Disclaimer: I do not own any Harry Potter characters and the Harry Potter world. They all belong to JK Rowling.
Chapter Five
"How Have You Been?"
Some people had spent a lifetime waiting for something to give them the happiness and satisfaction they'd been searching to complete the puzzle, to cover that non-existent hole within.
Some people, the lucky ones, were born to find and keep it. Some people, the unlucky ones, no matter what they did, how hard they tried, never did.
It was different for Draco Malfoy.
He wasn't one of those unlucky ones, no. In fact, he was one of those people who were given exactly what they needed. He was given the chance for contentment. It was just he failed in the matter of keeping it, because he was too afraid of losing it.
When he was but a little boy, he would ask for different toys and Quidditch figurines and he would easily acquire them no matter what. He was the master of temper tantrums. He'd scream and stomp his foot. Sometimes, if that wouldn't work, he'd simply skip eating. Then in an instant, in a snap of his fingers, he would get it. Typical little shite, he was.
Those toys had made him happy, but he always wondered why it just wasn't easier to smile for long. One toy was impressive and fun the very second he held it, but the excitement would then cease to exist for just a day or so. He wouldn't want it anymore, and then, he was off for another conquest, for another toy to destroy.
All of his friends, few as they may be, were different from him. Even his best friend, Blaise, had his own favorite toys. This made Draco wonder why he never had one.
Vexing, shrieking little Pansy had her own favorite bisque doll with shiny, skin-like matte finish, long lashes and the softest and blondest of hair there ever was possible. Pansy once told him that Draco resembled her doll so perhaps, he should be its father. Draco was too angered and insulted of the fact that he was being compared to a lifeless, girly doll that he'd thrown a huge temper tantrum because of it. Little Pansy ended up crying and running into his father's arms, who was the one who bought the very doll from a popular and exclusive dollhouse at magical Paris on his little girl's fourth birthday.
Blaise had his treasured Quidditch action figures of the complete Puddlemere United Quidditch team players. They were given by his late biological father, he said. Blaise told him that his father had taken him to an International Quidditch game that day, the very first time he had fell in love with the game itself. He was only five but the moment was forever etched in his memory. It was the last he had seen of his father as well but it was the fondest of memory he had kept of his childhood.
Draco had all the toys in the world, but none of them meant a thing… because none of them had the memories just like those toys treasured by Pansy and Blaise.
His toys came from his parents' galleons, but neither of them had the time to accompany him out on a stroll nor give him memories like Pansy's father did, or Blaise's late father. He was always taken out by his father's subjects to choose all the toys he wanted. Sometimes, they were just delivered directly to his room by the house elves in the manor; with those huge, costly boxes.
It was then that he realized that none of them really meant a thing. He couldn't have a favorite toy because none of the toys given to him had a certain memory he could be fond of.
None of them mattered.
Sometimes, he would walk around the huge, empty manor and search for something even if he didn't know what it was in the first place. His little self would wander around in his pyjamas, clutching any random toy he could snatch to be his companion that particular night. He would stop by his parents' bedroom and just look up at the huge door, wondering if he could at least get that goodnight kiss Blaise was talking about, the one the Italian boy would always get from his mother before he would go to sleep every night; or maybe that bedtime story Pansy always loved getting from her father and how he would always tuck her in goodnight.
Little Draco always had bedtime stories from his nursemaid, of course, but never from his parents. They simply didn't have the time. He wondered if the difference was vast, or if someday he'd even have the chance to know and compare, even for just a night.
He had always believed and hoped that he'd get even a single night of that from his parents, which was why he'd often sneak out after his nursemaid had tucked him in. He would stand a minute or so in front of his parents' room, contemplating whether or not he would knock and ask them so. Yet, every time he was about to do so, they were either shouting at each other or were away for business trips. Little Draco was often left running back to his room while covering his ears away from his parents' harsh arguments.
He had hoped against all hope that someday he'd be able to have a single night with his parents, that maybe someday his father could read to him or his mother could kiss him goodnight. He would settle for a single story, for a single night, just as long as he had something he could brag to Blaise and Pansy about.
Little Draco hoped and hoped, until eventually, he grew up. And then it was over.
