Stand and Watch It Burn

II. Nothing to Worry About

Two weeks passed, and Hermione slowly forgot about the dream. Stress, she figured. Or maybe, it was just her overactive imagination at work again. Whatever the case, Hermione pushed it to the back of her mind. It was unimportant, she reasoned. There were better things to worry about. Like whether or not she should accept Professor McGonagall's offer. Or Aiden, who was growing bigger by the second. Or Ginny's and Harry's upcoming wedding. Yes, Hermione concluded. There was no point in worrying over a silly little dream. That would be illogical – and Hermione, naturally, was all about logic.

So she willingly forgot it, slipping back to her routine.

Hermione was a very fastidious person, especially when compared to her laidback husband. She had a routine that she followed every morning. Every day she would wake up at 6:40 AM to feed and change Aiden. Having done that, she would proceed to the kitchen at 7:15 AM to prepare breakfast for Ron. Sometimes Ron would wake on his accord, but more often than not, Hermione would have to wake him up at 7:30 AM. The two of them, accompanied by Aiden in his high chair, would enjoy their breakfast (usually eggs and bacon) together while Hermione perused The Daily Prophet, reading off funny bits to Ron. Then at 7:55 AM, Hermione would have to remind Ron that he had 5 minutes to get to work before he was late, and at 7:59 AM, a stumbling Ron would hastily kiss Hermione and Aiden goodbye before he Apparated to the Ministry.

That was Hermione's routine every morning, to the minute. At times it felt constricting, but Hermione liked the predictability of having a schedule. She always knew what would happen next, and knowing, for Hermione, was the greatest comfort. She didn't like the feeling of not knowing something.

So, one morning, when she came across a peculiar headline in The Daily Prophet, she frowned.

"What is it?" Ron asked absentmindedly when he saw the look on her face. Most of his attention was currently focused on his little son, whom he was amusing by flinging bits of uneaten pancake at. Aiden giggled maniacally at his father's antics.

"Stop that," Hermione said, pulling away Ron's plate of mangled food. "You're setting a bad example." As she spoke, Aiden had found some leftover bits on the table of his highchair and was flinging them back at Ron. Hermione shot Ron a nasty look. "See? Look what you've done. Aiden, Daddy is a bad, bad boy. Don't throw food, okay, sweetie?"

Ron scowled. "I am NOT a bad boy. And stop talkin to me like your'e my mum."

"You are," Hermione said, not bothering to look up. "Now finish your breakfast."

Snatching his plate back from Hermione, Ron scarfed down the rest of his breakfast while giving her a defiant look. He soon noticed, however, that Hermione was distracted.

"Okay, Hermione," Ron said, swallowing the last bit of bacon. "What's wrong?"

"Nothing," Hermione said, shaking her head. Ron gave her a disbelieving look. "Well, not nothing I suppose, it's just… What ever happened to Draco Malfoy."

Ron froze. "What?" he asked after a moment's pause.

"Draco Malfoy… what happened to him?"

"'Spect he ended up in Azkaban like the rest of that lot," Ron growled.

"Yeah," Hermione said. "He did. Look." She showed Ron the newspaper.

Malfoy to be Released?

It has been three years since Harry Potter defeated He-Who-Must-Not-Be-Named, and the aftershocks of his reign of terror can still be felt. Yesterday, the Ministry received a request to review the sentence of the man who was largely considered his right hand man, Draco Malfoy.

Malfoy, 21, was sentenced to life in Azkaban after his successful capture. He was tried for crimes of terror and murder and was unanimously found guilty. But, Malfoy's attorney argues that new evidence will prove Malfoy's innocence and hopefully earn him a pardon.

"Draco Malfoy was not working for the Dark Lord," he states affirmatively. "He was not on the dark side."

Many, of course, are skeptical.

"Lucius Malfoy was a known Death Eater," says Tiernan O'Malley, a prominent member of Wizengamot. "I don't see why we should expect his son to be any different."

Shortly before You-Know-Who's fall, Malfoy was apprehended by… Story continues on Page 13

Ron stared at the paper a long while, longer than even he would need to read it. Finally, Hermione asked, "Well?"

Jerking his head up, Ron asked, "Well what?"

"Do you know how he ended up in Azkaban? I thought I should remember, but for some reason, I'm trying to and I can't… in fact it feels like something's missing, but I don't know what…" Hermione trailed off.

"It's nothing," he said quickly. "Malfoy was just another of You-Know-Who's minions and probably just got rounded up when we caught them. Really, Hermione," he said, his gaze turning to meet hers, "Don't worry about it, okay? It's not worth it. He's not worth it." With that, Ron got up from the breakfast table and walked over to the fireplace and chucked in the newspaper. He stood there for a while, watching the paper burn.

