The Misery
The rest of the Easter weekend was spent in a daze. She wasn't invited to the Burrow anyway after splitting up with Ron so it wasn't as if she was expected anywhere. She stayed in bed. There was no point in getting up, after all. How could it all have gone so wrong? She cried until she didn't have any tears left, and then cried some more. It didn't help. She tried to send Iris off to Hogwarts with an explanation but the bird returned the next day, the letter still attached to her leg. She'd always assumed that the phrase "die of a broken heart" was a euphemism but the pain from missing Severus was so bad she thought her heart would literally burst, and she almost welcomed it.
The mere thought of food made her nauseous so for a while she mainly subsisted on dry toast and some crackers Ginny or Luna had left in her cupboard during one of their girl's nights. Only her two animal companions forced her to rise occasionally, to feed and care for them. Crookshanks tried to get her to rise from the bed but in the end the half-Kneazle had to settle for purring and cuddles. She didn't even call in to work and refused to acknowledge Healer Trout's messages. He tried to Floo call her a few times but she didn't let it through.
~o~o~o~o~o~
A week after everything came crashing down her wards were broken by a trio of witches. Luna, Ginny and Lucy burst in through the door after having spent a solid half hour battling her wards. Ginny was the first to enter her bedroom.
"This isn't like you, Hermione. You can't be that upset over Ron? Come on girl, time to get up."
"It's just too much, Ginny," Hermione tried. "My parents…"
Luna took one sharp look at her. "Ginny, we need to feed her first. Hermione, let's get you into the shower for a bit. I'll clean up here, Lucy can you check the kitchen?"
"Right on it."
Hermione was ushered into the bathroom by a very determined Ginny. The younger witch took a look at the state of her bathroom and pulled out her wand. With a few muttered spells the entire bathroom was clean and smelled of pine needles, with fresh towels and a few candles on the sink for good measure.
"You have one of those Muggle washer-uppers, don't you?" Ginny asked briskly. "Well, I think Lucy knows how they work. Will you be alright in here or do you want me to wash your hair for you?"
"No, I'll be alright," Hermione said feebly. It felt as if she was caught in a hurricane. A Ginny-shaped, angrily glowering redhead hurricane.
Her friend had her hands on her hips and looked her over. "Right, clothes off, they need a wash. Seriously, girl, you're a mess! Why didn't you come to us earlier? Don't lock the door or I'll use Bombarda on it."
Hermione rolled her eyes. "Okay, Mrs Weasley!"
Ginny huffed, took Hermione's clothes and left her to it. Hermione walked a bit unsteadily to the shower, oddly relieved at their intervention. The hot water took some of her aches away, along with sweat and grime and dried-up tears.
When she finally emerged from the bathroom, clad in her purple bath robe and with her hair wrapped in a towel, her friends had cleaned up the rest of her tiny flat including the space for her animals. They had opened the windows wide to let fresh air in, Luna dispersed various incense burners that made the whole flat smell of flowers, Lucy had apparently managed to buy groceries and Ginny was organising brunch. The washing machine was humming in the corner.
They settled down to eat. Hermione didn't feel very hungry but her stomach grumbled nonetheless. Still, some of the food made her a bit nauseous, such as the bacon and sausages, and the scrambled eggs. She grabbed a piece of toast and some fruit to start with.
Ginny was the first to speak. "Come on, Hermione. It's not over Ron is it? I promise, I was completely livid once I heard what they were planning but they went through with it anyway. I can't believe Harry refused to listen to me over this! I told him it was a lousy idea. Look, Bill and Fleur asked me to tell you that they hope you'll go see them soon, and the twins just said it was about time you ditched Ron. They did say something about it being a pity they'd have to rename the store, however. Do you know what that was about?"
Hermione nodded vaguely. "No it's not that, or not only that. Look, Ginny, I appreciate it but I don't want to talk about it now, OK? Thanks for coming through anyway. I'll try harder."
Luna looked at her a bit too intensely but soon started talking about the latest news in the Quibbler. After a while, and some food, Hermione found she could breathe a bit easier. Still, the intense pain in her chest returned as soon as the trio left for the evening. How could he — how could she live without him? She simply couldn't, but how would she be able to reach him to explain?
~o~o~o~o~o~
She dragged herself to work but hid from everyone. The Longbottom trial was scheduled for the following week. Lucy tried to talk to her but she only gave one-word answers, and she even hid from Healer Trout when he came by to see her. She didn't manage to actually do anything, however, and mainly spent her time doodling on a piece of parchment or staring into the flames of her fireplace.
