Surprise!
Well yes, if you're not part of my discord server, you had no way of knowing about this, but after a vote over there, I've decided to post this chapter earlier than planned, as well as the next one which will arrive on Thursday! Indeed, as you'll see when you read them, these chapters are of great importance to the story, so I wanted to post them earlier when I saw your positive feedback!
Also, I've been wanting to take a break from publishing for a few weeks now to catch up on the chapters I write, so I thought this would be a good opportunity! I'll give you more info at the end of the chapter ;)
Enjoy your reading!

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Harry grabbed Theo's hand and Theo let out a long sigh he hadn't been aware he'd been holding. He was using the technique his healer had told him about without even realising it. First, he pressed his thumb on his index finger, then his ring finger, his middle finger and finally his little finger. Then he did it again. Over and over. Until all he could think about was his fingers.

His husband ran his thumb over his hand and Theo closed his eyes for a few seconds. He was no longer paying attention to the surrounding conversation. He'd exceeded his limits.

"Shall we go out?" Harry suggested.

Theo nodded evasively and followed him to the entrance of the house. Mechanically, he slipped on his long coat and went outside. Harry pulled him into his arms and Theo cradled his head in his neck, closing his eyes.

He then took several long breaths to calm the erratic beating of his heart, the only sign that he was panicking.

"Do you want to talk about it? Do you know what's got you in this state?" Harry asked.

Theo shook his head and threw his arms around his husband's hips to be even closer to him.

He'd just... panicked. He'd been overwhelmed by the noise of conversation, Draco's insistent gaze and the presence of Granger and Ginny in the same room. Too many strangers, too many possibilities for unforeseen events, too many... Just too many.

"I should have stayed home," he muttered into his husband's neck.

"Do you want to go home?" Harry fretted, catching his face between his palms to look at him.

Theo shook his head again, pulling his hands away and shoving them into his pockets.

"I don't want to spoil your evening. I can go for a walk outside, or ask Draco to lend me his room, it's not a–"

"Theo," Harry interrupted him with a serious look. "Tell me what's bothering you. It's Christmas, I refuse to be separated from you tonight."

He didn't dare look at his husband again. Theo had turned his eyes towards the window of the house, which opened directly onto the brightly lit living room. He met Ginny's gaze, which was watching them from inside. He felt as if he was jumping back in time.

oOo

November 11, 2005

"You promised me, Theo!" Harry exclaimed, tears welling up in his eyes.

"I promised to welcome her here, not to make her my best friend," Theo replied.

He lit a cigarette with the tip of his wand and headed for the bay windows of their room to have a smoke. He hated this kind of argument with his husband, having to feign indifference to show Harry his attempts to get under his skin didn't affect him. He felt like a stone-hearted monster, even though he couldn't bear to see Harry upset by it.

"There's a difference between welcoming her and glaring at her whenever she speaks to me, or taking her aside to talk to her whenever you get the chance!"

Theo gritted his teeth and angrily exhaled a long white stream of smoke.

"She deserves it," he growled.

"She deserves it! Do you hear yourself, Theo? How can you say something like that after all you've been through and when you know how important forgiveness is?"

"She abandoned you!"

"She was in mourning! We all were, for Merlin's sake! We experienced the war and had to get back on our feet. We've all made mistakes, I can't blame her for the ones she's made. She chose to handle it by leaving and I have no reason to hold it against her, especially considering how her relationship ended!"

Theo clenched his jaws, aware that his husband was raising an important point. He had told him of his concerns about Astoria's psychological abuse of Ginny.

"She abandoned you," he continued.

"Stop being so stubborn, Theo, please..."

"Stop? Stop what, Harry?" Theo snapped coldly, turning to him. "Stop what, eh?"

Harry had tears in his eyes, and that only made Theo's heart clench a little tighter in his chest.

"I'm not going to stop loving you and protecting you just because other people can make mistakes. And if that's what you want from me, then you–"

He couldn't finish his sentence. Harry had just rushed into his arms and nestled his face against his shirt, sobbing. He hugged him back and closed his eyes with difficulty.

