Hermione stared up at the ceiling, eyes unseeing. Her mind was racing, preoccupied with the horrors of last night. She had stayed on Harry's stoop, crying her heart out, but silently so she wouldn't wake his cranky neighbor. She hadn't wanted to go home, even though the ground was hard and her dress was still soaked through. The idea of Draco waiting for her at her flat was almost as unbearable as the idea of him not being there.
When she could barely stay awake, she apparated back to her apartment, disconnected her chimney from the floo network, removed Draco's permissions to apparate into her flat, and finally stumbled into bed for some restless sleep.
Crookshanks was now at her feet, and Widdershins was at her face, licking her back into the world of the living. With a groan, Hermione glanced over at her alarm clock. It was ten in the morning. She was supposed to be in Venice with Draco, not being smothered by her cats. The reminder brought on a fresh wave of tears.
A knock at the door interrupted her pity party. Startled, Hermione shot up in bed, instantly regretting it. Her head positively ached, and now that she was thinking about it, so did her throat. Great. On top of all the wonderful things that were going on in her life, she was getting a cold.
Hoping her visitor would go away, she laid back down on her bed. Hermione wasn't ready to face the world. In fact, she was still hoping that last night had been nothing more than an unusually horrid nightmare. Throwing her pillow on top of her head, Hermione willed herself to go back to sleep and wake up in the real world, where she and Draco were still friends and she hadn't ruined her life. But the knocking only grew louder. And then there was yelling. "Hermione, it's Ginny. I'm coming in!"
Without waiting for an answer, her friend appeared in the bedroom with a loud pop. Hermione made no effort to greet her, only lifting her pillow up to see if the intruder really was Ginny. Satisfied it wasn't an imposter, Hermione's head lolled back onto her bed.
"I came as soon as Harry told me," Ginny said from the other side of the room.
So it wasn't a nightmare. The only response Hermione could make was to curl up into the fetal position, feeling like a big baby, but not really caring. What bothered her, though, was that Ginny obviously wasn't taking the hint that she wanted to be left alone.
Her friend walked over to the bed, holding something out for Hermione to see. Somehow, she dredged up the energy to look at her. "These were outside your door," Ginny said.
It was Hermione's travel bag. And her wand.
"Malfoy must have brought them back while you were sleeping," Ginny said, putting the items down on the floor before joining her on the bed. Hermione thought about burying her head back under her pillow, but she was too irritated to do anything but glare up defiantly at her friend.
"Oh...you look awful," Ginny said, brushing the hair out of Hermione's face. "And you're burning up too."
Not exactly what Hermione wanted to hear, but she knew she looked terrible. It was the way Ginny's words were saturated with sympathy that made Hermione's stomach sink. If Ginny was showing her pity, things were really bad. Hermione laid her head back on the pillow, wiping away the tears that were silently falling down her face. She tried to stop, but then Ginny began rubbing circles on her back, and it was all she could do to keep from sobbing.
"Do you want to talk about it?" Ginny asked.
"What's left to say? I made an absolute fool of myself."
"I'm sure it wasn't that bad."
"You're right. It was catastrophic."
"Why don't you start from the beginning?"
So Hermione did. She told Ginny everything. About the topless mermaids, the sunblock art, the dinner, the grotto, Urania, the not-so-see-through dress, the scar, the kisses, and finally the slap.
When Hermione finished, she looked up from her pillow and wailed, "Ginny, why am I such an idiot?"
But instead of lecturing her on her stupidity, Ginny just smiled. "You're not an idiot. You're just a very confused girl who tends to over think things until she's petrified herself. It's not as bad as you think."
"Not that bad?! Ginny, I'm in love with Draco Malfoy! And he knows!"
"Actually, he doesn't. You never told him that. But that doesn't matter; everything will turn out fine."
"How can you say that? I don't even know how to begin fixing this."
"It's quite simple, really. You'll tell him that he was right, that you're in love with him."
"Are you insane? There is no way I am going to admit that. And even if I were, it would be impossible, since I'm never going to see him again."
Ginny shook her head, still smiling in a way that grated on Hermione's overwrought nerves. "Why are you laughing?! I'm being serious. Do you honestly think I can face Draco after what happened?"
"You're going to have to talk to him eventually, like at work...or on your date to Pansy's wedding."