Harry showed up the next day, rather unexpectedly. He pulled a hand through his ever-messy hair. "I'm sorry, Hermione. I thought you were…"
"I don't want to talk about it," she snapped.
"Right. I'm still sorry. I should never have pushed Ron. Look, there's another Victory Ball coming up. I really hope you'll come, Hermione. Not with Ron of course." He handed her a Ministry envelope with her name, containing another formal invitation for the next Ministry Ball which was to be held already the next weekend. She glanced at the elaborate letters but couldn't find any enthusiasm whatsoever about going.
"I'm really not in a party mood, Harry."
"Yeah, I get it, but please, Hermione?"
She sighed. She could never quite say no to Harry, and so somehow he had made her promise to show up even if only for fifteen minutes.
~o~o~o~o~o~
Still, for others, life went on.
"Are you going to the Victory Ball, Hermione?" Lucy asked.
Hermione groaned. "I don't want to but Harry and the others are basically forcing me to go."
"I'd love to go but I'm not invited," Lucy said wistfully. "Not that I should be invited or anything, it's just that it sounds so exciting."
Hermione thought a little. "Do you want to go with me, then? I don't have a date."
Lucy grinned. "Are you asking me out, Hermione Granger? I'll have you know that I have a boyfriend and all that. But yes that sounds great, I'd love to go with you!"
"Good, we could ask Luna if she's going with someone, perhaps she could invite Marcel?"
Lucy smiled. "That would be awesome, I'll check with her. Thanks, Hermione."
~o~o~o~o~o~
Hermione really didn't want to go to the stupid Ministry Ball, but none of what she wanted mattered anymore and so she found herself getting ready in her flat with Lucy and Luna who had agreed to bring Marcel. Luna wore a set of light blue robes in a gauzy fabric made up of many different layers, making her appear almost ethereal, while Lucy had champagne-coloured robes with a more structured cut. Hermione pulled on a set of deep blue robes, put her hair up and reluctantly allowed Lucy to do her makeup. Realisation set in, the robes were the ones she'd worn to the dinner with Severus in Prague, but it was too late to change.
Much like the year prior, the Ball was held at a mansion belonging to an old Wizarding family, she thought it was a branch of the Selwyn family this time. All of them clutched their Portkeys and soon they were off, Marcel having joined them once everyone was ready. There was a security point right by the entrance where their invitations were scanned and their wands registered, and after that Lucy and Marcel were free to mingle as they wished. Hermione chose to stay back a bit and found a quiet corner with a round bar table. She didn't want a drink but sipped a glass of champagne, mostly for show. She saw Harry and Ginny dancing, and waved at them from her table. Ron was apparently there with Lavender, not that she cared much about him.
There were way too many photographers for her taste. The ballroom was beautiful, of course, gold and glass and floating lights reflected a thousand different ways.
Kingsley Shacklebolt sauntered over to her corner and she plastered on a smile. He looked stunning in robes that seemed to change colour as he moved, from deep blue to green to purple, adorned with gems and runes.
"Hermione. How are you?" He kissed her on the cheek. "You look splendid tonight, dear."
"Fine, thanks, and you?"
"Fine, fine. I heard of your trials at St Mungo's? Gilderoy Lockhart seems like a completely new wizard now."
She sighed. "Kingsley, if you don't mind, I'd rather not think about Lockhart tonight."
He chuckled but complied, and instead started talking about the latest Ministry reforms he wanted to introduce. To her surprise she found herself vaguely interested in what he had to say.
"May I have this dance?" Kingsley held out a hand to her, and led her in a waltz before they returned to their drinks.
Luna came up to them after dancing with Marcel. She looked straight at Kingsley with that special Luna gaze and smiled. "Minister. I think you want to dance with me."
Their eyes locked. The sparks were almost visible. Finally Kingsley smiled, a slow lazy smile.
"I believe you're right, Miss Lovegood, is it?"
She nodded. "It's Luna, as you well know."
He inclined his head. "Kingsley. May I have this dance?"
"Of course, Kingsley."
Kingsley held out his hand to Luna and led her out on the floor, never taking his eyes off her. The band struck up a waltz.
Hermione looked out over the dance floor, watching all the couples twirling and floating by as the band played. Harry and Ginny were dancing, as were Neville and Millicent, and plenty of prominent witches and wizards who wanted to be seen on the winning side after the end of the ugly war.
And there he was all of a sudden, dancing with an impossibly beautiful witch, blonde and tall like a Muggle photo model. He held the witch close as he led her around the dance floor, Hermione could almost feel his hands on her back instead. She couldn't stop looking, and of course he noticed. His face was a blank impassive mask when his gaze slid past her. Suddenly she felt ridiculous. He had never committed to her, never as much as hinted that he wanted to dance with her in public aside from the Prague conference. Still, she could almost hear her heart breaking, again.
