FICLET: A Second, a Minute, an Hour, a Day (Hermione/Katie)
Title: A Second, a Minute, an Hour, a Day
Pairing: Hermione/Katie
Prompt: the residue of Monday
Rating: PG
Word Count: 943
Summary: Hermione finds someone else whose insomnia matches her own.
Author's Notes: Enjoy!
Link to Prompt Table: Prompt Table
Hermione always had trouble sleeping, even as a child. She credited her insomnia for why she was so smart--it gave her a chance to read for hours and hours on end, while the rest of the world slumbered. At Hogwarts, she read by the light of her wand, then, once the books were finished, she rolled onto her back and watched the moon crawl across the sky. Days, for her, had no names; they were minutes and seconds that crawled into one another, leaving behind trails of slime and dirt. In her mind, days were not unlike slugs she used to watch squirm their ways across her backyard in the lull that comes after the rain.
Hermione had been quietly descending the stairs into the Common Room, wading her way through the residue of a Monday, when her eyes locked with Katie’s. Katie was reading a book by the fireplace. They paused, as if both of them were trying to decide which one was trespassing.
“Hermione Granger?” Katie had said.
“Katie Bell,” Hermione acknowledged, and suddenly forgot why she had entered the Common Room in the first place.
“Can’t sleep?” Katie asked her, and a grin had flitted across her mouth like a faerie.
Hermione attempted to appear nonplussed, though the presence of someone else during her private hours made her incredibly uneasy. “I usually can’t sleep,” she replied.
“Neither can I,” Katie told her, and closed her book. “I’m surprised we haven’t run into each other.”
“I’m usually in my room.”
“So am I.”
There was an uncomfortable silence that passed between the two of them before Katie stood, bid her a hasty good night, and strode quickly in the direction of the sixth year girls’ dormitory. Hermione both welcomed and despised the silence that followed the closing of the door. She didn’t understand why.
The next evening, Hermione felt an inexplicable urge to go into the Common Room. She had been seized by the desire to know more about Katie’s insomnia--did it bother her? Did it interfere with her daily life? Did she revel in it, as Hermione did? Or did she think herself unlucky? But when she saw Katie sitting in the same spot she had been in the night prior, all she could do was walk past her, barely tossing a glance of acknowledgement Katie’s way, and walk through the portrait hole and into the bathroom for no reason at all. When she returned, Katie was gone.
This behavior went on for another three days, until Hermione was halted in her tracks when Katie asked her to sit down.
“Me?” Hermione said stupidly, as though Katie could have been addressing a table or chair.
Katie’s response was a small smile, and Hermione’s ears burned as she crossed the room and sat beside Katie. Katie closed her book and set it gently in her lap, looking Hermione directly in the eye.
“I’ve always sort of wanted to chat with you, Hermione, but I always thought it’d be awkward,” Katie began, looking only mildly embarrassed. “I thought we wouldn’t have a thing in common. Apparently we do.”
“Insomnia,” Hermione said, overly-eager to have a conversation with someone who might know the nighttime as well as she.
“Can I ask you about You-Know-Who?” Katie asked, her voice hardly a whisper.
Hermione had never been directly asked about You-Know-Who, which had never particularly bothered her. It made sense that the wizarding community would only truly be interested in Harry, leaving she and Ron as colorful sidekicks to the Boy Who Lived. But once Katie asked the question, Hermione felt a wave of pride swell up in her chest unexpectedly.
“Of course,” Hermione replied, keeping a firm grip on her composure lest she begin squealing. “What do you want to know?”
They spent the evening trading stories, only parting when the Common Room had been filled to bustling capacity with other Gryffindors getting ready for the upcoming Quidditch match. Hermione wished Katie luck and was quietly pleased to see she had a new reason to look forward to games, other than supporting Harry.
Though she would have been aggrieved to admit it to anyone, Hermione’s eyes followed Katie throughout the entire game, landing only on Harry after he had triumphantly snatched the snitch from the air. Hermione thought Katie played beautifully, gliding through the air like a dove. Her insomnia usually left her with a dull feeling of exhaustion at all times, but after the excitement of the game she found herself entirely drained. She slept until the next morning, waking up a mere hour before her first class.
And then it was the residue of a Monday again, which meant, according to a calendar or other means of keeping track of meaningless days, it had been seven days since Hermione’s awkward first encounter with Katie. She smoothed her hair down and closed the book she had been reading before slipping out of her room to find Katie in her usual spot. Katie had no book in her lap this time.
“You played wonderfully yesterday,” Hermione said quietly, taking a seat beside the older girl. “I’m sorry I didn’t get a chance to tell you.”
“I had someone to play for,” Katie replied, and kissed Hermione before she had a chance to ask what she meant. Before her eyes slid shut, Hermione caught sight of the clock hanging on the wall--the residue of a Monday had faded into the beginnings of a Tuesday, and for the first time in a very long time, a second, a minute, an hour, and a day stood out for Hermione.