Hermione had forgotten all about that. She had accrued enough vacation time, so she could put off worrying about returning to work for a few weeks. Pansy's wedding was slightly trickier, but surely a week before the wedding wasn't too late to cancel. She'd just get Pansy an extra special wedding gift.
"I'm not going," Hermione said.
Ginny crossed her arms over her chest, raising her eyebrows. "So are you planning on hiding in your room for the rest of your life?"
"Maybe."
Hermione hadn't meant it when she first answered, but now that she thought about it, it wasn't such a bad idea after all. She could summon food here. Maybe even train Crookshanks and Widdershins to fetch the paper or run errands for her. Finances might be problematic, but she was sure her parents would help her out if she asked. And her friends could-
"Absolutely not!" Ginny said, shaking her. "I refuse to be friends with a recluse, so you can stop devising whatever barmy ideas you're planning!"
"They are not barmy! It could work if I just—"
"Alright, enough wallowing. It's turning your brain to mush." Ginny pulled Hermione out of bed. "It's time we got you a Pepperup Potion and some chicken noodle soup." Dragging her to the kitchen, Ginny started going through the cabinets while Hermione sank into her chair, resting her burning cheek against the cool of the table.
After Ginny opened a can of condensed soup and set it to boil, she plopped down in the chair next to Hermione, holding out the Pepperup Potion. "Drink this," she ordered.
"No. I plan on calling in sick for the rest of the week. If I drink that, I won't be able to." Hermione pushed the potion away. "Besides, I deserve to be sick for being so stupid," she said.
"Hermione, if you don't drink this, I will tie you down to the table and force it down your throat."
And people thought Draco was a bully. He was a kitten in comparison to Ginny. "Some comforter you are." Snatching the potion, she took an angry sip. "You're as insensitive as Harry."
"He's a boy. They aren't smart when it comes to these things. And I don't think either of us realized what a shock this would be for you. We've all kind of considered you and Malfoy as a couple for some time."
Hermione being friends with Draco was one thing, but actually dating their childhood nemesis? She had never seriously entertained the idea of actually being Draco's girlfriend, but if she had, she would have counted on strong opposition from her friends. Apparently, she was wrong. "Really? Ron and Harry are OK with that?" Hermione asked.
"Well, yeah. They've been playing Quiddith with him for nearly a year. They've... bonded over that."
Hermione didn't believe her, and it must have shown across her face.
"What?" Ginny asked. "People bond over Quidditch all the time. And even if there weren't Quidditch, Malfoy's changed, and he makes you happy. That would be reason enough for Harry and Ron to try to be friends with him."
Huh. That was embarrassing. How was it that Harry and Ron, two boys who would have had difficulty passing their classes without her, had figured out how vital a part Draco played to her happiness? Had her brain really turned to mush?
"So am I the only person who didn't know I was in love with Draco?" Hermione asked.
"Pretty much."
"Why didn't you tell me?!"
"I tried, but you wouldn't listen."
"Well, you should have tried harder! You could have spared me all of this!"
"How? Would you have made yourself stop falling in love with Malfoy?"
"Yes!"
Ginny was laughing now. "You are such a liar. Do you expect me to believe you would you have ended your friendship with him? Or set him up on dates with other witches, so he would be off limits to you? Tell me, would you have set him up with Sharon?"
Hermione stood to her feet, enraged. "Of course not! She's an idiot! And it's too late now. I'm already in love with him. The very idea of Draco with anyone but me makes me sick! And not being friends with him will never be an option!"
"Finally! This is the Hermione I'm looking for. Angry, determined, willing to fight for her man. And the steam coming out of your ears only adds to the picture," Ginny said, clapping her hands approvingly. "Now go get him, you Gryffindor lioness!"
But Hermione wasn't a lioness. After last night, she could only be mocked and derided for being a yellow-bellied coward who ran away from the guy who gave her the most mind-blowing kiss of her life. In her defense, most everybody thought she should have been sorted into Ravenclaw. They were eagles; no one ever accused eagles of being brave. Of course, her brain interjected, eagles were known for going after their prey, relentlessly attacking until they had taken what was theirs. But Draco wasn't hers. Maybe she should have been placed in Hufflepuff. But even their mascot loyally fought for what it wanted. All of a sudden, Hermione's passion and energy left her, and she fell back into her chair.
