Chapter 3 - Confessions

Hermione stretched back as she sat on her sofa. She was truly exhausted after her day at work. If she was being honest, she could've done with coming home to an empty flat, she was just so worn out and wanted nothing but to have a calming bath and go to sleep. But when she arrived, Draco had gotten there early and prepared dinner for her. Hermione had forgotten that she had granted him access to apparate in whenever he liked. And as much as Hermione appreciated the gesture, she just didn't have the energy, although she could never express this to Draco - even despite his improvement as a person he was still quite paranoid and defensive. Hermione felt guilty, he had spent time making her dinner, and she was actually rather disappointed that he did. She knew that these feelings were not the ones one should be feeling towards their partner, but she couldn't help it. Instead, she decided to brush it off, excuse it with her exhaustion. However, deep down she knew that her lack of energy had nothing to do with it.

"Draco? Everything alright?" She called from the living room as Draco collected the post her owl had delivered.

Draco eventually appeared back into the living room, but Hermione didn't need to be clever to tell something was slightly off. She sighed, she really didn't have the energy for this. Not tonight. "Everything's fine," he replied coolly, his voice was not quite cold, but definitely wasn't as warm as it had been when he offered to collect the letters. He sat beside her on the sofa yet seemed significantly further away than where he was before he got up.

"Are you sure?" Hermione asked, sitting up properly as she watched him nervously.

Draco didn't respond for a while. He sat staring but not seeing the rug on the floor. "Have-have you still not told anyone, Hermione?" he asked without looking at her.

Hermione immediately knew what he was referring to, she looked at the cushions guiltily. "Told anyone what?" she asked in a small voice.

"You know what." Draco snapped and he turned to look at her. "Why haven't you told anyone, Hermione? We've been together for three years."

She kept her focus on playing with the fray of her cushion. "Draco, it's-it's" she began, but she was quickly interrupted.

"It's what, Hermione? Not that easy? Too hard for you to say goodbye to the precious Weasleys? Or maybe you're just ashamed of me." He scowled.

"I am not ashamed of you, Draco!" Hermione responded incredulously as if she was offended by what he had asked her. She very intendedly ignored the rest of his outburst. Yes, it was too hard for her to say goodbye to the Weasleys. She knew they'd hate her, but they had been as good as her only family for years, excluding her parents. She never had siblings or cousins or anyone for that matter, but she had always had the Weasleys, ever since she attended Hogwarts, ever since she met him.

"Then why haven't you told anyone?" Draco persisted, forcing Hermione back to the situation.

She shifted nervously. "Draco, th-they were my family, I-" but once again she was cut off.

"For Merlin's sake, Hermione!" He shot up quickly. "It's been three years. Three years. You need to get over them. You need to get over him." He seemed to hesitate for a moment after splurting that last bit out, but he didn't go as far as trying to retract the statement.

Hermione looked up at him, horrified. There were a million things she would have liked to have said, but she felt too hurt. "I-I think you should go," she said, looking at the rug herself.

"Hermione, I-" Draco began but this time it was her turn to interrupt him.

"We've both had long days, we both ought to be exhausted. Just go, please".

Draco looked at her as if about to protest further but instead he left quickly, clearly he had decided to make a more dramatic exit as he used her apartment door to slam behind him instead of just disapparating while in the same room as her. Hermione sighed deeply and held her head in her hands that were supported by her knees. She couldn't keep having the same argument. Draco's consistent jealousy of Ro-, of him was becoming draining. And Hermione didn't need it. It was a constant reminder, every single time he mentioned his name or even made any sort of reference.

Up on his balcony, a place where he had spent most of his time since he had returned, a wistful looking Ron sat on a piece of outside furniture, a half drunk cup of coffee placed on the coffee table. Also on the coffee table, sat yet another letter from Harry. It had only been two days since Ron had confessed everything - including their break up, but Harry had already sent five letters, each asking how Ron was, each asking if he had spoken to his family yet. Neither question was easy to answer. So Ron didn't. He felt guilty, of course. Harry was his best friend, after all. But Ron had been alone for so long that having something as good as a best friend didn't seem to fulfill the hole in his heart.

He had been back for a whole seventy two hours now and he was still yet to talk to his family, or even show up for that matter. The only thing that kept his mind occupied was work. Ron had asked Kingsley on his first night, after Harry went home, if he could come straight back to work. Kingsley obliged, albeit begrudgingly; he thought that Ron needed some time off to heal after everything he saw and was faced with, especially fresh out of the academy. But Ron disagreed, he had to come back. He also knew he had to speak to his family, let them know of his return. It wasn't fair for Harry to have to keep that secret from his wife, but everytime Ron thought about going back to his childhood home, facing his parents, his mind trailed to the one person who he had thought of nearly every hour on his mission. And the thoughts of her were still breaking his heart, bit by bit, even to this day.

