I Love(d) You (Once)

Chapter Twenty-three: Unexpected Visits and Revelations

This was the first time in a while Hermione experienced a sleepless night. It happened to be the night after she proclaimed that she would be personally in charge of Draco's personal well-being, (even) if she were the last person in the world who cared about him. That, of course, was a tad dramatic.

She felt like she had just completed a marathon; her body was tired but her mind was pushing her to stay awake. Each realisation hit her with every bit of bewilderment she felt as she first gazed up to the floating candles adorning the Great Hall many years ago, back when she had been frazzled stupid with youth.

But judging from what she did today, she was still frazzled stupid… though not with youth anymore…

[four hours ago]

"So, are we doing this or not?" Pansy snapped at Hermione. Underneath the flickering street lamps, Hermione could count the number of glistening beads adorning Pansy's pale neck (there were twenty of them), against her pale blue frock slinging diagonally across her shoulders. She tightened the knots to the bag she held in her hands and nodded. Hermione reached out her hand and her fingertips brushed against Pansy's… and they were in front of Astoria's apartment. Hermione blinked at the sudden change in lighting, trying to adjust her eyes to the cold fluorescent light which illuminated with cold, clinical clarity.

Pansy started banging on the door and bellowed so loudly she could arouse even dinosaurs from their ancient graves. "GET YOUR ASS OUT HERE, GREENGRASS. I WILL RIP YOUR EYELASHES OUT ONE BY ONE! STRANDS OF HAIR TWO BY TWO—I MIGHT EVEN PULL THEM OUT THREE BY THREE IF I'M FEELING PARTICULARLY VICIOUS IF YOU DON'T OPEN THE DOOR IN THE NEXT FOUR SECONDS.

"THREE… TWO…"

Filled with dre-ad and a-dre-naline, Hermione stood beside Pansy like the last corn stalk to be reaped for harvest. Finally, the chain bolting the door rustled from the inside, and the door and Astoria appeared; her face was pinched like a lemon. "Pansy Parkinson. and… Hermione Granger? Why are you holding two plastic bags?"

"We come bearing gifts," Pansy announced. She pushed past Astoria and marched through the open door. Hermione trailed behind her, apologising for the late intrusion.

Astoria gave a light scoff. "If you were sorry about coming in so late at night, then why do that in the first place?"

Hermione didn't really have an answer to that. Only, that, if she left Pansy to her own devices, her vices would be completely uninhibited. She gave the younger woman a weak smile.

"Nice place," Pansy said and waved when she saw Theo rise from the couch, wand in hand. "Theo. Back from the dead. We should catch up some time. A den of us Slytherins. What do you think?"

He drew up to his full height and gritted his teeth; he held his head so strained ligaments popped out from his neck. "Parkinson," he said, clenching his wand even tighter. "Don't cause any trouble."

"Pah, you don't scare me! Hermione, show him what you've got!"

Theo's eyes widened. "What's that?"

Hermione hesitated before she took a deep breath and turned her head away as she placed the plastic bag on the coffee table and undid the knots. Astoria bit back a scream when Hermione opened the mouth of the bag wider for inspection.

Pansy smirked. "Road-kill. Yummy, right? I bet you want to eat it."

Theo swallowed and his breathing became short.

"If you don't want to let Astoria see you rub dead animals over your face, I suggest you leave. Get out." Pansy jabbed her thumb over her shoulder.

"What the hell!" Astoria yelled and she rushed to Theo's side. He kept looking between Astoria and the road-kill, desperation marring his face.

To prove her point, Pansy slapped the bottom of the plastic bag so a fresh jet of the bloody, iron smell permeated through the living room. "Fancy a late-night snack on possum entrails?"

"Or might I suggest you spend half an hour or so at the Three Broomsticks?" Hermione offered. She waved her wand with her free hand and Theo caught his long trench coat that had come flying towards him. "Don't worry. We won't do anything to her."

"Not too much at least," Pansy said in a dramatic stage whisper.

"Ten minutes, and then I'm coming back."

"Yeah, yeah! Go!" Pansy shooed him away. "Have a fun trip!"

Tearing his eyes off the bag of roadkill, he disapparated with a loud clap. By the time Hermione retied the bag of possum entrails and repositioned the bag neatly in the middle of the table — so nothing would spill —Pansy and Astoria had their wands drawn out already. They circled each other around the table, both trying to catch each other off-guard. Hermione moved to the corner of the room, her back against the cabinet, wondering how she had gotten swept up in this, and thinking to herself that she had redefined the phrase 'ineffectual presence'.

"I warned you about hurting Draco!" Pansy snarled and she fired a hex. It was a well-aimed shot, but Astoria was ready, she deflected the spell and it rebounded off her wand onto the table, undoing all of Hermione's neat work and caution. The coffee table exploded and split in half. Splinters and red blood splashed all over the wall and floor. Flecks landed onto Astoria's face. "You're crazy!" screamed Astoria and she slashed her wand at Pansy.

