Snippets
Chapter Twenty
A loud, rough banging wakes Hermione from her sleep. Through bleary eyes, she casts a tempus– 6:15 a.m. Hermione decides then that whoever is banging on her apartment door at quarter after six in the morning on a Saturday is going to learn what being pecked to death by small birds feels like.
Hermione stumbles out of her bed and staggers to her front door, her wand gripped tightly in her right hand. She stands on her toes to look out the peephole on her door and groans aloud when she sees who has woken her up.
She unlocks the chain on her door and yanks it open with a huff.
"It is six o'clock in the morning, Pansy. Why are you here?" Hermione groans, resting her head against her door in exhaustion. "And how do you know where I live?"
The dark-haired witch rolls her eyes and eyes Hermione pointedly.
"Don't worry about how I know," she states, and it's then that Hermione comes to understand why Pansy Parkinson has darkened her doorstep this morning. Well, she understands in theory, but not exactly in actual practice. "The gala is tonight."
Over Pansy's shoulder, she is hoisting a silver garment bag and down by her left side is a rolling traincase– the sort that Muggle hairstylists and makeup artists use.
"Yes, I'm aware," Hermione grumbles, still thoroughly confused. "But once again, it is six in the morning."
Pansy rolls her eyes and breathes deeply, as if centering herself, before she responds.
"Yes, it is. What's your point?"
Hermione sighs, resigning herself to the fact that Pansy is probably not going to leave, so she steps aside to allow the witch into her flat.
Pansy enters Hermione's home, her high-heeled shoes clicking against the hardwood as she does. She drapes the garment bag over the back of the sofa and parks her traincase behind the sofa before she spins around, hands on her hips, and looks Hermione up and down.
Without a word, Pansy stalks into Hermione's kitchen and begins searching through the cupboards until she produces a large, spring green coffee mug.
"How do you take your coffee?" she asks, setting the coffee mug down and moving onto filling the coffee pot with water and starting the brewing process. It surprises Hermione that Pansy Parkinson even knows how to work a Muggle coffee pot, but she decides that it's probably best not to mention it.
"Light and sweet," Hermione mumbles, still half-asleep as she sits down at her eat-in dining table.
Pansy is quiet while she putters around preparing Hermione's coffee, and continues in that fashion once she places the mug in front of her. She takes a seat across from Hermione and waves for Hermione to take a sip from her coffee. Hermione decides that in light of the fact that she doesn't readily store things like arsenic or hemlock in her kitchen cupboards, that this coffee– despite being prepared by Pansy Parkinson– is likely safe, so she takes a small sip.
"Sufficient?" Pansy asks, crossing her arms over her chest and leaning back in her chair.
Hermione nods as she swallows, "It's good. Now, explain yourself."
Pansy sighs dramatically.
"I'm here to get you ready for the gala," Pansy states as if that should've been obvious. Admittedly, it sort of was, but Hermione allows herself to be confused by this perfect stranger showing up at her home for any reason, gala or not. "You are wearing one of my designs tonight. I will not have you looking less than immaculate."
Hermione takes another sip of her coffee.
"I'm perfectly capable of dressing myself, Pansy. I've been doing so for at least a couple of years now," Hermione gripes, although a very small part of her is somewhat grateful for Pansy's intervention.
Pansy seems to eye Hermione's pajamas– a pair of Harry's old flannel pajama pants which got mixed in with her laundry way back when she lived at 12 Grimmauld Place immediately following the War that she never gave back and a worn long-sleeve– and actually turns her nose up.
"We're going to have to agree to disagree on that."
Hermione steps out of the shower and wraps a towel around herself, tucking the tail into the top so it stays secure. Pansy had all but forced Hermione into the shower, telling her that it would be better for her to 'work' on a clean slate.
Hermione had relented mostly because she knew that a shower would wake her up even more quickly than the coffee had– and partially because she's slightly afraid of Pansy Parkinson. She's an intimidating witch, especially when she is brandishing hair irons and makeup brushes.
"What were you planning to do with your hair?" Pansy asks once she manages to get Hermione settled into a stool in her bedroom.
Hermione bites her lower lip. Truthfully, she had been planning to ask Ginny what to do with her hair.
"Well, I thought that with the neckline of the gown that I would put it… up?" Hermione states, although it sounds more like a question.
