Perhaps Hermione had gauged the situation wrongly, she thought that Libelle had been going to contact her to arrange them meeting again. What if she was meant to be the one doing the arranging? She didn't have an owl or any means of contacting her, or maybe she was expecting too much, or for her to get in contact quicker than was reasonable. Hermione knew she was lonely, but she had to remember that not everyone's life was like hers, other people had groups of friends to keep them occupied, that they could sit and talk to for hours, and have a laugh with. Hermione used to have that, but not anymore, but Libelle might have that, Hermione didn't know. When you're lonely the world feels smaller, and you get used to instantaneous decisions because normally you are the only one making the decisions, and so to allow that to expand for someone else to make a decision feels like a very big deal. She considered contacting Ron and Harry to see how they were getting on with their auror training, especially now that Libelle had helped her see that she had to actively work towards what she wanted to do – and if that meant trying to get in through a route that she had previously disregarded, then she should give it a try. As a result of that persuasion she had spent her Monday afternoon and evening drafting out an application form for why she wanted to study magical law. If she applied for the training course and got in, it would only be a few years until she was fully qualified, and then she would be able to use whatever expertise she had gained to actually make a difference. That road seemed to have logical steps which would eventually empower her, whereas currently wallowing in loneliness while working in an archive wasn't ever going to open up possibilities for what she wanted to do.
Maybe Libelle had just been being polite about meeting up again; maybe she hadn't really wanted but just didn't know how to get away without suggesting anything. Hermione had really hoped that they would be able to meet up again; it wasn't often that adults got another chance to have a fresh start with someone. It had been a really nice prospect.
The large bay windows in the bedroom of Hermione's flat whistled when it was windy. She had found that out during the winter – and although she had attempted to repair it, and even once put a silencing charm on it when the wind was bad, it never stayed quiet for very long. At first it had bothered her, keeping her awake or causing her to wake during the middle of the night, but now she had grown rather accustomed to the sound. So when she woke during the middle of Monday night she assumed that it must have been a large gust of wind that had awoken her. The problem with waking up in the middle of the night was that Hermione often struggled to get back to sleep. Her hair was still damp from the shower she had had earlier on in the evening, she brushed her hair out of her face and listened to the sounds of her flat. There was something unusual, something different – that she couldn't quite place into the normality of her flat; a low tapping and scraping that she didn't know. She sat up and looked to the bottom of her bed, where Crookshanks usually laid curled up, but the cat was missing. Casting her eye around the dimly lit room she caught sight of his bottle brush tail poking out from underneath the heavy curtains in front of her windows.
"What are you looking at Crookshanks?" She mumbled sleepily, pushing back her duvet and wincing when her bare feet touched the cold floorboards. The cat meowed mournfully in response, but did not move. Hermione pulled the curtain back; the night was still at its darkest pitch and the little balls of orange glow illuminated around the street lamps cast an eerie glow down on the silent street. Crookshanks wasn't just staring forlornly into the dark space, perched on the outward ledge of the bay window was an owl, a letter clutched in its beak. It must have been the source of the noise that Hermione had been hearing. The bay windows were heavy to open, and Hermione had to use all of her force to pull it up. On second thoughts she knew she probably should have just used her wand, but that would have meant crossing back across the room to retrieve it from her bedside table. A blast of cold air hit Hermione as the window opened and the bird hopped inside.
"Who are you from?" Hermione asked as it deposited it's letter upon the seat of a chair and perched on the back of it. "Lumos!" Hermione said, in such a close proximity to her wand it lit up and cast a pure white light up the walls. She reached over to grab it so she would be able to see the writing on the parchment. The scroll of parchment was furled so tightly that if it hadn't been secured by a piece of ribbon, it wouldn't have held. Hermione's name was directly on the centre, scribed in beautifully sculpted handwriting.
'Dear Hermione,
Sorry for sending this so late – I'm not entirely sure where you live and how long it will take to get to you. I'm studying for a practice exam I have tomorrow, and I kind of lost track of time (I'm sure you know what that's like!). I was wondering if you'd like to come for a drink on Thursday night? I'll be finishing my mock exams and I want to celebrate, I know this great little pub that does the best cocktails. If that's not your sort of thing just let me know and we could do something different. I don't want you to feel like I'm forcing you to come, I just thought it would be nice to meet up again. Can you let me know whether that sounds alright with you? Hope to see you soon,
Libelle x
P.S. I've told Prince (my owl) to stay just in case you want to respond, (I wasn't sure whether you have an owl or not!), if you want him to go away just tell him – he's pretty good at obeying orders!'
Crookshanks was staring up at the owl rather suspiciously; the bird was suddenly encroaching upon his space, and he had never been one to trust easily. In the quiet Hermione could hear the low grumbling that he made when he was uncertain about things.
"Shush Crookshanks," Hermione told him. "This is Prince, he's not for target practice…" She carried her illuminated wand over to her desk, selected a piece of parchment and grabbed her quill.
'Hi Libelle,
Thanks for your message. I hope your exams aren't creating too much stress for you. I'd love to come out on Thursday! Shall I come and meet you at college? See you soon,
Hermione x.'
She rolled up the piece of parchment that she used and wrote Libelle's name on the front, then carried it over to the chair where the bird was still sitting.
"Here you go Prince," Hermione held the letter firmly until it was clamped into Prince's beak, "Will you take that back to Libelle for me?" She reached out her finger and gently stroked the side of the owl's head; it gave a faint hoot before taking off through the window which Hermione had left open. Hermione waited by the open window for a few minutes until she could no longer see the dot in the sky that was Prince. The night outside was still quiet only right off into the distance was there a blurring of the navy sky – light was beginning to creep in. She closed the window and padded back to her be, the duvet still ruffled from when she had gotten out. She clambered back into her bed and could feel the warm weight of Crookshanks at her feet.
