"I want revenge."

"Here here, sister! But how do you plan on getting it?" Ginny asked before shoving a fork full of eggs and something or other into her mouth. She had been trying to get Hermione to vent for almost a month, and she wasn't going to let a little thing like brunch get in the way of it.

Hermione stacked her empty bowl on top of her empty plate and threw the shredded remnants of straw wrapping into the dish. It was such a simple thing, but it was so organized. Her life had been simple and organized before Ron had destroyed that.

"I don't know. How do you get revenge on the man you imagined spending your life with before he bloody ruined everything by cheating on you?"

A couple of seconds passed with nothing but the sound of coffee spoons hitting the sides of cups and the innate chatter of strangers 'catching up' to be heard. Ginny took another bite or two of her… was it an omelette? Hermione thought it was probably an omelette. She hadn't been there when Ginny ordered, though, and this was a rather uppity breakfast place so she couldn't be sure.

"You could date someone way better than him. That's a win-win for you, hun! Someone who makes Ron realize you aren't hung up on him who also helps you move on," Ginny said. She scrapped at the practically nonexistent bits on her plate.

Hermione shook her head.

Ginny sighed. "We could kill him?"

"Ginevra!" Even if Hermione knew it was only a joke, an eavesdropper could quote it as anything but. If there was anything Hermione had learned in the years since the war it was that there was always someone willing to say anything for their fifteen minutes of fame and a reporter willing to believe them.

Ginny didn't care.

"I'm just saying, I have a bunch of brothers. No one's going to care if one goes missing."

Hermione threw her napkin (folded neatly into a small triangle) at Ginny. "I don't want to physically maim anyone," Ginny made a disappointed grunt. Hermione swirled her coffee mug (in a dignified manner cultivated from her brief stint in divination class) so that the tiny bit of coffee that remained reacquainted itself with the creamer that had settled at the bottom.

"But mental maiming is fine, yeah?"

"Maybe not maiming, but," Hermione drank the last of her lukewarm coffee with a grimace as she thought of how to phrase her next words, "I wouldn't mind giving Ron a good upset. Merlin knows he's easy enough to anger, but I want him to really hurt, you know. I want him to feel like he's been betrayed, you know?"

Hermione didn't bother asking if that made her an awful person. She knew it didn't. Perhaps there were people much better than her that could let it go, but she felt almost certain that it was more common to want some form of revenge. It's not like she wanted someone to die or anything. She just wanted him to feel as upset and betrayed as she had when she walked into their shared bedroom after a long day at work to see the bare tits of his reverse cow girled tart. Maybe then he wouldn't hurt someone else.

Ginny, still eating (as she always seemed to be during quidditch season), nodded in understanding. Being her brother didn't me she was automatically on his side, as she'd stressed several times to Hermione.

"You know, the last time I saw Ron feel like that was when the Chudley Cannons rejected him and recruited Malfoy. He swore up and down it was Malfoy's fault somehow."

Hermione laughed. She remembered that day. She'd come home to a pile of orange sports paraphernalia in the center of the living room that Ron was determined had to burn. Malfoy had made the team as the seeker and Ron had been rejected as keeper, but somehow Ron had reasoned Malfoy had stolen his spot. To be rejected by a team you'd loved since infancy was one thing, but to see your childhood nemesis on the team was another. Hermione almost felt bad for him then. Now she was glad she didn't.

"You're all still going to Chudley Cannons versus Pride of Portsmouth game on Saturday, yeah?"

Ginny nodded, finally pushing her empty plate away. "Yes, and you are too."

"Ginny-"

"No, Hermione, you are! You broke up with one Weasley, not all of us. You're breaking my mother's heart, you know."

Ah, sweet guilt: a Weasley's favorite bargaining tool.

"It just doesn't feel right, Gin. It's one thing to stop by the Burrow when I know Ron won't be there, but it's another to show up to his family outing where I know he'll be."

Ginny sighed. They'd have this conversation before, and she was getting sick of it. "What are we to you, then? Aren't we family? After everything we've been through, we're family. You'll go with us to the match. We can even get you some ugly orange shirt to make Ron mad."

