AN: This is more of a transition chapter, from
Hermione finally making a decision and then acting upon it later. Thanks everyone for the reviews and oh my, I replied
to them all if you reviewed in Ch.3, so yes...have a look in the review page if you're bored =P Okay, I won't
bother you any longer so here's Ch.4.
Disclaimer: Harry Potter and its characters belong to JKR
Something just isn't right
I can feel it inside
The truth isn't far behind me
You can't deny
When I turn the lights out
Reality overcomes me
I'm living a lie.
--Together, Avril Lavigne
Stubborn and confused as I was, I did not leave with Ginny the very next day nor the day after that. Instead, I busied
myself with Urban Fusion's upcoming July issue and tried to live life as if I had never been interrupted by a said
red-headed witch.
"Um, Hope?"
"What?" I asked automatically as Penny bit her lip.
"Your pancakes," she nodded towards me and I quickly glanced downwards.
"Drat!" I scowled and wrinkled up my nose at the smell of burnt pancakes. I nervously fumbled with the bowl of pancake mix while Penny just stared. I didn't want to seem so distraught over nothing but my mind was simply not cooperating. Simple things like flipping pancakes and making coffee had suddenly become complicated tasks that I had to focus hard on.
"Here, let me do it," Penny insisted and grabbed the bowl out of my hands. "You've got something on your mind and I'm itching to know what's making Mistress Pancake-maker so befuddled," said Penny in an awfully dramatic voice.
I blinked and threw off my pink checkered apron, giving Penny a frustrated look as I did so. "Nothing is on my mind. It's just...work related stress--"
"Work has never been such a huge stress issue for you," Penny cut in as she messily flipped a pancake, splitting it almost in two. "I know you and you can handle six Andrea Greens."
I gaped at her. "No, I can't! One's enough! Oooh, just thinking about that woman makes me shudder."
"Right, right...well be thankful you're off today," Penny reminded. "And if I were you, I'd definitely be sleeping in."
I didn't want to tell her that sleep had been absent in my schedule for the past couple of days, so I merely nodded, taking a quick sip of my hot cocoa. Mind you, it was a summer morning and a blazing hot one at that, but my senses were unscrewing themselves and I couldn't seem to control them anymore. It didn't matter if the sun was scorching and the sky was cloudless. Hot cocoa calmed my jittering insides. Slightly.
"Oh, and who's Ginny W...Weasel?"
I spat a mouthful of cocoa back into the mug. "How do you know her? And it's Weasley."
"I don't," came Penny's short reply and she pulled out a scrap of paper from her jeans. "You left this in your jacket pocket when I was just about to dunk it into the washing machine."
I took the piece of paper quickly from Penny's fingers. It had Ginny's name and the hotel and room number she was staying in. She had given it to me before our parting three days ago. I still could not find the courage to call her, nor a reason to do so. And so here I was, sipping hot coca.
"So, who is she?" Penny asked curiously as she placed a stack of pancakes before me.
"Business...magazine related...wanted to see if she could get a job at Urban," I stuttered and focused on the nice, bumpy and slightly burnt surface of Penny's pancakes. I thought they looked quite similar to the pancakes I had burnt just a few minutes ago, but I left my thoughts unspoken.
Surprisingly Penny nodded and skipped off towards the television with her plate of breakfast. I sighed, stabbing a fork into my stack while pouring an overdose of maple syrup on them. I could almost here the little pancake particles wailing as they drowned in gooey sugary goodness...
"It's for you Hope!"
I snapped out of my odd reverie and caught the phone that Penny had tossed over. I frowned at her disapprovingly. "Didn't I tell you not to chuck the phone around? You do remember the next broken phone is on your bill, not mine."
Penny made a face and returned her attention back to her reality TV show. I didn't have to remind her that our phones had a sad past (and the dented wall in Penny's room) since she would always throw the phone at the poor wall when her boyfriend of the month had decided to call it quits. Shaking my head, I mumbled a quick hello into the telephone expecting Andrea's high-pitched shrieks because I didn't put the stack of articles submitted to her in alphabetical order.
"Oh thank Merlin this thing worked correctly! You don't know how long I stood by the phone booth watching these Muggles press these little number buttons," Ginny's voice came from the other end with relief evident in her voice.
"Ginny," I stated, suppressing the shock in my tone and making sure my brain understood who it was on the other end of the line." What do you want?" The words had slipped out of my mouth before I realized how rude it sounded. Then again, my brain wasn't really in the state to string words together more pleasantly.
"Wow, woke up on the wrong side of bed didn't you?" Ginny managed with a faint yet forced laugh. "I just wanted to see if you've decided yet."
"Decided what?" I asked, playing dumb.
