Come on skinny love, just last the year
Pour a little salt, we were never here
"Maybe what we need is break; sometime apart to grow and become different people." His face showed no emotion nor did his voice falter or break. She knew he was serious, not that he wasn't the five other times he tried to tell her this, but there was something different about everything- his voice, demeanor and stature, something more strict and final sounding.
"If we end it now, maybe it won't be so hard to move on."
But she couldn't let this happen.
"Ron please, I'm trying. I'm trying so hard! If you leave me, who will be there? My parents are gone, your family practically hates me because of how I saved Malfoy and you are the only person I have left. Please just give me some time."
Of course she knew it was low blow- to use the death of her family and his own living family against him- but she needed him to stay. It was an obsessive need to have him near.
She needed him to help her.
She needed him to remind her of whom she once was and who she could be.
She needed him to pick up the broken pieces of herself, because for so long it was what they had been doing. It was how they started, by picking up each other's pieces. Somewhere along the line though, he bucked up and picked up his own, he started taking care of her then. On nights when she was paralyzed with grief, he would bathe her, and dress her then tuck her into bed with a kiss goodnight, a whispered, I love you, and a promise that tomorrow would be kinder.
That had been going on for three years.
Eventually the invites for Sunday brunch at Weasleys stopped coming and small signs started to show. He stopped saying the 'L' word as he tucked her in, he stopped making promises, and on certain nights she could even smell some perfume and see some lipstick smudges on the collars of his button down shirts he had become fond of.
On a day when she had been feeling better than usual she opened a letter: it made her numb.
"How is the girl? What's her name again? Margaret? Janet? Something that ends with an '-et' right? Have you told 'Mione yet? She deserves to know, you know that right?'
She calmly folded the letter back up; not bothering to finish it because she knew only two people used that nickname and she already knew who wrote it.
My, my, my, my, my, my, my, my, my, my Staring at the sink of blood and crushed veneer
"Dammit 'Mione! I've given you plenty of time! I've given you three out of the four years we have been together to sort yourself out, and yet you seem no different! How am I supposed to support you if you show no signs of progressing?"
He stomped away down the hallway that was outside their bedroom door; by the sound of it he had just slammed and locked himself in their bathroom.
She had convinced him to keep going for a little longer, even though he was very reluctant to do so. She asked him even though she knew that her security came at the price of his happiness.
There was a loud crash of what sounded like something shattering, a pause, some stomping, then another loud crash followed by a string of expletives. She heard the bathroom door swing open then in a flash he came barreling in the bedroom clutching his hand.
It was bloody.
She felt her eyes widen in panic and worry, the first very real emotions besides depression she had felt in years.
"Oh don't start feeling things now 'Mione. Not after all this time. Not after everything else that has happened. I don't want your pity for a bloody hand."
He grabbed a dirty shirt from the floor that could've been either of theirs, and wrapped it around his knuckles, using his teeth to pull the knot he had tied. After that was done he searched the room, messing it up as he did. He threw clothes from the closet every-which-way, some hitting her face and landing in her lap, but she didn't move. The feeling of the fabric suddenly touching her made her feel human.
He finally stopped and held up a leather jacket with the uninjured hand.
"I'm going to Harry's. Don't bother cleaning anything up, you might see something and go into another episode and do accidental magic."
Then he left with a wave of his hand in a dismissive manner. The whole time he didn't look at her. Not once.
What could have been hours after the front door slammed, she got up from the bed, lurching forward a bit as blood rushed to her legs. She walked to the door with one hand holding onto a bed post and the other reaching out to grasp the door handle.
She opened the door slowly, listening as the creaking echoed around the empty rooms and bounced off doors and walls. She walked down the hallway with her body practically glued to the wall with one arm reaching behind her to touch the wall as she walked. Her footsteps made quiet noises as she stepped on the plush carpet.
The first thing she noticed as she waked into the bathroom was the huge gaping hole in the middle of the mirror that was outlined with dozens of cracks and glass shard hanging by their corners, still moving, dangling precariously on the line of wholeness and shards, not that they weren't already shards. The next thing that caught her eye was the sink.
