The next morning, Hermione felt awful. She focused on getting Rose to school without any trouble, smile firmly in place until she was alone and could break down.
She managed to get home, crawl into bed, and go back to sleep after a good, long cry.
Hours later, she woke again with a headache, surely a hangover from her earlier crying. Padding to her potions cache, she found her headache potion and took a few drops, sighing with relief as it began to work immediately.
She didn't know why she felt bad; she hadn't been too upset the night before. Yet, as Millicent had predicted, she was finally feeling the full weight of her divorce, even though it was the right thing to do in every way.
It was still a loss.
It still meant huge changes in her life.
It still meant, despite all of her efforts, that she had failed.
Failed to keep her family intact, failed to be what Ron needed, failed to make herself fit the spaces he'd carved for her.
She knew, deep down, that it wasn't her job to wedge herself into someone else's ideals, but she had failed to recognize that being with Ron would require this. Convinced that he had changed though, Hermione had ignored the fact that there were some things, basic things, that would never change. They were fundamental to who he was and simply incompatible with who she was.
So it wasn't failure.
Yet signing those papers, turning them in and walking away, still felt like it was.
When her stomach rumbled, Hermione realized she hadn't had much breakfast. With a rush, she sat up and saw that it was almost lunchtime. There was one person she wanted to see right now, and she did some quick thinking: Harry would be at work, but he never minded when she dropped in. Maybe he'd—
There was a knock on her door. She stared in that direction, as though it would help her figure out who it was or even send them away. She was definitely not up for visitors today.
Whoever it was knocked again, and she begrudgingly forced herself to get out of bed. Quietly, in case she didn't want to open it, she crept to the door and looked through the peephole.
Tears filled her eyes when she saw a head of messy black hair, and she didn't waste a moment as she threw open the door and flung herself at him.
Harry wrapped her in a hug the likes of which only he could achieve. Harry's hugs were some of the best, and she cried in his arms as he gently led her into her flat, shutting the door behind them.
"You're okay then?" He chuckled, rubbing her back soothingly.
"Oh, Harry! I'm so glad you're here!" The words came out between sobs. After a few minutes, the flow began to lessen, and she released him to find a tissue. His work robes had a large wet patch on the front. "I'm so sorry." She dabbed at him with the tissue.
Harry grabbed her wrist. "It's alright, Hermione. I'll clean it later. With magic. I brought lunch, but you may not be up for it."
It wasn't until that moment that Hermione spared a thought for how she looked. She hadn't changed out of her pajamas when taking Rose to school, merely covered them up with a large cloak, and she knew she must look a fright. She was wearing her favorite pajamas, the ones with the stretched out neck and a knee hole on the right leg, and her hair had to be a frizzy, tangled mess. She tried to pat it down, but it refused to budge. Laughing through the tears, she used a hair band to pull it back, keeping it somewhat at bay.
"I'm quite hungry, actually. Or I was before you showed up." She took the bag from him and opened it. "Oh, Harry! Is this—"
"From your favorite Thai place?" He shrugged smugly. "Maybe."
She inhaled deeply, her mouth watering at the smells that wafted out of the bag. "This is amazing. You're the best."
He motioned towards the table. "Got anything to drink?"
"Aren't you technically on the clock?" She grabbed some glasses and filled them with water.
"Well, I told my second in command that I might not be back but to alert me if there was an emergency."
Hermione felt a wave of gratitude for her friend and grabbed two beers. Handing him a bottle, she sat down. "This looks incredible, Harry. I can't thank you enough for thinking of me."
He gave her a lopsided grin. "I've thought of nothing but you since yesterday morning. Remember, I know better than anybody what it's like to find myself outside the Weasley circle where I'd once been deeply in it. It's quite an experience, and no one knows better than me what you're going through."
"You're absolutely right. I hadn't thought about that."
Ginny had jumped into a strange back and forth relationship with Blaise after Hogwarts that had lasted a couple of years. Then she'd called it quits and started dating Harry. They'd gotten very serious, very quickly, to the point that they were a month away from getting married when she'd backed out. It turned out she was still in love with Blaise, and she'd been trying desperately to force things with Harry. A few years later, she and Blaise got married.
Hermione felt another spark of kinship with Harry, her friend who was practically a brother. Not to mention that neither of them had their parents in their lives. Luna, Harry's wife, was also an only child, and despite her father's apologies, Harry had never gotten close to him.
"The good news is, the Weasleys love you. You're still the mother of their granddaughter." Harry put his hand on hers. "This has been coming for a long time; it's not completely out of the blue like Ginny's announcement felt. They've had plenty of time to get used to you two not being together. And you'll be welcomed back—not that you've ever been unwelcome. Even I'm considered family again, and Ginny and I never got to the point of having kids together."
Hermione stared at her food, suddenly not sure if she was still capable of eating.
Harry groaned. "Ah, no. That wasn't helpful. Tell me something else. Talk about… anything but Ron."
"That's… difficult because it feels like everything is about him right now." She held up her hands. "The final papers were submitted yesterday, and everything is now final. And Rose has been asking me all these questions about how we fell in love, so for two nights now, I've been telling her that story."
