Chapter 3
The silence hung for several seconds. Ginny and Harry looked equally confused and surprised. Ron looked furious.
"Why?" he asked, coming away from the table he was leaning on and walking towards her.
"I met him today." Hermione answered, immediately affronted by her husband's attitude. "Problem?"
"The problem is you shouldn't be talking to him!"
"Okay, first of all: who the fuck are you to tell me who I should be talking to?"
"I'm your husb—"
" Secondly: I just met him, how am I—"
"Just met him?! You've known him years!"
"—meant to know Ronald? I have memory loss remember?"
"How could I forget? It's all you go on about!"
"Oh you foul, loathsome—"
"I'm just gonna take this." Harry interjected, picking Hermione up by the waist and carrying her to the dining room. Hermione was wriggling furiously to get out of his grip but, despite how well the hideous fleeces hid it, he had grown into an extremely strong man.
"Talking to a man that watched you get tortured!" Ron shouted after her just before Ginny got a hold of him by the ear.
"Harry, you put me down this instant." Hermione yelled ferociously.
He got her through into the dining room before he dropped her indignantly on to a dining chair and shut the door. Letting out a deep sigh, Harry pinched the bridge of his nose before looking up at Hermione. "Hermione, I know how this ends. I've seen it a hundred times. You scream at each other, throw insults and eventually you pull out your wand and launch paper birds at him. It's tiresome."
Hermione huffed out a sigh and slumped down on the seat. It did sound about right.
"It's extremely unsatisfying being dragged out like that." She threw devil eyes at her friend, even knowing he was helping.
"Oh, trust me, Ginny will be doing the same." Harry said, followed by the sounds of Ginny shouting out her brothers address and a helpless yelp as she booted him in to the floo.
Hermione couldn't help but laugh when Ginny came in with a huge, smug grin on her face. "He always underestimates me." The ginger witch rolled her eyes. "But let's forget about him for now. What happened with Malfoy?" She sat down next to her friend and put an arm around her shoulder. "Do I need to hex him?"
Hermione laughed again, her temper quickly evaporating. "No, he was perfectly professional. He just seemed really… uncomfortable around me? Like we'd fallen out?" Harry and Ginny looked at each other with surprise.
"You really don't remember him at all?" Harry asked.
"No, it was like I'd never met him. I asked him what his problem is and he said I should talk to my friends about it so… who is he?"
Harry let out a long breath and rubbed his face with his hands. His beautiful wife reached out and pulled a hand back down to place a gentle kiss on it. This is what a relationship should look like, Hermione thought to herself. Her heart twinged as she thought about her own marriage in comparison. Harry and Ginny weren't perfect by any means, they fought like all couples do. Harry was too quick to make a judgement; Ginny was extremely petty at times. But they worked. And at the end of the day, they cared about one another and they showed it. Hermione's heart sank a little as she realised, she might never have that.
"Draco Malfoy… was an arsehole. At school, he was a posh little bully with thug mates to do his bidding. He was horrible to everyone and he had a lot of opinions about… blood status."
"I mean, that's not great but people change after school—"
"I was just easing you in." Harry clarified. A humourless laugh escaping his lips. "He was a Death Eater, Hermione. His father, Lucius, was Voldemort's right-hand man. They kept prisoners in their dungeons."
Hermione sat in shock. The same man she had spent a day with, managed to hold polite conversation with, had once fought alongside a man who wished she and her family were dead.
"Why isn't he in Azkaban? If he received the Dark Mark?"
"I defended him in court. Him and his mum, Narcissa. They both helped me, protected me. Didn't hand me over to Voldemort. The night we were captured…" Harry's face was now contorted in pain. Talking about the war was exhausting for him. Tears welled in Hermione's eyes.
"The night I got this?" She held out her scarred arm. Mudblood.
Harry nodded. "That night… Bellatrix Lestrange, his aunt, asked him if I was Harry Potter. You'd been smart enough to use a stinging hex on my face to disguise me." He threw a small grateful smile at Hermione, who by this point had tears streaming down her face. "And he could've told them. He knew it was me, but he didn't."
