The Archer
January 11, 2004
Ginny was pacing in her sitting room anxiously waiting for Harry to get back from Grimmauld Place. She really needed to talk to him right now.
Had he seen the video?
The second that she saw it, she froze. She was never good with these things. What was she supposed to do?
She wanted to immediately go to Hermione’s and make sure that she was okay but decided against it. Ginny was always afraid to say the wrong thing. Especially when the one making Hermione hurt was her own brother.
How could he? Ginny decided the second that she saw the video that she was never speaking to her brother again.
One thing about Ginny was that she stood by those she loved, and she loved them fiercely. Hermione had been better to her than Ron had been.
Ron always pulled stunts like this when they were kids. Ginny just never thought he would do this to Hermione. The woman that had stood by him when he gave her every reason to run.
When he would get in trouble for breaking something or not doing chores, he would manipulate his way out of it by blaming someone else. None of them ever had an excuse or any proof to prove that he was lying, so it always worked.
Ron never pulled that little stunt with anyone at school because he knew they would see right through him. He always guilted their mother just enough for it to work. Ron also knew that it would never work on Hermione. But Ginny guessed that now… it didn’t matter. It was her word against his in the court of public opinion.
Ginny was lost in thought pacing when the fireplace in her sitting room roared and the room flashed green. Harry walked into their apartment with a smile still on his face from his evening at Grimmauld Place.
Harry’s face fell as soon as he saw Ginny’s expression. “What? What happened?”
She knew that Harry already was having issues with Ron because of the breakup, and even though both she and Harry were on the same page, she still felt bad having to tell him what a wanker one of his best friends is.
Ginny wasn’t upset for herself. She has known how Ron could be since they were kids.
She watched Harry for a moment. “You may want to sit. I need to show you something.”
A glimmer of what she thought might be hope blossomed in his eyes, but quickly diminished when he saw how troubled she looked.
They walked into their kitchen and Harry took a seat on a barstool at the counter while Ginny took it upon herself to pour Harry a glass of firewhiskey.
“It’s that bad?” Harry asked when he saw her reach for the bottle.
“Worse than that bad.” Ginny summoned the muggle laptop computer that Hermione had taught her how to use. She pulled up the video of Ron’s interview with Rita Skeeter, turned the volume all the way up, and turned it to face Harry.
The video that Ginny had watched a million times over, already, began to play again. She had watched it so many times in disbelief. It was obviously Ron, she wasn’t exactly surprised. But the fact that he did this to Hermione… that is what Ginny couldn’t believe.
Ginny had never been the biggest fan of Hermione and Ron’s relationship if she were being honest. Part of her was overjoyed that her best friend was basically family now. But then she looked at it from the sister, and not the best friend.
She wanted Hermione to stay as far from Ron as she could.
But Hermione had been happy with Ron, at first. And Ron loved her well. She didn’t want to interfere.
When the audio on the computer suddenly stopped, Ginny was brought back to the present.
She looked up to see Harry with his jaw dropped staring at the screen. “There’s no way that he just said what I think he just said.”
“Oh, he did. And it gets worse,” Ginny continued as she pressed play on the computer again.
They finished watching the video together. When it was done, the room was silent for a few moments. Harry was letting the words he just heard sink in. He downed his drink in one go.
“Have you checked on Hermione?” Harry stated while still looking at the computer screen, his hand clenched tight around his empty glass on the countertop.
“Not yet, I wanted to talk to you about it first. She’s my best friend, too, but you still know her better than I do. I wasn’t sure if seeing my face was what she needed right now,” Ginny said as she looked down at the countertop.
Harry reached out a hand, lifted her chin in his hand, and met her eyes. “Seeing your face would cheer anyone up, my love. Go see her, I’m sure she would love to see you,” Harry dropped his hand and pushed a strand of her hair behind her ear as Ginny nodded. Harry continued with a hard expression and a sigh, “Besides, I need to go see your brother.”
Ginny just nodded again. “Don’t do anything stupid, Harry.”
Harry gave Ginny a wicked smile, “I make no such promises.” Harry kissed Ginny goodbye and went to the sitting room to floo over to Ron’s.
Ginny went to her room and gathered all of her girls’ night essentials before heading to Hermione’s.
Hermione had gotten back from the studio about three hours ago and she had already written a new song and was already moving on to another. She had always used music and writing songs as her way to heal and let it all out. Instead of holding it all in, she would put it into song.
