AN: Hi, everyone. I'm terribly sorry about the seriously late update. I'm in my aunt's house right now and her internet has been really skitzy so it's been so hard to have it just... stay working. I meant to update two days ago but I couldn't get it to work. The internet, that is. Plus, this chapter was insanely hard to write. And I've been busy. So all those factors combined meant a late update.
But thank you to everyone who last reviewed: Avanell, ShatteredTruth, emaji, lostxatx7thxsea, cmtaylor731, CrystalizedHeart, iismenmeisi, BlueIrishEyes, and Story Lover. It really does mean everything to me that you do update and even the smallest one makes me smile.
This chapter is not quite as "action" filled as the previous ones but I think it's definitely important. Well, why don't you just read it and decide for yourself?
Stand and Watch It Burn
X. Someone Else's Story
Ginny paced anxiously in front the fireplace. She checked her watch several times. It was getting late, and Hermione was still not there. Where could she be? Ginny twisted her hands anxiously. It really wasn't like Hermione to not be on time. Did she forget? Ginny shook her head. That was not possible. Hermione didn't forget anything. She wouldn't forget something like this… could she?
Maybe something happened to Hermione. Ginny's stomach lurched at this thought, a feeling she hadn't felt since the war ended. What if she was hurt? Kidnapped? Killed?! Ginny shook her head again, more violently this time, willing that thought out of her head. No, no. I'm being silly! Hermione is late… that's all. Forty minutes late… Ginny frowned.
Ginny took a handful of Floo powder in the flowerpot by the fireplace and threw it into the flames. After they burst into a brilliant green, Ginny said loudly, "Ron and Hermione's!" and stuck her head in. What she found completely shocked her. Hermione and another girl were sitting calmly on the sofa, talking quietly.
"Hermione?!"
Hermione's head spun around to her fireplace. "Ginny?" she asked, sounding confused.
"Hermione, are you all right?"
"Of course," she replied. "Is… is something wrong? Nobody's hurt or in trouble, or anything?" Her voice was filled with concern.
Ginny laughed a bit nervously. "Oh… no, not if you're all right. Hermione, did you forget…"
"Oh!" Hermione's hand flew to her mouth. "Oh, Ginny, I did forgot! I can't believe it! Ginny, I'm so sorry…"
"No, it's okay," Ginny said, trying to sound reassuring. But she herself was far from reassured. "I was just getting a bit worried since you're almost never late. I was starting to wonder where you were and…"
"Ginny, I'm so, so, so unbelievably sorry! I'll be right over in a minute."
"'Kay," Ginny replied. She pulled her head out of the fire, feeling dazed. Something was wrong. Ginny knew… but she couldn't place exactly what it was.
Ginny didn't have much time to linger on that thought because as promised, within a minute, the fire in the hearth turned green and a very flustered and embarrassed Hermione stumbled through.
"Ginny, I'm so sorry. I can't believe…"
"It's fine, Hermione," Ginny said, trying to smile a bit. "You've apologized twenty times now. It's really okay! I was just worried about you, that's all. But you're all right."
"Y… Yes," Hermione said, a little too uncertainly for Ginny's liking.
"Who was that girl you were with?" Ginny asked.
Hermione hesitated a bit before she answered. "Olivia," she said.
"Olivia?" Ginny searched her memory for any previous mention of an Olivia. Coming up empty, she gave the girl standing next to her a wary glance. "I've never heard you mention an Olivia before. How come I've never heard of her?"
Hermione flushed a bit. "We… We just met," she said hurriedly.
"Where?"
"The library."
Ginny eyed Hermione suspiciously. "Where do I hide my stash of Sugar Quills at work?"
Hermione stared blankly at Ginny. "Your Sugar Q… what are you talking about, Ginny?"
"Just answer the question," Ginny responded sharply.
"In the second drawer on the left side of the desk."
"And the password?"
"Ginny, what…?"
"The password," Ginny repeated firmly.
Realisation dawned on Hermione's face. "You think I'm…" Hermione stopped abruptly. "Pickled toad."
Ginny let out a breath she didn't even know she was holding and her shoulders relaxed. "You are Hermione," she murmured.
"Of course I am." Hermione crossed her arms. "Why wouldn't I be?"
"It's just…" Ginny struggled to formulate all her jumbled thoughts into actual words. "You haven't quite been yourself lately," she finally managed to say. "You seem… distracted somehow. Like the other time we were planning and I was asking you about colours…" Ginny's eyes narrowed as she slowly recalled the conversation that had followed. Could it…? "Is something wrong, Hermione?" Ginny asked pointedly.
