Adult-FanFiction.org : Harry Potter

Unstoppable	By : Thunderbird Category: Harry Potter > Slash - Male/Male > Harry/Draco Views: 14474 -:- Recommendations : 0 -:- Currently Reading : 3
Disclaimer: I do not own Harry Potter or any affiliated characters. I make no profit from this story.

Chapter List
- 29
- 30
- 31
Another one down! Whoo, it was a long time coming I know. I have to say a huge THANK YOU to those that reviewed and let me know they were still reading and interested in this story. It may not seem like it, since it took so long for another chapter, but your words were very motivating. I'd love some more motivation if you can manage it! With summer coming I'm hoping to get a chance to work on this story more often.
This chapter went to an unexpected place for me, but once again my characters were making it clear that this had to happen. I'm glad though. It was pretty cathartic for me to write. I hope you have a similar experience reading it. Let me know! <3
Chapter 30: The Fight
(Hermione)

Hermione heard a shriek behind her and turned sharply to look. But it was only Vesper, having been attacked by a band of children that included Teddy, Victoire, and Esme as she ran barefoot about the room, calling “You’ll never catch me!” and laughing without restraint.
It looked like a fun game, and Hermione smiled to herself behind her glass of chardonnay. Only Vesper could find a way to look as silly as possible while wearing an evening gown.
She watched the band of merry chasers follow their quarry around the Malfoy ballroom for a few more minutes, then looked around to see if she could figure out where her future husband had wandered off to. She didn’t know what it was that always made her lose track of him at parties.
She didn’t spot him right away, but there was a formidable crowd before her, and her visibility was somewhat blocked. The Malfoy/Black Christmas Eve party was well-attended this year, and Hermione had to wonder if the upcoming nuptials of the Malfoy heir had something to do with it. Narcissa had managed to regain many of her social connections after the end of the war, and forge many new ones thanks to her ongoing philanthropy and her reformed ways. But Hermione suspected that a much larger percentage of people who had received an invitation this year had decided to attend, in the hopes of seeing a hint of what the ballroom might look like in a few short weeks, when decorated for the wedding.
It had been all over the papers, and it was difficult to miss. Hermione’s resentment had faded considerably as November moved into December and she could see how happy the engagement had made her friends, and how ready they were to be married. They were simply keen to rush through the preparations – something that made them very different from Ron and Hermione – and that was all right.
She circled the room, trying to find a familiar face. There were plenty that recognized her, giving her smiles and nods of their heads, and she returned the gestures politely, all the while keeping one eye out for her fiancé.
She was distracted enough that she nearly ran headlong into someone, and had to pause and move her wine glass well out of the way to avoid spilling it.
“Oh, Merlin, I’m so sorry,” she began, and suddenly found herself looking into the face of Andromeda Tonks.
“Quite all right, dear,” the older witch replied smilingly.
“I was in my head,” she said anyway, by way of explanation. “Wasn’t watching where I was going.”
“Looking for someone?” Andromeda asked.
“Ron, actually. Have you seen him?”
“A while ago, but not recently. I’ve been a bit bombarded. Everyone wanting to catch up now I’m attending public events again.”
“Right,” said Hermione. Andromeda likely would not have chosen to attend a party of this size while still not feeling her best. “I imagine it’s a bit overwhelming, getting back into the swing of it.”
“Oh, it certainly is,” Andromeda agreed. “And it’s always the same questions, you know. How am I feeling? How is treatment going? How is Teddy handling all of it?” She sighed, staring into her wine glass, and didn’t see Hermione bite her lip in guilt, realizing she had been among the people asking those very questions. “I know they mean well, but it’s different than when someone I’m close to asks. With them I can be honest. But around here…” She gestured around the room. “They’re asking to be polite; they don’t want the gritty details. I have to give them the glossed over version, and it means having the same conversation over and over again. It’s very tiring.”
Hermione nodded, feeling a little bit better. It seemed the other witch felt close enough to her to at least relay this genuine frustration.
“I find distraction is always the best method,” she replied. “It’s probably not as annoying as your situation, but I do end up having the same conversation over and over about my work, mostly with people who don’t actually care.” She felt a sudden surge of resentment at how often that was true. Very few people wanted to be invested in creature rights, and she had yet to find an effective way to persuade them to be. “Usually I find some way to get them gossiping or talking about themselves, and it eases the pressure somewhat. Or at least the monotony.”
“Ah, yes, it’s a good strategy. But then, of course, you’re stuck listening to someone drone on about their holiday in Majorca in great detail,” she said with a grin. “Though perhaps it would be worth it. Even the praise is wearing me out. If someone calls me ‘brave’ one more time…”
Hermione laughed. Andromeda was, in fact, very brave, but she could also understand why hearing it over and over would make it wear thin. In the same way Hermione tired of people commenting on her intelligence and how well she did in school. When it was all anyone seemed to know about her, when it was the only nice thing they could think of to say, the potency of the compliment was diluted considerably.
“It’s likely that they don’t know the right thing to say,” Hermione offered neutrally. “That’s just the sort of thing one is expected to say in that situation, I suppose.”
“Mm, very true,” Andromeda replied, nodding. “And in this crowd, there are plenty who are most concerned with appearing to do and say the right things.”
Hermione didn’t reply, unsure of how to. About many of the guests, Hermione was sure the other witch was right. But she could also recognize a slight tone of bitterness tainting Andromeda’s words, implying her observation was perhaps a bit skewed. Not that Hermione could blame her.
“Ah, well, it’s no matter,” Andromeda said after a short pause. “I came to the party, which has made Narcissa happy and which was the point of it in the first place. A bit of vapid socializing isn’t going to kill me.”
Hermione mustered a smile at that flimsy irony, not wanting to give away that what Andromeda had just said made her quite sad.
“Teddy was very excited you came tonight as well,” she said. “Every time I see him he tells me about some new adventure you two have been up to together.”
Hermione saw genuine happiness grace Andromeda’s dark eyes. She was glad to talk of her grandson, and the topic carried them through the ballroom as they went in a meandering search together: Hermione for Ron and Andromeda for Harry and Draco. Andromeda was feeling ready to call it a night and wanted to say a quick goodbye to the couple before she left.
“How much would you wager that they’ve snuck off together, away from prying eyes?” Andromeda said, sounding amused. “The two haven’t been able to keep their hands off each other lately. They think I haven’t noticed, but I certainly have.”
“Well, getting engaged is quite the aphrodisiac,” Hermione said, her voice low and conspiratorial.
“I remember,” Andromeda said, with some nostalgia, and the women shared a quiet, knowing laugh together.
They found Ron first, enjoying some firewhiskey with Dean and Theo in a far corner of the room. From the sound of it, Dean was regaling them with some hilarious story about his boss at the Department of Games and Sports, of which he always had plenty. When Ron looked up from his glass long enough he spotted the two women coming towards him, and his amused chuckle melted easily into a welcoming smile.
“Well hello there, love,” he said, leaning down to give Hermione a peck. “How’s the rest of the party then?”
“Getting a bit monotonous, honestly,” Hermione said. “Lucky that I ran into Andromeda, or I would have been in danger of becoming very bored.”
