Non-drabble :)


Ginny (Third Person Perspective)

"Hermione?" Ginny pounded her fist on the door angrily. "Hermione, open up!"

"She's not going to let us in, just forget-,"

"No!" Ginny said forcefully, raising her fist to the door again. "She can't do this to herself, just shut herself away, just because some bitter bitch likes to make her relive some fucked up memories. No. I won't let her do this. You hear me?" She raised her voice to a yell. "I'M NOT LETTING YOU DO THIS!"

"Ginny please," Harry begged. Ginny could hear the whine in his voice, a weapon he liked to use for eroding her temper when it was at boiling point. She ignored him.

"Look, the reason why Ron hasn't spoken to you since the day Malfoy was kidnapped is because he's fucking busy! He's part of the group working day and night to find Malfoy, and he has absolutely no time to chat! Surely, you knew that!" Still, there was silence on the other side of the door, maddening silence, silence that made Ginny want to tear her hair out.

"Ginny. Time out darling, you're turning red."

Ginny let out a huge breath and stepped back from the door, running a hand through her flaming hair. "She just won't listen!" she whispered, frustrated. "She thinks Ron's mad at her, she thinks you're mad at her, she thinks I'm mad at her-"

"The fact that you were just screaming at her while pounding on her door probably contributed to that last one," said Harry quietly.

The pair of them stood outside Hermione's bedroom door, Luna having let them in the apartment. Luna's words of wisdom – "Good luck" – now were ringing through Ginny's head.

"Go find Luna," Harry suggested. "Talking to her always calms you down."

Ginny nodded, not trusting her voice to speak. She walked away, glancing behind her at Harry who was watching her go with what she assumed was a reassuring look, but it just looked pained. When she entered the living room, she heard Harry knock on the door (a lot quieter than she did) and say something she couldn't interpret.

She found Luna sitting on a couch with her feet tucked up under her with a book on her lap titled: The Most Effective Magic You Can Do to Counter Nargles. Luna looked up, smiling as Ginny approached. Ginny was suddenly embarrassed, remembering that Luna was present during her rampage.

"Did it work?" Luna asked in her dreamy voice. "I'm guessing not, since you're out here and Harry's still trying to get Hermione's door to open up."

"I hate that she's smart," Ginny grumbled, sitting down next to Luna and crossing her arms in a childlike way. "She enchanted her door so heavily that it doesn't yield under Alohomora. Or brute force."

Luna laughed. "Sounds like her."

"The way she's acting definitely isn't like her though. Hermione from before a week ago wouldn't be doing this, she wouldn't let some crazy bitch get her down like this."

Luna untucked her feet and looked thoughtful. She was silent for minute, before replying, "Actually, I think she's been like this for a long time. She was just good at hiding it. I suppose the tidal wave of memories just broke down her barrier. It sounds crazy, but I think it's true." Ginny was quiet as she digested Luna's view. There's some truth in it, her mind whispered, Hermione never did seem to smile the same way she did two years ago.

Ginny's train of thought was broken when the sound of several locks clicking reached her ears. She heard the small creak of a door opening, and murmuring voices. She leapt off the couch and darted into the hallway, just in time to spot a mane of bushy brown hair disappearing behind the door. Harry was still in view, though his back was to her. He looked back, and shook his head very slightly – I got this. Then he swung the door shut behind him.

Ginny frowned, slightly disappointed. She trudged back into the living room and dropped down again in her seat.

"Harry works miracles," Luna said.

"Indeed he does," Ginny agreed, feeling tired. "I didn't think he could do it."

"Well, they have been best friends for more than a decade. They tell each other everything."

Ginny shifted, and her frown deepened. "You don't think they tell me everything?"

"Maybe some things you don't have to know. Not now, at least. I daresay Hermione'll tell you in her own time. Just like Ron will face her when he's ready."

"Ron's just busy, that's all."

"I know he's hiding. You don't have to lie to me as well, Gin. I know how much those notes hurt him; they may have hurt him more than they hurt her." Luna turned back to her book, leaving Ginny a little confused.

The two of them settled into a comfortable silence, with Luna focused on her strange book and Ginny lapsing into deep thought.

