No Halloween For Hermione by GracieInGreek

Rating: G
Genres: Romance
Relationships: Harry & Hermione
Book: Harry & Hermione, Books 1 - 6
Published: 18/10/2005
Last Updated: 18/10/2005
Status: Completed

(Maybe a bit angsty/humorous...) It's Halloween, the anniversary of when they all became
friends...and Hermione's alone, with only a pumpkin to smile at her. What, pray tell, will
brighten up her night?




1. 'Feels like Halloween
------------------------



**No Halloween for Hermione.**

**By: GracieInGreek**

Hermione sighed. Shifting her chin over her folded hands, she let her back slump forward as she
watched the flame inside the grinning mouth of her pumpkin flicker and cast shadows.

*Stupid pumpkin,* Hermione thought gloomily as the fire settled again. *What's there
to smile about?*

She was tired, and she was unhappy. And she felt guilty and childish for being unhappy--for her
unhappiness was, in her own opinion, a bit childish.

Why? Well...

Because it was Halloween. Her first, in fact, Halloween away from Hogwarts in over six years.
But that wasn't really what upset her...well, actually, that was *part* of what upset her.
But not the most important part.

The most important part was that this was her first Halloween away from her friends.

Heck, not even *away* from. Just...without. They all lived together, technically, as they
hopped from continent to continent on this actually rather spooky mission that could prove to be a
very entertaining scary story sometime in the future.

But they weren't here *tonight,* on Halloween; the Anniversary, Hermione recalled, of
the night they all became friends. And ever since then, no Halloween or any other night of her life
had been *this* uneventful. No Trick-or-Treaters could even reach their hidden house. Usually,
with all that was currently going on and before, she would have been elated to have a night of
peace. But tonight...it didn't feel peaceful. It just felt lonely.

*This doesn't* feel *like Halloween,* Hermione thought. She reached up and lightly
traced the lightning-bolt shaped hole she'd put in the pumpkin's forehead--she'd carved
it in there so's to have some reminisce of her friends tonight. She'd considered poking
some dots in the front for freckles, but she'd decided it really wasn't the correct sort of
face for freckles. Round eyes and a rather angular nose, certainly, but not freckles. He looked
better that way.

*Oh God.* Hermione dropped her arm, her eyes wide. *Now I've gone and started
studying the facial features of a gourd.* Covering her face with her pumpkin-smelling hands, she
sat back in her chair; she sniffed. No, this really wasn't any Halloween at all. Not to her,
anyway.

*I guess I don't get a Halloween this year,* the childish voice in her mind pouted.
*No Halloween for Hermione.*

"Stop that," she muttered, dropping one hand while scrubbing her eyes with the other.
She spoke to either the girl in her head or the grinning Jack 'O Lantern with the round eyes
and angular nose. "I am being silly. Halloween is a time for children, which I am not, or a
time to spend with family, which I cannot, so crying about it will not get me anywhere." Firm
sniff.

...*Oh, sod it,* Hermoine sighed. She allowed her eyes to fill up and leak out at their own
discretion. It wasn't like anyone was there to see her anyway; both of the boys had gone to
Ron's house for the holiday, which was apparently highly celebrated in the Weasley family. Now
that none of the children were in school, it was insisted that all of the relatives turn up. And
that included Ron and Harry.

But it did not, these days, include Hermione.

It was true. Ron and Hermione's break up--which had proceeded two weeks of very
uncomfortable proximity and awkward moments--had proven to be best for both of them. Their
friendship was a bit stronger, and everyone knew where the boundaries were. They were happy with
that.

Those who weren't happy with that, however, were the Weasleys.

Both Harry and Ron had said that they were going to skip the party in protest--that both of them
would have much rather spent the time with her. It would be fun, they said. We can teach Ron how to
manually carve a pumpkin. Hermione actually smiled a bit at that memory; Ron had looked rather
frightened.

It was sweet of them to offer, and Hermione knew that if she had accepted they would both be
home with her at that moment. But, she had been able to tell, Ron really did want to go and visit
his family. It wasn't often the three of them were even in the country, and to be here on this
holiday was actually a very lucky occurrence.

"No," Hermione had said, smiling for them. "I want you two to go. I have research
to finish anyway--it'll be very nice to have some quiet for once, actually."

