Summary: Hermione's life is left in pieces, all because of Draco. She finds herself lying often, betraying her friends' trust.
Draco meets a mysterious woman, who has a thing against him. He finds himself spending more time than he cares to stomach with Kyle Thompson—the only guy to ever win Hermione's heart.
As for this mystery woman, well, there's a deeper meaning than Draco could ever comprehend as to why she's sneaking around, bent on being there at every turn of his life. A deeper meaning that she herself doesn't want to remember.
Disclaimer: I don't own anyone but Carrie, Kyle, Hope Potter, and Hope Woods…Who I bend to my demented will. I have the final say in their fictional lives!! MWAHAH!! Lol, jk…sorry, I'm not really that creepy, I promise.
Chapter Five: Worthless Apologies
Draco scratched his head, looking a little embarrassed about the other day. "Look, Hope, I'm sorry if I made you feel…anything bad you might have felt," he began, biting his lip.
There was a sigh from across the room. He winced. It sounded terrible, and he knew it.
"Um…I really appreciated the fact that you cared enough to look out for me, but I'm just unbelievably picky. So maybe…you could just forget that ever happened—"
"Mister Malfoy, Slinky thinks that your words are beautiful. But, if Slinky may, he really needs to get back to the Kitchens, sir," the house elf said timidly.
"Yeah, yeah, just go," Draco sighed, waving his hand. "It was a disgustingly stupid idea anyway," he added in a softer tone. "I sound like the most idiotic git, practicing to a house elf…"
He buried his head in his hands, blinking a few times. Running a hand through his tousled hair, he peeked into the mirror he had been glancing at the fidgety elf in.
"You're a mess," Draco whispered to himself. "Falling all over yourself for an unavailable witch, while thinking about Hermione the entire time. Then, you let yourself grow bitter over a family memory."
He scoffed. It was a good thing Thompson was still at work in the Ministry; or else he'd be ragging on him for talking to himself like a common house elf.
Draco still had to wonder if Hope had been avoiding Kyle's manor because of the scene that he had caused after walking out on that old witch.
In a way, he felt really terrible, because he must've put down Hope a lot. Which was something Draco had promised himself he would never do again to another woman. Not after the fiasco in seventh year.
There I go again, thinking about bloody Hermione!
Finally, Draco just decided it was best to just write Hope a letter of apology and have his trusty owl deliver it to her.
So he sat down, and began to write his fifth letter while at this place. Draco knew it would short, sweet, and to the point. He was always a man who liked to cut to the chase.
Hope—I am sincerely sorry if I hurt you in any sort of way the other day. I really appreciate that you care enough to look for houses for me. I hope our argument didn't keep you from showing up here these past few days.
Please write back or something, so I know if you're…still upset or something.
--D.M.
Ok, not very tactful, but it was the best he could come up with.
He whistled for his owl, Damon, holding out the rolled parchment. When he landed on his shoulder obediently, Draco whispered, "Take this to Hope. It's fairly urgent."
His owl gave an affectionate nip, a hoot, and took off.
It was only when Damon was a mere dot in the sky did he realize he probably should have specified her last name.
~*~
Hermione glanced worriedly at Carrie, who was sick with the fever.
Her temperature was high, and it had been for the past few days. The mediwitch they had gone to see did as best as she could, but she was certainly no Madam Pomphrey.
Hermione gently touched her daughter's forehead with the back of her palm, and was a bit relieved to find that it was certainly cooler than it had been.
Carrie coughed for a few minutes, and weakly whispered, "Mummy?"
"Yes, darling?" Hermione whispered back.
"I'm feeling better."
She laughed, and hugged her daughter. Hermione wasn't quite sure why she laughed, but it was probably because she had been so serious for a long time.
"I'm going to get you a glass of water, ok?"
Carrie nodded, coughing again.
Hermione walked briskly to the kitchen, and filled up a small glass of purified water, before leaning against the counter wearily.
So much had been happening the last month or so of her life.
She wasn't quite positive why she chose the name Hope for her "new identity", but she did.
