Chapter 12: Gifts

Disclaimer: I do not, nor will I ever own these characters. The situations they are confronted with are mine however.

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Chapter 12: Gifts

Sniff

"Hermione?"

Another sniff, followed by a hiccup.

"Hermione, are you in there?"

She took a deep breath and wiped her tear-stained cheeks dry. Or attempted to at least, since the floodgates couldn't be shut that easily.

"Yeah, Ginny. What's up?"

"Can I come in?"

"No!" she yelled, then caught herself, grasping the edge of the bathtub she was sitting on tightly. "I mean, I'm busy in here."

"Hermione, are you all right?" Molly.

She sighed in exasperation, which turned into more of a choked gasp due to the fact that she was still crying.

"I'm fine! I'll be right out! Honestly, can't one have even a moment to oneself in this bloody house?! Use one of the other three bathrooms, Ginny!"

The silence on the other side of the door was more recrimination than any words would have been, and she felt terribly guilty. She just had such a frail control over her emotions and temper right now. Whatever Snape had done two nights ago, its influence over her had clearly worn off and now everything was much, much worse than it had been before.

But that was no reason to yell at the two people apart from Snape who had shown their support to her in the past few days.

She wiped her face with another deep breath, trying to calm herself down, and got up from her seat on the edge of the bathtub to survey the damage in the mirror above the sink.

Her cheeks were still tear-stained, her eyes red and puffy, and her nose was slightly red and swollen from her constant wiping at it. Ugh. She grabbed some toilet paper, folded it up neatly into a makeshift hankie and blew her nose, not caring whether Molly and Ginny could hear on the other side of the door.

By the looks of it, they would know instantly what she had been up to in here anyway.

She gave her face a good wash with cold water in an effort to alleviate the puffiness of her eyes, but it only worked a little. Well, she had been crying in here for half an hour.

"Hold yourself together, Hermione. Do you want to be likened to Moaning Myrtle?" she muttered to her battered mirror-self looking back at her.

Then she dried her face and hands with a towel and, with two deep, steeling breaths, opened the door.

Sure enough, the two of them were still standing outside the door, looking both shocked and unsure at once. She hated that they were looking at her this way because of something she had said.

Taking another deep breath and looking at the floor she started to say, "I'm sorry, Molly, Ginny. I don't know what came over me. I just..." she trailed off, realising in disbelief that once again tears were spilling out of her eyes. She wiped at them angrily. She hated losing control like this, and now she had done so three times in thirty minutes!

Expression easing into a concerned smile, Molly came over and laid a comforting arm around Hermione's shoulders. "There, there. No need to be sorry. I realise this must be hard for you," Molly said soothingly.

Hermione did a double-take and ceased wiping at her wet face for a moment. "You do?"

"Yes, Hermione, we don't blame you at all for being short with us. Ron, honestly! One would think he'd have the guts to just tell you how he feels instead of playing these games!" Ginny huffed in indignation on her behalf, and Hermione was strangely relieved that both of them thought another topic entirely was at fault for her moodiness.

"But it's no excuse. I'm so sorry," she said more than a little guilty, both for yelling at them and now for letting them think she was crying about Ron. Though it was just as well, since she couldn't tell them the real reason.

"Nonsense, Hermione. I just hope he gets his head out of his behind soon, or I will make him see the error of his ways," Molly remarked with a dark look, then cheered up and said, "Come now, there's still a lot to do before the start of the party. That will distract you."

She seriously doubted that would be the case, judging by her rampant emotions, but it was nice of her to offer to take her mind off things. Besides, it couldn't hurt to try. So she let herself be led off downstairs into the study to continue putting up decorations for later.

***********

In the end there was still quite enough to do to keep all of them very busy, especially since the hide and seek of the surprise party was still on. Hermione worked as hard as ever, but with a kind of silent, dogged determination that was new.

Her mind had gone numb sometime in, making worrying blissfully impossible. That had drawbacks, too, however. She felt curiously dead on her feet, dragging herself from one task to the next, as if her body obeyed not her but some unknown master, pulling her strings. It was also not like she was especially tired, but more like nothing really mattered to her anymore, so if that was the case, why was she even still alive?