"You're right," said Ginny suddenly, surprising Luna and herself. Luna looked up from her book questioningly. "About Hermione, I mean. When you said that she hasn't been completely right for a long time. You're right. She's hasn't been right since she lost Draco has she?"

"Actually, I think it was since she lost Adrian. Draco was just the cherry on top, if you will," Luna said, dropping her book to the ground. "A really big cherry."

"The Daily Prophet's going to have a shit," Ginny stated hollowly, staring at a patch of carpet. "Can you imagine the storm it will brew when the public founds out? About why they named him what they did?"

"All storms blow over eventually," Luna answered.

"Eventually is the key word though," Ginny sighed, running a hand through her hair. "I'm worried about now." She craned her neck and looked out at the hallway behind her. Hermione's door was still firmly shut, but now there were low voices that could be heard.

"I hear her at night sometimes," Luna said quietly, startling Ginny. Luna glanced at her, looking tormented. "She has nightmares. Awful, terrible nightmares."

"Luna, what are you-"

"And she screams," Luna continued, talking as if she had never talked about Hermione's nightmares before, and it occurred to Ginny that she probably hadn't, but now that she had started it didn't seem like she could stop. "Before Draco got kidnapped, she used to scream very rarely, but in the last week she's been screaming almost every night and almost every night she apologises but it happens again the next night, and now she screams out names and she talks sometimes too-" Luna broke off, breathing heavily, her voice losing its dreamy quality.
"And the second half of those notes are still there, they're still sitting on her bedside table, and I don't understand why she doesn't throw them out. They're poisonous. She tortures herself because she knows that there are more things, things that the kidnapper hasn't even touched on yet, but she knows that they're in the second half, and she kills herself by keeping them, and I would do something, believe me. If I had my way they would be incinerated by now, but she made me swear that I wouldn't touch them. She said she would read them when she is ready, but honestly I don't think she can unless she has Ron and Harry next to her. But Ron really can't be in the same room as her now, and I don't know when he can be. Not to mention Draco's still missing, and she's worried sick over the fact that he's still gone, and Kingsley forbade her to go looking for him, and Harry definitely doesn't want Hermione anywhere near the operation and Ron – whatever he might be feeling now – doesn't want her hurt either. I can see it in her eyes Ginny; I can see the pain in her eyes everyday because she's not over him is she? She loved him with all she had and more and she still does, and whatever she may say or do, she is still hurting over her child. Even though it's been two years she still can't look at a baby items store without flinching." Luna let out a deep breath, looking extremely relieved. She looked down at her hands, leaving Ginny speechless.

"I'm sorry," said Luna finally, smiling half-heartedly. It didn't stay on her face for long though; it slid off her face almost as soon as it appeared. "I've just witnessed all of it but I've never talked about it..."

"It's okay," murmured Ginny, wrapping her arm around Luna and pulling her close. "It'll be over soon." Hopefully.

"I'm not worried about me," said Luna. "I'm worried about her."

Ginny sighed. "Me too."


Hermione (Third Person Perspective)

"Please tell me those aren't what I think they are."

"Harry..."

"No. I dare you. Tell me."

"I wouldn't expect you to understand."

"Try me."

Hermione didn't know what to say. She opened her mouth several times, and closed them again like a fish. She was regretting letting him in already. The worst thing was that Harry didn't sound angry, he just sounded disappointed.

"Hermione," Harry said. "Please talk to me. You won't talk to Ginny, you won't talk to Luna, and Ron-"

"Don't start about Ron," interrupted Hermione harshly. "Ron can come see me whenever he wants too, it's not my fault that he's an immature prick."

"He's just hurt Hermione," said Harry quietly, his gaze subtly pointed.

"I'm not hurt," snapped Hermione, narrowing her eyes. "I just want to be alone."

Harry laughed out loud without humour. "Are you listening to yourself Hermione? You sound like the teenager you never were! Sitting in your room alone, pushing people away, acting like nothing happened..."

"If you're just going to insult me, you may as well leave," said Hermione defensively, ignoring the dull throb Harry's words brought. "I don't need this now."