"I expect nothing more than your love, Theo," Harry whispered through his tears. "I'm so sorry I got upset. But please, make an effort, I–she's my best friend."

Theo sighed, stroking the back of his husband's neck.

"Merlin, if you could only understand how much you mean to me."

"I do. It's at least half of what you mean to me."

A second after uttering these words, Theo heard the creak of parquet flooring in the distance and looked up sharply. He furtively met Ginny's brown gaze, which seemed to have heard their last words.

And difficult as it was, Theo promised himself he'd make things right, for Harry's sake.

oOo

Ginny hadn't taken her eyes off him as he waltzed very slowly with Harry. A few flakes fell on their brown hair and they ended up creating a small circle of steps in the snow.

The landscape was magnificent, despite the night that prevented them from seeing far. The few lanterns illuminating the Granger estate were enough to give them a more than splendid glimpse.

It wasn't the first time Theo had danced in silence with his husband. Harry did it to relax Theo, to help him refocus on the important things, on reality. And it worked every time.

Theo tore his eyes away from Ginny and turned them to Harry's face.

"I love you," he breathed before kissing him on the forehead.

His husband smiled at him and stroked his cheek with his gloved hand. His eyes were filled with a concern he seemed to struggle to keep quiet.

"Promise me we'll talk about it when we get home, Theo."

"I promise."

Harry smiled and leaned over to kiss him tenderly.

"I love you, too. More than anything, Theo."

oOo

Hermione was busy cleaning the plates that had been used during the main courses when the kitchen door opened. She turned her eyes in time to see Ginny enter.

She immediately tensed and tightened her fingers on the china dishes she was rinsing under the tap. It once belonged to her grandparents. They had received it on their wedding day, sixty years earlier.

She tried to concentrate on the colourful details of the plates to keep her mind off the woman who'd just walked in, but her efforts were soon in vain.

"Do you want some help?" Ginny asked, striding up to her.

Hermione flinched. Her hands began to shake around the plate.

"No, no, I'm nearly finished. You should join the others."

But Ginny didn't move. Hermione could see her out of the corner of her eye, near the kitchen island. The redhead was fiddling with the bottom of her orange sweater, which Hermione realised had been given to her by Molly. The large iconic sewn G on the front was what gave it away.

Hermione couldn't help the bitterness that washed over her as she realised it had been years since she'd received one. Perhaps it was because of her separation from Ron. Or perhaps Molly had never really wanted to give her any.

"I wanted to apologise, Hermione."

This time, Hermione dropped the plate into the sink, unable to control herself. She gripped the edge of the sink until her fingers turned white.

"Don't do that, Ginevra. There's no need. It's all right, I'm not angry. You can go back into the living room."

Ginny didn't answer immediately. She took another step forward, which only accentuated the tension in Hermione's shoulders.

"I–Hermione, I mean it. I feel terrible and I don't want you to think otherwise. I shouldn't have left, I should have stayed by your side, checked on you and supported you. I've been the worst friend and I blame myself more than anything."

Hermione closed her eyes and slowly inhaled. Why was she doing this? Couldn't she remain silent and indifferent to her like the rest of the guests? Couldn't she stay with them instead of vainly trying to rebuild something with her?

Hermione had left the living room to calm down, to be alone, not to be bothered by meaningless words, which would only revive memories and sensations she would have preferred to bury.

"All right. I forgive you," she said quickly. "You can go now."

Once again, Ginny didn't move. Hermione was becoming increasingly exasperated. What more did she want? She'd forgiven her, it was as simple as with the others, wasn't it?

"Don't you want to discuss it?" Ginny asked in a confused tone. "You can't just forgive me like that! I screwed up, I was–"

"Yes, I can," Hermione interrupted, turning to her. "I can and I choose to. I forgive you, I don't blame you. Now, I asked you to leave me alone!"

Ginny took a step back, her face twisted with worry and sadness. But Hermione felt nothing at all. She stood still and waited for the redhead to leave, only taking her eyes off of her when she disappeared behind the door.