"I'm going out on Thursday." She told the cat, who was now purring in comfort. "With Libelle, for cocktails." Crookshanks continued to pur, and she felt a similar glow inside her. "Nox." She mumbled, the warmth inside her and around her tempting her back to sleep, the light from her wand tip extinguished and she fell back into a sleep.
"So?" Ceri was standing with her hand on her hop at the entrance to the college building, Libelle had just turned up looking more dishevelled than she usually did: it looked like she had been up all night studying.
"So what?" Libelle asked, her mind felt like a wrung sponge and she was in no way ready for this exam. This response, however, was not what Ceri wanted to hear – she folded her arms across her chest in fury and scowled.
"You know perfectly well what! You told me you were going to let me know – about Hermione!" Ceri replied sharply.
"I know, I know – but I didn't get a reply until this morning and by the time I sent Prince to you I would have already seen you." Libelle told her.
"So you did it?" Libelle questioned excitedly. "You wrote to her?"
"Yeah." Libelle said, she felt that Ceri's enthusiastic response was even more excited about it than she felt. "I told her I had my mock exams this week and that I wanted to celebrate when we're finished on Thursday, and I asked her if she wanted to go for a drink with me."
"And?" Ceri prompted eagerly, Libelle could feel her cheeks beginning to flush pink with this conversation. "What was her response?"
"Yeah, she's going to come." Libelle couldn't help but grin at this.
"You are just going the two of you, aren't you?" Ceri asked, "Don't feel you need to invite anyone else. Get to know her, see if she likes you!" Ceri almost sang the last phrase.
"I don't think she does, not like that." Libelle answered quietly, glancing around to make sure no one had overheard them. The problem with a small college like MAE was there wasn't enough gossip for the grapevine to be satisfied, and Libelle didn't particularly want to be discussed as topic of the week.
"You never know, 'Belle, you never know." Ceri said blandly.
"I don't know, but I can be pretty sure." Libelle answered, "I went to school with her, remember?"
"Yeah, and she went to school with you – do you think you're everything she thought about you?" Ceri retaliated, for a moment all of Libelle's school days flashed before her eyes. Draco acting like a dick, desperate to be someone, to be taken seriously – joining the Death Eaters to honour the family tradition, and to try and prove to himself that he could be what was wanted of him, that he could be him. Libelle suppressed an involuntary shudder, whatever Hermione had thought about Draco at school it couldn't have been pleasant.
"She slapped me once, at school." Libelle recalled, "Like a proper slap too, not just a little tap."
"What had you done?" Ceri asked.
"I wasn't a very nice person at school," Libelle precluded warningly. "And I called her a mudblood."
"Well you deserved that slap then, didn't you?" Ceri said bluntly.
"I certainly did, I just don't want her to think that's what I'm like." Libelle voiced her worry; the two of them were standing underneath a high window, they still had a little bit of time before their practice exam, and some other students were beginning to congregate.
"Well prove to her that that's not what you're like anymore." Ceri let her bag slip off her shoulder and placed it at her feet. "It sounds like she already knows that you're not like that anymore, otherwise she wouldn't be willing to meet up with you surely."
"I hope so…" Libelle muttered, "Anyway, we should be looking over transfiguration, now while we've got the opportunity." Ceri rolled her eyes at Libelle.
"You always take these things so seriously…" She commented, slouching against the wall.
"Of course I do." Libelle agreed, "If I get good results in these practice exams I might get offered a place in one of the healer courses instead of having to wait for my actual results and making a mad dash to try and secure a place."
"I see," Ceri grinned. "I think I'll be at the front of the mad dash."
"Hermione, Hermione." Gladioli's shrill whisper rung through the quiet archive; Hermione had been working at one of the shelves close to the front so heard Gladioli before she became a nuisance.
"What?" Hermione hissed lowly, sticking her head out from round the end of the row she was working in. Gladioli waved something at her, trying to gesture for Hermione to come and collect it.
"This arrived for you!" She said, extending her hand with a letter in it right out in front of her.
"Alright, thank you very much." Hermione responded, taking the letter from her, she recognized the excessively tightly furled scroll and the neat handwriting on the outside; Gladioli stood, waiting expectantly. "Can I help?" Hermione asked her after a few seconds.
"Ain't you going to open it?" She asked, being a receptionist must be deadly dull if she was getting her excitement through watching someone else open a letter. "Who's it from? Have you got a boyfriend?"
"No." Hermione answered indignantly, "I'm just arranging to go out with some old school friends. Thanks for delivering this." She indicated the letter and turned to go back to the row she had been working in, leaving Gladioli standing looking disappointed.
Back in the row that Hermione was working in she unstuck the scroll and allowed it to unwind, she could feel herself smiling before she had even read any of the message.
'Hi Hermione,
Thanks for getting back to me so quickly :). That sounds like a great plan! (Just to check, I'm hoping you know where the MAE college building is! If you don't, I've included a map of the surrounding area so you can find it. If you do know where it is please ignore all of this.) I'll meet you about five-ish outside the building, and then we can go for drinks. Looking forwards to seeing you, Libelle x'
Underneath the message there was a little hand drawn map including several streets and buildings with arrows depicting exactly what they are, and a tiny little stick figure person standing outside the building labelled MAE. Hermione could only assume that that stick figure was meant to be herself. Hermione thought of Libelle, she was probably in her exam now, she thought how strange the whole situation was… Then she smiled down at the parchment, she couldn't verbalise exactly why, but the message made her very happy. This was Tuesday and on Thursday she'd be seeing Libelle again.
Libelle tugged nervously at the hem of her skirt, trying to make the ruffled hem sit more neatly just above her knee.
