We Were Gold

As soon as I stepped through the fireplace into my cosy, welcoming flat, I allowed the tears to fall. Ginny led me to the sofa, wrapping a blanket Molly had knitted last winter around my shoulders, before setting off to the kitchen to make tea. Crookshanks rammed his head into my shins before slinking off to investigate the kettle which had just begun to whistle. I heard a soft mewl followed by a sigh and the opening of a biscuit jar.

“Only one, you mangy animal,” Ginny muttered, before coming back into the living room, a mug in each hand. “That bloody cat is a menace. If he had thumbs, he could rule the world.”

I sniffled as I accepted the tea. “Thanks, Gin, really. I just need to get things for tonight and then we can go.”

“Do you want me to shrink all of his clothes one size smaller? Light them on fire? Cover them in spiders?”

“Ginny!” I scolded. “I was the one who ended things.”

“Okay, and? He was the one who wasn’t a good partner, and didn’t support you, and tried to make you be someone you’re not,” she gesticulated wildly to emphasise her point.

I sighed, shrugging off the blanket as I stood. “Rationally, I know that. But I don’t feel that way right now.”

She wrapped one arm around me and pulled me in for a tight hug, leaning her head against mine. “It’ll be alright, Hermione. Now, get your pyjamas and wrangle your beast; we’ve got to get to Grimmauld before Ron turns up here.”

I nodded, summoning a worn flannel set, along with Crookshanks’ food and litterbox. I shrunk the pyjamas, shoving them into my beaded bag, and piled Ginny’s arms with everything else. I slid my engagement ring off of my finger for the last time, eyes welling again. I scrawled a quick note on a piece of parchment before placing it on the mantle, the diamond ring on top.

Dear Ronald,

I hope we can still be friends after this. I’ll always love you, but I haven’t been in love with you for longer than I’d like to admit.

Love Always,

Hermione

I blinked away the tears in my eyes before turning back to Ginny and forcing a small smile.

“Crooks, psps, Crooksie!”

His amber eyes blinked up me slowly before he deigned to leap into my arms. I belted them tightly around his stomach; he was not a fan of travelling via the floo network, and he tended to take it out on any exposed skin within reach. Ginny nodded her head for me to go first, and I stepped into the grate calling out “13 Grimmauld Place!”

Crookshanks yowled as we stepped out into Harry and Ginny’s living room, scampering off as soon I released my grip on him. Ginny was right behind me, and I quickly relieved her of her burden. She plopped onto the couch and summoned Kreacher.

He bowed deeply, tips of long ears brushing the floor.

“Could we have some dinner please, Kreacher? And a bottle of champagne?”

He disappeared with a soft pop before reappearing seconds later with two crystal flutes and a bottle of Dom Perignon. He poured us each a glass, snapping his fingers once. The coffee table in front of us was suddenly laden with food, all of it steaming and fresh. My mouth watered as Ginny thanked the elf and he left us again; I hadn’t eaten since my pastry this morning and I was starving.

Ginny handed me a plate and I filled it quickly with roast chicken topped with gravy, stuffing and roast pumpkin, a crispy Yorkshire pudding and sauteed carrots. I sank into the sofa cushion next to her as I swallowed a mouthful of delicious food. She clinked her champagne flute against mine before taking a sip.

“Ooooh, that’s good. Malfoy’s generational wealth is finally being put to good use,” she said with a sigh of pleasure.

My cheeks went hot at the mention of Draco’s name, and I could feel my heartrate speeding up. I needed to get a grip on myself; I had just ended my engagement an hour earlier. It had been years since I had had a crush, and even longer since anyone other than Ron had been the object of my affection. I had forgotten how all-consuming they could be.

“Ginny? Hermione?” I was saved from having to respond by Harry calling out from the front door.

“In here! Why didn’t you just floo in?”

Harry appeared in the doorway looking exhausted. “I had to escort Ron back to yours, Hermione, and then once he went to The Burrow, I locked down your floo. Had to apparate. Ta, love,” he said, taking a heaped plate from Ginny and collapsing into the overstuffed armchair opposite our couch.

“How is he, Harry?” I asked meekly.

He blinked at me over his chicken leg. “Didn’t break anything. I sent your mum a message letting her know what was going on, so she’s expecting him. She wanted me to give you this, Hermione.” He pulled a folded piece of parchment out of the pocket of his robes.

I reluctantly took it, remembering how Molly had turned on me in my fourth year when she thought I had broken Harry’s heart. I exhaled heavily through my nose before unfolding it.