I could almost see Ginny rolling her big, blue eyes. "If you'll come back or not..." she trailed off hesitantly, as if afraid I would blow up on her.
"I...I don't think so," I managed through short breaths.
"Hermione...please? For--"
"Don't you dare say 'for Harry'. What makes you think I'll want to go back for Harry? Why would I go back for Harry? I rather go back for...for Malfoy than him!" I nearly spat. "It makes no difference does it? All of you think I deserve to die and be kissed by Dementors. Oh look! Harry and Malfoy have something in common! They both want me dead! Bet he'll blanche when he realizes that."
Silence. I had to stop the bitter venom that was lingering on my tongue before I spat out all my pent up anger and bitterness towards my so called friends. And to Ginny alone.
"Then...then don't think of coming back for anyone. Just do it. For yourself only," came Ginny's voice timidly.
I was confused for a brief moment before my brow furrowed. "And why would I want to anyway?"
"Because you know how much you long for home Hermione. Don't lie to yourself and make up this fake persona of...Hope right? You're just lying to yourself, trying to be a plain Muggle when you know you're so much more--"
"Hope is very much real, thank you," I interrupted with annoyance. "This life is real. This person that I am is real. Hermione wasn't. Hermione--"
"Is who you are, damn it! You can't change that! You're a marvelous and talented witch and you shouldn't give up everything you've worked for just because you think everyone's turned their backs on you."
"I don't think that, I know that."
"But you're wrong! I believe in you. I know you're innocent. I know Ron, Luna...Neville and especially Harry are all dieing to believe in you. They just need something to remind them that Hermione was their friend, not some bloody coldhearted murderer."
"A reminder? So I should just pop by and grin at them and hope they won't Avada Kedavra me on the spot, hmmm? Great plan Gin!"
Ginny sighed in exasperation. "The Hermione I knew wouldn't leave things like this. She would come back and set things straight. She would figure out a way to prove her innocence and gain back what's rightfully hers; freedom and her home. The wizarding world. Mr. and Mrs. Granger...they miss you by the way..."
I felt my hand shake and I realized I was losing it again. Breaking down and sobbing like an idiot.
"Hermione," she stressed, "tell me your decision at noon today. I'll be waiting at Spring Fortune, that little Chinese restaurant near Main."
Click. The dial tone buzzed in my ear and I quickly jabbed the off button on the cordless phone. I felt myself blinking rapidly and felt a pair of eyes staring at me. Penny was giving me her 'curious' look again.
"So who's this...For Harry?"
In fourth grade I was titled the "tattletale"
girl. It was a Tuesday and we were having a spelling test on chapter nine. I didn't have a shadow of a doubt that
I'd past with a smacking one hundred percent.
"Persistence," Mrs. Tah repeated
slowly.
I quickly jotted down p-e-r-s-i-s-t-e-n-c-e. I looked up expectantly at Mrs. Tah's neat and
wavy hair, suddenly wondering how wonderful it would be to have such tidy hair. It would be much easier to take care of
then a bush of hair like mine.
"Justice."
J-u-s-t-i-c-e. My pencil squeaked under my
persistence to jot down the word as fast as humanly possible. I smiled in silent triumph as twenty-four other kids
scraped their pencils on their paper, trailing after me. I didn't know why I always did I have a yearn to learn and
be at the top of all my classes. Did it give me satisfaction to know that I knew every answer on page 236? Yes, it did
actually. It made me feel smart and all knowing. It was a nice feeling really.
"Honesty."
H-o-n...my eyes slowly turned towards my right and low
and behold...Teresa was cheating. She was occasionally looking at the underside of her big, fat, white eraser and
glancing at Mrs. Tah with fear and panic visible in her young eyes. Something inside of me flared and flickered, my
grip tightening on my pencil.
This wasn't right. I spent a good two hours reviewing "justice"
and "honesty" over and over again and here she was, copying off her eraser with no effort whatsoever and
leaving her brain to simply process the letters on her eraser instead of actually memorizing the darn words. Was this
fair for those that actually tried to remember these words by heart? A big bold N-O flashed brightly in my young mind
and instantly my hand shot straight up into the air.
"Yes Hermione?"
I turned to
look at Teresa who had her eraser squashed underneath her palm. "Teresa's cheating," I reported
calmly.
The class turned to stare at Teresa and her neat braids. She turned tomato red instantly as she
narrowed her beady eyes at me before shaking her head frantically at Mrs. Tah. At lunch, I was dubbed
"tattletale" girl and ended up with sand down my blouse and in my shoes due to "tattletale"-haters.
There were quite a lot of them on the school grounds and I wasn't really popular that day, not that I was in any
other day of the week.
