"What is this commotion over here?!" Madam Pomfrey's screech broke the tension in the room. "Miss Granger, Mister Malfoy! Shouldn't you two be in class? Head Prefects, to not say the least! And Miss Brown!" She had spotted the writhing figure on the ground. Striding over, she performed the counter-curse, leaving Lavender panting heavily in a heap on the floor.
"Hermione…" Ron took the momentary silence to pull at Hermione's hand. He opened his mouth, but no words came out. His blue eyes were bright, with some sort of new found fascination, or maybe tears — Hermione could not tell.
"Do you remember now?" Hermione stared at him intently. Ron nodded slowly, swallowing hard.
"It's all a bit fuzzy," he whispered, "But it's coming back… and I'm so so sorry —"
"Out! Out! Get out!" Madam Pomfrey had finished checking up on Lavender and with a wave of her wand, an invisible hand pushed the brunette and blonde out the Hospital Wing.
The door slammed behind and Ron went out of sight. Hermione leaned on the cold metal frame, raising a hand to brush her curls back. Malfoy looked over at her and suddenly reached out to touch her face, his fingers caressing over her cheeks, wiping away the tears that had lingered. Startled, Hermione raised her gaze to his, only to meet a curtain of thick lashes shielding eye contact. As his cold touch connected with her damp cheeks, Hermione shivered. She had not realized she had been crying — everything had all been too much, what with the heart attack Lavender had given her when she had barged in.
"I thought you stood guard, and promised me you wouldn't let anyone come in," she sulked, crossing her arms
The hand retracted at once, and Hermione immediately regretted her decision. But then it came back, but this time to slightly pinch her cheeks before letting go. Hermione felt the place where he had touched grow hot. Turning abruptly so that Malfoy could not see her flushed face, Hermione started down the corridor.
"You try getting your groin kneed next time." There was a joking lilt to his voice, but Hermione could sense that Malfoy was a bit miffed at being treated like that.
"Pftt…" Hermione could not hold it in anymore as she pictured the disgruntled Malfoy from before, and broke out into uproarious laughter. "Sorry —" she managed to force out between her gasps.
"Ugh," Malfoy rolled his eyes, "You just have to rub it in every time."
"I do it all for your own good, darling," Hermione grinned, "You can't live without me."
"I suppose I really can't," he smiled back.
Turning toward Malfoy, Hermione could see that he had stopped, his silver eyes, illuminated by the torch fires in the corridor, fixed unblinkingly on her.
Crap. Hermione just registered what she had said, and what he had replied. The grin slipped off her face. Then, as if the fire from the torches were not enough to keep the two in a circle of light, the darkness of the corridor pulled Hermione back from Malfoy, and she remembered the things she heard in the same gloomy hallways. That cold and menacing Draco Malfoy leered at her, with words of scum raining down. She could not, for the life of her, connect the two impressions - the cold-blooded Malfoy heir and the boy who had kissed and touched her so very softly.
"I meant —," Malfoy seemed to have sensed her change in mood and was struggling to fill the space with words.
"No it's fine," Hermione cut in, her voice mechanical, "Ron's out again and everything is fine." Everything was not.
"Thanks for helping today," she continued, "and with Lavender's potion." She paused, and the silence stretched between them like a million light years.
"And with the charade about being my boyfriend," Hermione finally forced out. She wanted to scream at him, about how she thought he had changed and how he had raised her hopes only to let them fall heavy back onto the cold ground. Malfoy's gaze, which had been so piercing before, dropped down to the floor, his silver irises nearly morphing into black. His pale lashes fluttered a little as he peered through them at her face.
"I think it would be best if we don't talk from now." If they talked, all Hermione got was more and more and more confused. "Goodbye, Malfoy."
Turning, Hermione trudged off in the opposite direction. With half her heart still left behind.
The news of Lavender Brown spiking Ron's drink with love potion had already spread through the school like wildfire and when Ron had entered the Great Hall that morning, people came in from all sides to clap him on the back, jeer at his stupidity (credits to the Slytherin table), or apologize about how they have treated him. One platinum-blonde Slytherin, surprisingly, refrained from making any snarky remarks and instead bowed his head down and continued munching on his toast. When a brunette with bushy curls entered the double doors, however, he looked up, his hands already half raised to wave her over but stopped midway. She had given him a fleeting glance as she stepped into the Great Hall, but quickly averted her gaze when she noticed him looking over as well.
