"We have been very brave, we have wanted to know the worst, wanted the curtain to be lifted from our eyes. This dream going on with all of us in it. Penciling in the bighearted slob. Penciling in his outstretched arms. (...) We make these ridiculous idols so we can get to what's behind them, but what happens after we get up the ladder? Do we simply stare at what's horrible and forgive it?" - Snow and Dirty Rain, Richard Siken

Hermione was leaning against a concrete wall, trying to make herself inconspicuous. The sky was a morose shade of light grey, and off in the distance, thunder and lightning rumbled.

She smelled the musky scent of the rain to come and hugged her jumper tighter against her body, tilting her head to look inside the shop. She didn't know how Ginny could've drawn-out the simple task of buying coffee in a nearly empty shop, but she'd been there for almost ten minutes.

Finally, Ginny turned around, offering a charming smile to the remaining patrons before she stepped out of the shop. "What took you so long?" asked Hermione, reaching for the large to-go cup of Americano. She took a sip and sighed, feeling the caffeine warm her up from the inside and out. "Merlin, I needed this."

Ginny smirked. "The barista wanted to congratulate me on the engagement. Apparently she's a huge fan of Harry. She actually had a copy of our announcement that she wanted me to sign," she said, already beginning to walk down the busy street.

"Oh, I bet you hated the flattery."

"There's nothing wrong with a bit of appreciation," shrugged Ginny. "I don't know why it makes you so shy when people tell you they admire you."

Because these people don't know a single thing about me. "Well, at least it got you the appointment you wanted so much."

"Oh Merlin, I know!" exclaimed Ginny, looking thrilled. "Mrs. Choi is the best wedding dress designer in Britain! Her creations are beautiful." She exhaled a dreamy sigh.

"That's cool," said Hermione, draining the rest of the coffee and throwing the cup into a nearby bin. "But isn't it kind of early to go dress shopping? You haven't even set a date yet."

She shook her head. "The dress is literally the most important part of the ceremony. It'll take time for us to bring my vision to life. You have my binder with my inspiration in it, right?"

"Yes, it's in my purse," said Hermione. "Maid of honor duty, right?"

"Exactly," she sighed in relief. "Getting the dress together will take months."

"Even with the help of magic?" said Hermione, genuinely confused. "I mean, shouldn't it rush that sort of thing?"

"You don't rush perfection, Hermione," said Ginny, giving her an exasperated look. "And, I might have waited until the last second to tell you this on purpose, but my mum will meet us at the store." Hermione did her best to appear impassive, but she couldn't suppress the twitch at the corners of her mouth. Ginny narrowed her eyes. "I didn't want her to come either."

"I adore your mother-" tried Hermione.

"But she's hard to deal with, I know," muttered Ginny. "She only backed off from that pink tulle nightmare of hers when I agreed to let her be a part of everything else, so this is the lesser of two evils. It could even be fun, you know? Even if we argue some, she'll be helpful."

She was clearly struggling to convince herself, so Hermione gave her an encouraging smile. "I'm sure she will," she said, sounding more enthusiastic than she felt.

Once they arrived at the small brick building, Ginny pushed open the door, revealing a narrow staircase. The entrance of the boutique had a whimsical, airy feel that made Hermione think of a fairy's realm. Enchanted flowers hung from the ceiling, like they'd stepped into \a secret garden. The staircase's golden railing resembled intricate, twisting vines, and its stairs were made of crystal glass, which glowed icy blue when they took a step.

The white walls were covered with glass frames, each displaying a moving photo of a bride. Hermione paused in front of a frame of Hestia Jones - she was coyly turning to glance at the butterflies floating over the cream-colored train of her gown. "Oh, Hestia shopped here."

Ginny hummed knowingly. "Of course she did, don't you remember how gorgeous her dress was? She had the ceremony that every witch dreams of," she sighed happily. "Come on, mum must already be inside, and there's a high chance that she's already driving the staff crazy."

Hermione snickered under her breath and followed Ginny to the first level. As they ascended to the platform at the top of the stairs, a pair of huge glass doors opened in front of them, as if welcoming them to a ball. Hermione could hear Molly's screeching commands from somewhere inside the room. Ginny shot Hermione a frightened glance, and they scurried towards the noise.

They found Molly walking down a row of wedding dresses, issuing a constant stream of demands over her shoulder. She was followed by a flushed witch who was trying to balance three gowns in her arms. The poor woman looked frazzled - her ponytail was tousled, and her forehead shone with perspiration. Ginny's face was turning an alarming shade of red.

