an incomplete guide to grief

four: strangers

Hermione didn't think things would go back to how they were prior to the war. But three weeks into the semester, she was even more convinced of this fact than she ever had been before. 'Quiet' was never a word she would use to describe the atmosphere inside of the castle. There was always life, and warmth, and although, on the surface, it looked quite the same as always, Hermione realized Hogwarts was merely a semblance of what it used to be.

Parvati Patil had a hard time coming near the Great Hall because it was there, Hermione heard, that she had seen Lavender Brown get killed. Luna startled at every loud sound. Malfoy never spoke and Ginny couldn't bear to sleep in her own bed.

Voldemort was gone, and the remaining Death-Eaters were either behind bars or too ashamed to step outside of their houses for fear of being ridiculed and targeted on the streets. Everything they had built and stood for was completely diminished. The war was over and all it left was bruises and broken bones.

Victory never tasted so sour.

The Head Boy and Girl were meant to convene, prior to their meeting with the headmistress, to go over their report. Not unsurprisingly, Malfoy never showed up. Hermione waited in the library, where they conducted prefect meetings, one leg folded atop the other as she continually watched the clock and hoped that the Slytherin would arrive. As the silver hands moved towards 4:00, Hermione exhaled in defeat and stood up, holding a beige folder against her chest. She found it unworthy to wait longer and disliked the idea of being late to McGonagall's meeting, with or without Malfoy.

"Ms. Granger, pleased to see you," said McGonogall as Hermione was let into the office. She saw with a jarring displeasure that Malfoy was already seated in front of the desk, hands clasped as he simply quirked an eyebrow in her direction before turning away.

Hermione swallowed the angry lump in her throat, unable to tear her gaze away from the back of Malfoy's infuriatingly platinum head. "I was under the impression," she muttered to McGonagall, eyes still trained on Malfoy. "That we were supposed to come together."

"I had left that option up to the two of you," said McGonagall, her pointed chin resting atop her two clasped hands. "Perhaps, I was wrong to assume it could have been dealt with outside of this office."

"It's not a problem," Hermione quickly replied, seating herself in the empty chair with a smile thrown upon her tight lips. "Must have been a..." she shot an annoyed look at Malfoy who was studying his fingernails with a show of great interest. "Miscommunication."

The meeting was similar to her prefect meetings except the stress was increased tenfold by McGonagall's presence. Malfoy hardly addressed her and only spoke when spoken to. He had his own folder and it irritated her to the very core because they were supposed to have one folder of joint notes. Every now and then, McGonagall would ask a question and a brief silence would strike the office, and just as Hermione opened her mouth to speak, inhaling a small breath, Malfoy would say an answer before the words could come out. She felt too kind when she brushed it off as unintentional the first time. But one incident became three and Hermione had to stiffen up so McGonagall would not see her trembling all over with fury.

When the meeting ended, McGonagall asked Hermione to stay behind as Malfoy trudged out of the room. With his absence, Hermione felt faint with dwindling anger.

"Mr. Malfoy has become a boy of little words," McGonagall remarked, rearranging little trinkets on her desk. "And it is no surprise, considering the horrors you've all had to endure. But I also cannot blame you for any ill feelings you may have towards him. If your discomfort continues, I truly do not mind asking that he step down from the Head Boy position. We have many other students who are more than qualified to replace him."