It had glass, pieces of the vase that was usually kept on the counter and blood. She moved so she was standing directly over it, with both hands on either side of the sink.
For the first time in years she cried. She cried so hard she fell to the tile floor in a mass of clothes that used to fit and tangled hair.
Sometime later she heard a voice. It whispered to her, or maybe it just sounded that way to her.
"Oh, 'Mione…"
She heard heavy footsteps.
"Repairo… Scourgify..."
She heard the sound of squeaking and water running, and knew the vase and mirror had been fixed and the blood cleaned out. Then there were hands on her, lifting her, riding her of clothes, and setting her in the tub, she could tell her savior's identity by his voice. The nickname narrowed it down to two people, and the voice left only one person.
There was gasp and another whispered conversation.
"Ginny, come here. I don't think I'll be able to do this."
Seconds- Or maybe minutes- later more feminine hands were touching her. A soft voice cooed to her as the hands washed her with water that had been mysteriously drawn into the tub.
"Oh, Hermione…"
"…all skin and bones…"
"Why do this?"
"We need you with us."
I told my love to wreck it all
Cut off all the ropes and let me fall
My, my, my,
my, my, my,
my, my, my, my,
Right at the moment this order's tall
Maybe you should just run to that slag you've been whoring around with! Let the prophet see for all I care, since you obviously have no reserves for the public eye! Dangle me in front of the reporters by a rope and toss me to them once you announce we're through! Let them crowd me and tear at me with questions while you get off scotch free, since we both know you'll be made the victim in this situation.
It had been two months since Harry and Ginny had found her that night in the bathroom. Apparently Ron had gone to their shared apartment telling them about what had happened before leaving again.
Ginny had sat on their bad cradling Hermione's head and stroking her hair while Harry held her hand. They talked to her and told her about how Teddy had been asking about her, about how Fleur was pregnant and about how even Malfoy wanted to know how she was doing. They told her that it was okay to grieve but sometimes you needed to put on a smile and fight through the sadness with false happiness. So that is what she did.
She woke up one morning and decided that she was going to be happy. She put on a smile and made breakfast for her and Ron and gave Ron the most vague answer when he asked her what was up with her that day, "I'm smiling." He had nodded and ate the breakfast she made. He left for work that morning by giving her a kiss on the head and leaving, even though it was Friday, and she knew Harry always gave Ron Fridays off.
Today, she had caught them in their own bed. They hadn't done anything completely damaging as far as she knew, but it still knocked the wind out of her. Especially since today had been the first time she left the house in three years to go into Diagon Alley for some supplies.
After she had left the room and Ron had escorted his mistress out the door, she blew up on him.
"In my own bed Ronald? You couldn't at least do me the favor and do it on something easily cleanable? Like a rug? Or even the carpet? At least you can shampoo carpet!"
"Merlin 'Mione! These past couple days you've been on my back like my mum used to be! Expect more bipolar! I'm starting to miss the days where you sat around like a brain dead-"
He didn't get to finish the sentence because next thing he knew she was shouting at him to dangle her form a rope in front of some reporters. This was the most alive she had felt in years! She almost wanted to cry, or was that laughter? It had been so long since she last laughed that she almost forgot what it felt like to force a giggle down.
She didn't even get to see who the bitch was.
And I told you to be patient
And I told you to be fine
And I told you to be balanced
And I told you to be kind
After the incident, her depression came back full swing, and no amount of pretending to smile could stop it from progressing. Today was the worst she had been in a few days, she did nothing besides lay in bed all day sleeping or staring at the ceiling. She didn't even flinch when Ron came barging in demanding she do something anything, to let him know she was still alive. He threw a whole slew of words at her, some of them hurtful, well most of them hurtful (it's like taking care of a mentally ill child 'Mione! If I wanted one I could adopt one, but I didn't. Instead I'm stuck with a girl in my home too stupid to do anything!), and so she rolled over to her side and brought her knees to her chest. She closed her eyes and waited until he left the room.
