Naked Heart

Angel-Wing

Rating: PG13
Genres: Drama, Romance
Relationships: Harry & Hermione
Book: Harry & Hermione, Books 1 - 5
Published: 01/02/2004
Last Updated: 06/04/2004
Status: completed

(AU) In a time of war and discrimination, the greatest love can born... But fate is cruel, and could do anything to keep them apart... A dramatic and romantic H/Hr story based on the World War II.

Chapters

1. Prologue

2. Not in France

3. Uncertainty

4. La Sante

5. Decision

6. Danger Ahead

7. On the Edge

8. A New Day

9. Wind of Change

10. Lost and Found

11. Friends that Come and Go

12. Time to Move On

13. A Twist of Fate

14. Again

15. Inevitable

16. Unchained Melodies

17. Crossroads

18. A Taste of Yesterday

19. Falling to Pieces

20. Despair

21. No Turning Back

22. Harsh Truths

23. Time to Say Goodbye

24. Can

25. The End of the Road

26. Epilogue

1. Prologue

A/N: Hello everyone! After some insistance from certain people, I decided to post this fic here (It’s been in FF.net for quite a while).

Just in case you’re wondering, I don’t own any Harry Potter characters!

The plot isn’t mine neither. This fic is based on the book “Naked Heart” by Jacqueline Briskin. Never heard of it? I don’t think it’s such a best seller, so maybe this story will be new for you after all. If you had, then expect to find some plot changes (I usually do that when I adapt a story.)

Warning: This is an AU fic. Meaning that you won’t find almost anything from the books here, just the characters (and some of them will be OC).

Hope you like it!

N A K E D H E A R T

Prologue

The Wizarding World isn’t exactly what you would call “peaceful”. In its history there are a lot of rebellions and wars.

The worst, maybe, had happened with the raise of Lord Voldemort, the most powerful and ruthless Dark Lord the world had ever seen. It had been many years of suffering for the wizards and the muggles, but all had ended suddenly seventeen years ago, when a one-year-old baby had miraculously defeated Voldemort for ever.

Wizards had thought that everything would be all right from that moment on...

They were mistaken, of course.

Two years ago, a man named Salazar Slytherin had become the Minister of Magic in England, and things weren’t the same anymore.

He had begun what he called a “cleaning”, which meant that only the pureblood wizards were allowed to use magic and be members of the WW (Wizarding World). A chase of muggle-borns had started. A lot of them were killed, or sent to Concentration Camps.

Horror had spread all over England, and Slytherin gained more and more power. Some of the wizards had started to rebel against him. Commanded by Godric Gryffindor, a nobleman, a war started between both bands.

Many wizards had flown to Paris, France, a country who had offered them security. They said that Slytherin couldn’t reach that place, and that was the main reason of why a lot of the streets downtown were crowded of muggle-born wizards and some pureblood that were against Slytherin’s doctrin.

The Weasleys, however, had chosen Daguerre, a muggle street. Arthur Weasley, head of the family, had been an important member in the previous ministry. Naturally, he was against Slytherin. His wife, Molly and his daughter Virginia lived with him. The Weasleys had six sons. One of them lived in Egypt, one in Romania, and the other four had stayed in England.

The only other wizard that lived on the street was in fact, a witch: Hermione Granger. Her parents were muggles, and had moved from London to Paris before Hermione was born. Now they were grateful for that.

The Grangers and the Weasleys were good friends, especially the two girls, Ginny and Hermione. They had met in the Beauxbatons Academy, where they had gone to learn magic. Ginny didn’t get along with the rest of the schoolgirls. So, she spent the day completely alone, even in the dining room. Hermione knew the other girls thought Ginny was conceited, snobbish and bitter. But once she had gotten to know her, she discovered that Ginny had a hidden personality inside of her, one that she only shared with Hermione. With her, Ginny was more open. They shared their secrets and their days.

However, things were starting to change. Slytherin had started to spread his ideology and there were rumors that he was even getting to France...

A/N: This was just the prologue, a background to this story. I’m posting chapter 1 right away.

I want to thank Kris for beta reading this and correcting the grammar and spelling mistakes.

2. Not in France

Chapter 1 – Not in France

November, 1998

Hermione would never forget the day she met Harry Potter.

Ginny had asked her to come over that afternoon to have tea with her. Hermione had happily accepted the invitation. The Weasleys house elf, Winky, was a great cook and she always made a delicious lemon pie, Hermione’s favourite.

“Bye mum,” she said, kissing her mother in the cheek.

“Bye dear. Be careful,” Mrs. Granger said.

“Be careful” was pretty good advice for a girl like Hermione in those days. Although Ginny just lived next door, she knew why her mother worried. In Paris, where she lived, people were starting to react to Slytherin’s nonsense about muggle-borns. Though they hadn’t reached the level of killing them or taking prisoners, as they did in England, some people feared that it would happen soon.

Hermione was a muggle-born, but she didn’t care about it. She wasn’t afraid at all. She knew that people would soon realize that it was stupid to worry about someone’s birth and ancestors, when only skills and heart should be important.

The Weasley’s home was two times bigger than hers. But then again, the Weaslyes were a wealthy family and the Grangers were far from that. She knocked on the door and Winky opened.

“Hello Winky,” she greeted, giving her the old cloak she was wearing.

“Good afternoon, miss. Please come in. Miss Ginny is in the living room with the guests,” replied Winky, before disappearing in the kitchen.

Guests? Ginny hadn’t told her anything about guests. She stared at herself in the mirror that was in the entrance. She was wearing an old wool skirt and a blue sweater. Her brown hair was bushy – as always – and she wasn’t wearing make up at all. She internally hoped that those ‘guests’ Winky had mentioned weren’t guys.

Oh, how wrong she was.

When she entered in the living room, she saw Ginny chatting with two men. Her friend looked simply stunning. Her smooth and silky red hair was tied back, and she was wearing a black dress that looked great on her. Hermione was aware that Ginny was a beautiful girl, and next to her, she looked even plainer than she already was, but she had never cared about that... until now.

“Oh Hermione, dear, you finally arrived,” said Ginny casually when she saw her standing there.

The two guys stood up immediately and turned to face her. The first thought that crossed Hermione’s mind was how different they were from each other.

The first one was tall and thin. He had blond hair and grey eyes. He was grinning and looked very nice.

Right next to him, an even taller man was standing. He had black, messy hair and behind a pair of glasses, two sparkling green eyes that right now were piercing her. His face was serious.

It took her two seconds to realize who the green-eyed guy was. Harry Potter. She knew about him, of course. He was ‘The Boy Who Lived’, the one who had defeated the Dark Lord when he was just a year old. She knew more about him thanks to Ginny though. Ron, Ginny’s brother, was Harry Potter’s best friend, and Ginny had hung out with him a lot before coming to France. Hermione had heard her talking about Harry so many times, that she felt that she almost knew him.

But she hadn’t expected that she would meet him for real.

Especially not when she was dressed with her ugly clothes.

“This is Hermione Granger, the one I told you about,” Ginny announced.

“I’m Draco Malfoy,” the blonde guy said, shaking her hand. Hermione smiled at him.

“Harry Potter,” the other said, shaking her hand as well, but he didn’t smile. He was still staring at her, and Hermione started to feel uncomfortable.

She sat on the couch next to Ginny. Why was he looking at her like that? It was rude. The fact that he was famous, rich and very handsome didn’t give him the right to gaze at her that look. The two guys sat down too.

“Butterbeer, dear?” offered Ginny. Hermione shook her head. She didn’t feel like drinking or eating anything anymore.

“You are different from what I thought you would be,” commented Draco.

Hermione arched her eyebrows. “What has Ginny been telling you?” she asked, giving a look to her friend.

“Absolutely nothing, I swear,” the redhead said, smiling. “Only good things, of course. How smart you are, a great friend, a brilliant witch, a little bossy and bookworm-”

“Hey!” Hermione said, faking anger. Draco laughed.

“You’re a muggle-born,” Harry stated.

Hermione turned to him. “I’m a witch,” she said. Was he one of those idiots who cared about pureblood?

“Your parents are muggles,” he insisted.

“So?” retorted Hermione, starting to get angry.

“Hermione, please don’t be offended,” Ginny said quickly. “Harry isn’t asking that because of what you think.”

“Then why does he ask?” she said. She didn’t give a damn that he was Harry Potter. She wasn’t going to allow him to question her witch rights.

“Because there’s a war,” Harry replied. “Because muggle-borns are being chased.”

“Yeah, in England. And as far as I know, we’re in France,” she argued.

Harry shook his head. “Slytherin is reaching France as well.”

Hermione was going to say something, but Ginny interrupted her.

“Harry, please… I haven’t seen you in a long time, so let’s not talk about serious stuff, alright? Tell me about my old friends in England.”

Reluctantly, Harry’s eyes shifted from Hermione to Ginny. They started talking about a bunch of people Hermione had never heard about. Draco nodded politely every once in a while, but she got the feeling he wasn’t very aware of whom they were talking about either.

Hermione took this chance to study Harry better. She knew he was about the same age as her, 18, but with his serious face he looked older. Ginny had told her that Harry had gone to Hogwarts School and he had graduated top of his class, same as Hermione, only from Beauxbatons. Her eyes shifted to the lightening shaped scar on his forehead that was barely visible among his hair.

Ginny had told her that Harry had a lot of success among women. Of course, he was a hero. And he was rich. She heard that he had an enormous fortune saved in Gringotts... Besides, he administrated “Weasley’s Wizard Wheezes”, the biggest and most successful joke-shop, which belonged to Ginny’s older brothers, Fred and George. But it wasn’t just that. Harry Potter was the most handsome man Hermione had ever seen, and just being in the same room that him made her nervous. That’s stupid, she thought. I don’t even know this guy.

“Hermione!! Are you listening? I’m talking to you,” Ginny said, with an annoyed voice.

“Uhm? Oh!” she realized she must have had a pretty dumb face, thinking about all that nonsense. “I’m sorry, I was just thinking,” she apologized, blushing slightly.

Ginny frowned. “Well, Harry and I were talking about my brothers, and I told him that you met them last summer.”

Harry’s eyes were on her again.

Hermione nodded absent-mindly. She remembered when Bill, Charlie, Percy, Fred, George and Ron had come to France the previous summer. They were all very nice, especially Ron, with whom she had developed some sort of friendship.

Harry opened his mouth to say something when Winky came in.

“Excuse me,” she said, walking towards Harry. “An owl came with this, directed to Mr. Harry Potter, sir. It says it’s urgent.” She gave Harry a piece of parchment.

Harry thanked her and read it quickly.

“I’m sorry, Ginny, but I must go,” he said, standing up quickly. “I’ll see you later.” He turned to Hermione. “It was nice to meet you, Hermione.” He was about to leave, but he turned to face her again. “What I told you is true,” he said. “You should leave France.”

“Leave France? But I... ”

“The war is coming closer,” he cut her off.

“Thanks for the advice,” said Hermione a little coldly.

Harry gave her another piercing stare, then put his cloak on and walked towards the door.

“I should go too,” said Draco, standing up as well. Hermione had almost forgot he was there. “It was great to meet such lovely ladies,” he said, winking and following Harry.

Ginny followed them and returned a couple of minutes later. “That’s typical of Harry,” she commented sighing when she came back. “Just when things are getting fun, he always has something else to do.”

Hermione was still thinking about Harry’s warning, but she didn’t want to look like a worrywart, so she chose not to mention anything to Ginny about it.

“So?” said the redhead, offering her a cup of tea. Hermione knew she was asking her for her opinion on the guys.

“Did you know they were coming when you asked me to come over?” she asked, frowning slightly.

“Well, I had no idea about Draco Malfoy’s existence until now,” Ginny said, waving her hand.

“And Harry?” Ginny shrugged. “Well, thank you very much for telling me. At least I was able to come with my best outfit,” Hermione said sarcastically.

“Dear,” said Ginny seriously. “You don’t need to wear fancy clothes or any make up to look gorgeous. You have a natural beauty that lights up the room wherever you are.”

Hermione made a face. “What?” she laughed. “Ginny, where did you come up with such a... description?”

“I didn’t come up with it, it was my mum,” Ginny said. “And I think that Draco Malfoy agrees,” she added casually.

“Whatever,” said Hermione rolling her eyes.

“I told Harry he shouldn’t have been so rude with you,” said Ginny, taking a sip of her tea. Hermione got the feeling she was apologizing for him.

“Well, what does he care about where I live?” snapped Hermione, surprising herself with her reaction.

“That’s what I told him. But that’s him… he’s always trying to save everyone in this world.”

* * *

Hermione worked in a muggle store. She wanted to go to college, but her parents were having serious economic problems and she wanted to help. She had sent her resume to the Ministry of Magic in France, but she hadn’t received any replies. She had the feeling it had something to do with the fact of being a muggle-born, but she tried to dismiss the idea. It had been only a couple of months since she had left school anyway, so why worry so much?

She was closing the store when she saw Ginny coming towards her, wrapped in her purple cloak to warm herself. It was a very cold day, indeed.

“Hi, Gin,” greeted Hermione. “What are you doing here?”

“I was in the neighborhood,” replied Ginny with a smile. “I was visiting Harry. He’s staying at the Pyramide Hotel.”

They started walking towards Daguerre, talking about different things. Ginny’s favorite subject seemed to be Harry Potter, and Hermione started teasing her.

“He’s like a brother to me,” Ginny argued.

When they reached Hermione’s house, an old lady was waiting outside. They recognized her as Mrs. Figg, a woman that lived a few houses from the Grangers. She was very fond of Hermione.

“Hello, Mrs.Figg,” Hermione said.

“Oh dear, thank God you’re here!” the old woman exclaimed. “Your mother... They took her!”

“What? Who?”

“I don’t know! Two men, dressed with weird clothes... Some sort of robes,” Hermione and Ginny exchanged a worried look.

“Where did they take her?” Hermione asked, with anxiety.

“They said something about a Ministry... I’m not sure. I told your father as well and it seems he went there, but he hasn’t come back.”

There was only one ‘Ministry’ with people who wore robes. Hermione thanked Mrs. Figg and started running in the opposite direction. Ginny followed her.

“You’re not planning on going there, are you?” she asked.

“Of course I am! I don’t understand, Gin. Why would the Ministry of Magic come to my house and take my mother there?”

“Who knows? Maybe they just wanted to ask her... ummm, something.”

“But what? Wizards don’t relate with common muggles, do they?” Hermione reasoned.

“But Hermione, I don’t think it’s a good idea for you to go there. Let’s go back home. I’ll call my dad and he’ll do something.”

Ginny’s idea sounded pretty reasonable, but Hermione was too worried to pay any attention to it. Her mind was aching with questions and Harry’s words kept coming into her head. What if this has something to do with the blood cleaning stuff?

“OK,” said Ginny, stopping her. “If we’re going there, at least we could apparate to save time, don’t you think?”

* * *

The wizard who received her was the scariest man Hermione had ever seen. He had told Ginny that she was to wait outside.

“Your name is Granger?” he asked, checking her identification.

“Yes,” Hermione replied, trying to keep her voice steady. “I was told that my mother was here.”

The wizard didn’t say anything. He studied the girl with his cold eyes and after a while he smirked.

“Give me your wand,” he said.

“My wand? What for?” Hermione said, grabbing protectively her wand, which was in her pocket.

“Internal security,” the wizard said. Hermione hesitated. “Look, girl, if you want to see your parents, you have to follow my instructions.”

She gave him her wand. The wizard stood up and for a moment Hermione thought he was going to lead her to where her mother was. But instead the man took her wand and broke it in a half, just in front of her eyes.

“Why did you do that?!” Hermione exclaimed, shocked and furious.

“Muggles shouldn’t have something that belongs to wizards.”

“I’m a witch!”

“You’re a mudblood. Now get out of here if you don’t want to be put behind bars.”

Hermione could hardly believe what she was hearing.

“You bastard,” she muttered. “Where’s my mother?”

“Not here, obviously. Muggles have nothing to do in this place.” The wizard glared at her menacingly. “Get out.”

* * *

Ginny was shocked when she heard what had happened to her friend. She started insulting the ‘filthy pigs’ and threatening to tell her father. But Hermione was too worried to discuss the event. When she arrived home, her parents still weren’t back. In fact, they didn’t show up until the next morning.

“Mum! Dad! What happened?!” she yelled when they appeared in the front door. She had spent the whole night sitting in the living room, staring at the door.

“We’re fine, honey,” her dad said. He was a little pale, but he seemed unharmed.

“Where have you been?” Hermione asked. Her parents exchanged a look. “I know some wizards from the Ministry came here.”

“Oh, they just wanted to interrogate me,” Mrs. Granger said, casually. “Nothing serious.”

“Nothing serious? Mum, they had you there all night! Besides, why should wizards want to interrogate you?”

“They’re doing it with all the muggle-born... Is that how you call them? Well, with every muggle-born’s parents. We took a lot of time because there were a lot of people being interrogated.”

Hermione felt a pang of fear.

“Why?” she asked with a tiny voice.

“Routine, they said. Security, who knows? The important thing is that we’re fine, nothing happened. Now hurry up dear, you’re going to be late for work.”

Hermione would have preferred to stay home and kept asking questions, but it was obvious that her parents didn’t want to talk. She avoided mentioning what had happened in the Ministry. Now that she didn’t have her wand, she felt completely defenseless. She would have to buy another one.

Before going to work, she decided to go to the Weasley’s to inform them that her parents had arrived. They had worried a lot and Mr. Weasley had promised he would do whatever he could to find them. He hadn’t commented anything when Ginny told him about Hermione’s wand, but she had the feeling that the news had disturbed him a lot.

Nobody answered to the door. That’s strange, she thought. Even if they were all out, Winky should be there. She knocked a few more times, but no one came. It was getting late, so she ran to the store, thinking that maybe they had had something to do and Winky had taken the day off.

But when she came back that afternoon and found out that the house was still empty, she started worrying. She spoke to her parents about it, but they told her that she was making a fuss about something unimportant. “Maybe they went on vacation or something,” said Mr. Granger, in an indifferent way, which was completely out of character.

But Hermione knew Ginny would never leave without letting her know. No, something had happened to the Weasleys. Her intuition told her so. She had to do something.

Harry. He was an important wizard and very close to the Weasleys. Maybe he would know something. She would have to go to the Hotel where he was staying and ask him.

3. Uncertainty

Chapter 2 – Uncertainty

The next day there still wasn’t any sign of the Weasleys, and what disturbed her most was that nobody seemed to care. She understood that the neighbors wouldn’t, since they didn’t really have any relation with the wizard family, but her parents’ attitude had shocked her. They didn’t care about the Weasley’s whereabouts and they even got angry when Hermione kept talking about them. That made her furious... At least Mr. Weasley had tried to find them when they were missing!

How she wished to have her wand! She could have easily opened the front door and checked the Weasley home. But since she didn’t, she would have to do it the muggle way. So instead of going to work, she called her boss and said she was sick and went to the Weasley’s house. The place, always so full of life, was completely... dead. She firmly grabbed the rock in her hand and shuddered. What if a burglar or something had attacked them? But that couldn’t be. She knew Mr. Weasley had put a lot of wards in his house and no common burglar could enter.

Be strong Hermione, she told herself. She broke the small window that was next to the back door, and with some difficulty she opened the lock. Luckily, Mr. Weasley had used a recognition spell, so if Hermione entered in the house in that way, the house would ‘acknowledge her.’

It was, indeed, empty. No one was there and she was surprised to found that the beds weren’t made. That meant that they had spent the night there... Had they left during the night or very early in the morning? Nothing seemed out of place. Hermione’s eyes shifted to look for the clock they had on the wall above the fireplace, the one that showed where the family members were.

It wasn’t there.

* * *

When she entered the Pyramide Hotel, the first thing she noticed was that it was crowded with people. She spotted a lot of people talking in English and not a single one in French. She approached the wizard at the reception desk, who looked at her from up above.

“Excuse me, sir,” Hermione asked, trying to avoid the man’s eyes and remembering what had happened in the Ministry. “I need to see Mr. Harry Potter.”

The man took a while before answering. “Not here,” he said dryly.

Damn. Suddenly, she realized that Harry could well have left Paris. She didn’t even know what he was doing there...

“And Draco Malfoy?” she asked, thinking that if he was there, he could help her find Harry.

The wizard shook his head “He went out... Probably shagging some girl,” he said, laughing.

Hermione gave him a disgusted look. She was about to ask something else when she spotted a tall man entering. She recognized the dark hair. It was Harry. He noticed her and stared at her for a while, obviously surprised.

“Hermione?”

She hadn’t been sure that he would remember her.

“Hi, Harry,” she said shyly.

“What... What are you doing here?”

“She was looking for you, Potter. Or Malfoy. The lady doesn’t have preferences,” the wizard in the reception said, winking.

Harry frowned.

“Come on,” he said to Hermione. “Let’s go to somewhere where we can talk... in private.”

* * *

“I can’t stand that man,” Harry said when they were outside. He turned to her. “You look worried.” He frowned again and Hermione stopped walking. “What’s wrong?”

“I’m sorry to disturb you, Harry,” she said, and her voice sounded awfully formal, as if she was talking to some high authority. “But I didn’t know what to do... It’s about the Weasleys.”

Harry’s face went pale and he grabbed her arm.

“What happened?”

“The house... It’s empty,” she said, feeling the pressure of his fingers sinking into her arm.

“What do you mean ‘it’s empty’?” he asked, his eyes sparkling.

“I mean that there’s no one inside,” Hermione said, letting her arm go of Harry’s grip.

Harry seemed to realize what he had done, but he didn’t apologize. “Did you enter their house?”

“Yes,” she said, a little impatiently. “And it was empty. The beds weren’t made, but everything seemed in its place... Except for the clock, the one that...”

“I know which one,” he cut her off, rubbing his forehead. “Since when?”

“They weren’t there yesterday. I went looking for Ginny in the morning, and no one answered the door... What could have happened, Harry?”

Harry didn’t answer and started walking. Hermione followed him, but it wasn’t easy since he was walking really fast. He was deep in thought and Hermione didn’t know if he was even aware that she was still with him.

Finally, they arrived at a small park. There were some children running and a couple of women, probably their mothers, chatting in the benches. Hermione realized immediately that there weren’t any wizards or witches.

“Listen,” Harry said, stopping abruptly and turning to face Hermione. “France is not a safe place anymore. I told you this the other day... Muggle-borns and those who protect them are being chased,” he spoke fast and quietly. Hermione looked down. “I know you didn’t believe me then and probably you still don’t, but...”

“I do believe you,” she said. How could she not; after what happened in the Ministry? Harry gave her a questioning look and she told her about what had happened with her parents and her wand.

Harry shook his head sadly. “I don’t understand these people.”

“Do you think that the war has something to do with the Weasley’s disappearance?” Harry didn’t answer and she took it as a ‘yes’. “But they’re purebloods.”

“Arthur Weasley is a declared Slytherin adversary... He’s part of Godric Gryffindor’s inner circle... But no one is supposed to know that. There’s no way the Ministry could have found out.”

This didn’t surprise Hermione. She had always suspected that Mr. Weasley was connected with what was happening in England. “Maybe they ran away,” she suggested.

“A Weasley? Never. I know each one of them… They would all give their lives for a cause.”

“Then they must have been taken for an interrogation...”

“But the whole family?” said Harry, shaking his head. “That’s not normal. Unless...” he trailed off.

Hermione bit her tongue to stop from asking ‘unless what?’ Harry had told her in great confidence about Mr. Wealey’s relation to Gryffindor, but she knew she shouldn’t push her luck. What if he got angry and told her to mind her own business? “And if they were taken?”

“I hope they’re as far away as they can be from those Ministry bastards,” Harry said, darkly.

“Could you release them?” she asked

“How? Paying a guaranty?” he said sarcastically.

Hermione blushed. “I’m not that stupid. You’re an important man, aren’t you?”

Harry started walking again, and put his hands in his pockets. Hermione wondered if he was upset. She followed him for a couple of blocks, and none of them said anything. She wasn’t sure why she was going with him anyway. She had given the message... But she was expecting an answer. Or at least, a comforting word.

“I’ll find out what happened to them,” Harry said, suddenly.

“How?” she asked, and scolded herself for being so bloody curious.

Harry sighed. “I’m going to ask General Krum.”

Krum? The name was oddly familiar to her... And then she remembered. Krum was an important member of the England Ministry. She had read about him once in a Daily Prophet that Mr. Weasley had brought home from one of his travels to London.

“But isn’t he on… the other side?” she asked, confused.

“He’s a good man,” Harry stated.

“A good man?! I don’t see how someone related to Slytherin could be a good man,” she exclaimed, quite upset.

Harry blinked. “I know he respects Arthur. He’ll help.”

“I’m sure of it... I mean, which racist pig wouldn’t?” she snapped. Why was she being so unpleasant with him? Maybe she just wanted to get revenge for his ironic comment about the guaranty.

Harry stared at her for a second. She tried to read the expression in his face... There was a mixture of surprise, amusement, fear and... guilt?

“I really need a cup of coffee,” Harry said. “Would you like one?”

Hermione realized they had walked in a small cafeteria. It was really warm inside and the smell of coffee and croissants was inviting. She nodded and Harry led her to a table in the corner, where he ordered coffee and croissants.

The silence that followed turned uncomfortable. Hermione was a talkative girl and she hated not knowing what to say. She had never met anyone who had the effect on her that Harry was having.

“Uhm... I’m sorry about earlier. I was so rude, and you just were making a suggestion,” she said.

“You’re worried... I am too. Let’s make a truce for now.”

Curious how a joke without a smile can sound so formal, Hermione thought.

“So... I know you graduated from Beauxbatons a couple of months ago,” he added, obviously trying to start up some conversation.

She told him about her work in the muggle store, and he talked a bit about the joke shop. However, Hermione soon understood that Harry Potter hardly ever talked about himself, and she didn’t push him to talk either.

“It’s getting late,” Harry said about an hour later. “You should go home.” He asked for the check, but the owner said it was on the house. Harry nodded and thanked him as if that was a regular thing for him.

“How nice of him,” commented Hermione when they went out of the cafeteria. “But then again, I’m sure that famous Harry Potter can get free attention wherever he goes.”

“Hermione,” said Harry, slowing his pace, “don’t say that.”

“What?”

“The ‘famous’ thing.”

“Oh.” She felt stupid. “I meant it as a compliment.”

He sighed. I guess it must be hard for him, she thought, looking at his troubled features.

“You don’t have your wand… so you can’t apparate back home,” Harry said after a long pause.

“It’s alright, I’ll just walk.”

“I’ll go with you.” She was about to argue, but he cut her off immediately. “It’s not safe for you to be in the streets by yourself... especially if you’re wandless.”

Hermione remembered what Ginny had said about Harry’s obsession to protect everyone. Thinking about Ginny made her feel sad and worried. She had lightened up a bit talking with Harry, but now walking in the cold streets in complete silence, the feelings had come back stronger than before.

Harry was deep in thought again and she didn’t disturb him. He had been kind enough to invite her for a cup of coffee and to walk her home. Of course, she knew he was doing it just because he was Ginny’s best friend.

Soon they were in Daguerre Street. Harry stopped in front of the Weasley’s house and Hermione saw his eyebrows furrowing.

“Well... Goodbye,” she said.

“Thank you, Hermione.”

“What for?” she asked. There was something special about the way he pronounced her name... It made her feel weird.

“For letting me know about this. I promise that as soon as I find out something, I’ll tell you.”

“That would be great... But please, don’t come to my house.” She realized that sounded rude, and she felt the need to explain. “My parents... They wouldn’t like the fact that I’m looking for the Weasleys. They think it’s dangerous.”

Harry nodded. “They’re right. Listen, I don’t want you to risk yourself, OK? Just leave this to me.” He was about to leave when he turned around. “And you really should discuss with your parents on the possibility of leaving France.”

“But where could we go?” Hermione asked. She had been thinking about it the whole day.

Harry lowered the tone of his voice. “To the United States... Gryffindor’s people are helping refugees escape from Europe. A lot of portkeys are been set up in Spain.”

He made it sound so easy... But Hermione knew it was going to be hard to convince her parents to go to Spain and take a portkey to move to the United States. But she was going to try...

* * *

“Dear, there’s no reason for us to run away,” said Mrs. Granger stubbornly. Hermione had decided mentioning the idea of leaving France, and just as she had suspected, her parents were finding a million of objections.

“Mum, it’s dangerous. For me and for you,” she said.

“No, it’s not. We’re in good terms with the Ministry of Magic. Trust me, they won’t hurt you,” said Mr. Granger. Ever since he and his wife had come back from that ‘interrogation,’ he had been extremely calm about the events occurring in the Wizarding world, something that had never happened before.

Hermione sighed. She had tried telling them what had happened when she had gone to the Ministry, but they had assured her that it wouldn’t happen again. “You can buy another wand,” suggested Mrs. Granger. What she didn’t know was that Hermione had tried that already, but in the store they had refused to sell her one. Her parent’s behavior was disturbing her. They were being too hardheaded.

She couldn’t sleep at night. All she did was wonder about Ginny’s whereabouts. The only explanation she could think of was that somehow Slytherin found out about Mr. Weasley’s connection to Gryffindor...

Finally, four days after Harry and Hermione’s meeting, some news came.

Hermione was closing the store when she heard someone calling her name. She turned around and found Draco Malfoy grinning at her.

“Hi, do you remember me?” he said, grabbing her umbrella and opening it for her. Hermione nodded and smiled. “Good. I’ve been waiting for you to came out; I didn’t want to enter in that muggle place.”

“Why were you waiting for me?” she asked, intrigued.

“I’m a messenger. I have some news to deliver from a mutual friend.”

Hermione’s eyes lighted up. “From Ginny?”

“From Harry Potter,” replied Draco. “He asked me to tell you that he would’ve come himself, but he had some business... I didn’t really get what he had to do...”

Of course, thought Hermione. Why would such an important man as Harry Potter go out of his way and bother himself to inform some poor muggle-born witch?

“What’s the message?” she asked, suddenly upset, although she couldn’t understand why.

“He said: ‘The General thinks he might have a clue’.”

“That’s it?”

“Yeah, and he made me repeat it five times. Does it make sense to you?”

She nodded. She got the impression that Draco was waiting an explanation, but she wasn’t going to give him one. So, that was it; ‘The General thinks he might have a clue.’ He wasn’t even sure he might have a clue. Surely, Harry could have made an effort to find out more.

“You know, Harry ordered me that no one should see us talking. He told me that if I dared to approach your house, he was going to hex me until I had no memory of myself. Pretty rude, huh?”

“Thanks,” said Hermione, and started walking.

“You could be a little more enthusiastic,” he said, grinning.

She stopped and looked at him. “I appreciate what you have done. I’ll never forget it.”

“That’s better,” he said. And before she could guess his intentions, he kissed her in the cheek and disapparated.

Hermione touched her cheek, having the sudden desire for it have been Harry, and not Draco, the one who kissed her.

You’re being stupid, she thought sadly.

* * *

A/N: Once again, thanks to Kris for the beta reading. As I said in the prologue, this story is based on the book “Naked Heart” by Jacqueline Briskin. I found that book in a street stand in Viña del Mar. The spanish translation is not very good, but I really liked the story, and decided to adapt it in this fic.

4. La Sante

A/N: Here’s the thrid chapter of the story. It’s short, but it will reveal where are the Weasleys. There could be some ‘disturbing’ parts here, but they are necessary to the plot.

I want to thank Heaven for approving the submission of this story to Portkey, if it hadn’t been for her, I would have never made up my mind. Also to Pen, for her support and good ideas and to Kris, for Beta reading for me, again.

Chapter 3 – La Santé

La Santé used to be a prison where the Government of France sent the most dangerous criminals. Years ago, it had been bought by some mysterious man that had kept it abandoned for a long time.

Now, it was a place where the enemies of Salazar Slytherin were sent. Among the ‘enemies’ were many people loyal to Godric Gryffindor. Some of them had even tried to murder Slytherin. The truth was, it was a horrible place. People were tortured and killed in the worst ways you could imagine, and there were never trials. The prison was lead by the FOS (Friends Of Slytherin), a feared organization that was devoted to follow every single person who would dare oppose to Slytherin doctrines.

And Ginny Weasley couldn’t understand why she was there.

It had been almost six days since the FOS agents had broken into her house and obliged her and her parents to abandon it and then took them to the prison. She had been put in a dirty room along with two other witches who were way older than her, and it was for that reason they kept fighting every second about everything.

She hadn’t been able to see her parents… She didn’t know where they were. A lot of theories about her current situation had swarmed into her mind as more days kept coming. They weren’t there for being muggle-borns, that was for sure. So maybe the FOS thought that her father was involved in some sort of anti-Slytherin activities. But how could he? He was the most pacific man that existed.

This is a mistake, she kept repeating.

She was still wearing her pijamas. She was hungry, scared, dirty and above all, confused. Extremely confused.

“You, the red-headed,” said a tall wizard as he entered the room and stared at her with an expression of disgust. He made her stand up from the bed where she was laying and forced her to walk towards another room. He pushed her roughly and she fell on her knees.

Her father was there. Or at least it seemed like her father. The only recognizable part of his face was the red hair that was left in his almost bald head. She saw that his face was full of bruises and blood. At first, Ginny thought he was dead. His head was hanging over his shoulder and his eyes were closed. But then, and after what it seemed a huge effort from his part, he lifted and looked at her. And he smiled… The same warm, soothing smile that he always gave her.

“Daddy!” Ginny sobbed and ran towards him. But she was stopped half way by two wizards she hadn’t even noticed. “You bastards! Why are you doing this?” she screamed, forgetting all about precaution.

A fat, dark haired wizard entered in the room. He sent a sharp look toward Ginny and motioned towards a door on the corner that led to a tiny room. They sat her on a metal chair.

“Miss Weasley,” the fat man said, sitting in front of her “I’m Adelbert Goyle.”

Ginny let out a sarcastic laugh at the politeness of the man. He ignored it and kept talking.

“Do you know why you are here?” he asked.

“Let me guess... I don’t know, maybe because I have a red coat?”

Goyle snorted. “Have you heard anything about the attack on the English Minister of Magic in this city two weeks ago?”

Ginny didn’t answer immediately. She had heard her father and Harry talking about it. Something about a trap to kill Slytherin when he came to France for a diplomatic visit. It had turned the FOS head over heels, and they were desperately looking for the perpetrator.

“Are you talking about that accident our Holy Minister suffered?” she asked, carefully not showing she was feeling uneasy.

Goyle stared at her. “It wasn’t an accident... It was an attempt of murder to Lord Slytherin.”

“Oh,” she said. “Who would’ve guessed that someone would want to kill such a lovely man.”

“Being sarcastic won’t help you, lady,” Goyle said.

“Well, what do you want me to say about it? Yes, I read about it in the newspapers. And no, I have nothing to do with it.”

A deep silence followed her statement. Goyle’s eyes never left her and she shifted uncomfortably in her seat.

“We have whitnesses who assure they saw your father near the... crime scene.”

“I thought this was a free country,” Ginny said, sharply. “I’m sure he can go wherever he wants.”

However, something was building in her mind. Could it be that her father...?

“He was seen just before the attack,” Goyle pointed.

“Come on, Mr. Goyle... You surely don’t think that my dad has the hobby of killing politics.”

“The problem we have, and you too, is that your father refuses to give us the name of his partners in crime,” Goyle continued as if he hadn’t heard.

“What do you expect him to tell you if he has nothing to do with it?” Ginny insisted.

“General Pettigrew has taken personal interest in this case.” Ginny shuddered. Pettigrew was known for being one of Slytherin’s most saddistic friends. “And he happens to think that you and your mother have something to do with this... event.” She forced herself to keep her face straight. “I personally doubt it, and I would be delighted to share my opinion with the General if your father decides to confess who helped him.”

Ginny let out a dark laugh. “You obviously don’t know my father. If all the tortures and the beating up didn’t make him lose his tongue, what makes you think that I can convince him? That, of course, if what you’re saying is true, which I doubt.”

“You have half an hour,” Goyle said, standing up, “to convince him. If not, you and your mother will spend a lot of time here.”

* * *

In the half hour that they spent together, Ginny didn’t mention anything about Slytherin. They talked about trivial things. Ginny tried to lighten the mood with a couple of comments, but she knew her father was blaming himself for her presence there. And it was then she knew that what Goyle had said was true. Her father had tried to kill Slytherin. But instead of being shocked, she was prideful. Arthur Weasley was a man of honor.

The lack of cooperation though, didn’t thrill Goyle and the rest of the FOS members. They started treating Ginny as bad as any other prisoner. Soon she was on the list of raped women in the place. And everyday, she faced her attackers with a straight face and her chin lifted. She wasn’t going to surrender to anyone.

* * *

A couple of days later, Ginny was given a few minutes with her parents... Or what was left of them. Compared with their state, she was safe and sound. Her mother hardly breathed and his father couldn’t stand up.

She didn’t cry. She had to keep the honor of the family. It was the only thing left.

“Gin,” her father muttered and she approached to him. It hurt her to look at him. “Promise me something.”

“Anything,” she said, softly.

“Promise me that you’ll never feel embarrassed about what has happened to you here.”

“I’ll kill them some day,” she said, with determination.

Arthur Weasley didn’t reply and took a deep breath.

“Dad?” Ginny didn’t want to ask, but she had to. She had been thinking about it for too long. “Is it true… that they have a witness?”

“Of what?” he said and Ginny understood he was doing it because the FOS agents could be hearing behind their conversation. She was about to give up when he grabbed her wrist. “Someone... Someone that holds a grudge against me invented that accusation.”

“You really think that? You really think that someone accused you?”

Arthur nodded. “There’s no other explanation. They knew too many details about my life,” he sighed. “Whoever it was… that’s my real enemy.”

“Not Slytherin? Not the FOS?” Ginny asked quietly.

“Them too. But this was something personal. There’s nothing lower that betraying a friend.”

“He or she should suffer as much as you have,” Ginny said, with a tone of hate in her voice she didn’t know she could use. Mr. Weasley remained silent. “And his or her family too,” Ginny added. “Just like ours.”

“Ginny...” Arthur muttered, and his voice went out.

A wizard entered the room to take Ginny to her cell. Before she disappeared through the door, she turned to face her father once more.

“Dad... As long as I live, the traitor’s family will suffer. I swear it, on the Weasley’s pride.”

And those were the last words she ever said to him.

* * *

5. Decision

A/N: Thank you very much for the reviews. And special thanks to lucky charms for her wonderful Beta-Reading.

Chapter 4 – Decision

Almost three weeks had passed since Hermione had received news from Harry, through Draco... If you could call that news. She was starting to get more and more desperate. Every night she had terrible nightmares concerning Ginny. She was almost thinking that Harry had completely forgotten he had promised to keep her informed.

After trying to convince her parents every day that they should leave France as soon as possible, they were starting to consider the possibility. Mr. Granger was concerned about his job, Mrs. Granger about where could they live in North America, and Hermione was troubled about how the hell they were going to get out of France
without being arrested by the Ministry of Magic. They had recently ordered that no wizard – pureblood or muggle-born – could leave the country. Hermione had little contact with the Wizarding World those days. Without the Weasleys and surrounded only by muggles, she was starting to forget what it felt to use magic.

That, of course, meant that she didn’t really know what was going on with the muggle-borns like her.

To make it all worse, her mother had become ill. The doctor diagnosed pneumonia. She had been in bed for a week now. Hermione had asked permission in the store to take care of her. Mr. Granger was extremely nervous, because the medicine the doctor had prescribed was very expensive.

Three days ago, on her way to the drugstore, she had bumped into Draco Malfoy. Actually, he had bumped into her, and Hermione soon realized he had been waiting for her to come out of the house.

“What? More news from Mr. Potter?” she had asked, internally hoping that that was the case.

“Not exactly. Harry is back in England,” Draco replied.

“Oh,” she tried to hide her disappointment by busying herself with the tightening of the scarf around her neck.

“Take these,” Draco said and handed her three train tickets.

“What’s this?”

“A gift,” Draco stated simply. Hermione stared at him dumbfounded and he laughed. “It’s your chance to get out of here,” he lowered his voice, until it became a whisper. “Gryffindor sent a special train for the muggle-borns that want to leave France. Of course, they have disguised it as a normal muggle train, to avoid suspicion. You and your parents should take it. You have to be in the Central Station, this Friday at 4 pm.”

He had disapparated before she had the chance to ask how he had gotten the tickets, although she had a slight idea.

* * *

Of course, with Mrs. Granger’s illness, the idea of leaving was impossible. The doctor had said that any change of temperature could complicate things. To Hermione, the most important thing was her mother’s health, so she had decided to miss the chance of leaving if her parents couldn’t go with her.

That Friday afternoon, Mr. Granger had taken an extra turn at work, and Mrs. Granger had fallen asleep while Hermione made bread in the kitchen. She was wearing an old cooking apron and her hair was up in a messy ponytail. She was so focused working that she didn’t hear the bell until it rang for the third time.

She ran towards the door, wiping her hands on the apron. The wooden spoon she had in her hand fell to the floor when she saw who had been knocking on the door.

“I was starting to think that you had left France,” said Harry, staring at her seriously. He looked angry. “I thought I had missed you at the Station.”

Hermione was so surprised to see him there, that the only thing she could say was, “Draco told me you were in England.”

“I came back,” he said. His hair was wet with rain. “Why weren’t you at the Station? I’ve just said goodbye to Draco, who left on the first one. I looked for you all over the train and you weren’t there.”

“I couldn’t go,” she said, tearing her eyes away from his gaze.

Harry was going to say something when he spotted two women walking in the street. “We should talk inside,” he said, and came into the house, closing the door behind him.

Still a little perplexed, Hermione led him to the living room and sat down on the couch. She motioned for him to do the same, but he shook his head.

“There’s no time to sit down, Hermione,” he said, grabbing her arm. “We have to leave now. There’s another train coming in less than an hour. I brought a muggle car.”

A muggle car? Harry sure had gone through a lot of trouble to help her and her family. But why?

“We are not leaving,” she said, sighing.

“What? Jesus, Hermione! I thought you had realized that you’re in danger here! I’m sure that your parents agree,” he spoke loudly.

“My mom is sick, Harry, she has pneumonia.”

“Then she’ll have to bring an extra coat,” he stated calmly, but it was obviously evident he was angry.

“She can’t leave the house,” she argued with a tiny voice.

Harry ran a hand through his hair. “Let me speak to your father,” he said.

“That’s another reason why we can’t leave. He’s at work.”

“I’ll go and get him, you and your mother start packing.”

Hermione walked towards the window. “Are you deaf? I told you we can’t leave with my mom sick!” Harry frowned. “I thank you for your concern anyway, Harry.”

Harry remained silent, staring at her, with a mixture of disbelief and surprise. Hermione, once again, realized how piercing his green eyes were. They were wntrancing-sort of... magnetic. She had to say something to break that horrible silence.

“Draco gave me your message,” she said. She made a pause when she saw his mouth becoming tense. “Has Krum found out anything else?” she asked, with fear. Harry finally broke the eye contact to the relief of Hermione, and started pacing through the room “Harry? Where are they?”

“In La Santé,” he said slowly.

“W-what?” Hermione sat down again. Her best friend, in that horrible place? Why? She couldn’t understand... Just imagining Ginny and her parents with those monsters gave her the creeps. She wanted to cry, but she was determined not to do it in front of Harry.

“Hermione,” Harry said, after a few minutes of deep silence. “We have to go now. This is your last chance.”

“Forget it Harry, I already told you...”

“Don’t you understand, dammit?!” he blurted out, not caring that he had completely interrupted her. “You have to take that train!”

Hermione felt the anger building inside of her. Even though Harry had taken all that trouble for them, and despite the fact that she knew he was being pushy for a good reason, he was no one to talk to her like that.

“Listen,” she spoke firmly, standing up and staring straight into his captivating green orbs, “I am not one of your servants. You can’t give me orders. I thank you deeply for all you have done for us, but I’ve said my last word,” she took a deep breath. “You should leave now or the train will depart without you.”

Harry stared at her with his green eyes. Hermione felt uneasy, but she didn’t look away.

“Fine,” he said, walking towards the door. His voice sounded like a growl. “I guess this is goodbye then. I hope you won’t regret this.” He slammed the door behind him.

Hermione kept looking at the closed door, feeling sad and depressed. Was it because of Ginny or because of her argument with Harry? Come on, he’s not even your friend, she thought. He was just a good samaritan who had offered help... And she had refused it with utter discourtesy...

“Hermione? Who was it?” she heard her mother asking wearily from the bedroom.

“Just a salesman, mum.”

* * *

About a month later, things were pretty much the same in the Granger’s home. Mrs. Granger was healthier, although not completely recovered. Hermione hadn’t had a clue about what was going on in the Wizarding World. She was slightly amazed that nothing had happened to her yet. Even though muggles didn’t realize what was going on, she was sure that Slytherin doctrins had taken over France by then.

She was also eagerly expecting Ginny’s appearance. She was sure they had set her free... It was obvious she hadn’t done everything wrong. Her parents had suggested the idea that her friend could be dead, but Hermione refused to believe it.

She often thought about Harry and the scolded herself for doing it. What was so special about him anyway?

That afternoon, she was reading in her bedroom when a gentle knock revealed her mother’s presence.

“Honey, a girl named Fleur Delacour is here to see you.”

“Fleur Delacour?” Hermione asked, confused.

“Yes. She said she attended to Beauxbatons with you.” Mrs. Granger eyed her daughter suspiciously. She didn’t show it, but she was concerned about what could happen to her for being a muggle-born, and Hermione knew it. “Should I tell her to leave?”

Hermione thought for a second. She didn’t know any Fleur Delacour from school, or from anywhere for that matter. But something was telling her that this was important. Maybe that Fleur was a messenger. She walked towards the living room, followed closely by her mother. A tall girl, at least three years older than her was standing there. She was very beautiful, with long silver hair and very white skin. Hermione hugged the stranger as if she was a long time friend.

“Fleur, it’s so great to see you,” she said. “Come to my bedroom, it’s warmer there, and we’ll be able to talk.” She grabbed Fleur’s hand and led her to her room. She shut the door behind her and turned to face the tall girl. “Ok, who are you?” she whispered.

“What a lovely bedroom,” Fleur said loudly, and then spoke in a whisper too. “You have to be at the Edgar Quinet Boulevard, near the cemetery’s gate at three thirty. You’ll meet a friend there.”

Hermione’s eyes lit up. “It’s Ginny, isn’t it?”