"What's to tell?" Harry frowned. "You liked him for years, he was an idiot, then when you got together, he screwed up—only it was probably a cry for help more than anything—you were apart for a while, then after a few years, you got back together. Easy. Want me to tell her?"
Hermione could only shake her head incredulously. If Harry only knew. "There was a little more to it than just skipping from Ron in eighth to Ron when I was twenty-four. I dated other people, you know."
Harry waved his hand dismissively. "Yeah, yeah. I mean, I know that, but why mention any of them?"
"They're part of my story, Harry. Each and every one of them shaped my life in ways that led to marrying Ron. I suppose I'm telling her more than just my story with Ron, but it's important for her to know that when Ron and I started dating again, we had both changed in ways that made us ready to try again." She took her first bite, savoring the flavor.
Unbidden, the memory of the first time she had takeaway from this restaurant came back to her—it had been with Draco while he was working with her as a consultant for the Ministry. They'd been out with a few others doing some research. When that concluded for the day, he'd mentioned being hungry and suggested they get lunch and compare notes on what they'd learned. She'd agreed, and they passed the rest of the afternoon together.
Shaking her head slightly to clear the memory, she smiled at Harry. "I think it's important for her to understand how real relationships work. How we didn't just meet and fall in love like some storybook romance."
"She already knows." Harry spoke quietly, frowning at his plate before looking at her. "She knows the ending. Ron wasn't your storybook end."
Tears formed once more and she bit her lip. Setting her fork down, she put her head in her hands. "I know. Harry, what if I don't have such an ending? What if… I missed it? Maybe it was Cassius I'd have stayed in love with for the rest of my life. Or Viktor. Or—" No, she couldn't say Draco. What she'd felt for him was never reciprocated.
"Stop. You'll drive yourself barmy thinking like that. It's not like you get one shot at love and that's it. Give yourself time. You'll find someone else; I'm sure of it. Hermione." He waved his fork to get her attention. "You're too amazing. Someone will recognize that and treat you the way you truly deserve. I just know it."
"Thanks, Harry." She smiled through watery eyes and took his hand. "You're such a good friend. Where would I be without you?"
He chuckled. "That's a question I ask myself about you all the time."
Hermione squeezed his hand, then resumed eating. "How's Luna? How are the kids?"
Harry and Luna had connected around the same time that she and Ron got together. However, they'd preferred to take things very slow and had dated for four years before marrying. Luna had always waved airily and dismissed questions about their future as unimportant. What mattered, she said, was that they were happy. And since their first date, they had been.
He broke into a smile, something he always did when asked about Luna. "She's great. We're taking the kids on holiday in a few weeks. Luna wants to search for some creature or other in the Caribbean, so the kids and I are going to a resort on a purely magical island while she goes hunting."
"That sounds fabulous! I've heard about islands that are hidden for Muggles but I've never visited one. I can't wait to hear all about it! It's such a good time to go somewhere warm." With the constantly cold, bleak days of February in London, just the thought of a tropical island made her feel a little better.
"Exactly. So, are you coming to the Burrow this weekend?"
"I'll be there Sunday. Why?"
"It wouldn't quite be the same without you." He shrugged.
"I haven't been much of a presence there in a long while. I suspect I won't feel free and ready until Ron finds someone else. Do you think he will?" She bit her lip. What if he started dating before her? Would she care? No, not really. Except that she did have a deep seated fear of being the only one without someone.
"I think you both will." Harry smiled and drank from his bottle. "Ron's been talking about someone who works in Diagon Alley. He's never come right out and said he fancied anyone, but increasingly more of his stories include her."
Hermione glanced down at her food, her stomach dropping. Of course he would be moving on. He didn't have nearly as much to worry about as she did. Between her dead-end but necessary job and being the primary parent to Rose, she had very little time for such things. Besides, she hadn't wanted to even consider dating until the divorce was final.
Which it was now.
"He's single, you know."
She shut her eyes tight; that wasn't helping.
"I'm almost afraid to ask how you're doing, based on today, but I do want to know."
Hermione laughed. "Yesterday was fine, for the most part. I dropped off Rose, took the papers to the lawyer, then went to Millie's house. I spent the rest of the day with her until it was time to get Rose. We went on some errands, then home for dinner. I was fine."
"Until you weren't."
She blinked rapidly, trying to dispel her tears. "Harry, it's so ridiculous! This is exactly what I want! It's the right thing for everyone involved, especially Rose. It's been in the world for nearly a year, so why do I keep spontaneously crying?"
Harry's face was full of sympathy. "Because it's still hard."
"Why is it that the right choice is often so hard?" She sniffed and wiped her eyes.
"Well, to be fair, staying together wasn't exactly easy." He gave her a pointed look.
She laughed. "Excellent point, Harry. Thank you."
Harry took his first bite of food and leaned back in his seat. "But..." He trailed off, waiting for her to reply.
Hermione groaned and dropped her head into the table. "But it still feels like I fai—"
"You did not fail, Hermione." His tone was so stern she looked up in surprise. "I love you, and I love Ron, but you two were a disaster. It's not a failure to walk away from a train wreck. Failing is staying and trying to put it all back together again and causing permanent harm by doing so."
"Was it that bad?" She winced.
