He'd called me Hermione.
Out of all the ridiculous things that my brain chose to fixate on, it was that one little thing; he hadn't called me Hermione since he'd found out about the Obliviation. It had been Granger, and not in the sweet, teasing way.
I was irrationally angry that he'd used my name when we were in a bad place.
When my door clicked shut, I silenced my office and fired a Reductor Curse at the chair he'd been sitting in, blowing it to bits. I was still crying, my heart a shattered mess all over the floor.
Everything Blaise had told me that morning had broken me.
Don't you want to know what he said to me, Hermione? He hates you. He's never going to forgive you for what you did to him. It doesn't matter how many times you apologise or what memories you show him; the end result is the same.
Draco hates you.
And when he'd seen how affected I was by all of that, he continued on.
I've been here for you and given you everything you've ever asked for. And you're still pulling away. You still love him more, no matter what I do or give up for you.
When will you get it, Hermione?
You and Draco aren't meant to be. You're not supposed to work out.
There is no happy ending for the two of you.
I love you. I'm here for you. I was there for you when he was tearing you down, when he got Astoria pregnant.
Who was there for you when Lucius threatened your family?
Who was there for you after the Obliviation? After you went into the hospital?
We'd gone back and forth again. No matter how many times I tried to explain that I wasn't fully in love with Draco anymore, he wouldn't listen to me. He just kept reminding me of everything he'd done for me, and it made me feel guilty. I knew that was his intention, but it wasn't making me love him any more.
What Ron had said replayed in mind. "That doesn't mean you have to marry the bloke, Hermione."
Being there for someone — a friend — shouldn't create some sort of life debt or obligation. But it seemed that Blaise thought it did, and that broke me even further. While it was obvious that he'd cared about me, he also wanted something in return.
As more and more fights erupted, more and more doubts crept into my mind, and I didn't think I could give him what he wanted. He wanted some perfect, better version of me that had just moved on and completely forgotten about Draco.
That person didn't exist.
There was a part of me that was still in love with Draco, but I knew that what I'd said to Draco was true — we constantly hurt each other. We weren't good for each other, and I knew that would become clearer as we watched more memories.
But Blaise had changed, too — he'd morphed into someone nearly unrecognisable, his jealousy and anger running unchecked.
Ultimately, I knew I'd caused that change, and that only brought more guilt. His feelings for me had started poisoning him from the moment Draco had re-entered our lives. The guilt was irrational — I'd done nothing wrong — but I knew he wouldn't have been like this, if not for the past relationship I'd had with Draco.
That affair had harmed so many people, ruined so many lives… But, I also knew that if I could go back, I wouldn't really change a thing. As horrible as it was, it also made me feel in a way I hadn't before, made me see the world in a different light.
And when that light had gone out, I'd been left in darkness for so long that I'd nearly forgotten what the world looked like when Draco and I shared space, when my skin touched his. It was bright, vibrant — blues like the Mediterranean in Mykonos, red like the dress he bought me and the lipstick he favoured on me and the awnings on our Paris hotel, yellow like the cabs in New York City, sparkling silver like his eyes, or a myriad of rainbows like the Cartier diamond painted across the walls when I wore it.
The light and colours were different with Blaise. They were there, but not as bright. When I thought of Blaise, I saw Venice and Falmouth, the neutral tones of his flat. It was murkier, muted, clouded by the anger he felt towards me, especially now.
With a sigh, I shut my brain off, repaired the chair, and waved my wand, stripping the walls bare. All of my belongings packed themselves away neatly. I didn't take the time to sift through everything; I could do that when I unpacked. The photo Blaise had given me was on the top of the box and, as I looked down at it, I felt more tears threatening.
Once again, I was hurt that he'd given me the photo out of jealousy rather than love.
I shrunk the box down, cast a weightlessness charm on it, and packed it into my handbag. I'd think about it next week when I was unpacking, not right now.
Leaving my office, I locked the door and moved quickly towards the lift.
When I heard someone walking behind me, moving quickly to catch up, I knew it would be Draco yet again. But I couldn't get myself under control, couldn't push everything down.
Today had been too much.
When he reached out and pressed the button to call the lift, I closed my eyes.
"I didn't mean to upset you," he said quietly. "I genuinely was trying to check on you."
