The Beauty of the Rain

Chapter 14 - - The Beauty of the Rain

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She says you've known her deepest fears. 'Cause she's shown you a box of stained-glass tears. It can't be all The truth about the rain

~ Dar Williams, "The Beauty of the Rain"

- - -

Draco didn't feel any better about the situation in the morning. He forced himself through his routine, and by eight-thirty, he was in his home office with a cup of coffee, ready to start working. He had spent a great deal of time the day before with Hermione, and every moment that he wasn't working, he felt he was losing money.

The time with her always seemed worth it though, and not just because they were working together to identify the blackmailer and put an end to the unpleasant business. She was a breath of fresh air in his stale world.

Nevertheless, he had a lot of catching up to do.

At half-past two, he hadn't moved from his chair. He was bent over the latest proposal, trying to find any shortcuts he could take that would save him money but not reduce quality.

A sharp rap on the door made him jump.

Scowling, he went to answer it. His expression didn't change when he saw who had disturbed him. "What do you want, Pansy?" For some reason, perhaps on a command given by Narcissa, the house-elves let Pansy in without announcing her. He made a note to rectify this.

She raised an eyebrow. No matter how cross he was with her, she never let it faze her.

"Three things. First, your house-elf tells me you haven't eaten all day. So a meal is in order. Two, I want you to take a walk with me outside. It's a beautiful autumn day, and you're cooped up in this dreary study of yours. Three ... there's something I think you should see."

Draco rolled his eyes but knew that he would get no peace until he complied. He grabbed a light cloak, and together they walked to the back of the house and into the garden. Draco felt his tense muscles relax. The wind was cool and crisp and smelled like fallen leaves.

They walked around the entire garden in silence before Draco felt ready to talk. "You're right. I needed a break."

Pansy linked her arm through his and smiled. "Good. Chippy will have a meal ready for you when we return. I can't stay, but you must eat, Draco."

"What did you want me to see?" he asked.

Pansy's expression was apprehensive. "Let's sit." She pulled him to a bench, removed something from inside her robes, and handed it to him. "Just remember, don't hex the messenger."

Draco frowned and accepted the item, unrolling it to reveal the latest issue of Witch Weekly. The entire front cover was a picture of Hermione and Charlie Weasley at a formal occasion, sitting together and smiling. The headline read, "What's this? A new man for Miss Granger? details on pages 5-13."

Pansy looked positively ready to leap out of her skin from holding her tongue.

Draco kept his expression impassive as he opened the rag. Inside were more pictures of them in various poses and a lengthy article.

Finally, Pansy could keep quiet no longer. "Did you know? Are you two split? Remember what I said, I will severely maim her if she hurt you."

"No," he said slowly, staring at Hermione's smiling face. "We're not split." Draco closed the magazine, worried that he would betray his emotions if he looked at it any longer. "She told me she was going." It wasn't entirely a lie; she had told him something had come up. However, she had left out any and all details about that something, and he was starting to wish he'd asked a question or two.

Pansy's jaw dropped. "You knew?"

"She's a grown woman, Pansy. We've only been dating a few weeks, and she has a life outside of me." From the pictures, it looked like she had a relationship apart from him as well.

She snatched the magazine and hastily flipped to one of the pages. "Look at this picture. Look at her expression. Does she ever look at you that way?"

Draco had no choice but to examine the photo Pansy had thrust in his face. Hermione appeared ... blissful. There was no other word for it. Completely happy. Though he had seen some marvelous smiles on her pretty face, none of them quite approached the one she was giving Charlie.

"Nothing to say?" Pansy said with a smirk. "I can't believe you let her go anywhere with him! According to this article, they were quite the item a few years ago. Looks to me like nothing's really changed."

That hurt, more than he cared to acknowledge. Now he wanted Pansy to leave, and quickly, before his control cracked. "I'm hardly in a position to forbid Hermione from doing anything. It's Granger, Pansy. She'd listen to my demands just as much as she would torture a house-elf. Besides, I trust her."

"You trust her? How can you say that?! She went out with another man while dating you!" she exclaimed, waving the magazine in his face once more.

