Chapter 14
Hermione’s POV
The warmth of the French estate didn’t reach the cold pit in Hermione’s stomach. She sat curled into the corner of the sofa, her fingers gripping the sleeve of Draco’s sweater she had borrowed. The fabric was soft, nothing like the harshness she had grown used to.
Draco and Theo sat across from her, waiting. She could feel their eyes on her, but they weren’t pressuring her to speak. Not yet.
Theo, ever the one to break the silence, leaned forward with a casual smirk that didn’t quite meet his eyes. “So, Granger, what’s the deal? Why did the famous Potter and Weasley decide you weren’t worth a damn anymore?”
Hermione let out a dry laugh, though there was no humor in it. “Because Ron made sure they believed I was the problem before I ever knew I had one.”
Draco’s jaw tightened. “How?”
Hermione inhaled sharply. Where did she even start?
“It wasn’t obvious at first,” she admitted, her fingers twisting the fabric of her sleeve. “It started small. The comments, the complaints… Ron made himself look like the perfect husband in front of everyone. But behind closed doors, he was different.”
Theo’s smirk vanished.
“He told Harry I was controlling.” Hermione swallowed hard. “That I didn’t let him make decisions, that I acted like I was smarter than him—like I was never satisfied with anything he did.” She laughed bitterly. “And honestly? I think Harry believed it because part of it sounded true. I mean, I was always correcting Ron in school. I was always the one taking charge.”
Draco’s hands curled into fists against his thighs.
“Ginny?” Theo asked, eyes dark.
Hermione sighed. “Ginny was different. She wasn’t manipulated—she was angry. Ron told her I made him feel like nothing. That I didn’t love him properly. That I was cold and distant. And Ginny, who always defends her family, decided I wasn’t good enough for her brother.”
Draco scoffed. “That’s bullshit.”
Hermione gave him a sad smile. “It worked.”
Theo ran a hand through his hair. “So, let me get this straight. Weasley paints you as the villain, and because Potter and Ginny are too thick to question it, they just take his side?”
Hermione nodded.
Draco’s voice was low, controlled, but seething with anger. “And your job? What excuse did he use for that?”
Hermione’s throat tightened.
“He said it was for us.” Her voice was hollow. “That he wanted a family, and if I really loved him, I wouldn’t put my job first
Draco leaned forward, his elbows resting on his knees. “So, let me get this straight—Potter didn’t think something was wrong when you just disappeared from his life?”
Hermione let out a bitter laugh. “Oh, he noticed. At first.”
Theo raised an eyebrow. “And?”
She sighed, wrapping her arms around herself. “In the beginning, he asked why I wasn’t coming around as much. But Ron always had an excuse. He told Harry I was tired, that I was adjusting to being a wife, that I just needed time. And when I did see them, Ron made sure I never had a moment alone to say otherwise.”
Draco’s fingers curled into fists. “And Potter—who fought in a bloody war and was supposed to be your best friend—just accepted that?”
Hermione looked away. “Ron knew exactly what to say to him. He’d tell Harry I was being difficult, that I was moody, that I was struggling but didn’t want help. And when I started pulling away more, he made it seem like it was my choice. He made sure they thought I didn’t want to be around anymore.”
Theo let out a slow breath. “That’s some next-level manipulation.”
Draco’s jaw tightened. “It is.” He shook his head. “And what about Weasley’s family? Surely they noticed something?”
Hermione swallowed hard. “Molly adored the idea of me being a proper housewife. She thought I was finally settling down, acting the way a good wife should. And the others…” She hesitated, rubbing at her arms. “They just followed Ron’s lead. He told them I was pulling away, that I was different after the war, that I didn’t want them in my life anymore. And they believed him.”
Draco exhaled sharply. “Unbelievable.”
Theo’s expression darkened. “So, let me get this straight—Weasley isolates you, makes you quit your job, keeps you from your friends, feeds them all lies, and they just… let it happen?”
Hermione’s throat felt tight. “Yes.”
Draco’s voice was low, dangerous. “And Potter—the man who swore he’d always have your back—let him?”
She looked down at her hands, fingers twisting in her sweater. “I think, deep down, Harry didn’t want to believe anything bad about Ron. It was easier to think I was the problem than to admit that the best friend he grew up with was capable of something so awful.”
Theo scoffed. “That’s some Gryffindor loyalty for you. Absolute rubbish.”
Draco exhaled slowly, rubbing his temples. “And now?” His silver eyes locked onto hers. “Do you want them back? If Potter and the others realized the truth, if they apologized—would you take them back?”
Hermione hesitated. Once, the idea of losing Harry, the Weasleys—her entire found family—would have destroyed her. But now… now she wasn’t sure.
“I don’t know,” she admitted, voice barely above a whisper. “They let me go too easily.”
Draco nodded, something unreadable in his expression. “Then they didn’t deserve you in the first place.”
Theo nudged her shoulder gently, a smirk softening the tension in the room. “Lucky for you, Granger, you’ve upgraded. You’ve got us now.”
She huffed out a laugh, despite herself. “Merlin help me.”
Theo grinned. “Damn right.”