Title: All Nights (8/?)
Keywords: Harry, Hermione, Ron, Draco, Harry/Hermione, post-HBP.
Summary: Who is Malfoy really working for? Will Ron ever figure out what's going on between his best friends?
Rating: PG13
Word Count: 3, 879
A/N: So imagine my surprise when I checked PK Monday night to find that I was runner up in the Felix Felicis competition. Omigosh. *falls off chair*
Really - thank you, everyone. It really helped spur me on with this chapter and fic in general. Big congratulations to Lynney (who is an awesome author) for placing first and to Ahn Na Blue as well.
***
"Was it worth it?" Harry asked, lying on his back and staring at the ceiling.
"Worth it?" she echoed. "What do you mean?"
Harry sighed and turned to face her. His face was bleak. There seemed to be so much of himself he was holding back from her-things going on in his mind that he wouldn't share.
"Malfoy," Harry said. "It helps that we have him on our side, but I dunno if the price is worth it."
Hermione listened quietly, attempting to look as sympathetic as possible. Harry scrubbed his face with his hands.
"He hasn't changed at all. He's not trying to redeem himself. He's not sorry for torturing you. I can't figure him out and I don't really know what to make of it."
Hermione touched the back of his hand. "Of course you can't figure him out, Harry. You're nothing like him. Where Malfoy is selfish, you think only of others."
Harry gave her a strange look and she felt her stomach give a fluttery jump. "Hermione…"
"What is it?" she whispered.
"When Snape threatened to… well, you know…." He gave her a shy smile. "Every moment we ever spent together flashed through my mind, kind of like an old Muggle movie. I don't know where I'd be today if it wasn't for you-if I'd even be here at all."
"Me too," she said honestly.
He gave a derisive snort. "Certainly not in the middle of a wild goose chase that'll probably get you killed."
"Shhh, don't talk that way."
"I can't help it, Hermione." He brooded over that for a moment. "I feel like I'm stumbling around in the dark, falling on what I need by accident. What happens when I run out of luck? What if I lose you or Ron? I don't know what I'd do."
Hermione felt her chest tighten; she had no idea he was carrying around this much anxiety and worry. "You won't lose us."
"Snape almost killed you, right in front of me. I keep thinking about it, I keep…" he gave a strangled sort of groan. "And that's because you're my best friend, he doesn't even know how I-"
Harry sucked in a sharp breath and stopped, his lips tightening together. Hermione moved closer to him, gathering him up so he could rest his head on her shoulder.
***
Hermione, Harry, Ron, and Malfoy all sat around the kitchen table, eyes on the cup sitting in the middle of it.
"It's been a week," Malfoy said. "And we still haven't destroyed it."
"Gee, I wonder why," Ron muttered.
Malfoy cast Ron a look. "I haven't seen you come up with any helpful suggestions, Weasel."
"At least we know I'm not secretly sending messages to His Lord Evilness."
Malfoy scowled. "I haven't attempted to burn you alive yet, have I?"
Ron shifted uneasily. "That proves nothing."
"Oh, yeah?"
"Yeah," Ron snapped. He looked to Harry and Hermione for support. "He says he wants to destroy the horcrux, but for all we know, he's secretly working against us."
"Oh, that's why I tricked Professor Snape." Malfoy looked at his nails and continued in a bored tone. "I should risk my life for your lot more often."
Ron narrowed his eyes. "Watch it, Malfoy. Don't forget where you are."
Malfoy leaned back, making a show of looking around. "Looks like the house of a dark wizard to me." He sneered, his eyes drifting to Hermione. "Except for the dirty riffraff hanging around, of course."
Hermione flinched. Harry put a comforting hand on her leg, carefully hidden by the table.
"I think what Ron is trying to say," Harry said, voice carefully controlled. "Is that you are a guest-so to speak-in my house. Don't push your luck."
Harry's calm exterior was somehow more threatening than Ron's open hostility. "You don't do anything unless it serves your own interest, Malfoy. What is it you really want?"
Malfoy did not appear nettled. "In case you haven't noticed, the Dark Lord has this idea that I have a yen to be working for him. He's wrong. I may have the Dark Mark, but I'm sick of doing his bidding."
