"It was consequently necessary to name some other period for the commencement of actual felicity; to have some other point on which her wishes and hopes might be fixed, and by again enjoying the pleasure of anticipation, console herself for the present"
Hermione pushed her food around on her plate until she caught Molly Weasley giving her a look. She flushed and took a large bite, hoping to appease her hostess, but not expecting to enjoy it — most food was still dust in her mouth these days. But she shouldn't have underestimated Molly's culinary skill. The roast was actually heavenly and she savoured it, then devoured the rest of her portion.
"It's good to see you here again, dear," Molly said with rare softness, as she placed more of the tender meat on Hermione's plate.
Hermione had skipped the last two Sunday lunches due to being 'busy with work' but in actuality because she hadn't been feeling social. But today was a special occasion.
"I wouldn't have missed it." She smiled at Molly and then looked down the table. "It's not often that I get to see two of my favorite people in the world." Her smile widened as her eyes focused on Charlie Weasley and his fiancé, Hamish Gardiner, who were making a long visit from their home in Romania.
Charlie lifted his chin and smiled back at her, while Hamish blew a kiss. "It's so good to see you too, darling. It's been far too long."
Hermione accepted the goodwill, feeling lighter than she had in weeks. Despite them living so far away and not seeing them very regularly, she still counted Charlie and Hamish as two of her closest friends. A work trip to Romania two years ago to study Charlie's dragons had started it. She and Charlie had become close — his mix of Ginny's playfulness and Arthur's gentleness drawing her in almost immediately. And she'd been there the night he met Hamish — then been witness to, and enthusiastic supporter of, their storybook romance — which had resulted in a mutual proposal last summer. The two men were very different, but she loved each of them.
When she'd gotten word last week they were coming, and for an extended stay, she'd felt like she finally had something to look forward to. A small speck of light to break through the general gloom that had been consuming her. And now they were here.
She caught Charlie's eyes on her and smiled again. His eyes warmed on her, but she noted concern in his face too. Was she that obvious?
"Ron, tell Charlie and Hamish about the scheme you're developing with Jack Wickham," Molly's voice cut through the general murmur of conversation around the table. "It's so exciting." She smiled at Ron, then glanced at the couple. "Jack is a top investor and he's asked Ron to partner him on an extremely lucrative project."
Harry and Ginny shot wary glances Hermione's way. They still hadn't hit on a good strategy for separating Ron from Wickham. And, as Ron launched into a proud recitation of the plan's vague outlines, it was clear that it would not be a simple task.
"Well I'm glad things are going well for you at least, Ronald," Mrs. Weasley's fond gaze on her youngest son lasered to Harry and her voice turned waspish, "Especially since Theodore Nott and that Draco Malfoy killed Harry's project."
Harry's face went a dull red and Ginny exclaimed, "Mum!" as Charlie asked what happened and Arthur made shushing noises.
"Well it's true. I don't even blame Nott. I'm sure it was Malfoy all along. He hates our family and the people we associate with." She nodded in Hermione's direction with pursed lips.
Hermione looked down at her plate, feeling lightheaded. She swallowed. Ginny was giving Charlie and Hamish a quick background, but Hermione felt like she was listening from far away.
When Ginny started to explain Theo's role in the 'death of the project', Harry talked over her. "Actually," he said quietly and Hermione could hear that he was facing her, although she still hadn't looked up. "I take a good bit of responsibility for what happened there." Hermione's gaze flew to his, as general protests erupted around the table. Harry silenced them and looked around. "No, no. I do. After the initial shock wore off and I was able to consider things more calmly, I went back through what Nott had shown me. And he was right. Everything he said was right. I still wish that he hadn't just withdrawn. I wish we could have worked through it together. But I understand his reservations better now. And I'm going to take another crack at the plan — try to iron some of them out. I'd appreciate your help, Bill."
Bill Weasley nodded and murmured his assent as Hermione caught Ginny's gaze. Gin gave her a slight nod too.
"Well," said Molly with a sniff. "I still don't like that Malfoy. And you can't tell me he didn't influence Theo to walk away from the scheme."
"He did no more than what any loyal friend would have done." No one was more surprised than Hermione to hear the low, angry words come out of her mouth. The table quieted and she felt 11 pairs of astonished eyes on her.
Total silence held the room for several beats.
Ginny cleared her throat. "It's true," she looked around the table. "Any one of us would have advised a friend to be cautious if we saw cause for worry." Harry agreed and eventually heads began nodding slowly.