Fleur didn’t answer and smiled slightly.

* * *

At 3 and a half p.m, Hermione Granger was walking slowly through the Edgar Quinet Boulevard, with her eyes fixed in the Cemetery’s gate. There were some people there, but definitely not anyone with red head: two old ladies feeding the pigeons, a tall man wearing one of those American letterman’s jacket and a baseball hat, and a middle aged man looking at his watch impatiently. Hermione approached towards the gate. The tall male with the baseball hat approached a little and she recognized him immediately.

“Har...” she started but he made a sign towards her, and she shut up.

“Hey baby,” he said and she was surprised to notice an American accent in his voice. “I thought you’d never come,” he said in a loud voice. Hermione couldn’t answer. She was too surprised to see him again. Harry offered his arm and she took it clumsily. They started walking and entered in the cemetery.

“Fleur Delacour, or whatever her name is, said that I was going to meet a friend and I thought it was Ginny,” Hermione said when she was sure no one could heard them.

Harry stopped walking. “Ginny? They set her free?” he asked with anxiety.

“I don’t know.”

“When have you had any news of her? Do you know something about Arthur or Molly?” Harry asked and Hermione noticed the urgency in his eyes when he grabbed her arm.

“I haven’t had contact with her in any way since her disappearance. I don’t know...” she repeated.

“But you said...”

“I said I thought it was Ginny. I was hoping it would be her,” she said sadly, and Harry slowly let her arm go and ran a hand through his messy hair. Hermione sighed. “Why are you in France, Harry?” she asked. “Did you lose the train because of us?”

“No,” he said shaking his head. “I left with the rest of them.” He looked around to check if no one was hearing, before whispering, “My name is Neville Longbottom, OK? Call me that.” She nodded.

“How’s your mother?” he asked, resuming his walk.

“Better... but not completely recovered.”

“You heard what happened, didn’t you?”

“How could I? I’m living in the muggle world and I don’t have contact with any wizard or...”

“France has been taken by Slytherin,” Harry interrupted her. “He put one of his closest friends in the Ministry of Magic.”

Hermione didn’t say anything. She had expected something like that to happen, but she still had had hope that it wouldn’t... until now, that is.

“You should be in Spain,” Harry added.

“Harry, I mean, Neville, why start all over again? I told you I couldn’t leave with my mum sick and...”

“I’m saying now. You should leave now,” he said, leading her into a corner.

“Now? Why not a trip to the moon?” she asked with sarcasm.

“I know a way... through the mountains.”

“Are you kidding? Isn’t that a little bit dangerous?” she asked in disbelief.

“It’s more dangerous to stay here.”

“But my mom is still weak--”

“--We’ll take the easiest route--”

“--If they caught us, they’ll kill us right away,” she argued.

“Not if you have documents to prove that you are all muggles who don’t know anything about magic.”

“Fake documents, you mean.”

“Hermione, you don’t look like a coward to me. What’s wrong? Don’t you understand the situation you are in?”

Hermione had no arguments left. The truth was, she knew staying in France was like suicide. And Harry was offering her, and her parents, a way out. A hard one, but it seemed it was the only one left.

“I’ll be at your house at 8 o’clock,” Harry said, probably guessing what she was thinking.

* * *

As she had thought, her parents didn’t like the idea at all. They spent the whole afternoon arguing. Finally, Hermione decided she would pack everyone’s suitcases, hoping that when Harry arrived, they would come to their senses.

At 8 o’clock, the door bell rang. Hermione had placed the suitcases in the entrance hall, and her parents were sitting in the living room, with their faces pale. She opened the door and Harry came in. Mr. And Mrs. Granger stood up to face him.

“My daughter says you can get us out of France,” Mr. Granger said, after a while.

“Yes, sir.”

“In a really dangerous, and illegal way,” Mrs. Granger added in a skeptic tone.

Hermione had the feeling that Harry had expected that, because his expression didn’t change.

“I won’t deny that there are risks, but it’s better than staying here. Your daughter is in immediate danger,” he said, calmly.

“I just don’t understand why you care so much about us. We don’t even know you,” Mr. Granger said.

“Because he’s a very good friend of Ginny’s family, and I am friend of hers,” Hermione blabbed when Harry didn’t answer.

“Mr. Potter, we understand that you have the best intentions,” Mrs. Granger spoke. “But we don’t want our daughter to be exposed to such a danger.”

Hermione was furious that they would use her as a pretext to hide their own fears. She stood between them and Harry.

“I’ll be in danger if I stay here, mum. You don’t realize what they’re doing to us, muggle-borns. They have killed so many of us, and the others have been sent to prison or concentration fields!”

“You don’t know that for sure, honey. They are just rumors,” Mr. Granger said, weakly.

“Yes, look at all the time we have lived here and they hadn’t done anything to you,” added Mrs. Granger in the same tone.

Hermione stared at her parents with disbelief. What in the hell was wrong with them?

“We just want you to be safe, honey,” said Mrs. Granger, and she looked smaller and more vulnerable than ever. Hermione couldn’t be angry at them. They were fooling themselves... It was impossible to convince them.

She turned around to look at Harry, to tell him she was going to stay with her parents. She met his narrowed eyes, which were waiting for her decision. His eyes were so intense...

“I’m leaving,” the words came out of her mouth before she even realized.

“No, you’re not!” her father exclaimed “You’re just a child.”

“Dear, trust us... Nothing will happen to you,” her mother said.

Harry took Hermione’s cloak. “Which is your suitcase?” he asked.

“Are you leaving tonight?” Mr. Granger asked immediately.

Hermione looked at him. She knew her father was giving his blessing. If only they would come with her. She hugged him and then her mother. She showed her suitcase to Harry.

“Goodbye,” she gave a last look to her parents and left with Harry behind.

6. Danger Ahead

Chapter 5 – Danger ahead

Hermione could hardly believe what she had done. She had left her home, her parents, everything she knew. She was silently following Harry through the dark streets, not even knowing where they were heading. She was starting to think it was all a big mistake.

She had to walk really fast to keep up with Harry’s pace. He didn’t seem in the mood to talk, and she thought it was better that way.

Finally, after more than an hour, they arrived at a building. It was old and dirty, and it was in the outskirts of Paris. If I had had my wand we could’ve apparated instead of walking, she thought, while Harry led her to the third floor and knocked on the door from which the number 3 hung.

“Who’s there?” a female voice said.

“Me, Neville,” said Harry.

That ridiculous name again. Why couldn’t he choose something like Jack, or Mike? The door opened and Harry went inside, with Hermione behind. There, holding a wand was Fleur Delacour.

“You’re late,” she stated, looking at Harry.

“We had to walk,” he said simply. Hermione felt a pang of guilt, even though she knew she couldn’t do anything about it.

“I see,” Fleur said. She kissed Harry on the cheek. Hermione looked around. It was a small room. There was a table and a small bed... One bed. Was this Fleur’s house? Or did she share it with him? Looking at them now, whispering really close to each other, Hermione had the feeling that they were a couple.

“Where are your parents?” Fleur asked, looking at her, and, despite herself, Hermione gave a hard look. But why?

“The Grangers thought it might be too risky,” Harry answered for her, leaving the suitcase in the floor. Hermione felt her eyes filling with tears, and Fleur took her hand in a friendly gesture. Harry stared at both girls for a while. “I’ll be back as soon as possible,” he said.

“You’re leaving?” Hermione asked, not caring about the tears that now were falling freely down her face.

Harry smiled warmly at her. It was so unusual for him to do it, that Hermione felt comforted right away. “Don’t worry, Fleur will keep you busy,” he said, and then disapparated.

Fleur put a locking spell in the door and turned to Hermione. “Do you have your documents with you?” she asked.

Hermione took them out of her pocket and gave them to her. There was her muggle ID – her parents had insisted she should have one – and her Witch ID. Fleur stared at both of them. “We’ll put this one away,” she said, pointing the Witch ID. Then, she went to the table and started working on the muggle ID. She opened the plastic and started changing the name.

“Wouldn’t it be easier if you just use magic to do that?” Hermione asked.

“Yes, but a wizard can tell easily if an ID has been altered with magic. That’s why we have to do it the muggle way,” Fleur replied as she started to scratch off the black print.

In ten minutes, the ID was ready. It now it read: ‘Hermione Longbottom’ under ‘Name’.

“Harry thought it was better if you two pretended to be a married couple. It could stop a lot of questions,” Fleur explained. “You look tired. You should rest for a while.”

Hermione layed on the bed. But before she fell asleep, she couldn’t help but thinking that this was Harry and Fleur’s bed...

* * *

She woke up with a startle and the first thing she saw were Harry and Fleur talking softly in the corner. She cleared her throat to let them know she was awake.

“I’m glad you’ve woke up,” Fleur said, grabbing her blue cloak and approaching to Hermione. “I was going to go to work now, but I wanted to wish you good luck on your journey first.”

Hermione stood up and gave Fleur a hug. Even though she was jealous of her – of course, she didn’t want to admit that – that woman had helped her a lot. “Thank you for everything.”

“We’ll have some breakfast and then we’ll leave,” Harry announced when Fleur was shut the door behind her. “Oh, by the way, you need to change your clothes.”

“What’s wrong with my clothes?” asked Hermione, surprised (and a little offended on her fashion sense, to be honest). She was wearing blue jeans and an old, black, woolen sweater.

“You look like a teenager with them,” he replied.

“Last time I checked, I am a teenager,” she stated. “And so are you.”

Harry sighed. “We’re travelling as husband and wife. We have to pretend that we’re a little older, don’t you think?”

That made sense, of course. Harry told her that Fleur had left some clothes for her in the bathroom. Hermione found there a long, black skirt, a white blouse and a black sweater. She tried them on. They were at least one size bigger, but she didn’t mind. She twisted her bushy hair in a tight bun and added a little make up to her face. She wasn’t very fond of using it, but now, it was the only thing that could disguise her measly eighteen years.

When she emerged from the bathroom, Harry was putting his own clothes in her suitcase.

“Thanks for asking,” she commented with sarcasm.

“I’m sorry,” he said. “But I thought that it would be better travelling with just one suitcase.” He looked at her. “You look nice.”

Despite herself, she smiled. “Are you kidding? I look like my mother.”

Harry seemed older too. He was wearing blue pants and a green sweater. He put a hat on his head, which hid his scar. They sat down with a cup of coffee and Harry started explaining what they were going to do. They would have to reach Spain disguised as regular muggles. He wasn’t even going to carry his wand along... It could compromise them in case they were caught. They would use the train, and then they would have to walk through a path in the mountains. He hoped they wouldn’t have any encounters with the people from the FOS.

Hermione nodded. She knew it was going to be dangerous. Harry was taking a huge risk to help her, and she couldn’t understand why. She remembered everything that Ginny had told her about him, and now she understood what she had meant with the whole ‘hero’ thing.

* * *

Hermione shifted, uncomfortable in her third class seat on the train. She had taken the one next to the window. She had her eyes fixed in some women’s magazine that Harry had bought in the station. He was sitting right next to her, with a muggle newspaper. She wondered how he could stay so calm, while her legs couldn’t stop trembling.

The first part of the trip was uneventful. That was, until the train stopped when they were reaching Chalans. People started whispering immediately. She stopped breathing when three men stepped on the train and started asking for the passenger’s IDs. The muggles didn’t seem to understand what was happening, but they took out their documents immediately. The three men were obviously wizards, and, to make it worse, from the FOS. They looked threatening. Harry gave her a soothing look, that didn’t help to calm her nerves.

“Your ID, miss,” one of the wizards ordered, staring at her. Hermione froze. She couldn’t move, think or breath.

“Honey, your documents,” she heard Harry’s voice. Then, he grabbed her purse and took them out. “I’m sorry, sir,” he said, staring calmly at the wizard, who was giving a questioning look. He handed him the documents and said, “My wife isn’t feeling very well... She’s pregnant, you know?”

The wizard grabbed the ID. He gave a hard stare to Harry, but he didn’t make any questions.

* * *

Sixteen hours after leaving Paris’ station, they finally arrived in Lyon. The rest of the journey had been in silence, and so it was their walk towards the residential where they were going to stay. Hermione waited while Harry paid for the room, and they went upstairs.

Harry opened the door and his face fell. The room was really tiny. The small bed hardly fit in there, and it was the only thing in the room. He turned to look at Hermione, obviously uncomfortable.

“I’m sorry,” he apologized. “I supposed there would be a place on the floor for me to sleep.”

Hermione smiled. She entered in the room and lay on the bed. “Don’t worry Harry. I’m too tired to try to seduce you tonight,” she teased.

Harry hesitated and then entered in the room, closing the door behind him. He lay on the bed, next to Hermione, trying hard not to touch her, but it was impossible, so he gave up. They turned their backs to each other and tried to get some rest.

Hermione spent the next two hours trying to sleep, but she couldn’t. She was too embarrased about what had happened in the train. Where was her courage!? They could have caught both of them and all because of her... Harry hadn’t made any comments, but she was sure he was disappointed.

That wasn’t all she had on her mind. The remorse of leaving her parents was almost killing her. After all, they were trying to protect her. In a wrong way, she reminded herself.

“Are you awake?” she heard Harry asking, in a soft voice.

“Yeah,” she answered without turning around. “I’m so ashamed,” she muttered.

“Why? Because of what happened on the train?” Hermione nodded. “Don’t be. Nothing happened. Anyone would’ve panicked at a time like that.”

“You didn’t.”

“Well, not today, but the first time I faced the FOS, I did.”

Hermione sat on the bed. Harry was looking at her. “Harry, why are you doing this? I mean, why are you helping me?”

Harry rubbed his forehead. He took a whole minute before answering. “Because I had to,” he said. Hermione gave him a questioning look, and he sighed. “This is what I do. It’s my job to help muggle-borns running away from Slytherin and the FOS.”

“I thought you were on the joke-shop business,” Hermione said, half joking, half serious.

“I am in that region of business as well. My work with the Weasley twins is one thing,” Harry replied. “I’ve been working with Godric Gryffindor since I left Hogwarts. Ron too... And Mr. Weasley,” he said and, even though it was dark, Hermione noticed the sadness in his face.

“What do Ron and the others say about..?” she asked softly, but her voice sounded shrilly.

“They are getting desperate,” Harry cleared his throat. “They are moving every string to take them out. You have no idea how many times I had to stop Ron from coming to France and entering in La Santè... Gryffindor has tried to do something but it’s almost impossible. If Slytherin finds out about our actions, we’re doomed.”

A deep silence followed. They remained in their positions, not looking at each other.

“You’re sad about what happened with your parents, aren’t you?” Harry asked after a while.

Hermione sighed “Yes... I can’t forgive myself for abandoning them.”

Harry looked at her. “You didn’t abandon them. They had you trapped in there, Hermione. You could’ve--”

“Don’t say that,” she interrupted him “You don’t understand them.”

“Yes, you’re right, I don’t. I can’t understand why they were so afraid to leave the country, when their daughter was in danger.”

Hermione frowned, but didn’t respond. It hurt her deeply to hear that attack to her parents... But what hurt her more was that she didn’t understand either. She lay down again and turned her back to him.

“I’m sorry,” Harry apologized, a couple of minutes later. “I shouldn’t have said that. It’s just that when things are hard for me, I act like an insensitive git.”

* * *

A/N: Short chapter, I know. The following ones are longer, I promise.

Thanks to Emily for her Beta Reading!

7. On the Edge

A/N:Thanks a lot for the reviews, I’m glad you’re liking this story. I trust you’ll like this chapter, that is if you’re a H/Hr fan *hint*.

This chapter was beta read by klutzyplutzy and lucky charms.

Chapter 6 – On the edge

When she woke up, Harry was gone. Under different circumstances, she wouldn’t have been alarmed, but it was different now. What if they had been found during the night? But she would have woken up, wouldn’t she? Besides, she was the muggle-born, not him... Maybe he had abandoned her, decided it wasn’t worth risking his life for her.

“Hermione, are you alright?”

Harry had just entered the small room. It was obvious he had just taken a shower. He was carrying two plastic cups of coffee. Hermione realized she must look horrible, with messy hair, wrinkled clothes, and the dumbfounded look on her face that comes with having just woken up, not to mention waking up confused.

“Yeah, I’m fine,” she answered, trying to arrange her hair as best she could.

“I have bad news,” Harry said, sitting down on the edge of the bed, “We’ll have to stay here until Friday.”

Friday? It was only Tuesday! “Three days? Stuck here? But why?!”

“It’s the snow,” Harry replied, pointing the small window above the bed. Outside, the streets were white. “The road to Annecy, the place where we need to go, has been closed. They told me it will not be opening until Friday morning.”

Hermione bit her lip. If they had their wands, they could just apparate. But hers had been lost long ago, and Harry’s was waiting for him in Spain. He had sent it to a friend with his owl, Hedwig.

“That hairstyle suits you well,” teased Harry, and Hermione hit him with a pillow.

* * *

“You don’t talk much about yourself,” Hermione commented to Harry, trying to sound casual and not to curious, which she was.

They were lying on the same bed that night. The day had been uneventful. Harry had suggested that Hermione stay in the house while he gathered some information. They had eaten some Chinese food he had brought and then had gone to bed. This time, they weren’t as uncomfortable as the previous night. They were lying on their backs, staring at the rusty ceiling.

“What do you mean? I haven’t done anything but talk,” Harry said, surprised. It was true. He had spent the last half hour telling her about Godric Gryffindor and the activities the Resistance was doing to stop Slytherin.

“You know what I mean,” she said. In the time she had known him, she had come to understand that Harry wasn’t a very talkative person-the complete opposite of her. Hermione could spend hours talking about anything. So, in the two hours they had spent lying in bed, she had told him pretty much her whole life story. Her relationship with her parents, with Ginny, her time at school... She had even mentioned the fact that she had never had a boyfriend and that men tended to be somewhat afraid of her.

“I’m sorry,” Harry said after a while, “You’re right. I guess I’m not used to talking about myself. People usually think they know everything about me just because I defeated Voldemort.”

“That must be annoying,” Hermione commented.

Harry shrugged, “I guess the only people who really know me are the Weasleys and Sirius.”

“Who’s Sirius?” she asked.

“He was both my godfather and my father’s best friend... I’m sure you’ve heard of him-- Sirius Black?”

Hermione tried to remember. Yes, the name was indeed familiar...

“You mean... The convict?”

Harry laughed softly. “Yes. Everyone knows him as ‘the convict’, even though he was innocent.”

Hermione listened with great interest while Harry told her everything about his Sirius. She learned that half of Harry’s fortune had been inherited from him. He had died a year ago during a special mission for Gryffindor.

“Do you miss him?” asked Hermione, feeling stupid for making such an obvious question.

“Yeah,” Harry said, his green eyes fixed on the ceiling. He had removed his glasses and he looked somewhat younger without them. “He was the only father I’ve ever known.”

Hermione felt sorry for him. She was about to say something when Harry suddenly stiffened.

“Wha-?” she started but Harry covered her mouth. He put his glasses on with his free hand and stared through the small window. Hermione followed his gaze. There was a group of people a few feet away, in the street, wearing robes and cloaks. They were shouting and started to run.

“What’s going on?” asked Hermione moving only her lips.

“I don’t know,” replied Harry in the same movements.

“Stop him!” someone shouted outside.

It seemed they were following someone. A middle aged man suddenly stopped in the middle of the street, and Harry and Hermione were able to see his frightened face by looking out of the window.

“Please, don’t...” he pleaded to the man who had been chasing him.

“Filthy mudblood,” someone muttered with hate. “Avada Kedavra!”

Hermione screamed silently when she saw the man dropping dead in the cold street. Harry held her hand tightly. The wizards disapparated.

Hermione laid her head down, horrified. She felt Harry laying by her side. He didn’t say anything, but didn’t let go of her hand.

* * *

The trip to Annecy was faster than Hermione had expected. Friday had finally arrived, and now Harry and Hermione were starting their journey through the mountains. The worst part, if you asked her.

Harry had bought two warm cloaks. He had assured her it would be cold, and they would have to cover a lot of ground to reach the house where they were to sleep that night. Harry had a friend who lived up in the mountains and was going to help them.

It was foggy and the snow below their boots cracked as they walked. Hermione was sighing heavily while she tried to keep up with Harry’s fast pace. He was a Quidditch player which meant he was of course in great physical condition; but she had never been good at sports. To make it worse, she was starting to feel dizzy.

Harry had barely talked at all that day. He was walking ahead of her, with his eyes fixed on the path. Hermione wished he would say something, but she didn’t feel as uncomfortable as before with his silence. The days they had spent in Lyon had been enough to break the ice between them.

Half an hour later he stopped and turned around. He smiled when he saw how tired she looked.

“Are you OK?” he asked.

Hermione nodded. Her feet hurt. Badly.

“Are you cold?”

“No, I’m fine,” she replied.

“Liar,” he approached and embraced her. She started to feel warm immediately. They stayed like that for at least five minutes. “Better?” he asked at last and backed away.

“Thank you,” she said, blushing. They started walking again. Hermione started singing an old British song her mother had taught her when she was 7. Harry started singing along and they ended up laughing at how bad they sounded.

Hours passed and night fell. The temperature dropped drastically and the fog became denser. Hermione didn’t know how high they were, but she felt her lungs burning.

A dog’s loud bark made them stop. Harry grabbed Hermione’s arm and waited. More barks followed.

“Don’t make a sound,” whispered Harry in her ear, “There’s a FOS base near.”

“A FOS base?” Hermione panicked, “You never told me that.”

“I’m telling you now,” Harry said. Then his face softened, “Don’t worry, I won’t let anything happen to you.” Somehow, those words calmed her. “Listen to me, Hermione. We are going to leave the path; we’ll go through the forest.”

He took her hand and led her though the snow, which reached her knees. Moving forward was really hard, but Harry didn’t stop. The trees made everything darker and she found it terribly hard to try and not fall forward into the thick, white mass that was snow.

Fifteen minutes later they approached a cliff. Harry looked around; they were near the top of the mountain. They could see the lights of a city below and Hermione guessed it was Vizcaya, the Spain city where they were going. That gave her hope and strength.

“OK, we’re almost there,” he assured her.

“Stop right there!” a hard voice shouted.

Hermione turned around. There was no one there and she turned to Harry, scared. Without further notice, Harry started to run, not loosening the grip on her hand.

“I said stop!” Three wizards apparated in front of them. A group of dogs behind them were barking menacingly.

“Jesus,” muttered Harry and he stood in front of Hermione, protecting her. “They had never used this side of the mountain,” he said, not caring about the volume of his voice. “We’ll have to surrender.”

Hermione gasped. Harry was a spy for Godric Gryffindor. If the FOS caught him, they would kill him immediately.

“NO!” she said.

“What choice do we have?” he asked.

If it wasn’t for her, he could have run away easily. He was an expert. He could have even used his magic. It was her fault. She had to do something.

“Enough talking,” one of the wizards said. He lifted his wand.

Harry let the suitcase go and grabbed Hermione’s waist, throwing her to the ground. A beam of green light passed over their heads. They scrambled to their feet and began to run without looking back. Finally Harry hid behind a huge oak, still holding Hermione. The FOS had followed them closely and they were going to find them any minute.

Once again, Harry grabbed Hermione’s hand and started running. They heard one of the wizards shouting and the dogs barks. They reached the edge of the cliff. Harry threw a stone. If they fell, there was no chance of living through the fall.

“Follow me,” Harry ordered. Hermione looked in awe as he started going down, with the help of the roots and stones. She didn’t have a lot of time to think, she trusted him and she followed, even though she was scared to death.

The stones were sharp, and soon her hands were bleeding. They descended 60 feet or so and suddenly Harry ordered her to stop.

“Where are they?” she heard one of the wizards saying. He was at the edge of the cliff. If he looked down, he would spot them immediately.

“Where do you think, you idiot? They went down the cliff.”

Harry approached Hermione and pushed her against the side of the cliff. A few beams of light passed next to them. Harry covered her body with his own. She could feel his breathing in her ear and she wondered if he was as frightened as she was. The air was colder on this side of the mountain and Hermione could hardly breathe.

“This is useless. They must have fallen already,” another wizard said.

“I saw the girl fall,” another assured, “But the man...”

Hermione felt Harry moving and she understood what he was doing. He let the bag he was carrying on his back fall.

“There he goes,” the first wizard said and let out a dark laugh. “Let’s go back,” he said, and they disapparated.

They waited a couple of minutes and then, Harry helped Hermione to climb up.

“Are you alright?” he asked softly.

She nodded, but she couldn’t speak. She tried to stand up, but her legs didn’t respond. She was on her knees. Harry kneeled beside her.

“Let’s go,” he said.

“Just... a minute,” she pleaded.

“We’re almost there.”

“I can’t move.” What was wrong with her? She was being weak.

“If you stay here, you’ll freeze,” Harry said. He then helped her to stand up.

They walked a few feet and Hermione saw a wooden house not very far away. The lights were on and there was smoke coming out of the chimney.

A bark made her jump. A huge black dog was running towards them. Hermione couldn’t believe it. After all they had done, it was going to end like this??

“Fang, come here boy!” Harry said, and to Hermione’s surprise, the dog sat next to them, while Harry scratched its head.

“ ’Arry! I was starting to think ya wouldn’t make it!”

A very large man was approaching. He had black hair, a beard, and was almost as tall as the trees around them.

“We had an encounter with the FOS,” Harry explained. “This is Hermione Granger, Ginny Weasley’s friend.”

“I’m Hagrid, nice to meet ya,” Hermione shook his big hand, “Come in ya guys, yer goin’ ter freeze out ‘ere.”

* * *

Hermione was lying under a pile of blankets in Hagrid’s barn. To avoid any trouble, Harry had refused to sleep in Hagrid’s house and they had went to the barn instead. It was strangely warm inside.

Harry was asleep, three feet away from her. They had eaten with Hagrid and explained what had happened on their journey. Hagrid was a great man in Hermione’s opinion, and she would be eternally thankful to him for helping both her and Harry.

She glanced over at Harry’s sleeping form. He had some scratches on his face she hadn’t noticed before. He must have acquired them when they were running through the forest. She wondered how many times Harry had risked his life to save another.

Then, the expression in his face changed. He looked disturbed. He started moving and panting. After spending three nights with him in the same bed, Hermione knew he didn’t move when he was sleeping.

“Harry” she whispered. He didn’t wake up, “Harry!” she said louder.

He was still breathing heavily. He obviously had a nightmare. Hermione got out of her ‘bed’ and approached his. She touched his shoulder slightly and he stopped moving immediately. Instead he grabbed her wrist so tightly that he hurt her.

“It’s me, Harry,” she whispered.

He stared at her eye-widened. Then, he calmed down and released her wrist. “I’m sorry... It’s a bad habit of mine.”

“I see you have good reflexes,” Hermione commented, holding her wrist. “You were having a nightmare, weren’t you?”

He sat down and rubbed his eyes. “I was on that cliff again,” he said.

“That must’ve been lovely,” she said sarcastically.

“A lot of people have died there, you know?” Harry said, staring at her, “People who knew this mountain way better than us.”

Hermione swallowed hard. She knelt beside him.

“And you followed me without vacillation. I’ve never seen anyone as brave as you,” he added.

“Brave? I’d say stupid. Besides, I didn’t have a choice.”

“Most people would’ve preferred to surrender to the FOS.”

Hermione stayed silent for a while. Harry kept looking at her. It was the same piercing look he had given her when they had met at Ginny’s house.

“I was thinking,” she said “What about my parents? If they’d come they would probably...”

“I was thinking the same thing,” Harry said, sadly, “If they had come they would’ve been caught... Or maybe even killed.”

Hermione shuddered. “We’re alive, Harry,” she whispered.

“Barely.” He covered his face with his hands. “I don’t know what I was thinking.”

“What do you mean?” she asked, confused.

“I risked your life. I promised you I would protect you.”

“And you did!” she said, “Harry, if it hadn’t been for you I wouldn’t be here now.”

He stared at her. His green eyes were so sad... and afraid. It was the first time since she had known him that he had showed weakness. He looked so helpless for that moment that Hermione felt the need to embrace him. She hugged him tightly, so that he’d understood she was there for him. He hugged her back as well.

They stayed like that for a long time. Finally, Harry let her go, but she didn’t back away. Their eyes met. They were so close that their foreheads were together.

“Harry...” she muttered, but his mouth was already on hers.

It started as a soft kiss, but soon the passion got the best of them. Nobody had ever kissed her before. And certainly, she had never felt such a rush of emotions. Passion, joy, fear, satisfaction, relief... love. She threw her arms around his neck and she let herself go. She didn’t stop to think about morals or anything else.

He was the only thing she needed.

8. A New Day

Chapter 7 – A New Day

She couldn’t imagine a greater bliss. She had forgotten about everything: Slytherin, the FOS, Paris, the mountain, her parents, the fear... basically the whole world. All that mattered was that very moment where she was lying in the hay, in the arms of the man she had come to love.

She wasn’t sure when it had started... probably when she saw him for the first time, at the Weasley’s house. He was everything she had dreamt about. He was her first and only love. She was sure about that.

“I love you,” she whispered into his chest.

Harry kissed her forehead gently, but didn’t say anything. She was okay with that. She didn’t expect anything from him in return. She had given herself up to him entirely even though she wasn’t sure if Harry felt something for her. He had more experience than her, that much was obvious. And after a near death experience, he might have just lost his common sense... Was she just another woman in his life or did she mean something more to him?

They stayed like that, naked but comfortable with each other’s warmth until the sun came out and with it, the birth of a new day.

“We should get dressed, we must leave at once,” Harry said, and he stood up reluctantly.

*****

This time, the journey was a lot easier than the previous day. Since they were going down the mountain, Hermione didn’t get that tired. Besides, the day was warmer. Harry didn’t talk at all, except for some comments about how close they were to reaching Vizcaya or things like “be careful” or “we’ll have to go faster”. Hermione was starting to think he regretted what had happened last night and that it had put a barrier between them.

They reached the bottom of the mountain in the late afternoon. Harry eyed the area. There was a wired fence in front of them.

“It’s very possible that there are FOS agents around, since this is the last part of their territory,” Harry explained, looking at her for the first time since they had started walking again. Hermione tried to keep her face expressionless. “Listen Hermione, I’ll hold this for you,” he said as he lifted the wire to let her through, “When I say so, run as fast as you can and, no matter what, don’t stop. Do you understand?”

“What about you?” she asked, trying to keep her voice cool.

Harry didn’t answer. He looked around and then... “NOW!” he yelled.

Hermione passed through the wired fence and ran faster than she had ever run before. She didn’t turn around, she just kept running. She couldn’t hear anything. Was Harry behind her? She was too scared to look. Suddenly, she tripped and roll down the road. Her arms and legs were full of bruises and cuts. She tried to stand up, but her ankle seemed broken.

“Oh, God! Hermione!” Harry reached her, breathing heavily and he knelt beside her, “Are you alright?”

She had a wound on her forehead that was bleeding, “Don’t stop Harry, keep running!” she shouted, pushing him.

“Easy,” Harry soothed her, “There’s no danger. We’re in Spain.”

She stared at him for a minute, and then she understood. They had reached Spain. They were both alive, and free! She was so happy, she wanted to jump, although the pain in her ankle didn’t seem to keen on that. The palms of her hands were bleeding and Harry bandaged them with shreds of his shirt. Hermione looked at him thankfully, but he avoided her eyes. He then checked her ankle, making her wince when he touched it.

“I think it’s broken,” he said. He then lifted her in his arms and started walking.

“Where are we going?” Hermione asked, her head resting on his chest.

He didn’t have time to answer. A wizard apparated in front of them. He was a middle-aged man, with light brown hair and a warm smile. He approached them quickly.

“Hello Remus,” greeted Harry, still holding Hermione.

“Welcome to Vizcaya,” Remus said.

*****

“OK, drink this and you’ll feel better,” Remus said, giving her a glass of green liquid. “Don’t worry about your ankle; it will be fine again tomorrow.”

Hermione was in a comfortable bed, in a room in Remus’ house. She had taken a warm bath (finally) and eaten a delicious meal. She hadn’t realized how hungry she was until then. Remus himself had attended to her wounds.

The door opened and Harry – also cleaned up – came in.

“Everything alright?” he asked, looking at Remus.

“Yes, she’s tough as a rock,” the man replied. “I have some business I must attend to... I’ll see you later.”

Remus went out, shutting the door behind him. Harry grabbed a chair and sat beside the bed. He seemed nervous and cleared his throat a couple of times.

“Umm... I...”

“You don’t have to say anything, Harry,” Hermione said.

Harry sighed and ran a hand through his hair.

“Thank you,” Hermione added.

“What for?”

“For everything. For saving me, for risking your life, for last night...”

“There’s nothing to thank me for,” Harry cut her off. “You should rest now.”

“Would you stay with me... just for a while?”

Harry nodded and Hermione closed her eyes. Before she knew it, she was in a deep sleep.

*****

At first when she woke, she didn’t know where she was. And then she remembered. She was safe. She was in Spain.

She took a long shower. She thought about her parents. What would her mother say if she knew that her pure and beloved daughter had lost her virginity in a barn? She couldn’t help but smile at the thought of Mrs. Granger’s reaction. However, the smile soon disappeared when she remembered she had left them alone in the enemy’s territory. She thought about Ginny and her parents too. She turned off the water and stepped out of the shower.

Someone – probably Harry – had left clothes for her on the bed. They had lost their baggage in the mountain and the outfit she had been wearing was destroyed after two days of literal rock-climbing. The new clothes on the bed was a great sight to see, even if it was only was a white sweater and a pair of blue jeans. They fit her perfectly. She had just dressed and was dealing with her ever impossible hair, when someone knocked on the bedroom door.

“Come in.”

Harry popped his head in the room. He stared at Hermione as if he was seeing her for the first time.

“You look great,” he mumbled. Hermione smiled, “Anyway, I’m going downtown and I wondered if you would want to come with me.”

*****

“Wow. This place is wonderful,” Hermione muttered.

Harry had taken her to Avenida Valdivia- a street only for wizards. Hermione had only seen this many wizards and witches at one time at Beauxbatons. There were so many interesting stores, especially the ones full of books. She would have spent the whole day there, if Harry hadn’t dragged her out. She knew she looked like a little girl going to an amusement park for the first time, and she felt a little embarrased that Harry could think she was impressed by her own world.

He led her to a small store on the corner.

“I have a present for you,” he said, and opened the door.

It was a wand store. An old witch was at the counter and lifted her eyes when she saw the two of them coming in.

“I figured it was time you had another wand,” Harry added.

He was going to buy her a wand? “But Harry...”

“No buts,” Harry stopped her. “I want to buy a wand for you, OK?” He approached the counter. “Good morning Mrs. Ollivander,” he said.

The witch looked at him, “Mr. Potter, good to see you again.”

“How is your husband doing?” Harry asked politely.

“Well, he’s trying to keep his business in Diagon Alley, but it has become difficult with Slytherin and his Agents around.”

Harry nodded. He motioned to Hermione to come closer. “This is my friend, Hermione Granger.” Hermione couldn’t stop thinking of the word friend with disgust. “She needs a new wand.”

“Of course,” the old witch smiled, “Please miss, come here and try this...”

After trying about ten wands, Hermione found one that fit her well. It had one unicorn hair, just like her previous one. Harry paid the seven galleons and they went outside.

“Thank you very much, Harry,” Hermione said. Harry didn’t say anything and led her to a small cafeteria.

“There’s something I need to tell you,” Harry started, when they had ordered.

Hermione shifted in her seat. He was probably going to say that the other night had been a mistake.

“I have to return to England,” he said, taking a sip of his coffee.

“What?” She definitely hadn’t expected that. “When? Why?”

“Tomorrow. There’s still so much to do. We have to stop Slytherin. Godric needs me there. Besides, I want to check on Ron.”

Hermione nodded. She was being selfish. She was safe already, but there were too many people who still needed help.

“I’m sorry to leave you here, like this,” he continued, “But Remus will help you.” Hermione nodded again. “I opened an account for you in Gringotts bank.”

“What? Harry, you can’t do that. You can’t give me money.”

“Why not? I have too much anyway. And you left everything back in Paris,” he insisted.

She shook her head. “Sorry, I can’t accept it. I know I don’t have any money, but I’ll find a job or something.”

“Fine, do what you want. Anyway, have this.”

He gave her an envelope. Hermione opened it. Inside, there was a Floo Pass to travel to the United States. Wizards and witches could travel to other countries just by using special fireplaces led by the ministry. She knew how hard and expensive it was to get one of those in that time.

“What’s this?” she asked.

“I told you that Gryffindor’s people are locating the muggle-borns and refugees in the US. You have to go there.”

“No.”

Harry frowned. “Why not?”

“I don’t want to leave Europe, Harry. All the people I love are here.” So are you, she thought, but didn’t say it out loud.

“But...” he protested.

“Please understand. I couldn’t be that far away, not knowing what’s going on here.” She gave him back the envelope. “I’ll stay in Spain until the Liberation.”

Harry stared at her but didn’t make any further comments. Hermione understood he was somehow hurt by her rejection. After all, it was a very valuable gift.

*****

They arrived at Remus’ house in the evening. They had avoided the subject of Harry’s return to England and the money. Hermione was feeling uneasy though. She had this weird feeling that she wouldn’t see Harry again... Maybe that was what he wanted.

“Hermione?” Harry stopped her before they could enter in the house.

“What is it, Harry?” she asked, turning around.

Harry stood in front of her, with his hands in his pockets. He was serious, but Hermione got the impression that he was a little nervous too.

“I don’t want to leave before discussing something with you.” He motioned to a bench that Remus had in the front of his house, and they sat. A couple of minutes passed and nothing was said.

“I know what you want to say,” said Hermione finally. She couldn’t stand it anymore. She knew Harry had finally decided to bring up the subject of their night together.

“You do?” he asked, wide eyed.

Hermione nodded. “It’s OK. Really, you don’t have to worry about it. I’m not asking you to return my feelings. And I don’t regret what happened on the mountain, even if you do-”

“What? Regret it?” Harry interrupted, “I’d never... I don’t.”

Hermione stopped babbling immediately.

“I’m sorry for the way I acted... you know, after,” he continued after taking a deep breath. “I think I was scared.”

“Scared? Of what?”

Harry ran a hand through his hair. “Of the way I feel.”

“Oh,” she said, just to say something. She wasn’t sure of what he was trying to tell her.

“Of the way I feel about you,” he repeated and grabbed her hand. “Look, I think you already know that I’m not very good with words, but... I think, no, I know that I love you too.”

Hermione’s heart stopped beating. Was he serious? He, Harry Potter, the famous, handsome and rich hero loved her, Hermione Granger, poor, plain muggle-born?

Harry looked her directly in the eyes. “I’ve never felt like this, and I know it’s a cliche to say it...”

She didn’t need to hear anymore. She kissed him. He returned the kiss and she knew he had been honest.

******

They spent the whole night in each other’s arms, talking. It was as if they had known each other for years instead of only a month. Hermione was afraid that the morning might come and steal Harry away.

When she woke up, he was already gone. Beside her bed, on the nighttable, she found a note. “I’ll see you soon.”

*********************************************************************

A/N: I hope you liked this chapter. Again, I must thank Emily for Beta Reading this. For those of you who have read The Proposal, I’ll try to have the next chapter as soon as possible. I won’t make any promises that I don’t know if I’ll be able to fulfill, so please be patient.

9. Wind of Change

A/N: Once again, I must thank Emily for the Beta Reading. She has done an awesome job polishing this.

I fixed a minor mistake, thanks to Forest for telling me.

Chapter 8 – Wind of Change

November, 2001

Draco Malfoy was doing what he most enjoyed: drinking a glass of strong liquor, in a nice wizard club, checking out the lovely witches that hanged around the important men that went to those places. It wasn’t that he was one of those important men anyway. In fact, he was just an employee at the Owl Post in Madrid. He couldn’t complain, though. It was that or going to the war. And he wasn’t made for the battle field. No Sir, Draco Malfoy was made for living the good life.

Then, his eyes fell on a woman that had just entered. She seemed out of place there, but then again, it looked as if she was looking for someone. She was vaguely short, thin, and had a head full of long, cinnamon hair. Draco wasn’t going to give her a ten, but she was still very beautiful. Her intriguing face was rather familiar. Her big, brown eyes and her soft lips... He was sure he recognized her from somewhere else. Just then, their eyes met. Draco gave her one of the smiles which he used to flirt with the female population; the very same that made most of the witches he met fall at his feet. The girl returned the smile and started walking towards him. She must know him after all... Draco stayed where he was, trying to remember. Was she that Spanish girl he had hooked up with a week ago at Naola Rembaldi’s party? Could he be so low and not remember her?

“You’re Draco Malfoy, aren’t you?” she said, when she finally reached his table.

‘British,’ Draco thought. He smiled at her. “Don’t tell me,” he said, waving a hand. He thought for a moment. “We met in that club from downtown two weeks ago.”

She laughed. “No. Actually, we met in Paris.”

Paris? It had been a long time since he had been there...

“You used to deliver me messages...” she added, amused by his lack of memory.

“Gosh! Hermione! Hermione Grant, is it?”

“Granger,” she corrected, now laughing aloud.

“Granger, Granger, Granger,” he repeated. “I won’t forget it again. God, you’ve grown. What are you doing in Madrid?”

“That’s a really long story,” she said.

“I have time,” he said, smiling again. “I know a great place to have dinner. Why don’t you join me and tell me what have you been doing in this past four years?”

She nodded. “Sounds good to me,” she said. “I just have to deliver this package to someone and I’ll get back to you.”

****

Half an hour later, they were sitting in a nice place which was strictly Spanish food. They ordered ‘paella’ with a glass of wine for Draco and an orange juice for Hermione.

“So that’s what you do? You deliver packages? Last time I checked, there are owls to do that job,” Draco commented.

Hermione smiled slightly. Of course, that wasn’t her job. She was Lady McGonagall’s secretary. Minerva McGonagall had been one of the most important women in England before Slytherin had arrived to the power. She was purely an aristocrat. She had refused to continue living in the same country as Salazar Slytherin (whom she despised deeply), and had moved to Spain long before the blood cleaning and the war had started.

About two months after arriving to Vizcaya and looking for a job, Remus had recommended her to McGonagall, an old friend of his father. So McGonagall had hired her immediately, and of course that had meant that she had to move to Madrid. She had spent the last three years working with the old –while nice- lady, and Hermione was very fond of her. She took care of almost everything for her, including delivering some very important and confidential packages that would be too dangerous to leave to an owl. Hermione was the only person who knew that Minerva McGonagall gave a lot of money to the Resistance’s cause.

Satisfied with her explanation, Draco proposed a toast. “For France’s liberation,” he said. The day before, the Resistance had gotten France back. The Ministry of Magic that worked under Slytherin’s orders had been defeated and the territory was free again.

“So, are your parents here with you?” asked Draco, taking a sip of his wine.

“No,” she said and sadness covered her face. The truth was that she didn’t know anything about her parent’s whereabouts. After arriving to Vizcaya, she had done the impossible to communicate with them. She had tried the muggle way, using the mail and the telephone, and the wizard way, sending owls and everything. However, she couldn’t reach them. About four months after her arrival to Spain, someone had answered the phone in her old house. The woman who picked it up, told her that the people who lived there had moved and she didn’t know anything else.

“But I thought they had taken the train with you,” Draco said. That’s right, Hermione thought. The last time that Draco had seen her was when he gave her the tickets for that train. She explained to him that they hadn’t taken the train because her mother had been ill. “I’m sorry, it seems that I screwed up,” he apologized.

“Not at all.” She cleared her throat and decided to change the subject. “What about you? What do you for living?”

“You’re looking at someone who has achived an excellent carreer in the business of Owl Post,” Draco said and she laughed.

“I always thought you had come from a rich family,” she said.

Draco let out a sarcastic laugh. “Really? Do I look like a rich kid? My father was a good for nothing. He abandoned my mother even before I was born.” Hermione looked at him sadly, but he smiled energetically. “You know, my family history is a really boring subject. Why don’t you tell me how you managed to get out of France?”

“Well... Harry Potter had an... escape network.” She said warily, twirling the fork in her hand.

“The Harry Potter we know? Are you kidding me?” Draco asked, surprised.

“No. He got me out,” Hermione said.

“So Harry worked for the Resistance? I should’ve guessed...” Draco said shaking his head.

Hermione’s face got really serious suddenly. She lowered her voice. “So... I guess that means that you haven’t had any news from him either.”

“Not a word. I haven’t heard anything about Mr. Potter since I left France, but, to be truly honest, we only met at the Hotel, in Paris. We went to different schools in Great Britain. So it’s natural that after all that happened we went our separate ways,” Draco explained, not noticing Hermione’s sad eyes staring at her plate.

“You looked like really close friends,” she commented softly.

“That’s me, I’m everybody’s friend.” He winked. The waiter came back with the order and they waited until he left. “So, you haven’t heard anything from him either, huh?” Draco asked casually, taking a bite of the paella.

“No. It’s been a while since I last heard of him,” she answered, playing absent-mindly with her food. He didn’t notice the bitter tone in her voice.

“Well, Harry is an important man. He’s always very busy and doesn’t really have the time for us, the commoners.” He laughed at his own bad joke, but she didn’t follow. “Well, enough talk about the past,” Draco said, cheerfully. “I hope you won’t think I’m rude by asking this, but... Are you seeing someone?”

Hermione grabbed a piece of bread. Draco held his breath, until he heard her mutter “No…”

“What a coincidence,” he said, flashing one of his million dollar smiles. “Neither am I.”

****

Later that night, Hermione was lying in her bed, staring at the ceiling. She couldn’t have fallen asleep even if she had tried. The dinner with Draco Malfoy had brought two especially painful subjects back into her memory: her parents and Harry.

Harry... How long had it been since she had had news from him? Almost three years. Three years! She couldn’t believe the time had passed so quickly. It seemed like yesterday when she had seen him for the last time.

**Flashback**

June, 1999

It was a warm Saturday morning, and Hermione was in the office she had in Lady McGonagall’s house, finishing some letters that her employer had asked her to write. Someone knocked on her door.

“Hermione, dear?” It was Lady McGonagall. She had become very attached to her secretary and treated her like a grandchild most of the time. She had even asked her to move into her house, but Hermione preferred renting a very small apartment where she could have privacy. “Someone’s looking for you,” the old lady said in a sing-song voice.

“For me?” That was strange. Hermione didn’t have any friends in Madrid. Of course, that was only because Hermione spent most of her time working to keep her mind busy to stop thinking about the dangers Harry was facing and what could have become of her parents.