Draco grabbed it and tucked it into a pocket. "Yes, I trust her. If you'll recall, she has been friends with the Weasley family for most of her life. I'm sure there's a perfectly good, rational explanation for what's printed in that glorified gossip column."

Pansy patted his arm and gave him a sympathetic look. "Draco, I know what it's like to care for someone more than he cares for me. You deserve better than that. I just don't want to see you hurt."

He scowled and started walking back toward the Manor, uttering a terrific lie. "Don't worry about me; I assure you my feelings for her are in check. I like her no more or less than I should. And now that you've accomplished two of your aims, I must see to the third."

She caught up with him quickly. "I hope you're not upset with me, Draco. I thought it would be best for you to hear about this now, from me, rather than someone at work or from a stranger on the street."

He sighed and slowed his pace so she wouldn't have to run to keep up. "Yes, thank you. You're right. But I assure you, I have nothing to worry about. I appreciate your concern, you're a good friend."

Pansy wasn't buying it, but he wasn't about to tell her the truth. He was almost shaking now from holding in his anger, and he wanted her long gone before it exploded.

"Just remember. She's mine if she hurts you," Pansy said, fastening her cloak around her neck.

He tried to force a carefree smile. "That's won't be necessary."

She kissed his cheek and left him standing in the garden, a few feet from where he had taken tea with Hermione the day before.

He stared at the white iron table and sank into a chair. Was it possible only twenty-four hours had passed? So much had happened in that time. The day before, Draco hadn't wanted their time together to end. That's why he didn't talk about their work over tea or dinner, why he had offered to cook instead of having Chippy bring them something. Everything in his life seemed brighter when Hermione was around, and he greedily wanted her there more and more.

In the last day, he had realized he wanted something with Hermione just moments after losing that chance altogether. Then he had learned that she once had a relationship with Charlie Weasley and that she'd gone with him to some kind of awards dinner.

Draco was mad at himself for allowing feelings to develop for her and then for realizing them too late. He'd known something was happening when he had to fight a smile every time he thought about her and when his heart raced at the sight of her. It had just been so much easier to ignore it, to push it away, than to think about it.

However, he couldn't ignore his growing anger and knew it was rooted in jealousy. It was hardly rational, especially when he was just as guilty of having a bit on the side, but knowing didn't ease his discomfort.

Well-versed in feeling sorry for himself, Draco forced himself to get up. He had a to-do list that wasn't getting any shorter, and the more time he spent wallowing, the later he'd be awake. Besides, he was a fool to try to reason with his heart, to want to find a logical explanation for how he felt.

ooo

Hermione was exhausted by the time lunch ended on Monday. She had spent the day before in her room, forcing herself to catch up on the reading she'd been putting off. She recited Arithmantic tables in order to keep her thoughts from straying and running wild.

She hadn't been able to sleep easy the last two nights, either, so she had taken a Sleeping Potion. It was a last resort, and the things never agreed with her. They left her groggy the next day until she could catch a nap, and Mondays were full, non-stop classes all morning.

One hour remained before her last class of the day...her seventh-years...and she practically ran to her rooms in anticipation of getting some sleep.

Hermione felt much better when she took her desk ten minutes before the bell was set to ring announcing the beginning of the period.

She looked up when Samaya entered and frowned at the girl's expression. "Afternoon, Samaya. Did you have a good weekend?"

The girl looked contemplatively at Hermione. "It was fine. So, Professor, speaking of weekends .... Are you cheating on my father's cousin's brother's great nephew?"

Hermione knew she could only be referring to Draco. "Of course not," she said. "Why on earth would you ask such a thing?"

"Oh, just this."

As was her wont, Samaya placed a copy of Witch Weekly on the desk. Hermione's eyes widened as she stared at the picture on the cover. Then she read the headline.

"What?" she cried, grabbing the magazine and turning to page five. She was horrified to discover pages and pages of pictures, but the worst thing was the article, written by Rita Skeeter.

"He did no such thing!" Hermione exclaimed.

"What, the hair bit?" Samaya asked. She had moved behind Hermione to read over her shoulder.

"Yes, the hair bit," Hermione answered, annoyed.