Ron laughed at her honesty. “You should have tracked me down sooner. Unless you think I’m just as boring as the rest?”
Hermione rolled eyes, her smile never wavering. “Don’t be ridiculous, love. I was looking for you, but as usual you’d snuck off with the liquor and the most entertaining people at the party, nowhere to be found.” She pouted, for good measure, knowing Ron wouldn’t be able to resist placing another kiss on her lips when they were in that state.
“All right, you two, that’s enough lovey dovey for one evening,” Dean said. “More than I have the stomach for, at any rate.”
Now it was Ron who rolled his eyes, turning back to his former classmate. “What about you and Parvati, then? I saw the way you were looking at her earlier.”
Dean cleared his throat and took a sip of whiskey. “It’s complicated,” he supplied, making Theo snort.
“Whatever, mate,” the Slytherin said. He checked his watch. “Speaking of lovey dovey, I best find my wife. And I’m sure my child is passed out in a corner somewhere around here. She rarely stays awake past nine o’clock.”
“I saw her running after Vesper earlier,” Hermione said. “She might be well worn out by now.”
And with that, the firewhiskey trio disbanded, Theo off to find his family and Dean off to pursue something unnamed he had spotted on the other side of the room. Hermione suspected, however, based on the flash of bright blue sari and long dark plait she caught a glimpse of, that Dean was about to make things even more complicated with Parvati.
This left Ron, who happily came in step with Hermione and Andromeda as they went in search of Harry and Draco once more.
“Perhaps the atrium,” Hermione suggested. “If they really were looking for some privacy.”
“If that’s the case, do we really want to stumble upon them? Or is it just going to be embarrassing for all of us?” Ron asked, and Hermione had to admit that he had a point.
Thankfully they were spared that harrowing decision when the couple in question appeared only a minute later, looking a bit flushed but at least still in an appropriate state of dress.
“There you two are,” said Andromeda knowingly. “I wasn’t sure I’d be able to find you.”
“We were just out in the garden, taking a peek at the gazebo now that it’s finished,” Draco answered, rather defensively. Hermione couldn’t help but notice that he was trying to tug the collar of his dress robes a bit higher around his neck. She smirked to herself.
“Just getting excited for the big day, is all,” Harry added, with the straightest face he was capable of mustering.
“Mm, that’s one way to phrase it,” Andromeda said, which made both men go even more red. Draco cleared his throat.
“Where’s Teddy? He said he was going to stay with you?”
“Oh, he did for a bit. But adult conversations are quite boring, so he ran off to play with the other children. They’ve been running around the ballroom for the last half hour. I’m surprised you didn’t see them.”
“They were too busy admiring the gazebo, I think,” Hermione said mildly, smiling into her wine as she took a small sip. Ron snorted next to her.
“Well, it is quite a nice gazebo,” Draco riposted, his expression impassive save for the small, wicked glint in his eye. “Nothing wrong with us wanting to take our time… admiring it.”
“All right,” Harry interjected, perhaps a bit loudly. “Enough of that. Let’s find Teddy, then, shall we?” He turned to Andromeda. “Are you remaining for a bit or are you off to bed?”
“Off to bed,” Andromeda said, graciously allowing for Harry’s blatant redirecting of the conversation. “Not a bad idea for the three of you, either. Teddy is a very early riser Christmas morning, I have to warn you. Best to get your rest while you can.”
The couple seemed eager to follow that advice, and hugs and kisses were exchanged all around before everyone said their goodbyes. Andromeda made for one of the upstairs guest rooms of the manor while Harry and Draco walked away hand in hand, in search of Teddy.
“I’m ready to call it a night as well if you are,” Ron said, once they were alone. “Unless of course, you also want to pop out to the garden and ‘admire the gazebo’ for a bit.”
Hermione rolled her eyes and gave her fiancé a playful slap to the stomach with the back of her hand, which only made his grin widen. “There’s plenty of ‘admiring’ we can do in our own bed, if we’re so inclined,” she said.
Ron leaned down to kiss her, still smiling. “That we can, love. That we can.”
***
Christmas morning was quiet when Hermione awoke, and she took a moment to savor it. After the music and chatter of the party the night before, and what she knew she and Ron would face when they made their way to the Burrow later in the morning, Hermione was happy to enjoy a few moments of silence
“Merry Christmas, love,” Ron said softly beside her, and she turned her head.
“Merry Christmas,” she replied, smiling at him. Her hand found his, under the covers, and she gave it a squeeze. She wasn’t sure if it was the spirit of the season or a contrast to the general, subdued melancholy she’d been feeling lately, but she found her heart swelling with gratitude for him, for his mere presence. “Waking up to you is the best thing,” she said. “The best present.”
He moved closer, a grin splitting his face. One of his large hands slid across her bare stomach. “That’s quite a line, Ms. Granger,” he teased. “Trying to get into my knickers, are you?”
She giggled. “Always, Mr. Weasley. Always.”
His hand slid lower, and with purpose, and when he found her soft and wet against his fingers, he hummed happily. Their mouths met hungrily as he continued to tease her, working her into a state until she was bucking against his hand for more.
It took begging on her part, whimpering her need into his ear, kissing every inch of his skin that she could reach, for him to finally enter her. And when he did he went slow, driving in deeply yet gently, shuddering in pleasure as she held onto him and met him with each thrust.
“Faster, Ron,” she begged again, enjoying his moan of approval and the pounding that followed it. Only a few touches from her hand had her finishing around him, squeezing him tight until his thrusts became erratic and he stilled inside her, his open mouth leaving a biting kiss on her shoulder.
“Perfect way to start the day,” Ron noted with a smile as he slipped out of her. He gave her face a few soft kisses, one on her cheek, one on her nose, before finally finding her lips again. He rolled off her, taking his usual place beside her once more.
“Absolutely,” Hermione agreed, stretching languidly against the sheets. She closed her eyes, feeling she could almost go back to sleep. Too bad they had a rather long and busy day ahead of them.
The fwump of something small but heavy landing next to her on the bed had her opening her eyes again. She craned her neck to see a Christmas package, wrapped in white paper with a cheerful red bow, resting by her hip. She sat up.
“Time for presents already?”
“Seeing as we have to be at my parents’ in an hour and we still have to shower,” Ron answered, clambering back into the bed, “yeah, I think it’s about that time. It’s tradition, after all.”
It was. Hermione and Ron had started it the same year they had moved in together, their first Christmas out of Hogwarts. They decided they wanted a chance to properly appreciate the gifts they gave to each other, and the Burrow was hardly the place for that to happen. There were too many people, too many things going on, too many presents to unwrap, for them to really take their time together. So it had become their little ritual to exchange gifts on Christmas morning, before the Burrow, before the chaos.
Hermione summoned her gift to Ron with a wave of her wand, catching it deftly as it flew towards the bed. She held it out to her fiancé.
“Why don’t you go first, love?” she said. She was excited for him to open it, though it was only an envelope.
With a curious tilt of his brow, Ron did so, peeling back the paper to reveal the single Quidditch ticket she had tucked inside.
“The Cannons,” he said, grinning as he immediately recognizing the logo stamped on the ticket. But then he read it over, and his face registered disbelief. “Is this what I think it is?”