"Mum," said Ginny in a firm voice. "What are you doing?"

"Oh dear," said Molly, turning to them with a smile. "Finally you're here! I already started looking at some options, but I have to say I'm not very pleased with what they have here. Maybe I should make you one."

The woman beside her scowled, and Hermione had to press her lips to avoid chuckling. "Mum, can you please stop harassing the employees? My dress is going to be custom made!"

"I tried to tell Mrs. Weasley that these are all last season designs," said the woman, sounding harried.

"I didn't hear it!" said Molly with a frown. "Besides, how was I supposed to know that, Ginevra?"

"You should've waited for me outside either way!" exclaimed Ginny. She closed her eyes for a second before exhaling a long-suffering sigh. "It's fine. Can we please go to the appointment with Mrs. Choi now?"

"Most certainly," the woman piped up, sounding eager to get out of there. She levitated the dresses in her arms to a large floating wardrobe against the far wall. "Welcome to Ahjumma's Boutique, Miss Weasley and Miss Granger. I'm Eunji and I'm a sales assistant. Mrs. Choi is waiting for you in her office."

"Thank you, Eunji," said Ginny.

"Would you come along with me?" said Eunji politely. Ginny shot her mother a pointed look before nodding.

While Ginny followed Eunji, who was enthusiastically showing her around the store, Hermione waited for Molly to catch up. "You okay?"

"Of course I am, dear," said Molly, giving her a warm smile. "That girl is just too much for me to handle these days. The attention is getting to her head," she sighed. "I swear I tried to teach my children to be a little less full of themselves."

"I think she's just excited," said Hermione. "And maybe anxious, as well? She knows people have high expectations," she said, trying to gauge Molly's reaction.

"If she would just accept my help, she wouldn't feel like that. We wouldn't even be here if she'd wear my dress."

"Well, it is her wedding," said Hermione neutrally. Molly's eyes narrowed, but before she could respond, Ginny turned to them.

She looked at them with an arched brow. "Come on, you two."

Molly brushed past them and into the room first. Before Hermione could follow her, Ginny grabbed her elbow and pulled her to the side, gripping her tightly. "I need you to distract my mum, alright?" she whispered.

Hermione looked at her with disbelief. "Didn't you just tell you she'd be helpful?"

"I changed my bloody mind," she hissed. "Please, Hermione?"

"Okay, okay," said Hermione."I'll see what I can do."

Ginny looked relieved. "Thank you," she muttered, releasing her hold on Hermione's arm.

When they entered the room, they found a tiny older woman sitting behind a large desk. She was scrutinizing Molly, who had gone off again, through a pair of glasses which were much too large for her face. Hermione thought she looked amused. She shot Ginny a sidelong glance and followed her to the couch.

Mrs. Choi turned to greet them with a warm expression. "Miss Weasley, is it?" she said. "It's a pleasure to meet you. Your mother here is very enthusiastic about your upcoming nuptials."

"Oh, she is," said Ginny, the words sounding tight through her smile. "Please, call me Ginny. This is my maid of honor," She pointed towards Hermione, who gingerly raised a hand. "I'm so honored to have you work with me on my dress."

"The honor's mine, certainly. Your fiancé is getting his tux from us as well, am I correct?"

"Yes," said Ginny, warming up to her voice. "And I want the entire wedding party to wear your designs. Do you keep up with Muggle culture at all? My dream is for it all to look like a royal wedding."

"It'll be a winter wedding, so all the dresses will have to have long sleeves," interrupted Molly.

"That's an non-issue, mum, we can place warming charms in the venue."

Molly sighed. "And before people arrive and when they leave, Ginevra?"

"We'll have plenty of time to work out the finer details, Mrs. Weasley," said Mrs. Choi smoothly. "Perhaps you would like to flip through some designs with Eunji? We have some champagne for you and Miss Granger in our waiting area." Hermione smirked, recognizing a professional.

"Oh, I don't know," said Molly uncertainly. "It's very important to Ginny and I that I be involved in this process."

"You certainly will be," said Mrs. Choi with a smile. "I'd just like to speak with the bride for a moment before we begin. She'll be right out." She stood up from the desk and gestured at the exit, where Eunji was waiting for them.

