After the Fall

Disclaimer: Not Mine

After the Fall

Falling Apart Again

"Listen, I have been over this with you before, I need to know." Hermione drummed the fingers on the counter, glaring at the clerk.

"Yes, we have been over this before, and it is the same now as it has been all term." The clerk looked over Hermione's shoulder at the growing line. "It is a matter of privacy and I can't give you that information."

"Privacy?" Hermione rolled her eyes. "It is my account! How can payments on my account be private?"

"It's paid. That's all I can tell you." The clerk looked down at the file and the stamp that covered the top of the first page. The original file sat in the Director's office, sealed, and only accessible by himself and the Headmaster. "I really am sorry, Vickie, but I don't even have the information."

Hermione pick up her books, hugged them to her chest and stomped out of the office, looking at the floor and muttering under her breath. She was furious that Richard had denied doing this. How dare he interfere and pretend he had no knowledge of it? If he thought this would help her to decide to move the ring to her other hand he was sorely mistaken. She would not be manipulated.

She had spent time with his family, having a hard time at first fitting in to a family again. When he had merely called her on the phone, and talked to her while she was with Hannah, Hermione had felt at home and peace for the first time in years. She looked at pictures of him, as he walked with his arm in his sister's, and smiled, thinking how much she yearned to be with him. When he walked into a room, she felt her breath leave her. When she caught him looking at her at odd times she felt safe, wanted, and strangely free.

Now all she saw was betrayal and his controlling nature. She refused to be controlled, to be pushed in a corner and told what to do. She was done with that. She felt a fist clenching in her chest and saw her vision shimmer with anger. She stopped in the middle of the hall and spun to the staircase, climbing up to the third floor and to his office. She burst into the room and saw him standing behind the desk, with a long-haired blond standing in front of him, her hand on his cheek, and him leaning down as if ready to kiss her.

"Vickie!" He stood up and looked at her as she ran from the room in tears.

Her books slipped out of her hands as she clutched the banister to keep from falling. She kept putting one foot in front of the other, no longer able to see where she was going. Feeling arms around her waist, she twisted to get away only to be held firmer. She felt caught by hands she could not see and she could smell fire, and the sound of falling stones filled her ears.

"No, Vic, no." He pulled her to him. "It's not what you think. She's my sister-in-law. There is nothing to it. Bloody hell, stop fighting me, we will both land at the bottom of the stairs."

"Miss Gardner, I assure you he is telling the truth." The blond from his office hurried down the stairs towards them. "I am married to Henry, his older brother. Please come back up stairs. Truly, it must have looked awful to you, but it was nothing. I just arrived, please come back."

Hermione looked up at him and pulled angrily away. Lifting her arm, she struck him with her open hand as hard as she could across his face.

"You bastard!" she thundered at him. "You paid my tuition without telling me. You made a fool of me. I have been down there yelling at the cashier for the past hour. Then I come up here and find this."

"Vickie?" Richard brought his hand to his face, feeling the blood in the corner of his mouth. "What the bloody hell has gotten into you?"

"I came to tell you we are done." She pulled the ring off her finger and shoved it at him. "I've heard this before. Nice words, always nice words, then they tell me what to do and just wait for someone else to do their work. Always telling me what to do and then leaving me alone when I need help getting out. No, I won't be shoved into it again. I can't do this again. I won't."

Richard was stunned. He had no idea what had just happened, apart from the misunderstanding in his office. It was obvious that something else had upset her, but he had no idea what. He looked into her face and was not sure she was seeing him. Her eyes looked haunted and darted around, as if searching the corners and shadows.

"Take it, take it." Hermione held the ring out to him, trembling, and then flung it at his face as she turned and ran down the stairs.

"So, that's her?" Lisa frowned at him. "I would say run after her, but you may need to let her cool down a minute."

"What happened?" He leaned over the railing, looking down to the bottom in time to see Hermione reach the lobby and run for the main doors. "What was she talking about? I don't understand."

"She's yours. You should have some idea what you did." Lisa pulled out a tissue from her purse and dabbed at the cut on his bottom lip.

"Professor? Are you all right?" A third year student smirked and elbowed his companion. "Sure looks like you messed up."

