Spring rolled around and brought with it the sunshine and warmth that everyone in the school had been looking forward to. The clear Saturday afternoon saw most the castles inhabitants outside roaming the grounds. Several students could be found sitting on the fields and by the lake working on their homework. Among them were Harry Potter and Ron Weasley, though their homework had been set aside for their current discussion.
"You know Draco actually got a good grade on a charms essay? I wonder how he suddenly got so good at it?" Ron commented as they stared up at the clouds.
"Well if you would use your eyes you could see that it's because Hermione is tutoring him. The two of them spend a lot of time together." Harry responded. He thought back to their previous years, the three of them had inseparable. He wondered what had happened to make Hermione hate them so much, to drive in into the arms of the one who had been their arch enemy for most of their school years.
"Yeah I guess you're right. She's been hanging around Ginny a lot too, but I can't get her to tell me anything."
"Ron the last person I want to talk about right now is your sister. No offense mate but I'm still not happy about how that turned out." His ego was still smarting from the blow it took a couple months after the final battle when Ginny denied his advances and called him a selfish child in front of most of her family. She then proceeded to lay into the rest of the witches and wizards gathered in the Burrow, about how all of them had turned into a bunch of recluses that she didn't want to be a part of and for forgetting one of the biggest things in all their lives. Harry hadn't heard much of her rant through the shock that was rolling through his system. He could barely breathe for the pain in his chest, and tears fell from his face when the young woman had stormed from the house and proceeded to apparate to parts unknown.
He hadn't known what she was talking about then, hadn't figured it out until he saw Hermione seated at the end of the Gryffindor table, covered in bruises and marks. When he and Ron had tried to sit with her she had simply ignored their appearance stood and moved to another, empty part of the table. She did the same when Ginny tried to sit with her.
"Yeah, sorry mate." Ron said.
"S'okay." Harry mumbled. "Look let's just get Snape's homework done, then we can hit the Quidditch pitch for some extra practice."
At that same moment the young witch in question was attempting to explain how to do a leg sweep while not only in motion but also on wheels. Rolanda wasn't exactly catching on.
"You have to build your momentum before you drop, keep your leg at the precise angle so that you don't lose your balance, and at the same time twist your body so that you get enough torque to carry you around into your opponent, tripping them up." She demonstrated the maneuver again for what felt like the 50th time since they began.
Again Ro tried and again she fell on her face. "Damn it, I don't understand this one Hermione, and you aren't helping much either."
"How am I not helping? I explained exactly how the maneuver is done and demonstrated exactly how to do it, what…"
Hooch cut off the brunette, "English, Hermione, explain it in English. I don't understand the technical terms."
"I am teaching you the exact same way I was taught. I don't know another way to teach it." Both women were facing each other, hands flying as they defended their respective points. Hurt rolled through Hermione at Ro's demand of English terms, the harsh reminder of the way Harry and Ron used to talk to her when she tried to explain a potions essay or charms project.
"Well then you're a lousy teacher!" Hooch's temper and sore muscles got the better of her for only a moment, and the results were immediate.
For most of her life Hermione had wanted to be a teacher, had planned on earning her Mastery and applying for a position at Hogwarts once she finished her NEWTS. Hearing those words, immediately her walls shot up and she closed herself in, trying to hide the hurt she felt behind walls that were thick and impenetrable.
"Then I suggest you go, and take a few days to decide whether or not you still wish to continue learning this. I'm sorry I can't be the teacher you wanted or expected me to be but I'm the only one at Hogwarts that knows the sport." Hermione turned away from her and let the tears fall.
"Mia I…" Ro reached for her.
"Just go." came the whisper from tense shoulders and fingers balled into fists.
"But you…"
"Go!" Hermione heard a sigh, soft footsteps, and the heavy door to the room close. That resounding sound had a finality to it that put her on her knees, screaming out the anguish that so heavily crushed the heart that she thought had begun to heal. Her cries echoed off the stone walls and bounced back into her own ears, only making her sob harder at the clear pain in the sound. She clutched at her chest trying to quell the intense burning sensation. She clawed at her chest desperate to find a way to remove the hurt. No relief came. No help from friends. No Ro, to stop her from hurting herself anymore.