"Of course-" tried Molly, backing up towards the exit. "But Ginny, make sure you mention-"

"Thank you," said Mrs. Choi dismissively. Hermione suppressed a chuckle and stepped through the open door. "Now dear," she heard Mrs. Choi say from behind her, "let's begin with what you don't like…"

After an hour in the waiting room, where Molly consumed three glasses of champagne without losing the sour look on her face, the group headed to a large warehouse on the ground floor of the building. The space brimmed with rows and rows of beautiful fabrics, hung from clothing racks, the walls, and the ceiling in a glowing cascade of every shade and texture imaginable. There was a sugary aroma in the air, and Hermione saw that the large windows had been charmed to display a sunny meadow.

Hermione and Molly trailed after an enthusiastic Ginny, who was gushing over the different patterns which Mrs. Choi held up in front of her body. A charmed quill silently catalogued Ginny's reactions and scribbled them into a notepad that floated beside them.

Hermione searched for a topic that might keep Molly's attention off of them. "It's kind of cold today, isn't it?"

"If it's cold now, can you imagine how cold it'll be in January or February when the wedding takes place?"

"Oh, that's not what I meant-"

"Ginevra is so headstrong," said Molly sadly. "The way she is, she's going to choose a sleeveless dress just to spite me."

"I don't think-" tried Hermione.

"Why doesn't she understand I just want what's best for her?" she sighed, a solemn expression on her face. Hermione felt a twinge of sympathy. Molly had been bursting with excitement since the engagement was announced. The constant arguing with Ginny was slowly diminishing her enthusiasm, and Hermione felt guilty that she hadn't been able to mediate. "Could you talk to her?"

Hermione dragged her palm over a patch of tulle displayed on a nearby shelf. She rubbed the soft fabric in between her fingers, feeling Molly's eyes on her. "I think Ginny has a vision of what she wants for this wedding," she said after a minute.

"I know she does," said Molly, "but that doesn't mean there aren't other things she needs to take into account. She's so determined to figure it out all on her own, she won't listen to anyone else's advice, no matter how good."

"But if she's happy, isn't that what matters?" said Hermione quietly. She held in a breath, waiting for Molly to snap at her. When she didn't, Hermione chanced a glance at her. Molly was looking down thoughtfully, twisting her wedding ring in her fingers. Hermione offered her a smile, and slowly, Molly answered with one.

"You're not wrong, Hermione," she murmured. "You'll understand this when you have children of your own, but it's so hard to want what's best for them and know that won't always be their choice."

Hermione nodded in understanding. "I think your kids have good heads on their shoulders," she said, letting go of the tulle. Ginny was a good distance away, but they could hear her exclaim loudly whenever she found something that pleased her.

"And some thick heads, too," chuckled Molly. She paused a moment before continuing. "After everything that's happened, I can't help but worry too much. Especially with Ronald and how dangerous his job is. But you're so thoughtful, Hermione. You can reason with him in ways that I can't, and I appreciate that."

Hermione looked at her from the corner of her eye. She'd been lulled into a false sense of security, but Molly's mention of Ron's name in that tone wrecked that feeling instantly. Hermione's heart started beating faster, and she tasted metal on her tongue.

"Hermione? Can I talk to you?" said Molly.

"Don't you want to help Ginny with the fabrics?"

"I do, but like you said, she has her own vision. I'm going to try to give her space to come to me when she needs me," said Mrs. Weasley, waving a hand in Ginny's direction. "Anyway, you know that I consider you family, don't you? We all do. It's been awhile since you've come to the Burrow on Saturdays, I hope that you didn't feel left out for some reason."

Hermione shifted uncomfortably. "I've just had so much work to do."

"I understand that, Hermione. All you children work so much," she said, giving Hermione a warm smile. "You, Ron and Harry have been working hard since you've been so little, and I know in my heart that it was more than you ever should." She sighed. "You had heavy responsibilities on your shoulders, but that time has passed now. You shouldn't lose sight of what's important."

"I think we're all trying to readjust, in a way," said Hermione. She heard genuine concern in Molly's voice, and wondered if she was being too defensive."It's been an upward climb."

"Making time for family should always be a priority," said Molly. "When it comes to Harry and Ginny, I can sleep peacefully at night. They have each other to lean on, and I trust him to take care of her. But you and Ron are a different matter."

Hermione chewed on her bottom lip nervously. "Ron and I are fine, Mrs. Weasley, you don't have to worry too much about us," she said, choosing her words carefully.

"A mother always worries, Hermione," she said softly. "And you know that my son is in love with you."

Hermione's expression sobered. "Ron understands that we're only good friends," she said firmly, trying to keep a lid on her exasperation. "I hope everyone else in the family understands that too."

