Chapter 13: Forced Confessions

Hermione's heart was in her throat as Ron changed seats until he sat beside her. The burn from the shot was now climbing up her stomach and into her chest.

"What are you doing here?" His blue eyes studied her. She could see his jaw clench as he waited for her to answer.

Hermione felt frozen, and her cheeks radiated with a noticeable heat. She didn't know what to say. Of all the places she would see him, she never thought it would be here. As far as she knew, he believed she left Hogwarts and returned home to London unless Dean had told him the truth after he found out she worked at Maggies Tailoring.

She chose to ignore the giant elephant in the room. "I'm just here for a drink." She told him as her eyes observed the grainy pattern on the bar.

He scoffed. "You know that's not what I mean." He was right, she knew. "Why are you here and not in London?" His finger poked the top of the bar. Hermione's chest began to tighten as the muscles in her arms became tense. She had never expected to see Ron again and feel like this—like he was the last person she wanted to see.

She threw her head back and sighed. "It's a long story. She said. "But when I got to the train station to go home, I saw a flyer for a job that offered a room." She rubbed the condensation off her glass, regretting her spontaneous idea to leave the store. "So I decided to stay."

Ron slapped the top of the bar and shook his head. "Why did you not tell anyone?"

'Technically, that's not true.' She thought. 'Dean knew. And Lucius.' But there was no way she was going to tell Ron that.

"Why would I bother telling anyone?" The knot in her stomach was becoming tighter. After numerous days of endless tears and sleepless nights, she was finally reaching a point where Ron's face no longer haunted her.

'Just my luck.' She thought to herself.

"You didn't think I might want to know that?" His eyes squinted at her as if she was stupid. This was the farthest thing from anything she'd imagined when it came to seeing Ron again, and she couldn't take any more of it. Even when they were at their worst, she never recalled him acting this way.

She stood up from the barstool and began to pull her arms through her sleeves. Ron stood and faced her. "Wait, don't leave."

"Ron—

"Please, let me buy you a drink." His eyes pleaded with her, and his expression had suddenly changed. "C'mon, you're already here, I just got here…." He motioned to the stools.

Isabella reached the end of the bar. "Hermione! Can I get you and your friend anything?" She hesitated as Isabella waited for her answer. She threw her hands up and decided to sit back down.

"I'll be buying this round." Ron pulled out the wallet in his jeans and handed Isabella a handful of bills. "I'll just have what she's having."

Isabella walked off and began making their drinks as Hermione took her jacket back off and laid it in her lap. Ron spun on the stool and faced the bar. He looked around and then back to Hermione when Isabella handed them their drinks.

"What is this?" Ron took a small sip of the drink.

"It's called a Cherry Bomb." Hermione wasn't eager to stay, but the idea of possibly never seeing Ron again created an ache in her chest, one that she worried she would never get over.

Ron took another sip of his drink and laughed. "It's a little girly."

Hermione rolled her eyes and smiled. "So, why are you here?" She took a sip and turned on the barstool to face him.

"I was just passing by and thought I'd come inside. I thought "The Witching Hour" sounded cool and mysterious. So I decided to check it out." He ran his fingers through his hair.

The night carried on while the two of them talked and drank together, and finally, the atmosphere was beginning to feel lighter. They would occasionally catch each other dancing to the rhythm of the music that made the other laugh until their sides hurt. Hermione shared how she came to work and live at Maggies Tailoring, and Ron filled her in on his life at Hogwarts.

Ron slammed his half-empty drink down onto the top of the bar. "So, other than work, what have you been up to?" He asked, studying her expression as she thought of an answer. She thought for a moment about what she could tell Ron. She had no intention of telling him everything.

"I, uh, haven't been up to anything. Just working." She slurped down the last of her second drink.

He put his elbow on the bar and rested his chin on his fist. "You're a terrible liar." He chuckled, pushed the empty glass away, and flagged down Isabella. "Two more!" She nodded and got started on their third round of drinks. Hermione's eyes widened in astonishment at Ron as Isabella brought two more Cherry Bombs. She took a few cherries from the top of the drink as he snickered and brought the straw to his lips.

"I'm not lying," she said as she bit into the side of a cherry, but she couldn't hold back a cheesy smile. She noticed Ron's eyes observing her, and the memories of gazing into them flooded her mind and caused her body to feel scorching hot.

"By the way, you look amazing tonight." Ron plucked a cherry from his drink and popped it into his mouth. He lowered his eyes and looked Hermione up and down. She blushed and nearly choked on her drink as tiny raised bumps dotted her skin.

"Thank you." She said. She looked down and ran her hands over the skirt of her dress to feel the prickly texture. The palms of her hands were beginning to sweat as the warmth of the alcohol began to sink into her veins. A relaxed smile played across her lips as she wrapped them around the tip of her straw to take a few more sips of her drink.

"Did you want to dance?" Ron gestured behind him to the dance floor. She looked around the bar, then back at Ron.

"You want to dance with me?" Her face crunched as she swallowed the last bit of her drink.

