Chapter 25: Hermione
"I'm fine," I insisted for the umpteenth time. It was Tuesday evening, and I was adamant that I needed to return to work the following day.
Pansy had stayed with me after Malfoy left, calling in sick for me and setting me up with tissues and a stack of books. Despite my assurance that I had run out of tears and could safely return to work, Pansy argued that I shouldn't expose my co-workers to the abject horror that was my bloodshot eyes and dark circles.
"The pillow creases on your face beg to differ," she replied.
"I don't care how I look. I just need to be at work. I can't stay home and be alone with my brain for another day, I'll go crazy," I said, my eyes brimming with fresh tears. Okay, so I had some left. I tried fighting them, but when Pansy looked at me piteously, I felt the tears spill from my eyes.
"This is fucking ridiculous," I wept. "It was barely a month. How can this hurt so fucking much?"
Pansy was thoughtful for a moment. "I don't think the timeframe matters when you meet the other side of your coin."
I looked at her, bleary-eyed through my tears. "What do you mean?"
Pansy reached for her cup of tea. "To borrow one of Luna's phrases: for God's sake, turn your head off for a moment and leave it on the side table."
"I don't think she used those exact words."
"I'm paraphrasing," Pansy replied dismissively. "The point is, you measure everything against this invisible axis in your head. You believe because you only reconnected with Draco about a month ago that you should feel less for him than if you were, say, five years into this."
I mumbled an incoherent assent.
"Your irrepressible rationale doesn't have a place here. This isn't a linear thing. This is your heart." Pansy took another sip of her tea. "It was no surprise to me at all and that you and Draco found your way to one another."
I waited, eager for her to elaborate.
"You're a powerhouse," she explained matter-of-factly. "You're intelligent, determined, fearless and passionate. You've blazed a path for every young witch who will come after you. You are a one-woman Fiendfyre, Hermione Granger."
"Thank you, Pansy," I replied, quietly humbled.
"Draco is all of those things, but he doesn't set the world on fire the way you do. He chills it." Pansy tucked her legs up under herself, suddenly serious. "He wasn't always so cold, you know. Draco changed a lot during the war, and it affected everything." Her voice trailed off on the last word. I realised that she was talking about their relationship.
Pansy was pretty circumspect about her relationship with Draco. It was common knowledge that they'd dated at school, with Pansy simpering after him while Malfoy lapped up the attention. I, like most people, had found them to be utterly obnoxious. Upon becoming friends with Pansy, she had explained her family dynamic. Her parents made her feel like a commodity. Being romantically linked to Malfoy gave her an identity and a sense of worth in her parent's eyes. But she'd never shared what led to the end of their relationship.
"Draco was forced to learn some pretty dark stuff, and to survive it, he had to be cold and hide his emotions all the time. He was punished by Voldemort every time he failed his training. It was fucking horrible." Pansy's placid facade faltered, and it was the first time I could ever recall seeing Pansy look so unguarded. Her crystal blue eyes glistened, and her voice was strained. "You don't ever forget the sound of your best friend's screams."
I thought instantly of Harry's screams when Sirius died.
"And for the first time in his life, Draco couldn't run to his father to fix it because it was Lucius's fault Draco was in that situation. We hated him for that; Theo, Blaise and I." Pansy cleared her throat and blinked away her unshed tears.
"It was just before Sixth year that our parents' had arranged our marriage," she continued. "I was a silly little twit back then, and all I could think about was our big, fat, Slytherin wedding. We were going to live happily ever after, you know?" she smirked. "Anyway, he became withdrawn and barely spoke to anyone. Being Draco Malfoy's girlfriend was all I knew how to be, and suddenly he didn't want me anymore? I was selfish, and it confused the hell out of me. Suddenly, the Draco I'd known and loved for so long didn't exist anymore. He was cold, impatient, aloof. It broke my heart. But whatever he was going through, I knew it was bad, so I refused to turn my back on him."
