Spring

The memory of Valentine's Day dinner in Malfoy Manor had stuck with Hermione all through the remaining month of February, into March, and then to April, keeping her warm as the winter raged on. The snow was finally beginning to melt around the castle and spring was just spreading its wings, ready to bring life to what had been dead for so long. Hermione found herself smiling a lot more and basking in the sunlight that had started warming Hogwarts and the grounds; it was a much-needed break from the grey gloom that had lurked around throughout the winter.

Classes had been going well and Hermione felt confident in both her O.W.L. students as well as the ones that had bravely gone on to attempt to get their N.E.W.T. in Arithmancy. She was known around Hogwarts as a strict but not impossible teacher and she relished her relationship with the students deeply. Teaching had fulfilled her in ways that the Ministry never could have and she was doubly grateful to be working far away from the Weasleys in particular. While she and Harry had never been too consistent with their communication and were still writing to each other, it hurt that Ginny was still not speaking to her.

Hermione wanted to repair her friendship with Ginny, but wasn't sure if she wanted to reach out first. She didn't want her best friend's disapproval of her new "situationship" with Draco Malfoy to muddy the waters of an already confusing time in her life, and it was difficult and awkward enough to be freshly divorced from her brother. Hermione spent most of her time outside of class thinking about the mess that this divorce had caused and was grateful that there would be a small break in the clouds for her, as a weekend at Hogsmeade was almost upon them.

When the Hogsmeade weekend finally came, Hermione had volunteered as a chaperone. She was excited to get out of the castle, enjoy some of the sunshine, and to see the new life that had been breathed into the students. The year was almost over and, before they had to buckle down for exams, this was a chance to let loose and relax. Everyone needed it.

The air was crisp and fresh as Hermione walked to the Three Broomsticks after she made sure all the students were safely within the bounds of Hogsmeade. She inhaled deeply one last time before pushing the pub's doors open – the fresh air was just too good to refuse.

There was a mild buzz inside, created by a throng of patrons. It hadn't been as busy as when she and Ginny had come right before Christmas, but there were definitely enough people around that Hermione had no question as to Madam Rosmerta's success.

She found herself a small table that was out of the way of everyone else and sat down, waiting for an opportune time to go back up to the bar and give her drink order. She looked around and was pleased to see that there were also plenty of students here among the regular patrons. It reminded her of when she was still attending Hogwarts. When things were easier… as if helping Harry prepare to fight the Dark Lord could be classified as such.

Hermione chuckled to herself and saw an opening at the bar. She stood and walked up, debating on whether she wanted her usual glass of wine or if she would branch out to something else: Rosmerta had begun dabbling in some Muggle liquors and Hermione had been thinking about trying her new cocktails for a while –

"Hermione?"

She was jerked out of her thoughts by an all-too-familiar voice. Hermione whipped around and, to her horror, saw a shock of red hair above vivid blue eyes that jarred her heart so much that it made her chest hurt.

"…Ron?"

The two stared at each other for a moment. Hermione's stomach knotted up painfully as Ron spoke.

"Surprise seeing you here."

"I doubt that," Hermione snapped. Ron frowned.

"Okay, you caught me," he admitted, though there was a strange arrogance to his tone and a smarmy grin on his face that didn't look right being there. "I wanted to talk to you."

"There's not really much to talk about."

"That's not true if you're dating Malfoy."

Hermione's mouth fell open and she stared at Ron in shock.

"Even if I was, that's absolutely none of your business."

"It absolutely is my business." Ron's tone took on a mocking quality that Hermione remembered from the later years of their marriage. It still made her skin crawl.

"I'm not discussing this with you." Hermione turned to Madam Rosmerta. "I would like a margarita, please."

"Sounds good, love," Madam Rosmerta said, turning away to make Hermione's drink. Hermione turned back to Ron, fresh anger flowing through her and a deep frown on her face.

"Ron, please leave me alone."

"No, I don't think I will," Ron said. He took a seat right next to where Hermione stood; it took everything in Hermione not to move away. She would not give in and give him the satisfaction of knowing he was getting under her skin.

"Here you go," Madam Rosmerta said a moment later, setting a glass down in front of Hermione. There was a neon-green slushed drink in it and Hermione immediately took a sip from the straw.

"This is delicious, thank you," she said. She turned around and walked back over to the table she had first occupied, listening in as the bartender and owner of the pub asked Ron if there was anything she could get for him.