"If you don't want to, that's okay." He said.

She stood up from the barstool and held out her hand. The warmth of his skin made her body sizzle as he led her to the dance floor. Ron's eyes seemed to sparkle as she placed one hand on his shoulder. Ron took her hands into his and grabbed the small of her back as he led her around the dance floor. They danced to a few songs, feeling like they were the only two people in the bar—maybe even the whole world. Her body shivered in anticipation until she stumbled forward and fell into Ron's arms.

"Woah, are you okay?" His hands held her up by her elbows as she tried to regain her balance. The floor felt like it was moving beneath her feet as Ron guided her away from the dance floor to lean against the wall. He bent close to her ear and whispered: "Stay here, I'll be right back. Don't fall." His breath moved across the skin on her neck and sent a chill down her back.

She stood there with her palms against the wall and begged her eyes to stand still. Ron finally returned and handed her a small bottle with a bright yellow liquid that seemed to glow. It reminded her of the green potion Maggie gave her the night of her birthday. "Here, drink this. You should feel a little better." He said.

She yanked the cork out of the potion and took a drink. "Blegh!" She cried. "This tastes awful! What is it?" She asked him, shocked and caught off guard by its unfamiliar taste. She did not remember the green potion tasting this foul.

"You don't have to finish it." He smiled and took the potion from her, placing it on a nearby table. Hermione put her palm against her forehead as she started to feel strange. The potion did help her with the alcohol, but now there was a weird sensation under her tongue that she didn't remember feeling the last time she had a potion like this.

"Why don't we go back and sit down at the bar?" Ron whispered close to Hermione so she could hear him over the loud music, but she shook her head more violently than she intended. She cringed as the insides of her cheeks began to burn.

"No, I'd like to go outside." As the words spilled from her lips, she knew something was wrong. She didn't mean to say that. Although true, she meant to agree with Ron and join him back at the bar.

"I'll come with you. It would be better if we both got some fresh air."

She stopped for a moment. "Wait, aren't you going to drink some of the potion?"

Ron held Hermione by her forearm and began to lead her outside. "I drank mine while I was at the bar."

Once the two of them were outside, her ears began to ring from the sudden silence in the streets. Ron laughed and rubbed his hand from the front of his hair to the back of his neck.

"What is it?" She asked him, but he continued to laugh, hardly able to catch his breath.

"I just can't believe you almost fell. I had a nice time dancing with you. Did you have a nice time dancing with me?"

Without thinking, she fervently nodded her head. "Yes, even though I didn't think I was going to at first." Hermione covered her mouth and gasped. "Ron, I'm sorry. I don't know why I just said that."

Ron shook his head, discomfort coloring his expression. "Don't, if that's how you truly feel. I don't blame you." But she could barely make out what he was saying. Hermione felt like she was lost in a fog. She couldn't describe the way she was feeling. Her thoughts were going a million miles per hour, but she could process them all. "Hermione? Are you okay?" He asked.

"No, something doesn't feel right." She told him as she put her palm against her cheek. Her face felt warm, but the inside of her cheek suddenly became numb and painfully sensitive.

"Let's go for a walk. The movement of fresh air will help you feel better."

Suddenly, Lucius' face came to her mind. She remembered the walk they took together only a few days ago, and while these were not the same streets, the light posts looked similar to the ones in Hogsmeade. She clutched her jacket to her shoulders and remembered the giddy feeling she had in her knees as they walked side by side until Lucius stopped her beneath the glow of a street lamp, where she kissed him after he told her he wanted her to hate him.

'Did he mean that?' She wondered. 'Is that why she had not heard from him since?'

She wondered how far from the Witching Hour they would walk. "Where did you want to walk to? I don't know this area very well."

Ron pointed down the road to a small roundabout. "If we go down this street and take a left at the intersection, we'll end up back here." She nodded, clutching her jacket even tighter to her shoulders, feeling an icy breeze flow over the vulnerable parts of her skin.

"So, do you like your new job?" Ron asked as he stuffed his hands into the pockets of his coat.

She nodded. "I do. All I do is provide tailoring services in the town of Hogsmeade."

Ron's head shot in her direction. "Oh? You didn't tell me it was in Hogsmeade."

That was right. While she filled Ron in on how she came to work at Maggie's, she intentionally kept that detail out of her story. Why all of a sudden was she telling him now?

"Well, it's around Hogsmeade." She corrected as a heavy sensation weighed down her tongue. Her heart began to race, and this strange feeling continued as they turned down the street toward the roundabout.

"Have you seen any familiar faces since leaving school?"

Hermione stopped and stared at the large stone buildings that lined along the street. She didn't want to look at Ron. It took all her strength to bite the tip of her tongue as the first name she thought to utter was Lucius'.

'I don't understand why I feel like I can't control my mouth or voice.' She thought to herself.

She caught up with Ron. "Uh, Dean came into the shop for a fitting a few months ago."