"This is too much, isn't it?" She asked for the umpteenth time, Ceri rolled her eyes as Libelle continued to straighten her perfectly straight skirt.
"No it's not," Ceri replied with a sigh, "You look really, really lovely." Libelle smiled uncertainly; she knew that she should be thinking about more important things right now – like this morning's exam – but that was difficult. She had spent more time doing her hair than she had checking over her defence notes.
"Are you sure?" Libelle repeated.
"Absolutely positive." Ceri told her, Ceri was looking a tad more dishevelled than usual, perhaps she had finally heeded Libelle's advice and was taking these exams seriously. "So where are you taking her?" Ceri asked, readjusting the bag she had over her shoulder.
"I thought we could go to that pub, the one we went to on Monday," Libelle answered. "Have a few drinks in celebration of mocks being over before I have to start working towards the real exams."
"And try and get into her pants at the same time," Ceri commented cheekily but this comment had the opposite result to the desired reaction. Libelle instantly felt like she had been doused in cold water; getting into someone's pants – as Ceri so delicately put it – was the last thing that Libelle wanted to think about. How on earth could anyone else feel comfortable, with her body when she couldn't herself – when she wasn't right? Her body didn't match who she was, and the reminder of that hung over all throughout her day. Getting dressed in the morning was always the first jolt that the outside body didn't match the inside one, and she didn't want to look like a drag act which meant that she did have to be careful with some clothes that displayed certain parts of her anatomy that she was yet to get rid of. Going to the toilet, too, was a frequent reality check; she was always aware that in a public place – not at MAE – someone might challenge her for using the ladies toilets, that was always a very present reminder that she still didn't fit. Even today when she had selected her outfit so carefully, and had strapped it up so thoroughly that it couldn't be seen from any angle, but made her a tad concerned about the ability to pee; and she was wearing the bra that she had bought herself and filled with silicone padding which was meant to mould to the cup shape and give the impression of a fuller cup size (or in Libelle's case any cup size, she was still flat up and down). She had taken her time on her make up this morning as well, trying to accentuate the more feminine of her features and diminish the masculine. Even with all of those efforts that she had made today, a single comment like that from Ceri made her come crashing down, reminding her of the truth.
"Why do you always have to do that?" Libelle snapped, demonstrably aggrieved.
"Do what?" Ceri asked, looking genuinely taken aback by Libelle's sharpness.
"Always reduce everything down to the sexual side?" Libelle stated. "That's not what I'm looking for right now, and I doubt anyone would be interested, seeing that I have the wrong fucking genetalia." Libelle sighed, she hadn't meant to sound so militant; Ceri was looking sheepish. "Sorry… It's just that's not really what's on my mind right now."
"Sorry, I didn't think…" Ceri apologised. "I forget, I'm so used to you being Libelle that I don't see anything else, I forget that you… well…" She tailored off.
"Still have a penis?" Libelle found herself supplying the end of Ceri's sentence, but with more vehemence than she intended.
"Yeah… sorry." Libelle deflated slightly, Ceri really didn't mean any offense.
"It's okay." She said, "I just wish I could forget that easily," There was a silence as it seemed Ceri didn't know what to say next.
"So where are you meeting her?" Ceri injected a trace of light into her voice as she tried to get away from the previous awkwardness.
"Here." Libelle replied, resuming some sort of normality. "She's going to meet me at the entrance after she finishes her work. It means I might have to hang about for a while after the exam but I can always go to the library, start revising for the real things." Ceri rolled her eyes.
"You really do take this seriously." She laughed, "I can always stay with you afterwards for a bit. Don't worry; I won't gate crash your date or anything." She reassured with a grin.
"It's not a date." Libelle reminded her.
"Not yet anyway." Ceri prompted.
"Shut up." Libelle nudged her, looking bashful.
Surprisingly Libelle managed to focus rather well during her Defence against the Dark Arts mock. She had expected her mind to wander and land on her meeting at the end of the day, but she remained focused. Maybe it was because she was desperate to prove that she could be good at working against the Dark Arts, contrary to her past history with them. She managed to craft out what she felt was well constituted and considered arguments during the written section without even having one moment of panic. If her real written exam went as well as she felt that one had gone, there was no way that she wouldn't get an 'O'. Her practical passed without any disasters, from her at least, there were a few mis-aimed jinxes and forgotten incantations around the rest of the room, but Libelle was having no problem with concentrating on her task to be done. She even surprised herself by managing to cast a successful patronus charm. It had been her aunt Bellatrix who had taught her the theory of that charm, back when Draco was being prepared as an assassin, when occlumency and legilimency were being poured down his throat like the nectar of life. Those lessons were supposed to equip Draco with everything he might need to be able to succeed without betraying them first. Aunt Bellatrix had only been able to explain the theory of the patronus charm – she was not able to cast one herself, she no longer possessed the necessary requirements to do so. Libelle wasn't convinced that Aunt Bellatrix had ever experienced a truly happy moment that wasn't dripping in psychopathy and psychosis. Back then Draco's patronus had materialised in the form of a snake, which had been incredibly unsurprising at the time, but much to Libelle's surprise when her class at MAE came to studying the charm for their NEWTs, the figuration of her patronus had changed. In place of the rather feeble snake that it had been into a rather majestic looking dragonfly… Libelle had had to leave the classroom as the tears overwhelmed her. That made this whole process worth it – all the heartache and everything – when her patronus finally acknowledged who she really was. So when she stepped out of the room at just before ten to four Libelle felt a huge sigh of relief come over her; she had done it, she had gotten through those preliminary exams. Now all she had to do was wait until she got the results back, and then she'd know what to do for the real exams. There was the usual burst of conversation, in which some bemoaned ill desired questions, talked about the next mock that they had, or congratulated people on them finishing their last mock. Libelle had only said a couple of words to Jordan before Ceri had grabbed her hand and was pulling her along.
