Swallowed A Fly
Hermione knows lots and lots of things. When she doesn't know something she thinks about it, breaking it down into steps and variables and simplifying until it sits in her mind, ordered and safe. Something she now knows. She's gotten another hundred on an arithmancy quiz this week.
Life is an equation and they are easy to solve, if one knows the right steps and the right rules. If anyone knows the right rules, it's Our Hermione. And if she doesn't know now, she'll find out soon. She'll do great, That Hermione. We don't have to worry about Hermione; we don't even have to think about her much. Just when we bump into her in the hall, or have extra homework.
Slow and steady. Up and down, side to side. Mum taught her how to brush her teeth when she was four. Pulled Hermione's hair into a knot at the nape of her neck (Can't hide behind that mop forever!), and handed her a brand-new red-handled toothbrush. It was shiny and she wished it had her name on it.
If you know the answer, it doesn't mean you know the why. Anyone can remember an answer, it doesn't mean they understand. If all you know is the answer, what happens when you need to know the question?
She thinks that the question is How Much? How much longer? How much bigger? How much stronger? At least it is right now. She doesn't like the way she looks, but slapping Malfoy makes her think that she'd rather be too big than too little. After that it doesn't bother her that much because it's the truth, and the truth is supposed to be good and right.
Self-discipline is better than imposed discipline, but imposed discipline is better than no discipline at all.
She can see her entire life set out before her. When she's eighteen she'll graduate from Hogwarts, she'll get a job. It will be just like school except she'll have to do her own laundry and cooking.
She sits in the Great Hall every morning and wonders if something new will happen today. It never does.
"Today we will learn the very useful Flame Freezing charm. Can anyone tell me what this charm was most widely used for?"
Hand up. Don't even need to think about it.
"Miss Granger?"
"During witch trials of the seventeenth century, many actual witches and wizards were accused and convicted. If they were sentenced to burn at the stake they would employ the use of this charm and suffer no more than a faint tickling sensation."
"Very good Miss Granger. 10 points to Gryffindor."
"Professor?"
"Yes, Miss Granger?"
"Were muggleborns, who hadn't yet discovered they were wizards, ever accused of witchcraft?"
"I imagine so Miss Granger."
"What happened to them? I mean, did anyone- any wizard- do anything to help them?"
"I'm sorry Miss Granger but this isn't History of Magic. Now, open your books class..."
History books don't answer a lot of her questions anymore. Things like skin and hair and how much are only mentioned in her potions book, but it doesn't help that much anyways. For the answers, she's looked all through the library and found nothing. She even borrowed the invisibility cloak to look in the restricted section. Nothing, just like always.
Ron asked her: "Why Hermione? Why do you do some much extra if you don't have to?"
Why. Why is the ocean blue? Because it reflects the sky. Why is the sky blue? Because it reflects the ocean.
"I can't answer everything, Ron."
Laugh. Chuckle.
"Sure you can, it's what you're good at."
When Harry left he took with him the innocence of a generation. That's what the paper said, never mind the fact that You- Voldemort had done most of the taking. Never mind that Grindewald had come before him. Innocence belonged to Harry and he couldn't have left it behind even if he'd tried. Not that he'd tried.
He looks funny as a ghost, she thinks and because she thinks it she believes it. Harry, the brave and solid and real and scruffy, now shimmery and dramatic-looking. He tries not to be noticeable, floats as close to the floor as he can and still moves his legs like he's walking.
He tells her: "It's like regular walking, floating is. You just, you want to go over there, and you do. Moving my legs is a bit harder though- have to think really hard about that."
She knows, she's read enough, that she could bring him back. It would only break about ten laws and wouldn't cost that much money...
"No." Harry says, gusting enough to make himself drift slightly, and "You can't, it's wrong... it must be."
Because Harry is forever reacting to the rest of everything, never mind that Dumbledore said ghosts are people who have unfinished business, deeds undone, acts not committed. He's never started anything, always finished it and now he's finished (mostly) and she thinks she must be too.
She tells Ron that she could bring Harry back, all the way, and he reacts differently than she expects.
"Why do it?" he asks, "Why would you want to? It's over! You-know-who is gone and Harry's happy at Hogwarts!"
Ron's forever asking, he's the eternal question, and she thinks that if she is the answer he must know something that she doesn't.
Harry floats beside Ron, best man at their wedding, and Hermione wonders why he wouldn't want to Be again. But he is Harry and Harry wouldn't ever take any bit of happiness away from Ron. Harry wouldn't even want to. She thinks that he's probably even happy for her.
Ron, who is so very full, of joy, of love, a bundle of nerves. Content in the having, as most Weasley's are. She goes home with him and they visit Harry at Christmas with little Betty because she couldn't very well name a girl Harry, and she can't even honour him that way, and she wonders if she knew it would end like this when she was fourteen.
She asks Ron: "Did you know, that in the end it would be you and me?" and Ron tells her Yes, yes, he's always known and always loved her and always, always will, except that wasn't what she was asking. Did he know it would be just us? She still has trouble remembering it's just them and not just her, or just him, with Harry somewhere in between.