Opening them, I turned to face him, letting him see how broken I was. His hand started moving towards me and I stepped back, avoiding him.
"Don't. Please don't touch me."
If he did, his magic would seep under my skin and touch mine, make my soul sing, and I couldn't let him.
"Okay." His hands dropped back to his sides.
My chest was tight and my throat hurt, but I managed to breathe almost normally. Sharing a lift was doable. I'd stand as far away from him as I could, and it would all be fine.
And then I remembered lift rides of the past, his hand under my skirt, his fingers teasing me relentlessly. I remembered how we'd squeezed into corners just so we'd be pressed together.
"Granger?"
I blinked and realised the doors had opened in front of me. His hand was extended, gesturing for me to go first.
Thankfully, there was an older witch in the compartment. I stepped to one side of her, hoping Draco would stick to hating me and stand on the opposite one.
But he wavered, the line between love and hate blurring for him, the way it had for me so often.
He stood in front of me and I stared at his back, his neck, his perfectly fucking neat hair.
Gods, I could remember other times where he'd stand in front of me in the lift and my hands would sneak under his jacket, run along the waistband of his trousers, smooth down the front, tease him relentlessly.
When I huffed out a breath, I saw his hand fist at his side, and I knew he was itching to turn around, to talk further or examine my expression.
However, the lift thankfully landed at the Atrium level, and I followed him out. He paused and looked over his shoulder, silently asking me a question, the way he used to.
Do you need me?
Do you want me to come home with you?
I'm opening the door for you. Just walk through it.
Tell me you need me, and I'm there.
I swallowed hard and shook my head. Spending time with him would only complicate things, and I'd be with him tomorrow night. And it was clear he was conflicted about me. He cared, but he was still angry. He simultaneously wanted to know everything and nothing about our relationship.
"I'll see you tomorrow," I said, further signalling that I was going this alone.
Draco gave a single nod and moved to the nearest Floo as quickly as possible, like he had to get away before he said something more.
Once he disappeared, I retraced his steps and used the same fireplace, though I was sure I stepped out into a very different scene from the one he'd landed in.
My main living area had been disturbed since this morning.
There was shattered glass on the floor.
A book was open atop the table, a sealed envelope on top of it.
I stood frozen on the hearth, a chill sweeping down my spine as my defenses raised.
"Homenum Revelio," I murmured, though anyone in my house would've heard the Floo activate. The spell indicated that I was alone, and I didn't know if I felt relieved or even more terrified.
Turning my wand to the broken glass, I said, "Reparo."
Two figures formed, the shards separating themselves and reverting to their original shapes.
The otter and the dragon.
Again, a chill moved through me, and I knew who had done this — who had caused this destruction in my home. I stepped into the room, bending down to pick up the glass figurines and stroking my thumbs over them. Magic had put them back together, rejoining the broken bonds in the glass.
When I reached the table, I was thankful that I'd put all of Draco's memories in unbreakable vials, though there was one out of place, sitting in the Pensieve. Glancing down, I saw the hotel suite in Paris and my heart started racing. He'd watched me with Draco.
I felt sick, but I pushed through, focusing on the other anomaly in front of me.
The open book was one of my journals. Setting down the figurines and my bag, I picked up the envelope and could feel it had weight to it. My name was written across the front in Blaise's neat scrawl.
The journal, however, was open to the pages I'd hoped Blaise would never see. The entry was the one from the first time I'd seen Draco in Diagon Alley. I read it again, even though I nearly knew it by heart.
I saw you again today, and it's no better than it was a year ago.
You were with her and your beautiful son. You looked so fucking happy that I almost felt happy for a minute — I hadn't seen your smile in so long — and then I remembered that happiness wasn't directed at me. She is making you happy, just like your father said she would if I disappeared from your life. I thought he had been wrong, that you still wouldn't feel right with her, even if I was removed from the equation. I thought you were so different that you'd never find common ground.
How can you look at her and smile like that? You told me so many times that you cannot stand her and her vapid, social-climbing desires. You told me you never wanted to marry her and that she couldn't make you happy.
You lied. It was all a lie.
