This Subdued Fire

I had a bit of criticism for this chapter, which I think is somewhat deserved. But things to think about as you\'re reading: 1. Hermione hasn\'t been around or talking to Draco. No contact = less non-verbal communication. 2. She\'s all bottled up inside, and even after a certain event takes place, she\'s struggling to find happiness, even if it\'s artificial. 3. I drew on my own experiences to write this chapter and the next (which is still simmering in my brain), knowing to what depths grief can take you. Sometimes, you have to hit bottom before you can climb back up.
That being said...*Protego Litigatio!* Don\'t sue me. Don\'t own them, never have, never will. Except for OC\'s but no one wants them.
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\"No, but I forgot something. I forgot to get your phone number.\" The man smiled cheekily at her and Hermione\'s guard was down and she laughed in genuine merriment.

\"I must admit, that\'s one of the lamest lines I\'ve ever heard,\" she replied through her giggles.

\"Ah, but I made you laugh and here we are talking. An admirable result.\" Mr.Tall-Dark-and Grinning stuck out his hand. \"Simon Withers, at your service.\"

\"Hermione Granger.\" She took Simon\'s hand and gave it a firm shake.

\"Let me take those for you, Miss Granger.\" He scooped the boxes from her grasp. \"Where\'s your car?\"

\"Right this way.\" Hermione led the way to the green automobile.

\"So, about your phone number?\"

\"I don\'t give it out. Sorry.\"

\"Aw, that\'s alright. But you can take mine instead.\" He put the boxes into the opened trunk and pulled out a business card. \"That\'s my Dad\'s auto repair shop. I work there during my holidays away from Uni. Promise me you\'ll use it?\"

\"Not promising anything, but I\'ll try.\" Truth be told, she found Simon\'s open approach charming and infectious.

\"Ah, that\'s all a lad can ask for, innit?\" He smiled at her once again.

\"Excuse me, but I must be leaving.\" Hermione turned away, sticking the card into her pants pocket and getting into the car.

Simon knocked on the window and Hermione rolled it down. \"Oi, there\'s a club that me and my mates sometimes go to. We\'ll be there tonight if you want to meet me there.\" He rattled off the name of the club and the address and then left with a cheery wave.

Hermione smiled, but didn\'t really give it a second thought and drove off. Pulling back into the garage, she took a spin through the snow covered garden and pulled out her wand and melted the snow on the paths.

Going back through the kitchens and into the living room, it suddenly became apparent to her that it was nearly as cold inside as out, having left the windows open all night. Light snow from the blizzard lay on the floor, melting lazily. Hermione waved a hand and the windows shut themselves. Her reaction to the subconscious act of wandless magic was swift. She began mentally beating herself up for it, becoming angry and sad all at once. Hermione let the anger carry her up the stairs to her parents bedroom, which was warded off.

She pulled out her wand and broke the wards. For a brief moment she saw her parents\' bodies on the soft creme sheets, the Dark Mark traced in their blood on the wall. Hermione closed her eyes tightly and when she opened them thage age was gone. She could still smell the sweet-sick scent of blood and the overwhelmingly powerful scent of death that clung to the room. As Lydia had done to the living room the night before, so did her granddaughter to the bedroom. Hermione threw open all the windows, letting in the slightly sooty London tinged air.

Feeling resolute, she opened the closet door and began pulling out items to sort and give away to charity. *\"Accio boxes!\"* The boxes came soaring up the stairs and around the corner into the room. Just as they were about to smack Hermione in the face she flicked her wand at them. *\"Arreto!\"* The stopped and dropped to the floor with a thump.

She flicked her wand over her father\'s side of the closet and the clothes began removing themselves from their hangers and shelves and folded themselves into the boxes. Hermione decided to go through her mother\'s things by hand. Though Clarice lived and worked in England, side by side with her English husband and managed to produce a thoroughly English daughter, there was still quite a bit of French left in her. Clarice loved beautiful, well made clothes. Mother often told daughter that it was against French law to wear anything but couture. Hermione thought her mother was being rather silly in that regard, but as she\'d grown older, Hermione began to appreciate the sentiment. Sometimes, there was nothing better than to put on a perfectly fitting pair of trousers.