She followed Lady McGonagall to the main hall. Standing there, wearing a black cloak and a tired face was Harry. She forgot immediately about her ladylike appearance around Lady McGonagall and ran to him. She threw her arms to his neck.

“Oh, my God!” she gasped. She hadn’t seen him since he had left her in Remus’ house in Vizcaya, and it had been six months since then. In that time, Hermione had written to him almost everyday, and Harry replied every once in a while, with short notes. She didn’t care, though. It was enough to read that he was faring well.

“I’ve missed you so much,” he muttered into her hair.

“Dear,” interrupted Lady McGonagall with a smile. Hermione looked at her, slightly embarrased. “Please go with Mr. Potter. You don’t have to work right now. After all, it is Saturday.”

She thanked her, and she left the two alone.

“I can’t stay in Spain,” Harry said. “I have to go back to London tomorrow.”

“So soon?”

“Yes... That’s why I want us to use well this little time we have. I rented a chalet in the outskirts of Madrid. Let’s go.”

******

They went there using Floo Podwer. It was a small, wooden chalet, and there wasn’t another house around. Harry had rented it that very same morning and Hermione though it was a sweet gesture of him to have gone through the trouble.

She made some spaghetti for lunch, with breadsticks and butter for a side. During lunch, Hermione noticed that Harry was quieter than usual. She talked the whole time, about trivial subjects to lighten the mood. She told him about her job, about those six months in Madrid, how she had learned Spanish using a spell that Remus had taught her... Harry nodded and made a few comments, but nothing more.

Finally, she gave up with her effort to carry a conversation. “I’m sorry, Harry,” she apologized.

He lifted his eyes from his plate and looked at her. “For what?”

“For being so noisy and talkative... I understand if you want to rest, and be alone. I can go back to Madrid...”

“Is that what you want?” he asked.

“No, but... well...” she shrugged.

“I’m not being very good company, huh?” he commented, rubbing his eyes.

“The problem isn’t me... Is it?” she asked softly. It was a proper question. They hadn’t seen each other for long, and maybe the only reason he had asked her to come with him was because he felt he had to do it.

“Hell, no. Don’t tell me you took it personally.”

“Of course I did, you silly!” she said playfully and left her seat and kneeled beside him.

“The problem is me. I don’t even know who I am anymore,” he said looking at her. She saw that haunted look again, the very same that he had that night in Hagrid’s barn.

“What happened?” she asked, carefully. Harry didn’t answer. He sighed and remained silent. “Do you want to talk about it?” she insisted.

He shook his head. “It was enough with the reports I had to write about it...”

Hermione knew him enough to realize it wasn’t a good idea to press him. If he wanted to talk, he would.

“Why don’t we go for a walk?” she suggested.

“That’s a great idea,” Harry sighed.

The chalet was surrounded by a beautiful forest. They enjoyed the view walking and holding hands, talking very little. Hermione was suffering inside for not being able to help and comfort Harry the way she would have liked to, but she didn’t show it. She had decided to play the cheerful part-for him.

Finally, when the sun was setting into the horizon, they went back to the chalet. Hermione opened the door and entered the living room. Immediately, she felt Harry’s hand on her arm and she turned to look at him. He approached her until they were very close. Hermione had never seen him so tall. He caressed her cheek.

“Hermione... All this time I haven’t thought about anything but you...” he said so softly, she had trouble hearing him.

She understood he was trying to apologize for what that damned war was doing to him. She embraced him. “I never stop thinking about you, either,” she said. “I’ve been worrying like crazy these six months, thinking that any minute you could...”

He didn’t let her go on. He kissed her. She felt the urgency in his kiss, and it was as she could feel the sadness and the fear he was feeling. She was going to comfort him and make him forget... At least for that night.

****

Although it was summer, nights were cold in the countryside. Harry lit the fireplace in the living room with his wand. He and Hermione were sitting on the rug covered only by a warm blanket. His arms were around her, and she had her head leaned against his bare chest.

“You’re so beautiful,” he muttered, kissing the top of her head.

Hermione blushed. “You have to say that because you’re sleeping with me,” she teased.

He laughed softly and hugged her tighter. They stared at the dancing flames for a while.

“They’re all dead,” Harry said suddenly.

“What?” she asked, turning around to look at him. She covered her chest with the blanket, but Harry didn’t notice. He was staring at the fire.

“Everyone from the network... The ones who worked with me...”

“Fleur...too?” asked Hermione in a whisper. She remembered the time she had thought Harry and Fleur were together. She had asked him about it in Lyon and Harry had laughed at the thought.

“Fleur, Hagrid, everyone... Except for Remus and me.” His voice was strangely flat. Hermione felt a rush of sadness, but she forced herself to be strong for him. She wanted to say something, but the words weren’t coming out. The fire reflected in Harry’s green eyes. “All dead,” he repeated. “Even Arthur and Molly.”

She gasped. “Mr. and Mrs. Weasley? They were in the network...?”

“No. They didn’t know what I did besides working with the Resistance. But yes, they died.”

It was pure luck that he wasn’t looking at her in that minute. She wiped the tears that were attempting to come out and spoke again. “Are you sure?”

“The FOS killed them in La Sante.”

“But why? Why?” she asked. She couldn’t understand how someone could have done that to the nicest people she had ever met.

“Among other things, they were responsible for trying to kill Slytherin. They were valuable people in the Resistance. They worked under my command,” Harry explained.

So he knew about Mr. Weasley’s activities from the beginning. He knew why they had taken him away... Obviously, she understood he couldn’t tell her. “I can’t imagine Mrs. Weasley...” she started.

“She was one of our best agents. No one would’ve suspected a loving mother...” Harry trailed off. Hermione put her hand on his, but he didn’t move. “I’m sure it was me... I led them to the FOS.”

“Don’t say that! This is not your fault,” Hermione said firmly.

Harry looked at her for the first time since they had started talking about the war. His green eyes had become darker. “Hermione... Almost everyone related directly to me inside the Resistance are dead.”

“That doesn’t mean anything,” she argued.

“Dead...” He repeated in a whisper.

“Ginny... too?” she asked, almost fearfully.

Harry looked down. “I don’t know. They never sent me back the information I requested, so I have no idea what happened to her.”

Hermione decided the conversation had to stop. Harry was almost breaking down. “Listen to me, Harry Potter.” He looked down at her. It was the first time she had spoken to him in that commanding way. “I don’t care what you think. You have saved so many lives, including mine. Those deaths are not because of you, but because of that stupid war. You are fighting for everyone. Never forget that, OK?”

Harry nodded, like a small child receiving a lesson from his mother. “I really don’t know what I would do without you,” he muttered.

“Well you don’t have to worry about that. You’ll always have me.”

***

The next day, Harry had accompanied her to her apartment. In the front door, Hermione kissed him, not wanting to say goodbye. Harry was about to disapparate, when he turned around.

“Hermione... I love you. Don’t ever doubt it.”

Hermione saw him leave with tears in her eyes. She closed the door behind her, and leaned against it. During the whole weekend she had forced herself to be strong no matter what. But now that she was alone, there was no need to pretend. She cried for hours. At first she cried for having to say goodbye to Harry. Then she cried for him, for the danger he was facing and the guilt that was tormenting him. She cried for Fleur and for Hagrid. For Mr. and Mrs. Weasley, and all their sacrifice. For their sons. For her best friend, Ginny, who was nowehere to be found...

**(End of Flashback)**

Hermione touched her face. It was wet. Dammit, she had promised she wouldn’t cry again for him. Of course, that was impossible. Almost every night - and day - she thought about him and ended like that.

She didn’t understand what had happened. Why had he stopped writing to her? She had searched for him, of course. Lady McGonagall had talked to a friend in the Resistance... The only information they had given her was that Harry’s reports arrived punctual in their deadlines. At least that meant he was alive and hadn’t been caught. She wrote him millions of letters, but he never replied. He had sent only three messages after their weekend together. None of them had more than one line.

What had happened was evident, but she didn’t want to admit it. Harry had moved on. She had only been an affair... One of those casual relationships that occurred during hard times, like war. Sure, he had told her he loved her, but wasn’t that what a gentleman should say in his situation? She had to forget him somehow...

*******

Draco visited her the next day, and the day after. When Hermione realized his intentions weren’t just friendly, her first reaction was back away. But then again, why should she do that? She was a single, young witch. She wasn’t commited to anyone, so she didn’t need to feel guilty for going out with a nice guy. So, determined to move on and slightly pressed by Lady MacGonagall - who said it was time she acted like a 21-year-old-girl - she accepted his invitations.

“What happened to that friend of yours? The pretty red-head... What was her name again?” asked Draco.

“Ginny Weasley,” said Hermione.

They were taking a walk through one of Madrid parks. She loved the autumn. The trees were dressed in yellow and red, and the cold breeze was refreshing. It was the fifth time she went out with Draco, but it was the first one they were having a serious conversation.

“The last thing I knew about her was she was in la Sante,” she replied finally.

“Oh,” Draco said. He didn’t want to turn their conversation into one about the war.

“I’ll find out about her when I go to Paris,” she added.

“You’re going to Paris?” He asked, surprised.

“Yes. Now that Slytherin doctrines have been removed there, I can go freely. I’d been wanting to go for a long time to look for my parents and for Ginny, but of course, that would’ve been suicide. Now it’s my chance.”

“Well, then, to Paris we’ll go,” he said, with his hands in his pockets.

“We?” she stopped and looked at him.

“You don’t think I’ll let you go alone, do you? In case you don’t know, there’s still a war out there.”

“But...” she protested.

“Shh. It’s decided. I’ll help you in your quest. I have nothing better to do anyway. And it could be a good opportunity for you and me to get... closer.”

Hermione knew very well what kind of closeness Draco wanted. In this time they had been ‘dating’ she had stopped his advances and left the relationship in a strictly platonic tone. However, he never stopped trying.

“Well, I guess I could use the help of a wizard as qualified as you,” she said, and then focused her attention in a group of children playing near them, to avoid his piercing stare.

*****

A/N: I know you’re wondering about Ginny. You’ll know what happened to her in the next chapter. So far the story has only focused on H/Hr relationship, but the real plot starts from now. And please, remember this is AU, so Draco is, as you could see, really OoC.

Bammaslama29: regarding to your question about Mrs. Ollivander, she’s separated from her husband because of the war. In times like that, people have a really hard time, so she moved to a neutral place and opened a store so she could help her husband. London (and all the UK) is going through a hard time because of Slytherin’s doctrins.

10. Lost and Found

Chapter 9 – Lost and Found

The first thing that Hermione did when she arrived to Paris was go directly to Daguerre Street. She asked Draco to look for any information he could about Ginny, while she would focus on her parents.

Her former home had been drastically changed. Daguerre had always been a muggle street, but now, without the Weasleys, it looked even more common. She knocked on the door and a woman with a very unfriendly face opened it.

“What do you want?” she asked sharply.

“Emm... I’m looking for the people who used to live here. The Grangers...”

“I don’t know them,” the woman said, shutting the door.

Hermione knocked again. The woman opened and gave her a death glare. “I was wondering if you could have any information about their whereabouts.”

“Do I look like a damn phone book?” the woman exclaimed. “I moved here a year ago, the house had been empty for almost two years before that. Now leave me alone or I’ll call the police!” She shut the door again.

Almost three years... That meant that her parents had moved a few months after she had left with Harry. She remembered the time she called and someone had told her they had moved... ‘Maybe they didn’t move... Maybe they were moved,’ she thought bitterly.

“Hermione!? Oh my God, dear child, I can’t believe it’s you!” a voice said from behind.

She turned around and saw that old Mrs. Figg was hobbling across the street. It was nice to see a familiar face.

“You’ve grown so much in these years! Your father told me you were going to some college in London! I always thought you were too smart to work in that shop...”

Hermione interrupted her. “Mrs. Figg, I’m looking for my parents. Do you know where they’ve moved to?”

Mrs. Figg gave her an odd look. “You don’t know where they are?”

Of course, she couldn’t explain they had lost contact due to a war. “Umm, I went on a trip to Thailand and lost contact with them...” That excuse was so lame!

If the old lady thought it was strange, she didn’t show it. “Well, I’m sorry, but I have no idea. Your parents moved shortly after you left, and I felt it a little odd that they didn’t say goodbye. One day, I noticed the house was on sale, but there wasn’t trace of them.”

Hermione felt her heart sank. Knowing her mother, she would’ve never left without saying goodbye to her neighbours. A painful anxiety started to overflow within her. She said goodbye hastily to Mrs. Figg and walked away as fast as she could from that street.

She tried the clinic where her parents worked as dentists, but they told her that one day, they had just stopped showing up at work.

The muggles couldn’t help her. Maybe the wizards...

Lady McGonagall had given her the adress of a friend who worked at the new Ministry of Magic that had been installed in France. They could have records about parents of muggle-borns. It was worth the try, anyway. She went downtown, to an owl post office and sent a letter to Lady McGonagall’s friend, a woman named Pince.

* * * *

The next day, she received an owl from the French Ministry of Magic. The letter was signed by Madame Pince, and it asked her to go that afternoon to her office to look for the information she had requested.

Draco spent most of the next few hours trying to calm Hermione, who was incredibly nervous. Finally, he decided to go with her, but waited outside.

Madame Pince was even older than Lady McGonagall, but was definitely scarier. She didn’t smile when Hermione introduced herself, only asking her to sit down.

“Very well, Miss Granger,” the woman said. She was entirely British. “If your parents had any contact with the FOS here in Paris, we’ll probably find something. They were very organized with their information.”

Hermione squeezed her robe tightly around her while the woman started poking around in the files. She wondered if it would’ve been faster if wizards used computers. While she was waiting she had an idea.

“Madame Pince?”

“Yes?” the woman said, without turning around.

“By any chance, do you have information about people participating... directly in the war?” she asked. She wasn’t sure if Harry’s activities were secret for some of Gryffindor allies.

“You mean in the Resistance?” Madame Pince asked.

“Yes, in the Resistance. I have a friend, and I haven’t had any news from him, so I was wondering...”

“Look, Miss Granger, I’m really making an exception for you, because common citizens aren’t allowed to have this kind of information, so I think it would be better if I just focus on finding your parents and not some lost boyfriend,” she said in a harsh voice.

Hermione nodded. She only kept her mouth shut because that woman was doing a huge favor for her...

“Here it is. Granger.” Madame Pince handed her a piece of parchment.

Hermione’s hands were trembling when she started reading. It was written in French. The FOS emblem, a silver snake surrounded by a green circle, was on top.

“In January of 1999, Albert H. Granger, muggle, and Susan D.Granger, muggle, were taken by our special agents into custody. The reason was the unfulfillment of the contract they had signed on November 1998, in which they had sworn they wouldn’t let their daughter, Hermione E. Granger, a mudblood, get out of the country in exchange of preferential treatment for her.”

Hermione gasped... November 1998, that was when her parents had been taken away for “interrogation”. They had signed a contract with the Ministry? But why would they do that? And why would the Ministry agreed to give “preferential treatment” to her...?

“The case was examined by our agents, and the sentence was execution for both of them. This was carried out a week later.”

The parchment fell to the floor. Her parents were dead... She had feared that, of course, but she hadn’t known that they were dead because of her. If she hadn’t left, they would be still alive. Now she understood why they had been so reluctant to leave France. She remembered her father’s face when he let her go with Harry that night...

“A lot of muggle-born parents were killed,” Madam Pince commented, with a softer voice. She handed Hermione a handkerchief.

Draco spent most of that day trying to comfort her, but it was useless. The guilt she felt wasn’t going to leave any time soon...

* * * *

“Hey, how are you today?” Draco asked that morning when she finally decided to leave her room. Her eyes were red and puffy.

She didn’t answer and sat down. “I know I have to keep going... I still have to look for Ginny.”

Draco grinned. “Well, I guess I can help you there,” He handed her a big envelope. “I found your friend. She’s alive, after all.”

Hermione looked at him, in disbelief and she opened yellowed piece of parchment. “Draco, how did you get this?”

“I have my contacts,” he said, shrugging.

“How am I going to pay you this?” she asked, starting to read the infromation.

“You can save your thanks for tonight,” he said, winking. “Anyway, I read some of that information... It seems that your friend has been through a lot in the past three years.”

* * * *

Rue Crepe was one of the poorest wizard neighborhoods in Paris. Three-floor buildings were accumulated one after the other. The street was dirty and the misery was evident. In one of those buildings, in the apartment 2-A (although the mark in the door had been stolen long ago) lived a young woman with red hair. With one look at her, anyone could tell she didn’t belong to that place. There was an aristocratic air around her, even though she wore rags. Maybe it was the way she lifted her chin or despised the others. She didn’t have any contact with the people around her... They were just scum in her opinion anyway.

Nobody knew her name, but they suspected she came from a wealthy family. The reason why she was there wasn’t a mystery to anyone. She had been accused of treason... She had probably collaborated in a way with the former Ministry, commanded by the FOS. Ever since the Resistance had liberated France, most of the people who had helped Slytherin or his people in any way had been put to a trial. It was likely this woman had been one of those bastards’ mistresses. Who knew for sure?

Ginny Weasley was aware that people commented about her. That’s why she kept to herself most of the time, inside her ridicolusly tiny apartment. She only went out for her job. She worked in a witch’s robe store. Her employer, Madame Vinya was a disgusting woman in Ginny’s opinion, but at least she had given her a job as a dependant without asking about her records. Vinya was smart enough to realize that Weasley, even though a British surname, belonged to an important family. So it gave some status to her store that her dependant was called a name that carried significance.

Ginny’s life had changed a lot in the past three years. After being a prisoner in La Sante... She still remembered what had happened. A few days after she promised to her father that she would make the traitor pay, one of the Wardens there had informed her that Arthur and Molly Weasley had been executed. She had made a vow to herself and to her parents that she would be strong and refused to let those people cause her further pain.

“Miss Weasley,” Goyle announced, with a scary smile. “Your parents were executed for treason against their country. We don’t think you’re involved in their affairs, but, nevertheless, we’ll give you a six months sentence here.”

“For what? Living in my house, with my parents?” she snorted.

“We don’t appreciate your attitude. You might have been rich and important in the past, but not anymore. Here, you are just a prisoner,” Goyle said. “The Warden in charge of you will be Vincent Crabbe.”

Vincent Crabbe was, by far, the worst thing that could ever happened to Ginny, and she realized that in the very minute they had met. Crabbe was a lustful, vicious man. He sold Ginny’s ‘favours’ to the other Wardens. Ginny had learned to deal with that; a month later she didn’t feel anything...

But she had only spent three months in La Sante when she was released. Viktor Krum, one of Slytherin’s Generals, had pulled some strings and got her out of there before her sentence had concluded. Ginny had heard about Krum from her father. The General was at least ten years older than her, and had a dry attitude towards people. He took her to his Manor, in the best part of Paris. He apologized for everything that had happened in La Sante. Ginny got the impression he didn’t completely agree with Slytherins methods, but politics was one subject that Krum never discussed at home.

Ginny had nowhere to go, so she accepted the protection that Krum offered her. He gave her jewerly and a wardrobe worthy of a queen. Soon, she realized he was in love with her. So, when he went one night to her room, she didn’t refuse his advances. Why would she? After being raped by every single warden in La Sante, she didn’t care if she had to share her bed with another man, as long as she would get to do what she wanted.

She spent those two years living that way, until one day, she realized she was pregnant. She didn’t want to have a child of a Slytherin ally, but Krum found out before she could do anything about it. He was thrilled about it and everyday, he gave her an expensive gift.

Nine months passed and the time to have her baby came. Krum was out of the country. Ginny knew that all the servants in the mansion despised her, so when she started screaming for help, no one came. Finally, one of the maids took pity on her and called a healer.

The old healer who came was a declared enemy of the Slytherin Goverment and didn’t seem very happy to take care of a British woman who was some General’s mistress. He only did it when he found out her last name was Weasley. It seemed that Ginny’s father had helped him a couple of years back.

The delivery was hard and painful. Ginny was losing a lot of blood and the healer didn’t have all the necessary elements to perform a cesarean section. The servants in the house weren’t very helpful either. Ginny wasn’t going to beg to them. She was too prideful.

Finally, a baby boy was born. He cried with all the might of his lungs, and, despite herself, Ginny felt her face wet with tears. After seeing he was OK, she passed out and didn’t wake until the next morning. The healer had left a note with the special care she needed. “It was a miracle you survived, lady. I guess God can be unfair sometimes.” The note ended.

Krum was incredibly happy with his son’s birth, which Ginny had named Daniel. But a couple of months later, the Gryffindor troops attacked Paris and defeated the FOS lines. The Liberation had come. By that time, Ginny didn’t care much about Gryffindor’s cause. Why should she worry about muggle-borns rights when she wasn’t one of them? But her heart was filled of hatred for the FOS, so she was happy when she heard they would be punished for their crimes.

Of course, Krum was taken prisoner as well. He was a General under Slytherin’s command, even though Ginny knew he was against his doctrine. Krum was taken to jail, but he killed himself a couple of days later, before the trial. She suspected that he had “been suicided” by his old mates from the FOS. Her luck wasn’t much better. She was accused of treason against her country. The mansion where she lived was taken and she was forced to leave with only her child, leaving behind all her clothes and jewerly. Even when she was leaving, and the servants of the house spat on her, she kept her head high. She was a Weasley, and she wasn’t going to lose her dignity, no matter what. She secluded herself in that rathole that was Rue Crepe and started her new life as an outcast, despised by both Gryffindor and Slytherin’s allies...

The six month old baby boy shifted in the box that Ginny had been using as his cradle. She gave him a sad look and took him in her arms. That boy was the only thing she had left...

A soft knock in the door startled her. Was one of those nasty neighbours to bother her again?

“Go away!” she yelled.

“Ginny? Is that you?” a woman’s voice asked.

Ginny whirled around. No one there knew her name... Who could it be? She left Daniel in his box, and opened the door slightly. There was a woman standing outside. She was shorter than her, with long, brown, bushy hair, and big cinammon eyes.

“Ginny? It’s me, Hermione... Hermione Granger...” she said softly.

A/N: Now you know a little more about what what has Ginny been doing. I’ll post the next chapter right away because this one was too short.

Thanks to Emily for her beta reading!

11. Friends that Come and Go

Chapter 10 – Friends that Come and Go

Ginny opened the door completely and stared at her, surprised. “What are you doing here, Hermione?” was her dry salute.

Hermione looked a little taken aback by her reaction, but, nevertheless, she hugged her friend. “Thank God, Ginny! I was so afraid I wouldn’t find you here! You don’t know how much I...”

Ginny motioned her to come in and closed the door. She gave her a cold look. “What are you doing here? Taking a little walk around the best neighborhood in Paris?”

Hermione’s smile faded a little. “I was looking for you,” she said, looking at Ginny’s narrowed eyes. She hadn’t changed very much, even though all she had been through. She was still gorgeous and glamorous. She was dressed in a dusty robe, but on her, it looked like a top designer piece. However, there was something different in her eyes. They were cold and hard. Ginny had never been very sweet, but at least with Hermione, she had been friendly. Now, she was staring at her as if she was the worst of all plagues.

Ginny was having mixed feelings at that moment. She couldn’t deny the relief she felt when she heard Hermione’s voice and saw her standing there. She was the only friend she had ever had, and meeting with her, after four years, was... But still, she was embarrased. She was living in a dump, for Christ’s sake!

“Is that your baby?” Hermione asked suddenly, noticing the boy in the wooden box. He was awake, and was staring at the stranger with wide black eyes.

“My dear friend, does this place look like a Kindergarden to you?” Ginny asked coldly. Inside, she was wondering how the hell Hermione knew she had a child.

“What’s his name?” Hermione asked, looking at the baby excitedly.

“Daniel. Are you interested in any other details? He is the son of General Viktor Krum,” she added, leaning against one of the rusty walls.

Hermione eyed her friend. She was serious and cold, but her eyes showed fear. She thought of a frightened mouse chased by a cat... What had those monsters done to her? What had happened in La Sante? She turned to look at the baby. He was so serious and quiet...

“Hi, Daniel, cuchi, cuchi,” she said, tickling him softly.

“How did you find us?” Ginny asked.

“Draco Malfoy helped me,” Hermione answered, still focused on the baby.

“And who might that be?” the red-headed asked, raising an eyebrow.

“Don’t you remember? We met him at your house. That afternoon, when... Harry Potter brought him along.”

If Ginny noticed that Hermione’s voice changed slightly when she mentioned Harry’s name, she didn’t show it. Instead, she frowned. “Now that you mention it... I think I remember that Harry went to my house with a blond guy.”

“That’s Draco,” Hermione pointed.

Daniel shifted, uncomfortable, in his box. Ginny hated the fact that Hermione could see where her son slept. But Hermione didn’t seem to care, and was too busy trying to entertain him. After a lot of funny faces, the boy smirked. Hermione laughed at her success.

“Can I hold him?” she asked, turning to look at Ginny.

Ginny had never let anyone to hold Daniel besides her. Not even after his birth, when she was still weak after the complicated delivery. She approached to the cradle and picked him up, hugging him protectively. Hermione smiled, and caressed the boy’s cheek.

“So...” Hermione started. “How have you been?”

“How do you think?” Ginny said, pacing.

Hermione remained silent for a while. She was tired of Ginny’s attitude. But after all, she was an unexpected guest... And Ginny had probably suffered a lot...

“I’m sorry, that was a stupid thing to ask.”

Ginny gave her a look. “Come on, let’s take a walk,” she said.

Hermione followed her through the dirty street until they reached a small park. Ginny was holding Daniel, who had fallen asleep. It was almost winter, but the breeze was very refreshing and the day was warm and inviting.

“Ginny...” said Hermione, softly, “Do you want to talk about what happened in La Sante, about Viktor Krum or the Liberation?”

Ginny was aching to tell Hermione everything... She wanted to trust her... But she was so ashamed of everything that had happened that she couldn’t bear it. How could she put in words the horrors she had lived in La Sante and the life she had had after, with Krum?

“What do you want me to tell you? La Sante was crowded with FOS agents. Krum was my lover. And you certainly don’t need me to describe my present life.”

That was enough for Hermione to shut her mouth, until they reached a small cafe. Hermione had a quick flashback of the time she went with Harry to one of those places, after she had told him about the Weasley’s disappearence. She invited Ginny to eat something.

When they sat down, Ginny finally let Hermione hold Daniel. The baby sat on her lap happily and grabbed a piece of bread. Ginny was starving. However, she ate very little. She didn’t want Hermione to think she was impressed with a plate of food.

Hermione talked about Beauxbatons and Daguerre most of the time. Finally, she gathered the courage to ask something that had been on her mind since she had learned about Ginny.

“It must be terrible... being punished by the FOS, and then by Gryffindor’s allies... Aren’t you angry?”

Ginny sighed. “Yes,” she admitted. “But that anger is nothing compared to what I feel towards the bastard that betrayed my father and turned him in.”

“Do you have any idea of who might have been?”

“No, but I will find out, even if it takes me my whole life to do it, and I mean that with the most sincerity I have left,” she said with determination.

“And what are you planning to do now?” Hermione asked, looking at Daniel.

“Well, right now I can’t do much... I’m working in a store, but that woman doesn’t pay very well at all. If I could save something, I could rent another apartment and take Daniel out of there, but everything I earn is spent to keep surviving like this...”

“Ginny, you can’t go through this alone...”

“And what do you want me to do? Ask my parents for help?” she asked in a cold way that surprised Hermione.

“What about your brothers?”

“I couldn’t stand if they find out how I’m living, Hermione. It’s too embarrassing. I don’t want them to know I lived with Krum, or that I have a child...”

“Not even Ron?” asked Hermione. She knew that Ginny had always been closer to Ron than to the rest of her brothers.

Ginny took a sip of her water and tucked a strand of red hair behind her ear. “I guess that little report you read didn’t tell you everything, after all...”

“What do you mean?”

“Ron is dead.”

Hermione blinked in disbilief. Ron Weasley... dead? She couldn’t believe it. That nice, funny guy she had met a couple of years ago?

“How did you...” she mouthed, because the words didn’t come out.

“Krum told me... He was killed in action, the report said. Two years ago.” Ginny’s eyes were fixed in the table. Her voice was flat and it was hard to guess what she was feeling.

Hermione ran a hand through her hair. Ron was dead. Ron was Harry’s friend... More than that, he was his partner... They worked together... Could it be...? But no, that was impossible. He was sending his reports in on time, every single one of them. She wanted to ask Ginny, but she was too afraid of the answer.

“I could lend you some money,” Hermione said, deciding to change the subject.

“Very generous of you, Granger,” Ginny said, avoiding her look.

“Don’t be ridiculous, Ginny. We’ve known each other for years. You’re my best friend. I want to help you. How much do you need?”

Ginny thought for a while. She didn’t like charity. She hated the fact that Hermione was talking to her as if she actually needed anything from her. Maybe if she asked for something difficult, she would put her back in her place. “300 Galleons,” she said finally. She had noticed Hermione’s outfit. She couldn’t be more than a secretary by the looks of it.

Hermione earned seventy galleons a month. She had some money saved, but it wasn’t enough, considering she had to pay her own rent. However, withought even doubting it, she nodded.

“I’ll bring them tomorrow to your house.”

* * *

Hermione wasn’t very fond of asking money from other people, but it was the only way she could have three hundred galleons by tomorrow. She sent owls to Lady McGonagall and Remus Lupin. She didn’t explain why she needed the money, but she attached with the letter a signed contract that she would return every single knut back to whomever she owed. Draco didn’t have any money to lend her, which wasn’t a surprise at all. She went to the Gringotts bank in Paris, and after about ten interviews with different grumpy goblins, she was able to reunite the money before night fell.

She had promised Draco she would go out with him that night, to thank him for his efforts in the search of Ginny. But Draco wasn’t planning to go out. He led her to his hotel room.

“What are we doing here?” she asked, trying to keep her voice cool. “I thought we were going to have dinner...”

“We are,” Draco said, smirking, “I’ve ordered room service. I thought that, maybe, you wouldn’t be in the mood to go out.”

‘Yeah, right’ Hermione thought, feeling very uncomfortable all of the sudden.

“Sit down, chiquita,” Draco motioned to a chair he had put in front of a small round table with a lot of food. ‘Chiquita’ was the nickname he had chosen for her, since they had met again in Spain... Hermione didn’t like it very much, but she wasn’t going to complain. Draco was her friend, after all, and had helped her a lot through these hard times... Actually, it was the only person Hermione had now, since Ginny didn’t seem too keen in recovering their lost friendship, and her parents were dead; and Harry... ‘Stop thinking about him,’ Hermione scolded herself.

Draco poured some wine in her glass. Hermione didn’t enjoy drinking, but she thought it would be rude to reject what he had prepared so kindly, so she accepted. They made some small talk during dinner. Half past eleven, Hermione was feeling a little dazed and stood up.

“Everything was great, thank you Draco,” she stated, walking towards the door.

“Hey, wait,” he stooped her, grabbing her arm gently. “Where are you going? The fun is just starting...”

She was perfectly aware of their closeness. Draco’s gaze was studying her, and she felt the urgency to run... But he was her friend... Draco caressed her cheek, and Hermione backed away immediately.

“Draco...” she muttered. Her knees were weak, and the room was a little blurry. She shouldn’t have accepted to drink that wine...

“Come on, don’t be afraid,” he said, gently, embracing her. He kissed the top of her head and chuckled softly. “This is what I like about you... Your virginal attitude... Making me wait...”

Hermione was starting to have a headache... Virginal? Why did Draco imagine that she was a virgin? But she didn’t have the strength to correct him. Of course, telling him that, would have meant he would ask about her partner... And talking, or thinking about Harry was the last thing she wanted to do right then. Too late. She realized that Draco was now bending over to kiss her...

Hermione closed her eyes, and opened them again, trying to focus her mind... A pair of green eyes were looking back at her. Harry’s face. Harry’s glasses. Harry’s hair. He was the one bending over to kiss her and she accepted him immediately. But as soon as their mouths touched she snapped out of her daydream and realized it was Draco – not Harry – the one she was kissing. She tried to pull back, but now he was kissing her more forcefully, leading her towards the king sized bed.

Why was she letting him go on? Why couldn’t she find the strength to fight against him? What would Harry think...? ‘Harry has nothing to say in this... He left you. It’s time to move on, Hermione. Do it for yourself. You’ll never get over him if you keep rejecting every guy that comes close to you...’ her mind was screaming.

Draco was now kissing her neck. A rush of disgust came over to her, and she almost felt like throwing up. With the last strength she had, she pushed him away and stood up, almost tripping in the process.

“I’m sorry, I can’t do this...” she muttered, moving to the door.

Draco had fallen flat on his butt, and was staring at her from the floor, with a mix of anger and confusion in his grey eyes.

“You can’t leave...” he said, trying to stand up, “Why are you doing this to me?”

“I’m sorry,” she said again, grabbing the knob of the door. She really was. Draco was a nice guy... But Harry was still too present in her heart.

“If you walk out of this room, we’re through, do you hear me?! We’re through!” he yelled.

Hermione wiped a tear from the corner of her eye and shut the door behind her, leaving a very upset Draco Malfoy behind.

***

The next morning, she went to Ginny’s apartment very early. Ginny was about to leave for work so she didn’t invite her in. Hermione handed her the money.

“Wow... I didn’t think you would actually make it,” Ginny said, staring at the three hundred galleons in her hands. She felt bad for the way she had thought the day before... Hermione had actually given her the money... How come she was in that situation? Four years ago, she was the rich girl and Hermione was just a poor muggle-born who hardly had money to buy a decent robe. And now, she was receiveing charity from her... If Ginny hadn’t been in such a desperate situation, she would have never accepted her help.

Hermione just nodded. She wished her friend would stop treating her in such a business-like way.

“I’ll pay you back,” Ginny said.

“Don’t worry about it. Just pay me when you can,” Hermione said. She wanted to hug her friend, let her know that she was still there for her as she had been in the past, but she was too afraid of her coldness.

“Well... I guess I’ll see you again,” the red headed said.

“I’m going back to Spain today,” Hermione said. “But you can write me anytime you want... Or maybe you should move there too...”

“Right. Well, goodbye.”

***

When Hermione got back to the hotel, she found a note in her beside table.

“Chiquita,

I’m really sorry about what happened yesterday. I guess I wasn’t myself, I shouldn’t have rushed you... Anyway, I hope you won’t shut me out of your life and will forgive this blockhead you have for a friend.

See you back at Madrid.

Love,

Draco Malfoy”

Hermione smiled. That was her friend.

That same afternoon, she went back to Madrid, feeling a lot better. She had accomplished the two missions she had: finding her parents and Ginny. Her parents were dead, and that still was something she couldn’t cope with, but at least she had been able to help her friend...

A/N: I know you are all wondering about Harry’s whereabouts. Don’t worry, you’ll know soon and also the reasons why he hasn’t showed up until now.

I’m sorry for “killing” Ron. And I hope you are able to understand Ginny’s attitude.

12. Time to Move On

Chapter 11 – Time to Move on

February, 2002

Hermione was sitting in her small office in Lady McGonagall’s manor, carefully writing a bunch of cards her boss wanted to send. She had had another sleepless night, and had spent half of the time feeling guilty because of her parent’s death, and the other half thinking, yet again, about Harry.

She had sent him another letter a little after returning to Madrid. She had told him about her parents and Ginny. Of course, she hadn’t expected an answer, but now, three months later, she had totally given up hope. She had tried to contact Ginny, but she hadn’t answered her letters either, although at least she was sure Ginny was receiving them.

Hermione and Draco were sort of a couple now. They went out together almost everyday, and Draco had stopped dating other girls, while Hermione didn’t even think about seeing another guy. However, she still kept him away, not ready to give him her love... The one that belonged to Harry.

Sighing, she turned her gaze to the parchment again. If she continued like that, she would never finish. Just when she had managed to write four lines without interruptions she heard a loud scream coming from the hall. Half a second later, there were several people screaming, something that sounded much like “Hurrah!!”

She ran to the Hall to see what had happened and found all the people who worked for Lady McGonagall, a bunch of her friends – very important people, and some of them were surely part of the Resistance – Lady McGonagall herself, and, among them, Draco Malfoy. They were laughing and hugging each other.

“Chiquita!!” Draco yelled, hugging her so tight that she found it hard to breathe. Then, he laughed at her perplexed look. “Don’t you know?”

“Obviously not...” Lady McGonagall interrupted; grinning in a way that Hermione would’ve never thought it was possible. “The war is over! We won!” she added.

“Wha-?” What she was saying slowly sank in in Hermione’s mind. “We...won?”

“Slytherin has fallen,” Draco said hastily. “The FOS has been wiped out and Gryffindor’s troops have taken over the Ministry. We’re free! We can go back to England anytime!”

Hermione soon joined the happy, small crowd. Finally, the nightmare was over. She would be able to go wherever she wanted, without having to take extra precautions...

‘I wonder how Harry’s feeling...’ that thought crossed her mind, but she did her best to push it away.

Half an hour later, when they were still celebrating, a small owl came flying through the window and gave a letter to Hermione.

“What’s this?” she opened it, quickly. It was from Ginny.

“Hermione,

I’m really sorry to bother you, but I need you to come here right now. Im living in Saint Ouen, 245, department 301.

Ginny Weasley”

It looked as if Ginny had written the note in a rush and Hermione became worried. It didn’t say anything, but she had a bad feeling. She asked Lady McGonagall permission to travel to France that afternoon.

“Of course, dear, take as much time as you want!” the old woman said, too happy to care about work.

Draco was eagerly chatting with a group of gentlemen, and Hermione didn’t bother him. She apparated into her apartment, gathered a few belongings and parted to the Ministry, where she would take the Floo Network to Paris.

While she was waiting there, she saw many wizards coming from the fireplaces. It was obvious they had been fighting in the war, and now were returning safely to their homes. Too late she realized she was looking for a tall, dark-haired man with glasses. She scolded herself severely. ‘He’s not coming back,’ she repeated for a millionth time.

****

Saint Ouen, although better in every way than Rue Crepe, wasn’t at all a nice place to live. What surprised Hermione the most was that it was a Muggle neighborhood. Surely, Ginny had gotten tired of the cold stares that Wizards gave her because of being a “collaborator” of the Slytherin regimen.

She knocked on the door and Ginny opened right away. She was pale and it seemed that she hadn’t slept in days.

“Ginny... What’s wrong?”

“I’m sorry I had to drag you to this hellhole, Hermione... But you were the only person I could think of.”

Hermione took off her cloak and followed Ginny to a small bedroom where Daniel – who had grown a lot in the last three months – was lying in a bed. He was sleeping, but his face was very pale.

“He’s sick,” Ginny said, and Hermione noticed the deep concern in her voice.

Hermione sat on the bed and put her hand on Daniel’s forehead. It was so hot, she had the impression he was burning. “He’s got a really high fever...”

“Really? I hadn’t noticed,” Ginny snorted. She didn’t want to be sarcastic in a time like this, but she couldn’t help it.

Hermione ignored her. “We should call a doctor... I mean, a healer.”

“I got news for you, Hermione. I’m an outcast in this country. No decent healer would want to help the son of a Slytherin General. I already tried. The only one who looked willingly to do it wanted me to pay him five hundred galleons.”

“I could take him,” Hermione suggested.

“I don’t think it’s a good idea for him to leave the house.”

Hermione nodded. Ginny was right. A change of temperature could only agravate Daniel’s state. She thought for a moment. She didn’t have five hundred galleons... And then, she thought of someone who would be able to help them.

*****

“Where were you?” Ginny asked when Hermione came back ten minutes later.

“I went to floo Draco. He’ll bring a healer, a friend of his. Don’t worry, everything will be alright,” she assured her. Ginny gave her a thankful look, but she didn’t make any comments. “Since when has he started to be like this?” Hermione asked, turning to look at the small boy again.

“About five days ago. The fever only got worse last night, though.”

“You should have called me sooner. Gin, I want to help you. You’re the only person I have left.”

“Really? What about your parents?” asked Ginny. They hadn’t talked much about the years they had spent apart.

“They died...” Hermione said, feeling the too familiar pang of guilt. “Soon after I left France, the FOS killed them... It’s my fault. I shouldn’t have abandoned them.”

“Don’t be stupid,” Ginny said, a little harshly. “It’s not your fault, it’s theirs, those bastards!”

Hermione looked at her friend. Of course, she knew how she felt. Her parents had died in the hands of the FOS as well...

“I feel guilty too,” Ginny continued, sighing. “But not for their death... I feel guilty because the scum that betrayed my father hasn’t received his punishment.”

Hermione remembered that Ginny had made a vow she would find the person who had turned her father in. “Do you really believe revenge will make you happy?” she asked softly.

“I don’t know. But it certainly will make me feel better,” Ginny answered, a strange glint appearing in her eyes.

“It’s just that... after all that has happened, it sounds so... useless.”

“Trust me, when I’m over with him and his family, it won’t be useless at all.”

It was depressing to hear her friend talking like that, so Hermione decided to drop the subject. She thought Ginny was saying all that due to the hard life she was having, and she would change her mind when things got better.

Daniel woke up, crying, and Hermione took him in her arms, trying to calm him down. She tried to ignore the fact that Daniel’s body was trembling.

“He’s dying,” muttered Ginny, darkly.

Hermione shook her head with violence, but inside, she realized it was true. If Daniel didn’t receive medical attention soon, he was going to die. She lied the boy down in the bed again. In her few days with Remus, he had taught her a good spell to lower the fever, and she tried it on Daniel.

The boy stopped crying and fell asleep again.

Ginny and Hermione waited in silence for half an hour. Hermione was pleading silently. ‘Please, please, don’t let him die... Ginny was gone through so much already. Please, let Draco be here soon...’

As if on cue, a loud knock on the door startled both of them. Ginny exchanged a look with her, and opened the door.

Draco Malfoy stepped in, followed by a man about his age, who was wearing a blue cloak.

“Draco, thank God you’re here,” Hermione said.

“We came as fast as we could. This is Seamus Finnigan,” he said. Then, he turned to Ginny. “Hi, I’m Draco Malfoy, do you remember me?”

Ginny nodded impatiently and led Seamus to where Daniel was. Seamus examined the boy while Hermione made some tea for Ginny and Draco. After a long hour, the Healer came to the living room.

“Someone cast a fever-healing spell on him,” he said.

“I did,” Hermione said, slightly worried. Had she done something wrong?

“You probably saved his life with that,” Seamus said, smiling. “I already treated him; now all we have to do is wait. If he stays tonight night without fever, he’ll be alright.”

* * *

Daniel was sound asleep. Ginny and Hermione were both sitting on the edge of the bed, watching him. Draco and Seamus had returned to Spain, but Hermione had stayed there to be with Ginny just in case something happened.

“I wonder,” Ginny started after a long silence, “how fast would that man, Finnigan, had come if he knew who was Daniel’s father.”

“He’s a good man,” Hermione said.

“Sure he is. That’s probably the reason why he would despise his origins...”

Hermione didn’t want to talk about the war again. That was over now. They had to look forward, to the future.

“I’ve never really asked you,” Ginny said, looking at her, “what’s going on between you and Draco? Are you two together?”

Hermione sighed. “Not really. I mean, he’s a good guy, and I really love him, but...”

“You’re not in love with him,” Ginny completed. “Geez, you haven’t changed a bit. You’re always the romantic one. You should be happy that a man cares for you. He’s good looking and treats you well, what more could you want? Besides, you’re never going to find the Prince Charming you’re waiting for.”

Hermione closed her eyes for a brief moment. “I did.” Ginny’s eyes widened. “I’m in... I was in love with a man... But he stopped writing. I haven’t heard from him in a long time.”

She didn’t want to tell Ginny who she was talking about. She wasn’t sure how she would take it. And, somehow, keeping her love for Harry as her own, private secret was way better than having eveybody pitying her.

“Do you know what Daniel needs?” Ginny said, changing the subject drastically. “He needs to go to England... to his country.”

“Then why don’t you move there, Gin? Now that the war is over...”

“I don’t have permission to enter England. I’m a traitor, remember? And as long as Daniel is mine and Krum’s son, he’ll be a traitor, too.”

“What about your brothers?” Hermione insisted. During the last three months, she had been debating with herself, considering if she should write to Bill and the others to let them know that their sister was alive, but she had chosen not to. Ginny would never forgive her.

“I already told you, I don’t want them to know I have a child, and everything that happened with Viktor Krum.”

Hermione sighed. She wanted to ask her so badly, but she was afraid. Finally, she decided to do it. It was time to confront reality. “What about Harry Potter?” she asked, pronouncing his full name so that Ginny would not suspect. She dropped the question as casually as she could, as if she had the impression that Ginny and Harry had been in contact this whole time.

“Harry?” Ginny repeated, slowly.

“Haven’t you had news from him?” Hermione held her breath waiting for her answer.

“Sure, last week I received his last letter,” Ginny replied.

Hermione swallowed hard. “Where has he been?”

“Las time we wrote to me, he was in London. Very busy, he said. But, he’s been having a lot of fun, I’d say... He told me about quite a bunch of girls he’d been dating.”

Hermione’s laughed forcefully. “So many girls?”

“Well, he mentions one in particular. I think they’re pretty serious. Maybe she’ll be his first wife,” Ginny said, shrugging.

“I’m sure he’d like to help you and Dan-”

“-He doesn’t know that Daniel exists.”

“But if you told him, he would-”

“-I’m not telling him. And I’m not asking him anything, either. I don’t want to talk about this again.”

* * *

When Hermione left Ginny’s apartment that morning, she had to lean on the closed door for support. She wasn’t sure how she had managed to keep a straight face all the time, but now that she didn’t have to pull an act, the sadness and feeling that she had been betrayed was overwhelming.

How could Harry do something like that to her? He could at least have told her their relationship was over! That way she wouldn’t have spent the last three years suffering and waiting for him... And she had been stupid enough to worry about the dangers he was facing!

It was her fault... She had been naive enough to fall in love with Harry Potter, the famous and rich wizard that every single witch on the planet adored. It was so stupid to think he would pick her over them!

She was going to forget him.

* * *

Ginny closed the door behind Hermione, feeling horrible. Why she had lied in that way to her? She hadn’t got a clue about Harry’s whereabouts. Last time she had seen him had been in her house, four years ago.

Deep down, she knew the reason. She needed to feel superior to Hermione, at least in one way. She wanted to show her that someone did care for her, besides Hermione. That a guy as important as Harry Potter always had her on his mind...

Or it was she the one who wanted to believe that?

