"I'm going out with some friends this weekend," Ginny mentioned casually the next night over supper. "I think you should come."
They'd baked a mince pie with fluffy mashed potatoes and roasted squash. It was a ritual meal. They both ate it when they needed to remember the good days at Hogwarts before shit turned ugly. Hermione was the one who needed it since the office was still a mess, and her new coworkers weren't so keen to welcoming her.
She was lucky the MA&C ran so smoothly without constant supervision since she was about five months behind in paperwork the office greatly needed. It was a travesty how bad it was.
It was close to eight. She ached from a day bent over papers. It was nice to work with House Elves. The interviews were often at their places of employment, which gave her some time outside of a windowless office. Now, all she did was work and come home to sleep and pray Cormac wasn't lurking.
Hermione sipped from a glass of white wine. It gently bubbled against her tongue.
"Oh. No, thank you," she said.
"Come on. You never do anything," Ginny whined. "We used to go have fun. You used to be fun, adventurous."
Hermione lifted a brow.
Ginny shrugged. "Relatively. Remember when we had a broom race over to France at like three in the morning after drinking fire whiskey all day?"
"You dropped me into the channel!"
"Yeah, but we still won, didn't we?" Ginny paused. "And wasn't it fun? Fun that you look back on and smile, or laugh. When was the last time you did anything that remotely made you smile?"
Hermione started to answer but Ginny raised a finger.
"Without someone who was a House Elf," she added.
That was tough. There was no answer she could give.
Ginny watched her in the silence, awaiting an answer she already knew. They'd known each other too long for all the pretense that there was a happy time the other wasn't present for.
"That's what I thought," she finally said. "Come out on Saturday. It'll be fun."
"I don't know, Gin. I'm really swamped at work. I don't want to be fighting off a hangover while dealing with all that paperwork."
Another round of wine was poured into their flutes and they moved into the kitchen, done with their meal. They waved their wands to clean up the mess, putting everything back in place and clean, and moved into their living room.
It was a gray room with dark wood accents, a champagne gold and lilac decorated the space. There was a Muggle TV since Hermione refused to leave the flat for any kind of entertainment. One entire corner of the space was dedicated to books as a reading corner, for Hermione's personal amusement again. The building they lived in was close to a Muggle gym that Ginny used, and a place where she could easily Apparate to practice. It suited them best.
Their modern lifestyle was often off putting to the rest of the magical community who were used to their dated sense of living, magic as their main source of anything. Ginny and Hermione were modern women. They embraced both worlds, though awkward for Ginny at first since she had no experience. However, the time they spent with Hermione's parents aided her into understanding more of their world and embracing it as a good way to live with their magic rather than either or.
Ginny's family was not so impressed with the decision. It was hard enough to be apart after…his death and now, Ginny was leaving their world behind or so they felt. Things with the Weasley's were tense.
Ron and George tried to be supportive, but they were left battling with their own siblings and family. It hurt. It hurt Ginny the most, but with everything to remind her of Harry, she was left feeling a visitor inside her own life, her family.
"Hermione, I've been meaning to talk to you about something," Ginny said, "and I think it's the time."
Hermione playfully smacked her arm. "Gin. You can always talk to me, you know that."
"Well, it's just been hard to since… the Battle of Hogwarts. Since him. At first it was okay because it felt like you were dealing, moving on, and helping me through everything. But now."
"Now?" Hermione asked.
Ginny shifted in her seat. "You're not yourself. You stay inside, avoid everybody, just work yourself to death like a punishment. Like you want to punish yourself for everything. I get why you can't be around my family, believe me I get it, but now you don't want to be around life."
"Work is my life, Ginny. I can't just abandon it."
"No, that's just it. Work isn't your life. It isn't you. You like things. You like to explore and learn, and see, and talk to people, and outwit everybody. Our friends from the old days ask about you and the only thing I can say is that you've got a new job, or you were behind that House Elves bill. That's it!"
Hermione took a long gulp of wine. It tasted so beautiful. The heavy weight of their meal settled against her tongue, and the wine lightly brushed it away.
