Chapter 3
Ginny stepped out of the fire in a gout of green flames and into the poorly lit main room of the Leaky Cauldron. Looking around, she spotted Hermione with her head down on one of the tables in the corner.
Silently, she made her way over to the other girl and sat down across from her.
The young genius looked up at her ex-boyfriend's little sister and smiled sadly. "Hi."
"Hi," Ginny said nervously, not really understanding what it was she had gotten herself in the middle of. "How are you?" she asked lamely, unsure how to start the conversation.
"I've seen better days," she replied calmly, sitting up straight and setting her arms on the table. After a few moments of awkward silence, Hermione sighed. "I reserved a room, so we can talk in private."
Now more suspicious than before, Ginny rose from her seat and followed Hermione up the stairs.
Entering the room, Ginny noticed there was no luggage. Looks like she rented it just for this, she thought, an odd feeling in her stomach.
If the circumstances were different, this could even be –
No, stop it Ginny. She's not like that.
The younger girl took a spot on the bed, while Hermione took up residence on the window sill. "Just ask your questions Gin. I'll be honest," she said, looking out the window.
The redhead looked up at the older girl and saw it.
"So there is something between you and Malfoy," she said softly, hoping it wasn't true.
Hermione shook her head, still not looking at her. "No, there's not."
Ginny felt a small spark of hope, but it was quickly squashed when Hermione continued. "There isn't anything between us, but there was."
The redhead's eyes widened. "You… you and Malfoy? When? Why?" she asked, shocked. Hearing a rumor from Luna was one thing, hearing the truth from Hermione was another.
"Okay, no more dancing around. What's going on?" Ginny snapped, finally fed up with Hermione's reluctance to talk to her.
She stared intently at the older girl, waiting for an answer.
Hermione leaned her head against the window, gathering her thoughts. "Gin, you can't breathe a word of this to anyone, above all Ron. Promise me," she finally turned to face Ginny, eyes pleading with her.
Oh, no. She didn't… the younger girl thought as she shook her head. "I can't promise you anything, Hermione. This is my brother we're talking about here."
The older girl seemed to age fifty years at the answer she received. "I guess that's to be expected, though," she said, more to herself than to the youngest Weasley.
"It's because of your brother that I got involved with Malfoy for that day," she sighed, turning to stare back out the window that overlooked the streets of Muggle London.
"What do you mean, Hermione," the younger girl asked cautiously.
"I ran into Malfoy after I got into that fight with Ron," she answered without looking back at her. "He was on his way to an 'engagement,'" she finger quoted, laughing sourly as she did so.
Ginny, for her part, stayed silent, not at all liking the direction this story was going.
"Did you know his left arm is covered in burn scars?" the older girl asked, almost at random.
She received a blank stare in response.
"Or that he wears this shoddy old necklace with a cheap dragon pendant on it? Or that he has a birthmark on his inner thigh in the shape of Belgium?"
The redhead's eyes started widening as Hermione's questions became more and more specific, the picture coming together in her mind.
"Did you know he can be a normal, caring human being?" she breathed, still not facing the other girl.
Ginny just stared at her in shock. "You didn't…" she breathed, refusing to believe a word of it, even with it laid out so clear to her.
Even thought the older girl wasn't facing her, Ginny could see the tears trailing down Hermione's face. "I did, Ginny. I slept with him, and I can't get him out of my head," she said bitterly.
"How could you?" she asked dangerously, her anger for her brother overriding her sympathy for her friend.
The chestnut-haired girl looked down at the floor, still unable to meet the intense gaze of the redhead. "I don't know," she said, voice breaking.
Ginny's lip curled as the infamous Weasley temper began to take over. "You don't know?" she yelled, not caring if anyone heard her. "You don't know how it is you ended up sleeping with Voldemort's heir apparent right after you broke up with my brother? Never mind that he's an evil little twit. He's done nothing but insult you, me and my entire family at every given opportunity. How does that translate into 'a normal, caring human being,' Hermione? Make me understand how that works!"
"Because he wanted me!" Hermione screamed back, catching Ginny by surprise. "I didn't have to pretend to be the perfect Gryffindor with him! I could be me, without any expectations or reservations about how I should act, or what kind of person I am! And for one night," she paused, a sob racking her body as tears started flowing freely. "I wanted that," she finished weakly as she slumped to the ground. "I wanted to be wanted."