* * *

Hermione arrived to her apartment in Madrid really late that night. She had been wandering through the streets, thinking about all the time she had lost loving a man that obviously didn’t care about her. If she had asked Ginny sooner, she maybe could have moved on by now...

She knew that wasn’t true. She would never forget about Harry.

“I was worried about you. Where have you been?” Draco’s voice came from her living room.

“I’m sorry, I stayed until I was sure that Daniel was all right,” she said. Of course, she didn’t mention that that had been early in the morning.

“I’m glad. Why do you have such a gloomy face, then?”

Hermione decided to tell him about Ginny’s worries about her son as an excuse. How Ginny wanted him to live in England, but couldn’t bring him there and the miserable life that awaited him as the son of a traitor.

Draco listened to her. He paced around the room, and then turned to Hermione, a wide smile on his face.

“I have an idea,” he said. “Why don’t we take him to England?”

“What? How?”

“Let’s get married.” Hermione’s eyes widened in shock, but Draco kept talking. “We can adopt him as our own son and raise him until your friend is able to go to England. What do you say?”

“Draco, I...”

“Listen, I know that you don’t love me the way I love you. But that’s fine. I’ll make sure you fall in love with me with in a little time. And we’ll save Daniel’s life.” He got on his knee.

Hermione couldn’t believe what she was hearing. Draco was proposing to her? It was a crazy idea... But it was a good chance to help Daniel...

She remembered what Ginny had told her about Harry. She would never love a man again. And Draco was a good friend. He loved her, and she loved him, in her own way...

“Will you marry me, Hermione Granger?” he asked, again. “You can take your time. A whole minute... Even two.”

Hermione couldn’t help but laugh. Draco was adorable.

“I will,” she said finally.

It was time to move on...

* * *

A/N: Sorry for the late update. As always, I have to thank Emily for helping me out with the grammar and vocabulary.

I know, because I’m a Pumpkin Pie Shipper just like all of you, that you probably don’t like what happened here. Trust me, it is necessary for the plot, so please be patient. Don’t forget that this is and H/Hr fic and it’s up in Portkey for a reason.

Next chapter: we’ll know about Harry (At last!! We’ve been missing him!)

13. A Twist of Fate

Chapter 12 – A Twist of Fate

March 2002

Ginny walked through the street, barely noticing where she was stepping. It was a cold March evening. She tightened the thin cloak she was wearing around her, but it didn’t help much. It wasn’t her body that was the cold one, it was her heart.

It had been a month since Hermione and Draco had gotten married and had taken Daniel to live with them in London. She remembered perfectly the day that Hermione had suggested Draco and her could adopt Daniel for a while, until she was able to go to England. At first, Ginny had told her that she was crazy. She had even kicked her out of her apartment. But after a whole, hard and long night of thinking, she had realized it was the best for her son. He would have a way better life with the Malfoys... And, one day, she would go to look for him.

She couldn’t think of anyone better than Hermione to take care of Daniel. But still, it hurt her deeply to let him go like that. She felt like a big part of her had been torn out of her body... And she felt jealous of Hermione, and the way that Daniel loved her.

She had sent her several pictures. In all of them, Hermione and Daniel waved happily to her. Daniel didn’t have that sickened look anymore. He was a healthy, British boy, just the way he should always have been.

Finally, she reached her awful building. Madame Jeux, one of her neighbors – whom Ginny despised deeply – glared at her.

“Hey you, red head,” she said, in French. “A man is waiting for you upstairs. You should know that we don’t allow whores to live in this building.”

“Really? Then what are you doing here?” Ginny snapped, angrily.

She didn’t stay to hear the woman’s retort. She wasn’t really curious about who was waiting for her. Actually, she was used to receiving visits from her customer’s husbands, who had the strange idea that she would actually accept them in her bed in exchange for money.

She spotted a tall, cloaked man, leaning against the wall, beside her door. She sighed, ready to tell that man off, when he turned to look at her. Her mouth dropped.

“Ha...Harry!?”

He looked so different... He was so thin that the clothes he was wearing looked too big on him. He looked really tired, and his eyes weren’t as shiny as they had been. His left arm was covered in bandages.

“I didn’t mean to scare you, Gin, but it was so hard for me to find you that I didn’t want to wait...” his voice was deeper, softer.

But just hearing that voice was enough for her to realize one thing. She was still in love with him. It was amazing that after all that had happened, she was still able to have such a feeling for someone.

She ran to him and hugged him. She wanted to be sure he was for real, not a ghost... He was even thinner than he had looked. He winced when she pressed his arm and she broke apart, looking at him in the eyes.

“I can’t believe it...” she whispered.

Harry smiled weakly. Ginny opened her door hastily, and they entered in her apartment. She turned on the lights.

“You’ve grown. You look beautiful,” he said.

“Well, thanks,” she laughed softly at his compliment.

“I was afraid they might have hurt you in La Sante.”

“They did,” she said, taking out her coat. “What about you? What happened to your arm?”

“It’s a long story...”

* * *

Ginny listened to him without breathing. He had been through much all this time...

“It’s over now,” he said, when she asked him if he had suffered. “Gin... I learned about Arthur and Molly... I can’t tell you how sorry I am... They were like my family.”

“You knew they were working for the Resistance.” It wasn’t a question.

He closed his eyes, and then nodded slowly.

“I should’ve expected from my dad...” she muttered, giving him another cup of tea. “But mum...”

Harry sighed. “There’s not a minute when I don’t wonder... if maybe I said, or did, something that led them to the FOS...”

Ginny stared at him, not knowing what to say. Harry’s expression was guilty and full of sorrow.

“I... They were under my command,” he said, slowly.

She remembered the state they were in the last time she had seen them. His father beaten up; her mother not even able to stand up. Her eyes filled with tears. Harry noticed this and panicked.

“Gin... Please, don’t get like this,” he pleaded.

He sat beside her. Ginny started crying while she told him everything that had happened in La Sante. Harry clenched his fists, furious of not having been able to help her. Then, she told him about Krum...

“Do you hate me now?” she asked.

“God, no,” he said, embracing her tenderly. He was just as destroyed as she was, and the feeling that they were sharing something no one else would understand made her feel at ease. Suddenly, she wanted to tell him about Daniel’s existence. But something stopped her.

“Ginny, why are you all alone? What about your brothers?” he asked, after a while.

“They don’t know I’m here. They are all Gryffindor allies, Harry, how do you think they’d feel if they knew I was Krum’s lover?”

“They don’t have to know that if you don’t want them to.”

She paused. The real reason for staying apart from them had been Daniel. Once again, she was tempted to tell him about her son, but that was when Harry said “At least you’re lucky you didn’t have a child.”

Ginny felt her heart sank. For some odd reason, she felt the urge to hurt Harry for saying that. Even when he didn’t know anything...

“My dad told me about you and the Resistance,” she said, without thinking.

Harry sat up. “He did?”

“The last time I saw him alive...”

“What did he say?” he asked, quietly.

“Goyle... The FOS agent, told my dad that they were following your steps,” she lied, feeling terrible for it.

Harry’s expression when he heard this was, by far, the worse she had seen on him ever. He stood up, shakily.

“They were following my steps... And that’s how they reached Arthur?” he asked, his eyes so dark that there wasn’t anymore green in them.

Uncapable to lie to his face again, Ginny just nodded and looked away.

* * *

Half an hour passed. Ginny went to the kitchen and cooked something for her and Harry. He was sitting in the living room, with his head in his hands. Why had she said that to him?

He heard him pace in the room for a while. Suddenly, his steps stopped.

“What’s this?” he asked, his voise tense.

Ginny got out of the kitchen to see what he was talking about. He was looking at a picture she had hung on the wall... The one that Hermione had sent her a couple of days ago. Her friend and the child waved to them, smiling broadly.

Harry grabbed the picture and stared at it. He was pale. Ginny felt a twitch in her stomach. Had Harry noticed something in Daniel that could indicate he was Ginny’s son? That couldn’t be... He was too much like his father, there wasn’t anything Weasley in him.

“That’s... my old friend, don’t you remember her? Hermione Granger... Or should I say, Hermione Malfoy.”

Harry’s eyes widened slightly, but Ginny didn’t notice. She was staring at the picture too, as if she could tell it to keep her secret. “She... got married?” he asked in a whisper.

“With Draco Malfoy. Actually, you were the matchmaker. You introduced them at my house, four years ago.”

He paused. “Is this... their kid?”

“Not exactly. They’re such good people, that they adopted a war orphan.” She smiled slightly and stretched her arm for him to give the picture back.

But he didn’t let it go. “How long... When did they get married?”

If Ginny hadn’t been so worried about Harry discovering that Daniel was her son, she would’ve have make a connection and realized why he was so interested in the picture. But the thought that Harry and Hermione had seen each other, apart from that time at her house, never crossed her mind.

“Harry, are you all right?” she asked, worried.

“How long?” he repeated.

“Last month... But they went out most of the time she spent Spain,” she added, although she wasn’t sure if that was right. “Somehow, Hermione escaped from Paris. Her parents were killed by the FOS. She was lucky, I guess,” Ginny explained, quickly, too nervous to think of anything else. She wanted to say anything to keep his attention away from Daniel. “They’re the perfect couple. Always smiling. They love each other deeply.”

“They’re here, in Paris?”

“No, in London.”

Harry was leaning against the wall. It seemed like he couldn’t stand up entirely. ‘He must be really tired’, Ginny thought. Finally, with a quick movement, she took the picture away from his hand. “Harry, you don’t look very well,” she said. “You should get some sleep.”

“Right,” he said, like waking up from some strange daydream. “I’ll go back to the Hotel. If you need me, just apparate there, OK?”

She nodded, and he left. A rush of mixed feelings came to her. She was happy and relieved that Harry was there. She wasn’t going to be alone anymore... But she had lied to him. She had made him feel guilty about something he didn’t have any responsibility for. She knew perfectly well about Harry’s tendency to blame himself for everything.

But what was done was done. Now, all she had to do was look to the future, hopefully with him by her side...

* * *

The next day, Harry took her out for dinner to a fancy restaurant. It had been a long time since she had been in a place like that. It felt right. That was the world where she belonged.

Harry asked her about what she did for a living. Ginny answered all his questions. But she couldn’t help noticing how bad he looked. Sometimes he seemed distracted, his mind wandering somewhere else, and it was pretty obvious he hadn’t slept well.

Then, they went back to Ginny’s apartment. She offered him a cup of coffee and he accepted.

“Harry, what is it?” she asked. “I know you want to tell me something...”

Harry ran a hand through his hair. “Well, it’s just... I hope you won’t feel offended, but I would like you to have your own money. I want to give you half of mine.”

Ginny gasped. “What?”

“It’s not fair that you have to live like this. You come from a wealthy family. Arthur and Molly were like my parents, so it’s logical that I share what I have with you...”

Ginny’s mind raced. She knew that Harry had a large fortune, considering what his parents and Sirius had left to him, plus what he had earned himself. However, even with that amount of money, she wouldn’t feel complete if he wasn’t with her. If she accepted just like that, she would lose her chance to have Harry.

“You’re right, I feel offended,” she said, thinking at top speed of what to say to make him feel commited to her.

“You’ve always been too proud,” Harry said, as if he had expected her answer.

“Proud? Don’t you realize that money is soaked in blood?”

He stared at her, confused. “Blood?”

“Are you going to deny that you are offering me this because of what happened to my parents? Because you feel responsible for it?”

He sighed, looking devastated. Ginny ignored the pang of guiltiness in her stomach, and kept looking at him expressionless. “Of course I feel responsible,” he said, slowly. “But it’s not just because of that. I hate to see you living in this dump, Gin. You have gone through too much already.”

She stood up and walked towards the small window. “Nothing will bring my parents back, Harry. And even if you give me all that money, it won’t change the fact that I am completely alone.”

He approached to her and embraced her. She leaned her head on his chest. It felt so good to be in his arms... She wanted to stay there forever. She looked up at him. Harry had that sad expression again. She was going to help him forget everything that had happened to both of them. Slowly, she pressed her lips against his. At first, Harry seemed too shocked to do anything, so she took the chance and deepened the kiss, until he pulled away.

“Ginny...” he said.

“I’ve loved you forever, Harry,” she said, not letting him continue. This was her last resource to get him.

“But I...”

“If you reject me, I’ll be destroyed, I won’t be able to stand it,” she insisted, kissing him again.

But Harry stopped her once more. “I love you Gin, a lot, but not like this. You’re like a sister to me...”

“That’s a lie. I know it’s a lie... You have no idea how lonely I’ve been, waiting for you...”

Harry closed his eyes and she kissed him again. This time, he didn’t back away, although he didn’t kiss her with the same passion she did. Ginny didn’t care. She was sure that Harry would give in, eventually. They were meant to be.

* * *

Next day, Ginny went to work feeling happier. She even hummed a song while she helped the fat ladies to try their robes on. Harry had left shortly after they had kissed, but she was sure that he was considering what had happened between them.

When she got home, half past six, Harry was waiting for her. He didn’t notice she had arrived. He was sitting on a chair, with Daniel’s picture in his hands, staring at it with a hurt look. Ginny’s heart skipped a beat. Why was he so interested in the picture? Had he guessed already that the kid in it was...?

“Harry,” she said, firmly.

He jumped and reached for his wand immediately. When he realized it was her, he calmed down and put it away. He was still holding the picture.

“It’s not very wise to scare a Resistance member like that, you know?” he said, quietly.

“I’ll keep it in mind,” she said, walking up to him. “How long have you been waiting?”

“Not much... Listen, I’ll go straight to the point,” he said. “Have you ever considered that if we get married you could enter into England?”

Ginny made a huge effort to keep her face expressionless. She had won.

“You don’t have to marry me just because you feel guilty, Harry,” she said.

“I know I’m more a problem than anything,” he said, ignoring her, “I’m too quiet, I’m a bit paranoid, and the war has had a terrible effect on me... But I want to take care of you. I promised Ron I would.”

Ginnny and Harry hadn’t talked about Ron yet. “Just before he died,” Harry added, “I told him I was going to take care of you. I’m not sure if this was what he had in mind, but I’ll do my best to make you happy.”

Ginny embraced him. He had made her happy already.

“You’re the only thing I have left,” he said.

“So are you,” she replied. “My answer is yes, Harry, I’ll marry you.”

Harry gave one last look to the picture in his hand, and let it fall to the floor.

* * *

As Harry Potter’s fiancee, Ginny had a lot to do before the marriage. Harry went back to England to do some paperwork for them to be able to live in London. Ginny quit her job – she would never forget Madame Vinya’s expression when she saw the diamond ring on her hand – and moved to a fancy hotel room.

There was something she needed to take care of. Daniel. That was why she wrote to Hermione.

“Dear Hermione,

That was a lovely picture- the one you’ve sent me. I can see that Daniel is much better with you and Draco than he’ll ever be with me.

That’s why I’m willing to let him stay with you, for good. You’ll be able to adopt him as your legal son. I have only two conditions.

One is that he, or anyone else, will never know about his birth parents. And second, is that, no matter what, you’ll never see me as his mother. Ever.

Please, write soon with your answer.

Ginny”

She waited anxiously for two days, until Hermione’s reply came back.

“Dear Gin,

You can’t imagine how happy you’ve made us. We love Danny so much. We swear we’ll never tell him or anyone about his origins.

Thank you again,

Hermione”

That was the answer she had been expecting. Then why did she feel so miserable?

* * *

Everything was almost ready for their wedding. Harry had informed the Weasley brothers that Ginny was alive. He hadn’t mentioned anything about Viktor Krum, just as he had promised to her. All of them traveled to Paris to reunite with her and attend to the wedding.

It was a simple ceremony. Only the bride and groom, Bill, Charlie, Percy and the twins with their families, and a friend of Harry’s that Ginny had never met, named Remus Lupin. Remus was a very silent person in her opinion, and often gave significant looks to Harry while the ceremony was being held.

The first three months of marriage were pure bliss for her. Harry was gentle and caring. Surely, he was distant sometimes, and traveled a lot due to his work as her brothers’ joke shop representative. He had also taken care of a foundation named after his Godfather.

Ginny had almost forgotten about everything that happened in the last four years, until that owl came. She was reading by the pool, when a letter fell on her lap.

“Dear Gin,

If you receive this, it’s probably because the Slytherin Goverment is over, which is great news. I’m probably not here anymore, but I gave instructions to one of my most loyal assistants to send this to you on July, year 2002.

I found what you were looking for so eagerly, but I took all this time to show it to you, because I thought you needed to be prepared. I hope it’ll be for the best.

In the basement of the Leaky Cauldron, in Diagon Alley, there is a package for you. There, you’ll find who betrayed your parents.

Be happy, and take care of our son,

Viktor Krum.”

Ginny stared at the letter, not daring to believe it. It had to be a joke. Krum had found out a long time ago, and he hadn’t told her anything? Nevertheless, her answer was there. She just had to go to Diagon Alley...

* * *

The basement of the Leaky Cauldron was full of dirt, but she didn’t care. She had been in worse places. She found the package under her name. Tom, the owner of the place, had left her alone.

Ginny sat down on the floor and slowly opened the package. It contained some kind of journal, which had the FOS emblem on the cover, and she started reading it.

It had a very detailed report about her father. What he had done ever since he had gotten to Paris. Ginny read through the pages until she found what she was looking for.

Section: 7

Case: Minister Salazar Slytherin’s murder attempt, in October 1998.

Suspect: Arthur and Molly Weasley.

State: Closed.

“We had knowledge that the suspects neighbour, Albert H. Granger, a muggle, had befriended Weasley. He was a direct witness of the murder attempt that Weasley, with the help of his wife, executed in the month of October, 1998. We took Mr. Granger’s wife, Susan, on November 1998, for interrogation. Just as we had expected, Albert Granger arrived an hour later, asking for his wife. We explained the situation to him, and, at first, he refused to cooperate. Then, we threatened the life of his wife, a muggle, and his daughter, a mudblood. After a lot of pressure, he confessed what he knew, with the condition of a signed oath that his daughter would never be harmed by the FOS...

Ginny couldn’t keep reading. Her hands were shaking so badly that the journal fell to the floor. She needed air, she needed to get out of there. She grabbed the journal and the rest of the things in Krum’s package and she took them home, with her.

It was a good thing that Harry was in the U.S. at the time. If he had seen her arriving home like that, he wouldn’t have left her alone until he found out what had happened. And Ginny certainly didn’t want to share this with anyone else.

Granger... He had betrayed his father. He was the person she had been looking for all this time... But he was dead, how was he going to pay?

"He should suffer as much as you,” she had said to her father in La Sante, the last time she had seen him alive. “And his family too. Just like ours."

His family... Hermione. The only friend she had ever had...

Not anymore. She was the daughter of that scum, the person responsible for her parent’s death and all her suffering. She would have to go through hell, just like she had.

Ginny sobbed when she thought she had given Daniel, her father’s grandchild to the daughter of their worst enemy... But no, Daniel was Hermione Granger’s son. He would have to pay too.

Yes... The revenge was about to start.

****

A/N: I know, I know, you hate me. You want to kill me, and maybe, if I you knew where I live, you’d send me hundreds of howlers for doing this... I completely understand. I hate myself too for what I’m doing here... But there’s still much to come ahead. Surely, now both Harry and Hermione are married to other person, but this is all part of the plot.

Also, there is, obviously a good explanation to Harry’s absence. And there’s a reason why I didn’t put it here. You’ll know, eventually.

I want to clearify something again: this is an AU fic, and that’s the only reason why Draco Malfoy is nice and Ginny is... Like that. Otherwise, I would NEVER pair Hermione with Draco and Harry with Ginny, not even for a slight second.

Next Chapter: Harry and Hermione meet again.

Thanks Emily for the Beta Reading and all of you who are reading.

14. Again

A/N: Hahaha, I knew you wouldn’t like what happened. But I’m glad that most of you understands this isn’t over. I know I’ve created a mess, but I will solve it... hopefully.

I just want to add that it’s not my intention to create evil! Ginny here. She’s a very complex character, and I hope you’ll try to understand her motives (not that I like her...)

Thanks for the reviews. Emily was, as always, the beta reader.

Chapter 13 - Again

April 2003

Hermione Granger was sitting on a rocking chair, in the porch of her small house in the outskirts of London. She had a book on her lap, but she wasn’t really reading it. She was watching her son, Daniel Malfoy, a two year old, quiet boy, play with Crookshanks, the cat they had bought as soon as they had moved to London about a year ago.

She couldn’t really complain about her life. Draco was a loving husband. He helped her around the house and Daniel simply adored him. It was true that the Malfoys didn’t live the great life. Hermione had resigned to her job as Lady McGonagall’s secretary (Although the war was over, the old woman had stayed in Spain). She had wanted to get a job when they arrived to London, but Draco had refused.

“I don’t want my wife to work,” he had said. “I’ll earn enough for us to live well. Daniel needs you to be with him.”

Normally, Hermione would have argued to this attitude, but she didn’t for two reasons: First of all, it seemed awfully important to Draco to prove that he could sustain his family without anybody’s help, and second, it was true that Daniel needed her.

It wasn’t that he was a complicated boy, but he didn’t feel at ease with strangers. Usually, he would hide behind Hermione whenever someone who wasn’t Draco approached to him. Hermione often wondered if this strange behavior had anything to do with all he had gone through when he lived with Ginny.

Draco currently worked in the Ministry. He didn’t have an important position, so he didn’t earn much. However, he was fond of wasting a lot of money in things that Hermione would’ve hardly considered necessary. Soon, she had been forced to look for a part time job to cover the expenses. She was currently the Wizarding London Library librarian, and worked there from 8 a.m. to 1 p.m. She enjoyed that job a lot because she had plenty of time to read. Her neighbor, Lavender Brown, took care of Daniel while she was at work, and then Hermione took care of Lavender’s kids in the afternoons.

“Danny, it’s getting cold! Let’s get in the house!” she called out to him. Daniel looked up and reluctantly, grabbed Crookshanks and followed his mother inside.

It was just then when an owl came through the window and flew directly to Hermione.

“What’s this?” she said, receiving the letter the owl gave to her.

“Hermione,

How have you been? It’s been a long time since I last heard from you. I’m in London now, and I would really like to talk to you. Would you come to have lunch with me tomorrow, at my house? Please, send me your response with this owl.

My love and regards, Ginny”

Hermione gasped. She hadn’t known anything of Ginny since she had sent her that letter, telling her she could adopt Daniel. What did she want now? She immediately turned to look at his son. Was this about Danny? Had Ginny changed her mind?

She looked at the address that Ginny had written in the letter. It was one of the fanciest neighborhoods in London. Maybe she had reunited with her brothers...

Although she was afraid of what this might mean, she wrote a reply saying she’d be there at 1:30 the next day.

* * *

Later, when Danny was already sleeping and Draco and her were having dinner, she decided to bring up the subject.

“Ginny owled me today,” she started.

Draco looked up. “What did she want?”

“She wants to see me. I don’t know why... Do you think it could be about Danny?” she whispered.

He shook his head. “She can’t take him away from us, Chiquita. We’ve adopted him. He’s our son now.”

“I know that, but I can’t help to be worried.”

Draco smiled at her, reassuringly. “She probably just wants to catch up with you. How did she manage to come to London, though? I thought she wasn’t allowed to enter this country.”

“Maybe they realized she wasn’t a traitor after all,” Hermione said, shrugging. She wanted to be happy for her friend’s presence there, but she couldn’t.

“Everything will be fine, don’t worry,” he said, kissing her hand.

Hermione smiled at her husband. Later, she would remember that night as the last happy one in their marriage.

* * *

The place where Ginny lived was the biggest house that Hermione had ever seen. It had at least one acre of garden before you reached the actual manor. It was amazing. What had happened? She knew the Weasleys had been a wealthy family, but not enough to afford a life like that.

A house-elf opened the door and smiled at her.

“You must be Miss Hermione Granger, miss. My name is Dobby, miss. Please, come in, the Lady is waiting for you.”

Hermione thanked him and entered in a big and fancy living room, where Ginny was sitting. She looked absolutely beautiful. She was wearing a short, white dress that fitted her perfectly, and had her head up in a bun. Hermione looked at her plain jeans and blouse and suddenly remembered how she used to feel uncomfortable when Ginny was the rich girl next door.

“Hermione, I’m so glad to see you,” Ginny said, hugging her.

“Me, too,” Hermione said. It was true, she was actually glad to see Ginny, but she was too worried to enjoy it.

“What’s wrong with you?” Ginny asked.

“Well, it’s just that I’m a little bit concerned,” Hermione said. Being the sincere and honest person she was, she thought it was better to ask her directly.

“About what?”

“About my son.”

Ginny arched her eyebrows. “Oh my, you certainly don’t think I’m here to interfere with that, do you?”

“You’re not asking me here for that?” Hermione asked slowly.

“Of course not! He is your son now, after all. And, if I remember correctly, you swore we would never talk about it again. I just wanted for us to meet again, that’s all.”

Hermione grinned. Now she could be completely happy. “That’s a relief. So tell me, what happened to you? Did you win the lottery or something?”

Ginny laughed. “Sort of. I got married.”

“You did?” Hermione asked with widened eyes. “Tell me all about it!”

“All right, I’ll tell you while we eat by the pool,” she led her to a table outside, where Dobby had just served a roasted turkey.

Hermione was about to ask again about Ginny’s husband, but she cut her off.

“Come on, tell me about you and Draco. You’ve been married for a year now, how are the things with him?”

“Pretty well,” Hermione said. “The three of us have a nice life.”

“Do you have a job?”

“Yes, I recently started working as a librarian. It wasn’t enough with just Draco’s salary.”

“A librarian?” Ginny asked, staring at her. “You graduated with honors from Beauxbatons, I would have expect you having a more important job now that the war is over.”

“Well, I like being a librarian. It’s a very interesting job and it gives me plenty of time to be with Danny.”

“You’re amazing. You work and you take care of a child... Aren’t you planning to have another one?”

“Maybe later,” Hermione said. She really wanted to have a kid, but the economical situation wasn’t the better right now.

“Daniel must have grown a lot,” Ginny commented.

“Gin, I should have written to you to tell you about him...”

“Why?”

“Well, because...”

Ginny leaned forward and grabbed Hermione’s wrist. “Is this how you keep your promises, Hermione? You didn’t have to write me about YOUR son. I have nothing to do with him.”

Hermione nodded. She couldn’t help but realize that Ginny’s eyes were colder than before. “You haven’t told your husband about him, have you?”

“No, and I swear I’ll kill the one who dares to tell him.” It didn’t sound like an empty threat and Hermione noticed little goosebumps along her arm where Ginny had grabbed her. Ginny let her go and smiled again. “Tell me more about your life.”

Hermione spent the next twenty minutes telling Ginny about her job, Daniel and Draco. Ginny didn’t give her the chance to ask about her husband, until Dobby showed up.

“Should I serve the dessert, Mrs. Potter?”

Hermione’s glass slipped, but luckily it fell on her lap, and not to the floor. She turned to Ginny. “Potter?” she repeated, cleaning her lap with a handkerchief. It was too much of a coincidence. There were a lot of Potters, but...

Ginny sighed. “Oh, Dobby has ruined the surprise... I didn’t want to tell you until you saw him with your own eyes. I married Harry. Isn’t it amazing? Life is full of surprises.”

In her numb state, Hermione managed to smile. “Wow, that’s incredible... Um, where’s the bathroom?”

Once in the bathroom, Hermione felt her knees giving way. She sat on the cold floor, with her head on her hands. Breathing heavily, she was doing a huge effort to stop the tears welling up in her eyes. Ginny and Harry were married. She couldn’t believe it. But then again, why was she feeling betrayed? After all, she was married too.

Of course, it was true that she would’ve never accepted Draco’s proposal if Ginny hadn’t told her about Harry’s letters. “He left you, Hermione,” she said to herself. Harry and her were over a long time ago. It was natural that a handsome, rich and charming wizard like him would get married sooner or later. And, of course, he wasn’t going to do it with a poor and plain muggle-born like her. He was better with a glamorous and beautiful rich girl like Ginny. Yes, they were the perfect couple. She had to be happy for her friend.

Hermione stood up and looked at her reflection in the mirror. She was pale. She washed her face and practiced her smile. She was grateful that the house-elf had ruined Ginny’s surprise. She didn’t know what she’d have done if suddenly Harry had appeared in the house.

That’s right. Ginny wanted Hermione to see with her own eyes her husband. That probably meant that Harry could arrive any minute. She couldn’t see him right now. She had to leave that house immediately.

“Ginny,” she said, when she went back where Ginny was sitting, “I’m terrible sorry, but I have to go. Time flew, and I have to pick up Danny. He’s with my neighbor, Lavender, but she’s busy in the afternoons...”

“Of course, I understand,” Ginny said, smiling warmly. “I’m so glad to see you again. Now that we both live in London, we’ll be able to see each other often. I’ll give you a call to meet again.”

“Fine,” muttered Hermione, walking towards the front door, followed by Dobby and Ginny. “Bye.”

Ginny stayed in the front door until Hermione disapparated. The smile she had worn during the lunch left her face. She had called her to find out about Daniel, but she hadn’t been prepared for that stupid connection between Hermione and her. That love she felt for her friend was still there. She frowned, filled with anger. That woman was a Granger. She couldn’t be her friend anymore.

* * *

When Harry arrived an hour later, he found Ginny sitting next to the pool, still frowning.

“Is something wrong?” he asked gently.

Ginny looked up and change her expression immediately. “Oh! No, honey, I was just thinking...”

Harry sat beside her. “Dobby told me that someone came to have lunch with you. I didn’t know you had a guest.”

Ginny smiled. She hadn’t told Harry that she had called Hermione. She wanted to check her out first. “Yes, it was my old friend, Hermione Granger... Malfoy, remember her?”

Harry became tense immediately. “Hermione Granger?” he repeated.

“Oh, Harry, you have such a frail memory,” Ginny said, laughing. “That muggle-born girl who lived right next to me in Daguerre...”

“Oh, yeah, how is she?” Harry asked cutting a small flower growing between the grass and looking at it.

“She lives here in London,” Ginny said. “Since she’s my oldest friend, I thought that it would be nice to start seeing her again...” Harry remained silent. ‘He’s probably not very interested in hearing about Hermione’ Ginny thought. “We could invite her and her husband tomorrow to have dinner with us, what do you think?”

Harry stood up. “No,” he said.

“Why not?” she questioned.

“Because... I’m tired, I don’t want to stay up late,” he said, turning away from her.

“But what will she think? Hermione has been very nice to me... She might think I’m rejecting her for living in a miserable house...”

Harry frowned and went into the house.

‘What’s with him?’ Ginny thought, deeply confused with her husband’s behavior.

* * *

Later, when Harry had turned off the light on his nighttable, Ginny decided to bring up the subject again. She had been thinking the whole day how to convince Harry to establish a relation with the Malfoys, and she had come up with a good idea.

“Hermione lent me some money...” she started.

Harry, who had just put his head on the pillow, turned to look at Ginny, who was still sat up. “When was this?”

“Just after the Liberation, when I was living in a dump worse than Saint Ouen.”

“You never told me that,” he said quietly.

“No, I didn’t.” She hadn’t told him because it had to do with Daniel. “She lent me three hundred galleons. It must have been a lot of money for her. After all, she was just a secretary...”

“Did you return the money to her?”

“No... We lost contact a year ago...” she paused, expectantly.

“Then we should probably see them,” Harry said in an expressionless voice after a while.

Ginny kissed him on the cheek. That was exactly what she had expected. She had to be in touch with the Malfoys to go on with her plan. Everything was going to be alright.

* * *

The next day, Ginny’s head appeared in Hermione’s fireplace just when she was arriving home. She invited Draco and Hermione to an “informal party” at her house, that Saturday. Hermione politely declined the offer. It would be bad enough having to see Harry again, but spending a whole evening with the Potters would be unbearable. Ginny seemed frustrated with her answer.

“I’m sorry, Ginny, but we can’t afford a baby sitter,” she excused herself, lamely.

“What about that neighbor of yours?”

“She’ll be out this whole weekend. I’m really sorry.”

“Well, if you arrange something, let me know, all right?”

Hermione promised she would, but she had no intention to arrange anything. She really didn’t want to go to Ginny’s house again.

But she wasn’t counting on Draco’s opinion of the subject.

“Ginny called...” she started that night.

Draco looked at her, slightly concerned. “To talk about Danny?”

“I told you that she’s the one worried that we might talk, Draco,” Hermione said. “She invited us to a party at her house this Saturday. I told her no, of course.”

“What do you mean ‘of course’?” he asked, grabbing a piece of bread from the table. He looked angrily at her. “Did you tell her the usual- that your husband can’t even afford a babysitter?”

Hermione sighed and avoided his stare. They had gone through this kind of conversation millions of times before. Draco was always worried about what the others thought of him, especially when it involved money.

“What the hell is wrong with you?” he continued. “Don’t you know that Harry Potter is an important man? If he’s giving a party, a lot of people will go, people that we’d want to meet. Think of all the chances I’d have of getting a better position in the Ministry.”

“I didn’t think of that,” she said, softly.

“Of course you didn’t! You never think about anything but yourself!”

She glared at him. How could he say something like that? “I’m sorry, Draco,” she said, with a cold voice. “I can call Ginny and accept her invitation, if that’s what you want.”

“Why bother? You probably already told her how useless I am. Now she must be thinking about the competence of the person she gave her son to...”

“Shut up!” Hermione whispered furiously, looking at the closed door of Daniel’s bedroom. Although he was asleep, he could wake up any minute.

Draco stood up and left the house, shutting the door angrily behind him.

* * *

“Ginny, if it’s not too late, we’d like to accept your invitation...” Hermione said through the fireplace.

“Wonderful!” Ginny said. They cut the connection.

“Who was it?” Harry asked, entering in the living room in that moment.

“Hermione. She’s coming this Saturday.”

“Oh.”

* * *

Draco arrived way past three in the morning, with a strong smell of alcohol. Hermione was waiting for him awake. He looked at her, embarrased.

“I’m an idiot, huh?” he said.

“I called Ginny. They’re waiting for us this Saturday,” Hermione said, before leaving for her room.

* * *

“Is it OK that we didn’t bring anything?” Draco asked, staring at the manor in front of them in awe.

“Yes, there was no need to,” Hermione replied, tightening her cloak. She was incredibly nervous. What if she started crying when she saw Harry? Or maybe she even fainted, like those women from the romance novels she sometimes read.

Dobby, the house elf, opened the door and grinned at the couple. Ginny appeared a second later.

“Draco,” she said, kissing him in the cheek. “It’s been such a long time. I’m so glad you could make it. What a lovely dress, Hermione!”

Hermione smiled. Her plain blue dress, that she had made herself, was nothing beside the black, strapless dress that Ginny was wearing. She looked around. She wasn’t expecting so many people to be there. It was better like that; it would be easier to avoid Harry.

She spotted the Minister of Magic among the crowd. He was talking to a tall man, with a long white beard. His face was slightly familiar. Draco was in pure bliss. He followed Ginny, who introduced him to a group of wizards in a corner. Hermione didn’t go with him. She was looking anxiously among the crowd, to see where he was. She couldn’t find him. He was probably in the garden...

Ginny approached her after leaving Draco. “Come on, Herm, I want you to meet some people,” she said, grabbing her friend’s arm and leading her to a small crowd.

“Everyone, this is Hermione Malfoy,” she introduced her. She then apologized and left to meet some other friends.

“Oh, it’s a pleasure to meet you, Mrs. Malfoy. You were formerly Granger, weren’t you?” It had been the tall man with the long beard who was the one who had spoken to her.

“Yes, how do you know?” she asked, surprised.

“My name is Albus Dumbledore, I’m the Headmaster of Hogwarts School,” he explained. “Madame Maxime told me about your academic achievements in her Academy.”

“She did?” Hermione asked, surprised.

“Of course. I was wondering if you’d accept a job in my school,” Dumbledore offered, smiling.

“I would love to, but I can’t,” she said. She couldn’t leave her son alone.

“That’s a shame,” Dumbledore said, as if he was expecting that answer. “Well, if you ever change your mind, don’t hesitate to floo me.”

“I will, thank you, sir,” Hermione said, smiling.

Suddenly she felt as if the air had just disappeared. A tall, black-haired man had just stepped in the living room. Dumbledore was still talking to her, but she couldn’t listen. He was just as she remembered. Even though more than four years had passed, she hadn’t forgotten anything about him. His eyes, his hair, his features... No, she was wrong. He had changed. When they had met, they were only eighteen years old. He had been just a kid, after all. Now he was a man. Hermione wasn’t sure if he had seen her, but he turned to a group of people and stayed there for a while.

Albus Dumbledore looked at her and then followed her gaze. “Harry!” he called.

Hermione jumped. She would have wanted to disapparate right then. Harry turned around to see who was calling him and spotted Dumbledore. And then, his eyes fell on the person right next to the old man. His expression didn’t change a bit. He excused himself with the people he had been talking to and approached slowly where Dumbledore and Hermione were.

“Good evening, Albus,” he greeted him.

“Great party, Harry,” Dumbledore said, smiling.

Harry turned to Hermione, who was squeezing her dress tightly. “Hello, Hermione,” he said.

She felt a rush of emotions hitting her. She opened her mouth to greet him back, but the words never came.

“Gin told me she had invited Draco and you,” Harry continued, in a business-like tone. “It’s been a long time.” He wasn’t looking at her anymore. His eyes had drifted to something beyond her shoulder.

From Hermione’s mouth only came a strange growl.

“I’ve just been with Draco,” Harry continued, still not looking at her. “He told me you have a child...”

“Yes, Danny,” her voice finally came out, shakily. “He’s two years old.”

Harry nodded, absent-mindly. “Excuse me, I need to see someone,” he said. “Hermione, we’ll have to talk some other time,” he said in a merely polite way, moving apart from them.

The voices in the room suddenly became so loud, that Hermione felt like her head was going to explode. She needed to get out of there. She apologized to Albus Dumbledore, and walked towards a small room at the end of the hallway, which turned out to be the library.

She sat down on a black couch. Luckily, the room was empty. She took a couple of deep breaths to calm herself down. She hadn’t even been close to guessing how hard it would be seeing Harry again. She hadn’t been prepared for his coldness. He had talked to her as if she was a stranger.

The tears were welling up in her eyes. She fought them with all her strength. It was stupid. She had moved on. She was married. She had a son...

The door of the library opened. Hermione, who had her back turned to the door, didn’t need to look to see who had just entered.

“Oh, you are here,” Harry’s voice said.

She picked up a book that was right next to her. “Yeah, I wanted to see this,” she said, lamely. “It’s...” she looked at the cover. “A book of Dangerous Potions...”

Harry walked through the room until he was in front of her. Hermione avoided his eyes, and opened the book she had just picked up. He put his hand in his pocket.

“This is yours,” he said.

She looked up. He had a piece of paper in his hand. She took it. It was a check from Gringotts. Three Hundred Galleons had been written on it.

“I’m afraid I don’t understand...” she said, now looking at him.

“Gin told me you lent her some money. It was three hundred, wasn’t it?”

Hermione blinked. This was the last thing she had expected. “I don’t remember,” she said.

“Was it more?” he asked, coldly.

“I don’t remember,” she repeated. “I’m not good with numbers.”

“I can write another one if this amount is not correct,” he stated, grabbing a quill form the desk.

Long ago, he had held her in his arms. He had told her he loved her.

“How much was it?” he insisted. His voice didn’t have any emotion.

“You don’t have to pay me,” she said finally.

“I don’t like debts,” he retorted.

“Three hundred,” she gave in.

“Well, then it’s settled,” he said, extending the piece of paper. Hermione didn’t take it, so he left it on a small table right next to her and left the room.

Now alone, she took the check and tore it up into thousand pieces. It wasn’t as torn as her heart, though.

A/N: I guess that’s not the reunion you were expecting. But they’ll have a chance to get together again in teh next chapter. You’ll also know what happened to Harry during his absence.

15. Inevitable

Chapter 14 - Inevitable

May 2003

Days went by, and before Hermione knew it, a month had passed since she had seen Harry for the first and only time since he had married Ginny. It was a relief to her that usually Ginny chose restaurants to meet with her. On the other hand, the less rational part of her mind (or was it her heart?) was aching to see him again, even if he was going to treat her with his coldness.

She couldn’t believe it. She couldn’t believe she loved him as much, or maybe more than before. She certainly had known for sure that she would never forget him, but she had hoped that with time, she would be able to heal. She was married to another man after all. Draco and Daniel were her family now. It wasn’t natural that she dreamed about someone else.

But that was what fate had chosen for them. And it wasn’t that Hermione was one of those people who believed in predestination... Actually, she was quite against it, but she had to admit that thinking that that was what was meant to be for her made everything a lot easier. If that was possible.

She was now sitting with Ginny, having lunch in a small place in London. Small, but luxurious enough for her red-headed friend. Ginny had said she wanted to discuss something urgent with her.

“Before we start, promise me that you won’t reject my proposition before thinking about it,” Ginny started.

Hermione eyed her, warily. “Is this an illegal thing?” she teased.

Ginny smiled. “Not at all. This will be a completely honest and legal company.”

“Company?” Hermione repeated, puzzled. “What are you talking about?”

“Well... I was thinking. I’m getting bored just being at the manor, not doing anything. So I wanted to start a company... I want to make dresses and fashionable robes for witches.”

“Are you kidding?”

“No. This is really serious stuff. And I want you to work with me.”

“Me...? But I... I don’t know anything about fashion, Gin.”

“Of course you do. Don’t you remember we used to spend our afternoons designing clothes back at Daguerre? Besides, I bet that dress you’re wearing right now was made by yourself... A pure Hermione Granger piece of work.”

Hermione laughed. Actually, the red dress she was wearing had been designed by herself. She didn’t have money to waste on buying clothes when she could make them.

“Well, what do you say?”

“I’m not sure, Gin...”

“Come on, think about it. Of course, Draco would have a part in this company, too.”

Hermione looked at her friend, surprised. “He would?”

“Yes, we need a representative, someone who takes care of the financial stuff, you know. I’m not very good with that...”

“I’ll talk to Draco about it,” she promised.

* * *

By the time Hermione arrived at her house, she was very excited with Ginny’s offer. She loved designing clothes, and it would be really nice to work with her best friend and husband.

She was surprised to find Draco sitting on the couch, with a glum expression and a glass of whisky in his hand. He didn’t even look up when she entered in the room. He had obviously had an awful day at work.

Hermione sighed and sat across from him, on a wooden chair.

“Ginny wants to start a business,” she said, straight to the point. “Witch Fashion,” she added.

Draco took a sip of his whisky and let out a hollow laugh. “What is it? Potter isn’t doing well with his billions of Galleons?”

“It was her idea,” Hermione said, ignoring his sarcasm, “and she wants us to be a part of it.”

“Us?”

“I would be a designer and you would be the representative.” She then told him everything she had discussed with Ginny. The salary her friend wanted to pay them – 9,000 Galleons a year for each of them, which was a lot more than what they would earn working ten years at their current jobs – the legal terms, etc. By the time she finished, Draco was pacing through the room, excitedly.

“I was getting tired in the Ministry anyway,” he said. “And, in a couple of years I would be earning enough for you to quit and stay home.”

Hermione ignored his last comment. “What if you leave your current job and this doesn’t work?” she asked.

“Have you no faith? This is exactly what we were waiting for! I’ll meet with Ginny.”

* * *

Ginny sat on Severus Snape’s office, rubbing her hands nervously. Snape was a famous Healer who specialized in the woman’s reproduction system... In other words, pregnancy and conception.

She had asked for an appointment with him because she was starting to get worried. No matter how hard Harry and she tried, she couldn’t get pregnant. Ginny knew that Harry wanted to be a father more than anything else, and she wanted to give him a child, that would tie him forever to her.

But it wasn’t working.

“Have you ever had an abortion, Mrs. Potter?” Snape asked, writing down her answers in a piece of parchment.

“No.”

“Have you ever had a child that was born dead?”

“No.”

Snape left the parchment on his desk and stood up. “I’ll have to examine you, and maybe then we’ll find something.”

Ginny nodded, swallowing hard.

After the examination, Snape went back to his chair and surveyed Ginny with his black eyes. “You have had a child before,” he started.

“Who was born alive, not dead,” Ginny pointed.

“Was it a hard delivery?” he asked.

Ginny explained what had happened – of course, avoiding the political details- the night that Daniel was born. It wasn’t easy. She hadn’t expected she would have to relive that part of her life.

“Internal bleeding?” Snape wrote down. Ginny nodded. “Well, Mrs. Potter, I will be honest with you. The Healer that attended your delivery was in a really hard position. To save you, he caused a lot of harm to you...”

“I don’t understand.”

Snape sighed. “You won’t be able to conceive again,” he said, slowly.

The news hit her like icy water. “What?”

“I’m really sorry, ma’am. But your womb is partially destroyed, and there’s no way you could get pregnant in that way.”

“That’s impossible,” she said with a shaky voice. “You have to be wrong.”

“If you want to go to another healer, you can. But I assure you he will tell you the same thing.”

* * *

“How did it go?” Harry asked gently that night.

“Hermione and Draco accepted my offer,” Ginny replied, trying to avoid her discussion with Severus Snape. Before going to his office, she had met with Draco Malfoy.

Harry nodded absent-mindly. He had seemed excited when Ginny had told him her idea, but his enthusiasm disappeared at once when she added she had offered a job to the Malfoys.

“I’m talking about your appointment with the Healer,” he said.

“Well... he examined me,” Ginny said, biting her lip.

“And?” he asked, his green eyes shining expectantly.

“He said we should keep trying,” she beamed at him.

“Really? There’s nothing wrong?” he asked, obviously relieved.

“Of course not!” She kissed him lightly. “Harry, a year is not much time... You’ll see, we’ll be parents really soon.”

* * *

Two weeks later, on a really hot Sunday, the Malfoys flooed themselves to the Potter’s manor. Ginny had invited them for lunch, to sign the contract. They had brought Daniel along. After all, if they were going to work with Ginny, it would be inevitable for them to see each other.

Hermione didn’t know what made her more nervous: Ginny and Danny’s meeting or seeing Harry again.

“Mr. and Mrs. Potter are expecting you by the pool,” Dobby said.

Hermione took Danny’s hand and followed Draco outside, shaking like a leaf.

“You’re finally here!” Ginny said, approaching them, grinning.

“Yes, 1 o’clock sharp,” Draco said, and motioned Hermione and Daniel to come closer. The little boy looked up at the red-headed lady, puzzled.