Pansy stands behind Hermione, staring at her through Hermione's vanity mirror as she places her hands on her shoulders.
"Usually, I would agree with you," Pansy muses, smoothing Hermione's hair back off of her shoulders and tucking some of it behind her left ear. "Pinning your hair up would elongate your neck, but it would also break your body up unevenly due to the cut of the gown."
Hermione admittedly doesn't exactly understand what Pansy means by that comment, but by some twist of fate, she actually trusts her opinion in this area.
"If we pull your hair back like this," Pansy indicates the way in which she has tucked a chunk of Hermione's hair behind her ear, then reaches into her traincase and produces a sparkling hair comb. She tucks the comb into the side of Hermione's head, behind her left ear. "The comb will draw attention and with your hair down, but behind your shoulders, you'll still get that flash of collarbone that seems to drive men a bit mental."
Hermione rolls her eyes. As if she has time for men right now with everything else in her life imploding– although, in Pansy's defense, she doesn't know that.
"I'm not trying to drive men mental, Pansy," Hermione states, crossing her arms over her chest.
"In that dress? You won't have a choice."
"Wow, Hermione," Padma smiles, covering her mouth with her hands when she arrives at Hermione's flat later in the evening prior to the gala. "You look so beautiful."
Hermione smiles in return at her friend– who also looks stunning in her turquoise and gold sari– and looks down at herself.
The dress which Pansy had helped Hermione choose from her boutique is quite beautiful. It's simple, but elegant. The gown is a floor-length, slim-fitting, mermaid style which pools around her feet with an off-the-shoulder neckline, and Pansy had determined that the deep wine shade of the dress was especially flattering against Hermione's skin tone.
As loath as Hermione is to admit that Pansy had done a good job at 'readying' her for this particular gala– she had, despite the unholy hour at which said 'readying' had begun.
The beautiful dress aside, Pansy had also straightened Hermione's hair and pinned some of it back behind her left ear with the comb which she had shown to Hermione earlier and applied (in Hermione's opinion) just the right amount of makeup to her face.
"Alright, Granger, I'm satisfied. Do not touch your hair or face. If you do, I will know about it," Pansy grumbles as she appears from Hermione's bedroom, rolling her traincase behind her.
Hermione notices immediately the moment when Ginny, Padma and Pansy all realize that they're in the same room as one another– probably for the first time since Hogwarts. Each of their eyes widen nearly simultaneously.
"Thank you, Pansy," Hermione says genuinely, reaching out and squeezing her bizarre and newfound friend's (?) hand. "Will I see you at the gala?"
Pansy looks down at the hand which is now holding hers and narrows her eyes. She doesn't pull away, though, which surprises Hermione.
"I'll be there. My husband is a donor."
Hermione nods and smiles a half-smile in thanks before Pansy takes her leave. The door clicks shut behind her before Ginny finally picks her jaw up off the floor.
"What the bloody hell was that about?!"
A loud wolf whistle sounds from somewhere to Hermione's right as she, Ginny and Padma approach the entrance to the area of Mungo's where the gala is being held.
Hermione's head swivels as she searches for the source and she laughs lightly when she finds it.
"Wow, look at you three!" the Irish drawl of Seamus Finnigan sounds as the three witches approach. "Save a dance for me, Hermione? I'd ask all three of you, but I promised my niece that I wouldn't get into any drunken fights for at least a week."
Hermione shakes her head but nods with a smile at her old friend, though she also knows that neither of the husbands of her two companions would be liable to hit Seamus for asking their wives for a dance. Well. Maybe Ron would, but Seamus is his friend and co-worker, so Hermione thinks that it's possibly a toss-up in that regard.
"And where are Dean and Gia tonight?" Hermione wonders, knowing that Seamus and his Hogwarts best friend are still thick as thieves and that Seamus is the godfather to Dean's daughter.
"Gia has a field hockey tournament," Seamus explains. "Dean's thinking of sending her to a camp this summer."
Hermione smiles and promises Seamus a dance before Ginny tugs her away, inside to what Hermione thinks used to be the canteen at St. Mungo's but which has been transfigured and decorated so it resembles something more akin to a ballroom for this event.
"Well, this place sure cleans up alright," Ginny states in awe as she looks around the room.
Hermione quickly finds herself agreeing with her friend. If she didn't know any better, Hermione would never have guessed that the room in which she stands is part of a hospital.