Not wanting to alert anyone with these morbid thoughts of hers, she kept them to herself and generally talked very little with the others. She wouldn't have known how to put her thoughts into words anyway, even if the others had wanted to hear them. Things had improved between her and her friends, that was true, but they were still far from the way they had been.

So she worked in a stoic manner, and finally after a few hours, all preparations were in place; Harry was out of the house, the food was in the final stages of being prepared, the decorations where Molly wanted, the gifts wrapped, and now the only thing left to do was to get ready for the party.

Hermione trudged up the stairs behind the others, went into the room she shared with Ginny, picked some random things out of her cupboard and like on autopilot left the room to get dressed in the bathroom down the hall.

Normally she wasn't that modest about changing in front of Ginny, but then she didn't even notice what she was doing, let alone the confused and slightly hurt look Ginny sent her way.

Hermione's awareness of her surroundings had been reduced to the absolute minimum without her even being aware of it.

So it was that a scant hour later, Hermione Granger was oblivious to the fact that reminiscent of Luna Lovegood she was wearing a green and yellow striped shirt, a maroon skirt and two different kinds of socks, complete with a necklace made up of brightly painted noodles that Luna had given her last Christmas to Harry's birthday party.

Of course she was also oblivious to the strange and inquiring looks sent her way until she was approached by the person she least expected to take an interest in how she was, when the party was already in full swing.

Harry had been duly surprised, the cake cut and eaten and the gifts opened. Music from the Wireless was blaring in the background, and the party was getting more rowdy and louder by the minute. Staring off into space as she was, Hermione didn't immediately notice that someone was standing next to her, let alone had called her name more than once.

"Hermione?"

"Hmm? Yes, Remus? Is something the matter?"

"I was just about to ask you the same thing. Are you all right?" Remus asked her, his brows drawn together in concern.

"Of course," she replied with she hoped was a big smile on her lips. "Why shouldn't I be?"

"It's just... Not that I mean to pry, but you're dressed very peculiarly."

"Really?" she asked without even bothering to check if he was correct. "You know, you're not supposed to criticise how a woman is dressed, Remus. She might be offended and hex you or something," she quipped, staring at a lampshade. It did look very curious. Why had she never noticed before?

A smile tugged at the corner of his mouth, but he wasn't about to be deterred that easily. "Of course, I'm sorry about making such a faux pas. You're right of course. However, I'm sure you won't hold it against me as you do look very... strange tonight."

"Thank you, and you're forgiven," she replied simply, now studying the pattern on the wallpaper with a curious expression instead.

If she had indeed heard or comprehended what he had said, he couldn't be sure.

"I'm glad," he said, studying her intently, his concern now more evident than before. She noticed neither.

With that short exchange the topic was closed and Remus was unable to catch her attention again that evening. He continued to observe her throughout the party, however, to the dismay of one very attentive pair of eyes.

***********

"Hermione? Ron?"

Hermione turned away from her study of an absolutely normal Ficus Ficus, aside from the fact that it 'looked' to be staring at her, though she couldn't be really sure without asking it, and Harry had just interrupted her attempt to do just that.

Her attention was grabbed for the first time since her strange chat with Remus. She was a bit alarmed to notice that things had quieted down considerably.

Nothing short of a few hours must have passed while she had studied - and tried to talk to - a plant.

"Yes, Harry? What is it?" she asked, trying to hide her alarm. It wouldn't do anyone any good if she upset him now with her problems.

"Can I talk to you for a second?" Harry asked quietly, looking around them to make sure no one was listening.

That didn't bode well at all, Hermione thought with furrowed brows. But after a hesitant sidelong glance at Ron, who she noticed had probably been standing next to her for a while, Hermione nodded decisively. Ron looked, for lack of a better word, pissed off. Uh-oh. But just because she and Ron had, uh, communication problems didn't mean she couldn't be in the same room with him without quarrelling. She at least would try to resist. And Harry had proved a real friend in the past week, talking to her again, although he normally tried not to take sides.

Ron hesitated a moment longer, but seeing as she had consented, he finally nodded as well.

Visibly relieved, Harry led the way away from the party and into one of the lesser-used sitting rooms.

When they were all inside, Harry closed the door behind them and with a slight hesitation, asked, "Hermione, would you? An Imperturbable Charm?"

