Pain Doesn't Cost a Thing by Ron x Hermione
Chapter Notes: I know that you all are going to hate me for this chapter, but this had to be done. I love you all. You too, Kate.
Emma woke up and remembered her victory from the day before and smiled. She had won. Since Brett had been injured, his points had gone down. Gregoria too had been wounded and once again had been unable to complete the task. Emma had seen many Beauxbatons girls hanging their heads or snickering anytime Gregoria had walked past, and that had sent the girl on the verge of tears at some points.
While Emma had not finished at an utterly amazing time, she had completed the task and found an item that had aided her, and it had been the smartest thing the crowd had seen in those three battles. While Gregoria had tried to run right past the beast and acquire the key, Brett had attempted to whistle, and that had gotten him nothing but a rather deep bite wound on the arm. Emma had been the only one that hadn’t been injured, thus she had received the most points, winning the task. No classes had really been serious throughout the rest of that day: all of the professors had known how hyped up their students would be, so they had only had to do a few things before being able to chat with friends for the rest of class. There had been quite a party in the Ravenclaw common room that night. Someone had managed to sneak in some fireworks from a shop in Diagon Alley (Emma couldn’t quite remember the name of the store, but thought it started with a W), a few rebels had crept down into the kitchens through a passageway and the house elves had brought them all food, and the music and chatter hadn’t died down until nearly four in the morning. Emma had been the center of attention nearly the entire time, and the night was dedicated to her discussing the task and how easy it had been, her friends bashing Gregoria and Brett’s good names (though Emma had cringed a bit about what they were saying), and a night of relaxation had been spent nicely.
Now as Emma sat up in her bed, she looked over to the side and saw Kelly sleeping peacefully. She turned her head and found Eva’s bed empty: perhaps she had fallen asleep over some homework or was still down in the common room, talking and partying. She smiled, thinking of how her life was finally coming together. She had made up with Eva, and Kelly and she were the best friends they could be. Brett and she were going steady and strong, and Emma knew that love was what she felt for him. There was nothing compared to the feeling she got in her heart when she thought of him. It was like flying over a hill in a car when she was with her mother, and it felt as if her heart were jumping every direction and leaping to create that funny feeling. She loved Brett. She just couldn’t think it enough.
She hadn’t spoken to her mother in a while. She had promised her (and had always done it) that she would write to her at least once a week to check up on things and speak about how her own life was going. She had to tell her mother how Brett had come back to Hogwarts, if only for the year . . . and the tournament and how she had done! She had already spoken to her about how she had entered the tournament and how she had done on the first task, but she had yet to write about how she had been doing on the other tasks. She had to inform her about her developing relationship with Brett.
Emma and her mother were very close. It was just saddening that it had taken something as horrific as her father’s death to bring them together that way. They told each other everything: Ms. Collins was as good as one of Emma’s best friends, and she couldn’t go long without hearing her voice or at least speaking to her.
The sun was just beginning to sneak in through the common room window, so she knew that it was sometime around five o’clock in the morning. Everyone would be getting up within the next hour. She tried to push the looming certainty of the third task out of her mind that took place the next day, but she couldn’t seem to not think about it.
Tomorrow’s the last one, Em, a voice told her, then you’re going to be free of doing anything during the course of the rest of your seventh year. Free to be friends without evil stares for last place in the tournament, free to spend as much time with Brett as you like . . . That last thought in itself made Emma smile and that flittering feeling in her chest started up again. Brett’s image formed in front of her eyes and she thought about him all the way down to the Owlry.
Brett and she had talked the night before about the third task, and they had turned the subject over and under as many times as they could, just contemplating on what it could possibly be. Emma had yet to speak to Professor Groban about the task, so no answer had come from him, and they hadn’t been a strange piece of parchment surface so far from Gregoria, so they had no assistance thus far. The only clue they had was Emma’s key, and that could have unlocked anything, so that didn’t really give them an answer to anything. She had kept it inside her pocket while they had both examined it the night before.
Emma walked quietly down the hall, just in case any students could possibly hear her. She didn’t want to wake anyone up at this hour, and she didn’t want to be followed. The letter she was supposed to be sending had yet to be written, but she found the Owlry a tranquil place to write or think, even with the unkempt environment and rotten smell of bird droppings.
She crossed the room to the window ledge, propping her feet against the wall as her back hit the other and she put the parchment she had brought with her in her lap. The quill she used was worn and the self-ink it held inside itself was beginning to dry up. She hadn’t realised that when she had grabbed it: she hoped it would hold out until the letter was finished.
