I don't own Harry Potter. Meh.
AN: Wow, chapter 10. Hoo-wee, boy. I hope you like it. :)
His lips found hers in the dead of night and they had one moment of recognition before her breath was gone and his hands were at her waist. She writhed beneath him, put a hand to his shoulder to push him away and instead she only brought him closer. Push, pull, push. He groaned into the darkness and she twisted her head about, trying to escape him. Or was it escape? What was it- who- Her lips formed a word as she cried. Ron. Ron, ron-
"Ron!" she gasped and sat up in bed.
There was no one there.
Hermione stared into the dark space before her and then flopped back onto her bed. Well, at least she hadn't woken ready to retch again. That was a nice change. Her lips pursed as she mouthed his name again. She practiced saying it aloud, whispering it to the air. Then she rolled over in her bed and pressed her face to the pillow and prayed she would never wake up.
Draco lay awake in bed, waiting for the cries. When none came, he got up and went downstairs anyway. Stood outside her door. What was the matter? What if something had happened to her that prevented her crying out?
Or what if, he told himself angrily, she's just managed to sleep through the night because you spent all day planting trees and pulling weeds and she's tired? What if she's smarter than you and simply sleeping right now?
Draco tried to make himself climb the stairs again, but every creak of the old house, every breath of air through a crack made him turn back and stare at her door expectantly. He stood outside her room, pacing, standing still, pacing again, his head in his hands, for over an hour.
Finally, when he was so weary he couldn't see straight, he heard a soft noise coming from behind the door. He leaned his head on the wood, pressed his ear to it.
She was crying.
He stared stupidly at his feet, wondering why he felt so happy to hear her crying. He shouldn't be happy she was crying- he wasn't happy about it. He realized the feeling coursing through his chest was relief that he knew she was still there and alive.
Practically crawling, he made his way up the stairs and to his bed and slept soundly the rest of the night.
Ginny was pounding on the kitchen door and it was six in the morning.
Hermione was pissed off. Sure, it was about the time she'd be getting up and starting chores anyway, but that didn't give her Ginny the right to wake the whole damn farm.
The thought gave her a small thrill and she kicked herself mentally. Right, she was excited because there was a 'whole damn farm' now, except it consisted of two convicts and a mental case, she reminded herself. She really better not start counting her chickens before they hatched. Otherwise she wouldn't have enough eggs for omelets. She grinned at her own early morning humor and reached for her robe.
"Hermione! Please come unlatch this damn thing!" Ginny called and Hermione hurried out of her bedroom to meet her friend's request.
"Shh," she hushed Ginny as she let her in. "I think they're still asleep."
"So?" Ginny said. "What does that have to do with anything? Is that why you're giving up the therapy, so they can sleep longer?"
Hermione gave the other witch a mild glance. "I see apparating this early makes somebody cranky," she said as she started the coffeepot.
Ginny glared at her. "Oh, please. When were you going to inform me of these new plans?"
"What new plans?"
"You know perfectly well what I'm talking about."
"Ginny, I knew you would act this way."
"Of course I'm acting this way! I'm your best friend! You're supposed to talk about your issues with me, not decide to devote yourself whole-heartedly to two worthless Death Eaters and then forget to tell me!"
Hermione slammed a coffee mug down in front of Ginny. "I already asked you to keep it down once."
Ginny lowered her voice and continued to glare.
"Oh, pardon me. I wouldn't want to wake your hired men. Tell me, are they-"
Hermione whirled about, put both hands on the counter and stared Ginny down.
"Whatever you are about to say, don't. I promise you, you will regret it later and I do not want your whiny arse bawling all over my living room and drinking my best wine. Is that clear?"
Ginny closed her mouth and Hermione turned around, waited quietly for the coffee to finish perking. Then she poured them each a mug.
"Now what's happened? Have you tried to give up smoking? Is that what's behind this?"
Ginny drank her coffee, eyed Hermione over the rim of the mug. "I don't know what you mean."
"Ginny, we've been through enough together that I know how your mind works. Something has set you off. What is it? New top shrunk in the wash? Utility bills higher because of the live-in servant?" She eyed Ginny appraisingly. "Or is it the live-in help, himself?"
Ginny shook her head, took another sip of coffee. "No, I just…I hate to see you turning your life upside down for those two fools. They don't deserve it."
