Chapter Thirty-Three
Draco hadn't meant to eavesdrop on Hermione. It was nearing the end of the lesson and Sylvia had forgotten to grab a crystal stirring rod from the supply closet. Draco, seeing an opportunity to pass by Granger's table and check up on her, volunteered to go fetch the rod himself. He'd been angling toward her and her friends when Weasley appeared at the table looking shamefaced and uneasy. Changing his course smoothly for the supply closet, Draco found that he could hear every word of Weasley's bumbling apology. Ginny and Harry antagonized him every step of the way which Draco drew great amusement from. It was short lived as Hermione forgave him. Draco scowled, the crystal rod in his hand gripped tightly under white knuckled fingers.
He was in two minds about Hermione's acceptance of Ron's apology. He understood that forgiving the Weasel for practically accusing Granger of seeking out the trouble Blaise had brought upon her would help her heal and bring her friend group back together, but the fact still remained that Ron was unworthy of such reprieve. He had done everything his diminutive brain could cobble together to alienate her and make her jealous during a time when he should have been a supportive presence at her side. He had embarrassed her by flirting with women in plain view of her and for everyone to see, and he'd done his best to drive a wedge between she and Draco. Even Potter had thought it prudent to let the two of them work through whatever it was they were pursuing, wary yet trusting in his friend's judgement.
The reality was that it was really none of Draco's business who Hermione chose to forgive. He could just imagine the scowl on her face if Draco dared to try and persuade her otherwise. He smiled to himself. He liked making Hermione angry. Not face-punching angry, never that, he'd learned his lesson. Draco rubbed his nose unconsciously at the memory. Still the way she huffed and frowned and scolded him pulled at something inside of him that made him want to laugh and egg her on. What did this apology mean, though, for Ron and Hermione? Would they...get back together? The thought vanished the smile from his face and he left the supply closet only to see Hermione sitting beside Ron, helping him with the potion he'd most assuredly managed to ruin despite its simplicity. Draco was sure that the only reason Ron had succeeded thus far was sitting right beside him, reaching across him and sprinkling finely chopped herbs into his cauldron.
In a mood, Draco made his way back to his table. He sat down with much more force than was warranted and Sylvia and Phil both gave him confused looks.
"Get lost on the way?" Sylvia asked as she plucked the crystal rod from his grip.
Draco didn't answer, his eyes glued to where Ron and Hermione sat together. Ron was red in the face, features screwed tight in bewilderment as Hermione lectured him. A year or two ago this scene would bother Draco not at all, but today, right now Draco felt a fire burning in his stomach at the sight of it. He turned away, lips pressed tightly together.
xXx
Flich came to collect the three of them after class, waiting by the door in the hall scowling and mumbling to himself. Draco thought he heard the words "whip' and "cauldron". Thank Merlin Filch never got his way or half of the students left in his care might end up dead, or worse. "Follow me," He growled at them and made his hobbling way down the hall, elbowing students ungraciously out of his path and ignoring them when they called out. Instead of heading to the Dungeons like Draco had assumed, they made a beeline for the Muggle Studies classroom and upon entering saw Professor Hoosier waiting for them at his desk. He stood to greet them, tripping over his own two feet. Draco's eyes rolled up to the ceiling. He had to wonder how McGonagall could have possibly known how much he despised this man. What an apt punishment.
"Ah, hello, welcome!" Hoosier gestured to the empty seats. "Please have a seat, thank you Filch I've got it from here."
Filch glowered at all of them. Draco could hear his grumbling all the way down the hall, what with Professor Hoosier smiling at them awkwardly in silence, tripping his way to the front of the class as they took their seats. More silence followed as their professor shuffled through a stack of parchments.
"Ah, h-here it is, the assignment for your detention." He reached up and adjusted his glasses and proceeded to read from his parchment. "When Headmistress McGonagall approached me for the task of assigning a detention I thought it fitting that we read the wonderful work of Vera Brittain, a famous pacifist in Muggle English History." He looked over his parchment and smiled at them sheepishly. "Considering the circumstances of your, ah, detention." He continued reading. "Brittain's work Testament of Youth chronicles her journey as she…"
"I can't believe this," Sylvia grumbled quietly, allowing her bag to land with a thud on her desk. "We're reading about Muggle pacifists as a punishment for helping Granger not get assaulted."