When she noticed the blood under her nails and the slight damp patch on her shirt that was no stained red she stopped and crawled to the wall, where she had dropped her school things upon entering the room, and sat with her back to it. Reaching into her bag she dragged out her razor blade. The only companion she had ever found that couldn't leave her. For the first time in more days than she could care to count, she dragged the blade across through her flesh. The pain in her arm gradually began to ease the pain in her chest and helped her breath. Another cut and the pain eased more. Cut after cut made its way into her flesh. How deep, she didn't care. More and more gashes spider-webbed across her arms, and blood dripped onto the stone beneath her.
"You won't find the relief you seek down that path."
A velveteen voice drifted through the room. The Grey Lady drifted through the wall just to Hermione's right. She sat next to the younger woman. Her pale hand ghosted over Hermione's upturned arm, not quite through it, but just over it.
"What would you know?" Hermione hissed and turned her face away from the ghost.
"Indeed. Has anyone ever told you the story of my death?" she asked softly.
"No, I know that Luna knows, but there is no mention of it in any of the books that I have read." Hermione leaned her head back against the wall and allowed the tears to flow freely from her eyes. Normally she had better control over this. But after months of little sleep and just losing her best friend, fore that was what it felt like happened, she couldn't help it, though she wasn't worried about the ghost next to her telling anyone. She didn't know why but she felt certain that Helena Ravenclaw would keep secret what she was witnessing.
"That is because I wanted it kept out of the history books. I will make you a deal, hmm?" Helena turned to face her.
"What deal?" her voice sounded dead even to her own ears. She hadn't felt this close to suicide in many months. The feeling was familiar, almost like coming home after being away for many months. And that was the truth of it, she realized. She hadn't been healing. She had been pretending at getting better. There was nothing that could truly help.
"I will tell you bits and pieces about how I died, in return you tell me bits and pieces about why you feel the need to harm yourself." She removed her hand from Hermione's arm.
Hermione wasn't sure whether it was the loss of blood and the dizziness in her head or the complete heart ache that she felt but she nodded her head. Reaching into her bag she dragged out a a couple boxes of butter fly sutures, a washcloth, and bandages to wrap them in. the bleeding was slowing down and would soon stop. Dampening the cloth with a simple spell, she began to clean the dried blood off her arm.
"I was 19 years when I fell in love for the first time. He was brilliant, funny, charming, everything a young woman could have wanted in a man." She opened up with.
"I was 19 when they caught us and took us to Malfoy Manor, sometime around Easter." Hermione murmured. She placed the sutures across each of the cuts and used them to pull the skin back together and very gently held it closed with the other end of the butterfly. Once this process was finished she wrapped the Bandages around her arms to keep the wounds from leaking everywhere.
"The one you know as the Bloody Baron. He is the one I fell in love with. Though simple knew him as Jonathan." Her eyes seemed to mist over at that.
"Bellatrix Lestrange decided we needed to have a chat 'girl to girl'. She separated me from the others." Hermione clutched at the mark on her left arm. Even with the new scars she had, the one that Bellatrix left still shone through. The magic in the scar kept it from being changed by any other blade. So now her arm appeared to have the word, surrounded by an almost shattered look on her skin.
"He broke my heart when I found him with another woman. I ran away that night and I didn't intend to go back." Ghostly tears flowed down her beautiful face.
"She tortured me. I screamed for…I don't know how long, hours…days maybe. She carved into my arm." Hermione was openly sobbing now, her words coming out between great, heaving gasps, a heart shattering sound ripped from her throat as she shouted out her anguish into a room that wouldn't allow the sound to pass. She was doubled over, both arms wrapped around her stomach, eyes squeezed shut.
"My mother asked him to find me. When he did he told me to stop acting like a child and come back with him. When I refused, he killed me." Her voice was steady and clear though she still cried. "Eventually living with the pain does get easier. I found no relief in my death. Neither will you. That pain will haunt you as surely as you will haunt these halls."
Hermione still cried. Helena wished that she had a corporeal body to hug the young woman, but settled to allowing her hand to pass over the girl's hair, letting her feel the chill coming from her form. Slowly Hermione's cries calmed and became gentle sniffles.
"Why did you open up to me, Hermione?" Helena asked quietly when the young witch finally sat back against the walls and wiped the tear tracks on her face.
"I don't really know. I could blame the blood loss, but that wouldn't be right. I guess it's because you're anonymous to most of the castle. I know I can trust you with this, even though I barely know you." Hermione whispered.
"Yes, I am alone much of the time. I prefer to keep to myself rather than be amongst the others in the castle. There is more to your tale than what you have shared with me, is there not?" Helena stood preparing to leave.