“Danny, this is Mrs. Potter,” Hermione said, pushing him forward.

“Hello, Daniel,” Ginny greeted him, smiling.

Daniel muttered a weak “Hi” and hid behind Hermione.

“He’s a little shy,” Draco said, laughing.

Ginny smiled at the couple. Inside she was really hurt. This was her boy. And he was hiding from her behind her worst enemy.

“Please, come to the pool,” she said, turning her back at them and walking to where Harry was sitting, reading the Daily Prophet. When he saw them, he stood up and shook Draco’s hand. He just nodded politely to Hermione. She felt like slapping him.

“You must be Daniel,” Harry said, kneeling in front of the boy, who was clutching Hermione’s skirt. “Do you like the water? Would you like to come and swim with me?”

Daniel stared at him, considering the offer. After a couple of seconds, he nodded and let go Hermione’s hand and followed Harry to the pool.

“Wow, that’s amazing, it’s the first time he goes with a stranger,” Draco commented.

“Harry is great with kids,” Ginny shrugged. “Well, you can go through the contract,” she said, giving it to them. Then she pulled a chair and sat by the pool, while Draco and Hermione moved a little apart, to read the terms.

“Here it says that all your designs will be licensed under her name,” Draco read. “What do you think about that?”

“That’s normal, every Fashion company does the same,” Hermione said. Her mind wasn’t really in the contract. She was staring at Harry, who was playing in the pool with Danny. She shuddered when her eyes fell on his arm. Something had happened to it. The skin was red...

“How is it going?” Ginny asked, approaching to them.

“We’re done,” Draco said. He turned to Hermione and noticed she was staring at the pool. “Chiquita, stop worrying, Harry won’t let Danny drown,” he said, rolling his eyes.

“What? Oh, yeah, right...” she said, feeling embarrased.

“Harry, dear, we’re about to sign!” Ginny called him.

Harry nodded and climbed out of the pool, carrying Daniel. He took a towel and dried his hair and then put a t-shirt on while walking towards them. Danny ran to Hermione and grabbed her hand.

“Are you sure you don’t want to revise it again?” he asked, looking at Draco.

“We’ve already read it,” he said, smiling.

“Yes, but maybe you should ask a lawyer...” Harry said, still talking directly to Draco, completely ignoring Hermione’s presence.

“What, did you put a hidden term in it that will doom us to bankruptcy?” Draco teased. The truth was that he couldn’t afford a lawyer.

“I’m just suggesting you should—”

“Harry, it’s alright,” Ginny interrupted. “They are comfortable with the contract, let’s sign it, all right?”

She grabbed a quill and signed it. Draco and Hermione followed. Since it was a magical contract, once signed, it was impossible to destroy it. Grinning, Ginny opened a bottle of champagne.

“For Virginia Weasley,” she said, lifting her glass. She had decided that was the name of her new company. It was a glamorous name.

The first step of her plan was done.

* * *

The weeks that followed that day were very busy for Hermione. Draco had decided that, now that they were going to earn a lot more money, they shouldn’t live like a poor family anymore and move. Hermione didn’t consider her house as “miserable” as Ginny and Draco had called it, but she had accepted.

Ginny had helped them in choosing a new home. Hermione had wanted just a simple, regular house, but Ginny had showed him a really big one in one of the high suburbs of London. Draco had absolutely loved it.

“This costs too much,” Hermione argued, “We can’t afford it.”

“Why are you always complaining?” Draco said, angrily. “This house is spectacular.”

“But Draco, look at the price, it’s too high. We can’t...”

“Excuse me,” Ginny interrupted. “But, if you want, I could lend you some money to pay for it. You can pay me later.”

“No, Gin, we can’t accept...” Hermione started.

“Thank you very much, Ginny, That’s very generous of you,” Draco cut her off. “See, Chiquita? We can have this house.”

Hermione sighed. “We don’t need a house this big, Draco.”

“Can’t you see I love this house? It’s all I ever wanted! Why can’t you let me have, for once, an opinion?” he argued.

Hermione gave up. He was always like that. She was getting tired of it and didn’t really need an argument now.

So, a week later, they were moving into that big house that Draco had wanted so much. To celebrate, Ginny offered the couple a vacation in an apartment she and Harry owned in Kent, right next to the beach. Draco had accepted immediately, saying they needed a holiday before starting their new job.

* * *

July 2003

The second morning in the Potter’s apartment, Daniel woke up Hermione at 7 a.m. He wanted to go to the beach. Hermione got dressed and went with him. They didn’t wake Draco up. Hermione considered it would be better to let him sleep.

They ran and played in the sand. Daniel had turned three years old, but to Hermione he looked much older than that. He was so serious and mature...

“Look, mum, Mr. Potter is here, too!” the boy said suddenly.

Hermione turned around violently and spotted a man walking slowly through the beach. It couldn’t be... Harry was with Ginny in London. She then noticed that the man had a snowy owl on his shoulder. There was no mistake. It was Harry.

She wanted to disapparate right then. If she hadn’t been with Daniel, she probably would have. But Harry had already spotted them, and, to her surprise, he was walking towards them. Hermione sighed and got ready for the inevitable. He would, once again, treat her with his cold politeness, which was much worse than plain despise.

“Good morning,” Harry said. Daniel ran to him and shook his hand.

“Hi,” Hermione whispered, trying to pull back her hair, quite a hard task thanks to the strong wind blowing. “I thought you were in London.”

“I’m only here for the day,” Harry said, looking at the wide ocean. “Business,” he added.

Hermione nodded and took a deep breath.

“You’re up very early,” he commented.

Why don’t you go to hell? She thought bitterly. “Well, I’m sure that my waking-up habits are not a mystery to you,” she said, despite herself.

Harry’s eyes turned to her. It was the first time he looked directly at her in that way since they had met again. “No, they’re not,” he said softly.

Hermione looked at Daniel. He was a little far off, playing in the sand. He couldn’t hear them. She turned to Harry again. “You know, we’ll have to see each other a lot from now on,” she said while he just stared at her, in silence. “So, maybe you could just drop that attitude, and behave like a grown-up.”

“What attitude?” he asked.

“THAT attitude!” she exclaimed. She knew that all of the anger she had building up inside of her since she had known that he had just played with her was about to blow up. “The attitude of a stupid, snob, rich man who treat the rest of us as if we were inferiors!”

Harry blinked. “Hermione, I lost the sense of this conversation.”

“The bloody sense is that something happened between us, Harry!” she yelled.

“A long time ago,” he added, not raising his voice at all.

“I’m not saying the opposite. But that politeness in your treatment is disgusting! I’m sick of it! It won’t erase the past!”

“What’s the point of remembering something that’s behind us?” Harry asked, with an expressionless face.

“Well, maybe if we bring up the past, we’ll be able to behave normally when we’re together.”

Harry was about to say something, but he turned his gaze away from her. Suddenly, his eyes widened.

“Oh, God!”

Hermione turned around and realized immediately why Harry had said that. Daniel was being pulled by a huge wave. Before she could even do anything, Harry started running towards Daniel. Without losing a second, she followed him. Harry got in the water, swimming desperately to reach the small boy. Hermione wanted to get in the water too, but Harry turned to her.

“Stay back!” he yelled.

It was like that time on the mountain. He was in control of the situation, and just as she had trusted him back then, she trusted him right now. Although she was really scared, she somehow knew that Harry would save Daniel. She went back to the beach, shaking.

Three minutes later, Harry came out with Daniel in his arms. The boy was unconscious. Hermione wanted to scream. This couldn’t be happening...

“Hermione,” Harry said, with a strong voice that forced her to remain calm, “I happen to have my broom here. I’ll take Danny to the hospital. You apparate there, and wait for us, OK?”

* * *

“I sent Hedwig to Draco. But I don’t know how long will it take for him to be here,” Hermione said.

She was sitting with him in the waiting room of Kent’s Wizarding Hospital.

“Don’t worry,” Harry said. His clothes were still wet and dirty with sand. His hair was messy and he had left his shoes on the beach. “Besides, he can’t do anything.”

“What if they need the permission of both parents for an emergency surgery?” she said. She sighed, trying to forget the fear she was feeling. “He looked bad, didn’t he?” she whispered.

“He’s going to be all right,” Harry said.

Hermione stopped trying to act calm and covered her face with her hands. “I should have gone inside with him. He doesn’t like strangers...”

“I’ll bring some coffee. We both need some,” Harry said. “I’ll be right back.”

Hermione didn’t care about a stupid coffee. All she could think about was her boy being pulled by that wave... Her head was spinning. Her brown eyes filled with tears. She tried to wipe them, but it was no use.

“Hermione...” She felt Harry’s voice. He was back with the coffee. He sat beside her. “What happened?” he asked softly.

“Nothing yet,” she said, grabbing the tissue he summoned for her. “This is all my fault.”

Harry frowned. “You didn’t call that wave to the beach, Hermione.”

“I let him go on his own. I should have been taking care of him instead of trying to impress you, to make you recognize that there had been something important between us, when there obviously wasn’t anything...” she started sobbing.

“Here,” he said, giving her another tissue.

She blowed her nose and stared at the mug with dark coffee he had given to her.

“Does it taste bad?” he asked. “Do you still like it with two spoons of sugar?”

If Hermione hadn’t been so worried about Danny, she would have noticed that that comment was an acknowledgement of their time together. “It’s fine,” she whispered, taking a sip. She then turned to look at him. “I haven’t thanked you yet for saving his life.”

“Did you expect me to just stand there, not doing anything?”

“The current was incredibly strong, you could have drowned...”

“I’m a good swimmer.”

“It was very brave of you,” she said. “You’re always brave... God, why do they take so long? What if is something really bad, what if he’s in a coma or-”

“Hermione, stop it!” Harry exclaimed.

“I’m sorry... I’m just a worrywart mother.” She took another sip of her coffee. “I’m going to the bathroom. If something happens, just call me, OK?”

Once in the bathroom, she looked at herself in the mirror. She was pale and her hair was frizzy and full of sand. But she didn’t care. She just washed a little her face with cold water and went back to the waiting room. Harry was rubbing the arm she had noticed in their house.

“Harry?” he jumped a little and look up at her. “What happened to your arm?”

“It’s not a very nice story,” he muttered.

“The war?” she asked.

He eyed her with his green eyes and Hermione felt her heart beating faster. “Yes, the war,” he said, slowly. He then stood up and started pacing. Hermione sat down, looking at him. Harry then leaned against the wall and looked at her. “Correct me if I’m wrong, Hermione, but I have the impression that you think I abandoned you.”

Hermione gaped. She was totally taken aback. She took a couple of deep breaths, before saying, “You never wrote back.”

“It’s true, I stopped writing to you.”

“Well... I didn’t know what to think. I tried to look for you. Lady McGonagall had a friend in the Resistance... He told us your reports arrived in time.”

“They weren’t mine,” Harry said, looking down.

“What?”

“I didn’t send any reports. Of course, they arrived anyway. People in the Resistance never thought that the FOS was smart enough to fake them...”

“Where were you then?” she asked, almost afraid of his answer.

He lifted his head and their gazes locked for a second.

“In Azkaban.”

“Azka- You were a prisoner?” she gasped.

“Almost two years.”

Hermione rubbed her temples. Ginny hadn’t told her anything about Harry being in Azkaban. She hadn’t forgotten to mention the other women he was dating, though. She looked at him, amazed. She had heard terrible stories about Azkaban. The tortures and the darkness... Not many people made it out alive.

“It was after I met you in Madrid,” he continued. “I was released shortly after France’s Liberation, but those two months aren’t very clear to me. I was lost, shocked. Remus found me and helped me. Thanks to him, I’m fine now.”

Hermione wanted to cry... If she had known...

“I’m so sorry, Harry...” she said. She trailed off when a nurse passed by.

“You never took the check to Gringotts,” he said.

“What?”

“The 300 Galleons I gave you at the party.”

“Oh, those.”

“I was very nice at the time, huh? That’s me, I always behave like an asshole when I’m nervous,” he said.

“Why would you be nervous?” she asked.

“Very simple. When I was in Azkaban, the only thing that kept me alive was you. It was the only way I could’ve made it through that hell, seeing you again. And, when I come out, it turns out that you, my heroine, had stood me up...”

“I didn’t stand you up,” she said, quickly.

“The thing is, it was quite hard for me. I decided I would never see you again. And then, Ginny came up with that idea of the party...”

Hermione swallowed. “After you recovered in Remus’ place...”

“I went immediately to Paris. Remus had found out where Ginny was living. I went to see her right away, and that’s when I learned about your marriage...”

Hermione’s eyes widened. “But Ginny told me...”

Her voice went out. Ginny had lied to her. In that room, with Daniel almost dying, her friend had lied to her. She couldn’t believe it...

“What did she tell you?” Harry asked.

Ginny was the only friend she had. She was Daniel’s birth mother and her employer... And Draco’s too. She stared at Harry, not knowing what to say. She was too shocked to think.

“Mrs. Malfoy?” a voice asked. She turned to see a woman wearing a white apron.

“It’s me,” she said, standing up, nervously.

“Are you Mr. Malfoy?” the Healer asked, looking at Harry.

“I’m just a friend,” he replied, not telling her his last name. “How is Daniel?”

“Your son is fine. Just a few bruises, that’s all.”

Hermione let out a relieved laugh. The Healer smiled at her and left. They were left alone again. Hermione was too tired to remain on her feet, so she sat down again. She was happy that Daniel was okay. But the conversation she just had with Harry clouded her emotions. Before she knew it, she was crying again.

Harry kneeled in front of her and grabbed her hands. Hers were cold, but when he touched her, she felt warm. It was as if all her fears were swept away. Harry looked directly into her eyes. The hospital was really noisy, but looking into each other eyes, they didn’t notice.

“It’s true that you saved my life, Hermione,” Harry whispered. “In Azkaban, the idea of dying is very tempting. But thinking about you helped me to stay alive and strong.”

Hermione squeezed his hands. “Harry...”

He moved a little closer to her. “I-” he started.

“Hermione!” a voice called.

Hermione and Harry turned around and saw Draco running to them, with Hedwig flying behind him. Harry instantly backed away from her and stood up. Draco stopped in front of them and caught his breath.

“I’m sorry, I was sleeping and didn’t notice the owl until now,” he apologized. “How is Danny?”

“He’s going to be fine,” Hermione muttered.

“Thanks goodness,” Draco said and hugged her.

In her husband’s arms, Hermione’s eyes searched for Harry. He looked at her, smiled weakly and disapparated.

16. Unchained Melodies

A/N: I was in a weird mood when I wrote this chapter. It features a couple of songs,that I thought fit the mood of the characters. This chapter is short, but the next one is ready, so I’ll update it very soon.

Chapter 15 – Unchained Melodies

Hermione was curled up in her rocking chair, next to the window of her new – and expensive – house. Her gaze was fixed in the empty street outside, but her mind was really wondering far away.

Two weeks had passed since Harry had rescued Danny in Kent, and she hadn’t seen him since. She didn’t know if that made her feel sad or relieved. Now that she knew that he had really loved her after all, and their relationship hadn’t been just an affair to him, life seemed a lot more complicated to her, even if she felt a guilty happiness because of it. She couldn’t stop thinking about him, about what he had gone through while she thought he was having a great time with other women...

And what would happened if she had known.

But there was no point in thinking “what if...” They both had a life of their own now. She was married to another man. She wasn’t in love with Draco, but regretting their marriage would mean regretting having Daniel, and Hermione loved that boy more than she loved herself. It was the only thing worthy in her current life.

And Harry had married Ginny, her best friend, the only link to her happy childhood. It was true that the first days after Harry told her about Azkaban, she had been angry with Ginny for lying to her. But thinking things over, she knew it wasn’t her fault. Ginny had probably told her she was in contact with Harry to feel less lonely. If she, Hermione, had been honest from the beginning, and told Ginny about her relationship with Harry, none of this would have happened. Ginny obviously wasn’t aware that she had married the love of her life and had somehow pushed her into another man’s arms.

Hermione wasn’t sure why she hadn’t told Ginny what had happened between Harry and her when she had the chance. Maybe it was because, deep down inside, she knew that the “he’s like my brother” speech that Gin always used when she talked about Harry, was a lie. Ginny had always been in love with him... Hermione hadn’t even thought about her friend before falling for Harry, not to mention getting involved with him.

She was a lousy friend.

And a lousy wife, too. She had just had a huge fight with Draco. He had complained that she never let him touch her anymore. Sex was an inexistent activity in the Malfoy’s house since Hermione had seen Harry again. But she couldn’t bear Draco touching her when her body ached for another man. It was like betraying both of them.

Right now, it was 3 a.m. and she wasn’t planning to go to their bedroom. She’d rather stay right where she sat. Trying to forget her troubles for a while of, she turned on the muggle radio she had bought when she was in Spain, a good memory of her time with her parents.

A song was playing... She listened to the lyrics and her heart stopped beating for a second.

“Everybody’s got something they had to leave behind

On regret from yesterday that just seems to grow with time

There’s no use looking back or wondering

How it could be now or might have been

Oh this I know, but still I can’t find ways to let you go”

It was just the way she was feeling now... A tear rolled down her cheek.

“I never had a dream come true

Till the day that I found you

Even though I pretend that I’ve moved on

You’ll always be my baby

I never found the words to say

You’re the one I think about each day

And I know no matter where life takes me to

A part of me will always be with you”

She tried to wipe them away, but it was useless.

“Somewhere in my memory I’ve lost all sense of time

And so my road can never be ‘cause yesterday is all that fills my mind

There’s no use looking back or wondering

How it should be now or might have been

Oh this I know but still I can’t find ways to let you go”

You’ll always be the dream that fills my head

Yes you will, say you will, you know you will, oh baby

You’ll always be the one I know I’ll never forget

There’s no use looking back or wondering

Because love is a strange and funny thing

No matter how I try and try I just can’t say goodbye”

“But I have to,” she said to the radio. “I have to be able to say goodbye.”

* * *

Not very far from there, there was someone else wide awake. Ginny was lying in her king sized bed, not able to fall asleep. And the reason for this insomnia was sleeping next to her: it was Harry, who didn’t seem as if he was even in the same bed with her. He was curled up in the edge, as if he was trying to avoid any contact with her.

It had been like this for a while; two weeks she’d say. Or giving it another thought, Harry’s distance had started a little after they had arrived in London. He was so different from who he was when they spent that year living in Paris, after they got married. That time had been pure bliss for her... But now, she felt that the only thing that made her happy was drifting away.

Maybe her husband was having an affair. She couldn’t imagine him cheating on her, but what other explanation could there be for his long absences? He went out earlier each morning and arrived at home really late. If he had traveled a lot before, due to his work, now he traveled excessively on the weekends.

Ginny was afraid. What if Harry left her? Without him, she would be back in La Sante, with all her demons and fears... She had to stop him. But how?

“He wants a child,” a voice said inside her head.

‘But that’s impossible. I can’t...’ she thought back.

“He doesn’t know that.”

* * *

Harry tried to keep himself busy to stop thinking. He was working really hard as the Manager of the Weasley Wizard Wheezes in the UK – the twins had moved to the US to manage their stores there and had left Harry in charge – and as the Head of the Sirius Black Foundation.

Nothing worked. No matter what he did, he always ended up thinking about Hermione.

She had seemed so surprised when he told her he had been caught and sent to Azkaban. He thought she would figure out that something like that had happened to him. Why else would he stop writing to her?

But she had married someone else. She hadn’t waited for him. She had assumed he had abandoned her... Had she really loved him like he loved her? He knew she had. He could see it her eyes the few times they were together.

Did she still love him? He couldn’t be sure. Maybe she loved Draco and he was just part of the past, as he had pretended she was all this time.

The muggle radio of his secretary was on. He could hear a song playing.

“We met as two total strangers

As many lovers often do

But who could have ever seen the danger

I didn’t know I’d fall in love with you

You are this lonely picker’s daydream

Like a wish that’s wishing to come true

So Liberty just know I’m waiting

To share this love song with you

But do you think about me

When you’re lying in his bed?

Won’t you take the time to explain?

Do you ever think you’d rather be with me instead?

Or do you only think about me when it rains?

We shared some special nights together

We said we’d watch the morning rise

But when the sun was all around us

Wasn’t nothing I hadn’t seen in your eyes

I try so hard to keep it hidden

But I am hurting deep inside

For every time I’ve seen you smile

There are two times that I have cried

Or do you only think about me when it rains

Now and forever my life will be the same

I will be waiting underneath the pouring rain”

He stood up angrily and threw the radio against the wall, startling his secretary who looked at him in shock. It wasn’t normal to see Harry Potter upset.

He muttered a quick apology before a quiet “Reparo”, and locked himself in his office for the rest of the day.

* * *

Hermione didn’t want to go, but she had to. After all, it was the inauguration party of “Virginia Weasley Fashion”, the company where she and her husband worked now.

She was wearing a black dress; simple, yet beautiful. She tied her hair up in a bun. She would never look as gorgeous as Ginny, but at least she was presentable. The place Ginny had chosen for the party was her house. Another visit to the Potter’s palace. Joy.

As soon as she entered in the room, she caught Harry’s gaze upon her. She tried her best not to melt right then and there, and followed Ginny and Draco to make the correspondent speech and presentation.

The evening went smoothly. Harry was with Ginny all of the time, and Hermione stayed beside Draco. That was until the band that Ginny had hired started playing.

At first, she danced with her husband. She was actually having a good time – at least better than she had had in a long time. But Ginny came out of nowhere, and asked to dance with Draco. Hermione smiled at her, and walked towards the bar.

An arm stopped her in the way. She didn’t have to look to tell it was him.

“Would you like to dance?” Harry said, softly.

She wanted to refuse, but she didn’t. Harry put one hand on her waist and took her hand with the other. They had never danced before, Hermione thought, and kicked herself mentally for doing it.

For a while they stayed in silence. Hermione couldn’t see Draco, Ginny or anyone else for that matter. She could only smell Harry’s scent and hear his breath in her ear. She thought she would be all right, until the band started playing that song.

“Oh, my love, my darling,

I've hungered for your touch a long, lonely time,

And time goes by so slowly and time can do so much

Are you still mine?”

Shaking, she looked up at Harry. She was staring at her. They didn’t speak, but they both were thinking the same thing. It was as if they had written that song... That’s exactly how they felt.

“I need your love, I need your love,

God speed your love to me.

Lonely rivers flow to the sea, to the sea

To the open arms of the sea”

Hermione couldn’t believe it. It was as if all the singers in the world were plotting against her, to make her feel something she was so hard trying not to.

“Lonely rivers sigh, "Wait for me, wait for me"

"I'll be coming home, wait for me!"”

Harry whispered something, but she couldn’t hear it. All she could think about was how good it felt to have their hands locked... The stupid song wasn’t helping her at all. She needed something to forget about him, not to love him even more.

“Are you still mine?

I need your love, I need your love, God speed your love to me”

The song ended, but they remained where they were. If they were any closer, their bodies would have melted.

“Hermione...” he said, his eyes piercing her in that special way of his.

“Harry, dear, here you are,” Ginny’s voice came.

And suddenly, the magic was over. Hermione came to her senses and pulled away from Harry. She looked at Ginny who had just came with Draco behind and forced a smile.

“Your husband is a very good dancer,” she said, in a strange cheerful voice.

“Yours is not bad,” the red headed laughed. “Come here honey, I have to tell you something.”

Harry followed his wife, sighing and rubbing the bridge of his nose. She led him to the garden and sat by the fountain.

“What is it?” he asked.

“I have great news for you, darling,” she said. “I could have told you sooner, but I wanted to wait for the right moment.”

Harry nodded, inviting her to continue. He was still numb after that dance.

“Harry... I’m pregnant.”

* * *

That was an evil way to end this, I know. But I think you’ll like the next chapter. Ginny’s “pregnancy” will be explained, of course.

The songs featured (just in case you didn’t recognize them) were: “Never had a Dream come true” (S Club 7), “Liberty” (Vertical Horizon) and “Unchained Melody” (from the Righteous Brothers and one of the most romantic movies in history: Ghost).

17. Crossroads

Chapter 16 - Crossroads

September 2003

As Ginny had predicted, “Virginia Weasley Fashion” became a huge success in less than three months. She knew that part of it was because she was Harry Potter’s wife, and even though Harry wasn’t related to the company, he always went with her to the meetings and parties. He hated it. Harry wasn’t much of a sociable guy, but he did it just to please her. That was what she had expected from him. Now that he believed she was pregnant, he was extremely caring, and didn’t let anyone to upset her.

But the success was also due to Hermione’s fantastic designs. Ginny hated to admit it, but that woman had an incredible talent. But who cared, anyway? All the designs were under her –Ginny’s- name, and no one had to know that a poor muggle-born witch was the brain of everything. Even Harry thought that everything was Ginny’s creation.

Under other circumstances, Ginny wouldn’t have minded that Hermione got the credit she deserved. But things weren’t like that. She needed to have control over every aspect of the Malfoy’s lives to carry on with her plan. She was going to lift them high in the sky, and then let them fall flat on the ground. She had to make Hermione’s life miserable. She didn’t want to, but it was her duty. She had promised her father.

* * *

One of the things Hermione liked about working with Ginny was that she could make her designs at home and she didn’t need to leave Daniel alone. She was now working on a new style in robes she had been thinking about.

That afternoon, she was alone in that big house. Draco had taken Daniel to a fair. It was amazing how attached that boy was to his father. That was one of the main reasons why Hermione felt like she could never break them apart. And she had given it a thought. After that party and sharing that dance with Harry she had found herself wondering a lot what would have happened if they had been alone, if there hadn’t been any interruptions.

Seeing the look that Harry gave her that time, the way that their hands touched, she realized that the sparks were still there. And she had imagined herself leaving all she had now and running away with the love of her life. But she knew she couldn’t.

Neither could Harry. He was going to be a father now. She still remembered when Ginny had told her the big news. She had been happy for them, but at the same time, sad and drepressed. Nothing could be done now. She would have to learn to find some happiness, even without love.

A head she didn’t recognize popped in the fireplace, startling her.

“Good afternoon, are you Mrs. Malfoy?” the middle aged woman asked.

“Yes,” Hermione replied.

“We are calling you from St. Mungo’s. We have a patient under the name of Virginia Weasley here...”

Hermione didn’t let her finish. She apparated immediately in St. Mungo’s. Why was Ginny at the hospital? She knew that they had called her because Harry was out of the country. As soon as she reached the ward where Ginny was supposed to be, she spotted a tall wizard with a white apron walking towards her.

“Are you Mrs. Malfoy?” the man asked. Hermione nodded. “My name is Ludo Bagman, I am the Healer taking care of Mrs. Potter’s pregnancy...”

“Is Ginny alright?” Hermione cut him off.

The man nodded. “She’s fine. But her baby... I’m afraid she’s lost it.”

Hermione gasped. It couldn’t be! A miscarriage? “But what happened?”

“She fell down the stairs- terrible accident.”

Hermione took a deep breath. “I want to see her,” she demanded.

“I’ll take you to her room.” Hermione followed Bagman towards Ginny’s room. “We sent an owl to Mr. Potter with the news,” he informed her before Hermione entered in the room.

Ginny was asleep. Her face was peaceful. Hermione sat on a chair beside her bed, feeling awful. Her poor friend... She had given up her first child and now had lost the second. And Harry... Her heart ached just thinking how he would feel when he read that letter... And he was going to be alone in that moment. How she wished to be with him...

Stop it, Hermione, she ordered herself. Ginny shifted in the bed and opened her eyes slowly. She met her gaze.

“Hermione,” she said, not sounding surprised at all.

“How are you feeling?” Hermione asked, taking her friend’s hand.

“Fine,” Ginny sighed. “Does... Harry know?” she asked, slowly.

Hermione’s eyes filled with tears and she wiped them away quickly. “They sent him an owl. He’ll be here as soon as he gets it.”

“He wanted so bad to be a father,” Ginny sobbed.

“You’ll have your chance,” Hermione whispered. “I’m sure of that.”

“Yeah... Thanks for coming.”

Hermione nodded.

She stayed with Ginny for a really long time. It was night already, and the red-head was asleep with the help of some spell the nurse had put on her. Hermione didn’t want to leave until someone arrived to be with her.

A little past 9 o’clock, the door of the room opened. Hermione turned around to check if it was some other nurse, or maybe Bagman this time, but it wasn’t any of them. It was Harry. He had probably taken the first Floo Connection he could find. He was still carrying his suitcase. He didn’t notice Hermione and he walked straight to the bed.

“She’ll sleep until tomorrow,” Hermione whispered, and Harry jumped at the sound of her voice. When he turned to look at her, she noticed his face was pale and his eyes were sad and worried.

“I didn’t know you were here,” he whispered back. “Thank you.”

“You don’t have to thank me, she’s my friend,” Hermione said, giving a quick glance to Ginny and then turning to Harry again. “Harry, I’m so sorry,” she said, sincerely.

Harry just stared at her, not able to speak. He looked tired and helpless, and Hermione felt the urgency to hug him, like she had done that time in Hagrid’s barn, or in Spain’s chalet, when he had let her see a little more of his soul. But their life was different then. There were just the two of them. She looked at his eyes. His expression was unreadable.

Hermione took a step towards him and he did the same. She felt awkward. She didn’t know what to do, and he was probably feeling the same way. A soft breathing made Hermione aware that Ginny was in the room, after going through a really hard time.

“I should probably go,” she said, avoiding Harry’s look. She left the room as quickly as she could. Facing Harry was getting harder every time, even when, after the incident in Kent, his attitude towards her was still polite, but not cold.

Forget him, she pleaded. Please.

* * *

Ginny was ready to go home. She was waiting for Harry, who was settling the paperwork. Everything had been so easy, she was amazed. All she had to do was find a greedy Healer with no morals, like Ludo Bagman, pay him a good amount of money and make him her ally. Bagman had done his job incredibly well, and Ginny guessed this wasn’t the first time he had pulled an act like this. Thanks to him, everyone had believed that she was pregnant and that she had tragically lost her baby in an unfortunate accident.

She deserved some credit too. She was one hell of an actress. The tears she had cried when she woke up and found Harry beside her bed had been so real that for a moment she believed her story. Of course, as she had known he would, Harry had blamed himself.

“I shouldn’t have left you alone,” he said.

“Harry...” she put a hand over his. She didn’t tell him it wasn’t his fault, though. She wanted him to feel guilty. As long as he felt responsible for her, he wouldn’t leave her. If she had to pretend another pregnancy and miscarriage to do that, she would.

* * *

When Ginny went back to the company, she started to work on her plan. And her best ally was Draco Malfoy, although he wasn’t aware of that. All Ginny had to do is offer him some temptations, and he did everything all by himself.

“Draco, look at this place. This is where Harry buys his suits and robes. It’s a little bit expensive, but you won’t find anything better in this country.”

“Here you can find the best champaigne...”

“If you want to buy some flowers, you can go here...”

Draco was a compulsive spendthrift. Ginny knew, by looking at Hermione, that this was causing trouble in their marriage.

Hermione, on the other hand, was starting to get desperate. She couldn’t control Draco’s expenses. He was spending so much. Clothes, furniture, paintings, toys for Daniel, jewels for her, a racing broom... She was in charge of the bills, and everyday at least ten more arrived to her house. She tried to pay everything on time, but even with their new salary, it was hard. She had tried to talk to Draco, to make him understand, but it was worse than talking to a wall. He was so desperate to show everyone that he was rich and important, that he didn’t realize he wasn’t. Hermione was tired of being the bitter one who spoiled everything for him.

* * *

January 2004

“Draco, I want to introduce you to someone,” Ginny said one day. It had been four months after her ‘miscarriage’, and Daniel was almost four years old.

The ‘someone’ that Ginny wanted to introduce to him turned out to be the most stunning woman Draco had ever seen. “This is Chloe, and she will be the face of Virginia Weasley from now on. Chloe comes from America, and she doesn’t know the city very well. It will be your job to make her feel at home.”

Draco accepted the task eagerly. Chloe turned out to be a fun girl. She asked him to take her out for some drinks. He hadn’t had such a great time in a while. Hermione didn’t like bars, or going out for that matter. She was always so complicated. For once, Draco felt young again – he was only twenty-three, after all. When she took him to the most expensive hotel in London, he didn’t complain. She suggested he should charge the room to the company’s account. “It’s what big executives do,” she said. The magic words when it came to Draco. Chloe made him feel alive again, and after that night, it was a regular thing for them to meet in different hotels, to have a bit of what Draco wasn’t getting from his wife.

He had never cheated on Hermione before, and certainly, he had felt guilty at first. But then, he convinced himself it was better for their marriage. He was in a better mood and him and Hermione weren’t fighting as much as they used to- a great therapy indeed.

Ginny observed Draco and Chloe closely. The model she had hired was doing a great job with Malfoy, after all. Inside, she was angry at her. How did that skinny bitch dare to sleep with her friend’s husband? The saddest part was that Hermione didn’t even notice. Or maybe she did, but she didn’t care. Ginny often got scared of these fraternal feelings that her enemy awoke in her. How was she supposed to destroy her life if she was still attached to her in some odd way?

Every time that happened, she had to remember her father. It worked like the best magic, and the hatred appeared again. It was the only way to keep going.

* * *

Ginny also found a little pleasure showing Hermione and Draco that they didn’t belong in her world after all. That particular night, she invited them to a dinner at her house with some of the most important wizards in London. Draco had made a fool of himself trying to impress them, and Hermione had found herself quite out of place with their financial and political chat.

“Why did you invite the Malfoys with these people coming?” Harry asked her when everyone had left and they were getting ready to sleep. “They didn’t look very comfortable.”

“Yes, I noticed that too. Well, it’s not my fault, dear. I’m just being generous and introducing them to some of our friends. I forget that Draco and Hermione are different from us.”

Harry frowned at this comment, but didn’t say anything.

“Honey?” Ginny said, a little later.

“Yes?” Harry replied, his back turned to her as he pretended to be falling asleep.

“I’ve been thinking... We should try to be parents again. It’s been a while since the last time we...”

“I’m tired, Gin,” Harry cut her off quickly. “Good night.”

* * *

“Hermione, are you sick?” Ginny asked, slightly worried when her friend went to the office that morning with some of her designs.

“No, I’m okay,” she replied. “I’m just tired.”

“Are you having trouble at home?”

Hermione made a pause before answering. She didn’t want to worry Ginny with her troubles with Draco and the bills. “Nothing serious, don’t worry, I’ll be fine.”

“If you say so... Have you gotten any ideas for the new collection?”

“Actually yes, I have. There’s something on my mind, but I haven’t been able to focus on it properly. If you give me some time...” she sighed. Time was something she didn’t have so much of in her house.

Ginny eyed Hermione thoughtfully. Her friend didn’t look good. There were purple bags under her eyes, and her skin was a little yellow. It was obvious she was going through a hard time. ‘But that’s what I want!’ she thought. However, another part of her, the one that still cared about Hermione, made an appearence.

“I have an idea,” Ginny said, slowly. “Harry and I have a small apartment in Taxco, Mexico. Is a small muggle town, a lovely place, you’ll love it.”

“What are you saying?” Hermione asked.

“You should take a week. Go there, alone, rest and work on that new collection. What do you say?”

“Gin, thanks for the offer, but I can’t leave now. There’s Danny, Draco, my house...”

“Oh come on, they’ll be all right. It’s just a week. You need a break. You know what? I’m not going to take a no for an answer! This is an order. You’re leaving tomorrow. End of conversation.”

* * *

Taxco was, indeed, a wonderful place. It was small and picturesque, the place where all the fantastic silver jewelry from Mexico was made. Hermione loved it the very minute she stepped on it.

The Potter’s ‘small flat’ was bigger than the house she had lived in before starting to work with Ginny. She took a nap, then decided to walk a little through the town to buy some souvenirs for Draco, Danny and Ginny.

The main street was full of small stores. She spent a great amount of time looking at the jewerly. There was a silver chain with a cross that caught her eye, and she debated with herself if she should buy it or not. Draco had given her jewelry, but it was too much for her. She preferred something simple, like this. However, after having the chain in her hand for a long time, she decided not to buy it. It was too expensive anyway.

Two hours later, she entered in a small restaurant. She approached to the counter.

“I’d like a beer and some enchiladas, please,” she asked in Spanish.

“You should be careful with the enchiladas. They are very spicy here,” a voice said behind her, in English.

Hermione turned around violently. Harry was sitting behind a small table beside the window, looking at her calmly.

“What are you doing here?” she asked, not able to hide her surprise.

“Having lunch,” Harry replied simply, although his table was empty.

“You know what I’m talking about,” she said.

“Well, I happen to own an apartment here.”

“I know, that’s where I’m staying.”

“Really? That’s a coincidence,” he commented, accomodating his glasses. “By the way, I never knew you were so careful when you shopped.”

Hermiones eyes widened. “You’ve been following me?” she accused.

Harry shrugged. “Yes.”

Hermione turned to the waiter and cancelled her order. She stormed out of the restaurant. Harry followed her outside.

“Where are you going?” he asked.

“I’m going to your apartment to pick up my stuff,” she said, walking quickly through the street and not looking at him.

“Why?”

“Because I’m not staying if you are. I’ll go to a hotel.” Hermione took a small blind alley that was empty and disapparated, apparating immediately in the apartment. Harry apparated only a second after her.

“You don’t have to leave,” he said.

“Of course I have to. This is your place. If you want to use it, I’m not going to disturb you,” she said, grabbing her suitcase and opening it on the bed.

“Stop,” he said, grabbing her arm and turning her around.

Hermione was faced with his eyes, what she had been fearing since she had heard his voice. She swallowed hard and tried her best to remain calm so he wouldn’t notice she was shaking.

“How did you know I was here?” she asked.

“Ginny told me you’d be staying here for a week. I should be in New York by now, but I followed a strange hunch and came here instead.”

“Why?” she asked, faintly.

“Because... because I wanted to see you. I needed to see you.”

Hermione held back the tears and backed away slowly. He let her go, but his eyes didn’t leave her. “I’ll go,” she said, walking to the door.

“Do you want to?” he asked, and she stopped. “Do you want to leave, Hermione?” he repeated.

She had so many reasons to say yes. HER husband, HIS wife, fidelity, loyalty to her friend, her own emotional –and mental- well being, but not one of them was good enough. She turned around slowly and their eyes locked.

“No.”

* * *

A/N: See?? I Do have a heart! I do love H/Hr and hate H/G and Hr/D. Of course, you might still think I’m evil for leaving such a cliffhanger...

From now on, this story will get a lot more intense, trust me on that.

Again, I thank you for the reviews. This chapter was beta read by Emily, as usual. She has done an incredible job and I’m really thankful.

18. A Taste of Yesterday

A/N: Sorry to leave you all hanging with the last chapter! I hope you’ll forgive me with this one.

When I said that the story would be more “intense” I meant the plot and the things that will happen. Sorry to disappoint some of you, but this is a PG-13 story and I intend to keep it that way.

Thanks to Emily, for her beta reading, and to Nitya, for her encouragement.

Chapter 17 – A Taste of Yesterday

“No.”

She couldn’t leave. No matter how she tried, she knew that she wouldn’t be able to leave that apartment now. A force much stronger than her will and sense had taken over her.

And before Harry could say anything, she ran and wrapped her arms desperately around his neck. He hugged her tightly, letting out the breath he had been holding. Hermione caressed his cheek, looking directly into his eyes. He pressed his lips against hers, and after a brief second of hesitation, she welcomed him.

Those five years had never happened. They were again in that cold barn, struggling to save their lives, finding confort in each other. Hermione knew with that kiss that her love for him had only grown with time. She didn’t want to let go; she needed to feel him close to her. She felt the salty taste of her tears in her mouth and pulled away a little. It wasn’t just her tears that she had tasted. He was crying too. Tears raining down his face, his eyes sparkling with liquid joy. She could feel the hot tears coming out of her eyes too. It was useless to wipe them away. They wouldn’t stop falling.

There was no need for words. They understood how the other felt. Hermione kissed him again, this time with urgency. He led her slowly to the bed without pulling away.

* * *

“You’re a different person.”

“From the one I was before going to the war?” he asked softly, kissing her forehead.

She lifted her head a little to look at him. His arms were around her and she had been leaning on his chest, taking in his scent, the one she had missed for so long. Outside, the sun had already set, and Hermione knew they had spent a lot of time lying in bed. She didn’t care. She was too amazed and happy. She would have gladly stayed there her whole life.

“From the one you are in London,” she said, tracing his lips with her finger.

“Oh, him,” Harry said. “He is another person, totally dedicated to his job as Head of the Sirius Black foundation; a polite, respected and formal guy. I don’t like him very much, so sometimes I leave him alone.”

“And what do you do then?” she asked.

“I think about you.”

She smiled and her gaze fell on his arm. The one she had noticed before. The skin was red and it wasn’t soft, like the rest of his body was. She touched the arm softly and she felt him shudder. “Does it hurt?”

“No. I don’t feel anything there, actually.”

Hermione incorporated a little to have a better look at his face. “What happened to you?”

“In Azkaban, there was a FOS agent who wanted me to reveal some information... you probably wouldn’t want to hear such an old story...”

“You’d rather not talk about it?”

“I never have...”

“You don’t have to,” she said quickly, afraid to bring back some terrible memories for him.

Harry stared at her for a moment, and then turned his eyes to the ceiling. He folded his arms behind his head. “Remember I told you I had gotten caught after meeting you in Madrid?” She nodded. “Well, they took me to Azkaban right away. The first month nothing happened, they just had me locked up in a cell...” His voice was expressionless and monotone. “Then, they took me to the ‘special treatment’ area.”

“Special treatment?” she repeated. She didn’t like how that sounded.

“I don’t know if special treatment was supposed to be good or bad. If I had been just a regular Resistance agent, I would have probably gotten killed immediately. However, I was Harry Potter. Not only I was the Boy Who Lived, but one of the closest members to Godric Gryffindor. They asumed I knew almost every plan the Resistance had...”

He made a pause. His eyes were still fixed on the ceiling, as if what he was saying had been written there and he was just reading it.

“I had a lot of information. Not all of it, but enough to interest the very same Salazar Slytherin. That’s why they couldn’t kill me. I was a valuable member in the opposite band, and they even thought that they could offer Gryffindor my freedom in exchange for his withdraws. With time, they realized it was ridiculous, and they focused on making me spill what I knew. One of the Generals used this spell... It was worse than the Cruciatus Curse. He only aimed for my arm, he couldn’t risk my life. He cast that curse on me every day, three hours in a row. Then, he locked me up in a steel cell 2 feet high. I had to curled myself up into a ball to fit in...”

Hermione gasped softly. She could only imagine how much he had suffered with all that those bastards had done to him. He had spent almost two years in Azkaban. She was amazed that he had made it out alive. She wouldn’t have lasted more than a week for sure.

“My arm never really recovered. At least it doesn’t hurt anymore,” he said. Finally, his eyes started to move again, and he looked at Hermione. He realized she was crying for him and pulled her closer. “I was lucky,” he said softly. “I survived. I’m here, with you again...”

She held him tightly. They would never be able to repair what the war had done to them, but, at least, she was willing to show him that he was no longer alone.

“By the way, I have something for you,” Harry said. “Accio!” A shiny thing flew to his hand. “You stared at it for so long in the market, I thought you had to have it.” He opened his hand for Hermione to see it what was inside.

It was the silver cross she had spent so much time admiring.

* * *

A little later, Harry suggested they could go out to have something to eat. They walked through the barely illuminated street, hand in hand. Hermione could understand why Harry had bought an apartment in Taxco. It was a small, lovely place, where no one recognized him or his scar.

They went to a small restaurant that Harry knew and they enjoyed the home-made cooking. Hermione had naver tasted Mexican food before. It was a bit spicy, as Harry had warned her, but delicious none the less.

“I’m sorry about your parents,” Harry said suddenly, while Hermione was trying to eat her taco without it falling apart.

She looked at him, slightly surprised. She had imagined that, after his story of his time in Azkaban, he wouldn’t want to bring up the subject of the war again.

“Thanks,” she said. “I’m sorry about Ron,” she added.

Harry let out a sigh and took a sip of his beer. “He died when they caught me and sent me to Azkaban,” he said. “We were ambushed. Someone we trusted from the Resistance was actually a double agent for the FOS. He gave us a ‘clue’ and led us right to them. It wasn’t very smart of me to fall for it. I had a responsibility and-”

“Harry, don’t do this to yourself... please,” Hermione said, grabbing his hand across the table.

He smiled slightly at her, squeezing her hand. “Ron knew about us.”

“Really?” she asked, surprised.

He nodded. “He realized something was going on with me when I met him after leaving you in Vizcaya. He had a unique way of getting information out of you, so I told him. Do you know what he said? That I was some lucky bastard.”

Hermione laughed. “He said that?”

“Yes. He said he knew I was going to fall for you if I met you. He was really happy for us...” He paused, playing with his food. “We made a promise. If something happened to me, Ron was going to take care of you... If something happened to him...”

“You would take care of Ginny,” Hermione finished for him. “That’s what you’re doing Harry.”

“I never planned to marry her,” he said.

Hermione decided it was enough. She didn’t want to talk about that now. They had to enjoy this little time they would have together. So, they made a silent pact not to talk about Draco or Ginny for the rest of the week.

* * *

People who saw them in the streets probably thought they were a couple of newlyweds on their honeymoon. In those five days, Hermione forgot all of her troubles and was truly happy, maybe for the first time in her life. The life they had in London didn’t come to her mind until the last day she was supposed to spend there. Harry wanted to show her his favorite place in Taxco.

“I haven’t asked you before,” Harry said, when they were still in the apartment. “Why did you bring so many parchments?”

Hermione giggled. “I was supposed to work in this week. I had to design the entire new collection, but someone didn’t let me.”

“Design the new collection?” Harry repeated, confused. “You make the designs?”

She nodded. “They’re under Ginny’s name, though. She makes some corrections, she has the glamorous taste, I don’t… Why?”

Harry shook his head. “It’s nothing. Let’s go.”

* * *

Harry’s favorite place turned out to be one of the mountains that surrounded the town. Hermione looked at it, not very sure.

“Are we going to climb to the top?” she asked.

Harry nodded. “You won’t regret it, come on.”

The path wasn’t very easy to follow. Harry had to help Hermione several times.

“This isn’t fair,” she complained. “I’m a city girl!”

“I’ve made you go through worse places, haven’t I?” Harry asked, smiling.

Finally, they reached the top. And as Harry had told her, it was totally worth it. She got a full view of Taxco, and the sight was simply amazing.