Hermione pulled out dresses and suits by Dior, Versace, Balenciaga, Yves Saint Laurent and others. She even unearthed a little worn pink silk crepe dress that bore the label of Madeleine Vionnet. The dress was kept in a plastic bag and was in very good condition. Hermione laid it on the bed along with the small pile of things she\'d kept of her father\'s.

Way back in the closet was her mother\'s wedding gown. Hermione smiled. How like her mother to keep her gown in a place where she could look at it always. Clarice wasn\'t a woman for frills or lots of lace and beading and her wedding gown reflected her tastes. It was a smooth white satin creation, sleeveless and off the shoulder ending in a sweetheart neckline. There were small discreet crystal beads dotting the wide sweep of the skirt and train. Hermione resisted the urge to try the gown on as she looked at it. She put the gown back into its case and closed it.

The rest of the clothes Hermione flicked her wand over and they, too, began folding and sorting themselves into boxes. She went over to the dresser and started tossing all manner of personal items into the discard box: aftershaves, lotions, deodorants. Her mother\'s bottle of Shalimar she kept, along with the Opium and L\'air du Temps. She opened the bottle of L\'air du Temps and dabbed a little on her wrist. Hermione\'s mother often regarded the light perfume as her signature scent. The smell brought back a ton of memories and Hermione pulled her wrist away and tapped it with her wand. *\"Scourgify.\"*

Nothing but the smell of skin remained and Hermione was able to get on with things. She went through her parents\' jewelry and lamented the fact that Clarice and Peter weren\'t ever going to be able to wear some of the pieces ever again. Clarice had long ago exchanged her engagement solitaire for a three-stoned anniversary band, which she had been buried with.

Hermione slipped the ring on. It was hanging off her thin finger, but the diamond sparkled with subdued fire against her skin. Hermione took it off and collected the other pieces of jewelry she\'d set aside and put the rest into a box along with their respective cases.

She finished with the dreaded bedroom in due time and began work on the rest of the house. Hermione called the movers and made an appointment for them to come and get some of the furniture and take it to the charities. She ned ned the bathrooms and the spare bedroom with a quick Cleaning charm. All the accoutrements of each were winging their way into boxes for discarding or Reducing for transport back to Hogwarts.

She walked into her room and memories assailed her. There were pictures and postcards and ribbons and trophies scattered about the room. A junior chemistry set sat on a window sill. A computer was on the desk, along with numerous papers and books. The bed was neatly made with a plaid duvet and coordinating burgundy pillows. Hermione pulled out her wand and Reduced every single item in the room, furniture excluded. She tucked the miniaturized pieces into a single medium sized box and looked around at the now empty room. She snorted derisively. (A lifetime of memories all tucked away into one tiny box. Only in the wizarding world.)

She checked on the progress of the boxes in the other rooms upstais and found them all filled, sealed and marked for their various destinations. It was now after six p.m. and the phone rang, quite unexpectedly. Hermione went back down into the kitchen and picked up the extension. It was Lydia calling to check on her granddaughter. The older woman inquired if Hermione was alright (yes) and if she felt need of any company (no). And did Hermione hear the blizzard last night (yes) and how did she make out in the rattling and howling of the storm? (Fine, Gram.)

Lydia hung up but not before reminding Hermione to come home for Christmas dinner and such. She didn\'t want her eldest grandchild to be isolated for too long, adult or not. Hermione smiled faintly at the old woman\'s fretting. Hanging up with an affirmation to Lydia that yes, she would be there for Christmas, Hene cne contemplated what to do next. The kitchen, living room, dining room and den still needed to be done but it was already dark and going though all the upstairs things had taken its toll on her.

Hermione got up from the barstool she had been sitting on during her conversation with Lydia and went into the living room. She picked up her coat and was rummaging around in the various pockets for her cigs when her fingers came across a piece of stiff vellum. It was Simon\'s card. Hermione drew it and the packet of cigs out. Lighting one of the clove scented cancer sticks, she studied Simon\'s card idly.

