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Chapter 10: Inter-House Unity

You are my knight.

Cure and assure

And make me feel alright.

Heartbreaker, The Cardigans

Hermione stared at herself in the mirror. Her eyes were slightly baggy from lack of sleep, her cheeks slightly sunken from her loss of appetite. She looked pretty bad. And her hair being held in a ponytail exaggerated these features. She viciously tugged the elastic out of her hair, letting it messily fall over her shoulders. She placed her hands on her face, running them through her hair, getting them caught on all the little snarls that her hair had formed. She closed her eyes, taking a deep breath.

Hermione was at a huge loss of what to do, how to react to Ron. She also didn't quite know how she should talk to Draco. She appreciated him being there so much. She felt as though they shared something deeper than any acquaintance or friendship, as if they had known each other longer than they had been living. She greatly enjoyed their talking, but she still hadn't managed to get advice out of him. Now she was left to face Ron completely unarmed.

Giving the best smile she could manage, she headed out of her room a little bit unsteadily, off to face the day and whatever it held.

'o'

Any passerby might believe that the red head craning low over the Gryffindor table might be sleeping, or maybe cramming last minute for an exam. What no one would have guessed is that this person was agonizing greatly over what he should do in the coming moments as students began to file into the Great Hall for breakfast.

Ron had hardly slept last night, the truth and reality of all he had done finally settling in. He had heard people say that you never remembered what you did because you were too drunk. Unfortunately for him, this was definitely not true.

Sure, you forget for about a day, but when you are least expecting it, powerful memories hit you head-on. And it hurts. Ron supposed though, that he deserved this pain, in addition to the pain from the massive headache and all around nauseated feeling he had gotten the morning after. He had never meant to hurt Hermione, but, of course, he was the stupid one who had gone and gotten himself drunk.

He wasn't an alcoholic or anything, though he supposed that's what everyone would be gossiping about. He had drunk champagne at New Year's since he was thirteen and had sipped at a bottle of Fire Whiskey secretly with Fred and George on his last birthday, but only enough to make him feel flushed. The truth was that this time he had some of the bitterly alcoholic drink left over from his last birthday stashed away in the bottom of his trunk. He had only taken it out once before, when Harry had made a great Quidditch win, but none of them had had enough to get completely smashed. All normal teenage male behavior.

But when he had seen them kiss, it had been the last straw. He couldn't take it anymore. He had gotten so upset. He had run up to the common room, intent on staying locked up there alone to wallow in his misery. He had reached into his trunk, looking for the picture that he so cherished of the two of them. Hermione was squeezing Ron tightly in the picture and both had big smiles on their faces, undeniably content. Ron couldn't even count the times he had wished that this had been real life.

All he had meant to do was stare for hours at this picture, thinking of Hermione. That was when his hand brushed against the cool glass of the bottle. Slowly, he fingered the bottle, contemplating whether he dared to take it out. Without realizing it, he suddenly held the bottle in his hands, staring at the way the light made the Fire Whiskey glimmer. He uncorked the bottle, letting the amber liquid flow quickly over his tounge, and he swallowed it quickly, painfully remembering how much it burns all the way down.

It was painful even for Ron to remember. He remembered, wincing, how he had even dared to lay a hand on Hermione. If he truly loved her, well, he sure as hell wouldn't have done that to her. He was one of her best friends; he needed to be there for her and realize that it would be better to have her happy than to selfishly fulfill his own dreams. Plus, he'd rather stay friends with her than bitterly end the years they had spent as friend. He sighed deeply, looking up to find Harry sitting across the table from him.

"Hey, mate. You look beat," Harry commented as he reached for some pumpkin juice.

"I haven't been able to sleep." Ooh, bad move, Ron. Now's definitely not the time to tell Harry. Ron hadn't wanted to talk about it to anyone, much less admit his crimes to Harry. To actually put it into words would be final, a sure thing. And he couldn't bring himself to do it.

"What do you mean?" Harry asked, shaking his head to get his bangs out of his eyes and at the same time giving Ron an inquisitive look.

"Ah…nothing. Nevermind." He hoped Harry wouldn't push it.

He didn't. "If you say so." Harry just figured he'd find out sooner or later, from Ginny if he had to. Anyways, Harry was happy to talk about his own problems. "But, er, I was wondering if I could get some advice from you."

"About what? Girls?" Ron snorted about the irony in that statement.

"Well, kind of. Things kind of, well, haven't been working out with Cho…"

"Let me guess. You're not feeling the same way as you used to about her, and think it would be better if you guys were friends."

"…Wow. Yeah. But the thing is, I don't want to…"

"…break up with her, I know. It's okay, though. She's got her sights set somewhere else. Or rather, on someone else. Macmillian. Can you believe it? Well, anyways, it's okay, because we all know you like Ginny." Ron paused, nervously shoving a hunk of bread into his mouth while Harry stared back at him, completely speechless. "And don't worry. She's always liked you back, how ever hard-to-get she may play."

After about three minutes, all Harry was able to say was "Damn…" He was, to sum it up, amazed.

'o'

Hermione took her time walking down the stairs, through the halls, down the Great Staircase, taking the longest route possible to the Great Hall. She knew, however much she dreaded it, that she must go, and at one point or another she would have to face Ron. There was just no getting around it. Cursing under her breath, she put one foot in front of the other, just enough to move ahead.

