WOOHOO! 100 REVIEWS! This has to be the happiest day of my life! Lol, I've never gotten this many reviews about… well, anything. As a monument to this achievement, I'd like to take a minute to recognize and thank my reviewers… (why does it sound like I'm receiving an Oscar or something? Lol)… and they are: Ophellia Immortal (sissy, I love you dearly!), TriGemini, Mojojojo, Fish Head the 3rd and Co, Nikki, Nikkuman, CareBearErin, mizzlanfear, smartcat, SelfHatred, anofeelings, ToraNoKo123, jessicariddle87, ProwlingKitKat, Can't be bothered to sign in…(who are you, I wonder!), DracosxonexandxonlyxLioness, itachi-sama a.k.a. cathrun, sare, House's Lil' Princess, bloodwitch88, BBMacintosh, Blackpants, teky1389, Peachy (I love you!), Shelby Cobra Queen, LosingTrack, Draco letifer res rei, Michelle Felton, meto, Avanell, LILHOUSELF, asianhomie101, the fading phoenix, closet fangirl, fannyficlover, goldensilver orbs, ilovetyler1213, Malfoy-Jacky, Lovelylady90, Princess-Rebel, Sora is 1337, sAsMo MaLfOy, fudgesuks, HarryPotterFreakEver, sevengee, darkmistwolf1991, little mimi, BIG fan, Lisa, gyrlfrend, Trojan Horse, malfille, lilnovelist, THE-GIRL-WHO-CRIED-WOLF, and jennykins31. Total cookies to all of you, and I hope dearly I don't get in trouble for recognizing you all. Next, I'd like to recognize my beta, Effluvious, who is the most amazing beta a person could ever ask for! Disclaimer. I disclaim. On to the story!
Chapter ThirteenLast time: Hermione's faint smile disappeared, and her voice faltered as she tried to greet them. "Hi, everyone."
"Why would you do that?" Harry started the conversation with those first tense words. He was disarmingly quiet, but the force behind his voice told a tale of treachery. His arms were still crossed firmly over his chest, and his normally calm emerald eyes held an angry fire. She'd seen it several times, of course, but always aimed at someone else. Never before had she seen Harry turn his anger on her, and for just a moment, she was frightened.
"I'm not sure what you mean…" she started, confused. They all had their secrets; surely they couldn't be that angry with her for keeping her own. She knew for a fact that Ron had never told Harry about that mishap with Cho earlier this year; she was equally sure that Harry hadn't told Ron what he'd been doing in the closet with the youngest Weasley; therefore, they couldn't blame her for taking her time in telling them about her own little secret. Hermione was perfectly fine with defending her position… until an outburst from Ron shattered her control.
"Oh, cut the crap, Hermione!" he called out. His hands had dropped to his sides and were clenching and unclenching in fury, much like the muscles in his jaw. The sight would have been comical if it hadn't been so serious, and any moment she was sure his eye would start twitching uncontrollably. "You know exactly what we're talking about, and don't even try to deny it." Like Harry, his eyes were extremely expressive, distaste and anger easily discernable in their chocolate depths, but unlike with Harry, his voice carried his fury on silken wings, smoothly delivering it to where it would wound the most.
"Stop it, Ronald," Ginny said from her chair. She glared at her older brother, who was snorting like an irritated bull, before continuing. "What Hermione tells you or doesn't tell you is her business alone. She doesn't need you constantly over her shoulder, dictating her every move! If she wanted to shag Malfoy, that's because you obviously weren't doing something right!" The barb flew straight and true, and struck with a near-audible thud. For a second, Hermione almost thought Ron would stagger backwards under the weight of her defender's words, but when he merely towered over his sister, she knew the fight would not be so easily won. It took a moment for the brunette to absorb the fiery young witch's words. When she did, two and two came together in her mind, and she took her boys' stances in an entirely new light. There was no way this amount of anger was the result of her secret-keeping. With her luck, they probably had no idea that she was adopted, which meant they were angry for a whole different reason. They were angry because… oh bugger all. Despite all the logic in her head, she couldn't help herself from thinking that the situation couldn't get worse. Which, of course, it did.