The next day, we had a science quiz on planets. Teresa had a slip of paper that she was
sitting on (I had seen her place it sneakily on her seat after coming in from break) and her legs were slightly parted.
She was glancing now and then at the paper hidden from sight, and also turning to glance at me to shoot glares at
me.
That day, I remained silent and there was no sand up my blouse or in my shoes.
And here I
was, all twenty-one years of me hopping out of a cab and heading towards Spring Fortune.
As I
stepped through the doors, I did not know the answer to Ginny's question yet. I had hours to think about my
decision, but here I was without an answer and reflecting on fourth grade. How productive, a little voice in my head
sneered.
"Should I tell?" A little girl's voice rang clearly from a nearby table as she
gripped two Barbies (one was dressed like a hooker and the other in some sort of gymnastics outfit with molded in
underwear which was quite visible for the girl was holding it upside down) in her chubby little
hands.
Should I go back?
"If I don't, it's not fair," the girl
was shaking the gymnastics Barbie.
Not fair...to myself. To Hermione...and what she
would've wanted.
"If I do...it's gonna be hard because Molly's my friend." Up and down
bobbed hooker-looking Barbie's head.
If I go back...it's going to be one hell of a
ride. Emotionally- and mentally.
"Hermione! Over here!"
I looked up
to see Ginny waving a frantic hand. As I approached, still slightly dazed, I could tell she was anxious to know my
decision. Her face was paler than usual and when she reached for her iced lemonade her hand shook. I never noticed how
much of a contrast her pale skin was too her fiery red hair until now. It reminded me of how Ron looked every time he
went stalk pale when he spotted a certain eight-legged creature.
When I sat down, my gaze never leaving
Ginny Weasley's, I suddenly realized I knew. So sure, so strongly, the answer shone before my
eyes.
"Persistence..."
"Pardon?" Ginny was looking frantic, giving
me a worried glance.
Oddly, I titled my blonde head and smiled. "I'm coming. Back, I mean. As in,
I'll go with--"
I was cut short when Ginny had hopped out of her seat and bear hugged me over the
table, knocking over her lemonade and my empty glass in the process. The waiter nearby frowned and scuttled underneath
our table to mop up the mess, but Ginny didn't seem to notice.
"Oh Hermione! I'm so glad...I
don't know what I would've done if you refused," she let go slowly and I could see tears shining in her
eyes. "How? What--" she fumbled with her words and finished with a wobbly, sheepish grin.
I ordered a
glass of ice water and another lemonade for Ginny before replying, "Actually, a little girl helped me out of this
dilemma."
"Really?" Ginny looked dumbfounded. "So a little girl could persuade you
to come back but I couldn't?"
I laughed and nodded. "I suppose so. I guess I
just want what should be mine. You were right, shouldn't I fight for my rights? I want the wizarding world to know
that I'm not whom they say I am. I want my innocence. I've been silent for too long...it's time to take a
harder path in life and do something about the mess I'm in."
Ginny nodded at my every pause for breath.
I was mildly surprised I even remembered how to breath. I wasn't really sure whether Ginny understood me or not,
but I really didn't care as adrenaline suddenly pumped through me and my eyes flashed with sudden
determination.
"It feels kind of like fourth year, when Rita Skeeter said all those horrid things
about...us," I chose a rather vague word but I knew Ginny understood. "I was so determined to prove her
wrong...anyway, I'm not doing this for anybody," the smile slipped off my face. "Truthfully, I don't
think I can forgive you all. But that doesn't mean I won't go for the life I should be able to lead. I
didn't do anything wrong and I will not let my name be written down in books next to the words 'Death
Eater'," I lowered my voice when the waiter, who handed me my ice water and Ginny her lemonade, shot me a
strange look.
"I've run for four years...and I'm getting tired," I finished softly
and wrapped my fingers around the cool glass of water, my fingers instantly feeling nice and soothed from the summer
heat.
Ginny was smiling. "I guess I'd be asking for too much if I told you to forgive us...but
this is a start. Guess you'll stop taking that weird Appearance Alteration potion?" She eyed my hair and eyes
thoughtfully.
Yes, I had been taking a potion for the past years to keep up the appearance I had at
the present moment. It worked like the Polyjuice Potion (but you only had to take it once every six hours), except
slightly more complicated to brew as you weren't taking on somebody else's appearance, but creating one
entirely from scratch. During my experimenting stages, I had ended up with a nose that was almost the exact replica of
Snape's, but after a few more tries things were a bit more pleasant to look at in the mirror.
"No,
not yet. It wouldn't be really smart to walk around Diagon Alley as Hermione Granger when I'm still a
'murderer'," I answered and fixed my eyes on Ginny. "Now that I've answered your questions, I
think you should answer mine."
