Ginny's birthday was certainly going to be something spectacular. She was now a full time member of the harpies again, having been flying with them for a couple of months and having played a couple of games with them – and winning.
Hermione loved Ginny, she was happy for the direction her life was taking, but she couldn't help the pangs of jealousy that surged through her at the thoughts of her best friend's success.
Great relationship with a man who goes above and beyond to make her happy, oozing confidence in every aspect of her life, her career is amazing and she is making leaps and bounds in what she does.
Hermione drank to numb that part of her. She shouldn't feel that way. She should be happy for Ginny. She should be grateful that fate had handed Ginny nothing but greatness. Afterall, she had lost so much and sacrificed so much in her youth that adult Ginny deserved the best.
While everyone was in the garden celebrating Ginny's combined birthday and return to professional quidditch, Hermione stayed at the back of the crowd. SHe imagined what her life would be like, if Malfoy hadn't taken Astoria back. If she had left that day like she wanted to. If she had broken Ron's heart, the way Malfoy had broken hers. If she had started a life with Malfoy. Would she have been welcomed at the Burrow? Would the Weasley's all hate her? Would Ginny even talk to her? Would Harry?
She looked around her and saw that no one really cared about the people at a party who were not there to party. Hermione was there, purely because this was Ginny and she lived there. She took her phone out and typed a message she knew she would regret.
HG - you completely messed up. I was so ready to leave. That day. I Had it planned. I had it all mapped out. I can't stand how much I love you. Yet, you broke my heart. Why can't I stop feeling like this?
DM – I'm sorry Granger, If I could take it all back I would. I'd be with you in a heartbeat.
HG – That doesn't fucking help. I suppose it doesn't matter now, does it? You're there, I'm here.
DM – I didn't want it to be like this. I still love you Granger. I'd give anything for you to know that.
Just like that, Hermione was sucked back in. Back into the emotions, back into the affair. Back into texting with him daily. She couldn't yet bring herself to meet with him alone. She had no way of knowing how she would react if he touched her.
So instead, they continued texting, continued telling each other how much they missed what they had, continued saying things one ought not say to another, when they were in a relationship with someone else.
In Hermione's mind, she could justify loving Malfoy. She could tell herself that it wasn't cheating, as long as they didn't act upon it. As long as their interactions were purely fantasy and as long as they didn't seek out opportunities to be with each other.
That was, until Hermione's birthday.
Ron had taken a leaf out of Harry's book, based on conversations between the two men that Ginny had overheard. Apparently, Ron had wanted to do something special for Hermione.
So when Hermione was asked by Ron to dress nice and meet him downstairs on the Saturday before her birthday, she obliged.
Outside of the burrow, waited a limousine with a driver and from the windows, the arms of Harry and Ginny could be seen.
Hermione's smile felt so genuine. Ron had actually done something fantastic. She kissed him on the cheek and made her way to the door, which had been opened by the tuxedo wearing driver.
She was on cloud nine. She sat beside Ginny for the drive to a place unknown, and sipped pink sparkling champagne, while the countryside flew by. She didn't know whether it was magic or muggle, but the trip seemed to take no time.
They arrived outside a club, which was flanked either side by a few other equally as flashy clubs.
When they left the limo, Ron nodded to the security guard on the door, and the four of them were ushered beyond the red rope, through the crowd and into the club. Hermione felt like she was 20 again. She was giddy and giggly and she instantly felt like dancing her cares away to the music. It was the best gift Ron could have given her. Somehow, just this once, he had done the right thing.
They were taken to a quiet back room where they were served a delicious meal, and treated to more sparkling pink champagne. Hermione was having the time of her life. She finished her meal amidst lively conversation and for the first time in what felt like, forever, she was feeling like her old self.
When their meals were all done, they were seated in the main club area, in a private booth, where they were once again, gifted as much pink champagne as they could drink. It wasn't surprising that Hermione was drunk pretty quickly, followed closely by Ron, who, after a while, had seemed to forget the it was Hermione's birthday.
SHe returned from the dancefloor, hot, sweaty and ready to sit for a while when he rounded on her.
"What the fuck was that?" he asked.
"Excuse me?" she asked him, taking a large swig of water.
"You were dancing all slutty like" he said.
"Oh fuck off Ron" she said, not caring now, how she spoke to him, nor who was around to see it.
"You were attracting the attention of every guy in here Hermione. It was embarrassing, watching you shake your ass all over the place" he said.
"Ron, it wasn't like that" Ginny interrupted.
"Shut up Ginny, I'm taking to Hermione" Ron said.
"Mate, you cant say that to her" Harry said, pulling him towards himself by his shoulder to redirect him away from Hermione and Ginny.
"Shes my sister, and shes my fiancé. I can say what I want" he argued.
"Don't worry Harry, this is how he talks to me all the time when hes drunk. I'm used to it" Hermione said.
"Fuck you Hermione, you cant just go and air our business like that" Ron said.
"Why not? I'm sick of everything thinking we have this perfect little life. You treat me like dirt Ron Weasley. Don't try and hide behind your hero status from almost ten years ago to excuse your shitty behaviour" she said.
Ron just looked at the three of them, sitting there glaring at him. He hadn't been lost for words in such a long time, but now it seemed he had nothing left to say.
"I'm going then" he said, before he got up and stormed out of the club.
"Well, there goes the fun sucker" Hermione said before picking up another drunk.
"You don't want to go after him?" Ginny asked.
"Ginny, its my birthday, if Ron wants to make a scene, belittle me in front of our friends and then storm off like a child, let him. He'll floo home, sleep it off and apologise tomorrow. I know this routine Ginny; I've lived it for years" Hermione said. The sad fact is, she was so so right. She had lived it; she knew exactly what was coming. And she knew that she would forgive him, come tomorrow, because deep down inside, Ron only said horrible things to her because he couldn't admit how much he hated himself.