"Go upstairs, Ginny." Harry muttered under his breath, his eyes never leaving Hermione's. "We don't need you here right now, so just… go upstairs."
"Why?" The young witch rose from her comfortable position, turning to her boyfriend. He faced her as well, and Hermione could only watch with a horrified expression as two of her best friends squared off, with the third watching closely nearby. It was like a train wreck; too horrible to watch, but morbid curiosity kept Hermione from looking away. "So you can stand down here and intimidate Hermione properly?" Ginny continued, fisting her hands at her hips. Her posture spoke volumes, but although Harry looked mildly impressed, he wasn't backing down. The redhead scoffed. "I think not! She doesn't need you baboons dogging her every step. She's perfectly capable of living-"
"Go upstairs, Ginny," Ron interrupted. He spoke to her like she was nothing but… well, nothing but an annoying younger sister. He never spoke to her that way, Hermione knew, unless he was hell-bent on destruction, or knew he could win the argument. It was much too dangerous to talk to her that way in any other circumstance. "This doesn't concern you. Let us handle this on our own, and you can complain later… but for now, just go away."
Judging by the look on Ginny's face, Hermione figured it best to divert their attention again, before the young redhead took out her aggression physically. "It's ok, Ginny," she called out quietly, causing her friends' heads to snap in her direction. It was almost as though they forgot she existed. And I'm even the one they're arguing about! "I can handle this myself."
"Are you sure?"
Hermione closed her eyes and took a deep breath. She knew that Ginny was only trying to help, but considering the possible outcomes of this argument, it would have been better if she would have caught the boys alone. She gave her best girlfriend a nod that reeked of faux-courage, and despite the urge to cause her boyfriend and brother eternal torment, Ginny receded. The young witch shot one more malicious glare at Harry and Ron before disappearing behind the door that led to the stone staircase. When she was safely out of earshot, Hermione turned back to the other members of the Trio.
"It never should have happened," she said quietly, eyes filling with tears from the icy glares fixed in her direction. All at once, she felt like giving up. Just let the boys yell and yell until there was no more rage left in them, then sit alone and cry until she had to leave for the holiday break. She could disappear into the new life she'd been given and completely avoid the overprotective friends that she loved as siblings. She could forget that she had ever been anything but Hermione Griswald, and start over new…
But that's not you, is it, Hermione? Hermione Granger, Hermione Griswald, or otherwise; you would never back down from a challenge, especially from these two. The voice in her head was starting to sound suspiciously like Malfoy, but what it was saying was true.
"Damn right, it shouldn't have!" Ron shouted, throwing his arms in the air, not caring in the slightest when the brunette skittered backwards.
Swallowing painfully, and wary of the growing rage in Harry's eyes (and Ron's flailing limbs), Hermione blinked back the tears and continued. "I know it shouldn't have happened, but I was…" she paused, and marveled at the stupidity of her next statement, "I was in the middle of a crisis and wasn't thinking properly." In retrospect, she realized how ridiculous her actions had been, how careless and dangerous. She knew that in stressful times, people didn't make sane decisions, but she couldn't help but wonder she had made that one.
"Like that even matters!" Ron exploded, finally allowing his anger to take over. Harry only looked on in a disproving air while Ron ranted at her, seemingly not even pausing to take in air. "I don't care what you're going through, the Hermione we know would never even think about Malfoy that way. The Hermione we know would sooner hex him than look at him! The Hermione we know hates Malfoy with a passion; I didn't think our Hermione was capable of … of… sleeping with him!"
They don't know that I'm not the Hermione they thought they knew. They don't know… "Look, I'm not entirely sure you have the whole story," she started, crossing the common room to sit on one of the comfortably plump couches. Harry and Ron followed her with their eyes, but made no attempt to join her, accentuating their anger by the use of physical boundaries. "I'm not sure who told you, but they didn't tell you everything. Remember the potion we were researching the other day?" The boys nodded wearily. "Well, that's what Dumbledore wanted to talk to me about. Apparently…" She closed her eyes and took a deep breath, preparing herself for a worst-case scenario, "Apparently, I'm adopted. I'm the only daughter of a very prestigious pureblood family."