Like a masochist, I sat at a cafe table and watched your perfect little family walk along the street. Your son, the miniature version of you, toddled along, holding on to one of your fingers with one hand and one of hers with the other. I've never felt such searing jealousy course through me before but, then again, she has given you something that I never could've. I never could've given you that child with porcelain skin and straight white blond hair and light eyes. When you looked at her with affection in your eyes, I nearly pulled my wand out to shoot a hex at you.
However, I refrained. I left a few Galleons on the table and I got up, quickly walking to the opposite side of the street. I prayed that no one would stop me today. It's been nearly ten years since the bloody war. I shouldn't be important to anyone anymore. My luck has been shit for the past three years, though, so I was stopped by a mother and her little girl. I was not in the mood to look at another perfect child and smile, but that wasn't this little girl's fault. I smiled and chatted to her, and then I rushed along. Apparently, you and your family had crossed the street, and I crashed right into you.
You looked down at me, those grey eyes that haunt my dreams boring holes into my brain. I grabbed your arm to steady myself. For a second, I thought I saw a flicker of heat or love, but then you spoke. "Granger, you can let go now."
How fucking apt, I thought. As if I haven't been trying to do just that for over a year now.
"Sorry, Malfoy," I said, not able to articulate anything more.
Astoria cleared her throat. "We need to go, Draco. Your father is expecting us at the Manor."
I released your shirt and stepped back, but you hadn't looked away yet. You were staring, like you were trying to figure something out or find something in me.
Your son started babbling. "Da-dada-da-da."
That snapped you out of whatever momentary trance you had been in while looking at me. You seamlessly bent down and lifted the boy, turning toward me in such a natural way that my breath caught. "Scorp, wave to Granger. We need to get to your grandfather's house."
The little boy looked at me, his eyes a silvery-blue color, and he waved. Astoria grabbed your arm and pulled you along. As soon as you had turned, she shot me a sly little smile, knowing she had won in the end. She had you and your son and there I was, totally alone.
I started to walk down the street again, reaching the Apparition point. I spun on the spot and landed in my little house. It's the same house where you used to spend most of your time before everything went to shit.
I can't afford to sell it and move, but I'm not sure if I could ever do it anyway.
I sat in the armchair that you used to occupy, and I leant forward, elbows on knees and my face buried in my hands. I repeated the words that have been my mantra for the past eighteen months.
It was for the best.
You have a son.
You have a wife.
You don't even know what you're missing, what I'm missing.
Lucius will kill my parents if I don't stay away from you.
It was for the best.
You're off living a new life, one that is basically built on a lie that I created for you so you wouldn't miss what we once had.
And I'm still here, in the same little house, just living with the memory of you.
Blaise had read this — this entry where all of my pain and raw emotions were on display, where I hadn't mentioned him at all — and he'd smashed the Patronus figurines.
I could understand the rage.
But what I didn't understand was the envelope.
If he had been that angry, why would he take the time to write a letter?
Taking a deep breath, I summoned my tiny bit of remaining courage and slid my finger into the envelope, opening it slowly. The first thing I noticed was the glint of a gemstone.
My heart fell to the floor, along with the envelope.
I pulled my wand from my pocket and tried to focus on a happy memory. I hadn't tried to cast a Patronus in years, but I needed someone to read this with me.
When had I been happiest of late?
James and Sev's faces filled my mind — the way they'd laughed and run and played at the park — and I waved my wand. "Expecto Patronum!"
At first, I thought I'd failed at casting. Silver vapour erupted, but not my otter. However, just as I was getting ready to cast again, it shifted into the form of a dragon.
"No!" I cried, looking at Draco's Patronus in front of me, my stomach churning. "Why? Why is he taking over every part of me?"
The dragon looked confused and sad.
"Please go to Ron," I told it. "Ask him to come to me. Harry too."
It nodded, giving me a bit of a sneer at the end. I might have been imagining things at this point, though.
I knelt down on the floor, reaching for the envelope.
My Floo activated and Ron stepped through. "Bloody hell, Hermione! When did your—"
Harry stumbled out, knocking into Ron. "Why is your Patronus a dragon?"
They both noticed my position on the floor and rushed over to me, the Patronus forgotten. I handed them the envelope.
"Can you—I think there's a ring in there…"
Ron opened it and tipped it sideways. Sure enough, a ring — one with a diamond of obscene size — landed in his palm.