Hermione shut her eyes, trying to keep her breathing even. She was so angry at Rita that she contemplated going right then to her house and hexing her into oblivion.

Hermione had tears in her eyes when she finished. Draco! What if he had seen this? What did he think had happened...what did he think of her? Merlin, she hadn't even considered that someone would twist that evening so vilely! Leave it to Rita, she thought bitterly. If there hadn't been some truth to the article, even in undertones, she wouldn't feel so ashamed.

All those pictures! She had thought they were merely interested in her, but then when Charlie had been announced the recipient of the award, it made sense why so many people were snapping pictures of them...they wanted him. Well, except for Rita, anyway.

"Are you all right?" Samaya asked.

"I'm fine," Hermione said, her voice calm but strained. She had to see Draco, she had to explain. As soon as possible, she would go to the Manor and wait for him to return home. He couldn't be allowed to think that she was in love with Charlie! She wasn't! Finally, after so many years of holding on to memories, she wasn't in love with Charlie. She needed Draco to know that, to believe her. She needed someone to hear the words

By that time, all the seats were taken and Hermione had to start class. Every word she spoke felt like ash in her mouth, every smile felt forced, and she glanced at the clock more times than she could count.

When the double period finally ended, Hermione was about to grab her things, run to her room and Floo to Draco's closet, when Sheetal stopped her.

"I was hoping to have a word with you, Professor," she said shyly.

Hermione's mind screamed at her to go, to leave, to get to Draco's, even though he wouldn't be there for a few hours, at the earliest.

"Of course, Sheetal," Hermione said, using her wand to shut and lock the door. "What's on your mind?"

"It's ... well, it's Evan, actually."

Hermione blinked. She had been so preoccupied with her own life that she'd forgotten that the Hogsmeade trip was this weekend, and the last she had heard, Evan was going to ask Sheetal to go with him.

"Evan?" she repeated, settling into her chair. "Is there something wrong?"

"Oh, no," Sheetal assured her, shaking her head. "Nothing's wrong. Our project is going very well."

"I see." Hermione had learned that sometimes it was best not to ask too many questions and to let her students struggle through the answers.

Sheetal fidgeted with a corner of parchment sticking out of her book. "He ... he asked me to go with him to Hogsmeade this weekend."

Hermione feigned surprised. "He did? That's .... Wow."

Sheetal nodded vigorously. "I know. I was shocked." She paused, pink creeping onto her cheeks. "I don't really know what to say."

"You haven't given him an answer yet?" Hermione asked, her heart panging for Evan.

"No, I told him I would think about it."

"And what have you thought?" Hermione was rather anxious to hear if Sheetal was interested in Evan.

The Slytherin girl sighed. "The thing is ... I do like him. He's funny and smart, and very fanciable. All the girls fawn over him." She frowned, shaking her head. "It's just so much pressure. We would be the first inter-house couple that spanned our two houses, and even though I know it's okay, I also know there are those in my house who wouldn't be happy with it."

Hermione scoffed. "You should never let someone else dictate your actions. That gives them too much power! It's just the kind of thing that leads to prejudice, and then before you know it, we've got another Dark Lord trying to take over the world. If you like Evan, and you want to spend more time with him, then you should."

"What would you have done, if our situations were reversed?" Sheetal asked. "If someone from Slytherin had asked you out in school."

"That never would have happened," she replied. "I'm Muggle-born."

"Can't you imagine it, even for a moment?" Sheetal pressed. "Out of the blue, you're asked to Hogsmeade by a Slytherin bloke."

Hermione snorted. "I would have thought he was up to no good and hexed him." Sheetel looked frustrated. "I'm sorry, I'm not helping."

"What about Draco Malfoy? What if he had shown genuine interest in you during school? Would you have gone out with him?"

An image of Draco in their sixth year flashed in Hermione's mind. He was sneering, looking down his pale, pointy nose at her with revulsion in his eyes. Then the image changed into an older Draco, his lips curved up in a smile, his eyes intense as they bored into hers.

All that was now required was to imagine that during school, Draco had acted toward her the way he did now, when they were pretending. There was no question.

