All right, so this one is a bit shorter. But I prefer to say that it gets to the point in three thousand words or less. Either way, we are getting to the end. Also of note, a few of the lines of dialogue (if you read the books, you will know which ones they are #readthebooksoryou'renotarealfan ... I'm kidding, of course. Read them or don't read them, that is your choice, you have every right to make it, and don't let anyone tell you otherwise) were taken directly from the works of JK Rowling and used for the purposes of this chapter. I don't own, I merely borrow, etcetera as nauseum ... I hope you enjoy ...
- Chapter Fourteen -
Innocence Lost
That night, Hermione did not sleep. Her mind would not allow for it. Horrible nightmares plagued her dreams. Images flashing over and over again. Killian down on his knee, gasping, pleading for mercy as she rained down upon him with relentless rage. Running along dark corridors, hoping against hope to find him before he reached the Slytherin House, surrounded by cloaked figures with deep purple gloves dodging in and out of the shadows. It was a never ending reminder of her actions, actions she could not erase.
Everything had changed in an instant. The simplicity of their complexity was gone. In its place was an actuality of life that, while known, was never attached to them. There was good and bad in everything, in everyone. And this actuality, a demon by its own right, had nearly overwhelmed and shattered Hermione's very will. Only now, as she lay alone with her thoughts, awakened from another subconscious illusion, did she truly appreciate the consequences of her persistent desire to learn what Killian so desperately sought to keep from her. Only now, as her innocence faded away, did she truly understand.
The next morning was agony. OWLs were to begin after breakfast, but Hermione's mind was elsewhere. As she sat in the Great Hall amidst a plethora of foods and various juices, she feigned studying, burying her head in Achievement in Charming and avoiding all conversation entirely.
Across the hall, she stole an occasional glance toward the Slytherin table. This merely fed her feelings of emptiness as Killian made a brief appearance, grabbing a biscuit before exiting without a word. Even from across the hall, Hermione could see the wounds she had left upon him. He had made an attempt to hide them, but they were still visible to anyone who cared to look.
After breakfast, Hermione headed to her first OWL exam. Charms. It would be simple enough. Even with her mental distractions, Charms was a subject of near second nature to her. This was as much a curse as a blessing. The ease of the exam meant that there was little need for concentration. This allowed for her to wallow in her misery over the next two hours until she answered the final question and turned in her parchments.
After Charms, Hermione met up with Harry and Ron in the hope that some simple conversation would offer a distraction.
"Well, it wasn't too bad, was it?" Hermione asked as they walked along. "I'm not sure I did myself justice in the Cheering Charms, I just ran out of time. Did you put in the countercharm for hiccups?" she rambled on without pause. "I wasn't sure whether I ought to; it felt like too much. And on question twenty-three—"
"Hermione," Ron interrupted, "we've been through this before. We're not going though every exam afterward. It's bad enough going through them once."
Hermione had really hoped for something more from Ron. Perhaps she expected too much. It was not as though she could really blame him. Ron was just Ron. He would never be like … Well, he would always be Ron. Hermione just needed something, anything at the moment.
As they continued along towards the Great Hall in silence, Harry gave Hermione a sympathetic glance. She knew he could tell that something was wrong. He did not say anything, but he knew. His simple acknowledgment was enough to give him away.
She had never asked him of what he and Killian spoke of down by the steps leading to the boathouse. She was not entirely certain she wanted to know. If they did not speak of it, perhaps her secret could stay her own.
Although, with Fred, George, and Luna already being very much aware, Harry knowing would cause Hermione the least amount of concern. And Professor Snape knew, as well. And Draco. And who knows how many other Slytherins. The more she thought on it, the more Hermione began to realize that what she believed to be her secret was, in actuality, becoming more of a story that everyone knew but few wished to speak of.
Yet, even in realizing how far reaching the knowledge of her relationship with Killian had become, if said relationship even existed anymore, she still knew it was safely hidden to some degree. Almost hidden in plain sight. The Slytherin House could not speak of it due to the Unbreakable Oath they were all sworn to take. Professor Snape, for the sake of his house, she imagined, was holding his tongue, as well. And Fred, George, and Luna had never so much as uttered a word as far as Hermione knew. So there was some solace in that. Little, but some.
Lunch went the same as breakfast. Although this time, Hermione forced herself to eat something. Regardless of her emotional state, her stomach insisted that it needed some form of nourishment. Even so, several more glances at the Slytherin table left her feeling much the same as before.
The practical portion of the Charms OWL followed lunch. It went as well as Hermione had expected.
After the exam, the rest of the day was a fog. Hermione engaged in conversations with Harry and Ron but could not honestly say what it was they had talked about. It felt as though the world was moving on without her, and she was merely a spectator watching from the outside looking in.