The creme coloured vellum was printed in a bright red with the words \"Withers\' Auto Body, You Break \'Em, We Fix \'Em\" and a picture of a crumply looking auto beneath. There were several numbers under that, one with Simon\'s name next to it. Hermione grinned as she thought about the handsome brown-haired blue-eyed boy with the open smile. It hadn a n a long time since she\'d felt anything. Feeling determined, Hermione went upstairs into her room and opened up the box full of tiny articles.

She selected a pair of high-heeled black boots, a rather small skirt and a red collared shirt. Feeling extra saucy, she also picked out a pair of black fishnet stockings. Hermione flicked her wand over the small bits of clothing. *\"Engorgio!\"*

They returned to their normal state. And she eagerly chucked off her sweats and tee. Tapping herself, saying a quick Cleaning charm, got into them. Hermione looked at her hair and decided to just leave it. It curled and twined wildly about her head and she thought it looked rather inviting. For some reason, she wanted to be inviting to Simon. A nice, normal non-magical boy.

Hermione went downstairs, gathered up her coat, keys, cigs and left the house, driving to the club Simon said he and his friends would be at. The doorman gave her a swift once-over before letting her in. The music was loud and thumping. Strobe lights flashed everywhere. She went looking for Simon but as luck would have it, he found her.

\"Oi. It\'s the girl from the greengrocer\'s. Didn\'t think you would show up.\"

Hermione grinned cheekily. \"I was feeling a bit reckless.\"

\"Were you now?\"

\"Yes.\" She yelled over the music and shrugged her coat off, revealing her ensemble beneath. Hermione grinned even broader at the look on Simon\'s face as he took in her fishnet clad thighs emerging from her skirt.

\"I can see that! Do you like to party?\"

Hermione, not reading any hidden meaning into it responded in the affirmative and he led her into a booth where his mates were reclining with various girls.

\"Oi, everybody, this is Hermione, Hermione this is everybody.\" Everyone raised a glass to her and she nodded politely.

They sat down and started to talk. Hermione found Simon to funny and engaging. He was studying mechanical engineering. \"Yeah, so I can design and make engines, not just repair them!\" He yelled over the pummelling music. \"So what are you doing?\"

Hermione told him she was studying to be a chemist, which was the closest thing to being a Potions Mistress in the Muggle world that she could think of. Simon was suitably impressed. \"It\'s fate! We\'re both in science!\"

Hermione nodded. Simon pulled out two cellophane bags full of something and a box of rolling papers. Everyone in the booth perked up considerably. \"I\'ve brought the goodies, my children. Poll was able to get us some good graft this time. Really effing pure.\"

Simon began an assembly line of sorts with the paraphenalia. Four little sheets of paper, followed by neat lines of some sort of crumply looking vegetation across which a liberal dusting of white powder followed. Hermione was horrified and curious at the same time. The horror won out because she asked, \"Is that...marijuana?!\"

\"Right in one, luv. And as an added bonus, a little junk to keep us feeling happy about the world.\"

Hermione\'s mind raced. (Junk...holy mother...he means heroin. I can\'t take any fucking heroin!)
(Why not?) A small part of her brain asked. (That Dreamless Sleep has quite a bit crushed poppy in it. Himalayan Poppy at that.)

(That\'s different!) she thought indignantly. (Purely for medicinal purposes!)

(Bullshit, Hermione and you know it. Some nights saw you practically on edge before you got your hit.)

(Do you have to be so bloody honest?

(If I won\'t be honest with you, who will?)

(No one.)

(So you\'re giving me the green light on this?)

(That\'s up to you.)

(Bloody conscience. Always leaving you hanging when you need their adv)
)

Hermione turned back to Simon. \"I don\'t think I can do any of that.\"

\"What? Mummy and Daddy wouldn\'t like it?\"

\"It\'s not that, it\'s just -\"

\"Look, luv.\" He gave her a heavy look as he licked the joint closed. \"I asked if you partied, you said yeah. Now, either you will or you won\'t. If so, cool, if no, leave so we can get on with it.\"

Hermione was uneasy about the situation but she didn\'t want to leave and frankly, her curiousity was just too great. \"I\'m down for whatever, Simon.\"

His boyish face split in a wide grin. \"That\'s the st, lt, luv.\" He put the spliff to his lips and lit it, taking a deep inhale.