"If Draco had treated me then the way he does now, absolutely, I would have gone out with him," Hermione said firmly.

"Really?" Sheetal's eyes widened. "Just like that? What about you friends, your houses?"

"I'm a very ... contrary woman, Sheetal. I wasn't raised with wizarding prejudices, so they never took hold. I disliked Draco and his friends because they were arrogant, nasty prats, not because of their house and blood. But if I wanted something badly enough, if I knew that it was right for me, then nothing anyone could have said or done would have kept me from it." She shrugged. "That's just who I am."

"What if the other Slytherins treated you badly?" Sheetal asked.

"I would like to think Draco would have intervened on my behalf." Sheetal started to speak, and Hermione anticipated her question. "As for my friends, they would have been angry, furious even, but they would have seen, as I do...did!...I don't know, this is all confusing!"

Together they laughed before Hermione continued. "They would have seen how happy I was, that he treated me the way I deserved, and they would have accepted it. Eventually."

"I don't think I'm as brave as you are, Professor," Sheetal admitted. "But I also know that if any of my housemates give me trouble, you'll give it back to them, ten-fold."

Hermione smiled. "That's correct. So you're going to say yes?"

"I ... I think so. I want to."

"Then say yes. You'll be out of here soon, and you'll realize how silly the house divisions are. When you meet someone, your first question won't be, 'Which house were you in?'" Hermione gave Sheetal's hand a reassuring pat.

"You're right," the student said. "It's just one date, anyway. Who knows what will happen?"

"Exactly," said Hermione.

"Thank you, Professor," Sheetal said.

"You're very welcome," she replied.

When Sheetal had gone, Hermione was no longer in a frantic rush to get to Draco's. She went to her room, had a cup of tea, and at quarter to five, Floo'd to his room.

Not surprisingly, he wasn't there. She felt marginally better and worse being in his home, though, and tried to settle her nerves enough to go over their plan for the next day.

She couldn't concentrate. Waiting for Draco to come home was difficult; she started imagining their conversations, what he would say, how she might react.

It took over an hour and three cups of tea generously provided by Chippy before she could force herself to focus on something other than what she would say to Draco when she saw him.

She managed to finish going over their notes about the money drop and then found a book on the shelf and lay on the sofa to read. Before she knew it, her stomach was growling, and she looked up to find that the sun had set. Hermione called for Chippy and requested something to eat, and the elf happily obliged.

Hermione ate worriedly. Where was Draco? Why wasn't he home yet? What if he was so angry at her that he had ... what? Why would he be angry in the first place? They weren't even really dating!

ooo

Draco returned to the Manor at half-past ten. After his usual workday ended, he had spent time going over the books and preparing his deposit for the next day. When that had been completed, he'd simply not wanted to go home. He was beginning to associate Hermione with the Manor, and he couldn't think about her without feeling a strange mixture of emotions.

His initial anger had dissipated somewhat after having time to think about everything that had happened. It was hardly fair for him to be upset that Hermione had gone somewhere with Charlie while he was regularly seeing Carrie. The thought that Hermione might be seeing Weasley still managed to make his blood boil, and he told himself it was only because she had said in the beginning that she wasn't dating anyone.

He slowly walked toward his room, his steps heavy. He wasn't sure what he would do or say when he saw Hermione again, but he did want to talk to her. What she had done, though probably unintentionally, had jeopardized their work and what they were planning to do. She needed to understand this.

More than anything, though, he felt strangely compelled to explain about Carrie. He didn't know what he would say, but he needed to know that she didn't think he was pathetic, disgusting, or loathsome.

When he reached his bedroom, Draco was surprised to see a lamp on in the closet-room. He didn't turn on the lights but instead pulled his wand and crept toward the opening between the rooms.

He sucked in a breath at the sight of Hermione, fast asleep on his sofa with a book open across her chest and her hair splayed out over a pillow. His heart ached; Merlin, she was beautiful.

After sheathing his wand, Draco poured himself a glass of bourbon and took the chair by her feet. He watched the slight rise and fall of her body that accompanied her breathing for a few long moments.

"Hermione," he called gently.

