that I see her as a disappointment, that she's not good enough for me."
A look of understanding dawned on Ginny's face. "Ah. I see."
Hermione's despair quickly changed into anger. "And what's that supposed to mean?"
"Calm down, Hermione," chided Ginny. "Yelling at me isn't going to get you anywhere."
Several deep breaths later, Hermione reluctantly nodded for Ginny to continue.
"Did you know that Harry used to have the same problem?"
Hermione frowned in confusion. "What problem?"
The look that Ginny gave her made her feel smaller than when she'd been held like a doll in Grawp's enormous grasp.
"He struggled to accept that he's a smart man in his own right because he'd always been overshadowed and intimidated by your intelligence."
"What?! But –"
"No, Hermione, listen. I love you, seriously, but you have a bad habit of talking about books and esoteric research and other things that most people don't understand or have any interest in."
Hermione paused with her mouth open, tilting her head in thought. "Huh. I guess I do."
"And do you do that with Rose?"
Hermione flushed as she looked down at her lap. "I just… academics are really the only thing that we share. You know how I feel about Quidditch and Wizarding games, things she both inherited a passion for from her father. I used to just think that she liked Ron more because she had more in common with him, but now… But anyway, I'm glad that she's popular, and not too much like I was, but I have no idea how to relate to her network of acquaintances –"
"Really, Hermione? Network of acquaintances?"
Hermione plowed on, unimpeded. "And she's so bright, and she can keep up with my rambling more than even Ron can, and I just wanted something in common with her that I could do with her."
Ginny frowned. "Okay, now I'm confused. If you think she's so bright, then why does she think that you think the exact opposite?"
Hermione bit her lip. "Rose got her NEWT results back today."
Ginny nodded. "So did Al, but I still don't quite understand how that resulted in me finding you slumped on my kitchen table, pissed out of your mind."
Hermione shook her head. "I'm not really too sure, either. She passed all nine of her NEWTs – that's better than any of us did – but like always, she seemed so sad about it. Next thing I knew, she was screaming at me and Flooing out of the house."
Ginny raised an eyebrow, beginning to put the pieces together in her head. "Did you… congratulate her? Celebrate?"
Hermione furrowed her eyebrows. "It felt wrong to be happy when she was so upset about it, almost like laughing at a funeral."
"Hermione," Ginny admonished gently, "When you try to match the mood of the room, you're just making her think that you're as disappointed as she is."
"Really?" Hermione frowned. "But why? Doesn't she know how proud of her I am?"
"Do you ever tell her that you are?"
Hermione's cheeks warmed. "Well, maybe not in so many words…"
Ginny let her forehead drop and thud against the table, muttering under her breath. "Hopeless."
Rose stared blankly, taking in nothing in front of her face.
She had come to find Al, but he was out, so she'd settled for 'borrowing' the Potter Invisibility Cloak so she could sneak into a pub and drink her sorrows away.
She'd never, not in her wildest dreams, expected to come back downstairs to her mother sobbing into a half-empty bottle of Firewhisky. Rose had still been deciding whether to shed the Cloak and investigate or to ignore her mother entirely and leave her alone, when the front door opened. Her mother showed no signs of noticing and only finally spoke when Aunt Ginny entered the kitchen.
And thus began the most eye-opening, life-changing, and earth-shattering conversation that she had ever borne witness to. Suddenly, up was down, left was blue, and Rose was dizzy. Her head spun as she stared at nothing, which was becoming a concerningly frequent activity for her.
Everything she had ever thought she'd known was being cast in a new light. Her mother's nagging about academics was a desperation for something that they could talk about. Her unhappiness when Rose got her test scores was from seeing her daughter so upset.
Even the reprehensive frowns that marred her face whenever her father compared the two of them were directed at him, not Rose, because her mother thought his comments would make Rose want to be like her. How could she not have seen it sooner? Her mother had told her all about her childhood, how she was ostracised and bullied and had no life outside of her books, how she'd not had a single friend until she met Rose's father and Uncle Harry.
How hadn't she made the connection?
Rose scoffed to herself. 'Bright, my arse.'
Quickly coming to a decision, Rose threw off the Invisibility Cloak and leapt to her feet, causing her mother to jump in surprise and Aunt Ginny to shoot her a knowing look.
"Come on, Mum," Rose declared, "We're leaving!"
Her mother allowed herself to be dragged from her seat, her head swivelling in bewilderment. "Wha– Rose? What are–"
"Silence, Silly Woman!" Rose interrupted. "We must away to celebrate!"
Ginny covered her mouth to stifle a giggle.
"Celebrate?" Hermione repeated dumbly, still getting over her shock at Rose's sudden appearance. "Right, of course, it's–"
"Yes, yes, it's a big day for me, Mother," Rose exclaimed, still giddy about – well – everything, really.
As she dragged her mother over to the Floo, she heard a voice out behind her, "Have fun, you two!"
Rose glanced over her shoulder as she took a pinch of Floo powder from the mantle. "Bye, Aunt Ginny! And thanks for the Firewhisky!"
And sure enough, when the duo disappeared in a flash of green flames, Ginny's disgruntled gaze found an empty kitchen table.
"Bugger."