Hermione,

I am so sorry to hear about you and Ron. You’ll always be a daughter to Arthur and me, no matter who you marry. Come around for dinner when you’re ready.

All my love,

Molly

Tears streamed down my face, dripping onto my dinner. “How lovely. I’ll have to send her a note.” I blinked rapidly until my vision cleared. “Thank you both for everything, but I’m going to have an early night.”

Harry rose with me, hugging me tightly. “Things’ll seem better in the morning.”

I nodded in agreement, waving to Ginny as I left the room. I absentmindedly made my way to the bedroom upstairs I had claimed immediately after graduation. Crookshanks was curled up on the pillow, unmoving as I entered the room and closed the door behind me. I changed in my pyjamas and crawled under the quilt, staring straight up at the ceiling, not tired in the least.

I had made peace with the end of my relationship, had probably done so long before I had consciously thought of breaking it off. As heartsick as I felt, I knew that I had made the right choice, which would only become clearer as time went on. I was never going to be the woman that Ronald wanted me to be. I certainly wasn’t going to limit myself professionally in order to be his demure wife, devoted to raising his children and tending his home whilst he went on international auror missions.

I needed a partner, someone with whom my life could be shared as an equal; someone who enjoyed the little monotonies of our life together instead of seeking out grand adventures and basking in celebrity. Someone who enjoyed the books I recommended and didn’t mind that I could barely boil an egg. Someone who liked getting into light-hearted debates about anything and everything but wouldn’t be cowed if I bested him. Someone, the voice in my head suggested, like Draco.

Images of his muscular torso flashed behind my closed eyelids; I imagined the flex of his biceps as he held himself over me, the tip of his nose brushing along the side of my neck, filthy words whispered in my ear. I hugged my pillow to my face, groaning loudly into it. I needed to get past my attraction to Draco; I couldn’t stand to lose his friendship, any more than I could bear the thought of the pitying look on his face were I to confess my interest.

The sudden tapping of a beak on my window caused me to bolt upright, Crookshanks’ eyes opening only long enough to glare at me for disturbing him. I quickly opened it, allowing a tiny, white owl to fly in and settle on the desk. I rummaged through my beaded bag for an owl treat, offering it to the fluffy bird who gladly took it before flying away. I unrolled the scroll curiously.

Hermione,

Sorry to disturb you on the weekend, but we’re almost ready to print tomorrow’s edition and I just need some clarification of details Ron gave us today. The two of you had dinner at Magica Italia to confirm your wedding menu; could you provide details? Also, he confirmed that you would like two photographers from the paper and two journalists to cover the wedding; I’ll just need the date to allocate the staff.

Also, on a side note (and I know it’s none of my business), after he came in to speak with me, he went over to the sports desk to talk to Ernie about the upcoming quidditch season. I asked Ernie about it later and he said Ron was looking to place some bets on matches; not illegal, of course, but a bad look if it gets out. Thought I owed you the heads up as a former dormmate.

Send an owl with the information as soon as you can-I’d hate to delay the story about your wedding!

Kind regards,

Parvati Patil

Editor, The Daily Prophet

I gasped at the sheer audacity of Ronald Weasley before I crushed the parchment into a ball and incendio-ed it. I began pacing, fury coursing through my blood. The nerve of him, to go behind my back like this about a wedding neither of us had spared a single thought about! Not to mention the gambling! If I hadn’t already broken our engagement, this would have been the final straw; the gall of him was appalling.

I stopped after my fourth lap of the room, and sank into the desk chair, laying my head on the desk. How could I have gone so long without seeing who Ron had turned into? He didn’t resemble the boy I had fallen in love with in the slightest anymore.

Several hours later, I woke up suddenly, a crick in my neck from having fallen asleep on the desktop. The room was almost completely dark, the only illumination from the streetlights outside. I sat up slowly, trying not to aggravate my neck any more than I already had, before the clicking of a beak to my right startled me. A great-horned owl was resting on the windowsill, scroll tied to its leg, looking at me serenely.

“When did you get here, hm?” I murmured sleepily, gently reaching out a hand to stroke its majestic feathers.

It twitched its wings, allowing me to remove the letter before beginning to peck at the package of cat treats on the desk. I opened the bag, offering two of the fish-shaped biscuits before it settled more comfortably on the desk; clearly it was waiting for my response.

