Disclaimer: JK Rowling's.
A/N: Reviews! Delicious! Agh I never imagine I'd get this many...over 20! Whoo!
Chapter 7: It's Sour
Draco sat on a sloping hill, hands clenched around the surrounding heather, watching the sun slowly rising above the horizon. The air was surreal and still save for the occasional chirp and the faint sound of clanging metal in the cottage behind him. His mother changed her mind on Australia, taking them to an unknown location; cozy, but unknown. It was a small, humble home with coffee colored shingles and pale yellow walls. The sun never failed to shine in the lush valley, and more than on one occasion the trio found deer nibbling just under the latticed windows. There were only two bedrooms and a single bath, much to Draco's surprise, yet Narcissa was perfectly fine (and aware) of it.
He ruffled his tousled bed hair, leaning back on his arms and staring at the rosy sky. The clatter grew louder, not enough to disturb the silence, but loud enough to remind him of what today was. Christmas. The elf inside was making their breakfast. He was sure it would be grand and enough to feed ten people. Or a Weasley, he thought, scoffing. His thoughts shifted over to Harry and his family, a faint smirk playing on the corner of his lips. He was sure they'd enjoy his presents; he made sure to get the best for his friend. He thought of what his other friends thought of his gifts: Blaise, Pansy, Astoria and Daphne, Theodore, Goyle... He even paid tribute to Crabbe by giving some gifts to whatever family he had that wasn't in Azkaban. His thoughts finally drifted to his secretary, Hermione. A pang of guilt shot through his chest, but he brushed it off easily just like he did his pants as he stood up.
Draco made his way inside, pulling off his shoes and collapsing in an armchair in the living room. Scorpius awoke, peering his head in the doorway and breaking into a huge smile. "Merry Christmas!" he exclaimed, arms spread open to give his father a hug. Draco smiled, wrapping him in his arms and replied, "Merry Christmas, Scorpius."
Narcissa presently appeared, donning a bright red chiffon top and a black pencil skirt. She beamed, scooping up her grandson and swaying him around in the living room. Scorpius' melodious laughter filled the room, making even the other hardhearted Malfoys laugh.
"Mrs. Malfoy, your breakfast is ready," a smooth, shy voice interrupted. Narcissa smiled warmly. "Thank you, Yvonne."
Draco looked up, a frown on his face. Yvonne had her head held high, hands folded in front of her. Dark chocolate hair framed deep blue eyes and porcelain skin, lips pressed in a loose smile. She was definitely pretty, he would give her that. She glanced at him, offering a quick smile and strolling back into the kitchen. Draco looked at his mother. "Who-Why-Mum?"
She shrugged, making her way to the set table. "I hired her to make our meals, but she made them in advance before we arrived so we wouldn't be intruded on. I insisted she make our Christmas meals fresh. Poor girl doesn't have a family to go home to, you see. I was hoping we could-"
"Invite her to spend it with us," he finished, sitting in the seat across from her. She nodded shyly. "I...finally have the ability to be kind, Draco. Please don't take it away from me. It feels nice doing good deeds."
He nodded, knowing exactly how it felt. Narcissa called her out and invited her to stay, piling her plate with all sorts of delicacies. Yvonne spoke with a soft voice, but whatever rolled off her tongue was amusing, much to Draco's surprise. Maybe inviting her wasn't so bad.
Draco lay on his bed with Scorpius curled by his side. It was only four in the afternoon, but Narcissa insisted Scorpius still have a nap. Reluctantly, the two climbed into bed. His thoughts drifted from place to place, resting again on Hermione. His guilt increased when he felt the heavy weight of the watch on his wrist, but he shook it off once more. He Accio'd Scorpius' present over and picked up one of the chocolatey treats. Making sure his son was asleep, he hesitantly took a bite. Platinum eyebrows rose in surprise, continuing to take tentative bites until it was all gone. He rested his head back on the headboard. It was good. It was really good. His thoughts drifted back to the time he had opened up to her after their snow fight.
