Consequences of Falling

Ch. 16

It felt something akin to a dream - like it hadn't happened at all. Hermione stood in the shower and let the hot water snake its way down to her feet. Was she mad? No… She couldn't bring herself to be mad when she had been asking for it. Was it consensual? That was the difficult one to answer; somewhat yes, and somewhat no. She wanted it, she needed to feel something, but she did still wish it hadn't been with her. All the while she replayed it in her mind and when she closed her eyes she felt Minerva's hand slipping between denim and her stomach. It would be just like them to fuck in the middle of a fight and hope for the best. Where had the love gone? For so long now, Hermione had been set on fire. She thrashed and bolstered herself into a position where a tantrum was a befitting excuse. Seeing red - there was nothing beyond that.

A switch had been flipped where her body and mind told her enough was enough. The train left the station the minute she woke up beside Rolanda and decided that she would take her childhood friend's words to heart. She had been doing fine, fine enough to try and have a genuine discussion, which fell apart despite her intentions. If it had just been about school, the curriculum, the weather… She imagined that it would have gone swimmingly. But, no. Because of the estrangement and the fact that neither of them could let the past be left behind, her more so than anyone, it turned into everything that could have possibly gone wrong. Hermione felt herself start to understand the cause and effect - She'd grown surly, unapproachable, unpredictable… And the people around her lost trust. At the end of the day, she could hardly blame them for it.

As brilliant as Hermione might have been on paper, with her long list of accomplishments and capabilities, she was still incredibly human; susceptible to letting the worst get the very best of her. For nearly ten years, she'd done just that… With a pleasant break in between when Amelia was still around. Yet, she'd never made a full recovery, not even within that time with the blond's urging. Rather than let herself feel what was necessary and move forward from it, rather than go through the typical motions, she remained in the thick of the storm for so long that she got comfortable there. No growth, no end to it. That was up until now. There was a light at the end of the tunnel and she could see it. A spark, really. Nothing tangible yet, but a vague glow. Finding that she no longer wanted to be the source of someone else's pain - that she undoubtedly had become for the people she pushed well enough away, out of sight, out of mind -, she realized, in that time, she had never been able to creep away from their thoughts. Even after all that had passed.

After a while, the woman climbed out of the shower and away from her place of thinking, got dressed, and continued on with her day until sun down. She did exactly as Minerva suggested she should do and went to Rolanda, apologized for the way she had made the woman feel, explained herself in the fullest, without telling the woman about what had happened atop the Astronomy Tower. It wasn't her business, and it was not her moment to share. It took some time and a very uncomfortable conversation, however, Rolanda apologized as well for leaving so abruptly - her own reasoning being that she didn't want to fight with the young woman. She hated fighting, she hated being uncomfortable, and didn't want things to get even more so blown out of proportion. They made up. And that was that.
The world returned to a normal state where Minerva avoided Hermione, Hermione didn't really try and prod her for explanation, and Rolanda remained her one stability within Hogwarts walls.

All the while, through correspondence, Molly and Hermione began to heal their relationship, as did she with Ron. Harry and Ginny began to pop up in the back of her mind more frequently as the letters began to detail the dynamic couple more. Neither of whom had reached out, although she had never made herself available for them to do so. Molly suggested that she come over for breakfast on August 31st, the day before all students set off on the Hogwarts Express to begin the new school year. Despite the fact the children were not quite yet old enough to receive their Hogwarts letters, it was tradition that everyone gather around at breakfast before the school year. And the kids, now fully grown and with children of their own, continued this. She admitted that she didn't want to interfere with family time and disclosed this in the returned letter. The day hadn't even ended before a reply came back by owl to dispel any discomfort Hermione might have had. She folded over the letter many times, her eyes unable to stop returning to one line in particular: Your godson would love to see you, and your niece and nephew too.

James, Albus, and Lily were not her blood, but they were hers. When they were born, despite her being otherwise unhinged, she had still brought herself to be in the room under Ginevra's request. Harry had a difficult time seeing his wife in such pain, she, too, didn't want him to see her go through the utterly painstaking act of bringing his children into the world, so Hermione had held her hand and dabbed her forehead. She held James before Harry did, ensuring that her link was made and that that boy was forever stamped on her heart. Back in the days where there could have been a moment where she could have turned her life around, back when she still teetered on surviving or letting the walls cave in, she turned her back after a few years and fell further down the rabbit hole… And missed that opportunity. Molly wrote It's never too late. Despite the hopefulness of the phrase, Hermione was left wondering if that was still true.

After warring with herself for many hours, Hermione accepted the invitation. She awoke early that morning and laid out a plaid shirt for herself, a pair of fitted denim jeans, and her boots. She took a lengthy shower, in which she pondered the remains of the day, and how she would approach her friends. She was terrified of them, if she had to be honest. Disappointment cut deeper than raised voices and thrown hands. The kids? Would they run from her, act strange in her presence? Would they remember the good times? Who could say.