"Who—"
"Blaise," I murmured. "Blaise was here while I was at work. He read"—I gestured to the table—"my journals. I asked him not to."
Turning the ring over in his hand, he said, "There's a letter here, too."
Looking up at Harry, I silently begged him to read it.
"Hermione," he began, his voice gentle. "What happened?"
I shrugged, even though I knew. Blaise had finally snapped.
Harry sighed and took the envelope from Ron, pulling the letter free. I watched as his eyes skimmed over the words, widening slightly.
"What?" I asked. "What could he possibly have said?"
"I think you need to read it for yourself," Harry stated. "I'm not—I can't read it to you."
"How bad is it?" Ron asked.
"It's… It's a lot."
After setting the ring on the table, Ron's hands moved to my shoulders, pulling me to standing. He guided me to the sofa and Harry followed closely behind, letter in hand. He sat beside me, tucking me into his side, and Ron took the armchair.
"If you read this, you're coming back to Grimmauld with me tonight. And we're locking your house down."
Again, my stomach churned.
Ron gave Harry a look that plainly said what the fuck?
With shaky hands, I took the parchment.
Hermione,
I know you asked me not to read the journals, but I couldn't take wondering. I had to know. I had to know what you've been thinking since he came back. You won't talk to me, and you just keep pushing me away. I don't understand how you could just turn your back on me as soon as he's around after everything I did to help you.
We were building something real. You told me you loved me, and then you pushed me away again. You get mad at me about Sara and the little white lie I told you, but it's somehow okay that Draco was with another woman the whole time you were together?
I can't take it. I will never understand why you're just okay with letting him back into your life. He promised you he wasn't having sex with Astoria and then he got her pregnant. He treated you like you were nothing more than a whore—
I choked back a sob. Through all the arguments we'd had, he'd never said anything like that. He'd well and truly snapped; he knew that Draco and I had been so much more than a sexual affair. Wiping my tears, I kept reading.
Why don't you want to be happy? I can make you happy — I've been doing it for months. I've given you every single bit of my heart, welcomed you into my home, turned other women away, and all I wanted was for you to love me in return.
The enclosed ring is yours; I was going to take you away for your birthday and ask you to marry me. I've only ever wanted that with you. I can't even imagine marrying anyone else, but you'd rather fall into playing the other woman for Draco again. Instead of being someone's everything, you're willing to settle for a daily shag and the occasional weekend away. You're willing to give up having your own kids, your own family, for him.
I know you try to fill that void with Potter's kids, but it will never be the same.
I wanted to fix everything for you. Watching Draco break you down was painful for me, but once he was gone, we were supposed to be something. I thought if Draco could make you fall in love with him, I could too. I thought I had, to be honest with you, but then you had to let him in again.
Read the journal entry. Read how you thought. You didn't even think of me once. You just went on and on about how Astoria had won and how you were alone and it was for the best.
What about me, Hermione?
I'm leaving Britain — which, in retrospect, is what I should've suggested we do as soon as I found out Draco was coming back. I need that space and time you keep going on about. I don't think therapy is the answer to what's broken inside of you, but if you'd rather talk than take action to sort yourself out, then go for it. I just can't do it, especially if you won't be honest with me about what you're feeling for Draco.
Just know that I love you. I will always love you, even if you're too broken to truly love me back.
Blaise
Once I was through the letter, I could feel pain in my chest. It was so much worse than I thought it would be. I never would've expected Blaise to flat out tell me I was broken. He had wanted to marry me, and I'd known that, but to see the evidence — that he'd already had the ring and a plan — and then have him basically tell me that I was too broken to handle it… It just broke me more.
I didn't think he would want to know my feelings for Draco.
Crumpling the letter, I threw it towards the fireplace and looked to Ron, tears streaming down my face freely.
"Take that ring with you when you leave," I said, my voice breaking. "I can't—I can't look at it."
"Hermione," he began, and I shook my head, cutting him off. He looked to Harry. "What did that wanker say?"
"That I'm broken. That he's leaving, just like everyone always does. He's not even willing to try going to therapy with me."
Ron stood and walked over to the hearth, kicking the balled up parchment into the fireplace and pointing his wand at it. "Incendio!" he growled. "You are not broken. And even if you were, you're trying to fix yourself. If he can't be there for you when things are hard, he doesn't fucking deserve you."
