TWATW-Chapter 29-Tides of Anger and Sorrow
By Marmalade Fever
Mrs. Weasley led her up the stairs and into her bedroom, sat her down on the bed and looked straight at her. "Are you all right, dear?" she asked. Between wet gasps for air, Hermione shook her head. Ginny sat on her other side, holding her hand. Tonks sat down on Ginny's bed across from them, looking interested. "Whenever you're ready, dear," Mrs. Weasley said, rubbing small circles into her back.
Hermione blew her nose and wiped angrily at her eyes. "That absolute git," she fumed. Mrs. Weasley nodded in agreement, temporarily putting aside the fact that they were talking about her youngest son.
"He shouldn't have done that," Ginny said regretfully.
"No, he shouldn't," Mrs. Weasley agreed. "But I'm curious, dear, what exactly did he say?"
Hermione sniffled. "He... he asked me to marry him," she said, staring dismally down at her sodden handkerchief.
Ginny groaned. "Did he really? That oaf."
"And when I said I couldn't, he wanted to know why, and... you know." She took a deep, shuddering breath.
"So it's true?" Tonks asked. "You're engaged to my little cousin?"
Hermione nodded, stood, and approached one of her suitcases. She opened it up, reached into a pocket and pulled out her ring. She slipped it onto her finger and sat down. The three other women looked at it in slight jealousy. Mrs. Weasley's ring was nice but very simple. The same went for Tonks' ring.
"It must be nice to be with someone who sweats galleons," Ginny mused glumly.
Hermione shrugged. "He doesn't exactly have free access to his vaults, you know. Not with the whole fake death thing."
"I guess not," Ginny agreed. "Did Ron have a ring?"
Hermione shook her head. "He barely even had a proposal. Granted, neither did Draco, but at least he was nice about it and had the excellent excuse of Ron and Harry showing up at a very inopportune moment." She sniffed.
"You know," Mrs. Weasley said carefully, "I think you might have been a little unfair to Ron. You probably should have told him the truth earlier."
Hermione sighed. "I know, but... I just didn't want this to happen. And besides, he really should have told me how he felt last year, before he started going out with that trollop." She shook her head. "I shouldn't call her that..." she muttered.
"You could have told him instead, Hermione," Ginny suggested, before wilting under Hermione's stare.
"Anyway, it's over between us. I don't know if we can even still be friends now..." Her voice died. "I don't know if I can even still be friends with Harry."
Mrs. Weasley shook her head. "Harry will understand, dear." Hermione shot her a doubtful look. "In due time, of course. Surely by the time the baby comes."
"And I think I might know something that will cheer you up," Ginny said brightly.
"And what might that be?" Hermione asked.
"I know where there's a payphone a couple blocks from here," she said, grinning. "You can call that blond fiancée of yours."
A small smile crept onto Hermione's face before she frowned. "Do you think it would be okay if I went out?" she asked. She had not stepped out of Grimmauld the entire time she'd been there. It was just too dangerous.
"So long as I go with you," Tonks said. She scrunched up her face, and her hair turned a brilliant magenta while her nose narrowed. "And we can disguise you somehow," she added, her voice now much more nasally.
"Yeah!" Ginny said. "Put on this scarf." She rummaged through a pile of Hermione's things and retrieved the yellow scarf that Fidget had given her. "And you can wear my big green hat, too."
Hermione, now feeling slightly lighter than she had a few minutes previous, dressed accordingly, adding a pair of sunglasses to her outfit as well. "You look a tad ridiculous, but I like it," Ginny said amusedly.
"Take some change, dear," Mrs. Weasley said, scrounging in her pocket for a few spare pence. "Off you go."
Hermione thanked them and left her bedroom with Tonks, her tears nearly dry. As they went down the stairs, Hermione made out the distinct sound of several Weasley men lecturing Ron.
"You've got to be suave, Ronnikins," one of the twins was saying.
"Yeah, trollish usually just doesn't do the trick," the other said.
"Oh, shut up, Fred!" Ron huffed.
Hermione froze as they entered the living room, trying her best not to make eye-contact with any of them. Lucky for her Ron was doing the same, staring determinedly down at his feet.
"It's all right, Hermione, we're sorting this oaf out," George said.
"But honestly, that git Malfoy?" Fred asked. "You sure you wouldn't rather go for someone a might bit goofier, like Ron here?"
Hermione didn't answer, but sort of half-shrugged. She and Tonks were just about to the hallway when Harry called out to them. "Where are you going?"
Hermione froze with her back to them, the hairs on the back of her neck standing. "To make a phone call," she said.
"To who?"
"Whom," she corrected automatically. "To Draco," she added in half a whisper. Quite suddenly the tears were back, all because she knew just how disappointed everyone must be.
