Disclaimer - See first chapter.
To my reviewers - Please don't hate me for being a hypocrite! Chapter six is finally here, I'm very sorry for the delay. I'm not quite sure where to take this story now. I know where I wanted it to go originally, but you all had different ideas! I'd like to write what you want to read, but also stick to what I want. So do you want Ron to stir things up a bit? Come back? Would you hate it if things weren't happily ever after for a little bit? Please review and let me know so I can update quicker!
Biohelixx - Ella will speak, of course. Wouldn't be a proper "drama" if she didn't! I always thought a Hermione/Draco relationship would be kind of dysfunctional if it ever happened, so that's what I'm aiming for. Bear with me, please! And you have a point, local phone calls don't cost much, do they? I guess I wanted to stress that Hermione wasn't making much money in her job!
Anonymous - I want to keep it clean, too! There will be some romance, but nothing dirty. I promise!
May Houston - Yes, that does seem like something Molly would do if he committed a crime like that, doesn't it?
Thanks to PheonixRae, Amber, and Da pesky kid, too!
On with the story!
"Cuz I am barely breathing, and I can't find the air
Don't know who I'm kidding, imagining you care
And I could stand here waiting, a fool for another day
But I don't suppose it worth the price
Worth the price that I would pay..."
-"Barely Breathing"
Duncan Sheik
It had been five days after Hermione, Draco, and Ella's day at the beach. Hermione was absently shelving more and more books onto already over-crowded shelves. School had begun, so the number of shoppers had dwindled. Hermione saw a handful of witches and wizards each day. Most frazzled mothers who needed to send forgotten things to their kids, and the elderly, who had nothing better to do than read.
Hermione pulled at the hem of her grey sweater, and took out a tiny mirror to check on her make-up. So what if she was paying a little more attention to her appearance now-a-days? She hated the knowing looks Rosa kept giving her. So she'd finally met someone she liked being around. So what? Call the Daily Prophet why don't you?
Her sour moods didn't last too long these days. Most of her breaks she spent with Draco and Ella. Lunches, dinner out, little excursions. Draco and Hermione still spoke each night on the phone, as they still hadn't run out of things to talk about. She'd ask her opinion on this, he'd tell her about that, they'd argue, make amends, always ended on a good note. Hermione respected that about him. He wasn't afraid to argue with her. They'd fight over who the next Minister of Magic should've been, what movie they should see this coming weekend, where Ella was better off growing up. Draco hadn't mentioned going back yet. Ella was doing fine in California, why rush off?
Nothing serious had happened between Draco and Hermione, not even a kiss. They'd both be lying if they said it hadn't even crossed their minds, but still the most affection they showed was holding hands. Draco told himself it was because he didnlt want to startle Ella, even though she had grown very comfortable and close to Hermione. Hermione told herself it was because she just wasn't ready for that. However, it was safe to assume the only good reason was because neither knew how the other felt about it.
They were going out tonight for dinner, in fact, a new restaurant in the city of San Francisco. Ella had pointed to a picture of the city's lights in a magazine Hermione was looking through, so it was decided. Hermione would drive them down, after closing the shop and getting dressed.
Hermione wore a beautiful black dress, simple but elegant. She didn't want to look too dressed up. She was bringing a little gift to Ella, a silver necklace with a dove on it. Hermione stared at the person looking back at her in the mirror in her room, then smiled a small smile. Yeah, she was looking forward to this evening. She really enjoyed being in Draco's company, and he wasn't hard to look at either.
Just as she was walking out the door, an owl tapped on the bedroom window. Hermione hurried to let it in out of the wind, which was picking up. 'From Harry,' she thought. 'Might as well read it quickly, see if he won the tournament.'
Dear Hermione,
We won! We won! I wish you could've been there to see it! It was magnificent, the team played brilliantly! I caught the snitch inches from the ground! Oh Hermione, it was my finest hour! I feel like we just won the House Cup or something!
Enough with the modesty, eh? I'm sure that's what you're thinking. Hope everyone is well there, and I'm sorry I've been out of touch. Meet anyone new? Hey, I happened to have heard from Molly Weasly the other day. She sent me a good luck card and some fudge. Good thing some people never change, eh? Ron's dead. He committed suicide a while ago, apparently. She wanted to tell you herself, but I said I'd give you the news. Thought it might give you some closure. His family has come to terms with both his actions at Hogwarts and his death, I hope now you can, too.
When can I see you again?
With best wishes,
Harry
'Way to be subtle, Harry,' Hermione thought even as she began to hyperventilate. 'Dead?' She hated Ron for what he did to her, but she never wished him dead. Not even close to it. Had his isolation from everyone done this? This was her fault! If she had just let it go, not told anyone, he'd be alive. Either way, it was her fault he was dead. Ron was just a kid. How could he be dead?