After an in-depth account of the second task and how she had won, Emma felt even more proud of herself than she already had, actually writing it down like that. She then described to her mother about Brett, and all he had done for her in the past week. She didn’t go into detail about their relationship, but she did hint that they were a bit more than friends.
She finished her letter with ’Well, hope all is well, and signed it with her name. She now had a letter that took up three full pieces of parchment in her own cramped and cursive handwriting, and she shook her hand to rid it of the numb feeling she now had. She smiled as she sealed it and tied it around the owl nearest her’s leg. It then took off, leaving her alone. The sun was now shining quite brightly now, so she supposed that it must be time for breakfast, though many students would still be dressing and getting ready for their new day. She decided to find Brett, if he was up yet, and have an early breakfast with him.
She descended the steps slowly, a mounting feeling rising in her chest again of another meeting with Brett coming upon her. Even if it was just breakfast, it felt like a feast to Emma because of his presence. She sighed and hopped off the last step, spinning around in circles a full three times before almost running into a wall. Before she turned the corridor, however, she checked to make sure she hadn’t been being watched and made herself look like an idiot in front of a spectator.
And then, the next image she saw flash in front of her brain made her heart literally stop.
A boy with blonde hair that had ends that curled under his ears, the most beautiful eyes, and adorable smile was intertwined with another girl. Her leg was wrapped around his and their lips were touching the other’s. The girl’s hands were moving through his hair passionately. The girl even seemed to see Emma but ignored her and continued to stay in the embrace. The boy seemed to be grinning into the girl’s gentle kiss as he noticed the snivelling girl out of the corner of his eyes. Emma’s mouth dropped open.
Brett.
Emma nearly retched upon the sight. How could this happen? How could this happen? Brett, her boyfriend, was kissing Eva. Eva, her best friend, was kissing Brett. The two had betrayed her.
Emma closed her eyes and tried desperately to force the image from her brain. She ducked into another corridor to where she could still glimpse the two, though she couldn’t dare look. She tried to block the tears that were now falling pitifully from her eyes--- she tried to unblock the barrier inside her throat that was causing her to gasp aloud to acquire air--- she tried to keep her knees from buckling to the floor as she tried to keep consciousness. This wasn’t--- could not be happening. Not Brett. Not her first love, not her childhood friend from so long ago. Not Brett, the guidance in her life, her reassurance when she sought it. How could he do this to her?
Emma felt the world go black and her eyes gave in. She crashed to the floor, unconscious, as her boyfriend continued to kiss her best friend, the girl not even fazing them as they continued to stay in the other’s tight grip.
~ * ~
Emma lay in her bed, no emotion showing on her usually elated face. Her cheeks were now raw from being wiped at with the thick, cotton fabric from the sweater she wore, her eyes swollen from the endless amount of crying she had done in the past few hours. She felt under her pillow for the comfort of the key she had received in the second task, it being the only sign of reassurance that she was worth living: that she was meant to represent her school and not to give up. That was where she kept it now, and it hadn’t left her bed since she had put it there the night before. She hadn’t even visited all her classes, knowing that she would have automatically erupted into tears on sight of seeing Brett in his usual seat beside her. They had only that class together, and had cherished it. She couldn’t stand to see him inside her mind, couldn’t bear to hear his sweet, comforting voice inside her head, the voice she had long since remembered as the one she always sought after for guidance, and she definitely couldn’t stand to think of all the time they had spent together up to this point, kissing and holding hands anytime they felt, never feeling awkwardness or embarrassment when it was done. It had all been for nothing, and Emma couldn’t help but tell herself that over and over again. She couldn’t stand to think of any of these things, though she couldn’t stand to not think about her love for him, and how it had thrived like a monster raging inside of her, never ceasing. She had truly loved Brett. She had really, truly loved him.
And he had stamped on her heart as if it were a lowly piece of trash in Diagon Alley.
Brett now paraded around with Eva as if she were a trophy, showing her off and kissing her any chance he got, especially when he was in front of Emma. He had been doing it all day, ever since a wandering student had found Emma on the floor. The nurse had figured she had been hexed by a cruel passerby, but Emma had told her that that was not the case. She hadn’t let Emma go back to classes willingly, but Emma had gone right back to her dormitory, not even pretending that she was going to go back to classes after she had received a blow such as this one.
