A/N - Hello my pretties, long time no update :) Feel free to skip this, it might be a rather long a/n
First - thank you to watsonfordramione for reviewing every chapter of the fic in such quick succession. You reminded me why I love to write, and inspired me to hammer out this chapter and get back in the fanfic game.
Second - I'm hoping to update this fic more regularly. I'm hoping for monthly, though it might be more regular. I'm going to say for now: LB will be updated the third week of every month. I have a second fic I'm working on, Project Narcissist which I'm hoping to update the first week of every month. You never know, I may surprise you now and update more often now I feel inspired again.
That's it for now. Please give a look to Project Narcissist, it's fairly new, only three chapters, but I'm hoping to start increasing the updates soon. And if you could spare a minute, I'd love if you could review this chapter. It's long because I got inspired and couldn't stop going, so let me know. It sees the return of someone I think you all thought I forgot about, but I hadn't.
I've missed you guys.
Hermione found it amazing that one week in Hogwarts could feel so long, and that so much could happen in a mere seven days.
Seven days… was that all it had been since Draco had kissed her in the library, and since she had run from him?
She'd always prided herself on being a strong resilient person, but never in her life had she felt as close to breaking as now.
Hogwarts didn't even feel like home anymore. It was hostile and cold since she'd been attacked, and was colder now that she'd fought with Ginny and had lost Theo, and most of all since she'd pushed Draco away. To top it all, it seemed that fear was driving everyone in the castle crazy – after a small skirmish in the corridor with a Slytherin over his relationship, Dean had been badly jinxed and sent to the hospital wing, and had consequently dropped out of school. The sad part was that he was one of many over the past few days, and as the student body shrunk, so did any remaining positivity and warmth in the castle.
Happiness nowadays was virtually nonexistent, while ever present fear clutched tighter at the hearts of everyone by the day.
Going out of her way to avoid Draco was now something Hermione was becoming increasingly more proficient at doing. It had the unfortunate consequence however of completely isolating her and dominating her life; she was operating on a strict schedule designed to keep her wherever he wasn't, and it meant that almost all of her free time was spent locked in her bedroom. She'd even rescheduled tutoring her half of the students so she wouldn't have to see him in the library. Oddly enough, he wasn't hounding her anymore. In fact, some nights he hadn't even bothered coming back to their common room, and Hermione assumed he was sleeping down in the dungeons instead.
Naturally, she still caught glimpses of him, and they were enough to make her feel like she'd been kicked in the ribs every time. But she always retained her composure, and hid her pain behind a mask of indifference, a blank face and empty eyes.
On the eighth day since the kiss, something very odd happened. Ginny came and sat down next to her at breakfast and without bothering to greet her, looked her dead in the eyes and said "I'm sorry."
Hermione, startled by her presence and completely stuck dumb by her blunt apology, couldn't do anything but nod.
Ginny nodded too. "I am. You were right… I've been a bitch lately. I'm… I'm just a bit lost, and really angry," she said, her voice wavering slightly. "Ever since the start of the year all I've felt is this rage that never goes away, because I've lost my brother and my boyfriend to this whole stupid situation, and I don't know if I'll ever see them again. Things that shouldn't make me angry just trigger it and I can't help it, but I shouldn't have been taking it out on you."
Hermione felt a tiny glimmer of happiness ignite in the pit of her stomach. She understood. She didn't exactly get angry herself, but she did get severely depressed, and that consumed her. Everyone was either sad or mad, and that was just that way it was.
"Thank you, Ginny. It means a lot."
And when Ginny leaned across the small space between them and hugged her, Hermione felt momentarily calm. She'd forgotten what it was like to receive affection, platonic or otherwise. She felt starved, and so she clung on to Ginny for a long time, and when she finally let go, she'd made a few decisions.
She went back to her common room after lessons and took a long bath. It was almost as though she was trying to drown herself. She slipped under the water, into the cavernous expanse of the obscenely huge bathtub, blocking out all the sounds. She closed her eyes and embraced the darkness, almost becoming numb from the pressure of holding her breath for so long…
She stayed under as long as she could, relishing the nothingness, such a contrast from her life outside this room. And then just when she thought she might die- slip off peacefully in her underwater tomb- and her lungs began to scream in protest and the pressure on her ribs grew to vast levels, her survival instinct brought her up to the surface, gasping for air and drinking it in greedily. It was sad now that her one sanctuary, the one place that she could escape from the world, was the bath. Under the water, there was nothing. Not Draco, not their complicated relationship, not Voldemort, not a war. Only silence. And peace.
