"Everything." That one word on his lips paired with the heat of his body and the intensity of his eyes burning into hers turned the electricity within her into a firestorm. It raged on in a way she'd never experienced, coursing through her chest as she leaned into his touch, pouring through her limbs when she twisted her hands in his hair and pulled his face back down to hers, and showering sparks between her thighs as she twisted one leg around his, aching for release.
Her lips parted, pulling him in and overriding her senses with the taste of him on her tongue. Every ounce of self-doubt she'd felt over the last few days, every worry about where they stood or how he felt for her, was abandoned, leaving room only for this moment, this kiss, this touch. Her mind felt both overwhelmed and barren, a feeling she wasn't accustomed to at all, but it was exhilarating to no longer be absorbed with everything, her past and their potential future.
Her only rational thought was more. Morecontact against his skin. More of his touch against hers. More of his taste on her tongue. More of whatever this was between them.
His hands were beneath her shirt, teasing across her bare skin, feather soft and tentative, but when she slid hers up his chest and then around his back and pulled him closer to her, angling her hips into his, his fingers clung to her, gripping her like a lifeline, tighter and more heated to match the burning in her center.
He leaned back, and her fingers clutched to his back as she held him to her, thinking he was trying to stop them again. She wasn't sure she could make it through that again. This burn felt like an inferno and she wanted, needed, to feel him. But he didn't stop. He leaned up, his chest rising and falling quickly as he struggled to hold it in, the same fire she felt, and his eyes searched her face. When he found the reassurance he was looking for, he licked his lower lip and asked, "Can I touch you?"
She could do nothing but nod. The words were stuck in her throat, refusing to budge after the smoky quality of his voice made her heart stutter. Even if she'd been able to, she feared that if the words got out, they'd be some unintelligible mess as every inch of her felt taut and jittery. Her hands shook against his chest as he brought his mouth back to hers and took her breast in his palm.
A moan escaped her when his thumb traced a slow circle across one hardened peak, causing her back to arch almost involuntarily. He broke their kiss to trail kisses along her collarbone, and the sound of her own heavy breathing filled the tent around them. The pressure between her legs was building with each lap of his tongue across her skin… but when he bit down gently, pinching her skin between his teeth, she felt the all-too-familiar tightening in her chest begin.
No, no, no, she thought, trying to pull her mind back to this moment, back to Draco, but she was already careening out of control.
She gripped his back, but he hadn't noticed yet the change in her demeanor. In her mind, it wasn't Draco who was planting sweet kisses along her throat but Greyback tearing into her flesh. He kissed her again, and she tried desperately to stop it, feeling the burn of tears in the corners of her eyes as she clenched them shut. His hand left her shirt, caressing her stomach as he traveled south down her body, and she felt like she was falling, grappling onto his back for support as she sank into a panic.
His hand stopped at the juncture of her thighs and her whole body went rigid. Immediately, like a flame doused in cold water, all the desire was gone, leaving her shaking and breathing even heavier now. Instead, just like every time before, she felt nothing but shame and humiliation pouring off her like smoke from the ashes.
He stopped and pulled away from her, and she steeled herself for the same questions that Ron always had before she stopped allowing herself to ever be this vulnerable with him.
What did I do?
Are you okay?
I thought you wanted this.
Her eyes were shut tight, blocking away any type of hurt or accusation that she feared she'd see reflected back at her in his, when she felt his hand on her cheek.
"Look at me," he said, and she couldn't stop it when she felt a tear spill over, rolling down her face and into her ear. Her breaths were coming out shakily as she tried to push the images of Greyback out of her mind, his hands on her throat, his tongue across her face, his body pressed against her, his stench choking her throat.
"Look at me," Draco said again, his voice soft and pleading, and she opened her eyes, afraid of what she'd see.
But instead of hurt or anger, she saw only compassion written across his features. "It's okay, Hermione. We don't have to do anything." She searched his face for the lie, the frustration at having been rejected, but found none. "It's okay," he said, leaning down to lay his forehead against hers.
Removing her hands from his shirt, she rested them on either side of his face, brushing her thumbs across his stubble and down to his pulse points. "I'm so-"
"Don't say that. Don't apologize." He leaned up so he could look at her again, the look on his face emphasizing his words. "You didn't do anything. I'm sorry. I was pushing and –"
"No," she interrupted. "No, I wanted to. I do want to. I just don't know how to turn it off. I keep seeing… I keep thinking…" She was so tired of continuing to lose herself and parts of her life to the war. When would it ever be over? She took a deep breath, feeling it rattle as she exhaled, and pushed back the emotions – frustration, anger, guilt, desperation. "I just want to have something fucking normal for once."