"Everyone deserves a second chance."
"That sounds more like you," Ginny said softly and smiled. "But I thought you didn't want anything to do with wizards anymore."
"Maybe I'm just a masochist."
"Or maybe you really do think they deserve a second chance, as strange as I find it," Ginny replied. "So what, are you going to try and reform the whole RATS system now? Ready to get back into the wizarding world, effect some change?"
Hermione snorted and set her mug in the sink. "No." She ran her hands across the counter top and then turned around again. "Not yet, anyway." She looked at Ginny keenly. "Do you think I'm crazy?"
Ginny just stared at her, brows raised, a wry smile on her face. Seconds later an answering smile hit Hermione.
"Don't answer that," the women chortled at the same time.
Ten minutes later Hermione was handing Ginny some extra boots and leading her out to the barn.
"What about getting your free labor to do this for you?"
Hermione shrugged. "I already showed them the ropes- or one of them. So there's no question that Draco can do the work. But I think I rather wore them out yesterday with the planting. Besides, there's nothing quite like coming out here by myself, in the early morning." She opened the barn door to let the breeze in and heard the tired whinnies of greeting from several of her early risers.
Walking along the aisle, she stopped and greeted each horse that was awake- or just waking- and Ginny did the same.
"There," Hermione murmured, cupping the nose of a chestnut mare. "You remember your Aunty Ginny, don't you? Yes," she said, clicking her tongue. Ginny followed suit and rested her hand on the mare's neck and smiled at Hermione.
"They are beautiful," she admitted.
"Soothing. I love them, even when they misbehave. But that hardly ever happens with you, does it girl?" she cooed to the mare, who tossed her head as if agreeing. Ginny laughed, delighted, and Hermione cast her another smile before she began to open stall doors and attach leads to a few of the horses.
"Time to go outside, girl," she said and the chestnut followed her happily. Then came her Arabian and some retired Thoroughbreds she'd had brought over from the states. After she'd secured the pasture gate and Ginny had hung on it, gazing out over the serene fields covered with morning mist, they headed on back to the cows. From there they collected some more eggs and then they left the quiet peace of a barn in the morning to deposit their treasures in the kitchen.
In the kitchen, where Draco sat at the table, looking tired as all fuck and trying desperately not to glare at them as they walked in, smiling and chatting.
Hermione merely raised a brow at his stony silence and put their things down.
"You could have made breakfast," she said and Ginny leaned against the wall, watching them both curiously.
"Why didn't you wake us?" he asked.
"There is an alarm clock in your room," she replied and tossed an orange to Ginny. "Could you peel that, please?"
Ginny smiled at her and moved up to the counter. Draco looked over and blinked a few times. Then he looked back at Hermione.
"So you already did all the chores?"
"We did," she said. "Disappointed?"
"Not in the least," he snapped. He stood up and started to walk out, then paused. "Good morning, by the way," he said stiffly to Ginny.
She glanced up from the orange and gave him a look. He didn't bother returning it and left. Ginny frowned.
"What the hell was that?" she asked Hermione pointedly.
Hermione started scooping out flour for pancakes and reached for a few eggs. "Nothing. That was Malfoy. It's how he is."
"You put up with him talking to you that way?"
"It's not like he can follow through with any of his attitude or threats," Hermione replied. "And he's stuck here until he's released. So his mouth is the only real freedom his has."
"Release…" Ginny rolled the idea around in her head for a moment and the women worked in silence. Ginny finally opened her mouth again.
"You really think RATS cares whether they're rehabilitated or not, that the Wizengamot cares?"
Hermione shrugged. "It doesn't matter if they care. It's what the program was originally designed to do and it's what I care about." She glanced up at Ginny, suddenly concerned. "You don't think they'd actually force them to stay in the program, do you? Even once they are fit-"
"I don't know," Ginny interrupted her, "and I don't care. You're the one who's gone all soft on me."
"Bloody hell, Ginny, what do you expect me to do? Beat them? Flay them alive? Force them to crawl about on all fours like animals? They're not animals and this isn't SPEW. They're men who are paying a price for their decisions and I can't just turn them out, not now. Not after I've seen them, worked with them."
"Not even for the sake of your own sanity, your own job? Those children need you, too. And you need them. No amount of kindness to the Malfoys is going to stop your shakes, or- or bring Ron back!"
