Hermione was miserable. Nothing had helped. Not a half bottle of her favorite wine. Not a bar of her good "period week" dark chocolate. Not a boiling hot shower. Not even a spin with her vibrator -well, that helped ease some of her frustrations, but not the ones that were really plaguing her at the moment. Nothing could ease or erase her dejection. So she was determined to just lay here as long as it took for her to die. She was already miserable and alone -aside from her cat, which she figured in itself added to the level of pathetic- so she figured an early death was on par for her.
She raised herself up, the pillow she had thrown on top of her head sliding down her back as she did, when she saw the blinding light of the patronus enter her bedroom. There stood Harry's stag, looking all majestic and making her decor look homely in comparison. The stag opened its mouth, and Harry's worried voice spilled out.
"Hermione- Ginny says she saw you rushing out, and she was worried about you. Sorry I didn't notice immediately. We tried to floo call, but we're guessing you've closed it off on your end. Everything okay? We missed you. Thanks for the scarf, and the owl -what's his name, by the way? Ginny says she'll involve the Minister of Magic if we don't hear back from you in a timely fashion, and judging by the fact that he's currently seated on my couch, I don't think that's an idle threat. Send your otter back so we know you're okay. Love you."
Hermione groaned in exasperation, getting up off the bed to meander over to her purse, snatching her wand out of the side pocket and summoning her patronus as she adjusted her towel.
"Harry, I'm fine. My stomach and head were bothering me a bit, and I figured it was a good idea to head home and get some uninterrupted rest before work tomorrow. I'm sorry for missing the presents, and the cutting of the cake. And for not saying goodbye. Also, your owl's name is Elfric. Seemed fitting, what with how over-eager he can be. Tell Ginny to call off the search party. I'm fine; just at home nursing a tender tummy. If you call again and I don't respond, I swear I'm just sleeping, not dead in a ditch somewhere. Love you."
With a flick of her wrist, her little silver otter swam off through the air towards Grimmauld Place. Hermione stumbled wearily over to her dresser, letting her damp towel fall off her body as she did, and grabbed a pair of knickers and slipped them on. She then lumbered her way back towards her bed, set her wand on her nightstand, flopped back down on her mattress with an exaggerated sigh, and fell fast asleep.
Hermione woke up to pounding on her front door. She groggily sat up and checked the time on her vintage muggle alarm clock. Ugh! It was only 7:25! She summoned an over-sized t-shirt from her basket of laundry that had yet to be folded, and pulled it on to cover her chest as she made her way to her front door.
"Who is it?" she called, resting her aching forehead on the cool wood.
"Me, Ginny. Obviously. Who else would try to hunt you down by Muggle means when you've closed off all other options? Now open up! I brought coffee and muffins from the shop 'round the corner!"
"Gin, you know I'm trying to lose weight! Why do you tempt me so?" Hermione moaned, her tastebuds already dancing at the thought of the sweet muffin, fresh out of the oven. She'd much prefer that over the stale, quasi-cardboard that was the dry, whole wheat toast she had been planning on making herself to accompany her unsweetened grapefruit juice.
"If you don't open this door right now, I'll be forced to eat them both myself."
Hermione's shoulders dropped, but she quickly unlocked the door and stood aside for her friend to enter.
"There, that wasn't so hard, was it?" Ginny asked, thrusting a brown paper bag into Hermione's eagerly waiting hands. "You are wearing knickers under that shirt, right?"
Hermione chuckled, walking back down the short hallway towards her kitchen. "Do you honestly think I would answer the door without at least knickers on? What kind of guileless hussy do you take me for?" she asked incredulously as she set the bag on her cafe style table and pulled out the contents.
"Oh, my god. I don't know if I hate you, or love you." Hermione gasped, her eyes sparkling as they feasted upon a pair of her favorite cranberry citrus muffins with orange glaze. They were seasonal. She didn't wait for an invitation before she plucked up one of the still-warm muffins and promptly began eating.
Ginny huffed, but looked pleased nonetheless. "You better damn well love me, because I had to get up extra early to go to the bank to exchange for muggle money to buy those. Plus, who else is going to keep you in pastry when school starts up in September? Not Harry! And certainly not Ron! They would never even think to do so."
Hermione placed her muffin carefully on the table -not wanting it to teeter over now that it was off balance- and walked over to Ginny, grabbing her on both sides of the head, and, as a laughing Ginny tried to shake her off, placed a crumby kiss on her forehead.
"Was that completely necessary?" The redhead asked as she attempted to brush the crumbs and glaze off of herself.
"For these muffins? Yes. If you hadn't volunteered yourself to be my muffin girl, I was contemplating pimping myself out for them." Hermione sighed dramatically, taking another large bite out of her muffin. Ginny gave a derisive snort and took a swig of her coffee.