We were silent for a moment. Pansy's shoulders straightened, and her vulnerable expression suddenly cleared as though she'd charmed it; her customary impassivity firmly back in place.
"I think Draco has a great capacity to love. You just have to understand why he is the way he is. Now, he may not be blocking cruciatus curses anymore, but he still feels that he has something to prove. It's survival." Pansy took a final sip of her tea and set the cup down delicately. "It's very Queen Elsa of him, really. 'Conceal, don't feel'. Even the colouring matches when you think about it..."
My head was spinning as I absorbed everything that Pansy had shared with me.
"All I'm trying to say is that Draco is your equal, Hermione," Pansy informed. "You and Draco have survived the worst of times because both of you are a force of nature. Fire and ice."
I sniffed loudly, my tears beginning anew. "Thank you for telling me. Although it's done nothing to help me to feel better about things, you heartless wench."
"Now, Granger, if you want hearts, flowers and fluffy things, call Potter. I give you honesty. And honestly, you need to shower." Pansy flashed me a complex look that was somewhere between disdain and outright pity. I quickly sniffed at my t-shirt and pouted. A day and a half on the couch had left me looking and smelling homeless.
"After that, you need to be kind to yourself," Pansy continued. "You fell hard, and it hurts, but you'll be okay. Take the Dreamless Sleep Potion that I left on the bench for you and call me tomorrow." She stood up, reaching for her Prada purse. "I've styled your work outfits for the rest of the week. Tomorrow's outfit is black because you're mourning the death of the 'D'."
I chuckled despite the ache in my chest, and she pulled me up to hug her.
"Shower, shave your legs, sleep," she ordered firmly, before dropping a chaste kiss on my forehead and exiting through the Floo once more.
Stepping into my office on Wednesday morning was a fresh hell I hadn't anticipated. Malfoy had only been here once, but I felt his presence imprinted on every surface of my office. I sat down at my desk, trying to collect my thoughts.
It was the right thing to do. It was the right thing to do. I repeated the mantra in my head a few more times. Eventually, I rolled up the sleeves of my black turtleneck sweater and got to work.
The first order of business: Blaise Zabini's acceptance letter sitting on my desk. Included with it was a hand-written note from Blaise, thanking me for bringing him in and extending an open invitation for lunch.
I opted to take the file to the Owlery myself, seizing the opportunity to get out of my office. Watching the large grey owl carry the file away was bittersweet. I was sad to be walking away from the Project but was grateful for the distance it would put between Malfoy and me. Like it would somehow make it hurt less.
The sense of finality that Malfoy and I were no longer partners, no longer anything was gut-wrenching, and I crouched on the floor, squeezing my eyes closed against a fresh onslaught of tears. I gritted my teeth, determined not to let the tears win this time. A few deep breaths later, and I was okay. I straightened up, wiping my palms on my black wide-leg pants, before turning on my heel and striding purposefully out of the Owlery.
Heart, 76. Hermione, 1.
The days rolled into weeks, the raw pain of walking away from Malfoy ebbing to a dull ache. I hadn't thought of him as a ferret in over a month. I'd taken up running with Ginny to take my mind off things and had started training for a half-marathon. I had even gone on a few dates. Tonight, it was dinner a healer from St Mungo's, that I met while training. The guy was attractive enough, seemed reasonably intelligent (he was a healer) and had similar interests and opinions to mine. But that was precisely the fucking problem - he was so agreeable. There was no pushback, no challenge. I had even used my minimal knowledge of Quidditch to try and debate with him, but nothing. He just stayed infuriatingly neutral on everything. It was like Ron all over again.
After dinner, he apparated us to my apartment building, turning to me expectantly.
"I had a nice time, Hermione," he said.