Emma usually burst into a crying fit and forced herself not throw up on the spot anytime she saw the two, running off into a lavatory or her own dormitory anytime she saw them together, no less showing affection in plain sight.
The third task was approaching, and Emma found it easier to crawl up in a corner and rot instead of breathe. She couldn’t even think. She couldn’t talk to anyone about this: no one had been through what she had been through. No one could comfort her without bring up heartbreaking memories, which made her feel even worse. Classes flew by her like a blur and she didn’t remember even one tiny detail few minutes after they were over. Brett had moved to another chair on the other side of the classroom next to Eva, leaving Emma friendless, boyfriend-less, and alone. Kelly couldn’t even speak to her she was so shocked by what Eva had done: there were no words to say but apologies, and Emma didn’t want to hear them from her; they meant nothing unless they were actually meant and came from the offender.
This was only the first week of school back and Emma found herself wishing she could either go back home or transfer. Transferring was out of the question, and going home would only be shown as a weakness: she couldn’t do either one. She would have to suffer through it. Suffer terribly through it.
She still had to represent her school, though. That was the only thing that kept her running.
~ * ~
The next morning Emma felt sicker than she had ever been in her entire life. She had been up all night, still weeping over her loss while Eva had dared come back to the common room (even early just to tease) and talk about her and Brett’s day together to Kelly right in front of Emma. Emma had fought the urge to grab the girl from behind and murder her, but she had also fought the urge not to run out of the room and throw up again.
Her body felt as if it had been hit by a train. If she even had gotten any sleep, it couldn’t have been more than an hour in the early morning. Her head throbbed, her nose was stuffed, and her throat still felt restricted from the endless amount of crying she had done. Sleep had been the only thing she had thought would make her forget, but she had been wrong. The few dreams she had had that night when had dozed off for those short periods of time were filled with Brett as the final task, and how she had had to get past a kissing Eva and him to finish. She had failed and the entire school had looked down upon her for the rest of her life and she had never been able to get a job because of how stupid she was for not being able to finish the task. She remembered again only a second after she had awoken what had made her feel that way.
She looked over at Eva and once again clashed with the recommendation inside her addled brain to strangle Eva in her sleep with her pillow. She shook her head and walked out of the common room. She was going to have to confront Brett before she completed the task that day. She had to face him before she did in front of the entire school.
She walked to the Great Hall an hour later to see him and Eva eating breakfast together, Brett disgustingly allowing her to eat off his own fork as she smiled.
Emma didn’t even know what she had done to Eva to make her act this way. She had just advised her to not go out with Seth because he was a bad guy. She was a friend and had been her friend; that was her job. She couldn’t understand why Eva had taken Brett from her, but most of all, why Brett had willingly gone.
She turned around to walk out of the Great Hall, but immediately stopped and closed her eyes to fight the tears again. She could not cry now. Not now. She wiped the tears away; she hadn’t even been noticed yet. With a grim look on her face and hoping her eyes didn’t appear puffy and tearful, she sat on the other side of Brett at the table. Brett motioned for Eva to scoot down for a bit with a kiss on the cheek to allow Emma and him to talk.
“Brett . . . H---” She closed her eyes, fighting tears once again. She didn’t want to show him any sign of vulnerability. She couldn’t show him weakness or he would just laugh. They hadn’t even spoken since the night of the second task. The next morning had been a blur to her, but she could remember fully what had been done to upset her. That revolting image was there anytime she closed her eyes. “How could you do this to me? Why?”
Brett only stared at her with an odd look on his face. It wasn’t one that was upset. It was one that was trying to decipher whether or not he should pity the girl.
“The price of being a champion is worth more than loving someone,” Brett said. “You should know that, Emma.” He stepped out from his seat and took Eva’s hand, walking away without a backward glance.
He hadn’t even given her an answer and he had strolled off. The price of being a champion is worth more than loving someone? That statement in itself brought Emma to tears. So, he had never even loved her? He had only feigned his love to get to her? What he was he even playing at? Why had he even pretended if there was no point, nothing to gain?
Emma ran back to her dormitory again to wallow in bitter memories. She would never again kiss Brett Macauley and call him her own.
And that killed a piece of her inside. Her heart no longer felt that jumping feeling when she thought of Brett. Now when she thought of him, she had to resist the urge not to get sick.
But as she got back to her dormitory, Emma reached under her pillow, searching for her one item of of comfort, the key, to find nothing there. Someone had stolen the key while she had been gone.
---
Yes, I am very sorry.