"Come on," She said, Libelle was resisting from Ceri's pulling.
"Where? What are you doing?" Libelle asked dumbfounded.
"Come on, I'm going to touch your make up before you go to meet with Hermione!" She insisted.
"Okay, alright." Libelle allowed herself to be dragged off towards the girls' toilets.
"So, are you excited?" Ceri asked.
"I'm glad that the exams are over." Libelle replied demurely, she was trying to downplay her excitement. Ceri steered Libelle to the sink and made her lean against one before fishing through her own bag and retrieving her make up bag. She started very delicately to brush blusher across Libelle's cheeks. "I had already put make up on this morning."
"I know, I know – and it looks very nice, but I'm just refreshing it so it's fresh." Ceri told her, holding a pencil to Libelle's eyes while she grinned.
"Thanks Ceri." Libelle said.
"You are very welcome." Ceri answered, grabbing Libelle's shoulders and turning her around to face the mirror. Her silver eyes were brought out by the grey eyeliner that Ceri had applied, the pink rouge across her cheeks and an equally pale pink lip gloss on her lips.
"Oh wow," Libelle breathed putting the tips of her fingers to her face.
"Right, come on, let's go and find a window to sit at until she arrives." Ceri suggested. Libelle knew that this wasn't a date, that this was just the two of them meeting up as friends to go for a few drinks. Her heart was fluttering uncertainly in her chest as she sat, and she was so nervous that she could hardly hear whatever Ceri was talking about.
By half past four Libelle could hardly contain herself, but it was about then that Ceri glanced out of the window and gave a triumphant whoop.
"Hey 'Belle! Isn't that Hermione?" She pointed to a figure standing just outside the entrance to the MAE foyer; the figure was close enough to just be distinguishable as a girl with long brown hair.
"What?! It looks like her…" Libelle stood up to look out of the window. "She's not meant to be out of her work until five!"
"Maybe she got out early because she was too excited to wait longer" Ceri nudged Libelle suggestively.
"I – I…" Libelle stammered uncertainly.
"On you go then!" Ceri chivvied Libelle away from the window towards the steps that would lead down to the foyer. "I'll watch you from here, and remember – I want to…"
"Know all the details." Libelle finished her sentence for her. "I know, I'll let you know."
It was Hermione, Libelle could see that before she was out of the foyer; she took a deep breath, willing her legs not to turn to jelly. She needed to calm down and stop being so serious – this was not a date, just a meeting up as friends. Yet she still felt stupidly embarrassed and nervous.
"Hermione?" Libelle asked, her voice cracking slightly as she approached her.
"Libelle!" Hermione's face broke out into a grin as she saw Libelle standing there. Quite unexpectedly Hermione reached out and gave Libelle a quick hug; despite the height difference between them she did a pretty good job. "Is that you finished?" Libelle nodded, still not quite sure what to say next but she knew she needed to find her voice quickly. "Congratulations! That'll be a weight off your mind for a little while."
"Yeah," Libelle agreed. "Now it'll be the real ones that I have to worry about once I've got the results back from these ones." Libelle felt like she could feel Ceri's eyes boring into her from the window they had been sat at in the building. "Shall we go?" She suggested, eager to get away from that omnipresent feeling.
"I'll let you lead the way." Hermione said, "I'm not entirely sure where we're going." The two of them began to walk away from the college, Libelle leading the way. "Will you have to wait long for the results of those exams?" Hermione asked, Libelle was beginning to feel her nerves creeping up on her again as she walked alongside the petite figure of Hermione.
"I hope not," She told Hermione. "They're all being marked within the college, so hopefully it won't take them too long. It's not like the little pub that she was intending to be their destination. "It's in here." She indicated to the door, suddenly aware of how grotty the place must look. "It's worth it. I promise." She pulled open the door and held it open for Hermione to enter. "There's some nice tables over at the back." Libelle advised, she was beginning to wonder if this pub had been such a good idea. It was very quiet, with only two other people visible, but that made Libelle feel like they were the centre of attention, and that made her feel very uncomfortable.
"This is beautiful!" Hermione exclaimed as they sat at one of the tables next to the window, overlooking the garden with violets and lavender in it. "How did you find out about this place? I mean, it doesn't look that inviting from the outside."
"Yeah, that's what I thought too." Libelle laughed. "It was a friend of mine who insisted we come in here, she told me they do really nice cocktails and then kinda frogmarched me inside."
"I can't imagine you being frogmarched anywhere." Hermione responded disbelievingly.
"Oh believe me, it's probably much easier than you would imagine." Libelle told her as she picked up one of the menus from the table, "Come on, let's have a drink." Hermione picked up the other menu and perused it, Libelle was trying to act as though she didn't notice that Hermione's eyes were flickering up to look at her from over the menu every few seconds.
"What are you fancying?" Hermione asked after a few moment, Libelle felt her heart stutter in her chest as she suppressed the instinctual reaction to that question. "I'll get the first drinks." Hermione said, laying down her menu and picking up her bag; Libelle began to protest this, but Hermione shook her head. "Nope, this is a celebration of you finishing your mocks, so I'm buying you your first drink, alright?" Hermione announced this so firmly that Libelle knew that there was no point in trying to argue and she nodded submissively. "Good, now what would you like?"
"I'll have whatever, I like pretty much everything." Libelle replied, and then almost instantly regretted it – she had only tried one cocktail from here and she had no idea if she would like any of the rest. She wished her heart rate would calm down a little bit now they were here, otherwise she was going to be thoroughly exhausted in about ten minutes. When Hermione returned she was carrying two long thin glasses of a bright pink liquid and wearing a big smile across her face.
