AUTHOR'S NOTES:

If you've read this story previously at the HERMIONE FANON SHIPS FEST LiveJournal site, you'll note that the next few chapters (starting with this one) have some changes made to them. Now that I've had the time to devote to revising this story some, I am able to go back and add in/change details as I wanted to to make this story a more complete, well-rounded one. I hope you enjoy the new material. Leave me a review and let me know!

CHAPTER THIRTEEN

The Ministry of Magic
London, England
November 19, 2003 – Wednesday Morning

Ginny entered my office that morning with a copy of the paper. Silently, she passed it to me, her face grim.

Malfoy Heir To Wed

Astoria positively gloated in the picture below, her arm entwined like a serpent's through Draco's, the other showing off a fecking huge emerald and diamond engagement ring on her left hand. Her fiancé looked his typical gorgeous self – and utterly disinterested with the fanfare of the press release.

He was marrying her to get over me. I knew it as assuredly as I'd known he'd been at my flat the other night waiting for me. That meant he had feelings for me that went deeper than what he'd professed. How deep, I didn't know, but it was enough to push him into that venomous troll's arms. The kiss he'd seen between Daniel and I had most likely been the deciding factor for him; I'd obviously moved on, so he should too, right?

This shouldn't affect me. Draco was a grown man, and if he wanted to make mistakes of epic proportion and bugger up his life then that was his fault. I'd given him a chance and he'd turned me down. I shouldn't care in the least.

But I did.

Worse, I more than cared – I hurt knowing his stubbornness had brought us to this place where neither of us was truly happy.

I put the paper down and pressed my face into my hands, breaking into a full-on fit, complete with muffled screams of frustration and tears of bitter anger. Ginny immediately locked my door, owl'd a memo to her boss that she was out on business, and ran interference on any of my work-related matters for the rest of the day. She ordered us take-away lunch from the Ministry cafeteria, and me a pint of Fortescue's Strawberry-Vanilla Swirl. She stayed with me every step of the way, holding me and letting me get the poison of sharp envy and biting regret out of my system.

I didn't go home until late that night to avoid anyone in the building possibly seeing me in such a state, and with that stupid newspaper firmly in hand. Not even Gin dared take it from my grip.

X~~~~~X

The Ministry of Magic
London, England
November 24, 2003 – Monday Morning-Afternoon

Harry knocked on my door at exactly eleven o'clock with an invite for lunch.

"Ron's not going to be there, is he?" I asked, not in the mood to handle my jealous, slightly-obsessed ex-boyfriend today. Last week had been tough enough, and I didn't relish the thought of kicking off this week with a confrontation of any kind.

My best friend shook his head, and his long, rakishly messy bangs fell across one eye. He pushed them back with a negligent hand. "Just us."

I smiled with relief. "Let me get my coat and purse."

It had been months since Harry and I had hung out, the specter of his and Ginny's breakup looming like a pall over and between everything, making it impossible to be comfortable. I'd supported both of my friends, refusing to play any sort of 'blame game' and take sides, and thankfully, neither of them had deigned to put me in such a position. However, Harry had put space between us to deal with his pain on his own (adopting the typical 'lone wolf syndrome' he'd often fallen back on during our younger days), whereas Ginny had gravitationally orbited me like a twin moon, keeping us both too busy with pet projects and trouble-making to notice the passage of time (which is how I got tangled up with the Muggle nightclub scene to begin with).

I enthusiastically tidied up the stack of papers on my desk, set them aside, gathered my belongings (wand tucked inside my clutch) and took Harry's arm as we made our way to the lifts.

We decided on trying out the new café in Diagon Alley – Le Chat Noir. It served quiches, soup, a selection of pasta and green salads, as well as delicate pastries that the culinary critics in The Daily Prophet had raved over. It's selections of teas from around the world as well as specialized coffees and espressos – introduced to wizarding Britain for the first time – also won customers over, often to the sight of long lines. I hoped we'd get a table, as we were a tad earlier than the usual lunch rush.

We arrived and were fifth in line, talking amicably about anything other than work, when Harry said the one thing that I had dreaded might come up in conversation: "I read the paper. I'm sorry that things didn't work with Malfoy."

Two people ahead of us in line, a tall brunette tilted her head and turned one ear towards us, clearly having heard the infamous last name of my ex-lover, her interest piqued. Shite, I hoped that wasn't a reporter for the gossip columns!

