Victim of the Fall | By : PrettyDesdemona Category: Harry Potter > Het - Male/Female > Draco/Hermione Views: 32726 -:- Recommendations : 5 -:- Currently Reading : 7 |
Disclaimer: I do not own the Harry Potter universe or any of its characters. I do not make any money off this story. Only love! |
CHAPTER 3
CRADLE AND ALL
“In the daylight, everything is so gory.”
One day blended tirelessly into the last as Hermione waited anxiously for McGonagall’s reply. The atmosphere in the Burrow was as tense as ever, with Harry, Ron and Ginny relentlessly avoiding Hermione whenever they could. Fortunately, the Burrow’s layout was such that this wasn’t hard. Harry had set up camp in Ron’s room after the final battle and as his condition worsened, Ginny slowly moved in and Ron slowly moved out. So Hermione was left alone in Ginny’s room and Ron moved into Percy’s old bedroom. His older brother had long lived in London and, despite his reconciliation with his family, had no desire to give up his new found independence.
So it was that the four younger inhabitants of the house rarely had to communicate as they remained confined to their own spaces. Once upon a time, Hermione thought that dinner might have been a problem. Once upon a time Mrs Weasley would have forced them all to eat together. But Mrs Weasley never cooked anymore and Hermione couldn’t remember the last time they had all sat around the old wooden dining table to eat a meal together.
After a few days, Hermione began to notice that as a result of the heightened tension, an unofficial system of shifts seemed to have been established around the use of the kitchen. Harry, Ron and Ginny would eat just on dark, if Harry could be persuaded to leave his room. Either way, Hermione knew to avoid the eating area at that time because Ginny would inevitably be down there cooking for the three of them. After they were done, Arthur would get home and he and Molly would sit in the garden and eat the sandwiches he prepared. Mrs Weasley didn’t seem to be inclined to eat anything different and Hermione would have eaten with them, but she found after doing this once that the silence was too heavy and spending time around Molly just made her sad. So, in the end, Hermione would wait for everyone to go to bed and, when she was sure the house was sleeping, she would drift downstairs for her own meal. Once every two days or so, George would stay at the Burrow and late at night, he would join her. They would sit silently at the table together and eat, each lost in their own torture. Hermione wondered why he favoured her company over the others and she almost wished he would eat with someone else. She loved George but could not handle the quiet. She felt as if she hadn’t spoken a single word in a week.
She spent most of her time during the day down in the village of Ottery St Catchpole, browsing aimlessly through the muggle shops and sipping tea at a little café in the main street.
Hermione thought it suited her to be distant. She liked the feeling of no longer having to justify her every word. It was a relief. With everyone so jumpy now, the words “what’s that supposed to mean?” were heard regularly and Hermione liked that she could speak and think openly when she was alone, without having to answer that question for herself, let alone anyone else. She would have appreciated the freedom a little more if she had someone to talk to though. Someone objective and intelligent, someone impartial. Someone who would talk to her about books and potions. Someone who didn’t want to talk about the fucking war.
Someone on her side.
She decided she would put energy into finding such a person when she got back to Hogwarts. Even if she had to bribe a first year into studying with her in the library.
On the seventh day waiting for McGonagall’s reply, Hermione was strolling back towards the Burrow having decided to leave the village early as it looked like rain. After a week of silence she felt suitably numb to her pain but at the same time, she was restless and nervous and somewhat eager for something to happen.
She was dwelling on this thought when she noticed that as she was approaching the house, Ginny walked through of the back door and came out to meet her.
Hermione watched as the other woman came to a standstill, crossed her arms and waited for her to draw near.
“Hi.” said Hermione wearily.
Ginny nodded stiffly. “Hi Hermione.”
For a moment, Ginny seemed disinclined to say anything more which made Hermione feel uneasy. “What’s wrong? Is Harry ok?”
“No. But that’s not really your concern. I wanted to ask you a question.”
Hermione sighed, not at all surprised by Ginny’s brisk manner. She understood. Ginny needed someone to blame, someone to get angry at, and Hermione was an easy target. She had made herself a convenient enemy when she had silently refused to apologise for upsetting Harry that day in the kitchen.
She nodded and gestured for Ginny to go in.
“Why are you still here?”
Hermione shifted uncomfortably. Ginny most likely knew the answer to this question and Hermione found it difficult to understand why she was asking it. “Because I have nowhere else to go.”
Ginny scoffed. “Bullshit, Hermione. Why don’t you go to Australia and get your parents?”
Hermione resisted the temptation to roll her eyes. “Well for one, term starts in a week and two, you know I can’t do that. I don’t want to bring them back to England. If you could spare your parents from experiencing all of this, you would leave them out of it too.”
Ginny threw her hands in the air, frustrated. “Well it can’t be any better staying here! We all know you’re leaving so why don’t you just go? Just... Just tell me what your plans are Hermione! How much longer are you going to be here?”
Hermione appreciated the logical approach, even if it was through a veil of anger.
