When We Were Beasts

The Funeral

Present Day
Hermione adjusted her dress one more time before stepping out of the shadows and walking into the ballroom.

Pansy had selected a classic look for her: a strapless black dress that hugged her, but not too tight, along with black gloves that curved to just above her elbows. Her curls were pinned back with kirby grips disguised as black pearls, and light blush, darkened lip gloss, and mascara were carefully brushed across her cheeks and lashes. It made her face itchy. She had firmly resisted any jewelry.

Hermione knew if she didn't do her part, Pansy would drag her around and do the socializing for her (though Neville would try to object to this, to no avail). This was better. Or at least, that's what she tried to remind herself.

Hermione spotted her friend in a striking ice-blue dress with a slit that went to her hip, her arm draped over Neville's chest as they conversed with an older couple Hermione didn't know. Hermione quickly turned the other way.

Drinks, Hermione thought to herself. A glass of water, maybe some champagne, and you'll be right as rain.

She was working on that glass of champagne when Ron coughed behind her.

Hermione tightened her hold on the glass. And blatantly ignored him.

"'Mione," Ron moaned as he stepped into her view. "Please don't ignore me."

Hermione swallowed the venom she wanted to spew.

She wondered, most days, how she had ever drawn hearts around their names.

She gave him a saccharine smile. "Good evening to you, Ron. I hope you and Lavender have a fine time. Now, if you'll excuse me-"

He grabbed her arm, and something in his expression kept her from violently pulling away and throwing her drink in his face.

"Please, Hermione. I really need to get something off my chest."

She breathed in. Out. Buried all of the anger and pain in that garden of hers.

"Okay."

His eyebrows rose. "Okay?"

"I said okay." She bit out.

Maybe this was better than running into the Johnsons. Perhaps talking with Ron was better than facing them and remembering what she did to Angelina.

In her peripheral, as her and Ron made their way to a table, she saw Blaise escorting Luna towards Pansy and Neville.

Luna, dressed in a wild gown made of soft golds and purples, looked better than Hermione did. Blaise was dressed in simple formal robes, and though he carried Luna on his arm, everyone knew he was a brother to her rather than a lover.

He was her protector, since Theo no longer was.

Hermione was almost jealous that Luna recovered better than she did. Both of them had lost the love of their lives and somehow Luna kept helping Fantastic Beasts, kept planting flowers, kept working on The Quibbler...

Hermione had run a successful apothecary, yes, but there had been no passion for the business. No love in it. It's why she sold it. She had hoped becoming a professor would change that, and yet she still felt empty.

Ron had begun speaking, and Hermione forced herself to turn away from Luna and at least pretend to listen.

"...and marry her."

Hermione blinked. "Marry who?"

"Lavender, Hermione. I'm going to ask Lavender to marry me tonight."

Hermione felt her lip begin to curl. "What does this have to do with me, Ron?"