A/N: Once again, I ask please for ten reviews regarding Chapter 2 before I post the next chapter. But for now, enjoy.
Purple Rose
By: RomanceCharm
{Chapter 2: The Unexpected Loss}
Hermione pulled up in front of her house, and unloaded her son and his belongings. Carrying both into her home, she collapsed onto her couch, both to make James laugh; which he did, ever so gleefully; and because she felt drained. James scurried off the couch to the floor, to have more space to play with his toys. Hermione stretched out on the couch, trying to get comfortable. But no matter how many positions she tried, nothing seemed to soothe her. She sighed deeply; the condition of her emotions was overpowering her physical state, as it always did when she was depressed. Just as she was just starting to piece her life back together, Draco had to come back and break it apart. Why had he chosen the most imperfect time to return? She shook her head; he wouldn't have known that, though.
Maybe it was a sign, she imagined. Maybe she really wasn't meant to be with Harry. Hermione didn't really mind that, for she didn't love him romantically. But if not Harry, then whom was she meant for? Hermione deeply believed in soul mates, and had always been determined to find that certain someone that she was destined to be with. It certainly wasn't Draco, as surely no one who had caused her so much pain could be her lifelong partner. But, she realized, what he'd done had hurt so bad because she loved him, else it wouldn't have affected her as it had.
She turned and looked at her son, and a smile came to her lips the same time tears appeared in her eyes. Watching him play with his playthings, looking so innocent, he severely reminded her of Draco. Hermione hoped that James wouldn't grow up to be the player and heartbreaker his father had been during his teen years. And she certainly wished a pure life for him, for she never wanted to read her son's name in the headline of the Daily Prophet, with a story following that told of the vicious acts of inhumanity he had committed. Hermione wished with all her heart that if he were to gain some of his father's traits, a lethal attitude wouldn't be something he acquired.
James stood up and approached her, asking, "Mummy, could you turn on the T.V. for me?"
Hermione smiled at him. "Sure, sweetie." She reached up and obtained the remote control from the holder that draped over the top of the couch. James resumed his spot on the floor, immediately absorbed with the show currently on. Hermione just watched him for a few minutes, just happy, for once, that he had never met his father, and been influenced by him. Hermione would've hated to see her son's mind corrupted with ideas of hatred and torture at such an early age.
Finally, she rose from her seat, heading toward the kitchen to start on lunch. The doorbell rung and she froze in place in the hallway. She peeped into the living room, pleased to find James still lost in "Helen the House Elf's Story Time." Straightening out her clothes, she came to the end of her hallway, and opened the door. Draco stood before her and she gasped for the second time that day at his unexpected appearance, though his presence was less shocking this time around. "Draco," she addressed him politely, "Um, c-come on in."
The dark expression on his face brightened a bit at her invitation, and he followed her into the kitchen. Hermione sat down at the table, and Draco seated himself across from her. She promptly, but politely, asked, "Why are you here?"
Draco sighed. "Mya, I can't keep away from you. I know you said to stay away but still…I know that's not what you really want," Draco said, and Hermione looked away. "I don't understand why you won't take me back. Do you not love me anymore? Is there someone else?" he questioned quietly.
Hermione looked back to him and shook her head. "No, there is no one else. And…I-I do love you. It's just…" Hermione's voice faded, and her gaze transferred to the table.
"Just what, Hermione? What is standing in the way of us being together?" Draco asked.
Hermione hesitated, and then she replied, "You." Draco's face showed confusion, and she continued, in a lower voice, "You've changed, Draco. You're planning for a homicide, to kill your own father. I may not like the man too much, but isn't there any other way? I cannot have James associating with a murderer; I will not allow it, even if you are his father. Plus, how do I know that with your quick new temper, you'd never turn your anger on him, or me?"
Draco looked hurt at her accusation. "I could never do that. You have to believe me," Draco pleaded. "Just because my fury for Lucius has bubbled beyond boiling point, doesn't mean I'd ever lay a hand of rage on you or our son. I wouldn't be able to live with myself."
"And we couldn't live with you either. That's why I strongly recommend you see a counselor. Get your anger worked out a more peaceful way. No good will come of committing an act of crime, only more trouble shall come our way. Draco, please, just get some help. If not for yourself, do it for James," she begged him, grasping his hand across the table. "Do it for me," she whispered.
The man before her rose from his seat, and she too abandoned hers. He went the distance to reach her, and stood before her for a moment, just staring into her eyes. 'Don't crumble, don't give in,' Hermione mentally told herself, attempting not to get lost in those piercing blue eyes. Draco then reached out and took her into his arms, and Hermione fell apart. She clung to him; absorbed in the ecstasy of fulfilling a desire she'd had for so long now, to be held by her love. His arms wrapped tightly around her, and she breathed in the scent she had fallen in love with. Her tears spilled out onto his shirt, and he softly cooed her.