"You are!" said Harry incredously, as if only just realising himself. "Oh, God! This is exactly how you were acting after you lost-" He broke off mid-sentence, suddenly scared as Hermione flinched instinctively.

"Oh sweet Merlin, Hermione, I'm sorry," whispered Harry. "I didn't think, I wasn't thinking, no, I don't know what I was thinking..." Hermione just nodded numbly, not trusting her voice. She felt like she had been punched in the stomach by an iron fist. Harry almost said his name. Harry almost said his name. Thoughts swirled around Hermione's mind, leaving toxic trails behind them. Hermione stomach churned as she remembered The Daily Prophet. It was bad enough the first time, but now that her past had been dragged up again...

But to hear Harry carelessly throwing it into conversation was the worst. Even though he didn't mention the specific name, the intent was all too clear. Hermione felt queasy when she remembered the front-page news on the Prophet and the headline it carried the day after Draco was taken. Luna had seen it first, and had tried to hide it from her. Hermione shuddered; hating the feeling that headline had given her.

Harry was still looking at her with maddening concern. He had, at least, stopped his attempts at a feeble apology. "Hermione, if you'd rather I left..."

"No," Hermione croaked, initially out of politeness. She continued speaking when she realised she was telling the truth. "I don't want to you go. Sorry. I'm just a bit... under the weather at the moment."

"It's not obvious," mumbled Harry. He sighed, looking at something over Hermione's shoulder. "Merlin, Hermione, why do you still have those?"

"I'm curious," Hermione said, a little coldly. "I never did get to finish reading them since Ron went crazy and fled with his tail between his legs. Not to mention it's about the only thing Kingsley has neglected to forbid me from."

"He's just looking out for you," said Harry.

"I don't need anyone looking out for me!" Hermione exploded. "I mean, what does he expect? I go out with the other Aurors looking for Draco, and I have some crazy flashback and murder everyone within a one kilometre radius?"

"I don't like it much more than you do," Harry shot back. "Believe me, I was part of the group who was fighting for you. Even Professor McGonagall had a say-"

"So then how is it that you didn't win?"

"Hermione, it was pandemonium. While Luna took you home, Ron, Ginny, a handful of other Aurors and I had a meeting with Kingsley. When Kingsley's decision to 'remove' you from the situation reached the Prophet, Professor McGonagall was there, at the Ministry, shouting Kingsley down. I'm sure you saw the headline that day." Colour tinted Harry's face. "Anyway, Ron seemed to have transposed his... anger and hurt into a super persuasive tornado in his favour. Despite all the protests, none of us could have denied what Ron said."

"Don't tell me," groaned Hermione, knowing instantly. "He used personal information."

"Ugh, yes. It was hard even for me to hear it all hashed out. It was painful."

"Good thing I wasn't there," said Hermione. "I probably would have torn his throat out."

"Ginny was one second away from doing that," said Harry with a little smile. His eyes flitted back to Hermione's. "It wasn't easy for him though, Hermione."

"I know." And despite all the anger and hurt she was feeling towards Ron, she did.

"He was doing it for you."

Hermione bit back her retort, and simply nodded.

Harry sighed again. "Though I won't deny that there probably was some sort of personal gratification involved."

"Of course." Hermione didn't expect any less.

"I was talking to him yesterday," Harry added tentatively after a short pause. "He misses you, Hermione."

Hermione groaned, wincing. "And I miss him, Harry, but I can't talk to him if he refuses to listen..."

"He's not fighting anymore," said Harry softly. "He wants to see you but I think he's scared of what might be said if he does. That, and the fact that he is busy searching for your..."

"Right," Hermione agreed, nodding. Harry swung his feet round and off the bed and stood up stiffly, Hermione following. Harry beckoned her for a hug, and she complied.

"Try to stay positive," was murmured against her hair as they embraced. "Don't bother with the Prophet, if anything big happens you'll get an owl from us. Ron will come around, he just needs time, and don't worry, Hermione. Don't shut us out."

They left Hermione's bedroom, and went into the living room, where Ginny and Luna were cured up on the couch, studying a strange book Hermione vaguely remembered Luna buying it some time ago, insisting that it would be of good use. Since it seemed to have distracted Ginny from kicking down her door earlier, Hermione finally agreed.

