Chapter Text
Friday 27th August 1999
Hermione woke up feeling drained. It was gone nine. Everything came flooding back to her and she burst into tears. After she had cried herself out, she sat up and said “No.”
She got up and stood looking at herself in the mirror, “I need to find a better outlet.”
She showered, dressed and looked around her room. It had been a while since she had spent any time there. It needed a good clean and tidy up. She unpacked her suitcase, picked up clothes from the floor stripped her bed, and emptied her laundry hamper into a bin liner. She went out to the launderette. Sometimes, spending time watching clothes rotate helped her clear her mind.
Once the clothes were divided into two machines, she took out a notebook and began writing out everything she remembered about Ares since June; the signs of interest she thought she received; how he behaved; the things he said to her.
She remembered the hugs, the soft words, the times they’d shared a bed. The more she thought about Ares, the more the tears streamed down her face. The lady who worked in the launderette came over and asked if she was okay. Hermione smiled and nodded. “Just a bad break-up,” she told the lady. The kindly woman brought her over a cup of tea and placed it gently in front of her.
She sat and sipped the tea. She then flipped the notebook to a new page and wrote Is Ares the Man from Mars? across the top of the page.
After she had compared height, skin tone, position of charms versus Ares’s tattoos and scars, the mannerisms and most importantly how it felt when they kissed, she was still convinced that Ares was indeed the Man from Mars.
When the laundry was finished, she picked up the bag and walked to a nearby café. She treated herself to lunch and sat in silence with her thoughts. She wasn’t particularly hungry, but she forced herself to eat everything on her plate. By the time she had finished her meal, a plan had formed in her head.
She returned home and spent a couple of hours cleaning and tidying her bedroom. She sorted the pile of clothes to return to Daphne and Astoria and put the rest of the clothes away. She sat on Sirius’s bed for an hour talking to him as if he was there but not daring to use the stone. Then she pulled out her lucky sports bra and shorts and began the lengthy task of transfiguring and glamouring her appearance.
Mid‑afternoon, with a determined look on her face, she apparated to near the Electric Circus. As soon as she entered, she was met with the familiar scent of blood and sweat mixed with alcohol and cigarette smoke.
The manager was pleased she had returned.
“We can offer you one fight today and more tomorrow if you survive,” he said.
---
An hour later she was stood in the ring, listening to her intro, accompanied by her theme tune of Looks that Kill. She inhaled deeply and absorbed the atmosphere.
“And here she is, back after a three‑month break,” the announcer began. “Our very own twenty-nine times winner, only ever defeated once… the one and only Soul Destroyer!”
A huge cheer went up as the spotlight illuminated her.
“I’m back,” she thought and raised her hands to the crowd.
The Muggle she’d been matched with didn’t know what hit him. She broke his jaw on the first punch. He staggered backwards and she followed up with a solid punch to the solar plexus, finally knocking him out with a right hook to the nose.
“Here she is, back on form. Winning in just thirty-seven seconds. Let’s give it up for Soul Destroyer.”
She walked around the ring holding her arms up to the crowd and revelling in the applause. She didn’t have any injuries to heal, so paced awhile in the changing room before leaving to collect the winnings.
“Hey,” she said, “I don’t suppose the Man from Mars has been back in recently?”
“No, not since the day he beat you. Don’t know what you did to him, but he forgot to pick up his winnings.”
She winked. “Maybe he had a different prize. I’ll try and come in a bit more,” she said. “My diary seems a lot clearer now.”
When she left the building, she leant against the wall and sighed. “That is definitely another point towards him being Ares. Ares didn’t care about money, it probably wouldn’t even register with him to pick up a couple of hundred quid.
---
When she got home, she sent an owl to Hagrid asking if she could treat him to Sunday lunch in Hogsmeade. She sent off another to Luna asking how she was getting on. She didn’t want to speak to any of her other friends. She didn’t want any conversations about Ares. She wanted to see people who were completely separate from him.
It was gone ten by the time Harry and Ginny staggered through the door.
“You missed a great night in the pub,” Harry said.
“Oh, right,” she replied.
“Everyone was asking about you.”
“Who’s everyone?” she snapped.
“Well… Daphne, Pansy, Theo, Izumi,” he dragged out the list.
“I need some time to myself,” she muttered. “Don’t want to talk about work. It can wait until Monday.”
“What’s wrong, Hermione?” He swayed into her. “Ares was grumpy today as well.”
“Well maybe he should have taken the day off too,” she snapped. “I’m going to bed.”
Ginny gave her a concerned look, but didn’t move to follow her.
“Do you think something’s happened?” asked Ginny.
Harry shrugged.
Mike and Ellie stumbled in, giggling.
“Something’s up with Hermione. You two need to talk to her tomorrow,” Ginny snapped at the two men. “You’re her family. Man up and take responsibility.”
Mike and Harry shrugged at each other.
Saturday 28th August 1999
Hermione stayed in her room all morning deliberately avoiding everyone. Harry knocked on the door mid-morning.