He sighed and kissed her again, brushing his fingertips along her lower lip when he pulled away. "Can I try something?" When her brow furrowed as she gave him a weak nod, he continued, asking, "Do you trust me?"
"Yes," she said, without hesitation, though her stomach was churning at the idea that no matter what he tried, she'd just become a sobbing mess again.
"We can stop anytime you want to." He nodded encouragingly, seeking her understanding that she was in control, and she knew he'd never hurt her; he'd never do anything that she wasn't comfortable with. When she nodded back, he kissed her again, and his tongue flicked across her lips, once again requesting her permission.
She opened to him and tried to keep her breathing controlled and her mind here in this tent and not in the forest surrounded by Snatchers.
When he pulled away again to look down at her, he said, "Keep your eyes open." He ran a hand through her curls, pushing them away from her face. "Stay right here, and if it's too much, just tell me, okay?"
"Okay," she said, and in her voice, she heard a conviction she didn't know she possessed.
When he kissed along her jaw, she fought the urge to close her eyes and instead looked at the parts of him she could see and the roof of the tent above her. His hair was tousled from her hands running through it, and his cheeks were flushed. Her heart began to quicken again, but it was the heat in the moment rather than fear.
His mouth connected with hers, and she noticed a faint beauty mark just below his left eye. She'd been this close to him before, but she'd never had the ability to so freely look at him. His eyes were closed, giving her liberty to take him in in a way she'd never done before.
She thought, as his hands graced across her neck and his tongue ran circles along hers, that whoever initiated the rule of having to close your eyes while kissing was an idiot. She watched his face as his eyebrows furrowed every so often and she felt him smile against her lips when she moaned, his hand running along her sides and his thumb brushing over her breast again. The fire had returned now and every time her mind tried to pull her back to that night in the forest or to any of her nightmares ever since then, she found his face, reminding herself where she was and who she was with, like a totem anchoring her in this moment.
He pulled away again to look down at her, hesitating and seeking permission before putting his hand back beneath the hem of her shirt. When she offered him a smile and nodded, he explored her skin, his hands soft and warm beneath her clothes. With her eyes open, watching him, she saw the way the lamplight reflected off the platinum in his hair and how his pupils dilated when she angled her hips toward his again, feeling him hard against her thighs.
He paused again, looking toward her face for confirmation as his hand stilled just below her hips. "Is this okay?" He'd asked her this question multiple times now, often when they kissed and the first time she'd woken up in his bed, and every time it made her feel safe and empowered. Channeling those feelings in order to answer him, she placed her hand on top of his, her palm resting on the back of his hand and their fingers laced together, and guided him down past her hips, to the parts of her that ached for his touch.
The warmth of his hand added to the heat of her center as her body hummed like a current. He caught the gasp that poured from her lips as his mouth came down on hers and every inch of her felt awake, pulsing with exquisite flame. She was weightless but tense all over, her body quivering and clinging to him and her fingernails digging into his back as the building in her core continued, pulling her closer and closer to the peak.
The soft, sweet warmth of him was so different from the rough hands that had touched her before. He was all soft, accepting, and warm, whereas Greyback had been hard, cold, and demanding. Draco was constantly seeking her permission, making sure she knew she was in control, never needy or selfish with his touches against her skin. The shame came back momentarily at how she could have ever confused the two, but she pushed it away, focusing instead on his face in front of her.
His hand left her center and moved back toward her waist, and her body groaned with the absence. He stilled above the zipper of her jeans and searched her face again.
Before he could ask the question, she said, "Yes," her words coming out breathlessly as she unzipped them herself. All memory of anything but this moment ceased to exist; her mind was fixated on him, the way the sound of his breathing mixed with hers and the way his eyes had turned almost black with desire, and the sensations she was feeling, the kisses he was trailing across her neck as his hand dipped beneath the seam of her knickers. No one had ever touched her this way before, and the feeling was too intoxicating for her to feel anything but want.
The second he slid across her sex, her back arched and her hands gripped the sleeping bag beneath her. With every soft stroke of his fingertips, every kiss and nip along her throat, she felt like she was being wound tighter and tighter, like a spring waiting to snap. She sought his face with one hand, pulling his mouth to hers, breathing into him, no longer able to hold in the wanton sounds escaping her. She felt both fragile and emboldened, ready to break at the slightest touch and also stronger than she'd ever felt.