This made the yearning to just give in all the more desirable, but she still held on to some of her dignity. After a few minutes, she pulled back, and a leftover tear ran down her cheek as she looked up into his face. Draco held her face and wiped away the tear with his thumb, and then slid his finger to her lips. Oh, how she wanted to feel his lips upon hers…but he was slipping away, out of the kitchen and her house. Hermione ran to the front door, watching him get into his car with a set expression, one that she knew he wore to hide emotion.
As he pulled away, Hermione closed the door and collapsed onto the floor. How, after four years, did he still have the power to make her weak in the knees? She coveted for him; she had never wanted something so badly before in her lifetime. Hermione sat there, on the floor with her back against the door, curled up with her knees to her chest, sobbing her heart out, with anxiety for the future. Tears clouded her vision, but she couldn't mistake the small figure that appeared from around the corner, calling, "Mummy?"
"Hmm, um, yes honey?" Hermione quickly brought her hand to her face, both to wipe her tears away and to prevent James from seeing her cry. Yet her son approached her, and wrapped his little arms around her neck. Hermione welcomed his warm little hug, and smiled through her tears. "Thank you, sweetie," she said when she pulled away, "Mummy just needed a little boost there."
"It's okay, Mummy. Everybody needs to cry sometime," he said, and smiled at her, before he returned to the living room.
Hermione stared after him, ashamed of herself. James had seen her cry, he had witnessed his mother broken and hurt. How was she to comfort him, and tell him everything would be all right, when he knew that it wasn't for her? Hermione let out a meaningful sigh as she stood, and headed toward the kitchen to make lunch.
Weeks later, in May, James sat at in his high chair, playing with his food as Hermione tried to feed it to him. "Come on, James, honey, please eat," she pleaded, exhausted. The night before had been rough; James wouldn't go to sleep, still insistent on knowing who the blonde man from a couple weeks ago was, and why he made his mummy cry. He had asked her hundreds of times since Draco had come to the house, and Hermione told him once again that the man was a friend that had had a loss in his family, someone she had known. But James knew better, she could tell, though she didn't quite understand how. How could her four-year old tell when she was lying? She was too tired to think about it though, since it took her until the wee hours of the morning for him to settle down and fall asleep. Now Hermione lifted the spoon to James's mouth again, and he slurped up his mashed carrots. This was curious, seeing as seconds before he refused…Ah well, Hermione thought. At least he's eating.
Hermione dipped into his bowl for another spoonful when the telephone rang. She stared at the phone for a second, trying to figure out who would be calling at this time. Both Harry and Ron were at work. A second ring knocked her awake again, and she set down the spoon and hurried to the phone. "Hello?" she answered.
"Hermione, hey it's Draco," the husky voice sounded delighted to hear hers. 'How did he get my number?' she wondered, but let it go.
"Good afternoon, Draco. What's going on?" Hermione asked politely.
"You can drop the proper act with me, Mya. I know who you are," he insisted with an audible sigh. "Anyway, I wanted you to know that I took your advice, and I went and saw my counselor today. I really think he'll be able to help me, even though today was my first appointment. I'm doing this for you, Hermione, because I love you and I want to be with you. And also for James, because I've missed him dearly and I want to get to know my son," he admitted.
Hermione felt her eyes fill with tears of joy, and her heart leapt. "Oh, Draco, you have no idea how happy you've made me. Knowing that you're even just trying to straighten yourself out makes me feel like investing my time in you shall be worthwhile. Oh, I know you can overcome this, honey, you're a strong man. Just keep attending those sessions and soon we will be reunited," she told him happily.
"With that as my incentive, I'll never skip a visit to Dr. Noble. I miss you, and I eagerly await the day that I can see you again. Until then, I'll call you after every appointment to tell you of how I'm doing, unless that's a problem," Draco offered.
"Of course it's no trouble. I'd like to hear your voice every once in a while, and to be told of your progress will delight me. Yes, Draco, you can call me," Hermione agreed.
"Right then. Well, I'm going to go for some lunch. I'll talk to you next week, love. Goodbye Hermione," he said lovingly.
"Good day, Draco," she told him, and slowly hung up the phone. A smile crept onto her face. He really would come back to her, her Draco. James splattered his carrots all over his tray, and with a grin, Hermione tended to her son.
Later that day, Harry phoned and asked her if she and James would like to come over for dinner. Hermione accepted and started gathering James's things together when they'd hung up, telling James to get ready to go to Uncle Harry's house. "YAY! We're goin' to Unc'a Harry's house! We're goin' to Unc'a Harry's house!" he sang as he pulled on his green little jacket and his sneakers. Hermione shook her head after him with a smile as he ran out to her car, still singing. She slid into her own jacket, and with James's stuff packed and on her arm, she closed the door behind her.
At Harry's, he had prepared a fabulous dish of chicken, along with mashed potatoes in gravy, and corn. James loved corn, and devoured his helping of that first. As Hermione sipped from her wine, she looked up to catch Harry's eye on her, watching her wistfully. Hermione smiled meekly at him, and turned her gaze down to her food as she set her drink down.
Later, as James was sprawled out on the living room floor with his Quidditch coloring book, Harry pulled Hermione into the dining room for a private word. "Mione, I know that there was something more important you were going to tell me this morning. What is it? You know you can tell me anything. You don't have to hide anything from me," he said.
