She sat in the room, surrounded by its pleasant ambiance, yet overwhelmed by a sense of powerlessness.
Its well-furnished, albeit minimalistic, design didn't contribute to her feelings; instead, it was her internal turmoil that left her feeling vulnerable.
Tapping her fingers on the comfortable chair, she looked around, taking in the well-lit space. Despite its inviting appearance, she couldn't escape the feeling of helplessness, like a fragile glass figurine in a world of uncertainty.
She scanned the room with her eyes, noting the absence of the familiar plate of cookies that normally sat on the table.
Her mind healer had stopped offering her a cookie only in the last meeting and now it seemed she had given up making them. The room seemed emptier without that small source of solace and distraction.
"Hermione?" Dr. Heartwell's voice broke her from her mental reverie, its gentle tone grounding her back into her reality.
She swallowed hard, her throat dry, before she spoke, her voice filled with a mix of resignation and frustration, "I hate him."
Her question had been, "How has work been going?" and that was her response.
Work remained the same relentless routine.
Work was work.
Just as before, she kept going, determined to maintain her composure.
Three days had passed, and she hadn't broken down yet. She hadn't mustered the strength to march up to him and demand answers, though the urge was ever-present. Instead, she had skillfully avoided him as much as possible.
"Did you speak to him?"
Hermione nodded, her expression revealing a complex mix of emotions.
"How did that go?"
She couldn't help but start playing with her nails. With a sigh, she replied, "Well, I guess. I didn't cry or scream. It was...normal. Professional."
Dr. Heartwell nodded knowingly. Her therapist's ability to put her at ease was uncanny, making Hermione feel as if she were strolling through a downtown part of Muggle London with the boy she once loved, sharing secrets under the influence of truth serum.
Maybe she'd asked him for too much?
Don't do that to yourself, she told herself. Blame yourself.
Her mind healer nodded, offering a reassuring presence as Hermione delved into her thoughts. "Is it easier to convince yourself you hate him?"
Hermione looked down, her voice filled with self-doubt as she questioned, "Shouldn't I?"
She continued, her words carrying the weight of her emotions, "Shouldn't I hate him for making me feel loved, seen, protected, all in one, and then... ripping it all away?" her words tumbled out, more than she'd ever said at once. "Showing his true colors and abandoning me? Shouldn't I hate him for awakening love and passion in me I never knew existed and then leaving me alone to deal with the absence of it? Shouldn't I hate him for knowing I should have never let it happen, for convincing me I could trust him?"
✦•······················•✦•······················•✦
Dresses, shoes, and jewelry with tags were scattered throughout the living room of Hermione's flat as she walked in, creating a colorful chaos. Pansy stood amidst the fashion frenzy, wearing her work clothes—a very feminine striped skirt suit set that accentuated her curves—with her hands on her hips, engrossed in examining a striking crimson and ,-black dress.
"Pans?" Hermione questioned, her brows furrowing as she took in the scene.
This was not a good sign.
Looking up from her fashion deliberations, Pansy flashed a relieved smile. "Thank Salazar you're home, Min. I can't decide what we're wearing to this ball on Friday."
Hermione hadn't planned on buying or wearing a new dress for the upcoming event. She had a plain beige one that she'd been recycling for weddings and events over the past two years, and her intention had been to simply change its color with her wand. The sudden shopping spree in her living room caught her off guard.
"Er, I'm not sure," Hermione replied, carefully moving a few dresses to clear a spot on the couch. She unpinned her hair, letting the curls cascade down onto her shoulders, a brief moment of relaxation amidst the fashion dilemma.
Pansy shook her head, her expression torn between choices. "I know I can't decide; they are all beautiful."
Hermione discreetly checked the price tags of two dresses nearby and couldn't help but shake her head. Pansy had indeed splurged a small fortune on each of them. This was serious, there was something weighing on her mind, and she couldn't help but think it had something to do with the fact she had mentioned Theo was back.
Sighing, Pansy shifted closer to Hermione, making room for herself on the couch, and changed the subject. "How was your therapy session?"
Hermione shrugged, her thoughts wandering to the revelations she had shared earlier. "It's going well."
Pansy nodded; her concern evident. "I think it's helping. You seem... okay."
Hermione bit her lip, contemplating her newfound resolve. "I think it is working. Now that I've decided to hate him, I'm not sad anymore." I don't feel broken so much, she thought.
