RP: Sunday Morning
Date: Sunday, May 28, 1998
Characters: Hermione Granger, Ron Weasley
Location: Grimmauld Place
Status: Private
Summary: Sunday morning at Grimmauld
Completion: Complete
There was still a lot to do around Grimmauld Place to make it into a home. Right now, Hermione and Kreacher had been working together, despite his muttering objections at first, on cleaning and airing it out. There were some areas where it seemed that no amount of magic or old-fashioned elbow grease made any progress whatsoever, while other parts of the house now looked really nice. The bedrooms hadn’t been changed at all, and Hermione wasn’t entirely sure what they should do about those.
The main two they used had belonged to Sirius and Regulus, and she was hesitant to just go in, box things up, and remove all traces of the former occupants. At least, without Harry’s permission. And he’d had enough to deal with lately, from calmly walking to his expected death to losing the last living link to his father, without her bringing up the fact that they’d really have to sort the bedrooms if they intended to actually remain here, which she hoped they did. For at least a little while.
Still, there was enough to keep her busy in between funerals and obligations. She wanted to stay busy, because there was so much she hadn’t allowed herself to think about or that she hadn’t properly analyzed and tucked away into the appropriate area of her mind. She had cried for those lost, soaked her pillow with her tears during the sleepless nights, and she’d cried for the living, those who had suffered or had no real direction.
She was one of the latter, and she’d felt aimless and restless since the war ended. It seemed that her entire purpose for living for the last few years had been to help Harry. That had become her responsibility from the moment he and Ron saved her from a troll all those years ago. Even when she’d not said anything, her main goal had always been to make sure those two boys survived. With Harry, she had almost failed, and that was still something she hadn’t really wrapped her mind around, nearly losing him like that. With Ron, she hoped she’d played a part in his survival, but she hadn’t been able to save his entire family, which meant a small piece of him had died.
The last week had been spent trying to be there for Harry and Ron. She worried about them both, and she knew that she wasn’t able to really help with what they were going through, but she had to try. There were times when they both seemed okay, or as okay as anyone was right now, and then there were times when they got quiet or looked so lost that her heart ached. She was glad that they were all here together, because she needed them even more than they needed her, but she just wished there was some way she could make it better, even if she knew there wasn’t anything she could really do.
Oddly enough, she was better at thinking about Ron and Harry and at dealing with her own guilt over not being fast enough with her research or not finding the answers quickly than she was at dealing with what she went through personally. The last year had been full of so many emotions, and she’d broken down more times than she could count, but she still hadn’t done anything more with the events in April than push them aside and ignore them as best she could.
Harry had needed her support at Shell Cottage, Ron had needed her to be perfectly fine, and she’d always just needed to be needed, so, really, it was much too easy to not think about Malfoy Manor or what happened there. Of course, she’d also not dealt with what she’d done to her parents or with what she’d seen and done at the Ministry of Magic months before, so perhaps it just got easier to avoid such things. She was good at avoiding personal things, even if she nagged and scolded others for trying similar tactics. In this case, she could privately admit that she was a complete hypocrite.
Cleaning Grimmauld House and volunteering at Hogwarts could only fill so many hours, though, so it was only natural that she’d picked up a project that was extremely close to her heart, even more so now. Granted, S.P.E.W. had turned out to be a horrid name and she’d been too close-minded and focused to look at House Elves’ lives without personal bias, but she liked to think she’d grown up a lot in the last couple of years. She knew now that many House Elves were happy serving people, and that she couldn’t force them to accept her views anymore than she wanted them to accept being treated as lowly slaves by others.
After a lot of thought and consideration, she had finally started to work on an updated S.P.E.W. campaign. She was trying to approach it differently, taking what she’d learned into consideration and letting it develop as she made notes and worked on the details. She already had two issues that she wanted to focus on and thought might be beneficial, in some ways.
Of course, it was unlikely than anyone would join this one, even with a name change, since no one seemed to care years ago, but she didn’t care if it was just her, and Harry and Ron if she decided to nag them into joining. She thought it was the right thing to do, had for years even if she’d needed to grow up and realize she couldn’t force change without becoming nearly as awful as those who mistreated their House Elves.
She leaned back against the sofa listening to the sounds in Grimmauld as she worked on her notes for the group’s first project. If she was the only member of the group, so be it. She could never not stand up for what felt was right or try to improve the world for others just because she might be doing it alone. An American Muggle politician had once said that a tiny ripple of hope could cause others and that, together, those ripples build a current that could sweep down the mightiest walls of oppression and resistance. She had little use for Americans or politicians, in all honesty, but that quote had always spoke to her.
As she looked down at her list, she heard Ron walking on the staircase. She smiled as she wrote down more thoughts that occurred to her, perfectly content, for now, to be a tiny ripple.