She was elsewhere right now. There was only her need for solitude, her anguish and her trembling fingers. She didn't realise what her actions implied, what she really wanted or even how Ginny must feel. She was way too far removed from all that. There was only her anxieties, black, imposing, ingesting her.

Then, unable to help herself, Hermione burst into tears.

oOo

The Nott-Potters had brought an assortment of cheeses that Draco was well-acquainted with. Despite their mostly disturbing smells, he was able to name them all. Theodore had chosen them himself, as Draco had received the same strict education in French specialties as he had. They were both masters when it came to wines and cheeses.

Draco hadn't been tempted by the little white rounds Theo had selected. Eighteen, to be precise. At first sight, he could identify them as goats' cheeses, all of different ripenesses and origins. However, having eaten enough during the main courses, he didn't taste any of them. He simply observed the rest of the table with a scrupulous eye.

Less anxious about being so surrounded, he took the opportunity to study those he hadn't seen in years, or whom he saw less and less of. Pansy spent half her time in France with Granger, and Blaise only came once a month.

A bond—which Pansy had told him about in letters—had more or less developed between Potter and the Zabini couple. They had been the only people talking all evening. From what Draco had heard, Potter had accepted a position as Team Leader at the French Department of Magical Games and Sports. Hero's privilege or not, he was obviously talented enough to be so recognised. Blaise, meanwhile, was advancing step by step in his battle with the Wizengamot. He already knew everything else.

Pansy gave him summaries of her foundation's progress in each of her letters. If his memory wasn't playing tricks on him, she'd organised her first reception to take place during New Year's Eve.

However, the three main characters were not the ones who had caught Draco's attention the most. As soon as Theo, Potter and Weaslette arrived, he sensed that the atmosphere had become much heavier.

Granger and her redheaded friend had spent the meal with their heads bowed over their plates. Several times, Draco had even wondered whether this was due to what he had prepared. He'd come to the conclusion that it had nothing to do with it when the Weasley Girl had started staring at Theo and Potter outside.

He had then done his best to try and understand what was going on in the minds of the guests. He suspected that some tension had arisen after Ginevra's departure—Pansy had told him about it—without knowing the ins and outs. Perhaps Granger was angry with her for leaving? Perhaps they'd had a fight before she left to see the world? Perhaps it was because of her older brother, Ronald?

Draco intended to try and understand him, even if he had no intention of questioning the others. He was good at that, after all. Understanding by observing, keeping a low profile and remaining silent. Analysing, counting, deciphering.

As he pondered how to learn more, he realised that Weaslette had been back for a while. Alone. Without Granger. Without Albert. He frowned and glanced around the living room, in case he'd missed their return. No. They weren't there. Granger wasn't there.

However, just as he had decided to get up and join her to check that everything was okay, Pansy beat him to it and entered the kitchen.

He dropped his head into his hands, shoulders slumped. He'd missed his chance.

oOo

"Is everything all right?" Pansy asked as she entered the kitchen.

Hermione turned to her, her eyes still red from too much crying. She had spent a good quarter of an hour sitting on the floor and snuggled up to Albert to calm down, before finally resuming her dishes.

"Yes, yes," she lied in a confident voice.

"Have you been crying?"

Hermione tensed, though she didn't stop rinsing her plates.

"I'm tired," she replied simply.

From the corner of her eye, she saw her nod, then sit down on one of the stools on the kitchen island. There was silence, punctuated only by the warm water running over the porcelain and Hermione's hands.

The latter was tense, confused about Pansy's presence here. What did she want from her? Give her an apology, too? Add another layer? Hadn't she had enough? Wasn't she satisfied with the little party she'd organised at home? Didn't she have more gossip to tell her friends?

"I thought you were going to wear a dress tonight."

Hermione's hands trembled again. She had no right. She had no right to come and tell her that. Not now. Not here.

"I've changed my mind," she replied.

She knew her tension could be heard in her voice. Albert came and rubbed against her legs and she realised that her whole body was giving off that impression.

"You–"

Pansy fell silent as the din of an argument suddenly resounded in the adjoining room. The sound of a chair being scraped against the floor echoed through the house.