“Wow,” she breathed, feeling the cold breeze in her face.

Harry embraced her from behind and they stared at the horizon in silence for a while. A couple of drops of water started falling, and soon enough, it was raining hard. Hermione didn’t feel like apparating back to the apartment yet, so Harry and her went to a small cave that Harry knew of and sat inside, waiting for the rain to stop. Harry summoned some hot coffee.

“I love Taxco,” Hermione commented after a long silence. “I wish I could stay here forever, not having to go back.”

Harry’s features darkened at her comment. “Hermione...” he started.

“Harry, I have to return this afternoon. I think that, if we are going to talk about the future, now it’s the time.”

He nodded, sighing. “I don’t think I can leave Ginny,” he said.

Hermione smiled sadly. “I know... This time together has been amazing, but we don’t need to feel commited to each other.”

Harry gazed at her for a moment, and then looked down. “Most of the time, I hate her.”

“Ginny?” she asked, surprised. “I know that you aren’t madly in love with her, but you have always seemed so perfect for each other. You have the same friends and like the same things, and she has always loved you, Harry...”

“This week I couldn’t help to think that my life could have been like this,” he said, ignoring her comment.

“I think about that too, but what’s the point?” she sighed and ran a hand through her hair. “I have a life already. There’s Danny... He adores Draco, and he’s a great father. I have never been in love with him, but I like him. Everyone likes him. He’s nice and funny...” she trailed off. Harry didn’t look very pleased to hear her talk about her husband. “I can’t abandon him... I can’t make Danny abandon him.”

Another long silence followed. The sound of the rain echoed inside the cave. Harry and Hermione were sitting a few feet apart. They were staring at each other, each of them expecting that the other would talk next.

“When I married Ginny, I wasn’t very well,” Harry said then. “I had come out of Azkaban not too long ago, and I had just found out that you had married another guy. Let’s just say I wasn’t in my five senses. Remus tried to convince me that I was making a mistake, that I was ruining my life for good. But I didn’t have any life left, Hermione. You were my life, and you were gone. And I wanted to take care of Ginny. It was my fault all of that had happened to her-”

“It wasn’t your fault, Harry!” Hermione interrupted him. “I know that you feel responsible for what happened to Mr. and Mrs. Weasley, but it’s not your fault the FOS found out about their activities.”

“Yes, it is my fault; I led them to Arthur and Molly.”

“No, you didn’t! You honestly believe that?”

“I have proof,” he said, his voice not raising in contrast with Hermione’s.

“And who gave them to you? Ginny?”

Harry took another sip of his coffee. “She’s trying to make me feel guilty, of course. But she couldn’t be lying with something like that. She told me they had asked Arthur about me in La Sante. They were looking for me, and that’s why they took them away.”

Hermione swallowed. That wasn’t what Ginny had told her. She had said someone had betrayed her father and had revealed about his activities to the FOS agents.

“That’s not it—”

“Hermione, I don’t want to argue about this,” he said. “I’m just trying to explain to you why I have such mixed feelings for Ginny. Why, despite everything, I can’t leave her.”

“She’s always been complicated,” Hermione said, lowering her voice.

“You’re telling me about it! Everything she has lived through has turned her into a very sick woman.” With a violent movement, he stood up and walked towards the entrance of the cave. For a second, Hermione thought he was going to go out, but he just stood there, his back turned to her. “She was never pregnant.”

Hermione blinked, trying to understand his words. “Yes she was.”

Harry turned around. “No. She lies about everything: the pregnancy, her work as a designer... She thinks I don’t realize it.” He sat again, leaning against the cave wall. “A child would have made this situation a little more bearable... When she had the miscarriage, I blamed myself. If I had been there, maybe she wouldn’t have had that accident. But then, I started to suspect. So I visited Severus Snape, a healer she had once gone to. He was very surprised that Ginny had been expecting a baby. He told me Ginny couldn’t conceive.”

He felt silent. Hermione bit her lip. That wasn’t true. Ginny could conceive. She had a son already. She wanted to tell Harry that, to stand up for her friend in some impulsive act of loyalty. But she couldn’t. If Harry found out that Daniel was Ginny’s child, she would take him away from her, and Hermione couldn’t bear that.

“It wasn’t my intention to trouble you with my problems,” Harry said, and Hermione realized he had sat by her side.

She smiled at him, but then her eyes filled with tears. Harry slowly wiped them away. “I love you. From the instant I met you, and no matter what happens and how much time goes on, I won’t be ever able to forget you.”

She realized it was the first time he told her he loved her since they had met again. Even though they had silently showed their feelings for each other remained, they hadn’t said it out loud. “I love you,” she said, hugging him tightly. He kissed her gently on the lips.

They stayed like that until it stopped raining and they had to go back. Hand in hand they walked towards the apartment, knowing that both of them were doomed to a loveless marriage and a life apart from each other.

* * *

Hermione went back to England first. She had said goodbye to Harry in Mexico. They – well, she – had decided it would be better not to see each other again. It would only make things more painful. They loved each other too much to have a furtive relationship. That would only hurt them more. She replayed their last conversation in her head before entering in her house.

“What is going to happen in London?” Harry had asked when she was packing her suitcase.

“I want to see you...”

“But?” he asked.

“I wouldn’t be able to hide it. And we both agreed we can’t end our marriages.”

Harry looked devastated, but his voice didn’t change. “Do you want me to make you change your mind?”

She shook her head and started to cry again. “I wish we were different people,” she sobbed in his chest.

“I know,” he said, and kissed her.

One last, final kiss.

* * *

A/N: You didn’t think it would be that easy, did you? And yes, I realize this is a little Soap Opera-ish, but it’s a drama after all.

19. Falling to Pieces

A/N: Hello again. Here’s the new chapter. It doesn’t have H/Hr interaction, but it’s very important to the plot, so I hope you’ll be able to forget about that for a second.

This chapter has some strong language in it. I’m not very fond of that, but it’s necessary, considering what happens.

Thanks to my beta reader for her diligent work and to all of you who have taken the time to read and review.

Chapter 18 – Falling to Pieces

Ginny was awake when Harry arrived that night. Where had he been this time? Was it New York? She wasn’t sure. He had been away for a week and hadn’t called her or owled to her -not even once. She was prepared to confront him for his uncaring attitude, but every intention she had of playing the concerned and hurt wife faded away when she saw his face. He looked strange... tired... sad.

“Welcome back, dear,” she said, putting the book she had been reading aside. She was lying on their bed, in her blue nightgown.

Harry just leaned against the door frame, staring at her in silence. His expression was empty. Ginny’s fake smile faded.

“What?” she asked briskly.

“Have you ever thought about how much time we spend apart?” he asked in response.

Ginny looked at him, not hiding her surprise. What was this about? A frightening feeling came to her, and she tried her best to suppress it. “This time you were away more than you had planned to-”

“I’m not talking about that,” he cut her off.

“Then what are you talking about?” she asked with a high-pitched voice.

“We’ve reached a point where we are only together if we have a social commitement.”

Ginny blinked. Harry’s expression was calm, but something in his eyes was scaring her. She got out of the bed and walked towards him. Suddenly, the room felt really cold and she realized she was shaking.

“Who is it?” she asked, with a cynical smile.

“Who is who?” Harry asked, looking straight at her.

“The other woman... How did we say it in Paris? ‘Cherchez la femme’... You know, the one you are cheating on me with.”

If Harry was surprised by this, he didn’t show it. In fact, he didn’t even stirr. “This is about us.”

“It must be some meaningless affair if you don’t even make the effort to deny it,” Ginny said, her hands on her hips. She was trying to be tough, but she was terrified of the way the conversation was heading.

Harry eyed her for a long minute before speaking again. “Why did you lie to me about the pregnancy?”

She was so shocked with his question that she was sure someone had rubbed ice cubes against her spine. However, she somehow managed to keep a straight face.

“I assure you, I don’t understand what you’re saying, Harry.” Yes, her face was straight, but her voice was shaking so much that she was amazed she had been able to talk at all.

“You can’t have children,” Harry stated, his voice a little harsh.

“That’s a really interesting theory. Is it something your little friend came up with? Tell her that, if she wants, I can show her Ludo Bagman’s curriculum-”

“Ludo Bagman is a fraud, and you know it!” Harry interrupted her. Even when it was an exclamation, his voice didn’t raise at all. “I talked to Snape, Ginny.”

“I WAS pregant,” she hissed. “You can tell her that.”

Harry glared at her and left the room, probably to sleep in one of the guest’s.

That night, she had a terrible nightmare. She was back in La Sante. Her father was tied to a chair, covered in blood.

“You haven’t kept your promise, Virginia,” he said. “The traitor’s family hasn’t paid yet.”

“I’m working on it, dad!” she tried to explain.

“You’re not trying hard enough. You’re a shame to this family!”

“NOOOOO!” she screamed, sobbing.

“Gin... Gin!” a hand rested on her shoulder and she woke up with a start. Harry was sitting on the edge of the bed, staring at her with concern.

“A nightmare?” he asked softly.

She nodded. “I was back in there... My dad... He was tied to a chair...” her voice went out and she started crying again.

“It’s alright,” Harry said. “You’re safe now.”

“No, I’m not! I’ll never be!” she exclaimed.

She noticed his expression changed. He looked guilty and hurt. She still had that wild card. Harry felt responsible for what had happened to her. Although the fear from the nightmare had vanished, she kept crying just to make sure he wouldn’t leave.

Harry shut his eyes, and after a second of hesitation, he hugged her and let her cry on his shoulder.

Ginny smiled. Harry was still hers, after all.

* * *

Hermione was waiting for Ginny in one of those fancy restaurants she liked. She felt so uncomfortable there... She was sitting at one of the tables alone, and she could almost feel the other people gaze down on her. She took her suitcase and checked the drawings she had made to show Ginny.

After she had arrived back from Taxco, she had started working on them. For a week, she had successfully avoided going to the office. She knew she wasn’t going to be able to look her friend straight in the face after what she had done to her. She hadn’t known anything about Harry, and hopefully for both of them, it would keep being like that.

Now she had summoned all the courage she had to come to this lunch. After all, it was unavoidable to have a meeting with her boss. Why was she taking so long? Hermione knew that ten more minutes and she would definitely chicken out...

Ginny made her entrance in the restaurant dressed with a beautiful black skirt and a yellow blouse. She spotted Hermione and walked to the table. It was only when she had reached it that Hermione noticed she wasn’t alone.

A tall man was behind her. He had blond, wavy hair and sparkling blue eyes. Hermione was sure she had seen him somewhere...

“Hermione, please, let me introduce you to Mr. Gilderoy Lockhart,” Ginny said, and Lockhart shook Hermione’s hand. “I’m sure you know who he is,” Ginny added.

Hermione nodded, surprised. Gilderoy Lockhart was a reknowned fashion designer among the Wizarding World. She had read about him in several magazines. She looked at Ginny, expecting an explanation of why he was there, but the red head didn’t catch the hint... or she chose not too. She spent half an hour talking about meaningless stuff, mostly about people that Hermione didn’t know, but Lockhart was pretty familiar with.

This was strange. Why had Ginny invited that man to their lunch? Suddenly, Ginny checked her watch.

“Oh, my!” she said, standing up, “I have an appointment. Hermione, Gilderoy, you two stay here and talk... I’m sure you have a lot to discuss...”

“But Gin, I haven’t showed you the designs yet,” Hermione protested, not sure she liked the idea staying with Lockhart alone.

“Show them to Gilderoy. Bye!” and she left before Hermione could say anything else.

Show them to Lockhart...?

“Soooo,” Gilderoy said, turning to talk to her for the first time since they had met. “Mrs. Potter told me you give her a hand with the designs.”

“I make the original designs,” Hermione said, blushing. “Then she corrects them.”

Lockhart gave her a small smile. “I know what you mean,” he said. “I used to work with McPhee. I don’t know if you’ve heard of her...”

“Of course,” Hermione said. She might be not popular and famous like him, but she at least knew a lot about the fashion world, since it was her job.

“Well, she did the same thing. The woman couldn’t make the difference between a sleeve and a collar. But, in the end, she got all the credit for my work. So, before signing the contract with Mrs. Potter, I demanded that all the designs should say ‘Gilderoy Lockhart for Virginia Weasley’...”

Hermione almost spit her water in his face. “You came here to work with Ginny?” she choked.

Lockhart raised his eyebrows. “Don’t tell me you didn’t know she called me about a week ago...”

Hermione shook her head.

“Are you alright? You’re really pale,” he said. “I didn’t mean to scare you...”

“And where do I come in?” she asked. All this time she had been the only designer for the firm... How could she compete against Gilderoy Lockhart?

“Well, you’ll continue in your position, of course.”

“And what position is that?” she asked, a little rudely. “I’ve always worked for her, since she started this business.”

“And now you’ll work for me,” Lockhart said, simply.

“My collections have always been a success,” she insisted.

“I assure you, dear, that mine will be too. The Boss said she didn’t want someone who smelled of homemade cooking to be the face of her desings. She wanted someone with an image, like me.”

Hermione’s jaw dropped. She felt so angry and miserable... How could Ginny be so cruel to have this complete stranger telling her the news? How could she have said something like that about her? Or, most importantly, why? For a second, the idea that she could have found out about Harry and her crossed her mind, but it was impossible...

“I shouldn’t have told you this,” Lockhart said, apologizing.

“It’s not your fault.”

“You know, that woman is a bitch, I’m telling you,” he said in a whisper.

* * *

After Hermione left the restaurant, she decided to walk towards Ginny’s office. She couldn’t go home without settling this. And she didn’t want to apparate. She needed some time to clear her head.

But halfway there, she wasn’t sure if she was going to talk to Ginny about this at all. Who was Hermione Granger (it had been a long time since she had stopped thinking about herself with her husband’s last name) to accuse Ginny Weasley-Potter of treason?

She arrived to the building where ‘Virgina Weasley’’s offices were located. She stopped, hesitating about what she was going to do...

That minute of doubt gave her a chance to see something else, though, and soon, the whole Ginny thing was forgotten. She saw Draco leaving the building, his arm wrapped around Chloe’s waist. Hermione’s surprise was even bigger when the gorgeous model leaned and whispered something in his ear, and they started snogging right there.

Hermione stared at them, blinking. She started to laugh bitterly. This was so ridiculous, she was sure someone was playing a prank on her. She wasn’t amazed that she wasn’t jealous. After all, she didn’t love him. In fact, their marriage was inexistent, even when they lived under the same roof.

And all this time, she had been feeling guilty for what happened with Harry! She didn’t need to be a Seer to know that Draco and Chloe’s... thing (whatever it was) had been going for at least a month. That would explain all of his strange attitudes.

Shaking her head at the irony of the situation, she made her way back to her house.

* * *

When Draco arrived home that night, he was feeling cheerful. His little dates with Chloe lightened his mood and he felt even more affectionate to his wife. That was why he considered that having an affair with the pretty blonde was good for his marriage.

He found Hermione sitting on the dining table, with her head in her hands. However, there wasn’t any food on the table.

“If we’re going out for dinner, it’s fine with me,” he said a little annoyed. He was very hungry, and had expected that his wife would have prepared a nice meal. “But let’s go now.”

Hermione look up and eyed him. She took a deep breath. “I’ve been thinking a lot... I think we should get a divorce.”

Draco’s chin almost touched his chest with the impression. Divorce? The glass of whisky he had been holding crashed on the floor.

“I don’t blame you,” Hermione added, sighing and repairing the glass with a swift of her wand.

“What the bloddy hell is this?!” he yelled when he finally was able to speak. “What is this shit about divorce and blame?” Hermione remained silent. Draco clenched his fists. “I came home after a long day of work and you come up with this soap opera drama? What the fuck is wrong with you?”

“Things have changed a lot since we moved to this house,” she stated, calmly.

“Oh, surely you preferred that rat hole where we lived before...” he said through gritted teeth.

Hermione sighed again. She didn’t want this to turn in their usual argument about money. Draco stared at her, trying to read her mind, something that he had never been able to do. He realized she was thinner and felt a rush of pity. He searched in the back of his mind for a good retort. He knew this was his fault. It was him who was the one having an affair.

“You have someone else, don’t you!?” he yelled, that being the only thing he could come up with. He knew it was stupid, but there was nothing rational in their conversation, after all.

“I did.”

He stared at her blankly. He was sure he was about to have a heart attack. He had to sit down, or else, he was likely to fall on the floor. He opened his mouth slowly and it took him quite an amount of time to speak.

“You... did?” he repeated, waiting for her smile and ‘I’m only kidding!’ to come out of her mouth.

“It’s over now,” Hermione said, sitting across from him.

Draco summoned another glass of whisky and drank it with one sip. “I don’t believe you!” he yelled. It was impossible. She was making that up. Hermione Granger, his pure wife, would never have an affair with another guy. It was just an excuse to finish the marriage for some unknown reason.

Hermione only shrugged and Draco felt a rush of anger boiling inside of him. He threw the glass against the wall and it shattered to pieces. He stood up and approached to Hermione until their faces were inches apart.

“You are a whore!” he shouted. “You bloody bitch!”

If he had been someone else, he would have definitely hit her. But he wasn’t like that. He could be a lot of things, but he would never harm his wife like that. To stop himself from doing anything he could later regret, he stormed out of the house.

He came back two hours later and found Hermione sitting in the same spot she had been. He was strangely calm now, and she soon realized it was because he had drank a lot.

“About the other guy... Are you sure it’s over?” he asked her, slowly.

She nodded.

“Then why did you mention the... divorce?”

“You have someone else too, Draco.”

“What are you saying!?”

Hermione let out a sad laugh. “Come on, let’s not make this even harder. I know you are seeing another woman.” She realized that Draco was about to deny it again and she cut him off. “I saw you with Chloe. Today.”

Draco ran a hand through his hair. “She means nothing to me,” he said, after a while.

“I’m not acussing you. I have no right to.”

“You and Danny are the only thing I have,” he said, sitting down. He buried his face in his hands, and started sobbing.

Hermione felt sorry for him. He wasn’t a bad guy. He was just…misguided. He thought that money was the solution to everything. She remembered those times, before Harry came back into her life, when she actually thought that there would be hope for her marriage, that someday she would be able to be happy with him.

Who said that life didn’t have a sense of humor, she thought bitterly.

* * *

Things started to go worse for her after that. She somehow managed to go to the office as if nothing had ever happened. It was a good thing that she worked from her home, and had to go to the office only once a week.

Draco was making efforts to make her forgive him, and had spent a huge amount of money in presents for her and Daniel. Hermione felt like killing him for adding even more bills to the tower she had on her desk. He still lived at home, but Hermione now slept in the guest’s room.

When she arrived that Friday to the office for a reunion with Gilderoy, she saw that another name had been added above hers. Ernie McMillan. She didn’t have enough time to wonder who it was, because he appeared in that very instant.

“You must be Hermione,” he said. “I’m Ernie. Mr. Lockhart’s personal assistant. I’m glad you’re here, since I’m having a hard time working on the idea that Mr. Lockhart just had.”

Hermione followed him to a room, full of some very familiar designs hanging up in the wall.

“This is what he wants. He worked on them the whole week. Marvelous, don’t you think?” Ernie said.

Hermione shook her head in disbilief. Those where her designs! The very same she had worked so hard on after arriving from Taxco. Well. What did it matter if some other ideas of hers were stolen? She was getting used to it already, and didn’t feel like fighting against it anymore.

* * *

Two weeks later, Draco arrived home more drunk than usual.

“What happened?” she asked immediately, knowing that something had to be wrong.

“That piece of shit...” Draco babbled. “She fired me!”

“What?” Hermione asked. “Are you sure? Couldn’t it have been a warning?”

“A warning my arse. In fact, WE are fired, Chiquita. Both you and me.”

20. Despair

Chapter 19 – Despair

Ginny let out a deep sigh and cast the spell to stop headaches again on herself. She knew it wasn’t going to work. She rubbed her temples. This had been a terrible day for her. She was still in her office, the only place where she felt comfortable. She had flooed about an hour ago to the house, and Dobby had informed her that Harry wasn’t coming to dinner. That wasn’t a surprise. Harry was never at home anymore, and Ginny sometimes doubted he was even sleeping there. He showed up every once in a while, to check if she was alright, and then he left again. Ginny accepted all this with the hope that he would get over this phase and come back to her.

He’s mad because I lied to him about the pregnancy, she repeated over and over to herself. Even when she had never admitted to him she had lied, she knew he wasn’t stupid. Ginny didn’t want to think what would have happened if Harry didn’t feel so guilty for all that she had gone through. He would have probably have left her without even saying goodbye. But he was still there.

Absent-mindly, she went through the last designs that Gilderoy had made for her. They were boring. They didn’t have the spark of Hermione’s. He had had the nerve to add some of his own drawings to the ones that Ginny knew Hermione had made. She had seen them, when Hermione wasn’t looking. Deep down, Ginny know that it was her old friend that was responsible for her business’ success, and now she had to let her go.

Of course, that was what she had intended since she started with “Virginia Weasley Fashion.” It was all part of her plan to destroy the daughter of the traitor’s life. She hadn’t expected to get so involved with the project. She knew she enjoyed her work a lot, in a way she had never thought it was possible. If only Hermione wasn’t Hermione Granger, everything would be so perfect.

She had fired them today. She didn’t feel sorry for Draco. He deserved it, although Ginny was in part guilty of all his irresponsibilities, because she had been the one who had encouraged him to do it. The conversation they had in her office was still fresh in her mind.

“Hi there, boss,” Draco had greeted with a grin, entering in her office. “You sent for me, didn’t you? What is it? Want to give me a raise?” he laughed.

“Sit down,” she ordered, with a cold voice. Draco did as she told him to. “I’ll go straight to the point. I’ve been checking your account, the expenses you’ve made with the firm’s money.” She got a huge amount of bills out of her desk.

Draco shrugged. “I’ve worked really hard for you, as you can see.”

“I don’t think so,” Ginny said calmly. “There a lot of bills here that I doubt were for my company. These, for example,” she said, giving them to him. “Hotels all over London. Did you take one of our customers to an expensive suite there?” she asked with sarcasm.

Draco blinked and shifted in his seat. “I’ll pay you back,” he said after a while.

“Of course you will,” she said, taking some other bills. “What about these? You have spent too many galleons in roses... And don’t tell me they were for the customers. Half of them were sent to Chloe Bateson.”

“I’ll pay those too. I’ll pay everything that is not related to the company. Don’t worry.”

“The bills that are not related to the company shows that you owe me 24,000 Galleons,” Ginny said, internally enjoying the look on his face.

Draco went pale. 24,000 galleons was a lot more money that he made in a whole year. “I’ll pay you,” he said again, this time his voice not so sure.

“These bills aren’t our only problem. A lot of robes have disappeared off of our storeroom floors. I’ve noticed that Chloe has been using them. I asked her, and she told me that you gave them to her.”

“I thought she was the face and body of this company,” Draco said.

Ginny stared at him. For one second, she had a flashback of those times when Draco had helped her in Saint-Ouen. He had even gotten a Healer for her when she was in trouble. She wanted to be less harsh with him, but she couldn’t.

“Draco, this is serious. Those robes are really expensive.”

“Then I’ll pay them too,” he said immediately.

“That would be 1,500 galleons plus the other 24,000. I gave you an employee discount,” she said with a smile.

“That’s fine,” Draco choked, after a while. He had no idea how he was going to pay her.

“Needless to say, you can’t work for me anymore. Neither can Hermione. And by the way, that also means you’ll have to pay me back the money that I lent you.”

Draco’s jaw fell. “What money?” was the only thing he could say.

“The money I gave you to pay for that house you’re living in now.”

He couldn’t believe what he was hearing. He stood up and looked at Ginny as if she was evil itself. “How can you be like this? Don’t you think about my family? About Hermione, who is your friend?!”

“Looking at these hotel bills, I’d say that it is you the one who hasn’t thought about her,” Ginny said, narrowing her eyes.

“Back in France, she almost sold everything she had to help you!” Draco insisted.

Ginny sighed and ignored him.

“What about Daniel?”

He hit a nerve. Ginny frowned deeply at the mention of her son’s name. Daniel. If Harry ever found about him, he would most certainly leave her for good. She knew that Daniel would get involved in this vengeance. She had known it all along, and she couldn’t do anything to help it. No matter how much it hurt. She stood up and glared menacingly at Draco.

“If you ever mention it again, I’ll make sure, somehow, someway, that you go to jail,” she hissed.

“You bloody bitch,” Draco said and left the office with a loud slam of the door.

* * *

Draco finished his story. Hermione was listening, and yet, she couldn’t believe it. What was going on with Ginny? Why was she acting like that?

“Even when I promised I would pay her back every knut, she fired me anyway!” he exclaimed.

“Why should you pay her? You spent that money carrying out your duties, didn’t you?” Hermione asked. Draco hadn’t told her that the extra money had been spent mostly in Chloe.

“Because I’m a gentleman, after all,” he said.

“How much is it?” she asked, thinking about the money she had saved in Gringotts, which it wasn’t much.

“Fifteen Thousand Galleons.”

“Fifteen Thousand?!”

“Ok, a little more,” he added sheepishly.

“How much was it exactly?” Hermione asked, afraid of what he might say.

“25,500.”

Hermione’s breath caught in her throat. Her mind drifted to all the bills she had on her desk, all of them spent by Draco in the past year.

“She’s also asking us for paying back the money she lent us to pay this house,” Draco added in a desperate whisper. He couldn’t stand seeing the look in Hermione’s eyes.

She stood up, shaking. “I’ll go and talk to her tomorrow morning.”

“It won’t be of any use. She’s trying to get back at me for something, wish I knew for what.”

Hermione stared at him, thoughtfully. Draco always put the blame on others when he couldn’t accept his own. However, she had to admit that Ginny’s behavior was certainly weird. Maybe she had found out about something after all, and was trying to get back at her through Draco.

“What are we going to do?” she asked more to herself than to the drunken man beside her.

“We have to have faith. Maybe this is a good thing after all. I just happen to have my eyes on some business...”

Hermione sighed and left him alone in the living room. She locked herself up in the small room she used as a workshop and library. This was too much. She wanted so bad to leave all of this behind. For a single second, she thought about doing that. After all, it was his problem, not hers. They weren’t really a couple anymore, even when they shared the same house.

But she knew she couldn’t do that. She actually cared for Draco. He was, in a weird way, a good friend to her. And he had been there for her when she had needed him, back in Madrid. Now, they would have to face this together.

There was no point in crying over the spilt potion. She grabbed a piece of parchment and a quill and wrote 25,500. She stared at the numbers as if they were going to give her an answer to all of this. Then, she wrote down how much they owed to Ginny for the house. 9,000 Galleons. All together, the bills were 34,500 galleons. Sighing, she grabbed the other bills and started scrambling numbers. 8,000 Galleons more.

They owed 42,500 Galleons! In all her life, she had never even seen that amount of money!

Hermione sighed and looked out the window. Daniel was playing in the garden. Despite everything, she smiled. At least she had him.

* * *

“We’re selling the house,” she announced to Draco, later that night.

He looked at her with a hurt look. She knew he loved that house, but they couldn’t afford it anymore. He argued, but she didn’t change her mind. The next day, she sent an owl to the Daily Prophet.

Hermione stayed in the house all day, putting in orders for the bills, while Draco was lurking in the city. He said he was looking for a job, but she knew he was visiting the bars and adding even more galleons to how much they already owed. She had found a really small house in the outskirts of London. It had only two bedrooms, but it was more than enough. She would have wanted to move there alone with Daniel and leave her husband behind, but she didn’t have the heart to do it. She would rather think about him as a friend.

She hadn’t seen or talked to Ginny. She found herself thinking about Harry more than ever. There wasn’t a single second of the day when she didn’t hear his voice, see his face or smell his scent. She wanted to be with him so badly. But he couldn’t leave Ginny, he had said that himself. Now that she didn’t get along with Draco anymore, and her friendship with the red head seemed lost forever it wasn’t fair that she thought about the possibility of them together, when it had been her who was the one to say goodbye forever.

* * *

Harry looked like a ghost. Everyone said that. In the office, in the streets, even Dobby had mentioned it timidly. He did feel like a ghost. He didn’t really have a life anymore. He just went to work, buried himself under tons of parchment, ate only because his secretary forced him to, and then kept working.

The only people he talked to were Remus and Albus Dumbledore. Both were really worried about him. Remus had mentioned he wanted to visit him for a while, and Albus paid regular visits to the office. Harry was thankful, but it didn’t change the fact that he was miserable. There was only one way he could be happy, and he was never going to get that.

He cursed himself every day for being such a coward. He should have talked to Ginny straight forward and told her he was in love with someone else and their marriage was over. But everytime he even considered that, Arthur and Molly’s faces popped in front his face. Ron’s too. And, even when Ginny wasn’t the girl he had known before, he still cared for her deeply. She had been like a sister to him, and Harry couldn’t help but think that, after all, it was his fault that she now was this despicable woman.

She tried to spend the least time possible at home. He usually arrived really late, and left at dawn. He sometimes dropped by at lunch to see if Ginny was doing well, and then disappeared again. He had made a habit to walk at night. He found it soothed his mind and soul, so he took really long walks that lasted until midnight. Usually, his walks always led him to only one destiny: that was, the Malfoy’s house.

He didn’t know why he did it, but he spent hours hidden behind a tree, staring at the house, wishing to at least catch a glimpse of her. He had never been able to see her yet. He had seen Draco a few times, arriving drunk. The mere idea of that man living under the same roof than Hermione gave him the shivers. More than once, he felt the urge to stop Malfoy, punch him and force Hermione to leave with him.

This particular night, though, he saw her. She was sitting by the window, looking outside. He wasn’t very close, but he knew she was crying. He didn’t know the reason, but he knew there had to be many of them. She, like himself, was trapped in a marriage that would never let her be happy. Seeing her like that broke Harry’s heart. If only he could hold her and tell her everything would be alright. Why had everything gone so wrong? Why couldn’t they just be together and forget about the rest?

Harry kept staring at her until she turned off the lights and went upstairs. Maybe, someday, they would find a way to be happy again...

* * *

November 2003

It had been a month since the Malfoys had moved to the small house. Hermione shared her bedroom with Daniel and Draco slept in the other. The relationship between the two of them was the same that two roommates would have had. Draco left early in the morning and arrived for dinner, telling her about all the job offers he had. Hermione just nodded, knowing he was lying. She had been looking for a job herself, but hadn’t had any luck. Every day, more bills arrived and Hermione didn’t know what to do with them anymore.

One night, Daniel woke her up.

“Mum,” he said, whispering. “I don’t feel very well.”

She rubbed her eyes and put a hand on the four-year-old’s forehead. “I think you have a little fever,” she said. She cast the spell that Remus had taught her on him. “Now, try to sleep,” she said, tossing his hair.

But Daniel couldn’t go to sleep. Hermione didn’t need to be a Healer to know that he was ill. He threw up twice and complained about a pain in the neck when he tried to move it.

She tried to remember if she had noticed any symptoms before. Danny had been a little down the last few days, but she hadn’t thought it was anything serious. Just the flu. But now that she saw him like that, she panicked.

She already owed a lot of money to the Healer that had attended Danny in his first years. She couldn’t take him to him, because he wasn’t going to accept them.

“What is wrong with me?” the boy asked, his dark eyes scared. She spotted some red marks on his skin.

“Nothing, honey, don’t worry,” Hermione said, dressing him up. “I’ll take you to a place where they’ll see what’s going on, all right?”

“I can’t move. It hurts,” he said, and he started to cry. It had been a long time since she had seen her son crying.

Hermione tried her best to remain calm, while she thought how she was going to carry Daniel to St. Mungo’s. She had sold Draco’s broom. The Knight Bus wasn’t a very good idea if Daniel was in so much pain. He couldn’t apparate either. She went to the fireplace to floo the hospital. She asked for someone to come and get the boy and two minutes later, two wizards dressed with green robes were taking Daniel away.

Hermione wrote a note for Draco – who hadn’t been to the house in two days – explaining what was going on and apparated to St. Mungo’s.

* * *

“Are you Mrs. Malfoy?”

“Yes, I am,” she said, standing up. She had been there for an hour, waiting nervously.

“My name is Oliver Wood, I’m the Healer taking care of Daniel.” He shook her hand warmly.

“How is he?” she asked, trying to keep her voice in a normal tone.

“Maybe we should sit down,” he said, and sat on the couch in the waiting room. Hermione thought that those words could only mean something terrible was going on. She sat on the edge of the couch, and rubbed her hands. “Ma’am, I’m afraid that your son’s situation is... complicated.”

She swallowed with a great effort.

“He has meningitis.”

“Meningitis?” she repeated. She had heard about it, but wasn’t really sure what it was.

“I’m not going to overwhelm you now with all the technical details. This is a sickness that most of the time affects only muggle children, but there have been a few cases where wizard boys also get it.”

“How bad is it?”

“Meningitis is a serious sickness. We aren’t sure yet how advanced it is, but I promise we are doing all we can.”

“Can I see him?”

“Yes, but not yet. They’re running some tests on him. I’ll let you know as soon as I can.”

Hermione nodded. This couldn’t be happening. Not now. She had had enough already. Why couldn’t life gave her a break? Absent-mindly, she grabbed the silver chain she had around her neck, the one that Harry had given to her in Taxco.

She needed him.

“Is there somewhere where I can use the Floo Network?” she asked.

The Healer nodded and led her to the reception area. He talked to the nurse who let her use the fireplace for free.

Hermione checked her watch. It was 6:30 in the morning. There was no way that Harry could be at the office at that time, but nevertheless, it was worth a try.

To her surprise, Harry was sitting in his desk, with his eyes closed.

“Harry,” she called him, her voice strangely high-pitched.

Harry’s eyes opened violently and he stared at Hermione’s face in the fireplace as if he was dreaming. “Hermione?” he asked, getting up and walking towards the fireplace. He looked at her strangely, and he realized she must be in trouble. “What’s wrong?”

“I’m... I’m in St. Mungo’s,” she said, breathing heavily.

“What?!” he exclaimed, concerned. “Why? What happened? Did you have an accident? Are you sick?”

She shook her head. “It’s Danny... He has meningitis.”

Harry had heard a lot about meningitis. In his times in the Resistance, he had seen a lot of muggle-born kids dying of it. “I’m coming there,” he said, and a second later, he had apparated into the hospital. When Hermione saw him, once again by her side, all the angst she had been keeping inside exploded, and she burst into tears. Harry hugged her tightly, suffering along with her.

He had wanted to see her so badly, talk to her...

But not like this.

* * *

A/N: About the meningitis thing... I have to say, I know very little about medicine. I researched for the symptoms of this sickness though, so at least they aren’t made up. I’m sorry if anyone knows a lot about these things and is totally shocked about my ignorance, but I think I made the point that Daniel is sick.

Jack: Answering your question, it’s not over yet.

21. No Turning Back

Chapter 20 – No Turning Back

“Are you feeling better?” Harry asked about an hour later, looking at Hermione with concern.

Hermione nodded absent-mindly. She had cried for a long time after Harry had arrived, then she had somehow managed to tell him all about Daniel’s symptoms and what the Healer had said. For the last half hour, though, she had stayed silent, in some sort of numb state.

Despite all this, Hermione had still remembered to send an owl to Ginny to inform her that Danny was in St. Mungo’s. She had done it a little after Harry’s arrival. She had excused herself to go to the toilet, but instead, had gone to the owl post of the hospital and had written a short message for Ginny.

She was sure she had already received it. After all, the Potter’s manor was very close to St. Mungo’s. Why she hadn’t come was a mystery to Hermione, although lately every one of Ginny’s action was strange, to say the least.

“You know...” Harry started, softly, “Sirius Black Foundation gives a lot of money to an institution who specializes in these kinds of maladies. Maybe I could get some specialist to come and check Danny.”

She looked at him, hopefully. “Really? But I don’t want to bother you...”

“Please,” Harry interrupted her. “Let’s stop this, alright? You’re not an acquantaince to me, Hermione.”

She nodded and gave him a weak smile.

“I have the documents in my office... I should go and look for them. I’d ask my secretary to do it, but since it’s Sunday, I don’t think she’ll be at the office.”

Hermione hadn’t even realized it was Sunday. She wondered why Harry would have been at the office then, but she didn’t ask him.

“But I don’t know if I should leave you alone,” Harry added.

She shook her head. “Go Harry, I’ll be fine. If you have something that can help Danny, then it’s my priority. Besides, Draco should be here any minute.”

Harry eyed her, trying to decide what to do. Hermione was thankful that he hadn’t asked where Draco was, she would hated to tell him that she had no idea. She wasn’t even sure if he would come at all, but if she didn’t say that to him, he would never leave.

“Fine,” Harry said, standing up. “I’ll be back as soon as possible. If anything happens, call me.”

“Don’t worry,” she said and he disapparated.

Hermione leaned against the cold wall. Why hadn’t anyone come to tell her what was going on with her son? She wanted to see him. He was probably scared to death to be alone in that place, surrounded by strangers. She wasn’t able to hold back the tears when she thought that, in Daniel’s short life, he had been on the edge of death too many times.

* * *

Ginny had stared at the parchment for an hour, struggling with herself. The few words that Hermione had quickly written were enough to cause a terrible battle inside her. She had given up this boy years ago; she didn’t have anything to do with him now. He was her enemy’s son. This was a plus to the vengeance she hadn’t even planned. She should be satisfied.

But, of course, she wasn’t. She was afraid and overwhelmed by a weird feeling which could only be the worry of a mother. And she couldn’t help but thinking of Hermione and how she was dealing with this after all that had happened to her lately. Ginny had made sure to make the Malfoy’s life a living hell... She had hired two lawyers to deal with the loan business, and they were doing a great job harrassing Hermione until she payed what they owed to her.

Finally, Ginny made a decision. She grabbed her cloak and walked towards St. Mungo’s. She could have apparated, but she needed the cold air to clear her mind and give her strength. Besides, it was only two blocks between her house and the hospital.

When she got to the waiting room, she scanned the place, looking for Hermione. She spotted her in the corner, sitting on a chair. She had her eyes closed and a frown in her face. Her clothes were wrinkled and her hair messy. As Ginny approached her, she could see the tear stains on her pale cheeks. For a second, she thought she was sleeping, but as soon as she was in front of her, Hermione opened her eyes.

“Thanks God you’re here,” she said, standing up. There was an awkward moment in which none of them knew exactly how to act.

“You look terrible,” Ginny said, speaking first. “Like a worry-wart overprotecting mother.”

“How can I not be worried? He has meningitis!”

“Really?” Ginny asked, avoiding her eyes.

“Didn’t you recieve my message?”

“It’s a past time of mine to lurk in the hospitals so early in the morning,” Ginny said. My God, how can I be so sarcastic at a time like this? She asked to herself.

“Meningitis is very serious... He could die,” Hermione said in a whisper.

“You’re a true medicine expert.”

“He has all the symptons of the worst kind... Paralysis, fever, red spots on his skin,” Hermione continued, trying her best to ignore Ginny’s comments.

“You should give a conference or something.”

“If you don’t give a shit how Daniel is doing, then why the hell are you here!?” Hermione finally snapped. A couple of nurses turned to look at her disapprovingly.

Ginny considered to answer with the truth, but finally said “That’s me. The good samaritan.”

“Sure you are. That’s why you fired Draco and me.”

For a second, both women stared at each other. Ginny was expressionless and Hermione’s face had a look of anger and concern. They hadn’t seen each other from before Ginny had fired them, and Hermione would have never expected to see her again under this situation.

“Where is Draco, anyway?” Ginny asked finally, looking away from Hermione.

“He’s on his way,” Hermione lied.

“I see... Such a caring father.”

Hermione would have given anything to follow her impulse of slapping Ginny, but she held back. She remembered that her friend always hid her real emotions under that tone of sarcasm. Sighing tiredly, she sat down again.

Ginny sat down beside her slowly. “Have you seen him yet?”

Hermione shook her head. She was going to say something else, when she heard steps coming towards them. She expected it was the Healer, or maybe Harry...

But it was Draco. His face was red, proof that he had been drinking. His hair was untidy and he hadn’t shaved in a couple of days. He stared at Hermione and then at Ginny, with slight surprise. He smiled at them.

“Greetings, Ginny,” he said. He leaned in to kiss his wife on the cheek, but Hermione moved away. “I came here as soon as I read your message. I had been...”

“I don’t care where the hell you’ve been,” Hermione interrupted him. She didn’t need to hear one of his lies now. “Daniel has meningitis.”

“Meningitis?” Draco repeated. He obviously didn’t know what that meant.

Hermione explained quickly to him all that the Healer had told her. “They haven’t informed me of anything since then,” she finished.

“No news, good news, they say,” Draco said in a cheerful way. “Come on girls, I’ll invite you to a cup of coffee...”

“Why not a glass of champagne?” Hermione asked, annoyed.

“Well, we should celebrate with champagne, now that we’re all friends again...”

“Jesus!” Hermione exclaimed, storming out of the waiting room.

Draco and Ginny stared after her. “As you can see, all of this has gotten the best of us,” Draco apologized, and went after his wife.

Ginny looked at them leaving. She was doing a good job... They were truly unhappy. Then why didn’t she feel satisfied that her revenge was working out?

She had nothing more to do there, so she slowly made her way out of the hospital.

* * *

“Hermione, I am really sorry I wasn’t there when all this happened,” Draco said for the tenth time.

He started telling her a complicated story of how he had met with a friend two days ago who had invited him to a drink and then offered him a job somewhere... He had stayed in his friend’s hotel that time, discussing this new business.

Hermione wasn’t really hearing him. Was he telling the truth, or had he really been with Chloe, or some other girl? She definitely hoped that was the case; she’d rather have him with other women than spending more money in every single pub in London.

Finally, he changed the subject and started asking about Daniel’s treatment.

“What I don’t understand is how he got sick all of the sudden...” he said.

“I had noticed him like this for a couple of days, though not as bad,” Hermione explained.

“Why didn’t you take him to a Healer sooner, then?”

She gave him a cold glare. How was she supposed to take him to a Healer if she didn’t have any money to pay him? Hermione didn’t have the time to answer. Harry appeared at that moment, walking slowly towards them. He gave a quick look towards Draco, then his eyes fell on her.

“Harry!” Draco said, shaking his hand. “It’s so nice of you to be here! You’re a true friend, mate.”

Harry didn’t say anything and approached to Hermione. “Are you all right?” he asked.

“Yes, thank you,” she said.

Harry turned to Draco. “Your house is too far away from the hospital. You should move into mine while Daniel is here. I don’t think Hermione is in a right state to be apparating all the time.”

Draco smiled. “That would be really considerate of you. We’ll accept your proposition.”

“Then I should go to your house and get the things you might need,” Harry offered. “It’s better if you stay here in case something comes up.”

“No! I mean, thanks, but I can do it. Besides, Hermione needs a shower and...”

“I’m staying here,” she interrupted him. “I want to be here when Daniel is ready to see someone.”

“OK, then I’ll go by myself.” Draco leaned towards Hermione with the pretext of giving her a kiss, and he whispered in her ear, “Don’t tell him we moved... He doesn’t need to know we now live in that tiny place...”

“Good Lord, Draco,” she said through gritted teeth.

“This is important. If you tell Harry that we had to sell the house, he’ll take it as a critic to Ginny and that will ruin our chances of getting our job back.” He winked at her and disapparated.

Harry sat down next to her. “Why didn’t he want me to go to your house?” he asked.

“Because we moved,” she replied.

“Moved? Why?” Harry hadn’t gone to Hermione’s house since that night he had seen her crying next to the window.

“Because we can’t afford it anymore,” she said, sighing. “Besides, we have to pay Ginny back... But I’m sure this is not news to you.”

Harry was looking at her, surprised. “Yes, it is news, actually. Ginny and I don’t talk too much anymore.”

“Well, she fired us. She used the pretext that Draco had spent too much money of the company’s in his private flings...”

“She fired you?!” Harry asked, shocked. “And what do you mean she used a pretext? I don’t understand.”

“Isn’t it obvious? She’s punishing me for getting involved with you.”

“She doesn’t know about us,” Harry assured her.

“Then why has she been acting like that? First she hires some top designer without telling me; second, she fires us; then starts sending those lawyers to make us pay all the money that Draco owes to her... It’s like she isn’t my friend anymore. I can’t imagine why else she would act like this.”

Harry remained silent for a moment and then slowly took her hand. Hermione flinched a little, but then relaxed at his touch. He gently stroked her palm. He didn’t know she was having such a terrible time. She didn’t deserve to suffer so much. He was really angry, especially at Ginny for doing all this. He wanted to help Hermione so much...

She stood up abruptly, moving apart from him. She couldn’t stand his loving look. It was too much for her. She turned her back to him and heard him standing up and moving towards her. He turned her around. At first, she resisted, but then gave in and leaned her head onto his chest while he stroked her hair.

“I’m so scared,” she muttered.

“I know,” he whispered. “I found the documents. A Healer expert in Meningitis will come. I’m sure he will help Danny.”

“Thanks, Harry, I don’t know how I will be able to pay you back for all you have done for me,” she said looking up at him.

“It is me who has to pay you back... If it weren’t for you, I—”

“Mrs. Malfoy?”

Harry and Hermione turned around and saw Dr. Wood standing there. They moved apart quickly and she approached to the Healer anxiously.

“You can see Daniel now,” Wood said.

Hermione nodded and followed him.

Harry waited until she had entered the ward, then disapparated.

* * *

Ginny was sitting by the pool, pretending to be reading, although she didn’t even know what book she was holding. Her mind was in that hospital. She looked up when Harry came into the garden. For a second, she felt really happy. It had been a long time since he had been at the house at that hour. Maybe he would come back to her after all...

However, one good look at him told her otherwise. Harry’s eyes were cold and he didn’t even bother to say hello.

“Daniel Malfoy is in St. Mungo’s,” he said.

Ginny blinked. “Yes, he has meningitis. I went to see him this morning. Did you go too?”

“The Malfoys will be staying here,” Harry continued, ignoring her question.

“What?” Ginny asked, not able to hide her surprise. She knew Harry was fond of Daniel, but she could tell he didn’t like his parents. He was always cold and too polite with them. He never wanted to have anything to do with the couple.

“They’ll be coming today.”

“Thanks for asking my opinion,” she muttered.

“I’m not,” he replied, with a stern look.

“I’m not sure if I told you, but they don’t work for me anymore.”

“No, you didn’t.” He narrowed his eyes at her. “Daniel is very sick.”