And then she got dressed, tied up her hair, and walked out into the grounds towards Hagrid's cabin.
When he opened the door at the sound of her knocking, he looked shocked and then upset.
"Finally decided ter visit me, have yeh? I'm flattered. C'mon, get in," he said gruffly, holding open the door.
Hermione guiltily sat down at the table, and Hagrid started making tea, as was his usual routine for guests. But he didn't speak, and Hermione suddenly felt awful. She'd been so caught up in her own life, she had abandoned her friend, her confidant, and it was inexcusable.
"Hagrid… I don't even know how to start apologising," she said quietly.
Hagrid said nothing.
"I'm so sorry for being so rude. I haven't come to see you for so long, and I haven't written you any notes or anything… and I'm very ashamed that I let my own problems consume me. I…"
Her voice caught, and seconds later as she began crying, she felt herself being gathered up by hands like dustbin lids and scooped into the chest of the half-giant.
"There now," Hagrid kept muttering as she cried, and after a few minutes she'd calmed down enough to be released.
"Shouldn'ta made yeh feel so bad, tha' was wrong o' me. I jus worry abou' yeh. How are yeh holdin' up?" he asked as he poured tea, his beetle black eyes wrinkling around the edges with concern.
"I've been better," she replied lamely.
"I'm not surprised. There's bin a lot goin' on with yeh lately. Firs' yeh were attacked, yeh broke up with yeh boyfriend, an' there's a reason why yeh haven't bin ter see me, I'll bet."
Hermione sighed. "I'm in a very bad situation, Hagrid."
"What's goin' on?"
"Do you know Draco Malfoy?"
Hagrid frowned. "Lucius' boy? Who said Buckbeak attacked him? What abou' him?"
Hermione looked at the floor. She needed to talk about this, but how on Earth was she going to start?
"I… We…"
"Has he hurt yeh?"
Not physically… well, at least not lately. "No, no," Hermione replied. "I just… over the past few months, there's… well, it's hard to explain-"
"Yeh like him," Hagrid answered for her.
Hermione blinked, staring at Hagrid curiously as her cheeks began to burn. "Yes," she whispered.
Nodding sagely, Hagrid patted her hand. "I'm not goin' ter pretend tha' I approve. He's bin nothin' but trouble fer the three o' yeh since yer firs' day. But yeh can't help who yeh fall fer, even if yeh try ter tell yerself yeh know better."
It was hardly the reaction she'd expected from him, but he seemed to have a wistful look in his eyes and Hermione was certain he was thinking about Madam Maxime.
"I see why it migh' be a bit complicated fer yeh," he continued. "Does he like yeh too?"
Hermione hesitated. "Sometimes, I think so. Other times, I have no idea. It doesn't matter, not really. We were sort of together for a little while. But I ended it. It's impossible, Hagrid. It just can't work. Harry and Ron and Ginny will all hate the idea, and probably hate me too. Nobody will approve, and his parents will shun him and I don't think he can cope with that. Plus, there's a war going on, and we're on two different sides. It's doomed, and I know that… but I can't stop thinking about him," she confessed, unable to meet her friend's eye.
They were silent for a little while, and Hagrid seemed to be struggling to think of a suitable response.
"Yer problem is," he said after a while, "tha' yer so worried abou' wha' everyone else thinks. 'S not easy, I'm not sayin' tha' it is, but if yeh both want something to happen, then yer goin' ter have ter ignore it. People can be nasty, an' I know better than any o' yeh. They judge yeh, and if yer like me yeh nearly resign because yer so worried o' what people think. But yeh can't let 'em make yeh do stuff that makes yer life worse. If yer happy with Malfoy, then yeh gotta forget everyone else."
Hermione didn't think she'd ever heard Hagrid say anything as wise in her life. She was so grateful for his support, and felt doubly guilty for not visiting him in so long when he so clearly cared about her. She lay her tiny hand on top of his shovel side on and squeezed it gently. She didn't know whether she would take Hagrid's advice – Draco had hurt her, with words, with his hands… but he'd also cared for her, like when she was in the hospital. This was too big of a decision for her to make right now, because it would mean such a lifestyle change for them both... but Hagrid had helped her gain a little clarity.
They talked for a while about day to day things, like Grawp and the cabbages Hagrid was growing, and Hermione's lessons, both of them carefully steering the topic away from the war and the Order for the most part – or at least until Hermione remembered a question that had been burrowed in the back of her mind for a long time now.
