"I just don't want you to feel, you know, awkward."
What a good man. What a wonderful, considerate fucking gentleman Ronald Weasley was.
Hermione sipped her tea carefully, letting it burn her tongue lest she let it say something she knew she'd regret.
While to their friends and family the breakup was mutual, it was decidedly not. In fact it was completely one sided, on his side. But, in the interest of amicability, Hermione had let him respond to any inquiry with "it was a mutual decision", "still friends", "wish the best for each other."
In reality, they hadn't spoken for weeks. Ever since Ron had stepped through the floo of their shared flat and announced that he felt as though they had lost the connection that had brought them together in the first place. Apparently, not living in a tent in the middle of the woods being chased by madmen really changes your relationship dynamic.
Hermione had moved through the first few steps of the breakup grief pretty quickly. She had stood there, her mouth opened as Ron listed off the (evidently many) reasons they did not belong together.
She laughed when he had finished, instructing him stop being daft and to wash up for dinner. And when he remained still in the entrance of the fireplace, the flat became a flurry of thrown clothes and strings of expletives. Some of which Hermione made up. None of the words seemed to fit how truly despicable she found Ronald Weasley at that moment.
He had calmly collected his belongings from the floor and stepped through the floo, calling out "The Burrow" and giving his now ex-girlfriend a sad, pitying look. Hermione thought it was more a pity that he was gone by the time the trinket she threw shattered in the fireplace where his head would have been.
The depression came after the madness. The crying, the sniffling, the screams into the pillow. Hermione had never thought herself to be one of those girls. The one whose lives were inexplicably ruined by a breakup like she had read in romance books when she was younger. She had laughed at them, at the female character's pain from the loss, because Hermione was so much stronger than that. She would never let a man make her feel pathetic or insecure.
But now she understood. They didn't feel pathetic or insecure. They felt hurt and betrayed.
She and Ron were a forever kind of couple. Like Molly and Arthur or Ginny and Harry. They had been through everything together, no one else in the world could understand the loss and pain they shared. The people they loved that they lost. They knew all there was to know about one another.
Hermione was always a planner, ever since she could first read a calendar she had her times and priorities mapped out. It was how she excelled in school, it was how she kept herself sane. And she had a plan. She would work her way up to a supervisor of the Department for the Regulation and Control of Magical Creatures. Before she was 30, she and Ron would marry then and have perhaps one or two well-behaved children, before becoming the youngest Minister in history just as their children were entering Hogwarts.
And now that was ruined, shattered in pieces in her fireplace and strewn about the floor with his clothes.
She had spent the weekend that way; rotating between the refrigerator, the couch, and the bed. Sleeping, eating, crying, repeating.
By the time Monday morning had rolled around, she was the physical embodiment of a mess; matted curls hidden in a bun to be dealt with later, dark circles, and permanently glassy eyes.
If there was a God, he would have had mercy on her that day of all days. Perhaps given her a short line at the coffee station or an easy elevator ride to her department floor or, blessedly, a day without a run-in with Malfoy.
Instead, between the seemingly longer line and the packed elevators Hermione was late for the first time to work ever. And of course Malfoy would notice, lounging in her office chair as she arrived and twiddling his thumbs.
"You're late."
"And your perception skills are impeccable, as always."
Malfoy's eyes flickered down to her empty hands, "No coffee today?"
"Line was too long," she sighed, throwing her bag onto the desk in front of him and beginning to unpack: ignoring his presence in her chair as she worked around him. "Somehow the Ministry can't shell out a few extra galleons for another coffee stand, but Merlin forbid we don't have another marble statue carved for the foyer. If I stayed in the line any longer I would have been inexcusably late."
Malfoy assessed her quietly as she worked in front of him, "You should have just stayed in line. It seems like you need it, you look like shit."
"Malfoy," Hermione sighed, giving him an exasperated look, "as much as I love our banter, really I do, I just don't have the energy today. Do you mind?"
She attempted to focus on her work, but felt his eyes remain fixed on her. "What happened?"
"It's none of your business." she hummed, signing off on another document before Draco plucked the quill out of her hands.
"Technically whatever it was made you late, and therefore affected the timing of my morning, so the least you could do is humor me."
Hermione aggressively grabbed the writing instrument back, "If you must know…" she trailed off and swallowed thickly. "If you must know, Ronald and I broke up this past weekend."
Malfoy was silent and Hermione did everything to avoid meeting his eyes, which would surely be mocking.
"Oh, thank Merlin."