That night in the Gryffindor common room, all the students gathered around and chatted away without a care. Hermione fell into the sofa across from the hearth, flipping mindlessly through her Transfiguration notes.
"Did you see Finn?" came the voice of a third-year boy.
"I saw him," said another. "Saw that knot on his head, too. Got himself into a bit of a tussle, looks like."
"Looks like," the first boy agreed. "Who do you think it was?"
"I dunno," the second said with a laugh. "Anyone missing?"
"Right, that'd give it away, wouldn't it?" the first chortled in return. "You don't think someone bested him, do you?"
"Who cares?" came a third voice from another boy who had joined the conversation. "He's a flippin' Slytherin … And one of Umbridge's gits at that."
Hermione got up from the sofa, seething, as she fought with every ounce of her constitution to hold her tongue. She wished that Fred and George were still there. They would have silenced those insolent third years. They would never have allowed for anyone to speak out against Killian, to speak out against their friend ... Her friend … Her … something.
But they were gone. Fred and George had abandoned their academics in lieu of starting their own joke shop. Hermione now wished she had left with them. As absurd as the idea appeared, it seemed a far simpler path at the moment.
Taking a deep breath to settle her emotions, Hermione left the common room and began to wander the empty halls of Hogwarts. Knowing there was no possible way she could sleep, retiring to the girls' dormitory would be nothing short of pointless. Still, she needed to be away from people. She needed to be away, in general.
Once removed from the bustle of the common room, Hermione found an area in the castle devoid of students and faculty. Believing herself alone, she closed her eyes, biting her bottom lip, and willing herself to release her thoughts and relieve the pressure in her heart that felt like an icy grip tightening further with every rhythmic pulse.
"Miss Granger?" came a voice from above.
Opening her eyes, Hermione saw Nearly Headless Nick hovering a few feet away.
"You're out late," he said. "Still getting in some last minute preparations? Ah, this time of year … All you children stressing your little minds. Almost tortuous to watch."
The tone in the voice of Gryffindor's resident ghost seemed to indicate more amusement than sympathy. But he also appeared to be a distracted as well, so perhaps it was unintentional. It seemed even the undead within the school had things on their minds better suited than what Hermione could not let go.
"No," Hermione answered. "I just needed to get some air."
"Well, you're not likely to get any in here," the spirited specter mused, pulling at his collar, causing his head to tip over and dangle on the side. "Air is so heavy, one can hardly breath. Or so I hear," he added with a silly grin that seemed even more ridiculous due to his inverted perspective.
Sadly, Sir Nicolas' attempt to liven her mood did little to sway Hermione. While she appreciated the effort, it simply was not to be. Before she could respond to his gesture, however, Peeves burst through the wall and began bounding back and forth, tipping the paintings on the walls, setting them all askew, much to the contempt of Sir Nicolas.
"You there!" he shouted, pointing wildly as he attempted to corner the pesky poltergeist whilst reapplying his head. "Enough of that!"
He screamed, he cried
He spit and spat;
He put a feather in his hat.
He squirmed and twisted
Spun around;
But poor Nicky's head just won't fall down.
Even in her current state, Hermione could not help but allow for a smile to creep from the corner of her mouth. As troublesome as Peeves could be, his incessant teasing, particularly of Sir Nicolas and Mr. Filch, had always been a pleasant distraction.
As Sir Nicolas streamed down the corridor in pursuit of Peeves, Hermione's brief release faded away. When silence fell, Hermione was alone and feeling no better off than she had when she left the Gryffindor tower.
Glancing around, she saw a number of sofas that had been placed about the hall, clearly set aside as a temporary study area for the ongoing OWLs and NEWTs. Choosing one adorned with lacey quilts, she flopped down, pressing her face into one of the several large pillows, taking in the scent of the goose feathers mixed with the fragrance of her hair that draped over her face. For several minutes, she lay in lonely quiet, enjoying the solitude and embracing her despair.
"Studying?"
Startled by the unexpected break in the silence, Hermione popped her head up and turned to see Luna standing by the corner of the sofa, clutching an oversized book to her chest while rocking back and forth on her heels.
"What?" she asked.
"Studying," Luna answered. "I do the same thing. Sometimes I get tired of reading the book, so I put my head in a pillow and visualize the pages on the inside of my eyelids. It's not always as accurate, so I have to check my work."
"No," Hermione said. "I just … I'm just …"
"You look awful," Luna said, sitting down on the edge of the sofa.
"Thank you, Luna," Hermione huffed, burying her head back within the comfort of the pillow.
"Did you break something?" Luna asked.
Hermione turned to Luna, dumbfounded, and saw the flighty Ravenclaw glancing aimless off towards the corner of the hall. No doubt she was looking for Nargles or something of the like.
