A/N: Still don't own Harry Potter. Special thanks to Chmi-Kat for being the most amazing alpha on this story and helping me make sense of all the ideas in my head. You get all the cookies (and pizza)! Lyrical inspiration for this chapter is It's For the Best by Straylight Run particularly the line "And I become content with this life that I lead, where I drink too much and don't believe in much of anything and I lie to myself and say it's for the best." Definitely suits Hermione's mindset. Without further adieu I leave you with Chapter Two. Enjoy! Comments are much appreciated!
With a crack, Hermione arrived at the cottage she shared with Ron in Godric's Hollow. Harry had decided to take up residence in the fateful village not long after Ginny fell pregnant with James. He had mentioned there was a cottage a few streets down that would be perfect for Ron and herself, if she felt like a change. So the Golden Trio now resided in the town that started it all. They had come full circle, it seemed, and living in Godric's Hollow just felt right.
She loved her quaint little cottage. Situated on the very edge of the town, there was a beautiful flower garden out front that had been there for years. Apparently, a previous owner had been a talented herbologist and had planted a lush garden of lavender, tulips, roses, asphodel, valerian, and countless other varieties of flowers, both Muggle and magic. With no effort on Hermione's part, the garden stayed perfectly maintained in a whimsical, wild way.
Unlocking the door and stepping into the foyer, she took in the staleness of the air. It seemed that the house had been empty since she left a few hours ago. She suspected there would be a note from Ron in with the rest of the post, explaining his whereabouts. Hermione tried to will herself to care, but truthfully she was thankful to not have to make small talk with her husband while her head was still cloudy from her encounter with Malfoy.
She slipped off her trainers and hung her coat on the hooks behind the door and walked into the living room, which opened into the kitchen with a breakfast bar acting as a divider. She strode over to the window to check the post basket she had hung there to catch the mail when no one was home to receive it. Tucking it under her arm, she settled on the plush white couch and perused the day's mail. There was the usual- Daily Prophet, The Quibbler, Young Witches Digest for Rosie. She set aside her statement from Gringotts to sort out later when she was paying the bills and focused on the shockingling pink envelope that had all the signs of being from her young daughter. She tore into the envelope and found a short letter as well as a few pictures. She set the pictures off to the side and scanned through the letter.
Mum and Dad,
You'll never believe the club that I joined! Quidditch! Cordelia Downing, the keeper for my year broke her arm somehow when she was home visiting last week so they held tryouts. I didn't mention anything before so I didn't jinx my luck. Aunt Ginny will be so proud! Don't tell her, please! I want to surprise her when I come home this weekend. I included a few pictures. Can't wait to see you on Friday! Dad, can you invite Uncle Harry and Aunt Ginny for dinner? Mum, can you make that beef stew that I love so much? Thanks!
Love,
Rose
Hermione smiled to herself and set the letter aside to show Ron later. She picked up the photos and saw one of Rosie zooming by on a broomstick, waving at the person taking the picture with a huge smile on her face. The second photo was what appeared to be a team photo, but a relaxed one. The players were all in their uniforms and had their arms slung around each other's shoulders. Rose beamed brightly from the back row; she had inherited her father's height and was quite a bit taller than her classmates.
Ron would be thrilled that Rose was showing an interest in Quidditch, and Hermione couldn't wait to see the look on Ginny's face when she found out. Ginny had played for the Holyhead Harpies until she became pregnant with Albus. Deciding it was going to too much work juggling the team and two children, she retired and now worked part time at the Daily Prophet as a sports reporter. Hermione didn't know who would be more excited about Rose's news- Ron or Ginny. The weekend was sure to be an exciting one and Hermione couldn't wait to see her daughter.
The choice to send Rose to a boarding school was not an easy one. It was Rose's idea: she had come across an article in Young Witches Digest about the benefits of boarding schools for students who were not yet of Hogwarts age. She approached her father and Hermione about it the summer she turned 8 and begged for them to allow her to attend. It was a hard battle to win with Ron, but finally they had agreed that she could do weekly boarding but she had to promise to come home every weekend. Rosie loved her school and Hermione was happy that her daughter wasn't there to sense the tension that was building in the house between her parents.
