CHAPTER FIFTEEN

'You can't force love, I realized. It's there or it isn't. If it's not there, you've got to be able to admit it. If it is there, you've go to do whatever it takes to protect the ones you love.'
~Richelle Mead, Frostbite~

Hermione didn't want to leave her bed. It was Sunday, so she wasn't supposed to have work, but they were short staffed so Joy had asked her to pick up a few hours. She called in sick and pulled the covers back over her head. She was technically sick, anyway. Love sick. Confused sick. Something sick. She wasn't in any state of mind to shelve books or help anyone find what they were looking for. Or give any book recommendations to customers. She'd probably end up sending everyone to the self help section with a lecture about never falling in love. Not that she was in love.

With Ron. Or Draco.

Crookshanks stepped on her leg as he continued his upward hike to her face. When he reached there, he meowed- his breath stinking of fish. She crinkled her nose and shoved him. This didn't deter him and he was back moments later, meowing and bumping his head into hers. She groaned, "Go away."

"Hermione?" Her mum's voice questioned from the hallway. "What are you doing home?"

"I'm never leaving my bed ever again." She declared, giving Crookshanks another push. "No matter what you say."

"Hermione-"

"I mean it!" She cut off, but her words came out muffled by the pillow, so she didn't know what her mum heard.

There was silence and then she felt the bottom of her bed dipping and she realised her mum had joined her on the bed. "Okay," She groaned, stretching back until she was lying on the bed. Hermione curled into a ball as her mum's arm wrapped around her over the blankets. "What is going on?"

"I hate boys," She muttered. "But other than that, everything is just spiffy."

"Boys, huh?" Her mum laughed. "Let me take a wild guess which ones."

"Please don't," She moaned, not feeling up to discussing it. Crookshanks let out a clipped meow and hopped off the bed, probably to go wake up her father and demand for food again. "Really, I just want to lie here and wallow in whatever this is."

"My daughter does not wallow," Her mum said, as if the word physically wounded her.

"She does today. At least for a few hours." She managed to get a few more hours of sleep in and when she woke up for the second time, she glanced at the digital clock on the nightstand. The red numbers told her it was noon. She sat up, stretching, satisfied to see she was alone. No cameras, no cat, and no parents.

She slipped out of bed and padded around the freezing room in her skimpy pyjamas. She turned off the air conditioner and pulled on one of Ron's oversized sweatshirts. It didn't really smell like him anymore since it kind of become hers over the last few months, but it still comforted her as if he were holding her. After that she pushed open her window to let some fresh air into the room.

Downstairs she found a note telling her that her parents had gone food shopping. That was what they did on Sundays anyway, so there was nothing odd about that. Plus, her dad's convention was tomorrow, so they were probably picking up extra pairs of socks and travel sized toothpaste or whatever it was he needed. She made herself toast and did the crossword from yesterday's paper.

She was alone- besides Crookshanks curled up on the couch. She didn't know what to do. She hadn't been alone in weeks. They had a reprieve from shooting commitments on Sundays- unless they made plans beforehand. She enjoyed the silence for awhile, but she couldn't stop her brain from reminding her why she had stayed in bed longer than usual.

It wasn't just Draco that was confusing her. It was Ron. And it had nothing to do with what Draco was doing. But sometimes the tiny things Ron did annoyed her. Things she never really liked, but never used to bother her. She never used to mind that he clipped his toenails in the sink but didn't wash them away. But now, if she walked into his bathroom and found his toenails in the sink, it irked her to no end. And when he'd open a container and then walk away, leaving it opened. Or when he'd not tell her he finished all her dried mangoes and she'd just walk into the kitchen, open the cabinet, and find no dried mangoes. Was it so hard to say, "'Mione, I know dried mangoes are your favourite snack. I finished the last of it, so you need to buy more before your next craving kicks in and you have none." Better yet, why couldn't be buy her a package of it every once in awhile- since he finished it most of the time?