After finding the potion that enabled her to change her appearance, Hermione searched for a good name that didn't invoke suspicion. Of course, choosing the name of your best friend's wife isn't exactly laying low.
As for the last name…well, that was completely random.
"Mum!" Carrie hollered hoarsely.
"Coming, sweetie!" Hermione yelled back, rushing towards the bedroom.
~*~
Hope Potter stared at the strange owl in her room. "What do you want?" she asked softly, glancing over at James.
The majestic owl hooted, sticking out its leg.
She reached out hesitantly, unrolling the parchment. Her eyes scanned over the letter written in a lovely handwriting, and frowned.
"DM?" she asked out loud. "Who in the bloody heck is DM?" she inquired, gazing curiously at the owl. "I don't know this person," Hope said firmly, shoving back the parchment. "Shoo!"
The owl hooted indignantly, ruffling its snowy feathers. It shoved the letter back out persistently, nipping her finger.
"I said shoo! I don't know any DM! Go away before my husband comes home!" Hope protested, unable to believe she was yelling at a strange owl.
The owl refused to move.
"Fine! I'll take the stupid letter. But I'm not paying you, mind you," she hissed, checking on James again.
The damned owl finally took off, not glancing back at her.
Hope sighed, tossing the letter in the trashcan in the bathroom. "Damned owl," she whispered, sure that impressionable James hadn't heard his mum.
"Darling?" a deep voice called after she heard a door swing open. "Where are you and James?"
"Harry!" Hope yelled back, relieved. Rushing to the living room, she smiled. "You wouldn't even begin to believe what just happened!"
Harry's green eyes twinkled, as he grinned. "Try me," he replied good-naturedly, wrapping his arm around her waist. "I could do with a good story."
"Why? Was work bad today, Harry?" she asked worriedly.
"No, it was fine. Just a bit tedious, and my secretary's being a huge prat," he answered breezily, dismissing the topic. "Now about this weird excitement?"
Hope sat on the sofa, and frowned. "The strangest white owl just flew into our window, and insisted I took this strange letter," she began, wrinkling her nose. "It was some strange apology written to me—I think—but the thing was I've never heard of this person."
"Who was it from?" Harry asked, leaning forward. "I don't like the sound of this at all."
"Now, Harry, don't get all worked up and worried, I'm sure the owl simply made a mistake. Anyway, it was signed by a 'DM'," she finished, sniffing.
"DM?" her husband asked, jumping up. "No way. It can't be…I mean—"
"Honey, what are you going on about? You sound like a raving lunatic. It's the one thing that isn't becoming on you," Hope teased, patting his hand.
"Do you think it could be Draco Malfoy mailing you? That git always did hate me…"
"Draco? I've never spoken to him in my entire life!" Hope protested. "I've never met any sort of Malfoy, only seen them in pictures. Why would he just up and mail me?"
"To bother me? I thought he got over that a long time ago! It's not as though I meant to send his father to Azkaban—"
Hope jumped at the name of the dreary prison.
"I enjoyed it thoroughly, yes, but it's not as if Lucius didn't get out…" Harry continued musing. "It's been so long though! He wasn't particularly nasty in our last year, so I only assumed…"
"Would you care to explain?" Hope demanded, pursing her lips. "I know you're the famous Harry Potter and all, and that you've done extraordinary things, but…"
"I never told you?" he asked, furrowing his eyebrows, in an adorable way. It certainly softened her indignant feelings.
"No. I'd much rather know the situation if this Draco is trying to harass me. Although…the letter was fairly friendly. It was strange, albeit, but still. There was a certain tone to it that doesn't quite scream 'stalker'."
"Well, there are things you and I don't know about Draco Malfoy. But I do know that he's sneaky, clever…" Harry began, with a far off look on his face.
Hope tilted her head with interest. "Oh?"
~*~
Draco sighed, wondering what was taking Hope so long to reply. It was quite simple, really.
He was just starting to get up when a painfully familiar owl flew into his opened window, and landed on the writing desk.
"Damn," he cursed. "Forgot to shut the window!"