Hermione nibbled at her bottom lip. "That's all well and good, Malfoy, but here's my question. Why are you suddenly so against a Voldemort controlled world? Surely you must be after the same thing he is. Why not become a Death Eaters?"
Ron gave an emphatic nod.
Malfoy began to look irritated. "Two reasons, Granger. One, the Dark Lord isn't interested in sharing power-he's in it for himself and only himself. I am nothing to him but a means to an end-less than that." Malfoy paused. "And two, as inept as you all are, you're bound to win this war one way or another. I pick the winning team. When this is all over, I plan to reap the benefits as the Boy Who Would Not Surrender to the Dark Side." Malfoy's face twisted into a smile. "I'll be the hero of the wizarding world."
Ron looked as though he might vomit. Harry's expression didn't change, but Hermione could tell he was furious.
Hermione fought disgust-Malfoy lacked any decent qualities. He didn't care about them or winning the war, it was all a game. He saw an opportunity and went after it.
"I really, really hate him," Ron said after Malfoy left. "It makes my skin crawl to know I'm sleeping under the same roof as him."
"Agreed," Harry said.
"How do we know he's telling the truth?" Hermione asked. "Snape-"
"I know," said Harry. "But for some reason, I think he's being completely honest."
***
Dear Mum and Dad,
I hope you both are doing well. I'm fine, Harry and Ron are taking good care of me (or me of them), I promise.
I wish I could tell you what we're doing, but it's safer that you don't know. I know you're worried, but I'm surer than ever that I've made the right choice.
One day we'll sit around and have a good laugh over this. Imagine, me, Hermione Granger, leaving home and going off on some crazy mission.
I miss you both dearly.
Love,
Hermione
Hermione leaned back, setting her quill down. She received no satisfaction from the half-truths in her letter. She wondered if she'd even bother to send it.
Gimmauld Place was silent-eerie, almost. Downstairs sat Hufflepuff's golden cup, part of Voldemort's soul. She shivered, rubbing her arms.
She was having trouble sleeping. Every time she closed her eyes, her mind whispered to her all sorts of troubling images. She relived the Cruciatus curse over and over again-only it wasn't just her. Sometimes she watched as Snape tortured Ron and then Harry while she stood immobile, unable to help them.
She pressed a hand to her eyes. Her entire forehead throbbed under her hand. Exhaustion was taking its toll on her.
Shoving her letter into a corner of her desk, she pushed her chair back and left her room, rubbing her arms as goosebumps broke out. Fall had come early to England and Grimmauld Place was chilly at night.
Harry had decided to take over Sirius' old room. At first she worried the memories would be too much for him, but he assured her it was comforting and, besides, it had the most comfortable bed in the house. Instead of knocking, she slipped into his room, finding Harry sound asleep.
He was on his side, one arm under his head, his mouth open as he breathed in and out. She dropped to her knees beside the bed, studying him. Sleep made him look younger and she could almost see the boy he had once been, swimming in Dudley's clothing and looking for Platform Nine and Three Quarters.
She touched his face, letting her fingers linger on his scar. He stirred and opened his eyes, blinking rapidly. She knew he could barely see without his glasses on.
His voice was hoarse, his mind still half-asleep. "Her-Hermione?"
"Hi," she whispered.
Without saying another word, Harry moved over, giving her room to slip in next to him. Shivering, she slid under the covers, sighing as she moved into his warmth.
"What's wrong?" he said, palms sliding up and down her bare arms. "You're freezing."
"Nothing," she said. She hesitated. "Could you just… hold me? For a bit?"
Instead of answering, he pulled the covers tighter around them, drawing her into his arms. She leaned her head against his shoulder, his cheek pressed against hers. She could feel the barest hints of stubble on his face and was left wondering when he had begun shaving.
You're growing up so fast, she thought, saddened by the thought. She missed the boy who needed her help for nearly everything-from homework to winning the Triwizard Tournament. But he needs me in a completely different way now-or so I hope.
He was fast asleep against, but his arms were still around her, and she slowly felt herself growing warmer. Relaxing, she snuggled closer, content to pretend they were just a boy and a girl, falling asleep in each other's arms.