These were all bad signs, right? This couldn't possibly be love! The little things weren't supposed to bother you. They were supposed to drive you crazy- in a good way. At least, that's what she'd read in books. And while Ron did calm her by simply being there, sometimes it just made her feel more on edge. Or he just didn't know what to do. And after eight years he should have understood her a bit better, right?

And then there was the fact that she always felt like the bad guy. Like she had to baby him. She remembered the day at the ice cream parlour at Diagon Alley where she'd had to remind him to swallow before he spoke. She'd spent half her time at Hogwarts reprimanding him for something. What was that about anyway? Had Harry been right? Was she way ahead of Ronald on the maturity scale? Would he ever catch up?

She wished she could switch her brain off. Happily, she found a 'Doctor Who' marathon on BBC and that distracted her. But then it started conjuring up memories of the other monster that had started haunting her thoughts. Draco hadn't seemed at all interested in the premise of the show. He had repeatedly mocked it, in fact and expressed his contempt. If he couldn't respect the awesomeness that was the TARDIS than he clearly did not deserve her attention.

On second thought... neither could Ron. She watched the show with Harry most of the time. This was getting too complicated. She turned to the TV and focused on the old episode they were playing. This one featured the tenth Doctor who was frantically trying to save New York City from the Daleks- his mortal enemy- in the 1930s. She shoved Draco and Ron from her mind and pulled out her phone to text Harry.

10 about to exterminate Daleks.

His response was immediate and it warmed her heart, making her laugh to herself: What else do you think I'm doing? She should have figured he'd already be watching. It was like Harry had a sonar planted in him that detected whenever an episode would be playing. She tossed her phone onto the cushion.

There was a pecking at her window. She got up, finding a Hogwarts owl. Ginny. It was scorching outside when she opened the door to retrieve the letter. The owl fluttered off, apparently not thrilled to be working on a Sunday. She ripped open the letter and tossed the envelope onto the table.

'Mione,

I just heard The Green Ramones added a second London tour stop. I'm so mad I'm stuck at Hogwarts! I want to see Heath Wexley live so bad! His voice makes me want to melt and his eyes! Mione, I can't believe I'm STUCK HERE! I need to marry Heath Wexley. It's like fate- have you SEEN our last names?

Anyway, that wasn't the point of this letter. But really, Heath Wexley! He is a bamf. But I just got wind of the Weasley rumour mill and it turns out you have your own sexy bamf. No, I don't mean my brother. That would be gross. Apparently everyone thought you were getting a wee bit too cozy with Draco Malfoy? Pray tell, sweet sister. What does all this mean? Anyway, who can blame you? He is hot and apparently there must be something goin' on in that brain if you like him. So spill it, because I'm not letting you off the hook. I will owl you every single day until I get a response. And not some shite one liner about loving my brother, because:

1. Hermione, my brother is a bumbling buffoon.

1a. A loveable bumbling buffoon, but still a buffoon. And you, Hermione Jean Granger, deserve a man.

2. Draco Malfoy is a very, very sexy man. And if you like spending time with him, then he must be more than just a very sexy man, even though we all must agree that he is sexy.

And 3. I am the only friend you have that is a woman and not your mum. I am the only person you can gush to this about. Preferably about Draco's sexiness. And I will not judge you one bit.

So, 'Mione, I expect a novel length letter back with juicy details. Are his hands big? Curious. Harry has big hands. Anyway, I miss you and I'll be home in three weeks. If I don't hear from you before then, you will be the proud owner of twenty-one letters by yours truly. SPILL IT.

Love,

Ginny

Hermione tried to suppress a smile, but she couldn't. She missed Ginny, she realised. She hadn't noticed how much until the letter had arrived. She should have known Ginny would always be there for her. It appeared both Harry and Ginny were all for Team Draco, although Hermione wasn't sure why. She didn't know if she wanted to.