"You are going to be late for class," he muttered, looking over the railing again. "Lisa? What did I do?"

"No class today, Professor." The young man walked over and peered over the railing with him. "Some temper, hey?"

"Yeah, I guess." Richard looked at the youth and then stood up looking at his sister-in-law. "Lisa, I have no idea what happened."

"Yep, they are all the same, hey Professor?" The student shook his head and walked over to his friend. "Flowers may help."

His friend bent over, picked up the ring from the floor, and stepped forward to hand it to Richard. "Sure glad she's not mad at me. I have a lesson with her once a week. She is a strange one, wouldn't trust her."

Richard and Lisa watched them walk off then Lisa turned to him. "He's right. Try flowers."

"Flowers? For what?" He gaped at her, then peeked over the railing again. "I don't know what I am apologizing for."

"Get used to it." She smirked at him then took his arm, pulling him back into his office.

He waited an hour before following her. An hour was long enough for the edge to fall off her anger and soon enough that she would still know he was concerned. He rubbed his jaw and winced at the pain when he touched the joint at the side of his face.

He left full of advice of the type of flower, the fullness of the blooms and the colour he should buy. He was not aware that even offering an apology for something he was not sure he had done could be so complicated. Nor had he known how hard it would be to find what he needed on a snowy Christmas Eve.

"Jake!" he shouted from the front door when he did not see the shopkeeper at his usual place. "I need help."

"Hi, Professor, sorry. I was on the phone to my Mum. Christmas and all." He smiled meekly and walked up to the counter.

"Jake, I need flowers and have no idea where to get them. The florist over on ninth closed at three and the market down on first doesn't carry them."

"Real flowers? I don't know, Professor. All we have are those chocolate things on sticks."

"Show me." Richard looked around and saw a vase full of chocolate shaped roses on top of long green wood sticks with plastic leaves glued on them. "Bloody hell, man, who would buy those?"

"You." Jake smirked and counted out an even dozen. He wrapped them in a cone made from newspaper and handed them to the stricken man.

"I have that makeup women put on their faces to cover up pimples. It may hide that hand mark." Jake fought not to laugh. "Vickie, right?"

"Right, Vickie."

"Ya know, Professor, maybe I shouldn't say anything but, I don't know." He bit his lip and looked at Richard. "She is real nice, don't get me wrong, but something is wrong there. I can't put my finger on it but she is just a little off."

"Off?" Richard wrinkled his brow and looked at Jake hard.

"Maybe it's just me, but have you seen that tall guy, always wears black? Always hanging around?"

"He is her old teacher. Says he's from someplace up in Scotland, Professor or something."

"Scotland? Accent's all wrong," Jake said. "Anyway, he is here a lot. Watches her, he does. Just stands back and watches all the time. Maybe once a month I've seen him since she's been here, sometimes more."

Richard picked up the roses and threw his money on the counter. "Thanks for the... roses. I sure everything will be fine. He called himself Professor, maybe he has business up at the University."

"No, not that one. Don't even think he is a real Professor. He has a strange tattoo on his arm. Saw it once when he was reaching for something off that back shelf over there, and he dresses all wrong. Like one of those Goth kids down in London. Like I said, it's nothing but it is odd all the same."

Richard took up the chocolate roses and walked up the hill, thinking about what Jake had said. He wondered who this man he had once met was, and remembered how she would not talk of her past. He felt a slow flush as he realized she could be making a fool of him. He didn't want to believe it. Looking up to her window as he approached the apartment, he prayed he was wrong.

Richard was ready to knock when he heard angry voices coming from her apartment. He debated if he should go in, tempted to stand at the door and listen. Then remembering her face on the stairs and her incoherent words, and Jake's warning, he brought up his fist and pounded loudly on the door.

Hermione opened the door and stepped into the hallway, looking quickly over her shoulder. "What do you want, Richard?"

"I think we need to talk." He frowned down at her and grabbed her shoulders. "You need to tell me what is going on."

"No, not now. I need to think, Richard. I need time."

"Year's up, Vic," he said softly so his voice would not carry into the room behind her. "I leave in two weeks. I have given my notice, and my lease is up."

She twisted her hands together and looked back over her shoulder again. She turned to him and saw her hand print on his face, and with a gasp, her hand went up to his cheek.

