For the love of fan fiction, and its writers.
This is a hobby of mine. I don't make money off of it.
Italics are flashbacks
Hermione arrived home with a horrible headache. She was surprised and a little exasperated to find Ron sitting there at their kitchen table.
"Where were you last night?" Ron demanded, no 'hi' or 'hello' straight accusations.
"I was at Mum's because she's sick again." Hermione responded almost too quickly. It was the answer she always gave him, practically routine now.
"I highly doubt that," he said, a disgusting tone. He stood up so fast that he knocked his chair down and didn't bother picking it up - proof that he was genuinely worked up about something.
"Don't even get started Ronald; I'm in no mood to argue today. I've got a horrible headache," Hermione fumbled around in the kitchen and put a pot of water on the stove so that she could make tea.
"Shouldn't you be at work?" Ron glared at her as he leaned against the counter next to her, crossing her arms.
"Shouldn't you?" Hermione answered him tersely, glaring at him. She opened a cupboard and picked a mug.
"I know you were with HIM last night." Ron emphasized the word him, sounnding highly offended. Hermione slammed the mug down a little too hard on the counter, causing it to make a horrible splitting noise as it broke.
"Aren't you going to clean that up?" Ron demanded.
"Aren't you going to pick up the chair?" She fought back as she started to clean the mug, feeling the pounding in her head get steadily louder.
"Good thing it wasn't the one from my great aunt," Ron said, his voice a mix of relief, warning, and anger.
Hermione knew the mug he was talking about, opened the cupboard, and found a bright blue coffee mug that had been given to them on their wedding day. She held it in her hands, toying with it.
"You wouldn't dare," Ron said as he lunged forward, grabbing for the mug. She dropped it just as Ron's hands reached over to her. The mug shattered on the floor next to the broken pieces from the other one - she had pushed the shattered pieces to the floor sometime in the past minute. She didn't know what had just came over her.
"You bitc-" he started to curse. Ron began to take a step towards her, trapping her in between his body and the counter.
"Don't even finish the sentence Ronald. I know you were with Lavender two nights ago," Hermione's voice shook slightly as she finally told him. He froze mid step and began to back away from her.
"How in the bloody hell did you know that?" Ron demanded, crossing his arms once more, now at a more comfortable distance. If she wasn't mistaken, he sounded just as shaky as she had felt after breaking the mug.
"I'm staying at George's house above the shop while he's on vacation. No need to come, Hermione. I can handle everything myself; I'm going to be working late anyways." Hermione quoted him with air mark quotations as she spoke. It was her turn to advance on him.
"Bloody hell," Ron's face matched his hair as he flushed from embarrassment.
"You really think I'm that stupid?" She took her wand from her pocket, delighting in the frightened look on Ron's face. With a flick of her wrist, the mess on the floor was cleaned up. A sharp breath of relief escaped him. Tucking her wand back in her pocket, she crossed her arms and stared at her husband.
"Well, maybe," answered Ron after a few moments had passed.
"It was a rhetorical question Ronald," she saw the tea that was bubbling away on the stove was ready and got a third mug down. Hermione then poured herself hot tea into the mug. While her back was turned, Ron ran his fingers through his red hair, making it stick up.
"What happened to us, Hermione?" Ron whispered so quietly that she could hardly hear him.
"What do you mean?" She knew exactly what he meant, she just didn't want to bring it up herself. Back still turned, she gripped the counter and lowered her head.
"Hermione, both of our kids are in Hogwarts, Rose in 6th year and Hugo 5th. Somewhere along the line, our marriage fell apart. You can't pretend you don't know that. We hardly see each other anymore unless it's at meal time or early in the morning."
"I don't want to talk about this," Hermione said, stirring her tea. He reached out his hand and touched her arm lightly, forcing her eyes to his. She saw hurt in his eyes.
"We have to. We never have time to talk about it because we're never both home anymore. Do you remember when we both used to rush home from work just to spend every last minute with each other? We had fire back then, but it seems like the flames are about to burn out. You know what the sad thing is? Neither one of us," he gestured between them, "want to fight for us."
Ron's voice was tight, and he was pouring out his emotions to her. All she could think about was her night before.
"Ronald... don't," she whispered. His hand still gripped lightly on her arm. She had once felt her heart melt when he touched her. Now, it was cold, no longer warm to the touch, no longer weloming or comforting.
"We can't keep living like this. The others will take it alright, our splitting up. I don't think the kids will, though."
"Ginny knows," Hermione said suddenly as she backed up out of his grip. She kept stepping back until she could bend down to pick up the chair he had knocked over earlier and sat down.