The coil inside her twisted tighter, building electricity throughout her core, as his fingers, slick with desire, caressed her. Unable to stop it, her eyes closed finally as she fell apart, colors erupting behind her eyelids and her entire body pulsating as she came with a shudder and his name on her lips.
They lay there, both of them breathing heavily and Hermione coming down from the high of her very first orgasm at the hands of anyone but herself.
Mine never felt like that, she thought with a soft smile. When she opened her eyes, she found him looking down at her, flushed cheeks and grey eyes smoldering almost black in the dim light as he searched her face.
"Normal?" he asked, a faint smile curving across his lips.
She smiled, kissing him softly, and said, "Gods, if that's normal, then I can't imagine what extraordinary feels like."
He chuckled and removed his hand from her pants. She wouldn't have thought it possible, but his eyes darkened even further as he took his finger in his mouth, his lips wrapping around it, reawakening the ache inside her. He exhaled deeply and licked his lips, and before she could stop she was kissing him, wanting to taste herself on his tongue. That wasn't ever anything she'd considered before, having thought it was nauseating when Ginny mentioned it to her before, but something about the need on his face, a look she'd never seen aimed at her from someone who she wanted to give herself to, made her want to experience everything with him.
With that thought in mind, she banished her self-doubt and firmly grasped the bulge in the front of his pants, eliciting a moan from him as his eyes closed and his jaw clenched. He opened his eyes, taking her in, before saying, "You don't have to do that. I mean, it's okay if you don't –"
"Just show me what to do." She kissed him again, twisting her tongue around his own once before moving along his jaw, his stubble scratching across her lips as she nipped along his skin. But then she stopped, remembering what he'd said to her the one and only time they'd discussed their previous sexual experiences.
"Sometimes it's hard to turn everything off in my head," he'd said, as they lay in his bed, both of them opening up about their own difficulties with sex.
What if he doesn't want to? She stopped touching him, pulling her hand away and looking to him for reassurance in the same way he'd done for her. "If that's okay. If you don't want to, it's okay."
"Oh, I very much want to," he said, with the roguish smirk that he could trademark. "But I don't want you to feel like you have to."
She brought her lips back to his neck, pushing softly so that he was on his back with her above him now. "I don't feel like I have to," she said, flicking her tongue just below his jaw and reveling in the groan he made in response. "I want to." She kissed along his throat, stopping to suck at his pulse point as she sought out the front of his trousers, feeling the length of him, hot and firm beneath her hand.
When she heard him sigh as she pressed harder, she determined that being delicate wasn't the right way to go. "I don't really know what I'm doing," she said, resting her hand along his belt. He turned his head to face her, and she leaned down to kiss his lips as he undid his belt and slid his trousers down past his hips. She smiled into his kiss, and said, "But I'm a fast learner," eliciting a soft chuckle from him, which died quickly in his throat when her hand dipped inside his boxers. She wrapped her hand around him, his skin smooth and warm in her palm, and he shivered as he bit back a moan.
"Show me how to touch you," she said, sliding her hand further down. She buried her face in his neck, planting soft kisses along his jaw and ear. It's true she had no idea what she was doing, but she'd never felt more powerful. She'd helped defeat the darkest wizard the world had ever seen, but somehow, having Draco moaning beneath her touch made her feel powerful in a way she never had before. She felt his hand over hers, guiding and teaching her.
He tightened his grip around her hand and said, "Harder." His voice was gruff and deep across her ear, sending a wave of heat to swirl in the pit of her stomach. She looked down, watching the way their hands moved across his skin, and she felt his breath catch as she rotated her hand slightly, twisting her wrist with each stroke.
His hips jerked and his hand fell away from hers as he twisted his fingers gently in her hair, pulling her face to his. Their lips met, and she continued, her hand moving a little faster and she felt him twitch beneath her grip. She kissed him back, twirling her tongue along his and watched as his brows furrowed.
"I'm… I'm going to come." His breath quickened, and the hand in her hair pulled slightly, not painfully, but enough to leave her panting as well.
She tightened her grip slightly, kissing along his neck again. With two more strokes, he groaned, his hips bucking, and warmth spread along the outside of her hand. His breath was labored as she turned to kiss him again, smiling to herself and feeling that same surge of empowerment at having been the one to elicit that reaction in him.