Millicent and Neville made a surprisingly striking couple on the dance floor, until they noticed her and stopped by her table. Millicent smiled faintly at her but Hermione had to fight to hold back tears. Neville merely looked confused and asked why she was all by herself in the corner. She didn't answer.
"Neville, would you be able to… I don't know, make some noise here in a little while? I really, really need to get out of here without being noticed."
Millicent raised her eyebrows minutely and nodded. Apparently she understood perfectly well why. Well, Hermione could be grateful for Slytherin guile when it worked in her favour.
"Um… sure?" He sounded nervous. "Ten minutes from now."
She sighed in relief. "Thanks a million, Nev."
"Anytime, you know that Hermione?" His posture was more certain now.
True to his word, after ten minutes Neville dropped on one knee right in the middle of the ballroom in front of his date and pulled out a small jewellery box. All the cameras and most of the attention turned to the couple, so Hermione could sneak out the back and Apparate home.
The next morning the knife cut even deeper when she saw the paper. There he was, on the front page of the Daily Prophet, arm in arm with that stunning blonde witch. He dipped his head down to hers as if to kiss her and she looked up at him with a smile. They looked awfully comfortable together, and the headline confirmed what the sinking feeling in her stomach already had told her. Britain's Most Elusive Bachelor Now Taken, the headline confirmed. Of course they were also in more pictures inside the paper, of them dancing at the ball, their elegant steps repeated endlessly in the picture.
~o~o~o~o~o~
Nothing was fun anymore, nothing mattered. It was as if all the colours had gone out of the world. The pain in her chest where Severus should be ached all day long although it was worst in the evenings. She cried herself to sleep and stopped eating again, not caring about anything. She did make it to work occasionally purely on autopilot but didn't get anything written, she merely sat staring at the walls, drifting off into daydreams where he hadn't left her. She tried, occasionally, to put up the mask for her friends, but usually couldn't find the energy to bother. For some reason she could stand Luna best, and occasionally Lucy in the office. Harry and Ginny were too much effort, with their guilt and their unspoken questions and her anger at them for setting her up at the Burrow, and other friends were too distant. She was always so tired, a bone-deep weariness, and some days she barely managed to feed Crooks and Iris before crashing into bed after work.
The Longbottom trial, as it had been called, would be carried out over two days the week after the Ball to allow for monitoring of the patients. Hermione sat in a corner of the room the first day, nervously nibbling a quill and observing as Healer Strout administered the potion to Frank Longbottom and cast the charms Hermione had designed. Although Neville had begged to be included, Healer Strout had adamantly refused to have him there, stating that this was still a medical procedure and not a show. Hermione was grateful for his absence, it would have been even worse had he been there. Frank Longbottom was seated in a chair, looking out over the ward. At first nothing seemed to be happening until all of a sudden the man gasped and started screaming. No words could be heard, just his incoherent wailing. Healer Strout quickly administered a strong Calming Draught. Slowly the wizard calmed down to the Healer's slow even voice telling him who he was, and where.
"I'm… I'm not in the dungeons?" was the first thing Frank Longbottom asked, his voice hoarse from disuse but not dissimilar to Neville's.
"No, you're at St Mungo's, we've been taking care of you."
Frank started sobbing.
Hermione snuck out of the room, not able to take it anymore. Apparently the trial had worked, to some degree. The rest would be up to Healer Strout's team, and to the man's own mental strength, whatever was left of it after such a long time.
~o~o~o~o~o~
The month of May dragged its feet. Time seemed to crawl by. Early summer hit London with blossoming flowers, sunshine and colours, but Hermione felt stuck in a grey bubble of misery, unable to participate. She showed up at work, some days, but didn't do much other than to shuffle papers from one side of the desk to the other. Apparently Frank Longbottom was plagued by severe nightmares but at least he now understood who, and when, he was. They hadn't yet been able to ask Alice anything, she just screamed incoherently when brought out of medical stasis.
Towards the end of the month something gradually worked its way to her conscious mind. Where was her period? She'd been feeling off lately, the past month at least, but had dismissed that as simple anxiety after Severus ran out of her life. Still, she hadn't exactly eaten like she should, and stress did cause periods to get all wonky.
Once the thought had arisen she couldn't get it to go away, however, and so she snuck down to the local Boots pharmacy one early Saturday morning and bought three tests, just in case, along with some snacks and Muggle magazines. For some reason she trusted Muggle tech more than charms in this case, and since she didn't know the incantation anyway she'd have to go to someone else for that, which would invite questions she didn't want.