Hermione shuffled through a few more bills before finding a small scrap of paper with her husband's familiar handwriting scrawled on it.
Hermione,
Going out with Blaise for drinks after work, then meeting up with Harry to play Wizard's Chess. Don't wait up.
Ron
Well, that settles that, then, she thought as she set the mail on the end table by the couch and walked into the kitchen. Hermione quickly threw together a stir-fry and ate dinner in silence. She really should invest in a Muggle television to pass the time for when her mind was too busy to focus on a book. She muttered the spell to clean her dishes and put them back in the cabinet. She picked up the Quibbler and settled onto the couch with the magazine, though she didn't open it. With nothing to distract her, she felt her mind wander to the meeting with Malfoy that evening and what it meant. It's not like they were total strangers.
She can still remember the shock she felt the first time Malfoy showed up at the twice-monthly dinner parties that Ginny hosted. It had been two Autumns ago and she had offered the help Ginny cook dinner for the party. They had a Muggle radio, that Arthur had fixed to be able to work in close proximity to magic, blaring and they were dancing around the kitchen, singing off key and laughing. It was during such a laughing fit over Ginny's ridiculous dance moves that the alarm went off, signaling the arrival of someone through the wards. Ginny had her hands full, juggling the pizzas Hermione had picked up from Muggle London before arriving and was bringing them into the dining room, so Hermione offered to grab the door. Still laughing at Ginny, who was determined to shake her hips and carry food at the same time, Hermione walked to the door and wrenched it open. There stood Blaise Zabini, famously neutral Slytherin and Ron's partner at the Auror Department. Hermione had been expecting him: the Slytherins were always the first show up at these parties. She chalked it up to the proper pureblood upbringing that made them respect punctuality as a virtue. Her smile froze and then faded as she noticed a familiar blonde head appear from behind Blaise. She took a deep breath to calm herself and gripped the door to keep steady as she moved aside to let them enter.
"Hello, Hermione." Blaise nodded in greeting, "You look spectacularly joyous this evening," he complimented her before following her gaze to his companion, who had now entered the house and was standing patiently next to Blaise, a carefully blank expression on his face.
"Yes Granger, this is Malfoy. You've met, I'm sure," Blaise said sarcastically, reaching up and rubbing the back of his neck while eyeing the two cautiously. Noticing that she didn't seem to hear him, as she was still intently staring at Malfoy, Blaise tried again. "Ahem, Earth to Granger. Anyone home in that bushy head of yours?" He reached over and gently shook her shoulder.
Hermione jumped and quickly composed herself. "Yes, hi Blaise, good to see you," she bent in to kiss his cheek in greeting. "I wasn't aware you were bringing a guest tonight. Caught me off guard a bit."
She turned to face Malfoy, who was stilling standing patiently in the doorway, looking quite impassive to the situation. She caught a gleam of something -amusement?- in his eyes as she nodded her head in his direction. "Malfoy."
He nodded back. "Granger"
"That's Granger-Weasley, thank you very much," she said, narrowing her eyes at him. "Now come on, come in so I can shut the door. Blaise, you know where to put your cloaks and shoes. Make yourselves comfortable." And with that she turned on her heel and rushed back to the kitchen.
Ginny, noticing the expression on her face narrowed her eyes and asked "Everything ok, Mione? Who was at the door."
"Blaise."
"Oooookay, that doesn't explain the deer-in-the-headlights look on your face."
"With Malfoy."
Ginny's eyes widened. "Oh. Yes. Didn't I mention that I had kind of told Daphne to tell Blaise that Malfoy was welcome to attend?"
"No, Ginny, you most certainly did not mention that to me," Hermione seethed. "I was left standing there gaping like an idiot. And he just stood there with no expression on his face. WHY did you invite him?!"
"Well, I met up with Theo and Daphne last week and Daphne asked if I would consider inviting Malfoy. She said she feels bad because he's the only one out of her group of friends who has never been invited and she knows that we all have a rough history with him but she promised me that he has changed." Ginny shrugged and handed Hermione a pitcher of lemonade to carry into the dining room. "So I told her it was fine if she spread the word that he was more than welcome to come."
