Disclaimer: I don't own HP or any of these characters. That belongs to JKR, Scholastic Books, Warner Brothers, etc.
Chapter Nine : Surreal
It was absolutely amazing. She had no idea how Malfoy did it, but she could appreciate the result. The bastard had managed to secure her a two-bedroom flat that would only require the slightest amount of penny-pinching. It had taken the better part of three days – or rather nights – but it had been worth it. Even though she had had to spend all that extra time being civil to Malfoy. It hadn't actually been all that bad. Indeed, one of the fringe benefits was that she didn't have to deal with Harry during that time.
Hermione still didn't know what to do about that. If she were to be completely truthful, she didn't even know how she felt about that. A good part of her felt sad and desperately lonely. It was disheartening, to say the least, for the man you love to ignore you in favor of a witch he had just met.
But there was another part of her that was angry, and it seemed to grow day by day. Harry never noticed her, despite how long they had known each other and everything they had been through. He had never shown the slightest bit of interest in her. She was simply the witch that was always by his side but never with him – as if she weren't good enough for him. And if that weren't bad enough, he just had to go and rub that in her face, as if taunting her, as if shouting to the world that he'd never fancy Hermione Granger. The calmer, more rational part of her reflected that she had never made her interest clear and that she had no claim on her best friend – but at times, Hermione didn't really want to be calm and rational. No she supposed she had no claim on him, but he damn well could have appeared to have noticed her for once. The best she ever got out of him was an admission that she wasn't ugly.
And even that calm, rational side of her had to admit that being angry was good. It was better to be angry than to spend endless nights crying herself to sleep. Being angry allowed her to read those letters that he sent her and scoff over them, rather than feeling her heart break all over again. Being angry almost made her feel ready to deal with him.
Unfortunately for him, she only felt almost ready to deal with seeing him again. Hermione had tried to work her way around it, but in the end, she hadn't been able to refuse his offer to help her move. She had initially planned to write back that she appreciated the offer but now wasn't a good time for either Harry or Ron to be around her dad. Then, her brilliant mother had scheduled a Saturday full of appointments for her father, leaving her with no choice but to accept their offer of help. Hermione had already written back to him to let him know that she could use his help tomorrow. She had apologized in her note for taking so long to reply, saying that she had been busy looking for a new place since then. He would probably understand but she didn't care if he didn't. After all, it would be easier to deal an angry Harry with than a sad Harry looking at her contritely. Yet, as she tossed and turned, trying to get to some rest before she had to get up, she wondered if things would go as easily as she hoped.
~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~
Harry had never felt so alone in his life.
It was incredible – it was simply astounding how empty his flat felt now that Hermione was gone. He had never thought of his flat as being especially grand and spacious. There was more than enough room for bachelor, especially one who had spent most of his formative years confined to a cupboard under the stairs. Once Hermione had moved in, he had begun to think of it as cramped. Comfortable, yes, as it was comfortable to have Hermione around, but definitely cramped. His flat had not been meant for two people . . . or to be more precise, not meant for two people who weren't at least sleeping together.
Yet now that she was gone . . . his place seemed far too empty and hollow. It was almost too quiet for him to bear, though he knew that Hermione never made that much noise. Those three days that he spent without her were some of the loneliest days of his life . . . made lonelier still by him not knowing when he'd next see her.
He had almost come to regret sleeping with that witch.
In one way, he did wish he could take it back. He had never meant for Hermione to feel unwelcome – that couldn't be farther from the truth – or for her to get the impression that he wanted her to move out. At the time, he had thought things were fine. It wasn't as if he and Serena had shagged on the couch where Hermione slept after all. He had made sure they had been in his room, despite the fact that he practically had to drag the witch away from exploring the place. He didn't think she would take it badly, for she had always been an eminently sensible witch, who ought to know that sometimes wizards got certain urges. Yet perhaps he was wrong, given her reaction and Ron's.
Harry shook his head at the thought of Ron. He would have never imagined that Ron would get so upset with him simply for having another witch over. It didn't make too much sense, now that he thought about it, if Ron fancied Hermione. Shouldn't Ron have been happy to see that Harry was interested in someone else? Shouldn't have Ron have leapt at the chance to comfort Hermione and help her find a new place to live? Harry would have thought that Ron might suggest to Hermione that they move in together and leave Harry all alone. But that didn't happen. Instead, Ron had seemed about ready to kill him, if Harry had accurately read him that evening. He had quickly – for a Weasley – recovered from his rage, which had seemed brotherly in nature, now that Harry thought about it.