Still, she was extremely nervous when she went to the bathroom and unwrapped the test, frowning at the instructions and trying not to make a mess of herself.
Oh gods. It can't be. Surely not.
But there it was, a bright blue plus sign on the test display.
Pregnant.
Shit.
Thinking back, she recalled running out of contraceptive potion some time back. She'd just been about to write a note to Severus when another owl had knocked on the window with a note from Luna, and after that she must have simply forgotten.
Luna… maybe Luna could help her sort out her thoughts? Almost frantically she threw Floo powder in the hearth and called her friend's name.
"Luna, are you in?" she asked through the Floo. "I'm sorry to disturb you, I just need to talk to someone, you know?"
"Oh, sure, come on through Hermione," her blonde friend answered. "We were just getting up."
The last sentence was almost drowned out by the chaotic journey through the Floo, had Luna just said we?
She tumbled out of the fireplace onto Luna's colourful rug, still clutching the test. Her friend was wearing a pink fluffy bathrobe with unicorns frolicking around the lower hem.
Luna took a long look at her. "Oh, Hermione. I'm so sorry."
Suddenly she was caught in a hug and it was as if the dam burst, letting all the emotions loose. "I'm so scared, I can't do this alone!" She cried and cried, snotty messy tears all over Luna's fluffy bathrobe.
"You're not alone, not in this. Not ever."
Somehow she was manoeuvred to the wooden kitchen couch and given a whole box of tissue paper.
"Yes but there will be a baby, Luna! And probably with black hair and a big nose and then all the rest of the Weasleys and Harry will abandon me too! I want my mummy!"
The tears kept coming. She didn't have the strength to stop them.
Luna sat next to her, stroking her hair. "Shh, it will be alright, you will see. It will be hard, very hard, but it will be alright in the end."
Slowly Hermione allowed herself to believe it. "Are you… are you sure?"
Luna nodded. "I know it." She looked solemn and serious, and Hermione desperately wanted to believe her.
"But how…?"
Luna didn't answer and instead got up to put on a kettle for tea, that ubiquitous British solution to all the world's problems. Hermione fell silent, allowing Luna's calm presence to wash over her as the blonde witch puttered about in her kitchen, humming as she dug around for cups and tea in her cupboards.
After a while, a cup of tea was placed in front of Hermione who cautiously sniffed it before taking a sip. Luna often brewed tea using rather creative ingredients, so one never quite knew what to expect. This appeared to be regular plain black tea, however, with just the right amount of milk and a dash of honey. Luna seated herself across the table from Hermione.
"You know you have to tell him. He deserves as much."
"I know," Hermione said glumly. "But how? He's already moved on, you saw him at the Ministry Ball! They were all over the Prophet! And I can't go up to Hogwarts and make a scene, he's refused to accept all messages I've tried to send him and I don't want Minerva and all the students involved."
Luna nodded and took a sip from her cup.
"Well if you don't want to go see him at Hogwarts you just have to visit him at home after the end of term, it's only a few weeks away anyway. Do you have his address?"
That question made her frown. Actually, no she didn't. It simply hadn't come up. He was at Hogwarts, after all, or they'd met at her flat, and she'd never thought to ask where he lived otherwise.
The wispy blonde witch rose to hunt down a scrap of parchment, scribbled something on it and sent it off to Hermione who quickly caught it. Someone walked past the open kitchen door, on the way to the bathroom. Hermione only got a glimpse of something dark and colourful, with no clue as to who it might have been. Still, whoever it was was clearly male and Hermione suddenly felt quite uncomfortable over intruding.
"I'm sorry Luna, you have company, I'll leave."
"Don't worry, it's only Kingsley," her young friend answered with a smile.
Hermione put her mug down with a thump, causing a minor teavalanche to spill over the edge. "Did you… did you say Kingsley? As in Shacklebolt?"
Luna shrugged and smiled her very special Luna smile. "That would be the one."
"Oh, well, congratulations." She blinked, trying to make sense of what she'd just heard. "How long have you been seeing each other?"
"Since the Ministry ball. He's good to have around, all the Nargles seem to have disappeared and the Blibbering Humdingers are much more quiet."
"Well, you seem to … fit, I mean, personality wise," Hermione commented.
Luna smiled in a way that made her look years older. "Oh yes, he fits very well."
"Luna!" That brought a smile out, despite the shock and general confusion.
Kingsley chose that moment to enter the room. He nodded at Hermione, kissed Luna's cheek and poured a cup of tea for himself.
"Thanks but I'll leave anyway, congratulations again, to both of you," Hermione said with a nervous smile at Kingsley who merely smirked at her and pulled his Luna closer.