Hermione turned towards her and met her equally confused gaze. Pansy stood up, eyebrows furrowed.

"You lied to me!" Malfoy blurted just as she opened the door.

"What's going on?" Pansy worried as Hermione appeared in turn in the doorway.

Malfoy had risen from the table and was glaring at Blaise. The latter looked embarrassed, almost guilty. Ginny, Theo and Harry seemed particularly uncomfortable with the situation.

Up until then, things might almost have seemed normal—after all, two friends could argue.

But Malfoy had never raised his voice in her presence. Not since he'd been released from Azkaban. In fact, she'd never even seen him express real emotion. He always seemed calm, and neutral. He was far from cold, but he never really let others see how he felt.

He spoke very little, never really smiled, and was content to follow the instructions, rules and habits that had been tacitly established between them.

For a long time, she'd thought he'd always been like that, and that it must have come from his upbringing. She'd imagined he'd taken advantage of Hogwarts and his friendly surroundings to let himself go back then. Perhaps he was even waiting a little longer before resuming his mockery. That was until she finally understood that it was only a trauma, a consequence of his stay in Azkaban.

It was far from voluntary. He was discreet out of necessity. She had worried about him several times, wondering what could have happened to make him so... empty.

But to see him like this–angry, with his face distorted by his emotions–was unusual. Speechless, Hermione observed his black gaze and clenched fists.

Suddenly, he turned his head towards Pansy, jaw tight, not letting go of his anger. He stared at his best friend as if she were his worst enemy. As if she'd betrayed him. And maybe she had.

"You forced her to do all of this," he accused.

His tone was cold, hard, sharp and Hermione observed Pansy as guilt struck to her core, rendering her speechless.

Hermione didn't understand. What was he trying to say? What was he talking about? Why was he getting so upset? She must be missing something.

He gave her a quick glance and for a moment, Hermione felt as if the angry wrinkles around his eyes had relaxed.

"You promised me Granger agreed."

Hearing his name in her mouth sent shivers down her spine.

She received the remark like a sledgehammer. He wasn't talking to her and yet Hermione had never felt so involved in a conversation with him. It was as if she suddenly realised who was facing her, as if she realised the months that had passed and that they had shared. It was as if she'd disassociated his identity from the person she'd been cohabiting with since May.

Draco Malfoy was living with her. Draco Malfoy. Malfoy. Draco.

The world around her shook for a second. Panic fluttered around her chest and then came crashing down again. It was strange.

"Draco, I–" Pansy started.

"You lied to me," he repeated without letting her continue. "You told me she knew, that she had agreed!"

All at once, it was too much for her. Hermione fled upstairs, one hand over her mouth. She couldn't hear any more. The conversation was making sense and she didn't like what she understood. She didn't want this. No pity. No compassion. No sad looks.

She vaguely heard Ginny and Harry calling her name, but she was already far away. Her bedroom door slammed behind her and she collapsed on the wooden floor.

oOo

Anger was an interesting emotion. An emotion he hadn't felt in a long time and which, when carefully analysed, proved destructive.

For a long time, Draco had prevented himself from letting it explode. For a long time, he'd swallowed it, hoping it would calm things down, make things better.

Wizengamot's accusations? He'd said nothing. The screams of the Death Eaters' victims as he entered the courtroom? He'd said nothing. The insults of the Azkaban guards? He'd said nothing. Their beatings? He'd said nothing.

Over time, this emotion, so present in his past life, had simply disappeared from his system.

Feeling it rising, his first reaction had been panic. Why now? He had tried to calm her down, using his usual self-control not to let anything show. He thought of nothing, emptied his heart and head and transformed himself into a body devoid of interest. Until it no longer worked. Perhaps he had reached his limit. Perhaps his mind refused to stand still this time.

The evening was pleasant, from the outside. Draco was pleased to see his food being eaten, his friends chatting and his environment changing for the evening. He felt as if he were living a little more than usual, as if he were rediscovering the life that had once animated him. Until things went wrong, until he realised that everything couldn't be so perfect, that it had all been an illusion.