"Not in a really obvious way, but knowing you both the way I do... I started worrying after your third anniversary." He looked somewhat apologetic.
Hermione shook her head. "Really? And we stretched it all the way to ten. Nine, technically, considering I spent our last anniversary with Pansy and Millie, who helped me get through the night without passing out in an alley. That was right after our separation."
"I remember. Ron was worried about you. Asked me to make sure you were okay." He paused to chuckle, smiling at the memory. "You were passed out when I knocked on your door, but Pansy was there and told me you were in bed. Wouldn't let me even see you. Figured you were in the loo, sick all over the place."
Hermione grimaced at the memory of the headache she'd woken up with. "He was worried about me?" Nobody had told her that Ron had been concerned.
"We all know you, you know. Even Ron. Sometimes." He smiled weakly. "You know he cares about you and always will. You're the mother of his child."
"I feel the same. I'll always love him in that way. And I know that I'll feel better eventually, but… just right now, it's hard." She finished her drink and looked at her friend. "What do you want to do now?"
He laughed. "We could watch a film. I brought microwave popcorn."
"Ooh. I love making it pop with magic!" She jumped up and went to the kitchen for a bowl. "You pick something. Only not Pride and Prejudice. Or any love story, really. I don't need to feel worse than I already do."
"You'll find someone again, Hermione." Harry's voice was muffled from the other room. "I promise."
She paused on her way to join him. If there was anybody she could tell about her strange fixation on Draco, it was Harry. He would never judge her, and he would probably have something very wise to say. Something along the lines of "Very funny, Hermione. Malfoy? Good one." She felt a strong urge to confess and decided she would.
Setting the bowl down, she picked up the bag he'd left on the table. Harry was in the other room looking at her film collection. As she carefully unfolded it, she spoke up so he could hear. "So remember how you mentioned that Ron kept talking about a woman?"
"Yeah. Why?" The sound of plastic cases being shuffled was loud, even from around a corner.
Her stomach swooped at the mere thought of what she was about to say, and she was thankful he was in the other room. "Well, it's funny, because I keep thinking about Draco Malfoy."
All sound instantly ceased. Seconds later, Harry poked his head around the corner, his expression earnest. "Sorry. It was loud in there. For a second, I thought I heard you mention Malfoy. Did you? Mention Malfoy? And what do you mean, you keep thinking about him?"
She cast a heating charm and directed it at the popcorn bag. In seconds, the sounds of the popping filled the room. Harry joined her; it had always been something they loved doing together, having grown up in the Muggle world. When the bag was finished, she busied herself dumping the contents into the bowl, careful to avoid his gaze. "I keep thinking about him. In ways that make me flustered. Did you pick something to watch?"
"Die Hard. But, Hermione, what are you saying?" He seemed genuinely concerned.
She bit her lip and looked him in the eye. "I've had feelings for him multiple times since eighth year. And we kissed. Once. But it wasn't until after I broke up with Ron. It also wasn't much of a kiss, but it still haunts me, and I keep having these fluttery sensations whenever I think about him."
Harry blinked, a baffled expression on his face. "Wait. Why are you thinking about him again? Did I miss something?"
"He's part of my story. The one I'm telling Rose. And Millie mentioned him yesterday. Rose keeps asking about him—you know, without knowing who he really is." She moved past him, continuing into the living room. The movie Harry had chosen was on the floor beside the rejects, and she made quick work of inserting the disc.
"Malfoy? You… fancied him? When you were with Ron?" Harry was frowning when she glanced at him.
"Yes. A bit. But I didn't think much of it then. I dismissed it because Ron and I were apart for that year. I assumed it was a case of not having Ron and forging such a close relationship with another attractive man." She went to the sofa and sat on one end, the same end she sat on with Rose. "The thing is, Harry, he understands me better than anyone." She sighed at Harry's affronted look. "At least he used to. My relationship with him was the deepest of any in my life, in some ways deeper than with you. I've never wanted to kiss you."
Harry pretended to be wounded. "Ouch! Never thought I'd be supplanted by Malfoy."
"Of course you haven't been." She fiddled with the edging on a pillow. "I don't know why I keep feeling these things."
"Once again, I think I understand you." He chuckled wryly. "Before Ginny and I really made a go of things, I couldn't think of anyone else. When she was with Blaise, I was a mess. Other women didn't interest me. But once we got together, and then after the end, I felt free of her. Only then could I move forward. Maybe you still need some way to be free of him."
She frowned. "I don't feel chained by his memory though. Or by the idea of him."
"I didn't know that's what it was with her, either. It wasn't until she told me she couldn't marry me that I became… unburdened. And maybe that's not how you feel," he added quickly, undoubtedly seeing her distress.
"I didn't feel the ghost of 'what if?' And I haven't had feelings like this for him in… many years." Groaning, she dropped her head in her hands. "I don't even know if what I'm feeling is real feelings! How can I know when I barely see him?"
Harry cocked his head, regarding her thoughtfully. "I've seen the two of you interact, though. Now that I'm thinking about it... You gravitate towards each other. You always find something to talk about, and you appear content to talk to each other all night. It's only because the rest of us interfere that you don't."
"Is that so?" She peered at him through her fingers.