“I wrote to McGonagall about a week ago and asked if she could help me out. She should reply soon and I’ll be out of your hair. If she doesn’t have a solution, I’ll go to the Leaky Cauldron or something.” she paused. “I’m here too, Ginny. Harry’s my best friend, you think I like seeing him like this? And Ron...”
Hermione swallowed hard. She didn’t want to talk to Ginny about Ron. She didn’t want to talk to anyone about Ron.
Ginny’s eyes softened a little. She sighed. “I’m sorry about him. I don’t know what he’s doing.”
“I don’t really think it matters. He’s doing it and that’s that.”
“Have you tried talking to him?”
“Of course I have! He’s not interested.” Hermione’s voice shook. She itched to leave the conversation and go back to the safety of her room.
The other woman nodded and ran a hand through her hair. “Ok. So another day or so?”
“Pretty much.”
Hermione walked past the redhead towards the house.
Ginny called after her. “Hermione?”
Hermione turned around, her fists clenching and unclenching. She didn’t want to talk anymore.
“When you go... You’ll let me know where you are? Just in case?”
Hermione nodded stiffly and walked through the back door. She made a beeline for her room and collapsed onto her bed, throwing her hands up over her face, waiting for the tears to come. But they didn’t. All she could do was stare at the ceiling, her mind moving sluggishly from one painful thought to the next. Rain begun to rattle on the roof, bringing with it the sort of gloom that only a grey sky could bring and pushing her further into her thoughts. After what seemed like minutes but must have been hours as the sky was dark and the moon was peeking through the clouds, an old and very grumpy looking barn owl tapped sullenly on the window of her room.
Hermione leapt off the bed and yanked the window open, letting the owl step in, ruffling its feathers. Her hands shook as she detached the letter from the barn owl’s proffered leg and lit the lantern by her bed with her wand.
She carefully broke the wax seal of the rather thick envelope as she sat down on the floor, her impatience almost getting the better of her. She squinted in the candlelight and devoured the letters contents.
Miss Granger,
I am glad to hear of your acceptance of my offer and equally disappointed that Mr Potter and Mr Weasley would not be joining you. Unfortunately many of your classmates have thus far rejected this opportunity but there are others who, like yourself, have chosen to participate.
I was also surprised at your desire to leave the Burrow but I have done as you requested and I am able to offer you two possible alternatives.
The first is the possibility of your returning to Hogwarts as a resident again. I was surprised by the lack of enthusiasm around my offer and have thus discovered that the school could accommodate any extra students that wish to return. I would be happy to make such arrangements for you.
As to the other alternative, I have found that Mr Flourish of Flourish and Blotts bookshop is renting a small flat above his shop in Diagon Alley. I have been in correspondence with him and he seems to be quite taken with the idea of your living there. I assume he remembers you as a child. He has also mentioned that he would be happy for you to work for him on weekends to pay for your room and board.
I have been assured by him that the flat is not in total disrepair. I hope that is of some comfort.
Reply to me promptly and I will make the necessary arrangements.
Regards,
Professor McGonagall
P.s I have included a list of your school books as term begins in a week.
Hermione took a deep, excited breath and immediately took up a fresh sheet of parchment and a quill to scratch a hurried reply.
Professor,
Thank you for enclosing the list of equipment and books I will need, I have been eager to begin my preparations to study.
I also thank you for your offer to re-establish myself at the school but I would prefer to take up Mr Flourish on his offer. I believe I would benefit from the independence these living arrangements will give me.
Please advise me as soon as possible when it would be agreeable for me to move in.
Regards,
Hermione Granger
Hermione attached her reply to the waiting barn owl’s leg and opened the window again. She watched the owl swiftly disappear into the down pour. She turned towards her bedroom door, bracing herself for the reception this news would get from her friends, if she could pluck up the courage to tell them. She began packing up her belongings, knowing as she did that the moment the sun rose the next morning, she would leave for Diagon Alley, even if she did have to stay at the Leaky Cauldron for a few days. She didn’t want another stilted and painful conversation like the one she’d had that day. She knew she had officially worn out her welcome. At least to some of the Burrow’s occupants.
The guilt burned in her chest when she thought of Harry, her best friend, broken and disabled as he was and she almost regretted what she had said and what she was about to do. But the detached and logical part of her mind swiftly reminded her that she had to care for herself, that she needed to ensure her own survival before she worried about his, or she would be entirely useless to him.
She would come back to Harry, to them all, and she would help. And that promise to herself, made as the rain crashed down on the Burrow’s tin roof, was the only thing that could convince her to leave at all.
A/N I just couldn't help myself. As always, read and review.
Morning Snow - Thanks so much! I know it's sort of an unwritten rule to leave time between posting chapters so people review, but as I'm writing them, I just get so excited and can't contain myself!
Jade - I'm glad to know you're feeling it. And don't worry, I'm having far too much fun writing it to stop now. I will continue until the very end. Even if it kills me!
The quote at the beginning of this chapter is from Ani Difranco's song Cradle and All. Her music has served as a huge inspiration for this piece. I own nothing. Thanks Ani!
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