It was three hours filled with tears, memories –good and bad–, and trying to process and heal.
She was usually pretty good at letting things go, too. Once she had it out into music, it felt like she released it and had moved on. But this time felt different. It was Ron. It wasn’t just another relationship and someone she loved… it was years and years of her life. It was one of her very best friends that she had trusted with her life.
After another hour of writing, she had finally gotten up to make dinner. Once she made her way back to her sitting room, dinner in hand, she grabbed her TV remote and sat down on the couch. She scrolled through channels looking for something good to watch that didn’t involve thinking.
Hermione gave up after about five minutes of finding nothing which resulted in switching the TV setting to her DVD player. The Sound of Music was still in, so she resorted to watching that.
She was watching the movie and finishing her food when a head of red hair and a face full of freckles practically jumped out of her fireplace.
Hermione jumped in surprise clutching a hand over her chest. “Ginny? What the bloody hell are you doing?” She leaned closer to the coffee table and set her plate on it.
Ginny ran over and fell onto the couch, gathering Hermione in a tight embrace. “I’m so sorry, Hermione. I had no idea he would do that. I can’t tell you how sorry I am.”
It was quiet after that. Hermione let the words sink in and felt tears prick behind her eyes again. She squeezed Ginny tighter as she let the tears fall.
“Thank you, Ginny.” Hermione pulled back to look at Ginny through watery vision. “But it isn’t your fault. Don’t blame yourself for this.”
“But I knew how he was–how he is. I should have known. I should have stopped him–,” Ginny said shaking her head, silver beginning to line her eyes, too.
Hermione cut Ginny off midsentence, “Ginny. Stop. If you know Ron, then you know he would have done it one way or the other. This is not your fault.”
Ginny let the words hang in the air. She found Hermione’s hands and held them, both of them had tears slowly streaming down their faces. Ginny eyed Hermione carefully for a few seconds then said slowly, “Hermione, I need you to know that it’s not your fault either.”
The words hit Hermione like the Hogwarts Express barrelling down the West Highland Railway Line.
Logically she knew that it wasn’t her fault. She did. She really did. But she couldn’t help but think: why? Why her? She had done everything right. She tried her best to be the perfect girlfriend.
But it wasn’t enough. It would never be enough. At least not for Ron. But that was his problem. And, thankfully, it wasn’t her problem anymore either.
She was upset and sad, yes. But there was another emotion mixed in there that she hadn’t felt in combination with this despair before. It was rage. Anger.
Ginny was right. It wasn’t her fault.
The fact that Ron had the audacity to do this to her after everything they had been through. After everything he had done. Hermione was furious under all that sadness.
It made her tears fall harder.
This train of thought just wouldn’t stop. How had she let it happen? How had she not seen it until now? Yes, she was upset with him so often, but she hadn’t truly seen it until now.
It was like being in an airplane and seeing mountain ranges and fields of flowers from overhead, but when you’re on the ground, you can only see what is right in front of you. It was like looking at a painting versus being in one. She was finally seeing the full picture, for once.
She couldn’t change it now, but that feeling was still there. She knew that this one had cut deep.
Hermione hadn’t felt pain like this since Draco.
Draco was the love of her life. She knew it and nothing would change that fact. But after his trial and after he left the country, she felt like she had to give up on that and try to move on. Their breakup had been one of the top three hardest things that she had ever gone through in her life.
This breakup with Ron was making its way to the top three.
It was like Hermione was mourning her childhood in a sense. She was more upset over the loss of this friendship that had shaped the course of her entire life up to this point, versus the actual relationship. It was the betrayal by someone she thought would never hurt her.
Something about it just hit differently. She felt sad, angry, embarrassed, lost, and everything in between.
Hermione felt Ginny squeeze her tight again which brought her back to present. She didn’t realize she had started crying even harder until she felt her body shaking against Ginny.
Ginny, who was one of her closest friends. Ginny, who was holding her as she sobbed and wasn’t letting go. Ginny, who had always been there for her.
“Ginny, can I ask you something?” Hermione said through tears.
“Anything,” Ginny said still holding Hermione tightly as she cried.
“Promise me that if I ever find myself in a relationship like that again, you’ll pull me out before it’s too late.”
Hermione knew that Ginny was not to fault for what Ron had done. She wasn’t trying to make Ginny feel bad, but she needed to say it.