“A top box,” she said proudly. It had taken some finagling to get her hands on it, even for a Cannons match. Luckily she had learned, back in August, that a coworker of hers knew a guy who knew a guy, and she had managed to procure a ticket. “All to yourself. It seats a dozen, so you can bring whoever you like. Harry, Theo, Dean, all of them, and more.”
“This is great, love,” Ron said, smiling like he meant it. “Really great.”
Hermione’s smile matched his. “Glad you like it.”
“How about yours, then?” Ron said, indicating the wrapped gift lying next to her.
“All right…” She picked it up, weighing it in her hand. “It’s a book, isn’t it?” she said, though she could hardly complain. She loved books.
“Maybe,” Ron said, house mouth tilting slyly in a way that told Hermione there was more to it than that. “It’s not diamonds and sapphires, I’ll tell you that. Something much more useful this time.”
Chuckling, Hermione undid the bow and tore off the paper. It was a book, in fact, though the black leather cover held no words, only an embossed silver infinity symbol directly in the center. Hermione’s brow furrowed as she stared at it in recognition. It looked exactly like the symbol on the front of Ron’s InfiniVault. She opened it, only to find that all of the pages were blank.
“It’s an InfiniBook,” Ron said. “Dennis Creevey’s latest invention. It’s a notebook, you see, that keeps track of all the notes you take and sorts them however you like. It will even keep an index for you, and let you search for entries based on dates or key words, just like the InfiniVault does.” He went on to explain many of the other features, including how individual pages could change their layout, from blank, to lined, to a grid or a list, and many others. “It neatens handwriting and has a spell correction feature as well.”
“It’s amazing,” Hermione agreed, pleased not only by the thoughtfulness of the gift but also by Ron’s excitement in giving it to her. “It’s perfect for me.”
“I thought so.”
“And I didn’t even know these existed!”
“Hot off the presses, this one,” Ron said, pride thickening his voice. “There’s a waiting list, but I reached out to Dennis and he hooked me up. He agreed with me that if this notebook was designed for anyone, it’s you.”
Hermione ran a hand over the front cover, enjoying even the tactile quality of the smooth leather binding and the thick weight of it in her palm. When she looked up, she met Ron’s eyes, which were crinkled in happiness. She leaned forward, giving him a kiss.
“This is a very good start to Christmas indeed,” she told him.
A few more sweet kisses and a squeeze of her thigh later, Ron was pulling away. “Time for a shower? It will be faster if we share.”
Liking that idea very much, Hermione put the InfiniBook away carefully in her nightstand drawer before following her naked fiancé into their en suite.
After a thorough (and rather handsy) cleaning, they were ready to face the day, ready to go get their traditional Christmas jumpers and see what hauls each of the children brought in that morning.
There were far too many Weasleys now, between the parents, the siblings, the spouses, and the grandchildren, for everyone to exchange gifts. They’d all let go of any expectations for that early on, deciding anyone within the family who wanted to exchange gifts could, at their own discretion and budget. Ron and Hermione always bought something for Harry and Draco, of course, and for Ginny. Ron usually got a little something for each of his brothers and a larger something for his parents. Molly baked and made jumpers for everyone, though Hermione had no idea how she managed to accomplish all of that each year. She suspected the Weasley matriarch had found a way to get the knitting needles to do most of the work on their own.
And then there were the children. Everyone bought things for the children, which meant they came away from each Christmas feeling quite spoiled. Nobody minded, though. There was nothing quite so wonderful or in keeping with the Christmas spirit as the joy a child showed in opening presents.
Ron and Hermione gathered and shrunk all of their gifts before Apparating together to the Burrow.
Just about everyone else had already arrived (there was a chance they’d taken a little bit of extra time in the shower, actually), and when they entered the kitchen they were greeted loudly and warmly by all present. Hermione barely managed to get out a “Happy Christmas” before she was enfolded in embrace after embrace, conveyed steadily through the crowd by each new person who wanted a turn. By the time she finally reached Molly at the stove, her face hurt from smiling.
“Happy Christmas,” she told the woman, giving her a kiss on the cheek before she was engulfed in all that maternal warmth. Molly Weasley always gave the best hugs.
“A very happy Christmas to you, my dear,” the woman replied.
“Sorry we’re a bit late,” Hermione said sheepishly. “Is there anything we can do to help?”
There was always something to be done to be ready for Christmas morning at the Burrow, but many hands made light work. While Molly, Fleur, and Harry – easily the best cooks in the family – finished cooking the Christmas brunch, Ron joined a group that was readying the large family table in the back garden and Hermione partnered with Audrey to keep the children entertained.
It wasn’t much of a job, really. Teddy and Victoire always did well entertaining each other, and Dominique simply wanted a snuggle. She was happy to curl up in Hermione’s lap for a bit while Hermione and Audrey conversed on the sofa and mooned over little baby Molly, who was ensconced in the bjorn that was wrapped around Audrey’s chest and back. Having been born only two weeks previously, the baby mostly slept against her mother’s heartbeat and gave an occasional, lazy yawn. Though even that was enough to keep the two women cooing and enraptured.
“She’s beautiful, Audrey,” Hermione said, taking the baby’s hand gently. “So small and sweet.”
“Yes, she’s just about perfect,” Audrey said proudly, kissing the top of her fuzzy little head.
They were quiet for a minute, both looking at the baby while Hermione ran a soothing hand over Dominique’s back in circles. The toddler squirmed and nuzzled, getting more comfortable, making Hermione smile.
“Have you given it a lot of thought?” Audrey asked.
Hermione had to give herself a couple of seconds to understand what she meant. “Babies?”
“Sure.”
Hermione shrugged. “Yes, some thought. Ron and I talk about it. But it’s a little ways away for us. There’s plenty to do before then.”
“Ah, well, there’s no rush. Though you might find it comes upon you faster than you expect.”
“Parenthood?”
Audrey nodded.
“In a good way, or a… not so good way?”
Audrey looked down at her daughter and stroked her small head. “In a very good way, I’d have to say. Even the more difficult things, like the middle of the night feedings, are rather nice sometimes.”
“Mm, I can understand how they could be, actually.”
“Not that I’m rushing you, of course,” Audrey said, glancing up at her with an amused smile. “It’s just that time seems to have flown by, between my first meeting Percy and now. It doesn’t seem all that long ago.”
“Yes, I know what you mean. And don’t worry. I don’t feel rushed. Having Teddy around, and Bill and Fleur having the girls, and now you and Percy… there’s not as much pressure on us younger ones to have kids just yet. Thankfully.”
“Yes, very true. Not to mention that Fleur…” Audrey trailed off, looking around at Teddy and Victoire on the other side of the room. Seeing that the children were thoroughly occupied, she turned back to Hermione, her voice now adopting a conspiratorial softness. “Fleur just found out she’s pregnant again.”
Hermione’s jaw dropped. “You’re kidding.”
Audrey shook her head. “It’s very early stages. They haven’t told many people yet, though they don’t mind if the family knows.”
“Incredible,” Hermione replied, absorbing the news. “Well that will keep Molly -“ She paused, glancing down at the baby, “-adult Molly, I mean – distracted for a little while, won’t it?” She wondered idly how often that sort of confusion was going to happen from now on, with two Mollys in the family.