It was time to finally tell her parents about university. She narrowed her list down to three schools and had contacted them about possibly applying for the spring term. All the admissions' counsellors she'd spoken to had been perfectly helpful, all eager to tell her what she would need to do to apply in the coming months. She felt confident in her decision, it was right for her. Hermione loved school, there was nothing wrong in continuing to get her undergraduate degree. She had always thought she'd go to university anyway, growing up as a muggle for half her life.

She was going to tell them at dinner. She helped her mom set the table. She had made meatloaf, her dad's favourite, since he'd be leaving early the next morning for his big conference. Crookshanks had plopped himself in the middle of the kitchen and watched the two women fussing around with curious eyes.

Hermione stepped over him and huffed. She carried plates into the living room and caught sight of her dad staring at the tv. He wasn't working on his speech for once, and she wondered if he was nervous. But her dad was good at public speaking, so everything should go fine for him. Back in the kitchen Crookshanks had obviously gotten bored since his orange head was face first in his food bowl licking the bottom. She rolled her eyes at his drama, but poured some more dry food into his bowl.

When the three of them sat down to eat, Crookshanks joined them- curling up under the table and going to sleep. Hermione didn't blurt out her secret right away- she filled her plate with vegetables and took the slice of meat her mum passed her. She waited while her parents did the same and started eating. Her mum started talking about a new dance show coming to town she wanted to watch.

Hermione nodded along, trying to keep calm, but she was anxious. She was expecting them to be excited, since they had also always envisioned her going to uni after secondary school. But of course she had never gone to secondary school. She glanced at the telly where a news anchor was talking about the stock market.

"So, um," She started, catching her parents' attention, "I've decided to go to uni for the spring term. I'd like to study political science." She looked up from her plate and found her parents' eyes plastered on her. She smiled.

"Really?" Her dad pipped up, looking at her with shinning eyes.

She nodded, feeling like a weight had been taken off her. She'd been carrying the secret around for weeks and now she was free. "George gave me the idea to study politics and I wasn't really sure about uni until I sorta just told the Malfoys about it. I've been doing some research and picked out some schools I like."

"Oh, Hermione, that's wonderful." Her mum said, mirroring her dad's expression. "Would you get a job in um... muggle politics?"

"I don't know, yet. It depends. It's just that, in the wizarding world there's all these changes going on since the war and George pointed out to me that all these people in charge don't really have training and that could be why nothing gets done. So I was thinking about getting a degree and then..." She trailed off, unsure where her speech was going. Was she really going to work in the Ministry?

"My daughter, single handedly fixing wizard politics," Her dad, beamed, proud.

She blushed and shovelled a piece of meat into her mouth.

Monday found her back to her old routine. George was alone in the shop when she visited him and, surprisingly, the shop was less crowded than usual. She nicked a box of Jelly Firecrackers- she had no idea what those were- and dropped them on the counter.

George jumped. He smiled at her and then looked at what she'd put the counter. "What do you plan to do with these?"

She shrugged, pulling out a galleon. George hastily shook his head, refusing to accept her money. She groaned, "Take it! I want to pay for it."

"No,"

"Merlin," She rolled her eyes, putting the galleon on the counter. "Don't be so insufferable."

"Insufferable," George sniffed, "that's a big word."

"That's why I used it," She grinned, flicking the galleon. It flew off the countertop and landed somewhere on the floor. She was triumphant, "Ha. You need to keep it now."

George looked down, not seeing the coin. He looked at Hermione and raised one eyebrow before saying, "Accio Hermione's galleon," In a flash the coin appeared back on the table. He returned her triumphant smile and then laughed at her scowl.

"Take the bleeding coin!" They were both stubborn, she had no idea how long this would go on for. Thankfully Angelina came in the store and broke up their squabble, putting the coin in the cash register. George pouted, but it instantly melted away when she kissed him.

They were alone again and Hermione told him about university. He was happy for her, "Can't say I'm very shocked about it."

She grinned, "Yes, yes call me a nerd. I know."

He smiled, pushing his hair out of his face. "You're gonna be great, 'Mione. Did you heed my advice?"