"It's fine," I murmured under my breath, making it clear that I didn't particularly care to have this discussion in public.

Harry stared at me a moment and I swore those piercing green eyes were looking straight through into the very vaults of my heart. He turned his head, looking about, and right away noted the nosey woman, who was hastily reaching into her purse for something. When she pulled out a pad and a self-inking quill, he sighed. "Ah," was all he said in understanding. "I've gone on a couple of dates this last month," he announced a little louder, trying to pull the reporter's attention off of me and my non-relationship with Draco. "They were nice, but nothing serious."

He stopped talking after that, and we waited in silence until it was our turn to be seated. The journalist was, to our relief, seated across the room from us, and after the waitress took our order, Harry took the precaution of charming our table for privacy.

Sitting forward in his chair, he reached across the table and covered my hand with his own. "Really, 'Mione, are you alright?"

I choked back the sob that slowly fought its way up my throat. Pursing my lips, struggling not to let my true feelings show was futile, however, as Harry had been my best friend for too many years and it was hard to hide anything of myself from him. Whatever tic he saw in my features gave me away. He sighed. "Is punching out Draco Malfoy going to be on your Christmas list this year, because I'd be happy to deliver early, if you want."

The offer was so sweet and twisted, and my emotions so frayed that I let out a small hysterical giggle even as tears flooded my eyes. "No," I withdrew my hand from under his, hastily wiped at the leaking fluid before it ruined my tiny bit of make-up. "I'll be fine. I'm just disappointed."

"Can I ask what happened there, or would that be pushing it?" he asked, concerned.

I shrugged one shoulder and took a sip from my water glass. "You have to understand, Harry, that I started a new chapter in my life after Ron. I realized back in May that I hadn't been with him for the right reasons, and I'd stayed because I felt pressured by the unrealistic expectations of myself and others. Everyone kept reiterating that he and I were supposed to be. I'd always trusted that myth as a child because I didn't know any better, and when we got older, after the war, that belief was only reinforced by my parents, his family, our friends, even strangers who read about us in the paper. We were a 'Golden Couple,' they said. It was fate for us to marry, have children, and live happily ever after."

Harry snorted and bitterly smirked. "Yeah, I can intimately relate."

That stopped me. Yes, he could identify, couldn't he? He and Ginny had been touted as the same thing as Ron and I, and they'd both felt the exact same obligation. It was strange how our lives often paralleled, Harry and mine: we were both focused and ambitious creatures (my father would have said we were 'work-obsessed'), and we were both emotionally vulnerable as a by-product of our good intentions. Neither character trait was particularly healthy, however. That's why I'd attempted to change after the break-up with Ron; I'd recognized that I was on a path that would lead me to a lifetime of disappointment, because I'd never achieve every single thing that everyone expected of me. I couldn't please the world, so instead, I'd determined to find out what I needed to make myself happy and be content with that. Hence my (and similarly, Ginny's) little experimental foray into the world of 'soft' BDSM.

To my surprise, I'd actually achieved a goal by taking such a bold step into that strange, new domain: I'd discovered that I had the ability to give up control in a relationship when necessary. The only hitch was that I'd discovered that I was too honest to physically give myself up to another without surrendering my feelings, too. The fact was I couldn't do casual sex; Draco and Daniel both taught me that lesson.

"But the more years that passed, the more Ron and I both knew we weren't right for each other," I forced the painful memories to the surface to face them and to put this demon to rest once and for all. "Cheating with Lavender was his rebellion – and it achieved its aim: to cut the tether that held us both trapped. I don't hate him for it, but I do dislike how he handled it. He broke my trust and faith in him as a friend, not just a lover. I couldn't help but be shook-up by that, as well as by his accusations for our relationship's failure."

"Hermione, he was bang wrong-" Harry tried to excuse his best friend, but I held up a hand to cut him off.

I firmly shook my head. "No, Harry, he was right. Our personalities didn't mesh because I was too controlling, holding on too tight in an effort to be perfect, because I didn't want to disappoint all those people who I felt were watching and judging us. But to be fair, Ron was too laissez-faire, never willing to do enough to compromise or to meet my efforts. We're opposite ends of the coin, never meant to meet."

He sighed, recognizing the truth. "And Malfoy?"