“Of course, Hermione. You know I’ll always be looking out for you,” Ginny let go of Hermione and looked away in shame. “I’m sorry that I was too late this time.”
Hermione took Ginny’s chin between two fingers to make Ginny look at her. “Ginny, listen to me. This is no more your fault than it is mine. The only person to blame is Ron. No one else.”
Hermione dropped her hand from Ginny’s chin. Ginny lowered her eyes as she nodded.
Ginny always felt responsible for Ron’s actions. She was the youngest of seven children. Her mother had made Ginny a type of mother figure, too. She may have been the youngest, but she was the only girl. And because of that, Ginny felt responsible for all her siblings in a way an oldest daughter always would. Ginny felt responsible for Ron’s behavior as if she was the one who made him that way, as if she was the one who raised him.
But she wasn’t. And Ron was not her responsibility. He never was, and he never should have been. Hermione needed Ginny to understand that.
“Ginny, look at me.” Ginny lifted her eyes. “Say it with me: this is not my fault.”
They both took a deep breath before repeating, together, “This is not my fault.”
“Say it once again,” Hermione continued.
They said in unison, more convincing this time, “This is not my fault.”
Both of them still had tears streaming down their faces.
Hermione was convinced that none of this was her fault, but that wasn’t stopping the feeling that came with this situation. She still felt angry, she still felt sad. She still felt betrayed.
She knew it would take a lot more than an affirmation to make that go away.
But that was something she could deal with later.
Hermione stood from the couch and went to put a kettle on the stove to make tea. On her way to the kitchen, she looked back at Ginny still on her couch. “You wanna stay over? I’m making tea and we can watch movies or anything else.”
“Of course.” Hermione smiled and started making her way back to the kitchen when Ginny called out again. “Hermione, I have a different idea instead of movies, if it’s okay with you?”
“What is it?” Hermione asked as she turned around to face Ginny again.
Would you play some of your songs for me? I feel like everyone has heard you and I really want to, as well. But only if you want to.”
Hermione’s gaze drifted to the guitar still sitting on her coffee table from before Ginny got here. “Of course, Ginny. I think I have an even better idea, actually.”
Ginny smiled softly, but Hermione knew that she was absolutely ecstatic. Ginny had been basically begging Hermione to sing for her ever since she found out that Hermione could, but Hermione never gave in.
“What’s your grand idea?” Ginny asked with a laugh.
“Well, when you got here, I was writing a song. But I haven’t finished it, yet. Wanna help me?”
Ginny’s eyes went wide and she was rendered speechless. There was a beat of silence before Ginny jumped off the couch, ran to Hermione, and gathered her in another tight hug. “Of course, Hermione! I can’t promise that I’ll be able to contribute all that well, but I’ll try my best!”
“Perfect, I’ll get the tea,” Hermione said with a laugh as she headed into the kitchen, Ginny in tow.
Ginny gathered the cream and sugar while Hermione made the tea. Once had everything, they made their way into the sitting room again and began writing.
Harry usually liked to floo into a nearby wizarding pub and apparate from there to his friend’s front doors. He liked the idea of knocking on their front doors, it was one of the few things he could do to feel normal after everything that had happened.
But Harry didn’t have time for knocking right now. He didn’t particularly care about how Ron would feel about it either, so he walked out of the floo, face flushed with fury, barely holding onto his anger, straight into Ron’s sitting room.
He brushed the soot off of his clothes as he scanned the room. Harry expected to see Ron in his flat but was shocked to see a head of black hair tenting around Ron’s unmistakable red mop.
Neither had heard him enter so he just stood there, frozen. Harry could see them laid out on Ron’s couch, the girl straddling Ron, the two of them with their hands –and mouths– all over each other.
It only took a few seconds for shock to turn into white-hot rage and for Harry to come back to his senses. “RON!” Harry shouted, fury bubbling in his chest.
Ron and the nameless girl jerked at the sound, startled. "Harry, what the bloody hell are you doing here?" Ron asked like Harry didn’t just walk in on him and this girl about to jump each other’s bones. Ron quickly sat up, but his arm was still around the girl.
The girl quickly pulled away from Ron and began adjusting her clothes, her eyes going wide when she realized who just walked in. "Oh my God... You're Harry Potter!" She looked from Ron to Harry, clearly flustered and a bit starstruck. "Is everything... okay?"
