You lucky things, here's a nice long chapter. A bit out of season but hey.
We're coming up to a time when I really need to hear your opinions on where you think this should go. Obviously I have a story outline and the next two chapters, but they're pretty heavy with talking and emotion rather than action. Do you think there is enough/not enough action? Is the pace of their relationship too slow? Are the characters convincing? Please review and tell me what you think, because I'm writing this for all of your, after all :)
DISCLAIMER: Not mine, but I'm grateful for the chance to meddle.
'Come on Hermione, you need a break.'
Hermione looked up from the table in the kitchen of Number 12, Grimmauld Place to see Ginny standing before her holding two cups of tea. 'I still haven't finished this paperwork, I need—'
'Tea,' Ginny finished for her. 'Hermione, it's Christmas Eve. Stop working. We haven't had a lead on Gormen for weeks, there's nothing more we can do, except wait until he makes another move. In the mean time, try to relax. And celebrate! It's Christmas!'
It had been three months and sixteen days since Hermione had left Draco's apartment, and in that time she had seen him only once. Titus Gormen had confirmed their suspicions and launched a small-scale attack on a local Wizarding hospital near Godric's Hollow. All available Aurors were sent out to counter the uprising – they were not needed anywhere else and Harry, as chief, just wanted it over as quickly as possible. During the clean-up operation Hermione caught sight of a white-blond head whipping around a corner and ran to where she thought he was, but he had already Disapparated. That was six weeks and two days ago now, but she still thought about him every day. Her anger had cooled, and she was beginning to realise that she had reacted too strongly and too quickly. But she still maintained that everything she had said was true, and her pride forced her to wait until he made the first move.
But it's been so long. Maybe he doesn't want to make a move at all. She sighed mentally and took the cup of tea Ginny was offering her.
'Put the files away,' Ginny urged.
'But there may be something—' Hermione caught the look in Ginny's eyes, looked at the files, looked at her tea, and looked back at the files again. 'Fuck it?'
'Fuck it,' Ginny smiled, as Hermione pushed them all off the table onto the floor.
'Does Molly want us to cook anything for tomorrow?' Hermione asked. They were taking a break from tradition this year, hosting Christmas Day at Grimmauld Place instead of the Burrow for the first time ever. But Molly Weasley, adamant that if she were not to host Christmas proper, she would at least cook everything, had been permitted to arrange all the food.
'No, you know her. You make anything, she'll think it's a hint that she's inadequate. Drinks, that's all we're good for. Although I want to make something more child-friendly for dessert than Christmas pudding.'
'Do you need any help?'
'Stop finding excuses and go to bed, you need an early night!' Ginny scolded jokingly. 'You're as bad as Victoire.'
'Speaking of which, are the little madam's eating habits still as picky as ever?'
'Yes. She still refuses to eat anything if it's touching anything else. Honestly, she won't even eat soup unless you tell her it's only made of one thing. Bill has had to convince her that cake is a single ingredient! Tomorrow will be a nightmare, I'm sure. At least pigs in blankets are all pork.'
Hermione laughed as she left the kitchen and climbed the stairs to her room, grateful for the chance of an early night. She knocked on Harry's study door on her way up, but no one answered. He must be working late, she thought.
After finishing her tea, brushing her teeth, washing her face and wrapping up the final presents, Hermione collapsed into bed. She fell asleep almost immediately, and for the first time since September 9th, she did not dream of Malfoy.
She was woken by the sun, filtering in through the gaps in her blinds. She blinked her eyes sleepily and looked at her watch – 9:45. She had a shower and flipped through her wardrobe, wondering what would be nice enough to celebrate her first Magical Christmas in years. It had expanded considerably from the one outfit Draco bought her. Some old things of Ginny's, work robes, the (very) occasional treat, and it was almost indistinguishable from any normal wardrobe. But nothing quite suitable for Christmas Day, save the dress he had bought her. Sighing, she slipped it on. After three months of good eating and running around her figure had noticeably filled out, but the dress only looked better for it. It fitted perfectly, and she couldn't remember when she had last looked so… smart! She smiled. Pinning her hair up simply, she took her wand and carefully levitated the pile of presents she had prepared downstairs.
'Happy Christmas!' she cried, entering the kitchen. Harry and Ginny were at the table, in front of a roaring log fire, while Kreacher fried bacon and eggs. 'No one else has arrived yet?'
