Songs - Another Sad Love Song by Khalid, Heat Waves by Glass Animals, and You should be sad by Halsey

Chapter Eight: The Weasel

Hermione watched through the kitchen window as Draco ran around outside with an overly energetic James, her heart skipping a beat as he scooped the young boy up and lifted him onto his shoulders.

"Draco! How fast can you run over there?" James yelled excitedly, pointing somewhere away from the house.

She heard Draco telling him to hold on tight before taking off at a sprint toward the edge of the backyard, the young boy's giggles filling the air.

"I really should get that child in bed," Ginny sighed from her position somewhere behind Hermione.

"Which one?" Hermione asked, turning toward her friend, a smile spread across her face.

Ginny laughed before turning back toward the stove to mix a simmering pot of sauce.

Knowing it was futile to try to hide anything from Ginny, especially since keeping secrets from her wasn't exactly Harry's strong point, Hermione had decided to owl her before dinner to tell her about Draco. It was certainly easier than having her figure it out in the middle of dessert and making it awkward for everyone. And to Ginny's credit, she hadn't been all that surprised – and only a little angry that Harry had found out before her – insisting that Hermione should have, in her own words, gotten Draco in bed sooner.

"He's a good man, you know," Ginny offered, waving her wand to move ingredients to a pan on the stove. "Not many people would run around entertaining someone else's demonic offspring," she added, gesturing outside.

"I know," Hermione responded, her hands closed around a warm cup of tea. "It's just- well, things have happened fast."

Fast was an understatement. Sure, they had known each other since they were eleven, but they spent most of that time hating each other, him an heir to an immense pureblood fortune and her the muggle-born member of the Golden Trio. Even after Draco had re-emerged in the wizarding world and became an Auror, she had seen very little of him, assuming, even despite Harry's insistence otherwise, that he hadn't really changed. It wasn't until she had woken up in his bed, hungover from a night of bad decisions, that he crept back into her life, and they had been doing whatever they were doing, and feeling whatever they were feeling, practically ever since.

Ginny nodded in understanding. "Doesn't mean it's not right, though," she asserted. "I think you two are good together." She wiped her hands on her apron and walked over to stand next to Hermione. "Plus, you were in desperate need of a good shag."

"Ginny!"

"What!?" Ginny said, throwing her hands in the air. "Is he as good in bed as he looks like he would be?" she asked, not even attempting to hide the mischievous look on her face.

"You do remember you're married to Harry, right?" Hermione responded, raising an eyebrow.

"Not the point," Ginny said with a shrug. "I'm pregnant and horny and deserve to know everything."

Well it's not like she won't bug me until she gets the answer she wants anyways, Hermione thought.

"Fine. Yes, the sex is mind blowing."

Mind blowing didn't even begin to describe how amazing sex with Draco was, but she didn't know how else to describe it. His touch was electric, and no matter when or how their bodies brushed together, she felt like her heart might explode from the shock.

"That's all I get?" Ginny exclaimed. "I need details, Hermione. Details!"

"What details?" asked Harry as he came down the stairs and walked into the kitchen. "Albus is finally asleep," he added before kissing Ginny on the cheek.

"Oi, you ruined it!" Ginny said, playfully hitting Harry in his shoulder. "Hermione was just about to tell me how good Draco is in bed."

Harry turned a bright shade of red and groaned. "Oh, good god. Why am I not even the least bit surprised?" he mumbled, bringing his fingers to the bridge of his nose.

"Just, shoo!" Ginny said loudly. "James is outside with Draco, no doubt torturing him with one of the many games he's invented. Go make yourself useful."

Harry grumbled but obliged and quickly walked out the back door, leaving the two women to continue their conversation.

"So?" Ginny said, turning back toward Hermione after the door closed behind Harry.

"It's– he's intense," Hermione said, catching sight of Draco running past the window again with a screaming James still on his shoulders. "We can barely make it through the workday without jumping on each other."

More like she couldn't make it through the day without attacking him. Everything he did turned her on: the way he adjusted his reading glasses, the way he sat back in a chair when he was talking to her, and most definitely, the way he moved his wand between his fingers when he was thinking about something.

"Young love," Ginny said dreamily, tilting her head to study her friend. "I remember those days."