" 'Helped' did you?" Draco whispered back. He was being petty, he knew, but his mood was still foul from witnessing Hermione helping Weasley in Potions and it was only further soured listening to Hoosier read verbatim from his notes. He kept seeing Hermione reaching across Ron, arm brushing his chest, kept seeing how easily the two of them had settled into their roles, their manner telling of the years and years they'd spent doing that very thing.
Instead of taking offence, Sylvia cut him a look, raising a perfectly plucked eyebrow. "What's got your knickers in a twist?"
"This isn't reason enough?" Draco said as Hoosier turned to pick up copies of the literature and pass them out.
Sylvia waited until their professor returned to his desk before she spoke. "Not enough for that amount of snark from you, not these days." She fingered her parchment and squinted her eyes at him. Draco didn't appreciate the scrutiny. "It's Granger, isn't it?"
Draco scowled. "Why must everything be about Granger? Contrary to your beliefs, Melville, not every man is obsessed with women." He lifted his parchment and straightened it with a sharp snap.
Phil and Sylvia looked at each other. "It's Granger," they said in unison.
"It's just—" Draco began with an exasperated sigh. "How can someone as smart as Granger continue to accept Weasley's vacuous behaviour time and again? How many times does he have to bollocks things up before she realizes he's no good for her?"
"To be fair," Phil began in gentle tones, "that's the same mindset that allows her to forgive you."
Draco grimaced, finding the statement annoyingly apt. He turned to Phil with a glare. "If you really want to anger me, please continue to compare me to Ronald Weasley."
Phil raised his hands in a placating manner. "I'm only stating the truth."
"Besides, Draco, you're deflecting," Sylvia said with a smirk. She pointed a finger at him. "The point is that you're upset about Granger and Weasley hooking back up."
"They're not—" Draco began before he realized what Sylvia was doing. He glared at the satisfied look on her face. "What do you want me to say? As a friend, it's hard to watch."
Sylvia laughed loud enough to draw Hoosier's attention.
He cleared his throat. "Please, children, settle down."
"Children?" Phil mouthed as they all shared a look.
"This is truly a punishment," Draco groaned, pressing his face into his hand.
"Draco, darling, sweetheart," Sylvia crooned, laughing still. "How about we do something extremely Hufflepuff and talk about our feelings for once, hm?" She was smirking at him but Draco could tell there was a genuine offer hiding behind the smugness.
He gave Sylvia a sly look. "Fine, but let us start with you first. Let's discuss how you're feeling about Blaise, how you've clearly lost sleep over it."
"Fine," Sylvia acquiesced. "But you can only deflect for so long Draco."
Draco nearly snorted. Sylvia had a lot to learn if she believed she had the capacity to persuade him to do anything he didn't want to do.
She sighed and her smirk faded as she sat thinking on what to say. "I will admit," she began at last, "to being upset about all of it. I know Blaise is a tool but he has moments where he can be really sweet and genuine. All of this," She waved a hand in the air as if to encompass everything that had happened, "is completely contrary to the Blaise I thought I knew. I feel like I've been betrayed and like I've betrayed myself by allowing myself to fall for someone I'd clearly misjudged."
Draco hadn't expected Sylvia to be so candid. He'd thought she was just trying to goad him into admitting something that wasn't there to admit. He placed a hand on her shoulder and she leaned into it, smiling sadly. "As McGonagall said we can't blame ourselves for the actions of others. Blaise fooled us all. But I understand what you mean." Draco frowned and shook his head. "I suppose I believed that everyone would feel as I did upon returning to Hogwarts, ready to let the past be the past and move on. It just doesn't make sense for Blaise to behave this way. Out of anyone he had the least stake in the war and yet he seems to be stuck in the very mindset that brought it all on."
Phil nodded, his hand rubbing over his chin as he listened. "Maybe it is less about the war and more about his friends. Or who he thought were his friends. Maybe he feels betrayed too."
Draco and Sylvia both rolled their eyes at this.
"No, I'm serious!" Phil protested, gaining momentum in his argument. "Think about it. From what I know, Blaise and his mother have walked the fence of things for years. We're all growing older and finding what it is we believe in. Blaise has to be experiencing the same. Maybe he thought he would find more support in the old ways. Coming to school and finding his most faithful friend had changed must have hit him in a way that we can't imagine."
"I hate when Phil gets empathetic and wise," Sylvia opined.