Harry ignored her completely, his eyes still blazing with fury as he stepped closer and yelled, "This is what you’re doing? Right after what you said about Hermione? After you dragged her through the mud, you’re here, doing this?" Harry’s voice was shaking with anger, his fists clenched at his sides.
Ron rolled his eyes, acting like it was no big deal. Like always. "Merlin’s sake, Harry, you’re overreacting. Hermione and I are done. What do you expect me to do, sit around and sulk? I’ve moved on, and clearly, you haven’t." Ron was still sitting on the couch, acting too nonchalant for Harry’s liking.
"Moved on? You didn’t just move on—you humiliated her. You made her out to be some kind of wreck. And now you’re here, messing around like none of it matters. Like she didn’t matter," Harry said, fuming as he stepped closer, voice low and dangerous.
Ron sighed and pulled his arm away from the girl as he stood from the couch, now irritated. "Look, Harry, I told the truth. It’s not my fault if you can’t handle it. She couldn’t keep it together, alright? I don’t owe her anything anymore, and you—"
Harry cut him off, his voice rising with his next words."You don’t owe her anything? Are you serious? She gave you everything, and you threw it back in her face! Now you’re here, making out with someone else like none of it ever happened!"
Ron shrugged. "What do you want me to do? Sit around and cry about it? It’s over, Harry. I’m allowed to move on, and frankly, Hermione wasn’t as perfect as you seem to think she is. She had her own issues, and it wasn’t my job to fix her," he said in a dismissive tone.
Still awkwardly sitting on the couch, clearly uncomfortable, the girl cut in, "Uh, maybe I should go—"
Harry ignored her and stepped up to Ron, their faces only inches away from each other. "You didn’t even try to fix things, Ron. You didn’t try at all. You just took the easy way out, made her look like the problem, and now you’re pretending like you’re the victim."
Clearly irritated now, Ron scoffed. "Maybe because I was the victim, Harry. I had to deal with her moods and her obsession with work. You weren’t there. You didn’t have to live with her like I did. It’s not my fault she couldn’t handle it."
Harry’s voice dropped, full of quiet wrath. "Handle it? You’re the one who couldn’t handle it! You couldn’t handle her being smarter than you, stronger than you. You couldn’t handle her being better than you in every way. So you trashed her!"
"Maybe you’re just mad because you’ve always wanted her for yourself, Harry. Is that it? Jealous because she was with me and not you? Maybe you should’ve stepped up when you had the chance." Ron said grinning, clearly trying to provoke Harry. Ron glanced at the girl on the couch. "But, you know, I’m doing just fine now."
Harry clenched his fists, unable to hold back any longer, his face tight with animosity. "Don’t. You. Dare."
Leaning in, Ron continued. "Or what, Harry? You gonna punch me? Go ahead. I’m sure that’ll make everything better for you."
Harry knew that Ron was provoking him, but he couldn’t help what happened next. Without hesitation, swung his fist and punched Ron hard in the face, sending him stumbling back onto the couch."That’s for Hermione."
The girl screamed and stood quickly from the couch. "Oh my God! What’s wrong with you?" She yelled at Harry.
Glaring up at Harry from the couch, Ron clutched his jaw, stunned and furious. "You’ve completely lost it, mate!"
Harry was breathing heavily, his chest heaving with anger as he pointed a finger at Ron. "No, Ron. You’ve lost everything. You lost the one person who actually gave a damn about you, and now—"
Harry’s voice cracked slightly as he turned toward the fireplace and grabbed a handful of Floo powder. He paused, his face hardening, and stared at the powder in his hand before turning back to Ron.
"And you’ve thrown away thirteen years of friendship. Just like that." Harry gestured between them, his voice thick with disbelief and pain."Do you even get it? All the stuff we’ve been through together... It meant something. It should’ve meant something. But you—"
Harry shook his head, eyes blazing with both anger and sadness. "You blew it. You just couldn’t stop yourself from dragging everyone else down with you. Well, I’m not gonna be part of it anymore."
He looked Ron dead in the eye, his voice turning sharp and final, and said,"You’ve destroyed everything we’ve built, Ron. There’s no going back. I don’t even know who you are anymore."
Ron was still clutching his jaw when his eyes went wide. Then he said, his voice desperate, almost pleading, "Wait—Harry, don’t do this, mate. Come on, it’s not that bad. We’ve been through worse!"
Turning back to the fireplace, his voice cold and steady, Harry finished,"We’ve been through worse, yeah. But this... You did this. You didn’t just screw over Hermione, you wrecked everything. And you don’t even care."
