The year eights were sitting in their common room tasting another of Harry's cakes, this time a chocolate and beetroot creation with an incredible chocolate ganache, when an owl swooped in and headed straight to Hermione. She froze, her heart thumping slightly, for fear that it might be bad news about her parents. Reaching forward cautiously, she pulled the note from the proffered leg while Harry dug around in his pocket for some owl treats to give the bird.
I'm in the Hogshead. I want to talk to you immediately. You're making a mistake. Ron
She felt the anger rise like a red mist. How dare he! How dare he say she was making a mistake! How dare he command her to go to him! She crumpled the paper angrily and threw it into the fire that was crackling merrily.
'Mione?' both Blaise and Harry queried at the same time.
She ran her hands through her hair as the others watched her, somewhat surprised by her show of emotions.
'Ron,' she said, as if that explained everything.
She noticed Blaise bristle slightly, but no one could ignore that Harry had sat bolt upright, his green eyes blazing and fists clenching slightly. 'What's he done?' he asked. She also noticed how Draco's hand had rested on Harry's forearm but he had shrugged it off.
'He's in Hogsmeade. He wants to see me. He thinks...' she couldn't say it aloud, she was deeply offended.
'You told him then,' Harry asked. The other year eights were watching them closely and she was mortified that her dirty washing should be aired so publicly.
She nodded, 'he has an opinion...' She flushed slightly, she noticed that Blaise's skin had also darkened as if he understood what she was trying to communicate with Harry.
'I'll go,' Harry said. 'Things are pretty irreparable between us now, so what's another argument,' he shrugged. 'I might get to punch him again for being such a fucking knob...'
'Harry!' she shuddered. She didn't want her bestfriend getting in a fight with her ex, no matter their past, and especially not over her. But he was already on his feet. As was Draco and Blaise.
'For God's sake! Bloody men!' she exclaimed, exasperated with them all. 'Look at you, you're all bristling for a fight.'
'Actually,' Draco said. 'I'll be standing just behind Harry, ready to catch him if needs be, I'm only going to look threatening in my best Slytherin way. We're cowards really but rather good at looking like the handsome bad guys.'
'And you!' she pointed her finger at Blaise.
'It's a matter of honour, I can't have someone else fighting for my girlfriend's reputation on my behalf.'
'My reputation is not involved in this. And nor am I yours to have a fucking fight over.'
Blaise and Draco sat down very promptly, even Harry froze in his tracks. 'You swore, Mione!'
She would have laughed if she wasn't so angry. 'I will go, and I will talk to him, and I will tell him to piss off out of my life because he lost the privilege long ago of telling me who or what he thinks I should do. Back out of this!'
She stormed off to get her coat.
When she got back to the common room, all three men were waiting by the door in their coats too.
She rolled her eyes.
Harry said, 'well, you're not going alone, its dark out there and snowing heavily.'
She prickled and replied with a huff, 'I'm a big girl now, I think I can cope with a little more than the dark and a bit of snow. Don't patronise me, Harry.'
But he just smirked, 'I wouldn't dare, but you're still not going alone. We'll keep our distance and sit at another table. Just call it moral support. I'll even buy you a drink.'
She was grateful really but also still slightly annoyed with them as she marched off in front, hunched against the snow. Still, at least she was riled up enough not to deal with any shit Ron threw at her.
She ignored the greetings from Auror Knowles and Auror Wilson, though she heard Harry talking to them, apologising for the rather fast pace that she'd set. She also heard Draco mutter something about her being scary when she's in one of her moods and asking if Blaise knew what he'd got himself into.
Blaise, she was grateful to acknowledge, kept quiet.
She pushed open the door to the Hogshead before either Auror had a chance to check it first, but this wasn't Harry's business, it was hers. The Aurors could deal with Harry separately.
She didn't even acknowledge Aberforth, she just scanned the room, spotted Ron at a table by the fire and stormed over, throwing herself down onto the stool opposite him without taking off her coat and hat or even brushing off the snow. She said, 'well?'
She was pleased to see him gulp. But then his gaze went to the door and his blue eyes hardened. 'I see you've brought back-up.'
She glanced around towards the bar where the three men had greeted Aberforth and were chatting idly to him, though Blaise leant almost nonchalantly against the bar, watching her. He quirked a small smile and she turned back around, silently cursing him for being a smug git and overly handsome with it.
