"There's something wrong here." Blaise muttered, running a hand over his haggard face. He hadn't had a decent night's sleep in over a week, the exhaustion evident in the bags under his eyes and the sunken cheekbones on his face. It wasn't that he hated the work; it just felt a bit too much at times.
Draco, who had been looking through a cluster of five feet tall file stacks, let out a yep followed by a curse, jumping back in shock as the entire make shift tower of files crashed around him. Blaise groaned in misery. That was going to take another hour of their time. Fucking awesome.
" Dude, you can't just mutter thinks from behind me. Not when I've been alone in a goddamn basement for four hours!" Draco complained, glaring at him.
"That's the least of our worries. Nott and his cronies are getting out of prison today."
Draco blinked in shock.
"So soon? We put them away for murder they shouldn't-"
"His father got the case reopened. Something about 'prejudiced opinions' and ' unsufficient evidence'-"
"Bullshit! He murdered her and you know it!" Draco hissed, looking beyond furious. Blaise could empathize. Pansy Parkinson Malfoy had been a bitch of the first order but she had loved Draco. In her own twisted way.
Blaise held a hand up in surrender , not willing to rile up his friend more than absolutely necessary.
"I know, Dray. But there's something more important. We need to tell Harry about him being out. You know he's going to be the first guy those bastards look for."
Draco stared in shock, ice cold worry settling into the pit of his stomach.
"They can't find him. He's here in London and they don't know that." He said firmly, willing his insides to settle. Blaise let out a snort of derision.
"Jesus, Draco what world are you in? We were part of their gang remember? When has Nott ever involved in his dirty deals without putting a tracker charm on any and all parties concerned? Paranoid bastard." Blaise scoffed, absently rubbing the small tattoo on his wrist .
Draco's gaze automatically shifted to the one on his own wrist. They'd gotten it during one of their undercover stints. Theodore Nott was a cruel, ruthless and sadistic bastard. The thought of him going anywhere near Harry made his blood go cold. Not that Potter couldn't defend himself. They all could.
After all, they'd trained together.
But that had been six years ago. They'd been painfully young and gullible, truly believing that they were helping to control evil. But they hadn't.
What did they say? Fighting for peace is like fucking for virginity?
And that's what they;d done. They'd fought with the so called 'monsters' , giving them ammunition to grow , giving them targets to attack. First rule of being an agent for the Order.
Forget your family. Forget your friends. Chances are they'll be targeted otherwise.
That hadn't stopped them though. Him, Harry and Blaise had been the first to sign up , letting the Ministry poke, prod and shape them into robotic shadows of their former selves, drilling their own ideals into their heads . For Draco and Blaise, it hadn't been any different from being in the Dark side. Except now they were fighting evil instead of abetting it.
But Harry had been different. He'd taken the training and the defense tactics , but he'd resisted the ideals. He had his own idea on how to deal with the bastards. A boy, forced to grow up way before his time. To someone who had been mollycoddled by his mother all his life, the thought of growing up without parents had been foreign and frightening. Yet, Harry had beaten all odds and grown up to be a better man than any of them could ever dream to be.
when the Order finally broke up officially, Blaise and Draco had become aurors, fully believed to see Harry move with them but he hadn't. Instead he'd married Ginny. Taken time off from real life, or so he said, moving to Italy.
They hadn't heard from him over a year.
Until that night in Venice, when one of Blaise's friends from the mafia had called to ask about some guy called Potter who claimed he knew Blaise. Did they know him? Because the boss was a few seconds away from chopping said green eyed bastard into bits and throw him into the nearest venetian river. Apparently he'd gotten into trouble by trying to hit on the boss' paramour.
Draco and Blaise had tripped over each other to get there on time. '
From then it was something of a routine.
Harry found new and improved ways to dig himself into a hole and Draco and Blaise found ways to dig him out.
But Theodore Nott had been one hole , they could've done without, damn Harry.
Sighing, Draco picked up his coat. He could only hope that Harry still answered knocks on his door with his wand drawn.
By Nine in the morning, Hermione had breakfasted (in bed) and showered. She felt oddly happy, all things considered. Once she'd packed her bags and made Harry some coffee, she let him lead her downstairs, accepting his offer to bring her lunch later that day.
"Are you sure you don't want me to come along?" Harry asked , peering out into the roads. The sky was steel grey and he could hear distant thunder, sending a warning flag of an approaching storm.
"Nah, I'm just going to open shop and make sure everything's fine. Besides, you'll meet me for lunch there, right?" she grinned and shrugged. Harry nodded thoughtfully, holding out her bag and opening the door.
Hermione pulled the coat tighter around her slim frame, baby bump pushing the fabric out. She had pink rabbit ear muffs and snow white mittens with paw prints. It was beyond adorable.
"Aren't you too old for those?" He laughed, shaking his head in disbelief. She grinned and gave him a thumbs up, before moving out into the streets.
Once she reached the bus stop, it was easy getting back to her shop. Twenty minutes later she entered the place, only mildly surprised to find it empty. She worked alone , most days. Unless Luna or Parvati joined her , but that was a rare occurrence. Besides , it was just Book store with an attached cafe, located in one of the sleepier parts of the county.
