O Tell Me the Truth About Love

                                                                                   

By Eamane-Shu

 

 

Disclaimer -  I do not own any of the characters from Harry Potter – I’m just borrowing them to have my own warped fun.

 

           


 

 

 

Ron stared at the fireplace, watching Hermione disappear. As soon as she left, he jumped in the floo and headed over to Grimmauld Place. Sirius had left everything to Harry in his will, and after he had vanquished Voldemort in his seventh year, without the threatening shadow looming over his head he had finally been able to move out of the Dursley’s and into Grimmauld Place. Although he lived alone, he was rarely in the house on his own, Ron or Hermione were there almost daily, Lupin and Hagrid, popped in a few times a week, and various school mates, or members of the old order were always calling by, so he was never lonely.

 

“Harry! Harry! Are you here?”

 

Hearing his friends shouts Harry hurried down the stairs, to be met with a frantic Ron. “What’s going on?”

 

“Hermione just left me” Ron’s face was pale.

 

“What? When?”

 

“She got back from her meal and then just packed her stuff. Said it wasn’t working.”

 

This confirmed Harry’s fears. “She knows.”

 

“What? How could she know?”

 

“She went to café rouge for lunch yesterday.”

 

Ron’s usually red face turned an unnatural shade of white. “Oh God, do you think she saw?”

 

“As she just walked out on you with no explanation, I should imagine it’s a distinct possibility Ron!” Harry was angry, he never should have been put in this position, having to choose between his two best friends, he felt sick with guilt every time he saw Hermione, and he was secretly glad it was all out in the open. “Where precisely is she now? I’ll go talk to her.”

 

Ron shook his head sadly, “I don’t know, she said she was staying with a friend.”

 

“Which friend?”

 

“She didn’t say”

 

“Did you even ask?”

 

Ron shook his head slowly. “God, I’ve really made a mess Harry. Hermione was the best thing that ever happened to me and I’ve royally mucked things up.”

 

“I’ll go and talk to her at work tomorrow” Harry put in. “But I’m not acting as a go between, I don’t want to be in the middle of this, you and Mione will just have to work things out on your own.”

 

Ron didn’t stay much longer, he went home, went to bed and laid awake until dawn broke.

 

 

 

 

 

Hermione arrived at the address that Malfoy had given her with some trepidation. Before she had arrived he had put all her things, which she had sent through the floo network before her departure from the flat, in one of the larger, nicer guest rooms. When she finally stepped out of the fireplace she was standing in one of the most opulent hallways she had ever seen. The Malfoy townhouse was located directly behind Diagon Alley, in the most exclusive areas of wizarding London, it was a far cry from the grotty apartment that she had shared with Ron, which had come with not only a very rude ghost, and temperamental hot water, but dry rot and an odd smell in the kitchen. The hallway was eggshell blue, and at least twenty feet high. The perfectly white ceiling contained ornate carvings, and the black and white checked floor had been scrubbed until it shone. Tears were streaming down Hermione’s face as she followed Draco into the sitting room, he led her over to the sofa and sat down beside her as she broke down. He unconsciously put his arms around her and held her to his chest until her wracking sobs subsided.

 

When she had finally finished, she sniffled into his shoulder “I’m ok now”

 

He reached into his pockets and handed her a white cotton handkerchief, which she accepted gratefully and used to dab her eyes. “Thank you” she whispered.

 

“What for?”

 

“For everything, you’ve been so kind.”

 

“It’s no problem” he smiled “As long as you promise not to tell anyone, I have my reputation”

 

Hermione smiled, feeling truly relaxed for the first time that day. “I should probably get some rest.”

 

Draco agreed, “Yeah, you look exhausted, and we’re on earlys this week.”

 

Hermione groaned “Don’t remind me!”

 

“Come on, I’ll show you to your room.”

 

Hermione followed Draco up two flights of stairs and down a long corridor, before they reached her room.

 

Like the rest of the house, Hermione’s room had a high ceiling, the walls were painted cream with gold edging, the floor had the softest carpet she had ever felt, there was a door sized window, with a tiny balcony looking out over Diagon Alley, which was framed by lush gold curtains. The furniture in the room was exquisite, there was a gilt framed mirror on the dressing table, in the centre of the room there was a large bed, which was surrounded by ornate carvings of unicorns.

 

As she entered the room Hermione gasped, she had never in her life seen a room so beautiful.

                                                                                                    

“Glad you like it” smirked Draco

 

“It’s perfect” she whispered half to herself.

 

“Well then if you need me, I’ll be in the room next door.” And he turned and walked out into the corridor, leaving Hermione to unpack. Soon she was tucked up in bed and sound asleep.                                     

 

Early the next morning she was woken by a frantic knocking on her door.

 

“Yeah?”  She moaned sleepily

 

“Hermione! Wake up. I overslept and we’re gonna be late” Draco called from outside her door.

 

“What time is it?” she moaned, half into her pillow.

 

Quarter to seven

 

“Oh crap” she had fifteen minutes to get to St Mungo’s. She leapt out of bed, ripping off her pajamas and rummaging in a drawer for her hospital robes, which she yanked over her head quickly.

 

There was a soft knock on the door “Can I come in?”

 

“Sure” called Hermione, as she fastened the last couple of buttons on her robes. Like all trainee healers her robes were a mustard yellow colour, which suited no-one, there was a small pocket just over her right breast, which bore the St Mungo’s crest, a wand and bone crossed.

 

“I made you some breakfast.” Draco smiled, as he came in, dressed in the same robes as Hermione, though as a trainee potion maker his were an unflattering shade of pale orange.

