After Ginny showered and Hermione fed Crookshanks, they decided to Floo to Diagon Alley. Ginny was still a bit hungover, and wasn't up for apparating.
Hermione and Ginny landed in the hearth at the Leaky Cauldron, brushing the soot off their outfits and headed straight towards Diagon Alley. They were both dressed casually and in Muggle fashion, simple jumpers and jeans.
Ginny had quickly taken to Muggle clothing, in particular, the form fitting denims Hermione introduced to her a few years back.
"Hermione, these are positively scandalous!" she gasped the first time Hermione gave her a pair.
"What are you talking about? These are totally normal trousers." Hermione held them up, trying to see what Ginny was referencing.
"You forget. I'm used to very dowdy wizard's robes. Sure, Muggle fashions are beginning to become more acceptable at those high class events, but these— these jeans leave nothing to the imagination when it comes to the shape of one's bottom." She giggled. She had a devilish smile on her face. "I cannot wait to wear these in front of Harry. I'm going to be particularly clumsy today, I'll be sure to find lots of excuses to bend over."
Although Harry had been no stranger to Muggles wearing denims, it was hard not to notice the effect Ginny's bum had on him. Hermione had filed that away as potentially useful information.
Hermione knew she was decent to look at. She had received enough attention, wanted or otherwise, from men to be too insecure. However, she never had the easy confidence of Ginny. She not only knew men looked at her, she expected it. Further, when she was in the mood, she invited it. Ginny always knew the perfectly flirtatious way to flip her hair, bat her lashes, place her arm on a man's forearm and they were putty in her hands.
Of course, she used to save that behaviour just for Harry, but in the last year, Hermione had seen her whip it out on occasion when she was, quote, "in need of a good shag." But even when she wasn't laying it on thick, Ginny had a natural attractiveness that Hermione did not. She walked with a sultry sway of her hips that Hermione could never quite figure out how to mimic. Hermione remembered from a Muggle anatomy class she took for fun while at Oxford that women's pelvic bones are shaped differently than mens, requiring more movement of the pelvis to align with the top of the femur. Still, Ginny took a simple anatomical difference, and turned it into undeniable sex appeal.
Hermione had taken Ginny's advice from earlier to heart. She needed to end things with Ron and put herself out there more. So, today, though not expecting to run into anyone she particularly wanted to look at her arse, she pushed herself out of her comfort zone and pulled on her tightest jeans.
She channelled her inner-Ginny and put a little extra sway in her hips. Arm in arm, the pair wandered down the busy streets of Diagon Alley. Almost immediately, they heard a wolf whistle behind them, and turned to glare at a pair of teenage wizards giving them the ol' up and down.
"Oh, bugger off!" Ginny yelled over her shoulder. But she turned back to Hermione and they both burst out into a fit of giggles. "Chavs out in spades today, I guess."
Since the war ended, all the shops were opened up again, the cobblestones were filled with witches and wizards doing their shopping, banking, or grabbing a bite to eat.
The Ministry had been a bit more strict about what businesses they would issue licences to. It appeared to Hermione that a large number of stores were under the umbrella of the McLaggen Corporation. She suspected that Tiberius McLaggen, who was a higher up at the Department of International Magical Cooperation, threw his weight around to secure so many choice storefronts.
She also suspected it was Tiberius's influence that landed Cormac such a cushy job with the IMC office. Apparently Cormac was Malfoy's boss, which really rubbed Hermione the wrong way. Cormac was rather gormless, and she could imagine his ineptitude drove Malfoy up the wall. She wondered if he felt like she did in her department. Over-used, underpaid, and unappreciated.
But, there were a few holdouts on the Alley that the McLaggen empire had not acquired. Florean Fortescue's Ice Cream Parlour was back, now run by Florean's son, Felix. After Florean had been kidnapped and tortured during the war, he had entered a well-deserved retirement.
Of course, Weasleys' Wizard Wheezes was a wildly successful shop. Ron and George were working on opening their second location in Hogsmeade since Zonko's never opened back up.
Finally, Hermione's favourite shop remained in all of its glory—Flourish & Blotts. As a student, she had counted down the days each summer until she could return to rows and rows of shelves, perusing the titles, filling her basket to the very brim. She would then lay out all the books she wanted to buy on the counter, and carefully narrow them down to the books she could actually afford. She suspected the shop owner appreciated a fellow book-lover because miraculously one of the books she sadly set aside would be on sale, and he would place it back on the keep pile with a wink.