'You can't be serious about him,' Ron said, looking at the tall man at the bar. 'He's a Slytherin for a start. He's practically a Death-eater.'
She hated Ron in that moment, she hated his narrow-mindedness, his bigotry, his assumptions. 'Oh, grow up! Is that really your reasoning? Jesus, Ronald. I thought you were better than that. I thought being an Auror would teach you to be more open-minded.'
'I am. But Zabini's the bloody enemy.'
'He's not! He's a wonderful man. He was never involved in Voldemort at all, and he has nothing to do with the Dark Arts. He hates the pureblood bigotry. He's a hard worker and intelligent and an utter gentleman.'
'I don't like him and he's messing on with my girlfriend.'
'When are you going to get it into your thick skull that I'm not your girlfriend anymore?'
'That's why I'm here. I think we should try again. I still love you. Mione, come to The Burrow for Christmas and we can try again.'
'You don't love me, Ron. You love the idea of me, you think of me as a replica of your mother, a ready housewife prepared to have your babies while you have the macho wand-waving career...' Ron even wasn't listening to her, he was watching what was happening behind her back. She swivelled on her stool to see. Harry, Draco, and Blaise had moved to a table on the far side of the pub. Blaise was still watching her intently, his fingers idly turning his wand which was placed on the table next to his glass. Knowles and Wilson were stood by the door, also watching, but watching Ron rather than Harry.
'Why the bloody hell is Harry getting all touchy-feely with Malfoy?' Harry was brushing some snow from Draco's hair.
'When the hell are you going to pull your asinine head out of your arse? Do you really need me to spell it out to you again? Harry. Is. Gay. Which you've been told five hundred times and might have actually taken in if you bothered to communicate with him and asked him about his life. Instead you've been utterly obsessed about him of trying to get in my knickers. And. As it happens, Draco is also gay. And it makes a lot of sense. They have a lot in common. They always have if you had a teaspoon's worth of intelligence to think back over the last seven years and all that obsessing over each other.'
'Are they going out?'
'Are you here to talk about the non-existent us or about Harry's love-life?'
'Bloody hell! They're not fucking, are they?' Ron had gone rather red.
'Go home, Ron. I don't want to talk to you again. In fact, don't contact me again, ever.' She got up. 'There is no us, there never will be. You saw to that when you prioritised your Auror training over me, my parents, and Harry, and then, to add insult to injury, you only called me up when you needed help studying for your exams. You're so transparent. You have no interest in me otherwise. You have no idea what I want from life. And I can tell you, it's certainly not what you're offering me.'
She wondered if he'd even listened to her, but she whipped away and made her way over to Blaise, Harry, and Draco. When she reached the table, she wasn't sure if she wanted to cry or laugh, instead she reached for Blaise's glass of Firewhiskey that he was toying with, picked up and knocked it back in one before slumping down next to him.
Blaise hooked a finger under her chin and pulled her face towards his. 'Are you okay?' he said with concern.
'Yes,' she sighed. 'He's just a bloody thick-headed prat!'
Blaise gave her a quick peck on the lips, 'I know some good hexes, if you want.'
Ron's shadow loomed over the table and Hermione almost wanting to shrink back against Blaise's chest but she sat there straight-backed, waiting for what he had to say. Blaise had already placed an arm protectively around her while his other hand now lightly held his wand, though he hadn't actually picked it up off the table.
Ron's gaze flicked from them to Harry and Draco. He was clearly taking in the details, Harry's tight jeans and t-shirt, the facial hair and messy raven-hair exposing his scar, the loss of his glasses. And he looked at how close together the two men sat, at Draco's muggle look and the exposed new tattoo which covered the shadow of his Dark Mark. A look of derision contorted his face and a slight sneer curling his lip.
'So, it's true then? And I thought it was just a cowardly excuse to get you out of your relationship with Ginny so you and her could...' he nodded his head towards Hermione who was ready to snatch Blaise's wand out of his hand and hex him her-bloody-self. 'And you're with that slimy git.' He leaned over the table, placing his hands on its surface so his broad muscular shoulders bulged over Harry threateningly.
Hermione watched with bated breath, she could see the amusement in Draco's face but Harry appeared quite calm, worryingly so. She also saw that Auror Knowles and Auror Wilson had taken two steps forward and stood a little more upright, they were watching intently, their hands twitching by their sides, wands drawn.
