Eight and Eighth--Chapter 11
Title: Eight and Eighth
Author: Marmalade Fever
Characters: Draco Malfoy, Hermione Granger, and more.
Genres: Romance, Drama, weird combo of in-Hogwarts and post-Hogwarts, and Humor. I can't write a fanfic without humor leaking its way in.
Spoilers: DH (though no epilogue)
Overall Rating: PG-13
Summary: Up from the ashes of seventh year grow the roses of the eighth. Eight students return for their final year at Hogwarts, and Hermione Granger would never have thought Draco Malfoy would or could be one of those roses.
Eight and Eighth-Chapter 11-So Long, Ron
Hermione felt as if she had a stomach ache almost every time her thoughts drifted in Ron’s direction. The facts were these:
1) He and August were definitely hiding something from her. According to the bet she’d overheard, August was supposed to tell her because Ron had broken the egg, so now she was waiting for the other girl to spill.
2) She was now reasonably sure that the idea of someday being married to Ron didn’t give her the thrill it had in the sixth year before he’d started dating Lavender. In fact, it made her ill, hence the stomach ache.
3) Ron had become a professional Quidditch player on his favorite team. It was his dream job, so as his girlfriend, she should be happy for him. But Hermione was too practical for that. She wanted him to finish his education, not be gone for chunks of the rest of the year.
There was also the question of who exactly had won that bet. Ron had said he’d get a position and keep the egg from breaking. He’d done one but not the other. Would he be getting that favor or would he be forfeiting it? For all she knew, he could be using the favor to prevent August from telling her whatever it was.
The other thing that was bugging her was completely unrelated to Ron, and that was Malfoy. Every time she entered a room he was in, he’d look up at her for a moment, and first he’d look giddy and then he’d look nervous. She wasn’t so sure she wanted to know.
Then there was also the matter of a certain set of fingers that had been pressed into her lips for well over a minute.
O
The effort of trying to beat Hermione Granger in her studies was starting to take its toll on Draco’s sanity. It had taken Greengrass three tries before she’d been able to catch his attention during his free period on Tuesday.
“I think you’ve been spending too much time with the Gryffindors lately,” she remarked, sitting down across from him in the library. “Don’t you have something a little less common to be doing?”
“Less common than studying while at school?” he asked. “If you haven’t noticed, you’re here in the library too.”
She wrinkled her nose. “So I am.” She watched him for a long moment. “Tell me, Draco-”
“I didn’t realize we were on a first name basis.”
She waved her hand. “Surnames are for enemies and plebeians. We’re neither.” She flashed him a smile before frowning. “What are you staring at?”
“I’m trying to decide if you’re flirting with me or if you have an even less palatable agenda on your mind.”
“Tell me, Draco, shall I give you the evil eye now or later?” she asked, her arms crossed over her chest.
“Lady’s choice,” he responded, running his finger under a sentence in the book he was studying.
“I was going to ask if you’d be interested in accompanying me to Hogsmeade this weekend, but since you’re so obviously opposed….”
Draco looked up at her, his left eyebrow raised. “You do realize I’m not allowed to leave the grounds?”
She pressed her index finger into her lips. “Oh, yes. Your little piece of jewelry. How these things do tend to slip the mind.” She removed her wand from a pocket inside her robes. “Perhaps I could offer you some help?”
“Hmm, a trip to Hogsmeade with you and a risk of being sent to Azkaban for the rest of my life or a normal weekend spent here? Hmm… I believe your pulchritude isn’t quite enough to tempt me. Oh, and pulchritude means-”
“I know what it means, Malfoy.”
“Back to surnames, are we? Does that make me an enemy or a plebeian?”
“Quite possibly both.” She flipped her hair over her shoulder. “Well, then. I think it’s safe to say that you’ve lost your chance.” With that, she spun around on her toe and marched off in the opposite direction.
Odd, Draco thought as he turned back to his books. He’d just turned down a date with a girl who was witty, good-looking, pureblooded, and Slytherin. She’d actually make a very good match for him. So why did he refuse her, other than the obvious illegal aspects entailed?
She was a little young for him, true.
And yet he found himself staring down at his right hand, where a few days ago, lip gloss residue had been left.
He couldn’t say why that thought had stuck with him nor why the memory of the lips behind the lip gloss sent a tingle through his fingers.