'Hermione!' Harry stood up and hugged her. 'Merry Christmas! The guests should be arriving from ten onwards. And Molly said dinner will be ready for five, so we'd better eat enough now if we're going to last.'
Ginny hugged her too, whispering in her ear as she did so. 'That dress looks more beautiful now than it ever did. He had good taste.'
Hermione just smiled slightly and filled her plate for breakfast.
Even though the large living room was designed for parties, seven Weasleys plus their families made it seem much smaller. Charlie and Bill were the only two to have children, but four toddlers running around was plenty. Bill and Fleur's eldest, Victoire, was watching Charlie and his wife Mary's twin boys with disdain as they shrieked and hurtled around the tree, and her sister Emmanuelle was copying her, as per usual.
Hermione was on the sofa, happily drinking coffee and chatting with George and Ron. No one could make her laugh like those two. They even managed to make her forget about Draco.
'Hey, my mug's empty. Does anyone want some more tea?' George offered, leaving the sofa. Ron moved over to sit next to Hermione.
'Merry Christmas,' he smiled.
'Merry Christmas,' she returned.
Ron looked at his hands, twisting his thumbs together, and then reached over to take Hermione's. His voice was halting, and he didn't meet her eyes. 'Hermione, I know that it's been a long time since we saw each other, and I know that whatever happened during that time, you don't want to talk about it. But, whatever it was, I hope it wouldn't…' He trailed off, and then tried again. 'What I mean to say is, I hope that some day, perhaps you'll be ready to pick up where we left off?'
Hermione smiled, and leaned over to kiss his cheek. 'I loved you, Ron,' she said quietly. 'I really, really did. And I hate myself because I know that if I hadn't run away I think we might have worked. But I couldn't stay in that life, and I've changed so much since then. I don't think I'm ready for anyone yet, not after those two years and not after Draco.'
Ron looked crestfallen, but nodded. 'When you turned up on Harry's doorstep, you said you didn't want to tell us about it. But what did Draco do, Hermione? What was so terrible that you're still this hurt by it? He's not like he used to be, I work with him everyday. I'm not defending him, deep down I still can't shake the idea that it's Malfoy, and I doubt we'll ever be friends. But maybe it's all a misunderstanding?'
Hermione's eyes hardened. 'He knew perfectly well what he was doing, and what it meant to me. And someday I will tell you, because I'm tired of keeping secrets from my best friends. But please, Ron, not today. It's Christmas. I want to eat my weight in turkey and chocolate and open presents and drink you under the table.'
'I'll drink to that!' Ron laughed. 'Just as long as you're ok.'
'I'm fine. I'm wonderful,' Hermione smiled, genuinely.
'Right. Then let's celebrate!'
As far as Hermione was concerned, everything was perfect. She had the biggest pile of presents she could remember, including the obligatory Weasley jumper. It was as if she was a kid again, pulling crackers and playing Twister and beating Harry soundly in a snowball fight in the back garden. Molly trumped herself at dinner, providing not only a turkey big enough for ten people, but also a goose, which Hermione had never tried before. Two plates and a huge slice of Christmas pudding later, she was relaxing in front of the fire, her head in Ron's lap and eggnog in hand, surrounded by comatose Weasleys. Even the children had fallen asleep.
'This is my favourite part of Christmas,' Ginny murmured, and a few sleepy grunts agreed with her.
Suddenly, the fire flared green. They all glanced up, wondering who would be flooing on Christmas Day. Kingsley Shacklebolt stepped into the living room..
'Kingsley!' Harry exclaimed. 'Would you like a mince pie?'
'No time,' Kingsley interrupted. 'There's been an attack. Thirty Death Eaters, in a Muggle village.'
Everyone bolted upright. Fleur and Mary scooped up their children and led them upstairs. Harry gestured for Kingsley to continue.
'It was some sort of traditional gathering, some Pagan tradition or something. I didn't understand. Emergency Response made it in time to prevent any deaths, but four Muggles are currently in St Mungo's and we've had to Obliviate fifty. No one was captured. We need to investigate and arrange a counter attack as soon as possible.'
'When was this?' Harry asked, astounded.
'About an hour ago, 7:32. You're the first to know, this is the first chance we've had to tell anyone.'