"Me too," I lied, forcing a smile. I knew what was coming next, and I wanted to try at least. He leaned in and kissed me, but predictably, there was no spark. I kissed him back, determined to feel something. My date's arms wrapped around my waist, his tongue slipping into my mouth. His taste turned to ash on my tongue, and I pulled away quickly.
"Ah, I'm sorry," I apologised. "I'm just not quite there yet."
My date looked deflated, but he hid it quickly. He gave me a small smile. "It's okay. Bad breakup?"
Could I even call it that?
"It's complicated," I answered.
My date shrugged his shoulders. "I get it." He scuffed his shoe against the concrete. "Was it Draco Malfoy?"
I hadn't heard his name in weeks. My stomach plummeted. "What makes you think that?"
He shrugged again. "I saw you the photos and the articles about you in The Daily Prophet ages ago. I just put two and two together."
I shook my head, but I couldn't answer him properly. My date spared me another small smile, and he reached up to touch my cheek. "When you're ready, give me a call, yeah?"
"Yeah, sure." And then he was gone. I glanced down at my watch—9:26 pm. Harry would still be up.
The lights were on at 12 Grimmauld Place, but I couldn't hear anyone. I carefully closed the door so as not to disturb the curtains covering Walburga Black's portrait.
"Harry?" I called, walking down the hallway to the kitchen. Kreacher was collecting the dishes from the table. Two place settings, I noted curiously.
"Hello, Kreacher. You're looking well. Is Harry in?"
"Master is in the drawing-room," Kreacher growled. Even with all I had done for house-elves with S.P.E.W., this ungrateful little shit's demeanour toward me hadn't much changed over the years. So I acted even more sickly sweet to him, just to piss him off.
"Thank you, Kreacher. You're so kind," I replied, earning me a disgruntled mumble in return. I made my way to the drawing-room, finding the door closed, which I found unusual but opened it to enter.
I was met with the sight of a very shirtless Harry Potter sitting on the sofa, with who appeared to be an equally shirtless Theo Nott kneeling on the floor between Harry's legs. Harry's hand clasped the back of Theo's head.
"Oh, dear God!" I shrieked, immediately covering my eyes and turning away from them.
"No need for formalities, Granger. Theo is fine."
"Hermione!" Harry cried, hastily zipping up his jeans. "Jesus, wh- what are you doing here?"
"Kreacher told me you were in here! I just had a bad date and wanted a drink with you. I'm so sorry; I should've called first!"
Harry shrugged on a shirt. "It's fine, I was just, um -"
Theo patted Harry on the shoulder. "Let's not ruin a beautiful moment with words, Potter."
I turned around, peering cautiously through my hands. "I'm so sorry," I repeated. Harry stared at me, a crimson tinge colouring his cheeks. Theo glanced between us.
"Elevating a situation to this level of awkwardness is my bread and butter," Theo announced loudly. "My work here is done. I'll be in the kitchen." Theo strode out of the room, barking for Kreacher as he went.
"So, bad date?" Harry shuffled uncomfortably and scratched at his stubble; his other hand jammed into his pocket.
"Harry, I am so sorry," I whispered again, but he waved me off.
"It's fine. I was going to tell you soon anyway," Harry replied, sitting on the sofa again. I moved toward the couch opposite him, pausing before taking a seat.
"Is this one safe to sit on?" I asked.
"Shut up. Yes, it's fine," Harry answered. I sat down, flinging my purse onto the seat beside me. "That said, Sirius did live here for years, so there's probably nothing in this house that's safe to sit on. Sleep on. Eat on, even…"
"Oh, that's probably disgustingly true."
Harry chuckled. His cheeks were no longer red, but he still looked sheepish. "I'm sorry you had to walk in on that, Hermione."
"No, I'm sorry. I shouldn't have come barging in here. I forget that we're not kids anymore. Respect for privacy is actually a thing."
"Not for me!" came a cry from somewhere in the kitchen.
"Not now, Theo!" Harry yelled back.
"So, you and Theo are…?" I asked.