She had nothing to say to him.
She was asleep when voices woke her up. She couldn't depict any of what they were saying through walls and a door that was ajar, so naturally she got up to investigate. Investigating was good; it was sliver of the old her.
"How many times did I tell you Ron? You can't yell at her like that! It only sets her back further!"
She assumed this was Harry, because he was the only male besides Ron that gave enough of a damn to still try and communicate with her.
"I know! I know! But you should see her she looks like she's dead! She's just a waste of space at this point! I don't see why she just doesn't bloody end it if she's this miserable!"
She arrived in the door way of the dining room in time to see Harry reach a fist back and punch Ron directly in the face; neither of them saw her yet. Harry picked up Ron off the floor by his collar and smashed him onto the table.
"Take that back you bastard!'
"You try having her living in your house, using your resources without so much as a contribution! I mean I'm not even shagging her! The least she could do is let at her at least two times a week to pay off everything she uses!"
She sucked in a breath just as Harry Picked Ron up and smashed him back down again. This time though, Harry saw her.
"'Mione…" he dropped Ron, who landed with a grunt, and made his way towards her, his hands in front of him and his palms up as if she was a stray he was trying gain trust with. Without really knowing what she was doing, she found herself backing up as Harry took steps towards her, then she turned and ran. She ran towards the front door, grabbed her coat and swiftly bent down to pick up her flats that lay forgotten by the door. She swung the door open and took a couple steps before closing her eyes and apparating away.
She landed outside of Flourish and Blotts. She sighed after doing a once over of herself to make sure she hadn't splinched herself, and found nothing wrong. She knew Flourish and Blotts was closed already, so without even looking up at the windows she walked away to find somewhere to slip on her shoes and jacket. She found a set of stairs that led up to apartments and sat down. She stayed sitting down even after her shoes were on, even after it began to pour rain, only leaving when her hands and feet were so numb she couldn't feel them.
She walked aimlessly and found herself in front of a café that wasn't here last she had been to visit Diagon Alley. It was called Rosie's. She peered through the windows and glad to see that only a few people were inside. Her hands fluttered to her pockets to check if she had any Galleons, Knuts or Sickles to pay for something. When her hands came back with a fistful of coins she nodded to herself and stepped inside, ignoring the odd looks she was getting for her outfit- an orange tank top, black sweat pants, yellow ballet flats and an unbuttoned red pea coat.
After ordering some coffee, that she didn't really remember the name of, she sat at a table and just held the coffee, letting the warmth seep through the cup and into her hands, almost to the point of pain. She sat there for Merlin knows how long, not drinking her coffee and just staring at the liquid swirl in cup, until someone said her name, well last name.
"Granger?"
Without looking up she responded, "Malfoy."
To her surprise, he pulled out a chair and sat. She should have been angry that he sat without asking if that spot was taken, but she was just too exhausted.
It was awkward at first, filled with silence but then he started talking. He apologized for school, and the way he was always such a jerk, he also said thank you, thank you because if she hadn't grabbed his arm when they were apparating out of Malfoy Manor after her and her friends capture, he wasn't sure what would have happened to him. She accepted his apologies and told him not thank her because it was what any one should have done.
Then he asked her, "How are you? Weasley's sister- Ginny I think it is, right?- she tells me your fine, but I know for a fact that you're not because If you were you would not have been sitting here for the past two and a half hours staring at a cup of coffee."
Then she broke down. It started slowly, first with only a couple tears slipping down her cheeks and falling into her coffee that was cold by now, to full on sobs, hiccupping and heaving included.
"Tell me, Hermione."
As she started describing everything and getting into detail about how she felt the death of everyone who died on her shoulders, even though she knew it was ridiculous to feel like it was all her fault, and how she wants to get better, but every time she does, she breaks down again, and how she didn't know why she was this bad and why she couldn't better.
Then he did something that surprised her; he moved his chair around so he could sit next to her, and wrapped his arms around her. They spent the next unknowable amount of hours sitting there, talking, asking questions about each other, but most important of all, they sat there and became friends.