"Come on," Tonks said, and led her out the door. They walked down several blocks without seeing anyone. From one of the neighboring houses they could distinctly hear someone belting out Jingle Bells. At a corner, they came to a spot where there was a telephone booth as well as a bus stop bench. Tonks sat down guardedly as Hermione slid coins into the slot. She dialed her home number, or rather Samantha and Derek Jones' number, and waited. The phone rang five times before their answering machine picked up. "You've reached Derek and Samantha Jones," her own voice said. "We're either too lazy or too busy to answer right now. If you leave your name and number, we'll get back to you soon. Cheerio!" Hermione cleared her throat. "Hi Derek," she said. "This is Sam. I just... I just wanted to call and tell you happy Christmas. The baby's fine and everything. Well, except for one thing. I'll tell you about that later. I... we miss you. I hope you're doing well." She paused. "If you're there, please pick up." She waited a few seconds. "But I guess you're not. Listen, take care of that spritelike friend of ours, okay? I, I guess I'll hang up now... I love you," she added, before hanging up downheartedly.
"Not at home?" Tonks asked, looking as if she had been trying not to listen in.
"No," Hermione confirmed. "No, he wasn't." Tonks wrapped a supportive arm around Hermione's shoulder as they walked back.
"You know," Tonks said, as they trekked along. "I may not be a complete master when it comes to love, but I did manage to reel in my catch. And I think that the hardest part is getting him to admit to loving you. So you see, the hardest part is already over for you, you know?"
Hermione didn't say anything for a moment. Both Draco and Ron had now told her they loved her. Both of them had even proposed. So why did she feel so alone? She wrapped Fidget's scarf tighter around her neck. It never seemed to make her feel any warmer.
0
Draco, with little better to do, had gone out and driven to the coffee shop. He hadn't really expected it to be open, but going somewhere was better than staying shut up at home. How that house had transformed into a home over the last five months was beyond him. But it had felt a little too large lately. A little too lonely. It amazed him that he had ever spent any large amount of time alone at the manor, it being at least forty times larger.
Alas, the coffee shop really wasn't open at all, so he settled for wandering the streets a bit. Presently, he heard the sound of voices and realized that there was a pub down the street doing business. He hadn't had a drink in what felt like ages. Maybe he could get some eggnog, not that he'd ever liked the stuff. It was too sweet and too... pleasant. It sort of made him feel like a hufflepuff.
He went in, wondering faintly why anyone would volunteer to work on a holiday. After his newfound experience with working, he thought that he would gladly take any day off that he could. (And he had certainly never done homework on Christmas.)
At the bar sat four men, each looking distinctly tipsy, even though it was only about eleven in the morning. The woman running the business looked a bit forlorn as she surveyed her customers. "What kin I get ya, love?" she asked in a thick accent.
"Rum," Draco answered, sitting down as far from the drunken muggle men as he could. Truly, the last time he'd been in a pub had been six months back when he had run into Hermione Granger. The memory sent a tingle down his spine. What if he allowed some strange, or not so strange, girl to drag him away and force him to join some sort of program again?
"That I 'ave," she answered, getting a clean glass and filling it for him. She pushed it to him, gave a glance to her other customers and turned back to him. "So whot's yer story?" she asked, looking like she wanted desperately to talk to someone who wasn't drunk yet.
"What do you mean?" Draco asked, swirling his drink.
"Anywun whot comes intuh a place like this on Christmas Day's gotta story."
"Well, maybe I don't celebrate," he suggested.
"Yer wearin' green 'n' red, lad," she pointed out. "That's a sure sign if ever I saw wun."
Draco looked down. He hadn't even realized which shirt he had put on before leaving, but sure enough it was green with red stripes. He had never given it much thought, but Gryffindor and Slytherin colors together were very Christmasy. He sniffed his drink. "Do you always badger your paying customers like this?"
"Oh, come on, Love. Jus' answer the question." She grinned. "I'll give yer a piece of red velvet cake," she offered.
Draco sighed. "My wife's out of town," he answered with finality.
"Oh, wun of 'em," she said, nodding. "Just like Ern over there," she said, pointing to a particularly tipsy looking individual. She lowered her voice. "'Cept he only thinks he's gotta wife," she added.
Draco gave "Ern" a slightly disgusted look. "How sane," he said sarcastically.
"Not sane at all," the barkeep said, frowning. She shuffled off and brought back a piece of bright red cake with white icing. "Here, now you eat that, Love. 'Nough chocolate 'n' red dye to make anywun cheery."
Draco nibbled at his cake for a while in peace as the woman switched the television station. Suddenly he felt just as he had six months prior, only this time he was completely sober. Although he had his rum right in front of him, he felt no urge to drink any. There was really only one thing he truly wanted, and he didn't know when he'd be able to have her back.
A.N.: I am absolutely astounded by the number of reviews I got last chapter. Eighty? I mean, really? Yikes! Thank you for the birthday wishes everyone. I greatly appreciate it. Have a wonderful day. (Oh, and no. That's not Knight Bus Ern, just in case anyone's wondering. I just liked the name.)
