Chapter 6: The Morning After the Ball
Author notes: Another short post. Thanks for the reviews. I read them. I cherish them. You guys blow me away with your support.
Disclaimer: I own nothing.
------------------------------------------------
It was nearly midnight, and the ball was still in full swing. Champagne corks were popping and all the guests had begun singing Christmas carols.
Try as she may, Hermione couldn't celebrate along with the rest of the partygoers. She hadn't seen Harry since their dance and, though she'd never admit it aloud, the excitement of the night had lost much of its color. Restless and slightly hurt by Harry's sudden departure, she managed to steal away unnoticed as Tonks flirted with Lupin and Ron spoke quietly to Luna.
Hermione was jostled about as she made her way through the rowdy crowds. She couldn't help but laugh at her thoroughly soused neighbors who gaily cried out slurred holiday greetings as she passed. Wanting to get away from the riotous cheer of the drawing rooms, she slipped through a pair of French doors leading to the courtyard.
The courtyard was covered with a thin layer of white frost that glittered merrily in the moonlight. The surrounding trees were stripped of their leaves and their branches were black against the shimmering ice on the ground. The night air was cold and crisp as it swept over her skin. She stood next to a stone pillar, staring into the night sky, grateful to have a few moments alone to sort out her feelings about Harry.
Just the thought of him made her stomach twist into knots. She hadn't expected…well, any of it. He'd completely undone her. She was almost glad he'd disappeared; thinking clearly was hard enough without having to stare at his knowing grin and strong hands.
"And just why am I thinking about his hands?" Hermione furiously huffed. "He may be an infuriatingly handsome wizard, but he's an abominably rude dance partner." Hermione repeated this several times, trying to convince herself that any relationship with Harry would be insupportable. They were far too different at heart, and besides, the man drove her crazy at every turn.
She heard the French doors open and close behind her but kept her eyes on the courtyard, lest she catch some mischievous couple sneaking out for a midnight rendezvous. She heard footsteps approach her and felt a familiar hand on her waist. Her heart leapt, and she could see her quickened breaths fog against the starry sky.
"Hermione…"
She felt Harry's warm breath against her neck as he whispered in her ear.
Hermione refused to turn around. She made that mistake last time, and she wasn't going to repeat it.
His lips brushed against her lobe and his hands ran along her sides.
Hermione's eyes fluttered shut as his lips traveled from her ear to her throat and began gently suckling the sensitive skin there. Her back was still to him, and she could feel the hard planes of his chest and arms as he held her tightly. Hermione knew she should push him away. Or slap him. Or both simultaneously. But all thoughts of resisting him vanished as Harry gently traced her cheek with his fingertip. His lips eventually replaced the pad of his finger, and he dotted her jaw with light kisses. She melted against him as he tenderly tasted her.
"Hermione," Harry said in a strangled voice against her cheek.
Hermione made a noise that almost sounded like "yes?"
"Tell me to stop," Harry begged against her flushed skin. He tilted his head down over her shoulder and his lips brushed against the corner of her mouth.
Hermione tried to say "stop" and "Harry" but her willpower was dissolving right along with her vocabulary. All she had to do was turn her head slightly and their lips would meet. Images of him pressing her against the column and wildly plundering her mouth suddenly barraged her mind and she moaned aloud.
"Hermione," Harry repeated. His voice was laced with urgency.
Hermione opened her mouth to speak, but just couldn't find the words.
She closed her eyes as an overwhelming dizziness overtook her. She felt herself sway unsteadily and fall forward. She waited for Harry to catch her, but he didn't. She just kept falling and falling into darkness and didn't know when she would stop…
------------------------
Hermione awoke with a start. She sat up and looked around at her blurry bedroom before groaning and collapsing back against her pillow.
"Thank goodness," she muttered under her breath, grateful it had only been a dream. A horribly confusing, improper, out-of-character dream.
The sun was streaming through her bedroom window, but instead of rising with the new day, she drew the yellow comforter over her head and miserably muttered against her sheets. Annoyed at the noise his mistress was making, Crookshanks twitched his tail and snuggled against his own satin pillow on the floor.
Crookshanks fell asleep fast, but Hermione tossed and turned as the unwelcome memories of the ball came flooding back: After her dance with Harry, Ron received a note from his steward informing him that Harry had retired from the ball early. Ron told Lupin, who told Tonks, who told Luna, who told Hermione, and Hermione's eyes immediately fell to the dance floor, and she wondered what she'd done to offend him.
However much disappointment she felt, Hermione hid it well. She laughed along with her friends and danced perfectly every time she had a partner, but she was more than a little relieved when her aunt announced that it was time to go.
Luna seemed especially despondent at the prospect of leaving. Ron, in turn, planted a kiss on her hand and said he would call on the Grangers very soon. Lavender of course was breathless and a little tipsy at the night's end and very reluctant to leave as well. Only Hermione seemed happy to arrive home. Although the rest of the family stayed awake to giggle and gossip about the evening, Hermione climbed the stairs and crawled into bed without saying goodnight to anyone.
Impatient with her restless mind, she staggered across the sunny room and changed into a day dress. However long she'd slept, she still felt tired. No. She felt worse than tired. She felt numb. She felt an aching dullness in her chest and a vague disappointment she couldn't place.
She spelled her unruly hair into a loose bun and joined her family downstairs for breakfast. She was certain they'd talk of nothing but the ball for the next few weeks, and she braced herself for the endless rehashing of the evening, although she doubted she could feel worse than she already did. But when she entered the morning room, she was greeted with a chorus of cries and moans.
"Oh what do you think?" Aunt Aurora asked shrilly as Hermione took a seat. "The Weasleys are going away!"
Hermione sat up. "What?!"
Luna spoke up, her quiet voice tranquil and even as ever. "They Owled us this morning. They have business in London that they say can't be delayed."
"And Remus will leave with them, I just know it." Aunt Aurora lamented, "Oh, how could this happen? How could this happen to us? How could they do this to me?!"
Hermione ignored her aunt's wailing. "When are they coming back?" Hermione asked Luna.
Luna shrugged but kept her eyes on the table. "They don't expect to come back."
Aunt Aurora gave another cry and buried her face in her hands.
In the midst of her family's panic, Hermione refused to think about how Harry Potter factored into the Weasley's impending departure.
Lavender piped up, "The Weasleys are going away, Remus is going away, the militia is going away. Everyone's leaving!" Lavender moaned as tears rolled down her cheeks. Aunt Aurora joined her, letting out another shrill cry because no Weasleys or Lupins or militia meant no husbands or suitors for anyone.
Although she remained silently staring at her plate on the table, it was Luna who worried Hermione the most. Hermione wrapped an arm around her.
"Did Ron mention anything last night?" Hermione asked.
Luna turned to Hermione and shook her head. "No. He just said he'd come to call on us soon."
Hermione nodded. "Yes, he did. And you know he'll keep his word."
Luna smiled weakly. "Hermione, he didn't give his word."
Oh, Luna. I don't have an answer for that. I don't have an answer for any of this, Hermione miserably thought as she pulled Luna into a hug.
"I'm so sorry," Hermione muttered. Luna wordlessly buried her head against Hermione's shoulder.
For once, all the Granger women had something in common: broken hearts.
----------------