It tasted of momentary sadness. She remembered. Their lives during the war, before the war, all of it. The very ruin of her existence was those memories that kept her up at night, ached her very soul.
"I just, can't see our old friends. It reminds me so much," Hermione answered softly, almost a whimper. "Their faces make me think about it all, how much I've lost, and I just can't. It unravels me every time."
Ginny set down her flute against the coffee table, sure to avoid the most recent Witch Weekly, and rubbed her hand against Hermione's back with a sad smile. "You need to let yourself be happy. It isn't doing you any good like this. Besides, you don't just have a set number of friends. New friends. New adult friends. They're the best! That's why I invited you. They aren't old friends. It's a completely friendless night out with some people I currently hang out with and really, really want you to be a part of."
It sounded suspicious. "Cormac isn't apart of them, is he?"
Ginny laughed. Her red hair fell from behind her ear and brushed across her face. Hermione froze in a memory that clouded her eyes with tears. She quickly pushed them back so Ginny didn't see.
"No, the pervert won't be there. This isn't exactly his crowd."
She perked up at the news. No Cormac's crowd? That sounded promising.
"A crowd that wouldn't accept Cormac sounds like a great bunch." She smiled.
Friends. How much she'd like some. Without Ron and Harry, it hurt her everyday to know they weren't part of each other's lives anymore. There was a great void. That's what made her aching and remembering get worse. The loss of everything, everyone was so great.
Ginny eyed her closely. "They are, if you've got an open mind. A bit rowdy. Cormac hates them, actually, Put him in his place like the first second he showed up and now he refuses to be around them, won't even come around me if I've been hanging with them. Such a prissy. Says I smell like them. Ha!"
The way her best friend laughed it made Hermione feel…safe. A bit happy. Life was so hectic, especially since the war ended, and there was hardly time to relax and connect. She didn't know why. It happened so easily. The war changed Ginny into a mature woman, so strong, understanding and relatable, but home.
She was home.
And, for one thing, Ginny was a smart woman in advice. Taking it? No. But giving it, she was excellent. She was the best at getting some turned around. Perhaps it was time that Hermione turned around.
"Say you'll come," she pleaded. "I've told them all you're going to. They're curious about you, you know. Plus, they're a great hang."
Hermione swallowed. "They want to hang out with me?"
"Of course, they do. Why wouldn't they?"
"I'm a government official. The official buzz kill."
The wine refilled in their empty glasses. Heads, yet to swim with the lovely feeling of a buzz.
"You don't mean that, love." Ginny squeezed her knee for reassurance.
There was a flicker of sadness in her eyes. She watched it curled back behind. God, she looked so much like her brother.
"It's true."
Hermione frowned.
"You're awesome. Hermione fucking Granger. That girl is the farthest thing from a buzz kill," Ginny said proudly. "You're my best friend. How could you say you're a buzz kill? I would never let you be one of those, even if you were, but you aren't. You kicked Voldemort's ass. You took him to the grave, all the men and shitty people who wanted to kill the world. You did that!"
"Harry did that," Hermione said.
"Like he would have ever made it without you. You were the brains. You kept those two boys together, kept their heads on straight. Don't ever undervalue yourself like that. Don't measure yourself to that shit. That's going to keep you down. No, you've got to stand up. Take credit for who you are. Hermione Granger, bad ass bitch who took down Death Eaters and freed the House Elves from slavery."
The rest of the night was in quiet remembrance of how awesome they'd been back when their wands were used for more deadly things than accio. The bottle was gone by the end of the night. Not that they felt it. Hermione wished she could feel it. It would have made the rest of the night better, when she laid in bed and thought of the days past that left her an empty shell.
But there was a small piece of hope. Not that big. She didn't hold out that new friends would pan out; she didn't voice how doubtful she was. There was no way she was missing the chance. The chance to change herself, get out of the rut she'd found herself in without even realizing.
Five years. It was five years when things ended. The war. The battle. Their friendship. The love.
Five years since Harry went all batshit, and Ron was glued to his side for support like a mindless drone. Five years since her beloved, the one she was meant to be with forever, the one she pictured a future with and babies, the one, the one, the one gone from her life without a shred of anything.