"There were a few times I was surprised Ron didn't get jealous." He shrugged. "I guess he never felt threatened by Malfoy."
"He certainly had no reason to be." Even though she'd had feelings for Draco at various times and to various degrees, she'd never been unfaithful. She'd never even been tempted to be.
"You had feelings for him though. While you were with Ron."
"That's true, but I didn't do anything about them. And I was nineteen!"
"But then again later, you said?"
"Nothing really concrete. We were friends. But it was more than just friends, for me at least, but I didn't see it that way then. More of a nebulous attraction." She winced. "We wrote to each other for over a year."
His eyes went wide. "You had a long distance thing?"
"A friendship, yes. Only I got such a thrill whenever I saw his owl. It was quite Pavlovian."
"I don't want to know about your thrills with Malfoy."
She swatted at him. "Not like that!"
He grinned, then his expression turned serious. "I was joking. I know you were never unfaithful to Ron. And... I know what it's like to have... thoughts for someone while you're with someone else."
Hermione nodded. "We are three out of three on understanding each other today."
"Listen. I want you to be happy. If there's even a chance Malfoy might make you happy…" Harry's smile became concerned. "Although, he hasn't dated anyone since that whole mess with Astoria. At least not publicly. I suppose he's capable of getting up to things away from reporters. But certainly nothing serious enough to make the news. That whole thing must have really messed him up. It's been, what, three years?"
She wrapped her hands around her glass, dropping her gaze. "Well it's not like I'm going to rush over to the school and ask him out any time soon. He wasn't interested, remember?"
He gave her a long, appraising look. "Is it possible you misinterpreted what happened?"
"No." She shook her head adamantly. "It was very clear." One more confession burst out of her. "I still have every letter." She hid her face in shame.
Harry slapped the table with a laugh. "Why am I not surprised? I thought you said it wasn't that kind of relationship!"
She looked back up at him. "It wasn't! But we talked about the most interesting things! It started with Hippogriff laws, but ranged all over. We debated Ministry Law, Hogwarts curriculum, magical theory, Quidditch politics, Pureblood ideology—you name it, we covered it. And I kept the letters because they were so well written!"
Harry shook his head, his expression incomprehensible. "I'm sure they were."
"No, Harry! Listen!" She reached for his arm, chuckling at how silly it sounded to her now. "His arguments were so well researched and defended. I had to refer to them when crafting my responses. I'd often go back and see something new I'd overlooked on the first read and then write him about that. The back and forth, the depth of conversation… It was fascinating."
Harry tapped his head. "So he does something for you here."
"He definitely did, I suppose." She let out a long sigh. "Unlike anybody I've ever met."
"Well, if there's one area where you most need stimulation, it's your mind. You know that."
She blushed slightly at the suggestive word. "I'm sure you're right. But, Harry, this is all very one-sided."
His expression was sardonic. "I would bet you a hundred Galleons he still has all your letters."
"I would absolutely take that bet, Harry Potter."
"Oh yeah?" Harry smirked and held out his hand. "Let's shake on it."
It was the easiest agreement she'd ever made, and she shook his hand with a laugh. "I don't know how we'll get the answer to this."
"I'm not worried. Now, come on. Let's get to this fun, yeah? If I'm skipping out on work, let's make it worth it!"
"Conversation with me isn't enough?" She teased.
"Yes, but we can't do that for two more hours. I'm about talked out. Time for Die Hard." He sat up and glanced at the clock. "Oh, do you have to get Rose, though?"
"No, it's Tuesday. Ron gets her from school, takes her to dinner, spends the afternoon with her. He'll bring her here for bedtime."
Harry relaxed and sank back into the sofa. With a wave of his hand, the curtains closed and all the lights went out. "Perfect."
hr/
Harry had to leave after the film ended. Hermione thanked him profusely for stopping by. He'd asked about her dinner plans, and she'd told him she was going to spend the evening alone. This had worried him, but she insisted she'd be fine.
She spent the rest of the afternoon tidying up and reading, though her mind kept wandering to the box of letters in her closet.
Hermione finally gave up and pulled it out, tapping the shoebox-sized box to expand it to its true dimensions. There were more than just a few letters; sometimes they'd written multiple times a day, depending on how heated the topic was.
And it wasn't just letters; sometimes he sent her little mementos from his travels. There was a stack of postcards; in museums, he would grab one of every piece of artwork that he thought she might like. When he went to historic sites or saw beautiful scenery, he said he couldn't just pick one. Hermione laughed and set those aside. He rarely wrote on them, just wrapped them in parchment like a package and sent them by owl.
He'd also sent her brochures of places he visited, stickers he collected, even matchbooks from Muggle places, which he claimed amused him to no end. There was a smattering of other things: train tickets, foreign coins, ticket stubs, programs for music or sporting events he'd attended. Occasionally, he'd even sent little pictures he'd drawn of things he'd seen. As she started to go through everything, she decided on a glass of wine. That led to a fire in the hearth, and she carried the box over so she could sit on the floor and look through it all.
Every little scrap made her smile and brought to mind various lines from his letters.
Once she'd gone through all the extra things, she came to the letters themselves. The stack had to be twelve inches deep. Seeing it all now, years since she'd last really looked at it, she was amazed at how much they'd written. Of course, there had been so much to discuss.