"Well you better have some alcohol on hand because I am not facing Malfoy sober." Hermione looked at her sister-in-law mortified. "Does RON know you invited Malfoy?"
Hermione saw the color drain from Ginny's face. "Oh.. oh my. Hold on, I need to floo call Harry and have him warn Ron. I really don't want to have to clean blood stains out of my carpet tonight."
Hermione braced herself and carried the lemonade to the dining room. The two Slytherin men were seated at the dining room table, Blaise was leaning towards Malfoy and talking softly.
"Some lemonade. Help yourselves." She gestured to the lemonade and the glasses she accio'd onto the table. She then turned to Blaise. "You're early, as usual. Are Theo and Daphne planning to make an appearance?"
"Yeah, any minute now actually. Pansy decided to pass, though. Maybe next time." Blaise stood and poured himself a glass of lemonade and then gestured to Malfoy. "Want some, mate?" Malfoy shook his head and turned his attention to his hands, quiet and stoic as ever. Blaise sat down and took a sip of his drink before turning back to Hermione. "So… do you know who else is on the guest list tonight?"
Hermione smiled knowingly. "Well, there's Neville and Hannah. Dean and Seamus. Terry Boot mentioned to me that he might stop in for a bit."
Blaise's face fell a bit. "Oh, smaller crowd that usual then."
"Oh, gee. I almost forgot! Of course, Luna will be here as well."
Blaise instantly brightened and then tried to cover it up. "Oh good! I mean, that's good that she could find the time, what with her traveling so much for work and such…" he trailed off, looking a bit embarrassed as he took another big sip of his drink.
"Yes, yes it is nice to see her." Hermione affirmed.
"And your husband? Will the Weasel be gracing us with his presence at this shindig?"
Hermione stiffened and turned her attention to Malfoy, who had his hands folded in front of him and was looking at her expectantly. She straightened her spine and turned to face him head on. "Yes, he'll be here. And you'd best be on your best behavior, Malfoy. Ron's temper hasn't improved much since Hogwarts and I will not be held responsible for his actions."
At that moment Ginny walked into the dining room, two cauldrons levitating in front of her that Hermione knew were filled with butterbeer. With a wave of her wand they flew to the center of the table, one on each side of the pizza boxes Ginny had brought in while Hermione was answering the door. Ginny's eyes widened at the sight of Hermione and Malfoy conversing. The ginger witch accio'd some napkins to the table and then turned and rushed out of the room, avoiding Hermione's gaze. "Chicken," Hermione thought to herself, watching her friend retreat back to the kitchen. With nothing else to distract her, Hermione sighed and turned her attention back to the blonde man sitting across from her at the table.
Malfoy held his hands up and looked offended. "Hey, I'm sitting here in Saint Potter's house, willingly socializing with Gryffindors. I'm not about to start problems. I'm just glad not to be drinking alone at home." He eyed her intently, gauging her reaction to his words. Blaise coughed and stood abruptly. "I'm just going to go check on Ginny, see if she needs help bringing anything else in from the kitchen. Play nice you two," he said, his voice teasing yet firm at the same time. He passed Hermione and squeezed her shoulder, shot a look at Malfoy and then strode from the room. Malfoy was still staring at her, his expression unreadable. Hermione sighed and pulled out a chair. As if by instinct, Draco rose from his chair and stood until she had sat down. When he saw her watching him, his cheeks turned the lightest shade of pink and he shrugged, brushing a hair from his eyes. "Old habits, and all. I was raised to stand when a lady is joining the table. As a sign of respect."
Hermione almost laughed out loud. Respect? Malfoy? To her? Not likely.
"So, Granger-"
She cleared her throat. "Granger-Weasley."
"Yeah… I'm just going to call you Granger." She narrowed her eyes, but said nothing. Malfoy continued, "Can we call a truce? I'm sure we can both agree I was an arse in school. More than an arse. I was despicable. But I'm working on it. Being here in this house should prove that to you. I don't want there to be any animosity between us."