Blaise's remarks, Weaslette's stares, Theo's obvious anxiety, Potter's indifference or even Pansy's oh-so-jovial mood... Then Granger's near-catatonic state. It had all been too much. It tasted like false sweetener, the lies and illusions being portrayed. Something was wrong, and the insensitivity shown by everyone else had triggered in him the anger that was now exploding unscrupulously.

It was Potter's remark that had triggered it.

Hermione's been weird since the start of the meal, he'd said.

He couldn't help reacting. And when he saw her speeding upstairs, Albert grunting as he came out of the kitchen and everyone freezing as they watched her leave, Draco decided enough was enough.

"You're using her," he realised, stepping away from the table.

He shook his head, looking at the others in disappointment. Reality was hitting him in the face and his body was reacting beyond his control. Albert came to rub against his legs but he didn't flinch. He was used to it now.

"You've been using her all along and you lied to me."

"Draco, you don't understand, we did this for you, to save y–"

"Stop it!" he shouted in a voice so loud it surprised even him.

Albert groaned at his feet. Pansy's eyes filled with tears and the others looked at him warily. No one had expected him to burst out in such a way after months of showing such little emotion.

What was happening to him? Why was he losing his temper? It wasn't like him, he wasn't this person.

"You–You shouldn't even be here," he snapped, unable to find any other words to explain the situation.

He shook his head again. He wanted to chase away his anger, make it disappear into the distance.

"She never wanted this and you didn't care enough to notice how hard it's been on her."

He saw Potter swallow, as everyone looked away. Cowards.

"You're selfish. You've never opened your eyes to what she's going through."

Tears welled up in his eyes, but he didn't care. He felt overwhelmed, he felt too many things at once, so much so that he couldn't differentiate between his emotions. He was at his wits' end.

"Hasn't anyone noticed that she eats for three? That she calls in sick every night after dinner? That she gets up too early and goes to bed too late? That she bites her nails all day long and is incapable of–incapable of–"

He took his head in his hands and growled.

"Draco..."

"No!" he shouted, angrily looking up at Blaise. "I can't believe you'd do something like that when you've spent the whole meal talking about all the 'fine' causes you champion!"

He stepped back further and took a long breath to calm himself.

"You've ruined everything."

Their guilty glances spoke for themselves.

He took one last look at Pansy, whose eyes were filled with sadness, anger and... yes, disappointment. Soon, when no one answered and he decided he'd had enough, Draco headed for the stairs Granger had taken a few minutes earlier. He stopped in front of the first step, with his back to them.

"You don't deserve her," he breathed before climbing up.

He let a few treacherous tears roll down his cheeks, releasing the overflow of emotions inside him. He could hardly believe what had just happened, what he'd just realised.

He passed his bedroom without even thinking of going in. He stopped in front of Granger's and dropped down in front of it, his back against the dark wood of the door. He closed his eyes and let his head fall on it.

"I'm sorry," he murmured.

As I said at the beginning, I'm going to take a break from publishing after posting chapters 40 & 41. I've written very little over the last few months, despite the number of ideas I have, due to a lack of motivation and time. So, with the arrival of summer, I'd like to take advantage of it to get back up to speed and get as close as possible to the end of this story.
I can't thank you all enough for the support you've shown me on this story which, as I often say, is very close to my heart. Even though I'm often late in replying to your comments, or even don't reply at all, I want you to know that I read them all and they make me feel so good, so thank you for reading and continuing to support me.

So I'll be posting chapter 41 this Thursday, before taking a break for an undetermined length of time, but which - I SWEAR - won't be permanent. I'm already writing 54 and I'm determined to finish this story, and maybe one day turn it into something original, who knows...

In the meantime, feel free to join my Discord server if you'd like to discuss this story with other readers, or with me, or even talk about fanfiction in general. There are about fifty of us interacting there, and I can't wait to meet and chat with more of you! The link is on my social networks, so if you can't find it, don't hesitate to PM me. I'll also be giving regular updates on my progress and the duration of this break over there, so join in so you don't miss a thing!

Thanks to AccioBraincells and Rapunzerelli, my wonderful betas, for their support and thanks to you for continuing to read me.
Nova