She stirred, her eyes opening gradually. She seemed confused for a moment as she took in her surroundings, and then her gaze fell on him. Hermione sat up straight, and the book fell to the floor with a thud.

"Draco!" She quickly grabbed the book and smoothed the pages that had gotten bent. "I-I'm sorry I didn't write or anything, and I shouldn't have just fallen asleep like this."

"It's quite all right," he said, unable to meet her eyes. "I'm glad you're here, actually," he replied hesitantly, stealing a glance at her from beneath his fringe. Might as well get it over with. "There's something I want to discuss with you."

Here it comes, she thought. The pictures in Witch Weekly ... surely he had seen them, had read the accompanying article! "All right," she said, resigned to the unpleasant but necessary conversation.

He stood and started pacing, a deep frown on his face. "It's about what happened Saturday night."

That took Hermione completely off guard; she'd gone out with Charlie on Friday night. "Saturday?" she repeated.

"It is my understanding that as you were leaving my house, headed toward the Traveling Room, you ... met someone."

Oh! Hermione's cheeks reddened and she directed her gaze into her lap. The woman who had thought Hermione was sleeping with Draco on Friday nights, who had been dressed in revealing lingerie, who hadn't bothered to cover herself when she'd met someone unfamiliar. Though she had considered bringing up the audacious woman, it was the last thing Hermione had expected Draco to mention.

"I would like to explain," Draco said stiffly.

"No!" Hermione cried, eyes wide. She'd endured more than enough mental images over the last few days, and she didn't need more information that would only help her imagination elaborate.

He looked at her, his expression torn and confused.

"I mean," Hermione said, gesturing tensely with her hands. "What's there to explain? I understand perfectly."

This wasn't going how he had expected it to. He had expected her to be upset. "But..."

Usually when Hermione was anxious, she didn't talk much. But when she was very, very nervous, she tended to ramble. "I get it, Draco. She ... she ... well, you know. It's perfectly understandable, you're a man, and you ... well. What you do with your private time is none of my business. It's not as if you're the only one, anyway, I..."

"You what?" he asked, his eyes narrowed and his tone harsher than he had intended.

Her eyes darted to his, and she realized what she had said. "I ... nothing."

Draco had been blessed and cursed with a vivid imagination. He credited it as being partly responsible for his failure to be an adequate Death Eater, for he could imagine the pain and suffering he would cause all too well. Apparently, he was also extremely sensitive...something he had always seen as a weakness...because he couldn't bring himself to be the cause of such pain and suffering.

His imagination was now running rampant, conjuring up the images of Hermione and Charlie Weasley in Witch Weekly and taking them a few steps further. The looks they'd exchanged, the innocent touches ... it all pointed in one direction. She had been about to confess something, and what else could it be?

"This is about Friday night, isn't it?" he asked, his voice calm, though tinged with the anger that bubbled just beneath the surface.

"You've seen it, then?" she asked, her voice a whisper. "The magazine?"

Draco's anger from the day before inexplicably resurfaced. As he glared at Hermione, trying to formulate the most hurtful, spiteful response he could, it struck him to consider why he was so angry at that moment. He wasn't actually dating her, yet his reaction could only be described as jealousy, rearing its ugly head once again. The thought of her being with another man made his blood boil.

"Yes," he snapped.

Hermione felt terrible for a moment, feeling the deep sting of regret at having betrayed someone she cared about. But then, after considering their entire conversation, anger coursed through her veins.

"Oh, so it's all right for you, but not me?" she countered.

Draco's eyes widened in shock at her rebuttal and the fact that she wasn't denying his worst imaginings. Pushed into a corner, he had no choice but to fight back any way he could. "The two are entirely different," he snarled. "What I do in the privacy of my own home will never reach beyond the walls of my house! You were plastered over nine pages of that bloody rag, making ... googly eyes to another man, when you are supposed to be with me!"

"Charlie is my friend!" she shouted, leaping off the sofa. "He needed a date for something and he asked me! I had no idea it was an awards banquet in honor of him and that there would be so many reporters there. That's why I was there, you enormous git!"

