Ron was always doing that to her, being suggestive. Hermione felt bad that he didn’t realize what was going on. Going behind his back like she had been for the past three years had been painful, but how could she tell him? So she put her clothes back on and left the house, going off to see him, to be with him again.

Draco’s flat was in total disarray. The furniture was strewn across the flat; things were where they never should have been. The bed was flipped over, The food from the kitchen was all over the house, and there sat Draco, in the middle of it all, torn between feeling elated at the fact that he and Hermione could be together, upset because his life had been turned upside down, literally, and ashamed that Hermione had to see his apartment like this.

“So…” Harry said, trying to start the conversation.

“Harry, promise me that no matter what, you won’t hate me, okay?”

“Hermione, you know I think of you as a sister…there’s no way I could ever hate you.”

“You won’t be saying that after I’m through today.” She took a pause to collect all her thoughts and figure out a way to tell Harry what had happened. “Harry, Ron and I broke up.”