Ginny looked up at Hermione and Harry's approach, smiling a little sheepishly as her eyes landed on Hermione.

"Hermione, about before-" she started.

"Forget about it," Hermione said. "Its fine."

"Well then, if you're sure..." Ginny stood and breathed in deeply. "Think about it this way, at least the public doesn't know the story behind his name."

"Exactly," Luna chimed. "That, and at last Hermione has started to leave her room for meals!"

"Very funny," said Hermione, rolling her eyes, ignoring the dull throb.

"I suppose there isn't any way to get Kingsley to change his mind?" Luna asked, breaking Hermione from her thoughts. Ginny made an angry noise.

"I don't anything would make a difference, except maybe if Ron took back his statements-" Harry began.

"Unlikely."

"-Or if Hermione made a personal appeal...?" Harry's question hung in the air, the silence solidifying by the second. Luna, Ginny and Harry were all looking at Hermione, varied expressions on each face: Ginny was reluctant, fearful even, Harry was hopeful, expectant, and Luna looked worried.

Hermione cleared her throat, feeling self-conscious. She didn't know how to feel about Harry's proposition, except her instant gut feeling that it would be the only thing to make any difference to Kingsley's decision, Ron's input taken in or not.

Luna was the first to break the silence, glancing at her watch and crying, "Ginny, it's almost time for you to go have dinner with your mother!"

Ginny gave a guilty start, glanced at her own watch and tugged on Harry's sleeve. "Luna's right, we should go."

Harry nodded. Hermione watched him wave to Luna then he gave Hermione a pointed look. After Ginny hugged her goodbye, Ginny and Harry left the house and, with a loud crack, Apparated. Hermione and Luna stood by the door for moment, quiet.

"I'm hungry," said Luna chirpily. She flashed a quick smile. "I feel like Indian, what about you?"

Hermione stared at her, marvelling at how normal Luna was acting. It felt like an eternity before Hermione answered, "Indian's good."


"Who's calling by at this time of night?"

"Maybe its another drunk?"

"Harry, you sound like you hope it is."

"Maybe he does, Gin. Merlin knows it would liven things up around here."

"Will someone just open the door? It's like a tornado outside."

"On it."

The gust of wind that blew into the house when Ron opened the door hit all of them like a whiplash to the face.

"Oh my God!"

"Hermione!"

"What happened to you?"

"Never mind about that, get inside! She looks like she's going to drop dead on her feet!"

The last thing she saw before she surrendered to darkness were the only three faces that she wanted to talk to, but couldn't.

"I still don't understand how she got into this state."

"Frankly, I don't even care, I know it's that bastard's fault."

"Please," croaked Hermione unexpectedly, opening her eyes painfully. She was lying on someone's bed with a thumping headache. Three faces swam into view. She pushed herself up, propping herself on her elbows. "Please don't."

"Fine," Harry swallowed, looking reluctant. "But it was, wasn't it?"

"Harry," Ron warned.

Ginny heaved a sigh and sat down on the bed, sounding impatient. "What did he do this time?"

"Nothing," coughed Hermione quickly, despising herself at how fast she jumped to defend him. "I mean... yeah, he..."

"He didn't hurt you?" asked Ron quietly, his face darkening.

Hermione, reading his mind, recoiled. "No, Ronald! He would never! No, we just... I just... I mean, we both said things... that we didn't mean."

"Speak for yourself," muttered Harry from the corner of the room.

Ginny threw him a dark look, hushing him. "What things, Hermione?"

Hermione glanced between the three of them and felt like icy cold water had spread like wildfire through her body. "I'd rather not say in front of all of you."

"We're your friends."

"If you're going to talk to anyone, it should be us."

"You'll be upset," Hermione said.

"Do we look like we care?" Ron asked loudly. Ginny and Harry echoed their agreement.

"Hermione, if you don't tell us, I swear I'm Apparating straight to your apartment to see the bastard himself," Harry threatened, advancing towards his wand in his pocket. Alarm bells went off in Hermione's head.