Hermione watched fascinated as she saw the physical evidence of the chemicals hitting his system. His eyes grew languorous and his bright smile mellowed.Simon passed it to her. Hermione took a hit and felt it all the way to her toes. She blinked slowly and felt every feeling of nausea, anxiety, tiredness, terror, horror and anger and rage roll away to be replaced by the most contented feeling of pleasure she\'d ever had. It was like what she felt when Malfoy had done that Gratification charm on her. But this time she didn\'t want to faint with it. The feeling was mellow enough to just keep rolling in and out, ebbing and flowing like a soft warm wave.

The next inhale was something different.

This time, the rush of endorphins and serotonin hit like a knife to the heart and Hermione was plunged straight down into a surfeit of extraordinary pleasure so acute she thought she\'d float right off the ground. She surreptitiously felt beneath her and not surprisingly, she was about a inch or two off of the leather banquette.

Simon looked at her with a cocky grin. \"It\'s good, yeah?\"

\"Fanfuckingtastic,\" she replied with a sated smile.

Simon burst out laughing. \"Would you like to dance?\"

\"Yes!\" Hermione and Simon got up from the booth and joined the melee of bodies on the dance floor.

Simon pulled Hermione close and they began moving in time with the thumping bass. Hermione couldn\'t ever remember feeling so good in her life. Caught up in the music and the lights and high, Hermione pulled Simon tight to her and kissed him. Surprised but recovering quickly, he kissed her back. She sent her tongue darting into his mouth. Emboldened, he slid a leg between her fishnet covered thighs and they writhed in time to the beat.

Hermione felt all the pleasure coursing through her veins sharpen and coalesce into one spot. She let out an unintentional moan against Simon\'s mouth. The gorgeous brown-haired boy deftly manoeuvered them to a hidden corner. The flashing lights faded and Hermione could feel the deep beat thumping the wall she was up against. The two kissed hard, mouths grinding along with other, lower body parts.

Simon slid his hand from her waist to her skirt and pulled it up. Hermione wrapped her legs around his waist. Simon nearly went mad from the sensation of warm woman under his fingers. He pressed her harder against the flimsy wall and opened her shirt. He covered the tops of her breasts above her bra with kisses. Hermione grew tired of this soon and slipped her hot little fingers into his pants.

\"Fuck me,\" she breathed.

\"Will do.\" He gave her a naughty grin and ripped her knickers off.

As Simon slid inside, Hermione gave a lust-filled hiss. \"That\'s it, luv,\" she sighed.

He began to thrust and Hermione fell away into a land of drug-and-sex induced pleasures.
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The next morning Hermione awoke on the green leather sofa, head pounding. She blinked hard, wincing at the bright sun reflected off of the snow piled outside. Her tongue felt swollen and furry. The whole inside of her mouth tasted and felt like a wool sweater. She didn\'t want to believe that she\'d done what she\'d done with Simon last night. But the evidence was there in the twinge between her thighs as she got up from the couch.

The phone rang, giving her an instant headache.

\"Hullo?\" She answered groggily.

\"Darling, it\'s your grandmother. How are you?\" Lydia\'s sprightly voice acted as a whip over Hermione raw edged nerves.

Hermione cleared her throat and moved to the cupboards. She found coffee, to her everlasting relief. \"I\'m alright. How\'re you?\" She moved around making coffee to help clear her head.

\"Fine fine, darling. I don\'t like the way you sound so I\'m going to come \'round and pick you up for lunch and then a bit of shopping, how does that sound?\"

\"Oh, Gram. I really don\'t think-\"

\"Pish-tosh. I won\'t take no for an answer. I will see you in an hour Hermione Granger. Do *not* disappoint me. Tah, darls.\"

\"Bye.\" They hung up. The coffee perked cheerily and Hermione couldn\'t wait for the pot to finish brewing. She got a mug from the cupboard and switched the pot for the cup. Switching them back, she loaded the java up with sugar and creme and took a sip.