She pulled her hand away, and that emboldened feeling died a quick death as she realized, now I really don't know what to do.
Before she could think too much about it, he'd picked up her wand from beside them and wordlessly cleaned himself and her hand. He tossed her wand back behind her and righted himself before falling back down onto his back with a sigh. He rolled toward her and his mouth curved into a satisfied grin. Tucking an arm beneath his head, he tugged on her thigh, pulling her leg around his hip and her closer to him.
"Normal?" she asked, repeating his question back to him. He shook his head slightly, the tiny flecks of blue returning in his irises, as his hand brushed her hair across her shoulder.
"Extraordinary," he said, with a smile as he pressed his lips to hers.
After their eventful night on Friday, Draco's mood seemed completely different than the days prior. In fact, it seemed to Hermione that he'd just been looking for some sort of reassurance that this was more than just a passing fling for her. They'd both agreed that now wasn't the best time to fill everyone in on their relationship, but both of them were at least now aware that it wasn't out of any sort of shame or fear of the blowback they'd receive; they just weren't ready to share it with anyone, but the word yet seemed to be hanging in the air at least.
Saturday went by much smoother for them all; they'd even all managed to catch at least a single fish, though Nicola was beating them all in sheer numbers. As astonishing as it was to see Nicola fishing at all, the smile on her face as she reeled each of them in was enough to believe Walt was onto something when he talked about "wilderness therapy." Nicola hadn't seemed this comfortable and carefree in the entire time Hermione had known her. Just being able to see such a change in her friend made the trip definitely worth it for Hermione… and, if she were being honest, the obvious change between her and Draco was a delicious added bonus.
Throughout the day, any time they had a moment alone, he never missed the opportunity to kiss her senseless up against a tree or just over the next ridge away from the rest of the group. She wasn't at all complaining, of course. She'd never felt so wanted, and it made her sink into him at every turn.
However, as soon as they'd finally begun to appreciate their time in the wilderness, the crisp Fall breeze on their skin and the smell of running water and pines in the air, it was Sunday, and they were hiking back to The Willows, but each of them with a renewed dedication and uplifted spirit.
After a quick bite and a long and luxurious shower, Hermione and the others sat outside on the deck waiting for their guests to Apparate in.
The first crack sounded, and Blaise appeared, dashing as always in a charcoal suit, with Pansy following closely behind. Hermione smiled to herself when Draco's hand squeezed her thigh briefly beneath the table before he stood to greet his friends.
After Dean arrived, Apparating in Dennis' mother and little sister, only Hermione and Nicola remained waiting for their guests. After only a few moments, Harry arrived, still in Auror robes from his monthly weekend rotation, and Ron dropped in seconds after. Hermione turned to Nicola, not wanting to leave her alone to wait, unsure if Daphne was going to show or not.
"You're welcome to stay and visit with me and my friends if you'd like," Hermione said. Nicola smiled. It was genuine, albeit slightly sad, but the light in her eyes remained, and Hermione was glad to see that the change in her lingered despite the current circumstances.
"It's okay," Nicola said. "I know she isn't coming." Hermione reached across the table, taking Nicola's hand in hers, and started to apologize, but Nicola spoke again. "I'm okay, Hermione. I promise."
Ron and Harry made it up to the porch as Nicola stood to leave, nodding toward them on her way back inside. Ron pulled a bag from his pocket and enlarged it, revealing some of his mother's Tupperware.
With a flourish, he took off the lid and said, "Mum made you onion soup."
Hermione's stomach gave a growl at the smell of one of her favorite comfort foods. After five days of freeze-dried meals and trout, Hermione couldn't have felt more blessed to have a second mother in Mrs. Weasley.
"Tell her she's my favorite person in the world, please. Though, she'd probably curse you if she knew you were carrying my dinner in your pocket," Hermione said, unable to resist ribbing Ron a bit.
"Well, it was my idea, so surely you wouldn't snitch on me. I remember how much you enjoy camping food," he retorted with a grin. "I figured you'd need some sustenance after a week of nuts and berries."
She laughed, remembering all their nights on the run, with little more than whatever they could scavenge to live on every night, and she was immediately thankful for the fresh fish and even the freeze-dried meals. She couldn't hold in a self-satisfied smirk as she said, "Actually, I caught a fish if you can believe it. Then, I cleaned it and ate it."
