Title: A Day in the Life (of a Relationship)
Spoilers: Books 1-7 (Disregarding the Epilogue of DH)
Summary: Set almost two years since Harry defeated Voldemort. The trio had moved on with their lives, with all the good and bad parts. Each chapter is a day in their respective relationships, giving us a slice of how they are coping with grief, happiness, and life.
Author's Note: I know, and rest assured, I am working on In-Between Summer but I can't get this ficlet out of my head. I needed to release some angst, so here it is. Thanks to The_Scribbler for the excellent beta work. This will be a short one, guys.
Author's Note:
Pursuant to the Berne Convention Implementation Act of 1988 and the Digital Millennium Copywrite Act of 1998, this work is copywrited 2007 with all rights expressly reserved by its author unless explicitly granted. No portion may be reproduced in any fashion without the express written and notarized permission of the author.
Disclaimer: I do not own any of the Harry Potter characters. All characters are creations of Joanne K Rowling, © 2007, to whom I am deeply indebted.
CONTENT Disclaimer: This story may contain sexually graphic and explicit material and it is not suitable for minors. If you are a minor, please leave now, as it is illegal for you to be here. If it is illegal for you to read or view sexually explicit material in the community you view such material, please leave now. This story and characters are purely fictional and any resemblance to events or persons (living or dead) is purely coincidental. If you are offended by sexually explicit stories, please read no further. These stories are just that, stories, and may or may not reflect the opinions of the author.
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Chapter 1 - Apologize
"I'm holding on your rope,
Got me ten feet off the ground.
I'm hearin' what you say but I just can't make a sound.
You tell me that you need me
Then you go and cut me down but wait…
You tell me that you're sorry
Didn't think I'd turn around and say…
It's too late to apologize, it's too late.
I said it's too late to apologize, it's too late.
I'd take another chance, take a fall
Take a shot for you
And I need you like a heart needs a beat
But it's nothing new
I loved you with a fire red -
Now it's turning blue, and you say…
"Sorry" like the angel Heaven let me think was you
But I'm afraid…
It's too late to apologize, it's too late.
I said it's too late to apologize, it's too late."
- Apologize, OneRepublic feat. Timbaland
24th May 2005
Hermione opened her eyes to the empty space beside her bed.
She blinked and reached out, confirming the absence of the person who was supposed to sleep beside her. She sighed and sat up in bed, tried to rub the sleep from her eyes and shake the cobwebs out of her brain.
As like most mornings, she got up and made the bed neatly. Still half-awake, she made her way to the kitchen only to stop halfway there.
Sprawled on the couch was her boyfriend of almost two years, snoring as if there was no tomorrow. Her temper rose. Her spine stiffened even more as she picked up the scent of stale cigarettes and alcohol as she passed his prone figure on the couch, walking directly to the kitchen to make breakfast.
Like clockwork, as she was scooping the bacon from the pan, Ron came in the kitchen all bleary eyed and obviously a bit hung over. He made his way to her and wrapped her in his arms from behind. She shrugged him off irritably.
"Sweetie, c'mon. Give me a morning hug." He smiled winningly at her.
"Take your seat and have breakfast. I don't want to be late."
Ron sighed. After getting a cup of coffee, he made his way over to where she had placed his plate.
"I'm sorry, alright? Ollie insisted we were only going to be gone for a pint or two, I swear it."
Hermione inwardly rolled her eyes at the flimsy excuse as she ate. "You could've owled to let me know." She said quietly.
"I know, sweetie, I'm really, really sorry. Did you wait up for me long?"
Hermione looked at him with tired eyes. "I fell asleep around 11. Harry dropped by before he went to meet you at the pub."
He flushed, with guilt or irritation that it was Harry who had told her, she didn't know. And after the restless night she had, she didn't have the energy to find out.
She stood up. Placing the dishes in the sink, she silently made her way back to the main bath to take a shower and prepare for work.
Turning on the shower, she let the hot water wash the sluggishness she was feeling. She was pissed at Ron for not remembering to be with her last night. But she felt so numb, so hollow. She shut her eyes tightly, vainly hoping to feel her anger, disappointment. Anything. She fell to her knees in the shower, her face in her hands. Nothing. Absolutely nothing.
