Chapter Nine
It had been four weeks since the Halloween party, and the hallways of Hogwarts were once again buzzing with excitement. Christmas break was just around the corner, and though professors were assigning more homework than ever, the joyful mood could not be dampened. Even the lights that illuminated the school seemed to burn brighter.
The only exception to this was Draco Malfoy. It had been four weeks since Hermione had spoken to him, or even looked at him. Ever since the Halloween feast, she had been obviously avoiding him; going as far as to flee any room he entered and even sending Leanne to cancel their study sessions for the rest of the semester, leaving Draco to fall dangerously behind the rest in his classes. Her excuse had been her own struggle to keep up with her N.E.W.T.S studies, but he knew better.
Hermione Granger had felt something that night. Although Draco was drowning in homework and extra assignments, his mind could not be stopped from wandering back to the dimly lit hallway. He often found himself lost in the memory. Her hair curled delicately around her jaw. The gentle line of her neck leading to her concealed collarbone. The movement of her lips as she chewed nervously on her cheek. And her eyes. Oh, the way she looked at him. That look would make any man melt.
Their moment in the hallway had convinced Draco that he had a chance to win Hermione over. However, her cold demeanor ever since had discouraged him greatly. What if it had only hindered his chances? Sometimes, late at night, listening to the other boys snoring, Draco would become fiercely angry at his own stupidity. After all, he had worked very hard to be gentle with her, to control his emotions and to dampen his pride. And after one overheard conversation, he had let his emotions take control of his actions. He would not be surprised if he had scared Hermione off for good.
This, however, was not the only dilemma Draco faced before the Christmas holidays. He had received a letter from his mother weeks ago, and though he had made several attempts to respond, it still lay unanswered.
My dear son,
Thank you so much for sending your last letter. I am always so grateful to receive an account of your time at Hogwarts. It seems you are having a fantastic year, and I am so glad to hear that our fears of other student's response to your return were proven wrong. Please thank Silas for his continued friendship. And though I am still unsure why you deem her a friend, I suppose you can include the Noman girl in my thanks as well. While I am not fond of her eccentric behavior, I do appreciate her loyalty.
I think you would like to hear that I have mostly repaired the bridge between myself and your aunt Andromeda. She has been busy raising the young Teddy Lupin after the loss of her daughter, and though she is almost as insufferable as she was when she first married the Tonks boy, I find I enjoy spending time with the young child. Perhaps when you come for the holidays, we can spend some afternoons with them.
I know it was not your original intention to come home during the holiday, but I have been told by other parents that all of their children are coming home. I am afraid that you will be very lonely at Hogwarts if you decide to stay. Therefore, I must insist that you come home, both for your sanity and mine. I know that your unwillingness stems from the strained relationship between you and your father, but I assure you that his dependency is much less than it was when you left, and his moods are much like you remember them from your childhood.
Your father and I miss you very much son, and we are very excited to see you again come Christmas.
All my love,
Mother
The letter lay wrinkled on his bed, damaged from the many times he had crumpled and un-crumpled it. He was unwilling to send his mother a letter full of rage, but that was his only response thus far. The blatant disregard for his feelings on top of the slight towards his friend boiled his blood.
Once again he was shown why his mother had married into the Malfoy family. Narcissa was just as pretentious and prideful as Lucious. Both hungered for power and prestige not only for themselves, but also for Draco. However, Narcissa was more cunning in her control of her only son. It was hard for him to disobey her; much harder than it was for him to disobey his father.
Therefore, the letter sat unanswered. This gave Draco a great deal of stress throughout his school days. He knew that no one else would be at Hogwarts over the winter holidays. The war had created a great deal of awareness within the students of how little they truly saw their parents. Therefore, it had been the general consensus that students would go home for the holidays. Even most of the professors would not be staying at Hogwarts.