Harry threw the floo powder into the fire, the flames roaring green. Before stepping in, he looks back one last time, his voice quiet but firm."Don’t ever speak to me again, Ron."
Ron and the girl were left in stunned silence as Harry stepped into the flames.
February 3, 2004
Draco and Potter had been working the case as best they could with what they had. They had a small pool of suspects based on what they knew of current Deatheaters on the run.
They were sitting at the conference table when the door opened. Ron Weasley was standing in the doorway. Draco had found out that Potter had all but completely cut Weasley out of his life after his little stunt with Rita Skeeter. Neither man was happy to see the red-head in the doorway.
Potter looked up first while Draco was still pouring over reports. “What do you want, Ron?” Potter said as he cast his eyes back down to his papers like Weasley was the last person on the planet that he wanted to see.
“Are we still doing this, mate? It’s been–”
Potter cut off the sentence as his head snapped up to meet Ron’s eyes. “What. Do. You. Want,” Potter said as he stared coldly at Weasley.
Ron shifted under the pressure of Potter’s stare.
Draco thought that whatever happened between them after Ron’s stunt must have been even worse than he thought. It made him happy to know that Weasley was finally getting what he deserved.
The redhead sighed as he cast his eyes downward. “Tonks wants to see you both in her office,” he said with obvious disappointment.
Both Draco and Potter nodded silently and stood from the conference table.
Draco was walking ahead of Potter and made eye contact with Weasley as he exited the room. Ron’s eyes were cold and filled with hatred, obviously directed at him.
He waited in the hallway as Potter made his way through the doorway and past a puppy-eyed Ron. It was pathetic, really.
Potter was about to walk right past him without saying a word, but he stopped right next to him, gave Ron a side-eyed look, and said with deadly calm, “And I’m not your ‘mate.’”
Draco held back a chuckle which Ron noticed. The latter gave another hard, angry look as he stormed away and back to his desk.
As they made their way to Tonks’ office, Draco’s curiosity piqued. He looked over at Potter as they walked side by side and asked, “What was that all about? If you don’t mind me asking.” Draco wasn’t really expecting him to give him an answer but the worst that could happen is Potter says no.
But he didn’t say no. He actually started spilling the whole story… like they were friends…? Draco thought of Potter as his friend and Potter had said they were friends, but Draco didn’t fully believe it.
He couldn’t believe that the savior of the wizarding world actually wanted to be his friend. Because that’s what this conversation meant, that they were friends. With the information that Potter was giving him, the story he was telling him, that could be the only reason.
It was information, a story, you would tell your close friends. Not just a coworker. A friend. Draco took in that thought and returned his full attention to Potter’s story.
“...and then I punched him.”
The words Draco heard shocked him and he whipped his head in Potter’s direction as they kept walking. “You did what?”
Potter looked sheepishly over at Draco and repeated himself, “I punched Ron. He was– He deserved it.” He sighed then looked straight ahead.
Draco tried to hold back his laugh, “I bet he did.”
The two men walked the rest of the way to Tonks’ office in a comfortable silence.
As they approached the office door, Draco reached for the handle and opened it, allowing Potter to enter first. Tonks was sitting back in her chair looking through a folder labelled with the date. When the door clicked behind Draco, Tonks was finally drawn from her trance.
“Hello gentlemen, please, sit.” Tonks sat up and gestured to the two chairs that sat before her desk. Draco and Potter each took a seat in a chair. The energy in the room was serious and tense and they waited for Tonks to continue.
Tonks laid the folder flat on her desk and slid it toward Draco and Potter for them to look at. “We had another murder early this morning. Those are some details that we have so far. The crime scene is still being documented and investigated so we’re going to be heading over there soon. Go fetch your coats and meet me downstairs.”
She stood from behind her desk and Draco cast a doubling charm on the folder as they stood from their chairs so that they each could have a copy. Potter and Draco nodded to each other as they went their separate ways to get their coats.
As Draco made his way to his office and downstairs to meet Tonks and Potter, he had an odd feeling lingering in the back of his mind. He was hopeful yet filled with dread. This was the first crime scene that they would be able to examine for themselves but also meant that it would be the first time seeing it, which made the threat of a Death Eater resurgence feel even more real.
Draco was examining his other files from the other crime scenes as he approached Tonks and Potter in the atrium of the Ministry. He was still looking over them when he was suddenly stopped by Ron Weasley walking directly into his path, so quickly that he was almost run over.
