A/N: Written for Round 2 of the QLFC. This round was all about interpretation of song lyrics. Below are the lyrics I was required to use and the three optional prompts I chose to include.
Lyrics: "But once you knew a girl and you named her Lover / And danced with her in kitchens through the greenest summer / But Autumn came, she disappeared / You can't remember where she said she was going to." – Perfect Sonnet, by Bright Eyes
Prompts: Freedom; shoes; Dialogue – 'please tell me you're not serious. Please'
The Seasons of Romance
"If summer is love, and winter is the death, then autumn is the time when the love wanes and the decay sets in -" Hermione said thoughtfully, swirling a glass of Firewhiskey. " - In which case, my relationship is most definitely in it's autumn, and well on it's way to winter."
"What the hell are you telling me that for, Granger?" Blaise Zabini asked from the doorway, completely thrown. He had just stopped by her office at the end of the day, to drop by his share of the paperwork concerning today's catch.
"We're partners, Zabini." Hermione said lightly, "We share. Sit down, I'll pour you a drink."
Blaise stepped further into Hermione's office, dropping the file onto her desk, before slowly taking a seat, wondering where the hell this conversation was going.
"We're work partners: we share the task of catching magical creatures and filling out paperwork." He pointed out, "We've never shared relationship woes."
Hermione laughed, "There's a first time for everything," she retorted, pouring him a glass of Firewhiskey and handing it over before she leaned back in her chair, kicked of her shoes, and rested her legs up on her desk.
"All right," Blaise conceded, raising an eyebrow at Hermione's out of character, slight lack of professionalism. "What's Weasley done this time?"
Hermione sighed, "I don't really know," she admitted, "things just…haven't been going well for a while now."
After the final battle of Hogwarts, Ron and Hermione had ventured on an uncertain journey into a relationship, and for four years they had been happy. It was hard not to be happy, basking in the freedom that had come with the end of the war - but now Hermione was starting to feel trapped; she and Ron had fallen into a rut of a routine, and Hermione's idea of progressing went down a completely different track to Ron's ideas. So of course, Ron and Hermione ended up doing what they do best.
"You guys have been arguing again?" Blaise asked. Despite refraining from indulging in idol gossip, and discussing personal lives with his partner, anything concerning the Golden Trio often made it's way into the conversations of others and Blaise had overheard a few things during his time at the Ministry.
Hermione nodded slowly, "Yup." She confessed, "It seems that's all we ever do now. It's been getting worse since I came back from Australia."
About a year ago, the Ministry had sent Hermione over to the Australian Ministry to help set up a Magical Creature's department, and to train new recruits into the Hunting division. After spending six months there, she was offered a permanent position – one that she refused after her return to England when it became apparent that Ron would not even consider moving in with her all the way down in London, let alone at the other side of the world. It would have been an amazing opportunity for Hermione, and after spending six months in the country she had fallen in love with it's varied sceneries and wide-open spaces. She had spent time out in the red vastness of the outback, up in the Northern Territory, and had enjoyed the lush scenery of wine country in New South Wales, not to mention the tropical coastal regions of Queensland.
She never truly realised how free she had felt out there until she returned to the hustle and bustle of London with its overbearing skyscrapers, and discovered how claustrophobic it all was – even going up to Otter St Catchpole wasn't open enough for her. She missed the warmth of the Australian sun and the vast sky, which seemed to go on forever – she had never known the sky could look so big, and she missed the sense of freedom that came with it.
"Seems that's the real root of all your problems." Blaise said wisely, "The way you talked about it when you got back – any idiot could tell that you didn't want to leave there. Have you spoke to Weasley about it? Maybe he'll come around to the idea, now he's had time to think about it."
Hermione snorted, "Ron is more stubborn than me. He'll never leave. And you know, I thought I was ok with that – I mean, I think I am. It's not like I don't have opportunities here – I'm doing lots of things here in London that I wouldn't have been able to do in Australia. But in the end, I stayed for Ron. And when I stayed, Ron and I were happy – it was all smiles and laughs, and surprisingly full of romance. But now, it's like, the night's are getting longer and the days are getting colder – the romance is sparse, we don't laugh as long nor as loud, and happiness is more forced than it used to be."