I should have guessed that the regal bird was from Draco, a subtle display of wealth and grandeur, tasteful but not showy. His advice to submit a statement to the Prophet regarding the end of my relationship reminded me about Parvati’s message regarding Ronald, a new rush of anger flowing through me.

I summoned a quill and a piece of my personalised stationary from the depths of my bag and wrote a formal statement for publishing, addressed to Rita Skeeter, along with a postscript that I spelled to only reveal itself to her.

Rita, you’ve been a wonderful ally in only reporting the stories I give my approval for. Don’t change now, or my secrets won’t be the only ones coming to light.

H.G.

The owl spread its wings the moment that I finished securing my letter to its leg, and I watched it slowly shrink into the distance. A loud meow broke my trance, and I turned to see Crookshanks eyeing the cat treats. I rolled my eyes and shook my head at him; he glared at me, turning to face the wall as I climbed back into bed. Sleep eluded me for ages, thoughts of red- and blonde-haired men flashing through my mind. Eventually, I fell into a restless slumber, tossing and turning until I woke up, distinctly unrefreshed.

The smell of bacon was enough to drag me from my bed, Crookshanks hot on my heels. Harry and Ginny were seated at the breakfast bar, Kreacher busy at the stove preparing a fry up.

“Here she is!” Ginny said brightly when she noticed me in the doorway. “How are you feeling about everything this morning? When did you have a chance to write to Skeeter?”

Her bombardment of questions ended with Harry’s quelling look. They communicated silently for another moment before she stood and made her way to where I was standing. She gave me a sheepish grin, wrapping me in a hug before leaving the room. I raised my eyebrows at Harry whose only response was a shrug.

“You know how she gets. I wanted to have a second to talk to you before she really got going, and there’s something that I need to say to you.”

I took Ginny’s abandoned seat, accepting a mug from Kreacher before preparing my tea. Harry’s eyes bored into the side of my head, watching every step. Once I had finished, I looked up, meeting his unwavering gaze.

“I wanted to say that I’m sorry, Hermione. I could see what was happening with you and Ron, but I was so wrapped up in my own shit that I just let it go without saying anything or calling him out on his behaviour. I watched him propose to you before you were ready and didn’t think to question him on it. You deserve more than he gave you, but you deserve more than I offered too,” he said with a wan smile, reaching out to grab my hand. “You’ve been trying to be everything to everyone, and I let you. But I swear, it won’t happen again. You’re my best friend, my sister, really, and I let you down.”

I squeezed his hand, resting my head on his shoulder. “I love you, Harry.”

He pressed a kiss to my head as Ginny re-entered the room.

“Everything out in the open? Does this mean we’re allowed to offer unsolicited advice now?” She asked, taking the stool on my right and immediately tucking into her breakfast.

I sat up and nudged her with my shoulder. “Has anything stopped you before?”

She grinned around a mouthful of fried tomato. “You need to fuck Draco.”

I choked on the toast I had just taken a bite of. “Excuse me?”

Harry huffed behind me but was otherwise silent. She continued, “What? He’s fit as hell and clearly into you. You may be oblivious to his pining, but surely you’re not blind to the absolute physical perfection that is Draco Malfoy.”

I wheeled around to face Harry, who swallowed a mouthful of eggs before putting his hands up in what was clearly meant to be a calming gesture. “I’m staying out of this. You’re both my friends, but so is Ron and I’m not getting involved. I’m neutral, and completely uninterested in your love life, no offence, Hermione.”

“The fuck you aren’t, Harry Potter! Whose idea was it to have Malfoy do Wizengamot prep with her while he’s injured? Who was the one who got into his ear about how unhappy she was? Who was the one who wanted to plot to break the two of them up so Malfoy could swoop in and save the day?”

I gasped, head on a pivot between the two of them.

“Et tu, Ginny!” He hissed. “What about spousal privilege?”

She waved her hands dismissively. “Hermione, can you honestly sit here and tell me that you haven’t once thought about Draco Malfoy in a non-platonic way?” She folded her arms, drilling me with her stare.

I gulped, looking away. “Well, no, but-”

“Uh-huh. See? You need to pursue this. Be selfish. He is Merlin’s gift to witches, Hermione, and he is focussing all of that on you. Take advantage of it. Do something that you want without worrying how it will affect others.”

I bit my lip. “We’ve been friends for years-”

She shook her head. “Try again. You and Harry have been friends for years. You and Draco have been dancing around each other because you were with Ron while the rest of have been caught up in the sexual tension between the two of you.”