But Draco could not stand the idea of going home. The dark hallways that had once been a matter of pride now lay barren and dusty. The images of his ancestors that still stuck to the walls jeered and mocked him as he passed. He was the boy who laid waste to the Malfoy name. He had been their destruction. And worse than them were the words from his own father. Even his moods, as his mother had called it, much like he remembered from his childhood, were sour at best. The thought of once again sharing space with Lucious sent a shiver down his spine.
No, Draco would not go back to his childhood home for the holidays. He may never go back there again. He would rather stay at Hogwarts with only the portraits and ghosts for his company. But how to tell his mother?
Hermione Granger was having just about as much luck with her Christmas break plans. Originally, she had planned to go home and spend time with her parents for the holidays, but after a great deal of begging from Ron and Ginny, she had written to her parents encouraging them to go to Australia without her. (They had grown very fond of the country during their brief life there.)
However, since the Halloween banquet, she and Ron had been in an ongoing fight. It reminded Hermione of their third year of Hogwarts when they couldn't seem to get along. It had started shortly after Hermione had reentered the Banquet Hall, frustrated and flustered. Ron had recognized the look on her face and immediately began to quiz her on her whereabouts. Of course she told him; he was her boyfriend after all. She did, however, decide to leave out a couple of details such as close quarters and butterflies.
Even with the little information she gave him, Ron had immediately gone into a jealous rage. Since then, she had been constantly berated with comments about Malfoy in the special and stinging way that only Ronald Weasley could manage. This had caused Hermione to become highly defensive in the matter, even going as far to prove that his jealousy was unfounded by completely avoiding Draco.
Four weeks of snide comments and yelling matches had left Hermione completely exhausted. It also left her unsure if spending two weeks stuck in the same house together was a good idea. She kept writing to Ron that she wasn't coming anymore, only to have him show up, soothe her into submission, and leave with one little remark about Draco, which of course led to a fight, and left her swirling in the hateful cycle once again.
In the end, Hermione decided that the best they could do was spend a good deal of time in conversation talking through their frustrations. This was not an easy task since, of course, Ronald had the emotional range of a teaspoon, but it was a necessary challenge nonetheless. So Hermione made arrangements to meet him at the Three Broomsticks during her last trip to Hogsmeade before Christmas break. The public space would help to dampen emotions both in Ron and herself, and, hopefully, it would discourage him from using his more- underhanded tactics.
The day had started pleasantly, as Hermione, Ginny, and Luna made their way down the snowy path to Hogsmeade. Their light conversation and the sunny sky left Hermione feeling optimistic about the dreaded conversation to come. The three girls spent the morning popping into different shops, collecting Christmas gifts and restocking school supplies. Then, glancing at her watch, Hermione bid the other two girls goodbye before making her way to the Three Broomsticks.
A rush of warmth and chatter welcomed her as she made her way into the bar. Madam Rosmerta greeted her cordially and gave her a fresh bottle of butter beer. Settling into a corner of the room, Hermione waited patiently for Ron. Time ticked by as a steady stream of people came in and out.
It was noon, the time that they had agreed upon to meet. But of course, Ron was never on time to anything. Thirty minutes passed and still Hermione was not worried. After all, Ron was generally late to everything. Every half-hour, Hermione created another excuse for Ron's tardiness. However, as the minutes ticked by, her frustration grew. Had she not told him that this was an important conversation. Had he not agreed to be there?
Finally, at half past two, Ronald Weasley swaggered through the door of the Three Broomsticks looking positively jolly. He hugged Madam Rosmerta, kissing her sloppily on the cheek before ordering a fire whiskey. Then, spotting Hermione, he thundered over to her.
"'Mione! You are smoking today! Seriously, you look so hot when you're pissed off!"
He tried to plant a kiss on her lips, but Hermione expertly dodged it. Her eyes narrowed in suspicion, her lips tightened into an angry line.
"Ronald Weasley, are you drunk?" He smiled lopsidedly at her expression.
"Course I am 'Mione! I've only just passed my first test towards becoming an Auror and Harry and I were celebrating at the Hog's Head. Didn't I send you an owl?"