'Right, well what can we do?'
'Here's what we know at the moment,' Kingsley said, handing Harry a slim document. 'Draco Malfoy will be here tomorrow to arrange the counter operation.'
'Malfoy?' Hermione asked, a little too quickly.
'Yes, he was the chief Emergency Response Auror. He collated that file. He would be here now, but he's being checked for injuries. I have to go now.' Kingsley paused, softening. 'I'm sorry to bring you news like this, especially today.'
'Don't be,' Ginny comforted. 'We're just so grateful that no one was killed. Are the Muggles going to be ok?'
'St Mungo's hasn't given us a report yet,' Kingsley replied, stepping into the flames and vanishing.
Harry, Ginny, Ron and Hermione were seated around the kitchen table, steaming mugs of tea in their hands. None of them spoke – the implications of Kingsley's news were just settling in.
After a long time, Hermione broke the silence. 'Kingsley said that Draco will be coming around tomorrow.'
Harry glanced at Ginny, who nodded encouragingly. 'Yes. If he was the chief E.R.A. then he'll be the best person to plan a counter.'
Hermione breathed out slowly. 'Could I… could I opt out of this?' she asked tentatively.
'Well yeah, technically–' started Ron, but Harry interrupted him.
'No. We need you, Hermione. Look at the file.'
Hermione flicked to the first page. 'Suspected leader: Titus Gormen?'
'Exactly,' Ginny agreed. 'This is the lead you've been waiting for, Hermione! No one knows as much about Gormen as you. We really need you on this.'
Hermione knew that she should help them. She knew that it was silly to refuse to help her friends over some insignificant thing that happened months ago. But it was not insignificant to her, and she could not bring herself to work with Draco. She had accustomed herself to forgetting about him, pushing him from her mind whenever he popped up. Why should she have to endure seeing him again? Why couldn't she be selfish, for just once?
'I know, I know you're right,' she faltered. 'But… to be honest, it's Malfoy. I can't work with him.'
'Hermione, remember what I said earlier,' Ron said. 'What could he possibly have done to offend you to the point of refusing to help your friends on a matter of public and Muggle safety? These are Death Eaters! Please, can't you put your pride away for one minute?'
'Well there's no need to have a go at me,' Hermione huffed. 'You know, Ron, when I turned up on this doorstep and asked to stay, you said – you all said – that you would respect the fact that I don't want to tell you everything. Why would you go back on that?'
Harry quickly reached his hand out to hers, seeing she was near tears. 'Of course we respect your wishes, and we're not asking you to tell us anything. But we need to work with Draco on this. Ron's right, if blunt.' Ron looked abashed. 'Your pride is getting in the way of you moving on.'
There was a long pause, before Ginny spoke, calmly and quietly. 'I think you should tell them, Hermione. They're not going to stop until they know. And maybe it's time you told them, it'll help all of us.'
Hermione sighed. 'Fine. I guess if Ginny knows, you may as well too. I'll start from the beginning, so you're not too shocked when I get to the real point of all of this.'
'After school, everything was wonderful. Voldemort was dead, we had graduated properly, people were getting their lives back on track, we were all generally celebrating. After two years, I realised I wanted normality and real job. As you know, I applied for a job at the Ministry, and I worked there for three months. Then I quit, but not for the reasons I gave you. Everyone resented me there. I wasn't just being paranoid. They were furious that the Ministry had been wrong, and three teenagers had done their job better than they had. All my colleagues thought that the only reason I had my job was because of my connections with Harry. I couldn't stand it. I looked all over for a job that would employ me for me, but they all wanted the privilege of having Harry's right-hand lady on their workforce. Oh no, I don't resent you at all!' she said hurriedly, seeing the look in Harry's eyes. 'It was understandable of them, and I really honestly never resented you for it. I was just getting really sick of the Wizarding world in general, so I started going to the Muggle world more often. I got a flat in Muggle London, and found a job in a bookstore. And I didn't contact any of you, I made my flat Unplottable, and I gave up magic entirely. I was sick of it. And I knew you might be worried, but I figured you'd realise I'm able to take care of myself. I was 21, after all.
'It was at the bookstore that I met Malcolm. He was the manager. He was funny and confident and charming and, best of all, he didn't know anything about my background. I moved in with him, and for three months everything was wonderful. I almost forgot about magic entirely. I would go for days without even thinking 'Colloportus' at the bathroom door, or 'Evanesco' if I spilled the milk.