The room began to spin around Hermione. She took quick, deep breaths, but she didn't feel like she getting any oxygen. She dropped the letter and stumbled to her bathroom's medicine cabinet. 'There were pills, those damned pills the doctor gave me,' she was thinking. Someone had given her pills for panic attacks like this one, something to relax her and calm her down. After just finding the little blue pills in their orange prescription bottle, her breathing slowed a little. She was supposed to take two with water. She took three, gulped some water, and threw another one back for good measure. She sat curled on the cool tiles of her dark bathroom for a few minutes. She checked her pulse a few times, and when she could stand, she washed her face quickly. She was paler than paper, but she reapplied her make-up with a shaking hand.
She drove to Draco's hotel on autopilot. He commented on her paleness, but she told him she was just tired.
"Are you sure? We could just stay here you know, order room-service."
"N-no, no. Ella's been looking forward to this."
"Okay, if you're sure. You look lovely, by the way." Draco commented with a smile.
"You don't look so bad yourself, sir." Draco was wearing black pants and a high-necked black sweater. No, he did not look like a vicar in it, he looked beautifully pale and graceful.
Ella was quiet, as always, in the back seat, but wore a deep red dress under a coat. When Hermione asked her if she was excited, Ella looked over and their met. Hermione knew that was a yes.
A few minutes into the drive, Hermione's shaking hands got the better of her and she almost missed a stop sign. When she started swerving into another lane, Draco ordered her to pull over.
She leaned her head onto her hands still on the steering wheel. Draco put his hands on the top of her head, and when she jumped, he told her to get out and let him drive. She didn't argue, but got out and they switched sides. When they were back on the road, it didn't even occur to Hermione to ask where he learned to drive.
"Hermione, what's the matter? Did you sleep at all last night? You're as pale as death." Hermione flinched when he said 'death' and she reached into her bag where she had stashed her pills. She swallowed another, and said,
"This will calm me down. Thanks, Draco." The rest of the ride was quiet, and the reached their restaurant right on time for their reservation. When Hermione stepped out of the car, she stumbled a bit.
"Whoops, stumbled on my own feet!" Draco gave her a worried look. He held Ella with one arm, and put his other arm around Hermione's waist. They were seated, and Hermione was paler than ever. They placed their orders with the waiter. They had been lucky enough to get a table with a view of the city, and Ella was watching it with the air of someone who suddenly expects it to all go away. You could see the lights of the city and the blackness that was the ocean. Hermione gulped her water, and answered every question quickly and bluntly. Draco knew something was wrong, but couldn't place his finger on it. Just as their appetizer was served, Hermione stood up and excused herself. Draco called after her, but she rushed away to the rest room. Draco got up and followed her. He called into the bathroom, but didn't get an answer. He motioned Ella over, and asked her to go check on Hermione. Minutes ticked by, and Ella finally came back out.
"Daddy, Hermione's sick." Ella quietly said.
Hours later, Hermione and Draco could be found exiting a city hospital. Draco had gaped at his daughter for an instant, then rushed into the rest room to find Hermione hunched over on the ground, paler than ever, and barely breathing. He had picked her up, grabbed Ella's hand, and driven to the hospital like a madman. Luckily, he hadn't been stopped by anyone. He found out Hermione had over-dosed on her panic medicine, and it had almost caused her heart to stop beating. She didn't have to stay the night, but her had been told she needed to be watched for the next few days. It wasn't a suicide attempt, they assured him. Just an accident.
'Just an accident.' He said over and over in his head. He was cradling Hermione in his arms as he walked back to the car. She was barely conscious, so she lay in the back while Ella sat uo front with him.
"Ella?" Draco tried to talk to his daughter. "Ella, I'm glad you spoke to me. You saved Hermione."
He got no reaction.
They drove back to Hermione's apartment; Draco had never been up there. He carried her up, Ella opening doors for them and pushing buttons for the elevator.
It was hours after she had passed out, and Hermione lay breathing quietly on her bed, the drugs she had been given were still wearing off. Ella was asleep in the living room, on the couch under many blankets. Draco was pacing around Hermione's bedroom, watching her, and looking at her things. He picked up photo frames, looked at the CDs in her player. Her was studying a moving photo of Hermione and Harry when he felt a hand on his arm. Hermione was standing behind him, holding his arm for support. She was regaining some color, and smiled peacefully.
"What are you doing in my room?" she asked playfully.
Draco smiled.
Next chapter soooon, but I wanted to post this now. Hope you liked, next chapter will be interesting!
Merry Christmas to those who celebrate!
