So, I tried to write a chapter from Hermione's point of view, but I'm not sure how I did, so be sure to tell me. As I thought of these two and Carina, I found a song that reminds me of some things in the story called Complicated by Carolyn Dawn Johnson. I think it fits. Thanks for the newest reviews (even one I may not have liked much) and be sure to keep it up!
Hermione had paid some attention to the behavior of Carina since she had returned, and she found the mood swings rather strange; one minute she was glancing up, dark locks spilling over one shoulder with that mocking smirk on her face, constantly doing her best to make it clear to everyone who wanted to speak to her that she did not care what they said one way or the other; the next, she was tossing Hermione and Luna a cloak to shield them from the rain, buying her butterbeer and then just giving her a perfectly good and warm cloak that she could have used herself.
She had become someone different, and Hermione could not judge her for that; if anything, she had expected it, but it was a far cry from the quirky and charming girl that she had been, and it had been a bit of a shock at first.
It still made the bookworm's heart clench painfully everytime she thought of how she had had a part in that, knowing well enough of the other girl's terrible past; her father had just died as well, to make matters worse, so having to relive that over and over again had to have been agonizing. This was her first friend, the person she had sworn she would never give up on, never abandon, and it was exactly what she had done; quite frankly, she had never felt more ashamed with herself.
If it were Hermione herself, she knew she probably wouldn't have been half as civil as Carina had proved to be. She did not quite understand her old friend as well as she used to anymore, but that was understandable. If anything, it only intrigued Hermione further and made her hope that someday she could be forgiven, because if there was one thing she knew and that Luna had told her she was sure of, it was that Carina had a good heart, if damaged.
Though, if she brought it up herself the raven haired girl would most likely scoff and tell her, "A good heart? You've got to be kidding me. No, I've got the blackest of souls."
The abrupt changes in attitude and sometimes downright rudeness did not stop Hermione from being there for her best friends and Carina at practice, watching as the other girl pulled crazy stunts that made Hermione's stomach drop, not seeming to care that anyone was watching. She might not necessarily listen to Harry, but Carina still worked very well with the others and made sure they always kept their points higher in every game, including this one.
It had happened less than twenty minutes ago, and already there was a party in the common room, Gryffindors going wild; Carina stood in the corner, sipping on a butterbeer and not looking at all amused at the sight of Ron tangled together with Lavender.
Hermione wasn't either—if anything, it stung, because this was the boy she had had a crush on for over a year now and here he was, snogging her dormmate. She cringed at the sight and felt tears building in her eyes, for this was definitely not something she wanted to see; it was impossible to tell who ended where, and it seemed as though they were trying to suck each other's faces off.
Not able to stand the sight any longer, she rushed from the common room and soon found herself sitting on a staircase, trying to stop the tears from falling, to no avail.
Footsteps sounded on the staircase, and when she looked up, she half thought it was Carina—but, no, it was Harry, who had followed her out and obviously been worried.
Without a word, he sat down and offered his arm to her, allowing her to loop one of her on through it and rest her head on his shoulder as the tears fell; they sat there in
complete silence for a few minutes, before Ron appeared in the doorway, hand in hand with Lavender.
"Oops," giggled Lavander, pulling back. "It looks like this one's taken." She left to go find another, but he didn't follow, instead focused on the birds that had been conjured.
"What's with the birds?" questioned Ron, brows furrowed in confusion.
The fact that he had the gall to drag that bimbo in there in the first place irritated Hermione, and she abruptly stood, voice even as she spoke, "Oppugno."
The birds shot straight for the boy, who quickly leapt back and fruitlessly batted at them with his hands, yelping everytime one of them managed to get a peck in on his head, arms or any other body part. He made a mad dash out of the room, and then there was a sudden, angry snarling before he screamed in pain; the snarling had not stopped, nor had his panicked yells, until they had faded.
Then, there was silence.
