•••
Malfoy had called in sick for the rest of the week, according to Taura. Hermione wouldn't admit it to herself, but every morning since their almost kiss, she tried to look her best and even dabbled with makeup.
She wanted to see him and every morning she hoped he would be sitting at his desk, lost in thought writing notes upon notes for her to read. She still hadn't read his first notes that he'd given her because she was still trying to go over the texts she'd already read a second time so the work and notes are thorough.
A knock on the door filled Hermione's ears.
She somewhat panicked. She straightened out her outfit and sat in a proper manner. "Hermione." She heard a familiar voice purr. She laid her eyes on a dark haired wizard.
"Harry!" She exclaimed as she raised out of her seat to greet her friend.
They hugged and she returned back to her chair behind her desk and he on the desk chair.
They stared at each other for a couple seconds before Hermione found the words to greet him, "Harry, I'm sorry I am just so surprised. I haven't seen or heard from you for so long and I was beginning to get worried. How have you been?"
Harry laughed, "I've been a busy Auror, as I'm sure Ron as told you. Exciting to hear he gets back today."
Hermione sat and nodded, "Oh, yes, I cannot wait. Though I'm sad to hear he didn't like the dragon training." Then she grew curious, "What brings you here?"
Harry's smile turned into a line as he brought his lips between his teeth and he shifted in his seat. "I heard they assigned Malfoy to work in your sector and I just came to–um, check up on him? So to speak."
She felt as if her stomach weighed 100 tons as it sunk at the sound of his name. Why would Harry need to check up on Malfoy? She thought he was out on good behaviour. "W-why does he need to be checked in on? If that's not too much to ask."
"Well he was a Death Eater, first of all, and we need to keep some sort of contact with all of them," Harry pushed his glasses closer to the bridge of his nose while avoiding eye contact, "But, he was also on our close watch list."
"Meaning?" She grew scared. All the thoughts she had about former Death Eaters swirled around her conscience once again. He was plotting something. He wanted to gain access to confidential files. He used her. She cursed herself mentally as she waited for Harry's response.
"We have a couple reasons why people are put into close watch lists. One, for example, is deeming them to be suspicious or remaining loyal to Voldemort's wishes, I guess one would say."
Nodding was the only thing she could do at this point. Nod and listen. The little voice in the back of her head was laughing at her decision to take in a Death Eater in the first place. She knew she shouldn't have. And now what files had she exposed him to? The files of her life's work. Who knows what other files he had access to. Godric, she was dead from the neck up.
"But, there's also a close watch on those who have suicidal tendencies or thoughts of seriously injuring themselves. We, um, w-we deemed Malfoy to be one of these cases."
Her hurricane of doubts and curses stopped swirling and stood still. She looked at the Chosen One in disbelief. "Malfoy? Suicidal?" Was all she could get out. She could only picture the self-absorbed, spoiled-rotten pureblood he was in their younger years.
Harry nodded. "I'm not supposed to enclose this kind of information. But he, on multiple occasions, has attempted to end his life, alongside other former Death Eaters. I, personally, had to talk some out of making that decision. Malfoy was one of them."
Her dry throat clicked as she tried to swallow. She felt sick and suddenly began to shake when a realization entered her mind. "Harry," her voice cracked as she stood up and began to speed walk out of her office, "Malfoy hasn't been to work all week."
All week he's been gone, and she told him to contact her if he had made any other breakthroughs with the case. He hasn't contacted her once. Maybe she was overreacting, but then again maybe she wasn't. Malfoy wouldn't contact her if he felt as though he wanted to end his life or seriously harm himself. He couldn't even look at her after what had happened.
"Taura," Hermione called as she approached the witch's desk, "Did you have any direct contact with Malfoy this past week?"
Taura looked surprised as Hermione rushed up on her with the Chosen One on her tail. "N-no, Hermione, I haven't. It was Kingsley who told me he wouldn't be coming in on Wednesday. I'm unsure of why he wasn't in yesterday or today. Is everything alright?"
