Hermione let out a breath of relief as she flooed into her parlor, intent on taking a decadent bath and drinking the entire bottle of Domaine Leflaive Montrachet Grand Cru that she had absconded with when she fled from those evil bidies planning her wedding. Gah! Wedding. The thought alone caused a violent shudder to vibrate her delicate frame. Taking off her outer robes she peeled her heels off forcefully. Heading into the kitchen she made a small detour on her way to her fridge to grab a wine opener. She took out the white chocolate raspberry crème brulee that she had purchased from a local market.
She was so focused on taking a relaxing hot bath (that she so desperately needed and deserved, having to deal with those harpies) that she did not hear the chime from the floo. Ginny had stepped through steadfast, prepared for any fight she was going to get from Hermione. She needed to apologize. She and the boys had been avoiding confrontation because they didn't want to be on the wrong end of Mrs. Weasleys wand. It was wrong and cowardly and all three of them knew it.
"Hermione," her voice rang out into the seemingly empty flat. "Hermione, are you home?" Ginny squared her shoulders and started to make her way through the space room by room, searching for that wonderful, and sometimes baleful, witch.
Hermione whirled around startled. Her face instantly fell into a look of contempt once she laid eyes on Ginny. A single eyebrow arched in question.
"I…" a look of shame crossed her face. "I'm sorry Mione."
The eyebrow arched ever higher on Hermione's forehead. Her face set in a mask as if made of stone.
"I fucked up. I know that. I don't have a very good explanation for it either." Ginny took a deep breath, "I should have stood up for you. You needed an ally, and I wasn't there. I just don't want to mess anything up between Harry and I. We're trying to get my mum's blessing for our own marriage. She thinks I'm too young."
Hermione looked on at the red head appraisingly. She seemed to be genuine. Knowing Ginny and her infamous temper Hermione had been shocked when the witch didn't step in to help her.
"Seems like a very Slytherin motive if you ask me. Not very brave of you, was it?" Her voice was cold. She was still upset about the slap and nasty insinuations. "The fact of the matter is, Gin, that your mother hasn't truly liked me since day one."
"You know that isn't true, Mione." Hermione let out a snort at the placating tone.
"It is too, and you know it. She always believed that rag of a paper over me. Not ever asking before assuming and getting too caught up in the lies to form an opinion of my character from my own personality." Ginny's head nodded minutely. She didn't have a rebuttal for that. She knew her mum was a little drama obsessed.
"That's true. I can't deny her actions, all I can do is apologize for my own. And those of the boys." A look of disbelief crossed Hermione's face.
"I can accept your apology as long as you understand that I won't stand for being treated that way. It was unacceptable, on both sides." She nodded her head, chewing on her lower lip in thought. "If the boys really think that they can have you apologize for them then they have another thing coming."
Ginny let out a roar of laughter. A look of relief and happiness crossed her face.
"I might be dating one of them and the sister of the other, but they are grown men and can do their own apologizing. I look forward to seeing them grovel their way through a painfully awkward apology." An evil smirk appeared at the mere thought.
Hermione chuckled quietly, still a little upset over the whole ordeal but choosing to put it behind her. She had been very lonely recently, having missed her best friend.
"What about a glass of wine and some take out?" Ginny nodded enthusiastically.
"I'm starving, what do you have in mind?"
"Pizza?"
"That's perfect, can we watch that tele-thingy?" Ginny grinned widely when Hermione winced at the terminology.
"Yes, we can watch the telly. You know how to operate it go ahead and pick something. I will ring the pizza place to get our food ordered." Hermione threw out over her shoulder as she walked into the kitchen to get the phone.
Once the pizza had been ordered she grabbed the bottle of wine she had set down, an extra glass, and two spoons and made her way back into the living room, intent on still enjoying her decadent food. It was a guilty pleasure of hers.
Ginny had turned on a random rom-com. Wordlessly she set the spoons down on the coffee table next to the crème brulé, and poured out two glasses of wine, handing one to the fiery red-head and the other for herself. She also gave Ginny the other spoon so they could enjoy desert before dinner.
Sitting sideways she could help but poke the beast slightly, it was only fair anyways that she should get a little payback. "So, you and Harry, huh? Does mummy dearest know that you've been knocking boots since sixth year?" She grinned widely.
Ginny's cheeks instantly went up in flames as she turned wide-eyed towards Hermione.
Hermione let out a snort, surprised the girl could still blush after hearing her go on and on about her love life while at Hogwarts. Ginny's eyes narrowed in on Hermione.