But first, dinner.
Hermione reheated some leftovers and took them back to her spot by the fire. She opened the first letter from him with a grin.
Granger, Thank you for that bleeding essay on Hippogriff Laws dating back to feudal times. It was fascinating reading material, I assure you.
She could still hear the sarcasm practically dripping from his quill.
The letter went on to offer counterpoints to everything she'd said, and when she'd first received it, she'd started writing her response before even finishing the letter. Her reply had been thorough, researched, and, she'd thought, rock solid. Yet he had somehow managed to respond with new arguments, new thoughts, new ways of looking at the issue.
Hippogriffs were just the start. They'd embarked on a journey together through letters, and she had never felt more alive than when she was working on a response to him. Looking back, the beginning of their correspondence might have been solely responsible for her relationship with Cassius lasting as long as it did.
Draco's letters distracted her from recognizing how incompatible she and Cassius truly were. And then, when she'd started seeing Viktor, her correspondence with Draco had been so much a part of her life she didn't even think about it. Victor knew they wrote to each other. Sometimes she let him read one of the letters, and he'd never said anything about it.
Hermione finished the first letter and had a decision to make. The stack was huge, but she knew there were really lovely lines hidden like diamonds among all the snark and arguing.
It was an easy choice. She picked up the letters and went to the sofa to get more comfortable. Merlin, she'd forgotten just how much she'd enjoyed this part of her life, and she felt pangs of missing it—and missing him.
When she was maybe a third of the way through, there was a knock on the door. Hermione glanced up, startled to see that it was almost nine. Not only had nearly three hours passed by in the blink of an eye, but Ron was late bringing Rose over.
She jumped up, put the letters back in the box, and hurriedly stashed it out of sight. Ron was knocking again when she opened the door.
Her stomach clenched slightly when their eyes met, but it was more from nerves at seeing him for the first time since the divorce was final than anything else.
His smile was as easy as always, and his eyes pleaded with her not to say anything about his tardiness in front of Rose.
"Mum! Daddy took me for ice cream and a brownie." Rose quickly hugged her and then entered the flat.
Hermione quirked an eyebrow at Ron. "That's lovely, dear. You know the drill, get ready for bed."
Rose disappeared into the bathroom.
"Ron." She gave him a disapproving look.
"I know, I know. I'm late." He smiled sheepishly. "But we were having such a good time!"
She crossed her arms. "It's a school night."
"I know that, and I'm sorry."
They stared at each other for a few seconds. Hermione couldn't be too upset, however, considering she had let Rose stay up way too late on a school night just two nights earlier. At least he wasn't trying to insist it wouldn't happen again, which they both knew would be a lie.
"It's just, we were having a great time, and she was talking to me in a way she never had before, and I just… didn't want that to end." He shrugged unapologetically.
"I can't really blame you there." She gave him a small smile.
He visibly relaxed. "Great. Well, good night Hermione." He took a step away, then stopped. "You, um, okay? How do you feel after… well, you know. Everything." He was turning red.
"I'm fine, Ron." Emotions weren't his strong suit, but she appreciated the effort. She wanted them to have a good relationship for Rose's sake; after all, they'd be in each other's lives' for the rest of them. "Thank you for checking in. Really." She smiled. "I should go."
"Right, yeah." He took two steps backward, then stopped again. "Oh hey, I forgot. I was cleaning out the closet—you know the one. And I found a few things of yours. I meant to bring the box tonight but..." He shrugged.
"I'll get it Friday when I bring Rose's things over." She shook her head with a light chuckle. "I thought we'd gotten everything out of that closet!"
"Well, when you use magic to expand a space, you never quite know what's going to happen. I also found quite a few things we'd misplaced over the years. Almost like it was some kind of black hole. Remember that Cannons sweatshirt I swore your cat ate? It was in there." He made an incredulous face. "Too bad I blamed Crookshanks for that for the last few years of his life. Wish I could make it up to him."
She laughed, the memory of her beloved Kneazle sending a warm pulse through her. "That's incredible. And you wondered why he wanted nothing to do with you. But at least you have it again."
Ron scratched the back of his head. "Yeah, I still think the cat got to it though. It's got some holes that I don't remember it having."
"Mum, where are you? I can't find the toothpaste!" Rose's voice called from inside the flat.
"I should go, Ron. Thanks again. Have a good night." She clapped her hand on the edge of the door.
"See you later, Hermione." Ron gave a small wave and Disapparated.
Hermione found Rose already in her bed, but instead of lying down, she was sitting up with bright eyes, expectantly waiting for her.
"Rose, do you want me to read to you or do you want to go straight to bed?"
"Oh, Mummy, I'm not tired! Not even a little bit. Daddy and I had so much fun; I couldn't possibly go to sleep yet." She gave Hermione her most charming smile, even going so far as to bring out the puppy eyes. "I want to hear more about the story!"
Hermione laughed. She could see that Rose was indeed a bit wired, likely from the sweets she'd consumed. "Alright. Once you're nice and tucked in, I will pick up where we left off."
Rose beamed and got herself settled in. "You were telling me that Joey wasn't a good match. But then you met someone while you were with him that you knew from school? Is this another man you dated?"