Hermione's eyes were downcast for a while before she turned her head up, met Ginny's gaze, and held it without wavering. "Nothing at all," she said. Hermione then smiled awkwardly. "Except that your wedding is only months away and we have a lot left to decide. So let's start!" Hermione walked out of the living room and into the kitchen, leaving Ginny behind.
Ginny stared at the empty space previously occupied by her best friend. Hermione wouldn't lie to her. No, she…
"Ginny? Are you coming?"
Following Hermione into the kitchen, Ginny forced herself to throw out any suspicions she had in her mind and instead focused her attention to lilies, baby's breath, and tulle. She was being silly.
x x x
Long ago, in someone else's lifetime
Someone with my name
Who looked a lot like me
Came to know a man and made a promise
He only had to say
And that's where she would be
x x x
Hermione carefully placed her sleeping son into his crib. It had been a long day. It had been a terribly taxing day, both physically and emotionally. She'd had to keep an artificially cheery face around Ginny and Mrs. Weasley. She had to lie to them. She hated lying, especially to people she loved and cared about, but what choice did she have? Hermione began absentmindedly stroking Aiden's hair. She couldn't tell them. Not yet. Closing her eyes, she thought of everything she'd learned and seen that day.
So Draco Malfoy had turned to the light side. Draco Malfoy was part of the Order for Merlin's sake! That alone was a lot to handle. It was just so utterly shocking and literally went against everything she held true. And that he had been under her watch… It bothered her that she didn't remember. Even now, Hermione could only remember vague outlines. If she tried hard enough, she could catch a shadow of a memory. Hermione closed her eyes and focused all her energy on trying to recall a memory, willing all things related to Draco Malfoy to come back to her… But nothing came. Hermione knew there was much more to remember. She could sense them - previously familiar sounds, smells, feelings - now distant and cold and out of reach. It bothered her that she didn't remember. But more importantly, it bothered her that no one had ever mentioned it to her. Why didn't they tell her? What were they keeping from her?
Aiden shifted in his sleep, opening his little mouth and yawning widely. Hermione smiled as she watched him sleep. He seemed so peaceful.
Hermione slumped into the rocking chair by Aiden's crib and sighed. Would she eventually remember everything? Would it slowly come back to her? If only there were a way for her to instantly have those memories back…
Hermione sat up straight. Of course. Her diary! She bolted out of Aiden's room, down the hallway, and into her bedroom. She pulled open the top drawer of her dresser and pointed her wand into a back corner where there was a secret compartment. "Lituria," she said urgently. A little door appeared. Hermione yanked it open and pulled out all the diaries she had in there.
When Hermione was younger, she would often spend hours sifting through old diaries. She liked going through what she'd written before. Some memories were more painful than others, but Hermione felt it was worth rereading and reliving. She didn't want to deny that it happened. After all, it was part of who she was. Rereading it reminded her of that. Looking back helped her learn from past mistakes too.
But lately - before with work and especially now with Aiden - Hermione had little free time to just sit around and read her diary. Hermione guessed she hadn't reread anything in at least three years.
Three years, Hermione thought. Again, three years. She flipped anxiously through her diaries, looking for the right year. Thinking hard, Hermione tried to remember what month Malfoy had shown up at the Burrow. She screwed her eyes shut and tried to visualize it.
"August," she said suddenly. Hermione looked down and saw that she had already opened the notebook to August 16th.
August 16, 1997
Malfoy showed up today, looking worn out and tired, but still every bit the ferret he is. He says he's good now. I suspend belief, but Harry says he believes him. I don't know what Malfoy could possibly say to Harry to convince him that he's truly no longer loyal to Voldemort now, but I suppose if I can't trust Harry, I can't trust anyone.
Still, Malfoy's a slimy git, and I wouldn't trust him farther than I could throw him. I wish I knew what he told Harry… maybe then I'd believe it. Maybe.
Ron was really upset with Harry. The two of them had a fantastic row after the confrontation with Malfoy. Ron was furious that Harry wouldn't tell him. I think he has been really frustrated lately and Malfoy showing up was simply the last straw. I've tried talking to him about it, but whenever I do, Ron changes the subject completely. Sometimes I feel like I just don't
Harry just came in to talk to me. He wants me to watch Malfoy while he and Ron go look for the remaining Horcruxes. I told him yes. What the bloody hell was I thinking?!! Oh Merlin… but I'm the only one who can do it, Harry said. It's war. Sacrifices have to be made. I just hope I'm not sacrificing my sanity.