Hermione fell into a listless sleep of red headed babies all filled with laughter, running around a beautiful open field of cordgrass. She dreamed of their beautiful smiles and tall man hoisting them high into the air with a trick or two to make them believe they flew.
She marched into the office that day with determination. Two days. It was two days until she made some new friends, and there was much to work on before then.
"Morning," her assistant greeted her, not even looking up from his work.
Already, she was bothered.
"Good morning, Mark." She handed over her cloak. "What is on my agenda for today?"
A big book slammed against the desk. Mark took his time to find the date, running his finger down a list.
"Uh, briefings. Briefings. The committee of Muggle excuses is meeting. You don't have to be present but - ."
"Of course, I'll be in attendance. I'd like to stay updated when anything like that meets in this department," Hermione stated with as much firmest as she could muster without yelling. "I'd like progress reports all on my desk in the morning before I arrive, most urgent on top. My schedule should be read to me at the start of each day. Each supervisor needs to give me daily updates, meeting once per week."
Mark looked up from his desk. The sigh he expelled made Hermione want to raise her hand to slap him.
Instead, she waved him off to gather the required reports and entered her office. It still stank of smoke. Cleaning crew wouldn't be able to get inside until the weekend. She couldn't wait. Cigarette smoke tainted her hair with an odd smell. It made her gag.
The day passed with many interruptions. Supervisors met with Hermione in regards to their prospective duties, and their attitudes were entirely wrong. All were men old enough to be her father with a shitty disposition toward her seniority over them. Only one seemed to be slightly non-offensive.
The push and pull of the government bullshit continued the entire week, leaving her wiped by the time Friday rolled around. When she came into the flat and plopped onto the couch, most of her mind was numb to pretty much everything. She didn't notice the sound of Ginny's rising voice coming from her bedroom until it slapped her in the face.
"I can't believe you!" She screamed. "How can you even say that to me?"
"Well you've got to come around sometime. We're your family. Can't ignore us forever, can you?" The voice yelled back. She recognized it as Ron's. It stirred her deeply and made her ache.
She froze on the couch, unable to move. Ron was here. It was like a blast up from inside her soul, a mind shattering memory. No, there was nowhere to go.
There was a strong slam, the bathroom door of Ginny's room most likely. It frightened Hermione even more than Ron's voice. Ginny wasn't over emotional unless it came to one thing.
Oh, this was not good.
"You all worship him. I'm not even a welcome party at my own family home, by my own brothers because you're all so hung up on Harry!"
Ginny was angry. In a rage, by the breaking of her voice.
"We owe it to him," Ron said. "He did save us. The entire world. You remember, that don't you?"
There was a groan of frustration. "That was years ago. We're all moving past that. Not hung up on that savior complexion you all have, up his goddamn ass. He used me, made me a mess and you all wanted me to beg for his forgiveness when he was the one in the wrong. He was the one that ruined me. And you still worship the ground he walks on! You're my family, my older brother. Everything was taken away from me because of that man."
Ron sharply exhaled. "You're stubborn, Ginny. So stubborn. You're tearing the family apart. Mum's out of sorts with all this. Breaks her heart every time we come knowing you aren't walking through that door."
"You know my terms," she said stiffly. "I won't be there when he's there. I won't be the sacrifice for you to all remain in the good graces."
"The war messed him up, Ginny. It's war."
Hermione remained still. She wished they'd stop. Stop all of it.
She pushed her fingers against her temples, pushing out their noise, all the memories. Make it stop.
"No. Don't you do that. Don't use that excuse. War fucked us all up. Hermione is fucked up. Actually. She's the one who needed your support, not Harry. Harry made his mistakes, and you guys chose him. Him over me and her."
Suddenly her bedroom door swung open. Both figures came bursting out, red hair a blur. Ginny followed Ron's heels, cherry red face. Her freckles almost glowed in anger.
They walked into the living room, dropping their guard the moment they saw the petrified form of Hermione slumped on the couch. Their faces turned from fury to shame. Ginny tucked a strand of hair behind her ear.
