Year 2003, July
The Potter's Home
"And after you've pre-heated the oven, you shove the tray in it for twenty-five minutes and you wait until it turns sort of crispy and golden. And voilà! Presto!"
Hermione smiled at the redhead's description "You are getting really good at this baking thing, aren't you?"
"I can't complain. Harry's turning into a far better cook than me. I have to surpass him at something." Ginny answered, gathering the plates from the table.
"What's up with men and cooking, lately? Ron's been surprising me as well. Who knew, right?"
"You mean he can finally boil an egg without it exploding? He's improved then!"
Both witches started laughing on their way to the kitchen, where they were met with the curious eyes of the subject of their conversation.
"What's so funny?" Ron asked while helping Harry fill the dishwasher.
"Oh, nothing! Just something about boiling eggs." His sister replied handing Harry the last dishes on the table.
"What could possibly be funny about that?" Harry asked confused.
"Leave it mate. Girly stuff."
Hermione frowned at her husband's reply "Are you saying that the subject of egg boiling is associated with solemnly with women, Ronald?"
Ron laughed nervously "What? No, of course not!"
Ginny was smirking evilly at her brother "What did you mean, then?"
Ron suddenly felt trapped under the hot gaze of the two witches in the kitchen. He glanced fearfully at Harry who was chuckling slightly, filling the dishwasher with soap before closing it.
"Don't bother looking at him, he won't help you." The youngest Weasley told the eldest.
Hermione crossed her arms looking at her husband intently, closing the distance between them "You are messing with the wrong gals, pal."
Ron itched back towards the kitchen counter "Hermione, I didn't say it like that, come on! You know me."
"Do we?" Ginny grabbed the rolling pin next to him.
The two witches were cornering him and Ron started to fear the worst. Ginny seemed like she was ready to beat him into a pulp with the rolling pin and Hermione might as well be murdering him with her cold stare.
"Harry, mate, do something! They are mental!"
"You'd do well not to say those things in a kitchen with two feminists. You get what you deserve." Harry told him, enjoying the show from the other side of the room.
"Apologize."
Ron swallowed dryly before giving his wife a quick "I'm sorry." He closed his eyes on reflex when he noticed the rolling pin coming straight for his head and yelped loudly, preparing for the pain.
Alas, it never came. Laughter ensued and Ron welcomed his sight to a room full of grinning faces.
Ginny was laughing the hardest "Oh, Ron, you dimwit!"
He glared at the two witches, feeling slightly embarrassed but relieved at the same time.
"Yeah, yeah. You guys are bloody hilarious."
Hermione reached for her husband, her hand running over his wild, red hair "You are too easy."
"I just hate seeing you upset is all." He replied sincerely.
She gave him quick peck on the cheek "Don't say things like that and I won't be upset."
Ginny stored the rolling pin back into the counter "It is good to know you respect us, big brother."
"Earning respect and being bullied are two different things." Ron whined, Hermione's hand still ruffling his hair.
"Oh poor you, you suffer so much!"
As fun as this was, Harry decided it was finally time to intervene. They had a pressing matter on their hands and they needed to get to it "That's enough, Ginny. He's had his share. Also, we have other things to discuss other than Ron's fear of women."
"I'm not afraid of women!" The redhead's ears were turning crimson, as his two friends made their way towards the door grinning.
"I know you are not. You are quite capable of handling your own, unless it's spiders." Hermione conceded, following Harry and Ginny out of the kitchen and into the living-room.
"And feminists." He mumbled going after his wife.
The four of them gathered on the living-room sofa. Hermione always liked coming to Harry and Ginny's home. It was warm and cosy, filled with weird contraptions and nick-knacks that reminded her of the Burrow. No doubt Ginny had taken up decoration skills after Mrs. Weasley. It was interesting to see the contrast between Harry's home and her own. Even though both of them had muggle apparel and electronics and appliances, Hermione's house resembled a more… normal house, if you could put that way. Harry's had so much magical presence, it was hard not to notice it. Simply put, if a muggle came to Hermione and Ron's home they wouldn't notice much out of the ordinary. But the Potter's… you couldn't miss the traditional enchanted clock or some kind of enchanted dust cloth dusting away.