Harry quickly agreed. "Everything is going to work out, Hermione. You're going to start over, and you won't be with someone who is holding this relationship with Draco over your head and lying to you."
I knew they were trying to help, but right now, I just wanted to cry. I needed to mourn the loss of Blaise, both as a lover and as the best friend I'd had through one of the most difficult times in my life. It had been obvious that we were heading in that direction but, once again, knowing what was going to happen hadn't made it any easier for me.
Leaning against Harry, I cried harder than I had in years. Blaise had used my words against me, turning time and space into something more permanent than I had ever thought I wanted it to be and shattering my heart even further.
He was gone, and while I was angry at him for the lies and things he'd said, it still fucking hurt.
And he'd said the most horrible things, stomping on the already broken parts of me.
What I couldn't understand was his comment about Draco — that I was willing to settle for being the other woman again, for never having kids of my own. It wasn't like that. I wasn't falling back into old patterns with Draco. In fact, I'd made sure to avoid touching him or letting him in too far at all costs.
"Hermione?" Ron said quietly, kneeling in front of me. "You've got to pull it together a little bit. You're going to make yourself ill."
I covered my face with my hands.
"I'm sorry," I began. "I shouldn't have bothered you—"
I felt long fingers wrapping around my wrists, prying my hands away so I had to look at him.
"You haven't bothered us. We are here for you," he said, his voice calmer than I'd expected. "And the fact that you're asking for help means that you're not broken."
Slowly, I nodded.
Harry cleared his throat. "Hermione, I'm sorry you're going through this. I didn't think he'd just—"
"I didn't think so, either," I answered, wiping my eyes with the back of my hand. "I know I wasn't perfect and I hid things, but I never — I'm not trying to start something with Draco again. I swear."
Tightening his arm around my shoulders, he said, "I know that. I know you don't want to go back there. You don't have to explain anything."
"And he read my journals. I asked him not to, and he came here and did it anyway."
Ron continued to kneel in front of me and his hand squeezed my knee. "He's a right git for doing that."
"Yeah, well, he also decided to smash the otter and the dragon." I huffed out a breath. "Apparently he just decided to be a total fucking arsehole all around."
I saw the boys exchange a glance, and then Harry squeezed me. "So, your Patronus…"
"I hadn't cast one in years. I haven't had a need for it," I answered. "I was just as surprised as you were."
"I wasn't surprised at all, actually," Harry stated. "I never mentioned it because I didn't think it would be a good thing, but Draco… his Patronus is an otter now. Or it was when Scorpius was born."
Of course it was.
Our Patronuses had switched at some point.
"And Blaise's was a lioness," I said quietly. "I don't know what any of this means anymore."
Ron stood and took out his wand, casting his Patronus with a furrowed brow. It was the same as it had always been. He looked to Harry.
"Mine's still the stag, too. There's nothing wrong with it staying the same."
"Right. I was just curious," Ron replied. "Has Blaise's always been a lioness?"
Harry thought back. "Since Auror training, yeah."
I'd asked Blaise how long he'd waited for me, and his only answer had been a lot fucking longer than you know.
Did it really go back that far?
"Are you sure?" I asked, and he nodded. "Does that mean something?"
"What does it matter?" Ron said, narrowing his eyes. "After tonight — what he wrote in that letter — he'd better just fuck right off and stay wherever he ran off to."
Casting my eyes down, I stared at my folded hands. I knew Ron was right. The violence of smashing my mementos, the harsh words, the way he placed all the blame on me… I couldn't let Blaise back into my life after this. It was too much.
"Do you want me to change your wards?" Harry asked. "I can block him out."
Swallowing hard, I looked up when I answered. "Yes. Change them. He can't come back here."
And it struck me that I'd never once blocked Draco out, no matter how bad his jealous behaviour had gotten.
"While I do this, go get some things together for tonight. You're coming back to Grimmauld with me."
As Harry rose, he pulled me to my feet and looked to Ron. "Do you want to come over for a bit too?"
Ron looked at me questioningly, giving me the choice.
"You can go be with Luna and Stella," I said, giving him the out. "Harry and Pansy will take care of me."
"Let me Floo home. It's still early. I'm sure no one's eaten dinner," Ron replied. "Think Pansy will mind if we come round?"