Hermione grew anxious and frustrated. "Harry, we have to go. Now." She said more sternly than she ever said anything before. She began to pull his arm when she came to a halt and Harry stood in front of her.
"'Mione, this is officially Auror business now. Please stay here and try your best to stay calm. I'll owl you later." He held her hand with both of his before he turned and disapparated.
She was out of breath and her heart was beating so hard she could feel the waves of blood coursing through her entire body. Surely he was alright. He had called in sick meaning it was him who called to say he wouldn't be in that day. Or at least he did on Wednesday.
Hermione's stomach and head were a mess as she tried to remain calm. She doesn't even fully understand why she's acting in such a manner, he's merely a colleague.
She walked back to her office quite fast and spent the afternoon by her window, drowning in multiple morning coffees and cups of her afternoon teas, waiting for Hedwig. She mustered up enough motivation to sit at her desk and read Malfoy's notes in attempt to distract herself, which actually worked for quite a bit. His opinions and the way he arranged his interpretations of the text were clear and concise, Hermione praised him for it. He also made a list of all the Laws currently in effect that the new Law would impact, which Hermione had thought of but never wrote down in a list. It was almost motivating to see how many Laws would be changed because of their work, and how many lives would be saved.
This didn't last long, however. She grew restless and anxious, pacing back and forth for an hour before ending up sitting at her window again.
Taura walked in quietly with another cup, looking at Hermione as if she would break down at any moment.
Hermione was almost unaware of Taura's presence as she stared at the sea of witches and wizards that filled the Ministry's main floor. They looked like small ants, all scattered about, constantly moving, talking, thinking. A word then popped into her mind as she watched the ants crawl in every which direction. Sonder. The realization that each passerby is living a life as vivid and complex as your own. She's always thought about this, even when she was younger. Before she knew there was a word for it. When she would go on annual summer road trips with her parents, they would take the same routes and Hermione would recognize restaurants, gas stations, and certain unique houses that they would pass every summer. She would stare into the windows of them and see people she'd never met in her entire life, but she would watch them go about their own unique days as usual. She would see the same people who lived in the houses she passed, and notice that their kids had grown bigger or they bought a new vehicle. To all of them, however, she was merely a passing car. This always amazed her.
She realized that no one could really know the story behind every person unless you get to know them. Then again, one could never be entirely sure as everyone had their own secrets and pasts. Malfoy, for one, would be a prime example. She hadn't kept up with what had happened with him and his family after the War. Swept up with the busy life of being the Golden Girl, the last thing she'd heard was that his father was put back into Azkaban and he and his mother were put under house arrest and probation. She couldn't recall for how long.
Malfoy, like the rest of the wizards and witches that made up the Wizarding World, had his own story. Perhaps he was filled with emotions such as guilt and sadness. Perhaps he'd lost his way, his purpose. She couldn't imagine what being confined to one's own home for an extended period of time would do to a person. Then again, he had taken on a vital role when it came to the downfall of Albus Dumbledore and Hogwarts and ultimately, the Wizarding World. Perhaps he deserved it. But to sit there and think that he could have possibly taken his life the past week because of all that, was extremely nerve wracking to Hermione. She was never one to take a life, even during the War. She couldn't imagine how he'd want to take his own, especially after being given this opportunity to integrate back into the Wizarding World and possibly be given back a life without dark promises to fulfill under an Evil wizard. This was something, she thought, she would never know the answer to.
"What's happened, Hermione?" Taura asked quietly.
Hermione quickly looked at Taura and at the window once again, "It's Malfoy," she cleared her throat, attempted to approach the topic as she normally would any other, "Harry came to check in on him because he's on a close-watch list. Apparently he's had," she paused in attempt to find an appropriate word, "issues regarding harmful acts against himself."
Taura sat at the corner of Hermione's desk facing her, with wide eyes and a small gape of her mouth. "Malfoy? Really?" She was as speechless as Hermione was when Harry told her.