Hermione rolled her eyes. As sad as she was the past few days, it was refreshing to feel something else, even if it was irritation for the man in front of her.
"Malfoy-"
"I was beginning to insult your intelligence. I'm glad to see you've found some sense-"
"He dumped me."
Draco blinked. Hermione took a little pleasure in rendering him speechless, but the feeling was quickly squashed by the awkwardness of the silence between them.
He cleared his throat loudly, "Well, this has been nice. I'm going to go."
He hopped up from her chair and sauntered to the office door. Hermione blew a piece of hair out of her face. At least she would be getting some peace and quiet now.
An hour later, after a short bathroom break, Hermione returned to her office and spotted a steaming cup of coffee on her desk. Cautiously taking a sip, she smiled softly.
Malfoy always made the best coffee, exactly the way she liked it. He did have his moments.
And working with Malfoy did have its moments. He was sharp and quick witted, Hermione never had to explain her ideas further as he tended to always understand her. And as much as he was still a prat, there were moments Hermione couldn't help but feel a certain friendly affection for him.
He was certainly handsome, anyone would be lying to say otherwise. Not only did he have conventionally attractive features: tall, broad shouldered, wispy blonde hair. But he had other, unique features that made you want to stare longer. The other ladies in the office would blush at any brush of fingers during a file transfer or a superficial, flirtatious joke he would make.
But between Hermione's relationship with Ron and Draco's with Astoria Greengrass, who he had become betrothed to after Hogwarts; there was no reason for her to dwell on that fact.
"Hermione?"
Oh, right. Christmas. Awkward. Hermione blinked at Ron's concerned face sitting across from her at their shared, or used to be shared, dining table. "It wouldn't be awkward."
After that morning with Draco and the coffee, once the caffeine had knocked some sort of sense into her, she vowed to ignore Ronald Wealsey all together. She sent his things via floo and locked the connection, sent back all his letters, and ignored his attempts to contact her.
It wasn't until Ginny had written to her a few days earlier and urged her to meet with Ron, "I can't say much but it's important", did she finally return his owl.
It had now been exactly 5 weeks since their split and the moment Ron stepped through the fireplace, Hermione felt like nothing had changed. Except when she reached out to embrace him, even as a friend would really, he held up his hands to keep her back, "We shouldn't."
Right. Because everything had changed.
They sat at the table, waiting patiently for the kettle to boil while Ron twitched nervously in his chair.
"Is something the matter?" Hermione asked.
It was like a flood gate, "I've started to see someone and I know the hols are coming up and I want to bring her to the Burrow to meet everyone and I know even if we're broken up you're still absolutely welcome but I needed to tell you because if you'd feel too weird about it then-"
Hermione's breathing seemed to stop. She forgot how to swallow. Already?
She was still pressing his old sleep shirt to her face to sleep and he had already started seeing someone who he wanted to bring to the Weasley holiday celebration to meet everyone? She felt sick.
Instead, she stuck a plastic smile on her face, one that hurt her cheeks, "That's great, Ron."
He paused in his ramblings, "Huh?"
"I think that's great you found someone, it's wonderful actually."
"Really?" he asked skeptically.
"Yes, absolutely." Hermione stood suddenly at the sound of the kettle whistling and poured them both a cup, her knuckles white on the handle.
"I just don't want you to feel, you know, awkward."
"I wouldn't be awkward."
He gave her an uncertain, pitying look. Hermione wanted to smack him. Smack him and kiss him and beg him to come back home. She didn't need his pity, she didn't want it. In fact-
"I'm not sure-"
"Actually," Hermione interrupted, "I'm so glad because… because I've been seeing someone too and I was going to ask how you'd feel about me bringing them to the Burrow."
Ron's jaw dropped and Hermione's fingers tingled. Take that, Ron.
" Who?" He shouted, bewildered.
She hadn't thought that far ahead. Fuck, uh-
"I can't tell you yet, we're- we're keeping it private for now."
" Private," Ron snorted. "Private but you want to bring him to the family celebration."
"You're one to talk," she hissed back. "Who's this stranger you're planning on bringing?"
"You know her- Astoria Greengrass."
Neville wouldn't do. That boy couldn't keep a secret worth his life and they all knew it. If he and Hermione had started dating, it wouldn't have been a secret.
Dean was too close with Ron to agree to lie about a fake relationship with his ex-girlfriend.
Seamus was as gay as the days were long.
She could ask Ernie, but they barely knew each other. It would not be the most convincing performance.