"'Mione!" Ron's voice could be heard distinctly over the chatter and Draco narrowed his eyes. He watched as walked over to the waving redhead and plopped herself down beside him. A surge of anger engulfed his lungs and he felt as if air was stuck in his throat, making him unable to breath. He had an uncontrollable urge to rip the redhead away from the bench Hermione was sitting on and throw him into the school lake. As the pair started talking animatedly, Draco tore his gaze away, his heart giving a painful lurch.
"You know I had no idea about that love potion, 'Mione," Ron was still gesticulated fervently, "Imagine! A love potion… I didn't even know how it got in my cup! Sorry 'bout… everything." Hermione shook her head.
"It wasn't your fault Ron," she said, although there was something nagging in her brain that still blamed Ron a little for what had happened. Ron let out a breath he had been holding and reached to grasp her hands.
"It's good that I'm back now… that we're back now." His blue eyes twinkled down at her and his lips pulled back into a small smile, but all Hermione could remember was how Draco's eyes had winked down at her whenever she laughed. Ron opened his arms and Hermione leaned in slowly, patting Ron awkwardly on the back. The smell of the Hospital Wing was still on him and Hermione wrinkled her nose at the smell of stinging medicinal herbs. She opened her mouth after the hug, wanting to tell Ron about everything but with his large babyish grin plastered on, Hermione found herself unable to vocalize any of her troubles. Instead, she gave him a small smile and continued with her breakfast. This would have to end, and she would find a way to break it to him — but it could wait.
"You have to tell him Hermione," Harry and Ginny said in unison, sitting up from their beanbag couches. Hermione had paid the two a visit, back in her old Gryffindor common room, and immediately felt at home. She slouched back into her sofa armchair, relishing the moment of peace and quiet the room gave her.
"I know I know I know," Hermione pounded the cushion on her armchair with her fists, "But when?"
"Maybe after dinner today?" Harry suggested, "You shouldn't keep him hanging. And hey, I feel like you have something you're not telling us. Are you still thinking about Malfoy?" Merlin, Harry had really grown these past years from the clueless boy he was before. Taking in the surprise on her face, Ginny smirked.
"He's definitely learnt a thing or two," she flipped her hair behind her shoulders, "My three years of work finally paid off." Harry turned to her, pouting, and she swooped in to give him a kiss.
"Get a room guys!" Hermione threw her cushion at them before burying her face in her hands. "Have I told you about why we broke up?"
"No," both replied carefully, unsure about when Hermione would blow up again.
"I overheard him," Hermione's voice came out muffled, "with his Slytherin friends. He said I was just a tool to get Parkinson off him" —which she was, technically, and she hated herself for lying — "and that I was a filthy mudblood."
"What!" Both had stood up, their voices burning with rage.
"Even after the war?" Ginny growled, "I thought he would have changed after everything that happened!"
Harry, however, let out a long breath— much to the surprise of both girls.
"It's not that it's correct, 'Mione," he dragged out his sentence slowly, "It's very wrong and I would go out right now to jinx Malfoy back for you. But I genuinely think he likes you. We've seen the way he looks at you." He nudged Ginny and she nodded grudgingly.
"Yeah," Ginny admitted, "He's different around you."
"During my fourth year, I got to know the Pureblood Society more; the graveyard Cedric and I were brought to and the Death-eaters there…" Harry looked at her intently, "He's really just scared… of everything that concerns his heritage and bloodline. He dares not oppose it, and what else could he have said when cornered by a large gang of his former cronies who still lived and breathed those disgusting values?"
Just as Harry ended the sentence, his gentle gaze still fixed on Hermione, the tardy bell rang.
"Merlin's pants! Is it time for afternoon class already?" Ginny whirled round and started packing her bag.
As they went their separate ways, both gave Hermione a meaningful look.
"Give it some time, I'm sure Malfoy will make it up to you," Harry called,"And remember to talk to Ron!"