She would then sit in her favourite chair by the front window and read for as long as she could before Ginny or Harry or Ron would grab her and remind her they had other back-to-school items to purchase.
Today, she had an entire twenty galleons to spend. She would fill up her basket and she would buy every. single. one.
She and Ginny split off from one another when they reached the Quidditch supply store. Ginny knew Hermione would be in the bookstore for longer than she had time for, so they said their farewells.
"Are you sure you're not sad to be missing out on dinner tomorrow?" Ginny asked. "I'm certain you are still more than welcome."
"No, no, it's fine. I want Ron to feel like he can start to move on, and it will be easier if I'm not there for a while." She gave her friend a quick hug. "Don't worry, I'll come back. For one thing, Molly's cooking is too good for me to stay away forever."
They made plans to debrief after Ginny returned to their flat after practice that night. Ginny promised to bring another bottle of firewhiskey since Hermione nearly finished it off with her tea.
Hermione was just walking up to Flourish & Blotts, when she heard a familiar voice call her name. She turned to find Ron, starting to cross the street from his joke shop down the way. His sleeves were rolled up to his forearms and he had a bright orange apron over his robes, with the purple WWW logo printed across the front. His hair was combed neater than usual, his eyes shining bright blue against the colour of his apron. He looked adorable, like the boy-next-door finishing up his shift at the local grocer.
That's the problem, though, isn't it. I don't want to have sex with someone I find adorable. He's not my little cousin, he's my boyfriend!
He jogged up to her and gave her a quick peck on the cheek. "Hey, 'Mione! Erm, you're not busy right now, are you? Maybe we could grab a quick bite?" He rubbed his hand on the back of his neck, looking nervous. "I've been hoping to speak with you but we haven't been able to connect."
She gave him a warm smile. "Sure, Ron, I was just about to go to the bookstore, but it can wait. I've been meaning to speak with you as well." There was an awkward pause, they both looked down at their shoes, not sure how to continue the conversation.
Hermione was glad Ginny had said something, but it was clear that Ron was going to end things if she didn't. Her only concern about the prospect was making sure they remained friends. She loved him, truly. Just not the way she thought she would.
"Good!" Ron stiffly turned and pointed up the Alley. "Well, Fortescue's has sandwiches now if that works." Hermione nodded and they headed back towards the Ice Cream Parlour.
They ordered their sandwiches and found a small round table in a back corner. It was busier than they had ever seen Fortescue's, surprising as it wasn't a hot day, but nearing the end of fall. To give them privacy, Hermione cast a Muffliato charm.
"So. . ." Ron began, eloquently.
"So." Hermione responded with a shy smile.
"'Look, this isn't going to be easy for me to talk about, and I'm absolutely shite with feelings, as you know. So, I'm just going to barrel on forward." He took a deep breath. "You know you mean so much to me. And we've had a great time together. But, erm, well, lately, it doesn't seem like you're really interested in this," he gestured in between them "and, I want you to know, that's okay. I'm sorry if I've done anything to make you feel like I wanted something more serious ..."
As he got to the crux of it, Ron's ears were turning bright pink, and the words seemed to be slowing down, harder for him to spit out.
Hermione decided to take pity on him. "Ron, you've done nothing wrong. I think we're both feeling the same way." She saw him let out a sigh of relief, like he had been holding his breath. "I want you to be happy. You deserve to be with someone that makes you happy. I love you, and I know you love me, but I think we're better as friends."
Ron gave her a grateful smile. "Thanks for, erm, taking it across the finish line there." He reached across the table and gave her hand a squeeze. "I do love you, 'Mione. Always will." She gave his hand a reassuring squeeze back.
Just then their sandwiches arrived and Ron immediately tucked in. Hermione wasn't feeling too hungry after their conversation, and poked at her meal.
She was glad that they had finally voiced what had been building for months, but she started to feel an emptiness entering her chest. Being with Ron was so safe; it gave her permission to ignore the fact that her romantic life was basically in stasis. Now that she was single, it was clear she would have to deal with that part of her life. She wasn't interested in being alone forever. She was a grown woman, with desires and urges just like anyone else. She had been denying that part of herself under the auspice of being happily coupled with Ron.
Ron on the other hand seemed to glow with the new freedom. She felt guilty that she had been holding on to him all this time, when she knew it wasn't meant to last. She meant what she said, she wanted Ron to be happy. She wasn't quite ready to broach the subject of a certain Hufflepuff, but she knew that when Ron was ready to tell her, she would only be supportive.