Still, it was interesting to see how many things Ginny has gotten used to, regarding the muggle world. The dishwasher was her favourite, even though Hermione knew dishes could be washed with a flick of a wand. She knew Ginny took up after Arthur Weasley when it came to 'muggle inventions'; she was curious and impressed by them. And the television? Merlin, Ginny loved the telly! It was practically always on, just as it was now. Hermione wondered if that was at all healthy, remembering how her parents would bicker with her because of the television. "It dumbs people" they would say. Hermione couldn't really form a concrete opinion, since she was never a big fan of television. She preferred the moving pictures and portraits of the wizarding world.
It seemed Harry was pretty used to the telly being on all the time. He didn't make anything of it as they sat down on the sofa. Ron took the armchair near the door and Ginny and Harry joined Hermione on the couch. The amused and light mood they were in was quickly vanishing, knowing things were about to get serious. Hermione could feel her body constrict with anxiety. Here they were all together just like old times, ready to discuss what they were going to do concerning the return of Death Eaters.
After Malfoy had come by her house, Hermione didn't even try to go back to sleep. She had re-joined Ron in their bed, knowing perfectly well she would just lay awake until the sun rose again. She was just a mess of emotions at that point. Zabini was back, it seemed. Dread didn't even begin to describe what she felt about that certain peace of information. Hermione was terrified, truly. Who knew what the dark skinned wizard was capable of.
She looked around at her friends who were still joking about Ron's little tantrum and knew they didn't know everything there was to know about Blaise Zabini. Sure, Ginny knew he had come close to kill her and later Harry and Ron had heard about it too, but what about the rest? Things only she and Malfoy knew. Things only she and Malfoy had seen. Things none of them could even begin to imagine…
And Hermione knew she should tell them, she knew it. By not telling them, she was putting them in danger, she knew that. But how could she, without telling the whole story? How could she fill in the plot holes that were Draco Malfoy? To tell them about Blaise she had to tell them about Malfoy and Hermione just wasn't ready for that. She didn't think she would ever be, especially now that he was back in action.
Her heart flickered. He was back and he had been in her house last night. He had been there because he was concerned with her safety. He still cared. After all this time, he still cared. And that confused the hell out of her. And what was that moment before he left? Merlin, what was that? The look he gave her, how her name just rolled on the tip of his tongue, his cold touch… What in the world was all that? And the note, and the…
Hermione had never been so conflicted and disoriented her entire life. She had never felt so guilty and anguished. Because it became so clear to her yesterday, so perfectly clear, as she lay there beside her husband, how much Draco Malfoy still meant to her. It should have come as a shock to her, she should have felt enraged and restless… but she didn't. Because she knew, she had known, ever since the day she had received that stupid, useless note. Draco Malfoy still meant something to her. And what that something was… well, she didn't want to find it out. She was terrified of it, of that something. She didn't want to even consider that something, because that something had to be shut down. It had to stop. She had to stop and he had to stop. They had to stop.
Part of her felt cheated on, like life was messing with her. There were times where all she could think about was the unfairness of it all. How it was unfair that he had come back, how it was unfair that he still cared and that she still cared, how it was unfair that she was married and supposedly in love with someone else…
Merlin, what was she thinking! She wasn't SUPPOSEDLY in love with someone else, she WAS in love with someone else. She was in love with Ron, with her husband. She was in love. She was.
… Was she?
Hermione closed her eyes, her hands gripping her jeans. How could she even doubt this? How could she? She was a newlywed, with a bright promising future ahead of her. She had married one of her best friends, the sweetest person in the world even with all his quirks and habits. She had been so happy, so, so happy. Happy with Ron and Harry and Ginny and Neville. And she had healed from the war. She had done her healing; they all had done it. And now, when she was ready to finally start over, to finally move on and start fresh… Now when she was prepared for it all... she certainly had not prepared for this: Death Eaters, Zabini's and betrayals and spies in the Ministry and… Malfoy.
Fucking, Malfoy.
"Hermione? Is everything alright?"
She opened her eyes locking on Ron's worried gaze, giving him a small smile "Yes, sorry. I was just thinking about something."
He smiled apprehensively back at her. Oh, Ron! I'm sorry. I'm so sorry… I just, I'm just… Merlin, how am I even capable of thinking like this? How can I even second doubt myself on this? This is so wrong, so unfair, so, so, so wrong, so –
"And he is meeting us here?" Ron asked his dark-haired friend.
"I think he is, right? Hermione, is he coming here?"
She cleared her dry throat. She could almost swear she felt a lump in her gullet.
"Yes. Malfoy is coming here to discuss it all with us."