She tugged on the corner of her sleeve and began picking at the crumbs of a slice of (surprisingly edible) fruit cake on a plate in front of her, and cleared her throat after a minute of comfortable quiet.
"Hagrid," she ventured tentatively. "Is…. Is Dumbledore alright?"
Hagrid's bushy head shot up from where he was making yet more tea. "What d'yeh mean?" he asked gruffly.
"He just never seems to be around anymore. I don't see him a lot."
Hagrid sighed. "He's… he's carryin' on. He's in demand a lot though. The Ministry still want him, the Order need him and o' course he has the school ter look after. It's a lot fer him ter manage, that's all."
Hermione nodded. "He never struck me as old before this year, you know? He seems to have aged a lot in a short space of time."
"I know what yeh mean, Hermione."
"It's kind of sad," she finished softly, sipping her tea.
"Yeah, it is," Hagrid agreed.
Hush descended in the cabin.
Hermione left not long after, slightly rattled by the final topic of discussion.
When she got back to her common room there was no sign of Draco – no crack of light under his door, no cloak on the hook by the door, none of his books on his desk – and after her conversation with Hagrid, Hermione decided to chance it, and sit out in the common room and read for a little while, to escape the prison of her room.
A little while later, when she was three chapters deep in a wizarding horror novel, she heard a light tapping, scratching sound that caught her attention. At first, she thought it might have been the fire crackling, but when she extinguished the fire it continued, so she relit it, put her book down, and listened intently. It seemed to be coming from the window, and Hermione thought perhaps it was tree branch brushing against it, before realising no trees grew that close to their common room window. She took out her wand, stood up, and approached the window warily, wondering if it could be something potentially dangerous, but then as she got closer, she saw that it was an owl, tapping its beak against the window.
Surprised and slightly puzzled as to who would be sending her letters, she opened the window and the owl hopped onto the window seat, dropped a tiny, rolled up scrap of parchment on the cushion and then flew off immediately.
Hermione sat down, picked up the parchment and then closed the window as a frigid breeze rushed in. Leaning against the wall, she unfurled the note.
H,
Tonight, midnight, common room. Be there. Be alone.
And that was it. She turned the scrap over, but there was nothing on the back either. She didn't even know who it was from, and now they were demanding she meet them alone in her common room in the middle of the night. She suspected it was probably from the Order, but couldn't they have asked McGonagall to speak to her rather than sending her mysterious notes? It was all a bit puzzling.
After receiving the note, Hermione went back to her room, taking the book with her. At about half past ten she heard the sounds of the shower running and soft thumps of doors opening and closing and objects being moved around and concluded that Malfoy had returned to the common room, for tonight at least. Her conversation with Hagrid lay heavy on her mind, and she wondered if she there was any possible way she and Malfoy could make something work… assuming of course that he wanted to. Maybe her latest rejection would be one too much. Her stomach churned.
Noises from outside ceased at about half past eleven, which Hermione was glad about – she hadn't wanted to have to go and tell Malfoy that she needed him to leave so she could rendezvous with a stranger who had owled her a note – and after double checking Draco was nowhere to be found, Hermione crept into the common room and cast Silencing charms on his closed door so he wouldn't be disturbed by anything that happened. She seated herself in an armchair, hidden in a pool of shadows with her wand in her hand, and waited.
She had been slightly worried that she might drift off while waiting, but she was so nervous and tense and had so much adrenaline pumping around her body that to fall asleep right now would be impossible. The dying embers of the fire hissed softly, popping occasionally, and the clock on the mantle ticked, but otherwise the room was silence, and blanketed in near complete darkness. The faint and only light came from the fireplace and cast shadows of the armchairs and trestle tables nearest to it so that they appeared as great gargoyles climbing up the walls, monsters that could just as easily be guarding Hermione as preying on her.
As the clock hands crept closer to twelve, Hermione became entirely still, her guard at its highest it had been in a long time, just in case of an ambush. Twelve o'clock was welcomed with the gentle chiming of the clock, but with nothing else. Still Hermione did not move. One minute past, two minutes past… then at three minutes past, in her peripheral vision she saw a glow, growing greater with every second, for the ashes in the grate were suddenly beginning to spark until all at once they burst into huge green flames, licking at the fireplace and roaring as they danced until they spat out a figure onto the carpet.
Instantly Hermione was on her feet, wand pointed at her guest.
"Expelliarmus."
With her left hand she caught the wand that came spiralling towards her while keeping her own trained on the figure on the rug, who had not yet stood up.