Molly's stare sharpened Hermione's uneasiness, and she took a step backward, itching to put an end to the conversation.

"But you've never been just good friends, have you?" asked Molly, stepping closer. Hermione paused, struggling not to turn away. "We all knew you'd end up together someday."

"You can't possibly know that, Mrs. Weasley," said Hermione. "Ron and I's relationship is between Ron and I."

"Don't take this the wrong way, Hermione," she pleaded. "I just want every single one of you to be happy, and it pains me to see you fighting something so beautiful. You've spent all these years together, do you really want to throw that away?"

Hermione exhaled sharply. Why is this so hard for them? She wanted to turn around, to flee, to scream at them all - she wanted to make them understand how exhausted, and how alienated, their expectations made her feel.

She wanted them to understand that they were pushing her away.

But she couldn't force understanding, she knew that.

What she could do, Hermione decided, was to draw a line in this conversation. "I don't mean to be blunt, Molly but I'm kind of tired of having a childhood crush be treated as some kind of life sentence."

Molly flinched. "That's uncalled for, Hermione. You know very well that's not what I meant."

"Maybe not," said Hermione, fighting back the apology that almost left her mouth. "But Ron and I just aren't right for each other. I'm sure he'll meet somebody special."

"Every relationship has its challenges," said Molly, "but you've gone through so much together, and Ron believes you can turn things around. He wants to."

"But I don't want to," interrupted Hermione. "Ron and I have hurt each other every time we tried to make a relationship work."

"And you can't try again?" she pleaded. "Love is about strength, Hermione. If you can just push through, the reward will be incredible. I'm just trying to give you some motherly advice, my dear."

"I appreciate your intentions, but it's not your place," she replied. "Frankly, I've felt like your family has tried to push me and Ron together for years. I'm not trying to be cruel, or to break his heart, but feelings can change, and I've made no secret that mine have. I just don't love Ron like that."

Am I the villain here? Hermione asked herself. Because she understood the iciness in Molly's eyes - she understood the powerlessness of being unable to give someone you love what they wanted. "So you've toyed with my son's heart for years, and now that you've decided to change your mind, you're throwing him to the curb?" she said icily. "Maybe I misjudged your character, Hermione."

"I don't owe Ron, or anyone else, my romantic love and affection," said Hermione angrily. "Molly, I've thought of you as a second mother at times, but that doesn't mean you can judge my character' based on what I can give you."

"You're purposefully misunderstanding me, Hermione."

"I don't think I am," said Hermione in a low voice. "I don't want to have this discussion again with you, or anyone else, so I'll say this for the last time. I'm not going to be with Ron, I don't want to be with Ron, and I'm sorry if that's hard for you to deal with, but we all lived through much harder things, don't you think?"

Molly's gaze burned into her. Hermione shivered, but refused to look away.

After a long moment, Molly said, "We should find Ginny."

"Let's do that, then."

Molly held her stare for another beat, then stepped away without waiting for Hermione to follow.

When she disappeared around the corner, Hermione gasped, feeling like she'd finally kicked to the surface after tumbling into the ocean. She pressed a hand to her chest and willed herself to calm down. Night, gods, unbowed, unafraid, captain, she whispered under breath.

Her love has conditions, she thought, remembering Draco's barely audible whispers.

Every love has conditions - Hermione knew that with as much certainty as she knew that her own ability to love was restricted, no matter how much she tried to get past her own limits.

But some loves were priced too high, and even if she could afford to pay, she didn't think she'd want to. Not when she had to stifle her soul, and not for people that looked at her unflinching as they asked her to.

She continued taking deep breaths. It didn't take long for her heart to slow, but she still felt a burning under her skin. She wasn't sure that the feeling would persist - but for the moment, it was enough to carry her. It was enough for her expression to soften when she finally found Ginny, and it was enough to look at Molly's face without flinching.

It was enough.

When they arrived at the restaurant, Hermione waved her wand to dry off the spots of clothing she couldn't keep out of the rain. Ginny did the same, shivering from the cold but looking happy, still riding on the high of a successful morning.

"Come on," she said, pulling Hermione to the line at the reception desk. A few other people were sitting on benches scattered around the hall, waiting for their tables to be ready.

"Hey, did my mum seem weird to you?" said Ginny. "She was supposed to have lunch with us, but she bailed."

Hermione looked down at her feet. "I don't think your mum was being weird."

Ginny hummed. "Maybe she finally realized how much work it is to plan a wedding and gave up on the whole thing. Do you think she'll back off now?" She smirked at Hermione knowingly.