****
She awoke to a loud pounding bang. She shifted, feeling something move. Her eyes fluttered open to see Harry sitting up, his shoulders stiff and his mouth hanging open.
"Oi, Harry! You awake in there???"
Hermione gasped and Harry sent her a dirty look. He waved a hand to shush her before throwing the covers back and padding over to the door.
He opened it a crack, peering out into the hall.
"What the hell is going on, Ron?"
"It's Hermione-she's not in her room. I've checked everywhere. Malfoy claims he hasn't seen her, that lying git. You know she's always the first one to wake up."
Hermione turned over on her side, burying her head in the pillow and biting her lip to muffle a moan of frustration.
Harry's tone was clipped. "I'm sure she's around somewhere."
"Harry, I'm telling you, I've checked the entire bloody house." Ron gave a sigh of frustration. "I'm worried she… well, you know what day it is, don't you?"
"What are you on about?"
Hermione perked up, raising her head slightly. Oh, she realized. That's why he was looking for me, it's my-
"Harry, it's Hermione's eighteenth birthday. I know we've been at this for a while, but she is our best friend. You did get her something, didn't you?"
"Oh," Harry said, sounding sheepish. "Yeah, I got her something. 'Course I did." He waited a moment. "Sort of."
"Well, hurry on up then-she could be anywhere. Merlin knows how she's reacting to spending her eighteenth birthday in this place, with Malfoy of all people. I'm telling you, Harry, there's no way to predict how girls will react to these sorts of things." Ron sounded faintly awed. "Ginny threw a tantrum on her tenth birthday, all because Dad stayed late at the Ministry and couldn't make it home in time."
"I'm sure she'll be fine, Ron."
Harry tried to close the door, but Ron stuck his foot in it. Hermione sucked in a breath and pulled the covers up to her chin, allowing her eyes to poke out from under the comforter.
"Hey, Harry… can I ask you something?"
Harry shifted. "Er… sure."
"Is everything okay between you and Hermione? I mean, you two haven't had a row, have you?"
"Of course not. Why?"
"You've just… you've been acting odd lately." Ron paused and he sounded hesitant when he continued. "First, at Borgins when you didn't do anything when Malfoy was-"
"I told you," Harry snapped. "Malfoy was-"
"Putting the mental whammy on you, I know." Ron sighed. "I just… do you know what it did to me, seeing her like that? Maybe not. Maybe you can't understand."
Harry bowed his head. "It was hard for me too, Ron."
"Well, it would've been nice if you'd shown it! I can't figure you out, you know, Harry. Here we are, I'm half out of my mind that Hermione's disappeared into thin air and you don't seem to care at all."
Harry's voice was quiet. "I care."
There was a moment of silence.
"I don't reckon it's a good idea to pretend nothing effects you," Ron said.
"Ron, I'm doing this the best way I know how. Will you please let me change so I can help look for Hermione? I don't fancy walking around in my boxers all day. Especially with Malfoy in the house."
"Fine," Ron said. "Hurry up."
Harry shut the door and leaned back it in relief, his eyes immediately going to hers.
"Happy birthday," he said, giving a strained smile. "I'm sorry I forgot."
She pulled herself up, leaning back against the headboards. "That's alright. I forgot too."
"It's not alright," Harry said, eyes flickering shut for a moment. "This isn't the sort of thing I should forget. If I don't know your birthday by now, then how will I-"
"You've had loads on your mind, Harry. Really, it doesn't matter."
"It matters," he said, his voice hard. "You matter."
"Harry…"
"No, I'm serious," he said, beginning to pace. He started to dress, not seeming in the least bit put out that she was watching. "As soon as we let the mission take over our lives, that's when we start forgetting why we're doing this in the first place."
He pondered over that for a moment, his forehead creased into a thoughtful frown. "Not to mention that I-that we-that, well, you know."
He stopped suddenly, seeming surprised that he'd brought it up. Hermione unconsciously let out a breath. They'd avoided talking about it for so long…
Heart thumping, she twisted a piece of the blanket around in her hands before bravely looking into his face.
"No, Harry, I don't know." She crossed her arms over her chest. "What are we doing here?"