"Makes you question the Sorting Hats decisions," Draco agreed. "Loath as I am to admit it, Phil may be right. Still, it doesn't excuse his actions."
"Now it's your turn Draco, spill," Sylvia demanded, poking him in the shoulder with more force than was necessary.
"What do you want me to say?" Draco asked, exasperated all over again. "I just don't like that Hermione forgave Weasley so easily."
"That's understandable Draco, but it is obvious to anyone with eyes that what you feel for Granger goes beyond the concern for a friend. You like her," Sylvia prodded.
"Of course I like her," Draco said with an elegant shrug. "Why would I deign to spend so much time with her working on this Charm if I didn't find her company agreeable?"
"Is being deliberately obtuse a part of the new Draco Malfoy as well?" Sylvia snarked, poking him again. "You know what I mean. You want to be her boyfriend, date her, marry her even. Have little bushy-haired blondes running around with their noses stuck in books and getting into more trouble than one person should. Admit it."
Draco threw his head back and laughed, drawing Hoosier's attention yet again. Bushy-haired blondes? He couldn't imagine it.
Well.
Honestly he could. In fact the ease with which he could picture it all disturbed him. But surely that wasn't what he truly wanted. If someone had told him a year ago he would find himself laughing with Granger at his back as they flew on a broomstick together on their way to test out his Charm he would have dismissed them before they'd finished speaking! She was smart and funny, and witty to boot. She bolstered him when he was feeling down, was vulnerable despite their sordid past, trusted him when she had little reason to. It was the trust that she had in him that had pushed his tentative cordiality into something more veritable. Draco had felt safe opening up with her, not something he was used to. None of that meant that he liked her more than a friend. Did it?
"It would be a fine tale wouldn't it?" Draco said, his smile not as genuine as he'd want them to believe. "The cold hearted former Death Eater falls madly in love with the youngest Heroine of the Wizarding world." He chuckled and shook his head. "No, life is not as romantic as all that."
Phil cocked his head looking thoughtful. "It can be if you want it to. Look what you've accomplished so far. If anything, you've proven that life can be exactly how you want it to be if you're open to it."
Draco waved a dismissive hand. "We're simply working on a project together." When his friends shared another look, Draco relented. "If things should progress beyond that… Well, far be it from me to dissuade life's course."
Phil whooped and Sylvia practically cackled with glee at finally, finally getting Draco to disclose the truth of the matter.
Professor Hooseir stood up from his desk looking proper upset. A cup of quills spilled over his desk and his ink bottle wavered dangerously close to spilling too. "There will be a quiz on your reading, so I suggest you lot take this seriously!"
The three of them sniggered and began reading.
xXx
The talk with Sylvia and Phil had certainly given Draco food for thought. He'd gone throughout the rest of his day in a daze of sorts mulling over his reaction to Hermione and Weasley's make up in Potions. It did not help that Hogwarts, true to form, was ablaze with the news that the quarrelling two thirds of the Golden Trio were now a whole. Draco knew that it wasn't as simple as that. He knew that Weasley still had a lot of schmoozing to do before Hermione would fully forgive him, if she ever did, but the rumours were hitting on something inside Draco that had only come to the surface after talking with Phil and Sylvia.
Draco was jealous if he were being completely honest with himself, and it frustrated him. What did he have to be jealous of? Certainly not Weasley. If one were to set aside Draco's myriad foibles—which was a lot to ask of anyone, he knew—and looked at Draco for who he was today there could be no comparison. Where Weasley was bumbling and awkward Draco was the picture of grace and elegance. It was no secret that Ron struggled to maintain passing grades in school and everyone knew that he had Hermione to thank for his success thus far, but Draco excelled on his own merit. Some might find Weasley's dopey demeanour appealing in its transparentness, but Draco believed there was much to be said for subtlety. He didn't think Weasley possessed an ounce of decorum, choosing to wear his emotions on his sleeve for all to see.
And yet.
And yet Draco was only a recent addition to Hermione's acquaintances, and for all of Weasley's flaws, he had longevity. It was true Ron had fumbled the quaffle more times than Draco could count, but the fact remained that he had been there from the beginning.
