The Bitter Aftertaste
Not even the soothing voice of Stevie Nicks’ could drown out the sound of another Kleenex being plucked from its box and another sob stifled. Hermoine sat on her couch, criss crossed, hugging her beloved fur ball Crookshanks (who would like it formally noted that he had resisted this forced snuggle) while wiping her nose. Her current sob session was brought on by a triple threat of getting her period, receiving another job rejection and the final straw was seeing a social media post of her ex-boyfriend announcing his engagement to his co-worker he cheated on her with.
Wandlessly, she turned the sound on her laptop up to have the current song blast even louder. Hoping that listening to Silver Springs by Fleetwood Mac (the Live 1997 version, there is a distinctive difference) would help the aching in her heart
Tell myself you never loved me… Hermoine hummed along. As Crookshanks scampered out of her arms, seeking refuge somewhere quieter in the house, Hermoine chastised herself for the dramatics of trying to relate to some of these lyrics. Ron Weasley had loved her——he had to have. You can’t be together for five years and friends for years before that and had the traumatic bonding experience that came with Lord Voldemort without love being present even if now can be best described in past tense.
After the high of surviving the war, her and Ron's inevitability finally came to fruition in the midst of the post-war celebrations. No more running, no more hiding, their side had truly won. But even the relief of survival had its tolls. There were many nights where Hermoine woke with a start, unable to believe they weren't still on the run. Having Ron there to soothe each other’s nightmares and reminders that they were alive, well and together was a balm to it all. As they both faced grief from losing loved ones, Ron from losing his brother and her from permanently losing her parents due to the irreversible nature of her memory spell, they had an unbreakable bond and united approach to healing after the war.
Hermoine convinced both Harry and Ron to come back for eighth year despite job offers flowing in from nearly every ministry department, begging for a piece of the Golden Trio as rebuilding efforts went underway. The three agreed though, that after spending time on the run in lieu of school, they had well-earned time to act their age for once.
It was there that Hermoine took note of her hierarchy in the Golden Trio. In every group project, Harry and Ron would prefer to partner with each other, with the excuse ‘to not hold Hermoine back’ from her over-achieving academic nature. Or if projects expanded beyond pairs, the two felt it was a ‘free pass’ to allow Hermoine to do the bulk of the work. While their intentions were harmless, the implication was clear, they came first to each other, with Hermoine lower on the ladder of preferred company. Ron was happy to tumble into bed together or have days out at Hogsmeade, he never forgot a birthday or holiday but Hermoine was simply not his best friend. At the time, this didn’t bother her. She had Ginny, Neville or Luna or her newly befriended Slytherins, Pansy or Blaise.
Inter-house unity, as promoted by McGonagal, came much easier in the wake of the war. The Slytherins that came back for a makeup eighth year, were few and far between, with Pansy and Blaise both eager to put their past beliefs and mistakes behind them. They were the only Slytherins their year with the addition of Theodore Nott. With an odd number of Slytherins and Golden Trio members, the six of them found the perfect number for pairs and group projects which bled to board game nights, drinks in their dorms and Sunday Roasts at the Leaky Cauldron.
Upon graduation, their newfound group went amicably their separate ways. Pansy had scored a coveted internship at Madam Malkin’s new Paris store. Blaise had inherited his mom’s Italian estate where he was hoping to create a go-to destination for the best Italian wine. Theo was taking a year off to travel and volunteer, in an effort to find some self-forgiveness and mental peace post-war. Harry and Ron accepted their previous request to join the Auror department while Hermoine took a predictable role in the department of Magical Creatures.
While the full six of them had yet to be together in the four years since their graduation, there was always a mini-reunion whenever someone was in town. Hermoine and Ron had moved in together not long after and were happy to host whenever one of the Slytherins needed a temporary place to stay on a quick visit.
Harry and Ginny finally found their footing in their relationship, with the youngest Weasley now working with George at Weasleys' Wizard Wheezes. So smitten after finally admitting their feelings for each other that Harry popped the question a year or so after dating. Their flat was in the same building but a different floor in muggle London. With all the fanfare of being part of the war, the two couples found refuge in the anonymity of the quiet borough of Putney, while also remaining close to one another.