To my reviewers - Please don't hate me for being a hypocrite! Chapter six is finally here, I'm very sorry for the delay. I'm not quite sure where to take this story now. I know where I wanted it to go originally, but you all had different ideas! I'd like to write what you want to read, but also stick to what I want. So do you want Ron to stir things up a bit? Come back? Would you hate it if things weren't happily ever after for a little bit? Please review and let me know so I can update quicker!
Biohelixx - Ella will speak, of course. Wouldn't be a proper "drama" if she didn't! I always thought a Hermione/Draco relationship would be kind of dysfunctional if it ever happened, so that's what I'm aiming for. Bear with me, please! And you have a point, local phone calls don't cost much, do they? I guess I wanted to stress that Hermione wasn't making much money in her job!
Anonymous - I want to keep it clean, too! There will be some romance, but nothing dirty. I promise!
May Houston - Yes, that does seem like something Molly would do if he committed a crime like that, doesn't it?
Thanks to PheonixRae, Amber, and Da pesky kid, too!
On with the story!
"Cuz I am barely breathing, and I can't find the air
Don't know who I'm kidding, imagining you care
And I could stand here waiting, a fool for another day
But I don't suppose it worth the price
Worth the price that I would pay..."
-"Barely Breathing"
Duncan Sheik
It had been five days after Hermione, Draco, and Ella's day at the beach. Hermione was absently shelving more and more books onto already over-crowded shelves. School had begun, so the number of shoppers had dwindled. Hermione saw a handful of witches and wizards each day. Most frazzled mothers who needed to send forgotten things to their kids, and the elderly, who had nothing better to do than read.
Hermione pulled at the hem of her grey sweater, and took out a tiny mirror to check on her make-up. So what if she was paying a little more attention to her appearance now-a-days? She hated the knowing looks Rosa kept giving her. So she'd finally met someone she liked being around. So what? Call the Daily Prophet why don't you?
Her sour moods didn't last too long these days. Most of her breaks she spent with Draco and Ella. Lunches, dinner out, little excursions. Draco and Hermione still spoke each night on the phone, as they still hadn't run out of things to talk about. She'd ask her opinion on this, he'd tell her about that, they'd argue, make amends, always ended on a good note. Hermione respected that about him. He wasn't afraid to argue with her. They'd fight over who the next Minister of Magic should've been, what movie they should see this coming weekend, where Ella was better off growing up. Draco hadn't mentioned going back yet. Ella was doing fine in California, why rush off?
Nothing serious had happened between Draco and Hermione, not even a kiss. They'd both be lying if they said it hadn't even crossed their minds, but still the most affection they showed was holding hands. Draco told himself it was because he didnlt want to startle Ella, even though she had grown very comfortable and close to Hermione. Hermione told herself it was because she just wasn't ready for that. However, it was safe to assume the only good reason was because neither knew how the other felt about it.
They were going out tonight for dinner, in fact, a new restaurant in the city of San Francisco. Ella had pointed to a picture of the city's lights in a magazine Hermione was looking through, so it was decided. Hermione would drive them down, after closing the shop and getting dressed.
Hermione wore a beautiful black dress, simple but elegant. She didn't want to look too dressed up. She was bringing a little gift to Ella, a silver necklace with a dove on it. Hermione stared at the person looking back at her in the mirror in her room, then smiled a small smile. Yeah, she was looking forward to this evening. She really enjoyed being in Draco's company, and he wasn't hard to look at either.
Just as she was walking out the door, an owl tapped on the bedroom window. Hermione hurried to let it in out of the wind, which was picking up. 'From Harry,' she thought. 'Might as well read it quickly, see if he won the tournament.'
Dear Hermione,
We won! We won! I wish you could've been there to see it! It was magnificent, the team played brilliantly! I caught the snitch inches from the ground! Oh Hermione, it was my finest hour! I feel like we just won the House Cup or something!
Enough with the modesty, eh? I'm sure that's what you're thinking. Hope everyone is well there, and I'm sorry I've been out of touch. Meet anyone new? Hey, I happened to have heard from Molly Weasly the other day. She sent me a good luck card and some fudge. Good thing some people never change, eh? Ron's dead. He committed suicide a while ago, apparently. She wanted to tell you herself, but I said I'd give you the news. Thought it might give you some closure. His family has come to terms with both his actions at Hogwarts and his death, I hope now you can, too.
When can I see you again?
With best wishes,
Harry
'Way to be subtle, Harry,' Hermione thought even as she began to hyperventilate. 'Dead?' She hated Ron for what he did to her, but she never wished him dead. Not even close to it. Had his isolation from everyone done this? This was her fault! If she had just let it go, not told anyone, he'd be alive. Either way, it was her fault he was dead. Ron was just a kid. How could he be dead?