I could feel my cheeks flush. “Okay, fine, yes, he is incredibly handsome. But-no Ginny let me finish-I can’t risk our friendship because I’m interested in more.”

She shot me a smug smile. “I didn’t say anything about ‘more’. I just said suggested taking him for a ride,” she said with a wink. “Now that we’ve gotten to the heart of the matter, can I just say that the two of you are much better suited than you and Ron?”

My jaw dropped open. “That’s not what I-”

“Hermione, we love you, but we can’t play along with this delusion of yours. Malfoy’s great, we like him. We love you. You’re both absolutely into each other but convinced it’s not reciprocated,” Harry interrupted me.

“But I just ended things with Ron!”

He shrugged. “Officially. You’ve been checking out of your relationship for ages, Hermione. You haven’t given a thought to actually planning a wedding. It was easier for you to just be together than to stir the pot and end things. Now though, there’s no excuse to not see where things go with Malfoy.”

I could do nothing but gape at the pair of them. “I need to leave.”

Ginny grinned as I stood. “I’ll check on you later. Leave a sock on the door if you’ve got company.”

Harry rolled his eyes before passing me a sheet of parchment. I took it warily. “Just read it.”

“Draco’s receiving a medal of valour? He must be so pleased!”

Harry snorted. “I wouldn’t say that based on the amount of profanity he used in the letter he sent. Unfortunately for him, I don’t particularly care about his opinion on the matter. Someone “accidentally” let it slip when we popped over to see Molly earlier,” he glared at Ginny, “and I had to force a calming draught down Ron’s gullet.”

She rolled her eyes. “I’ve already apologised, and I promised I would do that thing you like with my-”

I held up my hands. “No, enough. I’m leaving. Thank you for your hospitality and support, I mean it, truly. I love you both, but I cannot tolerate being witness to your foreplay today.”

I summoned my beaded bag and sundress from the day before, before scooping Crookshanks up into my arms from his place on the floor longingly staring at the platter of bacon.

“Say bye, Crooks,” I prompted. He hissed angrily, trying to stretch out a paw towards the food. I turned on the spot and disappeared with a crack.

* * *

I wiled away the rest of my day by tidying the flat. Ron had ignored the many opportunities I had asked for his input on décor and furniture, so the lack of his belongings amounted to a half-empty wardrobe and a few missing photographs on the walls. The wards didn’t take long to adjust, but I kept my floo locked down; I wasn’t interested in any unexpected company. Throughout the day, several owls came by, dropping off brief notes of support from former classmates, colleagues, and even Headmistress McGonagall. Parvati sent a bouquet of tulips as thanks for what she called ‘the scoop of the century’ which Crookshanks promptly destroyed.

Ginny stopped by in the evening, bringing with her a piece of lasagna bigger than my head.

“Mum’s worried you’ll starve here by yourself,” she said in explanation. “Do you want me to stay for a bit?”

I shook my head, putting the plate in the microwave to reheat. “No thanks. I’m actually okay. A little stir-crazy, but that’s about it.”

She nodded, accepting the dismissal for what it was. She scratched Crooks behind the ears before disapparating away. I was reminded of how much I adored Ginny. She was my mother hen and guard dog all rolled into one. As brash and opinionated as she could be at times, she was a dedicated and devoted friend, one who wouldn’t hesitate to ignore my protests and park herself on my couch if she was concerned. 

I ate the lasagna while on the sofa, half paying attention to What Women Want playing on the telly. Crookshanks had entwined himself around my shoulders on the back of the sofa, so I couldn’t move for risk of disturbing him. Having spent the day doing nothing more strenuous than dusting my bookshelves, I was keyed up and full of nervous energy. I realised that I had never directly responded to Draco’s owl the night before, although he was certain to have seen my statement in today’s Prophet.

I hurriedly wrote my reply, gnawing on the end of my ballpoint pen when I reached the end, unsure if I was being too vulnerable. I sent my otter patronus to Harry asking if I could borrow Lysander to send a letter. Instead of a response he simply popped over, depositing the grey bird on my desk and popping away with nought but a squeeze of my shoulder in greeting.

Thirty minutes later Lysander returned, a letter around his leg. I read it quickly, flipping the parchment over to pen my response.

D,

It’s a date. I’ll see you then.

H xx

I tied it to Lysander’s leg before my courage could evaporate. I crawled into bed and fell asleep with a smile on my face, thoughts of posh, blonde aurors swirling through my mind.