Hermione released her breath in a silent whoosh and looked up to see Charlie's gaze on her again. He barely broke eye contact as he spoke to the table at large. "So, Gin. Tell us about the Harpies' chances on Sunday. I hear the Cannons' Seeker is a terror this year."
The subject change worked and the table was soon alive with a loud debate about the upcoming match. Hermione subsided into silence again, but saw a significant look pass between Hamish and Charlie before they both rested their eyes on her.
~oOo~
Hermione watched out the window at various Weasleys zipping around on brooms through the Burrow garden and meadow beyond. The discussion of next week's match had, as it often did, turned into a call for an impromptu scrimmage. Everyone had left the table in a simultaneous rush and stampeded outside to participate or spectate, but she had stayed in — taking the chance to be alone for a few minutes and nurse a coffee.
She heard a commotion behind her and turned to see Ron hurrying toward the back door, trying to pull a jumper over his head while holding a broom. He was failing at both, and the broom clattered to the floor.
"Here let me help you with that!" Hermione jumped up and righted the broom, then yanked the jumper into place.
"Thanks, Hermione," he said as she handed the broom up to him. Sometimes it still shocked her how tall Ron was. Maybe it was something to do with being childhood friends. They'd been the same height at one time. He looked at her for a moment and seemed on the verge of saying something, but then he just gave her a half smile and turned to go.
"Ron, wait," God, what was it with her voice saying things her brain hadn't sanctioned today? But he had already turned around and was looking at her questioningly. Hermione took a deep breath. She knew she needed to do this. If she was willing to defend Draco to the whole of the Weasley family at Sunday fucking lunch, then she should have the courage to talk to Ron about Wickham.
"I wanted to talk to you," she said.
"Ok, but I do want to get out to the pitch before they start…" He looked out the window, a crease appearing between his eyes.
"I wanted to talk to you about Jack Wickham," she continued. There, it was out.
His eyes flicked back to hers and the crease deepened. "What about?"
Great, he already sounded defensive. "I ...received some information about him. Credible information. I'm afraid he's not a good person. And he's had questionable financial dealings. I think you should withdraw your involvement with him and his scheme."
Ron's face turned hard. "Where did you get this information? What are the details? Who is the source?
Hermione flushed. She'd known this part would be difficult. "I can't share any of that, but I'm asking you to trust…"
Ron cut her off. "Because if the source is your ex-death eater, twat of a boyfriend, I'm not interested. Jack filled me in on all his dealings with him. No surprises there. Tracks completely with what I know of him. I'd say the only surprise is that we're having this conversation right now."
"Ron you know me. You know my judgement. I wouldn't tell you this if it weren't valid."
"Actually, Hermione. I don't feel like I know you at all anymore." Ron shook his head. His face showed brief concern, but then hardened again. "And after what I've heard of your 'judgement' over the last few months, I'm sure I don't trust that either." He turned to go, "And I'll thank you to stay out of my business going forward," he said over his shoulder as he stalked from the room.
Hermione flopped back on the couch. Well that had gone well. Shite. And now she was going to have to tell Harry and Ginny that she'd gone against their plan to wait and see and that it had backfired — just as they suspected it would. Nice one, Granger. But she did feel a tiny bit of relief that she'd spoken up. At least maybe Ron would be on the lookout now.
She closed her eyes and heaved a huge sigh.
"Well that was a world-weary sound if I've ever heard one." A playful voice made Hermione's eyes fly open again.
"Hamish!" The stocky, golden-haired wizard was stamping in from the outdoors, looking impeccable as always, in a tweed cap and a beautiful tartan scarf in soft mauves and greys.
"Hullo darling, I've come inside to join the Quidditch Indifference League. I really can't with these scrimmages. It's impossible to tell who is on what side or what's happening, and then they all fly over that rise in the back meadow and you can't see anything for ten minutes." He gave a delicate shudder.
Hermione was smiling by the end of his recitation. "Completely agree. And I'm glad you've joined me as I've just utterly cocked up a conversation with Ron and was beginning to sink into a depression."
"Oh? What about?"
"That plan he was on about at lunch. I think it's dodgy. But he doesn't want to listen."
"It sounded a bit, to be honest. Well, you were a good friend to try to warn him. But he's a grown adult. If he doesn't take your advice, there's not much more you can do."