"Oh yes, much more. Thank you though, for listening to the part that I did tell." Hermione stood as well and grabbed her bag to leave.
"The rest, you should tell it to your friend. The one you spend all your time teaching that game too. Truth-be-told you should tell her all of it, but if you prefer I will listen when you choose to tell someone. Have a good day Hermione, and remember that you do have friends, ones that care about you." Helena drifted through the wall.
Hermione started out of the room then froze. Ro's words drifted back through her mind. 'You wear your emotions on your sleeve when you dance.' Walking over to the pole, she laid her fingers on the cold steel. Dropping her things she shrugged out of her jacket and pulled her wand out, transfiguring her clothes into a tight leotard. Thinking back on a routine that she had performed at a competition at Baby Doll's urging, she heard the music she wanted start to play. Smiling at the room she began the twists, bends and splits the routine was comprised of. Everything disappeared. The pain in her chest, her arms, the room, even the castle vanished as she moved through the pattern. She was floating in her own world of contentment where nothing mattered and there was nothing anyone could say that would kill the ease she felt. Even if someone did say something to her, she wouldn't have heard it.
When the song ended she was curled on the free spinning pole in almost a fetal position, upside down, with the pole between her knees and her right side stretched along the metal. The pole was still spinning and her hand stretched below her, dragging the floor. Smiling to herself she dismounted the pole, transfigured her clothes back, and left the room, pausing only for a moment to press her hand to the stone by the door and whisper a quiet 'thank you' to the castle itself. The wall her fingers touched vibrated as though a purr had run through the stone. She knew that she would have to face her nightmare again tonight, just as she knew that things were going to be different tomorrow, harder without Ro. But at that moment, she didn't care. Shouldering her things she headed for the Hospital Wing wondering on the way if Madam Pomfrey had any cream that would help heal her scars.
Rolanda wandered her way through the corridors toward the great hall for dinner. Thoughts of her young friend filled her mind and she felt horrible for what she had said. She knew she had hurt the girl but had no idea how to apologize, or if Hermione would even want her too. At that thought the ache in her chest grew. No, she had to apologize, had to make her understand that she hadn't meant the hurtful words she had said.
Her worry about how badly she had hurt the younger woman began to rise when Hermione never showed for dinner. The Headmistress herself was late coming into the hall for the meal, when she took her seat next to the flying instructor Hooch asked her about it.
"Miss Granger was informing me that she won't be available for tea the evening. She has research to do into a project that she is doing with Mr. Malfoy in Charms." Minerva sipped the pumpkin juice in front of her and took a bite of her salad.
"Oh, I didn't know she had a project with Malfoy." The white haired woman tried to keep her voice level and disinterested.
"I know about your friendship with her, Rolanda." Minerva said quietly.
"…" what could Hooch say to defend herself.
"Hermione told me that she is teaching you to play that sport she loves." The Headmistress kept her eyes averted, "I also notice that she didn't show up for dinner with as she normally does. Is everything alright?"
"Not here, Tabby," she whispered, "Please, we can talk later, but not here." The quiet request was strained and Minerva didn't miss the use of her nickname, something that the flying instructor only called her in times of great distress, anymore.
"Very well would you like to come to my rooms to discuss it then?" Emerald eyes interrogated yellow as the other woman nodded. "Then I shall see you in an hour." Minerva finished her salad stood and left the dejected witch to her thoughts.
Ro for her part was having difficulty keeping the little amounts of food she had managed to consume, in her stomach. Her guilt over her words was churning her stomach. She knew Hermione wasn't researching a project. Her absence from dinner had everything to do with the fight they had gotten into. Looking down at her plate she hoped that the young woman wouldn't do anything stupid.
An hour later Rolanda walked into Minerva's private quarters and smiled. The smell of spiced chai tea filled the room, along with the scent of chocolate chip cookies. Both of her favorites. Walking into the sitting room she found Minerva curled up on the couch, bare feet tucked under her, a book in her hands. She paused for a moment at the door to take in the familiar sight. The tenderness that blossomed in her chest for this woman warred with the feelings she had for the younger witch that had yet to leave her mind. Clearing her throat quietly she spoke, "You never forget do you?"
Without looking up from her page, Minerva answered, "It's hard to forget 8 years, of your life, love."
