Chapter 14

George and Hermione sat in front of the television, happy for a quiet night at home. "This is nice," he decided as he sipped his tea. "We don't spend enough time together anymore. You really need to be less busy so you can tend to my needs."

"I don't see that happening any time soon," she replied sadly, patting his leg. "Once school is done, there's a new store to open and run. We might never see each other again. You, my friend, might need to get a girlfriend. Or you could move back in with your mum. She'd give you all the attention your heart desires."

Scowling, he shook his head. "I'd have to live with Ron again," he muttered. "Don't think Draco didn't tell me what happened the other day. I'm not the only person who's told my brother to stay away from you. Thick head."

"I understand his anger," Hermione admitted. "I don't think I've been as good a friend to them as I thought I was."

George scoffed. "Why? Because you didn't tell them about Fred?" he asked. "Did Ron consult you when he started snogging Lavender Brown for all to see? The two of you had your reasons for keeping your relationship a secret, and Ron doesn't deserve an explanation."

"I did leave for a year without talking to them," she reminded him.

Shaking his head, George got to his feet. "And if they'd done the same thing, they'd be mad if you demanded answers," he countered. "Face it, Hermione, they don't care about your feelings. They don't care that you're happy, or that you and Draco are in a good place. They care only about themselves. They didn't have to talk to the papers about you. Sure, they were asked, but a simple 'no comment' would have sufficed. Don't defend them. You weren't here, I was. I know that they don't deserve it. They don't deserve you. You need to belong to a new trio? Done. You've got Draco and me."

Hermione grinned as she rose to hug him. "Can I confiscate your broom and whack you over the head with the newspaper when you're being obstinate?" she asked.

Smiling, he reciprocated the embrace. "Can you? You smacked me with the paper this morning," he reminded her.

"I hate slurping," she muttered, feeling a chill race down her spine at the very thought of it.

His grin grew wider. "I know. That's why I do it," he replied.

Pulling away, she swatted his arm and returned to the sofa. "Why were you so quick to forgive Draco?" she wondered.

"I wasn't," he admitted, taking a seat beside her. "I didn't trust him, and I didn't like the idea of him being around you. But then I started watching him, and I watched you too. You were happy, more like your old self, around him. That was enough for me. What about you? Same question."

"Desperation," she joked. "I don't know. I came home and he was the first person there. He was different, and...I don't know how to explain it. I just liked him. I understand why Harry and Ron were upset. It's not that I've forgotten how Draco treated us, it's just that I've managed to forgive him for it."

Looping an arm around her shoulders, George kissed her temple. "From what Draco's said, Harry seems like he's beginning to come around," he remarked. "Think you could forgive him like you did Draco?"

"I thought you didn't want me to," she replied.

"Since when do you do what I want you to do?" he countered.

Hermione chuckled. "Good point," she mumbled. "Honestly, I don't know. Maybe I could. He did chuck your brother out of the Leaky that morning. I didn't think he was really sorry when he came to apologize, but maybe he was. Do you think I should hear him out?"

"Yeah, I do," he replied. "I also think you should leave Draco at home. Do this one on your own, but do it because you want to do it."

That night, Hermione sent Harry a note asking him to meet her for coffee the next morning. She barely slept that night, wondering if he would show and how their conversation would go. When the sun rose, she dragged herself out of bed, showered, dressed, and left the shop to wander Diagon Alley. The air had grown chilly as the winter months approached, and she regretted not drying her hair before leaving.

"Couldn't sleep either?" Harry called to her from the front steps of the Leaky Cauldron.

Turning, she smiled at him. "I was a bit anxious," she admitted. "What's your excuse for being up so early?"

Harry shrugged. "Nightmares," he reluctantly answered. She nodded empathetically. Most nights, nightmares kept her awake as well. "Dumbledore this time. What I can't understand is why he's always holding socks when I dream about him."

They entered the pub, finding it empty so early in the morning, and ordered coffee. "I, um, I'm glad you agreed to meet me," she said nervously as they sat down. "A lot has happened between us over the years, and I know we've fought in the past. I would just hate to think that this is it, that we're over."

Shaking his head, he reached across the table for her hand. "I understand why you left," he told her. "Hell, I tried to leave too. I never should have said anything to those reporters. Sometimes I forget to think when I'm mad."

"Like the time you called me a buck-toothed know-it-all when I turned in your broom to Professor McGonagall," she reminded him.

Harry blushed. "You, uh, you heard that?" he asked. "I didn't mean it, you know."

"Did you mean what you told the papers?" she wondered. "Did you mean it when you said I was a horrible friend, or that I should have stayed away?"

He shook his head, seemingly remorseful for what had transpired between them. "No, and I never should have said it," he replied. "I didn't know where you'd gone or what you were doing, but it was your choice not to tell me. I should have respected the decision you made. I just wish I could have helped somehow. You stuck by me through everything. It would have been nice to be there for you for once."

"I could have told you," she agreed. "It might have been good to have someone with me. Losing Fred though, and then my parents, it was too much. Being alone was easier. I got it into my head that if I were alone, I couldn't get hurt. And then Draco came along."

Harry smiled. "You really like him, don't you."

"I really do," she replied. "So, um, do you think we could be friends again?"

He sipped his coffee, considering his next question. "What's Malfoy going to think about us being friends?" he wondered.

Hermione sighed and looked away. "I think when it comes to certain people, he has a hard time forgiving," she said, choosing her words carefully. "He, um, we're in a really good place right now, and he doesn't do well with people who hurt me."

"I swear to you, Hermione, I'm done hurting you."