Ugly
Happiness
Part II
The world is bright and full of splendor. The sun shines so intense that everything is transformed; long shadows are cast across seas of swaying greens and gleaming golds. Wind, warm and full of scent, rustles through the dry leaves and gently shakes the wind chimes outside Hermione's kitchen window.
She pushed the window open; the tinkling chimes echo the haunting time bomb of the old grandfather clock in the hallway. Closing her eyes, Hermione let the warm evening air brush her face, sweeping her hair back and gently erasing the worry lines away.
"You are beautiful."
Hermione smiled, knowing he couldn't see her face. "How do you know that?"
Draco wrapped his arms around her waist, resting his head on her shoulder. "Because I see the real you." He whispered, hugging her close. "Because I love you."
Hermione brushed her hand across his and he caught it—entwining their fingers. Her other hand fingered the locket around her neck, a single tear running down her cheek. "I love you, too."
Ron could hear the phone ringing in the background of his mind.
He didn't care.
What did he have left to care about?
You were supposed to be there for those who needed you—and for those who didn't.
He'd failed.
He'd always been looking elsewhere.
Instead of being there for Hermione…
He'd been concerned with making money.
Instead of being there for Hermione…
He'd been selfishly in love.
The phone stopped ringing.
Ron thanked whatever higher power was in control of his life—then he cursed it.
Why?
Why?
There was no reason for the madness of life.
There was no reason for all the hurt that went on.
No wonder Hermione chose death, Ron mused. A sickened smile crossed his slackened face.
Comfort found only in death.
He was pathetic. Hermione hadn't been suicidal.
"Now I sound like Harry." Ron felt hatred fill the empty pit that was his heart. He let it consume him. He let it eat him…eat him whole.
"Ron!"
Ron looked up from the stack of paperwork, his quill poised. "Hermione." Ron stood, walking over to give his friend a hug. "Isn't this a pleasant surprise? You haven't visited me in ages, what is the special occasion?" He released her, stepping back.
She looked…Ron couldn't define it. She was still skinny, still wearing that old green coat, her hair was still pulled back into a no-nonsense bun.
No—the change wasn't in Hermione's body.
It was her eyes, her face, and her smile. She looked, Ron realized, happy. It was then that he realized she hadn't looked that way in a long, long time.
Hermione grinned, her eyes bright and youthful. "I was just passing by and I thought why not? And…" Hermione observed the poorly lit office and cluttered desk. "I thought you could use a break."
"You got that right." Ron nodded. "Would you like to go out for coffee—tea?" he corrected remembering Hermione's preference for tea after her morning cup of coffee.
"Yes, thank you."
"Let me grab my coat."
The café was crowded, snug and warm. Ron and Hermione fought their way over to one of the last tables.
"Burr. It's getting chilly." Hermione commented.
Ron nodded. "That it is. That it is." He pulled off his gloves. "So…Hermione…what have you been up to lately. I hardly see you."
Hermione's smile faded. "I've just been bogged down with work is all."
Ron raised an eyebrow. "You sure work is all that's consuming your time?" he asked.
Hermione laughed. "You've always been the joker, Ron."
"Hey, what can I say, Fred and George rubbed off on me."
"Not too much, though."
"Thank Merlin for small favors."
They both laughed.
"But seriously, Hermione—don't you think it's time to maybe get yourself a man?"
Hermione stared at him for a moment. "Oh…well…"
Ron watched as a deep blush crossed over Hermione's ivory face.
"I knew it."
"Knew what?"
"Okay, so I didn't know. But, Hermione, if you got someone…" He waited.
Hermione finally looked up. "I do have someone."
Ron nodded. "I just wonder why you don't tell me, or Harry, or even Ginny. Cause I think we'd all know if you'd told Ginny."
"Yeah." Hermione shook her head. "You'd know if I'd said something to Ginny."
"So?" Ron prompted.
Hermione bit her lip. "I…I don't know if you or Harry…would." She rolled her eyes. "Approve of him."
Ron frowned. "He doesn't…mistreat you, does he?"
"No! No. Oh, don't even say that. He's not like that. He's sweet and kind, and he…he's not exactly what I had in mind—but I think I love him."
Ron smiled; reaching across the table he took Hermione's hand, patting it gently. "I'm happy for you. And, I don't know why you want to keep this relationship secret but, you are all grown up, Hermione." Hermione grinned. "And Harry and I, we're your friends, we can't tell you what to do…much to our disappointment, but we'll back you up. You know that right?"
"Thanks, Ron." Hermione let out her breath. "Thanks a lot."
"Ready to order?" The waitress had finally worked her way over to their table.
"Tea, please." They said in unison, looking at each other they smiled those big silly smiles and laughed.
"We've checked two shops already…Harry, can't we just call it a day?" Ginny yawned.
Harry sighed. "Fine." He turned around and got back into the car. "I'll just take you home."
Now it was Ginny who sighed.
"You know I like you, Harry. Why…why don't you like me back?"
