1 Disclaimer: Don't own anything, not making any money, no infringement
intended. I just love these characters too much to leave them alone.
1.1 Rating: R for language
Summary: Hermione finds comfort from an unexpected source after Ron breaks
up with her. Takes place 7th year, two months before the Trio graduate
from Hogwarts. Warning: This fic is not complimentary to Ron (or Parvati).
by Auror Borealis
Hermione gazed at the canopy of stars that stretched from horizon to
horizon, the dots of light dancing and blurry through the tears which
refused to cease filling her eyes. She leaned back against the wall that
rose behind the highest row of seats in Hogwarts' Quidditch stadium, hardly
able to believe that it was over.
Hermione had great respect for rules, and she never broke them unless
she really had no choice. Tonight, however, she hadn't even hesitated
before taking a school broom and disappearing into the darkness. She had
flown for over an hour, circling the school, the forest, and the lake
aimlessly before seeking refuge in the bleachers. She didn't care if she
was given detention, and she cared even less if her self-indulgence cost
Gryffindor house points. Nothing mattered, because Ron didn't love her.
He had the decency to break the news to her privately, at least.
Knowing Ron as she did, she wouldn't have been too surprised had he
announced the split in the Great Hall at dinner, to prevent her from making
a scene. Even as she thought this, she knew it to be unfair – he wouldn't
really do that – but she was feeling far from charitable with her ex-
boyfriend. Ex-boyfriend. The tears welled up afresh. Would it never
stop? she wondered miserably. She'd been crying for what seemed like
hours. Her eyes burned, her head ached, and her throat felt raw and
He had asked her to take a walk with him, after dinner. They walked
along the lake for a while, and when Hermione tried to take his hand, he
gently pulled it away. Even after they sat down on the grassy shore,
crickets chirping in the early April twilight, he remained silent. She
knew something was bothering him, but she expected something relating to
Quidditch, classes, anything but this.
He had stood and paced a few moments, then dropped to his knees
"I don't know how to say this," he said.
"Well, just say it, then," she said with more asperity than she'd
intended. She was growing tired of this uncomfortable silence.
Ron took a deep breath. "Hermione, I'm really sorry…"
Hermione knew suddenly what he was going to say. In that moment,
awareness came from out of nowhere, making sense of his distant behavior
not only that evening, but as it had been growing these last weeks.
Please, Ron, don't say it, she pleaded silently. Say anything else, but
He took her hand. "You're a really great person, Hermione."
The kiss of death. What would he say next, 'we'll still be friends'?
"I hope we can always be good friends."
Bastard. What lovely euphemisms for 'I don't love you anymore, if I
ever did, and there's someone else I'd rather be with'. She knew with the
same certainty she'd experienced a moment ago that there was someone else.
I'll kill her, whoever it is, she thought.
"You're breaking up with me, aren't you?" The tears had already
started. Her fleeting hope that she would leave this relationship with her
pride, if not her heart, intact, dissolved.
"Please believe me, Herm, I never meant to hurt you. Oh, god,
Hermione, please don't cry!" He tried to pull her into his arms.
Hermione scrambled to her feet, avoiding his touch. "Who is it?" she
demanded, looking down at him, the tears scalding her face.
Ron looked out over the lake. "Who is what?"
"Don't lie to me. Don't even think about it. You're terrible at it.
Who is she, and how long has it been going on?"
Ron sighed. "Please believe me, Hermione, I really didn't mean for
it to happen."
"You bastard, WHO IS SHE?"
Ron flinched. Hermione wasn't much for swearing, so when she did it
packed an extra emotional punch.
Hermione swayed where she stood, and Ron stepped forward, ready to
catch her if she fainted. She took a wobbly step backwards.
"Don't touch me!" she screamed at him. "Parvati is my friend, you
asshole! How could you do this to me?" Hermione couldn't help herself;
she dealt him a resounding slap across his face. He raised his hand to his
face, stunned, as she turned and bolted across the grass towards the
castle. He started after her, yelling her name, but she turned and
withdrew her wand from the sleeve of her robe, and pointed it at him.