"Yes, love. His name was..." She trailed off to give Rose the chance to name Viktor in the story.
"Elliot!"
"Elliot. And he was also in the Quidditch world—"
"So also not my father?" Rose was crestfallen.
Hermione fought a wince. "Remember, I told you that I've changed a lot of details in this. I shouldn't confirm any more details like I did with Joey not being your father. But telling this story isn't always easy, and using Quidditch as a career choice... is easy."
"Ah. Okay, Mummy. I'm ready. Go on."
"Elliott also had a presence in the Quidditch world, and we reconnected near Christmas time. There was a big, fancy party hosted by the Department of Magical Games and Sports, and the invites list extended to international participants of the sport in any way—especially those who'd been in England at any point in time."
hr/
Hermione bit back a snort as she entered the ballroom on Cassius's arm. Games & Sports had never been known for their subtlety, and this Christmas party was no exception. Everywhere she looked, the décor screamed "Quidditch Christmas," right down to the fluttering Snitches flying overhead, mistletoe somehow dangling from them. The tables had gaudy centerpieces showcasing the three golden Quidditch hoops, decorated with greenery and big red bows and surrounded by more greenery. All of this was further covered with little Snitches. The effect was ostentatious at best.
Cassius immediately waved to someone, and for the next hour, they flitted from one person to the next, each of them fawning over Cassius while he fawned over them in turn. It was one big International Quidditch Love Fest, and she was done after the first ten minutes. But Cassius lived for these events, and Hermione was coming to terms with the reality that she could not remain in his life for much longer.
She stayed beside Cassius, gritting her teeth through small talk while he laughed with and cajoled everyone they came in contact with.
After what felt like an eternity, it was finally time to sit for dinner. At least for this part, she could get off her feet, and she was guaranteed a delicious meal. She needed to end things with Cassius soon, but maybe tonight wasn't the best night. He was in such good spirits, and the shags were always so good after he'd been around a room full of people who adored him.
She'd wait a day or two.
They were the first to arrive at their assigned table, and Cassius helped Hermione into her chair. Instead of sitting down beside her, however, he started talking to the people at the tables around theirs.
While Cassius spoke to a tall man just behind Hermione, she noticed a lovely woman in a deep green dress two seats away and smiled politely at her.
They greeted each other and went through the usual introductions. The woman's accent was familiar, but she couldn't quite place it.
She didn't need to ponder long, however, because as soon as she'd given her name to the woman, the man Cassius had been speaking to whirled around.
"Herm-owny?"
She looked up into the face of Viktor Krum, whose surprised expression made her nerves dance. "Viktor!" She stood and they embraced. Immense relief washed over her at the sight of her old friend. Maybe tonight wouldn't be a total headache after all.
Cassius looked alarmed when they separated, the first time she'd ever seen him with a shred of self-doubt. "You know each other?"
"Herm-owny and I go back quite a few years. It's been, I'm thinking, five years?"
"Six, actually. Well, no, we saw each other at the wedding."
Viktor nodded excitedly. "Yes. So three years. It feels like much longer."
"It does, you're right. How are you? How's Quidditch? I know you're still playing, but are you still enjoying it?"
His smile lit up the entire room. "Yes, moyata silna. Very much."
Hermione blushed at the endearment; he used to call her that in fourth year and in the years after when they wrote to each other. It meant "my strong one" in Bulgarian, and it never failed to reduce her to a puddle when he said it with his thick, Bulgarian brogue.
"How exactly do you know each other?" Cassius frowned.
"We met at Hogwarts. I was there for the Triwizard Tournament."
Cassius's eyebrows shot up. "Oh, that's... I remember you, of course, Viktor, but..." He regarded Hermione as though he'd never seen her before. "I should know this, but I don't."
"We attended the Yule Ball together," Hermione supplied.
Comprehension dawned, and the top of Cassius's cheekbones went pink. "And for the second task, he rescued you from the lake."
She nodded.
"We have been friends ever since, though we haven't seen each other in years." Viktor beamed at her and put his hands on the back of her chair. "Are you sitting beside me? Fantastic. What a lucky coincidence. Here, allow me."
He pushed her chair in, then sat down. "You look beautiful tonight, Herm-owny."
Hermione blushed, wondering what Cassius must be thinking—not to mention the woman who was obviously Viktor's date.
Cassius, so used to being the center of attention, was oddly silent as the meal began and everyone at the table wanted to talk with Viktor. Hermione actually felt a bit sorry for her boyfriend and gave his hand a squeeze. He quirked his lips but into a shadow of a smile.
Sitting between Viktor and Cassius, she felt extremely strange. Where Cassius's effervescent personality seemed very superficial, Viktor was no less animated yet came across as far more genuine. Knowing both men, she knew that was the crux of the matter. Though Cassius was sincere with her, he was often disingenuous with others. She'd quickly seen it in him after starting to date him but had distanced herself from situations where she had to witness it. Now she cringed at the behavior.
That should have been the first sign that their time was reaching its natural end.