She made her way towards the door solemnly, dressed in her smart navy blue robes with the Chinese collar. On her way out, she spied Ron from the corner of her eye. He was still slumped over his plate, grudgingly pushing the remnants of his breakfast. A stab of affection pinched her heart as she looked at his dejected form.
Ron sensed her behind him and looked up at her with apologetic eyes and her cold demeanor melted a little. She went over to him and placed a kiss on his forehead then drew back to look him.
"Please don't forget about tonight." She said almost inaudibly.
She saw his eyes widen as he remembered the date. He opened his mouth, ready to spew another apology. She shook her head sadly at him.
Ron clamped his mouth shut. "I won't."
She gave him a small smile and then walked over to the apparition point.
"Don't be late. It's at 7."
****************
Hermione was having a bad day. As soon as she appeared in her office, her panicked assistant cornered her and almost tearfully said that the brief for the McNair case they needed at 10am was missing. A thorough search of her office yielded the papers which were mistakenly placed in the bin for the June hearings.
It was already 11:30, and she was furiously finishing scribbling her notes for the Avery hearing scheduled in a couple of weeks. Scattered all over her desks were law books opened at various chapters and subjects. She looked at the wall clock again. 11:45. She needed to get ready for her meeting with her boss and the head of their French office.
After a quick trip to the bathroom, she grabbed her case from her table and went to Michael Turpin's office. Michael finished ten years ahead of her at Hogwarts and was the eldest brother of Lisa Turpin, a Ravenclaw girl from their year. He was Head Boy in his seventh year and proceeded to make a stellar career for himself as the wizard equivalent of a Chief Prosecutor for the Department of Magical Law Enforcement where Hermione was a junior practitioner.
"Hermione" Michael greeted her warmly as she knocked on his open door. "Just in time. We need to disapparate to Muggle London. Pierre is being an arse and insisted we meet him for lunch at the only reputable French restaurant in London. If you ask me, he just wanted to dine swimmingly on the Ministry's expense account."
"Oh, I'm sure it's a bit of both." She smiled at him. "Maybe he just wants to give you a hard time, you were good mates when he worked here right?"
"Unfortunately, yes. And he thinks that gives him the right to take advantage of me since I was promoted a couple of months before him. Two months, come on!" Michael sighed theatrically as he reached for his business robes and adjusted them over his muggle suit on his stocky 6'4" frame. "Ready?"
"As I'll ever be."
They made their way out the office, discussing the McNair case. As they reached the lobby, Hermione heard someone shouting her name. She stopped and turned to see Ron running to catch up with her, holding a bouquet of red roses.
"Hermione! Where were you? I dropped by your office to ask you out to lunch. I feel really bad about last night, I wanted to make it up to you. Your assistant said you were on your way out. Good thing I caught up with you." Ron held the bouquet towards her. "I really am sorry, Herm."
Hermione's mouth opened slightly. She was touched but she didn't know what to say. She took the bouquet from him and tried not to inhale the cloyingly sweet aroma. She looked at Michael apologetically. "Can you give us a minute?" He nodded.
She tugged Ron softly away from Michael and lowered her voice. "I know. But Ron, I told you, I have a really important lunch meeting today. I can't come with you. I'm sorry."
His expression clouded a bit. "Can't you get out? I had to duck Kingsley just to be able to take you out."
Hermione pinched the bridge of her nose. "I can't, Ron. I told you about this meeting ages ago. You've complained about me obsessing about this meeting twice already. Didn't you remember?"
Ron's eyes lit with comprehension. "The French guy! I'm sorry, Hermione, I forgot. Really. I'll see you tonight." He made to turn back.
"Ron," she called him back. He faced her questioningly. She gave him back the bouquet. "I'm sorry, but can you please take this for the meantime? Thank you, it was really sweet. But I can't really carry it to the restaurant, I'm sorry, Ron."
He gave her a forced smile as he took back the roses. "Sure, sweetie, no problem."
Hermione gave a large sigh as she watched him walk away. She turned to Michael and motioned to go.
******************
It was already dusk when she got back to their flat. She felt drained. It had been one of those days at the office when everything that could go wrong went wrong.
"Ron?" She called out, flicking her wand to turn on the lights. "Ron? Are you home?"
Silence greeted her. She made her way to their bedroom and tiredly took off her business robes. She took off the pins from her hair and lightly massaged her head. She looked at the clock. It was already half past six. She needed to be there at 7.