"Harry, it's really nothing. I just wanted you to know that I appreciate you being there for me," Hermione claimed, but Harry gave her a look that told her he knew she was lying. "Harry," she sighed. "I had come here earlier than usual this morning, to come to you with a proposal. I was ready to commit to a relationship with you-" Hermione started to say, but Harry had quickly pressed his lips to hers. She wanted to pull away, but she felt her body go limp and she could only bask in the warmth of his kiss. His arms went around her to steady her, and he kissed her sweetly, but hungrily. Hermione finally gained enough strength, and pushed him away. She opened her eyes to a confused Harry.
"If you had let me finish," she said adamantly, but politely, "you would have heard that I was ready this morning, but I have realized that it really isn't what I want. Don't get me wrong, Harry, I love you, but not in the way that you would've hoped. You are the best friend I could ever ask for, and I couldn't ask you to be more than that," she admitted.
Harry looked shocked for a moment, and then regained his composure. "But you could ask me to be more, and I would, for you. I care for you like I have no one else in my life. I…I don't think I can live without you much longer," he stuttered to say, and looked down at his carpet.
Hermione reached out and grasped his shoulders, and his head turned up to look at her again. "Of course you can, Harry. You deserve someone who loves you as a partner, and you will find her, I promise. I'm not her," Hermione told him.
"Yes, you are. There is no one else for me," Harry quietly said. "You are the only woman I've ever loved, and will ever love," he insisted, and held a hand to her face. But Hermione pulled away, releasing his shoulders.
"I'm sorry, Harry," she whispered, and left the dining room. The rest of the evening was full of tension for the adults, and Hermione stayed solely for James's sake. When it came time to leave, Hermione kissed a blank-faced Harry on the cheek, and departed with her son.
A week later Hermione received another call from Draco, and it lit up the dreary mood she'd been in since dinner at Harry's. "The doctor says I am on my way to recovery," he told her, his voice proud. "It will take time, yes, but he claims I'm off to a great start, knowing that I need help and asking for it. The day ever draws nearer that I shall be with you again, Mya, and I cannot wait."
June rolled around and with her work at the Ministry slowing down, Hermione had more free time. Visits with Ron grew more frequent, as they would with Harry if he and Hermione were on speaking terms. Hermione was worried that she had destroyed their friendship by not returning his love, and hoped dearly that Harry would come around.
Ron was at Hermione's house one warm afternoon, playing with James, when the topic of Harry came up. James had just settled down for the night, and Ron returned to the living room, his face set. "What happened between you and Harry? He won't tell me a thing, so it must've been pretty serious," Ron said.
"Well," Hermione sighed, and told him the whole of the situation. "Now I fear that I may have ruined the relationship we did have, because I don't feel as strongly for him as he does for me. It seems kind of unfair to me, that he would put our friendship on the line because he couldn't have me as a lover {A/n: As in girlfriend, not LOVER}," she concluded.
"You don't love him romantically?" Ron asked, and it was clear that he was surprised. Hermione shook her head solemnly and he laughed. "You could've fooled me. In fact, you did. I always thought you had a thing for our mate Harry, hugging him in second year when you returned from the hospital wing, and kissing him on the cheek at the end of fifth year. Well, it'll be Harry's loss if he cuts all ties with you because of how you feel, though I don't believe he will. You know Harry; he'll come to accept it. He's that way," Ron said with a smile, yet Hermione still wasn't convinced, and seeing that, Ron embraced her to comfort her.
"Thank you," she said with a smile as she pulled back from him. "Now, enough about my troubles. What's going on with your love life, Ron? Got a leading lady?" she teased.
Ron blushed and grinned. "Actually, I think I may. You remember Susan Bones, from our year at Hogwarts? Well I bumped into her at the Leaky Cauldron last week, and we got to talking. She's working for the Daily Prophet now, and she said she'd seen me play. I invited her to our next match. She's really a lot more outgoing now; I remember her as so quiet and shy throughout our schooling. So many from our class have changed so much," Ron noticed.
"Yes, indeed," Hermione agreed, her thoughts now thrown to Draco. "Well, I'm glad for you, Ron. It's about time you quit your role as the player," she teased, pushing Draco to the back of her mind.
"Hey! I wasn't ever the player, I just got my way around the game board, is all," Ron lied, and chuckled.
"Sure, Ron," Hermione laughed. Ron made a hurt face, and Hermione giggled and hit him with a couch pillow to smack the silly look off his face. He grinned, and started after her with another pillow. Throughout their fight, Hermione was truly grateful that she had a chance to abandon her troubles and just have fun.
After Ron had left, Hermione lay curled up in her bed, wondering if she'd ever hear from Harry. How she wanted to call him, but she wouldn't have anything to say. She couldn't stand the tension that separated her from her best friend, and she silently cried herself to sleep.
{End}
A/n: Well I hope that you are enjoying this story, please review and tell me what you think. Unexpected things will happen in the chapters to follow…
Please Review…I want ten!
:)
Laura