And in the morning, I'll be with you
But it will be a different kind
'Cause I'll be holding all the tickets
And you'll be owning all the fines
Last night Malfoy had let her pour her heart and soul out to him. He nodded his head and 'Mhmmm-d' at the right moments, he even let her cry into his expensive feeling robes.
After she had slowed down her hiccups he took hold of her shoulders and told her something she desperately needed to hear, "You need to break up. I know the thought scares you witless but being with him is hurting you and him. He reminds you too much of the people you couldn't save, and I'm willing to bet he's still angry about the people he couldn't save too, including his brother. I know you think that everyone will be mad at you if you initiate the breakup, but if they are your real friends they will love you regardless. I think you need to go home, talk everything out so the air is clear between you two, then tell him that you're ready to let go."
She left without a word after that.
She entered her shared apartment with Ron sometime the next morning. She had taken two steps past the door when bundle of blankets with long red hair came barreling towards her, almost knocking her back out through the still open door into the hallway.
"Hermione Jean Granger, you tell me where you have been! Harry, Ron and I have been sitting here waiting for you to come home! Where did you go?"
She held Ginny, whom despite being younger had grown to be almost a whole head taller than her, at arm's length and just looked at her. It had been so long since she had actually looked at things. Normally everything passes her eyes and is barely registered, but this time she could see details that about her best girl-friends face that weren't there last time she had looked at her. Her hair wasn't as shiny and fell kind of limply around her shoulders and back, her skin was pale- almost Malfoy pale! – Her eyes had black and blue circles under them, yet somehow she still amazed Hermione with how pretty she managed to look.
"I was out…"
"…Talking to a friend."
At that moment every mouth in the room dropped.
Come on skinny love, what happened here?
Suckle on the hope in light brassiere
my, my, my, my, my, my, my, my, my, my, my, my
Sullen load is full, so slow on the split
She didn't tell them who the friend was; she didn't feel the need to. All she told them was that this friend helped her sort things out, that she felt better than ever and that she needed to talk to Ron.
Alone.
It took a while to convince Harry and Ginny to leave but once they did she turned to face Ron, who was already seated on the couch.
She walked to sit in the chair that was adjacent to him.
"I'm sure you already know what this is about"
He nodded, keeping his gaze on the floor.
"I don't want to know details, and I don't want to hear apologies. You can keep the apartment. I don't care about it, I mean it's not like I was paying for it right?"
He looked up then and she got her first look at what his face looked like since Harry had punched him: his lip was split and he had a good sized black eye, but she didn't feel sorry for him.
"I'll be out by tonight, in case you and your new girlfriend would like to christen the place."
And I told you to be patient
And I told you to be fine
And I told you to be balanced
And I told you to be kind
"Hermione, wait."
She turned around with a bag in her hand and others waiting for her by her feet.
"Yes Ron?"
"Where did we go wrong, I mean I was absolutely sure when we first got together that we were going to spend the rest of our years together."
She felt her anger rise up a little.
"We didn't go wrong anywhere Ronald. This all went to shite because of you. I told you to just wait, to just be patient with me, but I must have forgotten that by nature you are not a patient man."
She sighed.
"I just hope whoever she was she was worth it."
"How much did it cost?"
The question was worded oddly, Ron was never very eloquent when it came to speaking, but she knew what he was asking: What exactly was ruined by his infidelity?
What a great question, she thought. Would she be willing to forgive him so easily and be friends with him again? Even so, their friendship would never be what it used to be. Things would always be awkward she thought. Holidays spent with the Weasleys would be filled with open spaces; Sunday brunches would be nearly unavoidable once Molly heard she was back on her feet. She knew the Weasley matriarch would greet her with open arms despite breaking it off with her son once she knew the reason, but was she willing to subject herself to the scrutiny that being somewhere in the near area with him would cause?
The answer was no. She wasn't willing to face people that would only make her feel bad about standing up for herself. She wasn't ready, not yet.
"Everything, Ron. Everything."