Caught off guard, Hermione coughed before composing herself. "Despicable doesn't even cover it, Malfoy. You did unspeakable things. Witnessed unspeakable things." She shivered at the memory. Then, she sighed. "But, you were a child. We were all children. And while I don't agree with your side of the war, nor do I condone your actions whatsoever, I can agree to try to start over."
He visibly exhaled and Hermione realized he had been holding his breath. She stood to pour them both a lemonade, sliding his across the table to him, before raising her glass in a salute. "Just a warning though. One wrong move and I will not even hesitate to hex your bollocks off."
He met her gaze with his stormy grey eyes and raised his glass in the same fashion. "Understood" is all he said before sipping on his drink.
Not long after, Daphne and Theo arrived, followed shortly after by Ron and Harry. Harry surprised everyone by striding over to Malfoy and shaking his hand, welcoming him to his home. Ron, who had learned of Malfoy's presence at the fathering on his way over that evening, just stood at the table, staring Malfoy down. Unflinchingly, Malfoy stared right back but didn't say a word. Hermione stood and put a gentle hand on Ron's shoulder, distracting him from Malfoy by asking him about his day at work. He began telling her about the case he had started working on that day, and didn't even look at or acknowledge Malfoy at all for the rest of the night.
Over the course of that first dinner party, Hermione noticed a few things about Malfoy. One, his manners were impeccable. He stood every time one of the women sat at or left the table, nodding his head and ignoring the snickers from the Gryffindor men.
Two, he was exceedingly patient. After Luna arrived, Blaise had managed to leave a seat open between himself and Malfoy and, playing the role of the Slytherin gentleman, he had escorted Luna to that exact seat. Draco listened patiently and with appropriate interest as Luna told about her travels and the different creatures she was researching.
It was while Hermione was eavesdropping on their conversation that she heard Luna mention that Draco's aura was a delightful shade of dark blue, compared to the dingy grey it had been all throughout school. Draco asked what the colors meant and Luna launched into a detailed description. How the grey had represented depression and exhaustion, whereas the blue represented being a born survivor, though often it could indicate the person was quite moody and could be described as a control freak as well.
Draco nodded his agreement with that observation, and his eyes met Hermione's. He held her gaze as he murmured to Luna. "Well, we all know I can be a moody little ferret, don't we."
Hermione stifled a laugh as Luna just hummed and turned the topic to wrackspurts and a new repellant she was working on for them. Draco smiled a bit and Hermione averted her gaze, but felt her cheeks grow warm. She quickly struck up a conversation with Daphne and paid Draco little attention for the remainder of the evening. After that first evening, Malfoy was a regular fixture at the dinner parties. And with the arrival of Malfoy came the disappearance of Ron. More and more often, he was choosing to stay home for the parties, coming up with a whole host of reasons.
Though they hadn't had another one-on-one conversation since their truce at the first party, Hermione had learned that she could always count on Malfoy to meet her eye when someone said something she found amusing. More than once, she had to cover her mouth to stifle a laugh as she saw the amusement in his eyes. And when the topic turned difficult, as it was wont to do, especially at the parties held close to May the 2nd, she found herself seeking his steady grey eyes. Somehow they would calm her, even when she felt close to tears, as discussion turned to Mad Eye or Fred or little Colin Creevey.
When looking back over the course of their social interactions, Hermione could see why it had been so easy to open up to Malfoy at the pub. She had been instinctively relying on him for some time now. Moving from a reassuring glance across a table to sharing secrets at a bar wasn't a huge stretch, Hermione thought to herself.
Though she never would have imagined Malfoy to be the one she spoke to about her marital problems, she had to reason that of course she would choose someone as far removed from the situation as possible. It was like her mother had always told her growing up. "When seeking advice on a difficult situation go to the person most removed from the situation. You're more likely to receive honest advice when the person doesn't care about the outcome either way." she can hear her mother's voice reverberate through her mind.
That's all I'm doing, Hermione thought to herself. Malfoy wasn't invested in her personal life in the least. Not like Ginny or Harry or even Luna, who all have ties to both Hermione and Ron. Malfoy was a neutral party and therefore prone to brutal honesty, which is exactly what Hermione needed.