They were ... friends? And yet, she hadn't denied sleeping with him? Draco's pedestalic image of Hermione imploded. Perhaps it had been foolish of him to assume the things about her he had assumed...that she wouldn't approve of what he did with Carrie, that she would never do such a thing herself ... that she was anything other than perfectly human, just like he was.

The realization required extensive thought, but he wasn't at such a liberty at that moment.

"You are with me," he said through gritted teeth.

Hermione's heart skipped a beat at Draco's statement, despite how livid they were, despite being in the midst of a tremendous argument. It almost sounded like real anger and jealousy, as though he was this upset at the knowledge that she had gone out with another man.

"Did you read the article?" he continued, retrieving the now-worn magazine from his robes and waving it around. "Read what they wrote about you? About us? What you did put into jeopardy everything I have been trying to accomplish."

Of course. How foolish of her to have thought he truly cared about her...again. When would she learn? "No," she argued, crossing the room and snatching the rag, then poking him forcefully in the chest with it. "All the article did was speculate. A lot."

"Exactly," he said. "Our relationship has been called into question, and that greatly displeases me. The idea of us dating, by the way, was only for your protection. I'm certainly not getting anything out of it. But if you want to ruin it by sleeping with every friend in need, then who am I to stop you?"

Hermione didn't think, didn't consider what she was doing or the repercussions of her actions. All she saw was red. Before she could stop herself, she slapped him. Hard. His face jerked to one side and the sound of her palm hitting his cheek seemed to reverberate around the room and against the walls of her skull.

When she finally did stop to think, she didn't completely regret her actions. "You complete and utter wanker! I didn't sleep with Charlie!"

Draco slowly turned his head back to look at her, refusing to give in to the desire to touch his throbbing cheek. Her eyes were flashing and her chest was heaving; she was livid.

"You said..." he started quietly.

"I know what I said," she snapped. "I didn't sleep with him Friday night." Then she remembered how very close she had come to doing just that, and a fresh wave of guilt washed over her. "Oh, Draco, I'm sorry I hit you."

He backed away, glaring menacingly at her.

"It's complicated," she offered, her anger disappearing at the thought of trying to explain her relationship with Charlie to him but knowing she would try.

"You told me you weren't dating anyone," he said, anger once again lacing his words. "When all of this started, when I came to you in McGonagall's office. I had a very good reason for asking that question."

"I wasn't," she assured him, stepping closer by half a step but stopping when he echoed her movement, moving away.

Images flashed into Draco's mind of the first game of Quidditch he had attended with the Weasleys. Hermione and Charlie had been nearly inseparable, speaking closely, familiarly, touching each other the way secret lovers might do when they thought no one was watching.

He had been inexplicably annoyed by it at the time, and now his imagination had facts to add to his thoughts. Charlie Weasley had been with her. Draco couldn't deny that once again, jealousy was the root of his anger. He wanted to ignore the pain, as well, but too much had hit him all at once. She and the older Weasley had been together ... but when? For how long? Why did they end things, if they so obviously still wanted each other?

Pansy had been right...the pictures in the magazine were quite telling.

"And now?" he demanded.

"It's complicated," she repeated, her voice barely a whisper.

"It's none of my business," he said coldly. "Decide now what you want. You gave your word to help me, which you will fulfill. But we can end this sham of a relationship so that you can be with your Weasley again if you wish."

Tears filled her eyes before she turned away, and for an instant, Draco felt bad. But it didn't last. It made him sick to think that she had been pursuing another while being in a public relationship with him. It reminded him too much of the blackmail material and the relationship his parents must have once had in order for it to be created. He hated the very idea of infidelity, and he no longer cared that it was all a farce; it still stung as though their relationship was real. Reluctantly, he admitted that it was because he was falling for her and he had wanted it to be real, welcomed it, before ....

"It's not so simple," she said.

"Yeah, you've mentioned that," he bit out, moving across the room to put distance between them.

Hermione took a deep breath, ready to tell Draco the whole truth, ready to accept his anger, even though it didn't make any sense. "Charlie and I were together for about a year. It ended two years ago."

