(no subject)

[dramaturgy]

You guys remember that Hermione thing I said I was going to write last weekend? I finally got it written today.

I am dedicating this story to my muse, Whot Rot. He's a scary little bloke who prances around with his Oliver/Cho t-shirt and Gryffindor scarf so tight it practically chokes him, but I love him anyway.

oliver_wood_? My muse is an even bigger Gryffindork than you or me.

At any rate, this is movie verse, from the Flourish and Blotts scene from Hermione's point of view, written as sort of a memoir. And I'm sorry, but I don't remember exactly what Lucius Malfoy said during this entire time, but I've spoken with every member of my family who has seen the movie, and this is what I was able to come up with.

"Fear of the name only increases fear of the thing itself," I spoke, giving Mr. Malfoy one of the best looks I could come up with. He turned to me, and it was like having Draco look at you times twenty. Whereas Draco only froze my exterior, Lucius Malfoy chilled me to my very heart.

"You must be... Miss Granger?" I wanted to speak for myself, but remained frozen. Draco must have given some sort of affirmation, because Mr. Malfoy continued. "Draco's told me all about you..."

I'm sure he has, I thought to myself, wishing the words would come out of my mouth.

"And... your parents," he finished the sentence. He looked at me with the sharp, pale eyes for confirmation or denial on what was hanging in the air between us. I looked back to where my parents were conversing with Mr. Weasley about "eckeltricity". My mother laughed, and my father looked amused. Looking back at Mr. Malfoy, I knew there was no room for denial or a rebuttal. "Muggles, aren't they?" he asked, without it being a question.

I gave him the coldest look I could manage, all the while feeling as if I might either cry or do something drastic. A heavy feeling had settled in my stomach that made me want to look down, but I kept my eyes cast up.

Having said more with his tone than his words about my non-magical parentage, he turned to the Weasleys. "Let's see... red hair, vacant expression..." He picked up Ginny's second hand Transfiguration book and leered. "Tatty school things... must be the Weasleys," he continued. The red hair was certainly true enough, but their expressions were anything but vacant. Ginny looked frightened, Ron looked like he felt less than human, the twins looked unusually sullen, and the contempt on Percy's face could not have been clearer if you had written the word 'CONTEMPT' on his forehead in black ink. And the look on Mr. Malfoy's face could only be described as a sneer.

My heart leaped for joy when Mr. Weasley appeared with an, "All right, children?" to rescue us, and immediately sank again when Mr. Weasley and Mr. Malfoy started having... words. Mr. Weasley was right, it was very obvious to me that they had different ideas on what disgraced the name of wizardry. Their words had more venom than I could possibly convey on paper. More than once, Mr. Weasley looked like he should have liked to shove Mr. Malfoy into a bookshelf.

By the time Mr. Malfoy had turned on his heel and left with Draco (who I didn't fail to notice acted like a dog that had been kicked one too many times by its master around his father), I understood very clearly something Harry would later say was the most important thing Hagrid had ever taught him.

Not all wizards are good.

We stood, frozen to our spots by the Malfoy ice, until a woman begged our pardon, trying to get inside. "Come, children," Mr. Weasley said. "We're blocking the entrance." His voice sounded strained, as if he suffered under a heavy burden, but more of the heart than a physical load.

We filed outside, where we stood in a little group waiting for Mrs. Weasley and my parents. We were considerably quieter than before. I looked around, and felt like screaming. It wasn't fair that only one person have the power to bring eight people down like this. It would be one thing to engage in a physical fight, but seeing their pride wounded was worse than any hex marks that would have been seen.

Ginny was sandwiched between her father and Percy, looking downtrodden but comforting in her own way. Mr. Weasley and Percy looked solemn. Ron and Harry were exchanging looks like they had just tasted a really foul Bertie Botts Every Flavor Bean. The twins looked like they were trying to figure out a way to lighten the situation. Before they could say or do anything, Mrs. Weasley and my parents, chatting conversationally, emerged from Flourish and Blotts.

I looked at both of my parents, as if for the first time as a stranger. They certainly stood out in Diagon Alley, in jeans and sweaters. They stood out as much as if you would have taken Mr. and Mrs. Weasley in their robes and put them in Muggle London.

It was at the exact same moment that I had that thought that I realized what the feeling that had overcome me when Mr. Malfoy was present, and it hit me like a punch in the stomach. That feeling had been shame.

That day in Flourish and Blotts was the first and last time I ever felt ashamed of my parentage... and even now, I'm ashamed at the memory of being ashamed.

I was quiet on the way home from Diagon Alley, and quiet all evening. I felt sick. When my father chose to comment on my silence, I said I was "fine", even though my emotions were a big, confusing knot in my stomach. I excused myself from dinner and went to bed early. But I still couldn't sleep. The guilt from the shame lingered.

I found myself rising from my bed and walking downstairs, standing in the door to the parlor, where they both sat watching the telly. My mother noticed me first. "Hermione, is something wrong?"

I stood in silence for a moment, then practically flew to the couch, gave them each a hug and a kiss and said, "I love you." They seemed surprised, but accepted their hug and kiss graciously. After I did that, I was able to sleep.

Ever since, I've done that. Given them a kiss and hug good night and said, "I love you." Those are powerful words, those three. I think of it as my way of making up to them.