Let's Remember It All
CHAPTER ONE – Rainy Days
It was raining. She stared out across the grounds, or at lease what she knew were the grounds, as all she could see was the driving sleet that hammered violently against anything that stood in its way and slid down the window panes. The common room behind her was a hive of activity; the fire was blazing, people were laughing and talking and there were many games of unidentified origin going on, all of which involved everyone participating making a lot of noise.
But, inevitably, all Hermione could think about was him. She hated herself for it, but there it was. She was thinking about him.
Again.
"Hermione! Earth to Hermione! Are you receiving?"
Oh look. There is a hand waving in front of my face. Perhaps they are trying to get my attention… Hermione started, her eyes demisting as she focused on her immediate surroundings. "Ron! You startled me!" She struggled to regain her composure as the details of her most recent daydream slipped away. "Did you want something?"
"Well, I did, about ten minutes ago, when I first said your name." He replied testily. "It's nothing really, I just wondered if you wanted a game of chess or something…" He drifted off, noticing the weary look on Hermione's face. "Fine. If you don't want to, you should've just said so when I tried to get your attention the first time." He stalked away and slumped back down in his armchair opposite Harry, his face sullen and his cheeks a brilliant shade of crimson.
Hermione sighed. She knew it annoyed her friends when did this. Though she herself wasn't entirely sure what 'this' was. At first it was only when she was extremely sleepy, and the lines of reality and the impossible began to blur, but recently she found herself existing more in her fantasy world than she did in real life. Her mind just took her there, to the place where she and him were… possible.
The only light in the dingy room came from a jar, which was precariously balanced on a wooden stool. The jar seemed to contain a ball of flames that moved and threw shadows high up on the walls.
The jar was in the centre of a group of people, all sat in a circle, all staring at the convulsing fire. One person, a boy with blond hair, sat underneath the single window – a tiny, barred and grimy opening to the world.
"It needs to be done. Someone's got to do it." A dark-skinned boy said, finally breaking the silence.
Someone sighed.
A minute or two passed without anyone speaking.
"I'll do it." The boy by the window had spoken. He stood up, knocking back his chair in the process, walked to the door and opened it. Light spilled into the room, throwing the features of the assembled Slytherins into sharp relief. He turned round and said again, "I'll do it," before spinning on his heel, walking away and letting the door close behind him. Once again the room was in darkness.
O O O
He was fuming. Why had he said that? He knew the answer to that question, but accepting that answer as the truth would mean accepting a future he had successfully managed to avoid and ignore for the past three years. When the orders had come, everyone had fallen silent, mulling over what was to be their sole purpose and meaning for existence for as long as it took them to complete. And slowly, every head in the room had gradually turned to look at him.
And that was when he knew.
There was no escape.
"You disappeared pretty quickly after Charms yesterday." Ron commented, quietly. "In a hurry, were we?" He looked up at her and she had a burning urge to hex him into next week.
"Yes, Ron, I was actually. I had forgotten to return a library book, and I had to get there before it closed." This was a downright lie, and she knew Ron probably knew that, but when he raised no objection, she returned to eating her cereal.
"Oh." He said after some time. "Are you going to grace us with your presence at Saturday's match? Or have you got another book you need to return?" His tone was completely innocent, though she could feel rather than hear the maliciousness hidden between the words.
"Maybe I will, I don't know yet. To be honest, spending an hour-and-a-half in the pouring rain, freezing my socks off all to watch morons zoom around on bits of twig doesn't really appeal to me that much." She didn't look up, though she knew there were at least half the table's eyes on her. "Well, I'm off. Just popping into the library. To return a book."
She swung her legs out into the aisle without looking behind her to see how much devastation she had caused. I didn't mean to say that. Harry, you know I didn't mean that. Ron, please don't be mad. I didn't mean to say that. It took all Hermione's strength to walk away and not let the tears roll down her cheeks – though she wasn't quite sure why she wanted to cry – and run back to her friends and apologise over and over again for being such a cruel, heartless bitch.
"Touché, Granger." Hermione reached the Entrance Hall without breaking down, but bumping into the blonde figure who had just spoken, now, of all situations, made her want to crawl into a ball and die even more. "I don't agree with the comment about Quidditch, but well done for having the guts to say your mind for once in your life." He walked away, and Hermione watched him go with a dazed look on her face.
Later, back in the common room, Hermione caught up with Ginny. She looked at Hermione with a mixture of sadness, disappointment and anger. Don't look at me like that. I didn't mean any of, you know that.
"Hi, Hermione." Ginny's voice was distant.
"Ginny, where are the boys?" She cut straight to the point, and Ginny looked up at her, humour written all over her face.
"Oh, they're 'boys' now, are they? I thought you were still referring to them as 'morons who zoomed around on bits of twig'." There was a hint of a smile tugging at the corner of her mouth. "I think they had a detention with Snape, but you never know, they might have gone to the library,to return a book." She turned to go, leaving Hermione feeling stupid and guilty.
"Thanks, Ginny. Sorry I said what I said earlier. I just don't like Quidditch is all." She muttered forlornly.
The red-head stopped in her tracks, and she cocked her head slightly. "That much is obvious." And she walked on.