Next Wednesday. This Wednesday. Three days. I have three days.
Life's Too Short for 'What If's
The letter spiralled through Hermione's mind, no longer a relief but a burden. She had three days left to decide whether she was ready to face Ron again. Her blood ran cold every time she thought about it. What if it turned out to be a repeat of the last fiasco of a reunion? What if Ron still hated her? Worse yet, what if he wanted her back. It didn't help that Ginny was asking her whether she had made up her mind three times a day for the past week. Even throwing herself into her work, which she was entirely caught up on, left no dent in her anxiety.
It was Sunday afternoon and outside the sun was bright and there was an unofficial game of quidditch being played with anyone who wanted to join. Still, she was inside where the light didn't reach her, reading opposite the Headmistress, avoiding Ginny. The words in the novel didn't register in her mind, a series of nonsense words.
"Hermione?"
She perked up at the sound of her own name coming from those lips. She was thinking about Minerva in that way more and more, finding comfort in imagining those lips, that smile, those eyes, those hands, that everything. Almost every night it was the last thing she thought about. That woman made the whirlwind of thoughts die down. But now those lips were talking and she wasn't focused on the words. She shook her head to clear it.
"I said that you're distracted."
"I'm… a little." She had been practicing not saying she was fine when she wasn't, especially to McGonagall who always asked a second time when she did.
"You haven't turned a page in half an hour. Maybe you should go outside, get some fresh air."
Hermione shook her head again, her brow creased slightly. "No, I'd rather be in here."
"It's a lovely day."
"I know, but it's nicer being here."
Minerva's lips thinned a little. She could see right through the younger witch.
"What's bothering you, Hermione, and don't say 'nothing'." The authority in her voice was softened by the caring way she looked through her spectacles.
Instinctually, Hermione pulled a strand of hair into her mouth like she did when she was a child and her book fell closed on her lap.
"I can't stop thinking about Ron. I mean, Wednesday. Seeing him again."
McGonagall nodded and put down her quill, her hand sore from signing off on so many letters anyway.
"What is it about seeing him that's got you so upset?"
It was an annoying question. Hermione had been over this already, but she knew there would be some pearl of wisdom in return for an honest answer. "I'm not sure. Everything. I'm afraid he'll be angry and leave me for good, but I'm also scared he'll want me back. Romantically."
Reaching across the desk, Minerva reached out a hand and Hermione met her half way, letting those fingers curl around hers, holding her gently.
"It must be hard, especially after everything you've been through, but people don't always get a second chance to make things right with the ones they love, and you do."
"But I don't love him," Hermione objected, but the hand holding hers squeezed softly.
"Friends, lovers, family. It doesn't matter which. I know you still care for him in some capacity because you're extraordinarily kind and brave which is why I think that you will go, whether to give yourself closure or him."
"But what if-"
Without letting go, Minerva moved from her chair to perch herself on the desk, close enough to Hermione to reach her.
"Life's too short for 'what if's', dear. If he's still angry at you, then walk away. I'm certain Harry will stand by you. If he wants you back, then tell him no." As if remembering the past few months, she added, "But if you do decide you're not ready, then you don't have to go and I'll stand by your decision. Just be kind to yourself."
Hermione nodded. She was still unsure, but looking up at the other witch she didn't feel scared anymore. She felt safe. A hand came down to brush some hair behind her ear and curl down to stroke her cheek. It was so tender she could still feel her skin goosebumping even after Minerva had released her hand and returned to her seat. The moment was over and her book was now on the floor.
Remembering herself, Minerva cleared her throat and trained her eyes on the parchment she had creased by sitting on it, not wanting to look up or consider the intimacy of what she just did.
"Now, maybe you would go outside. You're pale as a ghost and need the sun."
Hermione knew she was being excused for some other reason, but solemnly put her book away and slid on her shoes. At the door she turned back to look at the head mistress, already back to work.
Ginny had been playing in the informal quidditch game over the lawn. Hufflepuff and Ravenclaw vs Gryffindor and Slytherin. It was great no rules, no teachers type fun, but when she saw Hermione standing below and off to the side she called for a tag in and swooped down to jump of her broom beside her friend.
"I'm flabbergasted to see you out of the castle today, 'Mione!"
Hermione rolled her eyes at the implication. "McGonagall kicked me out of her office."
"Good thing, too. You're pale-"
"As a ghost, I know. I just wanted to let you know I've made my mind up about Wednesday." She took a deep breath and felt a worm of indecision begging her not to say it. "I'll go."
Ginny clapped her hands together happily. "Don't worry about a thing, 'Mione, me and Harry will be there. We've got your back whatever happens."
The indecision worm became a serpent in her stomach. She had made another decision while talking with McGonagall, but it was bigger, scarier. Harry said he trusted her judgement, but she wasn't sure about Ginny and once Luna left, she would be the only friend left at Hogwarts, except…
"There's something else I need to tell you. Just not here."
The two girls moved quickly to find a quiet spot inside the castle which was empty thanks to the beautiful weather outside.