Hermione couldn't help but marvel at Ginny's ability to put things in a way that left no room for argument or compromise. The waiter refilled their coffee cups and Hermione added her cream and sugars. She ran through all of her excuses, but she knew none of them would work. She'd have to give in. She'd wanted the next time she met Ron to be just vengeful enough for closure, but she supposed supporting the Cannons would have to do.

"Might as well shove me in a Cannon's jersey with Malfoy's name across the back. If you're going to make me sit with my ex and watch a sport I don't even like, you might as well make the torture complete."

Ginny sat up a little straighter. "Well, there's an idea."

Hermione nearly choked on her coffee. That was a dangerous look. "An idea, yes, but let's not get carried away here."

"I'm just saying that if you really want to do revenge the boring-"

"Non-violent."

"way, then you might as well take what we know upsets him and use it against him. Malfoy and the Chudley Cannons: throw them in a cauldron and you get the perfect potion for an angry Ronald."

"But is it worth sacrificing my pride?" Hermione asked. Was it worth all the stories that would come out in the papers when they saw a war heroine with the name of her enemy stitched across her shoulders?

Not to mention Malfoy himself. They'd managed a civil final year at Hogwarts together, but they'd only ever met in passing with some friendly, light bickering since. Still, each meeting had reassured Hermione that while he might have grown out of his awful prejudices, he'd not grown out of his ego. Perhaps it was because he'd been prepped for discrimination from age 3 or 4, but he'd been pampered since birth.

"You can sacrifice your pride for, at most, a month's backlash in some trash reporting and experience the sweet taste of revenge on your tongue, or you can maintain your pride and continue to taste only the boring state of discontent that you'll be experiencing for at least another year. The choice is yours."

Hermione paid the check.

"They're out?"

"They're out."

"How are they out?"

"Malfoy's a popular player."

Hermione what sure if she should laugh or gag at that. She thought she might have done both. "Malfoy's popular with people outside of his limited social circle?"

"We're not in school anymore," Ginny said, "And Malfoy is a hot and – and please don't ever tell anyone I said this – a good seeker. The perfect mix of ingredients for a fanbase."

"So you're fine with me telling people you find Malfoy attractive so long as I don't mention that you – a quidditch player – believe that he – also a quidditch player – is good at his chosen profession?"

"Hey, when's the last time you saw Malfoy?"

"I don't know. Some charity event about half a year ago, probably. Does it matter?"

Ginny took Hermione's arm and led her out of the store. "Did you talk?"

"No? Malfoy and I aren't exactly friends."

"So you probably weren't standing very close to him?"

"You're coming off a bit like a blunt quill, Gin."

"What?"

"No point, and kind of making a mess of things."

Ginny pinched Hermione's upper arm. When Hermione had stopped swearing off the pain, Ginny went on. "Well if you weren't very near him, you wouldn't be able to see just how much he's changed since school."

Hermione had seen his photograph plenty in the Daily Prophet, so she felt she knew well enough how he'd changed. Hell, she'd seen so many posters in the quidditch shop just a moment ago, she could probably draw an excellent likeness of him. If she could draw, that is. "Sure Gin. Fair enough."

Ginny smiled again; the same dangerous smile she'd had at the cafe. Her hands tightened around Hermione's arm in a vice, and Hermione was afraid she was going to be pinched again. "I've just had an excellent idea, though. A two birds with one stone type of idea. You love those. Very efficient."

Hermione narrowed her eyes. "You know I don't agree to vague ideas, Ginny."

"Well," Ginny started, pulling Hermione in the direction of an apparition point, "we can get you a Malfoy jersey to make Ron mad, and you can see for yourself that Malfoy is hot and I'm not crazy. Oh, and I can smack talk him before our game next month. Three birds one stone, Hermione! That's even more efficient than two!"

It took Hermione a minute to process. "You're not suggesting I get a Malfoy jersey from Malfoy?"

"Well we know he's certainly not out of them, now is he?"

"Ginny-" before Hermione could object, Ginny wrapped her arm around Hermione's waist and side-alonged them both to an apparition point just outside the garish orange stadium of the Chudley Cannons.

Ginny pulled Hermione towards the security guard sitting by the entrance.

"Miss Weasley! Come to start a fight with Chang again?"

Ginny laughed. "No, that can wait until next month. I wouldn't mind a little bit of trash talking, though."

