I just wanted to thank all of you for continuing to read this and for your encouraging words. I honestly don't think there's anything better than this community. {heart}

Chapter 31 – What Ifs

Monday, February 8

Hermione

Hermione glanced nervously over her shoulder. He wasn't here yet. She tried to steady her breath.

She'd been walking through life in a daze for the last 48 hours.

First Ron, then Draco.

Ron still wouldn't look at her. She'd almost tried to talk to him on Sunday in the common room. But just as she approached him, she realized he'd been right. Well, sort of. She thought it went a bit far to say that she fancied Draco. But she didn't think she could bring herself to tell him they'd kissed. She didn't see how she could talk to him about the whole situation without mentioning that. A lie by omission was still a lie. So, she'd continued to avoid him. Plus, she was angry for the way he'd yelled at her. And she was sad that everything with their tentative friendship had imploded so quickly.

Maybe he was right. Maybe they were only good at fighting.

She felt her throat burn at the thought before hearing the door bang open. Before she could look over her shoulder for the 17th time, the chair beside her pulled out and Draco sat down.

She held her breath.

No one taught you how to act after someone you spent seven years hating and then half a year forgiving and befriending decided to up and kiss you and you ran away like a coward.

Perhaps Harry and Ron had been right all along. Maybe they should teach a class about navigating romantic relationships.

"Granger."

She looked over at him and tried to send him her most casual smile. She hummed in greeting but he'd already turned to his bag, taking out his notes and gloves.

He'd shaved.

Her neck remembered the way his stubble had tickled it.

She shivered.

It had been a really exceptional kiss.

She swallowed as her hands remembered the way his arms had felt under her hands.

Professor Sprout was telling them they'd have the period to plan for their project.

Draco cleared his throat.

How long had she been not listening?

The classroom was a buzzing with conversation now.

Draco was arranging his research on the worktable and explaining how he thought they should arrange their project.

As he reached across the table to point out part of the outline, she caught the scent of his shampoo. Woodsy. Very piney. It reminded her of the Christmas tree her dad would always pick for them. She had an insane urge to lean forward and inhale deeply.

Her nose remembered the way he'd smelled on Saturday. Mustier. She reminded herself sarcastically that it was probably just the sweat. Annoyingly, her body didn't seem to be particularly offended by that revelation.

She nodded along to what he was saying. She could find no fault with any of his planning or research. He'd even gone so far as to talk to Professor Slughorn who said if their project was successful and produced potions worthy ingredients, he'd give them extra credit.

"So, what do you think, Granger?"

She nodded enthusiastically. Probably too enthusiastically. "It's great, Draco. Really great. I'm… really impressed."

He chuckled lightly. "I don't know if I should be flattered or insulted. It's just basic preparation. We have lest then 20 weeks left. There's really a lot of work to do."

"Yes! That's what I've been telling R—It's just nice to work with someone who understands." She glanced over her shoulder where Ron was working with Dean. His gaze landed on her for a moment before flickering to Draco and then resolutely staring down at his desk.

She groaned internally.

This was all so screwed up.

. . .

"What is going on with you and Ron?" Ginny demanded at dinner that night.

Hermione choked on her water.

"He's been ignoring you and glaring at you for the past few days. I thought you guys had worked it out. It seemed like he was okay with being friends."

Hermione shrugged.

"Did you guys have a row?"

Hermione shrugged again and reached for her fork.

Ginny grabbed it out of her hand.

"No. No dinner until you tell me what's going on." Ginny snapped her fingers in front of her face. "Something's up. You're not acting like yourself. You're all… quiet and jumpy."

Hermione glanced around. She thanked whatever deities existed that they were sat at the far end of the table where few older students tended to congregate.

A couple of Second Year girls were looking at them curiously. Ginny sent them a withering glare and they scooted away several feet. Ginny was the kind of popular girl that was nice and friends with everyone but also deeply terrifying.

"May I eat now?" Hermione asked.

"Tell me what's going on with you and my brother." Ginny handed her the fork back.

"He is mad at me."

Ginny rolled her eyes. "Well, yes, that much is clear. Any idea why? Or is this like Sixth Year when he got his panties in a twist over you kissing Krum?"

An old flame of anger burned in the background of her mind. "Is that why—"

Ginny waved her hand. "It's not important."