Most of her customers were regulars who stepped in with a smile, picked the latest newspaper or magazine off the kiosk and poured themselves their own coffee before ordering dessert. There were plenty of small armchairs or cozy little loveseats . Antique tables she'd salvaged from a dozen yard sales and an upholstery that was made entirely of mocha colored silk and lace, courtesy Draco and Blaise.
After opening the store for the day, she leaned back against her armchair, peering into the rain soaked streets.
A divorce seemed like a good idea. Not a new one, but definitely good. After finding her husband's shirt robes stains with gloss, nearly three years ago, she'd lost any residual delusions about him. But she'd hung on, with some misplaced sense of guilt. Especially when Ron insisted that it hadn't been him at all. That the girl had thrown herself at him and Hermione, you know how these fan girls are , besides you're my number one girl, you know that right?
But then that night had happened. Five months ago, on their anniversary. That had been something straight out of her dreams. A different Ron, a boyish Ron. Someone who had remembered every tiny little thing she'd ever liked and had worked the entire day to keep her happy. Someone who had held her like she was the most precious thing on the planet. Someone who talked and acted like he loved her. After years of feeling that anything physical between them was her paying for him feeding her, for the first time she'd felt like sharing her body and soul with him.
She'd remembered why she'd fallen in love with him in the first place.
And then she'd woken up alone, with nothing but mussed sheets to prove that he really had been there. When Ron had returned, two months later and she'd told him about being pregnant, he'd looked surprised. Worse, he'd looked suspicious and unbelieving like he hadn't...like he wasn't the father.
And he'd then stormed out.
As the knowledge that he didn't remember making love to her flashed through her mind, every ounce of love she'd held on to, the few last fragments of her affection had gone out with him.
The bell over the door chimed and she started, eyes widening and then narrowing as she watched Ron walk in, pulling his coat off and looking, for all the world, like nothing had happened the other night.
"What the hell do you think you're doing here?" she hissed, furious. He gave her an even stare.
"I was hoping you would have gotten over your stupid hysteria by now."
For a second , she was too outraged to say anything. Swallowing, she held her palm up.
"You better get out of here. Right now." she gulped, " I'll send the divorce papers to you. Till then, I don't want you stepping into my property."
Ron scoffed and threw his hands up in defeat.
"Jesus, Mia what do you want from me?! An apology?! Is that what this is all about? Fine, I'm sorry! Okay? "
Hermione had never seen anyone look less sorry in her entire life. She took a deep breath, willing herself to not pull her wand out.
"This isn't about you not apologizing, Ron. This is about you being a lying cheating bastard and me wanting you out of my life." She said quietly. Ron's eyes narrowed dangerously and he took a step closer . She hesitated, eyes darting to the door. She didn't want to hex him, not really. But if push came to shove...
"Okay, I can see why a night with Saint Harry Potter should make you think you can do better for yourself. But let's face it Mione. You're used goods and he can definitely do better." He gave her a slight cajoling smile , like he was talking sense. She could feel her face burn at the insult. What had she ever seen in this monster?
He took another step closer and her wand was out.
"I don't want to hurt you, Mione. Come on, put that thing away. We're married and that's something that lasts forever. You can't just throw something like marriage away. It's a binding contract. For better or for worse, Till death do us part."
The door bell chimed again, making them jump in shock.
"till death do us part, huh? That can be arranged Ronald." Harry smiled, the corners of his lips perking up, even as he leaned against the door frame, surveying the drama with relaxed patience, hands in his pockets and lean hips resting on the oak paneled frame. Hermione felt relief flood her senses in one big whoosh and she all but sank against the nearest armchair.
"You alright, Mione?" Harry asked, eyes darting to her quickly and clearly saying don't worry, I got this.
Ron stared at him, fingers curling into fists on his side.
"I should've knocked you out when I had the chance you arrogant bastard." Harry said evenly, glaring daggers at him. Ron laughed derisively, fingers edging to his wand but resting on the waistband of his jeans.
"Oh, please Harry. If there's anyone here who should be called a traitor , it's you. Wife of best friend is generally off limits. But you've never played by those rules, have you? Isn't that why my pretty little sister dumped your sorry ass in the first place? "
Hermione stared at him in shock, willing herself to swallow the bile that threatened. She'd stood with these boys once, when they were kids. Watched them battle for each other, bleed for each other and here they were , stabbing each other with false accusations and threats.
"Actually, Ronald. I'm pretty sure she left because she couldn't keep her unfaithful self in a relationship. And looks like it runs in the family, doesn't it?" Harry gritted out, wondering why he was listening to this. Why he hadn't just stepped up and punched him in the face.
Maybe because he knew that deep down, he'd betrayed her as much as Ron had.
Ron smiled, soft and evil, his eyes never leaving Harry's.
"Surely, you don't think she'd going to come to you, Harry? Can you imagine what would happen if she were to know? To know what you really did?" He taunted, fingers still fluttering over his waistband. Harry felt the blood rush out of his face.
"Alright that's enough! Get the hell off my property Ron, or I'm calling Draco."
Ron turned his gaze to her, smiling serenely.
"I'll leave , Mia. Take care of ..." he glanced at Harry," our son."
The door slammed shut behind him .
A/n : Reviews are love :)