His words seemed to lift a weight off Hermione's shoulders. Ron really wasn't her responsibility anymore, was he? "You're right. I don't know why it's so difficult to remember that sometimes — or why I still feel responsible in some odd way. I guess since we were so close at one time..." Hamish shook his head and gave a dismissive shrug and she took a deep breath. "But off with dreary topics! I want to hear how things are with you. Have you set a date for the wedding?"
"Noooo - you'd be the first to know. But we're being utterly lazy about it. I've always sort of fancied a long engagement anyway. There's something so romantic about being a fiancé," he said with a twinkle. "And things are fine. The dragons are fine. It's starting to get fucking cold in Romania. I'm not looking forward to another winter, but I'll lump it for my love."
"Yes that winter we spent was rather arctic," she said, "Thank Merlin for Țuică!"
He laughed, "Oh god. I barely touch that stuff anymore. The hangovers were so brutal. Although Charlie keeps making noises about wanting to start his own still."
"No! Just make sure he knows what he's doing. You can go blind if you don't make it properly!"
"Oh you know Chuck. He'll research it into the ground before he attempts anything."
Hermione nodded with a laugh. It was true. Charlie was incredibly careful and handy. If she trusted anyone with an illegal distillation operation, it would be him.
Hamish held her gaze for a beat and then tilted his head. His voice grew soft. "But enough about me, darling. How are you?" His face, usually mobile with humour, had gone very serious.
Hermione looked away. "Me? Oh I'm…" To her annoyance, she felt her eyes prick with tears. She fought them down and then shook her head. It was Hamish for Christ's sake. She let them go and felt wetness start down her cheeks, "I'm not great." Her words came out as a sort of half laugh, half sob.
He crossed to her quickly, sitting next to her on the couch and putting his arm around her shoulders. A snowy white handkerchief appeared in front of her face and she grasped it like a lifeline.
"Oh my poor dear."
Hermione snuffled. "Thank you."
"Tell me," he said. "What happened between you and Draco Malfoy?"
"What? How did you know?"
"Well the Weasley broadcasting service has been in full effect, so we heard an inkling - from Pen or Ginny - I don't remember which. But I wouldn't have needed the background. Your face and voice today when you defended him… What happened? Are you in love with him?"
The second question was asked so gently that Hermione couldn't dissimilate. "Yes," she sobbed. "But I fucked it all up. And I'm so unhappy now, Hamish. I can't snap out of it."
He comforted her again, making soothing noises until her tears subsided. "Would it help to tell me?"
"Maybe? Probably. Yes."
And it did. Finally talking to someone who didn't have an interest in, or wound from, what had happened. At the end he sat silently for several moments.
"What do you think?" she asked, a bit fearful of his response.
"I think you both acted like idiots." This was said with so much affection that Hermione smiled into the handkerchief. He continued. "I think that he's probably in love with you. But he needs to come to terms with that and what it means for his life. And you need to learn to trust him and recognize that you're going to have to do some work if you're going to be with him. Work that will, again, involve trusting him."
"You think he's in love with me too?" She felt stunned by the idea, which immediately took hold and started twining through her mind, coloring her recollections. Guilt followed in its wake. If he had loved her and she had said those things...
She looked up at Hamish. "I feel absolutely awful now for what I accused him of. Especially after meeting Jonnie. I don't know how he'd ever forgive me."
"Well, he wrote you a letter to explain. That's a good sign."
"But the letter was very hopeless with regard to us — to a future."
"Hermione, that was the day after you broke up with him rather spectacularly. It's understandable he was feeling bleak. Have you tried to contact him since?"
"I've thought about it so many times. But he was out of the country for weeks - I didn't know where. And then I always stumble over what I would say. What I would do. What if he were cold and dismissive? Or just didn't respond?"
"Hmm…" Hamish looked thoughtful, and just then the back door opened and Charlie tramped in.
"There you two are! I'd wondered where my cheering section had got to." He dropped into a chair opposite them with a grin that morphed into a more serious look as he took in their posture and Hermione's red rimmed eyes.
"Everything all right?" he said, his voice much softer.
Hamish squeezed Hermione, "I think so." She looked back at him and nodded.
"Did you tell her?" Charlie asked Hamish.
"Ah no, I haven't had a chance yet."
"Tell me what?" Hermione turned from one man to the other.
"You are coming on our trip with us," declared Hamish.
"Yes," added Charlie. "We're taking off on Thursday for a driving tour of the south-west and we want you to come."
"You look tired and too thin and like you need a holiday. And we want you all to ourselves for a few days," Hamish added.
