Finding True Happiness | By : CeliaEquus Category: Harry Potter > Het - Male/Female Views: 19445 -:- Recommendations : 0 -:- Currently Reading : 0 |
Disclaimer: I have no claim on the Harry Potter franchise, and am making no money from any of my fan fiction. |
Warning: Yes, yes. I know. Only it’s almost-swearing in this chapter, but the word is very clearly implied.
“Confession”
Around the same time
“I feel terrible,” Hermione said. She was curled up on the couch, staring into the fireplace. She remembered the thing she had done the previous day. It hadn’t helped at all. Nothing worked. “Usually I’d go to Ginny with my problems, the ones I can only talk about with another girl. But she’s had her own troubles, and I’ve been neglecting her.”
“You’ve been busy,” Ernie said, looking at her over the top of his textbook.
“No,” she said, shaking her head furiously. “That’s not it at all. Just after her troubles started my life seemed to be going in a… a wonderful direction. It was like we were both only going all right, and then as soon as her life started to go wrong mine started to go more… more right than it ever has! Yet now that everything’s gone down the shi…”
“Hermione!”
“Drain, you’d almost expect Ginny’s luck to get better,” she said. “But it hasn’t. I went to Gryffindor Tower before, but she seemed as disinterested as she was during dinner. I don’t know what to do about her.”
“I know she’s your friend, Hermione,” Ernie said, “but you’ve got to remember that your loyalties are towards the whole school now. You can’t just seek out to solve your friends’ problems; they have to come to you, just like everyone else.”
“Yeah, I know,” she said, kicking the coffee table absent-mindedly. Ernie sighed and began to pack up.
“You’re great company tonight,” he remarked. “Look, why don’t we ask the house elves to bring something up to us? We could have a kind of party – or at least tea.”
Hermione considered this. However, before she could decide someone entered the room.
“Miss Granger, I wish to speak with you,” Professor McGonagall said. She glanced at Ernie. “We could go to your room…”
“It’s all right, professor,” he said, holding up his hands. “I was just about to take this to my room. I can finish studying in there, since Hermione won’t need the company.”
“Thanks, Ernie,” Hermione said. He smiled at her, almost affectionately, and left them alone. Professor McGonagall sat in the opposite armchair.
“Hermione,” she said, “what is wrong with you?”
“I’m… I’m sorry, profess…”
“You know perfectly well to what I am referring! Is it the stress of schoolwork? The NEWTs are still months away. Is it Christmas? Are there problems at home? Have you been harassed by any of the students here? Or teachers?”
“No, professor,” she said, studying her feet carefully. “Nothing like that.”
“Then why are you so… unlike yourself?”
“It’s… it’s nothing…”
“And don’t tell me that it’s nothing, young lady,” McGonagall said, the feather on her hat quivering as she stared at her student sternly. “I know you well. You were brighter than ever, and now you have changed dramatically. Tell me what is wrong.”
They sat in silence, the Transfiguration mistress looking at the Head Girl. Finally, Hermione cracked.
“I fell in love,” she whispered.
“You did? Why, that’s wonderful! Why aren’t you pleased?”
“I was,” she said. McGonagall frowned.
“Did he hurt you? Was it all a practical joke?”
“You could say that.” She folded her arms, once more gazing into the flames from her place on the couch. “I was certainly played for a fool.”
“Who was it?”
She sighed. “It was… it was Peeves.”
McGonagall’s eyes widened to comic proportions. “The poltergeist?”
“Yes.”
“He tricked you?”
“Y-yes.” Hermione sniffled, but she blinked back the tears again. He’s not worth crying over, she reminded herself. “He gave me presents, he wrote to me, he spoke to me, he… he seduced me.” She looked down at her lap in shame. “I fell for it all. I fell for him. Like some lovesick idiot I kept every gift, even saved some flowers, and the notes that we wrote to each other. He knew so much. He would kiss me, he would cuddle me, he would use his fingers to…” She blushed furiously. Her teacher was also bright red.