"I mean, I don't know about love, but–"

"Oh, come on Hermione. You look at him like a sick puppy," Ginny interrupted as she busied herself stirring the pot of sauce again. "If you aren't in love with him now, you can't be that far off."

"I– well, I suppose– maybe one day," Hermione muttered in response.

Love. It was a scary word for her. It had failed her so miserably once before, and she was thoroughly terrified to venture down that path again even though things felt entirely different this time around. She definitely didn't want to make a fool of herself by telling Draco she loved him before he was ready to take that step.

"Mhmm, sure. One day." Ginny rolled her eyes. "Now tell me. How big?" she asked as she put both of her hands out in front of her and began moving them a part.

Ginny's eyes widened when Hermione remained quiet (and the space between her hands reached a ridiculous large distance). "I am so not answering that!" Hermione giggled.

"Fine," Ginny huffed, placing her hands on her hips. "How often are you riding his mystery-sized wizard's staff?"

Hermione nearly choked on her tea. "Oh, seriously," she said after clearing her throat. "You are relentless."

"Don't care," Ginny retorted quickly. "You refused to answer the other one, so this you have to tell me."

"Oh, alright," Hermione said, rolling her eyes. "Every day, sometimes more than once."

She didn't know where his stamina came from, or hers for that matter, but she definitely wasn't complaining. There had only been one night where they fell into bed together and were too tired to rip each other's clothes off, and that had been yesterday after they had already made good use of the stacks in the Ministry Library.

"Any less and I'd be disappointed in you." Ginny smirked. "I'm happy for you. It's been a long time since someone meant something to you," she added softly.

"That's really more my fault than anyone else's," Hermione said quietly.

Another squeal punctuated their conversation, and the two women looked outside to see Harry and Draco tossing an overly excited James up in the air between them.

"It's okay to be vulnerable with someone," Ginny said, putting her hand on her friend's shoulder. "Not everyone means you harm."

"I know," Hermione responded, unable to tear her eyes away from Draco. "I told him about Ron," she confessed.

"Wow," Ginny replied, the surprise obvious in her voice. "That's huge for you."

"We ran into him and Pansy last week at dinner," Hermione explained, smiling weakly. "I didn't exactly handle it well, so Draco obviously knew something was wrong. I showed him some of my memories. Not all of them, but enough for him to grasp the situation."

"Well, he clearly didn't run away," Ginny said, gesturing outside.

"No, he didn't. He was definitely furious with Ron though," she paused, remembering how angry he had looked when he pulled away from her memories. "But instead of hunting him down, he stayed and comforted me... and then I may have attacked his lips with my lips."

Ginny laughed. "That's the Hermione I know and love."

Hermione inhaled deeply before continuing. "I know I'm being ridiculous, but sometimes I worry that I'm too attached to him, that I was so lonely before running into him that I'm trying to force something to happen between us."

"Do you honestly think anyone can force Malfoy to do anything he doesn't want to do?" Ginny asked with raised eyebrows.

Hermione shook her head. "No, I suppose not."

"Exactly," Ginny said, flicking her wand to calm a boiling pot of water. "There's no way he'd be spending all this time with you if you weren't important to him."

"Muuummm!" came a small voice from the back yard, interrupting their conversation.

The two women turned toward the back door and watched as James came running into the kitchen, his cheeks red from the cold, his hair as disheveled as his father's, and his small fist closed around a small four-leaf clover.

"Look at what I found!" James squeaked excitedly, waving his hand wildly in the air.

"Will you look at that!" Ginny exclaimed, picking him up and resting him on her hip.

Harry pushed open the back door and strode into the house, followed by Draco, whose own cheeks were flushed with color.

"Draco helped me," James said happily, "and he told me I could have all the luck!"

Hermione turned her head towards Draco and eyed him reverently. He was laughing about something with Harry, completely unaware of how James's story was making her heart pound furiously under her blouse, and she found herself, quite unexpectedly, wondering what it would be like to see Draco with a child of his own.

"We'll have to put this somewhere safe," she heard Ginny say as she continued to stare at him, unable to logic away the sudden flood of baby Draco images rushing into her mind.

"I think it's time for bed," Ginny said, setting James back on the ground. "Say goodnight to Aunt Hermione and Draco."