“Certainly,” Audrey said, amused again. “Not to mention all the weddings, with Harry and Draco’s next month, yours in the spring, and George and Angelina next year… She has plenty to be excited about.”
“Too true.”
They didn’t get a chance to talk for much longer as an eager announcement was making its way through the house, indicating that the food was ready and that everyone should gather outside in the garden.
Hermione carried Dominique to the table – which was massive and decorated cheerfully with holly, tinsel, and colorful wizard crackers stacked between the platters of food – before handing her off to Fleur and finding her usual seat between Ron and Harry. She gave her best friend a kiss on the cheek as she sat down, since she hadn’t seen him much yet that morning, and he grinned at her.
And so the chaos of the Weasley Christmas began in earnest. Food – every kind of breakfast dish one could imagine, both English and French – was levitated around the table and plates were soon full to the brim with rashers, eggs, mushrooms, bangers, pastries, and more. Chatter was loud and overlapping from both ends of the table, and there was a rather consistent pattern of small explosions every few minutes as someone decided it was time to try their luck with a cracker.
Hermione was hesitant to try one, knowing they had been provided by George and developed at Weasley’s Wizard Wheezes. But once she looked round the table and saw that the prizes were actually rather good, she agreed to pull a harmless looking blue and silver one with Ron. A burst of red and green smoke later, she was rewarded with a lovely silk scarf for her trouble, while Ron was suddenly sporting a Santa hat with a small Christmas elf sitting on the brim, who got up and did a little jig if you poked him in the stomach.
The children were sufficiently distracted by their prizes for a little while, enough time to let the adults fully enjoy their meal, at least. But it wasn’t long before they remembered there were gifts waiting for them under the tree and they were begging their parents to hurry it along.
Gifts were opened around the tree of course, and it was a crowded endeavor as always. Molly and Arthur took their prime spots on the sofa as usual, while the children sat on the floor by the tree and everyone else grabbed a chair – if they could find one – or otherwise stood around the edge of the room, craning their necks to catch a glimpse of the gifts being opened. There was no rhyme or reason to it, no patient waiting for one person to finish before another gift was opened. It was essentially a free-for-all, packages passed all about the room until they found the right person, and people unwrapping at their own discretion. There was an ongoing, excited chatter that filled the room, only pausing occasionally as one person or another would hold out a new gift to be admired by the crowd.
The children, of course, were the best part, and Hermione managed to get a good view of the tree and was able to catch Victoire opening the new books she and Ron had given her and Dominique find her little rabbit stuffy that Ron had picked out. She also got the full show of Teddy unwrapping a new training broom from Harry and Draco, his complete surprise at receiving it, and his squeal of delight when he learned that his dads had brought their brooms along too, in case he wanted to practice right away with them in the back garden.
Hermione herself received a decent haul, a lovely deep red sweater and a box of mince pies from Molly, new earrings from Harry and Draco, her favorite wine and chocolate from Ginny, and many new books, as usual.
It wasn’t long before the sitting room floor was a mess of paper and people had abandoned their seats to make their way around the room for hugs and thanks to one another. Someone eventually vanished the mess and the crowd dispersed to various parts of the house, some to try out their new gifts right away and some to go pick at the leftovers in the kitchen or fetch another drink.
Hermione found herself in the back garden, enjoying the pervasive warming charms that had been cast over the whole area as she lounged in a reclining chair next to Ginny, sipping on a butterbeer and catching up with her. Harry, Draco, and Teddy had come out as well, brooms in hand and ready for some practice. Hermione and Ginny let their conversation ebb and flow as they simultaneously watched the boys in action, as Draco showed Teddy the proper grip for the broom and Harry helped him get comfortable hovering a few feet above the ground.
It didn’t take long for Teddy to feel ready for some proper flying, and he and Harry zipped about the garden, still not going too high, while Draco watched from the ground and gave the occasional comment.
“All right, now we can try a dive,” she heard Harry say, once they’d spent a good deal of time on the basics. “Just a small one.” He demonstrated, angling his broom down just slightly and diving forward a few feet. He remained hovering just an arm’s length above the ground, looking back up at Teddy. “What do you think? Do you want to try it?”
“I think so,” said Teddy, though he sounded reluctant. Hermione suspected he wanted to be able to do anything Harry could do, but was nervous.
“It’s all right, love,” Draco chimed in. “The broom won’t let you fall off. And Harry and I are right here.” He held out his arms, as if ready to catch him.
That seemed to be all the encouragement Teddy needed, because he got a sort of pinched, determined look on his face before he angled his broom down just as Harry had done, and pushed forward.
He dropped, letting out a sharp squeal before leveling out again and coming to a stop.
“That was great, Teddy!” Harry said.
“I did it! I did it!” Teddy cried. “Draco, did you see?”
Draco leaned over and kissed Teddy on the head, praising his bravery as Harry looked on, grinning.
“Look at him,” Ginny said, and Hermione turned her head towards her. “Look at how happy he is.”
Though the pronoun made her statement a little ambiguous, Hermione thought she could guess which “he” Ginny was referring to. She glanced at Harry again, who had taken to the air with Teddy once more and seemed to be explaining a new trick to him. Then she turned back to Ginny to find her smiling softly.
“He has everything he ever wanted,” said the redhead.
Hermione’s eyes traced Ginny’s expression for a moment, wondering if she would find any sadness there. She didn’t. “And how do you feel about that?” she asked finally.
“Glad,” Ginny answered readily. “If anyone deserves to get exactly what they always wanted, it’s Harry, don’t you think?”
Hermione did think so, and she nodded.
“I wouldn’t be as happy,” Ginny added, before Hermione could say anything.
Hermione blinked as she took that in, as she sorted through what she thought Ginny meant by that. “No?”
Ginny shook her head, a thoughtful frown on her pale, pretty face. “To be so settled already? No. I don’t think so. I think I would feel claustrophobic. I don’t really understand how all of you can be so sure whom you want to marry and have kids with now. Not that I’m not glad you and my brother are finally tying the knot,” she added, reaching out and giving Hermione’s hand a squeeze. “Or that Harry and Draco are doing the same and are ready to be parents. I just can’t imagine it for myself.”
“You talked about it more when we were younger than you do now,” Hermione observed.
“Yeah, well, I talked about it in school because Harry liked to talk about it. Because he wanted a family so badly. And, you know, at the time it all sounded really nice. After the war, when we were just relieved that we had lived through it, when simply the thought of having a safe, quiet life with someone you loved was enough… what can I say? It felt good to share that dream with Harry, just for a little while. But knowing what I know now, about how confused I was… You know, sometimes I think I fixated on all that stuff about Harry becoming an Auror because it would mean that we would put off having kids for a while. That we could be career people, busy people. There would be opportunities for us to be apart and not have it be about home life and all that. I didn’t know it at the time, but the idea of Harry and I just settling down to a nice, quiet life, without any more adventure, without… getting to go out there and make our mark… I don’t know. It frightened me, I suppose.”
“You two wanted different things, in the end,” Hermione said.
“Very much so. I couldn’t see it then, but Harry could. Thank Merlin.”