'But after almost two years, I had to move out. I had nowhere to go. So I… I went to a place I had heard about, from a war victim. She said she lived there, and even if it wasn't ideal, at least it was a roof over her head and it was cheap. I found it, one year and one month ago. I stayed there until Draco found me while looking for someone else, and he took me back to his apartment. Together with Ginny, we found the person he was actually looking for. And Draco and I… he said…' Hermione had to take a deep breath to continue. 'We became friends, and then he kissed me. And it wasn't what he said, but more what he implied, that if I were ever ready, he would be there for me. But I said I wasn't, and two hours later I walked in on him and that girl, together, and I left. I couldn't take it.'
Ginny hugged her friend tightly as Hermione's tears began to flow. Harry and Ron looked concerned, but also confused.
Harry spoke first. 'Where was this place, where you stayed? Who was Draco looking for?'
Hermione could only shake her head into Ginny's shoulder, so Ginny spoke for her. 'Hermione was in a brothel.'
The two men gasped, and Ron swore violently, looking to Hermione for confirmation. 'You what?'
Hermione silently nodded.
'Why the fuck were you in a brothel?' He shouted. 'What the hell were you thinking? You said you had nowhere to go, the fuck you did! We were here all the time, what about us? We're more than your friends, we're your family, and you go and spend months selling yourself to scum?'
Hermione was completely taken aback at Ron's anger, and sat up suddenly. She didn't notice that Ginny was motioning for Harry to leave with her, or that her other best friend shot several worried glances at the two of them as he retreated. 'I really did have nowhere to go. And I'm sorry I can't tell you why. Things didn't work out with Malcolm, and I'm still trying to come to terms with that. I was left in the Muggle world, and I don't know if you know what happens when a witch or wizard doesn't use magic for a long time, but let me tell you. I lost it. I could barely levitate anything, my Lumos was weaker than it had ever been, and forget about defensive spells. In the end I broke my wand. Because then there would be a reason why I couldn't perform magic. And I went to the brothel.'
Ron was still angry. 'I can't believe that you think so little of us that, whatever it was, you couldn't trust us to welcome you back and love you and tell you that it doesn't matter. It doesn't matter Hermione! Whatever the reason was for you going there, it wasn't good enough!'
'Please Ron, I need you to help me on this. I need you to understand that I'm not ready to tell you everything, and that at the time I honestly was doing what I thought was best for me and… for everyone. I look back on it now and I hate myself for thinking it was an adequate alternative, but it's done. Even if I do regret it. Please don't make me drag it back up again, I've had enough of telling myself I did the wrong thing. I know I did. I don't need you telling me that as well.'
Ron's anger melted at the look on Hermione's face. A tear was rolling down her cheek, and her eyes remained fixed on her lap. Silently he reached over and took her hand. 'I'm sorry. I sorry I reacted like that. But Hermione, I can't accept the idea that you willingly went to a… a place like that. What happened, that made you give up on us? Because you lost your magic?'
Hermione shook her head. 'I was ashamed of that, yes. But that wasn't the whole reason. Please don't ask me to tell you, I have to say no.' She looked up and met his eyes. They were burning with an emotion she had never seen there before – desperation and pity and the most powerful love she had ever seen. 'You…' she whispered, but something in her own face must have given her away because Ron leaned over and kissed her. Just like that.
He was gentle, at first, but as he deepened the kiss she was powerless to resist. Her mind was screaming no, and she tried to push him away, but she was too weak. Seconds past, seeming like hours. Ron broke away, and held her face in his hands, looking deep into her eyes.
'You need love, don't you?' he asked. 'Let me love you, Hermione.'
'Ron, please don't do that again.' She took his hands and lifted them away from her.
Ron looked confused. 'Hermione, it's obvious that you need someone to love you, after all that time. I don't know who this Malcolm guy is, or what he did, but you need the type of love that only I can give you. You know it in your heart.'
'Who are you to tell me what I know?' Hermione stood up swiftly. 'Maybe what I need most right now is some time to myself. Some space without having to share a single bed with three other girls, or a lecherous old man. Some time to think about what I want to do now I have to rebuild my life again. What about that?' she challenged, as she swept out of the kitchen.