After a quick shower, she chose a simple black sheath dress which fell flowing just above her knees. She put on a dainty sterling silver wristwatch along with a pair of small diamond studs. She applied a bit of make-up and a spritz of perfume. She looked at the clock. 6:55. No Ron. Her jaw clenched.
She strode over to the apparition point and left.
*********
Quiet surrounded her. She took the hand of the man beside her and squeezed. Somber brown eyes met hers.
"I miss her every single day."
Her father's arms went around her. She pulled back her tears as her father's ran down his cheeks.
"I'm so sorry, Dad."
"It wasn't your fault, moppet. You did everything you could." He said to her with a smile, hugging her to him even tighter. "You're still here with me. And your mom's waiting for me. I know she is."
Hermione felt a lump in her throat and just nodded at her father's sad smile. Her eyes read that white stone in front of them for probably the millionth time.
Elizabeth Granger
May 24, 1956 - October 31, 2004
Beloved Wife. Loving Mother.
You will be loved till the end of our days.
***********************
It was the first peaceful moment in her day.
Nicholas Granger changed his mind at the last minute and they cancelled their reservations at the French restaurant where they usually celebrated family occasions. Hermione humored her father's request that they take a walk around London, talking about nothing in particular. He felt lonely nowadays, she could tell and she was glad that she can still have these moments with him. She knew it cheered him up considerably.
They finally chose a hole in the wall Irish pub. It seemed her father was finally starting to accept the changes in his life. It had been a dreadful year and she had tried to support him as best she could.
After a quiet dinner, she took her father home and found herself where they had started the night.
Hermione softly traced the letters on her mother's tombstone as she knelt on the soft grass. Immense guilt clouded her eyes.
"I'm so sorry, Mummy." She said softly.
"It's not your fault. It was theirs. You had no idea they would still go after your parents. If it was anyone's responsibility, it should be mine. I should have known."
Hermione looked up, not surprised to see Harry standing a little off to her side. She sighed.
She looked down at the white marble marker again. "It was neither of our faults, I know that, Harry. Logically, I do." She felt him sit down beside her.
"Logically, we know a lot of things."
She chose not to reply; instead, she let her eyes wander around the deserted cemetery. She desperately wanted to cry.
Harry reached for her hand and gave it a squeeze. She turned her head back at him and saw haunted eyes identical to her own staring back at her.
"I brought you this." His right hand held a single white orchid.
A tear slid down her left cheek, unheeded and unexpected, as she reached for his gift. She gave the petals a soft kiss and gently laid it down her mother's grave.
"Thank you, Harry."
*************************
Hermione tiredly disapparated back to her flat. Ron immediately stood up, he was dressed smartly in a black Muggle suit.
"What happened? I'm sorry I couldn't make it to the cemetery. Kingsley cornered me and made me pay for skiving off at lunch. I barely made it to the restaurant but you didn't show up. Are you alright?"
Her blank eyes met his tired, irritated blue ones. "I'm fine. Dad needed a change, we ended up in an Irish pub. I didn't know how to reach you."
"You still could have tried to owl me." He said, hurt.
"Well, I'm sorry, Ron. How was I supposed to know you remembered?" She snapped. His jaw clenched. She closed her eyes and took a deep breath. "I'm sorry, you didn't deserve that."
Ron went to her and placed his hands comfortingly on her arms. "I really am sorry, Hermione. How are you?"
Hermione avoided his eyes, "I'm fine."
He sighed. "Yeah, you always are." He dropped his arms and turned away from her. "Is it too difficult to at least try to need me, Hermione?"
She kept her eyes on the floor. She felt inconspicuously empty. "I did."
He turned back to her again. His eyes narrowed at her. "What is that supposed to mean?"
Hermione brushed past him and flopped down on the couched tiredly. She rubbed her eyes. "I don't know, Ron. Why don't you tell me?"
His eyes blazed. "I'm trying here, you know."
She dropped her hands from her eyes. "I know."
He knelt down in front of her and cupped her chin, forcing her to look at him. "Tell me. I am here, sweetie. I keep trying and trying. I don't know what else to do. I know I usually bollix things up, but you don't even get mad at me anymore. It's like I don't exist."
She tried to feel anything, she swore. She really did. She looked for the anger, the disappointment. "I don't know the answers, Ron."