James hobbled over to Hermione, still holding onto his four-leaf clover tightly, and threw his hands above his head. She bent down and lifted him into her arms, giving him a hug.

"You," Hermione said, feigning serious effort, "are getting way too big."

"Am not!" he replied with a giggle.

"If you say so," Hermione said as she kissed his cheek.

"Night, night Auntie Mione," James said sleepily.

Hermione smiled as she gave him another squeeze. "Don't let the bed bugs bite."

"Will you keep my clover safe for me?" James asked as he rested his head on her shoulder.

"Of course," Hermione responded, taking the small leaf in her hand.

Draco walked over to Hermione, placing a hand on her back, and bent down to say goodnight to James before Ginny swooped over and carried him upstairs. Harry followed shortly after, leaving Hermione and Draco alone in the kitchen.

"He really is the spitting image of Harry," Hermione said as she watched the family disappear. She paused, moving the four-leaf clover to a small dish on the counter before turning to face the towering blond behind her who was still chuckling quietly at her statement.

"I didn't think I'd ever meet someone who'd give Harry a run for his money in the rule-breaking department, but that kid is going to be trouble," Draco said finally, shaking his head. "A Gryffindor through and through."

"Oh, please," she said, her eyes almost rolling to the back of her head. "There is no way Harry broke more school rules than you."

"Who me?" he said, pulling her into his arms. "I was a perfect angel."

"Mhmm," Hermione mumbled before placing a kiss at the corner of his mouth. "And I wasn't the nerdiest girl in school," she added, looking up at him longingly.

Their lips met softly as she pushed her body closer to his, her hands resting possessively against his chest.

"You, know. I'm glad you told Ginny," Draco said as he pulled away slightly. "Because now I can do this–" he paused to place another kiss on her lips "–whenever I want."

Hermione could only hum in response.

She felt so comfortable in his arms, as if he was a piece of her soul that she had been missing all along, and while that may have scared her a few weeks ago, now she couldn't get enough of his touch. Draco rested his chin on top of her head as she buried her face against his chest, inhaling his intoxicating scent. Perhaps Ginny's right, she thought as she closed her eyes.

"Oi, you two better be decent," Harry called from the top of the stairs.

"And if we're not?" Draco retorted, his snigger vibrating against Hermione's body.

She could hear Harry's footsteps grow louder as he approached, and she reluctantly pulled away from Draco's embrace moments before Harry came into view again.

"Then that'll be twice in two days that I'll have needed to scrub my eyes with soap to rid myself of that image," Harry said as he entered the kitchen.

Draco laughed. "Good one, Potter," he said as he leaned back against the counter behind him, his eyes only momentarily leaving Hermione's face. "And to think, it only took you a decade to up your banter game."

Harry waved his hand dismissively in the air. "I'm brilliant at it, and you know it."

"Git."

"Twat."

"Men," Hermione whispered under her breath as she shook her head.

It was strange to see Harry and Draco being so friendly (and happily bickering for Merlin's sake), but then again, it really wasn't surprising at all. Even when they had been enemies in school, Hermione had always thought they were more alike than either of them would have been willing to admit. In a different world, they probably would have grown up as friends, maybe even ended up in the same house at Hogwarts. Perhaps that's why it was so easy for them to move beyond their less – much less – than perfect past and become friends after Harry convinced Draco to become an Auror.

"I give it 20 minutes before James finds his way back down here," Ginny said as she re-emerged in the kitchen. "Ahh, the pasta is almost ready," she added as she inspected the food on the stove.

"I'll help you set the table," Hermione said, pulling her wand out of her pocket. She brushed past Draco on her way to the dining table, and blushed when she felt his fingers gently linger on hers.

Yes. Perhaps, I really do love him already...

Hermione couldn't stop smiling.

She was perched on the floor in between Draco's legs holding a glass of wine while he absentmindedly traced a line between her shoulder blades with one of his hands from his position behind her on the couch. Harry and Ginny were slumped comfortably in chairs on the other side of the living room, and Ginny's feet resting on the coffee table after having glared at her husband until he moved his own to give her more space. Everyone was laughing at the story Harry had just told about the time he had snuck a Box 'O' Rockets in Draco's book bag during their third year at Hogwarts.