"I wouldn't count on it," said Hermione, "but I did manage to distract her today."

"That you did," said Ginny, giving her a satisfied smile. "You're a great maid of honor. I knew you'd be, and Harry agreed, even if you haven't sorted whatever your issue is with each other."

"Harry and I are fine," lied Hermione. Even if we've been successfully avoiding each other for weeks now. "Let's not talk about it, alright? Let's have lunch, and you can tell me all about the designs that you and Mrs. Choi came up with, like I know you want to."

"Fine," sang Ginny. "But you'll have to figure it out with Harry soon, because I refuse to have bad energy at my wedding. Merlin knows there'll already be plenty of that from those vultures that'll show up just to hunt for gossip."

"Maybe if you kept the ceremony to family and friends-"

Ginny scoffed. "Please. I'm marrying Harry Potter," she said. "I don't mind it, but sometimes I wish my life was more like yours."

"Like mine?"

"You're the definition of low profile," snickered Ginny. "We never know what's going on with you. Harry says you're barely at home anymore, and we don't have a clue where you disappear to. Not even the press can find you."

"There's nothing wrong with being private."

Ginny arched a brow. "It just makes people want to know more."

"It makes you want to know more," chuckled Hermione.

Ginny shrugged wryly, looking away from Hermione to smile at the receptionist. Hermione saw her eyes widen in recognition.

Just like that, less than two minutes later, they were sitting at a table for two. Hermione scanned her surroundings; the restaurant was swarming with a mix of business types and ritzy couples with the galleons for an overpriced meal. She frowned when she saw a man sitting alone a couple of tables down from them, his head bent to check something on his large camera.

"Ah, for Merlin's sake," she swore. "Is there a photographer in here?"

"What?" said Ginny, turning on her chair to follow her gaze. Her eyes widened. "How could they possibly know we'd come here?"

"I have no idea," muttered Hermione. She caught the man shifting on his chair, pointing his camera in a completely different direction. Her heart fell into her stomach when she found the subjects of his attention. "Oh, he's not here for us."

"No?" said Ginny distractly, already focused on the menu. "Who then?"

"Never mind," said Hermione.

Ginny set the menu down and frowned before turning around in her chair to look. Hermione blushed, hoping they hadn't seen her. "Draco Malfoy and Daphne Greengrass," muttered Ginny. "Is it awful that I wish I could steal her entire closet? Look at that dress! She always looks like a million galleons."

"She probably is worth that much," said Hermione, signaling for the waiter. "She's really beautiful."

"She is. It's a shame she has terrible taste in wizards," scoffed Ginny. She paused when the waiter arrived. Hermione was feeling too jittery to pay attention to the menu, so she rattled off the same dish as her. When he left with their orders, Ginny continued. "Do you think they look good together?"

"I don't have an opinion."

"Everyone has an opinion," retorted Ginny. "She does soften Malfoy up in a way, doesn't she? I don't like that tosser, but I can't deny they make quite a sight together." She arched a brow when she noticed Hermione's grimace. "Why do you look so annoyed? You're the one who went off on me the last time I complained about him."

"I hardly went off on you," snapped Hermione. "I just said he had a right to be anywhere he wanted, which is not untrue."

"That may be the case," said Ginny. "But you can't deny that it was weird seeing you defend him."

Hermione sighed. "I wasn't defending him, Ginny," she said. "Can we not talk about this?"

"Want to tell me about your bloke instead?"

"Definitely not," said Hermione. Ginny scowled at her, but didn't press, which she was grateful for.

She could feel his gaze on her, like fire, hot on her back. She had to grip at her knees to anchor herself, fighting off the urge to look back at him. She didn't know if she'd be able to stop, if she started.

Involuntarily, when she was near him, her anger seemed to slip through her fingers - it'd wash over her like ocean water, then dry off as quickly as wet skin under the burning sun.

"Are you listening to me?" said Ginny, sounding amused.

"Of course I am," she lied. "I was just thinking that I need to go to the loo, so I'll be right back."

She ignored Ginny's suspicious look, then stood up, purposefully choosing the side that would keep her the farthest away from their table. Before she pushed open the door to the ladies' room, she chanced a quick glance in their direction.

Draco had his back to her, his shoulders set tight. But Daphne's sharp eyes were pinned on Hermione - she lifted her lips in a coy smile, and Hermione rushed through the door.