Hermione wiped her face with her hands in a desperate attempt to clear away the tears that didn't seem to stop coming.
"Did he really watch?" Hermione sobbed through her fingers.
"We only know what you told us, sweetie." Ginny answered. "You said he was there… and he didn't stop it." She stroked Hermione's hair out of her face. "To be perfectly honest though… I don't think he had much of a choice."
Hermione looked up to find Harry nodding in agreement. "We all did things we didn't think we were capable of. Things we never thought we would ever do. War forces you to make extreme choices." He said, standing up to walk around to Hermione. "Choices like running away from your family to find horcruxes, or wiping your parents' memories to save them." He squeezed Hermione's shoulder. "Or standing by as somebody gets tortured to save your own skin. To save your family." He crouched down to join his wife and Hermione in a hug.
Hermione sniffed and wiped away her final tears.
"He had to watch."
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The following morning, after a fitful night's sleep on the Potters' surprisingly comfortable sofa, Hermione woke up early and snuck out without waking her friends. They had stayed up extremely late, talking about… well, everything. Hermione's parents, Harry and Ginny's first kiss, Dobby… it was an emotional night filled with laughter, tears and, according to Hermione's headache, a bit too much wine.
Hermione did not want to impose any longer, they had done enough for her, so she slipped her shoes on and quietly left.
The house was quiet as she stepped out from the Floo. The clock was ticking loudly in the silence and the sofa was empty. Had Ronald not stayed here last night? Hermione wondered. She made her way to the kitchen to pour herself a glass of water, passing eight empty cans on the counter, so he had definitely been drinking here. More than he would usually drink, but at least it was beer instead of fire whisky. The whisky seemed to worsen his temper.
Hermione walked over to the kitchen table and placed her glass on a coaster before hopping up on to the edge; her feet swung freely beneath the sturdy wooden table.
A memory, strong and sharp, invaded her mind. A pair of tough, firm hands. Fingernails scratching hot, sweaty skin. The pounding of the dining table banging ferociously against the wall. Her eyes squeezed firmly shut, head thrown back in ecstasy, screaming. Feeling a satisfying, completing fullness between her thighs.
The memory threw her so suddenly she knocked the glass off the table. The sound of it shattering across the floor woke her from the moment and she yelled out in surprise.
Well, Hermione thought, we were clearly happy at one point. Her cheeks were hot and flushed. She brushed her hair behind her ear, embarrassed to realise that she had become wet at the memory. How had her and Ronald's relationship gone from that kind of passion to this kind of… disrespect?
"Hermione?" Ron's voice yelled from upstairs. "Is that you?"
Hermione hurriedly pulled out her wand and began cleaning up the smashed glass from the floor. "Uhhh— yes, it's me." She had hoped she could sneak in, get changed and get out without another argument.
"What are you doing?" he shouted from the top of the stairs.
"I dropped a glass." Hermione yelled back, disappearing the last traces of the mess. "I'll be up in a minute." She went to the mirror and assessed her pink cheeks. She felt very confused. She felt sexually awakened, but they weren't her real feelings, were they? How could she be attracted to somebody who treated her like Ronald did? She was just remembering old feelings, that was all. She shook the thoughts away and made her way upstairs.
When she got to the bedroom, Ronald stood up from sitting at the edge of the bed.
"I wasn't expecting you to be here." He said. He looked confused.
"I was just… coming home to get changed." Hermione explained, equally confused. "You know… for work?"
"Right, yeah." Ronald shuffled his feet and looked away. "I just thought you'd be avoiding me after yesterday.
"Well, to be honest, I was hoping to get in and out quietly…" Hermione went to the wardrobe and opened the doors with a dramatic flare.
"I'm sorry." He grumbled. Hermione turned to look at him. His brows were furrowed, and his eyes were full of sadness. "I'm sorry about yesterday. I was way over the top and… well, I was a bit of a dick."