Hermione stared at the possum fur sliding off the wall and onto the ground. Some of it had definitely flown onto her face "I-I don't feel so good…" she said as the smell hit her in waves. "Um excuse me, Astoria…"

"What?" the younger woman threw a hex at Pansy which pushed her back into her cabinet. Pansy hit it with a loud crunch and the glass vases on the top shelf wobbled and crashed onto the floor. White porcelain pieces skidded across the dining room and Pansy glared at Astoria with renewed fervour.

"May I please borrow your bathroom?" Hermione said as she covered her mouth, trying to swallow hard, and taking deep breaths through her nose.

"That could have scarred my face!" Pansy charged at Astoria, wand abandoned (she was an amateur dueller at best and it had flown out of her hand when she was knocked back), her hands ready to yank hair.

"Ahhhhhhh!" Astoria screamed as the blur of blue rushed towards her. She was a flighter not a fighter, for Merlin's sake! As Astoria tried to dodge Pansy she tripped over Hermione who had crouched into a ball, trying to hold herself together.

(T minus four until impact…)

Pansy jumped on top of Astoria heavy thud, wand out of her hand and into the air as she began to pull Astoria's hair.

Hermione couldn't hold it in any longer. She turned away from the girls wrestling on the ground, in the mess, and—"ERGHHHHHHH!"

(next thing she knew she was behind bars.)

"What am I going to do?" Hermione said, her hands pressed into her forehead. Gripping her head did nothing to alleviate the pounding, especially as the metal chain linking one hand to the other hit her forehead as it swung to-and-fro. Beside her on the bench in a holding cell was Pansy, who appeared to be infinitely more calm than she. "We just got off the blue-file cases… the chance of the charges passing through… oh Merlin, what is Ignatius going to say when he finds out? They're already interviewing her neighbour. What do we do?"

"Sh! Don't say anything that might incriminate yourself!" Pansy hushed her. "That's the first thing Draco taught me," Pansy said, then patted her on the back. "How are you feeling?"

"Stupid," she said decidedly.

"No, I meant physically."

"I feel much better after I threw up," Hermione said, her face in her hands.

"I'm glad you are feeling better, Miss Granger," called the officer on duty. "And Miss Parkinson, fancy seeing you here again."

"Sorry about this," Hermione said.

"Thank you for your warm welcome, officer," said Pansy, and then to Hermione, "Don't worry, I'll get us out of here."

"Hello? What? You got arrested for what? No, I'm not going to calm down." Draco paced around his living room when Pansy told him what had happened.

"Honestly, this is not the first time," Pansy said from the other side. "You of all people should know that. When I can't resolve something with my wand out comes my fists. Would have won too, if only Hermione didn't—"

"What. The. Fuck! How did you rope Granger into this one?"

"Just calm down," Pansy snapped.

"Oh yeah, sure. Why didn't you give that advice to yourself an hour ago? You're sitting in a cell right now!"

"I had to fight for your honour. I was doing you a favour. I know you wanted to be the bigger man and all, so I did the dirty work for you."

"That is a load of rubbish. You just wanted to rip through Astoria's house!"

"Look, just get her to drop the charges. Make her say it was a mistake."

"And how do you suppose I can do that?"

"You figure it out, Drakey, I'm in charge of the looks in this relationship."

Draco's Grand Plan To Get Hermione and Pansy Out

Draco's thoughts ran wild as he dialled Astoria's number into his phone. How could Pansy have possibly roped Hermione into one of her crazy (and definitely unlawful) stunts? Why would Hermione follow her? It was never up for debate that Pansy had lost her head, but it appeared Hermione had followed suit.

After several rings, Astoria picked up. "I know what you're calling for."

"Then, Astoria, I wasn't going to say this myself, but Pansy and Hermione were as they say, "fighting for my honour". Isn't it understandable they did what they did?"

There was a moment of silence as though Astoria had been considering. "And that is a separate matter from tearing my house down."

"You really think it has nothing to do with it?" Draco asked, and he made his voice low and quiet as though he was truly truly hurt by her proposition. A tear would have leaked from his eye if they had been meeting face to face. "Astoria, I know we aren't getting along swimmingly, but in the grand scheme of things don't you think I was good to you?"

"Yes…" Astoria admitted.

He needed to push a bit harder. "And with all those articles released by the Daily Prophet and Witch Weekly, I like to think that no one takes those tabloids seriously, but there has been so much disruption, I haven't been able to go to work."

Cue a sniff and a slight tremor in his voice… "And you didn't do anything to clear up the rumours. Don't you think it makes sense they wanted to do something for me?"

Astoria sighed. "I know what you're trying to do, and it's not going to work."