She felt a bubble of pride grow in her chest at the impressed looks they both wore, until Ron said, "I didn't realize it was so easy, or I would've brought along a fishing pole back in our camping days."
"It was not easy, thank you very much. It actually took three days of being berated by Walt before any of us got the hang of it." Hermione took a bite of her soup, sighing contentedly, before a thought struck her.
"How did you know we were camping?" she asked, looking toward Ron.
He'd torn off a chunk of her roll and was mid-bite when the question caught him off-guard, and his eyes darted toward Harry before landing back on Hermione. "Umm… Harry mentioned it, I think… didn't you tell me that?" He glanced back toward Harry, and Hermione noticed the blush crawling up his cheeks.
She looked at Harry to find him looking back and forth between her and Ron just as flummoxed by his odd behavior. "I didn't know they were going camping until you told me yesterday."
"Oh… umm… I'm not sure who told me then." He finished the bite of roll in his hand and turned to look across the yard, as if that was answer enough.
"O—kay, then," Hermione said, looking toward Harry for some clue, but he only shrugged. Harry, being the amazing friend he was, took the conversation in another direction, asking Hermione about their camping trip, particularly her newfound fishing skills, getting Ron and his strange demeanor off the hook.
Hermione found that this visit went by much smoother than ones they'd had in the past, and she didn't feel nearly as off or distant from her friends at all, despite Ron's erratic behavior. He'd begun speaking again, pulling back from whatever it was he was very obviously hiding and joining in on the conversation. It was strange though; nothing had changed with her friends. They were the same people they'd been. They had never stopped caring for her, and they'd never treated her as an outsider.
Was it me all along? Had the wedge she felt between them been her own doing, or even in her own imagination? Clearly, if something had shifted it had more to do with her own state of mind than any actual standing she had with her friends, and immediately she felt a sense of shame at having ever thought that their relationship had changed at all.
Shut up, she told herself, having taken this as her mantra more than anything else. She supposed that said something about her state of mind as well, but it wasn't exactly "negative self-talk," as Alys was always harping on her about. Her mind wandered again toward Draco, and she glanced over Harry's shoulder to where Draco and his friends were sitting. She knew it was probably rude that she only got to see them once a week and already she was drifting toward wanting the visit to be over so she didn't have to pretend she wasn't falling for –
Shut up! She definitely wasn't going there, couldn't go there. Draco glanced at Hermione as he pretended to watch Pansy take some of their trash inside, and he gave her a secret smile.
She smiled to herself, looking down before either of her friends noticed, and started to gather up her bowl and silverware.
"I'll get that," Ron said, causing Hermione and Harry both to look at him in surprise. "What?" he asked, eyes shifting between the two of them. "Always the tone of surprise with you two," he said, shaking his head as he walked inside.
The moment the door closed behind him, Hermione turned to Harry and said, "Well, he's certainly hiding something."
Harry looked sheepish, his eyes drifting toward his hands in his lap. "I… I think he's seeing someone," he said as he glanced back up at Hermione, his lips scrunched in guilt as if he were doing something wrong.
"Stop looking at me like that," she said, with a laugh. "Did you think I'd be upset?"
"I wasn't sure. He hasn't even told me that; he's just been really flakey lately, bailing on plans and busy all the time. I thought perhaps that's why he didn't want to tell us. Maybe he thought you'd be hurt."
Hermione smiled and shook her head. "I definitely wouldn't be hurt." She liked where she and Ron stood now, friends once again, without the cloud of some sort of relational expectation between them, and the last thing she wanted was for him to think that she'd be hurt or upset with him once he was with someone else. Then, she realized that not once had it crossed her mind that Ron might be hurt as well – not that she was with Draco, of course he'd be angry about that – but just that she was with anyone at all, after having such difficulties being with him.
I'm an awful friend, she thought. She stood up, and said to Harry, "I'm… I'm going to go talk to him. I don't want him to think he has to hide things like that from me. I'll be right back."
She walked inside, heading to the kitchen, still feeling a little guilty at not having even considered his feelings. Obviously, she knew he'd be upset to know she was with Draco, someone he hated more than anyone else in the world, but she hadn't even thought about how he would react to knowing she was with anyone at all. Seeing as though he was likely dating someone as well, perhaps he wouldn't be bothered either. She pushed her feelings of guilt away, thinking that this was actually a good step for both of them, and rounded the corner into the kitchen. She came to a dead stop in the doorway, unable to really comprehend what it was she was seeing. She blinked a few times, unwilling to accept that what she was seeing was truly happening.