It made absolutely no sense. If that was true, then Ron wouldn't have been any obstacle to him maybe asking Hermione for a date . . . but Hermione would have been. Harry knew she didn't think of him as anything more than a friend . . . but if it came to losing Hermione by making her feel as if she weren't welcome as opposed to driving her away by confessing his feelings . . .
Harry didn't know which option he would have chosen if that were the case. But that wasn't the hand he had been dealt. She wasn't interested, she felt like he wanted her out, and now she had her own flat to go home to, instead of theirs. He had secretly hoped that she wouldn't be able to find any decent place, giving him a chance to convince her to come back. Yet, once again, things didn't go his way, and he was left with helping her to move farther away from him.
From fantastic to frustrating¸ he thought to himself. If I keep having too many more weeks like this, I'll have a mop of white hair before I'm thirty. Sighing, he headed off to bed. He needed his rest tomorrow if he wanted to be of any use to the witch he suspected he was falling in love with.
~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~
Hermione awoke to the smell of bacon, eggs, and . . . she sniffed the air experimentally once more, confirming that she had smelled pancakes as well. She smiled. Pancakes had always been a favorite treat of hers as a child, as her parents didn't allow her to eat them too often, seeing as they were dentists. Yawning, she rose from her bed and headed towards the bathroom, where she thoroughly brushed her teeth and tied back her hair. Going back to her bedroom to change, she pulled on a pair of well-worn jeans along with a violet jumper. Only then did she give into her inner child and bounce gleefully down the stairs where breakfast awaited her.
"Good morning, Mum! Good morning, Dad!" she cheerfully called out to her parents, who had finished their breakfast and were headed out the door.
"Good morning, Hermione," her mum replied. "Your dad made a treat for you for breakfast today, so you can keep up your energy."
"I know," she said with a big grin on her face. "I could smell them upstairs."
"Somehow I'm not surprised." Hermione's mother smiled at her only daughter. "I've made enough for your friends as well, since they're coming here to help you later."
"I'd have been willing to help too," her dad put in. "But somehow my schedule for today happened to be full. What an incredible coincidence."
"I know, dear." Her mum lightly kissed her dad on his cheek. "How unfortunate."
"Breakfast is more than enough help, Dad. Thanks!" Hermione said.
The doorbell rang from behind them. "I'll get it," her dad said with an evil smirk on his face. Before Hermione could protest, he was opening the door and preparing to greet his victim.
"Hello . . ." Robert Granger blinked at the young man before him. "I don't believe I've met you before. Are you lost, young man?"
Hermione peered around her father to see Malfoy, all decked out in black and looking surprisingly good. "He's not lost, Dad. He's a co-worker of mine," Hermione said by way of introduction.
"Is that so?" Mr. Granger said slowly. "It's nice to meet you, Mr . . ."
"Malfoy. Draco Malfoy," Malfoy said with a perfectly straight face.
Hermione's mum giggled. "Watch a tad too many James Bond movies when you were younger?" she asked. Malfoy simply looked at her blankly.
"He's not Muggle-born, Mum, so he wouldn't know what you're talking about." Hermione said quickly. "But he really knows the Wizarding World, and he's been very helpful these last few nights with me looking for a—"
"Last few nights?" Mr. Granger's eyebrows shot up. "You've been spending the last few nights with my daughter?"
Malfoy shrugged. "A bit more than the last few considering that we've had to work late recently."
"And I'm sure all you two did was work," Mr. Granger noted sarcastically.
"Of course," Malfoy responded frivolously. "Being involved with someone you work with isn't a good idea."
Malfoy realized he had committed a faux pas of some sort by the silence emanating from all three Grangers. Under her breath, Hermione whispered to him, "My parents work in the same dental office."
"Though some couples, such as yourselves, are remarkably able to pull that off," he drawled as if he had known of that fact before he had started to speak.
Hermione didn't need to look at her dad to know that he was getting ready to explode, and she didn't want to think what the outcome would be from a contest of wills between him and Malfoy. She shot a quick, pleading look at her mum, who thankfully got the hint.
"Robert, love, it's time to go," her mum said, pulling her dad away from the door. "Otherwise, we'll be late for the first couple of appointments."
"Bye Mum! Bye Dad! Have a nice day!" Hermione said, before quickly closing the door before her dad could escape from her mother's clutches. With her parents out of the way, she turned towards her unexpected visitor. "What are you doing here anyway, Malfoy?" she asked bluntly.