Hermione hobbled to the window sill, trying to put her shoe on properly. Cynthia, his owl, had yet another bouquet of flowers in her beak. Hermione sighed as she took the bunch of hydrangeas. Ever since Draco's little outburst from the other day, Hermione had now received three bouquets of flowers from him with some form of apology note tied to them. Waving her wand, a new vase summoned itself and she placed the flowers in it before adding water.

She knew she should forgive Draco, it really wasn't their worst argument but she had been so swamped at work at the moment with her new boss taking advantage of how hard she was willing to work, that she hadn't had time to do anything much for her personal life in the last few days, let alone speak with Draco. But this had gone on long enough. Reaching for the nearest quill she could find, Hermione jotted down a note to give Poppy to send back.

Draco,

Thank you for the beautiful flowers but they are hardly necessary. I don't expect an apology, I know that I have to talk to the Weasleys and especially Harry. I promise I will do it soon.

Love, Hermione.

Hermione sighed as she reread the note to ensure it was okay to be sent off. It was true, she needed to speak to the Weasleys. They didn't even know that she and Ro- that she and him had split up yet, let alone the fact that she was now with someone they would hardly approve of. But this had to be done now, he hadn't come back yet, this would be the best chance to do it before he made his return.

Smoothing down her dress, she glanced around her flat once before stepping into the fire which would take her to the Ministry. Grabbing some floo powder and her briefcase, she announced 'Ministry of Magic' and with a flash she was greeted with the sight of The Atrium.

Dropping off some documents for her assistant, Astoria, who was yet to come in - much like most people - Hermione made her way to her own office. Receiving a promotion which meant that she had her own office was like a dream to Hermione. For too long had she been drowning in the noise of people in other cubicles around her own. Sadness dawned on her as she remembered that what she had hated so much about the abstract noise was that they often spoke about the whereabouts of the Auror who had embarked on a mysterious mission, that same Auror happened to have ginger hair and an apparent permanent hold on Hermione's heart. Hermione closed her eyes with a sigh, how could he still be bothering her? Even at work? Something he had nothing to do with. How was he so easily able to infiltrate her mind when she hadn't even seen or spoken to him in three years? Hermione's internal struggles burst when someone knocked on her door suddenly. Gathering herself, Hermione straightened up before heading towards her office door.

"Hi, sir." Hermione said with as much enthusiasm as she could manage as she greeted her boss.

"Hermione, please call me 'Chase'. Her superior smiled at her, flashing his white teeth. Chase Gates was a lavish man, he always dressed very well and was able to fumigate any room he walked into with the strength of his aftershave. His dark hair complimented his darker eyes, many of the office women, and some men, gushed over how 'handsome' and 'sexy' he was. But Hermione would never partake in something so unprofessional. He was their boss and they should treat him with utmost respect instead of gossiping about how 'perfectly round' his bottom was or how other parts of his body were shaped, more particularly sized.

"Sorry, Chase." Hermione said uneasily.

Chase made his way into her office, heading towards the large window that looked over the city. "Wow." He admired."Your view is better than mine! I might have to start coming and working in here." He admitted with a wink.

Hermione chuckled uncomfortably, he often made flirty comments like this but Hermione just ignored it, no doubt in her mind that he was the same with everyone. "Is there anything I can do for you, Sir?" She asked, trying to suppress the impatience in her voice, but she had a mound of testimonies on tape to listen to.

"Stop calling me 'Sir' for starters." He said with a grin.

"Sorry." Hermione winced. "Force of habit."

"No worries. Listen, there's no way to say this that won't make it sound terribly embarrassing, but I have a sort of event that I attend every year as a Guest of Honor. It's a couple months away yet but I wondered if you'd think about accompanying me? As I said, it's a while away but it's kind of embarrassing if I show up to these things alone." Chase turned to Hermione, who looked quite taken aback.

Hermione was surprised at the least that he had asked her to such a personal event. Maybe she was jumping to conclusions, but she felt guilty at the thought of attending an event with another man. But she also knew if she said no then he could make her life very much hell. But what about Draco? Her mind kept nagging at her. Having to make a decision fast, Hermione concluded that she would make it very clear over the next few weeks that she was in a very serious relationship and wasn't about to ruin it. A small part of her heart didn't quite agree with the words 'very serious relationship' but Hermione bluntly ignored it and wished it would disappear.

"Uh - I, I'd love to." Hermione blurted out.

"Great." Chase grinned with his gleaming teeth. "See you later, Hermione." He said as he left the room. Hermione flopped into her office chair. This was not what she needed right now, or ever, to be honest. Draco would be so angry, she thought.