"I'm not even a badger," she said, despairingly.
"What are you talking about?" Ginny asked.
"I don't even know anymore, but I can't tell Draco how I feel about him."
"Why not? How hard could it be? You'll just say, 'Draco, I made a mistake.' And then you'll kiss him, and start your happily ever after. The end."
Poor, ignorant Ginny. Did she really think that's how relationships worked? Maybe if feelings were reciprocated, which in Ginny's case always seemed to be the case. "It's not that simple."
"Yes it is!"
"No, it's not. At this point, I need to be working on damage control, and that means getting over him."
"And why would you do that?! Malfoy is as much in love with you as you are in love with him."
Upset at Ginny's uncooperativeness, Hermione waved an accusing finger in her face. "How am I supposed to stop feeling this way when you say things like that? I need to kill whatever hope I have of being with him, and when you tell me lies, it only makes it harder."
"Good! And I will continue to make this as difficult as possible until you finally get it through your thick skull that he loves you!"
"But Draco never said that. And he pulled away from me."
"And you said you didn't even like him and slapped him. When emotions are running high, people do stupid things."
"Like when Draco kissed me?"
"Aaahhh!" Ginny yelled, wringing her hands in frustration. "Alright, since my heartfelt assurances are having no impact on you whatsoever, let's look at the facts. One: Malfoy kissed you first-"
"Also pulled away from me first-"
"He probably didn't want to lose control. Or maybe wanted to discuss things with you, make sure he was what you really wanted before it got out of hand. No guy initiates a kiss like the one you had with him only to pull back and say, 'I don't actually like you,' or 'This was the worst mistake of my life.' Two: Malfoy told you about the worst time of his life. Most people don't even think he has a heart, and yet there he was, pouring it out to you."
"That's only because I'm his closest friend."
"Which brings us to fact three: your 'friendship' looks an awful lot like my relationship with Harry. He's always complimenting you, always looking at you, always touching you. He took you to Capri-"
Hermione beat down the hope that sprung from Ginny's words, reminding both of them that, "It was only for business."
"How many dinners did you have with Scholes when you worked at the Ministry? And did Scholes ever ask you to rub sun block on him? Or tell you he wanted to see you in a bikini? Or plan a Saturday trip with you to Venice?... Well, I'm waiting for an answer."
Thank Merlin, no! The very idea of her old boss wanting to do those things with Hermione sent her shuddering. Especially the bit about the sun block. That portly, pasty roly-poly man in a swimsuit was the stuff of nightmares. Worse than a thousand shirtless Goyles. When she had recovered from her disgust, she pointed out, "Unfair comparison. Scholes despised me. He would never have asked me to spend more time with him than was absolutely necessary."
"Well, at least we've established that Malfoy does not despise you."
"I already knew that! We are...we were best friends." Hermione hung her head in her hands, remembering all that she had lost. "He probably hates me now."
"You hurt his feelings. He'll be upset, but I'm sure he'll get over it once you admit that he was right. And then he'll be very, very happy. So happy that you might want to consider getting married, but not until next year. Say around April. You wouldn't want to rush things."
What?! A marriage in April? Hermione didn't even know if Draco still wanted to be her friend, and yet Ginny was already planning their wedding. Why would she do that? Unless...
"You told me you called that bet off!" Hermione said.
Ginny shrugged her shoulders, completely unapologetic. By all rights, Hermione should have chased her around the room and strangled her, but what was the point? At least when there was no wedding, Ginny would lose whatever money she had bet.
"You know what, it doesn't matter, because I'm not going to tell him. Maybe then things will just die down and we can go back to normal," Hermione said hopefully. Sure, Draco was upset. But if she apologized for her behavior, left him alone for a while, let the passage of number and wear down her heart, why couldn't their rift be repaired?
"I hate to break this to you, Hermione, but things will never go back to normal. Not after something like this."
Hermione could feel the air being sucked out of her lungs. "What do you mean?"
"You and Malfoy made out! You can't go back after that. Only forward." Ginny must have seen how terrifying such a proposition was, because she added, "Don't worry. Forward is good. Spectacular, even."
"I think you mean wretched."
"You'll never know unless you tell him. And if you don't, I will, because there is no way I am going to let you mess this up."
"That isn't for you to decide, Ginny! This is my life, not some silly bet."