"What?" He was shocked. She knew he wanted to know how his sister knew and couldn't keep it from him anymore.
"Oh, all right. She came to the Ministry of Magic to see Harry one afternoon, walked past my office and caught me crying."
"You were crying?" His voice sounded almost disbelieving, angering Hermione once more.
"Yes, Ron. I still do that."
"Why?"
"It was that last really big fight we had. The one that caused you to run to Lavender." She made a grimace at Lavender's name, though she had no legitimate reason to be annoyed.
"Hermione, to be fair, you've had this affair with Malfoy for a year before I started the affair with Lavender." His hand found its way through his hair again.
"Alright, I started it." Hermione heard the resignation in her own voice.
"Why?" he asked the question before he could stop himself.
"Why? Because I was so stressed at Christmas two years ago, you didn't even help me shop for anything. Not even for your family... you stayed at that stupid shop all day and through the night. And when you did come home, you didn't ask how I was. Nor did you notice I was stressed. So when I saw Malfoy sitting at the table in the Leaky Cauldron after that, I went up to him. I told him enough's enough, we have to be friends 'cause there's no more good versus evil side anymore," Hermione spilled her secrets out to him as she remembered the first time she had cheated on her husband. She remembered everything as she sat there and filled him in on half the stuff. She left out their first kiss on purpose. A husband shouldn't know when his wife kissed another man. Then again, a wife shouldn't kiss a man that wasn't her husband, end of story.
Hermione's arms were full of packages as she entered The Leaky Cauldron. She saw a classmate sitting there on the table nearest the fire. He looked like he had recently been run over by a hippogriff, and only recognized when she walked closer to him.
"Malfoy?" she approached him. He slowly turned around to face her.
"Granger," he didn't even bother throwing an insult at her. She realized there was something was wrong with him. Without being bothered to ask to sit down, she placed her packages down and sat opposite him. A waitress came up and took her order, walking away soon after.
"Malfoy?" she asked again as he continued staring into his cup of coffee, looking deep in thought.
"My father in law passed away," he stated. He looked good in his sharp black suit. The stubble on his chin made him look older.
What was she thinking? This was Draco Malfoy she was thinking of. She shouldn't be thinking of him like that. Hermione shook her head, trying her hardest to shake the thoughts out of her mind.
"Damn it, Draco. Don't you think it's about time we set aside the 'Malfoy,' and 'Granger' crap?" Hermione placed her hand to her mouth. She hadn't meant to say 'crap'. It just proved how stressed she really was, saying such a childish word.
He sat up straight, eyed her, and studied her at the same time. He placed his hands on the center of the table, folding them.
"What in the bloody hell is wrong with you?" he demanded, not nearly as eloquently as usual.
"Why in the bloody hell do you care?" she snapped, mocking him just a bit. The waitress came by with a small cup of Firewhiskey. Hermione almsot never drank, but she needed one tonight.
"I'm acting the same way I always act around you."
"No, one minute you're nice, and the next you're explaining why we should be nice and then you're snappy. Oh hell, I give up. I'm tired with female emotions," Draco said, standing up. He placed a galleon down, which was way too much for a cup of coffee left untouched and began to walk away. Hermione gulped down the Firewhiskey, left the same amount and ran out of the place after him, forgetting about her packages completely.
"Hell, Granger, if you knew what I was going through right now you'd clap your hands and laugh. Your enemy finally is having a bad life. As if living under the control of Voldermort wasn't bad enough."
"Oh Merlin, I left my packages, hold that thought Mal-Draco," she rushed back inside and back out in an instant, parcels in hand.
"Been shopping?" he asked, stating the obvious.
"Well that's kind of a 'duh' answer." Hermione smiled, actually smiled at him. When she did so, she saw a tiny smile form on his lips.
"So it's true, a Malfoy can smile." Hermione teased.
"I do have emotions, Granger."
"Would you just call me Hermione? That is my name, after all." Hermione stated firmly.
"I have to go," he said.
The following night, Ron was working late once more and Hermione pretended to go to Christmas shopping again in Diagon Alley. She walked into The Leaky Cauldron, hoping to catch a glimpse of him. He was there, but he wasn't alone. Astoria Greengrass was there with him. They appeared to be arguing. Hermione tried her best not to listen as she sat down at the counter within ear shot.
"You said to meet you here at seven. I came at seven like you said and you weren't here. You didn't show up till an hour and a half later. Where were you?" Draco's voice sounded very frustrated. She could tell he tried to hide the fact that he was stressed, but Hermione knew right away from how he was standing.