Harry felt satisfied with her answer and didn't press any further. Hermione was glad for that. After a restless night, consequence of a certain blonde haired wizard, Hermione decided the best course of action was to just come clean about his visit. They were dealing with far more dangerous things than her preoccupations with her previous teenage love affair and she had to deal with that fact sooner rather than later. Of course Ron wasn't keen on the idea of Draco Malfoy stopping for a late night chat with his wife and he certainly didn't understand why she didn't wake him up.
Hermione tried to explain and excuse herself the best she could – Merlin, she felt like such a liar – arguing that Malfoy came to her because he had to go to someone.
"And why not Kinglsey? Malfoy was the one that practically begged to talk to him in the first place. We are nothing but scum to that arsehole."
And Ron had a point indeed. But, as Hermione explained, if Malfoy's suspicions were anything but correct, then they had to count on themselves. It pained her to think that way, seeing as Shacklebolt was their friend and also the best Minister she ever had the pleasure to work with, but they have been on this path way too many times. And maybe Malfoy saw it that way as well.
"So? Go bother Harry, then."
Really Ron? Malfoy going to Harry for help? Please accept the fact that out of all of us, Harry and you would be the last people he would resort to.
"So, what? He is ok with you now? He doesn't think you are a worthless muggleborn?"
He did, at one point, he did. It isn't like that anymore. Yes, he is still a loathsome prat and yes we still can't stand each other, but we are not children anymore. He fought with us, by our side, against Voldemort. You may not like him, you may not agree with him but we are old enough to put our differences aside and show some respect.
Don't you just feel like a fucking hypocrite saying all of this crap to your husband?
Hermione shrank a little more into the sofa. She couldn't help but imagine Draco's voice saying that to her. It was easier to hear from someone else, wasn't it? It made the guilt a bit more manageable. She wasn't lying though, when she had explained those things to Ron. She truly believed Draco should be treated with respect and that it should be mutual. Things were about to get messy and they needed all the help they could get.
Even if that help is coming from the one person you should stay away from?
She cursed inwardly. Fuck you Draco Malfoy.
As if on cue there was a knock at the door. Hermione immediately stiffen, nervous about Malfoy being in the same room as all of them. What if she unwantedly implied something? What if there was a longer stare, a stupid joke? What if he just ignored her all together? Would they notice? Would they notice it?
Ok, breathe. Remain calm. They don't know, they will never know and there are more important things to talk about right now.
Harry returned to the living-room – when had he gotten up? – and following him came the still hobbling body of Draco Malfoy. He looked so out of place, so uncharacteristically uncomfortable. He was clad in black robes and his limp was still noticeable. His court nod was his greeting gesture as he considered where to sit.
"You can sit on that chair."
Draco seemed almost thank-full for Hermione's suggestion. Truth was, he had been dreading this meeting. He wasn't in the mood to deal with the precious Golden Trio and Weaselette, especially with a certain brown-haired witch. After his pitiable demonstration of just how much of a wanker he truthfully was, Granger was the very last person he wanted to see. He was surprised to have received her calling, more surprised that she even remembered their little secret way of communicating with each other when in trouble. It was something Draco hadn't been expecting.
Hermione exhaled in relief when she saw him take a seat with no fuss. Calling him here had been almost a desperate move on her part. It was also showing her friends almost too much, the confusion on their faces evident as to how she had reached Malfoy.
"The coins from the DA, of course. Some of the former student's kept them. Don't tell me you've lost yours?"
Liar. Liar. Liar.
"Hermione has already told us what you told her Malfoy, but I want to hear it from you directly. Do you really have reason to suspect someone in the Ministry?" Harry was right down to business. Hermione decided to cut the crap and pay attention to the urgent matter at end.
"If Granger told you, why do you need to hear it again? I'm here because we need to decide what we are going to do, Potter. I'm not here to repeat myself or tell you a fucking bedtime story."
Harry wasn't fazed by Malfoy's response "I'm not asking for a story, Malfoy. I'm just trying to understand. It's a serious accusation don't you think?"
And Draco wasn't intimidated "Who here is accusing anyone? I have the right to my suspicions and since I'm the one doing the dirty work I suggest you keep your opinions on the matter to yourself."
"You are doing the dirty work? What, a broken leg and you are suddenly the hero?" Ron mocked from his seat.
"It isn't broken, Weasley, but thanks for the concern. And yes, dirty work. How many of you idiots knew that something was going down on that monster's home town?" Malfoy asked no one in particular.
"So he's a monster now? Didn't seem like it when you were being his lap dog."