Our waitress arrived with our meal selections just then, so the conversation paused. When she moved off again, I answered him.

"I didn't expect it, but… Draco and I… we clicked," I admitted, cutting my spinach quiche up into bite-sized squares. "When we were together, it was very elemental. Not to be overly romantic or cliché, but what we had was like fire and lightning and earth all meshed together." I could feel my cheeks burn with the memories. "With him, I was able to let go and just enjoy life. He made it easy and quite enjoyable. I just didn't realize that I had expectations for a serious relationship with him until one day, I realized that they were there. By then, they were undeniable and something had to change. It was inevitable."

Harry chewed on his chicken salad sandwich and I began eating, giving us both a chance to process the information before he spoke. "And his expectations were different from yours?"

I took a deep breath and let it out slowly, trying to loosen the knot in my chest. "They were because I switched on him." When he gave me a confused look, obviously not recognizing the expression, I explained. "I went into the relationship with one set of criteria that we both understood were the rules, but then I got greedy. I wanted more. When I confronted him on it, he was torn. He seemed to want it, too, but there was a part of him that wasn't ready for the commitment."

My best friend shook his head. "He's getting married, 'Mione. He can't be that afraid of the concept."

Hateful, scalding tears erupted again, and I dabbed at the corners of my eyes with the back of a knuckle, my hands trembling. "I know, but I think he's marrying that awful woman because I dumped him and he thinks I've moved on. When I thought he wouldn't give me what I wanted, I'd begun seeing someone else and he found out about it. The next day, there's that announcement in the papers. I don't think he loves her. I've seen them together – you've seen them together. They were at your office just two weeks ago."

"Yeah, Astoria Greengrass wasn't the most pleasant person I've ever met," Harry confessed. "Are you still seeing this other man?" He paused as if considering something he'd never contemplated before. "It is a bloke, right?"

I couldn't help the small smile that escaped. "Yes, Harry, Daniel is a man. We're not dating any more, though. I ended it before it had really begun. It was a foolish rebound to get over Draco's rejection."

He tilted his head to the side as he munched a mouthful of greenery. When he choked it down, he voiced his thoughts. "So, you're still head-over-heels for Malfoy, then?"

What could I say? It was true. Draco and I had forged a connection based upon trust and fevered lust and mutual pleasure. It had been the beginnings of love for me - a love that I truly believed in the depths of my soul could have rocked my entire world if it had been given a chance. I knew it would take me a lifetime to get over such an important loss. "Yes, and for that reason, I've decided not to date anyone else for a while. I won't go into another relationship as long as I have feelings for another man. What about you?"

Shoveling three more bites into his mouth, Harry took the time to consider his response. "I'm not over Gin. Those other witches only proved it. Even knowing she's with Zabini…" He resignedly sighed. "What a mess we've both made of our love lives, huh?"

I concurred, sniffling back my tears and shoving a bite of quiche into my mouth. It was a good recipe – melt-in-your-mouth delicious, actually.

My luncheon companion pushed his food around on his plate. "So, what now?"

I took another swallow from my water glass and primly wiped the corners of my mouth with my napkin. "We finish lunch, we order dessert and coffee, and then we saunter back into work and focus on getting one project finished before six o'clock. After that, we go to our individual homes, treat ourselves to take-away, read a book or watch the telly or take a bath, and then have a goodnight's rest. Tomorrow, we get up and do it all again, until eventually, it doesn't hurt so much and we move on."

His lips twitched. "One day at a time then, huh?"

I raised my fork and his utensil met mine in the middle of the table, our tines saluting each other in agreement, my façade of strength firmly in place to give us both hope. "One day at a time," I resolved.

We returned to the Ministry half an hour later, and as Harry left me at my office door, I noted his slightly slumped shoulders as he walked away down the hall. I felt sorry for my best friend, understanding his pain. Again, our lives were on a parallel path.

As I shut my office door, I leaned my head against the cool wood and prayed for both our sakes that Harry and I could find some small measure of peace and happiness, even if our greatest wishes were now entirely out of reach.

TO BE CONTINUED…

AUTHOR'S NOTE:

*This is not a Harry/Hermione story and there will be no romance between them in this fic. There is nothing but friendship there. I'm sorry if this chapter confused you. I just wanted to clarify that point.