The words hung in the air left unanswered as Pansy looked away and seemed contemplative.
"Are you alright, Pans?" Hermione asked, her concern genuine.
Pansy plastered on her actress-worthy winning smile, but it quickly faded as she shook her head.
Sighing, Hermione reached for her and hugged her gently as Pansy whispered in her ear. "I'm going to see this mind healer too."
Well, that's something she'd never think Pansy would ever do.
Merlin, Theo better stay away. Or so help her, she'd hex him back to whatever country he'd come back from.
Hermione nodded in agreement. "That's a good idea, Pans."
Pansy smiled softly and then chuckled, "We're fucked up, aren't we, Min?"
Hermione laughed, "No, Pans. We're just human."
Two wonderful caring, loving witches that chose the wrong men.
They were just human, and each dealt with their breakups in their own way. One hid behind her work, the other used her work to shine, to become the star she'd always wanted to be.
Pansy stood up, wand in hand, and pointed it at their CD player.
With a dramatic flourish, she activated the device and selected their Goo Goo Dolls album. She then struck an exaggerated runway pose, making an extravagant hand gesture as she began to fake a runway walk down their living room.
With a playful grin, she shouted, "Ready for a fashion show?" The music filled the room, setting the stage for their impromptu fashion extravaganza.
Pansy, with her persuasive charm, managed to coax Hermione into participating. The next two hours were a whirlwind of outfit changes, as both women tried on different dresses and experimented with various combinations of shoes and accessories.
After much deliberation and trying on numerous outfits, Pansy finally settled on a stunning, form-fitting red dress that accentuated her curves. She practically begged Hermione to agree to wear a striking dark green dress with a plunging neckline and a very sexy open back, believing it would be the perfect choice for the upcoming ball.
Hermione hesitated for a moment, considering the daring outfit, but ultimately, she agreed with a smile, knowing that Pansy had an eye for fashion and trusted her judgement.
They cooked dinner that night, preparing a delicious pasta with a rich meat sauce, and settled in front of the couch as Pansy fiddled with the remote control and managed to get their satellite cable to work, even in wizarding London.
Nostalgia seemed to sweep over her features, prompting her to reminisce.
"Remember when we all argued about remotes being magical contraptions in our flat uptown?" Pansy mused, a fond smile playing on her lips.
She never talked about that time; Hermione always thought it was for her Hermione's benefit but noting Pansy's recent reactions, maybe it had been for her own as well.
Hermione nodded, a hint of amusement in her eyes. "Theo really tried to convince us all that electricity was some sort of magic."
Pansy chuckled, shaking her head. "That stupid git kept going on about magic being current and energy and electricity being the same thing."
Hermione laughed, recalling the memories. "That was the night I made you all watch 'The Breakfast Club.'"
Pansy rolled her eyes, feigning annoyance. "And 'Say Anything,' 'Pretty in Pink,' and 'Ferris Bueller's Day Off.'"
Hermione couldn't help but put her hand to her mouth as she suppressed a snort of laughter. "Malfoy and Theo wouldn't stop quoting those movies for weeks."
Pansy's eyebrows shot up in surprise. "You said his name, sort of."
Hermione looked down, her voice softening. "Yes, I did."
It was getting easier.
Her best friend's smile was genuine and encouraging. "Good for you, Min. I can't wait to see him on Friday, so I can turn him into a squirrel, or maybe," she paused, giving Hermione a pointed look, "I'll pull a you and turn him into a bloody weasel."
What a time that had been.
The Slytherin crew in muggle London for the first time, relying on her to be their guide.
Hermione couldn't help but burst into laughter, shaking her head at Pansy's mischievous plans. "Please don't. Ron will be there, and he still gets quite upset about that night."
That night had been… interesting to say the least.
Nineteen and almost arrested.
Yawning, Hermione stretched her arms and made her way towards the bedroom, ready to call it a night. Pansy's voice called out to her from the living room, catching her attention.
"Tomorrow Blaise gets home from his work trip in America," Pansy announced, her tone tinged with some sadness.
Hermione turned towards her, her curiosity piqued. "That's exciting," she replied, patiently waiting for Pansy to reveal the underlying issue.
Pansy nodded and gazed at the TV screen, avoiding direct eye contact. "It's also our third anniversary. He made dinner reservations."
Tilting her head, Hermione observed Pansy closely, sensing there was more to the story. "Pans, just do what your heart feels is right," she advised, her voice filled with understanding and support.
