Chapter Three

Hermione awoke the next morning after a restless night to find the sun shining brightly in a cloudless blue sky. She took the perfect, warm spring day as a personal insult because it contrasted so sharply with her current mood and the feeling of hopeless gloom that permeated her bedroom. Ginny and Luna were seated on either side of Hermione's bed trying unsuccessfully to console her as she sobbed uncontrollably between them. Ginny made shushing noises and repeatedly tried to offer her a cup of tea, while Luna patted her head and smoothed her hair as she kept up a steady stream of comforting words.

"It'll be alright Hermione," Luna assured her in hushed tones, "everything happens for a reason."

"Bu…but…I…d-didn't…g-get…t-to…t-tell…him…th-that…I..l-love…him…" Hermione wailed.

"It's ok Hermione," Ginny said, enveloping her in a huge hug and rubbing gentle circles on her back, "he knows," she whispered.

"I….d-didn't…even…g-get…to…say….a p-proper…g-goodb-bye…" she sniffed in guilt riddled agony and fell into a renewed fit of sobs as she collapsed backward onto her pillows. Luna reached for the box of tissues on the bedside table and began dabbing at Hermione's grief-stricken face.

"I…j-just…l-love…him…so…m-much," Hermione hiccoughed.

"Of course you do," Luna said as she squeezed Hermione's hand.

"He loved you too, Hermione. I'm sure of it," Ginny added.

"Wh-what…am…I…s-sup-posed…t-to…d-do…without…him?" Hermione moaned.

"You'll just have to carry on Hermione," Luna said simply. "I don't think Crookshanks would want you waste away in here forever."

"I…kn-know…but…it's just so hard to…accept…that…he's…g-gone…" Hermione's whole body was wracked with sobs and she was lost to the outside world.

Ginny and Luna simply sat with her, rubbing her back, sharing her guilt and sorrow as best they could. After about twenty minutes, when Hermione had finally cried herself out, Luna tried to draw her into conversation to distract her from her grief.

"Feeling any better?" Luna asked her.

"A bit," she sighed.

"It'll get easier," Ginny insisted.

"I know," Hermione agreed.

Thinking it might be a good idea to try to change the subject, Luna brought the topic around to last night's ball.

"So Hermione, I never saw you again at the ball last night. What ever happened with Malfoy?" Luna asked as casually as possible.

"Yeah 'Mione, why didn't you tell me the ball was going to be at Malfoy Manor?" Ginny added, bursting with curiosity.

"I didn't know," Hermione replied honestly, "and nothing happened with Malfoy. He was just being his usual prat self." Hermione tried to downplay her exchange with Malfoy, not wanting to divulge their almost kiss to her friends. She wasn't sure how she felt about it herself, as she hadn't had much time to think about it what with Crookshanks and all, and she didn't want any outside opinions on the matter just yet.

"What exactly happened to Malfoy's wife? Who was she anyway?" the curious red-headed queried.

"I don't know any of the particulars, but I did read an article about her in Witch Weekly last month," Luna supplied. "I guess his wife was considerably older than Malfoy and she was extremely wealthy. In fact, I heard that she came from one of the wealthiest pureblood families in all of Europe!" said Luna, sounding rather awestruck, but seeing the despondent look on Hermione's face, she changed tack immediately. "I also heard that she was a miserable cow and that no one could stand her," Luna added quickly.

"It's no wonder she had to buy herself a husband. Who in their right mind would want to saddle themselves with someone like that?" Ginny said vehemently. "How did she die?"

"I heard she died as a result of complications from a series of 'cosmetic enhancement charms,'" Luna said, making a valiant effort to refrain from snickering.

Hermione stayed quiet throughout their exchange. She had heard a similar rumor, but she didn't feel right about speaking ill of the dead. She didn't mind if her friends did it however, as it made for a decent distraction from her grief and it did improve her mood, if only slightly.

"Now, as the sole beneficiary of his wife's estate, Draco is officially the wealthiest and most eligible bachelor in the entire wizarding world," Luna sad with a pointed look at Hermione.

"I can just imagine all the vultures who'll try to sink their claws into him," Ginny said with a look of distaste.

"The vultures are already circling. You should have seen them at the ball. It was disgusting. That Parkinson bint was the worst of the bunch," cried Luna, pulling a face.

"Ooh, I've always hated her," Ginny spat.

"I almost feel sorry for her," Luna said with a sigh.

"Feel sorry for Parkinson? Merlin why?" Ginny asked, incredulous.

"I mean, she fancies herself first in line to become the next Lady Malfoy when it is painfully obvious that Draco's intentions lay in another direction…" Luna smiled at Hermione. "As I said, I almost feel sorry for the poor deluded girl…almost," she reiterated with a wicked smile.

"Hermione why didn't you tell us he was still in love with you?" Ginny demanded.

"He isn't," Hermione assured them.

"He i-is," Luna contradicted in a sing-song voice. "You can deny it all you want Hermione, but the way you two were looking at each other last night…" Luna trailed off.

"Oh Luna, don't be ridiculous!" Hermione huffed in indignation.