"I didn't mean it." Her eyes started to tear up. "I mean I did hit you, but... I was wrong. I thought you... I remembered... oh gods, Richard, not now."

"Why is he here?"

"I can't tell you that. You have to trust me, please."

"I trust you, Vic, I expect you to trust me." He tipped up her chin, making her look at him. "I love you, you know."

She looked at his face and suddenly started to giggle. "You look stupid with my hand print."

"I feel stupid," he said with a smirk. "I bought you these. Now tell me how stupid I look."

She took the chocolate roses and tried to suppress a snort of laughter. "This has to be the worst gift I have ever received. I love them."

She looked up at him and tried to smile before looking back at the door.

"My bother comes home, sends his wife to collect me for lunch and I am the one to offer an apology. Woman, you make me crazy." He laughed and leaned down to kiss her softly. "Forgiven?"

She nodded her head and giggled. "I guess so, but I have no idea for what. I can't think right now. There's too much, too much to think about."

"Would it be wrong of me to ask you what happened back there?" He raised an eyebrow and looked at her. "I mean, I think I understand about Lisa, but I didn't pay your tuition. You said you had it covered. Vic, if you are having financial problems just tell me. I can help, I told you that."

"I thought you had interfered and gotten information on my account. I told you I know I was wrong."

"Would it have mattered if I had? Why would it make you so angry?"

"I... it reminds me ... I just can't accept things like that, it makes me just feel wrong. Like you are buying me or something."

"You always have a problem accepting things. Including me, don't you? Why can't you just believe I am here because I want to be?"

"Richard, not now. We can talk later. Tonight, after he leaves."

"Who is he, Vickie? I have a right to know. This story of an old teacher doesn't fit." He scowled at her, prepared to hear what he thought she would say of old lovers visiting, or new ones coming to her.

She looked back over her shoulder to her door. "He is just someone I know from way back. We were just having a discussion."

"I don't want to finish this in the hallway, and I know this is more than a discussion. I won't lose you like this, Vickie. If you don't want me here then say it, but not like this. Don't lie to me. Don't tell me he is nothing if he's not."

"Gods, Richard, no." She reached for him only to have him hold her wrist and shake his head at her.

"Tell me Vickie, tell me who he is."

"No one important, Richard. He is no one. Just an old teacher like I said."

"Then you won't mind if I go in."

"I don't mind, but it's not a good time is all. Next time maybe, but not now."

He reached behind her and opened the door. "No, Vickie. Now."

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Minerva was pacing her office, something she found herself doing whenever Severus left to see Hermione. She was worried that he had taken it on himself to pay the girl's tuition. She knew Hermione was fiercely proud and wanted to be as equally independent. She could almost hear the fight they would have if Hermione found out, and if the lateness of Severus' return was any indication, she already knew.

Minerva flicked her wand at the teapot, sending it back to the kitchen, and waited for a fresh pot. She looked out to the grounds and sighed, seeing only Neville and Luna walking up to the castle. She smiled at the way Neville kept his arm around Luna as if she were fragile and would lose the child she carried merely by walking. Minerva had already placed her name in the staff's betting pool on which curriculum the child would take.

She smiled and nodded to herself, thinking how pleased Hermione would be. The four houses now were divided by years. The first and second Years were housed in the old Hufflepuff chambers while the third and fourth found themselves in Ravenclaw. The fifth and sixth years moved to Gryffindor, and the seventh lived in the old Slytherin chambers in the dungeons. Gone were house points, and the house's colours reflected in the robes now only showed the year of completion.

Minerva waved the house-elf toward the table with the tea tray, and poured herself a cup, wondering how Severus would have benefited from not living with only Slytherins. She thought back over the years and remembered how young Crabbe had been lost in the fire, and thought if he had other options than to follow Draco perhaps he too would still be alive.

She shook her head and sighed, thinking of Draco. He still carried guilt that his father had heaped on his shoulders and the boy had crumbled under the weight. She never saw the lad now without a scowl on his face. She needed to speak to Narcissa, she thought. Perhaps she could do something.

She returned to her window and watched, and hoped that at least the two she waited for tonight, still at odds with themselves, could find their peace and both come home.