Ron, her best friend for a decade, a man who she'd seen at his best and certainly at his worst, a person who she thought she knew almost as well as she knew herself, currently had Pansy pressed up against the refrigerator, snogging her in a way that was entirely too reminiscent of his days with Lavender. One hand was on the outside of her thighs, sliding higher and higher beneath her skirt, and Pansy's were in his hair. All at once, it came back to her. This wasn't Ron being caught snogging some random person or even some mutual friend of theirs. This was Ron snogging Pansy.
She couldn't even control it. She would have, had she been able to. But it was as involuntary as breathing. She shuddered in disgust and cringed… audibly…and apparently quite loudly as they stopped at once and turned to face her.
The haughty look on Pansy's face paired with a look of complete shock and terror on Ron's was too much. Hermione turned tail and ran out of the kitchen, seeking the safety of the porch, or at least the safety of no longer being in the same room with the two of them alone. She wasn't at all hurt… but she was disgusted. Then, Ron's face stuck in her mind, and the moment she made it onto the porch, the giggles erupted.
She stepped out onto the patio and bent at the waist, unable to contain the fit of laughter that poured out of her. She knew they were all looking at her, every one of the others at The Willows as well as their guests, but she couldn't help it.
Harry was immediately at her side, asking, "Hermione, what happened?" The look on his face just added to the hilarity of the situation. He seemed to be under the impression that her conversation with Ron had upset her somehow, and she bent over again, trying to breathe to stop it. Now, Draco and Blaise were there too, each of them looking back and forth between her and Harry. She'd finally gotten it under control, stopped the tears that were running down her face and calmed herself.
But then Pansy and Ron stepped out of the double doors, Pansy barreling out as if she dared anyone say something to her and Ron creeping behind her as if he were expecting birds to attack. The fear on his face brought it all back, and she busted out laughing again, clutching at her aching abs.
"They… they… Gods, I can't…" She couldn't even get the words out, and now, everyone could at least tell that the tears were from her inability to hold in her laughter not from being hurt or upset. But they were all still looking at her, now as if she had certainly lost her mind. Of course, that just made it worse. Her shoulders shook as she fell into a boneless heap of unadulterated laughter.
"Ron … they're… they're…" The best she could do was point at the two of them. Finally, when everyone seemed to turn their focus from her to Ron and Pansy, Hermione watched the moment when everyone else's gaze shifted from their face down to their hands, clasped together in solidarity for whatever they were coming to face now that their friends were aware of their relationship.
Hermione covered her mouth, trying to hold in the giggles again, though it was just as difficult. Harry and Blaise both looked astonished, at a loss for words, but Draco… Draco looked appalled. Somehow that made it even more hilarious. As disgusted as she'd been to see Ron kissing Pansy of all people, it had to be just as bad for him, if not worse, to see Pansy with Ron.
But then, she looked back at Ron, and it didn't seem as funny anymore. He wasn't sheepish or scared any longer; instead, he looked hurt, likely at her laughter, thinking it was at his expense, and then he looked angry, though to be fair, that seemed more to be aimed at Draco's obvious look of revulsion.
Hermione wiped her face, chastising herself at having once again not thought about his feelings. "Ron, I… it was just your face. It isn't funny that you're … you know," she motioned between the two of them flippantly. "It's funny because you looked so worried. Like you'd been caught with your hand in the cookie jar and not Pansy's sk-" The retching sound she made at just the mention of Ron's hand in that slag's knickers probably didn't help her case at all, because his face immediately turned crimson.
"I'm sorry, I'm sorry. It's just… a lot." She chuckled once more, trying her best to look apologetic.
Harry spoke up, once again her knight in shining armor. "At least you know she's not mad at you, mate," he said, clapping Ron on the shoulder.
"Not a bird in sight," Seamus said, unable to hold in his laughter either at the other end of the porch, and they all turned to see that the rest of the guests had overheard the entire conversation. Ron's face turned a shade darker, and he turned to leave.
"Ron, wait," Hermione said, as he made it halfway to the Apparation point. "I'm sorry. I didn't mean to laugh. It wasn't at all intentional." He stopped and turned back around, still not speaking, but it was very obvious that he was upset. His brow was furrowed, and his blue eyes were tense.