It was then he realized that maybe he wasn't meant to be happy at all. Maybe he didn't deserve anything at all. No one loved him.
His own parents didn't love him, so who else would? Who else could? Maybe he really was a little shite, just like what he heard from his father during one of his arguments with his mother one night.
Draco Malfoy had it all, they said; yet, behind all the glorious fame and power was the pretense of a contented life.
All his life, he had waited for that single act of love, for that single happiness.
He didn't know what people called 'happiness' back then. He guessed he'd feel something, anything, some sort of an epiphany or a revolutionary discernment to realize that finally he was content and happy.
He didn't have that. He didn't understand. He didn't know anything, until he found Hermione.
Hermione was the best thing that ever happened to him. She was the only good amongst all the constant bad in his life.
That scared him.
He was too scared to make his world revolve around her. There were too many what ifs. He was too scared that someday, she would push him away just like what his parents did to him. If that ever happened, what would be left of him? If she did push him away, what would happen to him? He'd be more humiliated than he ever had been. He'd probably die without his dignity and pride.
Hermione had once asked him what it was that was bothering him. It was her job, anyway. She was always filled with questions, but it was just because she cared for him. He wanted to open up to her, to tell her his worries, but he just couldn't; not because he didn't want to, it's just that he really couldn't. He couldn't explain to her what he was feeling because she would never understand. Nobody would.
He was the happiest with her but he was also scared to death that in a single snap, she'd take that single happiness away from him just like what everybody did. He was afraid to give everything because he knew that from the minute he would, nothing would ever be left for him anymore. He was in a constant battle and it was… exhausting.
Hermione mattered to him and that was the problem, really. Before Hermione, he was free to do anything he wanted because he had nothing to lose, nothing to care about, and nothing to love. It suited him well. But then she came, and he was afraid once again. She could make or break him.
So then, just like he'd always done before, he pushed her away as well. Better him to do it first, right?
But then he realized, when he let her go, just how much lonely everything was before she came into his life.
Before Hermione, he was unrestricted, limitless, free… but he never was truly happy. Before Hermione, everything was just black and white. Before Hermione, everything seemed empty and useless. There was only contemporaneous day and night, but there never was a future to dream or plan about. There were no scary, uncertain feelings, but it was like doing something all over again, a formless routine, every day, with no particular reason.
He reverted back to the little kid again who threw his toys just a day or so, because none of them truly made him happy.
Because truly, before Hermione, he was dead.
And now he was back to the start again.
He was crazy, insane…
But he couldn't let her go. He wouldn't. Not anymore.
He smoothed some invisible creases from his dinner suit and sipped on his sparkling water as he waited for Hermione. He looked incredibly confident and superior as he sat there at the most exclusive table of the grand restaurant, patiently waiting for his date. Hermione might think that this was a business meeting, but he considered this as a date, the first of the many others in the future. If he needed to get back to the start to woo her once more, he'd do it.
Her portrait back at his office seemed to have mocked him before he went. She was lazily stroking her hair while inadvertently ignoring him. Draco realized that the moving canvas actually copied its real identity's state at the moment. Ever since he and Hermione broke up, the beautiful replica of her by his office wall seemed to hate him as well, almost as if she really was Hermione herself. Paintings. Fascinating works.
He was interrupted from his thoughts when he saw the very woman he was thinking about, entering the gourmet restaurant. There seemed to have always been a pull of magnetism whenever she was around. He'd always know because his eyes were programmed to just look at her way every time she was in the same room with him.
He breathed deeply as he looked at her.
The maître d'hôtel escorted her inside, helping her out of her chic skirted trench coat before she was ushered towards the reserved table. She opted for a white high-crew neck dress with chic black patent-leather belt. She looked very business-like but classy and sexy as well as the dress hugged her beautiful curves, her tall peep-toe pump accentuating her posture. Her hair was on a neat updo, displaying her sweet face to him. She didn't have too much jewellery, just a silver bracelet and pearl earrings.
She was perfect.
He stood up to greet her but she tensed when she finally reached the table and saw him.