She expected shock. She expected confusion. She even expected a screaming rage. What she did not expect was the complete indifference that shone from her friends' faces. They stared at her in stony silence, and she felt her resolve weakening.
"That makes it ok to betray five years of friendship and sleep with the son of a known Death Eater?" Harry asked flatly. He still hadn't moved from his intimidating stance, and stood over Hermione like a sentinel. She cringed unconsciously.
"I was confused, disoriented, and wanted to do something to make myself feel… like the new person I had just been told I was," she tried to explain, wondering why it seemed like the lamest excuse ever. "I wanted to do something as Hermione Griswald that Hermione Granger would never have done; I wanted someone to help me escape from reality," she confessed, glancing down in her lap at her clasped hands. "So I… slept with Malfoy."
"We heard from David," Harry finally said after a long moment of silence. "You couldn't even tell us; we had to hear from some Slytherin. Granted, he didn't have the whole story, but the why doesn't matter nearly as much as the whom, Hermione. If you needed help, you should have come to us. To your friends. We would have understood." He turned, but instead of crossing to her, he went to the window, staring out into the cold darkness. Ron wasn't even looking at her anymore. He, too, was finding anything even remotely interesting to take his attention away from her, and it hurt her to the core.
"Instead of coming to us, though…" The redhead muttered. His voice sounded strained, as though it were taking all the energy he had to say these words. "Instead of coming to us, you went to Malfoy. Of all people, you went to some bloody Slytherin. And not just any Slytherin! NO, you fall right into the arms of the slimiest, scaliest one of them all." It was all she could do to nod in shame; the pain on Harry's face was phenomenal, but nothing compared to the anguish that showed bright and clear on Ron's. She wished she could say something, anything, to smooth the ripples she had caused, but there was nothing to say. Harry was at a loss for words himself. With nothing more than a whispered goodnight to his best friend, he left the room, not even glancing in Hermione's direction.
"Ron?" She murmured quietly, gazing at him through watery eyes. He turned to her and their gazes locked.
"Why Malfoy, Hermione? Why not me? Or Harry? Or, bloody hell, even Neville! We're your friends, and I don't care what kind of problems you're having. I don't care what kind of trouble you're in, or what you may think I'll say. I love you, and I would have been there for you."
Hold the phone. Hermione had always known that Ron harbored some kind of affection for her; it was brutally apparent in their fourth year when she dated Victor Krum for a time, and it was the root of their dating possibility… but love? How could he possibly love her? He was barely of age; she wouldn't even cross that threshold for another month, and he already thought he was in love with her?
Her thoughts must have shown on her face, because Ron continued with a weary smile. "I know I've never said it before, and now that I have, I won't say it again, at least for a while. Just the kind of person that I am." He took a small step in her direction, raising his hand as though to caress her cheek before stopping himself. "But it's true. I love you, Hermione Granger, and I wish I would have told you before. Maybe then you wouldn't have seen fit to go running to the rodent for comfort."
She had stopped listening when he said her name. 'I love you, Hermione Granger', he had said. Wasn't it odd, and just a little ironic, that she wasn't Hermione Granger anymore? "What about now, Ron?" She asked quietly, turning his declaration over and over in her head. "I'm neck deep in trouble now." Her voice was a whisper; she couldn't trust herself to speak any louder than that. "Are you still with me?"
"Now?" Swallowing thickly, Ron made his way to the door leading to the boys' dormitory. "Now, I need to think. Goodnight, Hermione." He disappeared into the shadows, and one by one, the lights in the common room flickered out. Defeated, Hermione sank into the couch and cried until the fire was no more than a pile of smoldering ashes.
When there were no tears left for her to cry, she wearily climbed the stairs to her dorm, where a shock of Arithmancy notes waited prettily on her bed. Pleased that Hannah had remembered her earlier request, and relieved to have something to take her mind of her worries, the Gryffindor reached for the note attached.
Hermione;
I know you said you'd retrieve the notes from Ms. Abbot, but when she was called out of class (through no fault of my own, I assure you), I thought you might still need them. Please owl them back to me when you have the information you need.