"Don't tell me you plan on moving yourself, Granger," he replied smoothly.
"No . . . but . . ."
"I thought so. That's why I'm here. To help," he finished.
"It's not that I don't appreciate the offer, Malfoy, but do you think you could leave?" Hermione asked.
Malfoy looked down his nose at her. Damn him for being tall enough to be able to do that, she cursed silently. Or rather damn my lack of height as virtually everyone I know can do that to me!
"I thought we had agreed to try and be civil to one another," he reminded her.
"We did," she agreed.
"And your idea of civil is to not greet me, to not properly introduce me to your parents, and to not invite me in but instead do your best to get rid of me?" He gazed disapprovingly at her. "I despair at the manners that you were taught."
She flushed. "I'm not trying to be rude," she began.
"I'd hate to see you try then," he interrupted.
Hermione ignored that comment. "But Harry and Ron are going to both be here, and you had never got along with them."
"I'd put it the other way around."
"Does it matter?" she asked.
"Of course," he answered.
She sighed. First her dad and now Malfoy. It was going to be one of those days, where every single male she had to deal with was difficult. Maybe I should just get rid of them all and move by myself? she wondered. No . . . it's too late. I already told them I'd like their help. If I suddenly changed my mind, they'd want to know why, and I'd get a headache that way.
"Putting that aside for right now, you three don't make pleasant company when you're all together. It doesn't matter to me who starts what . . . and I think it's rather childish to argue who does start it. In any case, I apologize for any . . . incivility on my part. I don't mean to be rude, really I don't, not when you helped me find this flat . . . but . . ." Hermione paused, trying to think of how best to phrase the next thing she was going to say. "But . . . unless you want me to come in on Monday with the mother of all headaches and as grumpy as hell . .. please leave."
"Fine then," he agreed. "But only because you're a complete shrew when you've a migraine."
"Thank you," she said dryly.
"You're welcome," he replied. "Just remember, you owe me one."
"I know, I know, I owed you anyway for all your help." She looked down at her feet, suddenly shy. "Truth be told, I didn't think our agreement would last this long. I thought for sure you'd say something rude before now."
"Thank you for that vote of confidence, Granger," Malfoy said wryly. "Consider my previous good behavior as proof of intentions to hold up that bargain. You play nice with me, and I'll return the favor."
"I will, I will," Hermione promised. "It's only this once and only because of—"
"I know," Malfoy said with an unexpected grimace. "And now, if you'll excuse me, I'll be leaving so I can return to my beauty sleep." With those words, he disappeared, having apparently Apparated away.
"Someone sure knows how to make an exit," Hermione mumbled to herself as she headed back down the hallway. "Though he should know better than to Apparate in a Muggle household . . . but I suppose Malfoys aren't used to being held to the letter of the law." She made her way to the kitchen, where she poured herself a tall glass of milk before digging into the breakfast her mum had made. When she was about a quarter of the way through her plate, the doorbell rang once again.
"One second!" she called out as she leapt up and jogged towards the front door. Opening it, she saw Ron and Harry standing outside. "Good morning, you two," she greeted them cheerfully, determined not to break into tears at the sight of Harry. "Would you like some—"
"Breakfast!" Ron exclaimed as he caught whiff of the food. "Thanks for asking, I'd be glad to have some." Following his nose, he made a beeline towards the kitchen.
"Typical Ron," Hermione said as he made his way past her.
"Yeah," Harry agreed softly. He paused, as if choosing his words wisely. Hermione had no wish to hear what she thought he was going to say, so she quickly hurried him indoors, hoping to interrupt his train of thought.
"Would you like some breakfast, too?" she asked amiably. "I don't know about you, but I'm starving. I'd like to get something before the bottomless pit that is our friend consumes it all."
"Me too," said Harry. "You know, Hermione, I didn't mean to make you feel unwelcome or that I wanted you to move out or that you were a bother," he blurted out.
I really do not want to discuss this right now, Hermione thought. That was the worst day . . . no, night of my life, and he has to bring it up. She repressed a grimace. Given what he had been doing, or rather whom, I'd not be surprised if it was one of his happiest days. I'd wonder if that'd be the source of his next Patronus?
"Put your mind at rest, Harry," she told him. "I know perfectly well that you don't hate me and—"
"Hate you? I couldn't imagine hating you!" he interjected.