Reluctantly, Draco approached the owl, and snatched up the letter in its claws. "Here," he spat, handing her a Sickle. That's all I'm giving you."
Desdemona, the owl, flew off, and Draco was sure she was glaring at him with her feathers.
He knew it was foolish to have thought he would get off so easily. Lucius was not readily shaken off.
You think you're clever, do you? Just taking off without a word. I assure you, son, that while you may have been harder to track down, this is not over with.
Your sheer arrogance is rather obnoxious. Now, I'll leave you with this warning. But don't think you'll get off so lucky if I have to get you myself.
You will be home in two days. Be grateful I'm giving you time to pack, and bid your farewells—which is not something I do often.
I won't accept failure to comply with my demand. You know what failure means, Draco. I think you know a bit too well, but it hasn't quite sunken in, has it? Your mother was always a failure, too.
--L.H.M.
Draco let out a low growl. How dare he insult his late mother!
The demanding son of a bitch, Draco thought hatefully. I absolutely refuse to do anything of the sort! I'm a grown wizard for Merlin's sake!
There was a knock on the door, and Draco quickly shoved the damned letter into his pocket. "Yes?" he called through the door.
"It's Kyle. Dinner's ready," Kyle yelled. In a more sarcastic tone, he added, "So if his majesty would kindly grant us with his presence…"
Draco glared at the direction of the door, grumbling. " 'If his majesty would kindly grant us…' " he mimicked, flinging it open. "I'll grant you with my fist in your face…"
~*~
It was the end of the week. The day was sunny and bright, despite what the promises of the day brought. Wind gently blew through the trees, simulating the sound of rain.
Hermione even had to check. She bit her lip.
Ron was due back home any hour now. The moment of truth was coming up at the same time.
She felt better leaving Carrie home with the sitter, now that Carrie was much better. All she had to do now was wait for call from Harry…
Hermione paced her kitchen anxiously, hearing happy laughter floating into her window from outside. It was as though they were gloating. Mocking her, because she faced the chance of losing her own friends.
Ring. Come on, ring, she silently commanded the phone desperately. Harry has to call, Lou Ann needs to get here, and Carrie needs to behave. Most importantly, those boys had better understand.
Willing things with her mind to work in her favor wasn't quite the brightest thing to do. It would jinx her for sure.
"Ring!" Hermione yelled, slamming her fist down on the counter. "For Merlin's sake, I really need this day to be over with," she moaned, leaning over the surface.
I've gone stark-raving mad, she thought, staring wearily at the patterns in the counter.
Funnily enough, the second the phone rang shrilly in her ear, Hermione jumped, clutching her chest.
Shakily, she raised the phone, acting as if this would be her last conversation before he death. "Harry?" she asked hesitantly.
"Hermione, I'm glad I reached you! Ron's running a bit late, I'm afraid. Stupid git overslept. So he called to tell me he'd be apparating over in an hour. Can you handle that?"
Hermione cleared her throat. "Of course I can. Ok…bye."
"See you later," Harry added, before she hung up the phone.
"As if I had a choice," Hermione added under her breath, staring angrily at the phone. "Ron really needs to hurry the bloody hell up before I go insane!"
The doorbell rang, and she knew it was Lou Ann, Carrie's babysitter. Well, it was a brief reprieve, anyway.
~*~
Dinner was tense. There was no denying that.
Draco sat across from Kyle, who was tensely eating his soup, staring straight ahead at the wall. This was your average meal.
"So," he began, clearing his throat. "Do you know where Hope is?"
Kyle resisted the urge to drop his spoon and toss a fork at Draco. It wasn't as if he could provide a real answer himself. It would be suspicious. Dropping his spoon with a loud clang, he glared at Draco. "No. I don't."
Draco nodded. "Fair enough. Did she ever mention the other day…?"
"No, can't say that she didn't. Anymore questions?" Kyle asked harshly. "Because if not, I'd like to finish my soup and go up to my study."
Draco gestured to the door. "By all means," he smirked, brushing back a lock of pale blonde hair.