"I know that! What kind of friend do you take me for? But Malfoy isn't going to wait forever. You have to let him know."
She was right, but that didn't help Hermione overcome her greatest obstacle. "Ginny, I'm scared."
Her friend reached across the table, clasping her hand. "You're a Gryffindor. You'll get over it."
"Why does everyone think that because I'm a Gryffindor I'm actually brave."
"Because you are. You're Hermione Granger for crying out loud, and now you need to start acting like it."
"But who is Hermione Granger?" She had already concluded that she wasn't a lion, eagle, or badger. And she was no snake. What was left? A pygmy puff?
Ginny threw her hands up in the air. "You have got to be kidding me. Who is Hermione Granger? What kind of question is that?"
"I'm having an existential crisis over here, and all you can do is mock me?"
"No, what you are doing is making excuses. Deep down, you know I'm right. And what's more, you know that Draco deserves to know the truth. As a friend, you owe him that."
This was the one argument Hermione didn't want to hear, because it was the only one that actually had any power over her. Of course Draco deserved to know. As much as Hermione wanted to live out the rest of her life in her apartment being catered to by her cats, she knew that if she did, she would be haunted by Draco for the rest of her life. The way he had looked at her right after she had slapped him, his eyes hurt and wet with tears, broke her heart, and she couldn't live with herself if she didn't try to fix the mess she had created. Even if it meant her humiliation, she would explain to him that the real problem was not that he had made a mistake. The problem was that she loved him so much and couldn't stand the idea of him not loving her back. But admitting this didn't make what she had to do any easier, and it certainly didn't render her eventual humiliation any more palatable.
"What if he laughs at me? Or what if...what if he can't love me back?" Hermione asked.
"Malfoy would never laugh at you for something like this, and if he does, I have a Bat-Bogey hex reserved especially for him. And if he doesn't love you back, well, I suppose your life will cease to have meaning and you'll just have to kill yourself."
Hermione looked over at Ginny, her jaw dropped in shock. "You're joking, right?"
"Sweet Merlin! Hermione, you know as well as I do that no other human being will complete you. If he says 'no, thank you,' you'll just have to move on like everybody else who has had their heart broken. But I think we're taking the wrong approach here. We should be concentrating on the good things that could happen if it turns out that I'm right and he's sick with love for you."
"You should be happy that I'm even contemplating telling him. I refuse to think about anything beyond that. It raises hope unnecessarily, and I need to keep my expectations low."
"Then I'll think about it for you. Hmm...First, he'll take you in his arms and reveal that he's loved you for ages. Because you're you, you won't believe him and try to talk him out of it. At first he just presses a finger to your lips, but you won't shut up, so he smothers your words with his mouth. Since you're in his office, you're worry about how unprofessional all this is, but he just laughs, tells you he's the boss and can do whatever he wants, then puts up a silencing charm. Then he flings everything off his desk, lays you across it, and—"
"Ginny!"
"Huh?" The redhead, who had been staring off into the distance, glanced back over at Hermione. "Sorry about that. Got a bit carried away, didn't I?"
"A bit?"
"Oh please. You're the one in love with him. Don't tell me you haven't pictured yourself...snogging with him in his office."
Hermione blushed. "Fine. I won't."
Ginny grinned up at her wickedly. "I knew it! What else?"
"I really don't think-"
"Spill. Now!"
It couldn't hurt to tell one Ginny, could it? And besides, Hermione had pretty much skipped over this girlish silliness when she was at Hogwarts. Maybe she just needed to get it out of her system.
"Well... lately most of the time I'm with him, I'll randomly start thinking about kissing him. The locations change. Sometimes it's in his office or mine. Or in the elevator. Or in my flat or the Manor. On the beach, in the rain, even riding on his broom and you know how afraid of heights I am..."
When Ginny didn't laugh her head off, Hermione continued revealing all the things she had kept to herself for fear her friends would reject her. Or kill her. "And maybe I've pictured what it would be like to be married to him...And, um, maybe I've planned our honeymoon too. I've even pictured what all our kids will look like...and named them. But I only think about those things occasionally. Mostly it's just the snogging." Badly hiding her embarrassment, she mumbled, "I'm crazy, aren't I?"
"No crazier than the next girl."
"Really?"