'Who? Dray?' Harry asked innocently, his expression drawn into an unreadable emotionless mask. Hermione knew it spelled danger.
'I can't believe you would do that, Harry. Him of all people. That pretty pink tattoo doesn't cover up who bloody he is or hide that he made your life hell. Blimey, he stamped on your face and broke your nose with his fucking foot.'
Hermione groaned inwardly, of all the moments of the past to bring up. She didn't miss the fact that Draco closed his eyes and shuddered deeply at that incident being brought up. When he opened his eyes, his gaze dropped to the table as a look of shame shadowed his face. But Harry seemed oblivious to Draco's reaction, instead his face went stony and his eyes like hard emerald stones which flashed dangerously.
'He also saved my life, Ron. Doesn't that speak louder than anything?'
'That doesn't mean you owe him anything, especially not...' Ron blustered, waving a hand vaguely, indicating between them, and going redder by the second.
'It's not because I owe Dray anything. I happen to have spent time with him and got to know him. And you know what? I like him, rather a lot. He's not who you assume he is, he's not his father. Dray is caring, funny, and...' Harry leaned back calmly, never breaking eye contact with Ron as he put an arm around Draco and pulled him against him, as if challenging Ron to dispute what he was saying, '...extremely good looking. And, what's more, he's been here when I've needed someone to listen and help, like a true friend. In fact, scrap that, I don't just like him, I think I love him. That just about answers your question, doesn't it?' Harry turned his intense green eyes on Draco, staring deeply at the other man and smiling softly. Hermione was wondering what he was hoping to achieve, with both Ron and Draco, especially as a brief flash of guilt passed across Ron's face and a rather flushed Draco was staring at Harry with a slightly parted mouth.
A silence was suspended around the table, everyone was caught by Harry's words. She was holding her breath.
Jesus, the look between the two men was so powerful, Ron's presence was entirely forgotten.
She felt Blaise holding her hand tightly.
Draco's gaze flicker to Harry's lips.
'If there was ever a time to kiss me, Harry, it's now, even if it's just to wind the Weasel-wanker up,' Draco whispered softly, though they all heard. 'You know I feel the same.'
Despite the emotional ambiguity that surrounded the situation, her heart thumped violently and she wondered if her stomach was in her mouth. She was torn between silently urging Harry onwards and the worry that it would confuse things further between him and Draco. Of course, there was a little bit of glee at the thought of winding up Ron further because, she thought, he really is a being a prat at the moment, not that she was holding onto grudges from the past, but he deserved this after Lavender, and his behaviour about Viktor, and for deserting her and Harry last year, as well as his stupid behaviour since the war.
Sod that, she thought, just do it, Harry, please!
As Harry leant forward, her toes curled for them in delight and she couldn't help smiling broadly as their lips came together softly, Harry's hand moving into Draco's hair to hold him close and Draco cupping Harry's face hesitantly, his fingertips in Harry's dark beard. She glanced at Blaise and she could see the reciprocated cheering in his eyes. But then he nodded towards Ron and she turned towards him; the colour had completely drained from his face.
'You're disgusting!' he exploded, before turning on his heel to march out. Though not before Blaise had sent a tripping hex in his direction and Auror Wilson had caught his arm to stop him sprawling out across the floor and Auror Knowles had clipped him around the back of his head and told him to stop being such a prat, grow up, and to go home.
As the door slammed behind Ron, Harry and Draco pulled apart and they burst out laughing.
But then Harry looked at Draco, a paleness crept across his tanned cheeks, and he got up hurriedly. 'I think I'll get another round of drinks in, seeing as Blaise's Firewhiskey has mysteriously disappeared and I promised to buy you one, Hermione.'
Blaise harrumphed.
'I'll come with you,' Hermione smiled apologetically as she shrugged off her coat. She noticed Draco's gaze following Harry with something akin to fear clearly visible in his eyes.
When they got to the bar, Harry sank down onto one of the bar stools. 'Shit!' he murmured and ran a hand raggedly through his dark hair, pushing it back from where it had fallen around his face. She didn't fail to notice his hands were shaking slightly.
'Harry?' she said softly with concern.
'Don't! Just don't say anything, Mione!'
(Sorry Ron! Love you really...)