He couldn't decipher her reaction. She stood like a statue as she stared at him in shock, even forgetting to thank the headwaiter who just smiled and went away. Her eyes were round, making her honey-colored irises visible to him and her long lashes beautifully slanting over her eyelids. Her glossy, kissable lips were slightly apart, forming a small 'O'. She was breathing too deeply, making her chest move, silently seducing him.
Call him a sadist or a sick tormentor, but hell, it definitely turned him on.
"Good evening, Ms. Granger. You look… stunning," Draco whispered as he slowly took her hand in his, kissing her knuckles softly. This was as close as he could get, for now, and he would relish this moment.
She was still speechless. Perhaps she had recognized him from Potter's villa when he and Blaise trespassed and cornered her when she was together with her friends, or maybe that one time at Hogsmeade when she bought those reserved books. He'd been stalking her a lot. Maybe it got her confused. That was a wrong move on his part.
She was hyperventilating now. She looked somewhat shaken, then confused, then afraid… For a few seconds, her face contorted into panic but it was easily replaced by a guarded expression, until every emotion that was etched in her face a moment ago just vanished in a single snap, as if she was attempting to win a Blackjack game.
He found himself asking, "Are you all right?" He was worried. He knew she was in a delicate condition. The act of casting a memory charm was a serious, advanced magic. When it wasn't done properly, the victim may lose all of his or her memories, completely erasing them in the process. It may also cause severe brain damage or disorientation.
He knew that Hermione was a very brilliant witch, but his subjects informed him that she had obliviated her memories herself, with no one to do it for her. The memory charm itself was advanced and risky enough. Wouldn't that act be ten times the risk when one person would do it to himself or herself? What if she had seriously caused certain damage and he was triggering it by showing himself to her, as it was obvious that he was the main entity of said lost memories. They said that people with amnesia usually had these flashes of recollections when faced with certain traumas in the past. In Hermione's case, he was pretty much the object of the trauma, the root of it even.
"Ms. Granger? Are you alright?" he asked again. He wanted to scream, pull her into his arms, kiss her and ask her if she remembered him, but it would ruin everything. He didn't want to confuse her. He had done too much damage already.
"I-It is a pleasure to finally meet you, sir," Hermione finally greeted shakily, putting on a brave face. "I'm Hermione Granger of the Department of Law Enforcement."
If she ever remembered the time when he and Blaise came barging on Potter's private villa to ambush her, she didn't show it. Maybe she really forgot about it because she had paid him no mind whatsoever, or maybe she didn't really care, or she didn't want to. That hurt, somehow.
"Draco Malfoy of 'Malfoy Inc. Wizard's Gift Charity Program'. My mother owns the entire program, but as the managing director of Malfoy Inc. itself, I am one of the program's curators. I pretty much manage everything as I ensure all the beneficiaries and funds given to different sectors, been travelling the world with the ambassadors as well so that I can keep in touch with the less fortunate." Lies, all lies. He didn't care a damn thing about the program until now.
"Good for you," Hermione replied indifferently as she took her hand away from him a little bit too harshly. She appeared as if she didn't believe a thing he just said. And did she just… wipe her said hand with a napkin after? What was that all about? Shouldn't she be impressed as planned?
He wasn't giving up that easily, however. "Before anything else, Ms. Granger, I must commend you for—"
"Thank you," Hermione suddenly spoke, cutting him. What? He wasn't allowed for any pleasantries too? "I came here to discuss to you the benefits to which your charity program has signed on. We have divided the events, the bids and the sponsors to each of the benefited sectors. Your charity program is the highest beneficiary in this annual fundraiser so far and we are very grateful…"
Merlin, she was chattering on and on and on about the entire event, from the estimated funds to the bloody cause which he didn't even care about. She was all business. He could even swear they had tackled about more than half of the planned discussion over the entrée and before the main course even arrived.
But he let her discuss whatever she wanted to. He was very well contented in staring at her gorgeous mouth, anyway; the way her tongue swirled inside as she talked and the way she'd unconsciously lick her lower lip as she continued with the discussion. Merlin, he missed that precious mouth, which he had often played, teased, nibbled on a daily basis before. He smirked as he lounged on his chair a bit, his arm draping over the top rail and his other hand resting against his chin as he stared at her. Well, might as well get comfortable.