"Why do you even care? You hate him half the time anyway," Hermione grumbled, stabbing at her potatoes with unnecessary force.

"I care because I'm bored without Harry here. And If I have to start walking around on eggshells between the two of you, I may drop out too."

Hermione glared at her. She wouldn't dare. "Apparently I cheered too aggressively during the match on Saturday."

Ginny studied her. Hermione could practically see her working out all the pieces. Confusion turned to recognition and back to confusion. Then on to resignation, annoyance, and finally curiosity.

"So, he's jealous?"

Hermione choked again. "How did you come to that conclusion?"

Ginny sighed heavily. "Honestly, you're as bad as those two boys. Not having any girlfriends really did you a disservice. He was always a little hurt that you never cared much about Quidditch. But he understood. It wasn't your thing. He respected it. I think he thought it might change once you started dating, but you still didn't care. I think he was disappointed but knew it wasn't personal. Or at least thought. But now… Now you finally care about Quidditch, only it's for someone else."

"Well, that's just ridiculous."

"Is it?" Ginny asked, studying her.

"Martha is my friend. She's one of the only people who plays Quidditch who seems like they care an equal amount about their studies. Of course, I was cheering for her."

"I'm not talking about Martha."

Hermione knew she wasn't.

"Well, I still don't care about Quidditch. You two are the ones always droning on about strategy and the players and everything. God forbid I finally start paying attention and be interested in the 'best seeker since Harry.'"

"Sure. And Strombull was the only Slytherin to which you were paying attention." Ginny raised an eyebrow.

"if you're referring to Dr—"

"OF COURSE, I'M TALKING ABOUT MALFOY!" The girls nearby them looked over in alarm and curiosity. Ginny glared at them. They returned to their food. She lowered her voice to a whisper. "So, Ron's not supposed to be jealous that the first time you're invested in one of his favorite pastimes is when his arch enemy gets involved?"

Hermione scoffed. "That's—That's not at all what this is."

Ginny pushed her steak around on her plate thoughtfully.

Hermione tried to eat quickly, praying they wouldn't get any nearer to the subject she was trying desperately to avoid.

"It'd be okay if it was though," Ginny said softly. "Well, at least with me."

Hermione scoffed but could have almost cried. Ginny was unyielding in her loyalty and friendship.

"I was under the impression everyone was already okay with our friendship," Hermione said defiantly.

Ginny studied her before draining her glass and making to stand up and leave. "Yeah, okay, Hermione. Well… you know where to find me if you ever want to talk about it. Ron or your friend."

Sunday, February 21

Draco

Maybe he should just drop out.

How bad could Azkaban really be now that the Dementors were gone? It would only be two and a half years.

Granger had been essentially ignoring him in every sense except being project partners since he'd kissed her.

If he wasn't so embarrassed, he'd be able to focus on how adorable it was how much she was coming alive with their project.

So, he just sat there next to her in the library while she organized their outline, trying not to think about how fucking cute she was and how much her hair smelled like tangerines and how much he just wanted to fucking die.

For the past few days, he'd tried to pinpoint the moment when his curious interest and attraction had turned into an obsessive and desperate crush.

He tried not to think about how many people seemed to know about it. Theo was positively giddy these days. He knew better than to make fun of Draco outright. He'd likely told Pansy because she'd been particularly smug lately. Ginny Weasley certainly knew something. Every time she came to say hello to Granger, she gave him a knowing look. And the Other Weasley had barely talked to Granger in the last two weeks.

How would Draco know this, you might ask? Well because he was absolutely fucking obsessed and lived and died on her every breath and social interaction. It was maddening and pathetic and absolutely exhilarating.

Maybe Weasley was the reason why she'd so resolutely ignored the kiss. Draco had heard he'd broken up with her. Maybe he found out and had dumped her and she was heartbroken over it. They'd always been living in a space somewhere between friendship and romance. It was only a matter of time before he forgave her. Draco had long been disgusted by the way Weasley's eyes had followed Granger around the castle. Like she was his. Like she was the natural happy ending to his story.

Like she could actually thrive in some world like that.

Draco cringed internally at the image of Granger balancing two red headed faceless children on her hips.

He might actually be sick.