"No-" she burst. She took a deep breath. "You need to hear it from me, anyway. Draco-" she ignored the small sharp burst of pain, "Draco – its probably best if you don't see him." There was a rather pointed silence as the others waited for Hermione to continue.

"It was over the smallest thing," said Hermione. "It's no secret that the last year wasn't the easiest thing-"

"Hermione!"

"- In the world. I think he was bottling it up-"

"Hermione, wake up!"

"- And I wasn't in a good mood either, and one thing lead to another-"

"HERMIONE!"

The sound of water splashing and someone gasping woke Hermione up. She had a vague idea that the person gasping was herself.

"Sorry," said Luna, grimacing, her pale hands gripping the edges of the dripping wet bucket. "But I couldn't get you to wake up."

Hermione shivered and raised a hand to her cheek. Her hand came back wet, and cold. She flopped back on her bed, regretting it instantly as her thinly veiled back came in contact with ice-cold water. She shot straight back up.

"Why couldn't you have used warm water?" Hermione complained, wrapping her slightly damp blanket around her.

"Sorry," Luna repeated, "Hermione, you were talking again."

"Of course I was," groaned Hermione, "Can you guess what memory decided to pay me a visit tonight?"

"Staying over at Ginny and Harry's house after the fight?"

"It's sad how quickly you got it right," said Hermione.

"Try to get to sleep," said Luna tiredly, rubbing her eye and stifling a yawn. "You've got your first day back at work tomorrow, remember?"

"Don't remind me," said Hermione, searching for her wand. When she found it, she waved it twice over her bed and herself, and she was instantly dry again.

"Not to mention Ron will be there."

"Not helping, Luna."

"Right. Goodnight."


Hermione woke up in the morning confused. In a sudden rush that made her dizzy, the night's events threatened to overcome her. The sound of bacon sizzling broke Hermione from her stupor. She climbed out of her bed clumsily and paid a visit to the bathroom. Afterwards, she got into her dusty Ministry robes, feeling terribly out of place. She stared at herself in her mirror, frowning at her appearance. It didn't seem to fit her like it used to, though it had only been a week since she had last worn it. It felt too heavy and itchy. Hermione picked at her collar, willing it to be bigger. She sighed and told herself, you're being stupid, it's exactly the same as before. She grabbed her wand and slipped on her shoes. Before Hermione left her room, she stole one last glance at her mirror. Her eyes flickered uneasily as they slid over her reflection. Hermione was already regretting her choice to return to work.

"There you are," sang Luna without turning around as Hermione entered the dining room. She was busy with cooking, her wand obeying her commands. "I was just going to wake you up, you're going to be late!"

"I don't even know if I'm still going," Hermione confessed, sitting down at the table. "I really don't feel like it."

"You're not going to make it out of the door with that attitude," said Luna, placing food on the table. "Just think of all the work that's just sitting on your desk, begging to be done... and think of how behind you are Hermione..."

"Don't say anything else," cried Hermione, wolfing down bacon and eggs with a newfound energy. She leapt up and rinsed her mouth out in the bathroom.

"Have a good day at work!" Luna called as Hermione strode past determinedly.

"When are you going to work?" Hermione asked, stopping suddenly.

"I have to go out and interview people later, so I'm at home for most of the day."

Hermione nodded and continued walking. Once she reached the door, she flung it open and breathed in the morning air. For the hundredth time during her time living with Luna, she was glad of the Anti-Disapparition Jinx they had agreed to place upon their apartment. Without it, she wouldn't have taken her first breath of fresh air in several days.

With one last glance at the place that had been both her haven and her prison, she turned on the spot, and materialised in the Ministry.

She wasn't surprised to hear her name being distributed around like a wave of whispers. As she moved forward, the whispers followed her.

"Do I have something on my face?" she muttered dryly to herself, averting her eyes. "Maybe I put my robe on backwards."

It felt like an eternity before she reached her office. Not one person had said hello along the way. She hadn't seen Harry, or Ginny. Or anyone. Even Ron would have been a welcome sight at the moment.

