Hermione spent an entire week in her room at Grimmauld Place. First, crying until she literally had no tears then falling into a state of numbness. Harry and Ginny had tried their best to bring her out of her Blaise-induced depression and failing dismally. Finally, they asked Ron to come over and he had been to one to break her out of the drowning emotion.
"Get up," he had said to her, pulling off her covers, and rolling his eyes at her squeak of indignation. An arm had immediately risen to cover her chest. It had been a long time since she had been in front of Ron in only her bra and knickers.
"Nothing, I haven't seen before. Now get up," Ron insisted. He stood at the end of her bed.
"What are you bloody doing?! Get out," Hermione said, attempting to grasp the covers and pull them over herself.
"No. You are going to get up. Get dressed and meet me downstairs." At her hiss of anger, he continued, "Or I am going to call your mother." With that threat, he left the room, the sound of his feet echoing from the stairs.
Meekly, she rose with a sigh. She opened her closet, grabbing a pair of jeans and a Weird Sisters band tee. She stepped into a pair of black flats, and secured her hair in a messy ponytail. Stopping by the loo, she washed her face and took the time to brush her teeth. No makeup, it was only Ron after all, she thought.
She tramped down the stairs, still slightly angry at her less than pleasant wake up call.
Ron was sitting on the couch, and at her appearance stood. "Come on, we are going to go for coffee."
"I don't want coffee," Hermione said bluntly. What she wanted was to go back upstairs and burrow her head under the covers.
"I don't care. You're coming," Ron said, his arms crossed over his chest.
"What the...! You know what? Okay, fine. If it will get you off of my back," Hermione said, following him out of the door.
Ten minutes later, she was sitting in a small coffee shop in Diagon Alley, a mug of tea in her hands. Steam rolled gently off the liquid, and the mug warmed her hands.
After a moment of silence, Ron finally spoke. "Everyone is worried about you. You won't leave your room. You don't come out and talk to anyone. And you look like shit," Ron ignored her gasp of affront and continued, "Harry says that you came to Grimmauld Place, after quitting your job over Blaise Zabini. Yeah, Harry told me about you and Blaise. So what did he do to you? All I need is an address, and he's done. We aren't together anymore, but I still care about what happens in your life. You are the first girl I ever loved. I'll kill any bastard who makes you cry like you have been doing," Ron ended on a fierce note.
Hermione was uncomfortable. She would always love Ron in her own way, but there isn't an easy way to tell your former boyfriend about the new man in your life. Or the man that she wished was there.
"I don't want you to do anything. I...I love him, Ron, and I thought that he loved me. I could feel that he did. It was so strong, but I guess only I felt it. He didn't technically string me along. We spent time together, and it just happened. At least on my part. Merlin, I'm shit at relationships," Hermione sighed, her head down.
"No you're not, Hermione, I accept my part in the way that our relationship ended. I think that we loved each other, but it wasn't a love that was supposed to last. That doesn't mean it wasn't real, it was," he said looking into her eyes.
Hermione drew in a deep breath. "I gave it my best shot, Ron. I poured out my heart to him, and it still ended in a bloody mess. I can't even be angry with him. He was actually being quite honorable about the situation. It's just...I thought. Well, it doesn't matter what I thought, the result is still the same. He is engaged. He is not going to end it, and I can't think beyond that."
Ron gazed at her sadly. "If he doesn't realize the great woman that you are then he's thick, and frankly, I wouldn't want you with an arse like that."
Hermione was tired of discussing herself. "So how are you and Lavender?"
After looking at her a moment, he said, "We're doing good. She is still a bit clingy. We're working on it. We fight all the time, but then we make up," he said with a grin.
Hermione smiled. "I'm happy for you, Ron. Seems like Harry and Ginny are getting pretty serious."
Ron grimaced a bit. "Well, if anyone is going to be with my little sister, I'd rather it be my best mate. And besides, Ginny could probably kick Harry's arse herself if he steps out of line. She can be scary, that one can."
Hermione giggled. It was nice spending time with Ron. Time that there was no added pressure of a romantic relationship, strained or otherwise. She had missed her friend.
They finished their coffee, chatting amiably before returning to Grimmauld Place.
Hermione thanked Harry for letting her basically wallow in his home, but told him that it was time to go home and face the music. Joan Granger was getting tired of taking no for an answer.
