Part I: Anguish

Hermione blinked. She had been staring at the parchment under her hands without seeing it. Was she in her office? She closed her eyes, trying to shut out a picture that had been burned into her mind.

Harry. She should go see Harry.

Forgetting her wand, forgetting her responsibilities, Hermione floated out of the Department of Mysteries, up the stairs, and into the lift to Level Two where Harry and the rest of the Aurors worked.

"See you at the fundraiser, tonight?" Seamus asked as he exited the lift. He gave Hermione a concerned glance when she didn't reply but the door shut and the lift continued up.

The fundraiser was tonight? Hermione fretted about it until she found herself at the edge of the Aurors' office and her eyes locked on Draco Malfoy.

Oh, he was perfect. No, he was better than perfect; Draco Malfoy was poetic justice.

"Draco," Hermione said, suddenly beside his desk.

The blond wizard looked up from a map, identified Hermione, and frowned.

"Hermione?" he replied.

"Would you care to accompany me to the fundraiser tonight?" she asked.

Draco stared silently at up at her for a moment, face a careful mask.

"I'd like that," he finally replied.

"Lovely," Hermione said. "Pick me up at seven."

"Hermione," Harry interjected, firmly grasping her arm and directing her away from Draco towards his office.

"Did you just ask Malfoy to the fundraiser?" Harry asked, attempting to make eye contact with his friend.

"I did," Hermione replied, examining the pictures on the walls. Harry had decorated with photos of his family and friends and she rather loved it. When her gaze found a particular face, her heart froze.

"Aren't you currently living with Ron?" Harry asked, voice leaden with disbelief. He watched Hermione closely, aware that there was something off about her. Why wouldn't she look at him?

"Not anymore," Hermione muttered bitterly, tearing her eyes from Ron's smiling face.

Startled, Harry demanded Hermione's attention by gripping her arms.

"What? When did this happen?"

The moment Hermione focused on Harry, she could repress it no longer. It was as if a dam inside of her ruptured and tears streamed down her face. Pain surged through her as the meaning of what she'd seen finally registered in her mind. Hermione would have fallen to her knees but Harry was holding her and summoned a chair to catch her.

"This morning," she managed to gasp through her misery.

Harry held Hermione, shocked to his core. He'd never seen her lose control of her emotions with tears; anger, yes, but never tears. It didn't last long but she cried harder than he'd seen anyone cry.

"I popped by the flat for my sweater," Hermione said softly, gently separating herself from Harry. She used her sleeve to wipe her face. Her eyelids were like sandpaper.

"There was – Ron – there was a witch in our bed…"

"Who? Maybe she's a friend," Harry sputtered.

"Yes, the special close friend that you sit astride while naked," Hermione snapped. Her heartbreak was giving way to anger.

"I'll curse him," Harry breathed.

"No, Harry. This isn't your battle. I'm sorry about crying all over you… I just needed to get it out." Hermione stood. Her legs were shaky but her head was clearer. She gave Harry a grateful peck on the cheek and saw herself out of his office.

Harry followed her, furious at Ron and concerned for Hermione. She tended to lose her head over him and the depth of her pain rocked him. He hoped he didn't see Ron anytime soon; he wasn't sure what he'd do.

"What is it?" Draco asked, joining him to stare after Hermione.

Harry mentally smacked himself on the forehead. He'd forgotten that Hermione had asked Draco Malfoy on a date. He wondered if she would remember.

"She walked in on Ron cheating on her this morning," Harry said, anger creeping into his voice.

"I knew something was wrong," Draco replied, gaze darkening after Hermione as she stepped onto the lift.

"Are you really going to bring her tonight?" Harry asked.

"Yes. And I'll treat her better than Weasley ever did," Draco drawled, a bit of swagger lifting his chin.

"I don't know if I ought to tell you what happened today," Harry said after he'd hung his cloak.

Ginny froze for a moment, wand pointed at a bubbling pot. The tone of Harry's voice made her curious.

"Are you alright?" She asked with a frown and lowered the heat under the pot.

"I'm fine. Worried about Hermione. And Draco. And a bit about your brother."

"'My brother?'" Ginny repeated. "What's the idiot done that you won't claim him as your friend over my brother?"

Harry summoned parchment, ink, and quill from the sitting room and scribbled a quick note. He settled back in his chair and handed the scroll to Wendelin, their barn owl.

Once the owl was off through the open window, Harry continued. "I heard Hermione ask Draco to tonight's party-"

"What?" Ginny gasped.

"Yes," Harry agreed. "That's what I said. I pulled her into my office and she just stood there, looking at the pictures on my walls."

"Is she alright?" Ginny asked in a high voice, losing patience with Harry's story. She abandoned her cooking to sit down with him at their tiny kitchen table.

"She popped back home this morning for her coat and caught Ron shagging a witch in their bed…"

Harry watched Ginny's face go white and then red with anger.

"I'll kill him."

"I said that, too. She cried a bit and went back downstairs."

Ginny took a deep breath and closed her eyes for a moment. She got up and began moving things around in the kitchen as if she didn't know what to do.

"What was the owl about?" She asked, sounding unusually defeated.

"I sent Hermione a reminder about her date. I'm not sure she'll remember setting it up."

"Shit. Draco." Ginny exclaimed, gesturing with the bowls in both of her hands.

"I know. I asked him if he was really going to do it – take her out – he said he would and he'd treat her better than Ron ever had."

"Why do you suppose she asked Draco?" Ginny mused, setting a bowl in front of Harry and falling into her own chair, eating forgotten.

"I doubt she planned it, in her state of mind. I think she saw him and came up with the idea as a way to hurt Ron."

"Do you think she knows?"

"Perhaps, subconsciously. It certainly isn't the best kept secret of the century." Harry took a half-hearted bite of dinner then set his spoon aside. "I watched Draco put himself back together after the war. She isn't the sort to rip him apart but she may do so by accident."

"Perhaps, you better tell her," Ginny whispered.