Luna and Ginny began to giggle and Hermione shot them a dirty look.

"I…think I'll go downstairs and make us some breakfast," Ginny said, wanting to avoid Hermione's mounting ire.

"Good idea," Luna agreed. "I'll help," she added before following Ginny out of the room.

When Hermione was alone again, she allowed her thoughts to drift back to the previous evening. Did he still love her? Did she dare to hope? She sighed. Even if he did love her, could she trust him enough to open her heart to him once more? She would never admit this to anyone, but she had been destroyed when he left her, and though her rational brain reminded her that it hadn't been entirely his fault, she still felt that Draco could have at least tried to persuade his parents to accept their relationship if he'd really wanted to.

Hermione had closed off her heart after that. She rarely accepted dates and when she did, she always found an excuse to break things off shortly thereafter. She threw herself into her work and climbed steadily through the ranks in her department. As it was, she was the youngest assistant department head in the entire Ministry. She tried to convince herself that her career was enough to keep her happy and fulfilled, but when she came home at night to an empty house with only Crookshanks for company…

And now Crookshanks was gone too. She hadn't even been there when he died. The thought of her beloved familiar dying alone brought on more waves of guilt and grief. Hermione was extremely grateful that her friends were not far away and that she didn't have to be alone in her time of mourning.

She really did have wonderful friends. When Hermione had found Crooks seemingly asleep on the couch, but unable to wake up, she immediately called Ginny and with no thought to the lateness of the hour, Ginny rushed straight over and spent the night with Hermione. Luna had arrived early the next morning and helped Ginny take Crookshanks' body outside where they buried him in the back garden under a shady tree while Hermione sat on a nearby bench sobbing her heart out. Luna said a few words over the grave site before the three girls retreated back into the house.

Hermione took some small comfort in the fact that at least it didn't appear as though Crooks had suffered. They surmised that he must have died in his sleep. After all, he was an extremely old cat. He was an old cat when she first bought him and that was more than ten years ago. Despite that, she was unable to rationalize away her grief and she continued to cry and mourn the loss of her cat until Ginny and Luna returned with the breakfast tray.

Apparently Hermione had worked up quite an appetite with all the crying she'd done and she tucked in to the toast with jam and scrambled eggs that Ginny and Luna had made. They ate mostly in silence, each lost in their own thoughts when they heard a knock at the front door.

Ginny volunteered to answer it and, levitating the breakfast tray laden with their empty plates before her, she headed downstairs. Curious as to who could be calling at this time of the morning, she set the tray down on the kitchen counter and went to answer the door.

Her jaw nearly hit the floor when she found Draco Malfoy, looking as though he had just stepped off the pages of a fashion magazine, standing on the doorstep with a cup of tea in one hand, a bouquet of flowers in the other and a flat, wrapped box tucked under his arm.

"Are you going to gawk at me all day Red, or are you going to invite me in?" he asked, smirking.

"Oh, right, sure, come on in Malfoy," she faltered and moved aside to allow him to pass into the apartment.

"Nice place," he offered with an approving nod. "Are you and Hermione roommates or something?" he inquired with mild interest.

"Ah, no. Just visiting," Ginny replied.

"Where is Hermione?" Draco asked.

"She's upstairs. I'll go get her for you. Won't you sit down?" Ginny offered, trying desperately to remember her manners and finding it rather difficult with the god-like man standing before her. Shaking her head, she silently reminded herself that she was very happily engaged to Harry and although Ginny would never even dream of being unfaithful, she didn't think there was any harm in simply enjoying the view.

After offering him a cup of tea, which he politely declined, Ginny excused herself and ran from the room, flying up the stairs into Hermione's bedroom and slamming the door behind her.

"'Mione, he's here!" Ginny cried excitedly.

"What do you mean 'he's here'? Who's here?" Hermione demanded with a terrified look at her bedroom door.

"I mean Draco Malfoy is here! He's in your kitchen right now!" Ginny said, practically hopping on the spot.

"Well, tell him to go away. I don't want to see him," Hermione stated stubbornly.

"I can't do that. He brought you tea and flowers and a present," Ginny squealed in excitement.

"Hermione, be reasonable," Luna chided, "you can't very well send a man away when he brings you flowers," Luna added, as if it were the most logical argument in the world.

"I don't care what he does or doesn't bring; I don't want him spending any of his copious fortune on me. I won't be bought," Hermione said defiantly. "And if you won't do it, then I'll just have to go down there and tell him myself."

"But you can't go down there looking like you've just been trampled by a hippogriff!" Ginny said, flabbergast.

"Oh yeah? Watch me."

With that, Hermione hoisted herself out of bed and, not bothering to look at her bushy-haired, puffy-eyed, rumpled pajama-clad appearance, she stormed from the room.

The moment she caught sight of him sitting at her kitchen table, perusing the paper completely at his ease, her breath caught in her throat. Even without the trappings of his tailored dress robes, he really was something to look at. Dressed in casual tan pants and a white oxford shirt with the sleeves rolled up and the top buttons left open, he looked the perfect picture of a muggle male model.

