#✦ 𝐎𝐁𝐒𝐂𝐔𝐑𝐎 ➜ ｢ Drabbles ｣

[bccksmarts]

   The witch was in her kitchen, doing some cleaning up around her little home. Some music was playing from her cute little radio, something to help her get into a rhythm of clearing up her space from all of her paperwork. Yes, typical Granger, making her house a mess with parchment and books. Scandalous. Crookshanks was on the couch, watching her with every step. She could never tell what he was thinking, but he seemed happy either way. The music was soft, nothing really of note.

   Not until the song had switched over.

   A gasp escaped her as she looked towards the feline, her eyes lighting up. She could instantly see the fear in her companion's face as she scooped him up, holding him as if he was a dance partner and began to twirl with him, ❝I know you, I walked with you once upon a dream,❞ She hummed as she moved throughout the room with her cat in her arms, her curls bouncing and flying around in a repetitive motion with her every step. ❝I know you, the gleam in yours eyes is so familiar a gleam,❞ a giggle as she watched her cat just be as scared as possible, ❝And I know it's true, that visions are seldom all they seem...❞

   The thought was that she had a proper dancing partner, a person to waltz around with in some fancy dress—just like she had at the Yule Ball—but alas, she was on her own with her only man, her cat. Finishing her twirl, she put Crookshanks down safely ( the poor thing, he looked so dizzy ) before doing another twirl, her arms wrapping around herself, ❝But if I know you, I know what you'll do,❞ She went further, coming up to a nearby wall, leaning against it, ❝You'll love me at once—the way you did once upon a dream...❞

   A girl could dream, couldn't she?

[bccksmarts]

  The Great Hall was decorated spectacularly yet again for another Yule ball. Students of Hogwarts, as well as students from Durmstrang and Beauxbaton were in attendence again, but this year was significantly different. Eighth Years ( students retaking their seventh year that they couldn't attend due to the war ) were also in attendance—meaning Hermione Granger got another chance of a perfect evening. Her fourth year went up in flames when Ronald Weasley decided to accuse her of ❛fraternizing with the enemy❜—which was absolutely ridiculous, mind you—so she was very much looking forward to gracing a room without any such assumption.

  Students were bustling around the room, dancing with their chosen dates and their friends. Hermione, however, was stood off to the side with her glass of pumpkin juice in hand, taking light sips from it. Her attire for this particular affair was a sparkling gold dress that trailed all the way down to the floor, much like a princess' dress that you'd see in a movie or read in a fairy tale. The dress was accompanied by golden heels—that you couldn't see due to the dress' length—and a golden choker around her neck. Her hair was pretty much loose, though the top half was tied into a bun at the back of her head.

  Her chocolate eyes scanned the room for her friends and classmates, just to keep tabs on them. After all, she was the Head Girl this year, but she was ❛off duty❜ and Headmistress McGonagall had given her strict instructions to just relax. Her and relaxing didn't really mix. Off to the side of the room, by a pillar, was Ginny, talking up a storm with Blaise Zabini, a returning Slytherin of their year group. Not surprising really, given the amount of gossip she spilled to Hermione throughout the term. How Blaise was so dreamy and all this, that and the other. Harry was stood with Ron, Neville, Dean and Seamus, with Theodore Nott on their flank. Slytherins were mixing it up with the Gryffindors this year, it'd seem, really putting that ❛house unity❜ idea into effect. It was so strange, but at the same time? So right. They all looked so relaxed and chilled out... and here she was, off to the side, standing alone.

  Mere moments of just watching, the music seemed to change. Something slower, something more... intimate. She wasn't prepared for this kind of shift, not yet. Couples found each other so easily, lacing the hands together, arms wrapped around each other or being placed on waists and shoulders.

  ❛There I was again tonight,   Forcing laughter, faking smiles,   Same old, tired, lonely place...❜

  The witch swallowed thickly but quietly, wishing ( oh so wishing ) she had brought a date. She'd declined so many people, hoping for that right person to ask her, but they never asked. Not that she had that expectation; wishful thinking actually. But a girl could hope, couldn't she?

  ❛Walls of insincerity,   Shifting eyes and vacancy,   Vanished when I saw your face...❜

  The more the song went on, the more her shoulders slumped. Her eyes shifted around the room, wondering if she'd see that very face. Wondering if their eyes would connect and something deep would set off, pulling them together as if they were magnetised. Wondering if they'd dance, all up, close and personally; bodies pressing together as if they just fit together, made to fit, and their feet moving in perfect tangent, no awkward stepping on toes. Fluent, perfect, mesmerising.

  ...No. That was just some school girl's dream. The chances of that happening whatsoever were slim. Extremely slim. Taking another sip of her pumpkin juice, Hermione exhaled a sigh from her lightly painted lips before taking the chance to look around the large room again. Maybe... just maybe... she'd see someone, and they'd see her.

[bccksmarts]

   The witch hummed softly, cuddling with her itty bitty little Granger, Matilda, on her lap. It was mid-afternoon, windows open to let the sun in and to hear the birds tweeting away or to spot whatever magical creatures decided to fly by.