"It's a strawberry daiquiri." Hermione explained, placing the glass down in front of Libelle. "I think it looked intricate enough for a toast." She sat down and raised the glass towards Libelle. "To your exams being over – the first lot anyway, and to never giving up your dreams." Libelle's glass clinked against Hermione's before she took a drink; it was much sweeter than she had anticipated.
"Now all I've got to worry about is the real exams." Libelle muttered, trying to grab onto a topic that they could discuss rather than sitting in a rather awkward silence.
"I doubt you actually need to worry about them though." She was sounding uncannily like Ceri often did. "If I recall correctly when we were at Hogwarts you were nipping up my heels in nearly every subject!"
"I think you must be recalling that wrong." Libelle conceded. "Maybe one class – potions, but that was because I had help from Snape… But all the rest you were leaps and bounds ahead of all of us, you were probably ahead of most of the folk in the year above us."
"You're exaggerating there." Hermione answered, but Libelle noticed that her cheeks had gone very pink. "You shouldn't put yourself down so much, I know how good you were at school – you could have given me a run for my money with your eyes shut."
"I maybe had a bit of a head start, but you didn't take long to catch me up!" Libelle laughed, "I had to work at it, you know? I didn't just breeze through everything without putting in any effort, I used to really study – just not in the public eye… I had the added disadvantage of Crabbe and Goyle as well. I'm pretty sure they could have made a genius look thick if they were saddled with them as sidekicks." Hermione smiled sympathetically. "No I mean it, the two galumphing gargoyles could barely read until they were in second year, it's incredibly difficult to have any kind of intelligent conversation with someone who's got the mental age of a nine year old."
"And I thought Ron and Harry were bad…" Hermione chuckled loudly.
"Believe me, Ron and Harry could have done anything and they still wouldn't have matched up to Crabbe and Goyle…" Libelle assured, "I would have done pretty much anything to get in with a bunch of half decent people rather than been lumbered with people who were just children of my dad's friends."
"I guess it must be more difficult if you already knew people, I didn't know anyone when I arrived, and it took me a while before I managed to fit in." Hermione had been so desperately excited to go to Hogwarts that she hadn't blended in instantly. Her first few months had been quite lonely as she tried to fit in with her classmates and tried to absorb as much information about this new world she was inhabiting, it hadn't been until the incident with the troll that Hermione had fallen in with Ron and Harry.
"I wish I hadn't known anyone." Libelle repeated, "But unfortunately I did, and I got stuck with them. I did try, really early on, to break out of that group, but I can't claim that I was a very nice person – or that I was any good at relating to other people, so most of the time I just ended up insulting people. I think both Crabbe and Goyle's fathers had told them to stick with me, and that's exactly what they did - like limpets." There was a frown on Libelle's face as she said this and Hermione remembered, with a jolt, that Crabbe had died during the Battle of Hogwarts.
"Do you miss him – Crabbe?" Hermione asked quietly.
"I do, but it's not an overwhelming sense of loss. It's crap what happened, but he brought it upon himself, believe me I've done a lot of thinking about it." Libelle assured Hermione.
"Did they know?" Hermione asked, then suddenly her face blanched white and she looked very embarrassed. "Sorry." She mumbled, placing her drink onto the table in between them.
"About me, do you mean?" Libelle questioned, normally when her mother or Ceri, or anyone else who knew the truth mentioned it, she would experience a pang of anxiety followed by a desire to change the subject immediately. But when it was Hermione asking, that panic and discomfort didn't flood Libelle as was usual. "I don't think either of those two would have understood what the word gay meant, let alone transgender. Hell – I didn't know what transgender meant until about a year and a half ago!" Libelle laughed very sharply. "Even if I had known while I was at school, that there was a name for how I was feeling and that other people felt like that too, I don't think I would have told them anyway. They were still living in the dark ages."
"That must have been quite lonely though, not being able to talk to anyone about it." Hermione commented.
"I remembered one time in fourth year Snape tried to talk to me about it." Libelle recalled, a grin spreading across her face.
"Snape?!" Hermione spluttered, almost choking on her drink. "That must have been awkward…"
"It was around the time of the Yule Ball and, although I wasn't aware of it, my father had matched me with a suitor, that was his Christmas present to me – to find me a wife." Libelle explained, "Snape had been on my case for weeks to ask someone to the Ball. I could see afterwards that he had been trying to get me to pre-empt my parents and show them I could make a respectable choice of a pureblood to court."
"Didn't you go to the Yule Ball with…"
"Pansy Parkinson, yes." Libelle cut over Hermione. "Who actually did fit into the 'respectable pureblood family' requirement, but by then it was too late."
"I can't imagine being fourteen and being told that someone's found a wife for you." Hermione shook her head. "I can't imagine ever being told that my parents had picked a suitor for me, that just seems so… so…"
"Medieval?" Libelle provided.
"Yes!" Hermione exclaimed, putting her nearly finished glass down onto the table with some force. Libelle could feel her cheeks echoing the colour of the strawberry daiquiri she was drinking, there was something scarily exciting about Hermione when she was angry or passionate. This was easier than she thought, even with her heart still going quicker than usual, she didn't know why she had been so nervous and worried. But it already felt like Hermione was someone she had known for years – well, someone she had known intimately for years. She was at ease when she was talking to Hermione, like she could talk about anything at all.
"That's what being a Malfoy is all about." Libelle told Hermione. "But yes, it is very medieval."
"So what did you do? I can't see either you or your father giving up on the issue lightly." Hermione asked.