Hermione shook herself out of her reverie as she heard the door knob turning and looked up from the couch to see her husband walking in the front door.
"Oh, you're home." He paused, moving to hang his coat and remove his shoes, setting them on the Muggle shoe rack Hermione had insisted they use to keep from forming a tripping hazard.. He then headed for the stairs, pausing at the bottom and turning his attention to her. "I'm wiped. I'm going to hit the shower and go to bed. See you up there, yeah?"
Hermione nodded and watched him retreat upwards, feeling her heart sink a bit. What happened to getting a kiss hello, discussing their days, and talking until late into the night? She was constantly warring against herself. Part of her just didn't care anymore, while the other part longed for the passion to ignite in her marriage once again.
"Oh, to hell with it," Hermione muttered, rising from the couch and heading for the stairs, ascending them quickly before she could lose her nerve. She heard the water turn on and the sound of water on flesh as Ron stepped under the stream. She quickly stripped out of her clothing and slipped silently into the bathroom. Taking a deep breath, before she could talk herself out this rare act of intimacy, she slid the shower curtain aside. Ron jumped and turned to face her. "Gods, Hermione, what on Earth are you doing? You nearly scared me to death."
Stepping into the shower, she looked up into his face, which looked more put out over her intrusion that she would have liked, and opened her mouth to speak. "I just wanted to give you some company," she murmured, reaching out and putting both hands on his waist, pulling him into her. Or she tried to.
Ron stood resolutely in one spot, not even looking turned on in the slightest. He took her wrists and removed them from his hips before turning his back on her to face the spray of water. He stuck his head under, saturating his hair. Wiping a hand down his face to get the water out of his eyes, he sighed. "Not tonight, Hermione. I'm tired. I just want to shower and crash." Hermione felt her heart sink even further.
Not one to give up without a little bit of a fight, she reached around his waist and felt her fingers brush against his length. She opened her hand and gently stroked him, willing him to respond to her touch. She rested her forehead on his back and tugged on his cock. He didn't stop her, but he also didn't do anything to encourage her either. She kissed up and down his spine, still stroking his cock but not getting any reaction. She loosened her grip as he turned to face her.
He planted a gentle kiss on her forehead and reached around her for the shampoo. Lathering it in his hair and on his body, he methodically finished his shower before kissing her once more on the forehead and moving to get out of the shower. She reached out and grabbed his bicep, stopping him, before leaning up and kissing him on the lips.
He returned it, albeit chastely, and then smiled at her and stepped out, leaving her standing under the stream of lukewarm water, wondering what the hell had happened between them that his body didn't even respond to her touch anymore. When she heard his footsteps lead into their bedroom, she allowed herself to sit on the floor of the shower and cry.
The rest of the week passed by uneventfully. Hermione took off work on Friday so she could do some shopping to prepare for dinner with Rose that night. She apparated to Diagon Alley and headed down the cobblestoned street towards the wizarding bank, Gringotts, to pay for the month's bills before withdrawing extra gold so she could surprise Rose with a gift to congratulate her for her new role on the Quidditch team. Fortunately it wasn't a busy day, so she was in and out of the bank in no time. She then headed to Quality Quidditch Supplies, where she asked the salesman to assist her in purchasing a broom and gloves for Rose. She explained that Rose was tall and slender and a keeper for the team. After listening intently, the salesman showed Hermione a beautiful cherry wood broom that rivaled the Firebolt in beauty.
"This here's a Galaxy Glider. Perfect for the budding Quidditch star. It's built by the same company that makes the Firebolt and the safety standards are to the highest degree. There's a sticking charm to prevent falls, you can limit the height the broom can fly, the speed the broom can go, and there is an emergency cushioning charm that activates if it senses a sudden quick drop."
Hermione ran her fingers along the sleek body of the broom. "Perfect. I'll take it. Can you please wrap it for me? It's a gift. Also, I would like to purchase a pair of standard gloves for her, as well. I'm not sure if there are uniform restrictions so let's go with plain black gloves, please."
