Flinch

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How long can a girl be shackled to you?

How long before my dignity is reclaimed?

How long can a girl stay haunted by you?

Soon I'll grow up and I won't even flinch at your name

- "Flinch" by Alanis Morisette

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Hermione gasped at the familiar sight of long, ginger-colored locks at the end of the hallway, sending her fumbling to reopen her office door even as she tried to pretend that she'd merely forgotten something inside. After the third failed attempt to turn the handle due to her blurring vision, she gave up all attempts at dignity and made a run towards the empty stairwell where she stood panting and more than a little annoyed with herself.

What was it about heartbreak that continued to fester and bleed even years after the initial gouging?

Sometimes it was hard to believe that the whole thing started out innocuously enough, with dating Bill almost incidental to the fact that she simply liked being needed. Hermione could still clearly remember accusing Harry of having a 'saving people thing' in fifth year, knowing full well that she was worse than him even as the suggestion escaped her lips. It was just that she was so used to having someone rely on her, starting as early as primary school after the first time she'd seen her father make her mother cry. During those years at Hogwarts it had been Harry who needed her, even if sometimes only for the knowledge that somebody believed in him. And there were the elves, of course. But mostly it was Harry.

After the war ended, Hermione found herself at a loss with what to do. Wizards and witches had begun to recognize other magical creatures as something other than inferior beings during the war, and so apart from smoothing over the occasional minor gaffe, they really didn't need her to champion their cause. And certainly Harry didn't need her anymore once he was free to pursue the life he'd put on hold for the sake of the war effort.

Though Hermione would never admit it aloud--especially since a loss of normal teenaged worries seemed a petty thing to regret when sacrificed in favor of such life-changing events--she couldn't help but resent her role in the war just a little bit for the things she'd missed; for while she still struggled with the differences between girlish dreams of being swept off her feet by a suitor riding a white horse and the reality of men whose idea of romance consisted of buying her a drink and trying to not quite be so obvious whilst staring at her chest, a good number of her year mates were already dealing with weddings and children. For once, Hermione has been the one struggling to catch up.

She'd just about resigned herself to spinsterhood when she literally ran into Bill at Flourish and Botts after they both reached for the last copy of The Rebellions: From the Goblins' Perspective. He'd been everything she thought she'd wanted: older, smart, successful in his line of work, and so well-read that she could talk to him about anything.

Initially, he'd been reluctant about pursuing a relationship. He was still fresh off a divorce and believed it was too much baggage for a girl barely twenty to handle; however, in Hermione's eyes it only made him more perfect. For six months, Hermione allowed herself to dream of happily-ever-afters complete with holidays by the sea and children with her eyes and his smile.

Then one Sunday afternoon, whilst window shopping at Charing Cross, they ran into Bill's ex-wife at a pedestrian crossing. She'd been everything Hermione could never be: blonde, beautiful, and no less fragile than a fairy's gossamer wings.

"Today I realized what a mistake we made in separating," he said later that evening as Hermione numbly watched him pack away all his things that had accumulated in her apartment. "She still needs me. Women like you... you're strong enough to deal with anything. But Fleur... she's... she's the sort who would fall apart if there wasn't anyone to look after her. You do understand, don't you?"

Even as she inwardly raged at him, Hermione was fully aware that she looked exactly like the kind of woman he'd categorized her to be; watching with dry eyes as he marched out the door and her life without another glance back. But despite what Bill may have thought, being strong didn't make her invincible; and just because she could survive just fine without him didn't mean it didn't hurt.

The End

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