"Yes, but they were doing this because of me, and really I wasn't going to bring this up but you were at fault—"

Astoria sighed in the telephone. "Look Draco, I owe you a lot… and the way I acted… that's not something I should have done, but that's a separate matter. They shouldn't have trashed my house and embarrassed Theo like that. Guilt-tripping me is not going to change my mind."

And with that, Astoria hung up on Draco.

Back in the holding cell, Hermione finally calmed down to assess the situation. Pansy was calling Draco to try to get them out. She didn't need to excel in Divination to know what Draco would do. Knowing him, he would have called Astoria and manipulate her.

Well, seeing as it had been more than half an hour since Pansy's call and there had been no further news, it meant his ruse failed. She hadn't expected much and was fully prepared to accept the consequences. The first step, therefore, was to take the matters into her own hands. Hermione stood up from the bench and called out to the officer. "Excuse me, may I please make a call? I haven't made my phone call yet."

Determination surging through her, Hermione punched in Astoria's number and took a deep breath. After five rings, Astoria picked up. "Hello?"

"Hi Astoria, this is Hermione Granger here. I am here to apologise. I should have never stormed into your house and done what I did, and I should have called earlier. I am so sorry, this is my mistake. I am sorry to you, Astoria, who had to deal with two crazy people flying into your home and destroying your furniture and punching you. I am also very sorry to Theodore Nott, who I made extremely uncomfortable. I am also sorry to the possum, whose body was used as a weapon of fear. I am sincerely sorry, and I am so ashamed of myself and I promise I will never do it again.

"two wrongs don't make a right," Hermione continued, making sure she was speaking evenly and not too quickly. "And please tell Nott again… that I am so sorry for doing that to him. I am reflecting on my actions and I don't know how I could possibly make it up to up to the two of you. To tell you the truth, I was the one who came up with the idea of bringing the roadkill into your house."

"That really crossed the line, Hermione. I can't believe you went out of your way to do that to Theo. What were you thinking?"

"I wasn't thinking at all, but that is no excuse. I am so disgusted with myself right now, and I have absolutely no excuse for doing something like this. I am so sorry. I can only ask you to forgive me and Pansy for doing this to you. But please, don't think this is a ploy to guilt trip you into getting us out. Regardless of whether you decide to press charges or not, I will come again and apologise properly and ask for your forgiveness again."

"You shouldn't think it is that easy to be forgiven."

"I understand," Hermione replied, her head in her hands. "It is totally up to you to decide." With that Hermione apologised once again for disturbing Astoria and Theodore so late at night and hung up.

Astoria sat in stunned silence on her couch. At the end of the room, Binky had swept up the last shards of the broken vase and everything was now spotlessly clean.

Theo's mouth hung wide open. "Wow."

"Hermione Granger was kind of cool, shamelessly admitting her mistake," Astoria said, shaking her head in disbelief before letting out a huge sigh. "I guess that's what makes her so different from the rest of us."

Pansy smirked at Hermione. "Do you think that would actually work?"

"What work?"

Pansy shot Hermione a leery grin and started elbowing her. "You know apologising so they feel guilty?"

"Huh?" Hermione said, frowning at Pansy. "I wasn't trying to guilt-trip her. Actually, I bet that was what Draco tried to do. Since it didn't work for Draco, who Astoria actually feels indebted to, I doubt it would have worked for me."

"Then why apologise?" Pansy asked. "If you weren't saying sorry to get us out, what was it for?"

Hermione shot Pansy a look. "You mean aside from getting someone to do what you want, you don't know what an apology is for?"

"Puh, of course, but who apologises these days? In this economy?" Pansy chortled.

"Um, me?" Hermione said. "Do you know what the best thing to do in this situation is? Always face the truth. People expect you to make excuses and justify your own wrongs. It's just common decency to own up for your wrongs."

"Wait, what, you're serious?" Pansy asked, incredulous. "It wasn't a scheme to shock them so they don't know what to do?"

Hermione shrugged. "Yeah."

"You're not joking are you?"

"I'm not. This isn't a particularly new concept: we should say sorry for what we do, and face the consequences of our actions. It will be unpleasant, but that's why we shouldn't have done it in this first place."

"Merlin," breathed Pansy, "you're saying all of this for real aren't you? I can't believe you! You used our last phone call to apologise to that wretch? I thought you were on Draco's side!"

"I am… but we still need to say sorry," Hermione said firmly.

"Really," Pansy said, still sceptical.

For the next hour, Pansy spied on Hermione, to see if her expression had changed, to give away the fact that Hermione had been playing with her, and this was some long, extended ploy to trick Pansy into thinking she was sincere.