A dark furred wolf appeared in the doorway, eyes gleaming and snout bloody; it slunk closer, as if unsure, and then growled at Harry. The boy seemed to understand and softly told her goodbye before he left, footsteps gradually fading.
"What did you do?" questioned Hermione quietly, and the wolf sat on its hindquarters, cocking its head to the side as it stared at her. "You bit him, didn't you?" The wolf let a growl rumble through its chest, and she took that as confirmation. "Why? After all I've done to you...why?"
She blinked, and then it was not a wolf sitting there, but Carina, wiping the blood from her mouth with her sleeve, a disgusted look on her face as she ran a hand through her hair, tousling it even further.
"Damage control," said Carina finally, nose scrunching as she scrubbed further at her mouth. "Ugh, and also the last time I taste Weasley's blood for anyone, even you."
"Don't you mean even Luna?" Hermione laughed weakly, though it had no humor in it.
"No. You." The other girl scowled at her, seeming to be wrestling with something inside. In the end, she turned her back and made to walk off, obviously done with the conversation.
"Carina," the bookworm called her back, and this time there was no groan, no mocking smile, nothing. Carina's features were completely neutral, but her gray eyes glinted in the light. "Wait. Please, why are you doing this?"
"I don't like Weasley, why else?"
"No, that's not it." Hermione shook her head, brushing a stray tear away. "You admitted you did it for me, but I want to know why."
Carina frowned at her, but did not speak. If anything, this spurred the other witch on as she walked closer.
"Please," Hermione repeated softly.
"Don't feel like answering questions today, sorry." In an instant, the frown had morphed into that cocky, mocking smile that she had become accustomed with, and Hermione realized something then—Carina was putting up a front. Maybe not all the time, but right now…
"Stop." On impulse, in one swift movement Hermione found herself gripping Carina by the chin and angling her face so that she was forced to look at her, and the smile faded. "Stop pretending, stop acting like you're some deranged psychopath when we both know you aren't."
"Let go of me." The words were delivered in a quiet growl, but it did nothing to stop the older girl as Carina tried to pull back; her grip merely tightened.
"No, Carina. Look at me." Furious gray eyes met calm brown, and Hermione was suddenly aware of the fact that Carina was trembling, and she did not think it was from anger. "You didn't have to do that. Why did you follow me?"
"Because I was worried about you!" snapped Carina suddenly, and her fists clenched. "Maybe, just maybe I got worried enough that I followed you and Potter down the stairs; maybe I noticed that Weasley made you cry and I didn't like it, so I tore his leg up and got bashed in the head in the process!"
The bookworm eyed her with concern, reaching up to touch her head with her free hand; Carina flinched away and grabbed her wrist before she could, seeing as she had no intention of letting go of the younger girl's chin. Hermione winced slightly at the near bone crushing grip on her wrist, and when she noticed, Carina let go.
"Are you alright?" The hand on her chin slowly retracted.
"Fine," the raven haired girl responded shortly, letting out a breath. Her defensive posture made Hermione frown.
"You said you were worried about me."
"Yes."
"I don't understand." And really, she didn't. After all that Hermione had done, the terrible betrayal she had made, why would Carina ever consider helping her in any way, shape or form?
Carina shifted anxiously and clenched her jaw for a moment. "It doesn't matter. Just...let me go, alright? I told you what you wanted."
Hermione suddenly stepped much closer and reached forward with her sleeve to wipe a spot of blood from Carina's nose; the witch's breath audibly hitched, and the bookworm took notice of this, brows furrowing. "What's wrong?"
"Nothing," came Carina's breathless reply as she backed away, reaching around Hermione to put a trembling hand on the doorknob. "I'm just gonna…" She was about to bolt, but the hand grabbing her own stopped her, and she slowly turned her gaze to it.
"Thank you," Hermione told her sincerely, voice softening. "And Carina...I'm so sorry."
The other girl swallowed and nodded once, before she threw open the door and disappeared, leaving Hermione to stand there by herself, eyes trained on the now empty spot.