Before I Fall Any Deeper
Chapter One - Every Rule I've Ever Made
"So, I guess I'll open the discussion this week," Harry started, forking some rice into his mouth, and then switching over to chopsticks.
"What discussion?" Ron questioned, shoving several strips of boneless spare ribs into his eagerly awaiting mouth."The one about our personal lives," Hermione answered, holding back a sigh; it was the same every week. The three of them had lunch together once a week, at a different spot, and always discussed their personal lives (ie: "Ron's dating Pansy? EW!" and "Harry, you can't possibly date Ginny. It's just gross.") and everything else as well. Just like old times.
Except it really wasn't like old times, because Hermione held back a lot of information, and made up a lot more, so that Ron and Harry wouldn't disown her. Even at twenty-five, when they all lived all on their own miles away from each other, she still needed them desperately. And to have them drop her for some stupid mistake she'd made one night when she had been drunk would be too much for her to endure.
"Yeah," Harry said, breaking Hermione out of her thoughts. "Who are you dating this week?"
"If you wanted to be more hip, you could ask who the flavor of the week is," Ron stated, half laughing.
Harry shot him a look that plainly stated he didn't want his input on 'hipness'; Ron merely rolled his eyes, being used to this sort of thing.
"I'm not dating anyone this week," Hermione replied, gingerly putting some sushi in her mouth; she had grown quite fond of it lately, and when the boys had asked how and why, she'd had no answer for them other than "I just have" which didn't really put the questions at bay."Well, I am," Ron stated briskly, not missing the thankful glance Hermione threw him. "I met this bird at work last week, she's new, you see. She's going to be the new assistant. So I said I'd show her the ropes. That'll start tonight, I've made reservations at that new swanky place in Diagon Alley."
"Show her the ropes of what, exactly?" Hermione asked, giggling.
Ron winked at her obviously. "The ins and outs of the job, of course."
Hermione nodded slowly, giving him a disbelieving look; she turned to Harry. "What about you, Mr. Potter?"
Harry shrugged, letting his gaze fall away from her; his eyes traveled around the room quickly and then spun back to look at Ron. "Nobody this week, I'm sorry to report."
"We really must be losing our touch," Ron stated sadly, lowering his head. "To think that The Boy Who Lived can't even get himself a date. What has become of this world?"
"They've moved onto bigger and better things," Harry answered stoutly. "Like Oliver Wood. He rang me up yesterday and had the bravado to ask if I'd do an article on him for The Daily Prophet."
"I know that. He thought he was ringing Seamus."
Ron slugged back some soda. "How the bloody hell did he confuse your number with Seamus'?"
"He got the number from Lavender; Oliver said 'I need the number for Seamus Finnigan,' and she said, 'Who?' like she couldn't remember. So Oliver says 'Ginny Weasley's residence, please' being businesslike. He wasn't sure if Lavender would remember Ginny, either, but she did."
Hermione's eyebrows knitted together in thought. "What has that got to do with you?"
"She thought Ginny and I were living together," Harry explained, eating some more rice.
"You broke up years ago!" Ron laughed, then stopped abruptly. "You never lived with her, did you?"
"No." Harry rolled his eyes. "I would have told you. Or you'd have found out somehow."
Ron seemed satisfied with this and went back to his food. "What's Lavender up to, anyway? Other than being flighty."
"That's pretty much it," Hermione remarked tiredly. "I saw her last week when I was coming out of Flourish and Blotts. She was getting another crystal ball, because one of her customers threw her old one across the room. Did you know you can't repair crystal balls by magic?"
Harry and Ron both ignored her; she often got educational comments into their conversations, but they never paid any attention. The way they figured it was that they were out of school, so they didn't have to learn anymore if they didn't want to.
"Oh!" Ron threw his chopsticks down in horror. "I just remembered!"
Hermione and Harry turned to him expectantly.
"I was at Quidditch practice last night and guess who turned up?"
They exchanged glances, shrugged, and turned back to Ron, who was looking a bit on the annoyed side.
"Draco Malfoy." Ron mistook Hermione's harsh intake of breath and started patting her hard on the back, thinking she'd started choking. She pushed his hand away and gasped down some water before Ron continued. "He said he came by to 'make amends.' Didn't believe it for a minute, of course, so if he shows up at the Ministry, Harry, be ready for him."
"Make amends?" Harry echoed, glancing quickly at Hermione. "What for?"
"I don't know. He just said 'Weasley, it's time for bygones to be bygones' and he HELD HIS HAND OUT! For me to SHAKE!"
Hermione rolled her eyes. "Oh, please, Ron. What's the big deal?"
"If he thinks he can torture us for years and then assume that once he starts being nice that we'll be all buddy-buddy, he's quite wrong."
Hermione shook her head. "I don't know why it matters, anyway."
"In case you don't remember, he is on an opposing team. He's not allowed at our practices. He shouldn't have been there."
"I think you're missing the point, Ron," Harry said thoughtfully. "WHY does he all of a sudden want to 'make amends' as you say? Doesn't he loath us with every pore of his being?"
"That's probably a bit drastic, Harry," Hermione scoffed, swallowing another mouthful of water.
Ron and Harry turned on her. "Why do you think it is, then?"
Neither of them missed the slight coloring of her cheeks as she flushed, but neither commented either. She struggled to think up a possible excuse, but came up blank.
Harry detected something strange, and would not let it lie. "Have you seen him since Hogwarts?"
"Oh, maybe once or twice, sure. I mean, he's in the office a lot doing his dutiful reporter bit when he's not crushing people's skulls on the pitch."
"Has he said anything to you?" Ron questioned, leaning towards her.
"Er, no, not really."
"Anything mean?"
"No."
"Anything NICE?"
"Erm."
"Hermione."
"He might have asked me out."
Ron and Harry's mouths dropped open in shock.
Hermione hid behind her hands, coloring even deeper with each breath she took. "Once or twice."