The room began to spin around Hermione. She took quick, deep breaths, but she didn't feel like she getting any oxygen. She dropped the letter and stumbled to her bathroom's medicine cabinet. 'There were pills, those damned pills the doctor gave me,' she was thinking. Someone had given her pills for panic attacks like this one, something to relax her and calm her down. After just finding the little blue pills in their orange prescription bottle, her breathing slowed a little. She was supposed to take two with water. She took three, gulped some water, and threw another one back for good measure. She sat curled on the cool tiles of her dark bathroom for a few minutes. She checked her pulse a few times, and when she could stand, she washed her face quickly. She was paler than paper, but she reapplied her make-up with a shaking hand.
She drove to Draco's hotel on autopilot. He commented on her paleness, but she told him she was just tired.
"Are you sure? We could just stay here you know, order room-service."
"N-no, no. Ella's been looking forward to this."
"Okay, if you're sure. You look lovely, by the way." Draco commented with a smile.
"You don't look so bad yourself, sir." Draco was wearing black pants and a high-necked black sweater. No, he did not look like a vicar in it, he looked beautifully pale and graceful.
Ella was quiet, as always, in the back seat, but wore a deep red dress under a coat. When Hermione asked her if she was excited, Ella looked over and their met. Hermione knew that was a yes.
A few minutes into the drive, Hermione's shaking hands got the better of her and she almost missed a stop sign. When she started swerving into another lane, Draco ordered her to pull over.
She leaned her head onto her hands still on the steering wheel. Draco put his hands on the top of her head, and when she jumped, he told her to get out and let him drive. She didn't argue, but got out and they switched sides. When they were back on the road, it didn't even occur to Hermione to ask where he learned to drive.
"Hermione, what's the matter? Did you sleep at all last night? You're as pale as death." Hermione flinched when he said 'death' and she reached into her bag where she had stashed her pills. She swallowed another, and said,
"This will calm me down. Thanks, Draco." The rest of the ride was quiet, and the reached their restaurant right on time for their reservation. When Hermione stepped out of the car, she stumbled a bit.
"Whoops, stumbled on my own feet!" Draco gave her a worried look. He held Ella with one arm, and put his other arm around Hermione's waist. They were seated, and Hermione was paler than ever. They placed their orders with the waiter. They had been lucky enough to get a table with a view of the city, and Ella was watching it with the air of someone who suddenly expects it to all go away. You could see the lights of the city and the blackness that was the ocean. Hermione gulped her water, and answered every question quickly and bluntly. Draco knew something was wrong, but couldn't place his finger on it. Just as their appetizer was served, Hermione stood up and excused herself. Draco called after her, but she rushed away to the rest room. Draco got up and followed her. He called into the bathroom, but didn't get an answer. He motioned Ella over, and asked her to go check on Hermione. Minutes ticked by, and Ella finally came back out.
"Daddy, Hermione's sick." Ella quietly said.
Hours later, Hermione and Draco could be found exiting a city hospital. Draco had gaped at his daughter for an instant, then rushed into the rest room to find Hermione hunched over on the ground, paler than ever, and barely breathing. He had picked her up, grabbed Ella's hand, and driven to the hospital like a madman. Luckily, he hadn't been stopped by anyone. He found out Hermione had over-dosed on her panic medicine, and it had almost caused her heart to stop beating. She didn't have to stay the night, but her had been told she needed to be watched for the next few days. It wasn't a suicide attempt, they assured him. Just an accident.
'Just an accident.' He said over and over in his head. He was cradling Hermione in his arms as he walked back to the car. She was barely conscious, so she lay in the back while Ella sat uo front with him.
"Ella?" Draco tried to talk to his daughter. "Ella, I'm glad you spoke to me. You saved Hermione."
He got no reaction.
They drove back to Hermione's apartment; Draco had never been up there. He carried her up, Ella opening doors for them and pushing buttons for the elevator.
It was hours after she had passed out, and Hermione lay breathing quietly on her bed, the drugs she had been given were still wearing off. Ella was asleep in the living room, on the couch under many blankets. Draco was pacing around Hermione's bedroom, watching her, and looking at her things. He picked up photo frames, looked at the CDs in her player. Her was studying a moving photo of Hermione and Harry when he felt a hand on his arm. Hermione was standing behind him, holding his arm for support. She was regaining some color, and smiled peacefully.
"What are you doing in my room?" she asked playfully.
Draco smiled.
Next chapter soooon, but I wanted to post this now. Hope you liked, next chapter will be interesting!
Merry Christmas to those who celebrate!