"Okay, Granger, stop with the summer-to-winter metaphors. Seriously woman, you read too many novels" Blaise joked earning himself a glare, "Does Weasley know you're here?" he then asked.
Hermione shrugged, "I didn't tell him I would be working late," she admitted, "but I'm sure he'll figure it out, I don't think we have any particular plans-" Hermione frowned, "What day is it?" she asked suddenly.
"Tuesday." Blaise answered with an eye-roll.
"Crap." Hermione sighed, slumping further into her seat, "Weasley family dinner. Just what I need – and I'm already an hour late." She added, looking at her clock, but making no move to leave.
Blaise chuckled, "And yet, you're still sat at your desk. Look at the bright side – another couple of glasses and you'll be the life and soul of the party." He joked.
"I'm starting to regret sharing my secret stash with you." Hermione muttered, but topped up his glass all the same.
"I can't believe Hermione Granger has a secret stash." Blaise commented in amusement.
"It was a gift, from someone in the law department." Hermione shrugged, "I forgot about it."
The pair drank in relative silence for the next half hour, speaking only to comment on what needed to be done on the morrow, and the backlog of paperwork that needed to be addressed.
"All right," Hermione sighed eventually, swinging her legs back down, standing from her chair and smoothing down her skirt, "I suppose I should at least show my face, even though dinner will be nearly over."
Blaise stood with her, draining the last of his drink as Hermione gathered her things, straightened her desk, and made her way to the door.
"Erm, Granger?" Blaise called her back with a grin, "Aren't you forgetting something?"
Hermione turned with a frown, "What?" She asked.
"Your shoes." He pointed out with amusement, looking at Hermione's bare feet.
###
Ron sat in his parent's living room, cradling a butterbeer and staring into the fire.
"Everything alright, mate?" Harry asked, taking a seat in the armchair facing Ron, "You look lost in your own world."
"Fine," Ron said, with a half-hearted smile that didn't fool Harry one bit. "Where's Ginny?"
Harry and Ginny had got back together at the end of the war, but unlike Ron and Hermione, they we're ridiculously happy, already living together and even engaged to be married in one month's time.
"In the kitchen with your mother and Fleur," Harry said, "talking about the wedding. Where's Hermione?"
Ron shrugged, "Haven't got a clue, mate." Ron admitted, "I thought she was coming, but I don't know if she will or not."
"What happened?" Harry sighed.
"That is a good question, Harry." Ron said, "Good question: 'What happened'? Where did it start going wrong?" he asked.
Harry looked at his best friend. Was that a rhetorical question? Or was Ron genuinely asking Harry to tell him? Luckily for Harry, Ron continued to talk.
"Things have been going downhill for a year, and I don't get it. I mean nothing's changed," Ron vented, "but we're just arguing more and more – worse than we were at school." He looked imploringly at Harry to tell him what to do.
Harry took a deep breath and then blew it out slowly, choosing his words carefully, "Maybe the fact that nothing has changed is part of the problem." Harry said slowly.
"I don't know," Ron said, thankfully not taking offence at the words, "See, that's the thing – we've talked about change; about moving forward, moving in together, about where we're going. But we end up arguing about bloody change." Ron said in exasperation. "I blame Australia," he said suddenly, "She's been different ever since she got back."
"Have her parent's got something to do with it?" Harry asked carefully. Hermione had never mentioned anything to him after her return, but perhaps she may have told Ron something, if there was anything to tell.
"Her parents?" Ron asked confused, "Where the bloody hell did that come from?"
Harry rolled his eyes at his best friend's idiocy, "Please tell me you're not serious. Please," muttered Harry, before taking a breath and explaining the obvious, "Hermione sent her parents to Australia, to hide, with new identities before we went hunting Horcruxes," he reminded Ron.
Comprehension dawned on Ron's features, "Right, I should have remembered that. But if she had found them, she would have told us right?" He asked.
Harry shrugged, "I thought so," he admitted, "But she never mentioned anything to me; when I asked she just brushed it off. So if it's not her parents, what else would Australia have to do with it?" Harry asked.
"She got offered a permanent job over there." Ron admitted, for the first time, causing Harry's eyes to widen.
"Blimey, she kept that quiet. She didn't take it, obviously." Harry said, probing for the details.