Ginny stood there, staring at this strong girl, the girl who helped her through the trauma of the Chamber of Secrets more than anyone, now sobbing on the floor of a room in the Leaky Cauldron, and she felt ashamed.
She had never known what the chestnut-haired girl had felt like with her brother. She had always assumed – as had everyone – that they were the perfect couple.
Now that she was forced to think about it though, she should have seen something like this coming.
Ron was always one to want something, then, when he got it, take it for granted that it would always be there.
It's not that he meant ill will towards anyone or anything – he had one of the biggest hearts Ginny knew – but he wasn't very good at expressing himself, or knowing that he needed to.
So here was Hermione, a very expressive and – Ginny could now see – insecure girl, heartbroken because she had made a mistake.
Ginny sighed as she sat on her heels in front of Hermione.
Hermione braced herself for a slap or punch or any of the millions of things she felt Ginny deserved to do to her.
She received understanding instead.
"I can't forgive you for what you did, Hermione. You basically cheated on my brother, and with his worst enemy at that. I can't overlook that. I can't be your friend after something like that, and I'm sorry, Hermione. But I guess I can understand why you did it, even though I still don't think you should have."
Hermione's sobs slowed, and she looked up at the younger girl, sad resignation in her eyes. "It's better than I was even hoping for," she hiccupped. "You're not going to tell him, are you?" she asked, fear creeping into her voice.
Ginny shook her head with a sigh as she stood up again, "I will if you don't. Because I can't know something like this and not tell him," she smiled sadly as she held out a hand to her former friend.
Taking the proffered hand, Hermione was hauled to her feet. A few minutes of awkward silence followed, with the girls just trying not to look at each other.
"I need to get home now," Ginny finally said when it became apparent the other girl wouldn't be saying anything more.
"I should be leaving too," Hermione said sadly, but made no motion to do so.
Ginny nodded and turned to leave. She paused momentarily at the door, and looked over her shoulder at Hermione. "Take care of yourself," she said, smiling sadly.
The young genius returned the smile. "You too."
With a nod, Ginny opened the door and walked out, leaving Hermione to wallow in the loss of the first of many friends.
How could I ever have wanted the approval of that man? Draco screamed at himself, folding another shirt and setting it in his suitcase.
He had sent the owl to St. Mungo's as his father had instructed, then promptly returned to his room and began packing his things. He didn't want a House Elf to do it, because they would inform his father that he was planning on leaving.
How could he do that to his own wife? Someone he's supposed to love. He stopped as he reached for another pair of slacks and started laughing at his own stupidity.
Love? What the hell is that? Malfoys don't love. They use things to get what they want in life. Love is a dream, a weakness.
Turning from where his suitcase sat on his bed, he crossed the room, stopping in front of his mirror. He leveled a glare at his reflection that it shrunk back in fear.
There was a solid knock on his door, and he turned to see his father stepping into his room. He didn't disguise the hatred or disgust he now felt for this man. "Can I help you, Father?"
"One of the House Elves saw that you were packing your things, and I was just curious as to where you were going," he said calmly, one elegant eyebrow raised.
"Diagon Alley. I need a little time to sort out my thoughts," he bit out. In truth, he didn't think he could take spending another second in a house with this man.
A cruel sneer crossed Lucius' face. "This isn't about the incident with your mother, is it?" he asked derisively.
Draco's eyes narrowed, but he did not respond.
"Very well then. Let me know where you are staying, in case we need you," he spun on his heel and walked out of the room, slamming the door behind him.
Draco didn't need to ask who 'we' were.
Returning his gaze to the mirror he remembered how he felt that night.
Crabbe was dead because he didn't want to follow a madman, and now Draco knew for certain why he felt empty.
He had lost a friend
Again.
Then and there he renewed a vow he made six and a half years earlier.
"I will not be weak."
"Hey mum, where's Ginny?" Ron called from the top of the stairs.
"She left a little while ago to meet Hermione for lunch in Diagon Alley – something you could be doing if you'd just suck it up and apologize," she yelled back up at him.
But Ron wasn't listening anymore. What the hell? Ginny's having lunch with her and she doesn't even tell me? How sisterly of her, he thought sarcastically.
He flopped down on his bed and Harry, who had arrived that morning, had to roll off the bed to avoid him.
"Bloody hell, Ron. What's the matter?" he asked from his newfound spot on the floor.
"She's not even giving me a chance here, Harry."