"Let's dance again" Hermione said, pulling Ginny by the hand. Ginny, in turn, grabbed Harry and dragged him to the dancefloor.
It was such a good night. Hermione drank more, danced more, sweated a whole heap and had so much innocent fun for her birthday. She really needed to do this more often. She had missed just being young and free so much since she had fallen pregnant with Rose. Sure, months ago she had decided that she would get out more, enjoy dinners with colleagues, but that really had only happened a handful of times.
"I'll be right back I need the loo" Hermione said when Ginny and Harry were looking rather close on the dance floor. Hermione didn't really need to relieve herself, she just needed to get away from the feelings of jealousy that were trying to creep up on her.
She went via the bar to the garden where she found a lone seat in a far corner.
HG – Hey, you didn't wish me a happy birthday
DM – Its not your birthday
HG – But it will be
DM – and I'll wish you a happy birthday then
HG – what are you doing?
DM – Theo dragged me out to a club
HG – That's a coincidence
DM – Where are you
HG – I don't know the name of it. Some club in a strip of clubs
DM – One on the ends or the one in the middle?
HG – In the middle
DM – I'm next door I think
HG – That's crazy. If we were three months younger, we might have tried to get away and shag each other senseless.
DM – I'd still give it a crack
HG – Is that an offer?
DM – I would say no
HG – Give me 5 minutes. Meet me outside?
She sent that last message with butterflies in her stomach. It had taken her so much to get this far, to come so far from that urge to be with Malfoy and here she was, throwing it all away.
She threw her drink into a plant and made her way back inside, pushing through the crowd, towards the dancefloor where Ginny was slow dancing with Harry.
"Gin, I don't feel too good, I think this pink stuff has really messed me up. I'm heading home in the floo, but I'll see you soon?" she said.
"Do you want me to come with you? Ron can be a prat" she said.
"No, it's ok, I might spend the night at my parents old house" she said.
"Oh… right. Ok. Well, that's probably a good idea. If anyone asks, what do I say?" she asked.
"The truth" she said with a shrug, knowing that if anyone came looking for her that they wouldn't get past the wards. She had made it so that only she, or someone accompanying her could get in.
"Ok" Ginny said.
The women hugged each other before Hermione ran off in the direction of the back of the club, where she assumed there would be an exit. There had been a floo in the room where they had been served their meal, so if Ginny were to question her, she was heading in that direction.
She made her way to the back of the club, searching left and right down a long corridor for what could be a back door. She found an illuminated green sign that read exit and ran towards it, pushing open the door that stood below. She found herself standing in a dark alley between two clubs. There were no people around, so she instinctively pulled out her wand.
At the sound of commotion across from her, she began raising her wand, before realising she had seen Malfoy, elegantly stepping out of the emergency access door in the club next door.
He was everything she remembered him to be. Not that she hadn't seen him in a long time. On the contrary, she had seen him more times than she could count, but every time, she tried her hardest not to look too hard. Not to notice. Not to remember how his looks, his demeanour, his whole presence made her feel. He was tall and handsome, his face, angular, aristocratic but not offensively so. His brown hair was pushed back off his face and he wore a simple black button up black shirt with black trousers and shiny black shoes.
They didn't speak at all. When he saw her standing there, he strode across to her in two large strides and pulled her into his arms, lowering her wand arm, before turning on the spot and whisking them away.
She stepped back when they arrived at the very familiar Malfoy Cottage, so she could judge whether or not she was making the right decision. She was stunned at how much his presence affected her. It had been so long since she allowed herself to feel this way.
In one swoop, he was upon her, his lips on hers, his body pressed against hers as she tried her hardest to grasp onto any part of him that she could. All thoughts of right, wrong, good, bad, mistake or otherwise, were complete away from her consciousness. All she could think of was him.
Their clothes were off before their lips had had a chance to part and in mere seconds, Hermione was gasping for air as he pushed her against the wall, wrapped her legs around his body and entered her. He thrusted hard and fast, almost desperately, she thought. She didn't care, being around him was enough to make her wet beyond belief.
It was like a movie, Malfoy wanted her on every surface, on every bench, counter, floor space. He fucked, sucked, licked, kissed, teased and whispered to her through an unimaginable amount of orgasms and when he finally found his own release, they came undone together, muttering how much they wanted this to be something they could hold onto.
In the aftermath, Hermione laid in his arms, under a thin blanket on the floor beside the couch. It was the first time she hadn't had to go anywhere immediately afterwards. The first time she had made an excuse to stay out all night.
The idea of sleeping beside him was pure bliss. It would make this so real. It would make it harder to leave, but it would make it far more special. As her eyes began to feel heavy, she longed for a soft place to lay. He stood and carried her to the bedroom, clearly having had the same thought.
One in his bed, under the sheets, with the weight of the most expensive linen on her, she was suddenly aware of everything that this meant. They had not only had the greatest sex so far, but they had opened that flood gate again. Allowed themselves to feel the emotions, to express them. She allowed him back in, absolutely and completely.
She closed her eyes, hoping that her face contained the remnants of her being well and truly, thoroughly shagged, but couldn't help fear that it betrayed her deepest fears. She loved him. Her broken heart was stitching itself back together each and every time he touched her, ran his fingers through her hair, kissed her temple or told her he loved her. Which he did. And she said it back. again, and again until she felt herself drift off to sleep, with a subtle nagging in the pit of her stomach, desperately telling her that if… no, when, she got hurt again, it was her own fault.
AN - Insert collective sigh here. Yes, this one is a glutton for punishment and a man who knows what to do in the bedroom.