"Yeah, we are. It's been going on for a while, but obviously, we can't be open about it right now," Harry said with a shrug. "It took me a long time to admit that there was something there."
I nodded absently. I'm familiar with the feeling.
"Ask Granger whether she prefers the nickname 'Theory' or 'NottPott'," Theo called again.
"Kreacher, please give him something shiny to look at!"
I couldn't help but feel a little jealous of Harry and Theo. They hadn't attracted the public's attention like Malfoy and I had, and while Harry was a Ministry official, he wasn't directly tied to the Project. It was still an illicit relationship under Shacklebolt's orders, but they were far less likely to be exposed.
"I wanted to tell you for a while, but you were going through something of your own." Harry continued, looking pointedly at me. I had told Harry I left the Project, but I hadn't told him why. I had suspected for some time that he was in a relationship with Theo. I didn't want to put Harry in the awkward position of having to lie to him.
"You know you can always tell me anything, Harry. I'm sorry that I haven't been a very good friend to you lately," I apologised.
"It's fine, Hermione. We're good. Are you okay?"
I barked out a mirthless laugh. "In a manner of speaking."
"What went wrong with your date?"
"He probably sent her into the kitchen with the help!" Theo yelled loudly from the other room.
"Oh, for fuck's sake, Nott. Get in here!"
Theo sauntered through the door, carrying a bottle of red wine. Three huge wine glasses floated along behind him.
"Are you going to put a shirt on?" I asked him when he plopped himself down beside Harry.
"No, I don't think I will," Theo replied blithely, freeing the cork with a tap of his wand. I opened my mouth to protest, but Harry held up his hand.
"You can keep asking, but really, it's like arguing with an irreverent parakeet -"
"Aw, that's sweet," Theo beamed at Harry, filling the wine glasses.
"– so I find it easier to just go with it."
"Right," I conceded. Theo floated an overfull glass to me, and I immediately drained half of it. Harry and Theo both regarded me with amusement, Theo raising his glass in the air in a silent toast before bringing it to his lips.
"Shit, that bad?" Harry laughed. I swallowed the wine with a grimace.
"No," I choked out, the wine burning down my throat. "It wasn't bad, it was fine. It was nauseatingly, feebly fucking fine."
"Okayyyyyyy," Harry replied slowly, dragging out the last syllable. "So why are you chugging wine like you're back at university?"
I didn't answer straight away. Instead, I chugged my wine like I was back at university.
"Kreacher! Master says we're going to need more wine!" Theo bellowed. A moment later, Kreacher skulked into the room, grumbling under his breath and dutifully carrying two more bottles of red.
"I don't want 'fine'," I said when my glass was overfull again. "'Fine' is only good when you're talking about food or art. Or wine." I took another long swallow, exhaling through the burn. "'Fine' is one of the last things you want for your life, though, isn't it? When you're on your deathbed, who wants to look back and say, 'my life was fine'?"
Harry shrugged, nodding thoughtfully. Theo momentarily looked subdued.
"Depends on where you start, Granger," he mused. "For some, 'fine' can be quite an improvement."
Harry gave Theo's thigh a brief squeeze, the two sharing a compassionate look. Harry and Theo both had rough childhoods; no doubt it was something they had bonded over. No matter what side you were born on, abuse doesn't discriminate. I swiftly felt guilty for complaining about how bland my relationships were now when the people close to me had it so much worse for much longer.
My parents adored me before I obliviated them. Ginny and Ron may not have had wealth, but they had love in spades. We were the lucky ones. Luna lost her mother at a young age and had to care for her father. Pansy's parents determined her worth by whom they could marry her off to. She had become decidedly less valuable to them when her arranged marriage to Malfoy was called off, and subsequently, she had a very strained relationship with her parents. Harry's childhood was now legendary. Theo never knew his mother and had felt nothing from his father but the back of his hand. Even Blaise had a new stepfather for every day of the week.