"Good morning, Hermione," he said, not even flinching at her appearance as he looked her up and down, "having a bit of a lie-in this morning?" he asked playfully.

When she didn't respond, he continued.

"I didn't realize that you'd have company or I would have brought more tea," he said, smiling at Ginny and Luna.

"Oh, that's very nice of you, but Ginny and I were just leaving, weren't we Ginny?" Luna added when Ginny made no move to extricate herself from her place on the steps behind Hermione.

"Yes, that's right," Ginny said, recovering quickly, "We...er…have to be going now, but we'll see you later okay 'Mione?"

Hermione was staring at her friends with wide pleading eyes, silently begging them not to leave her alone with him, but in the end she merely nodded, sensing defeat as she watched her friends walk towards the door.

"Nice to see you again Draco," Luna called.

"Good to see you too, Lovegood. You and Red should come to my party this weekend. I'll owl you with an invitation later in the week. Weasel and Scarhead are welcome to join you of course," he added, flashing them his trademark smirk.

"Thanks, Malfoy," Ginny said with an air of surprise, "I look forward to it. See you," she called as she and Luna took their leave.

When her friends had turned the corner from the garden path onto the sidewalk beyond and their giggling voices could no longer be heard, Hermione turned to face her guest.

"Alright Malfoy, what are you doing here?" she demanded impatiently.

"I'm well thanks. How are you? Why yes, I'd love a cup of tea," Draco said in a snarky tone. "Where are your manners, Granger?"

She exhaled a long-suffering sigh and said, "Listen Malfoy, I don't have time for your games today. I haven't slept all night and I feel like shit so if you don't mind, I'd appreciate it if you would leave so that I can go back to bed now."

"I have no intention of playing games of any sort Granger. I just stopped by to give you these," he said, gesturing to the take away cup, the flowers and package on the table. "Though I'm afraid the tea has gone cold."

"I don't want anything you have to give me Malfoy. Unlike the slags you normally associate with, I can't be bought," Hermione said, crossly.

"Well then you'll be pleased to know that aside from the two sickles I paid for the tea, I haven't spent a knut," he said with a smug smile.

"Then where did those come from?" Hermione demanded, pointing at the flowers and the wrapped box with an accusatory glare.

"It just so happens that the flowers came from the gardens behind my house and the box…you'll just have to open it to find out."

Hermione grunted as she whipped the flowers off the table and forcefully shoved them into a vase, filling it with water with a flick of her wand. She plunked the vase on the table and reached for the box. Tearing off the ribbon, she lifted the lid and stifled a small, "Oh." He had returned her wrap from the night before. He really hadn't tried to buy her with presents. She didn't know how to feel about that so she chose to ignore it.

"Thank you for returning my shawl. You certainly didn't have to go to the trouble of wrapping it. You could've just sent it with an owl," she said brusquely.

"Perhaps, but I assure you it was no trouble. The house elves took care of the wrapping and I couldn't see the point in sending an owl when it's such a lovely morning; a perfect day for stroll through muggle London in fact, so I took the liberty of delivering it by hand."

"I've been meaning to ask you about that," she said waspishly, having heard nothing after the words 'house elves.' "How dare you use those poor elves as slave labor, particularly at a fundraiser to promote house elf rights? You are such a hypocrite!" she fumed.

"I'll have you know that each and every one of those house elves is a paid employee, thank you very much."

"You pay your house elves?" she asked, astonished.

"Every last one of them," he confirmed, "though I had to threaten them with clothes to get them to accept a salary."

Hermione didn't know what to make of that either and she didn't think she'd be able to face him without the mask of righteous indignation to cover her battered heart, so she stood from the table and turned away from him under the auspices of making a fresh pot of tea. When she went to fill the kettle at the kitchen sink, she had to fight the tears that threatened to overtake her when she caught sight of Crookshanks empty food and water bowl. Try as she might, she could not stem the flow and she was absolutely furious with herself for allowing an audible whimper to escape her lips.

Draco leapt to his feet when he heard her crying and keeping himself at a respectable distance, he extended a hand and placed it gently on her shoulder.

"Look Hermione, if this is about last night, I'm so sor-"

"I'm not crying over you, you self-centered git!" she shouted, several angry tears sliding down her face. "It's Crookshanks. He...he's gone!" she wailed, striding into the sitting room and collapsing on the couch.

Draco followed and immediately moved to sit beside her, wrapping his arms around her trembling form.

"I'm sure he's not really gone. He'll come back," Draco said hopefully.

Hermione had to stifle a chuckle amidst her tears.

"No, you nit wit, he's dead," she said as she tried to extricate herself from his hold, but he wouldn't allow it. Reluctantly leaning into his embrace, she continued. "We've been together since third year and I don't know what I'll do without him," she admitted, allowing her tears to flow openly.

"I'm sorry," he whispered solemnly, cradling her to him. "I know how much he meant to you."

"Thank you," she said quietly, as she continued to cry into his shoulder.

She couldn't be sure how long he stayed with her on the couch, but he'd held her until her tears subsided and she drifted into a peaceful slumber. When she awoke several hours later he was gone, but there was an envelope lying on her coffee table that definitely hadn't been there before.