Days Like These - Part Two
The smells wafted upstairs, belying the circumstance. Making it almost seem like a normal day, when in fact there wasn't anything normal about it. It was a normal event, some people had been to more than they could count. Hermione herself over the last week had been to numerous, but this was different. It was time to say goodbye, to a friend, to a loved one; to someone who shouldn't be gone. Her black dress robes had been worn many times over the last week. Each time had been harder than the last, it wasn't something that got easier. The knife struck a little deeper, the hole a little bigger. Till the pain, the emptiness was all consuming. It took over.
There had been times when she was with Harry, and Ron over the past few months that had felt like the worst time in her life. When it all felt too much, that the burden was too great. But they had made it through, they did what had to be done. The same was ringing true right now. It was a horrible time, but there were things that had to be done.
Hermione had to put those robes on, had to make herself presentable, had to walk down the stairs. It all had to be done, there were no choices to be made here. While there was freedom, and there was living, real living happening all around them. This was the thing she had to do. Her parents were back, that had been both harder and simpler than it should have been. It had been awkward, explaining how and why she had tampered with their minds. Something a good daughter would never do. The rift that had grown during her time at Hogwarts, had only tripled in size from her act; and the only thing that could heal it was time, and Hermione being on her absolute best behaviour.
She moved on autopilot, fingers doing up the many buttons on the robes. Hermione slipped her shoes over her stockinged feet. It was easy to do, it was the same routine as the one she had done the day before. There were just subtle differences. She sat in the chair in front of the mirror, and brushed her hair. Smoothing it back into a knot at the back of her head. Her eyes were the difference. While sadness was to be expected with the time, some of it had to remain hidden.
Her eyes were bloodshot, and puffy. She didn't charm it away completely. That would have been suspicious, with everyone around her showing the strain. Hermione just didn't want to have to explain to anyone, where they to ask; why she looked like she'd spent the night crying. It would create too many questions, and at this point in time she wasn't prepared to answer them. There would come a time for them to be asked, and she would answer them, if she knew the answers. Things had changed, definitely not in the way she hoped. Today was the huge example. It was not supposed to happen, not for a very long time at least.
The sound of footsteps heading up the stairs pulled her from her reverie. She performed the necessary concealing charms easily, they had become second nature. Putting it off couldn't be done any longer, the day had started, and it was time to greet it head on.
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She should have known that this would happen. He was a boy after all, and a rather temperamental one at that. He was a do now, and then think about it later kind of person. But when he did think about it later, he tended to gloss over his faults, so it still mostly ended up being someone else's fault. Come tomorrow morning, he wouldn't apologise for how he had treated her, or the things he had said to her. There may be twinges of remorse, he would tread carefully around her; but there would be no words of apology. And she expected nothing more.
That wasn't to say she wouldn't appreciate an apology. There had been moments over the past few years that had been embarrassing. Growing a tail in her second year stood out clearly, and just a few weeks ago when Malfoy had charmed her teeth. This was different though, those were magical, it felt different. They had been accidents. Maybe not on Malfoy's part, but she hadn't been the intended. In this case though, she was. The way he had spoken to her, in front of so many people. Whether it had been out of anger, or jealousy, it had still cut through to the bone.
This was supposed to have been such a wonderful night. It was her first dance, and a popular boy had asked her. It was a dream come to life. She was supposed to be happy. Instead she was sitting on the stairs all by herself, crying because her best friend was a prat. Try as she might though, she couldn't find the urge to move. She didn't want to walk past everyone who had no doubt seen her crying on the steps. The ball seemed to be quieting down, people heading in different directions to their individual dormitories. Hermione knew she would have to move soon, curfew could not be far away.
With her head resting on her knees, she heard someone sit down behind her. Willing them to move away, and leave her be.
"I hope you aren't crying over my idiot brother," they said. "Please, tell me it's because your feet hurt?"
"Can it be both?" She said sadly.
"Possibly," he down moved down onto the step beside her. "He doesn't deserve them though. It was vintage Ron, complete and utter drivel."
"So you heard?"
"I doubt anybody in the hall didn't hear it."
Hermione groaned, "great."
"Don't worry," Fred said with a smile in his voice. "I'm sure there are more than a few stories that will be doing the rounds of the school tomorrow. The dramas of a couple of fourth years will hardly raise an eyebrow."
"You think so?"
"Of course. I for one, am very interested in how Roger Davies got grass stains in the middle of winter, on the back of his robes."
"So I'll be the boring news?"
"I would think so."
She breathed deeply as she sat up properly. "Did you have a good time tonight with Angelina?"
"We had fun," he said dismissively. "It was good to come with a friend."
"Why aren't you with her now? Is she in the bathroom?"
"Nah, she went off with the girls earlier."
"Oh," she looked over at him. "I thought you too were, close."
"Not that close Granger."
"Right. Sorry."
"It's fine, we both missed out on our first choice tonight," he said glumly. "Easier to come with a mate than all alone."
"I don't think I could have come by myself."
"Well you had Viktor didn't you? And I daresay he wasn't the only hopeful one."
She shrugged at that, she knew she wasn't the ideal to many boys. Neville only asked her probably because he was too shy to ask anyone else. And Ron's invitation? That was purely by a boy who didn't want to embarrass himself by coming alone. Viktor she didn't really understand, maybe it was because she didn't treat him like all the others did. Fawning over the Quidditch star. She treated him as Viktor, not as Viktor Krum, Bulgaria's star Seeker.
Fred cleared his throat beside her. "Well, I have been very rude Granger."
"How so?"
He stood and moved to the now deserted landing below them, and rather pompously held out a hand. "May I have the pleasure of a dance Miss Granger?"
"Now?" She said startled, "it's very late."
"Never too late for a dance," he grinned, waving his hand in front of her. "Come on Granger, I turn into a pumpkin soon, and it's not going to be pretty. A dance beforehand?"
She smiled in spite of herself, and took his hand. Hermione stepped down to him, leaving her shoes behind. They moved together fluidly to the soft music coming from the hall. "You are quite a good dancer Fred."
"Don't sound so surprised, McGonagall gave me private lessons."
"Well that explains it then," she laughed.
"She's a very accomplished witch."
"Ah, was she your first choice?" She smiled up at him.
"Yes," a pained expression on his face. "Sadly, it would appear that I'm too young for her. She has broken my heart."
"Poor Fred."
"Poor me indeed," he moaned dramatically. "So I am now seeking comfort in the arms of younger women. Anything to sooth my wounded pride."
Hermione gasped, "Are you using me?!"
"Slightly, but I am hoping that my good looks, and debonair charm with blind you. Is it working?"
"Naturally, I'm due to swoon in your arms at any moment."
"At which point I would take you to my room, and have my wicked way with you."
"Of course."
"A brilliant plan."
"There is however fault in it."
"How so? My devilish plan is faultless."
"What if, perchance, I myself, was also using you?"
"You saucy wench! Now why would you treat a fine, upstanding gentlemen such as I, in such a cruel and callous way?"
"Well maybe I was feeling sad and alone, and I needed someone to come and cheer me up. You are purely a means for me to regain some lost happiness."
"Well then Miss Granger, I hereby give you permission to use me anytime you like."
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