Hermione's mind raced. There were a million reasons that she shouldn't go. Work was hectic and she hadn't planned to be away. And leaving the comfort of her recent routine felt frightening.
"I can see the wheels turning, but you're not saying no," said Hamish. "You need this and we deserve some time with you."
Hermione raised her brows at him. "You know, you and Ginny are the only people in the world I let bully me."
"So that's a yes, then?"
"Ok, ok," she finally laughed. "I'd love to."
Charlie gave a little cheer and Hamish smirked.
"So what's our itinerary?"
~oOo~
Draco dropped his case and walked into the flat, pulling off his robes as he went. Gods it had been an age since he'd been in London. June maybe? So, basically an entire lifetime.
The place felt quiet, as if it had been dormant in his absence.
He went to the liquor cart and poured himself a drink, then sank into the deep leather sofa and looked out the dark windowpane to the city lights beyond. He'd used to enjoy nights like this - the rare time alone quiet and restful.
Tilting his head back on the cushions he unknotted and pulled off his tie, unbuttoned his shirt collar, defiantly propped his feet up on the table in front of him and sighed. The next few days would be hectic. Good. Being alone with his thoughts was no longer pleasant.
He ran through his plans for the umpteenth time. It was Monday and he planned to announce the integration program in a week. He would work through the weekend to make sure everything was ready, because he knew that as soon as the word got out, certain factions would be looking for any way to stall or kill it — and he didn't plan to let that happen.
Astor would arrive tomorrow evening, which would also be a distraction. They'd spend a couple of days in the city and then go to Wiltshire. Everyone was coming for the announcement — to show support for him, he supposed. Even Theo had seen the date in the paper and owled to say he'd be home.
He sat up. Shit, there was probably nothing to eat in the flat and he was suddenly fucking starving. He'd have to go out and get something. Unbidden, the memory of when he'd gone to the cottage hungry and tired and she'd fed him flitted across his mind.
Their last good night.
He fought down a wave of melancholy and pushed up off the couch, shaking his head. But as he shouldered into his robes and began walking down the hall, he heard a key turn in the front door lock. The panel swung open and Daphne appeared.
"Daph!"
"Draco! I didn't think anyone would be here."
"I thought you were coming directly to Wiltshire or I would have warned you," he shrugged.
"I was, but I changed my plans." She came further into the flat and gave him an air kiss on the cheek.
Draco noticed the smell of good food wafting from a bag in her hand. He gestured to it, "I was just about to go out and get a takeaway myself. The cupboard is utterly bare."
"Oh, have some of this. It's curry. I couldn't decide, so I ordered way too much."
The bag did look rather heavy so he scooped it out of her hand and carried it to the kitchen. Being Daph, she also had a carrier bag containing a couple of bottles of cold white wine. Draco set everything out while she put her things in her room. He was pouring them each a glass of Riesling when she emerged.
"You're a lifesaver," he said as she settled into a stool across from him at the kitchen island. "I'm starved."
"This place is good too. Very close to the apparition point on the border." She dug into her food with relish and went to work on the wine.
They were silent for a bit as they ate and drank. When Draco felt a little less mad with hunger he swallowed and said, "How's Rémy?"
"Mmm," Daphne finished chewing. "He's well. I left him in Paris, but he'll be coming over here next week."
"And things between you?" Draco waved his hand.
"They're good." She looked down and smiled. When she looked up, Draco was still holding her gaze. He lifted his eyebrows when she remained silent. "Ok," she laughed. "What do you want to know?"
"Just how it's going. Are you serious? Are you happy? Is he going to become a part of our lives?"
She tilted her head and held her glass up to the light, regarding it in an exaggerated manner.
"What are you doing?"
"Just seeing if there's something funny in this wine that would be making Draco Malfoy ask me these types of questions."
"Oh come on, I'm not that bad." She just looked at him. "Ok, but you're the same. Example: You still haven't answered me."
She blew out a breath. "It's going well. Yes, I am happy. It's definitely on the way to being serious, which means there's a good chance he'll be popping up in our lives more regularly. I've told Astor about him. They met this summer and she loves him, so she approves."
"I'll wager she does. From what I understand they're kindred spirits. Both a bit, erm, energetic."
"Where did you hear that? I wasn't aware you'd met him."
The half smile on Draco's face faded and it was his turn to look down. "Hermione," he said. "She knows him."