"Except that it has been almost double that since we split, Tabby." Rolanda sat down on the couch next to the ebony haired witch.
Minerva unfolded her legs and set her feet on the floor, reaching for her cup and taking a sip. "It's still something that I can't forget. I'm not even sure why we ended what we had."
The flying instructor took a bite of her cookie and smiled. "I was too wild for you. At least that was the basis of your argument. You wanted a companion that would sit and read with you or debate the latest transfiguration, not a wild woman who spent her time on the field and came home late every evening."
"Is that still true?" Minerva looked up at Hooch and still, after all these years, could feel the passion rise between the two of them.
Ro looked into intense green eyes and sighed, "I don't know. That's a question that only you can answer. I haven't changed who I am. I am still wild. I still come home late. I still couldn't hold a debate on transfiguration if you paid me too."
"The debates I can live without but, we were good together. Or I thought we were." Minerva was fumbling. She still wanted Hooch but she wasn't sure how to reconcile her feelings for the flying instructor and her growing feelings for Hermione. She tried to keep the younger woman at a distance she couldn't, in good conscience act on her feelings while the girl was still a student in her care.
"We were good together, Tabby." Ro sighed. "We were just too different and wanted different things. You know…" soft lips pressed over hers silenced her. Minerva had leaned forward and was very gently kissing her. She felt herself respond as she had before they had split up. One hand went to the Headmistress's waist, the other slid up and along the side of her neck. She hummed into the kiss. Merlin, but she had missed this. Missed the affection that flowed so easily between the two of them. Missed the passion that rose every time they touched. But they weren't together anymore.
Hermione. The young witch's face flashed through Ro's mind and she very gently pushed Minerva back. "We can't. Things are still too raw between us. This is the first time we have mentioned getting back together in years. Not to mention, we both have responsibilities that we need to deal with before we even think about getting together again."
"What responsibilities?" Minerva was confused.
"How about the 19 year old girl that has come to rely on both of us more than anyone else? How are we to give her our full attention, to help her get over what happened to her, if we are fumbling around a new relationship with each other? That's not fair to her. I'm sorry, Tabby, but this isn't the right time for this. Later maybe, but not now." Ro stood from the couch and paced to the window, shoving her fingers through her spikey hair.
"What happened between you two earlier?" came the soft inquiry from behind her.
"I-I said something that upset her. I'm not sure which part upset her the worst but, I lost my temper." She answered.
"What did you say?" Minerva walked over and led the flying instructor back to the couch.
"She was trying to explain how to do a maneuver and was using technical terms that were difficult to understand in the circumstances. I mean I understand what she was saying now but my frustration at not being able to perform the move made me snappy. I told her to speak English and…" Minerva cut her off.
"That was your first mistake."
"How?" Hooch asked, raising her eyebrow.
"You obviously know about her estrangement from Potter and Weasley," receiving a nod she continued, "They often spoke to her like that when she tried to explain something to them with their homework. Told her to speak plain English instead of using terms they didn't understand. Keep going."
"Well, after that she said that she was teaching me the same way she was taught and didn't know another way to teach it. I called her a lousy teacher." Hooch looked down trying to hide the guilt so plainly written on her face.
"After Hermione gets her teaching credentials and completes her mastery this summer, she is coming back here to be a teacher. Mistake number two. Anything else?" Minerva put her hand on her friend's hunched back.
"She told me to leave and I tried to explain it to her, tell her I didn't mean to hurt her but she wouldn't let me speak." Rolanda buried her face in her hands and sighed into them.
"That was your last mistake. When Hermione gets upset with someone, she doesn't want to take the time to face them, until she calms down. Amongst those she cares for, she keeps her temper in check until she is behind closed doors so that she doesn't accidently say something that she might regret." Minerva explained. Years of watching the young witch grow and struggle in a world that didn't understand or accept her had given her an insight into how the girl thought and reacted in most situations. "Give her a couple of days to cool off and then go apologize. Things will go back to normal."
"Thank you. I think I should probably go. On my way in I saw the mountain of paper work on your desk, and I have wallowing in self-pity to get to. I appreciate the insight Minerva." She said.
"You're welcome. I'll see you at breakfast in the morning." With that Hooch left. She leaned against the wall on the far side of the door to the Headmistress's private rooms, taking in deep breath after deep breath.
One though occurred to her, 'How in the hell am I supposed to approach her after what I said, and if I can figure that out, what will she say when I apologize?'