Sighing, and feeling guilty for having though such a mean-spirited thing of Luna, Hermione sat up and tossed the pillow aside. It was not Luna's fault that Hermione felt the way she did. She had done nothing more than come across a fellow student at the wrong time.
"Why would you say that?" she asked.
"I once broke one of my father's eyepieces," Luna explained. "It was one of his favorites. I imagine I looked pretty awful when that happened."
"No," Hermione said, straightening one of the quilts simply to offer her idle hands a task. "Not exactly … I mean I guess I did," she went on. "Sort of."
"Why don't you fix it?" Luna asked.
"I can't," Hermione answered.
"Sure you can," Luna disagreed. "I fixed my father's eyepiece. It was almost like new. Just a little different, is all. Hadn't quite gotten the Mending Charm yet. But I hardly think he even noticed."
"It's not that simple," she explained. "I wouldn't even know how."
Luna stood and hugged her book to her chest again.
"Everything is difficult before you know how to do it," she said with a sweet smile. "But you never learn how until you try."
A moment later, Luna stood and walked off without another word, leaving Hermione bewildered as she watched her classmate disappear around a corner at the end of the hall. Her words, disentangling a convolution of emotions and impossible questions of what ifs and what could have beens, echoed in Hermione's head. Could it be that simple? Did she have even have the courage to try?
More questions … More doubts … It was going to be another long night.
. . .
The following morning, the OWLs continued … And the morning after that and the morning after that and so on. Hermione did her best to stay on task. Even still, she found herself constantly looking over her shoulder, hoping she might find Killian across the hall looking back at her. It was the wish of a fool and, as such, it went unanswered. While she would see Killian in passing most every day, it was as though they were strangers in a crowd … Strangers who averted their eyes and went on without a thought.
Over the next two weeks, the emotions around Hogwarts seemed to mimic those that festered within Hermione. As the OWLs continued, stress levels amongst the fifth years reached a climax. To make matters worse, Professor Umbridge continued to tighten her grip on the student body through further restrictions and regulations.
During the practical portion of their Astronomy OWL exam, the entire class of fifth years witnessed Hagrid being nothing less than assaulted by members of the Ministry. Although Hagrid managed to escape into the Forbidden Forest, it was not before Professor McGonagall was attacked herself while attempting to defend the fleeing half-giant. Everything was falling apart.
The morning after the vicious attack on the grounds outside the Astronomy Tower marked the final day of the OWL exams. The History of Magic. Hermione breezed through the exam with precision, wanting nothing more than to be done with it all. Once finished, she excused herself quietly so as not to disturb the students who continued to scratch away with their quills.
As she exited the Great Hall, she leaned up against the cold stone wall, closing her eyes with a heavy sigh.
At least that's over, she thought as a drove of students passed by.
Without looking, Hermione turned to head towards the Gryffindor tower. As she did, she slammed directly into the chest of a passing student who seemed as equally distracted and oblivious as Hermione.
Stepping back and looking up, Hermione's heart jumped into her throat as she saw Killian staring back at her. The surprise encounter eliminated the chance to look away and ignore each other. Their eyes were locked.
Hermione's voice was completely lost, not that she had any idea of what to say. She simply looked into Killian's eyes … Looking for an answer … Looking for a sign … Looking for anything.
What she saw, however, was not the confident, arrogant expression she had grown to know. In its place, she saw a flooding sadness. It was a sadness she had never witnessed before, pure and unadulterated. It did not show in his face. No, he was a Slytherin. Any show of emotions was buried behind a stoic facade. It was his eyes that gave him away. His eyes could not hide from her.
As they stood there, mere inches from each other, Hermione begged herself to react, to reach out for him. She could see Killian's hand flex at his side. She knew he was feeling the same conflict within himself. His jaw clenched and released, his mouth opened and closed ever so slightly, but no words came of it.
Everything is difficult before you know how to do it …
In a moment forgoing all thought and reason Hermione reached out and grasped his hand.
"Killian, I—"
Suddenly, a commotion erupted from the Great Hall. Hermione and Killian were pushed aside as the doors swung open and several students rushed out.
"Someone fetch Madam Pomfrey!" one student shouted as the other students in the hall began to gather around the doors.
"What's happened?" asked a curious onlooker, standing high on her toes, trying to look over the students and into the Great Hall.
"It's Potter!" the first student answered. "He's collapsed!"
Hermione gasped at the news. Turning back, her heart sank as she saw that Killian was gone. The fragile sliver of hope had fallen away, lost in the chaos of gawkers and gossip. As before, the wish of a fool, unanswered and forgotten.
Cursing the air, Hermione pushed her personal issues aside. Something was wrong with Harry. For the moment, she and Killian would have to wait.