They had fallen into a predictable routine, Sundays at the Burrow, pub quiz on Wednesdays, double date nights and Girls’ nights with Ginny when the boys were out or playing with their department’s Quidditch League. This was soothing to Hermoine’s love for planning. There was a balance between being out in the world and isolating in their little bubble just the two of them. She especially appreciated both Weasleys embracing the muggle world as their home base, with many nights where her and Harry could not stop giggling as they tried to explain the intricacies of something as mundane as the washing machine.
As the months bled on and couples settled into their new homes and new jobs, the boys were quickly finding their way up the ladder in the auror department. Both were assigned increasingly riveting and dangerous missions as the last Death Eaters were rounded up, a mission Ron and Harry were driven and passionate about to succeed. Longer hours in the office were necessary and it became increasingly normal for Hermoine to wake up to Ron snoring softly next to her, sometimes still in his auror robes, with no idea what hour he had finally made it back home.
Hermoine didn’t feel neglected though, as date nights became increasingly canceled. There was always more for her to do at work where she continued to get stonewalled at every turn in her efforts to get rights to expand for various magical creatures. Ginny was happy to have Hermoine’s help wedding planning, where they were organizing a small, press-free gathering at the Burrow. Hermoine was also proud to see both Ron and Harry so diligent about their jobs, after years of watching them take their schoolwork less seriously. It was admirable to see a new work ethic from them that was doing such good for the wizarding world.
She was even more proud when Harry and Ron excitedly announced they would no longer be partners and getting new ones in each other’s stead. It was a joyous rather than sad milestone as after three years of working side by side, they were both up for promotions and wanted to root for instead of compete with one another. While Harry transitioned to more special ops missions, Ron would be working more with training new recruits. Oliver Wood was Harry’s new partner, a full circle moment as the man who taught him Quidditch was now training him in special ops. Ron’s new partner was Lavender Brown, which despite their history, Hermoine told anyone who asked that she did not worry one bit. In her run-ins with Lavender post-war, she had been nothing but kind and gracious towards Hermoine.
And even if Hermoine were to privately worry, perhaps just a little bit, her doubts were quickly assured when not a lick of perfume, lipstick or mention of Lavender outside of work anecdotes lingered from Ron. Plus, he now wasn’t away on weekends and was home in time for dinner. A fair trade-off, Hermoine surmised, to tolerate his partner being an ex-fling from their Hogwarts days.
The cracks that Hermoine could now see clearly were not so obvious in the moment. Ron was really enjoying the department’s Quidditch league, which wasn’t new, and wanted to take more time working out to be a better player and overall auror. This resulted in waking up earlier to use the department’s gym and sometimes a post-dinner run. Nothing crazy, Hermoine didn’t mind that he wanted to take better care of himself. Then he mentioned how Lavender had suggested he take up some yoga to help stretch his muscles after such strenuous exercises, and would she care to join him at the new studio on Diagon Alley? They’re partners, working out together isn’t new, Hermoine reasoned. No further red flags accompanied these new habits so why would she dig any deeper? Rita Skeeter was dying for their engagement announcement and Molly Weasely was not subtle either, Hermoine assumed it was only a matter of time before they got engaged.
Speaking of engagement, Harry and Ginny’s wedding was also swiftly approaching. The two had gone for a longer engagement and were finally prepping to tie the knot. Since Hermoine had had a large hand in planning the event with Ginny, she was talking a lot about the details leading up to the big day. Where Ron could usually be counted on for lively chatter and interest in his sister and best mate, two people he really cherished, she was met with stilted answers and stuttered words. When pressed why this was making him uncomfortable, he would shrug it off and tell her work had been a lot or his mind just wasn’t focused on the wedding. No matter, Hermoine thought, he just needed to show up in his tux as Best Man that day. Weddings aren’t always of interest to men, Hermoine reasoned. Nothing to worry about.