Hermione turned the page. Blank. The rest of the book was blank. "Appario," she said, pointing to the diary with her wand. Perhaps she had charmed it to be invisible. Nothing. Maybe she had started a new book. Hermione did a quick check of all the other diaries. The next chronological entry was May 20, 1998.
Hermione frowned. Did someone steal her diary? Did she not write for nine months?
Then it hit her. The cabin. It had to be in the cabin. Hermione looked at the clock. It was late. She couldn't go now. Tomorrow, first thing… she'd go to the cabin to search.
Late… Ron wasn't home yet. He was working late again, Hermione supposed. Perhaps that was for the best. After putting her diaries back into their hiding place, Hermione threw herself into bed. She was exhausted. Within minutes of placing her head on the pillow, Hermione fell into a deep, dreamless sleep.
x x x
Lately,
Although those feelings run just as deep
The promise she made
Has grown impossible to keep
And yet
I wish it wasn't so
Would he miss me if I go?
x x x
When Hermione woke up, she was greeted by a brilliantly shining sun. She basked in its warmth for a few seconds. Suddenly, Hermione sat up straight in bed and looked around frantically, trying to check the time. Finding her watch, she read the time in horror. 8:09 AM.
"That can't be!" Hermione dashed out of bed and into Aiden's room. But his crib was empty. Before she had a moment to wonder what happened to her son, she heard a loud crash downstairs and someone cursing even more loudly. Cautiously, Hermione slipped down the stairs to investigate the noise. It seemed to come from the kitchen.
"Bloody… stupid… wanker…" Hermione knew that voice.
"RONALD BILIUS WEASLEY!" she yelled.
A very peeved Ron looked up at her. He was hovering over a big bowl, holding smashed eggshells in each hand. Pots and pans were strewn all over the countertop. Ron's hair was dusted with flour. Most importantly, Ron was wearing a hideous plaid apron. Apparently, the loud crash was Ron attempting to cook.
"ARE YOU OUT OF YOUR MIND?" Hermione continued screaming. "CURSING IN FRONT OF YOUR SON?" Aiden, though left to fend for himself against Ron's stream of curse words, was sitting safely in his high chair at the kitchen table, playing with a stuffed owl that was charmed to fly just over his head.
Ron blushed and mumbled an apology. Hermione normally wouldn't have let him off so easily, but she was curious as to why he was there and not at work.
"What are you doing home?" Hermione asked.
Ron tried to suppress a smile. "Took a day off," he said. "I've been working long hours lately, you know?"
"Oh, of course," Hermione said. "It'll be nice for you to spend some time with Aiden, I suppose."
Ron chuckled. "Right," he said, winking at Hermione. "With Aiden."
Hermione frowned. She wasn't in the mood to play games. "Ron, you're acting strangely."
Ron stirred what looked like some sad attempt at pancake batter with a large wooden spoon. "Am I?" He grinned. "Good job, Hermione. You almost got me for a second?"
"Got you?" Hermione stared wide-eyed at him.
Ron laughed. "Come on, Hermione. I remember. Today."
"Today," Hermione repeated. "What day is it?"
"Funny," Ron said dryly. "I'll play along. June fifth, wife, dearest."
"June fifth," Hermione said slowly. June fifth. Yes, there was something important about this day…
"Cake, if you'd like. Balloons too…"
"What the bloody hell would I want balloons for?"
"They're fun…"
"But why would I want them? Get me something better."
"You're so bloody difficult! What do you want then?"
"Use your imagination and surprise me…"
"All right, Hermione, you can stop pretending," Ron said, still grinning. "I did not forget our anniversary this year, and you can't nag to me that I did for another whole twelve months!" He threw up his arms triumphantly, obviously forgetting that he was still holding the wooden spoon in his right hand. Pancake batter from the spoon flew up and splatted onto the ceiling. "Oops…"
"Our anniversary?" Hermione whispered. Right. June fifth. But that wasn't what she was remembering…
"Bloody hell!" Ron yelled, staring at the offensive splotch of pancake batter on the ceiling. A small glop fell and landed in his eye. "Merlin!" he yelled as he rubbed his eye.
"Ron!" scolded Hermione. She pulled out her wand and pointed it at the ceiling and said, "Scourgify." Turning to face her husband, Hermione crossed her arms and said angrily, "You need to control your language in front of Aiden! I don't want his first words to be curse words."