"Ron, please." Hermione scowled "We are not here for this."
"Even when I was his lap dog Weasley, I was still good for something. What are you good for? I bet you can't even man up in the sack."
Ron's wand was out before Hermione had the time to react. She hastily got up about the same time Draco drew his own wand. Harry and Ginny drew their own and suddenly she was surrounded by a group of four wizards, pointing their wands at each other. The tension in the air was palpable and Hermione cursed herself for being so bloody stupid as to think they could all get along.
Merlin, was this how it was going to be all the time?
"For Merlin's sake, can't you act like fucking adults?" Hermione shouted, the anger reaching her voice.
"I'm sorry, Hermione, but I can't bloody sit here and listen to this ferret." Ron seethed through his teeth, wand still pointed straight at Malfoy's head.
Draco gave him the infamous Malfoy smirk "You were the one that wanted to join the conversation, Weasel. If I annoy you so much, why don't you go take a stroll, get some air? You'd be doing us all a favour. I can smell your shit all the way from over here."
Hermione wanted to kill Malfoy at that moment. He knew perfectly well not to push Ron's buttons and yet he still did it!
Of course I'll do it. I fucking hate the guy.
Get out of my fucking head, Malfoy!
"My shit!?" Ron asked incredulously, a dry laughter following his question "You are the one coming to us for help, Malfoy. You are the one standing in the lion's den and if you are not careful, you might just get fucking maimed."
"Not before I throw you first into the snake pit!" Malfoy roared, his wand shaking.
"THAT'S ENOUGH, BOTH OF YOU!" Hermione stomped her foot hard into the floor.
Harry took the opportunity to cast a quick "Expelliarmus!" and both of the wizard's wands went flying into the hallway. Ron just gave him a bewildered look and Malfoy fumed in annoyance.
"If you can't act like fucking grownups, than this meeting is a fucking waste of my time!" Hermione continued, looking disapprovingly at everyone.
"Hermione, you have to understand that – "
"That what, Harry? That Death Eaters are back? That fucking Blaise Zabini is trying to run the show?" Draco flinched at that "That people are in danger? That I don't want more people to die? That I can't sleep at night, thinking about all of this? Tell me what there is to understand because I sure as hell would like to know!"
Harry silently looked down at the floor. Hermione's question was met by silence.
She continued "Please, tell me, Harry, what is there to understand? Do you have any idea of how lucky we are, to just be here? To be alive right now?"
He frowned at that "Of course I do, Hermione. I lived seven years not knowing if I would make it to the next. I feel blessed every day."
"And that's not the point, Hermione. How can you even stand to be in the same room as this fucker, the same fucker who tried to kill Dumbledore, who – "
"I'm going to stop you right there, Ronald! I never said you had to forgive, Malfoy. I understand if you don't. All I said was to just put your differences aside and focus on what is really important. And right now the wizarding world's safety is more important than this pathetic demonstration of testosterone!"
"No need to defend me, Granger."
Hermione turned her gaze towards the former prince of Slytherin "I'm not defending you, Malfoy. You are also to blame in all of this. You don't have the right to come into my friend's house and rile up my husband, not when we are all making an effort to help you and to –"
"Oh save the me condescending act, Granger! Do I have to put up with this for the rest of my fucking life? For how long do I have to live for you people to give me a fucking break?"
"A break? You don't deserve a break! Azkaban, that is what you fucking deserve you wanker!"
"I'm warning you Weasely, one more out of you and I'll show you just exactly how much I deserve to be in Azkaban." Malfoy took a step further in Ron's direction, his teeth baring.
"Is that a threat? I would love to see you fucking try." Ron advanced as well, the two of them merely inches from each other, nostrils flaring, fists clenching and unclenching.
Hermione was getting desperate. She quickly looked over at Harry who made his way towards the other two males "Guys, come on. This is fucking pointless!"
Thank-you, Harry. At least you seem to get it.
Hermione then looked over at Ginny, also hoping the redhead would help her but her brow furrowed when she noticed the younger witch wasn't even paying attention. Her gaze was glued to the television, her mouth wide open, her eyes almost watering. What the?
Hermione looked over at the TV, trying to focus on the moving pictures. Apparently there was something on the news. Something big, something horrible. She couldn't understand with all the bickering that was going on around her, Ron and Malfoy were still going at each other while Harry was trying to get between them. She hurriedly searched for the remote, finding it on fireplace. Rapidly moving, she got to it and upped the volume of the television.