Daphne was silent and Draco looked up to see her regarding him steadily. "And I know better than to ask you how you're doing," she said softly.
"I do want you to. I'd like to talk about it."
He saw the look of incredulity flit across her face, but she recovered quickly. "How are you?"
"Not great." He let the silence stretch until he heard the tiniest of snorts. He raised a brow at her. "I'm just trying to decide what to say."
"Why don't you tell me what happened? All I know is that we talked about it right before we took Astor to school and you were fairly adamant about keeping it going — and then a week later you were broken up." He flinched at her blunt words and her hand shot out to him. She touched the top of his closed fist with a gentle finger. "I'm sorry."
"No, it's ok. You're right. I just managed to fuck it up royally in that one short week. Or maybe before, I don't know."
"I assumed it was you who'd broken it off. Because it's usually you. And because when I saw her the other week she looked miserable."
"You saw her? Where?"
"Jonnie and I saw her at a book reading."
Draco felt his face drain of color. "Jonnie? She met Jonnie?"
"Yesss. Why is that a big deal? They seemed to get along. I found them out in the street smoking together."
He put his face in his hands and shook his head.
"What the fuck, Draco?"
So he told her about the ball and Hermione's issue with their friend.
"Oh my fucking GOD. Does Jonquil know about this?"
He shook his head. "No, no. And she doesn't need to. She's got enough going on."
Daphne was looking at him with so much exasperation that he threw his hands up. "What!? I know I fucked up, ok? Hermione explained it to me very clearly and I've been thinking about it almost non-stop for the past month."
"But do you, though? Do you really understand how she must have felt? I mean, you told her she couldn't come even though she offered - knowing full well the consequences - and then you leave in a huff after being an authoritarian arsehole. Then you open the ball with Jonnie? You know that's going to end up on the front page. You know it. And then you waltz back in expecting Hermione to be happy to see you..."
Draco shot Daphne a filthy look and grabbed the wine bottle she was struggling with. "Let me do it. You're mangling the cork." He opened it smoothly and topped up her glass. "You know you're a lot less sympathetic than Astoria."
"Yeah, because Astor worships you. She's also 16 and still unwise to the ways of the world. I can put myself in Hermione's shoes."
"Well I wrote her a letter to explain what had happened and gave it to her the next day."
"One question." Daphne's eyes were very narrow.
"Yes?"
"Did you apologise in this letter?"
He blinked at her. "Not. Exactly." She blew out an angry breath. "I didn't think I had anything to apologize for! It was all just a misunderstanding and I explained. I told her to ask you and Theo if she didn't believe me about Jonnie."
"But don't you see? Even if she knows your relationship with Jonnie is platonic. Which I think after they met in the bookshop, she probably does. Jonnie was having a bad Alistair night and I think she mentioned it to Hermione. Even if that is totally neutralised, a lot of the hurtful behavior is still there, Draco."
"I know that! I haven't been dwelling on my alleged affair with Jonnie the last four weeks, I've been thinking about what an arse I was."
"Good." Daphne was giving him a very hard stare. But then her face softened. "You're really unhappy."
"Yes, I'm really fucking unhappy." To his intense annoyance he felt the very faintest pricking of moisture in the backs of his eyes.
She tilted her head and her eyes widened. "You're in love with her."
He looked down and nodded once. Her hand came back across the table and covered his.
"What would you say to her if you could talk to her right now?"
"I don't know. I'm sorry? I miss you? I want to change...?" He blew out his breath. "But I have no idea how she feels about all of it. Maybe she's moved on and thinks she's dodged a bullet. Or maybe she's sad too, but is staying away because she thinks I'm bad for her — or we're bad for each other. All I know is that I wrote her and haven't heard back."
"You can't discount the fact that she may feel utterly mortified and doesn't know how to respond."
"Astor said something similar."
"I mean, as idiotish as you were, she could have trusted you more. She might feel rather awful now that some of her assumptions have been disproved. She did look a bit stricken the night of the book reading, after talking to Jonnie."
Draco's mind raced. The idea that Hermione was hurting, stricken, shot what felt like a physical pain into his heart. He wanted to kill the person who had hurt her, but then remembered it was himself.
He heaved up and started clearing dishes. Daphne came around the island and stopped him as he came away from the sink. He looked at her, puzzled, and she held out her arms. He stepped into them and she gripped him tightly.
"No matter what, Draco. You're a good person and you deserve to be happy," she said with a catch in her voice.
"Thank you, Daph. You too."