When it became apparent that her stomach was not going to reject it, she drank the rest of it down, feeling infinitely better. Then came the realization that Simon still had her knickers. (Damn. How am I supposed to get them back?)

Hermione pulled a face and poured herself another cup of coffee from the now-filled pot. She went into the living room and pulled a benign ensemble of the fair-isle sweater Lydia knitted for her and a pair of jeans. The pounding in her head was too much to bear. Hermione dug around in the couch cushions and pulled her wand out.

*\"Analgesio.\"* She tapped the side of her temple and if the pain didn\'t end completely it was infinitely easier to bear.

Hermione knocked back the rest of the coffee and dragged herself off to the shower where she scrubbed from head to toe. That went a long way towards setting her to rights. She dressed and applied a Drying Charm to her hair. Going back into the bathroom, she applied a bit of makeup so she didn\'t look so deathly. Any kind of restriction on her hair would only make her headache worse so she left it loose.

As she was putting on earrings, the doorbell rang. Hermione went to the door and called out a relatively cheery \"Who is it?\"

\"It\'s your favorite relative!\"

Hermione opened the door eagerly. \"A.J.! When did you get here?\"

A tall dark haired girl with green eyes and Hermione\'s nose and mouth stood on the threshold. Armande Jeannette de Mattieu, Hermione\'s cousin from America had arrived. Armande was the only other magical person in the family. At twenty-two, she\'d already matriculated from Beauxbatons and was now in New Orleans, studying Magical Theory at L\'Universite des Arts Magique. Armande was simply fascinated by Creole magical practices and how the Muggle population of the city, especially it\'s French Quarter residents, were so very immune to reports of strange incidents. They simply shrugged their shoulders and said, \"chere, this is Nawlins\" and went about their business. \"When Grandpere called and told me you were home for Christmas. Sorry about Tante Clarice and Oncle Peter.\"

The two young women hugged, commiserating with one another. \"Now, are you going to let me in or are you going to keep me out here in l\'hiver terrible?\"

\"Forgive my manners.\" Hermione stepped aside and let A.J. in.

\"What manners?\" The dark-haired girl inquired.

\"The ones Tante Renee never got a chance to teach you,\" Hermione replied drily.

A.J. gave Hermione a raspberry and sat down in a cushy chair opposite the sofa. \"So, what\'s on the docket for today? I can\'t stay long, have to be at Grandpere\'s later on to help with the Christmas stuff. And then after that is Epiphany...or you English\'s Twelfth day of Christmas.\"

\"Yes yes, I\'m not totally ignorant. Mother did manage to get me baptized and confirmed. Grandpapa would\'ve had a conniption if she hadn\'t.\"

\"Heretic Anglican.\" A.J. gave Hermione a mock sneer.

\"Better than you idol-worshipping Papists.\" Hermione grinned and the two began giggling. \"Actually, Grandmother and I supposed to go out for lunch and shopping. I suppose I need to buy Christmas presents. Truth be told, I forgot.\"

\"Well, no one can fault you for it. It\'s been a stressful year. Last at school and now with the death of your parents. It\'s a lot to take.\" Hermione and Armande fell silent for a moment. \"Now, that\'s enough of that!\" Armande jumped up from her seat. \"Do I smell coffee?\"

When Lydia arrived and found A.J. visiting with Hermione, she couldn\'t have been more pleased. Hermione was showing more spirit than she had of late. Lydia had begun to wonder if she\'d done the right thing in leaving her granddaughter at that house all alone - especially over the holiday. Not that she could have stopped her, one can\'t stop a witch who has her mind set on something. But seeing Hermione today, her fears were laid to rest. Lydia knew that the girl would always grieve, but perhaps it wouldn\'t stay on the surface for very much longer.

Lydia took both girls out for lunch and a bit of shopping. Hermione picked up gifts for her relatives and gave the gift wrapped boxes to A.J. to take with her to France. The three women hugged and kissed and Lydia and Hermione sent Antoine and the rest their love. After seeing Armande off on the train Lydia quizzed Hermione on how things were going thus far as they rode back to Hermione\'s house.