"… and while the police still have no explanation to this shocking crime, the Brighton community keeps asking for an answer."
A crime? Someone was murdered?
The news caster was now talking to a reporter on the scene. The reporter was near a house, probably where the crime had taken place. Hermione kept watching intently, the raising of the volume pulling the males out of their quarrel and they were now watching as well.
"Yes, I'm still here and the forensics team is still inside. We don't have much information to go on yet. All we know was that the victim was aged 10, a little girl and that she was probably murdered inside her own house. The only indication of this fact being the gruesome writing on the wall with what experts believe to be blood, they aren't sure if it's the victim's, of a strange, macabre message: die, mudblood, die."
Hermione didn't acknowledge the moment her breath had itched and stopped. She didn't even felt the first tear rolling down her cheek or the way her hands clenched the remote close to her aching chest. She didn't acknowledge anything. She was too busy shattering.
She felt herself shatter, the pain in her heart burning her insides. And suddenly she was back. She was back at that place, she was back at that time. She was no longer in the present, she went back. Back to the pain, to the hurt, to the dark. She was back in the dark, drowning in the darkness.
It was like they hadn't moved forward at all. It was like she was back there again; back at that place, back to that feeling. It was like… it was hunting them. It was hunting them again. He was hunting them again. Even in death, he hunted them. His ghost lingered; his evil had remained. He wanted them to join him in death. He wanted them to die all over again. He wanted her to die; her and everyone she cared about.
Hermione tried to take a breath and noticed that she couldn't. Her lungs wouldn't work; her heart refused to pump blood into her system – her blood, her muddied blood. She couldn't breathe, she couldn't move. She was trapped. She was trapped in all this death. She was drowning and he wouldn't let her come to the surface. He wanted to kill her. Voldemort wanted to kill her.
Kill me. Please kill me. Please!
"Hermione…"
Something cold. Something cold was touching her face.
Breathe. Try to breathe. Why can't I breathe?
Her eyes couldn't see. Her heart was trying so desperately to wake her body, to wake her up but it wasn't enough. She couldn't breathe. She was back at that place. She was back at that tower. She was back at that feeling. She was back to the nightmare, to death. Death was pulling at her, he was pulling at her.
Die you mudblood bitch!
.Makeitstop.
"Hermione!"
Again something cold on her cheeks. Something cold on her forehead. Something cold…
"Hermione… Come back to me, Hermione…"
Who? Come back to where? Merlin, breathe! Why can't you fucking breathe?
"Hermione… Come back to me. I've got you."
I've got you.
Draco.
Draco?
"I've got you, Hermione. I won't let go."
Draco.
Gasp. Big Gasp.
And air. Precious Air.
Her lungs filling with air.
Gasp.
Air.
She was breathing again.
Pant.
Pant.
She was breathing. Desperately.
"That's it. Breathe. Come back to me. I've got you."
He's got her. Draco's got her. He was there. He was there again.
He got her. He always got her.
Draco.
Her eyes were focusing now. They were blinking and filling up with light. And she looked. She could see again and she wasn't at that place anymore. She was back home. She was back to herself. She was back to Draco.
Draco.
He was there, holding her face in his cold hands, his forehead resting against hers and his eyes… His eyes were looking back at hers.
He was there. Draco.
She was safe. She was safe again.
"Breathe…"
He was whispering. His voice was soothing; it was warm. His breath was fresh and minty against her nose; his thumbs drawing circles on her cheeks. And he was looking at her with those eyes, those beautiful, grey eyes. He was looking at her, at her soul. His eyes were so full of concern, so full of heat and care and… and…
And…
"Is she ok? Is she ok!?"
Another voice. A frenetic voice, desperate and fearful. Hermione needed to respond to that voice; she needed the voice to shut up.
"I'm fine Gin…" Her throat felt raw, dry.
"Breathe, ok?"
Draco.
She was breathing again. Her chest was swelling.
And Draco was there. He was there just as he had been all those years ago. He was there to save her. He was there to bring her back from the darkness; so much darkness…
Then there was another voice, a raising voice.
"What the fuck did you do to her you fucking bastard!?"
A shove.
Hermione gasped as her husband shoved Draco forcefully away from her. The younger Malfoy didn't have time to react as his back collided with the TV screen.
Don't! Hermione wanted to shout but her voice was still garbled up in her throat.
Ron took hold of her "Hermione? Hermione can you hear me? Hermione are you hurt? Are you ok?"
"She's fine Weasley." Malfoy explained standing straight.