They sat side by side on a bench and Hermione focused on her breathing, trying to build up the bravery that Minerva saw in her. Thankfully, Ginny was patient although she held her breath in anticipation and couldn't hide her expression when it all came out.
Hermione told her about the depression, the Room of Requirements, and even the truth about the cat. That was the hardest part. She kept her head down but still took sideways glimpses to see how hard the other girl was fighting to show her emotions. The flashed through her eyes anyway. Shock, anger, desperation. When Hermione finished her hands were bound between her knees, knuckles white.
She didn't know what to expect from her friend who was unusually quiet. The silence stretched out into minutes and still nothing. The anticipation was painful, but Hermione waited it out, hoping her friend wouldn't launch into a Ron-like tirade about McGonagall. When she couldn't stand it anymore, she looked at her friend with pleading eyes to see that instead of anger there was only sorrow on the freckled face.
"Why didn't you tell me?" The usually boisterous voice was thin and sad.
"I didn't want anyone to know about Minerva," Hermione replied, her voice equally quiet.
"No, I meant about how you were feeling. Hermione, if you had told me how bad it was then I could have helped."
Taken aback, Hermione held Ginny's watery gaze. She didn't have a good answer, having had prepared for the other line of questioning. "I'm not sure. I guess I thought it would go away by itself or that if I told anyone I would become a burden."
"Hermione, I'd never think of you that way. You're my friend. I want to know when you're hurting. Never keep something like that hidden from me again, okay?"
Ginny had wrapped her arms around Hermione and held her tight. The older girl was too surprised to cry, but let her friend hold on.
"What about what I said about McGonagall?" Hermione asked, genuinely wanting her friend's opinion.
The ginger released her and pulled away to wipe her wet cheeks and shrugged. "If what you told me is true, then she saved your life. I can't possibly hate her for that."
Now it was Hermione's turn to get emotional, but instead of crying, she laughed to Ginny's surprise. "I wonder if Ron will see it that way."
"You're going to tell him?"
"If I'm going to make things right between us, I have to. I just hope I can trust him. I need to trust him."
"Well," Ginny's voice was returning to normal and she grinned the Weasley grin, "if he can't keep his trap shut, I'll make sure he pays for it." Then, more seriously, she gripped Hermione's arm. "You won't be alone, 'Mione. I'll be with you the whole way."
Hermione had never been so thankful to have Ginny for a friend.
Ron and Harry were already in the café when the girls arrived. Hermione saw them first and felt her body freeze in an instant. It was the first time she'd seen Ron since Fred's reunion, and though she was looking at his profile, the sight of him terrified her. All the possible outcomes of this day ran through her head, from his freezing her out completely, Harry taking his side, screaming, lunging, and amongst the chaos she could also picture the meeting ending with a kiss which scared her even more.
"Geez, Hermione, you look like you've been hexed," Ginny joked from beside her, hooking an arm around her shoulder to encourage her forward. "Harry and me are here, so I'm sure the three of us can take him."
Hermione tried for a smile but couldn't.
For three days she had regretted agreeing to this and now that she could see him, the fear reared up bigger than ever. She didn't know if she could do it. No, she knew she couldn't do it. Not face him. Not after everything that had happened, everything that had come true. She was frozen to the spot, her feet refusing to move and her face an open book of panic.
Beside her, Ginny had stopped too. She had been so good to Hermione since the admission and now she put herself between Hermione and the window.
"Look at me, Hermione." The humour had gone from her voice. Hermione looked. "I'm not going to let anything bad happen. Neither will Harry. So breathe," Hermione hadn't realised she had stopped, but she took in the air, "and take my hand. Focus on me and if you need any help just squeeze it. Okay?"
Hermione nodded. The panic was subsiding, but they waited a minute until her face was resolute.
She had just composed herself until Harry noticed them through the fogged up window and waved. Both girls waved back and Ron turned to look at them.
His expression changed quickly, from bare to tight-lipped and low-browed, although Hermione could swear there was a moment between when his eyes lit up in excitement.
The bell on the café's door jingled when they opened it and the instant warmth did nothing for the chill in Hermione's extremities. After Ginny kissed him, she greeted Harry with a stiff hug and stood awkwardly, not knowing how to greet her ex.
Still seated, Ron nodded to them and said a simple, "Hey," to no one in particular.
Hermione returned the expression and sat between Ginny and Harry. She knew that sitting between them was meant to make her feel better, but looking straight at the man she loved – had loved – made it harder. He was studying a menu beside his already full mug, handsome despite his scowl and it was hard to look away.
The silence became painfully long with them being the only current customers and simultaneously Harry and Ginny broke it.
"Do you two want-"
"We should probably order."
"Yeah, definitely."
Harry stood up quickly, "Butterbeer okay with everyone?" Before holding up three fingers for the barrister who nodded as if they served nothing else.
When he sat down again, Hermione had her elbow on the table, her hand covering her mouth which was stuck in a grimace. Her eyes tingled, but she wasn't going to cry.