"Wait, Cho Chang? Why would you be fighting with Cho?" Hermione felt like she was starting a tv show in the middle of the season.

"Just some good, clean trash talking between chasers," Ginny said. "Very professional."

"I thought Cho was a seeker, though."

"There's only one seeker and one alternate seeker per team. Spots are hard to come by, so a lot of school seekers end up switching positions if they can't find a seeker position but still want to play professionally. Cho is actually the Cannons' alternate seeker as well as a chaser."

"Oh." Hermione didn't really know what else to say. She didn't really care about the logistics of quidditch and team politics.

Ginny turned her attention back to the security guard, "Chuck, could you get Malfoy to come out here for just a minute? Tell him Hermione needs to speak with him about something."

Somehow Hermione didn't think that the prospect of talking to her would really motivate Malfoy, but Chuck seemed to think otherwise and turned to send off a patronus message (which Hermione thought was overkill, but Ginny explained as 'sending a message while maintaining his post').

Nearly 10 minutes later, Hermione was ready to leave. Malfoy clearly wasn't coming out. She couldn't blame him, either. They weren't friends, so what could she need from him. Hell, he might just think it was a prank. She was just about to tell Ginny as much, when he appeared and proved her wrong.

And he proved Ginny right. Very right.

Hermione swallowed the lump that was growing in her throat. "Malfoy, thank you for meeting with us."

Ginny rolled her eyes at the formal tone, and Malfoy smirked. "What is this, a sponsorship meeting? You're speaking much to formal for someone who just pulled me out of practice without notice."

Hermione had the decency to blush where Ginny didn't. "Malfoy, Hermione needs your jersey."

"Ginny! You can't just lead with that!"

"My jersey?"

Ginny sighed, "Hermione, I somehow don't think Malfoy would believe you and I came to exchange pleasantries. Best get to the point. He has practice to get back to. Not that his team stands a chance against the Harpies, but they can at least make an effort against Pride of Portree, eh?"

"Well, I don't suppose insulting his team will do me any good either!"

"I see Granger is still the brains of the operation, then," Malfoy said, looking between the two girls with impassive amusement. He seemed lighter, somehow.

I suppose, Hermione thought, having the burden of enforced limited perspective lifted would do that do a man.

"She needs your jersey to piss Ron off," Ginny said. Hermione gave up trying to stop her. Ginny was clearly in a mood today, and she would have what she wanted one way or another.

Malfoy quirked his head to the side, and he turned his gaze toward Hermione. His lips were pressed together lightly, in a thinly veiled effort not to laugh. "Granger, I might not need all the pleasantries, but I could use a bit more detail than what Weasley is giving me."

Hermione tried to be as succinct as she could. "Ronald cheated on me. We broke up. I want to make him feel as shitty as he made me feel without physical maiming and without sinking to his level of debauchery. He hates you, and he's not well pleased with the Cannons. The Weasley clan and some of us others are all getting together to watch Chudley versus Portree on Saturday."

"Combine two of his childish hatreds into one afternoon and you've got yourself a good girl's revenge," Malfoy said. "Much too nice for my taste, but fitting for you."

"And listen, I'd have just bought your jersey, but apparently people like you and it was sold out at Quality Quidditch. So can I just buy one of your jerseys off you or something?" She was embarrassed, and she really just wanted this interaction to be over.

Malfoy made an exaggerated show of contemplating her offer, complete with worrying his clean-shaven chin. Still took pleasure in having something to hold over someone else, then. Some things never changed.

Then something in his eyes shifted, like he'd gotten an idea. His tone was still light, but he addressed her sincerely. "I'll make you a deal, Granger, and please know that I cannot believe I'm asking this either."

Uh oh. Hermione looked to Ginny for her opinion on whatever was about to happen, but she just shrugged and motioned for Malfoy to go on.

"Watch my son during the game." Oh. "Tell the Weasleys that you and I are friends, or something, and just keep him with you for the game. I'll get him as soon as the game ends, I swear." Malfoy was speaking a little fast, and he passed his hands through his hair once… twice in a nervous tick. He was composed to anyone who wasn't looking closely, but to Hermione he was clearly a bit desperate.