Harry shook his head. "There's always room at Grimmauld."
"Really, I don't want everyone to upend—"
"We're not, Hermione. We're all going to sit around the table, watch the kids play, and have a meal," Ron interrupted. "Stop acting like you're an inconvenience. You're not. We want to be here for you."
His sincerity was obvious and I slowly started to make my way towards the stairs. Looking over my shoulder, I simply said, "Thank you."
"I'm going to effing kill him for this," Pansy hissed under her breath, her eyes roaming around and looking at the kids. "He knew you were going to have a hard time with it, and things get rough and he just leaves without actually talking to you?"
"Seems like it," Ron replied for me. "Running off before Hermione has the chance to break his heart, I guess."
Luna's eyes were focused on me, reading my expressions and taking everything in. It was unnerving because I had no idea what she might say.
"Granger, do you think that's it?" Pansy asked. "He was afraid?"
I carded a hand through my curls. "Well, I had no warning. I thought he would be coming back to Penelope's with me on Monday, but I guess he decided he was done after he read my journals."
"I'm going to hunt him down. I can't believe I encouraged you towards someone who would just walk away like that." She twisted her wedding band on her finger. "He told me he'd been in love with you for years. Why would he just give up?"
Luna's ethereal voice filled the room. "Because he knew some things can't ever be changed. There's been something connecting Hermione and Draco for years."
Looking at his wife, Ron said, "And you never told me?"
She patted his hand. "You weren't ready to hear it. I know you, love." Her wide blue eyes fixed on me. "Nor were you, though I suspect you knew there was something there from the first time you had intercourse."
Harry choked on his water and Pansy scoffed. "We've all known about Hermione and Draco for nearly two years now, and you've never mentioned this before."
Luna hummed. "Well, it really wasn't my business to share."
"Enough," I said. "I don't want to talk about Draco. Whatever was between us — or is between us — it's irrelevant. He's no less married now than he was before."
"You said he told you he was sleeping in another room," Harry reminded me.
"He did, but that doesn't mean anything. He's angry with her—"
"And it doesn't matter because you're not going to go back to him," Ron interrupted.
"Exactly," I agreed. "We don't work. All we do is hurt each other."
Deep inside my chest, saying that hurt, even now. Even when I should be mourning the loss of my relationship with Blaise, the pain I felt at saying that Draco and I wouldn't work was far more intense.
The next morning, I went to Penelope's office, desperate to talk to someone who had no connection to the situation I was in.
I thanked Merlin that I had made another appointment — one for just me — because I was able to settle in and get right down to it. Running through what had happened since Monday, I felt my heart racing and my voice cracking in places.
Just like every other time I'd met with her, I paced and rambled, waiting for her to interrupt me and ask questions that would lead me in a different direction. My brain was examining every angle of the Blaise situation by the time we were done talking. As usual, she'd given me a lot to think about.
And, much to my surprise, she told me she was happy that Blaise had decided to give me space.
"I think you need it, Hermione," she'd said. "And I'm not positive you would've truly taken the time that you need to deal with your feelings about Draco's return. If you were trying to manage Blaise's feelings and Draco's feelings, you'd leave your own for last. You'd try to keep both of them happy, regardless of what that meant for you."
While I'd wanted to argue, I knew she likely had a point.
After ensuring I had another appointment scheduled for Monday, I made my way back to Grimmauld. As soon as I stepped through the Floo and into the kitchen, I knew I needed to sit and write all my thoughts down. My brain was running a mile a minute, and my heart was pounding, too.
"Hermione?" Harry called, coming down the stairs with Lily in his arms. "How was the appointment?"
"Why aren't you at the office?"
He shrugged. "I wanted to wait for you. I owled both Malfoy and Mel and told them to Floo call if they needed me earlier than midday. There's not much to worry about at the moment."
"The appointment was fine. I…" My voice trailed off. "I need time, I think."
"What do you mean?" he asked.
Running my hands through my hair, I started to gather the strands, twisting them up into a knot on top of my head. "I'm taking today to myself," I said, making a snap decision. "I need time to sort things out in my mind, and I can't do that while I'm working. I think I need to just go somewhere and think and write in my journal."
"Do you want company?"