"I want to thank you for being kind to me despite what I did to you in the past. You're one of the few people who do, even after all this time. I guess...when I had that snow fight with you, I felt free from the burdens of guilt I have to carry for the rest of my life. You made me feel like a normal human being, Granger. It feels nice, doesn't it. Being free," he murmured. She blinked twice at the last word and stared at him. She didn't say anything at all afterwards, and to cover up his embarrassment, he urged her to speak as well. "Are you even listening, Granger?"
"O-Oh," was all she could say. But it was enough for him. At least she heard him. Which means she understood him. Which means... He shook his head, turning on his heel and continuing to breakfast.
He popped the remnants of the cake he absently ate into his mouth, reaching for another one. Hermione was different; he knew that the minute he laid eyes on her. But she outdid the expectations he placed on her by far, making him think twice before doubting a woman. He tenderly stroked Scorpius' hand, glad that his son would grow up to be as open-minded and friendly to all wizards because of Hermione's influence on him. A faint smile grew on his face as he set the box down on the nightstand. She's a good friend, he thought to himself.
Hermione stood in front of the mirror, staring at her pallid reflection. Draco just had to tell them near Christmas time. He just had to ruin their Christmas spirit. He just...had to be such a Malfoy! Or possibly like the Grinch, she sneered, but then again, being a Malfoy is much worse.
She touched up on her makeup and fixed her hair before joining her parents downstairs in the living room. Her mother smiled, brushing back one of Hermione's auburn curls fondly. "Merry Christmas, sweetheart."
She leaned into her mother's soft palm, inhaling the scent of freshly baked chocolate cookies. They knew nothing about what she was involved with. Her father placed a large hand on the small of their backs, leading them to the door. "We don't want to be late to the show."
Hermione nodded, pushing all thoughts of Draco Malfoy to the back of her mind. She didn't need to think about any of that right now.
Hermione smiled, hugging her parents for one last embrace. For Christmas, she bought them tickets to Sydney, Australia to spend the New Year's. They didn't insist she tag along once she promised to visit the next time she could. Once they disappeared from sight, she slipped into an empty alley and apparated away.
"Welcome back, dearie," Molly said, ushering Hermione to the backyard. Lanterns floated idly in place, filling the backyard with a warm, dreamy glow. Harry swiftly approached her, pulling her immediately to the dance floor in the middle of the lawn. One hand rested on her waist, the other intertwined with hers as he cheerfully pulled her along. She stumbled after him, constantly stepping on his toes. She growled. "Harry Potter! You slow down this instant!" she hissed. He threw back his head and laughed. She eyed him suspiciously. "Are you drunk?"
He shook his head, biting his lip and bouncing her along when the beat of the music picked up. She bristled slightly, trying to keep up with his pace. "Are you alright, Harry?"
He beamed down at her. "Everything's alright with the world, Hermione. Well, except for the Muggle Murderer and whatever, but there's something good about it too! But you know what's got me in a good mood, Hermione?"
He slowed down his pace, staring dreamily at his redheaded wife seated on a bench with Fleur. "Ginny's pregnant, Hermione. She's pregnant."
Hermione grinned, feeling her insides bubble up with warmth. "Harry! I'm-"
He smiled endearingly at her. "And...I think it's time the Golden Trio reunited. One of the members came to his senses, now it's your turn."
Her face drained with color, shaking her head furiously. Memories of violent fights with a certain Weasley popped into her mind, images that made her want to curl into a ball and cry, forget that she was a pathetic human being desperately in love with another quite like herself. Images of Hermione crumpled in her bed, silently begging for the old Ronald Weasley she loved back in their budding teenage years to come back and send away the cruel, emotionless man asleep next to her. The one who would glance at her when he thought she wasn't looking. The one who knew her enough to have complete conversations with with just eye contact. The one she hadn't fallen out of love with over two years ago. "No no no no-"
Harry, unaware of what ran through her mind, twirled her away magnificently across then dancefloor. A pair of strong sturdy arms encased in a rust-colored coat caught her, ending her crazy little adventure. "Bloody hell, Hermione. You look great tonight."
She tensed up, stepping back in sheer horror. "R-Ron..."
He sighed, arms dropping to his sides. "Okay...maybe not the best conversation starter to have with your ex, but I really do think you look beautiful."
She shook her head, blinking several times as she stumbled back. He followed her with his own lumbered steps, blue eyes swirling with concern and curiousity. "Hermione...I just want to talk."