He bit his own lip. Perhaps he merely didn’t want to say.
He really should have taken Greengrass up on that offer, at least as a date on the grounds.
O
An entire week went by without Ron or August telling her anything, and Hermione began to wonder if she shouldn’t just confront them. She, Ron, and Harry had gone to Hogsmeade to meet with Andromeda and Teddy. All she could think of was how Ron had failed his “baby” assignment and was thus unfit to watch a teaspoon, never mind an actual child.
In Monday’s Good Grief class, Ron and August had been docked full points on the assignment, earning a T. August looked mildly annoyed, and she kept looking over at Hermione with a funny expression on her face, but that was it.
Another week went by, and Hermione was becoming rightfully agitated. By the end of October, Ron had been gone six whole days for Quidditch practice, and Harry had been gone two for an extended call-back. It was on one of these days with neither of the boys that Hermione found herself seated next to Ginny during an uneventful potions class-Candanver was snoring-and she decided to satisfy a question that had been niggling in her mind for quite some time.
“So Ginny,” she said, keeping her voice down so that none of the Slytherins in the room, specifically Malfoy, would overhear, “Harry mentioned something to me awhile back, and I found it a little… odd.”
Ginny looked up from the doodle she’d been making of Crookshanks on a broomstick, trying to catch the snitch the same way he normally tried to catch moths. “Oh?”
“Yeah. He said something about you,” she paused, “er, wanting to get engaged?”
Ginny froze first and then snorted. “What! Where’d he get that idea?”
Hermione breathed a sigh of relief she hadn’t known she’d been holding. “He said you told him your ring size.”
“My….” Ginny slapped her hand against her forehead. “Didn’t you all see the flyers they put on the notice-boards?”
“Flyers?”
“There was a flyer on the Gryffindor notice-board advertising Hogwarts House Crest rings, and I know it’s a bit early for Christmas, but I was giving Harry a little hint. I thought he’d know what I was talking about!” Ginny looked caught halfway between hysterics and hysteria.
“Well, that’s a relief. I thought it was a little premature on your part,” Hermione added, giggling.
“No kidding.” Ginny rubbed her hand over her chin. “So all this time Harry’s been thinking that I want to… oy. Someday, yes, but not yet!” Hermione smiled and stirred her potion twice counterclockwise. “So,” Ginny continued slowly, “how about you and Ron?”
Hermione froze, hand perched at the end or her spoon. “What about me and Ron?”
Ginny shrugged. “I dunno, really. It just seems like the two of you have, erm, cooled off? Since term started?”
“Cooled off?” she repeated, going back to her potion.
“Er, yeah. You haven’t been especially lovey-dovey lately, and ever since Ron got that position….”
Hermione pushed a chunk of hair behind her ear and bit her lip. “I know.”
“Oh?” Ginny gently prodded.
Hermione sighed. “I guess, maybe, I’m getting a little doubtful about the endurance of our relationship.”
“How so?”
“Well, for example, lately, every time someone mentions anything about marriage or the future, I’ve been getting just a tad… anxious… in regards to Ron,” she added.
“So,” Ginny reasoned, “when I say that I do someday want to be married to Harry, you would say about Ron…?”
“That….” Hermione stopped. “Please don’t hate me for this, but I’d say that I’d rather not. I wish I did. But-”
“But you just don’t.” Ginny nodded, looking wistfully at the Amortentia potion Hermione’d started. “Perfectly normal. Hopefully it’s just a phase, though.”
“It would definitely be nice if it is.” Hermione felt herself tense, feeling someone’s eyes on her. Her first instinct was that it would be August, but Ernie Macmillan had been the only Hufflepuff in their year who’d taken Advanced Potions. The two Hufflepuffs remaining were both from Ginny’s year, and they didn’t look as if they’d been having a heartfelt chat with August that could tell Hermione whatever was being kept secret.
Which led her eyes to Malfoy. Sure enough, his chair was turned partly to the side, so he had an easy view of the back of the room as he worked on his potion. Their eyes met, but this time there was resolve written in his. He checked the clock, gave his potion three strokes with his spoon, and came over to sit on the edge of their table.
“Granger, Mini-Weasley,” he greeted, pushing a dragon scale out of his way.
“Malfoy,” Ginny responded, “what gives us the pleasure of your company, hmm?”