I shook my head. "Definitely not." At his look of concern, I added, "I swear, I just want to be alone for a little while. I'll come back here tonight so you can see I'm okay."
"Aren't you supposed to meet with Malfoy tonight? Every other day, right?"
"Yeah," I replied, remembering that I hadn't seen Draco last night. "But I can come here straight after. Penelope just — she gave me a lot to think about, and I want to do it. I fought it last time, and it took me so long to get better."
Slowly, he started to nod, agreeing with me. "Okay. But I want to know where you're going."
As I thought, I chewed my cheek. There were so many possibilities, but only one appealed to me.
"I'm just going into the town near my house," I replied. "There's a little coffee shop there, and I'm just going to sit at one of the tables and write, I think."
"Okay," he said sceptically. "Can you just check in with me, please? Not all the time, but every so often."
"If you'll do me a favour."
Harry looked at me, gently rocking his fussing daughter. "Depends on what it is."
"Just tell Malfoy that I'll meet him at six, like always."
"Are you sure you want to see him tonight?"
"Honestly? Not at all," I began. "But dragging this out isn't going to make it any easier for anyone."
"Okay. And you'll come back for the night?"
"If you really want me to."
Just then, little feet were on the stairs, and I turned to see who was running towards us. James appeared, nearly slamming into Harry's legs.
"Auntie Mi! You're home!"
My heart swelled, and I crouched down and opened my arms to him. When he ran into them, I hugged him close. Unbidden, Blaise's words seeped into my brain, trying to ruin this moment.
I know you try to fill that void with Potter's kids, but it will never be the same.
The cruelty of that statement hurt, but I knew I had to push it aside.
Regardless of what Blaise thought, I didn't use James and Sev to fill a void for me. No, they had their own special places in my heart, and I would never make them think otherwise. They were my godchildren.
"I'm here for a few minutes," I said to James. "But then I have to go to my house for awhile."
"You come back?" he asked.
Even though I knew I should try to deal with everything on my own, I couldn't resist his sweet question.
"I'll be back tonight, probably right before bedtime."
He smiled and looked to Harry. "Dad, can I have a sleepover with Auntie Mi?"
"If she wants to, that's fine with me."
James nodded his head. "She wants to."
"You didn't even ask her," Harry pointed out, transferring Lily to his other arm. "I think you should at least ask."
"Auntie Mi, can we?"
I laughed. "Of course we can, my love."
Clapping his hands, he laughed too.
And then he screeched and ran off, much like any three-year-old would.
"Pansy's going to kill you," Harry stated.
Standing up straight, I shrugged. "She can try. I won't give up time with James. He won't always want to cuddle."
Harry looked down at Lily. "It's true. You only get so many years before they run off to Hogwarts or are too cool for you."
"I think you've got at least a decade before she does that," I said, teasing.
He raised her to his lips, placing a kiss on her forehead. "And that's not nearly enough time."
Walking over, I hugged him as close as I could without squishing Lily.
"I love you, you know."
Smiling, he said, "I know. And I love you too. Go and do whatever you need to do. I'll speak to Malfoy. See you later."
With that, I dropped a kiss on Lily's forehead, one on Harry's cheek, and headed home.
I hadn't ended up going into town.
Instead, I found myself sitting at my dining table, thinking everything through with an empty journal sitting in front of me. My mind kept fixating on one thing.
Last week, Draco had told me I needed to talk to Hannah about Blaise. Even though it didn't really matter now, I kept wondering why.
What did she know? Had Blaise told her something and then she'd told Draco?
Hannah wasn't the type to break confidences, so it was possible that whatever she'd told Draco was perfectly innocuous and he was misconstruing it. But my mind was turning it over and over.
With a sigh, I stood and tucked my journal into my handbag. When I looked towards the Floo, I saw the blank spaces on my mantle and turned back, grabbing the otter and the dragon. I settled them into their previous positions and took a small handful of powder from the jar beside them.
Throwing it down, I said, "The Leaky Cauldron!"
Green filled my vision, the emerald flames carrying me to London.
As soon as I stepped through, I made my way over to the bar, surprised to see it vacant at this time of day. Taking a seat, I ran my fingers along the recently polished countertop, waiting for Hannah to come back.