She'd been making excuses for him and their relationship, thinking he was flighty, even harmlessly flirty. Despite his personality, he'd never once given her reason to doubt his affections, simply the depth of them. In all the months they'd been together, he'd never once said he loved her. She hadn't either, but she'd believed herself in love with him. The truth, she had slowly begun to realize, was that she was perhaps simply in lust.
Which was okay—she'd never been able to picture herself with him long term.
And now that she was certain in her resolve to end this adventurous relationship, here was Viktor. An old love who kept finding little reasons to touch her incidentally, who kept smiling at her in a way that made her heart race, and she knew, because she knew him, that he meant every single thing.
Once dinner was concluded, Viktor asked his date to dance. Cassius appeared to relax when Viktor vacated the table, though not as completely as he'd been before dinner.
"Do you want to dance?" His crooked smile was still endearing.
"I'd like that, yes." Hermione took Cassius's hand, and he led her onto the dance floor. He didn't speak but took her in his arms, an intensity in his eyes she'd never seen before.
"You and Krum seem… close." His tone was much too serious for such a public conversation.
She nodded. "Yes. We became close, and even though we don't see each other often, it's the kind of friendship that doesn't change no matter how much time has passed."
"Friendship," Cassius repeated.
Hermione sighed. "Yes, Cassius. Viktor is… special. To me. I'm sorry if that upsets you. But obviously we aren't so close that we knew we'd both be here tonight."
That seemed to cheer Cassius and he smiled a little. "That's true. I'm sorry. I'm not usually the jealous type. But Krum is... Wow." His eyes widened and he shook his head. "He's way more famous than me."
It was all she could do not to laugh. Merlin, she needed to end things. Was it wrong to want one more night with him, knowing she intended to end it? It would only be for fun, and that was really all this relationship had been about in the end. Fun.
After the dance, Hermione told Cassius she wanted some water. He released her, his hand lingering on hers. She gave him a questioning look and left him there on the dance floor.
She felt a little flushed as she sat back at their table. Someone had refilled their water glasses, and she drank greedily. Movement beside her caught her attention, and Viktor's date sat down just as Hermione turned her head.
The woman gave her a curious smile, and Hermione was about to say something to her when Cassius sat down on her other side.
"What are you doing?" She was surprised he'd come to join her, as he usually flitted around, talking to everyone while she took breaks.
He shrugged and drank some water. "Just thirsty. Do you want to dance the next one?"
"I think I'm going to sit this one out. You go have fun!" His sudden clinginess couldn't be coincidence; he was anxious about Viktor. It was mildly entertaining, but she had weathered jealously over Viktor before. Besides, he was just her friend, and had been her friend for years.
He started to speak but someone came over to talk to him. Cassius stood and engaged with the wizard for a few minutes before leaning down to whisper in her ear. "Hermione, this bloke wants me to meet some people. I'll be back soon."
"Take your time." She smiled encouragingly. "I'm fine."
When Cassius was gone, Viktor's date spoke. "He's very attentive."
Hermione saw Viktor out of the corner of her eye, talking in a group of witches and wizards, his good natured smile evident across the room. She wondered if this woman wished her date would spend more time with her.
"He's not usually, to be honest." She smiled and shrugged.
The woman glanced over Hermione's shoulder, eyes widening appreciatively.
"Hermione!"
She spun to find Ginny Weasley beaming at her.
hr/
"Wait. Aunt Ginny?" Rose was frowning at her. "Why didn't you change her name? And why was she there? "
"Oh, um, well, you know Aunt Ginny plays Quidditch. She was at the event with her team. They were being recognized for an achievement."
Rose's eyes went wide. "Oh, that's very neat. But why didn't you change her name?
"It honestly just slipped out. It didn't occur to me to change her name." She hadn't even thought anything about mentioning Ginny, but it stood to reason Rose would wonder about using her real name. "Are you ready for the lights out?"
Rose's eyes flew open. "No! You haven't even finished talking about the party!"
"All right. It's nearly done. Ginny simply came to say hello, and Elliot's date left. I didn't talk to her long, however, because Elliot came back to the table."
"Everyone was so busy."
Hermione laughed. "Yes. That's how silly parties are. We talk and talk, and at this one we danced as well. Elliot and I talked all through that song, and then he asked me to dance."
Rose's face lit up. "And did you? Elliot sounds so nice, Mum. And my Dad is really nice."
"Yes, Elliot was very nice. I did dance with him."
"And did you feel all kinds of sparkly feelings?"
Hermione couldn't stop the smile at the memories. "I… definitely felt some things for him I hadn't felt in a long time."
Rose's eyes went wide as saucers. "Wait. What? You mean, you'd fancied him before?"
"Let's return to the story, shall we?" Hermione avoided her daughter's eyes and needlessly fluffed the pillows and smoothed the blanket.
"Yes, Mummy! Let's!" Despite her best efforts, a yawn forced itself out, and Hermione knew she didn't have much time left.
hr/
Viktor led her onto the dance floor, his hand lightly brushing the small of her back. She felt like everyone was staring at them, though she knew it was only in her imagination.
What would Cassius think when he saw them? It seemed like he'd experienced a jolt of some kind tonight. With a sinking feeling, Hermione realized just how selfish it would be of her to delay the end of this relationship even a day longer if his sudden attentiveness tonight was demonstrative of an increase in his own feelings.