Hermione knew that she really shouldn't be partaking in the treat Ginny had brought, as it was sure to derail all her hard work as soon as her stomach realized it wasn't getting something quite as yummy for the next meal, but she couldn't help it. Plus, she figured that a muffin or two more before she went to teach at Hogwarts wouldn't kill her. Hogwarts, where she'd be parted from the sticky goodness of fresh, seasonal muffins except on rare occasions when Ginny was magnanimous enough to bring her one. She'd have plenty of time to climb stairs and work off the weight she'd gained since the end of her school days and the war. She wasn't a teenager any more, and she knew she wasn't "over-weight" per se, but when her favorite pair of jeans no longer fit, and her button down shirts began to pull across the chest, something had to be done. So she'd decided to go on a diet, and start walking as much as possible instead of just apparating or flooing like she had been. Some places that didn't work, but if it was close or if it was Muggle, she'd walk. She'd also started going with her mum to the gym three times a week. She wasn't quite sure how she was going to keep that up over the school year, but she was determined to figure something out.
"So," began Ginny, breaking Hermione out of her reverie. "Why did you leave so early last night, and without saying goodbye to anyone? No one except me even knew you had left until the cake was being served."
Hermione guiltily fiddled with her takeaway cup, hastily taking a large sip so she didn't have to respond. She regretted it instantly, as she scalded her mouth on the piping hot liquid. She quickly swallowed, as her sink was too far away to spit the lava-like liquid out into, and began frantically fanning at her mouth as she ran to her fridge for a glass of milk, or pumpkin juice, or something cold.
"Oops. Meant to tell you I'd left that under a stasis." Ginny said, looking abashed as her friend chugged down the last of the orange juice, straight from the carton.
After a quick wandless, non-verbal healing spell on her tongue and palate, Hermione could no longer put off answering her friend's query. "I left early because I wasn't feeling well." She said as smoothly as possible, hoping the half-truth would suffice for now. It didn't.
The look of stoic incredulity that Ginny gave her would have made Minerva McGonagall beam with pride. As much as Minerva ever beamed, that is. "Sure, that's what you told Harry, but I can hear the lie even when it comes from your patronus' mouth and not your own. Harry doesn't like to dive too deeply with you, so he let it go. He especially wasn't going to pry further after Ron made an assumption that it must be 'woman issues.'"
Hermione rolled her eyes hard and looked heavenward. She could almost see Ron, blanching at the very thought, as he told Harry about the utter carnage he figured must've happened to make her leave without saying goodbye, the horror of such a thing as a period weighing heavily on his masculine mind.
"I know that's not the case, 'cause our cycles are still roughly synced from when we had a flat together. I need to know: what really happened? And don't you dare try to pass off another half-arsed lie to me, Hermione! I will know if you do. I was trained by the best, you know."
Her shoulders slumped forward in defeat, and Hermione quickly mumbled her way through the whole harrowing tale, her cheeks reddening as she went. She refused to meet Ginny's gaze the whole while, not wanting to see the shock she knew would be there.
"And then I stumbled out the bedroom door, grabbed my bag, and almost ran to the apparation point the next street over because I couldn't face seeing anyone on my way towards the floo."
Hermione could hardly stomach seeing her friend's face, but after two solid minutes of silence, her curiosity got the better of her. Ginny's eyes were round as saucers, her jaw hanging slack, mouth in a near perfect "O". When Hermione's eyes locked on her, she began squealing and jumping up and down.
"I can't believe you did that! Oh, Merlin, it's like Christmas came early! I knew you didn't actually feel sick, but I never dreamed that something this juicy had happened!"
Hermione blushed scarlet, her hair hiding her face as she hung her head in shame and embarrassment. "If you're quite done," she seethed, punctuating her words with a sideways glare, "I need help dealing with the potentially disastrous results of this horrifically asinine mistake I made! Could you please help me figure out how I'm going to face Harry, while knowing that the man who is, for all intents and purposes, his father and I have snogged good and proper, and that I've touched his... You know!"
Ginny grinned evilly, very much resembling her twin older brothers. "No, I don't know. Do tell?" With a waggle of copper-colored eyebrows and a rather ridiculously inappropriate yowling noise, the two girls dissolved into unrestrained giggles.
Hermione checked the time and attempted to reign in her laughter, regretfully saying, "You really should get going so I can change and get to work on time. I've only got a month left at the Ministry before I leave for Hogwarts, and I'd hate to start being tardy now."
Ginny nodded her head, and went to give Hermione a hug. While there, she murmured, "I don't think you made a mistake, by the way." And with that, she turned on the spot and was gone, leaving behind a very bemused Hermione.
Author's Note:
Wow. Just, wow. It's been only 4 days since I first posted, and I'm still a bit in shock. Neither of my other stories took off this quickly. I haven't given up on those, btw, but they remind me of a more painful time, so it's hard to work on them.
I just wanted to say thanks to my reviewers:
Miette in the Rain, GillianLSteele, ndavis77 -thank you for your reviews! I appreciate each one of them. Finding a new review always puts a smile on my face. This chapter is dedicated to you three. :)
Also, happy 37th birthday, Hermione Jean Granger! I almost completely overlooked that little fact!