"This is an exercise in futility," he murmured to himself as he made his way back to the Slytherin dorms. He'd excused himself early from dinner finding his appetite gone after witnessing Harry, Ron and Hermione sitting together at dinner. He'd thought to get a head start on some school work in the library, but even his favourite study spot held little appeal to him, and he found his concentration wandering yet again. Giving up on that idea Draco made his way back to the dorm hoping that maybe an early night in would do him some good. It seemed that fate had other plans for him.
He was just passing the dining hall when he bumped into the Golden Trio, Ginny firmly at Hermione's side as they shared a joke between them. As fate would have it he managed to knock into Weasley, who rounded on him with a smile that quickly evaporated upon realizing just who it was that had run into him.
"Malfoy," Weasley said with a sneer, his face quickly colouring into an alarming shade of red.
Harry gripped Ron by the arm in warning and the look on Hermione's expression was almost comical with worry. Ginny Weasley looked on with barely concealed concern, but she said nothing.
"My apologies, Weasley," Draco said graciously, deciding that diplomacy was the best policy. Truthfully he would welcome a good fight if only to dispel some of the pent up irritation that had dogged him throughout the day. But he had taken the high road thus far and he was loath to allow his annoyance at Weasley to get the better of him, especially in front of Hermione.
"Draco," Hermione said, her eyes dancing between him and Ron. "What are you doing here?"
He knew the question was most likely born of shock from finding Draco amongst her friends after only just reconnecting with Weasley, but it still threw him. He quickly regained himself. "Well," he said slowly, smiling down at Granger, eyebrow quirked, "I do believe I attend this school, Hermione, and have every right to roam the halls like everyone else." A jolt ran through his body at the use of her first name in the company of her friends. It felt daring, like a Wronski Feint, but it had its intended effect of further angering Weasley, and for that Draco could only smirk.
For her part Hermione was not impressed by Draco's pestering. "I'm well aware of your status as a student here, Draco." She wielded his name like a weapon, but Draco was pleased about its use nonetheless, for the simple fact that Weasley cut an incredulous look at his ex-girlfriend.
Hermione looked flustered and out of her depth and Draco felt a little guilty at being somewhat responsible for her state but it wasn't his fault that they'd run into each other. His intentions had not been malicious, he had just been just trying to eradicate his circuitous thoughts. He supposed he should find it funny that life had seen fit to put the objects of his consternation right in front of him.
"Let's leave these two to talk shall we?" Ginny interjected, grabbing hold of her brother's arm when he looked ready to protest. She neatly swept the group away despite the daggers Hermione threw her way. Draco did not miss the near Slytherin-like smirk Ginny threw back at her. The more time Draco spent around Ginny, the more he appreciated her spit-fire attitude.
To his surprise, anger was still writ large across Hermione's face when she turned to look at him. "Did you want something, Draco?" Her tone was clipped and cold.
He knew the attitude was not meant for him, most likely meant for Ginny who might have inadvertently made an already strenuous and tentative rekindling of friendship more fraught by dragging away all of Hermione's friends, including Ron (who was notoriously jealous notwithstanding the fact that two of them were no longer together), so she could have alone time with the object of Ron's most recent loathing. If Draco hadn't known her better, he could easily see Ginny's actions as intentional. He knew her anger wasn't for him, still it riled him.
He was confused, and he was frustrated about being confused. He was angry over things he had no business being angry over, for reasons he would not examine. After what he had heard earlier in Potions, and the talk with Phil and Sylvia putting ludicrous, brilliant, stupid thoughts in his head... And now this—
"What did you hear earlier in Potions?" Hermione asked, anger giving way to concern and something else that sounded a bit like suspicion.
Draco realized with a start that those last thoughts had left the safety of his mind to be spoken into reality. He stiffened, mortified. He was not the sort to ramble on unconsciously, he usually had better control over himself. It spoke volumes of the drastic changes he had undergone that when his brain finally sparked back to life he opted for truth, even if it had been wrangled from him by shock and sheer embarrassment.
"You must know I wasn't trying to pry," Draco said, looking down his nose at her, haughty with defensiveness. The day had been an incredibly crummy one start to finish and Draco had not missed the way Ron reached out to Hermione as if to reassure her, pulling back just before his hand touched hers. This, and his sour mood that had only just began to dissipate before this encounter, combined together making him more susceptible to his own emotions. "I was on my way to the supply closet, and while I was in there I…" Here he grew sheepish, his shoulders which had been rigid with tension, drooping. "I heard everything. Weasley's lacklustre apology and your acceptance of it." Draco scowled, his irritation coming through again as he spoke. "I must agree with Potter and Ginny, Weasley doesn't deserve your forgiveness, not after what he has done." Draco could tell instantly that he had gone too far by the look on Hermione's face. He'd known as he had spoken that he shouldn't say what he was saying, but he just couldn't help himself, venting his frustration much like Hermione.
