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Chapter Text

“I never pegged you as a master herbalist.”

Cho scoffed, the only indication that she had been paying attention to Hermione’s chatter; her fingers were steady and light as she moved the soil aside in order to replant the new batch of mint from the muggle plant shop in Manchester. Gardening had become a much needed hobby after Cedric, her mind shut off and her hands moved in order to provide a blanket of peace; if only for a short while.

“Oh, I’m sorry,” the easy, relaxed position Hermione was sitting in shattered, her spine straightened and her face solemn. “Forget I asked….”

The bushy-haired girl got a lot of heat throughout Hogwarts for being a swotty know-it-all, but ever since Hermione had stumbled across the anti-muggle wards lining both of their separate family’s property, Cho had learned a lot about the younger girl. Most importantly being that they had been neighbors for some time; that Hermione’s muggle cul-de-sac bordered alongside the hidden magical community that Cho’s family had lived in. 

Cho also learned that despite her tendency to run her mouth like she was a walking monotone encyclopedia, Hermione Granger made up for her stinging comments and brutally honest jabs by trying to make Cho feel better. Hermione wasn’t openly a warm person, an awkward girl who never really knew how to comfort people. It was a good thing that Cho wasn’t either.

“Yeah?” Cho wiped the sweat from her forehead, trying not to smear dirt on her face. “I never pegged you as a fan of cheap erotic—”

She had to dodge the hex this time, a burst of laughter spilling forth as Hermione missed her bat bogey hex and shattered a clay pot several yards to the right of Cho.

“You twit! I told you to never bring that up again!” Hermione screeched, the sight of Granger’s hair standing on end and her face red with embarrassment was too hilarious for Cho to handle.

“Hey,” Cho tried to speak through the laughing fit, her stomach cramping from the effects. “You brought that upon yourself when you snuck your mum’s rosè over and got the both of us absolutely smashed!”

“What happens under the effects of rosè, stay within the drunken confines that rosè has to offer.”

Smirking, Cho flicked her wand, shooting a spray of dirt into Hermione’s lap.

“Oh Merlin!” Hermione shot up, eyes sparkling with unhidden mirth. “You’re gonna get it this time, you brat!”

With a squeal that Cho would forever deny making, she stumbled to her feet in order to run from Hermione suddenly charging her. Laughter filled the backyard, dancing through the swaying leaves of the willow trees that lined the Chang’s back yard. The previous summer had been desolate and quiet, but now Cho found that she could smile again. Slowly but surely.

Even if that meant having to deal with the endearing and rather hilarious acts of awkward kindness that Hermione Granger had to offer.

Chapter Text

Home had always been a safe space. Warmth and comfort, family and acceptance. Hermione always craved the natural order that her family home provided for her. It was an escape from primary school, she could nestle up in a warm blanket on the couch and read for hours in front of the fire instead of being teased and called names all day long. Safety had always been prevalent, establishing structure and order in one's life so that everything could flow in harmony.

It was incredibly ironic that just beyond the backyard fence of her safety net, a leap into the void laid beyond. The Granger’s had lived in the neighborhood ever since Hermione was born, and not once had she realized that a wizarding community lived just behind them. In her years of hiding away and delving deeper into any and all books she could gather, Hermione had missed out on meeting her own kind until now.

The summer heat had picked up since Hermione had gotten home from school. The week since had been spent under the covers, trying to forget the horrible things she had seen in the ministry. She watched Sirius Black, Harry’s godfather, die in front of them, she had been close to being struck with a terrible curse, and she had seen with her own two eyes Voldemort appear before them. Being friends with Harry Potter had set Hermione up for rigorous research and public disdain. Many of the wizarding public had doubted Harry’s claims of Voldemort returning over the last year, which resulted in isolation and mockeries made against their name. 

Sometimes Hermione had to catch herself from believing He-Who-Must-Not-Be-Named was a mystical villain from one of her novels, actually seeing his face in the flesh made everything much, much more real.

To escape the heat and her parents' worry, Hermione decided to venture outside and find some shade in the woods behind the neighborhood to sit and read. Or maybe even come up with a plan on how to help aid Harry in the all-too-real fight against Voldemort. At that rate, Hermione didn’t care what she got up to, she just needed to get out of the stifling house and find her footing.

Her books in hand and a tumbler filled with homemade lemonade, Hermione escaped out the back door and into the backyard. It was still morning, yet the sun beating down overhead was in full swing. Shielding the light from her eyes, Hermione opened the gate to the fence and locked it behind her, facing the woods she had never ventured into before. 

Vague memories of childhood rumors rang through her mind as she stepped forward, ignoring the crunch of dead, drying grass beneath her feet. She recalled her parents and the other neighborhood kids whispering about what laid beyond the trees. Sometimes the call of wolves pierced the night, foxes yipped somewhere deep inside the dark, and other ominous animal noises kept the families far away from what lay beyond the edge of the forest.