Ron smiled cheekily at her. "Oh, you're just upset I remembered and you can't yell at me for it." He put down the spoon and gave Hermione a quick kiss. "We're going to have a great day together, Hermione," he said softly. "I know I haven't been around much lately, and you've been tired, working so hard, taking care of our son and our house. You're wonderful. I love you so much."
Hermione felt a lump in her throat. "Ron…" she started. Hermione sighed and smiled. "I love you too," she said softly. "But," Hermione continued, "I'd love you more if you'd please… just leave the cooking to me?"
"I thought I'd cook you breakfast," Ron mumbled, his ears turning red.
Hermione laughed. "Oh, Ron," she said tenderly. Hermione kissed him on the cheek and then cuffed him gently. "Why don't you go upstairs and get changed while I make real food?"
Ron scowled but went to the stairs. "I'll shower," he said.
Hermione nodded. She started putting unnecessary pots and pans away, shaking her head. Ron clearly had no idea about anything related to the kitchen or cooking. Why did Ron think he needed a ten-quart pot for making pancakes or sausage? Hermione magically swept up all the eggshell bits and flour and wiped it with a quick cleaning spell. With the area now spotless and clear of any debris, Hermione started cooking.
Hermione was preparing the sausage when she remembered. The cabin. My diary. She had to go to find it. But how? The rest of her day was now busy.
Putting down her spatula, Hermione dashed off to the fireplace. Soon, a girl's head appeared in the merrily green flames.
"What's the matter, Hermione?"
"Olivia, I need you to go to the cabin today and grab every single book there is."
"Every book?!"
"Just do it," Hermione said.
"All right," Olivia said, sounding skeptical. "I'll go later today."
"Thank you so much, Olivia. I promise I'll explain everything later when I have the time, but right now is definitely not the time."
"Don't worry about it. I understand. We'll discuss this later."
With a pop, Olivia's head disappeared.
Hermione slowly walked back to the kitchen. She sat down at the table, thinking. What was she doing? Did she really want to know what those pages of her diary contained? What if they held some terrible secret? Maybe some things were better left undiscovered.
No. She'd come too far now. She had to find out what happened three years ago…
"Hermione, the sausage is burning!"
"Oh, bloody hell!" Hermione jumped up and ran to the stove. Ron was staring at the smoking pan, gaping at their ruined breakfast. "Thanks for the help, Ronald," Hermione snapped.
"You cursed," Ron pointed out.
Hermione ignored him and instead inspected the sausage carefully. "Inedible," she said, scrunching up her nose in disgust. "It's all right, I'll cook some more."
"All right," Ron said. "And hurry up! Aiden and I are hungry, right, Ai?" Ron picked up Aiden and tossed him up. Aiden giggled wildly and gurgled.
"Don't toss him around like that, Ron."
"After breakfast, I have this great day planned out for us," Ron said excitedly. "You're going to love it, Hermione. We're going to go to the duck pond and have a picnic lunch. And tonight we'll have dinner at that fancy French restaurant in Diagon Alley you've been wanting to try."
"That sounds lovely," Hermione said a little uneasily. It truly did sound lovely, but Hermione felt absolutely torn. She wished she sounded as enthused as she forced herself to be. Ron, however, didn't seem to notice anything was wrong. He continued grinning happily at her. Ron then leaned in and kissed her.
"I love you, 'Mione."
"And I love you," Hermione replied automatically.
x x x
In a way
It's someone else's story
I don't see myself
As taking part at all
Yesterday,
A girl that I was fond of
Finally could see
The writing on the wall
x x x
"Here you go," Olivia said, dumping a stack of books onto the floor. "Books, books, and more books. All from the cabin."
"Thanks," Hermione said. She spread them out examined them.
"So remind me… what we're looking for?"
"A diary. My diary," Hermione responded.
Olivia gave the stack a scrutinizing look. "Well that rules out these," she said, pushing aside all the books with titles. "Unless of course, you charmed it to look like a boring book. Like… Mystical Creatures of the Deep or something." Olivia pointed at a blue book with fancy gilt binding.
"Underwater magical creatures are absolutely fascinating!" Hermione said defensively. "But, no, I didn't. It should look like a plain old book. Titleless. Plain cover. With writing in it. I didn't usually bother charming the writing to be invisible."
"What colour would you usually go for?"
Hermione perused the books. "Oh, any colour really."
"Great," Olivia mumbled. "Narrows it down wonderfully. Don't know why you'd have so many bloody books in your cabin anyway?"
"Just look," Hermione said.