"You're not listening," she finally announced heatedly when she noticed his position. She looked pissed at him.
"I am. I like your lips when you talk. Go on," he urged her softly, waving his hand to let her continue.
She looked preposterously annoyed but his comment somehow made her squirm a bit. She bit her lower lip while averting his gaze. He knew her too well to note that she was, indeed, affected by his earlier comment. His smirk grew wider.
However, it seemed that she was refusing to hold unto any bait as possible. "As I was saying," she continued in a very business-like manner. "We now have an ample amount of lists of auction prices from private donors and non-profit organizations. We have sponsors from different establishments as well, to lend some commercial properties, tickets and gift certificates. In the bachelorette auction, there also comes a package with gift certificates according to the interest of each girl. This can attract potential bidders to give more and to know more about their potential dates—"
"Are you joining?" he suddenly inquired, looking interested.
"Excuse me?" she looked affronted.
"The bachelorette auction, are you joining?" he prompted as he leaned and placed his hands under his chin to stare at her. She backed away while straightening her dress.
"I'm one of the administrators of the event, Mr. Malfoy. It is my job to make sure everything goes well," she explained to him as if he was daft. That didn't put him off. He was more amused than anything else.
"You didn't answer my question," he countered.
"No. I will not be joining," she almost screamed back.
"Well, that's too bad. I for one will be very thrilled if you do," Draco told her before sipping on his wine.
"There are a lot of pretty girls in our auction that I'm very sure the likes of you will be very interested in," she blurted out.
"The likes of me?"
"Yes," she nodded complacently; "those types of bachelors who can't stick to a particular relationship, those who want something more than they can handle."
"And you think I am that type of person?" he probed. He wasn't happy where this particular conversation was going.
"I don't know," she replied noncommittally. "I do not know you, but I'm pretty good at reading people."
"What do you read in me?" he prodded while leaning even nearer. He could practically smell her fragrance. He missed her scent, the time when it was all over his pillows. But she couldn't remember what it was like back then…
He and Hermione… they had shared such an unrestrained passion. There were nights when there was nothing but their bodies and what they did with each other. They were passionate, wild, primal… They fed each other's fantasies, quenched each other's licentious thoughts, and gave in to unbridled, unadulterated lust. It was their secret, their sacred refuge; the one where the world was not privy of. They were unspoken. Those memories were theirs and no one else's. He was certain that she would never have that level of passion with anyone but him.
They belonged to each other.
She shrugged while sipping on her wine. "Nothing notable."
Merlin, she was killing him.
"What can I ever do to make you join the bachelorette auction?" he whispered at her. He'd bid all his fucking galleons just to get a date with her, a real one.
"I'm getting married soon. I don't think I fit the criteria," she professed while casually showing him her engagement ring. It was an exquisite princess-cut diamond ring with silver band.
He sucked in a breath to control his temper. He was angry all of a sudden. He could feel the little green monster morphing into something deadly inside his gut.
"You're not married yet," he reminded her through gritted teeth. He couldn't possibly lose his control due to his uncalled jealousy. It would ruin his plans.
"I will be very soon. It's the same as being a married woman," she stated smugly.
Fuck, that statement stung. His hand reflexively went to his chest, clutching his suit in a manner as if he was having an unstable angina. It was involuntary but he tried his hardest to not make it seem obvious.
"But the fact is you're still not married, and you might change your mind along the way," Draco opposed back.
"That will never happen," she swore seriously. She seemed to be stabbing her pan-seared salmon as if she was mutilating someone. Draco was glad he wasn't a salmon.
"What I was just trying to say is, maybe you might change your mind, you know. A person can't know his or her future, surely," he explained. He could feel his heart hammering inside his chest.
You will change your mind. You're mine.
"There are two kinds of people in this world, Mr. Malfoy," she laughed humourlessly at him. It was quite a scary laugh if you ask him; "the one that couldn't commit and the one that could. I belong in the latter. I love my fiancé and I will never do anything to hurt him in any way or form, like what other selfish people do, like cheating. Having a relationship with someone is something I consider sacred. If that sacred bond is destroyed by cheating then it can never be repaired again. If a person loves his or her partner enough then he or she will never resort on the cheap act of such a deceitful thing. If that happened then it was never love in the first place. If the person forgives and takes the assailant back then it's only pure stupidity and nothing else."
