InuYasha Fan Fiction ❯ The Fate of Our Love ❯ Chapter 5

[ X - Adult: No readers under 18. Contains Graphic Adult Themes/Extreme violence. ]

Dancing
Chapter One
By Lady Persephone
 
Disclaimer: I don't own anything
 
Summary: It wasn't easy being Hermione Granger. Work from 8 a.m. to 5:30 p.m. Come home and catch up on some reading from 6 p.m. to 7 p.m. For the rest of the time? She spends every moment in between trying to convince herself that she isn't in love with her best friend. So far? She hasn't had any luck.
 
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She gazed lazily at the pattern raindrops drew on the window beside her. The dull blur of traffic lights cast the water in a strange orange-ish glow. Now they were red. A haggard looking man hurried under the meager shelter offered by the cafe's overhang for a brief moment before braving the weather and dashing out across the street. Green. The previously stationary cars sprung to life, showering unfortunate passerbies with a murky sheet of puddle water. The woman let out a long, lonely sigh. This wasn't the first time he was late. She watched as a young woman with long blonde hair dashed beneath the overhand as the man had done before. She drew her hood over her head and held a small pale hand out for a taxi. Seconds later, a small coupe pulled along the curb and the blonde woman wasted no time in climbing in and disappearing into the steady stream of traffic. And then there was a couple. They strolled hand in hand along the sidewalk as if the rain did not exist. The man turned and smiled at the woman beside him. She pulled him towards her by the front of his jacket and pressed her lips against his. He laughed and wrapped his jacket around them both, never taking his lips off hers. They looked so happy...so content...so...
 
“Hermione?” Oh so he did show up. The man in front of her was drenched, to say the least. He peeled a thoroughly soaked coat from his back and laid it on the back of a chair across from her. She studied him. He looked very much the same. Same unruly (although considerably damper) hair, same lopsided smile, same bright eyes... but tired. She couldn't help but note the dark, tired circles drawn beneath those glorious emerald eyes. And lines, lines creased beside his mouth and at his eyes. Lines that should not have been there. But who could blame him? She supposed it wasn't easy to carry the fate of the world on your shoulders since the time you were born.
 
“You're late, Harry.” He looked taken aback for a moment before catching sight of the forgiving smile tugging at the corner of her mouth. He offered that lopsided grin in return.
 
“Sorry, the weather was brutal.” She had noticed.
 
“I ordered you a coffee. One lump of sugar and no milk.” His grin widened and he planted a sloppy kiss on her cheek before taking a seat.
 
“You remembered.” She only gave him a knowing smile. A moment later, the waitress arrived, placing the steaming mugs between them. She flashed a flirtatious smile at Harry before returning to the counter. He looked rather uncomfortable.
 
“Please Harry you still embarrass more easily than a school girl?” He laughed cheekily and winked at her.
 
“So how have you been `Mione?” He tested the drink for temperature and hissed as the coffee burned his tongue.
 
“Same.” She shrugged comfortably. “I've been doing pretty ok. My roommate moved out - couldn't keep up with the rent. But frankly, I'd much rather scrap together the extra money than keep being woken up at one in the morning by her and whatever sort of man she brought home that particular night.” He nodded understandably. “After all, its a small flat. Much more cozy now. How have you been doing?” She paused before venturing. “How's Josephine?”
 
“I'm fine...fine. Josie is good too. I'm so sorry you couldn't make it to our engagement party. It was nice to see everyone after...after the war.” She reached across the small mosaic table and wrapped a ring-less hand around his. He squeezed, silently thanking her gesture of understanding. “Oh and did you hear? Ron's engaged!”
 
She smiled. Yes she knew. “To Luna Lovegood no less! He owled me a couple days ago to break the news.”
 
“He was the last one I expected to get tied down! We always though you would be first, `Mione.”
 
She shrugged. “Haven't found anyone that can keep up with me yet.” She retracted her hand and sipped cautiously at her coffee, a small line of steamed milk drawn on her upper lip. Slightly embarrassed, she licked it off and giggled. “I suppose he's out there somewhere. You're lucky - Josephine is a wonderful girl...” He smiled fondly at the thought of his fiancé. “Listen, I hate to cut our afternoon short, but I have to run something down town.” She gathered her coat and took one final taste of her coffee.
 
“So soon?” He looked upset. “Yes I'm so sorry. I promise to make it up to you soon!” Both of them knew that was a promise she couldn't necessarily keep. Separate lives kept them apart most of the time. He had a fiancé. She had her work. They made time when they could - but it wasn't enough. Their friendship had become somewhat of a routine.
 
“Alright I'll hold you to that.” This wasn't the first time this had happened. He would show up late, she would be called away early. It was almost a ritual now.
 
“I'll talk to you soon.” She dropped a couple bills on the table and headed out the door of the quaint café to brave the weather.
 