Hermione had never felt turned away from the forest before, not like how the rest of the neighborhood felt. Curiosity took over eventually, and Hermione parted a branch out of the way and stepped foot inside. As she gathered her bearings, Hermione was puzzled at what she was seeing. There was a well worn path, weaving its way through a large, tight expanse of trees, stopping right before a large house in the distance. Squinting, Hermione could make out a neatly trimmed garden, a tall greenhouse to the side, and a lovely pond surrounded by tall weeping willow trees.

There was a girl, sitting in the garden and digging furiously like her life depended on it. Needing answers as to why she had never known about this house in the woods before, Hermione walked down the path. The closer she got, the more nervous she felt. The girl looked distressed, she was grunting and panting while furiously shoving her shovel down into the earth, tossing the dirt aimlessly over her back. Hermione wanted to turn around and pretend she wasn’t witnessing a girl have a mental breakdown in her garden, but suddenly the girl threw the shovel to the side and collapsed to her knees. 

The shovel flew at Hermione, right before it could hit her she defensively held her wand up to stop the impact. With a start, the girl looked up at hearing the spell muttered from Hermione’s lips.

“Granger?” Cho Chang stared up at her, eyes full of tears and squinted in confusion.

“Er hi,” Hermione stuttered, feeling incredibly awkward. “Do you live here?”

For a moment, Cho only continued to stare at Hermione in confusion. Finally blinking out of it, Cho stared down at her lap, now covered in dirt that she had been shovelling. To Hermione’s surprise, Cho barked out a laugh that sounded wrong given the fact that tears were still streaming down Cho’s face.

“What kind of bloody question is that, Granger? Of course I live here, would I be tearing up some strangers' gardens if I wasn’t?!”

“You might,” Hermione pushed past the stifling awkwardness she felt, “Maybe a summer job as a landscaper. Do wizards have landscapers? Why aren’t you using magic to do so, it would be much faster. In fact, I do know a spell—”

“Shut up,” Cho tried to brush it off with a laugh, but it morphed into a strangled sob. She stood up on shaky legs and grabbed the shovel again, glancing over at Hermione to take her all in. “What are you doing here? I’m busy and don’t want to answer your bloody questions.”

“Is this because of Marietta?” Hermione snapped, trying not to show her offence, “I apologized for that, and I would greatly appreciate—”

“No,” Cho hissed, her body lunging forward and up in Hermione’s personal space. Her breath wreaked of firewhisky and the saltiness of freshly shed tears. “The world doesn’t revolve around you or Harry bloody Potter, Granger. Some of us have far worse things to deal with than your stupid, bloody Gryffindor egos!”

Hermione’s jaw snapped shut from the mean retort she wanted to fire back. It hit her like a ton of bricks then, how could she have forgotten about Cedric Diggory? She recalled the memory of Harry describing his first kiss with Cho, how she had been crying and very obviously grieving her first love. The papers had been going on about Voldemort since his appearance in the ministry, now spinning tales of what Harry had recounted after the Tri-Wizard Tournament and what he had seen. Old wounds were being reopened, and Cho was still grieving.

“I apologize,” Hermione couldn’t look the girl in the eyes, Cho was taller than her and held herself in a very intimidating gait. “I-I don’t know what you are going through, obviously it’s not about me.”

Silence filled the limited air between them. Hermione finally dared to look up at Cho, taking a step back so she could regain some sense of control. Slowly, the tension in Cho’s thin shoulders drooped, the last shreds of her composure fading away. She looked tired, weary, eyes full of the same level of anguish Hermione had seen in Harry’s eyes just a week prior. 

She shuddered at the memory, and the fact that somebody else had to go through such similar heartbreak in Voldemort’s need for power and control snapped something within her. For Harry, Hermione would do anything in order to make him smile again, but she didn’t know Cho very well, so why were her heartstrings being tugged and yanked on? 

“What are you trying to plant?” Hermione anxiously fiddled with her hands, trying to change the topic in order for Cho to stop glaring at her.

“....shrubs, I want them to line around this perimeter here for the garden I plan on planting here.” Cho awkwardly answered, her brows still in a hard, tense line.

“You need pretty deep holes, right? I remember reading about that when I was seven and trapped in the plant section of the library in primary school.”

“Yes….” Cho tilted her head in confusion, squinting her eyes at Hermione. “How could you, Hermione Granger, be trapped in the library? I would think that would be more pleasurable than not.”

“Oh no, I chose to be in the library on that day, but I was hiding from Eliza Merburry and Beatrice Lang that day. They always pulled at my hair and called me names, so I hid in the closest aisle for the entire lunch period.” 

Cho was silent once more, the tension in her face slowly began to ease into a neutral frown. She stalked off to the greenhouse without a word, Hermione wasn’t sure if she was supposed to follow or not. Rooted to the ground in confused silence, Hermione watched Cho dig around before coming back with a similar shovel to her own, handing it to Hermione gruffly. Without looking when addressing her, Cho began to dig again as she spoke.

“Start digging Granger, if you’re going to gawk at me I’d rather you make yourself useful than running your mouth.”

Nodding furiously, Hermione dropped her books and bags, and began to dig alongside Cho wordlessly.