Hermione stood up and made her way to the bedroom. At the door, she stopped. She looked at him, still kneeling there dejectedly looking at the spot where she was sitting moments before.
"I really am sorry, Ron. I try, I really do." He looked up at her with hurt eyes. "It just seems like we have to do a lot to make this work."
Ron stood up shakily and went to her, his face ashen. "What are you saying?"
"I'm saying…" She swallowed the lump that formed in her throat. "I'm saying, it's been almost two years and we're still struggling with every step. We can't bicker over everything our whole lives. I know you try, and I do try to understand. It just seems like every time I need you, you're not there." She held up her hand as his mouth opened to refute what she said. "I know. It's usually not your fault. But sometimes, I feel like we just can't make it work. It seemed so great at first, finding out about everything, making up afterwards. But you just don't think things through sometimes. Like last night. Or tonight."
He looked properly chastened. "If you had just remembered, Ron. Kingsley wouldn't have been on your case for skiving off for a lunch date I already told you I wasn't available for." She took his hand and squeezed, looking at him directly.
"I know it's not your fault. That it's actually one of your sweet qualities, how you try to make it up to me. This is who you are, and I loved you for it."
Ron went even more ashen. "Loved? Hermione, what…"
Hermione's eyes teared up. "I really am sorry, Ron. But I'm tired. I don't have the energy to sustain this dynamic anymore. With Mum, and the thing with my dad. All I feel is bone deep exhaustion. Logically, I know it's neither of our faults. Logically, I know I shouldn't always feel so disappointed. Logically, I know I shouldn't pressure you so by expecting too much. Logically, I know I should be more understanding. Logically, I know you have a good heart and you try so much to take care of me. Logically, I know I need you that way too."
She averted her eyes. "Logically, I know a lot of things."
"Hermione, we can still make it work. We've been through this before. I know what you're going through. This is nothing, it will pass." Ron's voice held a touch of panic.
Her eyes blazed with the first touch of anger. "Nothing?! Nothing?!" She spat at him. "Was it nothing when I held you as you cried for Fred? Was it nothing when you couldn't even look at George for three bloody months! Was it nothing when you had nightmares every single night?"
"Hermione, I'm sorry, I didn't mean…"
Hermione pushed him roughly back. "Sorry? I'm so tired of hearing you say sorry! All we do anymore, Ron, is apologize to each other each and every bloody day. I don't want this anymore."
Ron turned a nasty shade of red. "You?! What about me? I'm scared shitless of doing the wrong thing around you. It's like I'm walking on sodding eggshells here all the fucking time! I don't know what to do for you, Hermione. I tried everything I know. But you…you just cut me off! I do everything I can think of to try and help you with this, but you won't let me! And what do I get for all my efforts? A bloody, fucking apology!"
"I saw them fucking kill my mother, Ron, and I wasn't able to do anything to save her! Excuse me if I don't feel like talking about it every minute like you did. We're different people, you and I. I can't act exactly the way you want me to all the time! Sometimes, I think you had this image of me in your mind and how we're supposed to be that I feel so suffocated because I bloody have to change myself every single minute to keep you happy!"
Their harsh breathing cut in the still night air. Ron was glaring at her murderously. He suddenly turned around and kicked the nearest furniture - which happened to be the couch. The fabric tore from the impact of his foot. He let out a scream of frustration, "Aarrgh!" He grabbed the lamp from the side table and threw it the opposite wall, shattering it into irreparable pieces. He breathed heavily but kept his back to her.
Hermione tried to calm herself. She looked at her furious boyfriend. "Ron, look at me, please."
He faced her with such a blank expression, her numb heart cracked a little.
"Tell me you're happy with me, be honest. Tell me that I am everything you thought this relationship would be. Tell me that you don't feel like we're forcing this too much."
Ron lost the vivid shade of his temper. He opened his mouth, his eyes darting everywhere except her face as he sought to deny what she said. "I…" He looked at her.
Hermione didn't know what Ron saw in her eyes. But he said nothing. He looked desperately at her, silently begging her to take back what she said.
She couldn't lie to him.
"I… I need some space. Maybe we need some space. I'm just so tired."
His jaw clenched. "Fine." And he quickly turned his back on her and strode over to the apparition point.
As soon as he disappeared, Hermione fell against the bedroom door and let her weight bring her down the floor. She covered her eyes with her hands.
The tears still did not come.