"T-There are a lot of factors to be considered, it doesn't mean it isn't love," Draco stammered. He felt being stabbed on the spot. She was still stabbing her salmon in too much force that she could break the plate. He might even be bleeding in the middle of the restaurant if her words could crack anything in literal.
"People who cheat do not know the meaning of love. They don't deserve to even speak about it," Hermione spat, her chest heaving as if she had just ran a marathon.
"M-Ms. Granger—"
"I know that you are a very busy man, Mr. Malfoy. I want to thank you for taking the time to discuss with me the prerequisites of the annual charity ball. As the head of my department, I would like to extend our gratitude to you. If there are any more concerns, you may send an owl to the address given to you by my secretary and I will personally seek to the matter. I will see you at the ball. Goodbye," she announced as she suddenly stood up, her chair loudly scraping as she did so.
She was visibly shaking and he worriedly rushed over to her side to see if she was alright.
"Don't touch me!" she unexpectedly screamed outrageously when he tried to reach for her, attracting attention from some of the guests dining inside.
Draco felt his heart break into pieces as he stared at her. She was trembling while placing her hands in front of her, palms out, desperately trying to stop him from getting closer. Her shoulders were slightly hunched in a protective stance. She was breathing so hard and she looked so pale, he thought she was going to pass out.
He wanted so much to pull her into his arms and embrace her. He wanted to coo gentle words in her ear and promise her that he would protect her. He wanted to kiss her and tell her that everything was going to be alright, that he would keep her safe from anything that could ever harm her, that he would keep the nightmares and the monsters away.
But he couldn't.
Because he was the monster.
She looked so broken beyond repair. Was it possible that even if she didn't remember him, she was still hurting by the fact that he was near her? What have he done? Could he even be sorry enough? Could he even forgive himself for hurting the only girl he had ever loved?
"H-Hermione, let me—"
"NO!" she shouted before running away from him; like the time Cinderella did from her prince when the clock struck twelve.
Except this was no fairytale.
Draco Malfoy couldn't remain standing. He felt his wobbly knees giving in. He was left seated on his chair all night, dumbfounded and heartbroken.
"Harry and I had been together for 8 years and had only been engaged last year, while Luna and this Marcus Flint had only been together for a month and now they're suddenly getting married? She's insane! We only even saw that guy once, Hermione! Once! How can she possibly be so sure of marrying him?" Ginny screamed outrageously the very time she came barging inside Hermione's room.
Hermione pressed the bridge of her nose, the other hand massaging her temple as she scooted near her bed post, trying so hard to hide herself inside her blankets. She didn't want any visitors today. She had cried herself to sleep last night after that disastrous dinner with Draco.
She honestly didn't want to talk about anything with anyone today, but Ginny invited herself in. She practically intruded inside her home and barged straight inside her room, not caring if she was asleep or not. Ginny was her best girl friend, but she could be a little obtuse at times, not caring what privacy really meant.
One time, the feisty red head even burst inside her room when Hermione and Theo were in the shower. She just sat and waited on the bed while asking them to quickly finish 'it' up and get out because she had something very urgent to tell Hermione.
Ginny was probably the only person in this planet who could do that and not care a bit.
"And he's what? Ten years older than she is?" Ginny continued babbling, pacing around the room now while resignedly waving her arms in the air.
"Six, Ginny. He's six years older." Hermione rolled her eyes as she got out of the blanket and stared at her fiery friend.
"Exactly! He's too old for her! She's too innocent! Luna's like a little harmless baby who loves inventing little cute fairy friends while he's the big bad wolf who could eat her whole in a second! I mean, where the hell is the logic in that? How can you marry a wolf when you're a bloody fairy?" Ginny shrieked while pulling her hair in a maddening manner. The girl had lost it.