“Hermione, Tilly just sent the mail over from the Manor. There’s a letter for you. It looks like Hagrid’s writing.”
Shit! Her mail was still being diverted for screening at the Manor.
“I asked Hagrid to have Sunday lunch with me,” she said. “I can’t face the Burrow this weekend and didn’t have work as an excuse. Plus, I just wanted to catch up with Hagrid because…”
“He’s not somebody you work with or a Weasley,” Harry finished for her.
She nodded.
“What happened with Ares in Benidorm? Please tell me I haven’t got to kill him. I don’t fancy my chances.”
“No, it’s okay,” she replied. “He hasn’t done anything wrong. It’s me. I got something wrong and I’m cross with myself.”
Harry looked confused. “Care to share?”
“Nope.”
Harry sighed. He knew how stubborn she could be when she wanted.
“Look, we’ve had some great news, or rather Ginny has. We’re going to celebrate later at the Leaky. I know it’s not your scene, but Ginny would really love you to be there.”
“Is her idiot brother going?”
“Probably, but so many others too. Neville’s coming, and a lot of old DA members.”
“I’ve got something planned later,” she said, “but I’ll make it, if I can.”
“We probably aren’t going to leave until seven-ish.”
Harry moved to leave and paused briefly in the doorway.
“Please try to come. It will do you good. Hardly anyone from work will be there.”
She knew that was Harry’s code for Ares.
Hermione returned to the Electric Circus and managed two more successful wins with only minor bruising. She apparated home around six, fully intending to miss the party. However, Mike and Ellie were in the lounge entertaining Terry, and Roger Davies.
“You remember Roger, don’t you?” said Mike. “Our old Ravenclaw Quidditch captain.”
She nodded at the handsome older man. “How are you?” she asked. She hadn’t seen him since the end of the war, but he was still exactly the same. She found herself comparing him to Ares and he came up short. It made her cross with herself. She then realised he was talking.
“Been a while. Just split up with my girlfriend, actually. You might remember her, seeing as you jinxed her and she never forgave you… Marietta Edgecombe.”
“Oh great, someone else to add to my list of people who I’ve somehow pissed off over the years. At least some of those are dead now so I don’t have to worry about them.”
Roger shuffled awkwardly and felt a little embarrassed that he brought it up.
“I thought she’d have forgotten about that by now.”
“No, it actually took about eighteen months to disappear, and even now there’s a faint trace in a certain light.”
“Can’t say as I’m sorry,” Hermione snapped. “Can’t stand a snitch.” She looked at Roger trying to maintain a polite expression. “Sorry if that sounds harsh.”
“No, she’s not exactly my favourite person now. I just found out she had a threesome last week. Two years of my life down the drain.”
“Not fucking Finch‑Fletchley and Bones?” Hermione asked, making everyone else in the room look a little sheepish.
“No. It was Cho Chang and her boyfriend. Apparently, Marietta and Cho have been a thing for years. I feel betrayed.” Roger’s cheeks reddened slightly.
“I’m sorry to hear that,” she said. “Betrayal sucks.”
“Well, Terry and Mike here have invited me to tag along tonight to cheer me up. Are you coming?”
“I’m not sure. I’ve had a taxing week and I’m not feeling too sociable. Plus, I’ll end up in the fucking Prophet, and I can’t be arsed to read more bullshit about myself.”
“Well, if you do come, get a photo with Roger,” Mike suggested. “Even if it’s just to piss Edgecombe off. You’re the worst person in her eyes for him to be photographed with.”
“No offence,” she said, “but the last thing I want to do is stir up the past.”
“Come on, Hermione, please,” Mike pleaded. “For Ginny’s sake at least. “We’ll make sure nobody goes near you, unless you want them to.”
“Oh, fuck it,” she replied. “I’ll go change. Fancy giving me a hand doing my makeup, Ellie?”
Ellie jumped at the opportunity, leaving the three men alone in the lounge. Hermione did not recognise herself after Ellie had finished with her. She walked into the front room.
“Fuck me,” said Mike. “We’re going to have our hands full keeping the blokes off you tonight.”
Hermione had on Muggle clothing, including a dress that Ares had bought her in Birmingham. She’d been reluctant to wear something so daring in the magical world, but Ellie persuaded her. She had on some of the Black family costume jewellery. Ellie had given her smoky eyes, red lipstick, and relaxed hair. Ellie, despite not looking at all alternative, seemed to have a gift for knowing what people liked and what would suit them.
“I just need one final seal of approval. Fancy seeing what Wally thinks?” Mike grinned at Hermione’s words and beckoned for the others to follow her to the portrait.
“Hey Wally, do you think your necklace goes with my outfit?”
“TAKE MY JEWELLERY OFF YOU FILTHY MUDBLOOD WHORE. LOOK AT YOU, DISGUSTING HARLOT.”
“You know what will set this off nicely, especially as the night’s a bit cooler. Accio leather jacket.”
“This was Sirius’s. It’s mine now, just like the jewels.” She turned around and bared her knickers at Walburga.
