Bittersweet
Email: m_shell@hotpop.com
Rating: R, probably.
Pairing: *counts on fingers* Hermione/Lavender, Lavender/Parvati . . .
*blinks* My, they do get around, don't they?
Spoilers: Nah, although without having read most of the books, I doubt
it'll make a lot of sense.
Warnings: Still more angst. Multiple partners.
Notes: Sorry this took so long. School got in the way. But now it's summer
vacation, and I'll write the conclusion really soon. Really. ^_^
Summary: Parvati finds a boy, and Lavender goes looking for a girl.
Hermione gets involved, and complications ensue.
Hermione strongly suspected that she was the only one who was disappointed
when Professor McGonagall cancelled the afternoon's advanced
Transfiguration class. The rest of the class seemed, on the whole, quite
cheery about getting an afternoon off; immediately after the announcement,
there was a good-natured rustle and thump of books being shoved into
bookbags and of half-a-dozen conversations beginning at once about what
could be done with this unexpected good fortune.
Hermione sighed internally as she thrust her books roughly into her bag.
Classes, especially classes with Professor McGonagall, were her favorite
place to be recently. She was more grateful than ever for the opportunity
to turn her mind to something definite and clear-cut-nothing wooly like
Divination, but a good Arithmancy or Transfiguration problem which could
challenge her to lose herself in devising an elegantly complex solution. It
occurred to Hermione, though, that probably her roommates both were out in
the sunshine, leaving the room free for her to slip in and out on her way
to the library. All the advanced classes were optional, and not many
Gryffindors of her year had opted for this one. Lots of Ravenclaws and
Hufflepuffs, and even some Slytherins, but oddly enough few Gryffindors;
she supposed that most of them, being less academically dedicated than
herself, had simply been glad to have the period free from the tedious
demands of school.
Almost no-one was in the Gryffindor common room, not that Hermione was
paying much mind-apparently her guess had been right, and the afternoon had
proved too beguiling for indoor study. She hurried up the stairs, in the
hopes of outpacing anyone who might distract her from her purpose. The door
to her room was firmly shut, though Hermione had been sure she'd left it
ajar, but this detail somehow failed to register immediately; rather, she
simply flung it wide open and dropped her bag as usual.
The first thing to catch her attention was a sudden frenetic rustle from
Lavender's canopied bed. Startled, Hermione looked towards the noise. The
vision that met her gaze stirred up an immediate maelstrom of feeling in
the pit of her stomach. Lavender was on the bed with Parvati, and although
neither girl was terribly unclothed, there was no possible question as to
what they had been doing previously. Parvati looked abashed and defiant,
but Hermione's eyes were drawn inexorably to the other girl. Lavender's
robes were rumpled, her soft brown hair disarrayed, and her lips pink and
swollen. At first she kept her eyes down, not meeting Hermione's, but at
last she looked up. There was a look of shy pleading in them that Hermione
could hardly endure. Despite the apparent evidence of her senses, for a
moment Hermione was almost convinced by that look that Lavender did. .
.care. . .Breath catching in her throat, Hermione fled the room, not even
stopping to pick up her bag. She had to get away somewhere. She had to get
away.
The air outside, balmy and flower-scented though it might be, felt almost
icy on Hermione's face. She was dimly aware that her skin felt as if there
was a fire just beneath it, but only dimly. Hermione looked around herself
at last, realizing she was in the field near the Quiddich pitch. There
seemed to be a pickup Quiddich game going on. The thought of having to hold
a normal conversation with anyone seemed suddenly unbearable, and she
hurried on. Where could she go that no-one would find her? she thought
distractedly. Perhaps the Herbology greenhouses . . .Gryffindors were
seldom to be found there, or Ravenclaws. Speeded by her new resolve,
Hermione skirted the Quiddich patch rapidly and headed for refuge.
The air was warm and close inside the greenhouse. The afternoon light
slanted through the windowpane, warming the streaked glass, and the curious
flowers that blossomed there gave off a haunting perfume that was oddly
soothing. Hermione spread her sweater on the ground and sat down, leaning
heavily against the door. She had spent so long suppressing her tears that
she found it near impossible, even now, to let them flow. What in the world
had she done? she asked herself rhetorically. And what was she going to do?
Though she'd thought that time and distance had callused over her hurt and
regret, the sight of Lavender and Parvati together had confirmed her worst
fears and torn down her defenses, leaving her vulnerable and sore at heart.
The peaceful warmth of the greenhouse was having an odd effect on her,
though. She was weary to the bone, in mind and body, and she yielded to the
urge to curl up and sleep. Despite the lumpy dirt floor, despite her thin
sweater, she fell easily into slumber.
Hermione awoke with a start. Something was thumping frantically against the
glass door. It was, she realized fuzzily, an owl-a school owl, with
something tied to its leg. Clumsily, she rose and opened the greenhouse
door, gently pulling the note from the owl's leg. As it flew off, she
unrolled the letter. It was written on lavender paper in purple ink.
Hermione scanned the letter. The signature hit her with an almost-physical
force . . .Lavender. The note was from Lavender.
chapter 5