Joan gazed at her child. She had been home for two days. Hermione had always been a quiet, studious girl, but this new level of silence worried Joan. She had decided to take another approach and wait until Hermione wanted to talk.
The girl sat at the breakfast table in a pair of black sweats, and one of John's old white tee-shirts that had seen better days. John had left for the hardware store, one of his weekend traditions. The man spent hours there, but rarely came home with a thing. Joan had never understood it, but she loved her husband, eccentricities and all.
Joan had been surprised to find Hermione already downstairs nursing a glass of orange juice. Joan had immediately entered mum mode, mixing a bowl of pancake batter and adding chocolate chips for good measure. Ruffling Hermione's curls a bit, Joan turned to the stove, pouring the batter into a hot skillet.
"Mum, can I talk to you about something? I mean, without judgment?" Hermione said quietly, one finger tracing the edge of the juice glass in front of her.
"Of course you can...Is everything okay. You aren't pregnant are you?" Joan asked trepidation in her voice.
"No Mum! I'm not pregnant," Hermione said quickly. Thank god, she thought silently. "Mum, I've just...well. I kind of got involved with this guy."
"Okay," Joan said, nodding at Hermione to continue.
"And well, I spent a lot of time with him. The thing is...he's engaged."
Joan was shocked, but years as a dentist allowed her to school her features. It came in handy at her job, one never knew the state of someone's teeth when they came in the office. Whoo, some of the stories she could tell. She knew her daughter. There was more to the story. She simply nodded again and waited, transferring the pancakes to a plate on the table. She added butter and syrup.
Hermione visibly relaxed. "I want you to know, mum, that I didn't do anything with him once I found out he was engaged. I did spend way too much time with him, and that was stupid of me. I just thought...well, I guess I don't know what I thought. I hoped that maybe...he would choose me, but he didn't, mum. He still chose her," Hermione said tearfully. She reached over, forking two pancakes onto her plate, and dousing the lot with syrup. She cut into the cakes, letting the syrup soaked bread act as a tiny balm to her heart.
Joan had listened to Hermione spill her heart silently then reached over to pull her child into her arms, hugging her tightly.
"My poor baby, that you should have your heart broken so," Joan said. "I knew something was wrong with you. You can't fool me, young lady. I'm your mother. I birthed you. I can tell by simply looking at your face when something has upset you, but you are a grown woman now, and I was going to wait until you felt ready to talk."
"Thank you, mum. I'm sorry that it took me so long to talk. Frankly, I was embarrassed," Hermione said, taking a sip of her orange juice. Her mother made the best breakfast. Hermione never understood why even if she did the exact same steps, her mother's pancakes always tasted better.
"Poppet, you don't have anything to be embarrassed about. You didn't do anything wrong. You are the woman that I raised you to be, and I'm nothing but proud of you. Your father would agree," Joan said. "Do you feel like getting away for a bit? I think your father and I could help with that. You know, we never did sell our condo in Australia. We can call ahead and have the utilities turned on. You can stay there for as long as you need. Maybe invite Ginny and the others? Make a holiday out of it?"
Hermione didn't know about that. Yeah, my last holiday had gone so very well, she thought sarcastically.
It was a week later, after receiving a save the date invitation from Jacqueline, that decided her.
She couldn't believe how malicious the witch was. The witch had had to get one final dig in. A hey bitch, you thought you did something? Well look at this.
The invitation had baby pictures of Blaise and Jacqueline on the front. Being a wizard invitation, Hermione watched a continuous loop of a baby Blaise being drawn into his father's strong arms, giggling as the man smacked a kiss on his chubby cheek. The picture of Jacqueline showed a white blonde baby cuddling into a Grace Kelly look-alike's arms.
Hermione scowled. Even Jacqueline's mother had been beautiful. Too bad beauty often hid rot inside.
Hermione started thinking that it would be nice indeed to visit Australia.
Ginny squealed in delight at the idea of visiting Australia. Even the thought of flying in a Muggle plane didn't give her pause. "So your mum and dad have a condo in Brisbane?"
Hermione was sitting on the couch in Grimmauld Place. "Yeah, they never sold it. I think they meant for it to become a vacation spot. When I went back to get them after the war, it seemed like a good place. Maybe now I'll actually get some time to see the sights."
Ginny reached over to pat Hermione's hand. "So...how are you?"
"I'm okay. It's going to take some time, but it's going to be fine," Hermione said in a falsely bright tone.