“Ah, it’s nice to know you have such good taste,” he said, sending Ginny a fake smile. “But I’m here in this relative privacy,” he sent a glare to the rest of the class, who literally squeaked and turned away, “to spread a little gossip. Or would it be gossip if it’s true?”
Hermione added a newt tail to her own potion, not meeting his eye. “What are you on about?”
Malfoy flashed a smirk at her, and there, for a brief second, was that hint of nervousness. “I know a secret. A secret involving one Mr. Ronald Weasley and one Miss August Moon. Care to hear it?”
Hermione blinked. “I-”
“Now don’t let that over-sized conscience of yours get in the way, Granger. I’ve only got two minutes and forty-three seconds before I need to get back to my potion, so you better make up your mind.”
Hermione glared at him. “And how am I supposed to know that you’re telling the truth, hmm?”
He winked at her, actually winked at her, and strode across the room to the supply cabinet, returning with a vile a Veritaserum. “Ol’ Candanver hasn’t learned the value of locking up his stores. Though I must say, I’d rather not have to resort to this. I mean, think of all the nasty things you could have me confess. I’d much rather just tell you.”
Hermione shook her head. “We’re not using that. We could get into serious trouble if anyone found out, and with a room full of witnesses, that’s rather likely.” She sighed. “Just tell me, would you?”
He smiled. “As you wish. Ahem, remember when I was stopped on the stairs a few weeks back and you bumped into me?”
“Yes.” How couldn’t she remember?
“Well, I’d been listening to a certain conversation, which revealed a certain truth.” His smile grew wider. “Your dear boyfriend ‘accidentally’ kissed that itsy-bitsy Hufflepuff.”
Hermione gasped and Ginny covered her mouth with her hand. “Accidentally? How does anyone accidentally kiss someone? I mean, have you seen them? They aren’t about to knock heads,” Hermione interjected.
Malfoy shook his head. “They said something about chasing after a mongoose and the Weasel tripping over his feet and landing on her. I’d call it a load of tosh. They probably did it on purpose and just don’t want to admit it.” He glanced at the clock again.
“So,” Hermione was still grappling to understand it all, “so Ron accidentally cheated on me?”
“Says Malfoy,” Ginny grumbled.
“I give you my word as someone with very good hearing. That’s what they said, or my name isn’t Draco.”
“Not like I call you that anyway,” Ginny replied, frowning.
“So I say you break up with the great lout,” Malfoy suggested, still smiling.
Hermione was half-trying to clear her head and half-trying to keep up with her potion. She nodded, and Ginny grabbed her arm. “What? No!”
Malfoy snorted. “So soon to forget what she confessed to you a few minutes ago? She hasn’t been feeling close to him lately and can’t see a future between them, and now he’s gone and cheated on her with someone who isn’t even very good-looking and lied about it as well. Go for it, Granger. I know it’d make me sleep better at night.”
“Sleep better?” Ginny demanded. “Malfoy, if you can’t sleep because you’re worried about Hermione, then it sounds like you’re in love with her.”
Malfoy rolled his eyes, though his features went slightly rigid. “I meant because I sleep in the same room as your dear brother. I’d sleep through his moans much better than through his, ‘Oh, do you think Hermione would like to go to Puddifoot’s with me and snog over a spot of tea? Do you? Do you?’” He made a face of disgust.
“You realize you actually used her name?” Ginny pointed out, looking very much annoyed.
“Only for the sake of recreating an old scenario.” He looked at Hermione, who was still biting her lip. “Well, what do you say, Granger?”
She didn’t look at him, and instead she looked at Ginny. “I don’t think I have much choice,” she said quietly, her voice a little strained. “There are just too many factors. I-” Her vision was clouding up, and Malfoy jumped off the table as she burst into tears.
“Well,” he said, looking distinctly uncomfortable. “That’s my cue to leave. Ladies.” He bowed slightly and went back to his potion.
Ginny glared at his back before turning to Hermione and offering up her shoulder, but Hermione wiped at her eyes, set her face, and continued with brewing her potion, twin streaks of salt water running down her chin. One drip nearly fell in her cauldron.
O
“Ron?” It was two in the morning, and Hermione had been waiting up in the Common Room. She’d felt so secure in her resolve up until the point when everyone else had gone to bed, and she’d been left alone with her thoughts.