"That was you!?" Draco exclaimed, cringing at the memory. "I sat in detention for weeks because of that."

"To be fair," Hermione inserted with a chuckle, "you definitely deserved it that year."

"As opposed to all the other years?" Draco asked, his fingers lingering on the back of her neck. "I'm honestly surprised it took Harry five years to try to murder me."

Despite the allusion to the Sectumsempra incident, both Draco and Harry laughed.

It had taken Draco years to be able to talk casually about that time in his life, when he had so foolishly taken the Dark Mark in a desperate attempt to save his family, but he no longer felt a pit in his stomach when he talked about it. While he would never forgive himself for everything he did, taking responsibility for his mistakes had done wonders for his anxiety.

Hermione and Ginny eyed each other momentarily, silently communicating their surprise at the two men's reactions as their laughter died down.

"Well if Harry had succeeded in turning into a blood-thirsty murderer, where do you think Hermione would be now?" Ginny queried, attempting to steer the conversation into more friendly waters.

"Probably in a library somewhere," Draco answered, his fingers playfully pinching the back of Hermione's neck.

"Ahh yes, and blissfully unaware that you ever existed," Hermione quipped, tilting her head back to stare into his eyes.

Draco smiled wickedly in response. "You'll pay for that later," he whispered.

Without warning – the new couple too distracted with each other to notice – the fireplace on the other side of the room turned bright green.

"Are we expecting–?" Ginny started, sitting up in her chair, confused.

"No," Harry said quickly, tightening his hand around his wand, his eyes fixed on the flames.

The tone of Harry's voice caught Draco's attention, and when he finally noticed the fireplace, his eyes narrowed in concern. He slipped his own wand out of his pocket, placing the other hand protectively on Hermione's shoulder. Harry and Draco barely had a moment to nod at each other in preparedness before a figure emerged from the flames.

Ginny's jaw dropped.

Hermione swallowed heavily.

Draco clenched his fists angrily.

Harry spoke first, lowering his wand to his side. "Ron?"

"Ronald Bilius, what in Godric's name are you doing here?" Ginny asked second, a hand over her heart.

"What can't a guy–" But Ron stopped when he finally looked around the room. "Oh..."

"Ron," Harry said quickly, his eyes darting over to Draco and Hermione. "Perhaps we should go outside."

"What is he doing here? With her!?" Ron asked angrily, gesturing toward Draco and Hermione.

Not that it mattered, and not that either of them particularly cared, but Ron's sudden arrival had left little time for Draco or Hermione to untangle themselves from each other.

"Good to see you too, Weasley," Draco managed as his hand squeezed reassuringly around Hermione's shoulder.

Except for Ron's heavy breathing, the room was silent.

But Ron didn't have to speak for everyone to know exactly what was coming next. His thoughts, as always, were written all over his body: his face was bright red, his shoulders were tensed, and his fist was clenched tightly around his wand – he was ready for a fight.

Harry, who had known his friend for long enough to know when he was about to make things exponentially worse, got out of his chair and moved towards him. "Ron. Outside. Now."

"NO!" He bellowed. "Why are they here… together? It's fucking Malfoy!"

Hermione felt Draco stiffen above her, and in an attempt to calm him, she reached over her shoulder to place a hand on top of his. Her heart was pounding, and she wished desperately she could just disappear, but it appeared Ron's presence was affecting Draco more than her, and a wave of protectiveness washed over her.

Don't listen to him, she wanted to say, squeezing his hand a bit harder when she couldn't dislodge the lump in her throat quickly enough to speak. She felt Draco's hand twitch in response before his thumb began move slowly as if to reassure her, and she relaxed slightly.

But suddenly, and to her complete horror, Ron took a step towards them.

"Ron. Now is not the time for this," Harry said, intersecting his friend's path and pushing him out of the room. "Ginny will never forgive you if you do this," he added under his breath. "Don't make this harder than it needs to be."

Ron's eyes were fixed on Draco, his body shaking in anger and disbelief. "Harry, he's fucking Death Eater!" he yelled, gesturing wildly. "I can't believe you would let him around your kids! Around her!"

Without thinking, Draco moved his hand from Hermione's shoulder and stood up.