"We're…" he seemed at a loss. "We're… comforting each other."
"Oh," she said, blinking. "I see."
"That didn't come out right. Okay… I…" he sat down at the edge of the bed and looked at her, eyes serious. "When I'm with you, it's like the rest of the world stops mattering, you know? I know I should care about Ron, maybe I should even care about Ginny, but I don't. I feel more connected to you than I've ever felt to anyone in my life-anyone, Hermione. Do you know what this means? Do you know what kind of danger this puts you in?"
She shook her head and moved closer to him, feeling like she might laugh and cry all at once.
"I mean, here you are… and you're my best friend… and I can tell you anything. And then, at the same time, there's this whole other side of you that I'm getting to see. It's…" He rubbed his eyes. "It's confusing as hell, because I can't help but feel like I'm not supposed to have these kinds of feelings for you. But I can't stop it."
"I know. Me neither," she whispered. "Oh, Harry…"
She moved to her knees and slid her arms around his neck, feeling a shudder go through his body.
"What? What's wrong?"
He kissed her shoulder. "I can't help but feel like I should be able to stop this, or break things off, like I did with Ginny."
She froze, the reminiscence of Ginny causing her to feel an unexpected surge of jealousy. "Oh?"
"I've tried. You know I've tried. But I'm selfish, I need you too much." He gave a wry sort of chuckle. "And that's all very terrifying as well."
She smiled. "I'd never let you go, anyway."
He pulled away, looking dangerously close to tears. He kissed her once, his palm sliding along her cheek before pulling away.
"Come on," he said, grinning. "Ron thinks you've been kidnapped by dark forces. We can't keep him waiting all day."
***
"The best part was when you threatened to chop off his naughty bits and send them to Snape," Ron said, sloping firewhiskey down his front. "The look on his face-I nearly pissed my pants."
Hermione snorted loudly, while Harry blushed.
"I don't think Malfoy and I are ever going to be anything less than bitter enemies," Harry said. "But it was a good threat, wasn't it?"
Hermione tipped her glass in his direction. "Most excellent. I don't think I could have done better."
"Oi, it's your birthday, 'Mione, it's not on you to make those kinds of threats," Ron said. "S'all on us men, you know."
Hermione rolled her eyes. "Yes, Ron, you were terribly helpful as you skulked in the background and huffed."
Ron's ears turned red. "I did not-"
"It worked, at least," Harry said hurriedly, giving a small smile in Hermione's direction. "He hasn't popped his head out of his room, has he?"
"Good thing too, or he'd find us all completely tossed," Hermione muttered. "Some fight we'd put up."
Ron snickered. "I could take the wanker on."
"I'm certain you could," Hermione said dryly. "If you could stop seeing double of him, that is."
Ron snorted and topped off her glass. Hermione let him, too drunk to be disapproving.
"If Mum were here, she'd have made you a cake, 'Mione," Ron said, looking crestfallen. "Sorry 'bout that."
"I don't much like cake, anyway," Hermione said. "And stop calling me 'Mione."
Harry pulled a face. "Honestly, Ron, it's a terrible nickname."
Ron frowned. "Your name's too long to say when you're right pissed, Herm."
Hermione let out a sigh. "I suppose so."
"Can you imagine us doing this back at Hogwarts?" Ron said, happily pouring more whiskey for Harry. "The look on McGonagall's face-it'd almost be worth it."
"It'd certainly-not-be!" Hermione said, annoyed at how difficult it was to say a simple sentence. "As a prefect, Ron, you should set a better example!"
Ron and Harry both burst into laughter.
"S'no way I'd be prefect again this year," Ron said. "It'd be our seventh, 'member? Too bad you lost your shot at being Head Girl."
"That was no guarantee," Hermione said sternly. "And who knows? You might have been Head Boy."
Ron and Harry laughed harder.
"Shut it, the pair of you," Hermione said. "That's not funny. Being Head Boy is a serious matter!"
"'A serious matter!'" Ron echoed. He thumped Harry on the back. "You might have gotten it, you know, mate."
Harry chocked on his firewhiskey. "What? Me?"
Hermione gave Ron an appraising look. "He's right, you know. I bet Dumbledore would have picked you."