Roger and Terry were speechless.
“Can’t get the bitch off the wall,” Mike explained. “So, apparently, Sirius started a tradition of pissing her off. Hermione and Harry carried it on in his memory. But my presence as her husband’s bastard is usually enough. On special occasions we pull out all the stops.”
They could still hear shrieking when they Flooed to the Leaky a little while later. Harry, Ginny, and Ron were going straight from the Burrow.
“Right men,” Mike told Roger and Terry, “your mission for the night is to protect Hermione from the unwanted attentions of Ronald Weasley and any others she doesn’t want to speak to.”
Harry and Ginny had already reserved a section of the Leaky Cauldron. Ron scowled when he saw Hermione flanked by Terry and Roger. His mouth also dropped open when she took off her leather jacket to reveal her skimpy Muggle dress.
“You look like you should be in Knockturn Alley, flaunting your…”
Hermione cut him off with a slap across the face. Roger pulled out his wand and pointed it at Ron.
“Apologise to the lady,” he said.
“Now, now,” said Harry. “No need for that. Roger, put your wand away. Ron… apologise.”
“What for? Speaking the truth? She looks like a cheap whore.”
“RONALD WEASLEY, GET OUT OF THIS PUB NOW!” screeched Ginny, sounding exactly like her mother.
“It’s a public bar. You can’t stop me.”
“Well, I’ve paid to reserve this area, so you can fuck off from here,” she snapped at him, before turning to Hermione. “I’m sorry for my brother’s rudeness.”
“It’s par for the course with him.” Hermione shrugged. “Hopefully he’ll stay away for the rest of the night.”
A few more people arrived and joined them. Hermione found herself seated between Terry and Roger and, as more people tried to find seats, became squashed up to Roger. A few people came to say hello, then to Hermione’s delight Luna appeared with her new boyfriend, Rolf Scamander.
“Luna!” she shrieked, standing up and hugging the girl so tightly.
“Hello Hermione,” said Luna. “I see you have a huge Wrackspurt infestation.”
“I’d say so,” Rolf chipped in. “Hi, I’m Rolf.” He shook Hermione’s hand enthusiastically. “We’ll have to do something about that infestation.”
“Would you two like lunch tomorrow?” Hermione asked. “I’ve already arranged to meet Hagrid in the Three Broomsticks. Why don’t you join us?”
“Oh, that would be nice,” said Luna. “We could see if the lesser‑spotted Gnarbuck has been sighted in the Forbidden Forest.”
“Splendid,” said Rolf. “And we’ll do something about these Wrackspurts while we’re at it.”
Hermione smiled. There was something about Luna that made everything seem a little brighter. She spent a while catching up with Luna’s exploits, then Harry stood up and tapped his glass with his wand.
“Can I have your attention please?” He paused while the chatter died down. Even bystanders in the pub stopped to listen to Harry Potter speaking. “There’s a reason why you’ve all been invited to join us here.” He pointed to Ginny. “Please let me introduce the new Chaser for the Holyhead Harpies!”
Ginny stood up and bowed. Everyone cheered and the barmaid brought out a huge cake with candles.
As the chatter in the pub resumed, Hermione returned to sit by Roger. Luna and Rolf had floated off to talk to Neville. They chatted about mutual friends, as well as enemies like Marietta, who had sworn revenge on Hermione one day.
“Do you think I should reach out to her?” Hermione asked.
“I’m not sure it would help, especially if she knew that I was the reason for you reaching out.”
Hermione inhaled deeply. The past always had a nasty way of sneaking up on her.
“Listen Hermione…” She snapped herself out of her thoughts. “Would you like to go on a date sometime?” Roger asked with sincerity.
“Umm… Roger, it’s really flattering, but my head is very confused about something… well, someone, at the moment. I really need to sort myself out before even thinking about a date. I would be happy to meet as friends, though. Maybe as part of a group, but preferably somewhere Muggle. Every time I step foot in the magical world, I seem to end up in the Prophet alongside a lot of bullshit. To be honest, I wouldn’t be surprised if something awful appears tomorrow.”
“Have you been seeing someone?” he asked.
“Not exactly,” said Hermione. “It’s complicated. I have strong feelings for someone, but he clearly doesn’t feel the same and it hurts. I need to sort myself out.”
“Look, I know it was at school,” he said, “but I dated Cho after Cedric… well, you know. It was a nightmare with her crying non-stop. But she saw a therapist and it really helped her. We didn’t work out as a couple but stayed good friends. That is, until I found out she fucked my girlfriend. What I’m saying is…” He paused, plucking up the courage to continue. “Maybe you should see a therapist. Either a wizard mind-healer or a Muggle one. It depends on what you want to talk about.”
Hermione smiled gratefully. “Thanks, Roger. That’s good advice. And thank you for the chat. It’s helped.” She gave him a peck on the cheek before standing up. “I need to go home now. Would you please tell the others for me?”
Roger nodded and she quietly slipped out of the roped-off area and headed for the Floo. Once home, she threw up silencing charms and had a little cry.