A/N: So I pretty much forgot about this story when I happened to come across it and realized I owed it to myself- and to my readers- to finish, especially since I had the last couple chapters half-written already. I'll have the final chapters up within in the month. THanks to anybody who is still reading this story.
Chapter Fifteen: Malfoy Comes Out of the Closet, and Hannah Says Goodbye
"I'm really, really tired, " Hermione grumbled, tidying up her desk as she cradled the phone between her shoulder and her ear. "And hanging out with Harry seems like the last thing I want to do tonight."
"Live a little!" Ginny enthused, shoving Malfoy away as he attempted to lean over her and listen to Hermione's responses. "You've got to deal with Harry at some point. You might as well have the benefit of friends around." Draco raised an eyebrow at her. "And lots of pints of ale, " amended Ginny hastily, scowling.
Hermione gave a derisive snort. "Heh, I suppose that's true enough. If you can't deal with your best mate surrounded by an honor guard of other best mates and while in an intoxicated state, you're never going to be able to deal with him. Ah, fine. I'm in."
"That's the spirit!"
"But, " Hermione mumbled, "If this goes south, I'm calling in a favor and having your editor ship you off to the middle of nowhere for a long undercover story. Got it?"
"Killjoy."
"Cheeky bitch."
"See you soon!"
As Ginny hung up, Malfoy gave her an appraising look. After a moment of discomfort, Ginny shifted awkwardly in her seat. "What?"
He shrugged. "You did well, that's all. Fairly casual."
"That surprises you, does it?"
Draco brushed aside a lock of hair from his forehead and grinned. "You're a Weasley, Gin. Subtlety doesn't really enter into your gene pool."
"Kindness doesn't enter into yours. Yet here we are."
"If I didn't know any better, I'd say that was a compliment, Weaselette."
"Good thing you do, then. Now come on back to my flat with me while we work out details, l've got to change."
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"Ron, I don't want to see her, mate. Honestly. I'm gonna marry Hannah, and that's the sodding end of it. Hermione doesn't want me," Harry shouted.
"So what then? If you really love Hannah and not Hermione, then that's as you'd want it, isn't it?" Ron twisted the phone cord between his hands impatiently.
"I do love Hermione, Ron! I do love her!" Harry's voice cracked and Ron immediately felt terrible for baiting him.
"Listen, Harry, I really think you should talk to her. She's your best mate, and you love her, and just- well, there's a million reasons, really, but if you quit talking to her, who's going to teach you awesome new spells? Merlin knows you're lazy as all bollox about research."
Harry laughed softly. "Okay, I concede that point. And you know very well that I'll talk to her when I stop feeling so hurt and angry. Maybe by the time Hannah and I are married and we've spent a few weeks away somewhere, the whole thing will just blow over and Mione and I can go back to what we used to be."
Ron smacked himself in the forehead, wishing Harry were there so that he could smack the Boy Who Lived To Be A Prat instead.
"Harry, " said Ron with a note of pained patience, "You cannot marry Hannah. And you know why? Because if you did, you'd be doing worse to her than she attempted to do to you. She was going to use you for a story; you're trying to use her as a shield against loving Hermione, or losing Hermione, or -something. And that's even worse, because you're better than that. You know better than that. So stop pretending that it's even a possibility anymore. It's not."
Harry took a deep breath and Ron heard a shivering exhale over the line. Eventually, Harry answered in a small voice, "You're right."
"I know."
"Now what do I do?"
"Tell her, Harry."
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"You could be done anytime, now, you know, " called Draco from the living room. "You've already fouled the evening up. We were supposed to talk to Hermione when she got to the pub and explain to her about our fake engagement and whatnot. Now she's already there, and Harry's on his way. There's no time for a setup, so now I'm really going to have give a fake proposal."Â
There was no reply.
"You do realize that means that Potter will likely hex me into oblivion, yes?"
"Shut it already, Malfoy," shouted Ginny from down the hall. "You're taking one for the team."
"One? One?! I've taken so many hits for this team that I'm gonna change my name to Muhammed Ali." Draco paused. "And why the hell do you just happen to have an engagement ring lying around, anyway?"
"Undercover assignment, " replied Ginny's increasingly soft voice.
There was a loud crash and muffled swearing from Ginny's bedroom. "Malfoy, come help me!"
Draco slipped off his robes and rolled up his shirtsleeves. "Why do I have a feeling this is going to involve manual labor?" he asked as he entered the room.
"Because it is, " replied Ginny from her closet floor. "Put this box back on the top shelf." An overflowing carton was sitting on top of her chest. "Ooh, and fish out that little black box first, it has the ring in it, and don't--" her command broke off as Draco entered the closet, allowing the door to slam shut behind him.
"-let that door close," Ginny finished weakly.
"Why not?"