The two looked through the massive pile of books, throwing aside the ones that weren't what they were looking for.
"So how was yesterday?" Olivia asked.
Hermione tensed. "Yesterday?" she repeated.
"With your husband," Olivia replied.
"It was… a day," Hermione said. "He tried to cook breakfast for me."
Olivia laughed. "And how did that go?"
"Disastrously," Hermione said, shaking her head. "I cleaned up after him and then made a real breakfast."
"Well, at least he tried. I think that's rather sweet."
"I suppose."
Neither said anything for a while. Hermione turned over a few books. Her mind felt rather heavy at the moment, and idle chatter wasn't something she needed. But all the same, she was bursting to talk. There was so much to say. But there was nothing to say because she didn't know what it was she was trying to say. And the more she thought about it the more confused she became.
"What do you think it is?"
The question pulled Hermione out of her rhetorical string of questions. "What do I think what is?"
Olivia was studying the book she was holding. "That they're not telling you."
"I don't know," Hermione replied. "Something. Something big."
Olivia looked up at Hermione. "What was it like? Watching Malfoy? Do you remember?"
"A little…"
"Was it terrible?"
Hermione tilted her head and bit her lip. "It was… No," she said finally. "It wasn't. I think… I think eventually he and I got along."
"Got along?" Olivia raised an eyebrow. "You got along with Malfoy? Is that possible? From what you've told me, you two hated each other all the time you were at Hogwarts. He absolutely loathed you, and you weren't exactly his biggest fan either."
"Something happened," Hermione said. She squinted her eyes as if trying to see something far off in the distance. "I don't remember what. But something happened." She kept trying to focus. The outlines. Again, Hermione could see the outlines. Slowly, the picture was getting sharper. Stone walls. A lake. White marble…
"It must have been something huge," Olivia mused.
"Yes," Hermione whispered, her eyes widening as the memory flooded back. "Yes it was."
x x x
Sadly,
She realized she'd left him behind
And sadder than that
She knew he wouldn't even mind
And though
There's nothing left to say
Would he listen if I stay?
x x x
Draco Malfoy had never really been a fan of birthdays. Oh, sure, he enjoyed the extravagant parties and gifts, but other than that they always seemed rather empty to him. What was a birthday anyway? He never understood why people celebrated birthdays. It's not as if a person did anything on his or her birthday other than be born. And it was their mothers that did all the work, not them. Draco's birthdays were always filled with insincere people and hollow best wishes. His parents had always insisted on throwing him a huge party. They took care to invite everyone who was anyone and took notes on who didn't come. There would be a huge show of Draco opening some obscenely expensive gift in front of all the guests. Hordes of people Draco didn't recognize would come to him, wish him a happy birthday, and give him expensive gifts he had no use fore.
Happy Birthday. What did that mean anyway?
He'd almost forgotten that yesterday was his birthday. But his mother had to ruin it. She had come in that morning, smiling – a very, very foreign expression for her to have on her face.
Well, Draco hadn't exactly forgotten. He had tried to forget. Draco didn't exactly want to be reminded about how empty that day was.
Draco almost wished he'd accepted Davids's offer. Dinner with the kind old man probably would have been nice. At the very least, he wouldn't have had to deal with his mother saying that June fifth was the most significant, important day of her life and how Draco was the best thing that ever happened to her.
It only reminded him of what an utter failure he was.
Draco yanked viciously at some weeds that had dared to attack his peonies. The garden now was his only haven. And he was weeding the flower beds.
Shaking the dirt from his gloves, Draco straightened up and examined his handiwork. Not a weed in sight, he thought proudly. Having finished his work, Draco took off the heavy gloves and started putting the tools away. Draco started to leave and had passed the gate when he abruptly stopped. He cast a glance over his shoulder and gave it one last look before leaving. His eyes wandered across his garden and finally landed on the green thorny bush at the centre of it. Still flowerless. Maybe I should chop the bloody useless thing down, he thought viciously. But no. He knew he didn't have the heart. Draco turned and walked away.
If Draco had looked a little closer, he might have caught sight of a tiny bud, hidden among the leaves.
AN: I struggled a lot with this chapter, mainly trying to keep everyone in character. Ron was the easiest because he's the most oblivious. But Ginny can notice the change in Hermione and she's not sure how to deal with it. And how would Hermione deal with lying to her best friend, and later to her husband? So perhaps you can see why I struggled so much with this chapter.
The next update should be soon! But I could be coaxed to update even sooner if you review... [evil laughter