"I'll see you in a bit then?" Mrs. Weasley asked as she gave Hermione one final hug along with her last six. "Be sure to get some food in you before you go out there. Wouldn't want you looking peaky, after all. I want the world to see the Hermione we know...and we can't do that on an empty stomach, now can we?"
Knowing Molly was referring to the baked goodies Hermione had failed to see upon her arrival, Hermione nodded her head and promised to get something in her stomach before she left the Ministry.
Before Mrs. Weasley could squeeze her into another embrace, George swung his arm around her shoulders and began leading his mother away. It earned him a hard slap on the shoulder when Hermione overheard his comment about wanting to fatten her up like some old pig.
"Oh, shush, George! Honestly, I don't want the poor dear to starve - "
Mrs. Weasley's final words were cut off as the door finally swung shut behind her. The only two left in the room now were herself and Harry. He had obviously been talkative towards her during their reunion, though she noticed he seemed a bit more hesitant as the crowd started to disperse to join back with the rest of the public in the entrance of the Ministry. While she was in no way looking forward to the press themselves, seeing as what they wrote nowadays was nothing but rubbish, it was a small comfort to know she would have a few people in the face of hundreds looking out for her.
Harry joined Hermione by her bedside and sunk down onto the mattress. Releasing a heavy sigh, a content smile overtook his face as he stared at the blue aster on her nightstand.
"You don't know how grateful I am to have you back, Hermione," Harry started. His voice wavered lightly, but he showed no sign of breaking into tears. In fact, he looked happier than she had seen him in a long time.
"Considering you haven't left me alone for the past half hour, I kind of figured it out for myself," Hermione chuckled. "I am happy to see you again, though, along with everyone else that came. It's a small comfort to know not everyone has given up yet."
"I don't think anyone really did since the end of the war," Harry replied, fidgeting with his hands in his lap. "We just needed a push to get back up again, I suppose."
"What's that supposed to mean?" she asked, her brow furrowing in confusion.
Harry quickly darted his eyes to the door and back down towards her. He waited a few seconds before taking a deep breath and dropping his voice down to a low mutter. Hermione had to lean in just to hear his first sentence.
"After the Reaping, most of us headed back to Grimmauld Place. We were all a bit frantic at the time and were coming up with crazy ideas on how we could get you out of there. You know, find a way to break into the training center and bring back all the tributes. Maybe even gather up some people and start some sort of revolution somewhere."
Harry snorted and shook his head. "You can imagine that only lasted about a day or so."
Hermione smiled, but her heart squeezed in both admiration and pain that her friends and the ones she considered family tried to, even if it was for a short time, devise some idea of a way to bring her back. To bring them all back if they could.
"Afterwards, there was nothing much to do but wait. All of us were in a bit of a state. Just the same things on repeat, nobody saying much, the same things you saw when we…when we lost Fred."
Harry's eyes turned distant and sad at the memory of the lost Weasley twin, but he snapped back to his story before he could let the guilt and grief sink in. "Anyway, the day the letter arrived with the visual-conjuring spell for the arena, it was kind of both a life saver and deathbed all at once. None of us knew if you had even made it out of training alive, nonetheless what they might have put you through between that."
"You really think of me so incapable as to even make it out of their training sessions alive?" Hermione exclaimed, her eyebrows shooting up on her forehead as she gave him a look. "Not to be rude, but I find that rather insulting."
Harry winced but grinned nonetheless. "When we saw you out on the platform, it was really the do-or-die moment for all of us. Molly nearly sprained her ankle she jumped off the couch so quickly when she saw you made it out of the first bloodbath alive. It was about the same reaction with everyone else, and it was about the same with each of the tasks too. Except the last one, you know…"
His voice trailed off as he looked up at Hermione again. She twisted a lock of hair around her finger as she gestured for him to keep going, not in the mood to dwell on the final task of the Games.
Picking up on this, Harry went along. "It was a relief in itself just to see you getting along each day to a certain extent. Alive, a bit bruised here and there, but overall it seemed like you had everything under control. If I'm being completely honest here, Hermione, I'd say the hardest thing you had to handle other than tasks was probably handling Malfoy that entire time."
At the mention of her partner, Hermione refused to make eye contact with the boy sitting beside her. Twirling her hair faster around her finger as it tightened into a knotted mess, she found the tip of her finger turning white.
"You seemed to get along alright, though," Harry continued slowly. "You and Malfoy didn't kill each other in your sleep, and it didn't look like either of you were ready to tear the other's throat out every bloody minute you were in there."
"When exactly did that start?" he finally asked after a slight pause.
Hermione didn't answer right away, trying to come up with some response that would veer away from that part of the conversation she didn't know if she was ready to discuss. Her silence was all the answer Harry needed.
"I don't know," Hermine finally muttered, brushing a loose strand of hair out of his face. Harry closed his mouth again, on the verge of saying something, and the compelling want to know more in his eyes seemed to make the words tumble out one by one. "We obviously didn't like each other from the start. I'm sure you already knew that was a given. I guess after the manticore it just seemed to dawn on me that it was just me and Draco - ?"
"Draco?" Harry interrupted, raising a brow in her direction. Hermione scowled and rolled her eyes, earning a light smirk from Harry. She had never used his first name around her friends in the past unless it was from some means of insult. Now, seeing as Harry suspected them as friends (though the glint in his eyes hinted at more), she couldn't help but roll her eyes at his amused expression.