Ginny took a deep breath. The way he looked at her... She couldn’t take it. “This is very nice of you, dear. Hermione is my best friend, after all.”

* * *

Hermione entered the room where Danny was. He was lying on a bed, surrounded by a yellow glow, because of the spells that were being applied to him to help him breathe. She tried to be strong.

Daniel opened his eyes when he heard her.

“Mum...” he muttered weakly.

“Hi, there,” she said in the happiest voice she could find.

“Am I going to die?” he asked.

Hermione controlled a sob, but her eyes watered anyway. “No, honey. I won’t let anything bad happen to you.”

Daniel closed his eyes again, falling asleep, and Hermione’s fake smile disappeared. The Healer had explained that Daniel’s meningitis was of the worst kind. They would do anything in their hands to help him, but the chances of him living were almost nonexistent.

* * *

The next five days went by terribly slow for Hermione. She spent almost all day in the hospital. She only went to Harry’s house to change her clothes and take a shower. She spent the nights in the waiting room, not able to sleep or eat anything. Draco usually was with her during the day. Ginny went every now and then too, and Hermione knew, by the little questions she popped, that she was worried, too. But the person who spent the most time with her in the hospital was Harry. Every night he sat there, comforting her. He also came every time that Draco went back to the house.

The Healer that Harry had managed to get was working along with Wood. However, he wasn’t more optimistic than the people in St. Mungo’s, and Hermione was on the verge of losing all hope.

Daniel’s fever went up and down all the time. She went in the ward every time she was allowed, and talked to him about anything, trying to remain cheerful and relaxed.

The Saturday after Daniel’s arrival to the hospital – and the Malfoy’s to the Manor – Ginny was finishing dressing up for a party she and Harry had to attend. It would be a huge social event organized by the Sirius Black Foundation benefactors. Checking the time, she moved to the library, where she knew she would find her husband. She knocked on the door, and after a couple of seconds, Harry appeared. He was wearing a blue shirt and jeans.

“You’re not ready yet?” she asked. “We can’t be late!”

“I’m not going.”

Ginny wasn’t aware of how much time Harry spent at the hospital. She wondered why he looked so tired. “But honey, you are the director of the Foundation. All those people are expecting to see you.”

“Tell them I’m on a business trip.”

“They know you aren’t,” Ginny argued. “They give a lot of money to SBF. You can’t lie like that to them.”

“Well, then tell them the truth: I’m not in the mood for parties.”

And do you think I am? Ginny thought, bitterly.

“You’re getting more boring every day,” she said, and left him alone.

* * *

She came back a little past midnight. It had been a terrible evening. She had to make up excuses for Harry, and the only thing she wanted to do was go back to the house and ask Hermione how Daniel was.

She had just closed the front door when he saw Harry coming out of the living room.

“We missed you,” she said, smiling at him. He didn’t return the smile.

“I was on my way to the kitchen to get some coffee,” he said. “Could you go and get it for me? Draco is totally drunk. Hermione and I are trying to wake him up.”

“Why don’t you ask Dobby?”

“I gave him the weekend off.”

“I’m so tired,” Ginny said. “You shouldn’t get involved in this. Draco is like that; his best friend is FireWhiskey...”

Harry shot her a glare, which interrupted her speech.

“Fine, I’ll go,” she said, moving to the kichen. Harry had never asked her to do house chores before, and she certainly hated that she had to do them for Draco Malfoy.

She took the coffee into the living room. Draco was sunken into one of the couches, with Hermione by his side, who was looking at him with a mix of embarrassment, anger and pity. Harry was standing by the fireplace.

“Here comes the waitress,” Ginny announced.

Hermione stood up and received the cup of coffee. “Thanks, Ginny. I’m sorry for bothering you like this...”

“Here comes my past and future boss,” Draco said. He was obviously drunk, drawling the words, with a silly smile plastered on his face.

“Come on, Draco, drink the coffee,” Harry said.

“You two are some good friends,” Draco said, looking at him, and then at Ginny. “Harry brings *hic* great Healers to help Danny and he stays in the *hic* hospital with my wife when I can’t...”

Ginny looked at Harry. “You have been going to the hospital?” she asked.

“Yes,” he answered shortly.

“You are great too, Ginny,” Draco said, continuing his rambling. “You invite us to your lovely *hic* lovely house... Well, I’m not surprised with your behavior,” he said, grinning stupidly. “After all, you are the moth—”

“Draco!” Hermione jumped.

Ginny felt her heart beat going one hundred times faster. “You don’t have to thank me, Draco. We’ve known each other for a long time. Now drink that coffee. It’s the first cup I’ve made in a while, though, I will warn you.”

“Sorry for making you step into the kitchen,” Draco apologized and took a sip of the coffee. “Wouldn’t you like to hire me again?”

He started rambling about all of the things he had done for Virginia Weasley Fashion. Ginny heard him talk with great fear. She wanted to change the subject. What could she say to stop him from mentioning the unmentionable?

“Draco, let’s go upstairs,” Hermione urged, as concerned as Ginny.

“I’m talking to Gin here!” Draco said, frowning.

“I have to rest a little to go back to the Hospital,” Hermione reasoned.

“That’s my adorable wife!” Draco said, the cup of coffee in his hand spilling some hot liquid over the side. “She never *hic* thinks about anything but herself! If at least you had thought *hic* for a minute of your family, Danny wouldn’t be sick now. If you had taken him to the hospital sooner...”

“I already told you what Healer Wood said. It wouldn’t have made a difference,” Hermione whispered.

“Or, or, or if you had called a *hic* doctor!” Draco continued, not hearing her. “But you are so stingy...”

“That’s enough, Draco,” Harry cut in, with a hard voice.

Draco looked at him. “You don’t know her. You don’t know my wife, ‘Arry. *hic* Danny was sick, and she didn’t call the doctor! Wanna know why? *hic* I’ll tell ya: because of money, money, money!”

“IF YOU DON’T SHUT YOUR BLOODY MOUTH, YOU FUCKING DRUNK, I’LL KICK YOU OUT OF MY HOUSE!!”

Ginny’s mouth dropped in shock. She had never heard Harry using such a language. She couldn’t even remember hearing him swear before. She had always admired his coolness and calm attitude. But now, looking at him about to punch Draco, she realized why he was such a valuable member in the Resistance. He was scary.

Draco blinked and sank even more onto the couch. “I’m sorry, Harry,” he muttered with a cleared voice. “This meningitis thing is driving me crazy.”

But it seemed that Harry wasn’t forgiving him. “Why didn’t you call the doctor? Where were you?” he asked, frowning.

“I was looking for a job.”

“For two days straight? Without ever coming home?” Harry asked, incredulous. “And how was Hermione supposed to pay the doctor?”

“Harry, why are you doing this?” Hermione interrupted, with a shaky voice.

“He wasn’t there when you and Daniel needed him,” Harry said, turning to her. “But he turns everything around and blames you!”

“He’s just drunk,” she tried to explain.

“Hermione...” Harry started, now forgetting that more people were in the room and staring at her intensely.

“He’s right, we’re under a lot of pressure...” she said, looking back at him in the same way.

Ginny looked at Harry, then at Hermione, and then at Harry again. She noticed the way they stared at each other, the way they talked at each other...

And in a very subtle way, she finally understood.

Harry was having an affair with Hermione.

Memories flooded back into her mind. When Hermione had asked about Harry so curiously, and she had lied to her about seeing and talking to him. The way that Harry had acted that time in her apartment in Saint-Ouen, when he saw the picture of Hermione and Danny... She had been so worried that he could have found out that he was her son, she didn’t stop to think that there might be other reasons for him looking so pale and devastated. The strong wish to not have anything to do with the Malfoys and the indifference he treated Hermione with after they had finally met. His trip to New York, when Hermione had gone to Mexico. He had come back talking about how apart they were. The way that Harry had invited the Malfoys to stay at his house, and the rude way he was acting towards Draco now...

He wasn’t having an affair with her. He was in love with her.

22. Harsh Truths

A/N: Hey guys, I’m really, really sorry for the late update, but my Beta Reader was busy, and well she has a life! Thanks Emily once again for your work.

Chapter 21 – Harsh truths

It took Ginny a couple of minutes for the realization to sink in. She had been so stupid. How come she had never realized it before? She had thought that Harry was having an affair. But she would never have expected that it would be with Hermione Granger... Much less that he’d actually be in love with her.

It was absurd. Someone was playing a cruel joke on her.

Nevertheless, she took a deep breath, and sat down on the confortable sofa in front of the one Draco was laying on. She wasn’t going to leave things like this.

“Hey, Draco, let’s see how drunk you are,” she said briskly.

Draco smiled. “I’m not drunk at all, Ginny,” he said, although his drawling told otherwise.

Ginny smirked. “Fine. Then let’s have a little chat, shall we? You and me. Just like Harry and Hermione did.”

Harry and Hermione, who were still talking to each other, suddenly seemed to come back to reality. They both turned to look at Ginny.

“What’s that supposed to mean?” asked Harry, quietly.

Ginny’s eyes sparkled dangerously. “Draco and I are going to talk, is all. The truth will come out, Harry, darling.” Ginny glared at Hermione. “Remember when I asked you with whom you were cheating on me with?” she asked Harry, her eyes never leaving Hermione.

A second passed when no one said anything. Hermione swallowed hard. She didn’t have time for this. She had to go back to the hospital.

“We’ll talk about that later,” Harry said. “Now is not the time. Daniel’s fever has gotten worse.”

“Hermione? Do you have something to say?” Ginny asked, ignoring Harry.

“Stop it, Ginny,” Harry said, a little louder.

“Harry Potter, always the knight in the shining armor,” Ginny commented, sarcastically.

Draco, who didn’t understand anything, let out a strange laugh. “That was funny. All right, Gin, let’s talk. I’m ready to go back to the company whenever you want me to.”

“Draco, this talk won’t be about work,” Ginny said, waving her hand. “It’s much more personal. We’re going to talk about your wife and my husband.”

Draco scratched his head, his brows furrowing in confusion. “Harry and Hermione?”

“Exactly. Harry and Hermione.”

Somehow, Hermione was able to control the gasp that was threatening to come out of her mouth. Harry looked calm, and in that moment, she felt jealous of his ability to suppress his emotions. Draco, on the other hand, was staring at Ginny totally puzzled. He moved his lips, repeating Ginny’s words. He turned to look at Hermione. And then, his features darkened, and a flash of understanding appeared in his reddened eyes.

“Harry and Hermione?” he choked. “That’s insane.”

“Well, I’m not surprised that we are the last to know about this,” Ginny said, lighting a cigarrette. “After all, we are the ones they are cheating on.”

“Bloody hell!” Draco yelled, standing up violently and tumbling. He leaned against the fireplace for support. “What is going on here!?”

Hermione was pale. However, she grabbed his arm. “Draco, let’s go upstairs,” she pleaded softly.

“So it was him! You were cheating on me with him!?”

“Draco...”

“You were sleeping with the big and famous Harry Potter!?” Draco yelled, his face gaining redness. “You lying bitch!”

He made a violent movement, and Hermione took a step backwards. Harry decided it was enough, and after giving a cold glare to Ginny, he grabbed Hermione by the arm and led her outside to the garden.

Ginny watched them go outside while still sitting on her sofa. Her hands were shaking. Draco stumbled back onto the couch and buried his face in his hands. Ginny looked at him with disgust, and then turned to look outside. There was no sight of Harry and Hermione.

How could he do something like that to her? How could Harry get involved with her worst enemy? The woman whose father had destroyed her life? And now, instead of being with her, Ginny, he was outside… comforting Hermione.

He was still her husband. She wasn’t going to let him go away. She couldn’t live without him. Even if he loved another woman, Ginny would never give him the divorce. She wouldn’t let Hermione win. She was going to save her marriage, no matter what.

Draco, drunk as he was, could still feel a deep pain. He was completely humiliated. Hermione had chosen a man who had status and money, something that Draco Malfoy had always wanted, but had never been able to achieve. For a long time, he had tried to be like Harry Potter. He bought his robes in the same place and tried to be around the same people. But it wasn’t enough for her...

He turned around to look outside, but couldn’t see either Harry or Hermione. He spotted Ginny sitting in front of him, deep in her own thoughts, smoking her expensive cigarrettes. Right next to her, the bar was calling to him. He stood up, poured whisky on a glass and drank it in one sip.

“How long has this been going on?” he asked, cleaning his mouth with his sleeve.

Ginny shrugged. “Who knows? I don’t think it’s recent. Maybe since the war.”

Draco groaned. “She was a virgin when I married her.”

Ginny gave him a condescendant smile. “Who cares? The important thing is that they have a relationship right now. In front of our noses. So, Harry stayed with her at the hospital?”

Draco clenched his fists angrily. “And he told me he was going there to replace me!” He poured more whisky into his glass. “Why he had to chosen her? I’m sure he could get any woman he wanted.”

Ginny’s smiled faded. “She’s not just any woman to him, Draco. He loves her,” she said bitterly.

Draco snorted and sat down on the couch again. He loved Hermione. He had tried to give her a good life- to her and Daniel. But no matter what he did, he would never be able to compete with the great Wizard that was outside with his wife right now.

“Draco... I will remain married,” Ginny said slowly.

He stared at her as if she was crazy. “Are you serious? Didn’t you just see the same thing I did?”

“I don’t care about that! I will never give the divorce to Harry. And he wouldn’t dare to leave me. He feels too guilty... You should fight for your marriage, too.”

“You know Hermione. She’ll never stay with me if she’s in love with him.”

“Harry would never have her as his mistress. He’s a gentleman. If I don’t give him the divorce, he won’t get involved with her,” Ginny said, matter-of-factly, although she wasn’t that sure.

* * *

Outside, Harry and Hermione were sitting on a bench, under a huge oak. Harry was looking at Hermione, with concern clear in his eyes. Her gaze was fixed in the floor. She looked weak and ill. She was shaking, and he didn’t know if it was because of what had just happened, or because of Daniel, dying in the hospital.

They had stayed like that, in silence, for at least ten minutes. Finally, Harry decided he should say something.

“Hermione...”

She jumped a little and turned to look at him. Her eyes were sad and tired. “Oh, Harry, what have we done?”

He hugged her and she cried in his shoulder, while he stroked her hair. “We haven’t done anything, Hermione, except being honest with our feelings.”

“Yes, but we’ve hurt people in the process. We’ve been so selfish—”

“Selfish?” he interrupted her. “How much time we tried to fight this? I never stopped thinking about you for a single second. It was worse after Taxco. I’ve tried to suppress this, but it’s impossible. You know that. It’s too strong. You want to keep living this lie? You don’t love Draco. I don’t love Ginny. I love you.”

“I know... I know, Harry,” she muttered weakly.

He lifted her chin and looked in her eyes. “We’ll get through this. You’ll see, everything will be fine.”

Hermione was too tired to argue that nothing was going to be fine with her son almost dying. Harry kissed her softly. At least she had him now. He kissed her eyelids and her jawline.

“I’m tired of lying,” he whispered. “I want to speak the truth. I’ve got nothing to hide anymore.”

Hermione would have loved to say the same. But she was hiding something from him, the truth about Daniel’s origins. She backed away. “We should go inside... I have to go back to the hospital.”

Harry nodded and they went back into the house. Ginny and Draco weren’t in the living room anymore. Recluntantly, Hermione separated from Harry to go to her room.

* * *

As soon as she entered, she found Draco sitting on the bed, his hair falling down in his face. He didn’t even move when she closed the door behind her.

“I’m sorry, Draco,” Hermione whispered. She really was.

“Why don’t you go to hell!?” he shot back, glaring at her with hate. He stood up and approached her. Hermione tried to suppress the fear that came over her when he stood in front of her. “So that’s what you did there every night! How many times did you two leave the ward to go to some fancy hotel?”

Hermione closed her eyes, remembering all those endless hours sitting in the waiting room, when the only thing that kept her from going insane was Harry’s company.

“He just sits there and waits with me,” she said, after taking a deep breath.

“Yeah, right. So, tell me, is the little unfaithful witch staying with her husband or will she leave him for some rich asshole?”

“What about you and Chloe?” she retorted.

“Ah! I was wondering when you were going to bring that up! That was a mistake. You can’t even start to compare it with what you have with him! Besides, it was your fault that I got involved with her! You were ignoring me!”

Hermione looked at him in disbelief and walked towards the bed. She needed to rest a little before going back to St. Mungo’s. Draco went to the bathroom and came out five minutes later with his hair wet. He still looked drunk. Hermione had just closed her eyes, but she knew she wasn’t going to be able to get any sleep. She wanted to go back and be with her son. She sighed and stood up. Draco was staring at her.

“Where do you think you’re going?” he asked.

“I’m going to the hospital, if you must know.”

“Of course, with your lover,” he said in a loud voice. “You’re not going anywhere before we talk about this, dammit!” he yelled at the top of his lungs.

“Please, Draco, keep it down,” Hermione shushed him. She didn’t want Harry or Ginny listening to this.

“I’m not going to shut up! Since when have you been sleeping with him?”

“The relationship isn’t just that. I lo—”

“SINCE WHEN!?”

She took a deep breath. “Since France.”

Draco looked taken aback. “France? When I met you?”

“I told you that Harry had helped me to get out of France—”

“You told me you were a virgin!”

“I never told you that, Draco. You assumed I was,” Hermione replied angrily.

“You told me!” he yelled, grabbing her arm.

“Let me go! You’re hurting me!”

“You always lied to me! Not to him! Even when you married me, you still were thinking about him all the time!” he cried. Hermione could smell the alcohol in his breath.

“You always knew that I loved you like a friend, Draco. You knew I wasn’t in love with you,” Hermione muttered. Her arms hurt, but his grip only got harder.

“The rich guy didn’t marry you, so you had to fool me!” he said and pushed her away.

Hermione fell backwards and hit her head on the wall. Before either of them could do anything else, the door swung open and Harry appeared in the doorframe. He looked at Hermione sprawled about the floor, and then at Draco standing next to her.

He grabbed Draco by the collar and pushed him hard against the wall. With a murderous look, he took his wand out and pointed it towards Draco’s face.

“How dare you hurt her?” he exclaimed. Draco looked terrified.

Hermione stood up. Her head hurt and she felt dizzy. She walked towards Harry and put a hand on his arm.

“Harry, stop, please...”

“I won’t let him do this to you!” Harry said, still holding his wand.

“It’s not worth your time. Please,” she said, forcing him to look at her.

Harry’s gaze softened and he dropped his wand’s aim to the floor. Hermione sighed in relief.

“What an interesting scene,” Ginny commented darkly, entering in the room.

Draco, who was shaking, tried to stand up, but he couldn’t. “I think I need a drink,” he muttered.

“You’ve drank too much already,” Harry said.

“I’ll get you one immediately,” Ginny said, and with a flip of her wand she summoned a glass of strong liquor and handed it to him. Then, she closed the door so that none of the house-elfs could hear. “I have something to say to you,” she said, looking at Harry and Hermione.

“Ginny, whatever it is, you can say it later. I have to go back now,” Hermione said, anxiously.

“This won’t take long. Then, you can leave with my husband to go wherever you want and spend the night together.” She folded her arms. “I will never give you the divorce Harry. So, if you want to buy an apartment and have Hermione as your mistress, that’s fine with me. But I’ll still be your wife.”

Harry looked at her with disgust. “You don’t care that I end up hating you?”

“Hate is a natural reaction when you’re guilty about something. My dad always said that.”

“Daniel could be getting worse,” Hermione interjected. She wanted to leave that house and go back to the hospital. She couldn’t waste time on such an elementary subject as affairs at this point. Her child was dying!

“Is it clear what I just said?” Ginny said, looking at her.

“Yes, yes, it’s clear!” Hermione exclaimed, not able to hold her anguish anymore. “Now please, leave me alone. I have to change these clothes.”

“I’m sure that both gentlemen have seen you with much less than that,” Ginny said and left the room.

Harry glared at Draco. “I won’t leave you alone with her. Get out!” He grabbed his arm and pushed Draco out of the room. He gave one last look to Hermione and closed the door behind him.

* * *

Ginny was standing outside the room. Draco sat on the floor and Harry leaned against the wall, guarding Hermione’s door. For a long moment, no one said a word. Then, Draco lifted his head and stared at Ginny.

“You’ve been trying to ruin our life for a long time, haven’t you?” Although he was still drunk, his voice sounded a little more sober. “Putting all those temptations in front of me... You’re the devil.”

“So now I’m the one to blame,” Ginny said.

“Why? Why did you put us high on a pedestal and then let us fall?”

“You’re pathetic,” she spat. She didn’t want to have that conversation with Harry’s cold stare on her.

“Why did you fire us?”

“Bad memory... Do I have to remind you of all of those bills?” Ginny said. She could feel Harry’s eyes going from Draco to her. “We should talk about this later... Maybe there’s a chance for you to have your job back,” she added desperately.

Draco struggled with himself for a second. He was aware now that what he was saying was true. Ginny had done all of those things on purpose, he was sure about that. Going back to the company was tempting, but...

“You even sent those bloody lawyers...”

“I think you need another cup of coffee,” Ginny interrupted, trying to drift his attention.

“What I can’t understand is why. I always helped you when you needed me. Hermione got in big trouble when she gave you that money. She spent a long time working extra hours to pay back what they had loaned to her for you. I got you doctors for your son...”

“Son?” Harry asked suddenly. His gaze shifted and he looked at Draco. “What are you talking about?”

Ginny felt the air leaving her lungs. She couldn’t breathe or think. She was so terrified that she was about to faint. “He’s making it up, darling, please,” she managed to say in a convincing voice.

In that moment, Hermione stepped out of the room. She looked at the trio, confused.

“Here comes the other woman,” Ginny said, desperate to find something that could make Harry forget what he had just heard.

“What son?” Harry insisted, his eyes moving from Ginny to Draco.

Hermione, getting what was going on, felt her heart stop beating. She exchanged a look with Ginny. What could she say? What could she do? She didn’t want to lie to Harry... But she could’t tell him the truth either, or Ginny would take Danny away...

Draco, realizing what he had just done, put his hands over his mouth. But then, he stood up slowly. “What does it matter, anyway? He’s still going to die in that hospital...” he said sadly.

Harry’s jaw dropped and he turned to look at Ginny, who was frozen in her spot. “Daniel is your son?”

* * *

A/N: Evil cliffie, I know!! I’m sorry! But the next chapter is ready, so you won’t have to wait that long ;)

23. Time to Say Goodbye

A/N:I’m sorry for the cliffhanger. Luckily, my beta reader sent me this one right away!

Chapter 22 – Time to say Goodbye

Harry’s question cut the air like knife. Draco, Hermione and Ginny froze, as if time had frozen when Harry had opened his mouth. His eyes were on Ginny, waiting for an answer.

Ginny made an effort to look Harry in the eyes. She was ready to give him a defiant look, one that would show him she wasn’t afraid of anything... But as soon as she met his eyes, she looked away, biting her lip. She couldn’t articulate an answer.

“So it is true,” Harry said, after two minutes of silence. He turned to Hermione. “You lied to me.”

Hermione’s face went pale. The look that Harry was giving her was full of anger and disappointment. She should have guessed he would take it like this. She understood. Harry had never been able to trust anybody, but he had opened his soul to her, he had told her everything... He had given her his naked heart. And what had she done in return? Lie to him, hide the most important secret in her life. She hadn’t been able to trust him in the same way he had trusted her...

But that wasn’t true. Hermione would have given anything to tell Harry what was going on, but she couldn’t. She had promised Ginny she would never tell anybody. Her friend had threatened to take Daniel away if she dared to reveal her secret. She couldn’t take any risks, not after seeing what Ginny was capable of.

Harry’s eyes darkened so much that there wasn’t any green left in them. Ginny felt a jolt of fear when he turned to her once more. It was almost as he radiated a hateful glow.

“Don’t you think I deserve an explanation?” he asked, his voice calm and steady, but filled with anger.

“What do you want to know?” Ginny asked, taking a few breaths to control herself.

“Who is Daniel’s father? Was it something that happened in La Sante?”

“He’s Viktor Krum’s son,” Ginny said, slowly. “A General in Slytherin’s Goverment and sent to Azkaban for treason,” she added, even when she knew that Harry was perfectly aware of who Krum was.

“That’s why you... got rid of Daniel?” Harry asked, pronouncing the last words as if they were venom.

“No,” Hermione interjected. Harry turned to her, but his expression wasn’t much different that the one he had used with Ginny. “She didn’t have a choice. Daniel—”

“I’d rather not have you interrupting me when I’m talking to my husband,” Ginny said coldly.

“Go on,” Harry said, his attention once more on Ginny.

Ginny started telling him everything that had happened. The hard delivery, how Hermione had found her living in that hole of misery, that Daniel had been very sick and Draco had brought a Healer... She then told him how Hermione and Draco had suggested taking him to England and how she had accepted because she was an outcast...

Harry listened to her story in silence. When Ginny finished, he turned to Hermione. He stared at her with a cold glare.

“All these years you lied, saying that he was a war orphan...”

“He’s our son,” Hermione said.

“I’d never expect this of you, Hermione... I would have never believed that you could lie to me like this. I understand that you adopted him to save him—”

“No! We adopted him because we loved... love him,” she said, her voice breaking.

“And it never occurred to you that you should tell me who he was!?” Harry asked, raising his voice only a little, but to Hermione it was the loudest of screams. “He’s Arthur’s grandson! He’s Ron’s nephew!”

“I know I should have told you,” Hermione tried to explain, tears welling up in her eyes, “but I couldn’t. I had promised Ginny.”

Draco, who had been very quiet during the whole conversation stepped forward and stood beside Hermione. “She,” he said, pointing to Ginny, “said that she would take Danny away from us if we told anyone, especially you, the truth.”

Harry eyed him and then turned to Ginny once more.

“Don’t look at me like that, Harry,” Ginny said, her usual arrogance coming back to her. “What was I supposed to do? I had to choose between you, the love of my life, and him... If you had known about him you wouldn’t have married me.”

“Don’t be ridiculous, Ginny!” Harry exclaimed. “You think it would have mattered to me that you had a child? The only thing I could despise is that you were able to give him away to keep me by your side!”

Draco, who it seemed had done too much of an effot to speak before, fell to the floor, snoring loudly. Harry and Ginny turned to look at him, while Hermione was struggling to wake him up.

“Draco, get up!” she pleaded, crying. “Please!” She turned to look at Harry. “Harry, please help me...”

Harry stared at her as if she was some piece of the furniture and went back to his bedroom. Hermione watched him leave with desperation. Ginny gave her one more look and left the hallway too.

Hermione was too tired to even care about Draco, so she left him there and left the house, heading to the hospital.

* * *

Sitting alone in the waiting room was the worse punishment she could have. She was forced to face the reality that she had avoided since she had moved to Harry’s house... He had given her the chance to worry only about Daniel – which was a huge worry just by itself – and forget about the money they owed... But now, after all that had happened, there was no way she could stay with them... And what about Draco? Was she going to stay with him? Leave him for good?

I can’t be thinking about this now, she scolded herself. She had to focus on Daniel. She had to be strong for him. Deep down inside, she knew that she was going to lose him forever, but she refused to lose hope. She was expecting a miracle...

Even when she had spent countless hours in that waiting room, she still couldn’t get used to the fact that the nurses and Healers passed by her without informing her of anything. Hermione watched them coming in and out, always waiting to see if one of them would approach her and tell her something… anything.

Someone entered in the waiting room and walked slowly towards her. Hermione lifted her head, and was suprised to find Ginny standing before her. Her face was expressionless. She stood there in silence. Hermione realized that she hadn’t talked at all to Ginny about anything that had happened.

“I’m sorry about everything,” she muttered.

“You should be. After this, I’m sure you know that you’ve lost my son. And my husband doesn’t want anything to do with you.”

“I feel terrible for lying to him,” Hermione said, not caring about Ginny’s expression. “All he wants is someone he can trust—”

“You don’t get him at all,” Ginny interrupted her, coldly.

“You are the one I don’t get,” Hermione said slowly. Ginny was going to say something, but she didn’t let her. “I mean, you are, or were, my best friend. Those years I spent in Daguerre with you are full of happy memories. I used to believe I understood your feelings. That arrogance that you had, and the sarcasm you always used was a way to protect yourself from the rest. But deep down, you were a great girl, the best. But now, I’m starting to think that I’ve always been wrong about you—”

“Since when did you get all Freudian with me?” Ginny said, trying to make her stop.

“—you don’t have any feelings,” Hermione continued, as if she hadn’t heard Ginny. “You’re hollow inside. If you at least had a little compassion inside, you wouldn’t be fighting with me at this moment, when Daniel is dying!”

Ginny didn’t say anything. Hermione stood up and started pacing through the room, trying hard to control herself.

“Any news?” Ginny asked suddenly.

“No.” Hermione took a deep breath. “I wish someone could come here to tell me anything. Dammit!” she exclaimed, slamming her fist against the wall.

Ginny looked away. She had never seen Hermione like that and it wasn’t a very comforting sight.

* * *

Three hours later, there still wasn’t any information about Daniel’s health. Ginny was sitting quietly in a corner, far away from Hermione, who was lost in her own thoughts.

Finally, Oliver Wood approached Hermione. She stood up so abruptly that she lost her balance and almost fell over.

“Mrs. Malfoy—”

“—How is Daniel?” she asked immediately.

“We haven’t been able to deal with his fever,” Wood said quietly.

“God,” Hermione muttered holding her head.

“Ma’am, we can’t do anything else for him,” Wood said. “All we can do is wait.”

“I want to see him.”

“All right,” Wood nodded.

“I want to go, too,” Ginny said. She had approached them in silence.

“Only the family can go in,” Wood protested.

“I am from the family!”

“I’m sorry, but...”

“It’s OK,” Hermione said. “She’s from the family. I want her to see Daniel, too.”

Wood shrugged and led them to the ward were Daniel was being treated. The little boy wasn’t much different than when Hermione had seen him before, except his face was paler and he had an expression of extreme fatigue. She and Ginny approached his bed.

“Danny,” Hermione called. The boy opened his eyes slowly. “I brought you a visitor. Do you remember Mrs. Potter?” Daniel’s eyes moved to focus in on Ginny, but he didn’t do anything else. “Daddy says hi, and he’s coming next time,” Hermione continued. Ginny was amazed of the power her friend had to control herself and keep smiling. She, on the other hand, was barely able to control the tears. “I love you so much... Mrs. Potter loves you too, you know that?”

Daniel’s eyes closed slowly. Hermione kept talking to him for a while. Ginny, was unconsciously stroking one of his little hands. He had been hers at one time. But now, she had nothing to do in front of her bushy-haired rival. She, Hermione, was Daniel’s real mother after all.

* * *

When they went back to the waiting room, Harry was sitting there. He stood up when he saw them coming, and looked a bit surprised to see Ginny there.

Harry greeted Hermione in the same cold and formal way he had used when they had met at his manor for the first time after he had stopped writing. Despite that fact, she felt relieved to see him there.

“I see you really like this enviroment, dear” Ginny commented. Her voice was the usual arrogant one, but her eyes betrayed her and showed the sadness she was feeling.

“Did you see him?” Harry asked.

Hermione nodded and told him what the doctor had said. Harry sighed and ran his hands over his face, seeming to want to wake up from a terrible nightmare.

The three of them sat in the waiting room in complete silence. Hermione would have wanted to sleep -at least then she could stop thinking-, but it was impossible. Harry wasn’t even looking at her, or at Ginny.

* * *

Time passed so slowly, Hermione thought it had been at least a week. Everytime she heard steps, her eyes would lift from the floor and then lower again when she saw it wasn’t any information for her.

Finally, Oliver Wood approached her again. He walked slowly towards her. Hermione started to stand up, but he stopped her and made her sit down again.

“Mrs. Malfoy... As soon as you left the ward... Daniel went into a coma.”

Hermione felt her mouth go dry and she managed to nod. In the meantime, Harry had approached them and now was sitting beside her.

“We tried our best, but it was a lost fight. We’ve tried everything, even Muggle techniques. Daniel passed away just now. I’m sorry.”

Daniel passed away. The words echoed in Hermione’s mind and her head started spinning. Before she knew it, she had fainted, and Harry had barely caught her before she could hit the floor.

* * *

Ginny hadn’t moved in the last ten minutes, since the Healer had given the news to Hermione, and she had passed out. She felt as if her heart and mind was breaking in two: one part of it forced her to suppress the feeling that was eating her from the inside, and the other was screaming for her to let it out. She was in some state of shock, breathing heavily, her eyes wide open, and her hands squeezing her cloak tightly.

She had lost her son. Again. She hadn’t believed the pain would be so unbearable. But it was. She would have loved to faint, like Hermione, being able to stop thinking for at least some glorious minutes. But instead of being knocked out, she was more aware and conscious of the things that were happening all around her.

She turned to look at where Hermione, Harry, and the Healer were standing. Harry was holding Hermione tightly, tears streaming down his face, while the Healer tried to reanimate her in a gentle way that wouldn’t shock her even more. Ginny had never seen Harry so devastated about something. She knew he was suffering for Daniel’s death, but also because of Hermione. She could see it in his eyes. He was worried about her.

After all, his love for her was as strong as ever. The disappointment of knowing that Hermione had lied to him hadn’t changed his feelings for her. If Ginny had been more keen in understanding other people’s feelings, she wouldn’t have been so surprised. He loved her. There was nothing she could do about it.

Before Hermione opened her eyes, Ginny left the hospital and locked herself in her room to grieve alone.

* * *

“I have so much to do now,” Hermione whispered, with a flat voice.

They were walking back to Harry’s house. He had offered to go with her since he didn’t believe she should be alone in the streets now. She wasn’t in the right state to apparate either.

“You should rest for now,” he said.

Hermione didn’t even hear him. Harry looked at her, concerned. She hadn’t cried. Since she had woken up, all she had done was talk about practical things. Her eyes were unfocused and her voice empty of emotions. Harry was used to Hermione’s emotional reactions. She had never been one to hold back what she was feeling, and it was scary, to say the least, to see her like this now.

“I have to go back to my house,” Hermione said.

“What? Today?” Harry asked.

“Yes.”

“You don’t have to. You could stay at mine until—”

Hermione shook her head. “I can’t stay with you. Not after what happened.”

Harry made a pause. “I will take care of the funeral.”

“OK,” Hermione shrugged. “I’ll pay you later...somehow.”

Harry stopped walking. “I don’t want you to pay me. I’m doing this for Daniel. He is a Weasley, after all.”

She nodded. “Thanks. I appreciate it, considering I don’t have any money and I wouldn’t be able to give my son a proper burial...” she said all this with a shaky voice.

Harry looked at her sadly, but he didn’t make any comments. They arrived at the house and Hermione went upstairs to give Draco the news.

* * *

The next morning, there was a gloomy air in the Potter’s manor. Draco hadn’t taken very well Daniel’s death, and he had locked himself in the bathroom the whole night. Hermione, on the other hand, had recovered some sense and had been finally able to cry, although it hadn’t relieved her pain.

She hadn’t slept at all, so when Draco finally came out of the bathroom with red eyes, but at least a sober look, she was waiting for him, sitting in the edge of the bed. He sat down beside her, and for a moment, neither of them said anything.

“I’m sorry,” Draco said finally. “I should have been there for you and him... If I hadn’t been such a git, maybe I wouldn’t have lost my son... Or you.”

Hermione, who wasn’t very used to Draco recognizing his mistakes, shook her head. “You don’t have to apologize. It’s not your fault that he got sick. And about me...well, I guess it was never meant to be.”

Draco looked at her. “I can’t stand you in a relationship with Harry.”

She sighed. “You don’t have to worry about that anymore. It’s over. I told him I was going back home today. We’ll leave this house.”

“What about the funeral?”

“Harry will take care of it.”

Draco snorted. “I’m not even able to pay for his funeral. I’m a failure, am I not?”

Hermione took his hand in hers. “It doesn’t matter who pays for it. But I hope that from now on, you’ll do something with your life, to make it better.”

He squeezed her hand. “You can help me with that. We could start over...”

“No, we couldn’t,” Hermione said softly. “Draco, you are a great guy. You just need to have a little more confidence in yourself. You need a woman who loves you like you deserve. I can’t do that. I’ll always care for you, but I won’t be your wife anymore.”

“I thought your relationship with Harry was over,” he said, after a while.

“It is...for him. But it will never be over for me. I’ll always love him.”

* * *

Ginny found Harry sitting by the pool with a cup of coffee in his hands. She hesitated, and finally decided to approach to him.

“You’re going to work?” he asked, when he saw her.

“Yes. And I suppose you aren’t?”

“Of course not,” Harry said, looking away from her. “I’m going to take care of the burial.”

“Isn’t that something the parents should do?” Ginny asked.

Harry glared at her. “You’re unbelievable.” Ginny didn’t even flinch. “You know very well that they don’t have the money to,” Harry said. “I can’t understand how you were able to do that to the people who were raising your... Daniel.”

“I was too young when he was born. He wasn’t a part of my life anymore. I don’t see why it should affect me now,” Ginny said. She sounded convincing enough.

Harry looked at her with disgust. “I want to talk to you.”

“Go ahead, as long as it isn’t about divorce.”

“It’s not about that. I want to know how much money Draco owes you.”

“You make it sound as if I’m doing something bad in wanting the money he stole from the company back. What he did was—”

“How much?” Harry cut her off, his patience wearing.

“Around 34.000 Galleons. But I don’t see why you would want to know. I’ll never accept your money, Harry.”

“I know that.”

* * *

A/N: No cliffie this time. I’m really sorry for “killing” Daniel, I didn’t want to do it, but I had to. I hope you are able to understand that.

There are two more chapters left and an epilogue.

24. Can

Chapter 23 – Can’t Let Go

Ginny had been sitting by the fire for over an hour. Her glassy eyes were fixed on the papers she had in her hand. The ones that held the information about her parents and the Granger’s betrayal. The very same papers that had started everything.

That day had been Daniel’s funeral. She hadn’t wanted to go, but Harry had insisted. So, she had sat in the last seat. The small church was crowded. Ginny knew that Hermione was probably surprised with all of the people that had come, because she didn’t have many friends or family. Most of them were Draco’s friends, or people who worked for her in Virginia Weasley Fashion. She even spotted Remus Lupin and Albus Dumbledore.

She had tried to remain calm. Her logical side had made a determination: Daniel had gone out of her life long ago. He was just Hermione’s son. But all her resolution had vanished as soon as she saw the small white box surrounded by flowers. The tears she had successfully managed to suppress in the hospital were now trailing down her cheeks. Harry noticed this and put his arm around her shoulders. His gesture was kind and sincere, and Ginny realized that behind it wasn’t her husband, but her brother’s best friend, the one that had promised to take care of her.

When the funeral was over, Harry and Ginny slowly approached Hermione and Draco, who were still sitting in their front row pew. Hermione was crying, her whole body shaking, and Draco was doing his best to comfort her, although his face was full of tears, too. When they saw the Potters, they stood up immediately. Harry shook Draco’s hand in a polite gesture and kissed Hermione on the cheek briefly, muttering some words Ginny couldn’t hear. Hermione nodded and thanked him. She turned to look at her and for a second both women stared at each other. Finally, Hermione wrapped her arms around Ginny and they cried together for their lost son. In that moment, Ginny forgot about everything- the revenge and payback that had transformed her personality in the last few years. Hermione was her best friend again, and only that. The only person who could understand the pain she was feeling.

She had arrived at home and locked herself in the library. She was there now, trying to decide what to do. She’d been thinking that maybe it was time to finish this. She had had her revenge. Hermione had suffered a lot. She had lost her parents, her husband, her house, her son and the man she loved. Why keep going with this?

She looked again at the papers in her hand. She was going to throw them into the fire. Burn them and start all over again.

But her hand didn’t move. Somehow, Ginny wasn’t able to burn the papers as she wanted. She couldn’t do it. But why? This day was the perfect chance to leave all the hate and grudges behind her. Her eyes stared at the dancing flames. The voice of her father, pronouncing those last words to her, sounded in her ears so clearly that for a moment, she thought he was in the room with her.

Make the traitor pay. His or her family should suffer as much as we have. Make their lives a living hell...

Had Hermione suffered as much as she deserved for what her father had done? Had the Weasley pride been recovered? Was Arthur Weasley resting in peace now?

The logic came back to her. She stood up with a new determination.

The next day, Draco and Hermione received a letter where they were being called in front of the Wizengamot for the unpayment of their debt to Mrs. Virginia Potter.

* * *

February 2004

Hermione looked at her new residence and smiled slightly. She had just finished painting the walls and everything looked very nice. It was a very small flat, with only one room, in Hogsmeade. She didn’t need anything else, though. She was about to start a new life.

After the funeral, Albus Dumbledore had approached her. He had gently reminded her that his offer, the one he had mentioned in that party so long ago, still stood. He wanted her to be the Transfiguration teacher at Hogwarts. Hermione had refused back then, but now she had accepted gladly. Now that Draco was out of her life, and Daniel wasn’t with her anymore, she didn’t have anything else to hold her back from anything that she wished to do. It was the chance she needed to start from scratch. Hogwarts was a wonderful place, and she had always wanted to teach.

Of course, she doubted she would ever be happy again. The death of her son would always be a present shadow in her heart. At least if she had Harry by her side...

She shook her head. She had to come to terms with the fact that their relationship just couldn’t be. And it wasn’t that they didn’t love each other. No, Hermione knew that Harry loved her as much as she loved him, or he wouldn’t have been so angry with her for lying to him. But why he was being so prideful, she couldn’t understand. Yes, she should have told him the truth, but she had a good reason to hide it. Maybe it was for the best anyway. Harry would never leave Ginny feeling as guilty as he felt. Ginny would never let him go either, and he wouldn’t start a relationship with Hermione if he couldn’t give her what both of them wanted. It was too complicated. And Hermione didn’t need any more complications in her life. She was 23 years old and had lived as if she was 60. She just wanted peace.

Maybe someday, she and Harry would meet again. She couldn’t know what would happen in the future. But it seemed that he had also decided to leave everything behind. Remus, who had helped her move, had told her that Harry had gone to the U.S. to take care of the Sirius Black Foundation offices there, and hadn’t said when he was coming back to England.

Hermione couldn’t help but think how Ginny must feel. She hadn’t seen her or heard from her since the funeral, and that had been more than a week ago. All of her hopes that her friend was back had vanished when she and Draco had received that notification. Strangely, Draco had gone in front of the Wizengamot and paid every debt they had standing. Hermione had no idea how he had gotten the money, but he had promised it wasn’t anything illegal. She didn’t care. They weren’t married anymore; although she had the feeling they would be able to be friends…eventually. She did care a lot about him, after all.

She sighed and started unpacking. She wasn’t naive. She knew she would never get over Harry. She had tried for the last five years. Even when she had married someone else, she hadn’t been able to forget about him. But she had to do something for herself. In a week, she’d be going to Hogwarts. Life was giving her a second chance and she would take it.

* * *

Ginny walked through her empty house slowly. Since Harry had gone to the United States, she had taken the habit of lurking in the hallways at night. She couldn’t stand it anymore.

To her mind came the conversation she and Harry had the night he left.

“Where are you going?” she asked, when she saw him packing a suitcase.

“I have to go to the United States for a while,” was his dry reply.

“When are you coming back?”

“I don’t know.”

“That’s not a right answer to your wife, Harry.”

He stared at her. “It’s been a long time since I stopped considering you my wife, Gin.”

His words hurt her deeply, and she took a deep breath before she could talk again. “You’re leaving me, aren’t you?”

He didn’t answer and kept tucking clothes inside the suitcase.

“Are you going with her?” Ginny asked then. “Answer me Harry! Are you going with Hermione?”

“No,” Harry said, leaving the suitcase and turning to look at her. “I’m going alone.”

“And what does she think about your departure? Will she wait for you?” Ginny asked with resentment.

“Hermione and I are not together Ginny, if that’s what you want to know.”

“Don’t tell me that... I thought that your love was strong and everlasting! But a little lie got in the way and it’s over?” she asked in a sarcastic tone.

“It was not a little lie, and that’s not the reason...” he trailed off. “I still love her, maybe even more than before. I’ll always will. There’s no other woman for me, Gin.” Ginny grimaced and Harry turned away. “But I can’t be with her. I can’t do this to her or to you. I need to go away for a while...”

Ginny didn’t want him to see her crying. She stormed out of the room and locked herself in the library. When she came out, Harry had already left.

Why had she lost everything? Why was fate punishing her? She hadn’t done anything wrong. She had suffered in the unfairest of ways. Maybe she should end this now. Why keep living when there was nothing to live for anymore?

Death would have been a great solution. But it would be cowardly. A Weasley never runs away. She had grown up hearing that, over and over from both of her parents. She couldn’t run away. Her father would never forgive her if she did...

* * *

The knock on the door startled Hermione. She had just started preparing breakfast. The only person who knew where she lived was Remus, and he was back in Spain. She opened the door, recognizing the creature outside as Dobby, Harry’s house-elf.

“Excuse me, miss,” Dobby said politely, his big eyes betraying his voice, looking scared. “Dobby is really sorry to bother you, but he didn’t know what to do...”

“What is it, Dobby?” Hermione asked briskly. “Has something happened to Harry?”

Dobby shook his head. “Not to Mr. Harry Potter, sir. To Mrs. Potter...”

“Ginny? What happened, Dobby? Tell me!”

Dobby trembled with Hermione’s loud voice, and he cleared his throat. “Dobby thinks that maybe Miss Hermione should see it for herself...” he suggested with a weak voice.

Hermione nodded eagerly and grabbed her cloak.

* * *

“It’s been two days now,” Dobby said.

Hermione stared at Ginny, fast asleep in her bed. According to Dobby, she hadn’t eaten anything, and she refused to get up or see anybody. She was only sleeping because she had taken a very strong potion for it.

“Mr. Harry Potter made Dobby promise he would take care of Mrs. Potter,” Dobby explained in a whisper. “Dobby didn’t know what to do.”

“Did you send a letter to Harry?” Hermione asked.

“Mr. Harry Potter did not leave his address, miss. So Dobby sent Hedwig to see if she can find him.”

“Well done, Dobby,” Hermione said. “I’ll take care of this now, don’t worry.”

Dobby bowed and went to the kitchen. Hermione sat on a chair in Ginny’s bedroom, staring worriedly at her former best friend. She was obviously depressed by Harry’s departure. After all, Harry was the only thing that Ginny had, considering all of her brothers lived far away from England... Hermione didn’t have anyone either, but she had always been stronger than Ginny. Maybe it was the way that they dealt with their emotions that made the difference.