Inside, she locked herself into a stall and sat down, leaning back and letting her head hit the wall behind her. Not a bone in her body believed that if you wished for something, the universe would give it to you - but in that moment, Hermione closed her eyes and just hoped that when she walked out, they'd have gone home.

It didn't surprise her when she heard the sound of the door open, and heels clicking loudly against the tiles. There was no doubt in her mind who it was.

Hermione stalled, straining her ears for any indication that the coast was clear. Instead, there was nothing but piercing silence, and a glimpse of dark red heels in the crack between the door and wall. Might as well get this over with. She exhaled a deep breath and stood up, flushing the toilet.

When she stepped out of the stall, Daphne was leaning against the sink, her arms crossed over her chest and lips twisted in a smirk. Hermione kept her gaze on the mirror and turned on the tap, washing her hands. She ignored the eyes tracking her, drying her hands on a towel before walking to the door. Predictably, the knob didn't turn.

"Is this the point when I grab my wand?"

"Merlin," chuckled Daphne. "Do you understand the concept of diplomacy? Your first instinct is to duel?"

"There's nothing diplomatic about cornering someone inside of a loo," snapped Hermione.

"I just want to chat," she said appeasingly. "I won't take too much of your time."

"Do you understand the concept of asking?"

"I would've, if you hadn't locked yourself inside of the stall for five straight minutes," she said, pursing her lips. "But alas, I work with what I'm given."

"What do you want, Daphne?"

Daphne stepped away from the sink and closer to Hermione. "It's not my typical approach to be so straight-forward, but I've got a feeling that you don't like to play the guessing game, so I'll just come out and say it," she said coolly. "Are you and Draco together?"

Hermione's answer was immediate. "No." Daphne's smile grew. "You're his girlfriend."

"I am," nodded Daphne. "Which is why I wanted to know, because if you are together, then we'll have to do something about how absolutely careless you've both been-"

"I don't know what you're talking about, Daphne," she snapped. "And more than that, I don't know why you think that I'm going to stand here and let you interrogate me. I can easily take down your locking charm if I have to, but have the decency to do it yourself."

Daphne tipped her head back. "I see why he likes you," she murmured. "I'm not going to keep you if you don't want to be here." She took her wand out from inside her sleeve, then unlocked the door. "Listen, Hermione, I really just want to help. I'm not a bad person."

"I didn't say you were," muttered Hermione. The warmth in Daphne's eyes was successfully disarming her, and she wondered if it was intentional. "Shouldn't you have this conversation with him?"

"Except he's the most closed off wizard I've ever met?" she snickered. "And I'm my father's daughter, so I know when I'm not getting anything out of a man. They think witches are the experts at mind games, but they're the ones who invented the rules. And as much as I don't want to waste my energy on this, Draco is a good friend of mine."

Hermione swallowed audibly.

"You don't have to tell me anything," continued Daphne. "But I'll give you the same warning I gave Draco, and believe me, it comes from a good place."

"That's not necessary," said Hermione.

"Except it really is," she cackled. "Because you're not being subtle, Hermione. I've crossed paths with you twice, and even if I hadn't heard what you were saying, the way you were standing was enough to let me know you're more intimate than you'd like us to believe."

If she were being honest with herself, Hermione knew that she couldn't hide her feelings when she was around him. She didn't think Draco saw it, most of the time, so it surprised her how clear it seemed to be, for other people.

Or maybe Daphne was just too perceptive, too in tune with what was happening around her.

"We don't-" Hermione tried.

Daphne put a hand to stop her. "A rumor in the Wizarding world is never a rumor. It's a match, and it can set houses on fire," she said in a rough voice. "I fucking hate fires, and I fucking hate having to put them out." she paused. "Pardon my language."

The corner of Hermione's mouth twitched, and when she saw Daphne do the same, a giggle escaped. Soon, they were both laughing. Hermione pressed her hand to her mouth, but her eyes were crinkling at the corners.

Daphne's laugh burst out of her, loud and sort of scratchy, like it was clawing its way out of her throat, accompanied by snorts, which only amused Hermione further.

"Did you just apologize for cursing?" asked Hermione incredulously.

"Merlin, I know," sighed Daphne, rolling her eyes. "My deranged grandmother is turning in her grave right now, yelling herself hoarse that I'm ruining my family's reputation. You're not going to tell the Daily Prophet that a Greengrass behaves in such an unladylike manner, are you, Hermione?"

Hermione smiled. "I think they're much more interested about your epic romance with the bloke waiting for you at the table. Won't he be wondering where you went?"