Kyle stood up, just leaving his unfinished soup sitting on the table. "If you'll excuse me…"
After he had left the stuffy dining room, and gotten to his study, he checked the clock. By now, Hermione should have been going to go meet Ron and Harry.
~*~
Hermione had decided it was a lovely day out, and she should go to Harry's the old-fashioned way, and walk.
Birds had chirped, trees swayed gently with the soft breeze and the sun beamed down, caressing her skin with its warmth.
In other words, it was a day completely opposite to the way it would turn out in the end.
Hermione predicted a fight between herself and her friends. She was bracing herself for the worst, and had a bleak outlook on what might happen at Harry's house.
By the time she knocked on the door, she was a complete nervous wreck, practically sweating, and her heart racing furiously.
She was greeted by the warm smiles of Ron and Harry. Even his wife (her other identity's namesake), Hope, was beaming at her. It was rather unnerving, and she almost yelled for them to stop grinning like the Cheshire cat.
But instead, Hermione nodded politely, sitting down on the sofa nervously, folding her hands instantly. She cleared her throat, eyeing her three friends nervously.
In all truth, Hope had nothing really to do with the future declaration, but didn't have the heart to ask her to leave.
"So…how has your week been?" she asked them in a squeaky voice.
Harry looked at her strangely, regarding her with careful emerald eyes. "Fine…" he answered slowly. "A few weird incidents involving an owl, but nothing major."
Hope nodded in agreement, but said nothing to further back up the story. She gazed around, avoiding any particular spot. Hermione found this peculiar, but ignored it.
Ron beamed, his lively blue eyes twinkling with excitement. "It was brilliant. Charlie showed us a few dragons, and Fred got one to breathe on George, who got mildly burned. But don't worry, Mum fixed him up quickly," he added, seeing Hermione's horrified expression.
"Oh," she replied, tilting her head. They were acting as if nothing were wrong, and they were back in Hogwarts.
"So, how was your week?" Harry asked kindly, gripping his wife's hand. "Was it exciting?"
Hermione opened her mouth, prepared to relay the week's events. But then she realized it was the wrong thing to do, as they knew nothing about her real life now. "I—You know, that's what I need to talk to you guys about."
Ron nodded encouragingly, and Hope gave her a distracted smile.
"So…erm…Harry, could I use your bathroom, please?" Hermione pleaded suddenly, feeling desperately ill.
Harry looked confused, but gave a slight nod of his head. "The door next to my room," he reminded her.
She jumped up, racing for the bathroom. She was going to hurl, and she was going to hurl now. There was no bloody way to tell them without dying on the spot.
They'd never speak to her again, they'd hate her, and they'd ignore her…
Hermione stopped her negative thinking at the sight of crumpled parchment in the trashcan of the bathroom.
Unable to hold her curiosity, she grabbed it, and opened it up delicately. Maybe it was something that would explain Hope's unease. Perhaps she and Harry had a row before Ron arrived?
Instead, Hermione dropped the letter immediately, gasping for air. It was from Draco. Upon closer examination, it was plain to see that it was an apology note to Hope. Or Hermione, beings as she was masquerading as a witch named Hope Woods.
Remembering that it was meant for her, made her breathe more easily, and she read over the words again with a slight smile. Draco still cared after all.
Oh, don't even try thinking he still cares for you. This was meant for the lovely Hope Woods, not Hermione, her mind scolded.
Then Hermione bit her lip, wondering what the original Hope and Harry had thought of this seemingly random letter. Surely, Harry had recognized DM as Draco Malfoy…
Without a second thought, she burst out of the bathroom, holding the letter in her hand. It was certainly a way to break the ice…
~*~
Harry listened to Ron's wild predictions as to Hermione's big secret problem with amusement, and anger. Each situation got worse and worse. If Hermione had one of those problems, who knew what would happen between the formerly inseparable Trio.
"Merlin, Harry! What if she's pregnant, and has been secretly having an affair with…with…Crabbe?!" Ron yelped, looking horrified.
Harry clenched his jaw, and relaxed only when his wife reassured Ron, "Don't be ridiculous. Why would she hide something so huge?"