Draco didn’t move his head, but slowly looked over his folder and up at Weasley standing before him. “May I help you?” Neither man moved a single muscle and Draco was channeling all of the rage he felt for Ron into the stare he was giving him.
Ron just gave Draco more angry stares and childish huffing and puffing then stormed off, not that it was a surprise. After all, what else did he expect from him? It’s not like he was the most emotionally intelligent.
It took every ounce of self-control that Draco had to not send aggressive and hateful insults hurtling towards Ron. Even if he had put his old self in the past, if there was ever a time and a person to bring him out of the dark, it was now and to Ron.
After what he said about Hermione in that interview… Ron deserved every bit of karma that came his way. Draco just hoped that he could be the one to give it to him. He also knew that if he and Hermione still were in contact, she would yell at him for yelling at Ron, no matter how much she knew he deserved it.
So, he held his tongue even after every muscle and bone in his body was nearly shaking with restraint and hatred.
And Draco had a job to do, so he did his best to clear his head and get back into work mode. He continued through the atrium until he saw Tonks and Potter talking by the apparition point. He made his way over and greeted them both before they apparated to an alley a few blocks from the crime scene in a small town outside of Muggle London.
There was yellow caution tape and a load of police cars blocking off a section of the street. Draco was looking around, trying to take in the scene and surrounding areas before they got too close. He saw people in the apartments above looking down at the scene through their windows, concern etched onto all of their faces.
“Do you guys feel that?” Potter said quietly.
“Yeah…” Draco and Tonks said in unison.
It was the faint hum of something that only a witch or wizard would recognize, especially after the war. It was the residual energy of dark magic.
There was a crowd of people lined around the caution tape, trying to get a better look at what was going on – morbid curiosity and all that, he supposed.
The three of them came to a stop outside of the yellow tape and waited for entry. A policeman walked up to them and they flashed their auror badges which were glamoured to look like muggle police badges, to be allowed into the restricted crime scene area.
The scene that they came upon was gruesome. The crime scene technicians were waiting for the go-ahead to start processing the scene and collecting evidence.
The victim was a young muggle man who appeared to be in his mid-twenties. There was blood spattered and pooled all over the area. It was obvious that the attacker used muggle methods along with magical ones.
As Draco was looking around the scene again, he saw it. It was a message, one meant for the Ministry of Magic and any who dared to stand in Voldemort's way, a stark reminder that the Death Eaters had no qualms about spilling innocent blood to spread their terror into the very heart of Muggle London.
He steeled himself as he prepared to work this case, knowing all too well that this wouldn’t be the last time he’d see that deadly mark.
February 4, 2004
Hermione was at the studio, writing and recording music and losing herself in it. Ever since she started recording her songs and writing more, Hermione felt… free.
Her partnership with George and Pansy had reignited something in Hermione. Passion in her work. Music had always been a hobby, not a job. But now, it was both. She felt alive again.
She had been spending her days in meetings, recording her first album with George, and in and out of photoshoots. After working day and night, every day of the week, Hermione’s first album was on track to be released around mid-March.
Hermione was fully aware that this was moving way faster than an album production process usually would, but she was so excited to get it out into the world, and her team was so supportive which made it incredibly easy to work on this project.
There were only a few songs left to record, so she and Pansy were taking a lunch break at a local restaurant just down the street from the studio.
They were sat at a high-top table drinking glasses of wine and chit-chatting.
They had just gotten an appetizer and placed their orders for entrees when Pansy asked, “So I have a question for you… What are doing on February 7th?” Pansy had that signature mischievous glint in her eyes.
“I’m almost afraid to say that I’m free. Why? What did you have planned?” Hermione responded.
“Well, it’s Blaise’s birthday and we’re having a little party. I want you to come.”
Hermione thought about it for a few seconds. Her initial reaction was ‘absolutely not’, but it did sound like fun. And she had only seen a handful of the same faces and been in the same places for the last month, so a change of scenery could be good.
It seemed like Pansy was holding her breath, waiting for a response. “Sure. I’ll come,” Hermione responded.
Pansy practically squealed with excitement, which made Hermione smile, sit back in her seat, and cross her arms with a laugh.
“Oh, Hermione we’re going to have so much fun! I am so excited for you to come!”
Hermione took a deep breath, “So am I.” And for the first time in a while, she meant it.