A/N: Not really my characters or plot, sadly enough.
Chapter 8: Le Cavalier Sans Tête
It really isn't fair that we can't choose how other people regard us.
I suspect most people see me as sort of asexual – well, I have at least interpreted their judgements of me that way. Hermione Riddle: An intellectual aroused solely by books. Never men or - better put - boys.. Silly little boys with one hand down their trousers and the other on their leaning heads; holding in the brain mass that is desperately leaking out of their ears.
Seriously, what's to be aroused by?
The description probably holds some truth to it though. I have never regarded myself as being a particulary passionate person (if not an unhealthy obsession to learning counts) and I have barely held any crushes or shared any fleeting romances. And sex? Basically unheard of. People inside of other people struck me as sort of weird. Not gross or unappealing.. just weird. A statement I regretfully made two seconds ago and lead to the scenario where my friends are now gaping at me, like dumb goldfishes, calling me out for being the weirdo. We – as in the "crew" – are having lunch in the cafeteria. Thankfully and to my chagrin, Tom is not here. I woke up from a terrible night's sleep feeling particulary unfaltering on my path to war. So seeing him not seated in his regular spot on the other side of the cafteria, disappoints me just the tiniest bit.
Padma, who is seated next to me, pats my back and shakes her head with fake anguish at the same time.
"You always struck me as suited for the part of the nutty professor you know.. untamed hair and stacks of books and paper everywhere in an uncoordinated mess.. Growing old alone with nothing but cats for company.. I hear they eat you when you die. But you'd probably think of that as practical. Like it being enviromental-friendly and all.."
"That's horrible Padma!" I say, redcheeked and flabbergasted. "I do not want to die alone and be eaten by cats!" The others just laugh.
Ginny, seated in front of me, shrugs. "Well. Like it or not, that's where your heading."
I gave my most heart-chilling glare.
She held up her hands in surrender.
Chairs scrape.
"Okay, I think that means that we are leaving. Are you coming Neville?" Harry says. The boys have been awfully quiet all day, looking knowingly at other whenever their gazes met, like they were spinning an ill-willed secret, only to stop at times to cast chasteful glances towards their so-called love intrests. They leave in a hurry, almost to the point of it being awkward.
Ginny's eyes follow the backs of Harry and Neville before she picks up the thread again, turning her eyes towards me.
"Look, all I'm saying is that you're weird for not wanting a boyfriend.. Or you know - a girlfriend. If you're into that, then that's cool." Ginny makes it sound like a question, like it was my cue to suddenly jump out of a carefully sealed closet.
Once again, I glare. Didn't any of my friends know me?
"I do want a boyfriend Ginny. But I want a good one. Not one that will just do.. You know - someone to pass the time with until the next thing comes along."
"So you're waiting for Mister Perfect?" she says with obvious distaste, like doubting my sanity.
"Noooo.." I answer, rolling my eyes before looking at Padma and Luna for support. Padma just watches me much the same way that Ginny does while Luna.. well I don't think Luna even notices that we are there. At the moment, she is picking her food while staring blankly into the air, lost in her own thoughts. How I envy her abilty to just block out the entire world.
"..I just want someone who wants me for me.. as cliché as it sounds. One I at least I have one thing in common with."
Padma giggles while Ginny sighs.
"One thing? Well. Then you're screwed. The only one I can think of having something in common with you is Tom and that's because he's your brother."
I pale at that. I look down on my plate, gaining as much strength as possible as to not let my distress show. Exhaling discretely, I look up again.
"Well, I guess I'm a lost cause then. Mittens, Charlie and Garfield, here I come!"
"If you were to just lower you're expectations somewhat, you'll be fine."
And we laugh. I swear laughter can cure diseases.
It really isn't fair how other people choose to regard us.
Tom regards me as more than his sister. I simply regard Tom as my brother.
I want a boyfriend, but I don't want my brother as my boyfriend.