"Who normally watches him during a game?" Hermione asked. It seemed a bit odd that he wouldn't have a regular nanny to watch him.

Malfoy sighed and his shoulders slumped. "My mum, normally, but she's got a charity event she's planning with the ladies auxiliary. Then Theo would normally step up, but he's finally landed a date with some bint he's been mooning over the past half a year. Neither Blaise nor Pansy is responsible enough to look after themselves, let alone a child. The few others I'd trust play on the team, so they obviously can't."

"But you'd trust me, your schoolyard nemesis, to look after your child," Hermione asked, incredulous. She sympathized with his lacking a babysitter, but surely there were better options than her.

Malfoy smiled. "You've gone out of your way to find the most docile yet effective mode of revenge for your bastard ex because you're still worried about doing anything morally wrong to him. I think I can trust you to do right by an innocent child."

Hermione blushed. She was used to being called a goody two shoes, but the way Malfoy put it was almost nice. And she liked children, not that many of her friends knew it. Whenever there was a Granger family reunion, she could always be found dallying about with the kids. They always wanted to know what the big words she used meant, and they loved it when she'd read them stories. But surely a tiny Malfoy would be different. "I wouldn't mind watching him, but I don't know how well the Weasley would take to me watching your son, even if I told them you and I were friends. While I know they wouldn't hurt a child, I certainly don't want them saying anything about you to him."

Ginny had been watching their back and forth like it was a tennis match (tennis: muggle game Harry had explained to her when she'd stumbled across it on the muggle telly back when they were dating). She figured this was her chance to step in as the empire – no, umpire! Emperor? Was it? Whatever. "The only person in my family who would have the gall to talk poorly about a parent to his child would be Ron, and even a child couldn't take him seriously."

"Granger, you want to make a splash with Weasley anyway. Pretending we're close enough that you watch my kid will only add to the fire. I trust you'll keep Scorp safe. I wouldn't ask this of you if I thought you'd even entertain the idea of putting him in danger."

That was true. Even as he continued to argue the idea with her, Draco wondered at his trust in her. If anyone had a right to hate all Malfoys, Granger was it. She was working her way through the ministry ranks through charity and social reform. Even as an adult, she couldn't resist helping someone out. She wouldn't let anything happen to Scorp, and he'd be able to take down Portree's bitch of a seeker down a peg or two in the game while Granger and his son bonded over some nursery rhymes.

Oh! Well, wasn't that a notion.

Malfoy started again, "Granger, you don't like quidditch, correct?"

"Absolutely."

Malfoy stopped himself from rolling his eyes (Ginny did not). "So use my son as a distraction then."

"That's an awful way to look at babysitting, Malfoy!"

"Read him some books or something! My kid loves stories. Of course, I don't imagine you're quite as fond of Hera the Hippogriff books as he is. Still, he'll listen to you read anything if you read it in a tone that makes it sound interesting."

Ginny actually saw the resistance in Hermione's eyes crumbling. All she had to do was read to a little boy who would find anything she'd say fascinating. This was a much better fate than feeling isolated among the quidditch-loving family of her ex-boyfriend.

"Fine," Hermione said, willing herself to sound reluctant. "I need the jersey, today though."

"Don't trust me?"

Hermione simply raised an eyebrow in challenge, something she deeply regretted when she saw Malfoy lift his arms and pull the jersey off. Holy abs, did she hate when Ginny was right about things. He cast a quick cleaning charm before tossing the jersey to her. By some miracle, she caught it.

"You know, you could have owled it to me. You still have practice don't you?"

Malfoy shrugged and smirked. "It's hot enough out that no one will question me playing without. Our practice jerseys haven't got any padding or cushioning charms, so it really wont make a difference either way."

Hermione thought she might mention how likely he was to burn his perfect pale complexion – she could certainly feel the sun heating her cheeks – but she thought better of it. No need to stretch this out any longer. "I'll owl you my address and you can drop – Scorp you said? - you can drop him off with me before you head to the stadium to do whatever it is athletes do before they play."

Malfoy smiled and his eyes softened. "Thanks Granger. I promise you he'll be on his best behavior."

Hermione acknowledged his words with a nod before wrapping her arm around Ginny's shoulders and apparating away.

I hope you are all doing well in these unprecedented times.