Merlin, Theo please leave Pans alone. Please let her move on. Then again, if Pansy suddenly had doubts, there would be no stopping her.
Nothing ever did when it came to Theo.
Pansy's eyes glazed over briefly, but she managed to hold back tears as she simply nodded. "Goodnight, Min," she said softly, a hint of gratitude in her voice.
Why the hell did Theo have to come back into their lives too?
Malfoy disgracing her peace once more was already a lot.
If Pansy wanted to hex Malfoy on her behalf, Hermione would do worse to Theo. Maybe even Avada him.
Laying in bed, Hermione stared up at her ceiling, lost in her thoughts about a time when she had prayed, like a Muggle, like a Christian or a Catholic, or any religion where people got on their knees and looked up towards the sky in search of solace.
She remembered how she had prayed for the pain and the overwhelming sadness to disappear and wondered if Pansy had done the same. She'd always seemed so strong, she'd only seen her break down once. Cried for hours.
Once.
Hermione, when things had ended with Malfoy, had prayed to forget, her pleas directed towards a god she had never truly believed in, begging for relief from the anguish that consumed her.
Merlin, she had been so broken.
So fucking pathetic.
Then, one night, she had even prayed to Harry, begging him to oblige her and erase all the memories—especially the good ones, which haunted her most painfully.
Obliviate me, please she had begged. Make it all disappear.
She had been in so much pain, and Pansy had been right there with her, fighting her own battles but dealing with them in a way that Hermione often felt she couldn't match—strong, always so strong.
Sighing deeply, she closed her eyes and let her thoughts drift. She remembered how, in the past, she used to cry at random moments, as if the tears were an escape valve for her emotions. She had expected that this week, of all weeks, she would cry, but surprisingly, she hadn't shed a single tear.
Was this healing? She questioned herself as the absence of tears made her wonder.
Was this what it felt like to try and become whole again?
The uncertainty of her emotions weighed on her, leaving her in contemplative silence.
✦•······················•✦•······················•✦
Thursday morning, Hermione stood in the break room, her eyes fixed on the coffee machine as it brewed her much-needed coffee. The anticipation of the upcoming game and Ball weighed heavily on her mind, and she knew she had a long day ahead of her. Security measures had already been implemented, and they were scheduled to have another meeting later in the afternoon to ensure everything was in order.
As she waited for her coffee to finish, Theodore Nott, impeccably dressed in a sharp black and blue suit, entered the room with a confident smile. "Good morning , Granger," he greeted her, charmingly as she went to pour her coffee into a mug.
Hermione acknowledged him with a terse nod. "Good morning," she replied, her tone reflecting her focus as she continued to stir her coffee.
Maybe if she hexed him now and he ended up in St. Mungo's Hospital then he couldn't mess with Pansy.
Theodore couldn't hide his disappointment as he grabbed a scone from the plate nearby, inspected it closely, and then let out an exaggerated sigh. "These are blueberry," he lamented.
Hermione couldn't help but roll her eyes at his melodramatic reaction, and she responded with a mischievous smile, shrugging her shoulders nonchalantly. "I ate the last raspberry scone," she admitted playfully, fully aware of the reaction she would elicit. He didn't deserve anything less.
He narrowed his eyes at her. "You!" he exclaimed with mock indignation, taking a dramatic bite of his blueberry scone. "This is blasphemous."
As their banter continued, Malfoy entered the break room, his training bag slung over his shoulder. He looked at both of them curiously, seemingly sensing some kind of commotion.
Her heart skipped a beat as she looked away from him. Remain composed, she told herself.
Theodore, still in the midst of his act, pointed an accusing finger at Hermione and stated theatrically, "She ate the last raspberry scone!"
Raspberry scones.
Malfoy's favorite.
Unlike Theo, she knew he wouldn't eat the blueberry; in fact, he once declared that of all the fruits in the world, blueberry was the most inferior flavor.
With an arched eyebrow and a hint of disdain as he watched Theo eat his scone, Malfoy said, "Blueberries, Theo? How pedestrian. Raspberry scones are clearly a superior choice for those with refined tastes."
Hermione sipped her coffee slowly, contemplating how she had ended up in the somewhat surreal situation of being in the company of both Theodore and Malfoy on this particular morning. She watched as Malfoy approached and greeted her with a casual, "Morning, Granger."