"God, I'm a jerk," I blurted out, the wine buzzing in my veins.
"In this instance, yes. But you get points for recognising it," Harry answered good-naturedly.
"How come when Granger is a jerk, she gets points, but when I'm a jerk, all I get is 'don't make me arrest you again, Nott'?" Theo turned to Harry accusingly.
"Because when you're a jerk, it usually involves the defacement of public property. As an Auror, it's my job to stop it."
"Did you by chance learn that judgey face from Pansy?"
"Did you by chance learn your social skills from Peeves?"
The wine was warming me from the inside out, and a giggle bubbled up from my throat. I tried smothering it with my hand, but the giggles soon got the better of me. Harry and Theo stopped bickering and looked at where I was now laughing, sprawled out on the sofa, my wine glass almost empty again.
"You're not usually such a lightweight," Harry chuckled. "Must be the marathon training."
"I'm sorry, you're just so bloody cute," I sputtered between belly laughs.
"She obviously means me, Potter."
"Does she though?" said Harry doubtfully.
"I want to know how you two got together." I held out my glass for more wine.
"How could I forget?" Harry began. "I've tried so hard."
"Really, Potter?" Theo sputtered indignantly. He was still shirtless; his fist closed tightly around the stem of his wine glass. He looked so ridiculously offended that my giggles erupted uncontrollably once again, earning me a glare from Theo. "Get out of my house, Granger."
"This isn't your house, Nott," Harry reminded him calmly, placing his hand on the base of Theo's glass and tipping it toward his mouth. "I'm sorry. Have another drink."
Theo huffed for a moment but silently sipped his wine.
"We'd become passing acquaintances over the years -"
"'Passing acquaintances'? That's a bit la-di-dah for you, isn't it?" Theo teased.
"– But I guess the first time we really spoke was at a Harpies game," Harry continued, purposely ignoring Theo. "The investment mob Nott was working for at the time was a major sponsor of the Harpies, and he was invited to a post-game corporate function. I was there with Ginny. Something clicked for me at the time, but I didn't know what it was. After that, things just didn't feel right with Ginny and me, and we broke up a few months later."
Even in my moderately drunken haze, I was starting to put the pieces together from the snippets that Harry and Ginny had both told me about their breakup. I nodded, urging Harry to continue.
"Nott and I didn't really keep in contact at all. A few months ago, I was at Seamus's pub with the others from our Thursday night Quidditch team, discussing who we could get as a fill-in for the following week," Harry went on. "Theo was at the bar getting a drink, and he volunteered."
"Ask me how good I am at Quidditch," Theo said to me.
"How good?"
"Fucking terrible. Ask me how good I looked in the uniform."
"I'm begging you, Hermione, don't," Harry cut in. "Nott's right. He was fucking terrible, and we got smashed by the opposition. Anyway, as usual, we went to Seamus's after the game for a pint, and Nott came with us. It was a great night. After the others left, I stayed back and just hung out with him."
Theo had been silent for three whole minutes, which had to have been a record for him. He quietly sipped his wine, gazing fondly at Harry across the rim of his glass.
"The thing that had clicked for me that day at the Harpies was still there, and I didn't want to leave." Harry smiled warmly at Theo, and my heart swelled. "On the walk home, I was drunk enough to admit to Nott that I think I liked him but that I was terrified because I didn't expect to feel that way about another guy."
"I'm very much not just 'another guy', though. I have a certain je ne sais quoi," Theo chimed in.
"You do, and I promise you, we will get it checked out first thing on Monday," Harry responded, rubbing Theo's leg patronisingly, laughing when Theo pushed his hand away. "Then I got scared and pretty much ignored him. Fast forward a few weeks to the night you and I went for dinner at Seamus's, and we saw Nott with Malfoy, and I realised how much I liked him, but I was still terrified. We hooked up after the benefit ball -"
"Oh, the cuticle thing!" I piped up.