Neither of them bought it, Hermione knew. But Ron had looked relieved despite himself, so when
Hermione ushered him to the fire place his protests were gallant, but unmotivated.

"You're sure, Hermione? You'll be all right by yourself?"

"Yes, yes, yes." She had replied, feigning annoyance. "Now will you please leave?
I won't have your mother sending me another Howler for detaining you, thanks."

A guilty look had passed over Ron's face, but still he grinned and hopped into the dust and
ash. Green flames erupted around him, and he was off to the Leaky Cauldron, then to the Three
Broomsticks, and then to Luna's using all manor of transportation to somehow arrive at the
Burrow.

Harry had hung back. Hermione turned to him with the same smile in place, still holding the
pouch of Floo Powder open. The look on his face made Hermione's chest feel warm; she could tell
he didn't want to leave her there alone.

Harry stepped closer. "Hermione--"

"You're not going to change my mind, Harry. A girl needs some time to herself, you
know."

Hermione had expected him to chuckle. He didn't.

"It was wrong of them--" by his tone she could tell that by 'them' he meant
'her', and by 'her' he meant Mrs. Weasley, who would no sooner let Hermione in the
house then she would let a gnome live in it. "--not to invite you. I'm sorry."

Hermione, her smile close to cracking, had managed a shrug. "Harry, please don't
apologize for them. And it's perfectly fine, I told you, the Weasley's have every right to
invite or not invite whomever they see fit. It's their house."

"They invited me."

"You're more or less their son, Harry."

Harry had half-smiled, stepping forward again. "Not quite. Ginny and I broke up,
remember?"

Hermione didn't say anything to that. Yes, she did remember, and no, it hadn't gone over
her head that they had indeed invited Harry despite his passed with Ginny.

But she also knew that it wasn't the same situation as with herself and Ron; Harry had
always been closer to the Weasleys and they perhaps even had hopes of re-nudging him in Ginny's
direction tonight. Ron and Hermione had made it very clear to the family why they had broken up
and, bitter as they were, none of them held out any hopes for that particular reconciliation.

And Hermione knew that Harry still did love the Weasley's too. Why wouldn't he--they
were more his family than anybody else, right?

Hermione was about to lose her composure. Stepping out of the way of the fire place again, she
held the bag further out.

"Have a good time, Harry. Happy Halloween."

Harry sighed. Coming forward, he took his fistful of powder and stepped into the fire place.
"Happy Halloween, Hermione."

*******

Hermione woke up with a warm smell wafting through her nose. Blinking hard, she tried to
straighten her back out—she'd fallen asleep after slumping forward again in her chair, her chin
on her hands and her face turned towards her grinning Harry-pumpkin.

Squinting a little, she noticed that her face was indeed *not* faced at only her pumpkin,
for another one had appeared at its side. A face was also carved into its round orange front;
Hermione scanned it blinkingly. This pumpkin had slightly narrow eyes, like two sideways almonds;
it's nose was smaller than the other's, and a bit round as opposed to narrow. Its mouth was
curved and closed and smiling--Hermione finally smiled along with it. Leaning back, her eyes
traveled over the pumpkin's arched eyebrows to where literally hundreds of swiveling curly
Q's started and ran all along the back, framing the face wildly. These swirls were only carved
into the pumpkin's flesh, however, and the eyes were alight with the fire inside.

"Good likeness, huh?"

Hermione turned her stiff neck over her shoulder to the door way of the kitchen, where Harry was
standing. He was holding two of their plastic forks and a pan of pumpkin pie in one hand, and his
wand in the other. Hermione, still surprised, blinked.

"Harry, wha--"

"And yes, before you ask, I did make it myself." Hermione could tell he was trying to
sound proud. She rose her eyebrows.

"...Well, okay, my wand helped a little." Harry came closer to the table wear she and
the two pumpkins were seated and put the pie between them. He sat down.

"...You carved me a pumpkin?"

Harry'd pointed his wand at the kitchen door so two goblets came flying out and landed
neatly in front of them. "You carved me one."

Hermione, staring down at the orange-colored liquid in the goblet, felt her cheeks go pink.

"I did not--"

"But I see you carved yours by hand. You shouldn't leave pumpkin seeds roasting when
you sleep, you know." He held a fork out to her.

