September 19, 2009
She woke to the annoying blare of the alarm clock, knocking it to the floor, hearing bits and pieces of the clock scatter about. She left the bed and looked in the mirror.
"Happy sodding birthday," she said to her reflection and left the bedroom.
After her shower, she had her usual breakfast of scones and tea. From the kitchen, she saw the flat devoid of Trace's things and sighed.
Alone again.
She was startled by the telephone and answered it.
"Sweetie? Happy birthday!"
"Hi, mum."
"I called last night, but I figured you were out with Trace."
"Um....no."
"Is something wrong? Are you crying?"
"No, mum, I have to go to work."
"Today?"
"Believe me, mum, I really need to work, notwithstanding my dodgy birthday. It'll help take my mind off...things."
"Why are you sniffling? You are crying, what's happened?"
She choked back a sob. "Tr-Trace left."
"Left? When will he be back?"
"You don't understand; he left me. He resigned from his position at work and when I got home, I found a note and all his things were gone."
Her mother sputtered. "When?"
"Yesterday."
"Why? I thought things were going so well between the two of you!"
Hermione wiped her eyes and sniffed again. "I have no idea why he's left, no idea at all. The last time I even saw him was three days ago, and things were fine, or so I thought. He didn't even resign in person, and he got all his stuff from here while I was at work. He left a note on a vase of flowers, can you believe it?"
"Are you sure you don't want me to come over? Or better yet, why don't you take some time and come here?"
"Really, mum, he left the department in kind of a lurch, I have a lot of work to do."
"Oh dear, your friends are throwing you a party tonight, aren't they?"
"Believe me, it's the last thing I feel like doing. All I'll be seeing is happy couples. I'll just muddle through, lots of spirits should help."
Her mum snorted softly. "You can't just decline?"
"If only it were that easy. They've managed to rent an entire pub for the night and dozens of invitations have been sent."
"I'm sure everyone would understand if you didn't go."
"I've never been a coward and I don't intend to start now. They've gone through a lot of trouble. Maybe being around all my friends is what I need."
"Okay, sweetie, but I will be stopping by tomorrow with birthday presents and I'll take you out to lunch. How does that sound? I know this isn't an easy day for you, but you are my baby who's having a birthday, so happy birthday. Just remember how many people love you."
"Thanks, mum, you always know what to say. I'll see you tomorrow."
"Take care, I love you."
"Love you too, mum, bye."
After work, Hermione decided to start the party early. She quickly downed a glass of wine after throwing off her work clothes. She looked through her wardrobe and scoffed. Her cat, Crooks the Second, came into the bedroom. She spoke to the cat.
"You know what? It's my sodding birthday party, innit? I'll wear what I want!" she said and saluted the cat with her wine glass.
After she dressed, she grabbed her purse, the wine bottle, and the vase of flowers and left her flat. She Apparated to Trace's flat and saw that no one was home. She took a swig of wine, nodded at a man that passed, and left the vase on the patio of the flat.
At The Galloping Gryffin, Harry looked at his watch again.
"Don't worry, she'll be here," Ginny said and refreshed the cooling charm on the bottles of Butterbeer on the table.
The door to the pub opened and Hermione stepped inside. She lifted a wine bottle and greeted everyone.
"Oh God," Harry said. "It looks like she's already started."
She looked disheveled in her "Save A Broom-Ride A Wizard" t-shirt, old, faded jeans and trainers. She flung off a red cable-knit sweater and asked where her cake was.
"I'll need a fire extinguisher to put out all the candles!" she declared.
Partygoers came forward to greet her and lead her to a present-laden table. She took another swig of wine.
"What's wrong with her?" Ginny asked softly, noting her unfocused, not-quite-happy eyes, and completely fake smile.
"We'll know soon enough," Harry said.
"Where's Trace?" Luna asked.
By the end of the party, Hermione had finished off her bottle of wine and had switched to something stronger. The last of the partygoers gave her final birthday wishes and left the pub. Hermione's fake tiara sat crooked on her head as she settled at the bar. She poured a shot of Firewhiskey and tossed it back. Harry, Ginny, Wayne, and Luna were concerned at the morose manner in which she threw back a second shot. They sat beside her and she peered at the shot glass.
"Did you know this stuff is like dreamless sleep potion?" she asked and made to pour another shot.
