Yankee Accents

Disclaimer: I do not own anything that is in this story, except the plot, and any characters that you do not recognize. Everything else belongs to J.K. Rowling!!! Lyrics are "It's You", from Switchfoot.

Yankee Accents

Chapter Five: Reunion Party

Written By: Auburn Lily

"I can't believe I'm going to this," Hermione muttered darkly to herself as she trudged up the walk on Hogwarts grounds. It was dusk and the sky threatened to spill yet more snow on the already heavily laden grounds. The castle up ahead was lit brightly for Christmas, golden light spilling onto the glittering snow, and the only sound Hermione heard apart from the whispering murmurs of the trees was the soft crunch of her footsteps on the ground.

She brushed a few stray strands of curly hair out of her face and clutched her thick, black cloak more tightly around her shoulders. After Harry had persuaded her to come (which had taken an immensely long time), he had told her that the ball was formal. She had responded quite splendidly to this, adorning herself in a full-length, silk gold gown with black lace thrown over top. The bodice was cut low, and she wore no jewelry except for a ruby gemstone on her right hand. Her long, dark hair fell down her back in a cascading wave of rolling curls and ringlets, interwoven with black lace, and contrasting sharply with her snow-white skin and rosy cheeks. She wet her lips self-consciously as she reached the large front doors of Hogwarts.

She stepped inside, and was faced with an empty, dimly lit entrance hall. She heard soft voices and the gentle tinkling of expensive, crystal china filtering from the Great Hall. Her shoes echoed harshly off the stonewalls as she slowly made her way up the stairs and through the thrown-open doors of the Great Hall, which were thrown open to admit the alumni.. The chandeliers that hung from the ceiling were lit with thousands of candles, bathing the Hall in gorgeous amber light. The four house tables had been removed to be replaced with smaller, round tables topped with a few more candles and lacy table cloths. The Head's Table was weighed down with refreshments and at the end she saw a few of her old teachers chatting softly. Soft music filled the room from nowhere in particular, playing tunes that she hadn't heard since the summer before her seventh year. She glanced around the room, looking at her former classmates for the first time in so long.

She spotted Harry and Ron, sitting at one of the tables with Dean, Seamus, and Neville, their fellow, former-Gryffindors. Hermione slowly made her way over to them, sliding her cloak of her shoulders as she went. When she sat down in one of the elegant seats the three unrecognizable boys in front of her smiled, clearly indicating that Harry and Ron had already informed them of her return. Ron smiled at her as well but Harry simply stared at her in disbelief.

"Hermione," he said quite breathlessly. "You're beautiful."

Hermione blushed noticeably, but didn't reply, just lowered her eyes to the tabletop.

"So anyways," Ron said, turning back to the other three to carry on their conversation from before. "I was talking to Portis at our last practice and he said we take on Bulgaria in a few months. England hasn't beaten them in thirty years and this well be it..." Ron's voice tapered off in Hermione's mind, and even though Dean and Seamus were paying rapt-attention she couldn't seem to avoid Harry's minty-gray gaze.

There's always something in the way

There's always something getting through

It's not me

It's you

She blinked a few times and tucked her hair behind an ear. She strategically avoided his gaze for a few more seconds, searching through the crowd for any recognizable faces. However this proved futile. If it weren't for the nametags stuck lopsidedly to everyone's chests Hermione wouldn't have been able to place names to their faces.

Sometimes ignorance rings true

Hope is not in what I know

It's not in me, it's in you

It's in you

Hermione turned her muddy eyes back to Harry, only to see him staring intently at her. She blinked a few times and licked her lips again.

"... You'll have to get me tickets for when you play the American team," Dean was saying, as bits and pieces of their conversation pervaded Hermione's thoughts.

"And I want some for when you play Ireland..." Seamus interjected eagerly.

"Yea, yea, yea," Ron said, smiling.

It's all I know...

It's all I know...

It's all I know...

I find peace when I'm confused

I find hope when I'm let down

Not in me, in you

It's in you

"Hermione Granger?" Hermione heard in her ear. She tore herself from Harry's eyes, and looked up into a pair of black and sky-blue ones. She looked at their nametags, only to see "Parvati Patil" and "Lavender Brown" inscribed in silvery, flowing script. Age seemed to have suited Lavender well. Her light brown skin still stretched taut and firm over her round cheeks. Darker brown, childish freckles still spotted her nose and brow, and her clear eyes held an inquisitive, curious nature that hadn't faded with time. Parvati, on the other hand, still seemed to be dealing with the loss of her sister, Padma, in the war. Hair that used to be long and flowing now sat above her shoulders, chopped, dark and limp, much resembling Hermione's own. Her eyes had lost the rigorous sheen that had once resided in their depths and her skin was no longer tan and sun-kissed. Her smile was weak.

'Merlin, people never forget about anything around here, do they?' Hermione asked herself, quite contradictorily mind you.

"Hi Parvati, Lavender. How've you been?" Hermione asked conversationally.