Harry slowed the car. "I want to know why you have this fixation on me, I have never given you any indication that I was even the slightest bit interested in you."
Ginny flushed with anger. "Damn it, you saved my life, you even kissed me, but you were too slobbering drunk to remember that!"
"Wow! One mistake on my part…or rather two, and you have this nagging need to hang all over me and make Hermione's life miserable because you thought I gave her more attention than you—or maybe you thought you deserved more, who knows? But you want to know something? Hermione was my friend, my best friend. She never tried to deceive people—like you do. She never hurt people—like you do. She was nothing like you and you want to know something else? I have never even thought of you as a friend. You're Ron's little sister. And Ginny, that's all you'll ever be."
"I told you I was sorry! I can't undo the past, Harry! I can't!"
"You have never tried to be good to anyone. You've always been selfish—I can't like someone who's so centered on something that she hurts everyone who gets in her way."
Ginny turned, releasing the seatbelt so that she could twist her body to face Harry. "You never gave me a chance! As you said, I'm just Ron's little sister! You might have liked me if you'd taken your head out of your ass and looked around!"
Harry shook his head. "You don't get it. You never get it! Things like this are not one sided! Just because you like me doesn't mean I have to do anything." He turned to her. "Get this straight, I will never like you."
Ginny couldn't see through the rage of her tears, but she lashed out, striking Harry.
He jerked the wheel, sliding across the road.
Ginny screamed as the headlights blinded her. Then there was nothing.
"Do you remember the ball?" Draco asked as he rubbed Hermione's arm, they were sitting in his own little piece of the world. Or not so little.
"You mean, that pathetic excuse of a dance." Hermione corrected.
"Oh come on, I told you that most purebloods have a stick up their ass."
"Most?"
"Okay, all, present company included."
Hermione laughed, snuggling up beside Draco. "Not all the time…but most of the time."
Draco grinned. "You come into my house and you insult me…didn't your mother teach you any manners?"
Hermione shrugged. "Would you be willing to update my lessons?"
Draco shook his head. "That wouldn't be you. So, no."
Hermione smiled. "Good. I don't like acting like…something else."
"I like you just the way you are."
Hermione sighed. "At least someone does." She closed her eyes as sleep tugged at her conscious.
Draco ran his hand over her hair, moving so that she could lean comfortably against him. "Sleep." He murmured as she tried to sit up.
He saw a small smile play across her lips before she fell asleep. Draco leaned back; he couldn't imagine a time in his life when he'd felt so complete.
He ran his fingers over the locket around Hermione's neck, and touched the one around his own…maybe it had been a mistake.
Ron was out of bed for the first time in a week, he showered and dressed and answered that damn ringing phone.
"Hello?"
"Mr. Ronald Weasley?"
"Speaking."
"I am calling from Delmont hospital. Mr. Weasley, we have a Mr. Harry Potter and a Ms. Ginny Weasley who have been admitted, you are listed as a person to contact in an emergency, is this true?"
Ron gripped the phone tightly. "Yes. What's happened?"
"There was an auto accident. Mr. Potter and Ms. Weasley have been admitted to the hospital."
"What?"
"Sir, we need you to come down to the hospital and fill out papers for the patients."
Ron shook his head. "No, no, no. How did this happen?"
"I don't know the answer to that, sir, but if you come down to the hospital, the officers may be able to answer your questions."
"I'll be right there."
Ron entered the hospital through swinging doors, they closed with a thump behind him. Walking up the receptionist he enquired as to the whereabouts of his friend and sister.
"Third floor."
The elevator was old and creaky, Ron's heart raced as he neared the third floor. This couldn't be happening.
The doors opened and he rushed out.
"Sir, may I help you?"
"I—I need to know what happened to them!" Ron tried to keep his breathing under control. "They—they were in an accident."
The nurse pointed to a police officer down the hall. "He might be able to answer your questions."
Ron mumbled a thank you and hurried down the hallway.
"Mr. Weasley?" The officer asked.
"Yes. What happened, are they okay? My sister, is she okay?"
The policeman waited for Ron to quiet. "Your sister, Ms. Weasley, will be fine. It's the other one, a Mr. Potter, who—" the officer looked away. "He took the worst of it."
Ron shook his head, blinking. "How…how did this happen?"
The officer looked behind him where Ginny Weasley was laying, her eyes open but unseeing. "It seems that there was a fight and your sister, we believe that she is the cause of the accident."
Ron took a deep breath. "Can I talk to her?"
The officer shook his head. "She hasn't been lucid. We've sent for the hospital psychiatrist."
"And…and Harry?"
"He's still in surgery."
Ron dropped down into one of the chairs that lined the wall and stared at the ground.
That was all he could do.
Lucius lifted the envelope off his desk, weighing it in his hands. His son did nothing but lie, deceive. He tossed the envelope into the fire. The flames licked it, cleaning it of deceit and burning away the lies.
Ignorance, Lucius decided was preferable, but truth would be sought through other channels—and it would be the truth as Lucius Malfoy saw it.