\"They\'re fine, Gram. I\'ve made a lot of progress. The movers are coming the day after Christmas to pick up the first load of furniture.\"

\"And how are you? You\'re looking a lot better than I\'ve seen you recently. And you\'re wearing the sweater I made you.\"

Hermione grinned. \"Well, you know. It was the only thing clean I had left.\"

\"As if I\'m to really believe that.\" Lydia pulled a face. \"With all the clothes your mother forced on you that you wouldn\'t wear...\"

\"Well, I\'m going to try to get some use out of them. It\'s not easy though, being in uniform for nearly ten months out of the year.\"

\"That\'s true. How are things at school? Find a boyfriend yet?\"

\"Gram.\" Hermione\'s cheeks pinked a bit.

\"Aha! You have! What\'s his name?\"

\"It doesn\'t matter what his name is, we\'re done for.\" Hermione grimaced with the remembering.

\"Whyever for? Was he at the funeral?\"

\"No, he most certainly was not. And it would suit me just fine if I never saw him again.\"

\"Whew.\" Lydia fanned herself with her hand. \"Mighty strong sentiment there, love.\"

Hermione shrugged. \"That\'s the way it is, Gram.\" Hermione\'s tone held a note of finality which said that the matter was closed.

Lydia didn\'t press the issue further and so they drove in silence, with just the radio playing until they reached the house. \"Now, my darling girl, you know my door is always open should you need it.\"

\"I\'ll keep that in mind.\" Hermione reached over and hugged her grandmother tightly. \"Thanks.\"

The young woman got out of the car, packages in hand while the old woman watched carefully. When Hermione was safely in the house, she drove off.

Hermione peered through the dark green sheers that hung over the window. She breathed a sigh of relief when she saw Lydia pull away. It was getting close to dark and Hermione, despite having been on Mr. Toad\'s Wild Ride last night, was eager to get back on. She went digging around in her suitcase and came up with a bottle of sweet smelling bubble bath. It had the scent of begonias, spicy geraniums, sweet peas and williams and a hint of tea rose.

Hermione tapped the tub. *\"Scourgify.\"*

The porcelain was sparkling. She grinned. Household chores were so much easier with a wand. She turned on the taps and adjusted the water temperature and poured in a lavish amount of bubble bath. Stripping off the scratchy sweater and everything else, Hermione sank into the tub and replayed what she could remember of last night in her head. (Oh, what I wouldn\'t give for a Pensieve right about now...)


She scrubbed down head to toe, twisting up her soaked hair into a clip kept nearby for just such a purpose. Rinsing off and getting out she *Evanesco\'ed* the tub water and then gave it a quick *\"Scourgify.\"*

Walking through the house, clad in only a towel, she went back into the living room and packed up the suitcase and dragged it upstairs to her bedroom. Hermione opened the suitcase fully and picked through the clothes she\'d randomly thrown in there. Ah. Black pants and a little v-necked shirt would do nicely. Simon wouldn\'t know what hit him. Hermione grinned wickedly.

She took lotioned and dressed and gave her hair a Drying charm. Miracle of miracles her hair didn\'t go all crazy wavy but managed to form soft ringlets. (John Frieda is a fucking genius...or wizard...something.)

Blessing the wonder that is Frizz-ease, she pulled her hair into a high ponytail, letting the curls fall down around her neck and shoulders. A quick spritz of perfume and she was off to the club.

Hermione headed straight to the booth where she\'d been with Simon and sure enough he was there, a martini in hand, trying to look cool.

\"Hullo luv! Didn\'t think I\'d see you again.\"

Hermione looked him up and down and gave him her best femme fatale smirk. \"You have something that belongs to me,\" she said.

\"And what is that?\"

She leaned into Simon, lips brushing his ear. \"My knickers.\"

He pulled her down into his lap. \"Would you like to lose another pair?\"

\"I would...but I\'m not wearing any.\"

He laughed. \"That\'s the spirit, luv. We were just getting ready to kick this party into high gear. Would you care to join us?\" Simon swept his hand across the table, indicating all the mood-altering substances spread on it.

Hermione smiled thinly, thinking about her current unhappy state. \"I thought you\'d never ask.\"