Hermione crossed her arms over her chest, the gesture putting a proverbial distance between them. "Of all people, Draco, I thought you would understand why I forgave him." The words hit Draco like a slap across the face and he took an involuntary step back. "I'm sick of this, sick of everyone questioning me, thinking they know what's best for me. Why can't you trust me enough to trust my decisions? I can't—I can't…" She started to back away, her face crumbling as she shook her head.
"Hermione, wait," Draco reached out to grab her arm and stop her, but she whirled away from him, a manic look in her eyes, and he knew she was back to that night, back to the alley where she had been attacked. He frowned, his eyes sad and full of regret. "Hermione, I'm sorry, please…" His voice was pitched low, calming, and he raised his hands to show that he wouldn't grab her again. "Just don't leave, not like this. I'm sorry, please…"
They stood there staring at each other across the space between them. When Hermione looked less like she was going to bolt Draco took a hesitant step forward, but before he could say anything more Sylvia and Phil burst out of the dining hall, laughing and jostling each other before coming to a sudden halt, spotting Draco and Hermione.
"Sorry to interrupt, we were just heading back to the—" Phil began before Hermione cut him off.
"No, it's alright," she said somewhat unsteadily, then she visibly collected herself. "You three have a good night." She turned to Draco. "Draco." She nodded, and turned away.
Although the look in her eyes wasn't as stony as it had been, Draco didn't like how they didn't meet his. He had half a mind to go after her, to apologize until she had no choice but to forgive him, but he knew that would not go over well. And so he watched her go, his chest tight and his face warm as his mind whirled with unspoken words and a maelstrom of emotions he wasn't equipped to deal with.
"Draco…" Sylvia said, far too gently for Draco's taste. As if he were something fragile, something that would break at the slightest bit of pressure.
"Don't," he said when she touched his shoulder, and she drew back, frowning.
"Don't be like that Draco, Sylvia was only trying to help," Phil said, taking a step forward. "It's been a long day. I say we should all head to bed, hm?"
He was doing it again, trying to be the peacemaker and smooth everything over. Draco didn't have the patience for it, but he said nothing as the two of them led the way, Draco hanging back as he tried his best to sort through the storm inside him.
xXx
Hermione sat next to Ginny at dinner that night, Harry and Ron across from them, eating and laughing like everything was perfectly normal. From the outside things must appear that way, after all, Ron was acting like nothing at all had happened—aside from his causal comments about Violet as he talked with Harry. Hermione wasn't sure if Ron brought the girl up because he was trying to act like he was over his breakup with her in a good way or a bad way. He had been trying to be overly nice to her since potions class, holding doors, and shouting at a second year who accidentally bumped her in the hallway on the way to the Great Hall—as if he were her champion once more, but still, hearing Ron chatter on to Harry about how he was trying to think up a creative date idea so that Violet would go out with him again was still annoying. Hermione shook her head. It was none of her business any more. She wanted Ron to find his own happiness, just like she—
Hermione blinked, shaking herself out of her thoughts. Where had her mind been going with that thought? Was Draco the key to her happiness? They still argued enough for her to question that thought, but still… The way he tried so hard to improve himself, not just for her, but because he truly wanted to better himself… The way he smiled, really smiled—not the smirk that was so commonplace on his lips—when he was pleased about something and let his guard down for a moment. The way he treated her as if she were both strong as an Amazon warrior and at the same time, was gentle enough that she might be made of spun sugar… She wondered if she really deserved to seek out a relationship with this boy who was less a teenager and more a man with every passing day.
And yet…
Dinner ended and Hermione followed Harry and Ron out of the hall, Ginny's arm looped through her own as she finished telling Hermione about how Lavender had attempted a complicated hairstyle spell and ended up making herself bald. It had taken three potions and a loud lecture from Madam Pomfery to return her to normal, and she'd spent the rest of the day continuously running her fingers through her long, thick hair, making sure it was still there. Hermione was still giggling at the image of Lavender bald as a cueball, when she heard Ron grunt ahead of her, his lanky form knocking against another tall boy who was passing.