"I don't think it's me people should be afraid of Weasley," he said, his anger, despite his attempts to keep it under control, clawing its way to the surface. Draco stalked over to Ron, stopping when their faces were merely a few inches away from each other. "I know what you did to her," he said, taunting him. "Don't think I won't hurt you if you come near her ever again."

Ron blinked, looking worriedly toward Hermione as she picked herself off the ground and crossed her arms across her chest, her wand concealed in the sleeve of her sweater. If Ron so much as laid a finger on Draco, she was going to make sure he paid for it.

"I don't know what–"

"You know exactly what I'm talking about, Weasley. The only reason I haven't laid a hand on you now is because of her," Draco said, pointing at Hermione.

"I– nothing–"

"Ron! Outside now!" Harry yelled moving in between the two men. "Draco, just leave it okay? I'll handle this," he added quietly, turning to face the blond.

Ron's eyes travelled back to Hermione, his lips parted in disbelief.

"Ron, go," Ginny commanded angrily, standing up from her own position across the room.

"Fine," Ron mumbled as he turned to head outside. Harry nodded at the other three before quickly following his old friend out of the room.

"I am going to kill him," Ginny said when the two men were gone, her face red. "Twat."

Hermione let out the breath she had been holding and moved her wand back into her pocket. Draco was still standing near the doorway, his fists clenched at his sides, and knowing he was upset, Hermione walked over and grabbed his hand.

"We should go," she said quietly, not sure if he could even heard her.

Draco didn't answer.

"Draco," Hermione said softly, maneuvering herself so she could look up into his stormy eyes. She had expected that seeing Ron again would cause her to spiral like last time, but for some reason, it wasn't as stressful this time around. The only thing she was worried about now was what Draco might do if they stayed any longer – or worse, if Ron came back into the house.

"Ginny," she said, turning her head. "Will you tell Harry goodbye for us? We really should get out of here before we make things worse."

"No," Draco said suddenly, his arms pushing her away from him he could look at her. "I think you should talk to him."

Hermione snapped her head back around unable to believe what she had just heard. The storm had lessened somewhat in his eyes, but despite being the one to utter the words, it was clear that he still wasn't entirely comfortable with the idea of her interacting with Ron.

"You want me to talk to Ron?" Hermione asked, confused.

"Don't you think it's a little overdo?" he responded as his eyes twitched nervously over hers. "I'll stay in here, but if he lays a hand on you–"

"He's my brother, but if he so much as threatens her I'll kill him before you do," Ginny interrupted, her face serious.

Hermione's mouth fell open as she looked back and forth between Draco and Hermione. "You are both nuts."

"Perhaps. But I agree with Draco," Ginny said more quietly. "You need to talk to him. It's the only way you'll be able to move past this."

"In case you haven't realized," Hermione nearly shouted, "I am handling this just fine, thank you very much."

Draco wrapped his arms around her and tilted his head down stopping only when his mouth was close to her ear. "Don't do it for him," he whispered, "do it for you."

Well, when he puts it like that…

Hermione sighed. "Fine," she relented, knowing that as much as she wished what they were saying didn't make sense they were right. This might be her only chance to get the closure she had needed for years.

She tilted her head back and looked up at Draco. "You won't leave, right?" she asked quietly.

"I'm not going anywhere," he replied before pulling her in for a kiss.

"Get a room," they heard Ginny mumble.

"I'll be right back," Hermione said quietly after pulling away.

As she walked to the back door, she realized she wasn't actually feeling quite as brave as she thought she was and had to fight the urge to run back into Draco's arms. Accepting what had happened between her and Ron was one thing, but actually talking to him about it was another. She paused at the door and inhaled deeply.

Here goes nothing, she thought as she pushed open the door.

Ron was pacing in front of Harry near the edge of the woods, his hands flying around his head wildly as he spoke. Hermione couldn't make out exactly what he was saying, but she got the gist.

She made her way slowly across the lawn, stopping when she was a few feet away from the two men.

"Harry," she said quietly, startling both of them. "I'd like to speak to Ron. Alone."

The color drained from Ron's face, and Harry looked at her inquisitively.

"Are you sure?" Harry asked.

"Yes," she responded. "Just give us a few minutes."