"No… that's…" Harry thought hard. "That's… bullocks, that is!"
Ron and Hermione laughed.
"Oh, please, with that famous Boy Wonder act you've got going on, you were probably a prime candidate." Ron took a long swig. "Besides, who else could it have been, eh?"
"Perhaps Ernie Macmillan," Hermione said thoughtfully. "He's rather smart, you know, and very responsible."
Ron gave her a look of disgust.
"Ernie Macmillan," Ron said. "Pompous git. Always reminded me a bit of Percy."
"I liked him," Harry said. "Joined the D.A. didn't he?"
"Anyway, it doesn't matter," Hermione said briskly. "We're not at Hogwarts. No point pretending we are."
The smiles slipped from their faces as the dark reality set in, but she couldn't help but feel touched that Harry and Ron had tried so hard to make her birthday fun for her. She knew that part of it had been Harry's way of distracting Ron from dwelling on her whereabouts from earlier, but threatening Malfoy to stay away had been genuine.
Harry gave an exaggerated yawn, shooting her a significant look. "I'm knackered," he said.
"Can't hold your liquor," Ron said. "Too bad you don't have a Weasley constitution."
"Yeah, too bad," Harry said. He downed his glass and stood up. "I'll see you two in the morning."
He paused to kiss her on the cheek. "Happy birthday, Hermione."
"Thanks," she said. He let his hand linger on her shoulder before leaving.
After Harry left, Ron began fiddling around, his knees bouncing up and down. Hermione half-watched him, mind busily trying to think of a way she could slip away without arousing Ron's suspicions.
"I… er… I have something for you."
Hermione's head snapped up. "What?"
Ron blushed. "For your birthday. I… hang on…"
He ducked under the table and Hermione heard him rifling through his pockets. Finally he emerged, sliding a small box towards her.
Hermione stared at the gift, feeling heat come into her face. "Ron, you didn't…"
He waved a hand. "Nah. S'Okay. Gin helped me pick it out… I… I bought it a while ago."
Hands trembling, Hermione undid the wrapping paper, breath catching in her throat when she laid eyes on a pair of golden earrings lying side by side. They were simple but elegant and she touched them gently, feeling a lump rise in her throat.
"They're beautiful. How did you-"
"Afford it?" Ron said, raising his eyebrows. "Harry-told him I'd pay him back. He didn't know what the money was for, of course. Nearly went to the twins, but I thought I'd never hear the end of it."
"That's probably true," she said. She picked one of the earrings up, its golden surface reminding her of Hufflepuff's cup. "Ron… I can't.…"
"Yes, you can. Look, I…" he took a deep breath. "I'm sorry for how things turned out, Hermione. But I know you cared for me once, even if you've moved on."
She opened her mouth to speak but he stopped her.
"No, I have too, don't worry." He sighed. "I know things never would have worked in the look run, okay? You'd have driven me mental."
"We don't know that," Hermione whispered. "Oh, Ron, I wish…"
"I know," he said. "Me too."
They looked at each other, their history piling up between them, until it seemed like she could reach out and touch it.
"Seems like such a letdown, doesn't it?" she said. "All this buildup… for something that never happened."
"Yeah," Ron said, staring down at the table. "Do you think… if it hadn't been for Lavender…."
"I don't know, Ron," she said. "I don't know. But I think it's clear that all we ever really did was make each other unhappy. It was awful seeing you with Lavender."
"I'm sorry."
"That's alright."
They sat in silence for a few moments, their drinks untouched.
Ron took a deep breath and looked up at her. "Do you fancy Harry?"
Hermione stiffened. "What?"
"Right," Ron said, studying her. "That's what I thought."
"No…. I… why would you-"
"I've always suspected," he said, shrugging. "I mean, it's Harry, isn't it? He's… how did you put it… 'never been more fanciable?'"
"Ron, don't-"
"I know," he waved a hand. "Forget it. It's okay. I mean, it doesn't bother me."
"Really?"
Ron made a face. "Okay, it bothers me a little. But, Hermione… you know he's still hung up on Ginny, don't you?"
She bit her lip and tried to smile. "When it comes to love, that kind of stuff never seems to matter, does it?"
***