"I didn't fucking ask you! Shut the fuck up!" Ron was shouting now, his hands searching his wife's face and shoulders, his eyes locked on her form.
Harry went to stand protectively between the former Slytherin Prince and Hermione "What did you do, Malfoy?"
"I didn't do anything, Potter." Malfoy seethed, his gaze burning "She was having a panic attack and she needed to calm down."
"A panic attack? Hermione doesn't have panic attacks!"
Please, Ron. Please calm down. Please just let me breathe, just let me…
"She used to, back at Hogwarts. Look, Weasley, she just needs – " Malfoy began to explain but was cut short.
"I thought I told you to shut the fuck up!" Ron turned to Malfoy now, his blood boiling, his face red with anger.
"Ron, maybe she just needs to sit down and drink a glass of cold water ok?" Ginny intervened "I'll go get it, just sit her down on the sofa."
"Hermione, can you hear me? Say something, Hermione!" Ron asked his wife desperately.
Hermione cleared her throat again, her breathing had returned to normal even though she was still feeling slightly lightheaded "Ron, I'm fine… I just need to sit down a minute, ok? Can you help me sit down?"
Relief washed over all the occupants in the room. Ron quickly nodded aiding her and leading her towards the couch. Ginny hurried to the kitchen and Harry still faced Malfoy, pinning him in place with his stare.
Hermione let Ron sit her down on the sofa. He took a seat next to her and held her hand, brushing some strands of hair from her face.
Malfoy watched as the scene unfolded, trying to hide the jealousy and hurt from his features. He watched as Ron Weasely softly caressed her hand and hair, whispering words of comfort.
It should be him doing that. It was him that used to do that when she crumbled, when she was so exhausted from it all she couldn't even take a breath. When she had wanted nothing more than to succumb to everything, to just let go and not fight anymore. It was him that made her breathe again, when she had seen death and had wished for it to take her. Draco had been there. He had been there with her and he had been the one to hold her like that and protect her. Not fucking Weasley.
Ginny rushed back into the living-room, a glass of water in her hand. She handed it to Hermione and waited anxiously as the older witch gulped the glass dry. She mumbled a small thanks and gave the now empty glass back to her friend.
"Hermione, are you ok?" Harry asked worriedly.
She exhaled softly before reply "Yes, Harry. I'm fine. Thank-you."
"What happened? Did he hurt you?" Ron was massaging her back, trying to sooth her.
"For fuck's sake, I didn't do –"
"If you know what's good for you, Malfoy, you will fucking stay quiet." Harry warned again.
Malfoy huffed in annoyance, silently wondering how was it possible for people to be so dumb.
"Please, stop." Hermione put her hands to her temple, the dizziness still lingering.
" 'Mione, we just want to understand what happened." Ginny conceded.
Hermione's gaze travelled to the TV "That girl… That girl on the television. She was a muggleborn. She was a muggleborn… And she was killed."
Ron took her hand again "Hermione…"
"I need you to do something for me." She told them.
Harry was the first to reply "Sure, whatever you need, Hermione. What is it?"
"I need you to go down there, now. I need you to find out who did this." She said, her expression serious "Because this was it, this was the beginning, all over again. This was the message. They are back. Voldemort's back."
"You-Know-Who is dead 'Mione…" Ginny said softly.
"We don't know that! We don't know anything anymore! He was dead before, right? He was dead after Harry…" Hermione took a deep breath, trying once again to calm herself down "He was dead. And then he wasn't. We don't know if he is still dead again."
"Hermione, I killed him. I saw it, I felt it. And I haven't felt anything since – "
Hermione cut him off "How many times have we saw something, felt something and then found out not to be true? Have you forgotten the world we are in, Harry? Have you forgotten what magic can actually do? We won't ever know something for certain, ever!"
Harry sighed in defeat "How serious are you about this?"
The brown-haired witch answered surely "Ten. Serious to the amount of ten. A girl just died… a little girl."
Hermione felt Ron squeeze her hand "We'll find the ones who did this, Hermione. And we will –"
"Right then, enough of this bullshit. You heard her, let's move it. We need to get there before the body is moved elsewhere." Malfoy's tone was demanding.
"We?" Ron's arrogant voice asked "We aren't doing anything. Harry and I are the fucking Aurors here. Don't fucking treat us like we are friends or something. People like you are the reason this shit is happening in the first place!"
"I'm not your friend, Weasley nor I ever want to be. I just want to find out if we are on the verge of another fucking war!"