"Oh, come on, this is ridiculous," Ginny finally said, "You've known each other for what, eight, nine years? Ron, say something."
She gave him a blatant glare and he scratched his forehead, gathering his thoughts.
"I just want to know what happened," he said when he did look up.
"So do I," Hermione replied, searching his tired eyes for an answer. "Ron, I don't know what to say that would make you understand. I don't know what part to try and explain first."
"Okay, how about explaining the map?" The words sounded harsh and even he flinched at the hardness that came through, but Hermione remained composed. This part she had rehearsed late at night, going over it in her head.
Glancing at the other two who looked back encouragingly, she started, "First, I need you to keep this to yourself," she punctuated this with a hard stare at the boy before taking a deep breath, "the map was telling the truth, but not in the way it got interpreted." She didn't want to say the accusations out loud as the barrister brought their drinks. "I've been sick recently and Min- McGonagall had been sort of looking after me."
"So she came and slept in your bed every night?" This time Ron didn't look ashamed, but Hermione met his look with one equally steely. His insinuations towards Minerva only served to make her feel stronger.
"As an animagus, yes. I didn't know it was her at the time and I think what she did wasn't right, but ultimately it helped me."
"How? How could that possibly help, and, Harry, am I the only one who thinks that is incredibly creepy?"
Surprised to have been called upon, Harry looked from his mug to either side of him.
"You slept with Peter Pettigrew until you were 13," Ginny pointed out, an eyebrow raised warningly. Under the table she had taken Hermione's hand.
With his voice back, Harry added, "And Sirius followed me as a dog for that whole year after he got out of Azkaban. It is pretty weird, but Hermione was going through a lot and if it helped, it helped."
For a moment Ron was stunned to have been cornered and Hermione paled at the red rising in his face.
"She was going through a lot? Harry, my brother died. My brother. You've lost more than anyone I know and she's going through a lot? She's fucking a woman nearly three times her age."
"Ron!" Both Harry and Ginny shouted at the same time before looking to Hermione.
She was biting the inside of her cheek but so far had remained tearless. "I'm having nightmares that leave literal bloody scars on my body. For a long time I couldn't eat, I couldn't sleep, I couldn't go to class. Do you want to know what I did when I found out that Minerva coming into my room? I lived in the Room of Requirements until the night I tried to put a blade to my wrist." Her voice was rising until it cracked. Looking at him, through Ron's angry exterior she tried to find the part of him that still cared. "If she hadn't let me into her office that night I would have killed myself and if she hadn't been keeping me company even as an animagus, I would have done it a long time ago." Shaking her head, she had to bite back a bitter laugh. "It's fine if you're going to angry at me. It's fine if you hate me. I hate me, too. But never assume you know anything about me or what I'm going through. You lost that right when you stalked me through the map and then left me by owl." She sighed. "I might as well tell you, I have been sleeping in her office, but only so she can keep an eye on me.
Hardly anyone had touched their drinks until then, but no one was keen to speak next.
Once again it came down to Ron, his voice growing smaller with each argument. "Why not sleep in Gryffindor tower?"
She rubbed an eye, already exhausted, "The nightmares. No one would get any sleep. McGonagall's letting me sleep on her couch so she can wake me up when they happen." She didn't think he deserved to know so much, but the weight of wondering how he might react was finally lifting off her shoulders.
Ron was about to open his mouth, but Ginny interrupted before he could say a thing. "I swear, Ronald, if your next question is about their relationship I will curse you so bad your grandchildren will be throwing up slugs."
Ron stared at her in shock and Harry rubbed his nose as if to conceal laughter. After a minute, the brother regained his senses, directing his words to Hermione.
"I was going to say that I don't hate you." His ears were tipped with pink and his voice was so quiet it was hard to hear him at all. "Right now I just hate myself."
He stopped there, unable to say any more. He looked so vulnerable that Hermione reached across and put her hand on his. She didn't see the look that passed between the other two.
When Ron did look up, he smiled at her, the same boyishly handsome smile that had made her fall in love with him in the first place. She patted his hand twice and went back to drinking her warm butterbeer. That eye-contact with the eager hopefulness was too much for her to take in. She didn't want to see that he still loved her. She didn't want him to see that she no longer felt the same way.
Once it was clear that the subject was over, Harry and Ron filled her in on Auror training and then talk turned to quidditch. Hermione watched and listened, and even though some of her worries had been put to rest, she still felt uneasy. Things would never be the same between her and Ron again, that much was obvious. In only several months their relationship had eroded with mistrust and hurt. Even if they did become close once again, she'd never feel for him the way he'd want her to, and knowing him he'd get upset and accuse her of being in love with Minerva. And he'd be right.
A/N: Woo, right on time. Trying to juggle the Hermione/McGonagall relationship with Hermione's illnesses and her relationship with other characters is tricky so I'm hoping I'm not leaning too heavily one way or the other. Thanks to to the Guest who pointed out the issue with how I break up time/paragraphs. I'll try and find something a little easier to see.
Thanks for the reviews! It's really encouraging.