Before she could act, Viktor had turned, an easy smile on his face, and he effortlessly brought her into his arms. With a wink, he held her in the same position he'd held her for the start of the Yule Ball, and she laughed.
When the music began, he whisked her away, and for a moment, nothing existed but him. Then he had to go and ruin it by asking the question, bringing her back to the event going on around them.
"Is that man your boyfriend?" He nodded subtly towards where she knew Cassius was.
She blushed, for some reason wishing her answer could be different. "Yes, he is. Though we've only been together about six months. It's not really serious."
He raised an eyebrow, something like relief flashing in his eyes. "Ah. I see. Herm-owny, you are stunning. I am having trouble keeping my eyes off you."
It was her turn to give him a skeptical look. "I'm sure your date wouldn't appreciate that."
Viktor laughed, a full, hearty sound that made her nerves skip pleasantly. "That is Nadia. My sister."
"Your sister?" She gasped in delight and amazement. "Oh, I had no idea. I've always wanted to meet her."
"I will introduce you, formally, tonight. But That clears that up, now doesn't it?"
The look in his eye, the possessive press of his hand at her waist, left no doubt in her mind what he was thinking, and she found it suddenly difficult to breathe properly. For the barest instant, she thought he might try to kiss her, but then he merely smiled and swept her back into the dance. She should have known; Viktor was far too much of a gentleman to kiss her while she was in a relationship with someone. The problem, however, was that Hermione didn't know what she wanted him to do.
Soon the moment passed, and they shared a lovely dance, talking and catching up over what had happened since they last saw each other.
Cassius collected her as soon as it was over and didn't leave her side all night. She could feel Viktor's eyes on her for the rest of the evening, and it had her on edge in a very unnerving yet delightful way. His attention felt like a promise she was ready to be given.
hr/
"And then Joey and I broke up the next day."
"Poor Joey. Was he sad?" Rose looked at her with wide, concerned eyes.
"Maybe a little. But I think, more than being sad about losing me, he had realized that he wanted something more than what we had. Our relationship was fun, and we laughed a lot, but it wasn't a deep connection. He could see that what I had with Elliot, only as a friend, was deeper than what he and I had. And I think it made him realize that he wanted something deeper. I'm certain I wasn't the person for that."
Rose sighed mournfully. "I still feel for him. He had to watch as Elliot basically stole you away right in front of him."
Hermione couldn't tell the full story. That she'd tried to break it off with Cassius that very night, but he had silenced her with a kiss.
At first, she responded, but then her conscience interrupted. "Cassius, wait." He left her lips and trailed kisses down her neck. "Not tonight, Hermione. Don't speak. Let me give you one more night." "What?" She took his face in her hands and made him look at her. "What do you mean?" He kissed her hungrily, deeply, passionately. "You are the most amazing woman I've ever met, and I'm nowhere near worthy to keep you by my side. Let me show my appreciation in the best way I know how." "But—" "No. Whatever you want to say, it can wait until tomorrow." Her resolve was definitely weakening. If he knew what was coming and wanted one last night with her, who was she to argue? Besides he was kissing down her chest now and she needed to give him an answer before she was incapable of one. "Alright." Cassius was true to his word and spent the entire night showing his appreciation. She'd never had another night like it. In the morning, she ended things. He wasn't surprised, though, simply saddened at their end. He gave her a long hug and kissed her forehead, holding her hand until the last possible second as he walked away. She watched him go with peace in her heart.
Hermione sighed at the memory, then shook her head to dispel it. She fluffed Rose's pillow and unnecessarily fussed over the bedding. "It didn't go like that at all! Elliot was very considerate and didn't approach me for three months after things ended with Joey." When Rose started to speak, she held up a hand. "That is absolutely a story for another day. It's bedtime."
"Alright. I am tired. Thank you, Mum. I love you."
Hermione kissed her cheek. "I love you, too, Rose."
Later, when she was alone, she searched within herself for any lingering feelings that may have resurfaced for Cassius like they had for Draco. Nothing materialized. There was only fondness, nothing more. She wondered at Harry's theory, that she'd never had closure with Draco, but that didn't feel true. She had felt closure with him, only rather than coming at the end of a relationship, it had happened before one even had the chance to begin. Perhaps that was why his memory was doing funny things to her heart.
Hermione poured herself another glass of wine and returned to the living room. Part of her wanted to read through all of the remaining letters from Draco; another part warned that doing so would only make her more aware of his memory than she already was, and she didn't know if that was a good idea or not.
But she should at least finish the one she'd been reading when Ron arrived. It had been an in-depth look into the history of the Statute of Secrecy, and even though she'd obviously read it once, she had forgotten most of the details.
That settled, she collected the stack of letters and resumed her position on the sofa, picking up where she'd left off.
You didn't honestly think I would forget your birthday, did you? I saved my favorite site-seeing for it, I'll have you know. Went to the Trevi fountain with a cup of strawberry gelato-I know you like strawberry. I even let a rose-seller talk me into buying a rose. I thought of you. Threw a couple of coins into the fountain. We'll see if it works.
Three hours later, she fell asleep snuggled under a warm blanket, a letter held loosely to her chest, with all the lights in the room still on.