Confessions

Ronald Weasley walked uneasily amongst the shadows of the abandoned park, searching for his business partner. Out of the gloomy darkness, illuminated only by a distant, dim streetlight, green eyes peered out from under a dark cloak.

"You ended it?" the shadow asked. Ron knew that they were talking about his marriage to Hermione. He nodded solemnly.

"About time!" the shadow snapped. Ron couldn't help but agree.
"Did you tell her about the transactions?" the faceless voice inquired.

"No… it wasn't the right time. She's going through a lot at the moment," he gushed in a hurry. Though he no longer felt any love for Hermione, he still knew that what he had been doing for the past two years was wrong. The cloaked figure frowned and went into deep thought.

"Fine, but you will, soon," the shadow stated, leaving no room for argument. With a sharp nod, Ron turned to leave but the shadow grabbed his arm and pulled him closer. Ron turned and faced them with a look of confusion. Standing on tiptoe the green-eyed woman kissed him lightly on the lips.

"Soon," she whispered, "soon."


Long after Hermione finished her uncontrollable bout of sobbing did the warming effects of the alcohol begin to wear off and the coldness that winter brought with it, settle in. Harry noticed Hermione shivering straight away and dragged her inside.

"Are you okay?" he asked out of habit.

"What do you think!" she spat acidly.

"Well at least tell me what the hell is going on Hermione!" he spat back at her, fighting the urge to yell.

"Oh, you expect me to tell YOU what the hell is going on!" Hermione screeched. Harry couldn't help but stare blankly at her.

"Pardon?" he murmured. Hermione narrowed her eyes, seething. No longer standing still, she began to pace, circling him slowly, all the while never taking her eyes of him. Harry wondered if it was wise for him to be cowering or to be grabbing Hermione's shoulders and shaking the living daylights out of her.

"You mean to say that you expect me to spill my heart to you when I no longer trust you?" she asked in a strangely calm voice.

"Why don't you trust me Hermione? We've known each other since we were eleven!"

"Why! Why? He asks!" she muttered in disbelief to nobody in particular. "Harry, you stopped talking to me six years ago! You completely forgot about me!" Harry couldn't help but feel a little bit guilty.

"I'm…I'm sorry." he managed to say quietly. Hermione stopped wearing a circle in the carpet and turned to face him, pointing a finger angrily at him.

"You're sorry?" she shrieked, losing her composure.

"Do you possibly know what it's been like? Do you? Do you know what it's been like to need a close friend to confide in but find that they don't want to know you?"

"Hermione…"

"No. You don't. You have no idea what it's like to be standing here, so close to you, and to be so close to tears because the person that you used to know is only almost here!" Hermione sunk onto the sofa behind her and watched him, silent tears falling down her cheeks. "The last two years have been a living hell for me Harry and I've almost run out of people I can trust. When…" she let out a muffled sob. "When I've needed you, you've turned your back on me and let me fall," she finished quietly, pulling her gaze away from his and even more quietly she whispered, "You're no friend of mine." Harry felt his heart fill with utter despair. Never before had he felt so detached and lonely.

"Hermione," but she didn't look at him. Harry knelt down in front of her tried desperately to catch his friend's eye. He failed terribly. "Hermione look at me!" he yelled, losing control of his anger. With satisfaction, Harry watched her face him and saw that there was no fear in her saddened brown eyes.

"What?"

"Hermione, I am so sorry. Obviously you've been through a lot and I've been a huge jerk." Hermione let out a snort of disgust and looked away. Harry reached out and grabbed her chin, turning her head so that she was looking at him. He felt electricity spark through his fingers, bringing with it awareness. For a split second he felt like a teenager again.

"Are you going to finish what you were saying or are you going to continue staring at me?" Hermione interrupted his thoughts. Harry mentally shook himself and forced himself not to lean forward and kiss her.

"Look, Hermione, I should've never blocked you out. I'm not going to make excuses why I did it, but please don't hate me. I still want to be part of your life. I am really, really sorry," he stated in barely a whisper. He was so close to her face now that he could see each and every eyelash clearly. Close enough to kiss her. Close enough to see a tear form and fall softly down her cheek and know that now was not the time.

"I want answers Harry," Hermione stated, obviously not affected by his closeness.

"I can't give them to you right now Herms. Now isn't the right time," he replied. Hermione's eyebrow's furrowed together in anger and she jumped up from her seat and stormed to her room. There was a loud slamming noise and Harry realized that she had slammed the door shut.