With a polite nod, remaining perfectly stoic, she replied, "Good morning," her curiosity piqued by the dramatic headshake he added to his greeting. He looked utterly captivating in that moment, his physique accentuated by the snug uniform he wore. Every contour of his body seemed chiseled, and his ripped muscles were impossible to ignore.
"Stop," she scolded herself internally, forcefully suppressing any distracting thoughts.
Malfoy's dramatic flair continued as he addressed them both, his tone laced with feigned disappointment. "I guess I'm off to practice without my morning scone," he declared with an exaggerated sigh. "Good day to you both." With that, he made his exit.
Letting out a breath she hadn't realized she was holding she turned her attention back to her coffee and watched as Theo ate.
Hermione noted that Theodore's appetite was at least one thing that remained unchanged. She watched as he devoured not just one, but a second and then a third scone, his love for food as evident as ever. As she sipped her coffee, letting the invigorating liquid fuel her senses, she made a conscious effort to brush away all thoughts of Malfoy, refocusing her mind on the important tasks that awaited her today.
It was a familiar sight to her—Theodore's unabashed enjoyment of food. She remembered how, in the past, he used to consume hearty meals with such gusto that Pansy often found herself meal prepping for him, and Hermione would occasionally join in. Back then, he had been, and seemingly still was, deeply committed to his fitness routine, something he had successfully introduced Malfoy to. The memories of those days lingered as she returned her attention to her preparations for the upcoming events.
"So, who's the lucky fella that's escorting the Golden Girl to the ball tomorrow?" he inquired, his curiosity evident as he reached for yet another scone.
Hermione contemplated his question for a moment, a mischievous twinkle in her eye, before shaking her head vengefully. "That's for you to find out tomorrow," she replied with a hint of mystery.
Theodore raised an eyebrow in response, intrigued but not pressing further. As Hermione left the break room, he continued to enjoy his scones.
She made her way to her office, determined to tackle the paperwork and make preparations for both the other international teams and Britain's upcoming games. Her meticulous attention to detail extended to ensuring everything was perfectly in place for the grand event scheduled for tomorrow.
She ate lunch in her office, as she had all week, and around one-thirty, she made her way past the receptionist's desk where Tammy waved at her. She continued down two hallways toward the conference room for today's meeting, her uncomfortable six-inch heels clicking on the floor. Pansy had insisted on the high heels. She was dressed in a skin-tight gray skirt and blazer suit set, a look that befitted a modern witch. However, today, she couldn't help but feel like she could have just as easily worked at a cabaret bar, about to start teasing the audience by revealing some enticing lingerie ensemble.
Her naturally curly hair was pinned half-up, and she wore a light shade of red-pink lipstick that added a touch of allure to her overall appearance.
Upon entering the conference room, she quickly noted two things. First, she was early, which wasn't an unusual occurrence for her. Second, Malfoy was seated on a swiveling chair across the room from her facing the other direction. The team's assistant, Aurora, stood before him, batting her eyelashes and offering compliments, "That was an amazing play, Draco. I'm absolutely certain our team is going to emerge victorious in the game tomorrow."
As she quietly observed the scene, she felt a twinge of annoyance at the way Aurora seemed to be trying to capture Malfoy's attention with her flattery.
A foreign feeling coursed through Hermione as Aurora, wearing a sly smile, reached out to touch Malfoy's shoulder. Hermione quickly feigned a cough, clearing her throat to make her presence in the room known. Both Aurora and Malfoy turned their attention to her, their expressions shifting.
Malfoy's amusement was evident as his eyebrows arched in a sardonic expression. Aurora, on the other hand, appeared visibly embarrassed, her cheeks flushing slightly as she withdrew her hand from his shoulder, realizing the awkwardness of the situation.
This was the first meeting that involved Malfoy, and Hermione felt a twinge of irritation as she took her seat. Just as she settled in, Theodore Nott entered the room, followed closely by Coach Samuel. In their wake, Oliver Wood, the Vice President of IQA, entered as well. Hermione and Malfoy both stood up quickly to greet him.
"Mr. Wood," Hermione began, "I didn't know you'd be in town." She greeted him with a polite nod.
Oliver waved his hand dismissively at all of them, offering a friendly smile. "Mister. You all know me. Call me Oliver or Wood, please, no mister." He took a seat, and they all followed suit, ready to delve into the meeting's agenda.