"Yes I believe that's his name," Hermione nearly spat through gritted teeth. Huffing with slight annoyance at Harry's sudden interest, she crossed her legs in front of her and finally found the courage to look up at him. "After the manticore, me and Draco seemed to realize we were the only ones the other could rely on in the Games. I had considered going out to find Gabrielle, but he didn't seem keen on the idea. To be completely honest, it might have been better that we didn't go out looking for her. In the end, it would have come down to something a lot worse…"
Shuddering at the mere idea that the rules clearly stated only tributes from the same country could remain standing victors, Hermione continued. "After that, I guess we began to tolerate each other more often than not, rather than bickering over everything. He could talk to me about things from school, and I could talk to him about things during the war. There were obviously a few parts neither of us enjoyed or ever really did mention."
Hermione absentmindedly ran her fingers over her left forearm, the bumps of her scar reading "Mudblood" still clear as day to anyone who might just look towards her wrist.
"I'm guessing you saw his dream?" Hermione asked quietly. She had thought about their encounter after the fog for some time, but realization hit her only recently that while the matter still remained semi-private between them, it had been up for grabs for the entire public to see.
"I think everyone else did too," Harry responded. He took a moment before continuing, "It seems to be a pretty touchy subject."
Hermione barely held back a snort. "Touchy isn't exactly the word I'd use."
Harry nodded in agreement. "Did he tell you he saw you in there, too?"
She nodded, finally averting her gaze back to the covers of her bed. "He told me everything, actually."
Harry frowned, his brow creasing as he seemed to be debating whether or not to say his next thought. Hermione beat him to it.
"I know you don't like him, Harry," she started. "I know you, along with Ron and the Weasley's and every other Gryffindor we know have a bit of history with him or his family. I know he was a Death Eater, and I know there are things that might never be able to stay in the past between the two of you."
Hermione tore her gaze away from her hospital bed and looked into the eyes of her best friend, his expression completely unreadable. "But would you be willing to trust me if I told you that I've seen him change? He's made mistakes and he was forced onto a side that he had no choice in. He's opened up to me about things that he wished were different, and changed the ways that he made both during and after school. I won't sit here and try and tell you he wasn't a bloody prat in school sometimes, with an ego the size of Hogwarts he somehow manages to keep intact. But some of the decisions he made were ones he honestly had no choice in. If you don't think you'll be able to fully forgive him, Harry, the only thing I'm asking is that you give him a chance. And if not that, then can you try and trust me with the chance that I gave him?"
Harry didn't say anything. He stared back into what felt like her very soul, his green eyes scanning for something in her own. She held her breath as she waited for his answer, keeping her head held high and her gaze on his firm.
Releasing a heavy breath, Harry closed his eyes and shook his head. For a second, Hermione was worried she had just given a speech only to lose her best friend in the process. It was only when she saw the hint of a smile grace his lips did a flicker of hope light inside her chest.
"Of all the people in the world to ask me to give the Draco Malfoy a second chance, the last person I would expect to be is you, Hermione," he chuckled to himself, pushing his glasses back up onto his nose. "But at the same time, it feels like you would also be the very one to do so."
Hermione couldn't help but smile at what she figured was supposed to be a compliment. "I know you don't really like him Harry, and I know for certain it won't be easy, but if you could try to at least see some side of him that isn't all his mangy-ferret self, you could become frie - well - scratch that, try civilized people as a start."
Harry nodded his head in agreement and pulled Hermione in for a hug, wrapping his arm around her shoulder and pulling her in towards his chest. With the awkward angle they were at, Hermione couldn't see his face, but from what she could just sense after years of knowing her best friend, she couldn't help but wonder why he had some sort of silly smirk across his face.
Just as quickly as the thought had come, a firm knock on the door sent the two springing apart. No sooner had she grabbed her blanket and pulled it up towards her chest did the door swing open and a guard stepped through the opening, his silver mask glistening in the last flecks of the setting sun.
"The visiting hour is up. The Mudblood needs to get ready. Out." He pointed at Harry and flung his thumb over his shoulder just as he threw a pair of clothes on the floor in front of the doorway.
"Don't call her th - "
"I didn't ask for your opinion, oh mighty 'Chosen One'," the Death Eater mocked, his voice dripping with sarcasm. Hermione's one moment of peace with Harry was snatched away once again, and she could already feel her annoyance bubbling towards the surface.
With a low growl she could barely hear, Harry hoisted himself to his feet and looked ready to march up to the guard and give him a good hexing jinx that would leave him whimpering like a sad puppy. Before he managed, though, he turned towards Hermione one last time and sent her an easy grin. She could tell it was strained, and the feeling of the pair of beady eyes boring into the back of Harry's head didn't seem to help much.
Harry turned on his heel and stalked past the Death Eater, throwing in an extra glare along the way. Her guard didn't seem bothered in the least, if anything stood taller with a sense of pride knowing he had talked down to the famous Harry Potter.
Hermione let out her own growl of frustration as she slipped out from underneath the covers and marched up to grab her clothing. Just as the Death Eater let out a low chuckle, she grabbed the handle to the large oak doors, and with the sweetest smile she could, slammed the door in her guard's face just as he lent in to add something to his previous statement regarding the changing Mudblood.
It brought her an odd satisfaction to hear the crunch of his nose and the wail of pain that followed. His curses were quickly muffled as she stalked over to her nightstand and sent a quick and simple silencing charm towards the entryway.
The blue aster Mrs. Weasley had given to her the day of the Reaping caught her eye as she slipped on the simple dress and cover-up provided to her by the Ministry. It was now nestled on top of her bag of goodies beside her things, its soft petals sinking into the red cloth covering up a bundle of muffins and cookies. Reaching down to pick it up, Hermione twirled it between her finger tips before nestling the flower into the front pocket of her jacket for all the Wizarding World to see.
Hey y'all!
Chapter 17 is up and ready for you guys, and be sure to check in for chapter 18, aka the finale!
And, as always, have a marvelous morning, afternoon, evening, or night!
-Summerwinds