The flames had died back down again to mere embers and the room was draped again in the deceiving fog of the night. The figure began brushing ash and soot off their clothes and pulled themself into a kneeling position. She couldn't see who they were in the darkness and did not dare get any closer.
"Who are you? Who sent you? What do you want?" she demanded, her voice betraying none of the fear she felt.
"Is that how you welcome a guest into your common room? By asking them questions without giving them any time to answer? You could at least offer me a cup of tea," the figure remarked cheekily while straightening up.
Hermione's jaw almost dropped.
"Fred?"
"Hello," he replied, and Hermione could tell by his voice that he was smiling.
She waved her wand and a few of the candles lit up, giving her enough light to reveal the familiar face of the Weasley twin, grinning broadly.
"Do you think I could get my wand back?" he asked.
However Hermione was still wary. "Wait a minute. I have to check it's really you. What happened that time you tried to put your name in the Triwizard Cup?"
"Dumbledore's Age Line gave me and Georgie two really brilliant beards," Fred smiled.
"When we were tidying The Burrow's pantry in the summer, what did we discover was the secret behind your mum's chocolate brownies?"
"She makes them with a Muggle cake mix."
"What happened the last time you saw me?"
There was an uncomfortable silence.
"I kissed you then Disapparated."
Satisfied that it was Fred – although now feeling very uncomfortable – Hermione threw his wand back to him and then walked towards him, gesturing for him to take a seat at the nearest armchair while she dragged one closer to the fire to sit opposite him.
He didn't speak, so Hermione asked the most burning question on her mind.
"What are you doing here?"
Fred smiled. "There's something that the Order wanted to tell you about. They were going to pass on the message via McGonagall but when we were discussing it at Headquarters I asked if I could visit you here and tell you instead. They weren't exactly happy about it, but I practically begged them and they let me."
"Why would you do that?" asked Hermione, confused.
"I missed Hogwarts, and it's nice to feel useful lately without having to go and do something dangerous, like a raid or an ambush or something. But also, I thought you and I had some unfinished business. After all, it was time to grow up and speak to you."
Nodding, Hermione was struck with surprise. She didn't know what to say, so stayed quiet and waited for him to speak. Fred cleared his throat slightly, looking uncharacteristically ill at ease, and interlocked his fingers.
"I guess the main thing I wanted to say was that I'm sorry for reacting the way I did, you know, storming off and ignoring you. And kissing you in the first place, I suppose. I started to like you over summer, thought I'd take a shot, and then instead of taking rejection like a man I yelled at you, ignored you and sent back your Christmas present… although it was painful to do that actually, because I damn near cried when I opened it and saw what it was," he grinned. "But yeah, I'm really sorry, and I've missed you. I wanted to know if you could forgive me and we could go back to being friends?"
"I'd like that," she replied with a smiled. "I forgive you. Now let's forget about it. What's the news from the Order?"
"Well, there's some less important stuff I thought we could talk about first," said Fred, looking much more comfortable. "First… well, I don't know if you've heard, but… Ted Tonks is dead."
Hermione gasped. "Oh no. Poor Tonks. How?"
"He'd been on the run for a little while, but Snatchers caught up with him and killed him."
"Snatchers?"
"Oh, yeah, you won't have heard, the Ministry's trying to keep it quiet," Fred replied. "They're groups of wizards, usually Mundungus types, you know, do anything for a couple of Sickles. They go round, rounding up and catching Muggleborns and then take them to the Death Eaters, dead or alive, for a reward."
"That's sick," hissed Hermione.
"It's You-Know-Who, what do you expect? Anyway, it was pure chance we found the group of them with Ted's body. We managed to capture a few of them, though a couple got away, and take Ted's body back for a proper burial. Tonks has named the baby after him. Little Teddy."
"Oh, so she's had the baby then?" Hermione felt her stomach lighten slighty – this was much nicer news.
"Yeah, a couple of days ago. But I think that's about it for updates… except the big thing."
The atmosphere changed, Hermione could feel it as it became more charged with anticipation.
"Big thing?"
"Yes." Fred's voice dropped to a hush, and became even more serious. "Harry and Ron have destroyed one."
"What?!"
They'd destroyed a Horcrux? This was big news, and Hermione's heart soared – this was wonderful news.
"And that's not all – they've found another too."
This was the best news Hermione had heard in weeks. Such progress was astounding, and it meant that at the very least the end of the war was getting closer.
"This is incredible! How? When? Where? Why haven't they destroyed the second one?"