It was true. This was sensible Hermione they were gossiping about. It made him feel guilty, for thinking Hermione could be so stupid as to be a part of one of these outrageous scenarios.
Ron was just about to think up another one when Hermione cleared her throat, looking flushed with embarrassment.
He shot Ron a dirty look. She had obviously overheard the last one.
"Um…" she started nervously, wringing her hands, with difficulty. Harry noticed the parchment in her hand. "I think…Harry, have you read the letter from Draco?"
Harry shot her a bewildered look. "You went through our trash?"
Hermione nodded slowly. "It just looked out of place, I'm sorry. Please answer the question."
"Er, yes. I've seen it. I find it rather odd that Draco would write to my wife so suddenly, and it's disturbed her a bit."
Hermione nodded again. "Ron, if you would read it, too, now?" she said, making it sound like a question, rather than a request, as she handed over the letter to him.
Ron's eyes skimmed over it, and he gave Hermione a doubtful look. "Am I missing something? I don't really get what this has to do with your thing…"
"It has just about everything to do with it," she replied in a quiet whisper. "I've been seeing Draco for probably a month now."
"Then he has a serious problem remembering names," Ron joked, and it was clear he didn't believe her.
"No. He has it right. I've been taking a potion, and pretending to be a woman named Hope."
Harry stared at her, refusing to let the words sink in. It didn't make sense, anyway. Hermione sounded insane, or drunk. She sounded drunkenly delirious.
"Here," she offered, withdrawing a simple vial from within her shirt. It contained a emerald liquid that seemed to glow. She brought it up to her lips, and drank a little bit.
Instantly, her familiar features changed, leaving Harry, Ron, and Hope bewildered, shocked, and a bit fearful.
"Do you get it?" Hermione asked in a voice that sounded nothing like hers. "I've been pretending to be someone else so I could talk to Draco. To be with him."
With that uncomfortable statement, she took out another vial attached to the necklace, filled with a dull blue liquid. Hermione took a sip, and she was normal again.
"But…why would you want to be with that scumbag?" Ron asked desperately trying to understand.
Harry refused to speak, or ask questions. He figured if he shut up, she'd break into a grin and yell "April Fool's!"
Hermione's calm expression changed to a more deathly serious one, and she looked very pale. Sick, even. "It gets worse."
But that wasn't important to Harry right now. She deserved this, if there was more, and it was worse.
She sucked in a breath. "Something important happened between Draco and I in our last year. And lately, I've been trying to find a way to tell him. This was the best way I could come up with," Hermione admitted, tears forming in her eyes.
Harry tensed, holding Hope's hand in a painful death grip. He was almost fearful as to what would come next.
"I've been stupid," she whispered, sinking to her knees.
No one made any movement to help her up.
"Please forgive me," Hermione murmured, tilting her head. Her chocolate eyes shone brightly with tears. "I'm not sure how you can, but…I'm so sorry! I didn't mean for it to happen like this—"
Harry interrupted her pleading voice. "Just tell us, dammit," he hissed harshly, his green eyes hardening. His icy cold voice was foreign, even to him. Even Draco would be proud…the bloody prat.
Hermione almost whimpered at the demand. She bit her lip. "You're not going to like it," was all she whispered, before passing out.
A/N: Sorry it took me so long to update! But floppy disks are evil, and wouldn't let me save…finally I found a good one. So here we are!
Once more, I'd like to thank all the beautiful people reviewing and reading. You guys rule, and I love the guesswork on the reviewer's parts. They are interesting to read how people think my twisted mind works. I think only one reviewer got it right, but I'm not positive.
Just to explain one last time: Hermione is Hope Woods. Hope Woods and Hope Potter are not the same people. They are completely different witches. So no, Hermione is not Harry's wife. And, people think Hope Woods and Kyle Thompson are engaged—they're not. It's just a ploy to get Draco off her back…lol, don't ask, I'm twisted.
As usual, I hope you guys really liked it, and I thrive on reviews!!!
[Submitted: August 11, 2003]