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A Fairy Tale for His Her-my-oh-nee by H_HrFan
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A Fairy Tale for His Her-my-oh-nee

H_HrFan

A/N: I was able to get in one more. This is starting to move a little faster and we are nearly there…a few more chapters, anyway. It's short but I think it says a lot…I hope so anyway!

I hope you enjoy this.

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Finding the First Piece

It felt like forever but Hermione finally made it out of Trelawney's bedroom so she could get to work and think. Her hands were raw from the scrubbing and cleaning she'd been doing all day. Her muscles were sore and her body beat. All day she waited for the doorbell to ring to bring news of the grand ball she knew awaited on the horizon. The bell never rang.

Throughout the day she would pause in her chores to think about Trelawney's question; `Why do so many people see fairy tales the way that you do, only remembering the good and blissfully ignorant of the bad?'

What does that have to do with my getting out of here? She wondered every time she thought of the question. At one point she sat down and began to compose a mental list of all the possibilities counting the reasons on her fingers as she went:

  1. People prefer happy endings

  2. People don't like when bad things happen

  3. The good is so much better to hold on to

  4. It's better to let go of the negativity and maintain a firm grip on the positive

She knew, without really knowing, that none of those reasons were sufficient enough. When she found the right answer she was sure that something wonderful would happen.

A sharp voice cut into her thoughts. "What are you doing down there?" Millicent sneered. "Mother said that when you finish with your chores you are to see her so that we may have you."

"You." Hermione said. She stood up and though Millicent was taller she did her best to look in to her eyes. "What's your purpose?"

"What? What do you mean `what's your purpose?'" She sneered again.

"You know what I mean. What are you really doing here?" Hermione asked.

"Tell me Her-my-oh-nee what exactly is it about me you don't like. I can tell you what I don't like about you in just word but you're not as heartless as you seem to think that I am. Are there specific reasons you don't like me? Not that I care particularly, but maybe it's time you asked yourself what it is that makes you so judgmental. By what standards are we to be judged? Is it simply a matter of like and dislike? Or is there more? I think perhaps you are wasting your time thinking about the wrong things."

"Tell me the word." Hermione said, although she was quite sure she knew the answer.

"Excuse me?" Millicent said.

"Tell me the word. You said you could tell me what you don't like about me in one word. Tell me the word. Confirm for me the reasons why I do not care for you. I want to hear it."

Millicent took a deep, controlling breath. "Okay. I'll tell you the word. I'm quite sure it's the one you are expecting me to say but I have no problem saying it out loud. Everything…I hate everything about you Her-my-oh-nee. Satisfied?" She asked.

"Why?" Hermione asked, curious now as to how she'd been perceived.

"There are too many reasons Her-my-oh-nee; thus the use of the word `everything'. I hate that you are judgmental, but refuse to admit that you are. I hate that you are beautiful, but act as though you're not; only so you can hear your friends tell you that you are. I hate the way you think you know everything and set out to make the rest of us look stupid. Her-my-oh-nee there are too many reasons."

"Those are very poor reasons to hate me. It sounds more like you're jealous. Like hate, jealousy is a negative emotion but they are on completely different levels. Jealousy is often felt by those who wish to have something the other person has. Tell me Millicent, what do I have that you want?" Hermione said.

"Nothing." Millicent said her eyes now cast downward, avoiding Hermione's stare. "There is nothing you have that I want. If you feel that those reasons are not sufficient proof of why I hate you then this is simply a matter of me lacking the verbal ability to substantiate it. It does not in any way negate the feeling."

"Who are you? The Millicent Bullstrode I've known for seven years doesn't speak that way. Substantiate. Negate. What is with you people? This is my hell? To come to a place where people whom I know for a fact are incapable of stringing two words together can suddenly speak clearly and concisely? What? Are you now my competition? I'm no longer the brightest or most clever? Well you know what? You can have that. All I want is my life and I'm quite sure that I am capable of living it without the likes of you, Cho, or Professor Trelawney." Hermione shouted. She looked at Millicent, determined to look her in the eyes before she spoke again.

"Look at me." Hermione said, when she could not catch Millicent's eye. She looked up and Hermione spoke again, "Do you really want to know what it is that I don't like about you?"

"Yes. Tell me, Her-my-oh-nee. I so long to hear your insight into your own psyche." Millicent said, trying hard to keep her voice steady, as her temper too began to rise.

"First of all," Hermione started, "I don't hate you. I want to, but I can't. Perhaps it comes from being friends with Harry for so long, I don't know. But there is not a part of me that hates you, or anyone else for that matter." At Millicent's surprised look she continued, "Don't get me wrong now. There are things that I don't like about you and things about you that…well…scare me, to be quite honest."

"Oh, do tell. My curiosity is piqued." Millicent said sarcastically.

Hermione ignored her and continued, "I don't like that you are mean to people just because you can be. You are bigger then most and you use that size to your advantage…to intimidate those smaller than you. I don't like that you treat people badly just because you know Draco Malfoy and you're in Slytherin House. Being in Slytherin does not give you liberty to treat people poorly. I don't like that you walk around all the time with…"

"Okay." Millicent interrupted. "That's enough, I don't care to hear anymore. Now tell me Her-my-oh-nee, what about me scares you?"

"Honestly?" Hermione asked.

Millicent nodded.

"As a person you don't scare me per se…more like intimidate, but only just a little. It's what I see when I look at you that scares me."

"And what do you see?"

"You are so harsh, so down all the time. When I look at you I see a lonely woman with no one there to comfort her. No one to talk to. No one to care for." She looked up and softly said, "No one to love."

Her face took on a different, slightly confused expression and she said, "That scares me."

Millicent ignored her expression and urged her to continue, "Why? What does it matter what I become?"

Hermione began to understand. "Wait a minute." She said. "That's why you're here, isn't it? You are here for a reason and that's it!" Hermione jumped a little in the air, excited that she may have found at least one answer.

"What do you mean?" Millicent asked.

"One of my biggest fears is being lonely. Now that the war and school are over Harry and Ron won't need me anymore, it scares me to death to think that I'll be alone now. They've been my life for seven years; they are all I know."

"Well done, Hermione. You've gotten one right. Do not forget about the question. That is now your next step."

"But what do I do with that knowledge?" Hermione asked anxiously.

Millicent's image began to fade. Before she disappeared Hermione heard her say, "Let it go, Hermione. Just let it go."

"I'll see you at the Ball." Were the last words Hermione heard as the last of her image faded.

"Thanks, Millicent." Hermione whispered. "I truly hope that you don't end up alone."

Hermione stood there, stunned. She'd been told that they were not there to help her and the very person she thought least likely to do so had practically given her the answer.

"I need to let go of my fear of being alone." She said softly to herself. "But how can I do that when I'm here and I have no idea what awaits me out there?"

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Harry had long since fallen asleep. Something that reading had always done to him. It was a surefire antidote to his general insomnia. Unfortunately, it didn't work quite as well when his insomnia was a result of the nightmares that had plagued him for so long.

He was sitting in his chair with his head lying next to her on the bed; her hand held firmly in his own.

He awoke abruptly when he felt the slightest movement of her fingers. It was the first time he'd witnessed any sign of life from her. He sat up quickly and pulled his hand away so he could see with his eyes what he'd felt with his hand. Her fingers moved again, just the slightest movement. Harry's heart leapt to his throat and he jumped up to whisper to her once again, "I can feel you moving. I can see it. Come back to me Hermione. Come back to us."

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"I'm coming." Hermione whispered.

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