"I don't think he's too concerned with where I am," she said, arching a brow. "Once a certain witch walked through the door, it's like I wasn't even there anymore."

"Maybe you should break up with him," said Hermione. "No girl should be treated like that."

Daphne waved a hand. "I don't mind," she said flippantly. "I don't need a bloke's attention to survive. It'd be nice if I didn't have to repeat everything I say, though."

Hermione bit her lip. "I should go, Ginny must think I died here."

"You should," she nodded. "But you also should talk to him. He's not in the best place, right now. He wouldn't tell me, and he's done a good job of hiding it, but I notice the little things. It's a witch's job to read her man, isn't it?"

Hermione looked at her skeptically. "I doubt that it is."

"It's what I was taught," said Daphne, "which is whatever, but I noticed, and he's not fine. If he was an adult, he'd just talk to you first, but he's not, so he won't. And even if I can't help but notice that you're far too good for him, he's still my friend-"

"Daphne," sighed Hermione.

"So I'll say it anyway," she went on. "If you really feel something for him, then talk to him. He's already impossible to be around when he's in a good mood. When he's like this? He's lucky I haven't hexed off anything important."

Liking Daphne was too easy, and she wanted to tell her that it wasn't her job to argue Draco's case for him. She was amazed that someone like her - wealthy, powerful, beautiful - would take the time that she could be using to meet with the Minister, or feed orphans, or cure cancer, to help a friend with one of his messes.

She wondered if Draco knew how lucky he was.

"You're a good one, Daphne," she settled for saying. She didn't linger, turning to head out of the loo.

When she opened the door and stepped back into the din of the main room, Hermione made sure not to look at Draco, even when she felt his eyes fixed on her. The photographer had left, and the restaurant had emptied somewhat, but she couldn't disregard Daphne's warning.

So she didn't look at him, not as she rushed to her seat, not as she made her excuses to Ginny and forced herself to be present throughout the meal, listening and trying to be a better friend than she usually was. She didn't look at him once in the half an hour that passed.

But she was still conscious of him, too in sync with this eerie pull between the two of them. So she noticed, against her own will, when he and Daphne began to stand up from their table.

And maybe she had already made the decision without realizing it, because she waited for Ginny to pause between sentences before rushing out. "Are you done with your food?"

"Oh yes," said Ginny, sounding confused. "Are you ready to go?"

"Yes, I think it's going to rain again," she said, leaning back from the table. Ginny frowned, but followed suit. When she turned away to put on her coat, Hermione dug out a quill and a slip of parchment from her purse.

"What are you doing?"

"Oh, I remembered something for work, so I'm writing it down before I forget," the lie left her lips easily. Hermione slipped the note inside her jacket pocket before Ginny could glimpse at its contents. "Let's go?"

"You're an odd one, Hermione," teased Ginny. "You're just plain odd. It's off-putting sometimes."

"You still haven't gotten used to it?" said Hermione good-naturedly. She looked over Ginny's shoulder to check if Draco was where she needed him - he was talking to the hostess, Daphne waiting a few inches away.

Hermione quickened her pace, brushing past Ginny and reaching the desk in a couple of strides. Once she was close enough, she roughly knocked her shoulder against his arm, feigning a startled gasp.

When Draco turned to her with a confused expression, she slipped the note inside his coat pocket. "I'm so sorry, I didn't see you there," she said loudly. He frowned at her, and she shot a pointed look at his pocket. "Are you okay? I didn't hit you on the head."

"I'm fine," he said, still looking confused. Then he looked from her to Daphne, who was biting off a smirk. "Look where you're going, Granger," he snapped, sounding weak.

"Do you want me to bow at your feet in apology, Malfoy?" said Hermione, conscious of Ginny's presence beside her.

"How about we don't start a scene in a restaurant?" said Daphne, approaching them. "She said sorry, Draco, and the bill's settled. So let's go."

Draco seemed reluctant - he looked at her down his nose, something in his eyes that looked like warmth, and longing. And something else. Something a little darker.

It made her want to crawl under his skin.

Hermione silently praised the restaurant's low lights for masking her flush.

"Congratulations on the engagement, Weaselette," said Draco, tearing his gaze away from her to Ginny, the hostility seeming more genuine.

"I have a name, ferret," snapped Ginny, her lips curling into a sneer. "Are you done harassing my friend? My fiancé is just a floo call away, and I bet we could arrange a cell in Azkaban for you."

