Chapter 2
Hermione doesn’t remember walking to the Floo in the Ministry, or picking up the powder and throwing it down yelling out 32 Wakefield Lane, but by the time the green flames softened around her, she barely made it out of the fireplace before falling to her knees.
She couldn't focus on anything except for the twisting in her chest. It felt like there was a knife in her heart twisting and pulling every nerve and piece of muscle towards the center of her chest. She was sobbing and she felt the tears warm her cheeks and drip onto her hands braced on her knees. There was nothing to focus on except for the pain she felt.
She tried to think back to any clue there could have been to point to him leaving her in the way he did but she couldn’t. He had seemed a bit distant lately but she thought that it was just the struggle he was facing at work. This case was plaguing him and his department. Kids were being stolen out of their homes and the witches and wizards were going mad looking for their children everywhere. It has been one a month, never at the same time of the month and never the same way. It left Ron immensely busy with his research. He stayed late, and went in early, but she thought that was all it was. He still came to their little piece of home together, she couldn’t even remember the last time he spent a night at his house. If he wasn’t falling asleep at his desk, he was coming back to their bed to hold her and be with her. The way that she would wake up to Ron moving the hair off her cheek and giving her small kisses, while pulling her closer to him, gave her no indication of the hate she just felt him spew.
There were so many times that Hermione had woken up in the middle of a nightmare voice hoarse from screaming, sweat covering her body, hands still shaking from fear, and it was Ron laying next to her that calmed her down. She would get up to wash her face, change her clothes, and when she laid back down next to Ron, she would feel comfortable and safe again. She had only let herself wake up Ron with her screaming a few times before figuring out how to cast a silencio on herself, and if her nightmare was bad enough, she would creep out of bed and busy herself in the living room with either a book, or with knitting. Turning a light on always felt too harsh in her nightmare recovery, and she didn’t want to chance waking up Ron, so instead she would charm candles to float in the way they did in Hogwarts. She missed how magical the Great Hall had felt when she first got to school. Of course she still ate there during meal times throughout the week, but it lost the awe she initially felt. She fell in love with magic, and she felt a bit like she was losing some magic with the loss of Ron.
Hermione felt so incredibly alone. She let her eyes focus in on the floorboards, unsure of how much time she spent wallowing there. She hadn’t even dusted the Floo powder off her, and was still kneeling right outside the hearth. As she reached up to wipe the tears off her cheeks, she noticed they were cold, she had to have been on the floor for longer than she thought. Gingerly, she picked herself off the floor. She weakly swiped her hand sending the various candles around the room up to the ceiling before they flickered to life. She walked to the kitchen, feeling like she was watching her body from afar and started preparing a kettle the muggle way.
When she found herself upset, needing comfort, she preferred the manual way of doing things, keeping her hands and mind occupied. She felt at a loss of what she needed to do. There were so many thoughts flying through her mind, like the stupid little planes zipping around the ministry. As she put the kettle on the stove, she decided she needed to make a list.
She walked to where she left her purse in front of the hearth and grabbed a spare bit of parchment she had at the bottom of her bag, and it only took a bit more searching before finding her enchanted self-refilling quill. At the sound of the kettle, she let her mind fill with what she needed to write down. By the time her tea was prepared, a splash of milk and two spoons of sugar, she had four objectives written down.
First things first, Hermione had to get her stuff out of her home. Everything she would need for about a week needed to come with her, she couldn’t bear to be here when Ronald came to pick up what he left here.
Secondly, she had to find all the textbooks she ‘borrowed’ from the library. She knew that Pince knew she had the books, but she wasn’t sure if she knew just how far from Hogwarts they had ventured. She was trying to find a way to increase the effects of Pepperup because it wasn’t enough for her anymore, but she was scared of the repercussions if Mrs. Irma Pince knew exactly where her coveted books had found residence.
Third, once at school, she needed to brew more potion. The last time she checked, she only had three left, and she knew she would run out by the time she was able to finish brewing more, she just had been so busy lately with her new students.
Fourth, final, and even underlined, she needed a second, she just needed a fucking second. She felt a heavy weight on her chest, and every breath felt like she was gulping for air through a straw. She needed to talk to someone, she immediately thought of Ginny, but she knew she would just go to Harry, and she didn’t want him to feel like he had to pick between his two best friends. Her go to person had been Ron for the longest time, and now he was just gone. She hadn’t talked to Luna, or Neville in so long, she didn’t want to suddenly come around again only to talk about her issues. For now she would just settle for taking a moment to herself. Her world had turned upside down so quickly, she needed a minute to right it.
Setting down her empty cup, she decided it was time to get to work. She gripped the edge of her island, closed her eyes, and began to neatly pack her thoughts in her mind. Everything Ron said to her today, every feeling of hurt she felt today, every emotion she experienced, she neatly put it away in a box, put the box on a shelf, and closed the door behind her in her mind. She was new to Occlumency, and it wasn’t long-term yet for her, but right out of the war, she had read about it and thought it would help her cope with what she was feeling. In the moment it worked enough for what she needed. She felt her resolve steeled, and she was prepared to at least get through the rest of today.
Walking to her room, she grabbed her old Hogwarts trunk out from the top shelf of her closet, and threw it on her bed. She used her wand to fill it with robes for teaching, some muggle clothes for her down-time, her comfy plaid pjs because she remembered how cold her teaching apartment was, some slippers to accompany them, and simple pair of everyday heels. The dress she put on when she was preparing to spend the day around Hogwarts, felt suffocating and she quickly bit out an incantation to rip the zipper down her back. Walking out of the dress she didn’t stop as she summoned a pair of jeans, a simple t-shirt and a pair of socks. After getting dressed, she yanked on her beat up pair of trainers, and grabbed her dads sweatshirt, unable to leave it while she was locked up in a cold tower.
She threw the trunk on to her couch in the living before grabbing a grocery bag and transfiguring it to a small duffle bag. She waved her wand in a circle around her head and summoned every bit of Ron she could think of in her home and funneled it into the bag. When the shirts and trinkets stopped moving around, and the zipper closed, it felt final. She couldn’t let herself focus on what she was feeling without the shelves she put up in her Occlumency room tumbling down. There was no reach for a pen to write a note, there was nothing she could think to say, and she felt enough of her emotions today.
Double checking around her living room to make sure she pulled all her textbooks off the bookshelves around the fireplace, and grabbed any books she was thinking about distracting herself with, they flew into the trunk floating behind her. Taking a final look around her home, she decided she had everything she needed. Her apartment at school was decently stocked with little things she used daily, and if she needed anything from the kitchen, one of the house-elves, who were well-paid thanks to recent House-Elf Reforms, would be able to send it up to her room. Confident that she had what she needed for the next week or so, Hermione moved Ron’s bag of things onto the table in front of the fireplace so he could see it when he got there. Then, bag in hand, she stepped into the Floo, cast finite incantatem sending the candles back to their places around the room, and without another look, she grabbed powder out of the small pot hanging up, threw it down, and let the green flames engulf her with a gust of warmth.
—
Her professor’s accommodation was very simple. Offered to every professor, it is little more than a sitting room with a kitchen and bedroom attached. It was mostly brick and wood, it felt comfy enough, but she never made the effort to make it her home as she had always loved her Yorkshire cottage, and never wanted to spend too long away from it. But, the apartment was good for long nights spent grading in her office or brewing she shouldn’t depart far from. Now, it was a good break from the emotions that were attached to her home. Pulling her wand out of her pocket with an undetectable extension charm, she sent her trunk to her room to wait for her on her bed. Determined on another cup of tea, she walked to the kitchen intent on setting up the kettle. She found a bundle of letters waiting for her on her counter. She appreciated the house elf that collected the letters sent to her, and put them on her counter bound with a pretty red bow. She leafed through them quickly and put aside the mail that looked like it was from her supporters, just unable to sit down and read them.
But when she saw the familiar two envelopes addressed simply to H. Granger, with no return address, and the shining silver wax seal emblazoned with a crescent moon, she paused. Holding them in her hand for a moment, she debated if she should open it before huffing out a breath, rolling her eyes, and ripping through the seal on the first. Unfolding the rough piece of parchment, she read,
I know you’re reading these mudblood, you can’t ignore me forever. The only reason you’re not mine yet is because I decided it’s not the right time. But make no mistake pet, you will be mine, and then you won’t be able to ignore me any longer.
xx
She threw the letter down onto the counter, picking up the second,
I haven’t forgotten about you pet, don’t worry, your time alone is drawing to a close. I can’t wait until we’re reunited, the right time is approaching, and the tease of having you be mine so close is unbearable. Making me want to throw away everything I’ve been working for, but my reward would be too sweet. It’s almost time, my pet, then you can’t deny me any longer.
xx
The letters were thrown down with an exasperated sigh. Whoever kept sending her letters like this obviously had issues. It was disgusting to think someone thought of her like this, and she had been worried in the beginning, was scared even, but these letters have been consistent for just about 2 months, and nothing happened. The person sending them was clearly disturbed, but the letters have only ever come to the apartment, never her home, which was extensively warded, so she spent her time there and didn’t think about them. She didn’t love that he seemed to be on some sort of timeline that she was unaware of, but she figured she would just monitor the letters, and pay more attention to her surroundings.
Abandoning the tea making, Hermione felt tiredness settle into her bones. She kicked off her trainers, sent her trunk to the floor, and wrapped herself in the quilt she had on her bed. As she snuggled into the cozy blanket, she remembered her mum proudly gifting it to her on her first holiday break from Hogwarts.
It was a beautiful collage of deep reds and golds with two hearts in the middle. She could so clearly remember her mom saying, “Red and gold to match your house pride, but two hearts to remind you of the pride supporting you from home” she closed her eyes and remembered the soft smile on her mum’s face, and her dad sitting by their Christmas tree trying to coax a kitten Crookshanks out from within the branches, “We are so proud of you, our little Mi, the witch. You are so special to us, with or without your magic, you were always the most magical gift your father and I ever received. We love you so”. She was scooped up into a hug, and she could still see her dad walking over with a grumpy and meowing Crooks before joining in on the hug. It was that thought that she drifted off to, wrapped up in the warmth of a hug from the two people, and one kitty, she missed the most.
—
Hermione couldn’t catch her breath. She was running, she knew she was being chased, she could hear them right behind her, but she couldn’t stop. Couldn’t even look back, she knew that the wasted second would be all it took to get caught. The forest was rushing by her as she felt hexes zipping by her head. She felt the heat of them on her ears as they passed by her. Her legs were burning with use, and her lungs felt like they were on fire, but her attacker was getting closer, she could hear his disgusting laugh behind her.
She begged her body to move faster as she heard Harry yelling out her name. Distracted looking at him, she felt an incarcerous tighten around her legs, sending her face first into the forest floor. Her head started throbbing immediately and the sharp pain of something cutting her cheek stole the air from her already gasping lungs.
She was disoriented when she felt someone grab her now-bound hands and flip her onto her back. She tried hard to focus on the face in front of her, trying to pick out someone she knew, anyone, but the intense throbbing in her head clouded her vision, making it impossible to focus.
The face leaned in closer to her, she could feel the heat of his breath on her face as she started breathing faster in an attempt to scramble away. She could make out a smile spreading across his face, and it only set her heart racing in fear, “Now, now, little pet, mustn’t run away from me just yet”, she could feel him dragging something sharp down her cheek that felt like the edge of a jagged nail, “it’s not nice to play hard to get”, she was screaming. He responded to her screams with laughing, a cruel and terrible laugh that only made her scream louder.
It was her scream that woke her up.
She jolted up in her bed gasping for air, and immediately jumped out of the bed, feeling like if she remained lying down, she would be transported back to that horrible nightmare yet again. Seconds after her feet hit the floor she heard a furious knocking on her door. It made her jump out of her skin, and she allowed herself two seconds to collect herself before answering the door.
Whoever was damn-near knocking down her door was insistent, starting to yell at her to open up. She didn’t recognize the voice, but when she swung open the door, and Theodore Nott was standing there, hand up, about to knock again looking immensely frazzled, she remembered him very clearly from his days with her at Hogwarts. Though they never really interacted outside of class, she remembered the quiet Slytherin boy from their shared time in Herbology together, remembering how he handled the Mandrake so quickly and efficiently. The boy she remembered clicked into place with the one she knew now as the new Herbology professor, one that was currently very concerned looking, and at her door. “Hermione, are you okay?” he breathed out, looking every bit out of breath that she felt. “I heard screaming, was that you? Are you okay?”. He was frantically looking around her room past her to see what was causing her to scream the way she did.
“Theo, hi, yes, yes, fine, I’m fine” she was breathing like she was still running in the forest, her head swimming, and feeling unable to focus.
“Hermione you don’t look great, I think you should sit down, let me help you”. She just now registered his hands grasping her elbows in an attempt to steady her. She was breathing so fast, yet she was convinced her lungs had no air, she was sure she was hyperventilating but at that moment in time there was nothing she could do to fix it. Her vision was black around the edges and creeping in further to the center. “-sit you down, and wait right there I'm going to look for a potion”. The feeling of sitting down felt delayed from the action of physically sitting on the couch and she vaguely registered pointing to the kitchen where she kept a store of potions.
There was a commotion in the kitchen and she realized Theo must’ve opened the wrong cupboard and was now flinging the rest of them open looking for the correct one. She heard him walking back towards her while saying, “Stay awake Hermione, you need to take this potion”. She heard the phial being uncorked, felt the glass on her lips and the cool liquid hit her tongue along with a bitter taste, the last thing she heard before passing out was tapping on glass, like an owl coming to deliver a letter. With a final thought, she hoped it was from Ron.