Ginny sighed. Hermione wasn't fooling anyone. She decided to shelve the interrogation for a while. "Well, I think a holiday is what we all need. Between Quidditch for me, and Auror training for Harry and Ron, well I think everyone is due. Is it going to bother you if Lavender comes?"
Hermione laughed a little. "Ginny, at this point, it wouldn't bother me if Ron and Lavender snog in front of my face. It really is over between Ron and me," Hermione said. Really, the thought of Lavender and Ron together was okay. Nothing could hurt her like Blaise had.
"Well, okay. I think Harry can use his status as The Boy Who Lived, to get us some holiday time. I'm just not looking forward to seeing Ron's pale legs in swim trunks," Ginny said on a giggle.
Hermione packed enough clothes for at least a fortnight. No sense in letting those clothes she bought for France go to waste.
On the plane, she got the distinct pleasure of sitting in between Ginny and Ron. Ginny wasn't a problem. She seemed to take everything in stride. Ron, however, spent hours looking green, mumbling under his breath about how flying in a machine wasn't natural. Give him a broom any day. Hermione had finally had to elbow him in the side before he noticed the odd looks he was getting from Muggles. Lavender simply patted his hand, and kissed him on the temple. Obviously her adoration for Ron clouded the fright that the witch would have normally had in the plane.
Harry, coming from a Muggle childhood himself, spouted random statistics about plane travel until Hermione wanted to strangle him.
"Harry, you do realize that Ginny, Ron, and Lavender probably only understand half of what you are saying right?" Hermione had finally said, rendering the wizard mute. After her pronouncement, she put on the headphones provided by the airline, and tried to lose herself in a truly horrid Hugh Grant film.
She slept a bit, and woke only when the stewardess brought them a small meal of roasted chicken, mashed potatoes, and green beans. The meal was surprisingly good for airline food, and Hermione gobbled down the meal, starving. She had spent entirely too many days with little appetite.
After a seemingly interminable flight, they finally landed in Brisbane. The baggage claim was beyond hectic, and reeling in her Non-Muggle raised friends awe at the surroundings conspired to give Hermione a headache.
Once in a large taxi, and on her way to her parent's condo, Hermione allowed herself to take in the beauty of her surroundings. The Jacaranda trees were in bloom, and she found the violet flowers a lovely accent against the bright blue sky. The weather was so different from London, and Hermione was glad that she had taken the time to buy a few sundresses. The pale green one she wore, paired with little brown sandals, was perfect for the eighty degree weather. The tropical heat was going to take some getting used to. Music played in the background. Madonna's Ray of Light. Hermione rolled her eyes; she was beyond tired of the song.
Snapping a hair-tie from her wrist, Hermione gathered her hair, twisting the heavy curls into a knot on her head. She didn't care how it looked, she just wanted it off of her neck.
"So, Hermione, where how big did you say your parents condo was?" Lavender said.
"It's four bedrooms and two loo's. It has a small kitchen and decently sized living room. It's on the sixth floor if I remember right," Hermione said index finger to her mouth thinking. "Yes, it is on the sixth floor. I remember looking down at the Brisbane River."
"Ooooh, this is going to be so much fun. I haven't taken a holiday in forever," Lavender said.
Hermione had made a point to be nice to the witch. Even though the comment that she had overheard her saying that day had directly led Hermione to heartbreak. She couldn't blame the witch. It was her own fault. My fault for being such an air-headed ninny, Hermione thought to herself.
Ginny had been surprised when Hermione hadn't minded Lavender's presence, but after she saw her try her best to be pleasant, some of her anxiety eased. She was glad. Hermione needed some effortless fun. She felt bad for her. It had been years of heavy for her friend. First Voldemort then the breakup with Ron, now the heartache over Blaise. When Ginny had told Harry about Hermione's offer of accompanying her to Australia, they got together with Ron, all deciding that they would try their best to show Hermione a good time. Ron had even been prepared to tell Lavender that she couldn't go, but was secretly glad when Hermione hadn't minded.
"I'm bloody starving," Ron suddenly said. "I say that when we get to the condo, we all shower then go out for some dinner. I'm tired, but I know that no one else feels like cooking. Besides, I doubt that your mum called ahead to have someone stock the fridge, right Hermione?"
"No, I don't think that they did. You're right though, I certainly won't feel like cooking," Hermione said.