"N-No, Ron. I-It's too soon," she stuttered, unaware she was backing into the shadows of the night and away from the party. He was resolute, replying the exact opposite of whatever she said, and remaining absolutely calm throughout the ordeal. Finally, they were surrounded by pitch black, the young witch stumbling over a tree stump and landing on her bum. Ron knelt down beside her, a lopsided grin on his face. She buried her face in her hands, her eyes leaking with tears. She wasn't crying over Ronald Weasley. No...not him. "My-My favorite dress...ruined by the mud!" she blurted, forcing herself to think that was the reason tears spilled from her eyes.
"Mud, you say? Sure...it's mud then," he replied, earning a quick punch on the arm. He flinched, but didn't complain. "Hermione...I'm here to-"
"Beg for me? Apologize and say you never meant those words? Expect me to fall in your arms and go into the cycle of break up, heartbreak, and then back together? Or maybe ask me to pretend I didn't spend fifteen bloody years with a boy who didn't even think of his future other than work, Quidditch, and meet-ups with Harry!"
She huffed indignantly, reeling her fist back to punch him square in the nose, but something clicked inside her as she stared into those familiar blue eyes under the waning moon. Ron took the chance to finally speak. "I-I'm not asking you to do any of those things for me. I...I just want my best mate back. I know we won't be able to become like we were before we dated, but I'm just asking you...can we at least try?"
Her knees trembled under the gravity of the situation, burying her face in her hands. There was the Ron she lost. Her heart thumped rapidly in her chest, shoulders shaking as she realized she found the Ron she had fallen in love with. Those tender blue eyes filled with sincerity and brutal loyalty, no longer the cold and unfeeling eyes she had grown accustomed to the last few years in the relationship. He was kneeling by her side, rubbing her back in soothing circles-just like he used to. He wiped the tears from her eyes with his massive thumb-just like he used to. Ron hurriedly cleaned her up with a swift swish of his wand and scooped her up-just like he used to. She burst into another fit of tears and buried her face in the crook of his neck. He whispered soothing words in her ear. "Don't worry, 'Mione. Your best mate's right here."
Her sobs escalated when she heard those words, hardly noticing the change of scenery, or the concerned looks of everyone who saw her, or even the hazy conversations Ron briefly held with several people once they were inside. They sat on the couch together, Hermione settled in Ron's lap as he combed his fingers through her curls, absently staring at the crackling fire before them. After about half an hour, she forced herself to calm down, shifting uncomfortably on his lap. This was too intimate. Ron shifted over, allowing her to sit on the sofa beside him. "You alright, Hermione?"
"Ron...y-you've changed," she breathed, wiping her nose with a handkerchief he offered her. He nodded. "Yeah...I changed back, really. Less of a monster."
She smiled dryly, twisting the handkerchief in her hands as she stared out the window. "Yeah..."
"Please hear me out," he said suddenly. Her smile faltered, but she nodded anyway. "The day after you arrived at the Burrow, Harry pulled me and Ginny aside and told us he needed our help. I had been thinking about you ever since you stepped back into my life, 'Mione, and I would do anything to get you to notice I changed. I'm here to help you and Harry now. And yesterday, I realized...we can't be lovers and friends at the same time. We-"
"Why not?" she blurted, leaning forward hopelessly. Ron edged away, but neither seemed to notice as he continued. "We're just not meant to be. But I want to be in your life. I need you in mine. And...And the best way is as friends, right?"
She settled back down in her seat, her heart finally realizing Ron no longer loved her that way. The Ron she loved...didn't feel that way anymore. It gripped her heart more than she thought it would. "I'll be-"
He waved it off, an understanding look on his face. "Take as long as you need, Hermione. I'll be waiting, alright?"
She nodded stiffly, hands clenched around his handkerchief, and escaped upstairs.
The next morning, Harry rapped on her bedroom door angrily. "Hermione Granger! You step out this instant!"
Ginny rolled her eyes and twisted the doorknob, pushing the door open. The room was completely neat and tidy, done the Muggle way, they noticed, a small piece of paper on the nightstand. Harry crossed over, holding it up curiously.
It's too soon.
-HG
Review. Pretty please with a hug from Draco!
