three little words ; 𝐝𝐫𝐚𝐦𝐢𝐨𝐧𝐞

9. Problems

Hermione's POV

The next few days for Hermione were a blur. Classes were the same, but it was her that was different. She and Draco's secret love was exciting her, and she couldn't stop thinking about him. She saw him in the corridors, and she grinned at him. He would wink at her, making her blush. She had to duck her head down until the flush was gone from her cheeks.

Hermione was just getting back into the common room after Transfiguration, when Ginny looked up at her with worry. She dropped her stuff and hurried over to the plush chair her friend was sitting in.

"We've got problems," Ginny said, pointing to a picture in the Daily Prophet.

Hermione scooted closer to see. It was a headline reading, "LESTRANGE ON THE RUN" with a picture of Bellatrix below it. She gasped. Bellatrix had died in the Great Hall, Mrs. Weasley had killed her. Ginny had been there, watching. How could it be? How could she be alive?

"But...how...?" Hermione stumbled for words. She was taken aback, shocked. She didn't understand. It didn't make any sense.

"I know," Ginny said, her confusion showing through. "I want to tell somebody, like Harry, but he's been through so much, I don't want to have to bring it up again." She looked worriedly over at Harry.

Desperately trying to lighten the situation, Hermione joked, "Just snog him some more, I'll bet he wouldn't even care."

Ginny hit her arm lightly. "Hermione, I'm not kidding!" Then she narrowed her eyes. "Do you think...do you think Malfoy could help? I mean, he's practically grown up with these people. And she's his aunt. If you really know him, if he's really changed, then maybe he'll help us--you."

Hermione was shocked. "What!" she gasped. "No! No way! You were the one that wanted me to be friends with him. You claimed to see past his label and blood status. God, Ginny, now you want him to revisit that? He can't do that! It's too soon--"

"What's too soon?" Harry butted in.

Ginny scrambled for words. "Well, uh--we were reading the Prophet, and er..." she shot Hermione a panicked look.

"Nothing. We were just talking about the rubbish Rita Skeeter's been writing. About Dumbledore and Voldemort, you know." Hermione saved her friend.

Harry nodded and gave Ginny a peck on the cheek. "Going to play Quidditch with Ron, wanna come?"

Ginny looked at Hermione sitting beside her. "Um, no thanks. I'll probably come later."

He left with Ron, broomstick in hand.

"Okay," Ginny breathed, "back to work."

Hermione pondered. What ways could one come back from the dead? None, of course. But somehow, someway, she must've.

Hermione gasped. "I've got it!"

Ginny stared at her. "Okay, then spill!"

She scrambled for words. "The--"

Ginny continued to stare. "Which magical item? I mean, I know I wasn't there for the Sorcerer's Stone junk, but I know enough."

Hermione shook her head. "No, it's not that. It's--it's the--"

She was cut off by Ron, who had come back. "Ginny, come on! A couple rounds of good ol' Quidditch, will ya?"

Hermione nodded her on when her friend looked at her with wariness. She could deal with this herself. For the time being. But she couldn't deny the fact that at some point, she--or anyone else that found out--would have to tell McGonagall. And they didn't want it to come to that.

She took the newspaper and folded it up, taking it to her trunk in the dormitory. Safe and sound. Leaving to go to the Quidditch pitch, she waved along a friend, Luna. She hadn't seen her for what seemed like forever, so she thought it would be a good time to catch up.

The two girls met Harry, Ron, and Ginny, who were playing a quick game of 3 person Quidditch. Ginny had the Quaffle, Harry was looking for the Snitch, and Ron was happily positioned at the hoops.

"Come on, Ginny, make it harder!" Ron complained as the two newcomers made their way to the side of the pitch. "You know I can do better!"

"Yeah right! 'WEASLEY IS OUR KING!'" Ginny recited a line from the chant that Slytherin had started as an insult, but Gryffindor turned it into a song for Ron; because of it he was much more confident during the game and had won it.

When they were dripping with sweat and Harry had found the Snitch over and over again, the players headed over to the girls who had stayed to watch. Ginny attempted to throw her arm over Hermione's shoulders, but she shook it off, disgusted.

"Eww!" She shrieked. "Ginny, that's revolting!"

Ginny mock-pouted. "I'm not that sweaty."

"Yes, you really are."

Ginny groaned. "Fine." She gave up on Hermione and hurried forward to Harry, who didn't care about her perspiration; he had plenty of his own. Reaching down, he kissed her, and Ron made grotesque noises, like he was going to throw up.

"Oi! Cut that out, will you?" He complained.

As quick as they could say "Gryffindor," the rain started. Hermione and Luna, dry when they first went out, screamed in surprise. But as for the other three, they run around in the rain, grateful for it; it cleansed them of the smell.

They ran for cover, which ended up being the corridor, puddle of water following them. Hermione flicked her wand and their clothes dried, as well as the floor. Then, with a deafening CRACK! thunder filled the sky, and Hermione jumped. "Bloody hell!" She gasped. The worst fear she had was of thunderstorms. She hated them.

Ron tried to comfort her, but bike started to rise in her throat, so she ducked her head and scurried off to the common room, leaving Ginny, Harry, Ron, and Luna standing there, looking at her, dumbfounded.

Skipping every other step, Hermione raced up the stairs to her dormitory, and threw open the top of her trunk. There, laying right where she'd left it, was the newspaper. She didn't know why she was hiding it, especially since Harry and Ron had stopped reading it. Besides, they were social. Someone else could've already told them. But, considering their behavior, she didn't think so.

When she heard footsteps outside the door, she panicked, but relaxed when she heard it was Ginny. It was starting to worry her, how she freaked out with a newspaper. It was pointless!

Ginny met her, and asked her the question she was just about to ask. "What do we do?"

"I don't know." Hermione shrugged. "I mean, I don't want them to find out by someone else, but I don't want to bring it up to Draco. He might--you know--freak."

Ginny sighed. "I know."

Hermione brightened. "What if we tell both of them? What if I tell Draco and you tell Harry? We could potentially get them to work together."

Ginny nodded. "That might work, but I don't know if they'll work together very well." Hermione agreed.

They went their separate ways, Ginny to the common room, Hermione off to find Draco.

Her mind waltzed with questions.

Would she find him? If she did, would he listen? If he did, would he help? And if he did that, what would the outcomes be?