Hermione sighed, crossing off the last name on her list and throwing her head against her desk. She had to leave for the Weasley's in less than 48 hours and she had no plan. Perhaps she should just take the loss and humiliation of not showing up all together.
She was coming up with different excuses when Malfoy walked through the office door, without knocking.
"Privacy is a virtue, Malfoy."
"You know Granger," he dramatically plopped into the seat in front of her and stretched out his legs. "After so many years working together I thought we'd moved past knocking and closed doors."
Hermione rolled her eyes. "What if I was in the middle of something I didn't want you to see?"
Draco chuckled. A husky sound that would have made a lesser witch wet their knickers. "Anything I'd want to see?"
"Vile. Truly vile."
He shrugged, throwing a pile of papers onto her desk, "I need these signed before lunch so I can deliver them to Mr. Burk."
"Fine, fine," she sighed, beginning to pen her name on the papers while Malfoy fiddled with the different objects on her desk. She assessed him carefully, "Malfoy, I didn't know you and Astoria had split."
He raised his eyes and quirked an eyebrow, "I didn't know you cared, Granger."
"Well I was expecting some extravagant Malfoy wedding, no expense spared. An open bar. Single, rich wizards."
Draco snickered, rolling an hourglass in his hands and watching the sands fall back and forth. "I'm deeply sorry my ruined nuptials interfered with your plan to seduce wealthy men. How'd you find out anyways?"
"You really want to know?"
Draco sighed, "Don't make me beg because I won't."
"I had a visitor last night. Ronald came to tell me that not only did he move on in record speed, but that he was bringing her to the Weasley's holiday celebration and that I might want to reconsider going. And guess who this new girl is?"
Hermione waited for him to explode the way she had when Ron left that night, but was shocked when he gasped and laughed loudly. "Get the fuck out of here. Are you joking? Oh Merlin that's good. That's too good."
"You're not angry?"
"Am I angry that my cunt of an ex has moved on from me, the most eligible bachelor in the entire UK wizarding world, maybe even the entire UK, to Ronald Weasley who-"
"Watch your words, Malfoy," she warned, giving him a pointed look. She still felt protective over him, even if whatever Malfoy was going to say would technically be right.
"No, Granger, I'm not mad. I'm thrilled, honestly. Let her be miserable," he shrugged. "You shouldn't care either. It shows what kind of man he is to choose her over you."
"Careful, that might sound like a compliment."
"My reputation will survive. Anyways, what will you do now for Christmas?"
"What do you mean?"
"You just said-"
"Yes, but I'm still going," Hermione responded haughtily, "I'm not going to miss out on an important tradition because of Ron's rebound."
"Let me get this straight," Draco began carefully, leaning forward in his chair. "You're going to go to Weasel's family's house, alone, while he cuddles up with Astoria Greengrass? And somehow that's better for your pride than just not going?"
"No, I-" Hermione blushed. "Nevermind."
"What?"
"I… I sort of, I mean, I told him that I would be bringing someone too…"
"You didn't," he gasped, scandalized, "who are you going to bring?"
Hermione slid the list of names across the table, full of scribbles, "Evidently, no one."
Draco hummed, looking over the list with furrowed brows. Hermione watched him carefully. He was handsome. Smart, too. He was the one person Ron hated more than anyone. And he had a personal stake in this as well.
Above that, it would be a real kick in the face to Ron to see that Draco Malfoy, the most eligible bachelor in the entire UK wizarding world (and maybe the entire UK) wanted her. It would surely make him see his mistake.
"Hey, Malfoy, what are you doing for Christmas?"
Draco didn't look up from the paper and snorted, "With a dead mother and an imprisoned father? What do you think- No, absolutely not."
"What?"
"I know what you're thinking and no. No, no, no."
Hermione stuck out her bottom lip, "Come on, Malfoy. Get in the giving spirit. You're not doing anything anyway and I know you always love a chance to pull one over on Ron. And- And rub it in the face of your ex. I won't ask for anything else for Christmas from you, please?"
"Don't give me that look," Draco covered his eyes with his palms. "I hate when you do that, my mother used to do that. I wasn't even going to get you anything for Christmas."
"And now you don't have to! Please. It would…" she trailed off and Draco finally uncovered his eyes. She gave him the most pitiful look she could muster, "It would mean a lot to me."
Draco bit the inside of his cheek, narrowing his eyes at her, "I won't wear one of those stupid sweaters. I've seen them and I hate them. I don't care what you have to do, I will not be wearing one."
Hermione sighed in relief, "So…"
He rolled his eyes. "I'll start packing tonight."