Pairing: Hermione/Katie
Prompt: the residue of Monday
Rating: PG
Word Count: 943
Summary: Hermione finds someone else whose insomnia matches her own.
Author's Notes: Enjoy!
Link to Prompt Table: Prompt Table
Hermione always had trouble sleeping, even as a child. She credited her insomnia for why she was so smart--it gave her a chance to read for hours and hours on end, while the rest of the world slumbered. At Hogwarts, she read by the light of her wand, then, once the books were finished, she rolled onto her back and watched the moon crawl across the sky. Days, for her, had no names; they were minutes and seconds that crawled into one another, leaving behind trails of slime and dirt. In her mind, days were not unlike slugs she used to watch squirm their ways across her backyard in the lull that comes after the rain.
Hermione had been quietly descending the stairs into the Common Room, wading her way through the residue of a Monday, when her eyes locked with Katie’s. Katie was reading a book by the fireplace. They paused, as if both of them were trying to decide which one was trespassing.
“Hermione Granger?” Katie had said.
“Katie Bell,” Hermione acknowledged, and suddenly forgot why she had entered the Common Room in the first place.
“Can’t sleep?” Katie asked her, and a grin had flitted across her mouth like a faerie.
Hermione attempted to appear nonplussed, though the presence of someone else during her private hours made her incredibly uneasy. “I usually can’t sleep,” she replied.
“Neither can I,” Katie told her, and closed her book. “I’m surprised we haven’t run into each other.”
“I’m usually in my room.”
“So am I.”
There was an uncomfortable silence that passed between the two of them before Katie stood, bid her a hasty good night, and strode quickly in the direction of the sixth year girls’ dormitory. Hermione both welcomed and despised the silence that followed the closing of the door. She didn’t understand why.
The next evening, Hermione felt an inexplicable urge to go into the Common Room. She had been seized by the desire to know more about Katie’s insomnia--did it bother her? Did it interfere with her daily life? Did she revel in it, as Hermione did? Or did she think herself unlucky? But when she saw Katie sitting in the same spot she had been in the night prior, all she could do was walk past her, barely tossing a glance of acknowledgement Katie’s way, and walk through the portrait hole and into the bathroom for no reason at all. When she returned, Katie was gone.
This behavior went on for another three days, until Hermione was halted in her tracks when Katie asked her to sit down.
“Me?” Hermione said stupidly, as though Katie could have been addressing a table or chair.
Katie’s response was a small smile, and Hermione’s ears burned as she crossed the room and sat beside Katie. Katie closed her book and set it gently in her lap, looking Hermione directly in the eye.
“I’ve always sort of wanted to chat with you, Hermione, but I always thought it’d be awkward,” Katie began, looking only mildly embarrassed. “I thought we wouldn’t have a thing in common. Apparently we do.”
“Insomnia,” Hermione said, overly-eager to have a conversation with someone who might know the nighttime as well as she.
“Can I ask you about You-Know-Who?” Katie asked, her voice hardly a whisper.
Hermione had never been directly asked about You-Know-Who, which had never particularly bothered her. It made sense that the wizarding community would only truly be interested in Harry, leaving she and Ron as colorful sidekicks to the Boy Who Lived. But once Katie asked the question, Hermione felt a wave of pride swell up in her chest unexpectedly.
“Of course,” Hermione replied, keeping a firm grip on her composure lest she begin squealing. “What do you want to know?”
They spent the evening trading stories, only parting when the Common Room had been filled to bustling capacity with other Gryffindors getting ready for the upcoming Quidditch match. Hermione wished Katie luck and was quietly pleased to see she had a new reason to look forward to games, other than supporting Harry.
Though she would have been aggrieved to admit it to anyone, Hermione’s eyes followed Katie throughout the entire game, landing only on Harry after he had triumphantly snatched the snitch from the air. Hermione thought Katie played beautifully, gliding through the air like a dove. Her insomnia usually left her with a dull feeling of exhaustion at all times, but after the excitement of the game she found herself entirely drained. She slept until the next morning, waking up a mere hour before her first class.
And then it was the residue of a Monday again, which meant, according to a calendar or other means of keeping track of meaningless days, it had been seven days since Hermione’s awkward first encounter with Katie. She smoothed her hair down and closed the book she had been reading before slipping out of her room to find Katie in her usual spot. Katie had no book in her lap this time.
“You played wonderfully yesterday,” Hermione said quietly, taking a seat beside the older girl. “I’m sorry I didn’t get a chance to tell you.”
“I had someone to play for,” Katie replied, and kissed Hermione before she had a chance to ask what she meant. Before her eyes slid shut, Hermione caught sight of the clock hanging on the wall--the residue of a Monday had faded into the beginnings of a Tuesday, and for the first time in a very long time, a second, a minute, an hour, and a day stood out for Hermione.