This caused the sprawled boy to roll his eyes. "You haven't even tried anything to give her a chance about, mate."
Ron sat up, stiff as a board, and glared at his friend. "I'm not in the wrong, she is. She needs to admit that I'm right for once and just get over it. I don't need to apologize."
The dark-haired boy looked at him dubiously for a moment before shaking his head. "You don't really believe that, do you?"
With a groan Ron flopped back on his bed. "No, I don't. I just want her to talk to me again. I mean, I don't even know what I'm sorry about anymore."
Harry sighed and sat up, curling his arms around his knees, and looked at Ron, completely bored with the subject. "Look, you just need to apologize. Ginny and Hermione are in Diagon Alley, right?"
Ron nodded cautiously, not quite understanding what his best friend was getting at.
"So, we go bump into them and you can tell her how sorry you are."
Ron jumped out of bed, a million galleon smile on his goofy face. "You're brilliant, mate! Let's get going!" he exclaimed, pulling on his shoes and running out the bedroom door.
"Ron!" the other boy called in alarm when the redhead disappeared around the corner.
After a moment, the boy in question popped his head back around the doorframe, a confused look on his face. "What?"
"As stylish as those boxers are, I think you should put on some pants, mate."
An hour after Ginny left, Hermione emerged from her room and made her way down the stairs to let Tom know he could have the room back.
"You evil little bugger!"
Hermione's eyes widened as familiar voices started floating up towards her.
"Please, poor boy, do start something. I am in a very bad mood and would like nothing more than to get you back for that cheap shot on the train."
As Hermione leapt the last few steps, she saw Ron escape the hold Harry had of him and lunge at Draco, only to be stopped suddenly by a hand coming from virtually nowhere and grabbing the back of his collar.
Goyle lifted the tall boy off the ground, bringing them eye-to-eye.
"I suggest you cool off, because I'm looking for a good brawl right now, and I guarantee I'm a better fighter than Draco."
Ron's face paled as he remembered exactly how good of a fighter the other boy was. That didn't stop him from glaring at the blond in question however. "Having your pet troll fight your battles for you again?" he snarled, though Hermione could see most of the fight had already gone out of him.
Fed up with the childish actions of the boys, Hermione decided to make her presence known. "Ron, stop it."
All eyes turned to her, and all four boys held the same surprised look. She would have laughed under any other circumstances.
"Her-Her-Hermione! What are you doing here?" Ron stammered, obviously not expecting her to walk in on this spectacle.
Shaking her head, the young witch set her hands on her hips in a manner she had learned from Molly Weasley. "I don't quite see how that's any of your business anymore."
Ron's face feel, and Hermione felt a twinge in her heart at his expression. "Ron, I'm so–"
"Granger."
Hermione, agitated at having been interrupted, turned to the blond Slytherin, wondering what on earth he could want to speak with her about. He was wearing a wicked smile that sent shivers down her spine. "What, Malfoy?" she spat, trying not to let him get to her.
He staggered back, clutching his heart. "You wound me, Granger. Is that any tone of voice to have with your first?" he grinned, knowing she would realize instantly what he was talking about.
The young witch's eyes narrowed and she stomped toward him. She brought her hand back to slap him, but was stopped by his voice. "This is how it started last time, if I recall," he whispered so that only she could hear.
Feeling a blush spread across her face, she lowered her hand and turned to storm away, but came face-to-neck with Harry, instead. "That's twice you've said something like that, Malfoy," he said quietly, a hint of a threat in his voice. "I suggest you don't say it again."
Hermione looked up at her friend and felt relief for an instant.
Only an instant, however, because Malfoy had started to speak again.
"I only speak the truth, Potter. Now, I wonder if you're mad because I shagged her first, or because she hasn't told you about it yet?" he asked, his voice sweet as venom. "I mean you three are as close as three peas in a pod, aren't you?"
Hermione, still looking up into Harry's eyes, saw his expression falter at Malfoy's words. Don't listen to him. Don't let this be the first time in your life you believe him, Harry.
Her heart rose and then instantly plummeted at his response.
"I trust her, Malfoy," he said forcefully, wrapping a protective arm around her.
Hermione could feel the malicious glee just rolling off Malfoy at Harry's statement. "Alright, Potter, have it your way. But I suggest you sit down with everyone's favorite little witch here and discuss her whereabouts after she broke up with the Weasel," he said nonchalantly. "I'm sure it will be an eye-opening little chat."