Ron shook his head, "No, but she was thinking about it. She asked what I thought about it; I said I could never do it – move abroad. But each to their own," he shrugged. "In the end she stayed, but since then I feel like I've been losing her. It's like she's been disappearing, slowly – like tonight: I've got no idea where she is, I can't remember if she said what time she'd get here, of if she would be coming at all – I don't know if she said she was going somewhere, or if she was working."
Harry listened in silence, not knowing what to say to his best friend: what do you say to someone who seems to be a relationship that's nearing its end?
"You need to talk to her," Harry said, "Properly talk, without getting angry and shouting."
They were prevented from furthering the discussion as Molly put her head around the corner and called them through to the kitchen for dinner.
"Is Hermione still not here?" Molly asked as everyone took his or her seat.
Ron shook his head, "I think she got held up at work," he said nonchalantly, not giving a hint as to what he and Harry had been discussing, "She's been busy today – loads of paperwork." He explained, despite not knowing if it was the truth. "Start without her, she won't mind."
Dinner progressed in a typical fashion – the girls were talking of last minute preparations for the upcoming wedding, while the men discussed work and Quidditch. The meal lasted a leisurely hour, but after three full courses Hermione was still a no-show. It wasn't until the family gathered in the sitting room with teas and coffees that they heard the telltale sound of the gate swinging, and a few moments later Hermione entered the room.
"I'm so sorry, Molly." Hermione smiled apologetically, "A mountain of paperwork, I lost track of time."
"Not to worry, dear," Molly said sympathetically, jumping up to get Hermione a mug, "Sit down, I'll rustle up some leftovers-"
"Oh no, really-" Hermione began to protest, but was silenced as Molly steered her to a vacant seat.
"- Nonsense, I insist." She commanded, before dashing into the kitchen - returning five minutes later with a fully loaded plate and cutlery.
Hermione ate in silence as the others spoke around her, joining in occasionally when the conversation required her input. To all but the expert eye, it appeared as if nothing was wrong – only Harry picked up on the subtle tension between his two best friends.
When the time came to depart, Hermione and Ron were one of the first to leave, walking the short distance from the Burrow to the edge of the village where Ron's house was.
"So, where did you go this evening?" Ron asked quietly, as they walked in the brisk autumn night, "Before you came to dinner?"
"I didn't go anywhere," Hermione said honestly, "I was in my office, going over paperwork." It wasn't a complete lie.
Ron gave a small humourless laugh, "Then why did your breath smell of Firewhiskey, when you arrived?" He challenged.
Hermione sighed, "It was a long day, Blaise and I had a glass while we finished off the last of our report."
"You and Blaise?" Ron asked, jealously sweeping through him in an instant.
Hermione rolled her eyes and pulled her hand from his as the made it to his garden gate.
"Please tell me we are not going to have this conversation." Hermione said patiently, turning to face him, "I can tell from your tone what you're going to imply, please don't insult me by saying it out loud." She said tiredly, slipping her feet from her shoes – heels had not been a good idea today; her feet were aching like crazy.
"Sorry," Ron mumbled looking down at his feet. He noticed Hermione's action and smiled, before looking up again.
"Feet hurting?" he asked, and Hermione nodded, "Want to come inside?" he asked.
Hermione chewed her lip; "I think I want to stay at my place tonight. I just need the space, the freedom." She explained.
Ron closed his eyes and took a deep breath; "Again, with the freedom," he muttered, before looking Hermione in the eye,
"Seriously, Hermione? How much more freedom and space can I give you? We don't live together, despite how long we've been together. It seems we're hardly together anymore!" Ron said, all his worries coming to the surface, "You're disappearing Hermione, I feel like I'm losing you, and I have no idea why!"
"Ron-" Hermione said tiredly,
"No, Hermione." Ron interrupted, "We need to talk about this."
"Yes," Hermione agreed, "We need to talk. But right now you are gearing up for an argument, and I don't have the energy for that, not tonight. It's been a long day, I'm tired and my feet hurt. I just want to go home, take a bath and go to sleep." She explained, "So that's what I'm going to do."
Hermione turned on the spot, and disapparated with a resounding crack that echoed through the empty night. And just like that, she was gone, leaving Ron with nothing but a pair of shoes and a taste of the trials that were yet to come.
A/N: I'd love to hear your thoughts :)