"Hermione, I've had those fantasies too. And not just about Harry, but about every guy I've ever had a crush on. In fact, I think you're weird for not thinking these things before."
"Oh, I've thought of them before, when I liked Ron, but it was never this detailed or as often."
"And thank Morgana for that. No one should think about Ron that way."
"You only say that because you're his sister. I'm sure that Lavender—"
"No!" Ginny raised her hands, as if she were warding off a Dementor. "I do not want to know what Lavender thinks about her little Won-Won. Anyway, I should probably be going. I have a match in a couple of hours, and the manager won't be too pleased if I'm not there for warm-up."
Hermione wrapped Ginny in a hug, which was warmly returned. "Thanks for coming here. I feel much better."
"You're welcome. But before I go, I want you to promise me that you will tell Draco this. Only not the part about the fantasies. That can wait till later."
Hermione pushed a smirking Ginny out of her arms. "Fine, I promise I'll let him know how I feel." In about ten years, she silently added. Maybe twenty.
"When?" Ginny prompted.
Blast!
"Monday. When I go to work," Hermione said, grudgingly.
"Good girl!" Ginny said, patting Hermione's head like she would a puppy's.
"If this doesn't turn out well, I'm blaming you," Hermione warned.
"And if it does turn out well?"
"Then I'll take all the credit for it."
"As long as you don't marry him until April of next year, I have no problem with that."
"Shouldn't you be leaving?"
"I suppose." Ginny walked away, but turned at the last second. "Don't forget to eat the soup I made for you." And then she disappeared with a pop.
As it was Saturday, there wasn't anything Hermione needed to do. That left her plenty of time to figure out how to confess her undying love to Draco Malfoy.
Sitting down, she summoned a parchment and quill so she could script out the exact words she would say to him. Or maybe she could compose a letter instead. One that she would owl him from the safety of her office. Yes, that's what she would do. But when she put nib to paper, nothing would come. Her mind went entirely blank.
On the verge of panicking that her intelligence had permanently deserted her, Hermione luckily remembered that she had not eaten since yesterday. No wonder she couldn't think properly.
Getting up, she walked right past the chicken noodle soup still bubbling on her stove top and straight toward the cupboards. Opening one, she dug around until her fingers fell on her desired meal. Pulling it out, she opened it and set her lips to the mouth of the bottle.
"Bottoms up!"
Tipping back the bottle of Ogden's she kept for emergencies such as these, the alcohol went straight down her throat and settled warmly in her stomach. Hmmm. That was more like it.
Had she really thought that Draco would laugh at her? How silly. And how couldn't he love her back? They were perfect for each other.
Turning off her stove, she walked back to the table with her liquid courage. Sitting down, Hermione was determined to write the best love letter ever. One that would make Draco weep with desire for her. Or at least forgive her. Of course, this was hampered by her persistent nerves, but whenever they reared their ugly heads, she took another swig of her marvelous drink. One by one all her fears seemed to disappear, swallowed up by a pleasant sea of Ogden's Old Firewhisky.
After the bottle was half-way gone, the words finally came, only she was having difficulty gripping her quill and seeing the words she was writing.
"I think I'm drunk," she said, giggling loudly.
And then she passed out on the table.
When she woke up a few hours later, it was in a puddle of her own drool and with another pounding headache. Stumbling to her bathroom to retrieve the hangover potion she had never needed to use until now, she gulped it down. Feeling much better, she made her way back to the kitchen table to look at what her firewhisky-soaked brain had come up with.
"Draco, I really, really love you. Will you love me forever too?"
Yuck. Too sappy and stupid.
"I think we would have beautiful babies. Please say you love me."
Pathetic.
"Ginny and Harry and everybody thinks you love me. So you should."
Bossy and unromantic.
"Draco Malfoy + Hermione Granger = True Love."
Maybe if they were in kindergarten.
Thankfully, each and every line had been crossed out, proving that even her drunken self knew how horrible each of the declarations were. Ripping up the sorry attempts, Hermione realized she would have to do this sober.
And afraid.
By the time Monday morning rolled around, she had prepared what she hoped was an honest confession of her love for her best friend and boss. She had practiced it all of Sunday, because she had known this wasn't something that could be sent through an owl, no matter how much she wished it could. Gathering all her courage, she stepped into the elevator at Malfoy Industries. As some unseen troll turned the capstan, bringing her closer and closer to Draco, she inwardly chanted, You are Hermione Granger, you are a Gryffindor, and you can do this! Occasionally, her subconscious plea for the troll to kidnap her broke through her mantra, but when the elevator door opened, she bravely stepped out and made her way to Draco's office.