The grin on Ron's face, born from his clear eavesdropping on Ginny's tale, evaporated when the twist of his body revealed Draco to be the culprit who'd run into him. The run-in hadn't been hard enough to be malicious, it was clearly accidental, especially taking into account the distracted look on Draco's face—though that look faded with Ron's sneering of Draco's name. Hermione pulled up short, feeling her heart lurch at Ron's automatic reaction. But before she could shout at him that "hadn't he just said that he'd lay off Draco in class an hour ago?" Harry gripped Ron's arm in warning, and Ron snapped his mouth shut, possibly remembering the same declaration he'd made. Still, Hermione felt tension singing through the air between the boys, vibrating like a plucked wire. She glanced between them, praying nothing would come of their interaction.
Then Draco apologized.
She stared in surprise for a heartbeat, before he met her eyes, and then she blurted out the first thing that came to mind. "What are you doing here?" To be fair, she hadn't seen him since potions, too busy with Ron's constant nervous chatter, as if he had to make up for all the time he'd spent not talking to her lately. It was a ridiculous comment, but she hadn't been able to think of anything else to say in the moment.
Draco's distracted expression morphed into a more familiar one: amused exasperation. "…I do believe I attend this school, Hermione," he commented blithely, his tone almost teasing, but she didn't hear much of whatever else he'd said, she was too busy being fixated on the fact that Draco had called her "Hermione" in front of her friends.
She didn't know why the thought should shock her so—over the past few weeks they'd started to become more comfortable with calling each other by their given names more often than their surnames after all—but even though Hermione had used Draco's name herself when speaking with Ginny in private, or yelling at Ron, or even with him in exasperation, it was somehow something else entirely for him to be so familiar with her in public. Had he merely done it to get a rise out of Ron? She could sense Ron going rigid at her side, and hoped Harry hand't loosened his hold yet. On her other side, Hermione could sense a second expression on Ginny's face, and resolutely refused to look her way, unable to bare the knowing look her friend would be giving her.
Hermione rolled her eyes at Draco. "I'm well aware of your status as a student here, Draco," she snapped back, using his name deliberately, half to annoy Ron herself—since he'd first annoyed her with his reaction, and half to chastise Draco, in case he'd done the same thing. And, of course, it was that moment that Ginny decided it was time to leave. Only she also decided not to take Hermione with her.
For a brief, wild moment, Hermione was seized with the urge to just turn tail and run down the hallway after Ginny. It wasn't that she didn't want to talk to Draco, she did actually, but not standing there in the entrance hall where the doors to the dining hall might open at any moment, spilling out any number of people who would just love to find fresh gossip to spread around the castle. Annoyed at being pushed into this conversation without having had a chance to be alone and mentally prepare for it, and frustrated with the way Ron had reacted to Draco's innocent—for once—interaction, Hermione zeroed in on the frown now creasing the Slytherin boy's face, something clicking in her brain.
"What did you hear earlier in potions?" she demanded.
It seemed almost laughable that Draco should have attempted to pick a fight with Ron the very evening she'd made up with him. Surely he wasn't that petty any more. Especially after the whole showdown with Blaise being lead away, but the tightening of Draco's expression made doubt creep into her heart. When he voiced his belief that she shouldn't have taken Ron back as a friend she felt hurt squeeze her chest. Yes, Ron was brash, and jealous, and talked before he thought more often than not, but she'd seen the genuine pain in his eyes as he'd stumbled through an apology, and the relief that shone out afterwards, now that they were friends again. Draco didn't know Ron like she did. Anger surged inside her, and Hermione glared at Draco, feeling a distance grow between them with his words. Why couldn't he understand why she still trusted Ron, why she could still love him as a friend despite everything he'd done? Hadn't she given Draco himself the benefit of the doubt? Abruptly she felt exhausted and overwhelmed. Why was it so bloody difficult for her to be friends with these two boys?
"…Why can't you trust me enough to trust my decisions?" she cried, glaring hard so that the tears that threatened were forced back. She had wanted so much to tell him how she had appreciated the way he'd stood up for her in potions, talked down the gossipers and nearly duelled Blaise a second time, and then he had to come and say this? To act like he knew better than she did the workings of her mind and heart?