Draco was so caught up in being livid with her that he couldn't hide his surprise. The way they had acted together in those pictures didn't correlate to a long-over relationship.

She sat on the sofa, her hands shaking. "After Ron and I broke up, I met Charlie at a function in Romania. I'd been sent there by the research group I was with to attend a conference, and Charlie was staying in the same hotel for another meeting. We hit it off really well."

Draco hated the pain in her voice. It either meant that Charlie Weasley deserved to have the crap beat out of him or that Hermione was still in love with him. The former Draco would have been happy to oblige, but he suspected the latter. It hurt ... Merlin, it hurt him more than anything had ever hurt in his life. The one woman that he had opened up to, had shared parts of his life with...however small they might be...had wanted to be with and not just for one night, loved another man. He walked to the window and stared out, numb, as she continued.

"We were hesitant at first, but then we couldn't ignore what was happening between us. It was ... I've never felt so connected with another person in my life," she said, ignoring the doubt that had crept into her heart. Her statement had been true, once; until Draco, no one had come closer to her heart than Charlie. However, with Draco, she felt the seamless way they interacted, they way their thoughts seemed to merge, indistinguishable. There was undeniably a connection between them.

"Ron ... didn't take it well, and that's putting it mildly. He made things almost impossible. To this day, I don't understand why, but he hated that Charlie and I got on so well when he and I didn't work out, even though he had been the one to finally say, 'It's over.' Ron was angry, bitter, resentful, and vengeful, and he split the family, made it impossible to have a civil interaction with any of them. I couldn't go to Ginny, and I didn't want to put Harry in the middle. I had no one but Charlie, but even he was being torn in two. It couldn't work that way, and so we ended things."

The man is an idiot, Draco thought to himself.

Hermione took an unsteady breath. She had only told her parents about what had really happened with Charlie and the Weasleys. Even now, years after it had happened, it still hurt. She looked for Draco in the room and found him nearly hidden in shadows in one corner of the room. A bright beam of moonlight shone through the drapes, but he was tucked into the darkness. She could only see his hair and his face, softly lit by the silver light. His face seemed pained, and she couldn't understand why.

For some reason, however, when her eyes fell upon his tall, solitary, forlorn figure, the hurt seemed to ebb. Since Charlie, nothing had been able to ease the pain. Time had transformed it from sharp, radiating sensation to a dull but constant ache whenever she thought about it. Her first sign that something was changing had come when she had gone two weeks without thinking about Charlie once. She had been so scared that she made a concerted effort to remember her former lover. And up until Charlie had Floo'd her, requesting her presence, Hermione hadn't noticed that she didn't miss him. Was time simply pushing her forward, into the next phase? Or was the man across the room partly responsible, through no knowledge of his own?

She was silent for a long while, and Draco finally dragged his gaze to where she sat. He was surprised to find her watching him. He scowled and shifted his weight, returning to stare out the window.

"The thing is," she finally continued. "I have always thought that one day, he and I would ..." She shook her head to herself, at a loss. "Would figure things out and be together again. Get married. Sometimes when we're together, we act as though nothing bad had happened. Harry and Ron don't understand, but they don't say anything. Charlie, he ... he comforts me." Hermione swallowed hard. She had never admitted this, even to her parents. "When I need it. And he comes to me, too. It's not too frequent, but neither of us has ever turned the other away."

Draco clenched his jaw. There it was, the truth. She had been sleeping with Charlie with some regularity following the dissolution of their relationship. He hated how much it hurt, the way it made him feel. As though his entire sense of up and down, of balance and order, had been thrown out and he was left suspended, trying to figure out how to find his way forward.

"Until Friday," she said.

It was spoken so softly that he hadn't been sure he had heard her correctly. "What?" he croaked, his throat oddly dry.

"Charlie is my friend, Draco. But what you and I are doing is important. I couldn't risk messing it up. I knew he would eventually hear that you and I are together, and he wouldn't have understood why I had slept with him while I was with you. I don't cheat; I absolutely refuse to. So I told him about us, and it was better, in the long run, to refuse him."

"You told him. About us," Draco repeated.

"Yes. I had to," she said. "I had to explain why ...."