Hermione was just beginning to think she might have escaped Ron's drunken attention when he slammed himself into the chair opposite her, leaning towards her with his elbows on the table and drink in hand. Hermione could smell the liquor on his breath and she shrank away from him, her back now completely against the wall.

"Ron, please…" Hermione hated the whimper in her voice, but she couldn't control it. "You're drunk, there's no point in talking - "

"I've wanted to say a lot to you over the last few months," Ron said, ignoring Hermione's protests completely. "I was a great husband. I would have made an even better dad. You took all that away from me. This is your fault, and you need to remember that when you find yourself thinking about crawling back to me, which you will. I was the best thing that ever happened to you."

Hermione remained silent, half in shock and half in fear that if she responded, it would goad him further and make things worse.

"And now you're whoring around with Draco Malfoy, of all people. I thought you were better than that." Ron shook his head. "I guess I shouldn't expect so much from a desperate bitch like you."

"Sir, you need to leave." Madam Rosmerta had appeared behind Ron during his tirade and was glaring at him, her arms crossed over her chest and her wand in her hand. "Now."

"Fine." Ron stood and swayed on his feet a little before beginning his journey to the front door.

"Are you okay, dear?" Madam Rosmerta asked Hermione gently. "Do you need anything?"

"Er… I think I'll just sit here for a while if that's okay," Hermione responded. Her voice was still a little shaky and she took a deep breath to try and steady it. "I want to make sure he's gone before I leave."

Madam Rosmerta nodded in understanding and left Hermione to her drink, which she immediately went back to and drained in several large gulps. The warmth from the alcohol began to chase the shakiness away and helped her to feel more like herself again.

The afternoon wore on and Hermione realized that she had to hurry and help make sure the rest of the students got back to the castle safe and sound. She went back up to the bar to pay Madam Rosmerta and thank her again for the support before making her way through the small crowd and to the doors. Hermione pushed the door to the pub open and the cool breeze refreshed her lungs, helping even more to clear her mind.

Ron said his piece, she told herself as she began to make her way down the street and by all the shops. It's over now. You don't have to worry about it.

Feeling slightly calmer, Hermione did the usual checks around Hogsmeade, shuffling along any students that had been lagging behind and making sure that everyone would be back to Hogwarts for dinner.

She was debating on whether she, too, wanted to have dinner at the castle or if she would go back to the Three Broomsticks when someone pushed by her roughly, grabbing onto her arm and dragging her along with them. She stumbled and almost fell, but the strong grip on her arm kept her moving.

When she finally took her eyes off of her feet, anger and terror flooded through her in a mix so strong that her stomach churned and bile rose in her throat.

"Ron – what the fuck are you doing - " Hermione barely got the words out as she was pulled down an alleyway and slammed against the hard brick wall of one of the shops.

"Listen here, you little slut," Ron whispered in her ear. He smelled even stronger of alcohol and Hermione swallowed hard to try and keep the bile down. "I know you killed our baby and destroyed our marriage. You may think you've gotten away with it, but I know better."

"What are you even talking about?" Hermione choked. "Ron, I - "

"Shut UP!" Ron roared. Hermione flinched and began to shake. "You may be able to convince everyone else that I'm crazy and the reason you left, but we both know the truth."

"Sir!" A loud voice came from the main road, catching both Ron and Hermione's attention. "Let her go – now!"

Ron stepped away from Hermione, who began to gasp for air, and began to run the opposite direction. He didn't get far; there was not one, but two men that followed and caught up to him, wrestling him to the ground and putting magical handcuffs on him.

"You're under arrest," one of the men said. He then turned to Hermione. "Miss, you should go. We'll take it from here."

Hermione didn't need telling twice. She turned and fled down the alley, back to the main street and up to the castle. She didn't slow down until she was safely inside the Entrance Hall, where she made sure there were no students around before she promptly sank to her knees and began to sob.

...

Hermione was so shaken by the experience in Hogsmeade that she took a few days off of teaching, something she had never done over her years at Hogwarts. Professor McGonagall had immediately granted it and asked no questions, which Hermione was immensely grateful for. They had forged a close relationship since the war, but Hermione wasn't ready to talk to anyone about what had happened yet.

For the first full day of her leave, Hermione didn't leave her small room. She was able to hear everything going on in her classroom, which offered her some comfort, but she couldn't bring herself to even go down to the Hogwarts kitchens to get herself anything to eat. Not that she was hungry, anyway.

The second day was slightly better; she managed to get down to the kitchens at eat a bowl of soup eagerly provided to her by the house-elves. It was warm, delicious, and gave her enough energy to sit and read a little while she was in bed before she fell asleep for the next twelve hours.