"A bit?" Hermione's pitch rose an octave and spun back around and chose a crimson knee length dress from her wardrobe.
"Alright, a lot… look I'm trying to make it up with you here."
"I understand that but—"
"Please don't push me away…" Ronald was back on the edge of the bed with his head solemnly in his hands. "We've grown so far apart over the years. This could be a fresh start?"
"It was a fresh start two weeks ago, Ronald. Now it's just a missed opportunity." Hermione said. "Why would anything be different now?"
"I'm gonna really try, 'Mione! I mean it!"
Hermione looked at her husband and thought about the moment on the kitchen table she had just remembered. Could they really get back to that? Was this crumpled excuse of a man actually capable of pulling himself together long enough to hold onto her. She doubted it.
"I'm going out to get breakfast before work, we'll talk later."
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Walking through the town centre, Hermione could see why she had wanted to live here. It was a modest place with small, old fashioned buildings. Hanging baskets full of vibrant summer flowers hung off every lamp post and the warm breeze carried falling petals through the air. The streets weren't bustling, and she couldn't see a single piece of rubbish on the floor. It was a beautiful place to live, she thought to herself just as the smell of fresh baked goods reached her.
Following her nose, Hermione turned a corner just in time to see a head of shocking blonde hair disappear into a café.
Draco? Hermione thought as she moved without thought towards the building he had just entered. Her heart sped up and she started to get butterflies in her stomach. But why? Okay, she could admit he was attractive, and smart… and dreamy. Very dreamy, actually, but she was much more mature than this, wasn't she? As a grown woman, a married woman, she should not be feeling like this about a man she had just met. No. She was just excited, that was all. Excited to have found out more about him and who he is, so they can just put the awkwardness aside and maybe become friends. Yes, that was it. This is what starting a new friendship feels like. Sometimes.
When Hermione reached the café, she could see a cute, little, wooden sign above the door with the name carved into it; The Little Bean.
The image of a kind-faced man was conjured in her mind. He was dark-haired, with a pale complexion and a plump physique. He was greeting her with outstretched arms. His name tag said Paul.
Hermione, back with reality, looked hopefully through the window, only to be severely disappointed. There sat a blonde man, but it wasn't Draco. The stranger looked up at her, offering her a small smile. Hermione smiled back politely and turned away, feeling slightly embarrassed.
Why on earth would she think Draco Malfoy would be going to a muggle coffee shop in a small town like this? Why was I so excited at the thought of that? Why am I so upset that he's not?
"Hermione." A familiar, airy voice said behind her. Back where she had come from stood Luna and her husband who, Hermione was grateful to remember, was named Rolf.
"Luna!" Hermione exclaimed, hurrying over to her friend. "It's so lovely to see you. I'm so sorry I didn't reach out sooner, it's been so hectic." Turning to Rolf she added "It's lovely to see you too, Rolf."
"You're quite alright, Hermione." Luna assured her with a gentle smile, her big beautiful eyes drifting off in to the distance as she spoke. Luna had a way of being in two places at once: here in the moment and also somewhere only she could see. She brushed her blonde hair, which Hermione realised she had cut into a bob, out of her eyes. "What with the mind-altering spell attack, I think it's quite normal to have a hard time."
"I'm just pleased you remember me." Added Rolf.
"That along with all those wrackspurts in your hospital room…" Luna looked off into the distance.
"You came to see me in the hospital?" Hermione asked, surprised. Nobody had mentioned that to her. It was nice to know who cared enough to visit.
"Oh yes, your room was simply riddled with them." Luna linked her arm around Hermione's and gently guided her along with the pair. "We're going to get breakfast, if you fancy?"
Hermione smiled appreciatively at her childhood friend.
"That would be great."
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Authors note: I know there's not been a lot of Dramione going on yet but I promise it's coming! Next chapter will have a lot more Draco in it. Thanks for reading!