Ron sighed as he landed with a 'pop' onto the familiar and beloved lane that he hadn't touched in years. He looked around the expanse of evergreen, inhaling the beautiful country air that he had missed so much. He loved living in London, the business of the city was always so uplifting. But there wasn't anything quite as tranquilising as the stunning fields that rolled around The Burrow. The Burrow. Ron swallowed his nerves as he strode up towards the staggering house he was so happy to see was still there, still intact, the whole house looked calm, it made him smile.

His senses tingled as he smelt the unforgettable smell of his Mum's delicious cooking. He had missed it so much, he had missed them so much. He just hoped they missed him enough to not batter him as he made his way in through.

Tentatively raising his knuckle to the door, Ron paused briefly before rapping at it three times. He tensed as he heard footsteps approaching. "Who is it?" Ron's stomach turned as he heard his father's, albeit stern, voice through the door.

Ron cleared his throat. "It's me, Dad. Ron." He answered simply.

"Ron?" Mr Weasley's voice wavered. "Is it really you?"

"Well, if you actually opened the door, I reckon you cou-" But his witty comment was cut short as the door flew open, his mother bursting out of it, trapping Ron into a tight embrace.

"Ronald Weasley! Do you have any idea how much stress you put us through?" His mother cried. "Of course you do, my poor baby had to leave his whole family just for a mission." She countered herself, considerably softer. "I cannot believe you just left us, Ron!" His mum seemed to be battling with her own mind on whether or not she was happy to see him.

Ron chuckled. "I missed you, Mum."

"I missed you too." She squeezed him before retreating back, looking up to his face. "Let's get you inside, I'll put the kettle on. Is Hermione not with you?" She asked casually.

Ron felt a breath catch in his throat. The normality of her tone as she asked the question just proved how badly he needed to tell them. "Ron?" Mrs Weasley called from the kitchen as he stood frozen in the door.

"Sorry, Mum." Ron muttered as he made his way into the house and sat on the long kitchen table that he hadn't seen in years.

Mrs Weasley eagerly put down three mugs of tea and sat opposite Ron, beaming at him, making him feel uneasy and apprehensive about what he was about to confess. "So, tell us everything, then!" His mother exclaimed.

Ron gave a rendered version of events, choosing to leave out parts that he knew his mother would probably cry at or cause her to march up to the Ministry and demand that he no longer worked as an Auror. He especially didn't mention the part where he killed someone.

"Oh my, Ron. You are so brave!" Mrs Weasley cried with her hands to her chest.

"We are extremely proud, son." Mr Weasley clapped Ron on the back. Ron's stomach lurched at the word 'proud', he knew that the moment he told them about him and Hermione that that would be the last emotion they'd feel towards him.

"Are you alright, dear?" Mrs Weasley asked concernedly as she watched her son nearly wince at Arthur's touch.

"Yes, Mum. Sorry. I just need to tell you something else… and you won't be happy." Ron stated as he met his mother's gaze briefly.

"What is it?" She asked cautiously as he stared into the tea in front of him.

"It's H-Hermione." He hadn't said her name aloud in such a while that it brought an ache to his heart once he did.

Mrs Weasley gasped, "is she okay? What's happened?"

"She's fine, Mum." As far as he knew, anyway. "It's about...about us. We sort of… we're not together anymore." Ron blurted out finally, still not looking into the eyes of his mum.

"What?" Mrs Weasley asked, shockstricken. "Don't be silly, Ron, of course you are! You've just been away for a while but Hermione waited for you." Her dismissive tone made Ron sigh, this was going to be more difficult than he anticipated.

"No, she hasn't, Mum." He said through nearly gritted teeth.

"Of course she has!" Mrs Weasley argued.

"Mum! She hasn't. She hasn't because I told her not to, we split up before I left." There it was, out in the open. Mrs Weasley was speechless, her expression shocked. She watched her son, her changed son from across the table. She knew something wasn't right the moment he hesitantly walked through the door of The Burrow. What was wrong, however, Mrs Weasley couldn't be sure. But now she knew.

"Well, I'm sure if you just go and speak to her now you're back then you could-"

Ron gave a mirthless chuckle. "Mum, we split up for a reason. That had nothing to do with whether or not I embarked on this mission." He lied.

Mrs Weasley's eyebrows dropped with her expression. She looked hurt by his words. "W-what?"

"I should go." Ron sighed as he stood from the table, carrying the untouched tea to the sink and letting it pour down the sinkhole. "Thanks for the tea." He added dryly as he walked towards the door.

"Ron!" Mrs Weasley tried to stop him. "Why on earth would you break up? Did you argue or something?" She probed.

Ron sighed again as he stared unseeingly at the floor. "Look, Mum, it doesn't matter. It was three sodding years ago. But-" he let out another sigh before continuing. "-don't blame her, it wasn't her choice." And with that Ron opened the door into the windy night, leaving his parents dumbfounded as they watched him walk up the lane and pop away.