She simply stared at him for a long moment - it was the first time he had respected her new-found ability to use magic outside of school - before she pulled her wand out of its place up her left sleeve and uttered the incantation, effectively sealing the room.

What can be so important, we'll need...?

"What is this about, Harry?" Ron asked, a wary look on his face.

Harry leaned back against the door with a strange expression on his face.

"What do you want to tell us, Harry? You know that it'll be all right, we'll just listen if you want us to," she said, thinking that might be the reason for his reluctance to speak.

"I know," Harry said with a weak smile, "That is not the reason I... You know that night at the Ministry?"

Hermione looked abruptly away and tried to keep from shaking. She nodded.

"Yeah," Ron replied, "How could I forget? Never had a brain attached to me before."

Hermione, feeling his eyes on her as he spoke, wondered once again about her friend. That he would bring that up now of all times, just when Harry wanted open up to them and tell them something important. If he thought such behaviour, not to mention bad humour, would enamour her of him, he was seriously mistaken.

She only barely kept from snorting out loud in disgust.

Harry wisely ignored his best friend and continued, "Do you remember what Malfoy said? About that prophecy?"

Hermione's gaze whipped up to Harry's, meeting someone's eyes for the first time that day.

"Yes, of course. I just... thought it would be best to wait to ask you about it," she said tentatively. Just because she was neck-deep in trouble didn't mean she was the only one still bothered by Sirius' death.

"Yeah, me, too," Ron added.

"He was right. Malfoy. There was a prophecy about Voldemort and me."

"And now it's gone," Ron said, dismayed.

"No, it's not," Harry said to both her and Ron's surprise.

"That prophecy was made to Dumbledore, and he told it to me that night," Harry explained, his eyes fixed on something far away. "He told me everything that night." She was stunned to hear bitterness in his voice. He usually worshipped the ground Dumbledore walked on. What could he have told Harry to cause this change of heart?

"What did it say, Harry?" she asked, at once curious and reluctant to hear what the infernal prophecy said that had cost Sirius his life.

"From what it said," Harry took a deep breath, "it looks like I'm the one who's got to finish off Voldemort... at least, it said neither of us could live while the other survives."

The tension in the silence that followed was so thick it was almost tangible.

So many thoughts whirled through Hermione's head that not one was able to push itself to the forefront.

She was speechless.

With this prophecy and the ritual that would follow in a few hours she didn't know what to think anymore. It was as if all those thoughts were crowding her head, without even one of them making it to the surface. The only thing she felt with every fibre of her being was that something big was coming.

She needed to get out of this room and quickly.

She couldn't pretend for a moment longer that nothing was going on. She could feel the fragile control she'd had on herself all that day slipping, like a scarf being smoothly pulled from around someone's neck.

She managed to mumble some apologetic and hopefully reassuring words to Harry about the prophecy and to excuse herself before she fought to walk as slowly as she could to the door. Hermione tried to open it in as calm a manner as possible, ignoring the concerned questions of her friends behind her. But of course the door wouldn't open. It took her some desperate rattling of the doorknob to realise that the Imperturbable Charm was still on the door, keeping everyone inside in and everyone else out. With a mumbled curse she lifted the charm from the door and escaped.

The hold she had on herself evaporated instantly. She ran past all kinds of people on her way upstairs and straight into the attic, her only haven, not really seeing any of them. Her view was misty with tears spilling over, but curiously she didn't stumble even once on her way up the stairs.

She reached the top of them in a daze, ran on down the hallway and through the already open door, not noticing that fact in the least. It slammed shut behind her, the noise echoing down the stairs for a good minute.

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A/N: First of all sorry to all who have been waiting for this chapter. My LJ under the same name will reveal all the troubles of the past few months to you.

I'm glad for everyone who is still along for the ride, and rest assured I *will* finish this fic, even if I can't promise regular updates at the moment.

Thanks as ever to my vigilant betas, ladyinthecloak and lux_astraea, as well as Geminiscorp for wielding the whip. Thanks also to Firefly_124 who set me the challenge to finish this chapter by her birthday. So now this is your birthday prezzie! Enjoy! I hope it lives up to expectations. :) Thanks also to voxangelus, who set me a similar deadline for her birthday. It seems I can only work under pressure, so keep badgering me and it'll go faster. :)

Thanks as ever to little one, who was a brave little patient on New Years. *hugs*