"He seems really besotted with Luna," Hermione placated her friend. "Give the guy a break, Gin. He was kind enough to meet us. You were even a bit friendly with him. He even tried his hardest to be good friends with Harry and the others by playing Quidditch with them at the burrow. Remember how pleased Luna was that she even cried in happiness before the afternoon tea?"
"But I honestly didn't think they'd get married after a freaking month! I even thought Luna was just experimenting or something, trying to know what it's like to have an evil boyfriend or something to fend off all those nargles she's talking about! But nooo, she decided to actually marry the git!"
"Ginny…"
"And now, poof! They're suddenly off giving invitations to this grand wedding at the beach. I got mine a while ago. I also got yours at your mailbox, by the way. Here," Ginny announced while carelessly tossing the beautiful envelope with pink laces and glittering pixie paintings on her bed.
Leave it to Ginny to get her mails for her as well.
"Well, I've never seen Luna so happy," Hermione sighed as she placed the envelope on her desk. "Maybe they just work that way, you know. It's not about the length of time. It's about your faith and devotion to each other."
"Hermione, she barely knows the man. It's only been a month, for goodness' sake!" Ginny argued as she sat on her friend's bed.
"And I have been together with the same man for years and years before and look where it got me," Hermione murmured bitterly, more to herself.
"Oh, Hermione!" Ginny suddenly hugged her tightly. "At least you have Theo now. If that Marcus Flint breaks Luna's heart, I won't be able to take the drama again! I mean, one heartbroken friend is enough, you know! Well, not that you're still not over that Malfoy git. Of course you are. It's just that, Flint is inside Malfoy's circle of friends and I'm really worried for Luna. Birds with the same feathers flock together, after all."
"Flint wants to marry Luna. There's a huge difference, Gin. Draco never wanted to marry me. Marriage was a faux to him." Hermione smiled sadly at her friend. She didn't know why that statement stung as well; maybe because it was the truth.
"Did you sometimes wish before that Draco had offered you marriage as well?" Ginny quietly asked, temporarily forgetting her outburst on Luna's unsought decision of marrying a total stranger.
"I waited for more than four years, didn't I?" Hermione whispered back.
Ginny was suddenly quiet as she finally stared at her friend. Hermione looked away and took the time to stand up and go to the bathroom to fix herself. She looked like a mess and she knew that Ginny had finally noticed it, even if the red head kept it to herself. She was grateful that she understood.
Hermione was a muddle of complete, utter wreck last night. She had gone home crying and shaking, almost fainting in heartbreak and hatred. Seeing him again and talking to him face to face like that brought back every single hurtful memories she had with him. She couldn't believe just how much it really still ruined her. He held the power of hurting her, of twisting that particular knife that was still very much stuck inside her chest. And it just wasn't fair.
She hated Draco, hated him so much to the point that she could have had actually killed him if she had stayed longer. He even had the gall to show himself and shamelessly flirt with her after everything that he had done. The bastard.
She knew he planned all of this to get her again. Maybe he got bored with his life and was out for her so he could play with her again. Well, fuck you, Draco Malfoy. She was never going back to him. She was never going to get hurt again.
If it was a game he wanted then she'd give it to him. Only this time, she knew she would win in the end.
"I had just dinner with Draco Malfoy last night," Hermione breathlessly confessed as she went out of the bathroom to face her friend.
"You—WHAT?" Ginny bellowed; looking like someone had just squished her face in order to squelch her eyeballs out. It was comical and if the situation wasn't that serious, Hermione could have had laughed.
"It turns out that he's one of the biggest benefactors of my department's annual fundraiser ball. I didn't know it was him until the dinner," Hermione explained as she sat hastily on the bed, covering her face with her hands.
"He planned this, Hermione! It's so obvious! Oh, that git! When will he ever leave you alone? He's a sadistic prat!" Ginny shrieked despicably as she stood up and continued to pace to and fro inside her friend's room once again, the 'Luna topic' completely forgotten.
"I know, Gin," Hermione sighed while squeezing her shaky hands.
"Theo will not be so happy about this," Ginny pointed out, staring at her almost jittery friend.
Oh no. Theo. She hadn't thought about him much regarding this matter.