"Alright, I'll be right inside if you need me." Harry glared at Ron as if to tell him to behave and gave Hermione a small nod as he passed by her on the way back into the house.

"Ronald," Hermione said coolly.

"Hermione, I–"

"No. You're going to listen to me," she said as she put her hands on her hips. "You have absolutely no right to come in here, or anywhere else for that matter, and speak to me or others as if you've earned any say in what I do with my life."

"I–"

Hermione raised her hand to silence him. "You lost the right to be in my life the moment you threw me against that wall," she continued, her voice cracking with nerves. "I hope for Pansy's sake that you've gotten help. I hope that you don't make the same mistakes with her. No one deserves to be treated like that."

"I'm sorry," Ron said, his eyes filling with tears. "For everything. I know I fucked up. I know I did. But please, don't do this with Malfoy. He's not–"

"He's not what, Ronald?" Hermione interrupted angrily. "A good person?" She paused, closing her eyes in an attempt to calm her rapidly rising heartbeat. "You have no idea what kind of person he is. What kind of person he's become," she said a bit more quietly. "He's a better man than you."

The words left her mouth before she could stop them, but as harsh as they were, she wasn't sorry that she said them.

"You– you don't mean that," Ron said, his face contorted in pain.

"He's atoned for his sins," she said simply. "Have you?"

Ron didn't answer.

"What's happening between Draco and me is none of your business," Hermione continued. "I didn't come out here to talk to you about him, so if that's all you'd like to discuss then I will happily go back inside."

Ron pushed his fingers through his hair and looked at her with tears in his eyes.

"I really am sorry, Mione," he said after a few moments. "I was– am an alcoholic."

Brilliant deduction, Hermione thought, resisting the urge to roll her eyes.

"I– um– went to see a Mind Healer a few years after you left, after nearly drinking myself to death. That's where I met Pansy. She had been struggling too, with potions, and we sort of–"

"Ron, I don't need a play-by-play. I am very much aware that you're engaged to Pansy Parkinson."

"I'm sorry. I'm just– I don't know– trying to explain," Ron continued, his voice weak. "I thought alcohol was the answer to all of my problems, and for a while, it did numb the pain. All the times you begged me to get help, I just didn't want to believe I had a problem. If I hadn't gotten help when I did…" his body shuddered as he took a deep breath. "The Mind Healer helped me realize that I was drinking to avoid dealing with Fred's death, trying to forget what happened during the war. I had to face those demons before I could get clean, and by the time I did, I knew there was nothing I could do to fix what I did to you."

Hermione stared at Ron, her eyes stinging, as the words she had always wanted him to say came pouring out of his mouth.

"I know it's too late, but I'm so sorry for what I did to you. It makes me sick to my stomach just thinking about it. I was so horrible to you and– and I– fuck." Ron dropped his head to his hands and began to cry.

Hermione opened her mouth but realized there was nothing she could say to comfort him. As much as it pained her to see him like this, this was always going to be his burden to bear. She had tried to help him, she had tried to make him understand, and yet, he had still willingly allowed his addiction to destroy their life together, to turn him into the worst version of himself. She was done feeling sorry for herself, and she was definitely done worrying about him. Their life together was over – it had been for years.

After a few moments, Ron managed to lift his hand and look at her again. "I will never forgive myself for what I did to you."

"I forgive you," Hermione said, suddenly realizing that saying those words had been the only closure she needed all along. Ron's eyes widened in surprise. "I forgive you because if I didn't, I would never be able to move on with my life. I forgive you because I know you need it to move on too," she added.

"I– thank you," Ron croaked. "I don't deserve it but thank you."

Hermione stood there quietly for a moment while Ron wiped at his face with his sleeve.

"Goodbye, Ron," she said finally, knowing there wasn't much else she could say. "I really hope you find a way to be happy."

She didn't look back as walked away. She didn't, like she always thought she might, cry. Despite the years torment she felt after her and Ron's relationship fell apart, despite all of the horrible things she had felt about herself for letting things get as bad as they did, it was a relief to have finally shut that door. And by the time her hand closed around the cool metal of the doorknob that would let her back into the house, she only had one thing on her mind: the pale, platinum-haired man waiting for her inside.