"No he didn't want to. I tried to tell him I wasn't ready for marriage or anything, like I was too young, but he would always disregard that because my mother and him got married when they were very young – like seventeen and eighteen." Libelle told her, it was weird to think of the time before. When Draco was doing anything and everything he could to find a way out of this arrangement without admitting that he didn't want it because he didn't like girls – and trying to skirt and repress the inner conflict that was unravelling in him. Before he had to step up and make decisions that he didn't want to because he needed to honour the family name because he had already besmirched it enough simply by being. "When that excuse didn't work I tried to simply refuse, saying that I wouldn't do it – I would rather leave home and never come back, that if they forced me I would ignore my new wife and never touch her so they wouldn't get the grandchildren they wanted. I threatened to tell the Ministry about all of father's artefacts, I tried anything."
"And they still wouldn't listen?" Hermione said.
"I had caught my mother's attention by that point, I think at the beginning she thought I was just reacting like that because of the shock, but then the longer it carried on she must have realised how serious I really was about not wanting it. She convinced my father that I was clearly not ready and that they should postpone it until I was ready to act like a grown up – she made it sound like she was telling me off, but she was actually trying to protect me."
"That's still pretty steep stuff to have been dealing with, especially with Voldemort getting powerful at the same time." Hermione said, her eyes wide, Libelle shrugged.
"It just kind of happened; there was nothing that I could do to change that." She said, "I can't even remember exactly when it was but during that summer just after the Dark Lord came back, my father brought up the whole marriage betrothal thing again and I screamed at him that I was gay and didn't want to get married." Hermione gasped audibly, she was leaning forwards in her seat now, visibly hanging on to every word that Libelle was saying, this was quite a nice phenomenon for Libelle, people actually being interested in her because they cared. "He never actually said anything against me being gay, not to my face anyway… he just kind of dropped the marriage thing, but I always felt like he was disappointed, like I wasn't living up to the expectation he had of me… And you know what happened next with the Dark Lord and the Death Eaters and everything, and I tried to prove to my father that I could still be what he wanted."
At this point they were interrupted by the barman who had come over to clear their empty glasses away.
"Do you ladies want another drink?" He asked while picking up the empty glasses, Hermione and Libelle looked at each other momentarily then nodded.
"Yeah, why not." Libelle agreed and the barman went away, Hermione's grin faded until her face looked rather impassive as she stared at the barman who was making their drinks. "What?"
"It's strange, isn't it?" She muttered, she was gazing dreamily ahead of her, with her eyes glazed over.
"What is?" Libelle couldn't conceal the hint of worry from creeping into her voice.
"If someone had told me a year ago that I'd be sitting having drinks with you just now I think I would have laughed in their face." Hermione replied. "But here we are."
"I know," Libelle answered, feeling the tense knot that had wound up inside her so suddenly begin to loosen. "After last May I hadn't wanted to see anyone from my time at Hogwarts ever again – but here I am, and this is more than just pleasant."
"The universe is strange that way." Hermione smiled, she had leant forwards in her chair again and Libelle could almost physically feel the intensity of her gaze.
"Here we go ladies," The barman had returned with their glasses, placing them on the table in front of them with a flourish.
"Thank you very much." Libelle said to him, he bowed his head slightly then returned to the bar. Libelle could tell that Hermione was still gazing at her and she couldn't quite tell whether that made her feel uncomfortable or just slightly embarrassed, her cheeks were beginning to go pink – but perhaps that could be the effects of the alcohol.
"Why did you choose Libelle?" Hermione asked quickly after taking a long sip from her daiquiri. "Just tell me to shut up if I'm being too nosy… It's an interesting name, I don't think I've ever heard it before." Libelle grinned, she had spent quite a while pondering her name – she knew that if she was changing it entirely, as opposed to simply using the feminine form of Draco, then she had to find a name that suited her. "It's not a star, is it?" Libelle blinked.
"How do you know about that?" Libelle asked rather surprised, Hermione let out a short burst of laughter.
"Your mother was a Black, wasn't she? Sirius told us once that the Blacks were named after the lights in the heavens to detract from the darkness of their natures." Hermione explained.
"For that I would agree with him." Libelle nodded.
"Even if he hadn't told us, it's kind of obvious to spot the pattern." Hermione pointed out. "I mean: Sirius, Regulus, Orion, Arcturus, Bellatrix, Andromeda… Although come to think of it I don't know of a constellation called Naricssa…"
"There isn't one." Libelle told her. "Although by the sounds of it, you know more about my family tree than I do!"
"There was a big old tapestry in Grimmauld Place with the Black family tree on it." Hermione justified, suddenly realising that she had sounded just a little bit obsessed. "It had you on it, and the rest of your mother's side."
"I'm sure I've heard about that before, probably from Bellatrix, she was always fuming on about something." Libelle muttered. "I think my mother was the first for a long time to not be named after a star. A 'Narcissa' is a kind of flower, although I think if you buy it as a bulb it's called a Narcissa star. I don't know whether that actually had any bearing on my grandmother, I simply think she just didn't want three girls named after stars, so she chose something different."
"Good on her." Hermione nodded.
"Yeah…" Libelle agreed, "I considered a flower name, I considered a star name as well, but I couldn't find one that fit, or that didn't sound like I was copying someone else."
"What names did you consider?"
"Well I liked the names Aster and Calla." Libelle began, "But no matter how many times I said them either looking at myself or not, it just never seemed to suit me. And I liked the name Lily, but that was always going to be a no go."
"Why?"
"I didn't want to be seen to be copying Lily Potter, with my history that would have been a very big mistake." Libelle pointed this out as though it should have been obvious.
"I don't think people would have put two and two together really." Hermione said calmly.
"The average person might not, but I'm pretty sure that the Daily Prophet would put it together in a flash and it would be me made to look like the weird, bad one." Libelle justified. "I'm hoping that no one will find out, but if they do then I want to minimise the damage."
