(A/N: Thank you to my lovely reviewers, subscribers, and favouriters… Or whatever y'all are called. I love you all!)
Hermione collapsed onto her bed. In reality, she had known that she and Ron wouldn't last. They were too close to being siblings to survive as a couple. Still, it wasn't very easy to let go of the boy she had liked since she was, well, young. She didn't even know really when she started liking him, just that she did, and now it didn't matter.
To top it off, Malfoy was the one that had found her. He even seemed concerned. Hermione knew better than that, of course, but it was still weird to be on the receiving end of his 'care'. It made her almost wish he was serious.
Almost.
The rational part of her brain kicked in then, telling her she had homework that needed to be done, and she couldn't lay around wallowing in self pity.
The part of her brain that was in favor of wallowing in self pity reminded her that she had most of her homework done, and it was Friday, so nothing was due the next day. After a moment, it seemed that the wallowing in self pity part of her brain had won. She stared up at the top of the canopy bed. It looked just like the one in her old dorm, except it was bigger. She wondered if it looked that way because that's what she had been hoping for. The bed in her old dorm was as much hers as the one at her parents' house had been.
I am not going to think about that now, she thought firmly, pushing her thoughts to the attached room instead. In years past, the Heads had shared a common area and kitchen space but had separate bedrooms and bathrooms. This year, she and Neville each had their own space – it was one of the changes made after the rebuilding of the castle, McGonagall had told her. They were trying it this year, and would decide if the change would be permanent based on how she and Neville commented on the arrangement after the year was up. They technically had access to the extra room that was still connected, but she hadn't been in there yet. There was no need. She figured that if Ginny or Luna had wanted to spend the night for whatever reason, they could sleep there and be comfortable. She also had assumed, upon learning of the room, that if Harry or Ron decided they wanted to visit (with permission, of course), they'd have a place to stay.
Now, that wasn't very likely to happen, she thought. This time, her thoughts refused to be pushed to the back of her mind. It wasn't that she wanted to dwell on her current situation. In fact, she didn't. The problem was that she really had nothing else better to do. Her intention had been to come up to her room and go to sleep early, but that plan was apparently shot. She knew very well that sleep wouldn't come easily after both the letter and the Malfoy incident. With a sigh, she sat up and swung her feet to the ground. It was time for some hot chocolate.
Malfoy's feet had taken him, unsurprisingly, to the Room of Requirement. They always seemed to take him there. It was probably still a habit ingrained in him from his sixth year, since he spent so much bloody time there. However, he still hadn't dared to try to get in. As he unconsciously paced back and forth along the corridor, his thoughts wandered.
Of course she didn't trust you. What did you expect?
'Something, apparently,' Draco thought back miserably. 'If she's changed and all.'
Just because someone changed doesn't make them stupid. And trusting you would be.
'I'm not the person I used to be. I think we've both figured that out.' This time, the replying thought to his own mind was bitter.
If you aren't who you were, then who are you?
To this, Draco had no answer, so he ignored it. Funny, how he had learned to ignore his own mind. Sometimes it posed questions that he didn't want to think about. Since he had been back at Hogwarts, it was happening increasingly often.
That's a lie, the voice in question spoke up. It started occurring with a greater frequency after the final battle.
Again, Draco didn't reply, but this time, it wasn't for lack of an answer. He knew quite well that seeing Granger sitting there in her little bubble of peace and tranquility had stuck with him, longer than he had anticipated. He didn't like it, not one bit.
That would be the last time he tried to help her.
The day after, Ginny made her way back to Hermione's room. Hermione heard the knock and looked up from her homework, wondering whether or not to answer said knock. After a moment, she realized she was being stupid – she had no reason to hide. She set her quill down, making sure it wasn't on the parchment had been writing on for the last half hour, and moved towards the door.
"Hermione?" Ginny called. "Are you-" The door opened. "-in there. Hi," she finished.
"Hi Ginny. Yes, I'm in here. I needed to finish the sentence before I stood up," the lie came smoothly, and Hermione wondered if she should be worried. "Come on in."
The younger girl did so, and joined Hermione on the couch. "My brother wrote me a similar letter."
"Oh," Hermione said, realizing why Ginny had been so upset the night before. Of course Ron had told his sister. Everyone probably knew by now, she thought bitterly.
"-shouldn't have, but I guess he didn't want you to be able to hex him or something," Ginny was saying. Hermione shook her head to clear her thoughts, wondering what the beginning of that sentence had been.
"Yeah…" she mumbled when her friend paused. "Well…"
"I know, I know," Ginny sighed. "I shouldn't expect anything less. Ron's always been like that. He just does things without really thinking. Taking the car in his – and your – second year, trying to hex Malfoy with a broken wand, getting angry at Harry over nothing in your fourth year…" she paused, and Hermione picked up for the sake of saying something.
"…kissing Lavender in sixth year, leaving our campsite last year…"
"…and then, this. Writing you to tell you… Sorry." Ginny looked down. "I still can't believe it."
Hermione sighed. "Me neither. I guess I can, in a way, because he's kind of like my brother. I mean, I've known him since I was eleven. Since he was eleven. That doesn't really happen that often." If she really thought about it, it could go either way. She and Ron didn't really have any huge secrets from each other – she'd been around him most of the time for the past seven years – same as Harry – and seven years was a long time to, well, notice things.
You're trying to make yourself feel better; justify why you should be okay with him ending things, the little voice in her head pointed out.
'So what if I am,' Hermione thought. 'I'm allowed to make myself feel better.'
"I've known Harry for just as long, though," Ginny said, not unkindly. "I think my brother is just being a git."
"Oh, that could be it too," Hermione agreed, finally laughing. "Actually, that's probably it."
They sat in silence for a few minutes, Ginny lost in thought and Hermione putting the finishing touches on her essay. Then, just as Hermione put her quill down, Ginny cracked a smile.
"You know what this means, right?"
Hermione turned to look at her friend, whose smile was accompanied by an almost evil-looking glint in her eyes.
"What?" She asked warily.
"We have to get you a new, hot boyfriend."
(A/N: I know it's short. I'm still 10k words behind in my NaNo novel. Let me know if you think the Draco/Hermione feelings are moving too fast. I think I need to slow it down, but I'd like your input! Now, if you'd be so kind as to review this chapter, I'll give you cookies. Or cupcakes. Whichever you prefer. Ciao!)