Far too soon for her own preference, she approached the Entrance Hall. As she turned the corner into the Hall, she took a deep breath, leaning against the stone wall for support. How could he do this? I'm just so… She didn't even know how to finish that thought, she slid down the wall into a sitting position, legs straight out in front of her. She felt so drained, completely not up to having what she feared would be a heated argument with Ron.

Drowned in her thoughts, she was oblivious to the world, almost forgetting where she was supposed to be. That is, until a very familiar someone tripped on her outstretched legs and went flying head first towards the ground. Just at the last minute, thankfully, he was able to recompose himself and keep himself from complete humiliation. Hermione almost laughed, but didn't dare face the consequences. Instead she asked, "Draco, are you okay?"

He brushed off his pants and arms, saying in an offhand way as he could manage, "Oh, fine. You should watch where you're putting those feet." He gave her a small smile to show he was kidding.

As if she had just stepped through a waterfall, her troubles seemed to dissolve for the moment all around her. She got to her feet as she found herself thinking, How weird is it that the guy I counted on for snide remarks is now someone who I can count on to cheer me up? You've got to wonder if the world's coming to an end or something…

Draco snapped her back to reality. "But I've got to wonder what exactly you were doing sitting right outside the Great Hall…"

"To tell you the truth," she admitted, "I'm actually contemplating whether or not to go in. You know, he could be in there." Her expression slowly became somber again. "I just really don't think I can't face him."

"Chicken," Draco teased.

She punched him in the arm, saying, "You wish. I just need more time, you know?"

"Well," Draco said, sticking his head into the Great Hall and then coming back to face Hermione, "I can tell you that Dead Man Walking is most definitely there. It's just a little hard to miss that hair, if you get what I'm saying."

She couldn't help but smile, however small it was. Soon, though, it faded from her face, as she came closer to the reality of facing Ron.

Draco ran his fingers through his hair, trying to think of a way to save her. Something in is mind must have clicked, because his face light up slightly as he blurted out, "Hey, I have an idea. Why don't you come sit at the Slytherin table?"

"Oh, Draco, I don't know…"

"C'mon! What have you got to lose?" He looked into her eyes, hoping to see some spark of desire to join him. "Plus," he added quickly, "you're the one who's always promoting inter-house unity or whatever… Just come."

With only a bit of feigned reluctance, she held out her hand, saying, "Lead the way."

He grabbed her outstretched hand, slithering through the tables all the way over to the right where the green-and-silver decked table stood. They sat near the end of the table, Hermione grateful to have her back to Ron and food in front of her face. Only upon seeing the vast amounts of food on the table did she painfully remember how famished she was.

Draco watched her dig into the plate she had heaped with almost every kind of food on the table, happy to see that she was for once not completely worried about something or other. Unlike Hermione, he had a clear view of the Gryffindor table, and caught a glimpse of Ron, turned in his chair looking longingly at Hermione and spitefully at Draco. He watched Harry and Ron bend their heads low in conversation, thinking of how much he would have liked to go over there and pound their heads together.

'o'

When it seemed as thought there was nothing left at the table for Hermione to eat, Draco ventured, "You look just about full."

She laughed, a little embarrassed as she realized how much she had just eaten. "I haven't had much of an appetite lately. I guess I was hungrier than I thought."

"You wanna head back to the common room?" Draco asked, sensing that Hermione didn't want to be near people, but probably didn't want to be alone either. She nodded quickly and they both got up from the table, ignoring the glares from the other Slytherins who had removed themselves as far as possible away from the pair.

With each step closer to the door, Hermione thanked the gods that she wouldn't have to confront Ron today, or at least until she got hungry. But she thanked too soon.

Ron stood in the doorway to the Great Hall, looking as remorseful as Hermione had ever seen him. "Hermione-" he began, only to be cut off.

"Look, Ron," she said, trying to maintain her cool, "I am sure-or at least I hope-that you are sorry, but I'm not going to be able to forgive you right now or even talk about it."

"Well, when, then?" he asked, almost impatiently.

"When, she's ready," Draco butted in, angry enough to punch Ron's face in.

"Who asked you, Blondie?" Ron retorted, just as indignant.

Hermione placed a hand on Draco's chest, saying, "Not this. Not now. Don't you guys dare fight over me. I'm not going to have this be more complicated than it already is." She turned to Ron, saying as warmly as she could manage, "I'll let you know when I'm ready to talk to you." With that, she strode out of the hall in the direction of her dormitories.

Draco hurried off to follow her, but not without Ron's commentary. "So, you're her bitch now, too?" Draco almost walked away, as Hermione had asked them not to fight. Almost. He stopped dead in his tracks, and then whirled around to sock Ron one big, fat punch, right in the nose.

As Ron cowered in pain and agony on the floor, Draco replied, "Oh, I wouldn't say 'bitch'. More like friend, since you seemed to have abandoned the position." With his trademark smirk, he strode after Hermione, only half aware that he had just admitted to about a quarter of the students and staff that he was, in fact, friends with Hermione Granger. Or even, he silently hoped, more than that…

Thanks to: slytherin-kittycat, SonChristine, SlytherinPixie, fouthiv, ellen2321, bonessasan, Autum Wind, and shanmo. You guys rock! :D

I know! I'm sorry! Don't kill me! I don't know how I let myself go this long without updating. And even at that, this chapter is still on the short side…Thanks to all who stay tuned despite my laziness/writer's blocks/loss of sense of time. :D

And, no, I haven't forgotten about Costas. ;)

Until next time,

Charlotte ;)