Suddenly, she was scared beyond belief. A sensation of terror and dread unexpectedly slammed into her gut. It felt like she was riding a roller coaster and she was tossed by the side to fall down. She was having a hard time breathing again.
"S-Should I tell him? I should tell him, right? Or will it be a bad idea if I tell him? What if I tell him and then he confronts Draco and makes things worse? It's not a big deal, right? I can handle this. But if I don't tell him, however, he'll—"
"Hermione!" Ginny leaned down while grasping her friend's shoulders to steady her. She was mumbling nonstop and was now hyperventilating. "Just breathe with me, okay? That's right, breath…"
Hermione followed her friend's instruction and breathed as calmly as possible. No use for paper bags just because of Draco bloody Malfoy.
"Theo will be angry when he learns this," Hermione whimpered, still trying her very best to calm down. She wouldn't cry again. No. She had enough of that. Not this time.
"Oh, he'll be angry all right, but not at you, okay? You didn't do anything. It's that stupid git, Malfoy," Ginny reminded her, trying to propitiate her clearly panicked friend.
"Right," Hermione nodded frantically as she stood up and paced around the room, ignoring Ginny's pleas for her to sit down. "Right, you're right. I should tell Theo. He'll learn about this, anyway. He'll be there at the charity ball. It's best that it came from me than from anyone else. Right, that's right. You're right. Not my fault. Not at all. Okay, I can do this." She was doing the pursed lip breathing exercise now.
"It's going to be fine, Hermione," Ginny sighed, trying to appease her. "It's a ball. Lots of people are going to attend. Nothing's going to happen. Once the ball is over, your department will have Malfoy's money for the cause and all is going to be well. You won't ever need to talk to him again after it."
"I acted like a bitch to him last night," Hermione suddenly wittered.
"Well, good; serves the git right." Ginny nodded in approval.
"The thing is, he seemed… sad, more than angry or insulted," Hermione whispered while scrunching her face in a confused frown.
There was a long pause.
"I-I don't think Theo should know," Hermione suddenly concluded, stammering once again. "I just… maybe I can persuade him not to come and—"
"He'll be angrier if you don't tell him, Mione. Remember when you didn't tell him about your fake amnesia and he had to overhear it from my talk with Luna? Sorry about that by the way. Well, the thing is, Theo's your fiancé and Malfoy is out for the kill again. I know the git is going to make you come back to him. I don't know how he gets pleasure from whatever kind of sick, twisted happiness he gets from continually hurting you. Can't you see, Hermione? You're letting Malfoy win again!" Ginny admonished, dragging her friend to finally sit on the bed. She was making her dizzy. Wasn't pacing her job a while ago?
"But I don't want Theo in this mess. I don't want to see him hurt when he shouldn't even have to," Hermione sighed in frustration.
"You do realize that you, keeping this a secret from Theo, would seem like you're still having some feelings for your ex, right? That you're still affected," Ginny prompted.
"You're right."
"That you still have feelings for Malfoy?"
"Yes. What? NO! Of course not!" Pursed lip breathing was needed again. "W-What I meant to say was that you're right that I should tell Theo. After all, it's not my fault that the git happens to be the benefactor for my department's cause, right? I mean—"
"Hermione, we're back to the beginning of the discussion again," Ginny pointed out.
"You have to promise me one thing, Gin," Hermione suddenly stuttered as she grabbed her friend's shoulders to face her. She looked grim and terrified; Ginny couldn't say anything but nod.
"You have to promise me that no matter what happens you'll never let me go back to Draco."
"H-Hermione…"
"Promise me, Ginny! Swear to me!" Hermione shook her hard. She looked desperate. She looked like the broken hearted girl Ginny had tried to wrestle out of her wand a year ago just to prevent her from inflicting damage to herself. Ginny's heart broke for her.
"Yes, Hermione. I promise."
"I don't want to hurt Theo. I want to be with Theo. Please help me. Please… Draco will ruin me again. I don't want to go back. Please stop me from going back. I'm so scared… please," Hermione pleaded desperately as she fell down on her bed, pushing her face on her pillow just to stifle her cries. She tried so hard to stop herself from crying but the more she did, the more her tears swelled painfully in her eyes. She felt like she was being torn to pieces again.
