Tit for Tat | By : PulchritudinousPain Category: Harry Potter > Het - Male/Female > Draco/Hermione Views: 17009 -:- Recommendations : 0 -:- Currently Reading : 1 |
Disclaimer: I do not own The Harry Potter series, nor the characters from it. All characters belong to JK Rowling. I do not make any money from the writing of this story. |
Chapter 8 – Fallout and Fighting
“Hermione, you didn’t!” Ginny exclaimed loudly.
“Shh, do you want everyone in the cafe to hear you?” Hermione hushed. She had dragged Ginny out of bed that Sunday morning for brunch and to divulge the exciting turn of events.
“What the hell possessed you?”
“I had him wrong,” she explained with a shrug.
“That’s all the explanation you’re going to give me? Really? Hermione, I was prepared to blast away weeks worth of your memories on your request and then you sleep with him and expect me to just accept it?”
“Ginny, it’s complicated. He’s not like I thought. He hides in plain sight with bravado and a snarky attitude but he’s actually got some good in him.”
“It sounds like the only good he’s got he put in you,” Ginny grumbled. “You’re going back for more? Are you his girlfriend now or are you still under contract? Are you sure he’s not just using you?”
“Ginny, I don’t know. All I know is that I wanted to, I did, and it was great. I can at least be satisfied to know that he truly wanted me and he waited until I was ready.”
“So last night wasn’t the first time he tried?”
“No,” Hermione confessed. “The night after he took me to the ball he wanted to, really wanted to, but he stopped when I asked him. He let me think about it, gave me more time than I needed really, and didn’t pressure me. He just explained himself to me and then, well, kind of begged actually.”
“He begged you?”
“Yeah,” Hermione grinned, biting her lip.
“That’s pathetic, especially for Malfoy.”
“I thought it was kind of sweet, humble. He didn’t have to. I am still under that contract.”
“Fuck, Hermione. Get him to tear it up then! He can’t treat you like that and from what you say he doesn’t think of you like that. Get him to release you from it then you’ll know if he’s genuine but if he holds you to it he’s full of shit. I sure as hell am not going to trust him while he holds that over your head.”
Hermione nodded. “You’re right. If he loves me he’ll set me free.”
“Merlin’s beard, who said anything about love?” Ginny marvelled.
Hermione walked into work at the Ministry on Monday still feeling the tenderness she had been left with from her weekend with Malfoy. She walked through the office blushing, imagining that her co-workers could tell what she had done. There was no reason why they would know but rumours had been rife through the office since her appearance at the Ministry ball as Draco Malfoy’s date and she was slightly paranoid.
She sat gingerly at her desk and began to rifle through the legislation on House Elves for the proposal she was tasked with making. She was in her element working on laws she was passionate about. She knew that Tiberius McClaggen had taken the time to speak to her manager about giving her the project of her choosing. She had Malfoy to thank for taking her to the ball so that she could make that contact. Their arrangement had certainly led to more benefits than she had initially envisaged.
After a few hours of poring over the volumes of archaic laws she decided she needed some fresh air and a decent walk to ease the neck strain. She took up her bagged lunch and headed for the visitors phone box exit that would lead to the privacy of the rear of the building. As she stepped into the phone box a hand slapped the door open and Ron Weasley got in the lift beside her. He said nothing, staring directly ahead as she directed the elevator upstairs to the street level. As the doors opened she took a step forward and felt his hand grip her elbow.
“Ron, what?” she said.
“I know what you did,” he snarled. “Ginny told me.”
“She shouldn’t have said anything,” Hermione said. “I told her that in confidence.”
“You don’t deny it?”
“I have no reason to.”
“You fucked him for money, Hermione. Do you know what that makes you now? A whore.”
She shrugged his hand from her arm. “Not that it’s any of your business, Ron, but I consented. It was my choice.”
“That makes it even worse,” he hissed.
“How could my consent possibly make it worse?” she spat. “How much more debased can I be in your eyes, Ronald?”
“It hurt me when you gave yourself to him for his money, Hermione, but I thought that maybe if I stayed away while you did this thing that when it was all done maybe we could get Ginny to obliviate us both and we could pick up where we left off, but now, this bloody well kills me. You threw me over for Malfoy, knowing everything he’s done, what he is. I’m a better man than he is, Hermione, and you know it. Do you care for him more than me?”
“Ron, it’s just, different. I love you but I don’t think I want to be with you in a sexual way.”
“But you like it when he fucks you?”
“Ron don’t get angry, I’m just trying to be honest with you.”
“Fuck you, Hermione. You could have just told me you wanted it over between us when you started wanting to fuck Malfoy.”
“Ron, you’d already left me!” Her face flushed red with anger.
“Did I say I had?”
“You didn’t have to. Your actions were loud and clear,” she shouted. “You couldn’t even hang around to hear me out, you just stormed off and then didn’t speak to me for weeks! This is the first time you’ve talked to me since I told you about the contract. I was trying to save my mother’s life! Oh, and she’s fine by the way. Thanks for your concern!”
Ron stared at her, mouth agape, chastened as she raged at him.
“You are the one who let me down, but you know who was there to pick up the pieces? Against all odds it was Draco Malfoy. He made me feel special, Ron, he made me feel desirable when you made me feel worthless. He’s never called me a whore. You know what he has called me? A goddess, Ron. He looked at me bare and called me a goddess. So yes, I wanted him and he wanted me and it was good, and I don’t give a fuck what you think of me.”
She turned on her heel and ran, tears of anger streaming from her face until she couldn’t breath anymore. She stopped and leaned against the cold building until the tears subsided and her breath came back before composing herself and apparating back to work to bury herself in books.
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