"Oh, look, Hermione, there's your new best friend," Padma snickers, tipping her chin toward the far left side of the room.
Hermione turns her head until her eyes catch the sleek, deep plum silk of Pansy Parkinson's fitted gown. Surrounding Pansy are a crowd of former Slytherins– Blaise Zabini, who has his arm draped around Pansy's waist, Theodore Nott, Healer Greengrass and to Hermione's dismay, Draco Malfoy.
"Which one? Draco or Pansy?" Ginny smirks, nudging Hermione with her elbow.
Hermione sighs and she can't help the way that her face falls at the mention of Draco. A part of her had hoped that she might see him tonight– but perhaps a larger part of her hoped that she wouldn't. She had hoped that he was ill or otherwise indisposed and not just ignoring her. His presence at the gala leads her to believe that it is more likely the latter.
Ginny must notice the look on Hermione's face because her next words are, "Still no word?"
Hermione shakes her head. Ginny nods once, a quick, decisive nod.
"Right then. Where's Seamus? You, my friend, need a dance."
Hermione beams brightly as she finally steps off of the dance floor for what feels like the first time since the evening started.
Harry steps off beside her and places a quick kiss on her cheek, which she returns with a hug around his middle.
"You seem to be having fun," Harry smiles, slinging his arm around Hermione's shoulders and walking alongside her back in the direction of their table. "It's good to see you like this after…"
Harry doesn't finish his sentence, but then again, he doesn't really need to. Hermione knows that she hasn't exactly been herself since her failed treatment.
Before Hermione is able to make it back to her table with Harry, a tap on her shoulder stalls her. Hermione spins in place and comes face to face with the fair skin and ice blue eyes of Healer Greengrass.
Harry drops his arm from around Hermione's shoulders and tips his head toward her before leaving Hermione to speak with her Healer alone.
"Healer Greengrass," Hermione smiles. "You look lovely."
"As do you, Ms. Granger," Healer Greengrass replies, her own smile mirroring Hermione's. "I saw you dancing with your friends. I apologize. I know we're not in an appointment, but I only wanted to ask how you're feeling. At the very least, you seem to have some of your energy back."
Hermione feels badly that Healer Greengrass has spent this evening watching her and not enjoying the gala for herself, but she appreciates the care regardless.
"I'm feeling… alright," Hermione states. She is still tired, but Healer Greengrass is right– at least for tonight, she has been feeling better. "Good. I'm feeling good. For now."
Healer Greengrass smiles a genuine, bright smile.
"I'm so glad to hear that, Ms. Granger," she replies, her eyes crinkling with another grin. "Well, I'll let you get back to your friends. I'll see you on Tuesday?"
Hermione nods in agreement and turns to begin her walk back to her table. Unfortunately for her, Hermione is interrupted once more on her journey– this time by a proffered hand which is adorned by a particular signet ring on the thumb.
"Would you do me the honor of dancing with me, Hermione?"
Hi, friends! Happy Tuesday! (:
Y'ALL. We are more than half-way through this fic! (: We still have another 15 chapters and 3 epilogues, so we have a ways to go, BUT we're more than half-way through!
Also. Fun fact. The next chapter is my absolute favorite chapter in this fic... And I'm pretty sure it'll be most of yours least favorite. Or one of them, lol. Sooo... Get excited? Maybe? Lol.
Fun fact #2. I'm nearly positive that Pansy is possibly my favorite character in the HP universe to write for. Not sure what that says about me as a person, but I'm not here to dispute that right now, lol.
Fun fact #3. I started a new multi-chapter again. :x The new one is different in that it's a Fremione rather than a Dramione, and it probably won't be done for a while and I won't be uploading it for at least five weeks from now because... reasons. (; (Read: I have three more chapters of Love Ain't to upload on Fridays, and then two one-shots ((!)) to upload before I can upload this new multi- ergo, five weeks.) I also have no clue how long this new one will be. So, nothing new there, lol.
As always, thank you so much for spending a bit of your time here with me this week. Your support and encouragement truly makes my day and means so much more to me than you can imagine. So, thank you. (:
Please, if you feel so inclined, please leave a review. They're like candy to me and I get so excited to read your thoughts, theories, opinions, observations, favorite parts- all the things! (:
See you again next week! (: