Jealousy, Jealousy
Hermione jumped as the daily prophet slammed down onto the table in front of her, sending her scrambled eggs flying off the plate and onto the floor.
“Well?” Ginny asked with an eyebrow raised as she pointed to the page, tossing a length of fiery red hair over her shoulder.
She glanced down at the newspaper and snorted “who wrote this rubbish?” she asked, squinting down at the little name by the article “oh Rita…you’ve outdone yourself.”
“So it’s not true then?” Ron asked, pointedly avoiding her gaze as he pushed his sausages around his plate.
Hermione rolled her eyes “do you know me at all Ronald? Of course it’s not.”
To her left Harry gave an exhale of relief and she sighed, flinging the paper to the other side of the table and standing up abruptly to brush crumbs off of her lap “for merlin's sake! No, Draco Malfoy and I are not having a secret affair! And if we were - which we never would be - I promise that you would bloody well know about it first!”
With that outburst she stormed from the table, slamming the kitchen door shut behind her for good measure. Hermione knew that her friends were only looking out for her but she couldn’t help but be frustrated with them. She thought that they of all people would know better than to believe silly rumours peddled by the prophet. It was the same newspaper after all that had claimed that Hermione was two-timing Harry and Victor Krum and that Harry was just a fame-obsessed nutter with a scar.
She brushed an agitated hand through her unruly curls as she watched a garden gnome creep across the yard. If only the prophet hadn’t got that bloody photo of her and Draco…she was only on his broomstick because she hated flying and what good would it be if they missed their portkey because she fell off her broom and plummeted to her death? She didn’t know there were reporters that far out into the countryside, she wondered vaguely if they were having her followed. It was all such a mess and Hermione let out a strangled laugh as she thought about how bizarre it was that she almost wished for her school days. Sure Voldemort had been at large and the outcome of the war had been unknown and distant but she’d managed to keep herself fairly grounded by focusing most of her worrying on her grades at least…
The sound of the back door opening interrupted her thoughts and Hermione groaned “im fine Harry” she knew it was because he cared but she was getting rather agitated with Harry coming to check on her all the time.
There was the sound of a throat clearing behind her and an awkward “erm - er not Harry…sorry.”
She turned sharply to see Ron standing by the backdoor with his hands in his pockets and his head hung low. Her mouth opened to speak but she couldn’t quite think of the words to say.
“Hi ‘Mione” he said eventually, breaking the silence and despite the initial awkwardness a genuine warm smile pulled at the corners of her lips at the familiarity of it all.
“Hey Ron”
In a few quick strides he was beside her on the porch and he wasted no time in flinging himself on the ground, long gangly legs pulled up to his knees as he gazed out at his childhood yard. Hermione perched beside him, her head tilted to one side and resting on her palm as she stared at the old tire swing, hanging by a thread of rope.
“It’s been a while hasn’t it?” he turned towards her “since it was just us two.”
Hermione nodded. She couldn’t remember the last time that she had been in a room alone with Ron. Harry and Ginny seemed to think they needed constant supervision since their ‘breakup’ (if you could really call it that they’d barely dated after all) as if they were children who would burst into a tantrum at any moment. Hermione thought it was all a little bit silly, she and Ron were adults they could handle a little bit of awkwardness.
“I miss you” he told her and then his face turned a blotchy red colour the same shade as his hair as he stuttered “wait! Not like that, I know that didn’t work out, I-I just meant-“
She reached out and grabbed his hand, “Ron” she chuckled “I know what you mean…I miss you too.”
He exhaled in relief, laughing a little as he ran a hand through his bright hair “don’t tell Harry but…you’re my best friend ‘Mione and - and I don’t want the fact that we tried something and it didn’t work out to come between that.”
She felt a rush of warmth towards Ron then. They were two very different people and they always had been. She used to think that made them perfect for one another, opposites attract and all but Hermione knew better now. She loved Ron but they would have never been happy together long term. They fought too much over silly things, had different opinions and wants for the future. Once upon a time she’d thought he was her soulmate but now she thought that perhaps the love she had for him was more familial than romantic and she was glad that he felt the same way.
She thought of her parents and thought that perhaps romantic love wasn’t some great tale of adversity and opposites, of fire and flames. Perhaps love was warm and soft, leaving a light on when you know the shadows bring fear, a tepid cup of tea, a book by the fire, the gentle squeeze of a hand. One day she would find that but it wouldn’t be with Ron and that was okay.
They sat in silence for a while, watching the morning settle in. It was a beautiful kind of day with soft fluffy clouds and a golden warm sun. In another life they would have been on the courtyard of Hogwarts right now, enjoying a day of freedom after final exams. She longed for it.
“What’s going on with Malfoy then?” Ron asked after a while.
Hermione sighed. “I can’t tell you” she admitted “I’m scared you’ll think I’m mad.”
He paled, his freckles standing out even more on the bridge of his long nose “you’re not really going out with him are you?”
She rolled her eyes, “oh Ron” she chucked “no of course I’m bloody not.”
“Good” Ron said firmly, sticking his chin out “because he’s a git and I’d probably have to beat him up…again that is…how many fights have we been in now?”
Hermione snorted “probably less than he deserves. I can’t believe you’d even consider the idea that I’d go out with Malfoy of all people.”
He held his hands up in a surrender position “alright alright I get it. It was stupid to be fair, it’s just…that picture, you’d never come flying with me and I know how much you hate it. And -“ he hesitated, reaching out and nervously plucking a fistful of grass “you’re different now ‘Mione” he said softly “you’ve changed.”
She couldn’t look at his familiar blue eyes so instead she watched a fix pointed ahead where a chicken was pecking at an old bit of grain. “I am different now” she knew it was true, the war had changed her. She’d lost her parents and she’d had to grow up a hell of a lot faster than most people her age. Her fears had gone from homework to genocide and she knew that no matter what she would never be quite the Hermione she was before all of this happened. “I think we all did” she said “changed I mean, even Harry and this has been his whole life for practically forever...I think we’ll keep changing all throughout our lives and - and maybe that’s okay.”
“Yeah…” Ron let go of the grass and blinked profusely and Hermione knew he was thinking of Fred who would never get to change again, who would be twenty years old forever only in memory. She reached out and squeezed his hand and he latched a hold of her fingertips the pressure hard but comforting.
“I need Malfoy’s help with something” she confessed, knowing he needed a subject change.
“What sort of thing?”
“A…personal project.”
The corners of his mouth crooked up in a smile though it was still a little shaky after the emotions of before. “Bloody hell Hermione you’d live in the library if you could wouldn’t you? Don’t you think you should take a break?”
She shook her head “I’d go mad, you know I would, if I didn’t have something to work on…I’ve not changed that much Ron.”
His smile was wider then and he knocked his shoulder into hers “no” he grinned “still our same old crazy Hermione. Why Malfoy though…can’t I help?”
She sighed “it’s not the sort of magic you’d know about, I needed access to something like the Malfoy archives.”
Ron frowned “you’ll be careful won’t you? It’s not dangerous?”
“I’m always careful, you know me I always have a plan.”
“You better because if anything happened to you I’d kill Malfoy whether it was his fault or not and I don’t much fancy Azkaban.”
“The dementors could probably give you a better kiss than your auntie Muriel though…”
“Oh sweet Merlin” he groaned and the tips of his ears turned a scarlet shade of red “I still can’t believe Ginny told you about that.”
“Actually” Hermione corrected him, “it was Harry who told me.”
Ron’s blue eyes blazed as he glanced darkly back at the house “well he won’t be the boy who lived for much longer…”
Hermione’s laughter echoed through the garden and soon Ron was laughing too. A bird was chirping in the distance and Hermione closed her eyes, imagining for a second that they were at Hogwarts.
“Tell me something new with you” she asked him “something good.”
Her eyes were still closed but she could feel his hesitation so she nudged him with her foot “I know there’s something Ronald, spit it out.”
He scratched the back of his head before sheepishly admitting “well…I’ve been talking to Lavender Brown…”
__________
The book about extra uses of and limitations on animagi transformation was interesting but Sirius could barely comprehend a word of it. How could he? Regulus was being exceedingly distracting, laying on the floor with his head propped up against the sofa and playing with a glittering golden snitch.
For a moment Sirius was catapulted back. “James” he laughed “James put that bloody thing away will you? You’re doing my head in.”
James let go of the snitch and let it flutter away a few feet before his hand darted out and snatched it out of the air, fingers curling tightly around it in a fist. He either hadn’t heard Sirius’ words or he didn’t care as he let it go once more, hazel eyes fixated on the tiny ball.
Sirius rolled his eyes and chucked the magazine he was idly flipping through away. His own hand darted out and he yanked the snitch out of the air, tucking it nearly into the pocket of his robes before reaching for his discarded reading material.
James pouted and Sirius rolled his eyes. “All right, c’mon out with it.”
“Out with what?”
“Whatever’s bothering you.”
“Nothings bothering me.”
Sirius raised an eyebrow at him, “so the fact that you’ve been flinging that snitch around in a sulk for an hour and looking over at Evans in the corner like she just kicked your cat is completely coincidental is it?”
James sighed and ran a hand through his perpetually messy hair “I think I love her Sirius but she likes that twat McLaggen.”
He shook his head to clear his thoughts, the memory falling away. He was back in twelve Grimmauld place with his brother, not in the common room with James.
There was the sound of little metal wings retracting and Sirius watched as Regulus’ long nimble fingers closed around the snitch for about the thousandth time, his eyebrows pinched as he let it go once more. The sight was so familiar that it made his chest ache with both grief for James who he missed and love for the fact that he was here with Regulus and got to witness these little moments with him.
“Hey Reg” he called out but Regulus wasn’t listening, his eyes were laser focused on the tiny golden ball, its silver wings glinting in the low light.
With a roll of his eyes and an intense feeling of Deja vu, Sirius reached out and snatched it from the air, stuffing it under the cushion of the sofa so it couldn’t escape.
Regulus turned around sharply and levelled his brother witn a glare that would have terrified many. Sirius just rolled his eyes harder.
“What’s wrong?” He asked him and Regulus’ lips pursed.
“Nothing.”
“Right” Sirius said sarcastically “you’re acting perfectly normally then.”
As children it has always been Sirius who had the restless energy and Regulus who had quietly scolded him. The role reversal obviously stuck out as abnormal to Sirius and he wanted to know what was bothering his brother. He’d always been able to tell when James had been upset and as loath as either of them would have been to admit it they were quite similar people in many ways just as much as they were different in others.
Regulus folded his arms over his chest “yep” he popped the ‘p’ “perfectly normal” and he held out his hand “now give me back my snitch.”
Sirius raised an eyebrow at him “not until you tell me why you’re sulking.”
For a moment Regulus stared at him with an incredulous look on his face and then without missing a beat he reached into his pocket, pulled out another snitch and turned away from him.
Sirius watched with an open jaw before huffing in annoyance “for Merlin’s sake” he muttered under his breath before pulling out his wand “that’s it…reducto”
The snitch burst into a million little pieces and Regulus whipped around like a bolt of lightning, with a look of utter indignation and disbelief.
Sirius though was laughing, and his laughter only increased at the look. The anger melted away as Regulus too began to see the funny side of the ridiculous situation and he began to laugh also.
When his sides finally stopped aching Sirius leant his head against the top of the sofa, looking down at Regulus with a soft expression on his face.
“What’s wrong?” He asked again but Regulus wouldn’t look him in the eye.
“Nothing, I’m going for a smoke” he said eventually and stood up and stomped out of the room. Sirius watched him go with a burning curiosity and waited only a minute until he was on his feet off to investigate.
He hadn’t been in Regulus' room since that night when Hermione and Harry had told him about Regulus' role in the war. It had been suspended in time then, almost exactly as Sirius had remembered it when he was a teenager. Now though Regulus appeared to have made some amendments. Sirius pressed his fingertips against the wall, sucking in a breath as he felt the freshly dried layer of green paint over where the black family crest used to be.
He wandered around the room, picking up trinkets on the desk and putting them back down. It wasn’t like Regulus kept a diary and Sirius felt his frustration growing as he saw no clues as to what was bothering his brother. He just wanted to help him but sometimes it was easy to forget that while it had been twenty years for himself, Regulus was still a teenager.
Sirius flopped down on the bed in frustration. His mind casted back once more to the past. Like Regulus, James didn’t like to tell people what was bothering him when he was upset. Sirius suspected it was because he felt like he should be the life of the party and he didn’t want to bring down everyone else’s mood. With Regulus though Sirius knew it came from a different place. Their parents had always encouraged them to keep any emotional turmoil inside, it was unsightly to appear anything but perfectly composed they’d said. Of course Sirius’ reaction to this had been to wear his heart on his sleeve and make sure every emotion he felt burst from within him. Regulus’ had been different though, he’d gone from the sensitive emotional little boy that Sirius had grown up with to a closed off and stoic teenager.
Sirius sighed and ran a hand through his long black hair. If only Regulus’ problems were as simple as James’ had been, Sirius might have a clue. At least with James, Sirius knew that 99% of the time his mopey mood would lead back to Lily Evans and girl trouble.
There was a crackling noise under his leg and Sirius reached out to see he was sitting on a newspaper, the daily prophet to be exact. It was folded open to the fourth page and Sirius eyebrows darted up to his hairline as he read the headline. “Unlikely lovers? Death eater Malfoy and War hero Granger spotted on romantic broom tryst.”
Sirius' mind raced and hastily he stood up and ran to the window. It was dark outside but he could just see the silhouette of Regulus’ by the gate, the orange tip of his cigarette gleaming in the low light.
He looked back at the newspaper, then at the window. He thought about James and how he always looked when Lily gave any attention to a guy that wasn’t him and then he thought about Regulus playing with the snitch in the parlour. James looked like that when he was jealous, is that what jealousy looked like on Regulus too?
“Surely not” he whispered out loud, the newspaper crumpling loudly as he squeezed it unconsciously “I mean…impossible right?”
There was the faint sound of a key turning in the lock and light footsteps creeping across the hall. Sirius heard the back door open and saw his brother jump and hastily run a hand through his hair combing it back with his fingertips as he glanced towards the figure of Hermione walking out on the patio.
Slowly a smile began to spread across Sirius lips “maybe” he muttered to himself “oh just maybe it is possible.” And he found himself really and sincerely hoping that it was.