"I'm sorry Draco. I got held back at work," Astoria said, and paused before continuing. "And I'm trying to work out Father's funeral with mum," she crossed her arms.
"I thought you had all of that worked out." Draco said mimicking her arm movements and leaning back in his chair.
Hermione stopped listening as Hannah Abbott, the new owner, stood in front of her. Hannah asked for Hermione's order.
"Hannah! It's so nice to see you again." Hermione smiled as she was forced to pull her attention away from the Malfoys. Hannah eyed the pair arguing, moving her eyes from them to Hermione and back.
"He's been waiting for her for an hour and a half already." Hannah stated. "Do you want anything?" she asked Hermione again.
"No. Thanks, Hannah. I'm leaving now." Hermione got up abruptly and walked out of the shop. What had she been doing there in the first place? Both she and Draco were married and... happy.
A few minutes later, Astoria stormed out without glancing back. Draco came out of the shop looking worn out and exhausted. He didn't even notice Hermione was there. She followed him towards Knockturn Alley, unable to stop her legs from carrying her behind Draco. Once he turned down the dark, lonely alley way, he got out of her sight. She tried searching for him with her eyes before going down the dark alley herself.
She breathed in and braced herself, never having been down Knockturn Alley before. She knew Ron wouldn't pass by Knockturn Alley, for he hated the place, and knew it was safe to follow him. She didn't need to worry about the possibility of being caught.
He pushed her against the wall hard as she stepped out of the shadows.
"Why are you following me?" he demanded. She wasn't scared of him and pushed him off of her. It just went to show that he hadn't meant to actually cause her harm, if his grip was so loose.
"I don't know." Hermione answered honestly, .
"I know you heard everything. I saw you there at the counter talking to that girl who went to Hogwarts with us."
"What's wrong, Draco?" She avoided validating or denying his accusations, changing the subject abruptly.
"Call me Malfoy," he hissed through his teeth.
"No. We need to start calling each by the first name," she said, stepping closer to him. A shiver ran down her spine at being so close to him. She could practically feel the power rolling off of him.
"You're not the only couple out there who argue, alright?" he finally said through gritted teeth.
"How long?" she asked him.
"About a year."
"Same as Ronald and I."
"You and Weasel always argued." His tone quieted as he stepped closer to her, though it was still powerful.
"That may be true, but not like you and Astoria. Have you ever thrown anything at her like I have at Ronald?" When he didn't answer, she looked at the ground. The full moon was high above the sky now and she covered her sad face.
Hermione shed a few tears, but held them back once she remembered he was staring at her. She did not want him to see her cry.
"I didn't know a mudblood had feelings," he let it slip almost unknowingly from his mouth. Her eyes turned cruel in an instant.
"Don't call me a mudblood anymore," out of habit she raised her hand, though she wasn't sure if she wanted to point a finger at him like she would a friend who had made fun of her in jest, or if she wanted to slap him.
He caught her by the wrist. Instead of getting angry at her, he pulled her close to him, still holding her wrist tight above her head. It was there, under the light of the full moon where he made his first move on her. What frightened her the most was that she didn't pull away from him. Her heart pounded in her chest. She was scared he could hear it for she had never done anything this crazy. Hermione's brown eyes stared deep into his grey ones, noticing that they were dancing with something like fear and anticipation. Those eyes that once held a cold glare and hatred showed a hint of warmth. Like coals burning from a low flame. Their eyes locked, glued to each other for a long time; frozen in fear and confusion, and maybe even some heat. He broke his gaze away from her eyes by lightly kissing her lips.
"What was that for?" She was breathless, though it had been a light kiss.
"Something I've always wanted to do."
"Why?" she asked as he shook his head telling her he didn't know.
It was her turn to kiss him this time, and bit his lower lip.
"What was that for?" he asked.
"Something I've never thought about doing till now."
He let go of her and tangled his long fingers through her hair, kissing her neck. From there, he moved to her lips, lightly kissing them and causing her to moan quietly. She deepened the kiss, opening his mouth with hers and sliding her tongue in. When he didn't push her away, she went in for an even deeper kiss. She brought her hands up behind him so one rested on his neck and one threaded through his hair. She pulled him closer, leaning against the wall for support. He kissed her back, long and hard, fighting with her tongue for dominance as if she'd never be kissed again.
"What in the hell just happened?" he asked as they broke apart, panting for some air.
"I don't know. But I liked it." Hermione admitted truthfully, looking straight into his darkened eyes.
"Hermione?" Ron brought her back from her thought. She blushed.
"What now?" Hermione asked him, feeling her headache return with a vengeance.
Author's note: Please review.