He focused back on the complicated pruning process of aconite and wondered vaguely how much he would have to ingest to get sick enough to be sent to St. Mungo's but still survive the affair.

Friday, February 26

Draco

Mandy had been blabbering on about some American potions master for what seemed like ages.

This. This is why he wasn't friendly.

Their session had concluded, and she'd caught him eyeing a rare potions book on her desk. He'd asked where she'd gotten it (to be polite and also because he wanted a copy for himself). She'd launched into the story of her life and her school mentor who she claimed to be a superior potions master to anyone in the Western world. He amused himself with the look on Snape's face if he witnessed Draco defending his "honor."

There was a knock at the door.

Fuck.

She'd been talking for so long that Draco missed his window of opportunity to escape the therapy hall before Granger turned up for her appointment.

They were only required to come see Mandy every three weeks now, as long as they used the other sessions' times to do something for themselves in the vein of mental or physical well-being. Most students had blatantly ignored this or stretched the new rule's spirit to the extremes. Draco loved Firewhiskey as much as the rest of them but didn't think knocking several back could be considered "mentally unwinding," at least not in the spirit in which Mandy had intended.

Granger was always early to her session. Every week when he left Mandy's office, she was there on the bench in the hallway scribbling furiously or reading some massive book.

He hadn't had to have this awkward interaction since The Incident. He'd planned it carefully. He'd showed up early that day and made sure to be friendly and talkative (or at least more than a rock) so that Mandy might not mind if he escaped early.

So much for that.

Granger greeted Mandy like they were old friends, hugging and scooting her way into the office.

He begged her silently to act natural.

She did not.

She practically squeaked when she saw him, whispering "Hello" and his name and "how are you doing today, I'm fine, just really looking forward to the weekend, did you have a good session, oh sorry, that's personal" in one breathy second.

Mandy looked intrigued though he gave her credit for being professional to hide it as well as she did.

Draco bade them both goodbye and slumped back to his dormitory, imagining all the things Granger was telling Mandy about him now.

Really, Azkaban couldn't be that bad.

Saturday, March 6

Hermione

Hermione sat awkwardly in the chaos of the post-win Gryffindor common room.

The party had been raging for hours.

She'd been so agitated all day that she didn't know what to do with her nervous energy. She didn't know if she should even go to the game. She and Ron still hadn't said more than a few words to each other since the last game. She didn't want to distract him by going or bring up anything. But she wanted to be there for Gryffindor to win and to see Ginny's first and (likely) only game as captain. Ultimately, she went and had a wonderful time with Neville and Luna and aggressively cheered on her house and all players involved, thankyouverymuch.

She'd wanted to march right up to Ron and shove her Gryffindor sweater the lion Luna had painted on her cheek in his face. But she was more mature than that and he looked very happy and relaxed, lounging with the other boys from their year.

She wished she was in the group he was making laugh.

She resigned to make up with him this week.

She didn't know what she'd do about the whole kissing nonsense.

She cracked open the Butterbeer someone had placed on her table to replace the empty one.

Maybe she could claim that he'd tripped and landed on her mouth. That was the excuse her mother's ER doctor friend said people used whenever they did something embarrassing.

But what if he did it again… Her subconscious had been throwing out all of these annoying little "what if" scenarios for the past several weeks.

What if they hadn't been interrupted? What if he'd done it while they were in Australia, all dressed up? What if they were the last two in the library one night? What if he grabbed her hand from a hidden alcove and dragged her into his body and—

She slammed the book she was reading shut. It was by an author she adored and was a historical fiction which was her guilty pleasure. They rarely lived up to her accuracy standards, but she enjoyed them all the same. But this time, the author had snuck in some very heated romance scenes which she had not expected. She blamed the book for her wild imagination of late.

She'd have to come up with a better excuse than Draco tripping and falling. Ron wasn't an idiot.

Honesty is the best policy. Best to tell the truth.

She was single, after all. She was at perfect liberty to kiss any boy she wanted. Her subconscious reminded her that Draco Malfoy was hardly "any boy."

She glanced up. Ron was singing along to a chorus of "Weasley is Our King."

This was it. He was absolutely never going to speak to her again. She groaned and fisted her hands in her hair.

Ginny plopped down next to her after a while.

"Ahhhh good party."

Hermione groaned.