Hermione didn't hesitate. She slapped Ginny across the face and the other witch never saw it coming. She held her cheek for a minute, staring at Hermione with her mouth open and eyes wide, tears filling them.
Hermione's stuck her chin out and swallowed, her hands at her sides in fists. Ginny didn't say a word, just stood there, and after a moment of tense silence Hermione turned around and hunched over the counter. She clung to it for support as her shoulders started shaking, then slowly let herself slide down it to the floor, tears streaking down her angry face.
"You should leave," she mumbled to Ginny.
"That's the dumbest thing I've heard all year," the red haired witch replied. She knelt down in front of Hermione. "I deserved that."
"No one deserves to be hit," Hermione whispered.
"Maybe not, but I've deserved a good tongue lashing from you for ages and you've never said a word. So consider the score settled. Now are you going to stop bawling for shame and get up, or do I have to make the pancakes for you?"
Hermione sniffled into her sleeve and Ginny rolled her eyes and produced a tissue.
"Ginny, I'm so-"
"If you say you're sorry I'll return the favor. Now come on, up." She helped Hermione stand and watched as the other witch wiped at her ruined face and then berated herself mentally. "Come on, Hermione. Being mad at yourself won't help anything. And I…that was really out of line. I shouldn't have said it and I apologize."
Hermione merely nodded and reached over, took her hand. She gave it a good squeeze.
"I love you, Ginny. I do."
Ginny shifted about and finally said, "I love you, too," in a gruff voice. It was immediately followed by her checking her pockets. "Merlin, I need a smoke."
Hermione watched her friend walk out onto the back porch and proceed to smoke two cigarettes in a row. Turning her attention to the pancakes, she pulled the griddle out and had just finished the first batch when Ginny came back inside. There was still no sign of Lucius or Draco, but she could hear the sounds of them being awake and about coming from upstairs. A sudden thought hit her.
My walls are thin, she thought. My walls are thin and I have nightmares.
Her face turned ashen and Ginny stared at her.
"What's wrong?"
"Oh…nothing. Just wondering if I shouldn't have someone come and soundproof the house for me."
"Ah-ha, so you are plotting evil deeds," Ginny said.
"Don't be absurd." Hermione glanced at the ceiling again. Ginny looked up too and then watched her friend, a bemused look upon her face. The red was fading from her abused cheek already- Hermione hadn't really put much force into the action.
"So, about your job-"
"Ginny, I'm not giving it up forever. Just for the summer- and you know I often take a break then anyhow. It's still a strain for me, no matter how much I enjoy it. I'm still only at one lesson a week."
"So it's not permanent." Ginny seemed relieved and Hermione handed her a plate with a stack of cakes on it.
"Not in the slightest. I still don't know how it will all work out, but I promise, I'm not giving up anything for them, not really."
Ginny eyed her friend as she passed Ginny the butter and syrup and then went over to the foot of the stairs to call up to her strays.
Somehow, she doubted Hermione's word. But the things she was so clearly giving up- the lessons, even if it was only for a while; the peace and quiet of solitude; the freedom to do as she pleased out here without consequence… Those were all things Hermione had sought out to try and help herself heal. And so far, eight years after, she was doing much better, but the mental scars were far from healing over. The peace and freedom she'd had before signing on for the program had been illusions, really. So while she was giving them up…somehow, Ginny thought it wasn't much of a sacrifice.
Just the fact that Hermione could stand in the same room with Lucius and Draco and not quiver and quake where she stood; could stare them down and order them about; could speak to them firmly and without hesitation…they were triumphs. Ginny wished she felt the same victories in her own pathetic life. Her eyes flicked to the bruise on her wrist, hidden by her long sleeves. She glanced back at Hermione, helping Lucius down the final steps of the staircase, and Draco, hovering about them anxiously.
With a longing she hadn't felt in ages, she realized she wanted that, too. Kindness and compassion for others, no matter what. She was tired of the rage that took over her life and made her frightened of everything.
Standing up, she wordlessly pulled out a chair for Lucius and her eyes met Hermione's.
Help me.
AN: Poor Ginny. At least, I feel sorry for her. She's let anger at feeling helpless turn her into a bitch. But she's coming around, little by little, I think. And we should have some more Lucius soon (but not too soon). You guys really liked his little episode of lucidity, it seems.