“It’s for the best,” Hermione said, sensing that it would be within bounds to say so. “Imagine how hard it would be to help raise Teddy with how much you travel. I know it’s been hard on Harry with Draco’s hospital schedule as it is. Could you imagine if he had a partner who was gone for weeks at a time?”
“It would never have worked,” Ginny agreed. “Especially since I’m pretty sure Harry and Draco want to have another baby soon.”
“You think? Even with Teddy, and Draco’s residency, and everything?”
“Well, maybe they’ll wait a couple of years. But still. I think as soon as it feels feasible, they will. I mean, look at them.” She pointed, and Hermione’s gaze followed, spotting Draco pulling Teddy off of his broom and into his arms. Teddy clung tightly to him, nuzzling in as Draco whispered something to him. “They live for this. It’s obvious.”
“Mm,” Hermione agreed vaguely. Ginny had a point, though she also felt that a person didn’t have to “live for” being a parent to want to be one, or to be good at it. Still, Harry and Draco did seem particularly family-oriented. Ginny wasn’t, and Hermione and Ron found themselves somewhere in the middle. And that was all ok, really. “To each their own,” she said.
Ginny sighed. “Yeah, I think so too.” She leaned back in the chair, lounging with her feet crossed on the small cushioned ottoman. “Don’t get me wrong. There’s nothing wrong with wanting kids. I’m sure I’ll have some eventually.”
“With Ti?” Ginny’s boyfriend Tiresias was Keeper for the Harpies, and they had been together exclusively for a couple of years by that point. Still, there was very little talk from either of them about marriage or a future together.
“I don’t know. Maybe,” Ginny said with a shrug. “In a way, that’s what’s so great about being with him. The not knowing. He wants the same things I want right now and isn’t worried about a future. There’s no… pressure, you know? He knows that pregnancy will be the end of my career, and he doesn’t want that for me unless I want it for myself.”
“A pregnancy wouldn’t be the end,” Hermione argued, aghast. “That would be totally unfair.”
Ginny shrugged again. “It might be unfair, but it’s just reality. No manager in their right mind is going to let a player play fly while she’s knocked up. Too much possibility of injury. Not to mention, our bellies get big enough and it throws off our center of gravity. Even ignoring all the risks, I wouldn’t be able to fly as well. And that matters.”
“I bet you could manage it.” Ginny was a fantastic flyer. Hermione knew almost nothing about the sport, and she still knew that.
“Maybe, but there’s no way my manager would let me try. And then there’s the fact that after the pregnancy, there will be a helpless, vulnerable little baby to take care of.”
Hermione smirked. “If I were you, I’d make Ti take paternity leave so you can get back on the pitch as soon as possible. It’s only fair, since you would have to take nine months off during the pregnancy.”
Ginny laughed. “Yeah, I can see that going over quite well.” She gave her companion a good-natured eye roll and a shake of her head. “Nah, it’s not worth it. That’s the whole point, really. I have everything I could possibly want. Why would I change things now? There’s absolutely no good reason I can’t give myself ten more years of this, ten more years of kicking serious arse on the pitch. By then I’ll be older, ready to move on and settle down. I’ll know what kind of partner I want and what kind of family I want to build. I’ll know what I want to do next, after Quidditch. And I won’t resent needing to retire, because I’ll know that I got the most I could possibly get out of my career, that I didn’t rush. What more could I ask for?”
“Sounds like you’ve got it all figured out,” Hermione said, and if there was some wistfulness in her voice, it couldn’t be helped. She was finding herself suddenly, strangely jealous of Ginny, which didn’t make any sense. Ginny’s way of life was one Hermione had no interest in for herself, and she had always simply been happy that her friend was happy. But to hear her talk about it that way, that she could see a clear future that she could look forward to, but that she was also so happy in the moment, that she had everything she could possibly want now, already… It made something inside Hermione tighten and twist. Because she was realizing that she wasn’t sure she could say the same. She wasn’t sure she’d ever even asked herself the question.
Am I happy with the way my life is now?
The simplest answer was: partially. Because there were many good things, things she wouldn’t change at all: Ron, her friends, the causes she was fighting for and still believed strongly in.
And on the other hand, there was her parents’ case and her seeming inability to help them. And that was casting a larger and larger cloud over everything else, the longer she sat with it, the longer she carried it alone.
And that, despite her very best efforts to stop it, was making her very unhappy.
As dusk descended and everyone gathered together again for pre-supper tea and conversation, Hermione ruminated on why she hadn’t been able to acknowledge this truth before, and why it sat so plainly before her now.
The only thing she could think of was that she hadn’t been present to it, hadn’t been willing to be. She’d distracted herself effectively for a long time with the future, with what came next, and next, and next. That and with fixing the mistakes she had made with her parents. But it wasn’t enough. It simply wasn’t. All the fight she’d once had was slowly leaving her, and she was left with an exhausted emptiness that felt more like resignation than anything.
She was quiet during tea and the light supper that came after. That frequent visitor, melancholy, had returned after her conversation with Ginny, after the things it had made her consider. But more than that, she found herself with a sober, unwavering realization that there was only one way to change things. Something she had been putting off for far too long.
She could feel Ron looking at her throughout the evening, as they continued to eat, drink, and socialize. She caught the deepening furrow of his brow, the frown of concern forming along his lips, and she knew he could see that something was wrong. But he didn’t ask then, and Hermione was glad.
He would know soon enough.
***
“I’m worried about you.”
It was the first thing Ron said when Hermione walked into their bedroom, fresh from her shower and bedtime preparations. It had been a long day at the Burrow and they were turning in early, which suited Hermione just fine.
She stopped at the sound of his voice, hovering at the end of the bed. Ron had put his book on his nightstand already and was staring at her with open concern.
Hermione swallowed. “I’m a bit worried about me too,” she said.
Ron brought a hand to his mouth, tapping his thumb on his lips as if considering this. Then his hand dropped to the bedspread, to the spot right beside him, and he patted it gently. “Sit with me,” he said. “Talk to me.”
Hermione sighed and nodded, climbing onto the bed. She felt heavy, a strange mix of certainty and dread weighing in her gut, and she knew the only way to feel lighter again was to finally tell the truth.
She didn’t sit next to him in the spot he had indicated, instead remaining across from him so she could watch his face. His eyes followed her as she drew closer and situated herself cross-legged only inches from him.
There was silence from both of them. Ron’s was expectant, and Hermione’s hesitant, though not because she didn’t know what she wanted to say. She just needed to take a moment, staring at the clasped hands in her lap, to gather the fortitude to say it.
“I lied,” she began. “I lied to you.”
She heard Ron let out a slow breath. “About what?”
She glanced up at him then, hoping she could read what he was thinking, what he was feeling about what she had already admitted. His mouth was a bit tight, but there was no anger in his eyes. “About what my parents were doing for the holidays. They’re not skiing.”
Ron nodded, his eyes dropping. “I wondered,” he said.
“You did?”
He shrugged minutely. “It seemed strange.”
Hermione thought that over and knew he was right. It was a strange lie. All of her lies were strange. So much of it didn’t make sense, and she knew that. She didn’t know how to explain them, but she had to keep going.