She was met by Sharon. Smiling as politely as she could, Hermione said, "Do you know what time Mr. Malfoy will be in today?"
Sharon raised a perfectly shaped brow. "Didn't Draco tell you?"
No, Draco, had not told her. And what was with Sharon calling her boss Draco? Hermione's secretary never called her by anything other than her last name. "I must have missed the memo."
Sharon looked down at her hands, examining the manicured French tips. "Oh, there wasn't any memo. I just assumed that he would have told you he would be out of town until Pansy's wedding."
Maybe it they had been on speaking terms he would have. "Did he say where he went?"
"Yes, but I'm under strict orders not to tell anyone. He said if anyone wanted to know where he was, they could talk with his father."
Well that was one way to make sure Hermione didn't find him.
"Alright," Hermione said, turning to leave.
She was almost out the door, when Sharon called to her, "And Miss Granger, he also told me to give you this."
Hermione made her way back to Sharon's desk and took the letter from her with a terse thank you. Once she was out of sight, Hermione ran to her office, shut the door, and put up a silencing charm. Making sure no one could enter her office, she laid the letter on the table, staring at it intensely. This unassuming cream envelop sealed with the Malfoy crest could have all her answers. Would it be a crushing blow? Or the best news of her life?
Whatever it was, she wasn't ready for it. Taking the letter, she hid it in a desk drawer under a bunch of files and tried getting some work done. She wasn't very successful. A seductive voice kept whispering, "Open me, Hermione. Read me. You know you want to." Rather than argue with a letter, Hermione went to the break room to get some coffee. But as soon as she came back, the letter began to call to her. It was time for a walk around the Serpentine, she decided. When she returned, she was able to get through a few of her upcoming projects, but just before lunch she cracked.
Whipping out her wand, she levitated the letter above her desk, casting all sorts of spells to see if Draco had charmed it to make her think she was going insane.
Apparently, she was, because there were no magical traces on the letter whatsoever. The letter's voice was all in her head. Taking the letter into her hands, Hermione decided she would get no work done until she read it. Carefully breaking the seal, she removed the paper within. Inhaling then exhaling deeply, she unfolded the letter and opened her eyes to read Draco's words—the words that would change her life.
We'll talk about Capri after the wedding.
Hermione read the words over a few times before flipping the piece of paper over, looking for the rest of the message. But there wasn't any.
"That's it?!"
Hermione flung the letter across the room, but was disappointed in that too. Instead of sailing across her office, the mangy paper didn't even cleared her desk. It gently wafted to rest about a foot away from her, taunting her. Picking up her wand, she blasted the sorry missive into the wall.
"That's all he can say after I almost die of suspense?! He might as well not have written anything at all! I can't believe I spent my weekend crying over that arrogant...wanker!" Running over to the letter, she dug her heel into it, pretending it was Draco's foot. Then jumped on top of it for good measure. Giving the letter one last satisfying kick, she sent it skittering across the floor.
Finally somewhat calmed down, she sank down into her comfy office chair, glaring at the letter across the way. Taking a few cleansing breaths, she considered that perhaps she had overreacted. Oh, who was she kidding? She could almost picture Draco laughing at her for getting so worked up, first before even opening the letter and then after. And if she weren't so concerned about her future with him, she probably would have been laughing at herself too.
It really wasn't fair. She was the one at a disadvantage, because she was the one in love. Unless Ginny was right about Draco being in love with her. But if he was, how could he act so calm about the whole ordeal, while she was falling apart at the seams? Well, she didn't know if he was calm, because he wasn't even there, which was odd in itself. Draco might have always come in late to work, but he always came. Maybe he was too scared to see her, maybe he felt the same way...
No. She wasn't going to play around with the possibilities. Ginny was right. She was Hermione Granger. It was about time she stopped acting so brainlessly. With as much dignity as possible, Hermione retrieved the ripped up letter from the floor and put it back in its envelope. Perhaps she would wait until the wedding to speak with Draco.
Or perhaps it was time to pay a visit to Lucius Malfoy.
Gulp.