An hour in, Pansy realised Hermione truly was just apologising, because even after the officer had let them out, explaining that Astoria wasn't pressing charges anymore, no amount of nudging, praising and general cackling could induce a quick wink or beguiling smirk from Hermione, to show off a scheme well devised and executed.

[half an hour ago]

Too shaken from the whole experience, Hermione had decided to travel the non-magical way. Where the heck was it again? In front of the restaurant they had frequented not too long ago, Hermione started running with such violent vigour, observers would have assumed she was being chased. Her frantic search stopped when – there – she spotted it. A tall-ish brick building with a dark green door. Draco's abode.

When Hermione pounded the door, her nervousness escalated as Draco eyed her with quiet astonishment. For the second time that night, Hermione invited herself into another person's home, though this time she wasn't carrying any bag of road-kill.

"Well yeah, sure come in," Draco muttered more to himself before closing the door behind him.

For what happened subsequently, Hermione figured it was the shock of being on the wrong side of the law that was to be blamed.

"I didn't know why I agreed!" she cried out, as a person might if he or she were confessing to the most heinous crime.

"Trust me," Draco said when he recovered from the shock of Hermione's flashy entrance. "This isn't even the worse of what Pansy could have done. You probably did better than you thought in restraining her."

"No, you don't get it," Hermione said, grasping at words that came tumbling out too fast for her mouth to follow. It was strange to see smart-mouth Hermione rendered speechless.

"What don't I get?"

"That's what I thought I was there for. But it wasn't; I was there to take revenge!" Hermione burst out, stepping back to put some distance between herself and Draco.

"That's it?" asked Draco, stepping towards her again grasping both of her arms and wondering why she looked so shaken at this revelation.

"I was out to get revenge, for you!" Hermione clarified.

"That's all right," he said. "I mean, what you did was not okay, but the intention behind it is appreciated. To be honest, I'm secretly happy you and Pansy cared enough to act like that."

Draco's last words brought her back to her senses with a jolt. The rush of panic and confusion had faded and any desire to continue her outburst had started to fade. She wrung her hands, trying to figure out how to get out of this encounter in the least awkward and clumsy way possible. "I'm sorry."

"For what? That you care?" Draco asked, and this time he shot her a wry grin.

No, but… she wasn't about to admit that in front of Draco right now. She took another step back, away from Draco's grasp and decided to hold it in for now. She lifted her hand, about to give into the urge of acting on her newly found revelation and whims and shatter the illusion that she had acted out because she had watched him get hurt and wanted to comfort him like the good work mate and friend Draco no doubt was certain she was. But when she thought it about more and noticed the dark circles under his eyes from the sleepless nights he undoubtedly suffered through because of the demise of his relationship, her hand fell back to her side, and she took a deep breath.

Even though it was clear to her now, and no doubt such a conviction would no doubt grip her for a long time to come, the thought of explaining herself more clearly, in his living room was not in the best interests of any party. Yet, the thought of telling him, sometime in the future, when his wounds were healed, when her emotions were settled filled Hermione with a strange sense of elation.

"I'm sorry for all the ruckus tonight," Hermione said, and excused herself, trying to remain as poker-faced as possible. "Good night."

Draco gave Hermione a small smile, sensing she had more to say, but dropped it. "As I said, there is nothing to apologise to me for. I'll see you tomorrow, Granger."

Hermione gave a brief nod, and when she rested in her bed that evening, she was in agony, mortification and anticipation. It would be difficult to face him tomorrow, even if it were not for her late-night intrusion to his home, and ever the more so when she had just started to understand why she had just made an incredible fool of herself.

And to answer Draco's question honestly for herself, in her own private room, completely uninhibiting her mind, sprang a solidarity thought like the first bud of the stem of a winter-addled plant. Affirming his statements wasn't a shock to her. Hermione cared about Draco. A lot.

She'd accepted a long time ago she admired him intensely for making such marked improvements in his own life through his own efforts. That for the last month – she could admit to herself at least – she valued his companionship above everyone else. If she had any thought in her she would have wanted to share it with him first. And his sudden relationship with Astoria had stirred in her heart something so akin to jealousy, the only way she dealt with it was to ignore it.

But admitting it like this didn't make small of the issues which deterred her from explaining herself properly to Draco. She still needed time by herself to understand what she wanted in her life. Draco, too, needed time to heal from whatever transpired between him and Astoria – though she had a good window to what technically occurred, she had no entrance to his thoughts she could peruse to understand how he truly felt. It also didn't change the long convoluted history between them, of enmity, uneasy friendship, partners in crime (literally), rivals and enemies again, and then a steady friendship they had shifted through.

From the glow of the hands of her clock on her bedside table, she could see that it was almost three in the morning. Hermione tugged her bed sheets which had slipped off the side of her bed so that she was warm in the darkness of her room. She would keep silent, for now, and hope Draco would not understand the real meaning behind her visit.

Thus concluded the first week of February.