In her room, Hermione let out a shaky sigh and flopped onto the bed. Even though she was mad at Harry, she couldn't help but feel the tension in the air when he had been so close to her. Every bone in her body had willed him to kiss her. She had wanted it so desperately that she now felt disappointed. What was she thinking? Did she want Harry to kiss her? She thought that she had gotten over the stupid crush she had on him when she was seventeen. But then again, when she was seventeen she thought that she was in love with the man. Did she still feel that way for him? Hadn't she been in love with Ron? But when her thoughts drifted to Ron her anger rose again and a melancholy feeling settled in. It seemed as if her whole world had been turned upside down. For a while she lay staring blankly at the white ceiling above her until the sensation of utter boredom took over. With a soft huff, Hermione sat up, smoothed down the beige quilt-cover where she had been lying for the last hour and went to the door. Her hand hesitated at the doorknob. She could sense him near the door. She didn't know how but she could feel him standing a meter away, watching over her. Quietly and slowly, she opened the door and peered out to see Harry watching her. There was a determined look in his green eyes; so strong, Hermione felt a shiver go down her spine. No one spoke until finally Hermione stepped back from the door and allowed him in. Turning her back to him, she walked to her rosewood dresser, sat down and began brushing her hair. Harry closed the door behind him and sat at the edge of her bed, silently watching her as she continued to brush her hair.

"It started about two years ago…" she began in a bare whisper.

Hermione sat in her office finishing the last details on whatever it was she was writing. It was one of those days when there was loads of paper work to do. Her secretary, Bonnie, who had just started working for Hermione, was tackling as much paper work as the small blonde-haired woman could.

"Excuse me, Ms. Granger," Hermione's head shot up, relieved to be interrupted…

"Hang-on," Harry interrupted, "Why did they call you Ms Granger when you were married to Ron?" Hermione resisted rolling her eyes and instead got up and sat on the bed not far from Harry.

"Because the two years before I married Ron, I had earnt quite a reputation at the Ministry as Ms. Hermione Granger. Why, would I want to change it?" she answered with finality. She went back to telling her story.

…"Yes, Draco?"

"We need to talk," he gushed in obvious haste. "There has been an incident at a Quidditch match concerning a stray Muggle," Hermione raised her eyebrows. Usually this wasn't her department. Her job was to keep the Ministry together, sign important paper work, see important people and make public appearances.

"Oh, but what does that have to do with me? Is it too big a job for the Department of Muggle Affairs?" she questioned, her voice unsympathetic. She still had a mountain of paperwork to do. Draco Malfoy stared at her with intense gray eyes. It was like he was conveying a message to her with his eyes. Reluctantly, Hermione gave in.

"What do you advise I do?" she asked hesitantly, seeing the victorious look in Draco's eyes…

"And that, was the beginning of the end," Hermione finished. She didn't look up, for she found that pretending that there was something interesting on the floor, was better than having to look Harry in the eye. After moments passed, Harry spoke.

"How could that have destroyed you?" Hermione didn't look up, didn't want Harry to see that her cheeks were burning with humiliation.

"Because, somehow, someone found out about my hesitancy to take action and reported it to the Daily Prophet. It was in the headlines for about a week or more," she muttered in a voice that did not disguise the bitterness. "But what's more, they also found out that I didn't want to become involved in the Goblin Civil War and reported that too."

"I'm confused," Harry stated, "How could that be bad? I mean, I never heard of any of this."

"Harry, it's simple. I'm becoming a bad image for the Ministry. It doesn't matter if these allegations are true or not, it's the fact that I am making a bad image of myself. I didn't want to become involved in that stupid war last year, but many powerful witches and wizards did. Because of my 'error' or 'bad choice' I am losing control of my government as well as my supporters. Haven't you read the Daily Prophet in the last two years?" Hermione exclaimed, leaping to her feet. She stared at Harry, glaring angrily at him. It was only then that she realized that she felt better for having that off her chest. Finally, the emotions that had been bottled up had been released and were able to be expressed. She let out a heavy sigh and sunk tiredly to her knees.

"I lost all connection with the magical world a long time ago, Hermione. If I had known, I would not have left you to go through all that by yourself," Harry mumbled, picking up Hermione's crumpled form and holding her close to him. The last thing she remembered as she fell asleep was the subtle smell of Harry's cologne.