"One more step, you bloody bastard, and I'll levitate you to the
middle of the lake and let you drop. Don't think for a moment that I
won't," she added, as he took a hesitant step forward. She turned again
and ran, not looking back. She ran blindly, wanting desperately to find
somewhere to lick her wounds. She couldn't go up to Gryffindor, not now.
Maybe not ever. That BITCH! she screamed silently. That fucking, no good
slut. She didn't know what she was going to do, only that the idea of
sharing a dormitory with Parvati was now hell on earth. She ran for the
broomshed and took an old Cleansweep, still hearing Ron call her name as
she kicked off and fled, airborne, into the night.
Hours later, Hermione reluctantly left her aerie and returned the
Cleansweep to the broomshed. Her steps dragged as she walked into the
castle, wondering where she would sleep that night. Nothing short of a
direct order from Professor McGonagall would make her return to her own bed
tonight, not if it meant having to face her former friend, and perhaps her
former boyfriend in the common room. She had asked herself over and over
again how the other girl could have betrayed her friendship like this, but
came up with no answers. She began to toy with the idea of taking the
train from Hogsmeade to King's Cross in the morning, but dismissed it right
away. She had only two months to go until graduation, and she couldn't
throw away seven years of schooling because her boyfriend was a two-timing
She walked through the silent corridors, expecting to see either
Filch or Mrs. Norris at any moment, but for once, neither was in evidence.
Some time after midnight, she turned her steps towards the dungeons,
thinking to find sanctuary in a deserted classroom down there. She had to
sleep somewhere, and not only did the dungeons fit her mood better than
anywhere else in the castle, but they were also the place she was least
likely to be sought, should anyone go looking for her. She hated knowing
that Harry and Ginny were both worried about her, but she just couldn't go
back up there. Not now.
She was startled by the light that flickered to life through the open
door of the Potions classroom as she passed it, and a surprised yelp
escaped her. She moved away as quickly as she could, but the light wavered
and grew brighter. In seconds, Professor Severus Snape stood in the
doorway, his wand lighting the gloom. His face seemed especially harsh in
the glow that emanated from it as his eyes sought the source of the sound.
Hermione knew that there was no chance that he would not see her, so she
stopped where she was, awaiting her fate.
"Ah, Miss Granger. Lovely night for a stroll in the dungeons, is it
not? I would think that seven years of classes in these precincts would
have removed the fascination with what must seem an exotic location to a
Gryffindor, but I must confess myself mistaken." He stood aside from the
door and, with a mocking bow, gestured to her to precede him inside.
Moving numbly, she did so, and watched as he swept past her, seating
himself at his desk. She moved to stand in front of it, not speaking.
"Look at me," Snape demanded. She lifted her chin and gazed at him.
The ravages of the evening were still very much in evidence on
Hermione's face. Snape felt a pang of sympathy for such distress, but did
not allow it to show.
"You will explain yourself, Miss Granger." His voice was hard.
Hermione didn't think she could speak without starting to cry again,
but when she tried it, she found that she had cried herself out for the
time being. Her mind reached for some plausible explanation for her
presence here tonight, but there was none. And she found that she still
didn't care about detention, or house points, or anything. Screw Ron, and
Gryffindor with him, she thought.
"My boyfriend broke up with me this evening, sir. He dumped me for –
for a girl in my dormitory." It turned out the tears hadn't gone after
all. "I can't go back up there, sir. Not tonight." She gasped at the
force of the sobs that began to wrack her all over again. This final
indignity, bawling her eyes out in front of Professor Snape, was something
she would not soon forgive Ron for.
Snape regarded her for long moments, his face giving her no clue as
to his thoughts. He was mentally cursing himself for having been curious
about the noise outside his door, a noise he would not have heard had he
tried harder to sleep, and not gone for a late night perusal of his
classroom stores instead. Now here he was, confronted with a sobbing
Hermione Granger, and there was really only one thing to do with the girl.
He sighed inaudibly and got to his feet, his long black dressing gown
swirling around his slippered feet as he motioned for her to follow him.
Tears tracking down her face, she obeyed.
End of Part 1