"Oh, heed," She joked, "that's an interesting word."

"More people should use it," He noted.

"But if you must know, yes, I'm going to go into political science, so thank you. But if this fails, I'm blaming you."

"It won't fail." He smiled at her, "You're too bloody brilliant for it to fail."

"Yeah, yeah, okay. Now, onto the real reason I'm here," She paused for dramatic effect and George played along with her. His eyebrows disappeared underneath his red hair that kept falling into his eyes. "A little red birdy told me you're planning to propose to a certain-"

He clamped his hand across her mouth. "Ron told you?" He said through gritted teeth, looking around furiously to make sure Angelina wasn't around. "Ears like a hawk that one," he added, as if that justified his reaction.

She pulled away, "Yes, Ron told me."

George muttered something to himself along the lines of loose lips and little brothers. Hermione nudged him, "This is a good thing. It's gonna be fine, there's no way she'll say no."

"You think? Ron said the same thing, but he still thinks you like it when he touches your feet."

She shivered, before saying, "Yes. She loves you. You two are meant for each other."

George got a faraway look in his eyes and she wondered if he was thinking about Fred and how "perfect" he and Angelina had been. "He'd want you to be happy." Hermione added, softly, touching his arm. "And you both found each other. It's not anything to be guilty about."

He nodded. Moments later a mad smile overcame him and he turned to Hermione, "I'm proposing."

Wilson Betemit looked through the footage. There was an overload of Weasley stuff. They were always with Jenna Boyle. Jenna took them everywhere- car shows, go-carting, mini golf, swimming at a local pool, some card game tournament called Sopio- as if anyone knew what that was. They might have hit a goldmine with the Hermione-Draco-Weasley love shape, but there was something else here.

There was Ron and Jenna. Especially the footage they got recently of Jenna and Ron holding hands all night while Hermione sat dejected with Harry Potter. Maybe that wasn't exactly what had happened, but it was still damaging. This show was turning out to be way more exciting than he ever imagined.

"Sir," The door to his office opened and one of his assistants stuck their head in, "you have a meeting with Jepsen."

Jepsen, Wilson remembered, was the editor of the Prophet. "Send him in," he said, turning his laptop off.

Jepsen walked in, wearing a suit. He walked with a limp, as he had since childhood when he got into a car accident. Jepsen was a halfblood, so he'd grown up with his feet stuck in two worlds. He'd taken over as editor at the Prophet thirteen months ago. He had a lot more comics added than there used to be, but no one was complaining.

"Hello, Jepsen," Wilson said, standing up to shake his hand.

Jepsen greeted him back amiably and pulled out a folder from his briefcase, setting it on the desk. "I understand you wanted press coverage for a debate. What debate is this?"

"Politics, Jepsen. And the elections. And there are some moderators I'd like to... recommend."

A/N I owe you guys so much thanks. Seriously. Chap 14 got the most reviews ever and so many of you were hoping I'd stay safe. Fear not, one week has gone by and I am alive! Still no power, but I HAVE CONQUERED SANDY. Ahem. I hope you guys enjoyed this chapter and you'll review again, since I've been stealing so much wi fi at the library. I've been rereading Harry Potter since there's NOTHING TO DO. I'm slightly losing it. And my NaNo word count is so awful since I have anxiety. Scared of the dark and all. And no hot water. Or Dancing With the Stars. Or Homeland! Really, I don't know what I'm doing without Homeland. My mom misses her hair dryer. And I just play Angry Birds and Scrabble on my Nook. Anyway, I'm talking too much.

I LOVE YOU PEOPLE SO MUCH: ILoveSiriusBlack4, Taylor F, FuryPossesed, alannalove1990, C. Kiss, edwardsoneandonlylove, Jazu-chan13, GottaGetBackUp, asyouwish, Kleptokitten, Loveable Leo, arula, and Guest. If you wrote me anything about the hurricane, I tried to get back to you :D Thanks so much. You made my trips to the library special.