“I see,” she said, avoiding eye contact with her student.
“I’m sorry, professor. I’ve failed you.”
“Just… continue with your story, my dear.”
“Very well.” Hermione breathed deeply. “As time went on I fell in love. I knew… no, I thought that he was the one. It even made sense; he was intelligent, witty, didn’t care about what I looked like, gave me so much pleasure, left presents for me, even helped me come to terms with Crookshanks’ death. No one else had ever shown such interest, not even Viktor. And when… and when I was with him – with Peeves – he made me feel like I was the most important thing in his world. In a way,” she snorted, “I guess I was. He used me to become human.”
“Peeves is now a human?” Professor McGonagall said, sitting forward. “When did this happen? How did this happen?”
“Uh, fifteen days ago. I foolishly got carried away. If… if a powerful witch willingly gives her virginity to a poltergeist then that poltergeist can take human form.”
“Oh, Hermione. Surely you…” McGonagall shook her head. “My poor girl.”
“And now he’s alive, and I feel dead inside,” she said. “Or, at least, I think I do. You see,” she placed a hand on her chest to control her breathing, “I… we forgot to cast the Spell. When we told Professor Dumbledore, he gave me a potion, but it was more than twelve hours after… after…”
“Yes, quite,” the professor said. She cleared her throat and looked pityingly on the miserable young woman before her. “Is there any m… Wait a moment. You told the headmaster?”
“Yes. He had to be informed, you see, what with Hogwarts not having a poltergeist anymore.”
“And he didn’t see fit to tell me.” She shook her head. “Never mind that. So do you believe that you are pregnant?”
“I don’t know. I might be. I’m going to check with Madame Pomfrey tomorrow.”
“Good. Good girl.”
“Thanks.” Hermione half-smiled, but the smile dropped immediately. “I thought that I could get over it. After all, he never really loved me. So I…”
“You?”
“I made copies of every physical thing that he made for me; even the flowers. Then I burned each Simulacrum in this very fireplace,” she gestured, “in the hope that I could forget what happened, or at least get over him.”
“Did it work?”
“…No.”
“Perhaps if you had burnt the real things…”
“But don’t you see?” Hermione stood up, waving her arms. “I couldn’t do that! He made those things for me, things that he knew I would enjoy. And, professor, you should see how artistic they are.” She ran a hand through her wild hair. “He’s so talented. He’s amazing, incredible…” Her face crumpled as she finally allowed tears to surface. “All for m-me.” She lost control. “And I still l-love him… and I always w-will, damn him!”
She collapsed to her knees and buried her face in Professor McGonagall’s robes. Great big sobs wracked her small body as she cried for the first time in… oh, in months, it seemed.
“That’s right, dear,” the deputy headmistress crooned, stroking her head. “Just let it out. That’s the best way. Tell me, have you not cried before now?”
“No, of course not,” Hermione managed to say. “He broke my heart. W-why should he d-deserve my t-tears? I keep telling m-myself that he’s n-not worth crying over.” She covered her face in the heavy cloth again, trying to muffle the sounds of her weeping.
“Your heart is worth it, though,” McGonagall said.
“And the worst p-part of it is that I would do it all again in a heartbeat, just to feel that pure happiness once more.”
She pushed Hermione away gently. “Go to bed, Hermione. Now that you’ve let out your grief you might feel better in the morning, yes?” She nodded reluctantly. “Then get to bed. I must go and see the headmaster.”
Hermione didn’t hear her; merely waited until her professor was gone before dragging herself back onto the couch. Homework would save her; homework would take her mind off things.
…Or not. But we’ll see that soon enough, yes? Yes.
Please review, dear ones! I need the support, especially as I still need a job. I have a friend who’s been looking for work since the middle of last year, so I hold out very little hope indeed. Please cheer me up!
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