Chapter 8: Lies in the Timeline

October melts into November, which brings even more progress. By mid-November, Hermione had mastered occlumency. Along with blocking Draco's attempts to break into her mind, clearing her head each night allows sleep without nightmares. Draco and Hermione need to start strategizing about what they're going to do with Voldemort's ultimatum. However, with the mountain of homework only growing, they justify putting it off a bit to finish their assignments. Saturday after Saturday, they sit in the Room of Requirement working on homework assignments in peaceful company. After the horrors they both remember of the war, this safe haven of school work feels like a balm they can't easily give up. And just like that, November fades away as well.

"Mr. Potter, Miss Granger," Professor Slughorn says as the class files out. Harry and Hermione exchanged looks, but turn to the potion's master. "I am having a small sorei to celebrate the holidays," he says, producing two invitation. "It would be wonderful for you to join us." The students take them and rush out of the room.

"What did Slughorn want?" Ron asks the second they meet him outside the classroom.

"He's doing some holiday party," Harry answers. Hermione's thoughts stray for a second to the other timeline and how Ron got so upset about not being invited. Perhaps she can avoid that this time around.

"Will you go with me?" she blurts out. Both boys turn to her with confusion. "The invitation is for me and a guest. And...and...will you go with me?" Ron's mouth drops open as he stares. Meanwhile Harry seems to be trying to slip away. Suddenly, Ron's jaw snaps shut, eyes narrowing.

"Do you think I'm some charity, Hermione?" Ron challenges.

"Ron…"

"So now you want to spend time with me? You've been running off and hiding away every weekend, leaving me by myself. But now...NOW you want me to go to some party with you and pretend you haven't been acting odd and disappearing off the map all this time. You know what, Hermione? Sod off." Ron turns on his heels and marches away.

Hermione's lips part as he storms away, confusion mixing with the past episodes of abandonment in her chest. She can rationalize it. Think about how they haven't gotten together yet, how he doesn't know that she loves him. But the pain remains.

A gentle hand touches her shoulder and turns the witch towards him. Hermione throws her arms around Harry and he holds her close. Perhaps if he hugs her tight enough, everything will stop falling apart.

"Hermione, forget about Ron. You know how he works himself up about things," Harry says, patting her back. "But is something going on? You have been gone a lot. You can talk to me. You know that, right?"

"Harry…" Her voice breaks and she notice the tears flowing steadily down her face. What can she even tell him? "My parents," she chokes out. "They...they're gone." He pulls back to look at her.

"What happened?"

"De...Death Eaters," she sobs and he pulls her back to him.

"Oh Hermione."

"I've just been trying to get away from it all. I disappear to work on homework and to do it alone. It's easier doing it like that and focusing on it. It's the only time that...that the guilt isn't crushing me," she confesses, realizing every word of it is true. Being with Draco, someone who knows what happened, someone who remembers, somehow alleviates the guilt of losing them. He reminds her why she came back, with just his presences because he's the one person who really understands.

"Hermione, why didn't you say something?"

"I...I didn't know how to. I didn't want to talk about it."

"Alright. It's going to be okay." She wipes away the tears and they walk back together. Her confession lifting a bit of the weight on her shoulders.

"Blimey," Ron whispers, sinking down to sit on his bed. Harry nods, wishing Hermione had been the one to tell him about her parents-but he couldn't deny her request.

"That's why Hermione has been so odd, lately," Harry continues. "Go easy on her, mate. And why not go with her to Slughorn's thing tonight." Ron's back stiffens.

"How long?"

"How long what?"

"How long has her parents been gone?" Ron asks, turning slightly red as he looks to Harry.

"She didn't say."

"She should have told us, come to us," he insists.

"Maybe, but that's her decision," Harry replies.

"I would have gone to her," the redhead continues, "thought I could. But if she doesn't trust us…"

"It's not that," he sighs, running a hand through his hair.

"Then what is it?" Ron asks. Before Harry answers, he continues, "It doesn't matter. Me and Lav are together again so I'm not going with her to some party." At Harry's pleading look, he cuts his friend off, "And not even as friends. If that's what we are…" Ron sighs. "It's bloody horrible about her parents, but I can't…" Ron flops back onto his bed. Harry nods and sighs before going down to the common room, alone.

"No Ron," he mutters, meeting Hermione. She swallows the lump in her throat.

"Did you…?"

"Yeah, he just...He'll get over it. Come on." Harry leads Ginny and Hermione out the Gryffindor Tower and to Slughorn's party.

Twenty or so students mill around the room, speaking to those they know. Ginny has yet to let go of Harry's arm in the fifteen minutes since they entered. She seems to need to carry on a constant conversation with him and only him. Hermione rolls her eyes as Ginny shifts to yet another subject matter.

Hermione scans the room again for a possible student to hang out with, but the emptiness bubbling in her stomach makes her want to crawl back into bed with a book and write the whole things off.

"Hermione?" Harry asks, looking at her. Ginny also regards the other witch over her shoulder, slightly exasperated at putting her 'discussion' on hold.

"My stomach is just bothering me. I think I'm going to go lay down," Hermione replies.

"Do you want us to go with you?" he asks, ever thinking of others. Ginny's eyes widen for a split second before narrowing at her.

"No," she shakes her head. "I'll be fine. Have fun." She waves and heads out of the room.

Once away from all the people, Hermione wanders the halls. Despite her need to leave, she wasn't ready to return to the common room (and maybe run into Ron). She walks the more empty paths, knowing there will be people out on a Friday evening.

Along a hallway of unused classrooms, she hears a moan. How many moans had she heard like that on the battlefield, their last breath and all they can do in moan in pain? Hermione slams open the door, wand in hand. Immediately she freezes, taking in the scene.

