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10/3/04 03:27 pm![[personal profile]](https://www.dreamwidth.org/img/silk/identity/user.png){kind=small}
minervasoloI have spent three hours online today, not counting time in IT. This is bad. It's because nobody's here! It was just me and Hearn at lunch, so I, uh, abandoned him...
Were you a prefect and head of your dormit'ry
Were you a hockey girl, tennis or gym?
Who was your favourite? Who had a crush on you?
Which were the baths where they taught you to swim?
Extract from Myfanwy, John Betjeman
"Hermione?"
"Oh, god," her hand flutters in front of her mouth, the way it always used to. "David!"
Do I hug her? I mean, I want to, but...
"Oof!" She always did make my decisions for me. But she wasn't really someone who hugged people, before. "Careful!"
"Oh, sorry!" She pulls back, smiling broadly. "I haven't seen you in what feels like years!"
"Perhaps it feels like years because it has been?" I point out gently. "That's what appens when you abandon all your friends for a poncy boarding school." I pout.
"Hogwarts isn't poncy," she says seriously. "Hey, do you want to go and get lunch?"
"Why not?" I shrug. "That internet cafe is still around, though it's sold all of its computers."
"So it's just a cafe."
"Basically, yeah."
We walk in odd silence. I should probably make all these points about how she's changed physically, but that change scares me, slightly. I loved her when they told us we were too young for such feelings. I guess we were.
Her taste in clothes hasn't changed, I notice in triumph. Still those wool tights and knee length skirts and cute cardigans. Not fashionable, but it suits her. When I knew her, before, she dressed the same. It looks like a school uniform, I smile. We didn't go to one of those schools full of preteen girls with shaved lengths and miniskirts and huge heels. Well, I think there were three of them. We were eleven, for god's sake. It's not as though any of us guys noticed.
"I like your top," I say when she notices me staring.
"Thanks," she smiles. My stomach flips. She's seventeen. I'm eighteen. We're old now.
"So," I search for a subject as we sit down, "have you got your A level results yet? What did you take?"
"Oh," she blushes. "I didn't do A levels." What? "We, um, at Hogwarts, since it's in Scotland and all, we do different exams."
It sounds almost plausible, except she's staring at her tea like it spat at her.
"Well, have you got your results?" I ask pleasantly.
"Oh, not yet. I'm really nervous," she says solemnly. "What about you?"
"Oh, two Bs and a C."
"Oh, David," she fusses. "You really should have applied yourself."
Oi, I think, I was happy with those results. I'd forgotten that you could be like this.
"Have you picked a University? Well, what I mean is, have you chosen between Oxford and Cmabridge?" I tease.
If the A levels made her look shifty, now she looks like she's got a dead body in her bag.
"I'm... I'm not going to University," she admits. Then she looks up, meeting my eyes with a determination that makes me wonder if she's so scared she's forcing herself to do this. "I've got a job offer already. Working as a, um, as part of the Ministry of Defense."
Like shit you have, I think angrily. What have you been doing for the past seven years?
"Well," I say, a bit more frostily than I intend, "I'm going to Exeter. To do Psychology."
"Oh, that's wonderful!" she enthuses. She knows I think she's lying. "Oh, how's Anna?"
"Absolutely fine," I force a smile. "She's doing her GCSEs next year. If you're around, I'm sure she's appreciate some tutoring help. Her German teacher is Spanish, which pretty much sums it up."
"Oh dear," she smiles. "Well, I'll do what I can, but I didn't take German. I'm not sure if I'll even be living the area."
"That's a pity."
I've really missed you, and hte others," she blurts out suddenly. "I know I should have called, or written, or something, but so much has been going on. My friend Harry has been wrapped up in this whole big thing, you see, and I've had to be there for him, and he's been going through a really really tough time. Actually, it's kinda been a tough time al round," she says, a touch of accusation in her voice. Well, I'm sorry I don't understand, Hermione dearest, but perhaps if you stopped lying and EXPLAINED? "Each Summer just got busier than the last," she sighs. "I've been practically living with the Weasley's, who have the worst grasp of Mug- modern technology of anyone I've ever met."
"We've all been busy," I tell her. "Dad died last year."
"Fuck, no!"
That's the first time I've ever heard her swear. It looks like it's the first time she's heard it too, because she's just covered her mouth like a child and is staring around, checking no one heard. She's gone pink. I'd forgotten how endearing that was.
"Oh, I'm so sorry," she mumbles. She looks absolutely mortified. I wave it away.
"You didn't know," I mumble back, blushing as well. "Look, it's okay. I shouldn't have just sprung that on you."
"No, I should have, oh, I should have called. What kind of friend am I?" She pinches the bridge of her nose. Her eyes harden. She's got lines around them, I notice, like she's been frowning a lot. How can a seventeen year old get lines? "I'm sorry, David. I really have been wrapped up in a lot. things have changed."
"And you've changed," I finish for her. "I wish you hadn't gone to this Hogwarts place. It hasn't done you any good. Ther Hermione I knew was dreaming about Oxford when hse was eight. She's taken her first GCSE before she left Junior School. And now you're not even going to University?"
"I'm living in a different world now," she tells me. It sounds like the first truth she's told me. "I ought to go now. I have to meet people, I'm afraid."
"You're new friends?" I ask coolly.
"Yes," she replies in the same tone. "I wish I could introduce you to them, but I don't think you'd get along." She pauses in hte middel of standing up and scrabbles in her bag. "Look, this is my new address. Write to me. I don't want to lose touch again."
I grimace a smile. She doesn't want any more bombshells dropped on her. "Thanks," I say emptily. "I'll be sure to."
"I couldn't help it," she tels me desperately. "If I could make you understand... No," she sighs. "You wouldn't beleive me."