With Ginny living in the muggle world and exposure to movies like The Hangover, she was inspired to have her Bachelorette all the way in Las Vegas. There Hermoine was reunited with Pansy who had moved to Italy to work on her own fashion line, Luna Lovegood, who was researching in South America so seeing her was a fresh sight, along with the Patil twins who worked at a rival newspaper to The Daily Prophet. Amongst the slot machines of the Cosmopolitan Hotel, Ginny casually mentioned that Lavender had been invited, but had turned the offer down for a weekend away with her new romantic interest. Hermoine felt a wave of relief, knowing Lavender off the market could squash any lingering doubts she had about Ron. She was too embarrassed to mention her small fears to Ginny, but eagerly called for another round of shots as she suddenly felt a little extra celebratory.
Upon her return home, Hermoine was excitedly anxious to get home and was even more surprised to see a fully cleaned flat from top to bottom. Even the pillows on their bed were arranged just the way she liked them. When Ron returned from work they even went out to the Boathouse pub along the river to recount every hilarious detail of her Las Vegas trip. She mentioned Lavender not joining because of a new romantic interest and where she expected the rumor to be confirmed, Ron instead scoffed about not inquiring about his co-workers personal lives and having no clue if that was the case or not. Hermoine rolled her eyes at his lack of interest in the topic and resumed regaling him with brother-appropriate tales of her stateside adventures. She felt an excited buzz under her skin from a weekend of girlhood, plus the wedding was less than a week away!
The day of Harry and Ginny’s nuptials, Ron had been running late from work to the rehearsal dinner. He met Hermoine at home where he quickly threw things into a workout bag before they flooed to the Burrow where they would stay for the weekend. Quickly darting to shower before they were due to dinner, Ron dropped his bag on his childhood bed and assured her he would be out in five minutes. Hermoine who was already dressed and ready, pulled out her current read to wait him out. Out of the corner of her eye she caught a red bag tucked into the side pocket of Ron’s bag. While Hermoine was not known for her expensive taste, she’d recognize the gold Cartier logo on their deep red bags anywhere. She internally giggled at the thought of getting engaged this weekend, all the wedding celebrations had gotten her actually excited to start thinking of her own. Seeing tangible proof that Ron was on the same page was thrilling. Before she could get caught eyeing the bag, Hermoine darted downstairs to wait for him there so as not to arouse suspicion of her discovery.
Ron plodded down the stairs a few minutes after, smelling like his familiar mint soap and attempting to tie the bow tie of his tux at the same time. Hermoine reached out to help him fiddle with it, but he shrugged her off and assured her he could do it.
“This isn’t my first time wearing a muggle tux, Mione,” he joked with a quick wink her way. After getting the bow sorted and straightening his tux out, he grabbed her hand as they walked outside to join the rest of the group.
The next day, as Ginny walked down the aisle, Hermoine felt an overwhelming surge of happiness. She had never seen Harry look happier and Ginny looked positively radiant. With so many years of uncertainty in their youth, it was inspiring to see these two about to make a life-long commitment to one another. As Ginny reached the end of the aisle and grabbed Harry’s hand, Hermoine glanced over at Ron who she was surprised to see wasn’t looking at the couple at all but seemingly scanning the crowd. Hermoine’s heart panged for him, sometimes she saw that same look in his eye when he was looking for Fred before he remembered he was no longer alive. She refocused on the vows Harry and Ginny were repeating to one another, hoping that next time the four of them were together like this, it would be her and Ron saying these same vows.
Tears glistened nearly everyone’s cheeks as the final “I Dos” were exchanged before Harry grabbed Ginny behind the neck to pull her in for a passionate kiss. Hermoine whooped along with the rest of the crowd as the couple walked back down the aisle, with Ron and Hermoine as Best Man and Woman trailing behind them.
“Can you believe they’re actually married?” Ron leaned over to whisper in her ear as they walked down the aisle and into the reception/cocktail hour area of the tent that was covering the lawn of the burrow. He grabbed two glasses of champagne from a waiter walking by, handing one to Hermoine.
“It’s unreal, I wonder who of our group will be next?” Hermoine responded, as she took a soothing sip of the bubbles, savoring the champagne’s taste. She cheekily winked at Ron, hoping he might reveal any of his intentions, but he simply offered up his glass to clink with hers.
“Cheers to our best friends and my silly sister, tying the knot,” he murmured as their glasses touched.