"Are you sure you are on the right side on this one?" Ron cruelly remarked.
"You are really testing my patience." Malfoy growled.
Hermione hastily got up from the sofa "Ok that's enough, both of you! A girl just died, please show some respect and do your fucking jobs." She saw Ron about to complain again "I said enough! Malfoy is with us, Ron, whether you like it or not. He's proven himself more than once, so fucking grow up and deal with it."
The redhead looked back at his wife with a shocked expression on his face. Hermione felt a pang in her heart as she noticed the hurt in his eyes. I'm sorry, Ron. I really am. A girl was just murdered. I really need to… Dammit why can't I be stronger than this? Why can't be fucking stronger, like you, like Harry… like Malfoy?
"Fucking move it, then. We've wasted enough time already." Malfoy went to the hallway to recover his lost wand.
"Hermione, will you be alright?" Harry's voice was full of concern as he fastened his cloak.
Hermione took another deep breath as she cursed herself for still feeling a little bit wobbly "Yes, I will. Just find out who did this. Keep me posted."
The dark-haired wizard gave her a small smile "We will. Right, let's move."
As Hermione sat back on the couch, her head still drowning in swirly motions, she noticed Malfoy staring at her. She stared back at him, trying to silently tell him that she was fine and that she was thankful for him being here.
"Get fucking moving, Malfoy." Ron's cold voice was right behind her. With a hateful glare, Malfoy followed Harry out of the house. Ron turned to his sister "Take care of her, Gin. Make sure she doesn't do anything stupid." And with that, the older ginger in the room stepped out.
Hermione cringed when she heard the door slam shut. She knew Ron was angry, very, very angry. She couldn't blame him, in fact, deep down she knew she deserved it. The situation was rapidly getting out of her control and the longer she tried to hide that fact, the more probable it was for someone to get hurt. And it had already begun. This was just the beginning.
"Hermione…"
"Hmm?" Hermione turned to the youngest redhead sitting next to her on the sofa, anticipating what came next. She knew what Ginny was going to ask and she couldn't escape it, not anymore.
"Since when do you have these sorts of things? These, these…"
"Panic attacks." Hermione finished for her "I mean, I suppose that is what you call them."
"Ok, panic attacks. Since when?"
Hermione sighed tiredly "Hogwarts… I mean, I haven't had one in a while. Nowadays, I just get anxious. But with everything that is going on, I just… It all came rushing back."
"You never told me." Hermione knew Ginny wasn't accusing her of anything. If anything, her ginger friended sounded hurt.
"I couldn't, Gin. I was Head Girl. I had to deal with it, it was my responsibility. I couldn't let other students find out."
Ginny frowned at that "But that is just it, Hermione! I wasn't just another student. I was you friend. You should have come to me. I mean, I was there with you, all the way. I know perfectly well what kind of nightmares we had to face that year."
"Exactly. It was a nightmare. It was the worst year of my entire life, Gin." Hermione argued "And it was my job to keep you guys safe, all of you! I couldn't afford to break down, not then, not now, not ever."
"Everyone breaks down, Hermione. It is human nature. And you said it yourself, that year was horrible. We needed to stay close together, be there for each other."
"You had a lot on your plate already."
"That is not the point!" Ginny insisted "The point was you went through all of it alone, when you didn't need to."
Hermione gulped, looking down at her hands "I… I wasn't alone."
There was a moment of silence between the two witches. Hermione couldn't master up the courage to face her friend. She had just partially confessed to Ginny that she hadn't, indeed, been alone that year. It was the first time she had confessed to that, out loud.
Oh please, Gin. Don't hate me. Don't hate me, please.
She heard Ginny intake a breath before asking "Malfoy?"
Hermione kept looking down at her hands, unsure if she should continue this. She knew Ginny wasn't a fool. Heck, nobody that had been in this living room was a fool. Of course, after that "open display of affection", she knew they were bound to be confused. Merlin, she was confused herself. For Malfoy to be so blunt about it, to just hold her like that in front of her best-friends, of her husband… She knew Ron would want to talk to her. She knew her friends would want an explanation sooner or later. Was it in their place to ask her that? Should she give them one? She didn't want to, Merlin, she really didn't want to. But what did that really accomplish? What was she so scared of? She was a grown woman, for Merlin's sake. They weren't in Hogwarts anymore. Malfoy wasn't the enemy bully. This was the adult world now. They were old enough to understand, weren't they? Sure she still had some trouble understanding it herself, but they were her friends, right? Friends stood with each other in times of need, the helped each other and they wouldn't judge. Right?
