#180 in Fanfiction || #1 in Hermione ||
In the language of literature, there exists a seemingly-concrete, antonymous relationship between good and evil, light and dark, hero and monster. And yet, we often disregard the transition from one to anothe...
But Harry cannot let the lingering grudge go, asking, "Still, isn't there something we can do to Skeeter?"
"The Muggles have this stuff call Raid--it kills insects," Arthur tells them upon entering with a new loaf of banana bread, fresh out of the oven and drawing them all in.
But, for the first time in history, Ron is not first attracted by the food, but by revenge, exclaiming, "Where can we find it?"
"We just finished one quest," Hermione replies to Ron tensely, her shoulders hunched in tight aches, "Let's take a break before we start another, please."
Standing to her feet with a quick ease of flight, Hermione steps from the room and onto the porch, intentionally trying to escape from the present and lurking matters of business. But Tom can tell from her tone that Hermione is tensed due to matters other than Rita Skeeter, her anxiety of something else now manifesting in conversation. And knowing it is better that she does not linger in her ponderings--given her sometimes angry explosions--Tom follows her out the door, nodding to the others who seem startled by her leaving.
He takes his place at her side, leaning against the old and wooden post as Hermoine's brain whirls around. She understands that Tom knows her to be worried over something, the boy capable of reading her like the back of his own hand. Hermione appreciates it at times, such as now, but she cannot help wondering just how well Tom understands her feelings for him.
"I would like to go return my parents' memories," Hermione distracts herself and Tom with the voicing of her worries, the reminder of her loss now ringing in Tom's mind. He'd truly forgotten about her own sacrifices made at the beginning of the war, but her tensed behavior now makes sense, turning to her with an asking eye.
"When?"
"As soon as possible."
Tom looks at her, the desperation for her parents--a notion Tom never once understood. And he'll never be able to--as much as he wishes for the feeling--having had nothing but a cold wardeness to take care of him as a child. He's been alone his entire life--all before Hermione arrived and swept him away--so it's almost incomprehensible, the struggle she is facing.
But he knows it matters greatly to her, and therefore to him, as he echoes, "Then we ought to get changed. It's approaching night in Australia now."
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Hermione grins brightly up at the boy, more empowered in this task now that Tom's made it clear he'll be joining her. He said he'd never leave me again. But nonetheless, it's a manifestation of his devotion, leaning up to kiss his cheek that flushes slightly under the lingering touch. She grins and rushes inside, not hindered by the crowds or the steep stairs.
Slowly, Tom follows after Hermione, her form quickly disappearing from his eye in the massive rush to send themselves to Australia. And he is not the only one to notice her exhilarated sprint, Ron striding over to ask, "What'd you do to make her so bloody happy?"