Disgusted, Hermione threw the note down on the bed, and glared at the stack of parchment, but she couldn't help her eyes straying to the regal signature on the bottom of the letter. Sincerely and without regret, Draco Black Malfoy.
"I'm going to kill him, Harry."
"Don't pay any attention to him. Focus on your meal. We have a match in an hour, and you need to eat."
"But look at him! He's just sitting there without a care in the world!"
Harry and Ron were sitting side by side at the breakfast table, arguing under their breath about Malfoy's execution and preparing for their upcoming Quidditch match against Ravenclaw. Despite the popular consensus of Gryffindor's superiority, Harry was nervous, and Ron's constant natter about sodding Draco Malfoy was hindering his concentration.
"I'm telling you, someone's got to put him in his place!" Ron was complaining, glaring at the blond over his plate of syrupy waffles. Harry glanced over as well, and shook his head. The Slytherin sat facing the Gryffindor table, stone-faced and silent, only making a passing attempt to glare at Harry when he realized he was being watched. He simply wasn't worth the time and energy to worry about, not yet.
"I think you should let it go, Ron. You know Hermione won't make that mistake again, and there's nothing we can do about him now anyway. Not before the match. Think of the match, Ron. Focus on the match." Hypnosis probably wasn't the best way to go, but it was the only way he could think of at the moment. His energies were split between keeping a leash on his best mate and preparing his team's pep talk. Although being Quidditch captain had its perks, it definitely took a lot of time that wasn't already devoted to homework. Blocking out his teammate's prattle, Harry turned to gaze down the table at the empty spot that should have been Hermione's. He hadn't seen her this morning in the common room, and despite the fresh anger and betrayal, he was worried. With his luck, the confrontation last night had probably driven her right back into the arms of the same blond bastard that Ron was harping on about.
Ginny slid in beside him, and he smiled suggestively over at her, but was dismayed when she didn't even glance in his direction. "What's wrong, Gin?"
"Oh, couldn't you hazard a guess?" She replied harshly, pouring a small glass of orange juice before slamming the container back down onto the oak table. He turned as far as the matching oak bench would allow in her direction, and grasped one of her hands with his own.
"Tell me what's wrong, Ginny."
"Don't take that tone of voice with me, Potter," she growled menacingly, jerking her hand away. He stared at her in shock as she continued, wincing as her voice rose with every word. "Do you actually think that, after last night's display of childish posturing, I'll simply allow you to go on as if nothing happened?"
The young redhead's voice was now alarmingly loud, and students within hearing distance peered over curiously, watching the Golden Couple's conflict with interest. "I don't understand, Gin," he whispered, trying not to look around at the eyes that stared on, "Last night had nothing to do with you!"
"Not at all, eh?" Ginny bit back a bout of spiteful laughter. "No, it was all about control, wasn't it?" She stood from her spot, and despite the goggling eyes of onlookers, rounded on her boyfriend. "Hermione acted in a way you couldn't control, and you went off the deep end. Then I stepped in, and you had to control my actions, didn't you?" The small girl had puffed up; despite her height disadvantage, she looked as though she'd grown three feet in the past two minutes. Harry gulped. "What was it you said, Harry Potter? 'Go upstairs, Ginny, this doesn't concern you'? Well, it most certainly concerns me now, doesn't it, Potter?"
As Ginny went on, the raven-haired boy directly n the line of fire felt himself shrinking. By the time she had reached his surname, he felt all of about two inches tall. His mouth went completely dry as his girlfriend, the most wonderful part of his life, turned and began to walk away. Before he realized what he was doing, his hand shot out and gripped her arm: "Wait."
Cold brown eyes locked on to his saddened emerald ones, and for a minute, he allowed himself a small sigh of relief; then, she spoke. "I'll see you on the pitch, Captain." With that, Ginny wrested her arm free of Harry's grip, and left the Great Hall amidst a round of cheers.
Defeated, The-Boy-Who-Finally-Met-His-Match sat back in his place at the table, and hit his head three times on the hard tabletop.
"Sometimes I pity you, mate." Ron whispered, Malfoy forced from his mind by his sister's fireworks. Harry only nodded.