"Hey, love. I didn't hear you come home," she said.
Ginny and Ron shared a worried look. Hermione didn't respond. She was frozen to the couch, trapped by the panic of their voices, their words.
Ron shoved his hands down into his jean pockets. "We didn't bother you, Mione, did we?"
"No," Hermione snipped. "No. Not at all."
Ginny looked down with uncertainty that only a sister, a best friend, would understand. "We didn't mean to be overheard. Ron just sort of barged in."
"I didn't barge."
"You weren't invited," his sister hissed. "This is our home. Our life. You can't do this to us."
Ron looked conflicted. He wanted to respond, mouth open and all, but stared down at his friend and the torture upon her face. It was an obvious turmoil under his skin.
He'd aged since the war. The lines in the corners of his eyes made him look older than twenty-two. Years of stress, especially since Harry's breakdown, added up against him in a harsh light. The way he looked was the tired expression of a man past his prime, in a wonder at when the world would just stop.
Hermione missed that carefree man she'd grown up with. He was the happy one. So positive.
He was a shell. They all were at this point.
"We want you back, both of you." It was soft but firm. They knew who it came from, and how much of a request it wasn't.
Ginny reared her head like a mini-Molly, but Hermione dared not mention it.
"This isn't up for discussion, Ron."
Ron glanced down at Hermione. "Come home. Please. We aren't whole, and neither are you guys."
In a sudden flush of motion, Ginny latched onto his arm with her lengthy fingers and gripped until his flesh turned red. She yanked him away talking in hushed tones, though easy for Hermione to hear. At least she tried to be private.
"I'm not going to stand by and let you manipulate her like that. She isn't a toy for you or for Mum." It was spoken through gritted teeth. "She's worked so hard to get this far. It's not your place to come and wreck that all because you can't stand by your choices."
"Yeah, but it wasn't her choice. She's got different reasons than you, don't she?"
Ginny kept her clasp on him. "Don't you fucking dare."
"It's selfish of you, Ginny. She needs her family."
"Don't you see her over there?" She pointed her finger at the couch. "She is like this because you're here. You're reminding her of everything, Harry included. You smug bastard. It's all of you."
Hermione felt a sudden rush of slick in her mouth and dashed out of the room to make it in time to the toilet, just as the heated spew came out. It hunched her body over in waves of strength like dark magic. She was a prisoner to its power as it surged out like Voldemort's very revenge of pure liquid evil heat.
Time was lost to her. She focused on the awfulness that fell out of her, the darkness buried inside as it came out. It wasn't until that Ginny came up from behind her and grabbed her hair that she felt a warmth. Her fingers brushed the back of her neck, rubbing gently and whispering her soft words.
"I'm sorry. So, so sorry. Just let it all out."
Her hum was beautiful. It sounded like the very sound of calm.
Tears stung her eyes. Hermione loved her so much. The fierce lioness of Gryffindor. Everyone made it seem like it was Hermione who hailed the very nature of the Hogwarts House, but it wasn't. Ginny was the lioness. The most important person in the world.
Ginny wet a rag. She pressed it against Hermione's temples as she pushed away from the porcelain.
After she regained herself, they made their way to her bed. Ginny climbed in alongside her and fluffed up their pillows and put in their favorite movie. Neither left the bed. They accioed their popcorn and cups of tea.
Neither spoke much. The night ruined by the sudden exposure of Ron and the family business. It was difficult to find the motivation to breach the topics yet again, as both girls were drained by the interaction all together.
Ginny and Hermione snuggled up together, their sleep deeper when each felt the other there.
The presence of a heartbeat, a living breath so close when they both inevitably awoke from their own personal nightmare comforted the two. Hermione drifted off easily once she heard the gentle sighs that came from her friend's nose as she slept. It was a white noise. It lulled her back to slumber. A time later came for Ginny to awaken with a start, causing Hermione to stir lightly in bed, and lifted the veil of the nightmare just as quick.
Each night was a fight for a bit of rest from the eternal nightmare that Voldemort had created.