Lavender, with only a bra on top, is stilling on a desk. Between her legs, Ron leans into her. His shirt is untucked and open. Both of their robes lie discarded on the ground. His lips skim up her neck. Lavender lets out a giggle as she sees Hermione, pulling Ron closer as if to cover her up. Ron looks at the intruding witch shocked for a second, but then Hermione turns and runs out of there. Feet pounding against the ground, pushing her away from her once lover and his lover.

Ron's hand closes around her biceps and turns her towards him.

"What was that about, 'Mione?"

"I…I didn't know," she stumbles, avoiding looking at him. His hair is messy, shirt still open.

"Well I'd appreciate it, if you didn't tell anyone about it," he states.

"Tell anyone?"

"About me and Lav," he clarifies. "Parents tend to get all odd about those things. I know Mum would send me a howler if she knew I had relations with a witch."

"Relations?" she squeaks. "How long?" She has to know-did she do this?

"Well," he says, turning slightly pink. "No long, once at the end of last year and a bit of this one. You won't tell anyone, right?" He's pleading, but she can't feel his hand on her arm. Her knuckles are white against the wand she didn't realize she was still gripping. Hermione nods and he looks relieved.

"See you later," he says, turning to head back. Hermione stumbles away, 'Once at the end of last year,' echoing in her head. Panic rises in her chest, an odd sense of betrayal twisting her heart and weighing down her lungs. Her feet carry her away from the couple, aimlessly wandering in another direction. 'I can't sleep in the same room as that..as that...girl,' Hermione thinks, shivering at the thought before deciding to go to the only safe haven she knows.

The Room of Requirement opens to a room with a large bed in the center and a couple of books on a nightstand. A small trunk reveals a tank top and sleeping shorts. Hermione changes into pajamas and settle into the bed.

"Granger?" A voice reaches calls out to the witch through a fog. "Granger, is that you? What are you doing?" Each sounds pulls her closer to the voice.

"Draco?" she questions, swimming through layers of blankets and softness, not quite conscious. Belatedly she realizes she's found the edge of the bed as she falls into an undignified heap on the floor.

"Granger," Malfoy scold and rushes to her side. With offered hand, he pulls the witch to her feet. His eyes skim over her, scrutinizing. Hermione looks down to see if she's spilt something on her uniform only to see shorts shorter than those altered skirts and a fitted cotton tank top without a bra.

Shrieking, she jumps back and grabs the duvet off of the bed. Hermione holds it in front of her, a barrier between her skin and Malfoy's eyes. When she look back at the wizard, he's looking away, a slight blush coloring his sharp cheekbones.

"What are you doing here?" she asks.

"It's Saturday," he defends, eyes straying to hers before looking away again. "You weren't at breakfast so I figured you were getting an early start today. Why were you sleeping in here?" His voice is harsh. She would have mistaken it for angry only a few months before, but she knows better now. It is merely a tactic to redirect embarrassment, more accustomed to attacking than defending.

"I…" her voice slips away as her throat closes. "Ron," is all she chokes out before a sob breaks though of her chest.

"Hermione?" His eyes searched her face, with eye wide and brows furrowed. He steps forward, hands ghosting inches from the witch as if afraid she might collapse.

"It's just…" Another sob steals her words.

"Spit it out."

"It's nothing," she forces through her lips angrily.

"Are you going to tell me or do I need to see for myself?" he asks, cockiness evident in his very stance.

"I…" Thoughts of last night flood through her mind and she can't focus enough on the wizard in from of her to comprehend his words. She takes a step back.

"Ready?" he asks, but she merely look at him confused. "One, two…"

The room is replaced by Ron and Hermione in their own room in the tent. He is hovering over her on the bed, nothing between them and not even a blanket thrown over. He smiles.

Hermione throws Malfoy out of her mind with such force that he stumbles back. He has the good grace to look shocked.

"I-" he starts.

"What was that?" she cuts in. Duvet wrapped around her, she stares with fire in her eyes-a force to be reckoned with.

"I asked if you were ready?"

"I...I didn't know what you meant. Are you happy now?" she throws back.

"Only more confused. What was that about?"

"What, not going to steal away into my mind again?"

"Why are you so mad, Granger?"

"Because he told me I was the first," she shouts into his face, taking a step forward as if she would hit him like third year.

"What?" Malfoy looks utterly lost. Hermione sits on the ground in a heap reminiscent to the one he helped her out of a few minutes earlier, feeling the energy drain away.

"He was my first," she says with tears sliding down her face. "And he said I was his too, but...but that was a lie. I found him with Lavender last night. That's why I'm here." She finally brings herself to look at him. Malfoy's eyes look to the side, the gears turning away in his head. This it clicks. His eyebrows raise and eyes widen, looking back to the witch when the scene from her memory and her words come together to paint a picture of the years they spent on the run as a couple.

"It could be because of the time line shifts. Maybe it was true before," he rationalizes. She shakes her head.

"No. He…he said the first time was at the end of last year. That was before we came back. It was always a lie." She hiccups at the end, tears fading, but leaving a sadness behind.

"Well…" Malfoy starts, "we best get started on our homeworks. Snape was particularly cruel with the assignment this time. On top of the two foot essay, we have to practice that curse and how to work it into a duel."

"Malfoy, I really just want to be alone," she says. He looks down at her, almost amused.

"So?"

"Malfoy-" she starts, patience gone.

"Granger, I need to practice. Won't you help me? I mean who else is going to be able to match me," he adds with an arrogant grin. She rolls her eyes and stands.

"Fine, just let me get changed."

"Come on," he jeers. "I've already seen it, no need to change." She sends a slight stinging hex at him as she gathers her clothes and disappears into a small door that appears off to one side that says 'DRESSING' across the top. He chuckles as she closes the door.