Rolling out a large parchment on the table, Theo nodded to Hermione as he used his wand to activate it. With a flick of his wand, the parchment displayed a detailed map of the Quidditch field, complete with marked exits and even a realistic moving image of the stadium, allowing them to get a sense of the event's atmosphere.
They'd been communicating via letters since Tuesday regarding the safety measures they planned to put in place for all games, but especially tomorrow's game.
"As we prepare for the first game of the season between France and Britain," Nott began, his voice steady and composed, "I want to go over the key security measures we have in place to ensure the safety of all participants and spectators, including measures to address any potential protests."
He tapped his wand on the parchment, and the illustration highlighted the stadium's entry points.
"First, our access control measures are designed to prevent any unauthorized individuals from entering the stadium premises," Nott explained. "This includes thorough screening and identification checks at the entrances. We'll also have additional security personnel stationed near the entrances to manage any potential protests."
Nott then waved his wand, and the illustration displayed several key points of interest within the stadium.
"We'll have a designated protest zone near the stadium," he continued. "This area will be equipped with magical barriers to ensure both the safety of protestors and the security of the event. We've gathered data from previous matches, and it shows that this approach minimizes disruptions while respecting the right to peaceful protest."
With another flick of his wand, Nott highlighted the emergency evacuation routes on the illustration.
"In case of any unforeseen incidents or escalations," he said, "our emergency response plans have been updated. Data from past drills and simulations show improved efficiency in managing and de-escalating situations. The safety of all attendees remains our top priority."
Nott concluded the briefing by emphasizing the importance of open communication.
"We encourage peaceful protestors to register with us in advance so we can ensure their safety during the event," he said. "Our goal is to provide a secure and enjoyable environment for everyone, regardless of their perspective or concerns. If anyone has any questions or additional suggestions, please feel free to speak up."
They all nodded in agreement, seeming to appreciate the emphasis on maintaining a harmonious atmosphere during the event. Hermione was about to present her concerns, but before she could speak, there was a knock on the door. They all turned their attention to the young witch, Tammy, who entered the room nervously, holding a large bouquet of magical roses.
"This arrived just now for Ms. Granger," she stated quickly, "But that's not why I'm interrupting. Mr. Nott, you have a visitor in your office. They say it's urgent."
Theo arched his brows in curiosity. "Who is it?"
Tammy bit her lip, looking around the conference room. "They prefer to remain private. I just thought you'd like to go take care of it now rather than later," she explained.
Theo excused himself and promptly left the conference room to attend to his unexpected visitor. As Tammy was about to turn around and leave, Malfoy spoke up, his tone tinged with curiosity.
"Tammy, aren't those roses for Ms. Granger?" he inquired, his silver eyes focused on the bouquet in her hand.
She looked down at the flowers and nodded hesitantly. "Er, yes, sorry," she replied, seeming somewhat flustered by the interruption.
Rushing into the conference room, Tammy left the bouquet of roses in front of Hermione and rushed out, closing the door behind her. As Hermione touched the first rose, they sprang open magically, and a voice erupted from within the petals.
"Hermione, forgive me for missing your first week as the IQA's Welfare Office," the voice spoke warmly, "I'd wish you luck, but we both know you don't need it. I just wanted to let you know, as always, I am proud of you. And I'm proud to call you mine. I miss you wholeheartedly and cannot wait to see you tomorrow evening."
Hermione's cheeks reddened endlessly as Malfoy's gaze darkened, a mixture of surprise and curiosity in his eyes? Aurora, the team assistant, drawled out with a smirk, "That's so romantic and sweet. That voice sounds quite familiar."
Oliver Wood perked his brows, his interest piqued. "Are you, Ms. Granger, dating Edward Quality-Burke?"
"Edward Quality-Burke?" Malfoy asked, his tone laced with a hint of surprise and perhaps a touch of anger. Hermione, feeling a mixture of emotions, swallowed hard and absently rubbed the vase that Edward had sent her.
"Yes," she replied hesitantly, nodding in response. But not wanting to dwell on her personal life any longer, she cleared her throat and changed the subject. "Well, back to the safety measures we're to be implementing. I'd like to add additional wards to both teams' locker rooms and the stands' rails to prevent magic from being used in particular audience locations."
There was no disagreement regarding her proposal, and the room seemed to collectively accept her suggestion for additional security wards. Hermione intentionally ignored Malfoy's penetrating gaze, even as he crossed his arms and leaned back in his chair, directing his attention pointedly at the roses in front of her.