Hermione flushed deeper, accepting it without really thinking. She was still confused.

"Harry, what are you doing home? You two weren't supposed to be back until
morning."

He shrugged. "Ron's still there. But I wasn't comfortable at the
Weasley's."

"Why? Ginny?"

He shook his head, plunging his fork into the soft brown crust. "Nah, she was upstairs with
Seamus mostly, I didn't see her much. Don't ask," he added, grinning when
Hermione's eyebrows shot up again.

She took a moment to digest this new piece of information.

"...If not Ginny, then what?"

He shrugged, again--he finally just took the fork out of her hands, carved out some pie, and
handed it back to her; the smell of cinnamon filled her nose.

"I dunno. It was mostly their family, you know, so Ron was always off visiting with a mad
cousin or something."

That made Hermione laugh, a little. She popped the pie into her mouth, and chewed—she felt her
eyes go wide. "*Wow,* Harry, this is really good.” She stared at him. “Did you make
it?"

"Nah, nicked it.” Sip.

"From who?"

"Mrs. Weasley."

Snort.

They both chewed in silence for a few more moments. Then Hermione watched him pick up his
pumpkin juice and take a drink, waiting. Finally, she just pointed at him with her white fork, some
pie falling off the end. "You still haven't told me what made you come home
early."

Swallowing, Harry picked up her fallen piece of pie off of the table and popped that into his
mouth. Then he shook his head. "I didn't like the guest list."

"What?"

Sigh. He set his goblet back down. "I didn't like that they invited Lupin and Tonks,
Seamus and his mother, Neville and his grandmother, Luna and her family--"

Hermione's chest tightened. She shook her head, looking down at her fork as she carved out
another circle of pie. "Harry, don't. They did nothing wrong by inviting the people
they're close to…"

"They didn't invite you."

Hermione gripped her fork; her gaze shifted back over to their grinning pumpkins. She frowned at
them. "They don't feel close to me."

Harry took another bite, his voice resolute. "They should."

Hermione, secretly, had felt that way too, but hadn't said anything. While it hurt her,
she'd kept her mask of understanding.

She pressed her lips together. "The Weasley's just feel that Halloween is a time for
family, Harry--"

"Then they should have known that I'd want to be with you."

Hermione turned her head to look at him fast.

A year ago, he would have half-mumbled this statement as he shuffled his shoes. But tonight, he
sounded confident, and sure, and…honest.

She stared at him, knowing her red cheeks were being brightened by their lanterns.

Hermione opened her mouth to say something, but Harry just pushed a small piece of pie through
her lips before she had the chance. Seeming slightly embarrassed but proud of his own daring, Harry
shrugged in the old sheepish way. "So I came home. Now eat your pie."

Hermione swallowed. "But--"

This time, Harry silenced her with a darting kiss to her mouth. Eyes wide, a vague part of her
was awake enough to be register that he tasted nicely of cinnamon--and the fact that his tongue was
now touching to her lips probably meant that she did too.

*Wow*. They really weren't eleven in Hogwarts anymore. …And the excitement of this
Halloween was quickly elevating above and beyond fighting the troll.

It was only after a few slow minutes of this that Harry finally pulled away, Hermione left dazed
but no longer confused or sad. He stayed hovering a few inches away from her, breathing a bit
labored but looking pleased nonetheless, before leaning forward to her ear. "Happy Halloween,
Hermione," he said.

Hermione leaned her hot cheek against his face, sighing as she tried to re-collect her bearings
and failed miserably. "Happy anniversary," she replied.

She had a slight superstition that Ron wouldn't have understood that statement, in all
honesty. But Harry, on the other hand, had chuckled and nodded and leaned back to kissed her cheek.
"Now. I went through all the trouble of flooing this pie from place to place, and we are going
to finish it." Fork still in his hand, he gouged out a chunk of orange and brown and popped it
into his mouth.

Hermione did the same, grinning stupidly. *Mm. Hermione* does *get a
Halloween**,* *after all.*

She tilted her head at the Harry and Hermione Jack 'O Lanterns still flickering and smiling
wide at her.

Harry tilted his head at her in turn, glancing at the pumpkins and back. "What?"

"Mm? Oh, nothing," Hermione said, turning to fling a small bit of crust sideways at
him. He caught it in his mouth. "I just think I know what they're smiling about."

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