Ron's calm demeanor turned to astonishment, his mouth now agape. "Dean Thomas? He never told anyone—

"That's because I asked him not to." She said abruptly. She dug deep into the back of her mind for answers. Why was she answering Ron's questions with eagerness and truth, as if she had no other choice? She thought back to the Witching Hour and wondered if she must have had too much to drink, or maybe it was the shot of tequila she shared with Isabella. What else did she have to drink? She remembered the potion Ron had given her just before they went outside.

"Oh," Ron said. "Why did you ask Dean not to tell anyone?"

She shrugged as she struggled to keep control of her lips. "I wasn't ready to face anyone. Dean came into the shop and was just as shocked to see me as I was him." She told him. They took a left at the intersection and started down the street that would eventually bring them back to the Witching Hour.

Instantly a memory flew into the forefront of Hermione's mind. 'Potions class.' She remembered. 'Yellow potions often cause effects of clarity, truth, and the incapability to lie. Could Ron have given me a truth-telling potion by mistake?'

Then she remembered the way Ron avoided drinking the rest of the potion.

"I don't mean to pry," Ron blushed. "But have you met any new people? You know, anyone you think is special?" He smiled at her, but she was wrestling with her mind. It was as if she had no control, and the words began to flow like water from a faucet.

"Yes," She grunted and stopped short, her hand against one of the stone buildings as she tried to slow her brain. The air fell deathly quiet as Ron stopped beside her and waited for the rest.

'I can't believe him,' she thought. 'Ron gave me a truth-telling potion.'

"Lucius." She uttered.

Hermione felt like she was out of breath. Ron killed over into the most obnoxious loud laughter that echoed down the streets. The way he laughed at her caused her eyes well up with tears as a horrible ache seemed to fill her mouth as if something was pulling on her teeth. Still leaning against the stone wall, she hid her face in her jacket.

"Lucius Malfoy? Why do you think Lucius is special?" He scoffed.

She wrapped her hands around her face, fighting to keep the truth inside. She mumbled against her palms: "Did you give me a truth-telling potion?"

She stood and faced Ron, silently thanking the universe for giving her the strength not to answer. She only drank half of it, but every time she tried to stay quiet or lie, it caused her mouth and chest to feel like they were being shocked by lightning. With the tears cascading down her cheeks, she tried to ignore the insane pressure in her throat. It tore at her heart that Ron would take such measurements. Ron's amused expression changed to guilt as his eyes looked ahead.

"Ron?" She asked louder.

"What did you mean when you said Lucius?" He asked, his voice now brimming with anger that could cut through the air like a serrated blade.

It felt like molten lava began to swirl under her tongue, seeping through the cracks between her teeth and searing her gums. Hermione had no choice but to surrender to the effects of the potion. "I… think I'm falling in love with Lucius Malfoy." She nearly choked on her words as hot tears streaked down her cheeks.

Ron scoffed and grabbed the side of his head with a crazed look on his face. "Hermione," his voice now in a raging panic, "what are you saying? You're telling me you're in love with Lucius—a man whose main mission is to make my family miserable? Whom, if given the choice, would wipe out all mudbloods from existence?!"

No longer able to withstand the pain, she fell to her knees. As she hit the concrete, a wave of heat traveled from her face down to her legs as she watched the sidewalk soak in the blood from her kneecaps. This pain was no match for the ache in her heart and the strain in her throat as she begged for release.

"Answer me!" Ron cried. Hermione looked up from her lap. Vivid redness spread across his face as his eyes looked like they could pop from his skull. As her words spilled from her lips, she tried to focus on anything other than the fury in Ron's eyes.

"He's different now." She said. "He's not the same." She tried to catch her breath between words as the throbbing in her knees caused her cry to turn into a distressed sob. Ron paced a few feet in front of her, going back and forth with his hands still clutching strands of his hair. She was terrified of him and worried that he might explode even more.

He stood above her and screamed. "How can you know that? How did this even happen? I was right to give you that truth potion! God, Hermione! How could you be so stupid?!"

She stayed put and allowed her mind to get lost in the horrific pain of small pebbles becoming embedded into her knees. She bit down on her wrist and fought with all her might to stay quiet, other than the small sobs she had to let out so she could breathe.

Ron let out a rage-filled scream, and Hermione could swear his head was about to explode like a volcano. Then, as the last of the echoes rippled through the air, Ron became quiet. Hermione slowly looked up and saw Ron's hands ball into fists. Tears fell from the edge of his jaw. She pinched her eyes hut and waited for him to scream again or for something much worse. Instead, he turned and left without another word.

Every emotion seemed to beat through her veins: anger, sadness, heartbreak, but nothing could compare to the piercing sting still in the back of her throat and on the top of her kneecaps. Slowly, she stood up from the sidewalk and wiped her cheeks. She looked down at her knees and saw the trickle of blood travel down her calves, covering the souls of her feet and dripping out of the sides of her heels.

She couldn't go home. The thought of telling Maggie everything caused even more tears to burn at the corners of her eyes. She started limping to the portkey that would take her back to Hogsmeade, but she wouldn't stop there.

There was only one place she wanted to go.