With that she picked her bags back up and walked towards the door. As she was about to close it she added something else to her answer. Looking over her shoulder at him she whispered, "At least for now."
And now all your love is wasted
Then who the hell was I?
'Cause now I'm breaking at the bridges
And at the end of all your lines
The Daily Prophet lay on the table at Rosie's where he currently sat. She knew the feelings of sadness and a little betrayal were uncalled for, and that she had no right to feel them, but she did.
How could he do something so horrible, only the day after we broke up?
The front page news was about their breakup and featured a picture of her, and a picture of Ron with his new girlfriend, and in big black letters under the article title was a quote from Ron, "I'm glad it's over, as far as I'm concerned, the time I spent in that relationship was wasted. It couldn't have ended sooner."
She knew he had the right to believe what he wanted but did he really think so little of their past relationship that he feels nothing could be taught or gained from it? That certainly wasn't how she felt; she felt that in that relationship she had rediscovered how to stand up for herself, she found out how not to treat a significant other. Had he learned nothing from their past together?
No matter how she tried to reason it out, she couldn't get rid of how she was feeling. She wanted to cry but didn't think it was appropriate to, after she was the one who called it quits.
"You can cry, you know," said a voice over her shoulder. She would have jumped if she didn't feel so numb. She just nodded in reply.
"I know you want to."
She didn't know how was supposed to answer that, so she sat still.
"I cried too you know, not that that's something you should go around telling people, but if it makes you feel any better, then keep in mind that the great Draco Malfoy has cried."
At first she was confused, what did Malfoy have to cry about? That's when she remembered about Astoria Greengrass. She left him their wedding day; it was the only thing every media outlet was talking about for months. She just left him, waiting for her at the end of the aisle. He pulled out a chair and sat across form her after what she guessed he deemed a too long silence.
"No one's going to judge you if you cry."
She nodded.
"Do you have somewhere to stay?'
She shook her head. She hadn't slept last night; with bags shrunken down to pocket size she wandered the streets of Muggle London until she was sure something was open in Diagon Alley.
He walked around to her side of the table and held out his hand in a very gentlemanly fashion.
"Come with me."
"Where to?"
"My place, I have a guest bedroom that has your name written all over it."
Hesitantly she took his hand. For some unexplainable reason she trusted him, even though she barely knew him.
Who will love you?
Who will fight?
Who will fall,
Far behind?
They were curled up on the couch together, his arms around her waist and shoulders, and hers hugging him around his chest. They often sat like this after a particularly nasty article about her came out and she needed someone to just be there.
It had been about two months since her break up with Ron, but the articles still came out, all having quotes from interviews with Ron depicting her as the villain in the situation, which in turn caused rather harsh articles about her to come out.
She had refused to interact with anyone besides Draco, so she stayed indoors most days, cleaning or just sipping on a cup of tea while reading. It wouldn't have mattered if that's what she had chosen or not, because she had yet to get any attempts of communication from her friends. No owls, or floo calls, it wasn't as if they didn't know where she staying, Rita Skeeter took care of that by calling her nothing short of a common whore by living with Draco. She wasn't sure if she cared anymore.
She knew that she was getting bad again; she could tell Draco knew too, he tried everything he could to make her at least smile once a day, if he could get her to laugh, that was a bonus. She didn't want another repeat of Ron though, even if he did seem different, he actually tried to make her feel better. He spent days just sitting with her, and that meant more than he would ever know.
"I'll get better." She promised him, with her head buried into his chest.
"I know you will." He replied, his hand softly stroking her hair, and his lips just barely ghosting over the top her head.
In this moment, where she sat so comfortably with him, she believed it. She believed that in time she would get better, and in time she would repay Malfoy for everything he did for her.
My, my, my,
my, my, my,
my, my, my, my,
My, my, my,
my, my, my,
my, my, my, my.
.
.
.
A/N: So that's it. I left the ending open for you to decide, because even though open endings infuriate me to no end, I also really love them because they let you kind of make up your own reality for the characters. ~JAS