As guests from the ceremony started filtering in, they got pulled in different directions as Hermoine eagerly fell into conversation with Charlie, who was visiting from the dragon sanctuary he worked at in Romania. Then she got roped into chatting with the Patil twins who were gloating that they would get exclusive access to report on the wedding as friends of the bride. By the time she could politely extricate herself, Ron was nowhere to be found.
She spotted Ginny across the room, talking with what looked to be an enthusiastically-talking Lavender. Hermoine forgot she had been invited, and approached them with a soft smile. She only heard the tail-end of Lavender’s spiel, something about a necklace? As Hermoine approached, Ginny filled in the gaps for her.
“Look at this stunning necklace Lavender got from her secret boyfriend! Isn’t it romantic? He said he wouldn’t be able to spend the wedding weekend with her but wanted her to have a memento from him,” Ginny squealed.
Lavender, who had been animated a minute ago, blushed furiously at Ginny’s oversharing.
“Congrats, Lavender, that’s very thoughtful,” Hermoine smiled, “When will this secret beau be revealed?”
“He still has some personal matters to sort out,” Lavender finally commented, “But in due time, I hope.” she murmured the last part, reaching up to admire the pendant of her rose gold necklace.
It was at that moment Hermoine recognized the circle pendant as none other than a Cartier Love necklace. And while she had missed many, many clues. She was not too oblivious to see what was right in front of her and the audacity of the woman standing there talking about none other than Ron fucking Weasley.
The air shifted in this moment of realization, and kept a firm smile on her face. She took another sip of champagne to buy herself some time, before quietly excusing herself and walking back into the burrow, abandoning the glass in the kitchen which was overrun by waitstaff prepping for the reception dinner, up the stairs and into Ron’s childhood bedroom, not allowing herself to inhale until she heard the soft click of the door firmly closing behind her.
Hermoine took a careful breath as many, many puzzle pieces started sliding into place. The increased time together at the gym, the bed pillows that had likely never been touched as he was away with Lavender all weekend, the jewelry store bag that she had assumed the contents of, the scanning the room during the ceremony, the reasoning, the shrugging, the surmising, the assuring she did to herself. There was no obvious lipstick or perfume or repetitive mentions of Lavender’s name, oh no, they were much too stealthy for that. Where Hermoine should have trusted her gut, she had self-handedly talked herself out of any suspicion at all, leaving her feeling utterly foolish in the truth’s wake.
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You could be my silver springs, my blue green, colors flashing… The final notes of the song sank fully into Hermoine’s brain as she snapped back to reality after her little trip down memory lane.
She looked around the flat she and Ron used to share, noting all the packed boxes taped neatly shut with her blocky handwriting dictating each one’s contents. While Ron had moved out over six months ago, Hermoine was too stubborn to give up their deposit by ending their lease early so she kept the flat on her own. Going through the motions of what once was a content life, only now with a Ron-shaped hole in it. Her initial sadness from earlier this evening moved right on schedule to its next phase: anger. She was familiar with this pattern of emotions as they tended to bubble up in moments of loneliness when she reflected too long on the pathways taken that got her here. Alone.
With a deep inhale, Hermoine pushed herself off the couch and wandered over to the kitchen. The black and white art nouveau kitchen floor tiles used to be her favorite part of the flat when she and Ron first toured it. The cream cabinets and large white sink were surrounded by a gorgeous white marbled counter. Hermoine was not one for splurging but she indulged herself with some of her war reparation funds to add a pop of color to the space with the counter featuring a light blue Smeg toaster and kettle. Now the counter was bare, freshly cleaned, with the sole items not packed being an empty wine glass, cork stopper and red wine bottle with the Zabini Vineyard logo emblazoned on it.
The weight of all her emotions felt heavy on Hermoine’s heart as she gripped the sides of the counter and took another deep breath. She poured her second glass from the red wine bottle, gifted from Blaise two years ago, from his first successful harvest. After giving herself a generous pour, she gave in to her self-pity and with her back to the cupboard, slowly slid to the floor. Not a drop spilled, Hermoine sighed as she forlornly touched the tiles with her hand not holding her glass. What once brought her comfort, now was a painful reminder that these tiles weren’t going to be in her home anymore. With the lease ending and Hermoine struggling to make the full month’s rent on her own, she had to admit that it was time to let go of the flat and move on. Ron certainly had, she thought bitterly.