"I wasn't finished reading that," Hermione said, completely annoyed.

"You'll read it and just fret, knowing you," Ron replied. He kissed her on the head. "I should go to work." He straightened and, with a loud crack, disappeared.

Hermione blinked. It was only 7:52 AM. Ron had left seven whole minutes early.

x x x

Harry was equally shocked to see Ron barge in through the doors early. Usually, Ron was staggering into the office, grabbing a stitch on his side, desperately trying to grab his breath and mutter some apology for being late, all at the same time. Not today. Ron came in a few minutes early. He had shoved the doors open and plopped down on the chair at his desk.

Something had to be wrong. A fight with Hermione? No, that couldn't be it, Harry decided. If they had been fighting, Ron would have come to complain to him about it by now. Maybe it wasn't anything important. But Ron's stony silence combined with his early arrival made Harry uneasy, and so he decided to approach his friend.

"Hey, Ron," Harry said, knocking on his cubicle. Ron jumped up a mile in his seat.

"Merlin!" Ron spun around on his chair. "Oh, Harry, it's just you."

Harry stared, now really concerned. He leaned against the wall and asked, "What's wrong, Ron? Er… It's not about me and Ginny is it? Look, I'm sorry, I wanted to tell you before, but…"

"Oh, no no." Ron laughed a bit too forcefully. "You're my best mate! You're like a brother to me! Well… come to think of it it'd be rather weird if you were my brother cuz Ginny's my sister, then you'd be marrying your…"

"Okay," Harry said, impatiently, cutting Ron off in the middle of his rambling. "Then what is it?"

Ron shifted. "Did you…" He cleared his throat. "Have you seen The Daily Prophet?"

Harry scoffed and crossed his arms. "I haven't read that rag since we were in our fifth year… I thought you stopped reading it too."

"Well, Hermione reads it at breakfast sometimes, and it's amusing, so I don't mind. You know how she feels about staying informed and knowing everything and making the rest of us look bad."

Harry laughed. "Well, what about The Daily Prophet?"

"There was a story," Ron said. "About Draco Malfoy."

There was a silence. "I see," Harry said slowly, measuring his words. "Well… what… what did it say?"

"They're reviewing his sentence… Merlin, Harry, what if they let him go?"

Harry looked at Ron who was clearly distressed now. "Do you want me to do something about it?"

Ron turned back to face his desk, propped his elbows up on the desk, and let his head drop into his hands. "I don't know. I really don't."

Sighing, Harry walked over to where Ron was now mumbling under his breath, kneeled down, and slung a comforting arm over his friend. "Look, I'm sure it's nothing to worry about…"

"Nothing to worry about!" Ron lifted his head up out of his hands. "Nothing to worry about? You honestly believe that Harry? Hermione and I have this perfect life together, and… This could ruin everything, Harry…"

"No," Harry said. "You're being ridiculous. Hermione loves you, and you love her. She won't…"

"She asked about him this morning," Ron sputtered. Harry raised his eyebrows. "I mean, probably in relation to the article…"

"It was because of the article," Harry said firmly. "There's nothing to worry about."

Ron sighed. "You're probably right, Harry. I'm worrying over nothing."

Harry grinned. "Yeah. So… really now," his tone now serious, "do you want me to do something about it?"

Ron stared at the ceiling for a while, considering slowly. "No," he finally said. "No, I reckon we'll be just fine."

"I'm sure you will," Harry agreed.

x x x

"Crimson and gold?" Ginny examined the swatches spread out on the coffee table. Scooting to the edge of the sofa, she leaned over them to examine them more carefully. She crinkled her freckled nose. "I know we're all Gryffindors and everything, and I'm proud of that, but is that too much?"

"It's fine," Hermione said absentmindedly.

"It is a late summer wedding," Ginny continued, "so would dark colors would be appropriate? I actually think a dark purple would look rather fetching. Purple bridesmaid dresses? In late August? And gold as a complimentary color. What do you think Hermione?"

"Sounds good."

"And I was thinking of embellishing our wedding cake with the words 'Slytherin Pride' and inviting Michael Corner and Viktor Krum to sing at the reception."

"Mmhmm." Hermione was staring at the ceiling.

Ginny snorted. "Okay," she said, putting the swatches of fabric down. "What is it? You're obvious distracted."

Hermione sighed. She and Ginny were supposed to be picking colors and fabrics for the wedding, but her mind was elsewhere. Something about the morning's events had left her feeling like something wasn't right. She wasn't quite sure what it was and she hated that. Worse, it felt like something she had known… but it wasn't like her to forget things. Even unimportant things. Hermione's memory was impeccably keen and part of the reason she always did so well in her studies. So that couldn't be it… could it?