Harry looked down at her and their eyes met.
His green eyes widened in shock, and he unwound his arm from her shoulders. "You didn't…" he breathed, stepping back.
"Goyle, put the Weasel down so he can join in on this fun," Malfoy chimed in from behind her.
Hermione was so concentrated on Harry's outraged visage that she barely registered the thunk of Ron hitting the ground.
"Harry, I'm sorry," she whispered, effectively confirming his suspicions.
Shaking his head, the Boy-Who-Lived continued to back away, as if she were a horrible thing he couldn't stand to be around.
"What's going on?" Ron asked, stepping up beside Harry, looking between his best friend and his former girlfriend.
The lost look on Harry's face was more than enough to undo her. He just stared at her like he didn't know who she was. "Nothing, Ron. Let head back to the Burrow," he sighed, turning and walking away, every part of his body language defeated.
With one last perplexed look at Hermione, Ron turned and followed Harry out the door yelling for him to wait up and explain what happened.
"You see, Granger, the price that betrayal carries?" Malfoy whispered into her ear, his voice sad.
Suddenly seeing red, Hermione spun around and smacked him.
"You bastard!" she screamed, as she started trying to punch him, but in the end, only managed to pound weakly on his chest as her grief overcame her. "How could you…" she whispered through her tears as she fell into his chest and hung on for dear life.
If he had known there would be a crying female clinging to his two hundred galleon shirt at the end of the fiasco, he never would have said anything in the first place.
But now, looking around at the near empty pub – there were two people passed out at a table in the corner, and Tom, who Draco knew he could pay to keep quiet about the whole thing – he severely regretted taking his frustration out on Granger.
Tentatively, he wrapped his arms around her and started patting her on the back awkwardly, like had seen other people do when they were trying to comfort people.
It wasn't anything he had ever actually done before.
"I'm sorry."
The words were out of his mouth before he could stop them, and it seemed as if time stopped because of them.
She looked up at him, her eyes wide and red, her cheeks all puffy and blotchy, and stared at him, disbelieving.
He couldn't understand why he would have said that, and he really didn't understand this sudden urge to kiss her and make her see that it would be okay.
So he did the only thing he could think of.
"Now that I have humiliated myself, would you kindly let go of my shirt?" he asked, trying to be as snooty as possible.
It had the desired effect, seeing as she let go of him like she had been burned.
"Go to hell you little ferret," she spat, grabbing her wand and apparating out of the pub with a 'snap.'
Looking at Goyle, who was still staring at him wide-eyed, Draco shook his head tiredly. "What a wonderful summer this is going to be," he sighed, rubbing the bridge of his nose.
Hermione collapsed onto her bed, pulled a pillow over her head, and screamed.
I can't believe I almost kissed him!
With another sigh, she threw the pillow off the bed stared at her ceiling again.
Unlike most girls her age, her walls were relatively unadorned, except for a few pictures of her friends and family.
Most of her walls were covered in bookshelves, which were in turn covered in books.
She knew that she wouldn't find any comfort in her books, however.
"I almost kissed him," she whispered.
"Who did you almost kiss?"
Hermione sat up in bed, her mother's voice causing her a mild shock. "No one, mum. It was no one."
With a disbelieving smile, her mother nodded. "Sure it was. Lunch is ready if you're hungry."
The younger Granger nodded and followed her mother to the dining room.
He's no one. He has to be.
Goyle knew something had just happened.
He also knew that what had just happened, couldn't have happened.
It was like violating natural law.
Things like this just didn't happen.
The large boy knew he wasn't the fastest broom in the shed, but he was a tack smarter and a lot more observant than people gave him credit for.
Still, there was no way what he just observed could have ever occurred.
Draco almost…No. This is Draco Malfoy.
He wouldn't even think about…
There was a pause in his mental train as he took in the appearance of his friend.
All this wondering wasn't getting him anywhere, so he decided to vocalize his musings, knowing Draco's response would either confirm or deny it.
"You almost kissed her."
This seemed to snap the blond out of his stupor. The Prince turned to him, wide-eyed. "Shut up. I did not," he said in a huff, grabbing his suitcase and storming up the stairs.
Shite.
He almost kissed her.
Author's Note
Sorry about taking so long to get this one up. Work has hell.
Please, review! They are the lifeblood of the author!
Thank you for reading.
-Damien