"Yes. Malfoy."
There, it was out, she had said it. Yes, Malfoy. Malfoy had been there for her. She had been there for him. And Merlin she had… She had… Merlin she had loved him, so much. She had loved him so fucking much.
"As a friend, or…?" Even though Ginny felt like she knew the answer, she had to ask anyway.
Hermione chuckled sadly at the ridicule of her friend's question "As a friend, as a… lover." She paused, turning to look directly at her friend "As everything. He was there for me."
Please don't hate me Ginny, oh please.
Ginny held her gaze and for what felt like hours, Hermione worried Ginny might laugh at her or feel disgusted with her but the redhead just gave her a small smile and squeezed her hand.
"I always knew you had a thing for him."
"Ginny!" Hermione felt her cheeks heating up.
"Oh come on, he was a vile git but he was hot."
"It wasn't… It wasn't like that!" Hermione explained, blushing. She looked down at their hands "He was… He changed, Gin. He regretted it all. He became… He became someone you could count on, someone that cared, someone that wanted to help and do good. Someone righteous, the kind of someone those around him could feel proud of. And he saved my life… twice."
"Why didn't you tell me at the time? I mean, I knew something wasn't right… Malfoy was definitely off that year, he was different. I just didn't think you were the reason behind it."
"And I wasn't." Hermione clarified "I mean, he came to the grand conclusion on his own. I was just there to guide him and show him the way, I guess."
"You also saved his life, then." Ginny concluded.
Hermione had never really looked at it that way. She had, hadn't she? They had saved each other.
"So, you are not mad?" Hermione asked hesitantly.
Ginny's gaze soften "Why should I be mad? Sure, he is still Malfoy and I'm not sure I fully understand what you could have liked about him, apart from his arse." Hermione rolled her eyes at that remark "And yes, I wish you could have told me. It hurts a little."
"Oh, Ginny, I'm really sor–"
"But" Ginny continued "I get why you didn't. I think, back then, I wouldn't react like this. I would probably think you were cursed or something. But I saw him during the battle, Hermione. He was really fighting with us. He had changed. And now here he is again, wanting to fight alongside us once more. That's all I need to know. So, thank-you, for telling me."
Hermione had never felt so relived in her entire life "Oh, Gin. Thank-you. I was so scared you would just call me a bunch of names and never talk to me again."
"Honestly, Hermione, you really need to trust your friends more." Ginny's expression then turned serious "I'm guessing, Ron doesn't know about anything, right?"
The brown-haired witch felt her gaze travelling to the place Ron had sat beside her "No. He doesn't."
"And Harry?"
"No one knows. Well, now you."
Ginny nodded in understanding "You know you have to tell Ron, right? I mean, Malfoy's back and… Well, you guys have a history and it is bound to show itself sooner or later."
Hermione sighed defeated "I know… I kept wishing I could just bring this to grave with me."
"Hermione, Ron's a big boy. Yes he has a temper, but I think you don't give him enough credit, sometimes. He loves you, he would do anything for you. So you got involved with Malfoy on your last year at Hogwarts, so what? It was years ago and it will never happen again."
For some reason, hearing Ginny say that made Hermione's stomach take a turn. Merlin, why?
"At first he may be shocked and he might get mad because it is Malfoy, but it's all in the past now. He is the one you married, he is the one you want to spend the rest of your life with so he'll get over it. And we'll get through this impeding war and we will find the ones who are fucking responsible for all of this and we'll defeat them and Malfoy will go back to wherever he came from and life goes back to normal. Simple."
Yes, looking at it like that it all seemed so simple, didn't it? It would all be so simple if part of the reason for Malfoy being here in the first place weren't because of her. And that she had faltered on her wedding day and that she had been thinking about that ever since and that Malfoy had just been in her house last night and that she had felt this urge to kiss him and –
"And it is like not Ron hasn't dated anyone before marrying you. There was that witch with the mole."
– And she really needed to stop thinking about this.
"I just hope they can find out something… I should be there with them." Hermione said.
"They will, Hermione. And we will bring the killer or killers to justice. We can win this. We did it once, we will do it again!"
Hermione was only partially listening, her attention focused on the TV in front of her, trying to get a sense of what was happening.
I hope so, Ginny. I really hope so.
I'm alive and I want to finish this story. I want to finish it. And I will. Love you all.