Every second of that afternoon, Ginny had been at her side, trying to change her mind. When she’d asked if she loved him, Hermione hadn’t been able to answer. Of course she loved him. Ron had been one of her best friends for almost exactly seven years now.
Last year, she’d known she loved him and had waited through his idiocy for him to return to the tent. She’d been rightfully angry, of course.
On that last day, Ron had gone down into the Chamber with her, just below where she sat now, and he’d had her use a basilisk fang to destroy the locket. The locket had tested her then, made her choose between Ron and everything else she’d ever loved, including the entire Hogwarts library, and Ron had won.
Two years ago, she’d sat in the Potions classroom and inhaled a different Amortentia potion. Three scents had combined for her: cut grass, parchment, and Ron’s hair.
Of course she loved him.
She would always love Ronald Bilius Weasley. She just wasn’t sure if it was really that kind of love. She was attracted to him, but at the same time, she was a little repulsed.
He did things sometimes, these stupid, idiotic things that he just didn’t think through. Ron didn’t think, and thinking was her very definition. He’d hurt her too many times to remember, and this thing with August felt like the last domino to fall over.
“Hey,” he mumbled sleepily. Harry shuffled past him and down the stairs. “What’re you doing up?”
Hermione closed her eyes and took a deep breath. “We need to talk.”
He yawned. “Can’t it wait?”
She shook her head. “What happened between you and August?”
Ron froze mid-yawn. “What?”
“You and August. I know you’re keeping something from me. I heard… I heard that you kissed her.” Her voice dropped at the end.
“Who,” he sounded nervous, “who told you that?”
“Never mind. Just, please, tell me, Ron.”
He collapsed onto the sofa beside her. “She told you, didn’t she?” he grumbled. “Great. Just great.”
“No. So it’s true then?” Was it normal to feel relieved to know your boyfriend had cheated on you? She doubted it.
“It was an accident. I was running and I tripped and she was standing in front of me, and I just kind of pushed her over. Our lips touching was just a fluke. Trust me, I’d never hurt you,” he said, reaching out to clasp her hand.
“But you lied about it. You kept it a secret. That hurts, Ron.” Her voice was breaking. “Why did you keep it a secret?”
“I dunno!” he growled. “I panicked. I didn’t want you to think it was Lavender all over again, and I-”
“What?”
“And I felt guilty.” He shifted on the cushion, and his hand felt sweaty in her own.
“How long?”
“Huh?” he asked, distractedly playing with his sleeve.
“How long did you kiss? One second? Two? Please, Ron. Just tell me.”
He hesitated. “‘Bout a minute,” he mumbled, almost incoherently.
She felt something near her heart snap, and the tears started slipping from her eyes. “You fancy her?”
“No! I just… I dunno. We’re always fighting, and it just felt good to win for once, which probably doesn’t make sense or anything, and, ugh, I dunno.” He rubbed at his forehead. “Can we please discuss this in the morning?”
“W-why didn’t she tell me? I know about your bet. You broke the egg. Why didn’t she-”
“How should I know? We decided neither of us got that favor; maybe she called that off, too. Ugh, I’m so tired. I’m exhausted, and I got hit by two bludgers.” He pointed to a mound of purple bruising below the orange sleeves of his Quidditch robes.
“I’m sorry.” She gave his hand a squeeze before extracting her own. “I think we should go back to just being friends.”
He opened his mouth, gaping like a sleep-deprived fish. “What? Do you have any idea how long it took me to get you? Hermione-”
“Get me? Ron, you make me sound like an object.”
“You know I don’t mean….”
“I’ve been thinking about this for awhile,” she confessed, and his mouth snapped closed. “It’s not just this, okay? It’s a few things. And I, I just need to be a little selfish right now. I want to break up.”
“No!” Ron slammed his fist down on his knee before grabbing her and smashing his lips to hers. When he let go, the tears were streaming down her face again.
“I’m so sorry, Ron.” She stood and went down the spiral staircase and into the girls’ dormitory, collapsing on her bed. She didn’t fall asleep until five in the morning.
O
A.N.: Hello! So apparently I don’t like making people break up very much. It was surprisingly difficult for me to get Hermione resolved to do that. What did you think, everybody? Thank you all for the lovely reviews!
Hi and good-bye!
<< >>