"- and now, here we are." Harry raised his glass in a toast.
"I think Roxette said it best." Theo clinked his glass with Harry's.
"'Listen to Your Heart'?" I asked.
"'Joyride', actually. But contextually, yours is much better."
"It's all making so much sense now," I said, disregarding Theo's comment. Theo and Harry sat there in comfortable silence, drinking their wine and looking so smugly happy with themselves. I exhaled a huge sigh, the fog from my third bucket-sized glass of red wine blurring the edges of my vision, or perhaps it was more sodding tears.
"I'm so happy you're happy, Harry," I said, my voice straining with imminent drunk tears. I sniffed and wailed loudly. "You found the other side of your coin!"
"Oh, bloody hell." Harry moved off the sofa to sit beside me, putting his arms around me and leaning my head against his chest.
"I'll help Kreacher make up the spare room." Theo slid from the sofa with a sigh, shouting for Kreacher again as he went. Harry rocked me back and forth comfortingly for a moment until my tears subsided a little. He then dragged me to stand, reaching for his wand and flicking it toward the ancient gramophone in the corner. It crackled for a moment before a familiar tune filled the air, and Harry pulled me in for a dance.
"This worked to make you feel better last time you were really sad," he whispered.
"O, children," sang the chorus of voices from the gramophone.
The wine in our systems was not making our coordination any better since the last time we danced to this song, but Harry felt as sturdy as ever under my hands.
"I think I fell in love with Malfoy," I admitted, my head resting on Harry's shoulder as we spun lazily on the spot.
"Malfoy? Really?" Harry pulled back to look at me, his eyes wide with surprise. I nodded forlornly, and Harry smiled. "Who'd have thought you and I would fall in love with a couple of Slytherins?"
"And they're the worst Slytherins too!" I wailed, my head flopping back on to his shoulder.
Harry laughed, still dancing slowly. "Theo's not so bad. And as long as Malfoy makes you happy and takes care of you, Hermione, that's all that matters."
"It doesn't matter, it's over anyway," I murmured sullenly. "Because of the Project, it barely got off the ground."
The song faded out with a crackle, but I stayed in the protective circle of my best friend's arms.
"Do you want to stay?" Harry asked before releasing me.
I shook my head, regretting it immediately when the action made me feel dizzy. "I've spoiled your night enough. You should go and finish what I interrupted earlier."
Theo re-entered the room, eating a grilled cheese sandwich.
"I thought you were helping Kreacher make up the spare bed?"
"I was."
"Then where did you get the sandwich?"
Theo took an enormous bite. "You're so detail-oriented, Potter. You should've been an Auror."
"Ladies and gentlemen, I give you the love of my fucking life," Harry chuckled. Theo tipped an imaginary hat. "Come on, Hermione, I'll walk you out."
"I'll walk her out. You should fix your teeth. They're all red from the wine and if you think for one minute that I'm letting you anywhere near my d -"
"Night, Harry!" I walked out to the hallway, cutting Theo off mid-sentence. When we reached the front door, Theo pulled me in for an unexpected hug, whispering in my ear.
"For what it's worth, Draco is fucking miserable too."
I gasped, pulling back to look at him. He winked and opened the front door, the wind whistling in past us.
"Concentrate on getting home safe, Granger, else you'll splinch."
"I'm not sad about Dra-, I mean, Malfoy."
Theo tutted. "Just focus. I am not one for picking up severed limbs, please and thank you." He leaned casually against the doorframe, sandwich still in hand. "Text Harry once you get home, so we know you made it safe, okay?"
He shut the door behind me once I reached the apparition point. The cold night air had left me devastatingly sober.
You're not alone in this.
A/N: Thank you for the reviews on Chapter 24. That one hurt to write. I needed to break up the heartbreak with a bit of Harry/Theo fluff, I hope you enjoy. Stay safe and well wherever you may be in the world. xx