"That's fair enough." Hermione shrugged her shoulders passively. "So Libelle's not a star, or a flower, so what is it?"
"It's actually not really a name at all…" Libelle admitted, running her finger around the rim of the glass. "I wanted to pick something that would have some kind of meaning to me, to the new me." Hermione waited patiently, she didn't want to push Libelle any more than she already had. "It means dragonfly in Dutch."
"Dragonfly?" Hermione repeated, unfortunately the language she had learnt during her primary muggle education had been French, so Dutch and its derivatives were definitely foreign to her.
"Do you know what the life cycle of a dragon fly is?" Libelle asked curiously.
"Not really." Hermione answered, shaking her head again.
"They begin their lives as sort of nymph things, the eggs are lain in water so when they hatch they look like these hideously alien creatures." Libelle told Hermione. "And they stay under water until they've nearly reached adulthood, and it can take a long time for that to happen. When they're ready to crawl out of the water and shed their nymph skin and emerge as a fully fledged dragonfly. It's only at adulthood, after a long time getting ready, that we recognise them for what they really are. I wanted to have that kind of transformative moment, where I could leave my old self behind – the bit that isn't really me – and emerge as the real me."
"That's… That's really sweet!" Hermione exclaimed and Libelle could feel herself beaming that she had managed to explain that so eloquently.
"Thanks," She nodded. "It's a bit strange that since I've changed my name to Libelle my patronus had changed, it used to be a snake and now it's a dragonfly."
"That just proves that it's meant to be!" Hermione reiterated.
"I think you're right about that, and it's meant that I'm totally right about being Libelle." She agreed, "It's easier to be a nice person when I don't feel like some kind of freak."
"You're definitely not some kind of freak!" Hermione protested, reacting out her hand and placing it on top of Libelle's hand, which was laying on the table top. Something electric pulsed through Libelle as the warmth of Hermione's hand touched the coolness of her own, Libelle hoped Hermione hadn't felt the physical jolt that had coursed through her. "I think you've been incredibly courageous and that you should be proud of where you've come from. I know you've got a long heritage in Slytherin, but if you had the sorting hat right now I'm pretty sure it'd put you in Gryffindor…"
"Perhaps." Libelle muttered, Hermione's hand was still resting on top of her own, causing some sort of peculiar warm ripple through her hand and up her arm. She didn't want Hermione to take her hand away, not now a pleasant tingling sensation that was replacing the warmth on the back of her hand, or the peculiar sensation was replacing the warmth on the back of her hand, or the peculiar sensation that was rising into her chest and making her feel breathless and giddy. Hermione smiled at Libelle, then seemingly noticed that her hand was still on top of Libelle's she withdrew it, her cheeks turning red.
"I listened to your advice." She said quietly, looking down at her hands.
"What advice?" Libelle asked bemused, she couldn't help the nervous rasp in her voice as she tried to control the pounding of her heart and the tightening of her chest.
"To follow what I really want to do with my life rather than settle for what I'm doing just now." Hermione replied, oddly Libelle couldn't quite recall saying that, but she must have done if Hermione was accrediting it to her. "I've… uh…" She took a drink from her cocktail. "I've applied to study magical law."
"You have?" Libelle exclaimed in surprise. "Oh that's fantastic Hermione, you're bound to get in! Where abouts have you applied to?"
"Just to the Ministry scheme, I've had to get Professor McGonagall to write a letter for me to explain why I don't have my NEWTs, hopefully that'll be enough, if it's not then I'll maybe do what you've done – a year at college and do my NEWTs."
"I'm applying to the Ministry training scheme too! For healing of course, but that's really cool!" Libelle wriggled in her seat, what if the two of them ended up in the training scheme at the same time?
"Really?" Hermione paused; there were a few more people who had entered the pub, perhaps after finishing work, and the noise level had increased as a result. Hermione shifted her chair around the circular table until she was sitting right next to Libelle, to avoid having to shout to be heard and strain to hear. "I didn't think you would pick the Ministry one in case there were people on it that you knew."
"I thought about it for a little while, cause I wasn't convinced; but then I realised that hopefully come the start of the course I'll have been on the hormone therapy for quite a while, I might have even had the surgery that I want – so I should be beginning to look more how I feel." Libelle said, she was watching Hermione's profile as she was sat alongside her. "And if that's the case then I'll be better able to deny any accusations or questions that come my way." Libelle stated this matter of factly, like she had already spent a long time considering it.
"That's great!" Hermione acknowledged. "So we're both aiming for the Ministry training scheme, well good luck to us!"
"I think this calls for a toast, don't you?" Libelle said, raising her cocktail glass into the air, Hermione followed suit. "To the future."
"The future." Hermione repeated, Libelle had had to consciously think so she hadn't said 'our future', that would have been a slip of the tongue which would have given the game away. Hermione took a quick drink, then set her glass down before reaching her arm out to hug Libelle. "Thank you." Hermione whispered, her arm draped around Libelle's shoulders. Although taken by surprise, Libelle didn't recoil, she felt the softness of Hermione's cheek as it pressed against her own, and she felt her own heart rate increase. She closed her eyes momentarily; this might be the closest she ever got to Hermione. Hermione began to draw back and Libelle's eyes snapped open quickly, but Hermione didn't move her hand from Libelle's shoulder – and if a physical charge could have been measured from the brush of skin that was their cheeks, Libelle was sure her hair would have gone static. Hermione's face was less than a foot away from Libelle's – the pinkness of her lips obvious and the freckles on her nose almost countable; there was a fierce look in her eyes, a hardness that came from determination. Very suddenly Hermione leant forwards and kissed Libelle. It only lasted for a second, but in that second Libelle thought her heart might be about to leap out of her chest. Hermione's lips were soft against Libelle's, and the hand Hermione had placed on Libelle's shoulder gripped tightly. Then it was over, their lips had broken apart and Hermione had, drawn back, her grip on Libelle's shoulders relinquishing.