"You came pretty close in first year, if I remember correctly," she corrected him with a fake smile. "But I was going to say that I was considering moving out before then . . . my plans were just cemented when I realized how much of a dent in your . . . social life I must have been making."
"You weren't doing anything of the sort, Hermione," Harry said. "I'm sorry, it was horribly rude of me, but I had—"
"You don't need to explain yourself to me," she said. And I really don't want to hear how she was so beautiful that you couldn't resist temptation, or worse, how it was love at first sight and that you can't wait to introduce us formally. She shuddered. "Now let's get to the kitchen before we wind up having to go out for breakfast." Whirling around, she strode towards the kitchen, not stopping to see whether Harry was following her. She didn't care either way so long as that she put an end to that painful conversation.
Upon reaching the kitchen, she saw Ron sitting at the dining table, tucking into a very generous serving of bacon, eggs, and pancakes. He waved at them with one hand, using the other hand to continue shoveling food into his mouth.
"Your table manners are atrocious," Hermione scolded. "You could have at least waited for us to get here before eating everything in sight."
"You didn't," Ron retorted, pointing at Hermione's plate.
"I only began to eat before you arrived because you never did tell me when you planned to come," Hermione said, her chin set stubbornly. "Knowing your penchant for sleeping in, that may have very well been sometime this afternoon."
"If you life, I can leave after breakfast and come back. Though that depends on what you're cooking for lunch," Ron replied.
"You are incorrigible," she told him fondly.
"That sounds like I have some sort of contagious disease," Ron noted.
"I certainly hope not," Hermione said. She could feel Harry's eyes locked on to her back. If I keep ignoring him, he'll know something is wrong, she thought. Oh well. I ought to offer him something to eat in any case. "Help yourself, Harry," she said, turning to smile at him. "You must be starving."
"Thanks," he said as he sat down. Hermione handed him a plate, which he promptly took and began filling up.
"So what do we have to move?" Ron asked.
"Well, my bed and my clothing for starters," she replied. "Afterwards, I'd like to go up into the attic and retrieve some old furniture from there. Mum and Dad said it was fine for me to take it all if I wanted to, as that was the reason they had saved it anyway."
"That's great!" Ron exclaimed. "That makes it easier for you, doesn't it?"
"It certainly does," Hermione concurred. "Especially as I'll need a lot of furniture or else it'll seem very empty."
"How big is your new flat?" Ron asked.
"It has two bedrooms," she told them. "I know, it's a larger flat than I need, but as Malfoy got a great price on it—" Hermione clasped her hands to her mouth. She had done it now. There was no way Ron would let that statement pass without comment.
"Malfoy!" Ron put down his fork and stared at Hermione. "You've been associating with Malfoy?"
"You knew that, Ron," Hermione said, rolling her eyes. "He was hired on around the same time as I."
"I know! And you do remember me telling you that I'd hex him if he tried anything funny, right?" Ron said a bit too eagerly. "So if you need to take me up on that offer . . . "
"That's very sweet of you, Ron, but given the disparity between your grades and his, it'd probably be better if I handle his obnoxiousness by myself," she said.
"Hermione! How could you say that?"
"Because it's true," she replied calmly. "And he has been behaving himself, anyway, as the Powers That Be at our department want us to get along . . . or else."
"Erm . . . a two-bedroom flat, Hermione?" Harry said, interrupting their argument. "I'd imagine that would be expensive . . ."
"Oh, I won't be able to go out drinking every night with you two, but I'll manage," she reassured him.
"I was going to say . . . if you really want to leave your parents' house, you're welcome at my place. You don't have to go through all this trouble," he offered hastily.
"Thanks, Harry, but it's a moot point. I've already signed the lease," she said. And thank goodness. I might have been tempted otherwise . . . but no. It hurts enough knowing that he's with someone else. It'd hurt so much more having to watch that, day in and day out. "When you two are finished, shall I show my new flat to you? So you can inspect it and help me figure out what furniture to take later?" she asked, hoping that would change the subject.
"Sounds good to me," Ron said. "Better for us to stretch our legs a bit after breakfast, rather than start slugging around spells right away."
Harry nodded slowly, almost sadly to Hermione's eye. Briefly,
she wondered if he missed her. It doesn't matter, she told
herself. Once it might have given me hope, but it's high time
that I move on with my life.
Author's note: Thanks to everyone who reviewed the last chapter. ^_^ I really do appreciate it. The next chapter should be ready by Friday. Once again, the first draft is done but it's twice as long so hopefully I can edit faster.