By the third day, Hermione had lost track of time. She woke late in the morning, confused as to what was going on and feeling both stiff and starving. She was just settling into a deep full-body stretch to wake her muscles when there was a knock on her door. She froze, fear sliding cold through her veins, and took a moment to decide what to do next.

The knock came again, this time firmer and more demanding.

"Hermione? I know you're in there. Open up."

She knew that voice.

Hermione leapt out of bed and wrenched open the door.

"Harry?"

Sure enough, Harry Potter stood in front of her, black hair messy as usual and green eyes shining. Hermione couldn't help but smile as she pulled him in for a hug, squeezing him so tightly that he coughed and spluttered a little.

"I can't breathe - "

"Sorry, sorry," she said as she let him go. "Harry, what on earth are you doing here? Not that I'm unhappy to see you. It feels like it's been forever! Come on in, you can sit here if you'd like." She gestured to a small chair by a desk she had stuffed in the corner of the room.

"Well…" Harry looked a little uncomfortable, but sat down nonetheless. Hermione perched on the edge of her bed, knotting her hands together. Suddenly, she felt like she knew exactly why he was here.

"You're here because of Ron. You heard what happened, didn't you." It wasn't a question, but a statement. Her body felt far away as she waited for Harry's response.

"Yeah," Harry said. "He's still in jail."

There were a few moments of silence between them before Hermione spoke again. Everything still felt far away and fuzzy around the edges.

"Are you going to ask me to bail him out?"

Harry looked at her in shock.

"Fuck no! Honestly, I came to see if you're okay. I didn't realize – how bad he was getting."

Now it was Hermione's turn to stare. Words didn't generally fail to come to her tongue, but Harry had shocked her so thoroughly that her body went rigid and tears sprang to her eyes.

"Harry… thank you." She took a few deep, steadying breaths before continuing. "I'm doing a bit better now. Took a few days off and all that." She paused before continuing in a small voice. "I thought that you would take Ginny's side and that our friendship would be ruined."

Harry laughed. The sound of it was so kind and familiar that it pulled a smile to Hermione's face.

"Hermione, of course not. Ginny may be my wife, but you and I have been through way too much together to let this come between us."

"Has she told you… everything?"

"You mean about you dating Malfoy?"

"Well, yes," Hermione cleared her throat and played with her fingers anxiously. She hadn't written to Harry about Malfoy, but hadn't expected Ginny to keep it a secret, especially since her best friend had been so angry when she'd found out.

"I can't say I'm excited to hear who it is," Harry said, "but you deserve to be happy. I may not understand exactly what happened with Ron, but don't let the bad blood we all had before take your chance at happiness away."

Overwhelmed with Harry's kind words, Hermione pulled him into another hug, tears streaming down her cheeks. Harry patted her back rather awkwardly and gave her a quick kiss on the head before standing up and holding Hermione at arm's length.

"Please keep in touch and let me know if you need anything," he said. "I'll come check up on you again soon."

...

After almost a full week, Hermione was finally feeling ready to get back to teaching. She planned to take the weekend to prepare her lessons and get caught up on everything the substitute had gotten though while also trying to find time to get outside and enjoy the beautiful spring weather that had finally, fully emerged over the last few days. It was hard to believe that there had ever been snow outside and Hermione was thrilled at the prospect of sitting out by the Black Lake like to work she had done while she was still in school.

She had just sat down at her desk and was beginning to sketch out the next week's lesson when the door behind her burst open, making her jump so hard that she fell out of the chair.

"Ow!"

"Hermione!"

"What – Draco? What are you doing here?" Hermione pulled herself up off of the floor using her desk as a crutch and rubbed her back. "You scared the shit out of me!"

Less than a second later, Hermione was being crushed against Draco Malfoy's chest so hard that she felt that her head might explode. She was surrounded by the fabric of a perfectly-tailored suit and the smell of tobacco and pine… she let herself melt into his embrace.

"Why the fuck didn't you tell me what happened?"

Hermione looked up into Draco's face, surprised at his intensity. He was frowning at her, but she could tell it was from a place of concern with how his brows were knitted together. His angular face was clenched so tightly that she could see the muscles working in his jaw; part of her wanted to reach out and touch them, to trace the lines working in his face and see if she could calm him.

"What do you mean?"

"Don't act stupid. I mean what happened with Weasley in Hogsmeade."

"How do you even know about that?"