And that's what she leaves me with. I can't believe I loved a girl who could be so trite.
That didn't come out as well as I hoped it would. Oh well. LJ fics are never my forte.
Were you a prefect and head of your dormit'ry
Were you a hockey girl, tennis or gym?
Who was your favourite? Who had a crush on you?
Which were the baths where they taught you to swim?
Extract from Myfanwy, John Betjeman
"Hermione?"
"Oh, god," her hand flutters in front of her mouth, the way it always used to. "David!"
Do I hug her? I mean, I want to, but...
"Oof!" She always did make my decisions for me. But she wasn't really someone who hugged people, before. "Careful!"
"Oh, sorry!" She pulls back, smiling broadly. "I haven't seen you in what feels like years!"
"Perhaps it feels like years because it has been?" I point out gently. "That's what appens when you abandon all your friends for a poncy boarding school." I pout.
"Hogwarts isn't poncy," she says seriously. "Hey, do you want to go and get lunch?"
"Why not?" I shrug. "That internet cafe is still around, though it's sold all of its computers."
"So it's just a cafe."
"Basically, yeah."
We walk in odd silence. I should probably make all these points about how she's changed physically, but that change scares me, slightly. I loved her when they told us we were too young for such feelings. I guess we were.
Her taste in clothes hasn't changed, I notice in triumph. Still those wool tights and knee length skirts and cute cardigans. Not fashionable, but it suits her. When I knew her, before, she dressed the same. It looks like a school uniform, I smile. We didn't go to one of those schools full of preteen girls with shaved lengths and miniskirts and huge heels. Well, I think there were three of them. We were eleven, for god's sake. It's not as though any of us guys noticed.
"I like your top," I say when she notices me staring.
"Thanks," she smiles. My stomach flips. She's seventeen. I'm eighteen. We're old now.
"So," I search for a subject as we sit down, "have you got your A level results yet? What did you take?"
"Oh," she blushes. "I didn't do A levels." What? "We, um, at Hogwarts, since it's in Scotland and all, we do different exams."
It sounds almost plausible, except she's staring at her tea like it spat at her.
"Well, have you got your results?" I ask pleasantly.
"Oh, not yet. I'm really nervous," she says solemnly. "What about you?"
"Oh, two Bs and a C."
"Oh, David," she fusses. "You really should have applied yourself."
Oi, I think, I was happy with those results. I'd forgotten that you could be like this.
"Have you picked a University? Well, what I mean is, have you chosen between Oxford and Cmabridge?" I tease.
If the A levels made her look shifty, now she looks like she's got a dead body in her bag.
"I'm... I'm not going to University," she admits. Then she looks up, meeting my eyes with a determination that makes me wonder if she's so scared she's forcing herself to do this. "I've got a job offer already. Working as a, um, as part of the Ministry of Defense."
Like shit you have, I think angrily. What have you been doing for the past seven years?
"Well," I say, a bit more frostily than I intend, "I'm going to Exeter. To do Psychology."
"Oh, that's wonderful!" she enthuses. She knows I think she's lying. "Oh, how's Anna?"
"Absolutely fine," I force a smile. "She's doing her GCSEs next year. If you're around, I'm sure she's appreciate some tutoring help. Her German teacher is Spanish, which pretty much sums it up."
"Oh dear," she smiles. "Well, I'll do what I can, but I didn't take German. I'm not sure if I'll even be living the area."
"That's a pity."
I've really missed you, and hte others," she blurts out suddenly. "I know I should have called, or written, or something, but so much has been going on. My friend Harry has been wrapped up in this whole big thing, you see, and I've had to be there for him, and he's been going through a really really tough time. Actually, it's kinda been a tough time al round," she says, a touch of accusation in her voice. Well, I'm sorry I don't understand, Hermione dearest, but perhaps if you stopped lying and EXPLAINED? "Each Summer just got busier than the last," she sighs. "I've been practically living with the Weasley's, who have the worst grasp of Mug- modern technology of anyone I've ever met."
"We've all been busy," I tell her. "Dad died last year."
"Fuck, no!"
That's the first time I've ever heard her swear. It looks like it's the first time she's heard it too, because she's just covered her mouth like a child and is staring around, checking no one heard. She's gone pink. I'd forgotten how endearing that was.
"Oh, I'm so sorry," she mumbles. She looks absolutely mortified. I wave it away.
"You didn't know," I mumble back, blushing as well. "Look, it's okay. I shouldn't have just sprung that on you."
"No, I should have, oh, I should have called. What kind of friend am I?" She pinches the bridge of her nose. Her eyes harden. She's got lines around them, I notice, like she's been frowning a lot. How can a seventeen year old get lines? "I'm sorry, David. I really have been wrapped up in a lot. things have changed."
"And you've changed," I finish for her. "I wish you hadn't gone to this Hogwarts place. It hasn't done you any good. Ther Hermione I knew was dreaming about Oxford when hse was eight. She's taken her first GCSE before she left Junior School. And now you're not even going to University?"
"I'm living in a different world now," she tells me. It sounds like the first truth she's told me. "I ought to go now. I have to meet people, I'm afraid."
"You're new friends?" I ask coolly.
"Yes," she replies in the same tone. "I wish I could introduce you to them, but I don't think you'd get along." She pauses in hte middel of standing up and scrabbles in her bag. "Look, this is my new address. Write to me. I don't want to lose touch again."
I grimace a smile. She doesn't want any more bombshells dropped on her. "Thanks," I say emptily. "I'll be sure to."
"I couldn't help it," she tels me desperately. "If I could make you understand... No," she sighs. "You wouldn't beleive me."
And that's what she leaves me with. I can't believe I loved a girl who could be so trite.
That didn't come out as well as I hoped it would. Oh well. LJ fics are never my forte.