She heaved the door open; all the energy from breakfast had leeched out of her. Flicking her wand, the blinds snapped open and light streamed in the room. Hermione recoiled at the sight of all the unfinished work on her desk; Luna was not exaggerating. She calculated it would take most of her day to finish. Suddenly, for a moment she felt good. She felt like the old Hermione again.

Hermione was about to sit down at her desk when a knock sounded on the door.

"Come in," she called, a little surprised.

The door opened, and a red haired man walked in. Hermione didn't immediately register who it was, only a vague familiarity at the hair and the freckles. Her limbs ceased moving when she realised who was standing in her doorway.

For some reason, she automatically stood up rapidly, sending her chair flying behind her. She blushed at his slightly bewildered expression, and, pulling in her chair in, sat down again. Her eyes dropped down onto her desk and beads of sweat broke through her skin on her hands. Hermione glanced up tentatively at Ron, then regretting it.

No one spoke for a little bit. Hermione was going insane in her head with the silence. Hermione was just going to break the silence when Ron finally spoke.

"Paylor thought I should give you an update on the Malfoy case," he muttered, keeping his eyes downcast. Clearly, he expected, or hoped, that Hermione hadn't returned to work yet. He was clutching a piece of parchment, which Hermione noticed, had crease marks on it from someone holding it too tightly.

"Right," said Hermione hoarsely. She cleared her throat and tried again. "Right. Well. Thanks, Ron." His name felt like thorns in her throat. She suddenly wondered if she hated Ron or Draco more.

Ron nodded his head and stepped forward, barely within arms reach of the desk, and let the parchment float onto the desk. He had turned around and was about to leave when Hermione cried out.

If you don't say something, he's going to walk out that door and never come back, floated up into her mind from somewhere deep inside. So she cried out, "Wait! Don't – don't leave!" Her hip knocked into her desk painfully as she attempted to follow him. She breathed in and out rapidly, pushing a stray hair behind her ears.

"Please," she said. "Sit down."

He complied, looking bewildered, and a little afraid.

"I think we need to talk," she began.

"And I think it's time for my lunch break!" he said, making a move to leave.

"Ron," she said sternly. "Its eight o clock in the morning." He slumped back into his seat, defeated.

Hermione stared at him determinedly until Ron looked back. When he did, he sighed.

"All right. What is it?"

"Why didn't you come talk to me?" demanded Hermione. She was focused and steady; she wanted answers and she did not want to beat around the bush.

"I was busy!" Ron answered defensively.

"That didn't stop you from seeing Harry every other day," Hermione snapped, face reddening.

"All right, I didn't want to, okay?" He snapped angrily, turning red himself. "I couldn't face you!"

"How brave of you," Hermione said sarcastically. She knew she was being petty, but she didn't care enough to stop. Here was a whole week of pent up aggression and anger flowing out.

"If you were in my position, you would be doing the same, I'm sure!"

"What, using Harry as an owl and avoiding my best friend for something they couldn't control?"

"You talked to Harry just as much as I did!" Ron said brusquely.

"Just like you talked to Kingsley, right Ron?" Hermione said harshly, feeling a weird satisfaction in Ron's following silence.

Finally, Ron said, "I did it for you."

"Yeah, I know. Harry said."

"I did," Ron insisted. "Honestly, do you believe that you could handle hunting down Malfoy?"

"What kind of question is that?"

"Given your history?" Ron persisted.

"With everything taken into account, Ronald," Hermione spat. "Whether or whether not I could attend that mission in a professional matter, it was still none of your business. Whatever happened between Draco and I is private. What happened between us is private. You had no right using it for your own freakish personal gratification."

"Do you think I liked doing that?" shouted Ron. "Do you really think I liked basically dissecting you? You are my best friend Hermione! I would have never done it were there have been any other way, you know that."

"There were other ways!" yelled Hermione, banging her fist on the desk. "You could have talked to me Ron! We could have worked this out together! But no, you went behind my back to Kingsley and prevented me from doing the one thing I want to do!"

"From what I heard, you weren't in much of a state to 'work things out'," Ron retorted. "Is it true Luna had to send food to your door?" When Hermione didn't respond, he went on further. "I knew you weren't over him," he laughed bitterly. "From the second you knocked on my door, drenched head to toe, I knew. I was nothing but a rebound, right?"