"No thanks to you, that's for sure."

"Draco…"

"I'm sorry." Hermione watched as Malfoy took a deep breath and seemingly relaxed slightly. "I'm not used to this. Hermione, what happened in Hogsmeade?"

"Ron came after me…" Hermione trailed off. "He – he accused me of killing our baby and ruining our marriage."

Malfoy's silver eyes searched Hermione's brown ones for a long moment before either of them spoke again.

"I didn't – kill - " Hermione stuttered. She felt the tears pricking at her eyes and looked at the ceiling. She had done enough crying lately; she didn't want to do more, especially in front of Draco. He remained silent but pulled Hermione back into a hug. She reminded herself to breathe: in, out, in, out –

"I had a miscarriage," she finally admitted. "A few years into our marriage. Late-term. Our baby died. Ron started drinking. Things… they were never the same. Ron started to yell, to throw things and ruin our belongings, to hit me… I never told anybody that. He took the loss hard; apparently, he thinks I did it on purpose."

Draco began to stroke Hermione's hair as she spoke into his chest, drawing his fingers through her bushy curls in a repetitive motion. He allowed her time to breathe and process and soon, Hermione was feeling calm enough to explain further, which is something she hadn't told a soul out of fear and shame.

"I don't know what happened, Draco," she said. "I – I went to one appointment and the baby was fine and then – they couldn't find a heartbeat – and Ron got so angry with me – he had been looking forward to having a son… I think my body failed me, and my baby, and my marriage."

"Hermione," Draco said. The gentle sternness of his voice made Hermione look up at him in surprise. "There's no way you are to blame. Sometimes, horrible things just happen. It's not your fault."

"Thanks for saying that, but it was my body that failed. Which means I must have done something wrong."

"That's not true." Draco paused and took a deep breath before he spoke again, his face tight. "Astoria and I tried for a while. Her blood curse made childbearing difficult."

"I'm sorry."

"It's okay," Draco said, planting a soft kiss on top of her head. "Pregnancy is difficult enough without magic interfering."

"What do you mean?"

"Sometimes it's harder for magical people to conceive and carry full-term pregnancies," Malfoy explained. "Astoria and I went to countless fertility specialists, trying to figure out what was wrong. We knew about her family's – issues – but it still didn't sit right with me. It turns out that sometimes fetuses just aren't compatible with magic."

Hermione thought about this for a while, pulling back into Malfoy's chest so she could rest her cheek against him. She closed her eyes and counted her breaths, calmness settling on her like a cloud.

"If he ever pulls that shit again…" Draco said in a low, dangerous voice. He didn't finish the sentence.

"He won't be able to do anything anymore," Hermione said softly. "He's in jail."

Draco cupped Hermione's chin in his hand and pulled her head up so she could meet his gaze. There was an icy fire in his silver eyes that made Hermione's heart stutter. He leaned down and pressed his forehead against hers.

"Please don't go to Hogsmeade without me again, at any rate," he said.

Hermione snorted. "Aren't you a little busy to come with me whenever I leave the castle?"

Malfoy's hand now gripped her jaw firmly and he turned her face up to his.

"You're to tell me whenever you have these outings," he growled. Butterflies erupted in Hermione's stomach and her skin tingled at the sternness of his voice. "I won't let this happen again."

And then he kissed her.

It was gentle and slow at first, but when she succumbed and kissed him back, there was an undeniable spark that grazed along her skin, igniting the blood in her veins and creating an insatiable appetite for more. More of his lips, more of his hands, more of his everything…

When Malfoy pulled away, both of them were breathing a little heavier, their eyes locked onto each other and less than an inch between their faces. Draco pulled back slightly after a long minute, letting cool air rush to fill the space where his face had been. Hermione shivered.

"I'll let you get back to what you were doing, then," Draco said, pressing his thumb against Hermione's lower lip for a moment before releasing her completely. "Send me an owl whenever you plan to leave the castle again."

"Okay…" Hermione said dazedly. She watched him go, feeling as if she was floating above her body again. When the door clicked shut behind Malfoy, she blinked and shook her head, as if it would help make sense of what had just transpired.

All through the rest of the day, Hermione's head was filled with Draco's face and the feeling of his lips on hers. Each time her mind went over what had happened between them, the butterflies came back and the skin on her arms erupted into goosebumps. She had never felt such electricity with someone before and, frankly, it was as exciting as it was scary.

As much as she wanted to deny the chemistry that kept bringing them together, she wanted to see Draco Malfoy again.

And again.

And again…