How had they come to this? They used to be so happy and carefree! Hermione could hardly believe that once, the only worries Ginny and she had was if they’d ever find their true love. They used to have really long conversations in Beauxbatons before going to sleep, describing the man of their dreams...

Now that she thought about it, Ginny always described Harry. Her friend had been in love with him probably since she had met him. Hermione had teased her many times about her excess of adoration towards her brother’s friend. Then why had she forgotten about all that when she had met him? She could have saved a lot of pain from everyone if she had stayed away from Harry in the first place. Maybe she would have been able to fall in love with Draco or any other guy. Maybe Harry and Ginny would have been able to be happy together.

But Hermione wasn’t one to think about the ‘what ifs’. And even after all she had been through, she knew she would never regret falling in love with Harry Potter and accepting his love in return, even if it had been for such short moments. She had been truly happy those times that he had held her in his arms, and remembering his few moments with her was the only thing that comforted her nowadays.

Still, she wished she hadn’t lost Ginny’s friendship in the process. But how could they remain friends when they were in love with the same man? Ginny had the right to be angry at her. She had betrayed her trust and had gotten involved with her husband. It didn’t matter that she, Hermione, had had Harry first. Fate, or whatever it was, had made sure to separate them.

Ginny stirred slightly, and Hermione was hit by another thought. Ginny had only known about her relationship with Harry that horrible night in her house. But her strange attitude towards her had started a long time before that... Was she trying to hurt Draco at that time? But why? She couldn’t think of a reason why Ginny would hate Draco to the point of overlooking their friendship to make his life miserable.

No, Hermione was sure that Ginny had always been aiming towards her. The reason was something that she couldn’t even start to figure out.

* * *

Another day passed. Ginny still hadn’t woken up. Hermione had checked the ingredients of the potion she had brewed. It was very strong, indeed, but there was no reason to worry... yet.

She had stayed by her side all night. She hadn’t even returned to her flat. No matter what had happened between them, Hermione would not leave Ginny alone through this.

Hermione went to the library to look for a book to read while she waited for Ginny to wake up. She picked a couple that looked interesting, and was about to go back to Ginny’s room when her eyes caught sight of a bunch of parchments scattered on the floor, next to the desk that had belonged to Harry.

Being the tidy person she was, Hermione went to pick them up to leave them on the desk. She would have just left them there…if she hadn’t spotted the FOS emblem at the top of one of the pages. Thinking that maybe they had to do something with Harry, she grabbed them and read the first lines.

Section: 7

Case: Minister Salazar Slytherin's murder attempt, in October 1998.

Suspect: Arthur and Molly Weasley.

State: Closed.

"We had knowledge that the suspect’s neighbor, Albert H. Granger, a muggle, had befriended Weasley. He was a direct witness of the murder attempt that Weasley, with the help of his wife, perpetrated in the month of October, in 1998. We took Mr. Granger's wife, Susan, on November 1998, for "interrogation". Just as we had expected, Albert Granger arrived an hour later, asking for his wife. We explained the situation to him, and, at first, he refused to cooperate. Then, we threatened the life of his wife, a muggle, and his daughter, a mudblood. After a lot of pressure, he confessed what he knew, with the condition of a signed oath that his daughter would never be harmed by the FOS...

Hermione had to read those lines four times to take in what they were screaming to her. Now she understood everyting. Why her parents were so sure she wouldn’t be harmed by the Slytherin regime; why they got so angry when she tried to find out the Weasley’s whereabouts; why the FOS had signed that contract about not harming her as long as she stayed in France. That had finally killed her parents...

And Ginny’s attitude. Her father was the traitor she always talked about. He was responsible for the Weasley’s capture...

She shook her head, shaking. No, she couldn’t blame her dad. He was just a muggle. There was no way for him to understand what was going on. He must have been so scared when they threatened to hurt her and her mum... Hermione knew her dad was a very noble man, but he would always put his family above everything.

She sat down on a couch, squeezing the parchment in a fist. Ginny had told her so many times about how much she hated the person that had turned her father in... She wondered when Ginny had found out who did it. Had she contacted her in London knowing this? Was everything a perfectly deliberated plan to take revenge destroying her life? She couldn’t think that Ginny would do that. After all, Hermione had nothing to do with it... If her father had made a mistake, it wasn’t her fault...

“Miss?” she heard Dobby’s voice outside. “Mrs. Potter is awake...”

Hermione didn’t answer. She couldn’t face Ginny now. She just couldn’t...

* * *

Dobby had told her that Hermione was there. Ginny couldn’t understand why she was taking all that trouble after what had happened. But if she thought it would do anything to stop her from going on with her revenge, she was very mistaken.

Ginny still didn’t have the strength to get out of the bed. She still didn’t want to eat... She knew she was having a breakdown, but she wouldn’t let Hermione take advantage of it. She waited for Hermione sitting in her bed, with her red head in a bun and an expressionless face.

Why was Hermione taking so long to come and check on her? After all, she was there for her, wasn’t she? What was she doing? Looking for something that would tell her where Harry was now? Maybe that was the real reason why she was there...

The door opened slowly and Hermione stepped in the room. She had obviously been crying. Her eyes were red and puffy and the look on her face reminded Ginny of the time she had seen her at Daniel’s funeral. That memory made her feel a flash of sympathy, and she did her best to bury that feeling.

“Hermione,” she said, in a flat voice.

“Ginny.”

Hermione’s voice surprised Ginny. Knowing her, she had expected she would be relieved that she was alright and would start asking million questions, trying to make sure she could help in anything. But the look she was giving her was nothing like that. Actually, if Ginny had looked at herself in a mirror, she could have said that Hermione’s look was exactly the very same she was giving her.

“Are you feeling better?” Hermione asked, not in her usual caring voice.

“Yes. It was very kind of you to come here, but in case you don’t know already, my husband is out of the country.”

“I didn’t come to see him. I came to see you. Dobby was worried about you.”

“Well, I am fine. You can leave now. Your presence is not wanted here,” Ginny said, starting to feel a little irritated with Hermione’s look.

Hermione didn’t move. She stared at Ginny for a really long time.

“What?” the red headed asked finally.

“Why didn’t you tell me?”

“I beg your pardon?”

“You heard me. I asked why you didn’t tell me,” Hermione repeated slowly.

“If I knew what you were talking about, maybe I could answer,” Ginny said, puzzled.

Hermione threw something at her, the objects landing on her bedspread. It took her one second to realize it was the parchments...

“Ho..- Where did you get this?” she asked, grabbing them protectively.

“They were in the library.”

“It’s a hobby of yours to get your nose in other people’s things?” Ginny asked. Why was she panicking?

“They were scattered on the floor,” Hermione answered.

Ginny couldn’t believe she was so stupid. She had left those papers there the night she had almost burnt them. She had been so careless! But how was she going to imagine that Hermione would go to her house?

“All this time you’ve been having your payback on my expense, right?” Hermione asked when Ginny didn’t make any comments.

Ginny didn’t answer, but her silence was enough for Hermione. “I can’t believe you,” she muttered. “You’ve been destroying my life on purpose since you contacted me in London, haven’t you?”

“What do you think?” Ginny asked in return. “Would I have any other reasons to put up with you all this time?” It was a lie, and she knew it. She would have loved to be able to be friends with her...

Hermione let out a deep sigh and shook her head.

“So... What do you think about your daddy now?” Ginny asked then.

Hermione frowned. “He was scared. He was afraid for my mum and me. You can’t blame him, Ginny.”

“Don’t you think that my father was afraid for my mum and me too, when we were in La Sante? Still, he didn’t betray anyone...” Ginny said.

Hermione didn’t answer.

“Of course, you justify your father. You come from a family that has no idea what honor is. You don’t betray your friends, Hermione! Your father was scum, worse than the FOS—”

“He was just a human being! He was set up!” Hermione said, anger boiling inside of her.

“OK then, let’s build a monument for him!”

“I’m not saying that. I know that what he did caused you a lot of pain—”

“Pain?” Ginny yelled, getting out of the bed. “Pain? Are you bloody kidding me, Hermione? Pain doesn’t even start to cover it!! He destroyed my life! He killed my parents!”

“He didn’t! It was the FOS! It was Slytherin, my dad was only—”

“This is disgusting! How can you defend what he did?”

“I’m not—”

“You can’t imagine how many times I’ve hated myself for giving to you my dad’s grandchild. To you! Granger’s daughter!” Ginny hissed. “If I had known back then, I could have never accepted...”

Hermione’s eyes filled with tears. “I’m so sorry, Ginny,” she muttered sincerely.

“You being sorry won’t bring my parents back!” Ginny yelled. All her composure, the one she had worked so hard to build in these past years was being lost. She was letting out all the anger she felt inside. “I hope your father is rotting in hell, where he deserves to be!”

“That’s enough!” Hermione said, angry again.

“No, it’s not enough. Nothing that I say or do is ever enough!” Ginny retorted. She and Hermione were on opposite sides of the bedroom. It was a good thing that none of them had their wands on them, or they probably would have hexed each other. “He was a bloody worm, with not the slightest hint of honor—”

“Are you going to talk about honor?” Hermione yelled back. “How dare you! All this time, you’ve been letting Harry believe that it was his fault that your parents were caught... You have encouraged him to think that, to make him stay by your side!”

“That’s none of your damn business! He’s my husband,” Ginny said. She actually didn’t know what to say to that. Hermione’s words were so true, that they had really reached her, but she would never admit it.

“God, Gin, how could you have done that to him?” Hermione asked. From the look in her eyes, Ginny could tell she had actually just realized everything she had been doing since she had married Harry.

Ginny remained silent. She sat down on the edge of the bed, shaking. Hermione was right. How could she have done something like that to Harry? It was the only way, her mind answered. It was the only way she could have Harry by her side. She would have done much more than that to keep him with her. She turned to look at Hermione with fury in her eyes. Why? She had done so much to win Harry’s love... But he still loved Hermione...

“I guess that now you want me to give up on him to pay for my sins, don’t you?” she said. “Give him to you.”

“Give him to me?” Hermione asked and let out a sarcastic laugh. “He’s a person, not a bloody object. I feel so sorry for you, Ginny, I really do. You have never been able to give love to anyone...”

Yes I have. I loved my father, I loved Daniel and I loved Harry... And you took them all away from me.

“How amusing! Here we are, once again, with Hermione, the shrink, analizing my personality,” Ginny sneered.

“I don’t think anyone can analyze such a twisted personality,” was Hermione’s response, before she stormed out of the room and that house, not wanting to ever come back.

“Don’t think I will stop this, Hermione! Not ever! You deserve to suffer as much as we did!!” Ginny screamed at the top of her lungs, but only her own echo could be heard.

* * *

March, 2004

In just a couple of months she’d be at Hogwarts, Hermione kept repeating to herself. All her resolution to leave everything behind her had been shattered after finding those documents. She couldn’t believe that Ginny had actually the mission to ruin her life.

She just wanted to forget she knew her. Unfortunately, that was easier said than done. Almost as hard as not thinking about Harry. It was almost a routine to Hermione to think about him every minute of the day. Now, she couldn’t stop wondering what would he say if he knew all of this... Would he be angry at Ginny? Or maybe he would despise Hermione’s dad too... Maybe he would even hate her, just like Ginny...

She was trying to get some sleep – something she hadn’t been able to achieve since she had come back from Ginny’s house – when she heard a knock on her door. She checked the clock on her night table. It was 2 in the morning. Alarmed, she rushed to open it. Maybe it was Dobby again...

She froze on the spot when she saw who was. A face she hadn’t expected to see in a long time... A face staring at her with an unreadable expression. A face she loved more than life itself.

Before she could even say anything, Harry Potter entered in her apartment and closed the door behind him.

* * *

25. The End of the Road

Chapter 24 – The End of the Road

It was the strangest situation. They were standing a few feet from each other, (Hermione had taken a few steps back in surprise when he stepped in) with their eyes locked and their mouths shut. She was dressed in her cotton pajamas, and he was wearing a heavy cloak on his shoulders.

She didn’t need to ask how he knew she lived there. Remus had probably told him about her moving, and her divorce. She was also sure that Albus Dumbledore had informed him she had accepted his offer to teach at Hogwarts. No, the best question was what was he doing there? Had he come because he had found out about Ginny? Was he there to despise her, or to offer his support? Or was it something else? She wanted to ask him, but she couldn’t move. She was holding her breath in expectation, waiting for him to speak. His face was unreadable, and she once again was amazed at his ability for hiding his emotions.

Having him there was something she hadn’t expected. It had been only a month since they had seen each other for the last time, but she had been so sure she wouldn’t see him again for a while...or not? Had she actually been keeping the hidden hope that he would come back?

He just stood there, his mouth forming a thin line. She wouldn’t have been surprised if an hour had passed since he had crossed the threshold. It seemed that neither of them wanted to break the silence that had overcome Hermione’s flat. She was afraid. His presence there was going to break all the stability she had managed to build in this month, she was sure of that. It didn’t matter what he said or did... Her whole world would be upside down again, revolving around Harry Potter. To be fair, she wasn’t sure it had ever been something different since she had met him.

Please say something, Harry. I can’t stand this anymore.

Finally, Harry took a deep breath. “We have to talk,” he said, slowly.

He knows. He came here to talk about my father. She didn’t even budge. She wondered what he had to say about it. Had Ginny told him everything? Had she even said the truth? He would obviously want Hermione’s side of the story. And what was she going to say? It wasn’t her fault; she had nothing to do with it. But she would defend her father. She wasn’t going to let anyone offend him anymore— Focus, Hermione. She forced herself to look him in the eye, eagerly waiting for him to continue.

Harry seemed a little disconcerted by her silence and he hesitated for a second. He looked at his feet, uncomfortable. He closed his eyes and cursed under his breath. Then, he looked at Hermione again.

“I’m an idiot.”

Hermione didn’t know what to think about that. There could be so many meanings to those simple words. She finally seemed to awaken from her shock. “Why?” she asked warily, not knowing what to expect.

“Because...” his words faded and he swallowed. Suddenly, he didn’t look very sure of himself anymore. “Because I had this great speech prepared to say to you, and now I forgot it, and... I don’t know how to say what I came to say.”

“And that makes you an idiot?” Hermione asked. That was all she could say to him in a moment like that? Maybe she was an idiot, too…

“No, not just that. I’m an idiot for many other reasons. But mostly for letting you go.”

Hermione’s eyes widened.

“This month has been hell, in every way,” Harry continued, running a hand through his hair. “It has been even worse than the time I spent in Azkaban. At least, back then I believed that, if I ever got out of there, you would be waiting for me.”

Hermione tried to say something, but no sound came out of her mouth.

“I tried, Hermione,” Harry said, moving a step closer. “I tried to live my life without you once and it didn’t work. I don’t know what I was thinking when I thought that moving to America would help me to leave everything behind, when it obviously only made everything worse. I couldn’t stop thinking that I had left you when you most needed me because of some stupid, childish, egocentric reaction that I...” he took a deep breath and slowly blew it back out. “I understand why you couldn’t tell me. It only shows what an honorable and loyal person you are...”

“No,” Hermione interrupted in a whisper. “You were right to be angry. You have done nothing but be honest with me. You trusted me, even when it was really hard for you to confide in someone, and I should have done the same.”

Harry shook his head. “I didn’t back away because of that.” Hermione looked at him, puzzled. “At first, I was disappointed. I wanted to be the only one you could count on, and it hurt me to know that you have been hiding something so important, that you haven’t asked for my help. I know, it’s incredibly selfish. When I could see beyond my own feelings, I realized I was being unfair to you... I was really embarrassed.”

Hermione could hardly hide her surprise. “Then why...? Why didn’t you say anything? You could have talked to me.”

“I know,” he said. “But Daniel had just died,” he said softly, and her eyes showed a painful expression, “and then the funeral came. I saw you with Draco... You two needed each other in that moment. You were Daniel’s parents, after all. When I saw him sitting beside you, I felt like an outsider, and thought that maybe you two would find a way to work things out, to save your marriage. After all, he would pay your debts, and you would have a chance to start over. I didn’t want to get in the middle. I couldn’t stand the thought of hurting you and—”

“You thought that I wanted to stay with Draco?” Hermione cut him off. If she hadn’t been so nervous, she would have laughed at the stupid idea. “Harry...you should know better than anyone that my marriage was doomed to end. How could I have stayed with someone I didn’t love? Especially after meeting you again!” She rubbed her forehead. “There was no reason for us to stay together.”

“I know that now,” he said, after a pause. “And frankly, I’m relieved.”

“Why, because now I’m free again?” she asked, her voice recovering some of the sarcasm that had made her famous before this whole nightmare started. “What about you? Are you free?”

Harry didn’t answer, and another long silence filled the room. Hermione started pacing. Why was she acting like that? Wasn’t she happy that Harry was there, apparently trying to recover their relationship? Yes, she was. But she was also terrified to give her heart to him again, just to be shattered into pieces for the millionth time. No matter what, there was always something that broke them apart, and she was tired of it.

“I came here today because I’ve had enough,” Harry spoke again, and she forced herself to look him in the eyes. “I won’t pretend anymore that I’m tough, and that it’s the best for everyone if we stay apart. I don’t care anymore! I don’t care about Ginny, or Draco... I just want to be with you. I know I can’t offer you a marriage, but if you are willing to accept me, I can promise that I’ll never leave you again.”

Hermione felt a lump in her throat that was making it really hard to swallow. Looking into his eyes, she could feel every one of his emotions. She knew he was being honest. But still...

“Harry,” she said, slowly walking towards the living room. He followed her with his gaze. “I... I don’t know if I can do this. We’ve made so many mistakes! We’ve hurt so many people, including ourselves...”

“We’ve hurt them, and us, because we have been stupid enough to believe that we could make it by ourselves!” He walked towards her and took her hands in his. Hermione’s eyes were teary and she tried to avoid Harry’s eyes. “Look at me,” he asked in a soft whisper. She did, and it was then when she knew that resistance was futile. “I know we’ve gone the wrong way, but there has always been one thing that hasn’t changed, no matter what,” Harry said, still holding her close. “And that is my love for you. And this time I won’t let anything or anyone to get in the way.”

Hermione couldn’t resist anymore. She realized she had made her mind up from the start. Instead of answering with words, she wrapped her arms around his neck. Harry let out a happy sigh and kissed her temple, then her cheek and finally her lips. For a couple of blissful seconds in Harry’s arms, she was too happy to think about anything else...

But reality soon called her to attention, and even when she could have well stayed like that forever, she knew that, as perfect as their reunion seemed, there was much that needed to be taken care of. There was still one thing that could ruin everything. So she broke the kiss and walked towards the small couch in the living room, sitting down. Harry gave her a quizzical look and followed her.

“What is it?” he asked gently, taking her hand in his. His eyes were afraid, and Hermione knew he was wondering if she had decided to reject him after all.

“You haven’t seen Ginny, have you?”

Harry’s expression became more cautious. “No, I came back to see you.”

“You didn’t receive Dobby’s owl either?” she asked then, tucking a strand of hair behind her ear.

“Dobby’s owl? No... Something happened?” Harry asked, concerned.

She look into his eyes and sighed. “Yes, Harry.”

He nodded, inviting her to tell him. Hermione knew she had to be honest with him. She had to tell him everything she had discovered in his house. She would have to tell him that it had been her father who had betrayed the Weasleys. It would also mean he would find out that Ginny had been lying to him all this time. But she couldn’t keep this from him. The only secret she ever kept had became her worst nightmare. Hopefully, Harry would be reasonable about it. She was afraid, she couldn’t deny it. She knew that Arthur and Molly Weasley were like parents to Harry, and it wouldn’t be easy to tell him that it had been her father who was the one that had given the crucial information to the FOS...

“Hermione,” Harry said. “Come on, you know you can tell me anything.”

Yes, she knew. Taking a deep breath, she started from the beginning, when she had met Ginny in Paris and she had told her about the person that had turned her father in. She then told him about the papers she had found, the vengeance Ginny had been focused on since they had moved to London, and how she had confronted her about it. When she finished, Harry stayed in silence, with his hand forming a fist, covering his mouth. He looked thoughtful. Hermione was too anxious to know what he had to say about it, but she didn’t dare to ask.

Finally, Harry turned to her once again and put an arm around her shoulders, moving her closer to him. “You must have been through a lot,” he said, kissing the top of her head. “I can’t believe that Gin did all of that to you.”

Hermione look up at him. “You’re not angry?”

“Yes, I am. With her.”

“No, I mean—”

“With your father?” he finished for her. She nodded. “I don’t agree with what he did, but I understand his motives. He only wanted to protect you and your mum and that was the only way he could think of... I wish he was here now so we could talk about it, though.”

Hermione’s eyes filled with tears and she hugged Harry. “Thank you,” she whispered.

“What for? None of this is your fault, Hermione. No matter what your father did, Ginny has no right to do this to you. I’m going to see her tomorrow.”

“No Harry, you don’t have to...”

“Yes, I do. Besides, I have to settle something else with her.”

Hermione didn’t argue anymore. She was content, after all. She and Harry were together, and this time no one would be able to break them apart. She didn’t care if Ginny never gave him the divorce. As long as she was with him, she had nothing to fear.

They stayed like that for a long time, in silence; only this time it wasn’t an uncomfortable one. Both were too happy to express their emotions with words, and Hermione wanted to feel him near, to convince herself that this was really happening. So many things had happened between them. They had risked their lives together to run away from the FOS; they had fallen in love; they had been torn apart by that bloody war and tricked into marrying other people. They had met again, and had inevitably been dragged back to each other. Her son had died... Her best friend had decided to destroy her life. But, despite everything, she was with Harry again. I should write a novel, Hermione thought with a bittersweet feeling.

“Harry...” she said, suddenly remembering something. “How do you know Draco would pay our debts?”

“Hmmm?” he asked, coming out of his own thoughts.

“You said that now that Draco would pay our debts, we could start over. I never told Remus about that.”

“Oh, that,” he said, with a guilty expression. “Well, I guess there’s no point in hiding it from you. I gave him the money.”

“You what?”

“You heard me. There was no way he could have got that money, and Ginny’s lawyers would be still all over you if he hadn’t paid. I didn’t want that. I wanted you to have peace.”

“He never told me anything...” Hermione was amazed at Draco’s attitude. She couldn’t believe he had accepted money- from Harry of all people.

“I asked him not to. I’m sorry, I should have told you.”

“No, it’s okay.” She took his hand and kissed it. “You saved me again.”

Harry looked like he was going to protest, but finally decided not to, and kissed her softly. “So,” he said, smiling for the first time, “do you think it would be too soon if I move in today?”

Hermione smiled as well. “Too soon? Don’t you think we’ve waited long enough?”

* * *

Ginny was walking in the garden. She hated that house. It was so big and empty... She felt even lonelier than she was. Everything inside it seemed to be laughing at her. She was the pathetic, abandoned witch. Nothing in her life was right.

She sighed, and turned to go back inside the house. However, she only managed to walk a few steps when she saw him, coming to her. One look at him, and she realized he was a different man from the one who had lived in that same place a month ago. How could she describe it? His eyes weren’t haunted and troubled anymore. There was a peaceful aura surrounding him...

“Harry?”

“Hello, Ginny,” Harry said, stopping in front of her.

She fought the urge to throw herself at him. “I didn’t know you were back.”

“I arrived yesterday.”

“Dobby told me he had written to you... I’m alright now, if that’s why you are here.”

“Let’s take a walk,” he said.

Ginny followed him, knowing that something was going on. She didn’t show her concerns, though, and smiled. He wasn’t saying anything, so she decided to start some conversation.

“How was the United States?”

“Okay.”

“Are you going back?”

“No.”

“Oh...” Does this have to do with Hermione? Are you staying here for her? “Now that I’ve been alone, I’ve been thinking a lot, you know? I wondered what would have been of my life if my mum and dad were still alive. There wouldn’t have been any tortures, no La Sante, Krum or Daniel... I could have given you a child...”

“We wouldn’t have got married,” he interrupted, turning to look at her with a serious expression.

She looked taken aback. “Why do you say that?”

“I’ve been thinking too.”

“I don’t understand—”

“I think you know what I’m saying, Gin.” Her face was expressionless, and Harry sighed in frustration. “You told me that I had led the FOS to Arthur and Molly. You’ve lied to me about everything, even about them! You’ve been playing with me, making me feel guilty...” he stopped walking. “You made me believe I had killed the only people who had been like parents to me.”

Putting it that way, she had done something horrible. She always knew it wasn’t right to lie to Harry, but she always felt it was the only way to keep him for herself, to make him happy. She looked down, not able to stand the hurt look in his eyes.

“She told you,” she accused.

“Yes, she did.”

“So you’ve been with her...”

“Yes. I am with her.”

Ginny felt a rush of anger. “What a heroic man, the father of your little girlfriend was, huh?”

“A lot of people gave in to the FOS.”

“You didn’t. Neither did my father.”

“I didn’t come to talk about that.”

“I really want to know what you think about your dear Hermione now,” Ginny insisted.

“This has nothing to do with her! I can’t believe what you’ve been doing all this time. It’s not her fault, Ginny, how can you punish her for something in which she has no responsibility?”

“My father asked me to make the traitor’s family pay. It’s a matter of honor. I gave my word to him.”

“You know that Arthur would have never asked you something like that,” Harry said, looking at her with pity.

“But he did!” she exclaimed.

“I don’t believe you. He was a fair man. He wouldn’t have wanted you to ruin your life for a meaningless revenge.”

“Meaningless? You think that restoring my family’s honor is meaningless?”

“You are making no sense at all! The only way you could destroy your family’s honor is by doing what you have!”

“How can you do this to me?” she said, so softly he barely heard her. She was too close to lose her control.

“You have done this to yourself,” Harry said. “Listen, I won’t let you hurt Hermione anymore. I don’t care what you do to me, but if you dare to make her suffer, you’ll know who I am.”

He spoke calm and quietly, but Ginny knew he was being serious. She had never been afraid of him before. Of his reactions, maybe, but of him...

“She betrayed your friends and destroyed my life,” she protested, with her best arrogant tone. He gave her an exasperated look. Ginny bit her lip. “Your dear Mrs. Malfoy hasn’t suffered as half as much as I have.”

“She’s not Mrs. Malfoy anymore.”

“I see. She’s divorced now, huh? Too bad that I’m not as docile as Draco. I will never gi—”

“I don’t care,” he cut her off. “That won’t stop us this time.”

“You do know that I won’t let you be happy with her, don’t you?” she asked, her eyes narrowed.

Harry shook his head. “You are crazy.”

She smirked. There was nothing more to say, and Harry left the house.

* * *

September 2004

Hermione had forgotten what it was like to wake happy in the mornings, feel grateful for the things she received, and keep that good feeling when she went to bed at night. But these five months had been more than enough to bring her back to life. Part of that happiness was because of her new job at Hogwarts. She absolutely adored teaching, her students, the castle, and the teacher’s staff. But of course, the main reason was Harry. Having him by her side was enough to be strong enough to face the world. Sure, sometimes she felt a little scared of Ginny. She hadn’t seen or heard of her in a long time, but she thought about her often.

She and Harry had moved to another flat in Hogsmeade. It was a little bigger than Hermione’s, and she loved it, because it was their place. Albus Dumbledore had given Hermione permission to leave Hogwarts everyday, once her teaching schedule was over. He had been very supportive of their relationship. “I’ve never seen Harry this happy,” he told her once. Even Draco had dropped by once, and seemed fine with their relationship. He was dating someone else, an older woman who was conveniently rich.

Harry had told her – quite reluctantly – about his conversation with Ginny. Hermione felt really sorry for her ex-friend. There was no day when she didn’t wonder how she was feeling, and if she could, she would have gone to her house. It didn’t matter what Ginny had done to her, Hermione wasn’t angry at her anymore.

If she was able to leave the past behind, why couldn’t Ginny?

Harry had left three days ago. He had to go to the office in the United States. He had named someone to take care of the Foundation’s business there, but he still needed to supervise what was being done. He had quit his other job, in the Weasley’s joke shop. After what had happened with Ginny, he didn’t feel comfortable working there. Fred and George had protested, saying that he was still their friend, no matter what. But Harry had made his choice.

That night, Hermione was washing the dishes after having a quick dinner all by herself. The apartment felt empty without Harry, and she chuckled thinking how used she had got to live with him. Suddenly, she felt sick. A nausea came over her and she had to run to the bathroom. She felt dizzy. Not again, she thought. This had been happening to her all week.

A realization washed over her. She couldn’t be... pregnant? She felt a strange mixture of concern and excitement. She sat in the bathroom floor, trying to think of the symptoms. When she went to bed, an hour later, she was sure she was going to have a child.

Next day, her suspicions were confirmed. She went to the school’s nurse, and she told her, smiling, that she was going to be a mother. Hermione cried happily. She had always wanted to have a big family... And after Daniel’s death, she had thought she wouldn’t be able to. But now she was carrying Harry’s child inside her, and that was the best gift life had ever given her.

When she arrived in her apartment that night, she dashed towards the fireplace, to floo Harry and tell him the big news. She contacted the hotel and while she was waiting, another thought overwhelmed her. What if Harry didn’t want a child yet? No, she knew he wanted to be a father, he had told her that. She remembered the time when Ginny had told him she was pregnant. But that was different. He was married to her. Maybe he hadn’t expected this to happen so soon. They had been careless. She wouldn’t be able to deal with Harry’s reaction if it wasn’t as happy as hers.

“Hermione?”

She jumped to see his face staring at her worriedly in the fireplace.

“Umm, yes, how are you?”

“I’m alright. And you?” he asked, eyeing her.

Hermione swallowed. Maybe it would be better to tell him when he came back. Yes, she definitely wanted to tell him when she had him in front of her... entirely. “I’m okay,” she said, smiling faintly. “When are you coming back?”

“I’m not sure, I have to finish something here. Maybe at the end of the week.”

Hermione nodded. Would she be able to wait until then?

“Are you sure you’re okay?” Harry asked. “You sound strange.”

“I’m just tired, Harry, don’t worry.”

Harry lifted an eyebrow, but he didn’t say anything.

* * *

The next evening, she was having a cup of tea in the kitchen, when she heard the front door opening. Startled, she grabbed her wand and walked slowly out of the kitchen. Harry was there, soaking wet from the hard rain outside, hanging up his cloak.

“Harry?” she asked surprised. “What are you doing here? I thought you said you’d be coming—”

“What did you want to tell me yesterday?”

“Eeeeh...” What was wrong with her? Just tell him!

“Please tell me, I know something big is going on. Did Ginny do something to you? Is this about Draco?” he pleaded, giving her his famous piercing stare.

“No,” she said, laughing softly. “It’s nothing like that. I needed to tell you that... Well, I... Bugger, I’ll just say it: Harry, I’m pregnant.”

Harry’s jaw dropped. “Pre-pregnant?”

“I’m sure. I don’t know how you feel about this, but I’m really happy. I’ll understand if you think it’s too soon, but there’s nothing we can do about it now. I was scared to tell you, because we have never discussed this and...”

“Hermione, stop,” he said. She looked at his face and his green eyes were shining with tears. “This is the best news I’ve ever received.”

* * *

October 2004

Curious. It was curious how she felt. She had thought that she would be in a numb state ever since she saw Harry leaving that afternoon, after their heated discussion. She had expected another depression, this time too deep to even have the strength to grieve.

But there she was, working in her office. She had retaken all of her activities in “Virginia Weasley Fashion”. Working helped her to ease her mind, clear her thoughts and be able to wake up each morning.

In those months, Harry’s words had haunted her without mercy. “You know that Arthur would have never asked you something like that. He was a fair man. He wouldn’t have wanted you to ruin your life for a meaningless revenge.The only way you could destroy your family’s honor is by doing what you have!”

She tried to think about something else. She went to the sewing room, where the dressmakers were working on the new designs. Before she stepped into the room, she heard two of the women there whispering. She recognized them as two of the dressmakers that used to work with Hermione when she was still at the company.

“How many months?”

“Two, I think. She was really happy when she told me.”

“They look so cute together. I’m really sorry they can’t get married. Hermione has suffered so much already. And I’m sure that Mr. Potter is a lot better than that Malfoy.”

“Yes, but at least now they’ll have the baby...”

Ginny’s heart skipped a beat. Baby? Hermione was pregnant? She locked herself in her office. She felt miserable. She had never been able to give Harry a son. And even that, Hermione had accomplished. She had won, again.

She didn’t even notice when midnight came. She couldn’t force herslef to leave that room. She couldn’t stop thinking about Harry. Was he happy? She wanted him to be. But not without her. She remembered his words again.

You know that Arthur would have never asked you something like that.

But he hadn’t been there. He hadn’t been in La Sante, with them. He hadn’t heard that final conversation. Despite herself, she started to build the whole scene in her mind again, something she had been avoiding for years.

She was in that disgusting room again. Her father was in front of her...

“Someone... Someone that holds a grudge against me invented that accusation.”

“You really think that? That someone accused you, and told the FOS?”

Arthur nodded. “There’s no other explanation. They know too many details about my life,” he sighed. “Whoever it was, that’s my real enemy.”

“Not Slytherin? Not the FOS?” Ginny asked quietly.

“Them, too. But this was something personal. There’s nothing lower than betraying a friend.”

“He or she should suffer as much as you,” Ginny said, with a tone of hate in her voice that she didn’t know she could use. Mr. Weasley remained silent. “And his or her family too,” Ginny added. “Just like ours.”

“Ginny...” Arthur muttered, and his voice went out.

It was then he made her swear. She remembered it clearly. He had asked her to restore the family’s honor and make the traitor’s family suffer. Then why didn’t that image come to her head? Why couldn’t she remember the exact words, or even the tone in her father’s voice?

“Ginny...”

“Dad... As long as I live, the traitor’s family will suffer. I swear it, on the Weasley’s pride.”

Her eyes widened. It couldn’t be... No....

Why had she believed all this time that her father had asked that of her? Was her mind in such a numb state that she had made it up and then actually believed it? All these years, she had been living, only moved by that revenge. She had destroyed many lives, including hers...

She went back to her house immediately. She took all the FOS reports, and, after reading them for the last time, she burnt them. There was no point in continuing with everything she had carefully planned over the years. Harry was right. How could she actually think that her father would have asked such a thing of her?

But Hermione had taken Harry away. If Ginny wanted, she could still make her life miserable. But that would mean hurting Harry, too. And she had done enough already.

It was late, but she sat behind the desk and started to write.

* * *

“Owl post,” Hermione informed, carefully lifting her tea cup off the table to give the birds some space. It was a Saturday’s morning, and she was having breakfast with Harry. He always received loads of post due to his work.

Harry skimmed through what the owls had brought, and he stopped when he spotted one letter.

“What is it?” Hermione asked, noticing his face.

“It’s a letter from Ginny,” he said, opening it slowly, with a slight frown.

“Do you want me to leave you alone?” she asked.

“Of course not. Let’s read it together,” he said warily and they started to read.

“Dear Harry,

Since I talked to you for the last time, I’ve been going through a weird phase. I’ve been thinking about everything that has happened between us... Well, not just that. I’ve also thought about La Sante, my parents and Hermione.

Before you frown, let me tell you, it’s not what you think. Actually, I think my sanity, which was lost sometime on this crazy road, has come back. I was finally able to look at things in perspective, and, for maybe the first time in my life, I understood.

I’ve hurt you in so many ways, that I doubt you’ll ever be able to forgive me. Still, even if what I did to you was horrible, I did it because I truly love you. I know it wasn’t the best way to show that to you, but in the time, I was convinced that it was the right thing to do.

There’s no excuse for my actions. I could say it was the war’s fault, but a lot of people suffered as much – or maybe more- than I did, and they aren’t this messed up. You were right. I’m crazy. And my father never asked me that. It was an illusion, that maybe I invented for myself to let the pain go somehow. I’m so, so sorry.

Well, enough of this mushy confession. The reason why I’m writing to you is to tell you that I accept the divorce. It’s the least I can do, after all. So you decide the reasons, you deal with the lawyers, I don’t really care. You are free now.

I’ll only ask one thing of you. If you ever find the heart to forgive me for what I’ve done to you, please be my friend again. I’m talking about those times when you were like another brother to me. I know it’s a lot to ask, but it’s what I’d really want.

I hope you are happy.

Love,

Ginny

PS: Congratulations on the baby. Please say hi to Hermione for me.

A/N: Okay, finally I caught up with what was in FFnet. No only the epilogue is left, so as soon as I have it ready I’ll post it here and there.

26. Epilogue

A/N: At last, it’s here!

Epilogue

“Which one, the black or the blue?”

“I don’t mind, you look great in both.”

“Harry! I need your opinion!”

“Fine... The black one.”

“But isn’t it too dark for the ocassion?”

“Well, the blue then.”

“But don’t you think it’s too elegant? I’ll look like a snob.”

Harry looked at his wife standing in front of the mirror with two robes, staring critically at her reflection while she tried to decide what to wear. He smiled broadly before walking over to her. He stood behind her in the mirror’s reflection.

“What?” she asked, looking at his mirror image.

“Since when do you care so much about your outfit?”

“I don’t,” she said. She sighed and left the robes on the bed. “But this is... different. I’m so—”

“Nervous,” he finished for her.

Hermione nodded and he pulled her into a hug, kissing her softly on the lips.

“You don’t have to be nervous; I’ll be with you, right?”

“I know, but still... It’ll be the first time we see each other for a long time.”

“Everything will be fine, you’ll see.”

Hermione nodded, but the anxiety didn’t disappear. Facing Ginny was something she had avoided for the last ten years. It hadn’t been hard. Ginny hadn’t really wanted to see them either. Right after Harry and Ginny had signed the divorce papers, the red-head had decided to leave England and move to the United States, where Fred and George had been living for some time. She wrote to Harry to tell him how she was doing every once in a while. In those letters, she would always ask about Hermione and the kids, but Hermione always felt it was some sort of forced and obligatory question. Recently, Ginny had moved to Paris, and was having a big party to celebrate the opening of a new boutique of “Virginia Weasley Fashion”. Harry and Hermione had discussed for quite a while whether they should go or not when they received the invitation, and it was finally Hermione who had been the one who had decided to go. It was time to face the past and close that episode in their lives.

Hermione finally decided to wear the black robe and she put her hair in a loose bun that framed her face. She was almost 34 years old, but Harry liked to remind her that her face still looked like she was 18. She turned to face her husband.

“Well? How do I look?”

Harry smiled and kissed her again. “Gorgeous, as usual.” Hermione smiled back and let him kiss her neck. “Darling,” Harry said then, “what if we stay here a little longer? I don’t think anyone would mind if we arrived late...”

Hermione laughed softly and kissed him. Actually, his offer didn’t sound bad. She could definitely spend the evening in his arms, kissing him and...

“Mum! Dad!”

Harry and Hermione broke apart and, after a sigh, they grinned at each other. Hermione smoothed her robe and walked to the small living area of their hotel room. In the fireplace, it was the smiling face of their older son, Jamie.

“Finally! I thought you were out already,” the boy said, his brown eyes shining behind his glasses.

“We were about to leave. Is everything alright?” Hermione asked.

“Yes, we just wanted to say goodnight,” another voice said, and Ellie, their 7 year old daughter appeared beside her brother.

“Hey, you should be in bed by now,” Harry said, looking at the two kids fondly.

“Dad, it’s Saturday,” Jamie said, rolling his eyes in a very Hermione-ish way.

“You’re not giving Remus a hard time, are you?” Hermione asked.

“We are not, but Michael and Amy...” started Ellie.

“Wur fine!” Amy’s voice cried. “I’ve been a goog girl, mummy.”

Hermione smiled at the three year old’s face that had pushed her way into the fireplace. “What about Michael? Is he giving Remus too much trouble?”

“I think Uncle Remus is about to have a heart attack,” Jaime said and Ellie giggled.

“All right, kids, time to go to bed,” Remus’s voice echoed from somewhere in the background. Jamie, Ellie and Amy waved goodbye and disappeared. Two second later, Remus’s face popped into the fire. “How are you two?”

“We are excellent,” Harry said, kissing his wife on the cheek.

“The kids are behaving, aren’t they?” Hermione asked.

“Of course they are! You have four adorable angels.” Harry raised an eyebrow, and Remus smiled sheepishly. “Fine, I’ll admit that little Michael needs more attention that the other three, but after all, he’s only a year old...”

“I knew we shouldn’t have left them, Harry,” Hermione said.

“Please, Hermione. We are having a great time here, the five of us,” Remus said, dismissively. “Besides, you deserve a weekend off.”

“Thanks again, Remus. We truly appreciate this,” Harry grinned.

Remus winked and said goodbye. Harry turned to Hermione. “Shall we go?”

Hermione nodded and let Harry put her cloak on. The sight of her family had given her strength. She adored her kids and her husband, and she felt that she was the happiest woman on Earth. In her heart, of course, she would always have five kids; she would never forget that son she had lost so long ago, and for whom she still grieved sometimes, late at night, with Harry holding her tightly.

She took his hand and they disapparated together.

* * *

The Boutique was quite big. Ginny was having the inauguration there, surrounded by the new designs. Hermione understood that the company was actually doing really well, and she felt glad for her former best friend.

They spotted a few familiar faces. Harry greeted some of the people he used to relate to when he was married to Ginny, and only then Hermione thought that maybe he was as uncomfortable as she. She looked anxiously for Ginny and finally spotted her in the middle of a crowd. She looked really beautiful. Her hair was shorter, and time hadn’t passed by her.

Harry and Hermione exchanged a look, and Harry headed slowly towards Ginny, with Hermione breathing fast behind him.

“Hello, Gin,” Harry said.

Ginny turned around and her eyes shone when she caught sight of Harry. Quickly, she muttered an apology and got out of the crowd, approaching the Potters.

“Harry!” she exclaimed, giving him a hug. “You look great!” Her eyes fell on Hermione then, and her smile didn’t fade. “You too, Hermione. It’s nice to see you again.”

She slowly offered her hand and Hermione shook it. “I’m glad to see you so well,” Hermione replied.

Ginny shrugged. “I can’t complain.”

She stayed with them a while longer, asking about the kids and trivial things. Harry did most of the talking, Hermione remained silent, and every once in a while she commented on something. She observed Ginny carefully. There wasn’t sarcasm or arrogance in her attitude... Maybe this time had really changed her for good.

Later, Ginny left them alone. Harry had met an old friend and was enthusiastically talking to him, so Hermione took the chance to sneak out of the party. She wanted a little of fresh air and the night was so lovely, she couldn’t resist the temptation to take a walk. She hadn’t been in Paris for so long...

She hadn’t meant it, at least not consciously, but her feet led her to Daguerre Street. When she realized she was in front of the house she had lived in for so long, she gasped. It was changed, obviously, but it was still her house. A wave of melancholy washed over her, and she wiped a lonely tear that had trailed down her cheek. She remembered her mum watering the garden, her dad reading the newspaper in the living room, and Ginny and her gossiping in her bedroom...

“It hasn’t changed much, has it? The street, I mean.”

Hermione swirled around and found Ginny, wrapped in her black cloak, staring at her. They looked at each other for a moment, and finally Hermione turned to look at the house again.

“No, it hasn’t...” she whispered. “We have, though.”

“Indeed.” Ginny walked towards her until they were side by side, both of them with their eyes fixed on the houses.

A long silence followed. Hermione was nervous at first, but was surprised to see that she started to feel at ease with Ginny’s company. She wanted to say something, but wasn’t sure of what.

“Actually, you haven’t changed that much,” Ginny spoke again, without looking at her. “You’re still very much the same silly girl I used to hang out with.”

“You’re calling me silly?” Hermione asked, slightly amused.

“Yeah,” Ginny said, smiling faintly. “But I always admired your silliness.”

Those words touched Hermione deeply. She knew that Ginny was, in her own way, apologizing. She would never say “I’m sorry” out loud, but it was enough that she would acknowledge their friendship.

“We had a great time here, didn’t we?” Hermione asked, in a cheerful tone.

The red head shrugged. “Yes... Sometimes I miss it a lot.”

Hermione wondered if she had wanted to say I miss you instead of it, but she knew it was probably wishful thinking.

“Gin... If you ever... If you ever go to London... I’d love to see you...”

Ginny turned to her and looked at her eyes. “Thanks, Hermione. Maybe I will.” She looked at her watch. “I should probably go back. It was nice talking to you.”

She started to walk away, but stopped and turned around again. “Harry looks happy. Take care of him, will you?”

Hermione nodded, incapable of saying anything else. She watched Ginny disappear. They would probably never be friends again, but she had the incredible feeling that something had been solved, that the most painful part in her life had been buried deep down and would never return again. She felt peaceful and at ease with the world.

She heard steps coming towards her from a different angle, and a few second later a pair of arms surrounded her from behind and Harry’s familiar scent enveloped her.

“Are you alright?” he asked softly.

“Yes, I’m perfectly fine,” she said sincerely.

“Really? She didn’t do anything to you, did she?”

Hermione turned to look at him. “Were you worried?”

“I saw you leaving, and then her... I guessed you were coming here, so I followed you. I kept my distance in case you wanted to be alone... But I was ready to jump in if I saw her trying to do something to you.”

She couldn’t help but smile at his concern. “She is different now, Harry. We are at peace.”

Somehow, he didn’t need further explanation. It was enough for him to see her smiling face. He removed a lock of hair that had fallen onto her face and kissed her lovingly. Then he put his arm around her shoulders and looked at the house.

“Do you know what I thought the first time I came to this place?” he asked, pointing the Weasley’s house.

“What?”

“I’ll never forget the day I met Hermione Granger.”

And with their hands intertwined, they turned their backs to the past and walked away, to the future they were building together.

THE END

A/N: Well guys, its’ over. I had a lot of fun writing this (yes, and I suffered too) and I don’t know how to thank everyone who has stick with me through this. To all of you who read, and specially to the ones who reviewed, thank you very, very much.

A lot of people have asked me about the book I based this story in. I’m not quite sure how that book got to me, considering it’s from 1989 and I don’t know how popular it is. I just remember buying in in some street stand about four years ago and falling in love with its powerful story. For those of you who haven’t read it (because I know that there are people that looked for it to see how the original version was) I must tell you that I softened a lot of parts, and I tried to portray Ginny and Draco in a more human way... You should see Draco’s character in the book!

Special thanks to Emily, Kris, Nitya, Sandra, Amynoelle, Heaven, MariantheLibrarian, Psy_Girl and Pen for their help and encouragement.

Your truly,

Angel-Wing