Hermione slowly nodded and suddenly her words began to spill out of her like a dam that's breached, "And when I realized he hadn't been to work since Tuesday, I began to worry. I'm not sure why I'm this worried. I just hadn't known what he'd been through and it surprised me quite a bit." She stared at her hands as they fidgeted with each other. She began to think of how just 3 days ago her hands were wrapped around his torso and her stomach dropped.
"I almost kissed him, I think." She blurted out. Her own words surprised her as she looked over her shoulder at Taura, whose eyes had widened and mouth gaped even more. The dam kept breaking and the water kept flowing with a vigorous force, "I don't know what happened. He'd found a book regarding elves that I'd never read or heard of. I felt an overwhelming sense of happiness and suddenly I was hugging him and there was this... This silence between us." She went on without knowing why.
Taura sat still. And whenever Taura sits still, Hermione starts to grow nervous. Taura always has something to say. "What kind of silence?"
Hermione thought back to that moment. She could smell his expensive scent and feel his minty breath glossing her face. She could see his eyes, and how they weren't filled with sadness or fatigued anymore. "It was a comfortable silence. The kind you feel when you're alone with someone you've known them your whole life and you're able to enjoy each other's company without the need for conversation. I didn't feel awkward or nervous. I felt almost safe and content."
Taura's mouth curled slightly. "You enjoyed it."
There was hesitation, but Hermione gave in, "I think I did. But, I'm not sure if he did. He bolted out of my office the very second the silence was interrupted by that stupid owl," Hermione instantly thought about Ron and an ocean of guilt crashed over her, "That was the last I'd seen him." She stared down at her thumbs, who couldn't seem to stop fiddling with each other.
"Has Harry owled you back yet?" Taura broke the silence that lasted for what seemed like forever.
Shaking her head, she cleared her throat before she replied, "No. I've been waiting here all day."
"Why don't you take the rest of the day off. It's clear you aren't in the right mindset to be here. You can catch up on your TV programs and order in. It might make you feel better." Taura suggested with a hand on Hermione's shoulder.
It might be good to have a break. Maybe she's only had this breakdown because she's been overworking herself with this new Law. Being in a bit of a rut with the work, she'd grown frustrated and anxious. Of course she was worried about Malfoy, but perhaps she'd been projecting. Or, perhaps, she enjoyed the comfortable silence more than she'd like to admit. "I think that'd be good. Thank you, Taura. I'll owl you later."
Hermione rose from her work chair and slowly began to clear her office. Within a half hour, she was curled up on her couch, watching her TV programs as Taura suggested.
Watching TV programs didn't last long, of course the girl would murder the step-mother. She'd abused her and stolen the money the girl's father saved up for her before he died! These can be beyond predicable and cliché sometimes, she thought. Maybe that's the fun in them and why they continue to air these sorts of shows, it's not hard to predict what the outcome would be.
Unlike real life, she supposed, when anything could happen and there's no way of really knowing what or when. Hermione never enjoyed that part of life, never was interested in the element of surprise or uncertainty. Hated it, in fact. Feeling in control, making sure everything falls into place—that's where she thrived.
Lately, however, it seems everything is uncertain. It feels as though she's been living the same day over and over, achieving nothing. Seeing the same people, having the same conversations, reading the same books. The S.P.E.W. was her passion, ever since her Hogwarts days. But when something starts off so well and then halts to a stop with no further progression, there's a loss of motivation that seeps in along with feelings of guilt and frustration.
Then came Malfoy. It was like he pulled her out of a sinkhole and joined the mission she'd been going through alone. She was grateful for him. And his brain. She hadn't heard from Harry and with each second passing she grew even more worried. She felt nauseous every time she thought of him taking his own life. She would never wish for anyone to feel that way. Of course, she had her own battles with anxiety and depression, still does from time to time. Awful illnesses to endure, but having to endure them while being punished with little to no support is something Hermione couldn't imagine. He deserves better, even if he did do what he did.
"'Mione." Said a voice just behind her.
Scared the living Godric out of her, it did. She quickly turned to face it. Ron stood at the fireplace, face slightly dirty from the Floo powder.