The salesman nodded and walked over the apparel section. Hermione followed behind him and they stopped when they reached the glove display. He showed her a few different options and she chose a simple leather pair that was water-resistant with high quality slip-proof grips. The salesman wrapped the gloves as well and Hermione paid for her purchases and thanked the salesman for his assistance. She put both packages in her beaded bag and then shuffled down Diagon Alley, past Gringotts and towards the more "grown up" shops. Here Hermione planned to visit Chadwick & Sons Grocers to purchase the ingredients for the beef stew that Rose had requested. After placing a cooling charm on the ingredients and placing them in her beaded bag she then decided to peruse the small, second-hand shops to pass the time. She found a beautiful scarf, a Holyhead Harpies sweatshirt, and a battered copy of Hogwarts: A History with notes scrawled in the margins that she couldn't wait to add to her ever growing collection of her favorite tome.
Feeling thoroughly relaxed and refreshed, she stopped in to Allura's Coifs and Cuts to have her hair trimmed and charmed into soft curls. She checked the time and decided to head home to begin preparations on the dinner for Rose, feeling more optimistic than she had in quite some time.
Ron was still at work when she arrived home. She went into the kitchen to prep the vegetables for the stew. With about an hour before she could start cooking,she skimmed through the Quibbler. Luna's subject this week was the Bumblesnout. From what she gathered, it was a creature that resembled an anteater and it could find water underground. Definitely more believable than nargles. Finally, at quarter to four, it was time to get the stew going. Throwing the ingredients into a pot, she got it simmering as she changed into a pair of form fitting jeans and a mint green sweater that hugged the curves she had worked hard to get back after Rose. She applied a sparse amount of makeup, just mascara and a lightly-tinted rose colored lip gloss. Ron came through the door as she was stirring the stew.
"Yum, smells amazing, Mione." He complimented her as he hung his jacket and walked into the kitchen.
"Thanks, Ron. Rose should be arriving by portkey in about half an hour. Harry and Ginny should be here any minute." She held the spoon out for him to taste the stew. "Can you set the table, please? And I bought a few things for Rose to congratulate her on making the team, they're in on the bed. Bring them down and set them in the corner of the dining room, please?"
"The stew is wonderful, as always." He said as he reached into the cabinets for the plates. He waved his wand and the plates flew to the table where they landed gently. Cutlery and glasses followed. "Accio Rose's gifts," he summoned the gifts from the bedroom and placed them in the corner. Then he picked up the Daily Prophet and settled onto the armchair in the living room.
"Honestly, Ronald, I know you're a wizard but would it kill you to simply carry the dishes to the table and walk into the bedroom to bring the gifts out?"
He looked over at her from his place in the living room. "Mione, don't start. I was on my feet all day today. I did what you asked. Just say thank you and move on."
She rolled her eyes. "All right, well. The stew is finished, I placed a warming charm on the pot to keep it from getting cold. Now we wait for Rosie to arrive home."
"Still didn't hear a thank you," Ron teased.
She clenched her jaw as she fought of the urge to retort something back at him. Just then the door opened and in walked Harry and Ginny with Albus toddling beside them.
"Hello, hello!" Ginny said as she wrangled Albus still so she could remove his jacket and shoes. "Just us three tonight. James wanted to go see Teddy so he flooed over to Andromeda's. Hope Rose won't be too upset to miss him." She hugged Hermione and sniffed the air. "Smells exquisite, Mione. Your famous beef stew?"
Hermione smiled at her sister in law. "Yes, Rose specifically requested it for dinner tonight. She should be arriving here any moment."
"Has she gotten used to traveling by portkey now?" Harry inquired, remembering how Hermione had told him and Ginny about Rose's first portkey experience and how it had ended with Rose swearing to never use another portkey for the rest of her life.
Hermione laughed. "Well she realized it was either portkey or wait in line at the floo for a good deal of time. Her impatience got the best of her and now she portkeys like a pro."
They heard the familiar whoosh that signaled the arrival of someone. The door opened and Hermione squealed and raced to the front door, throwing her arms around a tall, slender redhead girl with curls flying around her head.
Rose was home.