Harry put his hand on the bottle to stop her. She scoffed.
"Get your bloody hand off my bottle, Potter," she hissed.
"What's wrong? If this is about--" he started.
"About what? Celebrating my thirty pathetic years on this Earth?" she said and slid off the stool. "Where's my wine?" she asked and turned to the table.
"Where's Trace?" Luna asked.
Hermione froze and gripped a chair. "I don't know," she said, her back to them.
"What do you mean, you don't know?" Harry asked.
Hermione turned back around, wavering, her eyes anguished and angry. "What I mean is that I don't know where he is! He left me yesterday!" she shrieked. "The tosser left a note on a vase of flowers!"
She found her wine bottle and up-ended it, frowning when nothing came out. She summoned the Firewhiskey by Harry's hand and took a generous swig before they could get to her. She put her hand over her heart and spoke dramatically.
"I will always think fondly of you and the time we shared," she sang, recalling the words from the note. She took another swig of whiskey, belched, and looked at her four dumbfounded friends. "That's what the note said, he'll think fondly of me. Well, bully for him. I'd rather not think of him at all!" she declared and brought the bottle to her lips.
Harry stepped forward and reached for the bottle. Hermione shook her head, stepped back and tripped over a chair. The bottle went one way, she another and she landed hard on her bum. She kicked the chair that tripped her and drew her knees to her chest. Their hearts went out to her when the tears started flowing.
"I just want to forget. Forget all we had, it's too hard to have it in here," she said, poking herself in the head. "Here I am, 30, and all I have is my cat."
She grabbed Ginny's arm and pulled the startled woman close. "Is it too much to ask for what you have?" she pleaded desperately. "What am I doing wrong?"
Harry knelt next to her while Wayne pried Hermione's fingers off Ginny's arm. "You've done nothing wrong. You're the best, and that plonker is mad to leave you," Harry said earnestly. "If you were mine, I'd—"
He stopped when he saw Ginny, Wayne, and Luna staring at him in surprise. He looked back at Hermione, whose head was resting on her knees. She was mumbling something unintelligible and poking herself in the head again. Ginny stopped her hand while Harry and Wayne pulled her to her feet.
"We need to get her home," Luna said.
"I'm calling her mum," Ginny said.
Harry and Wayne talked in Hermione's living room as Ginny prepared Hermione for bed. She was barely conscious and drunkenly fussed, but Ginny was patient with her heart-broken friend.
Wayne heard Ginny's voice and smiled. From the first time he met Ginny six years ago, he knew his life would never be the same. He had always been just a face in the crowd, just another Hufflepuff, until Ginny dropped her handbag on his foot that day six years ago outside of Fortescue's. Harry and his friends had always been in a "popularity bubble" as he had once told Ginny, and blokes like him were always on the outside looking in. When he married Ginny, he became fast friends with Harry, Ron, and Hermione. He had never seen closer friends than the three and they were just all-around good people. Wayne was now "one of them" as Luna and others often said.
Ginny came back into the living room. "She's fast asleep," she said.
"I'll stay here tonight," Harry said and patted the sofa. "She's watched over me enough times, I can return the favor."
A short time later they left and Harry took off his shoes and settled comfortably on the plush sofa. He heard Hermione's soft snores echo from the bedroom. He lifted his head when he heard her cough.
He rose from the sofa and went to the bedroom. She was on her side, snoring softly, clutching a pillow, her hair spread wildly over the pillow her head rested on. Her lips were slightly parted in sleep and he noted that she had the longest eyelashes in existence. Ginny had changed her into a simple pink cotton tank top, and because he had been focused on her pretty face, he didn't notice right away that Ginny didn't bother with bottoms. She merely pulled the sheet over Hermione's lower half. He swallowed heavily and against his better judgment, he dared to glance a few seconds longer where the sheet had ridden low on her hips. His breath hitched at what he saw.
She was wearing a g-string, a pink satin g-string at that! His world tilted on its axis. He would have never thought of her wearing such a thing. He took a good look at her again, suddenly feeling like a pervert. Here was his best friend since the age of 11, passed out drunk from a broken heart and all he could do was ogle at her. He quickly left the bedroom and flopped back down on the sofa. Sleep would be hard to find that night with visions of g-strings dancing in his head.
