Chapter 7 - Got a feeling that I'm going under.

Disclaimer: All the characters belong to the wonderful J. K. Rowling and producers of Harry Potter.

(Five years later)

It's over.

It's all over and all she could think was, "I should've seen this coming". Considering all the facts, it was a forgone conclusion and she should've known. It was too late now anyways.

Like a flame it had started out with a flare and burned strong. Ron was kind, understanding and comfortable. Sure, it wasn't love at first sight, but he had grown on her and, conveniently, he was her best friend.

Now, it'd be a miracle if they could stay in the same room for a spell without igniting a shouting match. She thought about the last time that happened and flinched visibly.

She had been invited at Molly's to celebrate Charlie's new promotion as the Lead Specialist at the department of 'Regulation and Control of Magical Creatures' and she wasn't able to talk her way out of it. So, she went. She had tried to delay it as much as she could and had stayed in her office until it was time for the floo network to close. At the very last moment, she threw the floo powder in her office fireplace and shouted 'The Burrow.' Seconds later, she stumbled into what looked like a flurry of red hair.

It seemed everyone had sat down for dinner already. As it was common, the room was in a happy commotion until her presence was noted.

A pair of green eyes spotted her and widened slightly. Harry jumped up to greet her and she almost wept when he engulfed her in a heartfelt embrace. They hadn't talked in a while; to be exact, since his daughter, Lily, was born and it had taken its toll on the both of them. He was far more occupied now, helping Ginny as much as possible with the new baby. As it should be, Hermione thought remorsefully.

She was then greeted with friendly smiles and similar hugs all around, that is, until it was just him and her.

And it was awkward. And uncomfortable. As it always had been between them after a fight.

Only this time was different. This time there was no going back. No more working through their problems. No more discussions. No more fights. Just no more.

What do you say to someone you had spent the last five years learning to love but couldn't. What can you say to someone who was your best friend but wasn't anymore. What can she say?

She hadn't yet decided how exactly to greet him when stopped her.

"Don't bother. I was leaving, anyway. Congratulations, Charlie. G'night, mum." He started to walk away, ignoring his mum as she tried to make him see reason.

"Ron, wait."

She had known it was pointless but she'd tried anyway.

For a moment no one said anything. He had actually stopped.

She inhaled harshly. This was it. She had to try to regain some semblance of their friendship.

"Ron, I-" She blinked rapidly. What can she say, that hasn't already been said before?

She sighed and tried again.

"Can we just- can we not go back to the way we were, before … you know." Not as articulate as she had thought but her emotions were in an array and she couldn't think properly.

"Are you serious?" He spoke through clenched teeth, sounding almost surprised.

"Ron, I just want us to be able to sit at a table together and-" she started frustratingly.

"And what? Be friends?" He snorted. "You must be joking." He shook his head and stared at her incredulously. "You wanted this Hermione, not me. Don't make it out to be my fault." His face scrunched up and he spoke as if he was in pain as he said, "You were the one who walked away."

This was exactly what she did not want to talk about. Especially not in front of his parents.

"Can we talk about this somewhere else?" She could tell how desperate she sounded. He was, after all, telling the truth.

"No. I don't want to talk about this at all. I'm leaving!"

And this time she didn't stop him. No one did. So he left, leaving the room feeling empty.

"Hermione-" Harry spoke up.

She breathed heavily. "I'm fine, Harry. You should go after him."


He was sitting at his desk, jotting down the key points that he was going to eliminate from his opponent's argument tomorrow, when he heard the distinctive knock that only belonged to one person he knew.

"Father." He greeted uncertainly as his father strolled in.

"Draco." His father replied tensely.

He saw his father's eyes shift with a look that he had gotten too good at interpreting: guilt. This did not bode well.

"Is everything alright, Father?"

Whatever it was, he did not want to prolong this visit. His boss, the head of the Department of Magical Law Enforcement, did not usually mind if he had visitors but he took his work quiet seriously. He had finally found a position that he excelled at. A place he belonged.

"You're mother and I are concerned."

"I beg your pardon." He asked queerly.

"You are not getting any younger and we are worried about …. procreation."

"WHAT?!" He practically choked on his own saliva. "FATHER-"

"Now Draco, I'm not doubting your carnal abilities but-" his father said patronizingly.

"My carnal- I beg your pardon?!" He could feel a blush coming on and he hated that his father could still affect him this way.

"Well, you are getting old-" Lucius rolled his eyes. As always, his son was overreacting.

"I'm NOT old!"

"Draco, you have to think about the future of the Malfoys. And there is no better way to proliferate the Malfoy line then to impregnate the witch as soon as possible."

"I'm not discussing this." Draco stormed to the only window in the room, for once, ignoring the beautiful view.

A dozen beautiful, dancing girls, suddenly appearing, couldn't make this conversation easier or less embarrassing for him, at the moment.

"This isn't easy for me either but your mother is a force of the most obstinate nature. She is concerned that soon you won't be able to rise to the occasion."

Draco was speechless. Completely flabbergasted. If his jaw had dropped any lower it would have touched the ground. He couldn't believe his mother of all people would contemplate his …. Well, it was too horrifying to even consider.


"You are on her side now?!" Ron whirled away as he couldn't look at his supposed best friend.

"I'm on both of your sides! You guys are my best friends. And it makes me feel wretched to see you two fighting." Harry was battling his own anger now. He had followed Ron through the floo into his apartment and already listened to him rave about the injustice of it all.

Ron sighed. He was tired of all the fighting. He didn't want to fight anymore.

"Well we aren't fighting anymore. We are not doing anything anymore."

"That's not what I meant, Ron." Harry pulled at his unruly hair in frustration.

"There is nothing you can say to make this better." Ron said, rather dejectedly.

"Well, I can try. That's more then what you are doing!" Harry replied furiously. He couldn't understand why Ron wasn't doing anything. If he wanted Hermione, why not go after her? His friend was so thick sometimes.

"That's hardly fair, Harry. I did try. I tried for weeks to figure out why she kept pulling away. She wouldn't explain anything to me. There is no use trying anymore."

"I … why she … Ron what are you saying?"

"I was going to ask her to marry me, Harry!"

"What, that's great mate-"

"No, Harry, you just don't get it, do you?! I said I was ready to marry her. I was. She wasn't."

Silence.

"Whaa … uh …"

"She wouldn't even tell me why she won't have me." Ron whispers.