Hermione couldn't keep the questions from bubbling over.
Fred explained that no-one knew the full story except Harry and Ron, who didn't want to talk about it in detail, but they'd found the locket through Kreacher, after realising that the initials on the fake stood for Regulus Articurus Black, Sirius's brother. Once they'd found the locket, Dumbledore had given Gryffindor's sword to Harry (as it was imbibed with Basilisk venom) to destroy it, and they'd gotten rid of it. Dumbledore had then helped the two of them break into Gringott's because he had reason to believe another Horcrux was in there, they'd found one, some cup belonging to Helga Hufflepuff, but somehow (and this Harry and Ron didn't want to discuss) they'd lost the sword, so now they had the Horcrux but couldn't destroy it. Dumbledore had been helping them every so often, which explained some of his absence from Hogwarts, and he'd even helped the Ministry cover up the break in to the bank.
Even though they didn't know how to destroy the second Horcrux without the sword, it was great news, and a breakthrough that the Order had been waiting for. Hermione absorbed Fred's tale in silence and stayed quiet even at the end because she couldn't believe what had happened.
"Seeing you lost for words is quite odd," Fred remarked.
"I'm just… this is fantastic news. I'm so happy," Hermione managed to say.
"One last thing though – Harry passed me on a message through Dumbledore. They think there might be another one in the school somewhere. They asked if you could keep an eye out for anything you think might be one, and to have a little look around if you can, and to let them know if you have any brainwaves about it," Fred added.
"I can do that," she replied eagerly, glad to be given a task that could mean she'd be useful for once.
Fred nodded, then looked at the clock. It was quarter past midnight. "I need to go soon. We only set up the Floo temporarily, and we aren't sure how long it'll be secure for."
"Oh, of course," Hermione replied.
She stood up, and then so did Fred. After a second of awkwardness, she reached across and they embraced.
As they stepped apart, Hermione looked up at gangly young man with worried eyes.
"Are things alright with you? With everyone?"
"As good as they can be, all things considered," Fred replied, nodding. "I'm dating a girl called Melanie, working at the shop, helping out with the Order whenever I can."
"Melanie? The girl who works in your shop?"
"Yeah," Fred admitted sheepishly. "I know I said she might be part troll, but she's a really nice person. She's kind and sweet and I really like her."
"That's nice," smiled Hermione sincerely.
"What about you? Did you end up with that Nott bloke?"
Hermione looked at her feet. "Yeah, we went out for a little while but it didn't work out."
"Oh, I'm sorry. Is there no-one else?"
"Kind of. But it's really complicated," she hedged.
"How could it possibly be more complicated than going out with a Death Eater's son?" asked Fred wryly.
"You have no idea," she half-laughed, shaking her head. "It's just… it's too impossible to ever work out."
"I see. Well, I'm sorry about that."
He looked genuinely sympathetic, and Hermione nodded her thanks. Then he put his hand in his pocket and pulled out a small box which he opened to reveal green Floo powder. He threw it in the fire, looked around suspiciously and then muttered "Grimmauld Place." The fire responded immediately, towering green flames billowing up, spilling out from the grate and nearly blinding Hermione with the sudden burst of light. Fred bent down and placed one foot in the flames, but turned back before stepping entirely into the green blaze.
"Hermione?" he asked.
"Yes?"
"If there was a way to make it work with this other guy, no matter how improbable it might be, would you go for it?"
Hermione thought about it for a second before answering.
"I think I would."
Fred nodded. "If there's any more news, I'll get them to send it through McGonagall. It was brilliant seeing you again."
And then he stepped into the fire, there was another burst of green light and a slight breeze that ruffled Hermione's hair, and Fred was gone.
She stared at the fireplace for a few minutes after he left, even though the room was now entirely dark because the fire had gone out. She wrapped her arms around herself as she grew cold, and then walked back off to her room with a faint smile on her face. Today had been long, and weird, and clarifying. While things with Draco were no more sorted out, at the very least things with Ginny and Hagrid were, and it was great news about the boys.
Maybe things with Draco would be fixed eventually.
Maybe, like Fred said, there might end up being a way to make it work. Because ultimately, it seemed today had proven to her that she did want to make it work with him. Why, she didn't know. But it was true.
She didn't know how that could happen though. Especially since she couldn't even bring herself to speak to him. She was still hurt, and to be apart from him, while hard, did still seem like the best thing.
As she made her way back to her room in the pitch blackness, she didn't notice that Malfoy's door was hanging slightly ajar.