"Um, well, you see, it sort of…locks and wards itself automatically."
Draco turned a strange shade of puce. "Who the hell puts automatic wards on their closet, Weasley?"
Ginny scrambled out from beneath the debris. "Somebody who used to have a bit of a clothes-thief for a flatmate!" she replied indignantly.
Malfoy began pounding the door with his fists and kicking that the handle with the heel of his boot, shaking the door at it's hinges, but it was simply too strong with the magical reinforcements placed upon it.
Draco flopped down on the floor with a disgusted sigh.
"It's no use, it is absolutely no bloody use!"
Ginny had the good grace to look sheepish. "I'm sorry."
"I can't believe this, I just cannot believe this, " Malfoy shook his head as the Gryffindor seated herself beside him, making the four foot space seem eve smaller.
"This is all your fault."
"MY fault? You're the one who forgot your wand."
"I wouldn't have needed the sodding thing if you hadn't let the door slam behind us!" retorted Ginny crossly. "besides, you left yours in the other room."
"Yes, well, Weasel, I'm not the one who knew the closet had wards, now am I? You should've just Accioed the ring and been done with it!"
Ginny glared at him, her face as nearly red as her hair. "I wouldn't have needed the ring if you hadn't changed the plan!"
"I wouldn't have needed to change the fucking plan if you hadn't made us late! You took forever getting dressed! Draco roared, standing up. His breathing was rapid and his shoulders were tense. Ginny hopped up to face him, heat pouring from her retaliating words.
"I wouldn't have spent so much time getting ready if you had ever just paid attention to me the way that I was, you sodding arsehole!"
Draco paused, brow furrowing, anger momentarily forgotten. "What?"
"That's right," Ginny shouted, still furious, "I've been trying to get you to notice me for months! I've tried getting all dolled up, ignoring you, flirting with you, making fun of you. I've tried everything to get you to go out with me."
Hot, angry tears were pouring down Ginny's face unashamedly. Draco pursed his lips and arched an eyebrow.
"Why didn't you just try asking?"
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Hannah's face was pale and small as Harry sat across the table from her, playing with his hands. The diner was old and dim, and they were tucked in a far corner, picking at cold French fries and uncomfortably drinking sodas.
"I figured it would come to this, once you found out the truth," she offered awkwardly. "It was sort of a miracle that you were going to go through with it anyway. I didn't deserve that."
Harry shook his head. "No, probably not. But you didn't deserve what I was going to do to you either. Marrying you, using you as an escape so that I didn't have to deal with my feelings for Hermione- that would have been cruel."
The smile on Hannah's face was genuine. "Yes, well, it's not exactly like they would have been offering me the Order of Merlin for what I was doing to you. Don't be too hard on yourself. You always are."
"I guess you did learn a thing or about me," said Harry sheepishly.
"I always liked you, Harry. That part was never a lie. And I think that I truly could have loved you, if I hadn't been after a story, if I hadn't been afraid to just be myself." Hannah paused, a thoughtful expression on her face. "If I knew who I really was."
Shaking the dazed look out of her eyes, Hannah focused on Harry once more and gingerly took his hand. "Actually, Harry, I think I'm going back to Albania for awhile to do just that- find myself. I have you to thank for that. No more lies, no more stories. Just me, figuring out my dreams."
Harry smiled, and for the first time in weeks, felt that a great weight had been lifted off of his shoulders. "I hope you find what you're really looking for, Hannah."
"I hope you find what you're looking for, too, Harry Potter."
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"Why didn't I ask?" Ginny threw her hands in the air. "Oh, gee, Malfoy, I dunno, maybe because you've been pining aft Hermione for years, just like every other stupid boy I know! To make matters worse, the only guy I hang around that doesn't fancy Hermione Granger is my own brother! It's like salt in a wound."
"Weasley?"
"What, Malfoy?"
"Grow up. If you want something, you either go after or you don't. If you don't, then stop blaming other people for not chasing it. That's all on you."
"Malfoy?"
"What, Weasley?"
"You're such a wanker."
Just then, the mobile phone in Malfoy's pocket rang.
Ginny punched him in the chest. "You git, you could've just called somebody to get us out of here! What the bloody hell is wrong with you?"
The Slytherin was already in mid-conversation. "Yes, Weasley, in Ginny's closet, it's warded, we've no wands with us, so if you could just come and--no, you prat, I'm not going to say that so that you can -- no, no, do not put me on speakerphone --no, just -- oh, fuck, fine, yes, just -- THIS IS DRACO MALFOY, AND I'M COMING OUT OF THE CLOSET! Everybody heard, yes splendid, so will you come now? Yes, fine, goodbye." He snapped the phone shut.
Malfoy gave Ginny a death glare as she smirked at him.
"Not a word, Weasley. Not a bloody word."