She took a step back, starting to turn away, mind a blur of unsaid words, feeling her body tremble with suppressed emotion—part anger, part frustration, part sadness that life was so bloody hard. When she saw a hand reaching for her out of the corner of her eye, Hermione felt her body jerk harshly away from it, nearly tripping over her own feet as she lurched back. For a split second Blaise's face was superimposed over Draco's, the castle corridor was was replaced with the stone alleyway in Hogsmeade, and Hermione felt the ground sway beneath her as she gasped in fright.
Instantly Draco's hands pulled back, his face smoothing from frustration into startled shock as he realized he'd frightened her. He was immediately full of apologies, his grey eyes locked onto her face, his voice low and soothing. She closed her eyes for a moment, steadying her racing heart, her fingers knotting themselves into the fabric of her robes. She had to get a hold of herself. She couldn't react this way for the rest of her life. And yet, she couldn't help it. Her heart pounded behind her ribs and she struggled to pull in a full breath, air seeming to catch in her chest every time she inhaled.
Staring up into Draco's concerned face, Hermione tried to find the words to apologize for her overreaction, and yet, she was still upset with him for what he'd said. What was it that Ron had said all those years ago? Something about feeling so many things a person was likely to explode? Maybe he'd been on to something back then after all. She hovered in the middle of the hallway, still feeling like any sudden movement could startle her into flight, while across from her Draco stood awkwardly, attempting to calm her down with placating words, eyeing her as if he knew exactly what she was thinking. He took a slow step toward her, hands still raised to show he wouldn't reach for her without permission, and Hermione bit her lip, still undecided about whether or not she wanted to stay and finish their conversation.
The opening of the doors to the Great Hall decided things for her. With the sudden arrival of Draco's friends Hermione took the coward's way out, turning and all but fleeing down the corridor with barely time to mutter a semi-polite farewell.
She could hear Phil and Sylvia start to talk in low voices, but didn't wait to hear what it was they were saying. She could feel tears break free and start to fall down her face as she nearly ran into an empty classroom, shutting the door quickly behind herself before sliding down it and leaning against the wood, knees drawn up against her chest. Embarrassment flooded through her as she fought not to sob. She hadn't meant to react that way to Draco, he was probably offended—or worse, hurt. Then again, he had seemed to realize he'd made a misstep too, for his apologies had been sincere. And had she apologized, too? No, Hermione had bolted like a rabbit into its burrow. And Draco hadn't come after her.
Then again, why should he? He'd made a mistake and she'd blown him off right in the middle of his apology. She dropped her head onto her knees with a sigh. She'd made up with one friend only to alienate another. Gathering herself together she opened the classroom door and headed back toward Gryffindor Tower.
#
Ron and Harry were lounging on one of the couches by the fireplace when she came in, they waved her over, making space between them, and Hermione walked toward them in a daze, still caught up in the look in Draco's eyes when she'd jerked away from him. Without thinking, she curled up on the cushion they'd availed to her and dropped her head onto Harry's shoulder, her feet slipping under the edges of Ron's legs. After a minute or so of silence, Ron cleared his throat and she lifted her head to look over at him.
"Er, sorry about earlier," he said sheepishly, and Hermione frowned before realizing what he was talking about. "Old habits and all that."
"It's ok," Hermione said softly, thinking about her own treatment of Malfoy after Ron and the others had left. "I understand."
"No, really," Ron said, pulling a little away from her so that Hermione was forced to sit up and look at him. "I've been a… well, a jerk to you these past weeks. And even if Malfoy usually deserved it, you didn't." He paused, reaching up to rub the back of his neck. "And…er…" He paused to clear his throat. "I guess he didn't tonight either. I mean, he actually sounded like he meant it when he apologized." Ron sounded confused, as if his new reality didn't match up with life as he'd always known it. "I'm sorry, Hermione, really. I don't deserve to have you take me back as a friend. I still don't know why you did." His face was so serious that Hermione startled when Harry cleared his throat behind her. She'd forgotten he was there.
"Er, maybe I should go?" Harry suggested, starting to get up, but Hermione reached out and caught his arm, holding him back.
"No, it's ok, Harry," Hermione heard herself say automatically, but Harry gently removed her hand.
"You two need to talk," he said diplomatically, and got up from the couch, leaving Hermione and Ron by themselves. Neither one of them said anything for a long minute, listening to the fire hiss and pop in the grate.