Characters: Hermione Granger, Ron Weasley
Location: Grimmauld Place
Status: Private
Summary: Sunday morning at Grimmauld
Completion: Complete
There was still a lot to do around Grimmauld Place to make it into a home. Right now, Hermione and Kreacher had been working together, despite his muttering objections at first, on cleaning and airing it out. There were some areas where it seemed that no amount of magic or old-fashioned elbow grease made any progress whatsoever, while other parts of the house now looked really nice. The bedrooms hadn’t been changed at all, and Hermione wasn’t entirely sure what they should do about those.
The main two they used had belonged to Sirius and Regulus, and she was hesitant to just go in, box things up, and remove all traces of the former occupants. At least, without Harry’s permission. And he’d had enough to deal with lately, from calmly walking to his expected death to losing the last living link to his father, without her bringing up the fact that they’d really have to sort the bedrooms if they intended to actually remain here, which she hoped they did. For at least a little while.
Still, there was enough to keep her busy in between funerals and obligations. She wanted to stay busy, because there was so much she hadn’t allowed herself to think about or that she hadn’t properly analyzed and tucked away into the appropriate area of her mind. She had cried for those lost, soaked her pillow with her tears during the sleepless nights, and she’d cried for the living, those who had suffered or had no real direction.
She was one of the latter, and she’d felt aimless and restless since the war ended. It seemed that her entire purpose for living for the last few years had been to help Harry. That had become her responsibility from the moment he and Ron saved her from a troll all those years ago. Even when she’d not said anything, her main goal had always been to make sure those two boys survived. With Harry, she had almost failed, and that was still something she hadn’t really wrapped her mind around, nearly losing him like that. With Ron, she hoped she’d played a part in his survival, but she hadn’t been able to save his entire family, which meant a small piece of him had died.
The last week had been spent trying to be there for Harry and Ron. She worried about them both, and she knew that she wasn’t able to really help with what they were going through, but she had to try. There were times when they both seemed okay, or as okay as anyone was right now, and then there were times when they got quiet or looked so lost that her heart ached. She was glad that they were all here together, because she needed them even more than they needed her, but she just wished there was some way she could make it better, even if she knew there wasn’t anything she could really do.
Oddly enough, she was better at thinking about Ron and Harry and at dealing with her own guilt over not being fast enough with her research or not finding the answers quickly than she was at dealing with what she went through personally. The last year had been full of so many emotions, and she’d broken down more times than she could count, but she still hadn’t done anything more with the events in April than push them aside and ignore them as best she could.
Harry had needed her support at Shell Cottage, Ron had needed her to be perfectly fine, and she’d always just needed to be needed, so, really, it was much too easy to not think about Malfoy Manor or what happened there. Of course, she’d also not dealt with what she’d done to her parents or with what she’d seen and done at the Ministry of Magic months before, so perhaps it just got easier to avoid such things. She was good at avoiding personal things, even if she nagged and scolded others for trying similar tactics. In this case, she could privately admit that she was a complete hypocrite.
Cleaning Grimmauld House and volunteering at Hogwarts could only fill so many hours, though, so it was only natural that she’d picked up a project that was extremely close to her heart, even more so now. Granted, S.P.E.W. had turned out to be a horrid name and she’d been too close-minded and focused to look at House Elves’ lives without personal bias, but she liked to think she’d grown up a lot in the last couple of years. She knew now that many House Elves were happy serving people, and that she couldn’t force them to accept her views anymore than she wanted them to accept being treated as lowly slaves by others.
After a lot of thought and consideration, she had finally started to work on an updated S.P.E.W. campaign. She was trying to approach it differently, taking what she’d learned into consideration and letting it develop as she made notes and worked on the details. She already had two issues that she wanted to focus on and thought might be beneficial, in some ways.
Of course, it was unlikely than anyone would join this one, even with a name change, since no one seemed to care years ago, but she didn’t care if it was just her, and Harry and Ron if she decided to nag them into joining. She thought it was the right thing to do, had for years even if she’d needed to grow up and realize she couldn’t force change without becoming nearly as awful as those who mistreated their House Elves.
She leaned back against the sofa listening to the sounds in Grimmauld as she worked on her notes for the group’s first project. If she was the only member of the group, so be it. She could never not stand up for what felt was right or try to improve the world for others just because she might be doing it alone. An American Muggle politician had once said that a tiny ripple of hope could cause others and that, together, those ripples build a current that could sweep down the mightiest walls of oppression and resistance. She had little use for Americans or politicians, in all honesty, but that quote had always spoke to her.
As she looked down at her list, she heard Ron walking on the staircase. She smiled as she wrote down more thoughts that occurred to her, perfectly content, for now, to be a tiny ripple.