Instead they talked about Harry, which was their usual default. He had been making some serious progress with his mind healer. He had fallen into a good rhythm at work. Ron mentioned his nightmares were getting better and he wasn't smoking as much gillyweed.
Ron also asked after Ginny. He was very protective of his little sister and wasn't too keen on her casual dating. It was insulting and patriarchal, but she knew the intent came from love and concern. She focused on sharing Ginny's success with the Harpies. A match against the Cannons was coming up that they would all attend.
"You gonna finish that?" Ron said with his mouth full gesturing to her half eaten sandwich.
Hermione's eyes filled with laughter. "No, I'm done. Help yourself." He thanked her and scooped up the rest of her sandwich and finished in three large bites. He leaned back and made a sound of contentment brushing crumbs off his hands.
"Well, I need to get back to the shop. George is taking the afternoon to test a new product. I'd say more but he's keeping this one fairly close to the vest." Ron and George made a great team. George was the creative force of the duo—in addition to the notebooks that he and Fred had filled with ideas before the war, he truly had an uncanny ability of turning the mundane into the ridiculous. Ron, on the other hand, had a solid business sense, he was forward thinking and strategic. He had quickly stepped in to help make George and Fred's dream a reality. Hermione was certain the shop would have shuttered after Fred died without his help.
They walked back towards their respective destinations. Ron had his hands in his pockets, and they were mostly quiet. It felt somewhat solemn, like they were taking the last steps of their chapter together as a couple. Even though Hermione felt fairly certain they would fall back into familiar patterns of friendship without too much trouble, she couldn't ignore the pang of sadness all the same.
They stopped out front of Flourish & Blotts to say their goodbyes. "So, will you be able to come round to the Burrow tomorrow?" Ron said casually, though she could feel the nervousness rolling off him.
"No, sorry, I am in the middle of reworking a draft for my Elvish Welfare project. Percy gave me a ton of feedback that I'm still working through." She could sense Ron was trying not to roll his eyes. "Pass on my thanks to him, would you? He seems to be the only one who takes me seriously at the Ministry."
"Sure—he may be a git, but I'm glad he's helping you." He shuffled his feet awkwardly. "Well, don't be a stranger. You know you're always welcome at the Burrow. Mum would flay me if she thought our breakup meant she didn't get to see you on a regular basis any more. You're like her other daughter."
Ron's words warmed her heart—making that emptiness in her chest feel a little smaller. Arthur and Molly had supported her immensely while she was unable to restore her parents' memories. She was never alone for a holiday, never without a gift on her birthday. They were even her guests of honour at her graduation from Oxford. She was relieved that Ron was supportive of her staying in their lives.
"Of course. See you, Ron." She held out her hand. Ron laughed, and grabbed her in a friendly hug, patting her back a few times in a brotherly way. It was fascinating how quickly and easily they reverted to their platonic relationship. It was so obvious this was how they were meant to be in each other's lives.
She gave him a final wave, and headed into Flourish & Blotts, eager to start her shopping spree.
Hermione returned to her flat after completing her shopping feeling flustered and confused. She'd had an unexpected, and to put it mildly, frustrating encounter at the bookstore. She was out of breath, practically reeling from their conversation. She set down her bag, magicked with an extension charm. It landed heavily next to the hearth.
She heard a thump from the kitchen.
Ginny shouldn't be back yet from practice. What was that?
Hermione's heart began to race. "Crookshanks, was that you?" she said softly. Her half-kneazle raised a lazy head from her arm chair. Hermione grabbed her wand, remembering Harry's advice to cast hominem revelio. There was another person here. She moved slowly into the kitchen.
A man was digging in her cupboards, shoving a tin of biscuits out of his way, grumbling to himself. Hermione was about to cast a stunning spell when she heard Harry's muffled voice, "Where are those blasted crisps? I know she has some." He riffled for a bit longer, then seemingly remembered he was magic. "Oh, right. Accio crisps."
A bag of Muggle crisps came flying out of another cupboard and into his hands. He ripped them open greedily. He turned and suddenly saw Hermione staring at him with her wand raised.
"Arrgh!" He screamed, jerking his arm, sending crisps into the air and falling all over the kitchen floor. "Oh, it's you! Merlin's beard, you gave me a fright!"
"What are you doing in my kitchen, stealing my crisps?" She crossed her arms looking at him suspiciously.
He stared at her without answering, and slowly started crunching on a crisp. ". . . . What?"
"Harry, what is wrong wi — are you high?"