Dressing, keeping her shirt untucked, she looked at herself in the mirror as she laced up her shoes. The feeling of dread didn't pass or lessen, but it was manageable. Straightening up and walking over to the reflective glass, she raised her hands and shook out her hair, styling it somewhat by running her hand back and to the side, letting it cascade and part, giving herself a side swept look. Warmth… She wanted to give herself warmth. Through the castle, strolling with her leather jacket in hand, she passed no one. It was quiet and early, but not early enough to avoid everyone. In front of the Great Hall, she paused, voices reverberating off stone. There the staff ate and enjoyed the last day of freedom before having to return to full blown preparation the following day, when students would be filing into the school to be taught - standing there for that brief moment, she accepted this as her future for an indefinite amount of time. Green eyes met hers, yellow ones, blue ones… Hermione lifted her hand and offered a wave of greeting, and goodbye, before continuing out the castle and into morning light.

Hagrid tended to his gardens, she saw it in the distance as she grew nearer to the man's hut, and where her bike was stored. Upon arrival, he gave a wave but didn't stop working. She returned it and called her Good morning. It felt almost… Routine. Like, over the course of a couple months, she had nothing but to give in to the newness - the raw being replaced by numb complacency.

Before long the woman was speeding off into morning, becoming nothing more than a speck against the dome of blue overhead. With good intentions and nothing more than the hopes that she could manage to keep herself held tightly together, she allowed herself a minute of grace. It could have been worse, so much worse, and she could be lost forever. But with the willingness of her friends, and their efforts, she believed that maybe she could find normalcy. She had to… If there ever was a chance that she could go back and work for the Ministry, if she could regain some of what she thought she'd lost, she had to take her own drastic measures.

_~*MMHG*~_

"So, you've had a conversation." Minerva tucked her hands into the pockets of her black trousers and gave her friend a look, the tea and toast in her stomach hardly having the opportunity to settle before they set out for a walk.

"We tried to have a conversation, but like anyone would be able to suspect I went off, she went off, and we landed ourselves right back at square one." Deliberately, Minerva avoided the whole truth. Needing to come to terms with what had happened took precedence before trying to explain it. How could she explain to Rolanda, now, that she had taken a moment of passion too far and in broad daylight… The thought was too difficult to continue. It was to remain private.

"But she was willing to have a conversation…" Rolanda pointed out as they stepped down the cobble steps and out onto the grounds. "That is more than we could have hoped for."

More than could have been hoped for… Indeed. Minerva berated herself in the confines of her head and wondered what work she'd utterly destroyed. If any.

"The year begins tomorrow and she and I are still at odds, how could you consider this to be remotely ideal?" Mumbled the headmistress miserably, her brows knitted.

"Did you really expect to undo a decades worth of what-have-you in two months? A bit presumptuous, I feel." Bristled the silver haired woman in turn, a brow lifting, questioningly, as she appraised the woman strolling casually beside her - as casual as one could be when stiff with discomfort, that is. Reply came in the form of an unusually informal grunt and a shake of the head.

She would have taken back all of it, the arguing and the climax of those thrown words. She could have done away with her temper in that moment to have just another chance to offer the sort of understanding she should have conveyed. Unfortunately, this wasn't to be the case. Instead, morning dew soaked into her leather toed shoes, and she walked alongside her companion without much more of a word. Rolanda didn't push her for more and, for that, she was thankful. Selfishness aside, of course she had been hoping for more. It seemed as the weeks drew ever onward, the more she pushed, the thicker the walls Hermione constructed. Rightly so, considering.

_~*MMHG*~_

"The Ministry will be just fine, we're always looking internally to promote, as you know…" Harry said by way of explanation while raising his cup of tea to his lips. His wife leaned into the crook of his shoulder and side, tucking herself further under his arm.

"The Department of Mysteries is a large task, dear. It wouldn't surprise me if they outsourced." She stated after a moment, her attention caught between the conversation and watching the kids play on the large, patterned rug on the floor.

"Whatever they do, better make it fast… If anyone knew that that… man was involved in the awful resistance... " Molly shook her head, taken for a moment by the sheer gravity of the information. "It would be a terrible shock. I'm surprised the Daily Prophet hasn't run a full story yet."

Harry sighed heavily. There was always a chance that that would be the case, fortunately nothing had come to pass yet, however, it was still a worry. If news had broken out about someone internal having anything to do with the attacks as of late, it would lead only to hysteria that wasn't warranted. They had it under control.

"Be sure that Kingsley would hardly let a story like that run. I'm sure he's been instrumental in it being kept incredibly quiet. Full media black out…" Ron would have continued had it not been for a distant rumbling catching his attention. He wasn't the only one, as the sound began to swell outside. The children stopped their playing and looked at their mother and father. Instinctively, Ginny and Harry withdrew their wands.