"Ron!" She rose from her spot on the couch and made her way over to him. She wrapped her arms around him and felt at ease. His familiar musk filled her nose as she pushed her face into his chest and she enjoyed the hug until an intrusive thought came to mind. He doesn't smell of vanilla apple.
"You alright?" She asked when she noticed this hug lasted longer than usual.
Suddenly he was crying. "I'm sorry for these past two years." He sobbed into her neck.
Hermione was good at comforting people, but never knew what to say when they cried. She grew very awkward about him crying, even if it was her boyfriend of two years. "Ron, let's sit. Come on." She lead him to the couch.
They sat facing each other and Hermione tried her best to comfort him by holding his hands and wiping his tears. She quietly shushed him and gave reassurance until he was calm enough to speak. "I feel as though I've loved you my entire life and when I finally got you, I've done nothing to prove that I love you more than anything. After the War, we went our separate ways and I should've wrote to you more or told you I loved you often. I thought about you when I woke up and when I went to bed, and every moment in between. When something good or bad happens you're the first person I want to tell. I miss you and the calmness you bring me. And I should have told you all these things because I love you," He stumbled between shaky breaths and then looked at her with his hand resting on her cheek, "I do Hermione. I love you. And I've been a foul boyfriend."
Hermione's stomach exploded with butterflies and she sat there speechless with teary eyes. This is why she loved Ron. He's a clueless git sometimes, but when he feels like reassurance and appreciation need to be given, he's not afraid to give it. She leaned into his hand, "I love you too, Ron." His hand wasn't as warm as the other one that had held her cheek days before.
They kissed once again shared a night of longing and passion. Hermione attempted to teach Ron to cook the Muggle way, which ended horribly. She tried again with baking and it ended similarly. They laughed and laughed until their stomachs hurt. They talked and confided in one another as best friends-turned-lovers do. They lied in bed facing each other, talking non sense that made sense to them and them alone. Soon enough, they were asleep, their breathing matching each other's.
•••
A knocking at her bedroom window woke her up and she sat up scared to death. When she realized it was Hedwig, she looked at Ron who was still sound asleep and slowly slipped out of bed. She opened the window and saw he brought a letter. She pet the bird before taking it and sending him off. She looked back at Ron, almost nervous to wake up, and opened the letter quietly.
'Mione,Malfoy is okay. He had an episode, a bad one at that. He refused any help at first, but we took him to the psychiatric wing at St. Mungo's and he seems to be stable. I don't want to share the explicit details because I don't want you to worry more than you already are. Rest assured he is safe and recovering. I'll be by soon to explain further. Try to get some rest.Harry"What's that, 'Mione?" Ron groggily wondered.
With a panic she stumbled, "Nothing. Just a letter from Harry."
Ron turned to the clock, "At 3 o'clock in the morning?"
She set the letter down on her dresser and nodded, "He's been busy I supposed. Hedwig woke me up."
She instantly felt guilty for keeping the contents of the letter from Ron. She didn't know why she did either. Malfoy's a colleague and she was simply worried about his well-being. However, saying she was relieved would be an understatement. She felt a weight lift off her chest and felt as though she could breathe again. He was alright, safe, and recovering.
Ron was fast asleep as she climbed back into bed with him. His breathing always soothed her. She had a million questions zipping through her mind at once, as usual. How long would Malfoy be at St. Mungo's? Will he come back to work afterwards? Or will he need time off? Obviously he'd need time off. She was willing to give him anything he needed in order to find himself again. Can he work from home? They can communicate through owls, if the Ministry allows it, and apparently telephone calls. Hermione still found that peculiar; a telephone in Malfoy Manor. She smiled at the irony. Would he still be interested in working with her? He seemed to be doing okay with the work, but it wasn't the most interesting for him, she supposed. She could interact with him more, be less, well, herself. Why did this letter have to come at the early hour of 3? Now her mind is racing and the questions won't stop.
She looked at Ron and listened to his breathing. She was more than half asleep when she unconsciously started to imagine it was him breathing. Next to her; safe and recovering.