Tainted - {d.m. & h.g.}

seventeen - the papers | him

it's been so long— and i do apologize. life is crazy and writer's block is a bitch. thank you for your patience 💜

song: sirens - fleurie

HERMIONE

The rest of the day is quiet.

She decides that skipping out on the trip to Hogsmeade this weekend was her best bet at achieving her goal of a relaxing day, despite Ginny's adamant pestering.

Hermione just wanted to spend her Saturday reading and finishing her assignments.

She's now laying stomach down on the bottom half of her bed, feet crossed in the air behind her— Pride and Prejudice open wide as she rereads one of her favorite parts for the fifth or sixth time today; she doesn't know, she's lost count.

Darcy's first proposal will always be there to provide a slither of happiness in her gut.

The sun is setting, and the sky is a water-colored pink through the arched window above her desk— and it's nearing six in the evening now, her stomach is beginning to grumble.

Her small lunch of leftover biscuits is wearing very thin.

She'd been too enthralled in her reading to even think about venturing out for lunch to The Great Hall. Wouldn't want to go alone anyways.

And she's expecting Ginny to burst through her bedroom door at any second now to accompany her to the Great Hall for dinner— and she feels somewhat ready for the witch to spill today's gossip.

She could use a normal conversation... or two— conversations that involve petty teenage drama of who wore what to Hogsmeade and who will be at what party this evening.

So, when Ginny does burst through the door half an hour later— red hair coming loose from her braid and smile brighter than ever— Hermione feels a sense of warmth.

The witch's eyes linger a second too long on the folded slither of silver fabric laying in the middle of the four poster— the edges of them crinkle together as if she were smiling. Like she knew Harry was surprising her with it.

"Hey Stranger," the witch beams. Satchel slinging heavy over her shoulder as she barges in through the doorway— twisting her brown jumper in ways that look slightly uncomfortable. Wisps of red hair halo messily around her face, torn lose from her braids by the September wind.

"Hey yourself," she replies, "How was Hogsmeade?" she questions— even though she knows Ginny will not hesitate to spill her day's adventure without question.

She sighs, "I'll walk and talk. I'm quite the master at multi-tasking," she smirks, "I'm starving though, so let's go."

She rubs the palm of her hand in circles over her worn Gryffindor jumper. "But first—," she says, tone jumping to a slightly more serious one as she eyes the skeletal key that lays flat next to Hermione on the bed, "Did you use the key? Did you go?" Her words fall to an urgent and whispered tone— freckles crinkle with her facial expression.

Hermione's eyes flit to where the key sits on her nightstand and then back to Ginny, "No," she says gingerly, "I got— caught up with something— ," she scoots herself off the bed, "I'm going tonight...I think." She says the words like she's unsure.

Ginny's shoulders drop— surely upset there will be no party tonight. She brushes a loose strand of hair out of her eyes, "I can go with you—," she adds, "If you don't want to go alone. I mean it's not a big deal—," she lowers her tone, "It could be fun. Sneaking about the castle at night."