Ginny swallowed the lump on her throat as she fisted her hands on Hermione's nightgown and harshly hauled her to sit and face her. "Dammit! Even if I have to curse you and bind you in the corner just to keep you away from that man, I will, Hermione! You cannot, and I repeat, cannot ever go back to that cycle again, or Merlin help me, I will study the art of Obliviation myself just to erase that idiot from your memory! Do you even realize how stupid it's going to be when, Merlin forbid, you go back to him? Once is accidental, twice is coincidence… but thrice is just plain, unadulterated stupidity! Do you understand me?"
Hermione just whimpered helplessly.
"Get a bloody grip, Hermione!" Ginny continued her sermon while shaking her now crying friend. "You do not cry for him! You cannot cry for him! Dry those bloody tears! Stop crying! He's a scumbag! He's nothing compared to you! Years after this, you'll be happy and married and have kids while he's going to be all alone, Hermione! He's going to die alone! He's going to spend his entire life mooning over something he couldn't get because he had taken you for granted! He's THAT stupid! Can't you see? Stop crying! He's not worth it and he never will!"
Hermione was still crying nonstop as Ginny pulled her into a tight hug, gently stroking her hair to calm her down as she gently wept. Ginny couldn't help but finally cry with her as well. She had witnessed everything that her friend had gone through, and it just wasn't fair. She wanted to be strong for her best friend but the unfairness of it all broke her down.
Hermione had always been kind to people. She was selfless and compassionate. Ginny knew this because her own fiancé and her brother loved and adored her to death. Without Hermione, Ginny knew that none of those two would even survive. She was a beautiful person, inside and out and she just didn't deserve this kind of torment. She deserved to be loved.
Both girls were still softly crying and holding each other when the phone rang. Neither of them had the strength to move nor let go so they let the machine answer it.
There was a beep in the receiving end and Theo's soothing voice entered the line.
"Hey, baby. How's my beautiful fiancée this morning? I'm sorry I wasn't able to call you last night to ask you about your dinner with one of the fundraiser's benefactors. We had an emergency. We raided some illegal dealers who sold some important artefacts from the Department of Mysteries. Because of the high level of secrecy surrounding it, we needed the Unspeakables to guide us inside. I'm sorry, I know you don't want hearing these things, but I thought I should let you know less you wonder why I wasn't able to call. You're still probably asleep right now. Call me when you wake up, okay? I want to hear all about the dinner. You've been quite nervous about it but I know you did well, anyway. Call me, alright? And don't forget to get some breakfast. You know I hate it when you skip your meals. I love you."
After the beep, Hermione broke down and cried again.
Song for the chapter: "The Scientist" by Coldplay (Draco's song for Hermione)
A/N: This chapter was not checked since my beta won't be able to start proof-reading it until after a week or so because of her exams. I already know just how late this update is and it's my entire fault so I decided I should just post it as soon as possible anyway even if it's not checked, so please excuse me if there are some missed grammatical errors and such. I'm usually very blind in checking my mistakes. I'll be editing this chapter anyway once my beta is back, so don't worry. :)
For the meantime, I really hope you like it. I love this story so much and I'm really intending to work on it as much as I can. I'm so sorry that my chapters are later than my usual updates. I'm just really weird lately. It's just that every time I sit and stare at the computer screen to type something, I just got NOTHING to write. Then when I'm busy or doing something else, or even when I'm asleep (weird), I'm suddenly being attacked by ideas and I knew then that I just needed to write it in an instant or I'll forget about it. Thus, the reason why I sleep with a notebook and pen under my pillow sometimes so I can write something even if I'm a bit groggy, lol. Another weird thing is I write better with a notebook and pen than with a laptop now, which is not who I really was before. Please tell me this happens to you sometimes too because I feel really weird. Maybe it's psychological on my part, haha, it's like having a specific on and off writer's block and having my muses in all the wrong instances. It's so damn annoying!
But anyway, thank you so much for being patient with me. You are all so lovely even if I make you all wait so long. I'm so sorry! I'm just really having a weird phase right now, I'll get over it. I love this story and I will never abandon it, so there. :)
Have a blessed day!
Sue