And how can it be, that in a world where 50 % are men, Ginny and Padma think there is no one being compatibale with me but Tom. Oh, it was all in good fun, but given the circumstances, it hurt. For I am nothing like Tom. I don't wish to be reminded of Tom.
Tom is the sick one, not me. Tom is the one with serious mental issues, not me.
I am nothing like Tom.
To my chagrin (and pleasure now.. I presume) I am later caught up by the boy himself and Abraxas. They were standing aloof in the corridor when Abraxas saw me and shouted for me to come over.
Brace yourself, Hermione! Tom's sick play will not hit the theater as long as you remain Hermione Jean Riddle.
Abraxas gives me a hug, I do not fail to catch the tug of Tom's upper lip, even if it is a fast one, and after which he just nods curtly in greeting. I scrutinize him briefly before returning the cold recognition.
"We were just talking about you," Abraxas declares warmly.
"Only nice things I presume." I look solely at Abraxas but feel Tom's hard eyes upon me none the less. I kind of want to watch Tom in return though; I want to see every unwelcomed expression he makes so I can extinguish them one by one from the face of the earth. When casting a quick look in his direction, he just appears bored. It is the face of my brother Tom - not that creature I saw last night.
"So what were you talking about?"
Abraxas strokes the side of his face, flashing the muscles in his well-trained arm while doing so. I fleetingly wonder if it is a conscious choice?
"I had this idea that the three of us should go for a movie or something, you know, do something together. Like, I might not be as smart as you two, but I can hold a thought. tI doesn't have to be a movie though, it can be anything really."
The three of us? What was he playing at? I'm sure that's synonymous with "hell".
"I don't know Abraxas, I wouldn't want to be the third wheel on your date," I say, trying my best to sound politely disbelieving and not terrified.
I smile then as Tom glares. Abraxas laughs, good-humoured as he is.
"Sure it wouldn't be the other way around?" He then says and I instantly see that he regrets it. Odd. In which way does he regret it? It makes sense if he referred to himself and me.. but me and Tom? Does he know? I dare not ponder further.
"Leave the idea Abraxas, I'm sure Hermione has better things to do," Tom interjects.
Abraxas looks slightly flushed as he meets Tom's eyes, but quickly picks himself up, he is a sportsman after all.
"Well, I just thought that Hermione would be a great tribute to our outings, with her warm personality, pretty smiles and all.." With that he smiles at me and I actually return, even though the statement makes me even more suspicious of his motivations.
Tom takes the effort to snort. "I get enough of that at home."
I tilt my head.
"Don't take offence brother, I'm sure Abraxas thinks you have a pretty smile too."
Abraxas laughs yet again, but this time, I am able to make out the faint movement of Tom's mouth as well, as if finding the thought amusing and disturbing at the same time.
"The prettiest Tom!" Abraxas bursts out, upon which Tom scowls, mad glee in his eyes.
"You're not really my type Abraxas."
"Why? Not crazy enough?" Bella. Not me.
"No.. insanity you possess, I was thinking more in the lines of lacking female genitals."
"Fair enough."
And so the unpleasantness in the air evaporates. I see it as my cue to escape gracefully and pat Abraxas on the arm before turning to Tom and giving him a nod.
When I turn around and begin to walk I hear Tom's voice, not really shouting as much as talking loudly;
"You haven't forgotten yet have you?"
I pause in my footsteps, not knowing what to say, if I am to say anything.
"I see you outside the schoolgates then, Hermione!"
And his voice holds the clearest, sickest, delight.
A/N: For those interested, the title means "The Headless Horseman" and is in this case based on a song from my favourite french singer, Damien Saez. The lyrics describes a creature made without a heart and tears in his eyes (surprisingly not without his head, but maybe that would be stating the obvious). He has a soul out of steel and appears unhappy with his lack of emotions, wanting to bring light to his soul and dreaming of a woman with two hearts, generous enough to give him one. Obviously, I drew a parallel to the relationship between Hermione and Tom sooo.. there you go.