Without breaking eye contact, he took another handful of crisps. "No? ... Maybe? I'm sorry I'm just really hungry. I saw you eating these at lunch this week and I haven't been able to find a bag of these Muggle crisps in ages. And then, yes, if you must know, I was having some gillyweed and I thought of the crisps."
He slunk into a chair at the kitchen table. Hermione continued to look down at him disapprovingly. He went on, "I knew Ginny would be at the pitch, and after last night's win (thanks again for that, by the way, absolutely brilliant) I thought you would be at Flourish & Blotts 'til it closed."
Hermione cleared away the crisps on the floor with a quick wave of her wand, and went to put a spell on the kettle.
"Gillyweed, Harry? I thought you'd stopped that." She pulled down a few mugs and started making them tea.
"I have. Mostly." He licked some salt off his fingers. "I've cut back a lot. Promise. It's just recreational now, not therapeutic. Although, I have had a hell of a week. Between the mountain of paperwork, my quill hand has not yet recovered, then that damn issue of Seeker Weekly—I needed to take the edge off."
Hermione gave a disapproving sniff, though she wasn't all that upset about the gillyweed. She was just sensitive about Harry's well-being. He had been working so hard to get his head right the last few months, she didn't want him to start falling back into bad habits.
She sat at the table and slid a mug of tea across to him.
"Ta, 'Mione." He blew on the tea, and looked at the cup strangely for a minute, like he wasn't sure how to hold it to his lips. She snickered.
Once Harry had a few sips, she decided his head was clear enough for her to break the news. "Harry, I have something to tell you. It's about me and Ron."
"Yes, I heard. Ron told me when I stopped by to pick something up from George." Hermione rolled her eyes knowing that meant the gillyweed he had just smoked. "How are you feeling about it?"
"Honestly? Fine. More than fine, actually. I think we are both feeling relieved more than anything." She sipped her tea thoughtfully. "Was it obvious to you that this was coming?"
Harry was extra candid when he was stoned. "Absolutely. Took a bit longer for you to get here than I expected, to be honest."
"Really?" Hermione sighed in embarrassment. "Why didn't you say anything?"
Harry sputtered through a mouthful of crisps. "I did! Well, I spoke to Ron. I just don't know how to talk to girls about feelings, Hermione. I would've said the wrong thing and you would've been angry at me. Besides, it's really not my place. You needed to figure it out on your own." She knew he was right, but it still felt uncomfortable that all her friends were just waiting for the two of them to break up.
Eager to move the conversation along, Harry asked, "Did you get anything good at Flourish & Blotts? I'm still surprised you're home so soon." He looked at his watch. "It's only half past two! The shop doesn't close for hours!"
"Well, I intended to stay longer, but I was very rudely interrupted." She started to turn red just thinking about it. Once again Malfoy had totally caught her off guard. She had been in complete control the night before. She had been ready, she did not allow him to push her buttons, and other than a few attempts at ensuring the rules were followed properly, she had kept herself laser focused on winning.
Harry looked at her with curiosity. She sighed, "It's Malfoy. Ugh. He was sitting in my chair in no hurry to leave. Then he accosted me because he's obviously upset that his team lost last night and he . . . he wants some sort of re-match."
Harry snorted, "Godric, what a wanker." He looked back in the bag of crisps; they were nearly gone. Sadly, he set the bag of crumbs aside. "Well, there's always next week."
"That's what I said! But ..." She hesitated, biting her lip. The memory of their interaction made her blush. "He wants a re-match, erm, just with me."
Harry looked nonplussed. "I don't understand."
She folded her arms across the table and put her head down hiding her face. Further explanation would reveal a bit more than she was ready for. "Gods, just ... nevermind."
Harry narrowed his eyes in suspicion but let it lie. The two finished their tea and moved into the living room. Harry flopped onto the couch to stretch out, while Hermione pulled out all her books. He let her tell him about her favourite new purchases, while he rolled another gillyweed joint.
Apparently his curiosity got the better of him, because he brought up Malfoy again. "I know the two of you have had some sort of academic rivalry going on since we first started Hogwarts. Has it really never gone away? You didn't even go to the same school for your Masters, and you don't work in the same department." He paused to light his joint and took a hit.
Hermione fell into her arm chair with a resigned sigh. "Harry, I don't know if I can explain it."
He lifted the joint toward her and raised an eyebrow.
"Alright, go on, then." He handed her the joint and she took a generous drag. She coughed a bit as she breathed out the green smoke. It was only her fifth or sixth time smoking gillyweed, and she hadn't quite got the hang of it.