"What in the devil is that?" Arthur, who had barely spoken a word that day, rose gingerly from his preferred, comfy chair in the corner.

Tires found purchase on dry dirt road, leaving a cloud of dust in their wake. Lily, James, and Albus crowded around the window, their small eyes squinting to see who was coming up the drive. In a moment, as soon as the bike, and its rider, became just slightly more visible, and with their parents and uncle standing behind them, James gasped.

"It's Aunt Hermione…" He whispered fast, before he found his voice. "IT'S AUNT HERMIONE!" As Lilly squealed and Albus's small hands found his mom's jumper, James broke from the pack at a run, out through the kitchen and through the back door, his father's voice trailing behind him.

The brunette breaked by the garden, the heel of her boot hooking the kick stand. She only just had a moment to stand when the call of a young boy alerted her to the presence of her godson. It was like a scene that she had read in fiction as a child herself - a long lost friend coming home to the sight of family welcoming with open arms.

"My boy…" All pain, all anguish, fell from her shoulders like a heavy, wool cloak at the vision of the child running fast as a shot across the yard. He jumped into her arms and nearly bowled them both over, his smaller ones squeezing around her neck fiercely as she caught hold of his frame. "Oh, my boy, it's okay."

She could feel him crying in her arms, his lungs filling with air that he could catch quickly enough. In the distance, the Weasley's and the Potter's strolled, Lily and Albus in their arms. Hermione held James and strolled to meet them, his weight an easy one to bear.

"You finally made it." Ginny stated in close range, her blue eyes scouring the elder witches features. Her tone was welcoming, but laced with reservation. Their relationship hadn't quite been the same as it once had.

"I.." Hermione hadn't thought so far as to rehearse a friendly greeting. She fumbled. Her hand rubbed over the back of her godson soothingly, whilst her eyes bounced from face to face. Harry's expression was schooled, Molly and Aurther looked pink faced, but pleased, and Ron… Ron could only muster a smirk. "I… got lost. I'm trying."

Vulnerability never came easy. It wasn't easy to admit a failure. And a failure to connect was only partial to many other sins.

The morning air was always sobering, still, as much as she would have liked to remain severe, stoic, in the cool breeze, she could feel her eye lashing catching moisture.

"Well, you're home now," Molly clapped her hands together and immediately found her way to the brunette's side, her arm then anchoring itself around the younger woman's back. "I think it's high time we eat, before the sausages and potatoes get cold." Hermione found herself steered forward by the motherly arm around her, and she took steps along with the rest toward the Burrow.

_~*MMHG*~_

Coffee and tea, toast and eggs, sausages and potatoes; a breakfast fit for an army. It wasn't until they were getting ready to take their seats around the large family table that James peeled himself from his godmother but he didn't leave her side, even after his father asked if he wanted to sit himself down next to his brother, the boy declined with a shake of the head. Harry seemed to pass Hermione a glance of questioning, she mouthed it's fine. And so beside her he sat at breakfast.

"So, Hogwarts, teaching, how are you managing?" Arthur asked as they began to fill their plates. The brunette woman turned her head to meet his gaze.

"It's… Like I never left, although I probably have never used the pitch as much as I have these past few months."

"Flying?" Albus seemed to perk as he asked. A slight curl caught the corner of Hermione's lips.

"Running, exercising." Albus nodded, masking his slight disappointment.

"Would have never caught you with a drip of sweat in our day." Ron joked as he shoveled a fork of egg into his mouth. She shot him a look.

"I hardly needed to, my figure was pristine. But I'm older now and a figure does require some upkeep." She replied, without any implication that, really, physical strength had always been the aim.

"Could take notes, dear." Arthur chuckled, warranting a slap in the shoulder from his wife.

"Have you taken to anyone? Made some friends among the staff?" Molly questioned as a mother would, worried about loneliness and alienation considering the post was so new. It was like being asked if she was making acquaintances of fellow pupils, being treated kindly by the other kids.

"I'm sure she's doing just fine, regardless." Ginny stated quietly, still not quite entertaining any thought of being chummy. Unbeknownst, Harry gave her ankle a small kick under the table.

"Rolanda," Hermione answered, her eyes trained on the younger ginger woman seated across the table. Ginny peered only at her plate, where she forked a piece of sausage. "Madame Hooch and I have grown very close, she… is an excellent running partner."

"Hell of a spitfire, too." Ronald added, to which Arthur conferred with a soft grunt through his toast.

"Excuse me," Ginny dropped her fork and abruptly rose from her seat. "I'll be back in a moment." The young woman squeezed her daughter and husband's shoulders in passing and retreated from the kitchen, the stairs creaking under the weight of her feet.