   Matilda wanted to read a story, which was usually a nighttime special thing they did, but Hermione couldn't help but oblige. Who can deny a child with a sweet sounding voice? Especially hers? So, she stopped doing whatever she was doing ( medical files and things for her job at St. Mungo's ), scooped up her little girl and wandered over to their reading area, plopping down on a large bean cushion, sinking into it. Matilda, 6 years old, giggled and got herself comfortable in her mother's lap, ready for whatever fictional story they were about to embark on.

   They got into the book after a couple of minutes, a children's version of The Little Mermaid—one of Matilda's favourites, and finished it quicker than they expected. That's Granger's for you. Though it finished, the youngster wasn't satisfied, and asked for a simple request.

   A song.

   Believe it or not, Hermione sung to Matilda constantly. It was a thing she did ever since she was a baby, and some songs hit home for them more than others. Tarzan's ❛You'll Be In My Heart❜ was a very special one, but they had literally just read a pretty romantic sort of book.

   Tapping her chin and thinking for a moment, Hermione smiled, as if a lightbulb flickered in her head. Matilda swivelled in her lap to look at her, leaning her back against Hermione's knees so she was comfortable.

   ❝Storybook endings, fairy tales coming true,    Deep down inside, we wanna believe they still do.    In our secretest heart, it's our favourite part of the story,    Let's just admit, we all wanna make it too.❞

   Hermione sung softly, tapping the child's nose with a laugh as she finished the verse, causing the girl to giggle in her lap but insisted her to continue. In which she did—

   ❝Ever ever after,    If we just don't get it our own way—    Ever ever after,    It may only be a wish away.❞

   Gods, how soppy... but Hermione found that she didn't seem to care. Every girl would want their own ❛ever ever after❜, she wasn't a fool to that. She wanted it too, and she knew a life with just herself and her little girl might just be it. She was content with that, mind you—this little girl was her whole world, and she wouldn't trade her for anything else, ever.

   Humming and watching Matilda lay forward, resting on her chest, Hermione messed with the girl's curls at the back of her head. Another Granger trait, of course. ❝Tired now, are you?❞ She asked softly, but received no response, taking that as a yes. A bit early for a nap, but she didn't mind. Besides, it gave her the opportunity to think of what an ever ever after, full and wholly, could be like.

[bccksmarts]

   The rain outside was abysmal, but at least it made cleaning that bit more manageable. The witch had her radio playing a soft tune, no lyrics, just something she can sway her hips to. She had to keep her ears open for if she heard a noise of some kind from upstairs.

   Crookshanks was on look-out duty, so he'd be running down the stairs if anything did happen.

   After about an hour of cleaning, folding clothes and other medial duties, Hermione heard it. A cry, and a scampering of feet on the floor, getting closer and closer. Quickly dismissing herself from her current task, the curly brunette made her way to the stairs, giving her large, fluffy, ginger half-kneazle on her way past with a quick ❛Thanks, Crooks.❜, quickly making her way up and toward the little sobs of distress.

   Entering the room, a child's nursery, Hermione's brows creased, her lips pulling to the side. The cries were coming from her one and only, her little Matilda. It was teething time, but that wasn't why she was crying. Probably because she'd just woken up from a nap, and the weather outside didn't help much with that, even if, to Hermione, it was soothing.

   Walking over to the crib that the child was wailing around in, Hermione made soft shushing sounds, her arms reaching in and scooping up the little girl with a head full of curls. A Granger through and through. Using one arm to support under the child's bottom, Hermione held her daughter in an upright position, using the other, free hand to rub her back in soothing movements, still making light hushes and coos.

   ❝Okay, Matilda, shhh.... Mummy's here.❞ Her voice quiet and soft, her body swaying slowly to attempt to give her little one some sort of comfort. No, the crying wouldn't stop—it lessened, but not by any major margin. She brought the hand on her back around, wiping her red, puffy eyes from the tears that just wouldn't stop rolling down her little, rosy cheeks. Sighing lightly, Hermione bit her lip; thinking. Hearing the faint music that she had on downstairs, it sparked an idea.

   Taking a silent breath, Hermione's lips parted, ❝...You are my sunshine, my only sunshine...❞ a song she knew to relax a child, it helped with Albus—Harry's and Ginny's son—when he was just as distressed. ❝You make me happy when skies are grey.❞ She continued, and, thank the Gods, Matilda's sobs turned into sniffles and incoherent babbles of words. Her own language, Hermione suspected. ❝You'll never know, dear, how much I love you,❞ A smile spread across her lips as she saw how Matilda was looking at her; large brown eyes, wide and intrigued, staring at her mother as if to urge her to continue, ❝Please don't take my sunshine away.❞ She concluded her song, booping the child's nose with her own, which had her giggling. A perfect reward.

[bccksmarts]

A bit of a drabble but also an open, I guess?

   Her eyes narrowed, hot and stinging, pricked with tears that were threatening to escape their ducts. No. Not today. She wasn't going to let whatever it was bug her. What was the point? None.

   ❝Girls like me don't cry.❞ She spoke, more to herself than anything, but also as a statement. No, she wasn't the one to cry. She might have a few times, but she knew that crying, all the tears, would get her nowhere.

   ❝Try to keep my head up high. Smile like it's alright.❞ Try being the key word—and she always strove to do so. Keep her feelings true but also kept under lock and key, under control. One should never hold their feelings back, but if one showed the ounce of fear... that was your downfall.