"You broke my heart in a lot of ways these past weeks," Hermione said at last, her voice soft as she watched the fire. Ron shifted next to her, not quite touching her, though she could feel his gaze on her. She kept her eyes on the flames. "It hurt most that you didn't believe me, after everything we've been through." She finally looked at him. "I didn't seek out a friendship with Draco to hurt you, Ron, it was a surprise to me too." She paused, giving him a meaningful look. "It you'll recall, we weren't close at first either. In fact, I seem to remember you saying I was a nightmare." She lifted an eyebrow and Ron cringed.
"I was eleven!" he protested. "Give a bloke a break." Then he caught the faint amusement in her eye and the hint of a grin brushed his face. "I was a bit of a git back then," he said, as if admitting an embarrassing youthful indiscretion.
"Are you saying you think you've grown out of it?" Hermione demanded, frowning at him, and Ron flushed.
"Er, maybe not precisely?" he offered, and she allowed the barest hint of a smile to pass her lips.
Hermione shook her head, a huff of amusement puffing past her lips as she did so. She regained her composure a moment later. "All friendships take time to form, Ron, this one took more time than most. But its existence doesn't mean I don't value the friends I had first. You and Harry and Ginny are the most important people in my life. But I need faith and trust in order to keep our relationship alive. You may not be my boyfriend anymore, but I would like to think you're still a special part of my life."
"Hermione, you're too forgiving of people who have wronged you," Ron started to say, and Hermione felt her mouth drop open, about to give him a whole speech on not judging Malfoy for past sins, but then he went on. "I was an asshole to you," he interrupted her before she could get a word out, a wry look on his face. "That's not to say that I'm not grateful for your benevolence," he added, a faint grin crossing his features as he spoke, gone almost as soon as it had appeared, "but you really ought to make me work for it a bit more."
Hermione heard the teasing in Ron's words, but they were underscored with sincerity. "Oh, trust me, Ronald Weasley," she retorted primly, "grovelling and eternal servitude are only the beginning of the ways you'll make things up to me."
Ron grinned fully, then became solemn. He reached out and gently squeezed her hand, catching her eye and then holding her gaze. "For real though," he said in a low voice, "I want to offer you an honest apology for ever doubting you. You've always known your mind and followed your heart. You've never betrayed anyone in your life." He hesitated, colour rising in his pale face as he looked down, breaking eye contact. "Not like me."
Hermione took in the way Ron hung his head, his lanky body bent as if under a great strain. He dropped her hand, withdrawing his fingers as if he didn't deserve to touch her. She watched him in the firelight for a long moment, remembering the awful words and accusations, the way he'd shut her out of his life, only deigning to acknowledge her in order to say something hateful… Then she remembered the good times: visiting the Burrow during holidays, studying—or rather 'tutoring' Harry and Ron—together, long evenings in the common room, and the scattered, stolen moments when Ron had been truly sweet and romantic during their brief time together. It wouldn't be the same as before, it couldn't be. But Hermione refused to allow bitterness to consume her. Her heart needed healing too much.
Slowly she reached out and placed a hand over Ron's. He tensed, then lifted his head an inch to gaze at her from under his hair. "Thank you for apologizing," she said quietly. Ron pressed his lips together into a thin line, silent and waiting, giving her only a brief nod. "I really needed to hear that."
"Do you…" Ron began, voice so low she almost couldn't hear it. "Do you think you can ever forgive me?"
Hermione felt tears fill her eyes and her smile was watery as she answered him. "Yes, Ron. Life is too short to hold on to the bad parts."
It was unclear then which one of them moved first, but suddenly they were hugging, Ron clumsily pulling Hermione into his chest as she flung her arms around his neck, sniffling into his shoulder. It was awkward but somehow warm, just like their friendship had always been, and Hermione knew that they would be able to get past this eventually. While Ron rubbed her back, overly concerned about why she was suddenly crying, Hermione let out a watery laugh, hugging him tighter once more, before pulling back and wiping her eyes.
"It's been a long day, Ron," she said at last, fiddling with her robes and feeling a little awkward still. "I think I'll head up to bed."
"Ok," Ron replied, a hesitant smile on his face as he watched her get up from the couch. "Goodnight, Hermione."
She gave him a hesitant smile back. "Goodnight." And then she made her escape to her dorm room and the comfort and peace of her fourposter bed.
xXx
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