"What's up with you?" Ginny asked.

"I'm trying to figure out how to make up with Ron," Hermione grumbled.

"About bloody time. Harry said he won't come visit next weekend if you two aren't speaking. You know how he refuses to get in the middle."

Hermione didn't know if it was the Butterbeer or the stress threatening to consume her, but she just couldn't keep it in any longer.

"Well, you'd better let him know not to come, because Ron will definitely NEVER speak to me when he finds out that Draco kissed me."

Ginny literally spit her drink out like in the movies.

"HE DID WHAT?" She shouted. Several people around them looked on in alarm.

Hermione shushed her and hid her face.

Ginny dragged her by the sweater up to her room and pushed her down on the bed.

"Talk," she ordered. "Now."

She stared down at Hermione with such a Mrs. Weasley expression that Hermione didn't even consider trying to resist.

"It was after the match. Ron had just stormed off after yelling at me about cheering too much. I was just standing there trying not to cry when the Slytherin team all came out of the locker rooms. Draco stopped to talk to me. I told him he'd played well, and it was cheering me up to see him so happy and proud. And then all of a sudden he was tucking my hair behind my ear and kissing me!"

Hermione buried her face in her hands again.

It felt good to let it out into the world. It had been eating her alive.

She looked up at Ginny who was staring at her open mouthed.

"Well? Was it good?" She demanded.

"What! That's what you want to know?" Hermione said, staring at her with disbelief.

"Um, yeah. It sort of shapes the whole scenario from here on out," she said matter-of-factly.

Hermione knew her face just had to be the same color as her sweater. "I just don't see how it's relevant."

Ginny rolled her eyes and spoke very softly, as though she was a fragile child. "Well, Hermione, if it was good, then you tell Ron that you're snogging Draco Malfoy and he will just need to get over it. If it wasn't, no reason to even tell him. Actually, no reason to tell him anything right now. It's none of his damn business who you snog. I mean eventually, you'll probably have to unless you want to have a secret relationship."

Hermione stared at her blankly. "We're not SNOGGING. We kissed. Once. He kissed me. And besides, we haven't spoken of it since. There will be no secret relationship."

Ginny narrowed her eyes at her. "What do you mean 'you haven't spoken of it since?'"

Hermione shrugged. "We haven't."

"Well then what the hell are you doing with him all the time? You're practically attached at the hip these days!"

Hermione was outraged and embarrassed. And far too buzzed to be having such a conversation with the most perceptive and nosy person she knew. "We're study partners. We're working on the Herbology NEWT project. We happen to have an outrageous amount of research and planning to do before we can even convince Professor Sprout to give us aconite seeds to start growing. And Draco is a very good study partner. He can actually focus and doesn't need my help every other minute. It's quite refreshing."

"Hermione…." Ginny drew out her name. "Are you telling me you've just been ignoring the situation this whole time? I mean, honestly, what did you do, run away or something?"

Hermione nodded ever so slightly, and Ginny groaned.

"Why would you run away?"

Hermione shrugged and hid her face in her hands again. "I don't know. Things were… progressing—" She shot Ginny a glare after she made an excited squeak. "A group of girls barged out of the castle right near where we… were. And it sort of broke the mood. And he looked so stressed and concerned. I just knew he was probably about to realize that the only reason he did it was because he was just so happy about the game. I never even CONSIDERED that he'd kiss me. I thought we were just friends. I honestly wasn't even hoping for it to happen. But I just didn't want to have that awkward conversation. And I knew it would just make our studying so awful and I really want to do well on this project. And I was still upset about Ron. He said some really awful things. So… I just decided it would be better if we could both pretend it never happened."

Ginny gave her an exaggerated nod. "Well?"

"What?"

Ginny smirked at her with the most Slytherin energy she'd ever witnessed.

"Have you been able to forget it ever happened?"

Hermione didn't even have to shake her head for Ginny to know the answer.

Sunday, March 7

Ginny

The next morning, Ginny had a raging hangover. Her head was splitting, she felt like her skin was made of stone, and she had to stop in two lavatories to hurl.

Regardless, she practically skipped her way up to the Owlery.

She took out a piece of paper and a pen and wrote a quick note to Harry before sending one of the school owls on its way.

Harry,

Pay up.

-Ginny