The next few seconds seemed to stretch on for an eternity, with Hermione looking sheepish – maybe even a little scared – and Libelle floundering, not knowing what to do or say next. Everything around them had slowed down and faded, the noise that the rest of the people in the pub had been making was now non-existent to the two of them. When Libelle abandoned the shock of what had just happened by putting her hands on Hermione's cheeks – her large hands could've entirely covered Hermione's face – but she cupped them tenderly and pulled Hermione towards her. Hermione's lips were warm as they kissed for a second time; Hermione's hand snaked over Libelle's shoulder and round behind her neck. Libelle shuddered as Hermione's tongue brushed across her lips, could she really not be dreaming? Was it possible that this was all a concoction of her mind? Maybe the day hadn't even begun yet – how else would she have come up with such a perfect day: her exam going well, Hermione arriving early, and now Hermione kissing her. It felt real enough – everything about Hermione felt real, the warmth of her skin, the slightly musky scent of her, the tenderness of her touch as her hand stroked the back of Libelle's neck, and the intensity of her mouth, her lips and tongue. That was real, it was so real.
When Libelle pulled back she was breathless, both from the shock of the situation and from the length of time that they had been kissing. Hermione's cheeks were bright pink now and her hair a little ruffled from where Libelle's hand had ended up resting. From across the other side of the pub someone wolf whistled and Libelle could feel her own cheeks burning.
"Well…" Libelle began, her voice cracking slightly. "That was unexpected." She felt as though she was sitting in a very bright spotlight and everyone in the pub was staring at them. Even though this wasn't the case she still shifted in her chair, turning to face Hermione more.
"I'm sorry," Hermione burbled, she seemed a little more agitated now. "I didn't want to make you feel uncomfortable or anything."
"I said it was unexpected, not unpleasant." Libelle responded calmly. "In fact, it was very pleasant." Hermione went scarlet at this comment, and Libelle felt a flutter inside her chest at this reaction. The two of them looked at each other for a few moments, each one waiting for the other to do something, eventually Hermione broke the silence:
"I don't know what to do now.:" She admitted quietly.
"Neither do I really." Libelle lied, although her mind was reeling – all the confusion that she had been feeling about her sexuality was still present, but somehow it felt like it was no longer relevant. What was relevant was that she had just kissed Hermione, and she really liked her. "I didn't realise that… that you liked girls." Libelle muttered lowly.
"Things change over the course of your life. I think I need to open my eyes and accept that." Hermione said shrugging. "I knot you don't, well – don't like girls."
"Didn't." Libelle corrected.
"What?"
"I didn't like girls, or really have any interest in them apart from wanting to be one." Libelle stated, "And I was so repressed, just all of me – my gender, my sexuality, my personality – and so bothered about what my father would think, about our family reputation… I can't be bothered with it anymore, it's not like our family name can really be any more disgraced than it is right now, and I'm not going to make my father love me any more by trying to fit into one of the boxes he wants me to. I just want to go with what is right by me, and right now? I really like you." If it was at all possible for Hermione to go any redder than she already was, it happened, as though compelled by what Libelle had just said Hermione leant in to kiss her again. It was like the application of an anaesthetic to a pain that had been borne for so long; their lips fit perfectly together and in that moment neither of them could have cared if the entire pub was watching.
"So what happens now?" Hermione asked once they had broken apart. "I didn't really expect this, I don't know what you want to do, but I really like you too." Libelle's heart did a peculiar flipping sensation in her chest as Hermione said this.
"You have to know," Libelle began sounding rather somberly. "That I'm not… I've still…" She struggled to find the words, but Hermione waited patiently. "I'm on the journey to being right, mentally and physically – if you know what I mean… but I'm not entirely there yet, if you get what I'm trying to say…" Almost involuntarily Libelle had glanced down when she said this, and Hermione had understood with a flash what she was referring to.
"Let's take our time in getting to know each other, this is a new thing for both of us!" Hermione said, putting her hand on Libelle's knee for reassurance. "I don't and won't ever make you do anything that you are uncomfortable with, I want you to be happy – and expect the same from you. If that means that I back off right now until you feel comfortable then I will."
"I definitely don't want you to back off!" Libelle exclaimed, "I just want to be upfront so you know that I'm not offering sex or anything like that."
"I understand that Libelle," Hermione responded, for a moment it looked like Libelle was about to cry with relief. "Let's just get to know each other properly – it's not like we were best friends before, I think that would be the best idea for both of us."
"Yeah, that sounds really good." Libelle said, "Thank you for understanding."
"You don't need to thank me, let's just not rush and waste this." Hermione grinned, this was the most alive that she had felt in a long time. Libelle's silver eyes were swimming with excitement, it seemed that what Ceri had predicted was true.
"I want to know everything about you – I want to correct all my former misconceptions." Libelle said greedily. "I need to do that, to prove myself wrong." It was like something within Libelle had opened up, a desire that she could no longer hide inside herself and didn't want to; and Hermione could see that – and wanted that to continue. She wanted this to be the start of something good, something to bring a new start for them both after the difficult times of the past few years.
"We've got time." Hermione answered calmly. "Plenty of time." Libelle nodded, smiling. "Let's start with a fresh drink." She attracted the attention of the barman, signalling for him to bring them drinks; then turned her attention back to Libelle and clasped her hand around Libelle's, ready for the start of this new relationship and journey.
A/N: So this is the last chapter and the end of this story (for the time being). If you've read it, I thank you - and I'd love to know what you think/whether you would be interested in reading more.