They managed to make it through the meeting, meticulously going over every detail related to the game tomorrow and discussing comprehensive safety measures for the upcoming ball. Theodore Nott did not return during the meeting, leaving Hermione curious.
As the meeting came to an end, the attendees filed out of the conference room quickly. Hermione carefully collected her vase of roses. It seemed Malfoy chose to linger behind, and as Hermione was about to exit, he walked past her slowly. His gaze fell upon the roses, and he remarked, "Your favorite flowers are peonies, not roses."
Making a show of admiring the roses, Hermione delicately sniffed them and inhaled deeply, then flashed a sly smile. "These are beautiful, though, aren't they?" Her words were laden with a hint of mischief.
Malfoy's lip curled into that maddening sneer, and his left brow rose in response. But before he could utter another word, Hermione turned on her heel and gracefully walked away, holding the bouquet of roses in her hand as she made her way back to her office. She couldn't help but relish the small victory in their exchange.
As she was walking away, a question lingered in the air: Had that been jealousy on Malfoy's part? She couldn't help but wonder, but she shrugged off the thought for the moment.
Back in her office, she placed the bouquet of roses on her desk and decided to send Edward a thank-you owl. Grateful for the gesture, she felt a sense of warmth for the person who had sent them.
✦•······················•✦•······················•✦
Looking around her cozy flat, Hermione sank onto the living room couch. She had already taken a relaxing shower and changed into her comfortable pajamas, wrapping a soft blanket around herself. Pansy was out on a date with Blaise, leaving Hermione alone, which was something she didn't particularly enjoy.
Being alone meant being alone with her thoughts, and sometimes that was a daunting prospect. It meant being alone with her regrets, her memories, and the complicated feelings stirred by the fact that Malfoy had unexpectedly reentered her life. As she settled into the solitude of her apartment, she reflected on the twists and turns that life had brought her in recent times.
Merlin, why did she let herself fall for him?
Why did she allow him into her life?
Closing her eyes, she sighed deeply, grappling with the whirlwind of emotions that had been stirred up.
Staring at Pansy's CD player, Hermione conjured magic wandlessly to turn it on The melancholic notes of "Iris" by Goo Goo Dolls filled the room with an atmospheric ofbittersweet nostalgia.
And I'd give up forever to touch you 'Cause I know that you feel me somehow.
With a heavy heart, she walked towards the kitchen and opened the fridge, the cool air washing over her. She inhaled deeply, her mind conjuring memories of tender moments by a fridge light, dancing with someone special to the tune of "Iris," and as the song continued to play, its lyrics tugging at her heartstrings, Hermione allowed herself to do something she hadn't done all week.
For the first time, she cried.
Silent tears streamed down her cheeks as she confronted the tangled web of emotions that Malfoy's reappearance had stirred within her.
And sooner or later it's over... I just don't wanna miss you tonight.
Ignoring the tempting bottle of elf-made wine that Harry had left behind, Hermione gestured for the CD player to shut off. She needed to divert her thoughts and emotions, so she stomped over to the couch and picked a movie to watch. The flickering images on the screen provided a temporary respite, allowing her to escape into a different world, if only for a little while.
Hours later, just as Hermione had settled into another movie and tried to put her thoughts behind her, there was a knock at her door. She glanced towards the entrance, perking her brows in surprise as she got up to answer it. To her astonishment, it was Ron who stood in her foyer, and George followed closely behind, carrying Pansy in his arms. The unexpected sight left her momentarily speechless.
"What's going on?" Hermione asked with a furrowed brow, her concern growing as she observed the unusual scene.
Pansy didn't lose control like this. Pansy wasn't the one that got drunk at bars. That was her. That's what Hermione did.
When she was… hurting.
Ron shook his head in response, unable to find the words, as George carried Pansy to her room with Hermione trailing closely behind.
Inside the bedroom, George carefully laid Pansy on her bed and swiftly went to their potion cabinet to retrieve an anti-hangover potion.
Meanwhile, Ron continued to shake his head, his emotions in turmoil.
Hermione couldn't contain her confusion any longer. "Is one of you going to tell me what happened?" She demanded; her tone tinged with frustration.
Ron finally looked at Hermione and sighed deeply. "Were you ever going to tell me you saw Malfoy?" His voice carried a mix of hurt and disappointment.