"I feel like I'm forgetting something," Hermione finally admitted after a long pause. "Something really important. I'm not sure what it is."

Ginny laughed. "You?" she asked. "Forget something? That's not possible. Ron? Yes. But you? You remember everything. Remember that time when you, me, Harry, and Ron were playing that Hogwarts trivia game that you insisted we buy? God, we should have known better. Figures you'd know every answer since you practically memorized Hogwarts, a History. Did you make the game, Hermione?"

Hermione looked slightly miffed and was about to answer when a baby's cries pierced the air. "Ah," Hermione said, jumping up. "Aiden's up from his nap."

Ginny's eyes lit up. "Oooh, can I go get him?" she asked excitedly. She started bouncing on the sofa and tugging at Hemrione's hands. "Please, please, please please…."

Trying very hard to hold back her smile, Hermione dramatically rolled her eyes and said, "All right, fine." Ginny squealed and bolted off to Aiden's room. Smiling, Hermione slowly followed. She stood in the doorframe, watching Ginny gently lifting up Aiden and then cradling him against her chest.

"You'll make a wonderful mum one day," Hermione said.

Ginny looked up at Hermione and smiled broadly. "Yeah? I hope so," she said, looking back down at Aiden. "I really do want kids."

"How many? Seven?" Hermione teased.

Ginny looked horrified. "Oh no! I don't think I could handle seven. God. I don't know how Mum did it without keeling over, but I know I certainly couldn't do that. Two, maybe three. I don't know. Here," she said, walking over to Hermione and putting Aiden into her arms. "He wants his mum."

Hermione took Aiden and sat down in the rocking chair in his room. Moving slowly back and forth, she stared down at her little son who looked up at her contentedly. Ginny stood behind them, and for a long while they remained silent.

"Do you have any idea," Ginny said softly, finally breaking the silence, "what it might be? That you're forgetting."

"Sort of," Hermione replied uncertainly. "It sounds crazy, and it doesn't make sense…"

"Yes?" prompted Ginny when Hermione stopped for a few seconds.

"Well, I think," Hermione started. She cut herself off and seemed to be gathering her thoughts. "I think it might have to do something with Draco Malfoy." She then went on to relate what had happened earlier that morning, with the headline and Ron's strange reaction and how Ron broke schedule and left for work early on his own accord. And after hesitating for a while, she shared the dream she had had two weeks ago about Malfoy, how she had addressed him by his first name… how he had called her Hermione rather than Mudblood or Granger. (She conveniently left out the fact that she and he were in bed together, most probably naked.)

"It's just all so strange," Hermione said. "Well, maybe they have nothing to do with each other, and maybe it's all just one big coincidence, but isn't that a bit too big of a coincidence? Maybe I'm just imagining things, connecting things that aren't there." She shook her head. "It must be stress. And lack of a stimulating job. My brain's on overdrive from lack of work." Hermione groaned and looked up at the ceiling. "Maybe I really should take up McGonagall's offer." She turned behind her to look at Ginny and was shocked by the look on the redhead's face. "Gin?"

Ginny's features were frozen in a look of disdain and… fear? "Ginny, are you all right?"

"Oh!" Ginny started. She looked down at the floor for a moment, and when she looked back up at Hermione, her face was now collected and calm. "It's probably nothing, Hermione. You're probably just bored. As if Draco Malfoy could be anything other than a snot-faced pig-headed twerp who cares about anything other than himself. Don't let him bother you, Hermione. Ever." Ginny's voice was adamant now.

Sighing, Hermione turned back around to face her little son. "You're right," she whispered. Leaning in to rub her nose on Aiden's cheek, she murmured, "It's probably nothing."

x x x

Miles away in Azkaban, Draco Malfoy was curled up in a corner of his cell. It was cold, and the darkness of the prison gave no indication of the beautiful day it was outside. Draco lifted his head to stare at the grey ceiling, the same grey ceiling he stared at every day. He ran his fingers along the stone wall and traced them along the lines of mortar. The walls seemed so impenetrable.

He stretched out his legs from beneath him and leaned against the wall. For the next few hours, he hardly moved, except to whisper one word.

"Hermione."


AN: Yay, chapter two. Oooh, and Draco makes his appearance. Originally, I hadn't intended for him to show up in this fic at all, but I've decided it'd be more angsty and exciting if he did. Yay angst! So what happened between Draco and Hermione? For those of you who've read Avici, you already know. If you don't want to be spoiled, don't read Avici. Though, I don't think it'll be particularily shocking... but it shall be interesting nonetheless. Well, if you please, review? They really make my day.