Harry stared up at the building from his place on the quiet sidewalk. It was cold as hell, the leather jacket doing nothing to keep bay the cold, and all he wanted was to go back to his own flat where he knew Blaise would be at-or if he wasn't available he could call Luna. She was a sweet thing in bed and shy-refreshing thing from Blaise's kinky arse. Feeling his glasses slid lower, Harry scrunched his nose to keep them at their spot. Ron scuffed his boot against the gravel, his hands stuffed in his jacket, pulling it tight against his body. He was silent, he hardly ever talked unless he was home-quitting his Auror job and becoming a stay-at-home dad while letting Daphne work at Hogwarts as a Student Coordinator.
Hermione's flat was in an upscale neighborhood, red bricks and its white frames made it beautiful. Flowers were in well kempt beds on the front lawn, the grass a brilliant green. He knew she was on the third floor, but she had added more wards blocking him and anyone she knew from entering the building. Harry was worried. She had taken a sick leave (really, Rebar forced it on her, forcing her to go a month to properly heal from the dark spell) and then a couple days later before she returned back to work, Hermione sent a letter in saying she was taking her vacation time (this was Hermione they were speaking about-and her vacation time racked up to a month in a half). Harry had found it suspicious, then when he mentioned it to Malfoy who looked like he had better days-the haunting in his eyes reminded him of Astoria's and Scorpius funeral.
It had been raining that day which had been fitting. Luna stood next to him, silent tears running down her tanned cheeks, she had came back from studying endangered dragons in Romania to attend the funeral. Hermione on Luna's other side, was silently sobbing, her hand in Malfoy's. His face was completely blank and he reeked of Firewhisky.
He shuddered at the memory, looking at Ron, he snorted. Ron's pale skin was whiter than usual, the thousands of freckles dotting his face stark against him (he currently rivaled Malfoy's extreme paleness) and the tip of his nose was a shade of red similar to his famous Weasley hair. Harry secretly took out his wand slightly from his sleeve.
"Pignus Confractio." Harry moved his hand in a circle, whispering the spell they use constantly during raids. Hermione was going to kill him but he could care less. He hasn't seen his friend in a while and it was worrisome. He had to drag Ron along, he wasn't used to being outside any longer and seven years of self-conflicted confinement with his children changed a man. Harry knew Ron meant well, a small part of him still loved Hermione. They were each other's first love and if Harry remembered Ron's words "She's fucking everything to me, mate." Then, Hermione's nightmares plagued her and she hardly slept, throwing herself in her studies of the human behavior and psychology. Ron became even more paranoid as an Auror so he drank like rum was the only thing on earth. Harry had joined him, they were best friends, and hey if one were to become a drunk at least they'll be drunk together (This is the type of logic Hermione would slap them behind the head for). They tried to help each other-they were in a bloody war together, talking should have come easily towards each other.
But it didn't. They couldn't formulate words of comfort or ease. Throats would constrict and minds would go blank.
Then one night, Hermione found both of her boys piss drunk and all she could do was laugh. They had lost so much in the war; family, love, dreams, innocence… hope…the will to continue.
Ron and Hermione broke it off until they could finally get it together, until they felt some resemblance of normal. A one night stand with Daphne Greengrass after another rush of rum and dancing, a rushed marriage-Rose and Hugo Weasley were born. Harry began a torrid affair with Blaise Zabini for months-shockingly, Blaise shamed his wife with asking of divorce and full custody of his son. Harry wasn't ready for becoming exclusive, hell Ginny asked for marriage-telling Harry to pick her over anything or anyone. Harry froze which of course angered Ginny, and she left with the Harpies and never visited unless she had a match in London. He wasn't ready for commitment and if he was, Hermione and Ron knew it would not have been with Ginny-she was his number one fan. He didn't need any more admiration, he needed someone who would kick his arse if he bummed a cigarette, who would argue with him, and showed him what love can really be. Then came along Luna. Scorpius had just been born, Hermione was newly single once again, and Blaise and Harry had sex more times than they all cared to remotely care about. Luna was studying why fairies were going extinct in London-for how long she was staying was unknown. Harry had shared too many details with Hermione of the time they screwed on his desk when she had dropped by to say hello. Harry told Blaise and Blaise had shrugged nonchalantly.
Draco then confided to Hermione on how Blaise confided in him on how torn he really was. How in love he was with Potter who just didn't really notice him.
Hermione felt her heart break for the Slytherin. She knew that feeling too well.
They were a torrid bunch.
Harry knocked on the glass door of Hermione's apartment. Ron's teeth chattering and the sound of a trumpet the only sound in the hallway. It was warmer in her than the freezing cold outside, he felt feeling in his toes return. Looking at Ron who was blowing puffs of air onto his palm made him snicker. Which in turn caused Ron to flip him off with a sarcastic grin on his face.
"Hermione! Open the door. It's bloody freezing out here." Ron raised his voice, hoping the tiny woman (she was 5'5 - which was an absolute lie, Hermione was 5'4½, but her doctor denied her the 5'5 despite bloody being 5'4½). There was utter silence.
It irked them both. Harry reached for the knob and turned it over. Before fully opening the door, Ron and Harry both took out their wands. Ready to protect themselves. They aren't that stupid.
Door didn't squeak open like it usually did, the apartment complex was too bloody fancy to allow such a thing as doors creaking obnoxiously when it opened slowly. Harry and Ron both trained their eyesight to the witch staring at the ceiling. Books surrounding her body from her position from the floor.
Harry had always loved her flat. It was filled with warm colors and her sofa cushions contorted to your body's natural curves. Encasing them and letting anyone who entered relax and feel safe. If anything it chilled both boys to the bone now as they stood in Hermione's living room.
"'Mione?" Ron's voice was quiet, his fear of finding her dead causing tremors in his hand. His wand falling, the plush carpet muffling its fall.
"I screwed up a lot. I am so fucking scared." Her voice was raw and torn, Harry and Ron looked at each other. There best friend was down, memories of her injured and weakened form after Lestrange's torture kicked them into full gear. They had to help her, she just healed.
She couldn't go back.
Hey all! This is more of a filler chapter. The full drama commences in the next chapter. Please remember to check my profile on updates as I am in college and won't be posting in the middle of the night (it's currently 4:01am)! But I promise I will not abandon this story at all costs. If I lag and take more than two days to update, please just PM, I'll get a notif that goes straight to my phone. Alright my little ducklings, enjoy!
(P.S THANK YOU FOR THE REVIEWS AND FOLLOWS AND FAVORITES! I KNOW THIS CHAPTER ISNT AS LONG AS I WANTED IT TO BE BUT I DIDN'T WANT TO RUSH INTO THE PLOT BUT NEVER FEAR! THE NEXT CHAPTER WILL BE LONGER THAN A DROOPING BUM.)
XO
Latin:
confractio; breach
pignus security