Hermione's lips pursed, her hunger subsiding as quickly as it had woken by the scent of the home cooked meal.

"Don't mind her, Hermione… She's been… Having a few moments lately." Harry quietly informed as Molly and Arthur passed glances. Behind closed doors, there had been a mixture of fire and ice. Ron knew enough of it to let it go, remain silent, but there grew an uncomfortable tension. There was bound to be something to shift the mood back.

After a few seconds of consideration, Hermione squeezed James to her side and pressed her lips to his hair.

"I'll be back down in a few minutes." She told him. He almost seemed to hesitate, but nodded.

"You don't have to go after her, dear…"

"It's quite alright." Hermione interjected, her features relaxing into a small, uncomfortable smile. She rose from the table and left the kitchen, turning into the living room and through to the stairs. Taking a steadying breath, she ascended to find Ginny and to see what the fuss was. Not that the woman hadn't any good reason to be fussed. Perhaps, that wasn't the word… Ginny was bothered. Bothered by her, maybe? Bothered by the way she just showed up, out of the blue, without word? At least, no word to her.

Up one flight, then another, and one more… There, while passing a bedroom, Ginny stood in front of a window, leaning against its frame. Her head turned at the sound of footsteps and turned once again to view the forest skirting the property at the sight of the brunette woman standing in the middle of the doorway. Chocolate brown eyes shifted from the figure and peered around the room, Ginny's room, where little, if anything, had changed in those many years.

"I said I'd be down in a minute."

"I know you did." Ginny's cool voice was met with one not in equal measure. Hermione remained relaxed, a strong will to remain undaunted by the reception egging her on to enter into the bedroom and take a seat on the edge of the other womans' childhood bed. Ginny made no move other than to turn her back against the side of the window frame and eye Hermione with an ounce of suspicion.

The silence fell and laid there for a few moments.

"Are you still drinking?" She asked after a beat.

"Not today." Hermione answered with a sigh.

"Are you quitting that stuff?" The red head pushed on.

"I want to try."

"Trying is only a good enough promise this far, eventually, you have to say you are done." The air was thick with mistrust, the elder witch felt it seep into her skin and chill her bones.

"I am trying, Ginevra…"

"I trusted you… With everything I have trusted you, you were supposed to be the best of us… Stronger than Harry, than Ron, and I understand that you have had your trials but… If you're going to try and be a part of this family, I need promises from you," Ginny stated, the severity of her tone causing Hermione to feel the need to shrink. "If not for me, or Molly and Arthur, but for James."

"He's grown so much…" Hermione found herself musing aloud, her elbows landing on her knees as she laced her fingers together. Ginny released a breath.

"You have no idea how many times he has asked after you, where you are, why you haven't been around… And Amelia."

"She's everywhere here, you know… She's at the kitchen table, weeding in the garden, playing with Lily on the rug… I sit and I can see her clearly living and breathing here, which makes it… Difficult." Hermione admitted. They had spent so much time with the Weasley's when she was starting to return to her best, her lover had grounded her in that way. She began to accept the things she could not change and start to feel alive herself again. "How would you feel if you lost Harry? Then again… You would have his reflection in your children's eyes, wouldn't you? I had places and things…"

"What sort of honor do you think you are giving her memory by living your life in the way that you have been? All that good she gave you, I could see that, we could see it, and you.. Just threw it away."

"Ginevra…"

"Tell me that I'm wrong." Being challenged wasn't exactly what Hermione had had in mind that morning. Although, in truth, she hadn't known what to expect at all. As heat rose in her cheeks, Hermione lifted herself from the edge of the bed and closed some of the divide between herself and her old friend. She lifted her hands and placed them on Ginny's upper arms, which folded defensively.

"I am so, so sorry that I haven't been as good a friend to you as I should have been, I am sorry that I haven't been there for you when you may have needed me and that I have remained ignorant… but I do love you and Harry, and the kids, and your brother and parents, so much that it hurts me sometimes," She spoke with tendernest, having only the most earnest wish to bury the hatchet and move forward, in anyway that they could - for now. "And I will not allow myself to hurt you in the ways that I now realize I must have by my ignorance and my distance again. I promise you… I will be better."

Ginny's eyes grew watery but her features didn't tremble, rather her shoulders gave way. The brunette searched the younger woman's face for signs of acceptance, thinking Please, Merlin… let this be the end of it, please.. Let us put it to rest.

"That's all I wanted from you… An honest apology." The redheaded witch muttered as she let her arms fall and embrace the scarred brunette standing in front of her. Hermione let herself feel embraced, knowing that the majority of her wasn't simply paying lip service. She did want to remedy parts of her life, maybe even feel a bit more whole again. Against her shoulder she heard, "You stupid woman, you will never know how much you are loved… I wish you could."

TBC