"Oh simply wonderful," Lavender gushed, thrusting her left hand towards Hermione to scrutinize. Encircling her ring finger was a gold band, encrusted with a 2-carat diamond. It was a bit gaudy.

"Wow Lavender," Hermione simpered. "Who's the lucky guy?"

"Robbie Allen," she replied promptly. "Muggle."

She sat down in an empty chair and Parvati placed herself beside Lavender, head resting on fists. She visibly pouted.

I hope to lose myself for good

I hope to find it in the end

Not in me, in you

In you

'Ugh, screw this song,' Hermione thought miserably. She point-down refused to continue her staring contest with Harry. She graciously excused herself, taking her cloak with her, saying that she needed to get something to drink. She made her way to the top table, unfortunately feeling Harry's eyes bore into her back the entire time.

She poured herself a glass of clear champagne and took a slow sip before looking over the rim of her glass to see Professor McGonagall's steel-gray eyes staring down at her. Hermione lowered her glass slowly and smiled sheepishly before tucking more hair behind her ear. One of McGonagall's notorious eyebrows arched.

"Miss Granger," McGonagall acknowledged. "It's nice to see you."

"Likewise Professor," Hermione replied quite nervously.

"I've been meaning to talk to you," she continued taking Hermione's cloak from her. "Follow me."

Hermione obliged, carrying her drink with her, and followed McGonagall into a backroom, where many cloaks hung on hooks. After hanging Hermione's up her former teacher turned to her.

"I have a proposition for you."

Hermione knew what she was about to request, and sighed heavily, running her fingers through her hair absentmindedly. She had been anticipating this ever since Harry had told her of Dumbledore's desire for her to teach at Hogwarts. She feared that it would make her return to Delaware more difficult than ever.

"Yes Professor?" Hermione anticipated.

"I would be simply delighted, as would all of the other teachers and students, if you would be willing to take up a teaching position here at Hogwarts, starting next term. Arithmancy will be vacant, as Professor Vector has been desperate to retire for the last five years and we haven't had an Ancient Runes instructor for the last two. You could of course, fill both because not many students are enrolled in either of the classes."

"Oh Professor McGonagall, I would be simply honored to take up teaching here. But I only have two months of leave from my work and it would be extremely difficult to leave all I have back at home," Hermione replied making up excuses more for herself than for her teacher.

Professor McGonagall sniffed, and said, "Well please do seriously reconsider. You know, Harry has been teaching DADA and Neville teaches Herbology which, if I don't say so myself, is an extreme accomplishment for him. And I do believe that Mr. Malfoy teaches potions. Weren't you two romantically involved at some point?"

"Yes Professor," Hermione said exasperatedly. Now she really wasn't going to stay. "We were married for a short time period."

"Yes," she said thoughtfully, reminiscing. "How I do remember. September wasn't it? The ceremony was simply beautiful. And you my dear, were the most beautiful of it all."

A knife cut sharply through Hermione's heart as she was forced to remember it all... Draco proposing in front of the fire... Narcissa smiling genuinely at her... They're wedding in the Hogwarts chapel, white roses everywhere... Draco staring at her lovingly as she walked down the petal-strewn aisle... Hermione telling him she was with child... and Draco telling her he didn't want one.

She swiftly blinked away tears that were forming and clinging to her eyelashes. She turned her back on Professor McGonagall and brushed the rapidly flowing tears lightly off her cheeks.

She didn't know why every time she thought about it she got incredibly emotional. And she also didn't know why she hadn't found anyone who made her feel the same as he did. Yes Jimmy was nice, but he wasn't at all like Draco. It had happened so long ago and Hermione wondered if he had changed in any way.

She felt a hand squeeze her shoulder gently and turned her blurry, swollen eyes on Professor McGonagall. She wiped her mouth and smeared rouge on her cheeks. Minerva pulled a handkerchief out of her plum-colored robes and handed it to Hermione before taking her leave, shutting the door gently behind her.

Hermione wiped her face off and silently blew her nose before smoothing her hair out.

'It's going to be okay Hermione,' she thought to herself. 'You're going to go out there and you're going to have fun seeing everyone, and then you're going to go back Delaware and continue working at the hospital.'

And she did go back out there. She danced with Harry and Ron and Seamus and Professor Dumbledore and Hagrid. Heck, even Snape asked her for a dance. And she laughed and ate and drank some more and she was having as much fun as she had when she had still lived here. That is, until she saw him from across the room.

She was sitting with Mandy Broklehurst, the second smartest witch in her year and they were remembering the Seventh Year Ball when she laid eyes on him for the first time in forever. He was leaning against one of the walls in the corner, solitary, with a drink clutched in his hand. All color drained from her face as her eyes spotted him.

Mandy, spotting where Hermione was looking with wide eyes and a pale face mumbled a barely discernible farewell and took her leave. Hermione, breathing raggedly now, stood up and fled the Hall, heading for a solitary place.

Unfortunately for her, he saw her leave and quickly followed.