“They weren’t at Christmas because they’re… not well. They haven’t been well for a long time.” She glanced up at him again, noting the crinkling of his forehead, the slight narrowing of his eyes. “They’re in the hospital, in the Janus Thickey ward.”
Ron put a hand over both of hers, squeezing gently. He seemed very calm, and Hermione was glad for that. “Is it related to… to their memory challenges, or is it something else?”
“Their memories,” Hermione said. “But it’s an extreme case. It’s…” She could feel a lump forming in her throat, moisture gathering in her eyes, and she knew it was inevitable. “It’s unprecedented, they said. They’re doing everything they can, but they don’t really know how to fix it.” A tear spilled, and she cleared it away quickly. “There was an accident, you see, a burst of magic.” She went on to explain the events as she knew them, and it made her feel just a little calmer, as facts always did. Even the descriptions of her parents’ treatment and the small improvements they had made eased some of the shaking in her hands. It was good to remember that things had progressed some, even if some days it felt like treatment was a dead end.
Ron asked a few questions, seeking clarification on the details, and Hermione tried her best to answer them. But there was still so much she didn’t know or understand, and that, really, was the crux of the issue.
“I’ve been trying to help, you know?” she told him. “I’ve been researching, trying to learn about accidental magic and what kind could have caused this, trying to find some clue that might point in the direction of an effective treatment but… I haven’t learned anything useful.” To her dismay, the tears were back, and she couldn’t stop them from falling freely. “Nothing I’ve done has mattered at all. It was just a waste.”
“No, love,” Ron said, wiping gently at her cheeks. “I’m sure that’s not true.”
“It is true,” she said, lip quivering. “I failed them.”
“No.”
“Yes.” She looked him right in the eyes. “I’ve failed. In every way possible.”
“Hermione…”
“I failed you too.”
He didn’t say anything to that, his brow crinkling again.
“I lied to you. I lied a lot. To cover for the fact that I hadn’t told you from the beginning.”
His gaze dropped and he blinked a couple of times. “Yeah.”
“It wasn’t that I didn’t trust you. I hope you know that. It wasn’t that I didn’t think you would support me or help me.”
“Then why, Hermione?”
She knew then, with those three words, just how much she had hurt him. He was trying to hide it, probably because she was already so sad and he didn’t want to make it worse.
Which only served to make it worse, actually. Ron in pain was something she’d always had trouble bearing, and to know that she had caused it… She wasn’t sure what to do, other than try to help him understand.
“At first I just didn’t want to have to say it out loud, I suppose,” she ventured. “I… The day it happened, I had every intention of coming home and telling you. I knew I would have to tell you. And I think… I think it’s likely that if I had seen you right away, if I’d gone to you right away, I would have told it all. But I took my lunch break to meet with the Healers and find out what happened, and then I had to go back to work. I had to pretend all day that everything was fine. And then I got home and saw you… I was just so happy to see you. I was so happy to be home and I didn’t… I didn’t want to talk about it. I didn’t want to ruin that happiness.”
She paused, trying to figure out where to go from there. Because the rest was a lot more complicated.
“All right,” Ron said. “So why didn’t you tell me the next day, or the day after that?”
She took a deep breath and let it out. “I just kept putting it off. I was… buying myself time, I suppose. I kept hoping it would be miraculously fixed, and then I could deliver good news instead of bad. Which was stupid, I know. And it was just an excuse for not wanting to face what I had done. But the longer I waited, the less I felt like I could come clean.”
“Face what you had done?” Ron asked gently. “You mean, the lying?”
“Yes, that,” said Hermione. “And the fact that what happened to Mum and Dad is because of me.”
Ron seemed stunned into silence, but only for a moment. “You think this was your fault?”
“I know it was.”
“’Mione…”
“I Obliviated them. I Obliviated them so thoroughly that they thought they were completely different people. Do you know how much the mind has to be altered, what kind of modifications are required, to make that happen?”
“You were protecting them. You were saving their lives.”
“I told myself that’s what I was doing. There were other options. But I chose the one that would spare them the pain of losing me if I died. I knew what I was risking in the war, what was possible. I knew I could die and I wanted to spare them that.”
“Like I said, you were protecting them.”
“But I didn’t think about the consequences,” Hermione said. “I didn’t think about the fact that if I survived, I would have a choice to make. I would have to choose between letting them go and be happy or undoing what I had done. And I chose the more selfish thing, partially out of hubris because I believed that if I had done such a good job of modifying their memories, then of course I was capable of putting them right again. And… and I wanted my parents back. So I…” She trailed off, knowing Ron would remember what came next. He had been there.
“You did as good a job as anyone could have done under those circumstances,” Ron said. “The Healers told you that when you brought your parents back from Australia, remember? They said side effects were common and-“
“I know,” Hermione said, not wanting to cut him off but unable to hear more of this. “But if I had found some way to get them back here instead, for treatment, or if I had gone to Healers in Australia-“
“Hermione,” Ron said, interrupting her this time. “Please. Let’s not go down this road again. We talked about all of this five years ago, and we agreed then that we would move on, that we would accept-“
“How can I move on when they’re in hospital, worse off than they ever were before? How can I move on from that?”
Ron pulled away a bit, leaning back against the headboard with a sigh. “I’m not talking about abandoning them or giving up hope. Obviously we’ll still go visit them all the time, we’ll pay careful attention to the treatment plan, we’ll… keep researching.” Hermione let out a little scoff at that. The research was already exhausted. He ignored her. “We’ll do everything we can, whatever it takes. But… but blaming yourself is not a part of that. It can’t be, Hermione, or it will destroy you.”
Hermione stared at him. They were dramatic words, yet, in that moment, with how wrung out she was, how utterly spent she was, they felt true.
“You have to let go, Hermione,” Ron said. “You have to forgive yourself for the choices you made in the past, and you have to realize that this, what has happened to put your parents in the hospital, is not your fault. It was an accident that happened and that had nothing to do with you. It wasn’t your fault, and you have to stop telling yourself that it was.”
“I know,” she replied. “I know I have to. I just don’t know how.”
Ron put his hands over hers again. “That’s what I’m here for. I’ll help you.”
Hermione flinched at that, without meaning to, and Ron pulled away again.
“Unless you don’t want my help,” he said, his voice going flat. “Unless that’s what this is really about.”
“No,” Hermione said, shaking her head vehemently, reaching for him this time. He was stiff, not pulling away but not returning the touch either. “That’s not it at all.”
“We still haven’t really dealt with the fact that you kept this all from me for months,” he said. “I mean, I know you said it was because you kept putting it off so you could avoid facing the truth, but… honestly, ‘Mione, I still don’t really understand why you couldn’t tell me. I mean I’m your… We’re supposed to be getting married, Hermione. We’re going to have a life together. We already have one…”
“I know,” Hermione said. “I know.”
“I just thought that meant we share these things, at least with each other.”
“It does mean that,” Hermione said. “It means that to me too.”
“But you didn’t tell me the truth.”
“I know.”
“So… what does that mean? I’m… trying to understand.”
“I know you are. I know it doesn’t make sense. It… it barely makes sense to me, but…” She clutched at his hand, hoping he would react, hoping he would give her something to hold onto. “But you deserve for me to at least try to explain, so…”
She bowed her head, not knowing where to begin or how the words were going to sound when they came out. But she had to try.