“You are stupid!” she scolded herself miserably. The rain soaked through her curls almost immediately. Limp waves clung to her now, like her supposedly waterproof jacket. She must remember to charm it when she got home. Some muggle products just weren't as reliable as they seemed. “Bloody Idiot. Coward! Stupid.” she ignored the rain and walked down the sidewalk, dragging her feet behind her. “The cleverest witch of the age!” She chanted mockingly to herself. “This cowardly witch can't even come clean to her own best friend. Damn. I hate being me.” She concluded depressingly. “SHIT!”
 
After the long (seemingly endless) trudge back to her flat blocks from the cafe, Hermione closed her door behind her before slumping down to the floor. Hanging her head in her hands. “You are pathetic.” She told herself mournfully. “A nice hot bath.” The cure for almost any boy-related ailment. Peeling off soaked layers, she hung her clothes over the heater and went into the bathroom to warm the water. Wrapped in a pale gray bathrobe, the “cleverest witch of the age” trudged to her blinking answering machine. She already knew who it was. She only knew two people with the knowledge to operate a telephone.
 
“Hello sweetie! It's me, mum, I'm just calling to check up on you. Your father told me that your living by yourself now? Please, Hermione, if you ever need any money - don't hesitate to ask. Well I suppose we can chat more later. Love you!” She shook her head. Her parents still had not grasped the fact that she lived in a wizard complex. Muggle money would be no use for her even if she did swallow her pride enough to ask for help. Not like that would ever happen anyway.
 
Next she checked her mail - a letter from Ginny lay by the fireplace. She scanned the room and spotted a dirty looking owl perched by the window waiting for her response. Digging into a shoddy
looking dresser, she produced two treats. She tossed one to the bird and went to break open the letter.
 
Hermione,
 
I suppose you have received word of Ron's engagement by now. It seems like it's been so long since we've had a chance to sit down and talk. I would love it if you would stop by anytime tomorrow and we could have a nice cup of tea and some biscuits. I look forward to hearing from you soon.
Yours Truly
Ginny
 
The letter was written in an unmistakable bubbled cursive and had been sealed in a perfume-scented envelope. Ginny would never change. Shaking her head humorously, she produced a piece of unscented parchment and quickly scribbled a response. Sealing it efficiently in a crisp new envelope, she offered the letter to the bird with the treat. Gratefully nipping the treat from her fingertips, the bird ruffled her feathers and prepared to brave the weather. Hermione wasn't worried about the ink running though, she had water sealed all her envelopes.
Now time for that bath...
 
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Hermione Granger squinted tiredly as she attempted and failed to conceal the yawn wining from the back of her throat with the back of one hand. The words on the typewriter in front of her blurred. She shook her head and blinked rapidly. It had been a difficult task falling asleep last night. She had tossed and turned and twisted and failed to keep him from her thoughts. Attempts to distract herself had always finished the same way, with his smile lingering on the back of her mind. She had found herself imaging what he was doing at that very moment. This train of thought, had of course, spiraled into images of him and his lovely fiancé, Josephine Schenck. tangled up in each other. Her pale blonde hair woven between his fingers. Her icy blue eyes melding with his emerald gaze. Then Hermione saw herself alone. Painfully ordinary brown hair hanging limply at her shoulders...blank dark eyes staring unfocused at the crowd passing her by...
 
“Miss Granger!” Mr. Gallagher was a large man with an equally large mustache and a seemingly perpetual frown frozen on his lips. He glared at the passing secretary menacingly and hoisted up his trousers. “Miss Granger I hope the fact that we are on an extremely tight deadline didn't slip your mind.” Mr. Gallagher had recently been promoted and taken the place of her former editor - a kindly old man with an eye for detail. Gallagher was a strict and unpleasant forty-something who stuck to the rulebook like glue.
 
Hermione shook her head quickly and gestured to the paper in front of her. “I'm still working on the introduction. It just isn't coming out the way I planned.” She glared frustrated at the parchment in front of her.
 
Gallagher stooped so his face was inches from hers. “Miss Granger, I do not care if the introduction isn't `how you planned'.” He smiled with his teeth clenched so tightly she could see his jaw quivering. “See the truth is, I do not care. The readers will not care. No one reads the introduction anyway.”
 
Hermione was horrified and outraged. Her mouth dropped open, eyes sparking angrily. Gallagher stood up straight and pulled at his pants once more. “Mr. Gallagher, I will not apologize for taking pride in work that will bear my name. Perhaps it would help you understand if you remember that not only Hogwarts but Durmstrang as well started using my version of History of Magic last year.”
 
He stroked his mustache and chuckled. “Miss Granger, perhaps it would help you understand my perspective by remembering that you cut your profits nearly in half by spending so much time on meaningless details.” He struggled with his pants for a moment before waddling off.
 
Hermione leapt to her feet, sending her rolling chair flying several feet back. “Mr. Gallagher?” He turned. “It might help to invest in a good pair of suspenders.” Her face was perfectly serious as she grabbed her coat from the back of her chair and walked by him, ignoring his increasingly purple face.
 
“Miss Granger!” He roared at her back. “Where do you think you are going?!”
 
She didn't turn around to answer him. “Lunch break!”
 
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A/N: please review and let me know what you thought :)