Idly, I thought about how many times I'd been here, likely in this exact seat. Hannah had always given me a safe place to indulge in martinis and Butterbeer and wine, making sure that I didn't leave with anyone or Apparate away. Hell, this is where I'd been the night of Draco's stag party.
"Hermione?"
Swivelling on the stool, I looked over at her and smiled. Her baby bump preceded her, and I could imagine Neville's gentle hands settling over it every night, holding the woman who'd put him back together and their child at once.
"Hey," I said, feeling myself tear up a little bit. I was happy for them and envious and confused all at the same time. "How are you feeling?"
"Honestly, I'm tired most days," she replied, her blue eyes showing a bit of that. "But other than that, I've been fine."
I nodded and smiled at her.
"But how are you? I know it hasn't been that long, but we didn't really get to talk about Draco the last time I saw you."
Inhaling deeply, I tried to steady myself. "I'm actually here to talk about Blaise."
"What about him?" she asked as she made her way behind the bar.
Again, I swivelled to face her. "I've been going through memories with Draco, starting from the first night we were together, and he told me I needed to talk to you about Blaise. Apparently you'd told him something, and he didn't think I'd believe him if he told me."
She bit her lip, looking nervous. "Well, let me think for a moment. I've spoken to him several times since he started coming around again."
My stomach twisted as I wondered what else she might have said to him.
"I can't remember saying much about Blaise recently, though I am so happy the two of you decided to give things a go—"
I held my hand up. "I'm going to say this fast. Blaise left. I don't know where he is, but he's gone."
Shock suffused her features, her eyes widening and her lips parting. One of her hands settled over her bump and she said, "I'm so sorry, Hermione. I had no idea."
Shaking my head, I continued, "I'm not okay right now, and I don't want to talk about it. I just — I need to know if there's anything he's ever said to you that you shared with Draco."
Hannah was uncomfortable, but I could tell she was thinking back, trying to remember any little detail.
"Well," she began, reaching for a glass and filling it with an Aguamenti, "I think I may have told him about how Blaise used to keep an eye on you when you were in here a lot. You know, after Harry and Ron got married."
"He did?" I asked.
With a nod, she kept speaking. "Yes. There were times when men would come up to you, and he'd sort of suggest that they look elsewhere since you were usually a bit…"
"Pissed," I answered, knowing what I was like back then.
"So I figured Blaise had been harbouring feelings for you since then, maybe even as far back as Hogwarts."
"What makes you think it would go all the way back to school?"
She pushed her blonde hair back from her face. "Some of the girls in Hufflepuff noticed things in sixth year. The Slytherins and the Gryffindors had always been divided, but that year, it intensified. While you lot were focusing on the upcoming war, we observed, and we noticed both Draco and Blaise. Their eyes were always on you when they thought no one was looking."
"Well, that's sufficiently creepy," I mumbled. "I mean, I know Draco had feelings for me back then, but Blaise?"
And then I thought back to what Pansy had said the night before — he told me he'd been in love with you for years.
How many years?
"I mean, I don't know for sure," Hannah said. "He just seemed like he was protecting you in here, like he was being noble. He was usually with another group or…"
"Or?" I asked, looking at her.
"Sara. He came in with Sara sometimes while you were here. I think there were occasionally other girls, too. I just remember her specifically."
Of course — Sara and Hannah had been in the same house at Hogwarts, only a few years separating them. They knew each other, and she would've stood out.
My hurt must have shown on my face because Hannah reached out and settled her hand over mine. "I'm sorry, Hermione. I can't imagine what you're going through."
I gave her a weak smile. "Things are horrible right now. Between Blaise just fucking off and coming clean about everything to Draco, I'm spent."
"Draco asked me about your… relationship. I told him what I suspected," she admitted, looking guilty. "I know that was probably wrong of me, but he was a wreck after he found out, and I just—"
"It's okay, Hannah. Really. Thank you for not mentioning it until he'd already found out," I said, cutting her off. "I knew you probably had an idea that something had happened between us, but never thought to tell you the whole of it."
Waving me off, she said, "How about a glass of wine? And we can talk a bit more?"
"One glass," I told her. "No more than that. Promise me you'll say no."
"Okay. One glass, and you can tell me as much or as little about the Draco and Blaise situations as you want. Or I can chatter endlessly."
"Sounds like a plan."