“I’ve… been thinking a lot about when we were eleven. About when we first met, and how we didn’t even like each other. You thought I was a bossy know-it-all, which I was, and I thought you were rude and…” She trailed off, not knowing how to put it into words.
“A bit dim, perhaps?” Ron asked drily. Their eyes met for a moment, amusement flitting between them as memories resurfaced, merely fond now with the distance of time.
“Maybe a little,” she admitted. “But only because I didn’t really know you. And it didn’t take me long to figure out, once we became friends, that you were really quite brilliant, when you allowed yourself to be. You were sweet, too, so long as no one was watching, and you fought hard for those you cared about, including me. I loved all of that about you. But it frustrated me that you only let yourself be that way sometimes. Bravado was always getting in the way; you wanted to be… to be cool, you wanted people to like you. You tried to fit in with your brothers, you tried to be worthy of a friendship with one of the most famous wizards in history, even though, to Harry, you were always worthy as just you.”
“Yes,” Ron said quietly. “All of that is true.”
He likely had no idea where Hermione was going with this, and she couldn’t blame him. She pressed on. “I loved you for years before we ever got together, which you know already. I loved all the good things, I saw all the good things in you, and I accepted the faults, too. I just didn’t know where I fit into all of it until that final leg of the war, when you started making an effort, when you started to pay attention to what I needed. That choice was a turning point for you, I think. By actively pursuing me, you started to think about what kind of person, what kind of man, you wanted to be for me. And you started growing up. And then, with the final battle, with eighth year, by joining the Aurors, you just kept growing. You kept bringing out all the things that were wonderful about you and… and you worked hard on not letting your faults hold you back and… it was amazing to watch. It was so amazing to watch you become the person you always wanted to be. You became a man; you became this, incredible, kind, brilliant man, who I love, who I love so… so desperately. More than I ever thought I could love someone.” She looked at him again, and his eyes were wet. She could feel that hers were the same. Because this was the really hard part. “A man I’m not sure I really deserve.”
Ron’s whole face expressed his disbelief, his disagreement, from his furrowed brow to his confused frown, but Hermione plowed on.
“I know you’ll say I’m wrong about this, but hear me out. Because you’ve grown so much, you’ve come so far, and… I’m so proud of you. But at the same time I look back on myself, I look back at who I was, and I have to wonder…” She swallowed. “I have to wonder how much growing I’ve really done. Because I… I don’t feel like I have. From the war to where we are now I don’t… I think about that time and sometimes I think I was more sure of myself then than I am now. Like I’ve moved backwards, almost. I can’t look at myself from six years ago and say, ‘Look how far I’ve come.’ All I can think about is, ‘Look how far I still have to go.’”
“I don’t think that’s true, ‘Mione. We’ve all grown, you included. It just might not be as noticeable as it is with me, or Harry, or Draco, because you were already so much more mature and grown up to begin with. But you have.”
“It doesn’t feel like I have,” Hermione said. “All the things I don’t like about myself, all the things I thought I would get better about as I got older… I don’t see any difference. I’m still a workaholic who assumes she knows more than other people, even experts in their fields, I still aggressively assert my opinion whenever possible, I’m obsessive and can’t let things go, even when I know I have to…” She shook her head.
“Some of those things are actually quite endearing, in the right circumstances,” Ron said, smiling softly at her. She could tell he was trying to lighten the mood, but it wasn’t really working. His face went serious again. “How long have you been feeling like this?”
She shrugged, unsure how to answer that. “I don’t know. I think I’ve been a bit… adrift for a while now. I thought moving to the DTF would make it better, and in some ways it has. I thought getting engaged to you would make it better, and in some ways it has. There have been choices I’ve made that I felt gave me some direction, and because of that I found I didn’t need to think about the rest. I didn’t need to examine it too closely or worry about it. I could see the future, and I liked the future. You, me, our house, some kids eventually…” She looked at him from under her eyelashes, to see that he was nodding. “I could see myself working my way up the DTF hierarchy. I could see myself running the department someday, getting to decide what cases we take. It all seemed so good. The future looked bright. I had no reason to worry. But then…” She swallowed. “Then this accident happened, and my parents were hospitalized, and it was so… it was like a shock to my system. It was like a reminder of how capable I am of making mistakes. It was a reminder that when I do make mistakes, they’re big ones. When I fuck up, I really… I mean, I really fuck up, don’t I?”
Ron let out a small huff of a laugh, though Hermione couldn’t tell if it was in agreement or disagreement until he spoke. “That’s hardly something unique to you, ‘Mione,” he said. “If we made a list of our biggest mistakes, I imagine my list would be much longer than yours. Harry, if he were here, would argue something similar.” Hermione shook her head, and Ron pressed on. “I abandoned you and Harry during the Horcrux hunt, and all because of some stupid, imagined jealousy. I stopped being Harry’s friend out of jealousy, fourth year. I let my insecurities get in the way of us for… for years. Being mean to you, pushing you away, dating a girl I didn’t even like instead of you, the one I really wanted… And Harry… you know how haunted he was about his mistakes from the war, how much work he’s had to do to overcome that.”
“We were children then,” Hermione said. “And it was a war. It was a different time.”
“Yes, exactly. We were young, and it was a war, and you made the best decisions you could make at the time. For me and Harry, for your parents…”
“And now?” Hermione asked, her voice cracking. “What’s my excuse now, for keeping secrets, for lying? I know better. I knew better, and yet I still…” She trailed off, avoiding meeting Ron’s eyes as tears started to flow again. “I hurt you. I never want to hurt you, but I do. I’ve hurt you before, too, just because of my stupid… because I… I overthink everything and-“
Ron let out a frustrated noise, stopping Hermione short. When she looked at him, she saw he was chewing on his lip, his mouth twisted and his gaze not meeting hers. “I don’t think we’re going to get anywhere if we spend all our time talking about excuses and reasons, if what we start doing is keeping a tally of the ways we’ve hurt each other and who’s ahead and who’s behind and who’s worse or better... Our relationship was never about that, and I definitely don’t want it to be now.”
Hermione blinked rapidly, so surprised that her tears seemed to cease of their own accord. “You’re right,” she said.
“Finding out that you kept this from me did hurt me,” Ron said. “I can’t deny that. But it’s nothing compared to how much it scared me, knowing something was wrong and that you weren’t talking to me about it. So to have you finally tell me… I’m just relieved to hear everything, to have you tell me the truth and why you did the things you did. It helps me. It makes me feel a lot better than I did this morning, or last night, or the past few weeks.”
“Oh.” Hermione nodded, taking that in. “I… never thought about it in those terms.”
“You were… scared too, maybe? About how I would react?”
She nodded again, knowing he was right. He sighed.
“I just want to figure out where we go from here. What this means for us, how we can, I don’t know… move forward, I guess.”
“How to heal,” she said, taking his hand again.
He nodded, returning the gesture with a squeeze. “Yeah. How to heal.”
They sat that way for a minute or two, holding hands, considering what lay before them.