Attempting to push her negative thoughts about Ron from her brain, Hermoine took another sip of the wine, relishing in the cherry taste of the Sangiovese. She had hoped to save this bottle for a special occasion, but found it soothing in this moment of vulnerability. Twisting around for easier access to the counter, she reached up to grab the bottle. Her thumb brushed over the raised letters showcasing ‘Zabini Estate Rosso’ in elegant script with the Zabini family crest underneath it, a coiled serpent intertwined amongst grape vines. Despite the vineyard really flourishing and many invitations from Blaise, Hermoine had yet to visit. She’d been bothering Ron increasingly so about during the last year of their relationship as they hadn’t found time for a proper holiday together and nothing sounded more romantic than a Tuscan vineyard.
With the mention of Ron back in her brain, Hermoine shook her head to refocus. An idea began forming in her mind, as her thumb continued to go back and forth over the letters of the bottle. The glass illuminated under her kitchen light, and as Hermoine took another big gulp of her Sangiovese, the little inkling that started as a ‘what if’ started turning to a ‘should I…?’. Harvest season was coming up, it was just past mid-July. It would be a great time to visit and see if Blaise needed another set of hands. The more Hermoine thought about it, the more the idea appealed to her. Getting out of London, shutting off her phone and getting away from the newspapers, her ex, and everything that reminded her of her former life with Ron? Was beginning to feel a bit like a no-brainer. Blaise had sent numerous owls asking her to visit and especially post-breakup telling her his door was always open. How seriously did he mean it, Hermoine wondered? Well, she was about to find out.
Reaching up to set the glass and bottle on the counter, Hermoine pulled herself back up to standing. Feeling emboldened with the hope of some sort of direction amongst the mess that was currently her life, Hermoine finished off the last of her wine before grabbing her wand. Rinsing and drying out the glass, plus recycling the bottle, she put the wine glass with its counterparts in its designated box. A quick wave of her wand had all the boxes shrunk and tucked inside her beaded bag, her not-totally-legal extension charm allowed for everything to fit neatly inside. Another flick had all the furniture, her laptop plus lone Kleenex box tetris-ed carefully placed inside her bag before tying it back up.
After coaxing Crookshanks into his carrier, Hermoine took one last look around her former home. While the evening had started as one of self-pity on the last night in her flat, Hermoine felt slightly rejuvenated at the thought of a new adventure.
“I don’t know what’s ahead for us Crookshanks,” Hermoine murmured to the front of the carrier, “But I know it’s time for something new.”
With one more look back, she approached her fireplace with a handful of floo powder.
“Ministry of Magic!” she called out as she stepped through the fireplace and the chapter of Hermoine’s life in Putney snapped firmly shut.
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The perks of being a war heroine who people couldn’t seem to hide their pitying looks from was that when she asked for a favor, it was quickly granted. Hermoine got her portkey sorted, remembered to send a quick last owl to Ginny and Harry letting them know not to worry and where she was headed, before she touched a broken tea cup that would take her to the Zabini estate.
The sharp crack of apparition announced Hermoine’s arrival a few hours later. It was 8pm but the sun was just starting to set, leaving Hermoine with a rich view of rolling hills to her left and the looming centuries-old grounds on her right. Before walking up the cobblestone path lined with Cypress trees, Hermoine took another deep inhale. Only some short hours ago, she was a sniveling mess on her couch. As the air filled her lungs, Hermoine couldn’t help but think that for the first time in a long while, she noticed the absence of the bitterness she’d carried with her for the last year. It wasn’t that she had forgotten the emotions of hurt and vulnerability she’d felt earlier, rather they felt significantly dulled by the beauty around her and the promise of something new. The taste of disappointment, the bitterness of betrayal, no longer lingered on the back of her tongue.
And with the bitter aftertaste of all that she survived through this last year slightly soothed, Hermoine started down the walkway to whatever life awaited her next.