"Sure. Shoot."
I leaned
over slightly, careful not to let me long hair dip into my glass of water. "How do you know that I'm innocent?
What makes you so sure?" My gaze was hard. I wanted to know. I wanted to know why Ginny Weasley had no flicker of
doubt in her eyes every time she stated my innocence.
She opened her mouth and shut it, and opened it again.
She was wringing her napkin in her pale hands before she finally took a breath to spill...
"Ginny! "
Both of us flinched at the exact same time for some unknown reason. I
didn't know Ginny had a friend in New York, and yet it didn't look like she was happy to see this overseas
friend as her expression was one of distress. I followed her gaze and I knew I must've died.
I was in
hell, that was where I was. Where else could fate be so cruel and horrid? I tried in vain to tear my gaze away but I
couldn't. I couldn't look away from all six foot two of him, or his still ever so unruly mane of raven hair and
those intense green orbs behind silver-framed glasses. And of course, the infamous scar peeked out from beneath strands
of raven hair dropping before his eyes...and I felt the deepest desire to run. Not away. But to him. Into his arms and he would sweep me off
my feet and spin me around, telling me everything had been a long, long nightmare and he was here to wake me up. For
good.
But he was striding towards the table, his gaze never turning to me but only towards Ginny. I
couldn't read the expression on his face...and it was then that I realized he looked paler, skinnier, almost like
the little boy I had met on the train when we were only eleven years old. Lost, confused, unloved. My thoughts were
dancing, my gaze swimming. How was he? The look in his eyes...so blank. I wanted to see the shine in his eyes...but he
deserved to look so...so dead. He had turned away from me. He had left me when I needed him the
most.
And suddenly my gaze darkened, but he, nor Ginny, noticed.
"...H..Harry! What are you doing here?" Ginny gasped and stood up from her seat
stiffly.
"I was just about to ask you the same thing."
Oh, that
voice. That voice that once swore to never leave my side, to never hurt me, to always cherish me...that voice. So
blank, so emotionless, and I shuddered. That voice...his tone now, sounded very much like his voice that night. That night when he had stared at me
with the most horrid expression I had ever seen, and said two words. Get her. Unknown to myself, my fists were balled
up and I was quite as pale as Ginny.
But of course they didn't notice. They were too
preoccupied with gaping at each other.
"I'm here for Order business," came
Harry's short reply as he ran a hand through his messy hair. I never felt my throat constrict as it did now, and I
nearly gasped for breath. "Lestrange was reported to have been last seen in New York...she's been running
around free long enough. Besides, we all know who she works closely with."
Ginny paled
even more, if that was possible. "Maybe we're wrong Harry. She'd never work alongside with Sirius'
killer--"
"Oh yes she would," Harry muttered darkly. "You-know-who loves playing
these types of games, doesn't she?"
Their words made no sense whatsoever. Lestrange...were
they talking about Bellatrix? And you-know-who...but wasn't Voldemort defeated? And since when was Voldemort
referred to as female? I was definitely hearing things.
Ginny clasped her hands together and plastered a feeble
smile on her face as she waved a hand towards me. I stiffened instantly at her actions and wished the ground would part
and swallow me whole. "This is Hope. I came to New York to visit her."
For a brief
moment, a brief fantasy, I thought he would turn his eyes towards me and something would just click . He'd see through these clear eyes and
sleek blonde hair and see who I was within and he would...would do something that would only happen in fairytales. Of
course, he simply glanced at me and nodded in acknowledgement, not a hint of a smile on those lips. Lips. I felt like I
was choking on air.
I found myself standing up mechanically, sticking out a hand, yet I couldn't bring
my eyes to linger on his. "Nice...to meet you," and all the while a little voice in my head screamed "He
hates you! He hates you!" and I mentally screamed back "I hate him! I hate him too!"
His hand,
even if it was just a brief moment, was in mine as we shook hands.
It was then that I think my fantasy came
true for one, little millisecond as a noisy truck passed by the little Chinese restaurant we were in. The little girl
with her Barbies was screaming for some unknown reason while her mother told her to shush up and eat her pudding. It
was also then that he gave me one strange look, his emerald eyes narrowed in
slight...I-didn't-know-what-it-was...and he let go abruptly.
"Harry. Harry Potter. Nice to meet
you."
AN: This
isn't the real, big, boom confrontation between Harry and Hermione, obviously, since Hermione isn't even being
'herself' at the moment. I guess you can call this a little teaser because honestly, Harry would probably end
up in the story by Ch.8 or something and I knew we couldn't wait until then, right? Anyhoo, I personally dislike
this chapter the most out of all my chapters. I really don't know why. It just sends me bad vibes
=S