Harry put on a record, and they passed the joint back and forth for a while. They listened to music, while Hermione paged through some of her new books.
After awhile, Hermione felt relaxed enough to let the gillyweed speak her truth. "Things between Malfoy and I are complicated."
Harry had been laying on the couch tossing an old snitch in the air and catching it. Hermione's words piqued his interest, and he sat up on elbow watching her. "How so?"
Tucking her legs underneath her, Hermione took in a slow breath. The gillyweed made the sensation of breathing more intense, and it felt good to pull the oxygen into her lungs. "I've never told you this. Or Ron, for obvious reasons. Our last year at Hogwarts, Malfoy and I sort of ... became friends? Or study partners? I don't know what to call it. We worked together a lot to prepare for our N.E.W.T.s."
Harry nodded but still looked confused at why this would make things complicated. "As we spent more time together, I started to notice this ... tension." Harry sat up, listening carefully.
Hermione continued "And I didn't know what to do with that. I was with Ron, of course, and I wasn't planning on doing anything. I convinced myself I was probably imagining it and that suspicion was confirmed when he kind of blew me off after the tests were over."
"He blew you off? After you helped him study all that time? What a prick!" Harry scowled, scrunching up one of the pillows on the couch.
"No, I mean, we helped each other study. He's really quite brilliant, and his Potions knowledge is truly unmatched." She picked at her cuticles, "I thought he didn't want to be friends because I was a Muggle-born, and I got too close, too familiar."
Harry huffed. But Hermione shrugged. "But now I have no fucking clue. He's been giving me all these mixed signals. Does he hate me, does he want to be my friend?"
She leaned back, closing her eyes. "And the tension is there and it's getting so much worse and I'm seriously tempted to do something so stupid . . . ."
Hermione cut herself off, realising she may have shared too much. Fucking gillyweed.
"Erm, maybe forget I said that last part." She slowly looked at him. Harry was grinning now. They both burst out laughing. They couldn't stop for several minutes. And when they finally stopped, Harry let out one more snort and it all started up again.
"Well, that is just—frankly—bizarre." Harry wiped a few tears of laughter from his eyes. With a sigh, he laid back down on the couch and closed his eyes. "I'm not so insecure in my masculinity to be afraid to admit he's pretty fucking handsome. I'm just not sure he's a guy that will make you happy."
"I'm not sure either." She groaned into her hands. "And I could be entirely misreading him! He could just be teasing me and making me want to do stupid things and then he'll just humiliate me. Fuck. Please don't tell Ron about this."
After Harry agreed, she stood up and stretched, trying to push Malfoy out of her thoughts. "Harry, please tell me something to distract me. Has Tonks put you on any more weird cases?"
Harry was still lying on the couch with his eyes closed. "I'm going on a date with Padma."
"Patil?! You're going on a date with Padma Patil?!" Hermione laughed. "I cannot believe she agreed after the way you treated Parvati at the Yule Ball."
"Actually, she asked me out."
Hermione's jaw dropped. "When did this happen? When's the date?"
Before he could answer, Ginny walked out of her bedroom.
Hermione and Harry looked at each other in alarm. How much of that had she heard?
Enough, apparently. Ginny's mouth was in a thin line, her eyes flashing as she turned to Harry. He quickly stood up from the couch, tucking his shirt in and attempting to flatten his hair. "Don't let me interrupt." Her tone was ice.
Just then, the Floo roared to life and out spun Viktor Krum. "Sorry I am being late, Geenee. I was bringing a bottle of wine—oh, Hermoninny! And Hah-rry!"
Hermione was never so glad to see Viktor in her life. His arrival was perfectly timed. Soon they were busy with hugs and handshakes, and how-are-yous.
Unfortunately, the break in the tension didn't last long.
"So," said Harry, "you're here to see Ginny, then." He was smiling but his green eyes were like knives.
"Yes, he is, and I wasn't aware Hermione was having company. Are you intending to stay long?" Ginny's voice was dripping in fake politeness. Harry refused to look at her, his eyes remained on Viktor.
If Viktor noticed the tension, he chose not to acknowledge it. "Oh, but it is so very nice to see Hermoninny and Hah-rry. We have plenty of wine and we should all share a glass, yes?"
"No, I'm sorry to say I can't stay, Krum." Harry finally looked at Ginny. "I'm afraid I'm not up for it." Ginny's arms were crossed and her eyes remained like shards of ice.
"See you Monday, Hermione. Nice to see you, Krum. Ginny." Harry grabbed his coat, threw it on, and turned on his heel with a loud crack.