Draco let out a low chuckle. "Threatening a wizard with jail time because he displeased you? Seems a little low for you. Or maybe your brother taught you that one. Does your entire family have to get by on one pathetic brain?"

"Oh, come on, Draco," snapped Daphne, pulling at his arm. "Congratulations on the engagement, Ginny. He meant it. I'm sure it'll be a beautiful wedding."

"I doubt that he did, but thank you," snarled Ginny. Daphne forcibly pulled Draco out the door, and Hermione exhaled a relieved sigh. She was glad the front desk was sufficiently far away from the rest of the restaurant that they hadn't attracted unnecessary attention. "I can't bloody stand that git."

Hermione turned to thank the hostess for the meal before gesturing towards the door. "You both reverted to your childhood selves right there," she said, trying to sound neutral.

"Do you think his congratulations were sincere?" said Ginny in an irritated tone. "And you were the one arguing with him before I showed up. He was looking down at you, Hermione."

"He's so much taller than me, I don't think he can do much else," said Hermione, pushing open the door. "But no, he probably wasn't being sincere, because Malfoy can be such a git, but-" She sighed. "We don't actually know him that well, do we? And it's been so long since school."

"Not that long," said Ginny, following Hermione out of the restaurant. The rain had stopped, but the heavy grey clouds suggested it wouldn't be long before they returned. "Once a Death Eater, always a Death Eater. And I don't care if Daphne Greengrass is stylish as heck and that her family likes to play neutral. If you're socializing with the likes of Malfoy, you're just as bad in my book."

Hermione felt her stomach turn sour. "You really believe that?"

Ginny shrugged. "You are who you surround yourself with." Hermione didn't say anything as they walked down the street. But inside, she was whirling - she refused to feel shame, but she felt more than a little fear.

She knew she couldn't keep her relationship with Draco secret forever. She wondered if she was ready to face the consequences, when it got exposed to the world. She wondered if he'd hold her hand through it.

But when she weighed it against the affection she felt for him, against the need that engulfed her whenever he was around, her fear didn't seem as overwhelming.

She could face Ginny, if she had to. She could face Harry and Ron, even. She could sit them down and make them understand, because she loved them, and they were hers to keep.

But Draco was incognito - she wasn't certain of much, when it came to him. And she wouldn't be sure until she looked him in the eye and refused to let him lie to her.

Muggle London was wholly overtaken by the storm that had been brewing since early morning. Raindrops splashed heavily against the pavement, and gusts of wind sent Hermione's hair into disheveled chaos, half of the curls sticking to her face while the rest fought to remain in the knot she'd tied them into.

She had apparated as close as she could, but despite her umbrella putting up a valiant battle, it had disassembled into a heap of wire and plastic by the time she reached Hatchards Piccadilly.

She looked around, cursing under her breath - there were few people on the street, but a staff worker had an open view of her through the storefront window. Drying herself magically would be too risky. So instead, she threw the mangled remains of her umbrella into a bin and stepped into the warmth of the bookstore, knowing she made a less than attractive sight.

"Can I help you?" greeted a young man in a strong Yorkshire accent. Hermione glanced at his name tag and smiled.

"No, thank you Doug, I know my way around the store," she replied. "Wait, actually. I'm meeting a friend here, I don't know if he arrived yet but he's kind of hard to miss. He's really tall, has platinum blond hair. Is probably wearing black?"

His face lit up with recognition. "Oh yes, he arrived about half an hour ago. Last I saw him, he was on the third floor."

"Thank you," she said, hastily smoothing down her sweater and arranging her curls around her shoulders.

Doug nodded, and Hermione began to make her way up the stairs. She'd visited the bookstore plenty of times - it had a comforting musty smell, and the books overcrowding the space felt like arms wrapping around her body. She skimmed a hand over the brown wooden railing as she made her way up, almost wanting to linger, pick up a novel or two.

But her heart wasn't in it - it had fallen into a relentless rhythm inside of her chest, and it beat faster the closer she got to him.

He wasn't hard to spot at all. The third floor was thankfully empty, except two teenage girls giggling under their breaths as they traded magazines. Hermione paused on the top step, her eyes pinned on the lone figure of the boy she wanted.

Draco lifted his eyes from the book he was holding, meeting her gaze from across the room. His lips curled into a hesitant smile.

And just like that, her anger vanished like a candle's flame.

She just wanted to be at peace with him.

End Notes: Thank you so much for the lovely reviews last chapter! This week will be a double update, as a thank you 3 next chapter will be up tomorrow.