 

“You are a life saver” she smiled, as she pulled on a pair of shoes.

 

“I know” he grinned, leading her downstairs and into the kitchen. The kitchen was fairly large, but still very homey. It had beech wood surfaces, terracotta tiled flooring and warm peach walls. In the centre of the room was a breakfast bar, and on that breakfast bar sat two bacon sandwiches and two cups of tea, which the pair finished off in two minutes before rushing off to brush their teeth and floo into the hospital.

 

As Hermione’s rotation this week had her training on one of the spell damage wards on the fourth floor, she didn’t see Draco all day, as the potion labs were based on the third floor. At lunch time she wandered down to the main entrance of St Mungo’s, planning to nip out for a sandwich in one of the muggle shops around the corner. She was greeted by a not-too-happy-looking Harry, who was sitting in the waiting area.

 

“Hi Harry” she sighed, mentally preparing herself for an intense interrogation.

 

“Hey Mione” his voice full of false cheeriness “Do you fancy grabbing a bite to eat?” So instead of having a cheap sandwich, she found herself having lunch with Harry in the leaky cauldron.

 

“So what’s going on then Hermione?” Harry asked shortly after his Scampi and Chips had arrived.

 

“I broke up with Ron” she said calmly, not really feeling like making this easy for Harry.

 

“So I heard. How come?”

 

“Various reasons.”

 

He decided to broach the subject of Ron’s affair. “Did you see him in Café Rouge yesterday?”

 

“Yes” she said dangerously, spearing a piece of chicken with her fork, “Pretty girl he was with.” she commented, as if talking about the weather.

 

“He feels awful about it”

 

“Good” she said angrily. “He should feel awful. I feel awful.”

 

“Mione” Harry tried cajoling her.

 

She cut him off “But do you know what feels awful Harry? Do you?” she didn’t give him chance to reply. “It’s the betrayal that hurts. Not just the break up. And Ron’s not the only one who betrayed me Harry is he?” Harry didn’t know what to say, but Hermione continued “I trusted you Harry, you’re my best friend and you helped him keep this a secret.”

 

“I know, and it was killing me Mione, I hated myself for keeping this from you, and I’m so angry with Ron for doing this in the first place. But it was a no win situation, either way, somebody was going to get hurt.”

 

“So you chose Ron.”

 

“Hermione, give him another chance, he’s lost without you.”

 

“Harry, I... I can’t.”

 

Silence descended for a few moments before Harry broke it. “Where are you staying?”

 

“Just at a friends house.”

 

“He’s gonna have to move out of the flat because he can’t afford the rent.” He said sadly, trying to win her round by making her feel guilty, however it was the wrong tactic.

 

“I really don’t see how that’s my problem” she stated frostily. So what? Ron would have to move back in with his parents, or stay with the twins, after what he had done to her, it would be the smallest punishment possible.   

 

Just then, Hermione looked over Harry’s shoulder properly for the first time since they had sat down. Almost directly in front of her stood a red haired wizard, watching her intently. Ron was obviously too cowardly to talk to her face to face.

 

She tuned back in to what Harry was saying “…and Mione, Ron really misses you”

 

“I can tell that” she said, her voice ice cold “As he’s sent you to do his dirty work while he looks on.”

 

Harry flinched, and without another word, Hermione whipped out her wand and apparated back to St Mungo’s.

 

 

 

 

 

Later that evening, Hermione and Draco returned home, to find an owl waiting for Hermione. She recognised the owl, it was Pigwidgeon, containing a short note from Ron, the writing scrawled and barely legible.

 

 

Mione,

 

I understand you’re angry, but you have to talk to me at some time. I realize that sending Harry to speak to you today was probably a bad idea, but I was afraid that you wouldn’t talk to me. I’m willing to give things another go if you are. I wish you would let me know where you are as I’m worried about you.

 

I still love you

 

Ron x

 

 

                            

Hermione read then re-read the letter several times, while standing in the doorway, Draco looking at her curiously. “It’s from Ron.” She explained calmly.

 

“What does he want?” he spat out the words.

 

“Another chance” she sighed. “Do you have somewhere that I can reply to this?” she asked politely.

 

“Of course, he gestured to a room on her right, “There’s a desk, with quills and parchment. And my owl should be in there.

 

The study contained, as Draco had told her, a small mahogany writing desk, embossed with the Malfoy crest, a gold letter M, with a serpent underneath. Hermione sat down at the desk and began to write slowly and neatly.

 

 

Dear Ron

 

Having received your letter this is the only reply I can write: I don’t want to give things another chance, I’m sorry but this is the way I feel..

It’s over, and I think that this is for the best. You betrayed me, and I don’t think I could ever trust you again, and without trust, there is nothing.

As you expressed an interest in my whereabouts, I’m staying with a friend, as I told you before, I’m quite comfortable here, so there is no need for you to worry.

 

Don’t try and find me

 

 

Hermione

 

 

Hermione sighed deeply, before tying the letter to Draco’s eagle owl, and watching it fly off into the night. She wandered into the kitchen where Draco was sitting, nursing a mug of hot chocolate, deep in thought.

 

“Hey” she said quietly not wanting to interrupt him, he looked up and gestured for her to sit down.

 

“Would you like some hot chocolate?”

 

Hermione nodded “Please” He got a mug out of the cupboard and with a flick of his wand conjured some hot chocolate into it.

 

Hermione looked at him, stared into his deep blue eyes and spoke.

 

“I’ve made my decision.”  He raised his eyebrows questioningly. So she continued “I have decided to take you up on your offer.”

 

 

Continue

 

 

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