"Ron, you know that's not true," groaned Hermione. "You just said it yourself, you are my best friend. I was just really... emotional and lonely, and you were just there, and I'm sorry..."

"I don't want your apology," said Ron tiredly. All the fight had sagged out of him, leaving him seemingly defeated. Hermione thought privately that angry was better. "I want to ask you something."

"Ask away."

"Did you ever love me?"

Hermione pursed her lips, sadness etching into her features. Of course he was going to ask that. She looked at him in pity, at his tired frame and the way he stared at his hands almost abashedly. Hermione took their relationship in her head, and surveyed it, almost shamefully. She remembered all their fights, all their screaming matches, how their tempers had snapped repeated times. They screamed awful, awful things at each other. She remembered all the good times too. Growing up with him and Harry at Hogwarts. Though their adolescence probably wasn't considered the norm, she still loved every second of it.

And when her and Ron's particular relationship had advanced after Hogwarts. But that was after...

She remembered how much Ron had hurt her over the years, intentionally or not. Compared to how many times Hermione had broken him, they were even.

All of her memories flashed in one second, and Hermione was back to reality. Ron was sitting in front of her, angry but sad, having requested information Hermione could not hand over easily.

The answer seemed to rise to Hermione's lips simply. Of course she loved him. She still loved him. But somehow, Hermione didn't think that was enough.

"I still do," she answered brokenly, her voice catching. Ron just looked at her, and even then Hermione could see just how much she had crushed him.

"And I believe you," was all he said. Ron glanced at the clock and shook his head ruefully. It was quarter to nine. "I really should go. Paylor will be wondering where I am. Though," he said thoughtfully, rising from his chair. "I think she suspects something. I mean, there were four other available Aurors without much to do. Any of us could have delivered the message to you."

"Then I'm glad she picked you," said Hermione tenderly, standing too. She pulled him in for a tight hug, and he kissed her on the forehead.

"So we're okay now?" he asked, stepping back, nearing the door.

"We're okay," Hermione confirmed.

Ron smiled listlessly and left.

Hermione felt as if a load she didn't know was there had lifted. Now that her relationship with Ron had (partially) been repaired, she felt light. Not heavy and despondent, like the past week, but light and carefree.

The amount of work piled on her desk brought her back down to earth. Even though she normally enjoyed having something solid to work at, this was in an entirely different category. As she shifted aside pieces of parchment, she remembered the reason of Ron's arrival. Hermione picked up the parchment he had been carrying gingerly. It read:

DRACO MALFOY: STATUS REPORT

Noticeable signs of disturbances in the Malfoy Manor, especially in the living room. The only room apart from the room where Malfoy was abducted that was altered was Malfoy's bedroom and his bathroom, where traces of Polyjuice Potion was discovered, with remnants of Blaise Zabini's hair. Auror Bilsworth was the one to discover the note sent to Malfoy under Zabini's name, requesting Malfoy meet him for a chat, presumably the night before Malfoy's abduction. The restaurant named in the note proved a dead end. The Auror office later received a note from an anonymous sender stating, "You won't find anything there. How about you try the little cabin by the Forest of Dean?" Two groups of Aurors advanced forth to the Forest of Dean, immediately finding spots of blood on the walls and the porch. The cabin was, predictably, completely empty. The Auror office is currently searching for more leads within the cabin and all areas surrounding it. Blaise Zabini has also been taken into questioning.

Before any emotions had the chance to rise in Hermione, another piece of parchment, this one considerably smaller, fluttered down from Hermione's hand holding the report. It must have been underneath it.

Heart pounding, Hermione picked it up with shaking hands and desperately hoped...

You've been avoiding me Hermione. So I brought these over to your office. It's been too long.

Hermione slowly looked down at a particular pile of parchment, previously disregarding it as a stack of post it notes. How more wrong could she be?

The top piece was the next fragment of Hermione's destruction.


I'm sorry it took so long to get out. For some reason, the words didn't want to come out! But I finally strung together a hopefully all right chapter, and now here we are. Hope you liked it; hope you picked up the subtle hints here and there. Drabbles coming your way!

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