"Does Thorfinn know you moaned his name once in fifth year?" Hermione let out a gasp, mouth dropping open in shock.
"I did not, you take that back you hussy." Ginny cackled in response.
"You so did, 'Mmmm, yes, please Rowle just like that, please, Thorfinn, please." Ginny was laughing uproariously by the end of her impression. "I can't even imagine what you were fantasizing about in that dream, but he must have been good at it, because that was a very satisfied moan."
Hermione's cheeks burned as she tried to come up with a response. "If you say a word of that to anyone, you are going to wish you were dead. I swear Ginerva Weasley." Hermione tried to stay firm but ended up cracking a smile. It was good to have a chat like this again. It made everything feel like it was normal.
"What'll you do, hex me?" So, Ginny was trying to call her bluff, huh, Hermione smirked.
"If you tell anyone about that then I will talk about when you had a wet dream about Neville. And in your sixth year too. I wonder what Harry would say to that." She smirked victoriously when Ginny held up her hands in surrender.
"I give, I give. Can't help what you dream can you?" Ginny gave Hermione a commiserating look.
The doorbell for the flat rang through the lull in conversation startling both witches. The wine had made its way through their systems causing their inhibitions to fly out the window. Hermione let out girlish giggle that would have made her cringe were she sober.
Standing quickly, she grabbed some cash from her purse and went to answer the pizza boy. She quickly paid the teenager and slammed the door unceremoniously in his face after catching him ogling her unashamedly.
She made her way back towards the living room with the food miraculously in tact after her less than steady trek back.
Ginny shoved a piece of pizza in her face as she grinned at her best friend.
"So, how big do you think he is?" Ginny's grin widened as Hermione choked at the question.
"Ginny!" Hermione sputtered as a blush lit up her cheeks in a fierce red hue.
"Oh, come on, Hermione! You can't tell me you never thought about what that man looks like unclothed. He's an absolute beast. And I heard that he was quite popular with the ladies both in and outside of Hogwarts. There has to be a reason why." She burst out laughing at the jealous expression that flashed across Hermione's face briefly. The woman may not have chosen him to be her husband, but she had a jealous streak a mile wide.
"That is hardly appropriate!" I thinks a lady doth protest too much. A thought that made Ginny's impish grin stretch impossibly wide across her face.
"Besides, I don't ask you about your and Harry's sex life." Hermione shuddered at the pure thought.
"I don't mind sharing; Harry might be on the shorter side but boy does that man have a large co-" Hermione cut off the redhead with a hand firmly across her mouth.
"That is something that I never, ever, ever, want to know." Hermione said feeling queasy. She released her hold on Ginny's mouth once she was certain she wouldn't continue.
"Careful, Mione, that was a little bit of a turn on. Harry loves to silence me." Ginny burst into boisterous laughter as Hermione gagged and mimicked a vomiting motion.
"Please shut up. I will answer any questions you want just please never talk about Harry's bedroom habits again." Ginny gave Hermione a look threatening to continue her dangerous sentence if she didn't answer the question.
"I can honestly say that has never crossed my mind. I have been a little to preoccupied trying to find a way out of this insipid arrangement." An indignant look darkened Hermione's features. "Unfortunately, a fruitless venture."
"Well, at least if you're going to be bonded to a man for the rest of your life, he is attractive." Ginny gave her a devil may care grin and held her glass up in toast to her fiancé.
"At least there is that." Hermione caved slightly; glad Ginny seemed to have given up on the topic for now.
Two hours later a very tipsy Ginny stumbled her way to the floo leaving Hermione to her own thoughts. As she was cleaning the mess they made, stumbling around her flat herself, she heard a telltale tapping on the window. Looking up she groaned to see a missive in an owl's beak. She let the blasted thing in giving it a treat as she stared at the intrepid thing. Impatiently the owl tapped its beak on the note leaving small marks on the parchment.
Deciding not to hold off on it too much longer she opened the letter. It was from the Ministry of Magic.
Dear Ms. Dolohov,
Congratulations on your betrothal to Mr Thorfinn Rowle. We hope this letter reaches you well. We are writing to inform you that Mr. Rowle has been granted parole. His sentence is set to end 26th December 1998. He will need to be released into the custody of a family member. Please be at the ministry to collect your betrothed at 10am Monday morning.
Wishing you and your family well,
Department of Magical Law Enforcement
All the blood drained from her face. Rowle's sentence was up. How could that have slipped past her. She thought she had more time. That was five weeks away. Five weeks and she would have to pick up her husband to be. Five weeks and her freedom would be stolen away. Forever. There was no divorce.
She needed a drink.