"It's really okay, you know. If Pansy" – she shuddered slightly at her name – "makes you happy, then I'm happy. It's just going to take a bit of getting used to. You do know she absolutely despises me, right? You saw her a few weeks ago when –"
The words caught in her throat. She started to say a few weeks ago, when she was so angry with me about Theo.
She thought Draco had been the one to tell Pansy, had hit him over it actually, but he'd swore to her that it wasn't him. Now, the guilty look on Ron's face as the words stopped dead on her lips, she knew it hadn't been Draco.
"You… you told her?" Hermione's voice was little more than a whisper, the mirth of moments ago completely gone from her chest, as if it had never been there, replaced now with the feeling of hurt and betrayal. She knew. He didn't even have to answer. The truth was written all over his face. Not only had he told her, but then, after the way she'd talked to Hermione afterward, he'd clearly stayed with her regardless. All the guilt she felt earlier at having not considered his feelings at all before starting this relationship with Draco evaporated like rain on hot asphalt.
"'Mi, I didn't mean to. I was trying to tell her that we'd all made mistakes too, that we-"
"So, you used mine?" She was shaking now, fighting to control the indignation and anger that was radiating off her. Tears burned in the back of her throat as she tried to hold them back. "What, you didn't have any of your own to share?"
The others had followed them into the yard, now that her voice had risen and there was clearly nothing funny about the situation any longer.
"It wasn't just yours, 'Mi. It was –"
"You had no right!" she yelled, pushing him away from her after he'd taken a step closer, looking as if he wanted to touch her. He had the audacity to try and comfort her when it was him, him once again, who'd been the one to hurt her in the first place."I don't know how I ever thought you had changed."
She knew she was probably overreacting. She knew he'd never hurt her intentionally. And yet, he always had. She'd always told herself that it wasn't intentional, that he was just oblivious, that he just didn't understand. But she thought those days were over. She thought that in the last two years he'd grown into someone else, someone who wasn't blinded by his own selfishness, but he hadn't. Even if it was accidental, didn't that say a lot about his character as well? That he'd be so flippant about secrets she'd shared with him in confidence, things that she'd never felt strong enough or safe enough to share with anyone else.
"I thought you'd grown up, Ron. I thought you weren't that same self-centered little boy you used to be, the same one who didn't care about me or my feelings, the same one who abandoned us!" She spat the words at him, hoping that he felt as wounded as she did, and not feeling an ounce of remorse at the pain that flashed across his face.
"You certainly had me fooled." She wiped the tears from her face, offended that they'd chosen now to fall. She didn't want him to see any more of her weakness, nothing else that he could ultimately use to hurt her once again.
She turned to walk away, ignoring his calls behind her. She expected Harry to leave with him, thinking it would be a repeat of the times when he'd chosen Ron over her, chosen his feelings over hers, but he didn't. She heard him tell Ron, "You're an idiot. You're my best mate, but you're an idiot."
She heard someone behind her, and expecting it to be Harry, she said, "I'm fine, Harry. You don't have to stay." But when she felt a hand on her lower back, she turned to see Draco looking down at her.
"You're not fine," he said, brushing a tear from her face. "I'm a bit offended myself." She thought he was referring to having been called Harry, but then he said, "You didn't even hit him. I distinctly remember hitting and swearing. Hardly seems fair." He pulled her hair behind her ear and gave her a small smile.
"You're incorrigible," she said softly, smiling at him despite her sadness.
"Yes, but I made you smile, so it's worth it."
She wanted to kiss him right then, and she would have, not caring who was around to see, but Harry approached them, with the cracks of Apparation sounding behind him as Ron and the rest of the guests departed. Harry glanced between her and Draco, his eyes narrowing slightly as Draco pulled his hand away from her face.
"I'm sorry, Hermione. He…"
"You don't have to apologize for him, Harry. Or make excuses for him for that matter. He's never cared about my feelings before – it would be completely out of character for him to start now," she said, unwilling to be hurt by him any longer.
"Still, I'm sorry that you're hurt," Harry said. "Whether or not he meant to hurt you, it was still an awful thing to do."
"Yes, it was. But… I'm fine. Really."
Harry sank his hands into the pocket of his robes awkwardly and said, "I know it doesn't help, but Pansy said she isn't going to tell anyone. Zabini too."
She shrugged, feeling almost numb to the situation by this point. "I don't care, Harry. I really don't anymore. Thank you, though. For standing up for me." She gave him a sad smile before turning away again and leaving him on the porch as she walked inside.