Draco pinched the bridge of his nose, not wanting to hear the rest of her sentence. He was a fool to have thought there could be any hope for something more between them. She wanted another, but was refraining in order to help him. No, that wasn't entirely correct; she and Charlie had been officially over for a couple of years. At any point during that time, they could have reconciled, but hadn't. Still, it was obvious where her feelings lay.

"It is my sincere hope that we can bring this matter to a close as soon as possible," he said, still unable to meet her eyes, "so that we can both resume the lives we wish to live."

Hermione felt strangely elated. She wasn't sure if it was from finally releasing everything or something else. It felt as though she had taken an important step forward, though she didn't know where she was going. That didn't matter just then; it was important just to be moving.

"I'm sorry about Friday, Draco," Hermione said, standing from the sofa and turning around to look at him.

His expression was blank. "Why?"

"You were right; it put our work together in jeopardy. I won't be so careless in the future. I also think we should go out in public, maybe this weekend. Friday night, since I know you're free. Let people know, in no uncertain terms, that we are together."

"Okay," he responded listlessly. "If Saturday is better for you, that's fine with me. I won't be seeing Carrie anymore."

It was Hermione's turn to be surprised. "Really? I ... why?"

Because of you!

Draco shrugged, feeling weary. He had been dressed in his work robes all day and felt a sudden longing to be rid of them, to rest his head on his pillow and sleep to forget Hermione and the hurt and confusion she caused. He loosened his tie and undid the top button of his shirt.

"You don't have to do that," Hermione continued. "I know you're very discreet, and so long as I don't have to speak to her again, I can't possibly ask you to give that up..."

"It's done," he sighed, pulling his tie completely off and untucking his shirt. "It was my choice. Don't concern yourself with it."

Hermione bit her lip, suspiciously overjoyed that he wouldn't be sleeping with that woman anymore. Not that she had any right to be jealous, or any claim on him. Merlin, she'd just poured her heart out to him about Charlie! She had no right to want Draco for herself. And yet, as she watched him cross the room, remove his shoes and belt, further unbutton his shirt, reality hit her, and she fell back onto the sofa.

She wanted him. Of course, she had known that, but only somewhere deep, deep down, far away from the sphere of reality. The thought had now materialized in her mind, and she wanted to kick herself for everything she had said about Charlie. The last thing Draco would ever think was that she wanted him. But she couldn't tell Draco the truth, that she had feelings for him and no longer loved Charlie. At worst, he would laugh and tell her how foolish she was for falling for him. At best, he would shut her out, seeking her help only through the post, if he even still wanted it.

"I think we're through for tonight, don't you?" he asked, leaning in the doorway of the closet, shirt fully undone and hanging open.

Hermione silently cursed his undershirt. "Reckon so."

He nodded. "Everything still on for tomorrow?"

"Yes. I've got the afternoon off. Blaise is watching my classes."

"Good." Draco frowned. "We'll discuss our ... date ... at a later time."

"Okay." She didn't like the way he said 'date,' as though it left a bad taste in his mouth. "Night, Draco."

"Goodnight, Hermione." He didn't wait for her to leave and turned into his room.

Hermione stared at the fireplace before her, watching the flames dance and flicker. Had she, by freeing her own heart, turned his away...if it ever even had been in her favor? If not, surely now his was removed from her reach. Hot tears pricked her eyes and she spoke her destination shakily into the flames. She waited a few seconds before stepping through.

Draco watched discreetly as she stood there, and then he watched her go. Despite what he had learned, he was unable to deny his feelings for her, to push them away, to bury them. He had opened his heart a little, and the damage was irreversible. His best defense now was to shield the open wound from further injury in the hopes that soon their association would end and he could be free to nurse his wounds alone.

ooo

A/N: Thanks as always for reading! A line in this chapter was inspired by "Oh, Brother, Where Art Thou?" Chapter title from a song by Dar Williams of the same name. Monstrous thanks to my betas, manda, pokeystar, & drcjsnider.

Art Credits: This chapter's fabulous art was created by marmalade fever. The playlist, as always, done by inadaze22. Thank you so much, guys!