"No. You didn't." Hermione's arms were now crossed firmly against her chest. Her frustration towards Ron, though softened by the pride she felt about him passing his test, could not be totally diverted. "Could you not have waited until after? I told you this conversation was important."
Ron shrugged, downing the rest of his fire whiskey. He coughed once before setting down his empty glass. Folding his hands dramatically, he stared expectantly at Hermione, though his eyes remained slightly unfocused.
"Right," she began, "Ron I want to talk about how much we've been fighting."
Smiling broadly, Ron grabbed Hermione's hand. "Finally! I've been waiting for you to apologize for weeks!"
Hermione blinked once, then twice, unable to speak for several minutes as Ron began chattering excitedly about what he thought Harry had gotten him and whether or not his Mom would say anything about Bill's new dragon earring. Slowly, she withdrew her hand from his.
"Ron." She interrupted him, trying desperately to control her rage. "What exactly have I got to apologize about?" He blinked back at her, his drunken smile replaced by a confused look.
"For Halloween of course." He said simply, as if that explained everything.
"And why would I need to apologize about that?" Hermione watched as Ron's mouth melted into a frown.
"For being alone in the hallway with Malfoy. I mean, you said nothing happened, but you're my girlfriend. What if someone saw the two of you out there alone? People will believe anything you know."
Her teeth grinding dangerously against each other, Hermione spit out. "You want me to apologize for being alone with another man?"
Ron laughed as he reached out to flag Madam Rosmerta for another firewhiskey. "No, Hermione, of course not. You can be alone with Neville. Or Professor Flitwick perhaps."
"So just not any man you see as a threat?" Madam Rosmerta, who was dropping off Ron's drink, glanced at Hermione with interest before rushing off to a nearby table, obviously eavesdropping.
Ron's voice dropped down to a whisper. "Malfoy is not a threat. I know you'd never be with a death eater like him. Besides, you told me when I let you tutor him-"
"Let me?!"
"- that I had nothing to worry about. And I trust you Hermione."
Laughing humorlessly, Hermione answered, her voice low with rage. "Let's make one thing clear, Ronald Weasley. You do not own me. You do not let me do anything. I asked you as a courtesy to your tiny ego. And I will not apologize for doing the right thing and seeing if Draco was okay. He is not a death eater anymore and you are not to refer to him as such anymore. Do I make myself clear?"
Ron blinked again, his face turning the same shade as his hair. Hermione now felt angry tears gathering behind her eyes. Leaning back into his chair, arms crossed firmly over his chest Ron huffed, "You're right Hermione."
"Thank you." She responded, some of the tension lifting from her shoulders. She smiled gently at him, but his eyes remained hard, glaring at his empty glasses.
"We fight all the time now and I don't like it. Maybe it's the distance. Maybe our relationship has just plateaued."
"Plateaued?"
He paused, breathing in deeply and letting escape just as slowly from his mouth. His eyes, firm and serious, met hers.
"I want to break up."
Hermione froze in shock, her mouth hanging open. Suddenly, the tears, which had once been angry, fell from her eyes, leaving Ron's silhouette blurry in her vision.
"What?"
"Look, it's for the best." He said, "You ought to write to your parents and let them know you'll be coming home for the holidays." Standing, Ron tossed a galleon onto the table. "I'll see you around Hermione." And with that he was gone.
For hours, Hermione sat in the Three Broomsticks, tears falling silently from her eyes, staring at the place where Ron had been. A tap on her shoulder startled her from her stupor. Madam Rosmerta led her gently to the door, letting her know that she needed to be heading back to Hogwarts if she didn't want to be locked out. In a daze, Hermione stumbled back to the castle, somehow finding her way through the passageways and the Fat Lady's portrait to her bed. Pulling the curtains tightly around her, she let out a loud sob. Letting her torrent of tears out, Hermione cried until she fell into a restless sleep.