“I have a lot of work to do,” Hermione said quietly. “I know that now. I have a lot that I need to figure out, about why I’ve started to feel lost, about what it is that’s gotten me to this place. I need to think, I mean really think, about the things in my life that are making me feel this way, and what needs to change. And I need to figure out how to let go of this… thing with my parents. I need to figure out how to accept the situation, accept that I can’t fix it. Which I think is the hardest thing.”
“I know,” Ron said softly, one large hand stroking over Hermione’s cheek. “I know.”
“And I need to know how to make things right with you, what’s going to help you heal from this. I need to know what you need, so that I don’t scare you like this again. The last thing I want is for you to question my love for you or my trust in you. I never want you to have doubts about what you mean to me. You’re the greatest gift in my life, the brightest, most beautiful thing and I… I really don’t think I tell you enough. I think about it all the time, but I never say it.”
Ron’s arms were around her suddenly, scooping her up until she was cradled in his lap.
“You take such good care of me,” she murmured into his neck, hoping he could still hear her. “So much so that I sometimes worry that I let you do too much, that I don’t work on taking care of myself. And that I don’t take good enough care of you in return.”
Ron’s arms tightened around her. “’Mione,” he said. “I wouldn’t have survived this past year without you. With my injury… You fought so hard for me, with the Corps, with Robards. You did everything for me when I didn’t have magic. You fed me; you bathed me. You distracted me when I was frustrated and bored. You were there for me, even when I was in a mood and no fun to be around at all. You did so much, you gave so much of yourself, that I felt guilty about how much I was asking of you. I wish you had asked more of me. I just want to be there for you too. For everything.”
Hermione didn’t have any other choice but to cry against Ron’s collarbone, taking in the words, knowing that he was right and that still she had a hard time accepting them, that still she had so much self-doubt.
“I need you to have more faith in yourself. I need you to have more faith in us.”
“I do!” Hermione cried, lifting her head to look at him. “I do have faith in us. We’re the thing I have the most faith in.”
He cupped her jaw, tilting his head to brush his lips lightly against hers. “I believe you,” he said. “But… I need… I need to see it. I need…”
Hermione’s gaze didn’t leave him as she waited. This was what she wanted to hear: what he needed from her. Whatever it was he asked, she knew she would do it.
“You said that you need to do some serious thinking, and I get that,” Ron finally continued with a sigh. “But if you’re going to do that, I need for you to do it out loud. I need to know what’s going through your head. Even when it’s hard to say or if you’re not sure about things, I want to know. I want to know what you’re thinking.”
Hermione sat up a little straighter in Ron’s lap, so she could look at him straight on. “Essentially, you want me to communicate more. You want me to be more open.”
Ron nodded. “Essentially, yes.”
She placed a hand on his cheek, her small thumb running just under his eye and the subtle, dark bag there that hinted at the stress she had put him through. “I can do that,” she said. “I will do that.”
He tilted forward so that his forehead rested against hers. “I know you will,” he said softly. “And thank you.”
“I’m sorry,” she said again, because she felt like she needed to. “I’m so, so sorry.”
He kissed her eyelid. “I know,” he said. “I know.”
They settled into silence, Hermione, for her part, letting all the tension that had been building up over months and months release from her shoulders. It was incredible, really, the weight she had been carrying around for so long without a willingness to truly acknowledge it. Now that it was spoken aloud, now that Ron knew, she felt lighter and more open than she could remember in recent memory. The tightness in her chest had cracked open, like a book, releasing everything inside until she felt an emptiness that she could only describe as blissful.
She relaxed into Ron, her head coming to rest naturally in the crook of his neck. His arms around her were just tight enough to be comforting, and after a little while he began to move back and forth, just a bit, like he was rocking her. They stayed that way for a long time, allowing themselves to drift, to just be close.
Just as Hermione felt almost like she was drifting off, however, she felt Ron shift, heard a few aborted breaths, almost like he was readying himself to say something.
“I have something I’d like to ask, if that’s all right,” he said finally.
Hermione lifted her head again. “Anything.”
“Does anyone else know? I’m gathering not many, considering the way you described things, but I wanted to be sure. I want to make sure I don’t go spouting things to someone who doesn’t know yet.”
Hermione’s heart filled with gratitude for him, and she kissed his cheek. “The only other people who know are my parents’ Healers,” she said. Maybe she was imagining it, but she thought she felt Ron relax just as fraction, as though relieved to hear that. She had a feeling she knew where that relief was coming from. “I haven’t told anyone myself. I couldn’t bring myself to. And, of course, if I was going to tell anyone, it would be you.”
Ron kissed her forehead. “All right,” he said. “All right.”
“I don’t think I’m ready,” Hermione added, “to tell other people. I know I ought to. I know it will need to happen eventually. But you knowing is enough for me right now. I don’t want to spend a lot of time talking about it with other people. It’s so draining. And I know… I know they’ll look at me differently.”
“Hermione…” Ron began.
“Not because they would blame me,” Hermione added quickly. “But just with… you know, with pity. They’ll always be asking me how it’s going, if they’re any better, and I think it will just depress me if I keep having to report that nothing has changed.” She was thinking of Andromeda, of her conversation with the woman the night before. The same questions, over and over, with frustrating answers. The people would be well-meaning of course, but that didn’t make the prospect of having the conversation any more pleasant.
“I understand,” said Ron. “Whatever you want. We’ll tell people when you’re ready.”
Hermione breathed another sigh of relief, feeling herself relax even more. “I don’t know what I would have done without you these past months, truly. Even though you didn’t know about what was going on, you have made all the difference for me. I don’t really know how to thank you.”
“Be honest with me,” Ron said. “Trust that of all the people in your life, I’m the one who will never walk away, no matter what. That’s all I need.”
Hermione pulled herself tighter against him, not knowing how to properly convey once again the sorrow she felt at keeping things from him for so long. So she simply clutched at him, feeling him do the same, and promised, “I will. I will.”
Up Next: A development in Mila’s case almost makes Draco late to his own wedding.
HaplessParadox: Thank you!! I promise it’s not abandoned, it just takes me a long time between updates :) But knowing you’re reading and liking it gives me motivation to keep going!
myliewilde: Thanks! I’m really happy you’ve been enjoying the other works. I’ve been trying to update the ASE oneshots too, when I can. But it’s all slow-going!
Sage of Discord: Thanks! Glad you’re loving the chapter, and Vesper’s new theory :) More of that to come later!
goddess-of_dragons: AHHHH another one down finally!!! Haha sorry had to do some screaming once I reread this review from you on here. It’s been a while but it’s so nice to remember how many great plot points you brought up and how excited you were for them :) Obviously I don’t want to give anything away but I’ll say that I’ve got plans for the way the Green Adders stuff plays out, Robards included. And the Harry and Draco content is actually going to be pretty wedding and honeymoon focused for the next little while. But we’ll get back to the domestic front with them soon enough. And Mila! There’s actually a small update on her coming in the next chapter. As soon as I can get that done haha :D
It feels so good to finally be posting this and I just have to say that I have you to thank about a million times for keeping me motivated with this. I don’t know how soon you’ll see this here since you’re on AO3 now too, but know that either way I just appreciate you so much! Hope you’re doing all right and hanging in there <333
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