"Wow, this place is nice, Hermione!" Harry said, looking around the room.
The condo had floor to ceiling windows facing the meandering Brisbane River. The floors were dark wood, cooled by the very welcoming air conditioning. The living room had a large, beige sectional with matching chairs. There was a small coffee table, with a few large photograph books on top.
The kitchen was more dark wood cabinets and stainless steel appliances. Above the sink was a golden tiled back splash with maroon accents. There was even a dishwasher.
The bedrooms were a decent size, each one had a queen sized bed except for the master bedroom. It had a king sized bed and an adjoining bathroom. That room, Hermione claimed for herself. It was her parent's condo after all.
"You could have given that room to Harry and I," Ginny said under her breath jokingly. "Lavender is going to hog the other one. The time the witch must use simply to do that hair," she ended sharing a giggle with Hermione.
"I don't know about you lot, but I'm feeling pretty tired. Why don't we order in instead of going out," Hermione suggested. They had all taken the time to shower, dressing in cool lightweight clothing.
"Ordering in?" Ron said. Hermione watched the light bulb click in his eyes, "Oh! You mean you can order food using the phone. Brilliant that."
Hermione laughed. It still amused her a bit at how the magical people she met still goggled over Muggle things. Searching out the phone in the kitchen, she pursued the phone book. "What do you guys feel like eating?" she called back into the living room.
"What about Italian?" Lavender called from the room. The room went silent. Lavender's eyes widened.
Hermione could hear her quietly asking what she had said wrong.
"Oh,no! I really feel like seafood, right Harry? Seafood sounds brilliant right about now," Ginny quickly piped in.
Hermione smiled sadly. No, she didn't feel like Italian. "Seafood it is," she called back. "And I'm buying. No arguments," she said to cover the awkward moment.
Soon they all sat around the coffee table, instead of the bar stools, the only other meal area. They feasted on crispy-skin barramundi on roasted fennel, shrimp, and even fish and chips that Ron insisted be included, washing it all down with ice cold colas.
"I don't know if I enjoy the fizziness of this beverage," Lavender said. "I think I much prefer tea, but this is nice, if only occasional."
"Hey, that is only for starters," Ron said, going into his bedroom and returning with two large bottles of tequila in each hand. Hermione couldn't think of where he had gotten them. "Do you have some shot glasses in here, Hermione?"
Hermione's brow crinkled a bit. "Actually I don't know. My parents don't really drink a lot."
"Well their mates must have, because I found this stashed in my room," Ron laughed.
Hmmm, Hermione thought, maybe there are some things that I don't know about my parents. "Well if they have the drink, they must have the glasses," she said standing and walking to the kitchen. There she found a stack of shot glasses and she returned with five glasses.
Ron's brow rose after he had poured everyone a shot, and Hermione was the first to down hers.
Hermione smirked. "Hey, I do do some things besides study," she said grinning. "How bout we make this more interesting? What about a game of Never Have I Ever."
Harry grinned. He was, of course, the only one who knew about the Muggle drinking game, explaining, "Okay the rules are we go around in a circle each stating something that we have never done, starting with the phrase: "Never Have I Ever". If anyone in the group has done it they have to drink a shot. If no one has, the asker has to take the shot. Easy right?" he finished.
"Oooo. I'll start," Ginny said. "Okay. Never have I ever...um...been involved in a tussle with a troll at school," she said giggling when Harry, Ron, and Hermione took their shots.
"My turn," Harry said coughing a bit at the sting of alcohol. "Never have I ever been on the end of a vindictive spell by either Hermione or Ginny," he said crowing with laughter when Ron downed another shot.
"Maybe I should take one more for good measure, mate," Ron said laughingly. On and on the statements went, getting more outlandish and scandalous, until everyone was getting pretty pissed.
"Okay," Lavender said, slurring. "Ever have I Never," she stopped, laughing, "Oops, Never have I ever, had a one night stand."
Ginny quickly looked at Hermione, seeing the witch flinch a bit. Hermione stiffened then calmly reached out to take her shot glass, only her slightly trembling hand betraying her. She downed the shot then stood. "I'm feeling rather sleepy. I think I'll just go on to bed," she said and walked, if somewhat unsteadily, to her bedroom, closing the door with a quiet click behind her.
She didn't see Lavender's eyes pop out, and her jaw almost hit the coffee table.