XIII. Willowgrove

Draco stood in one spot for several moments after she left, trying not to let his emotions get the best of him. Well, what did you expect? You wanted to push her away to save face, and you bloody well did it. Things would be so much easier if they were out of each other's lives. She had already shown that her loyalties lay with Weasley. It had taken so much self-restraint not to admit he was lying when her face revealed her hurt at his words. He had so wanted to tell her that every bloody word he had said was a lie.

The Malfoys were prideful. He would never have admitted he cared.

It took him a moment to notice that Ron had appeared in the doorway. Speak of the devil. He was the last person he wanted to see right now.

Draco couldn't even bring himself to shoot a degrading remark at him. Instead he graced him with a sneer that made Ron's face crumple into an even more sheepish look than he'd had before. Pathetic, Draco thought.

"Look," Ron said, clearly uncomfortable as he ran a hand through his tangled red mop of hair, "I just came to…aploshurgh." He mumbled the last bit as quietly as he could.

"What was that?" Draco prodded. "Spit it out, Weasel."

"Apologize, alright? Apologize!" When Draco didn't say anything, he continued, reaching up to rub the back of his neck. "For some odd reason, Hermione got upset when I discredited you. Said summat about not being appreciative of your efforts, or some other nonsense."

Malfoy tried to take pleasure in the fact that Hermione had told off Ron, but at that moment, he couldn't seem to find any, so he continued to give Weasley a blank stare.

"Anyway, if it makes her happy, I'll apologize. So I am. Not that you'd have had any idea that I said it otherwise, but sorry." He was rambling now. Was there really no end to it?

"Is that all?" He had never seen someone fidget so much in his entire life. Apparently Draco's lack of response angered Ron, because he wasn't finished.

"Look, I come up here to put myself on the line and you can't even manage a thank you?"

"'Fraid not."

Ron's face started to flush with anger. "We're engaged, you know," he said, successfully making Draco snap his head almost imperceptibly towards him. Seeing that he had finally stirred some sort of reaction out of him, he continued. "She agreed to get married."

Draco stared at him a moment longer. "Don't take me for a fool, Weasley," he spat. "Think of the wrath you'd stir up in Granger if she heard you telling such lies."

Flushing even more at being caught in a lie, he sputtered, "Well, just—just stay away from her! Things were going fine before you came along!"

"I thought I told you not to tell lies."

"You shut your mouth, you big oaf!" Ron shouted back, striving for some more control of the situation. Tired of the conversation, Draco ushered him out and shut the door cleanly in his red, freckled face.

How dare he? Hermione smothered her face with a pillow and let out an exasperated, muffled scream. The nerve of him! I am not drawn to self-pity. Talking down to me like that—who does he think he is?

A Malfoy. That's who he thinks he is. The only reason Hermione could come up with as to why his comments bothered her so much was that they were untrue. It wasn't because she cared what he thought; he was just speaking lies.

She could barely bring herself to listen to Ron later that evening.

"I know you're angry with me for what I said. I still don't quite understand why…" Ron trailed off, meeting her gaze hopefully. She knew he wanted her to shed some light on the situation, but she wasn't going to give him the satisfaction. When she said nothing, he pressed on. "I just wanted to let you know I apologized to him—not that the git accepted it very readily, but I did try. I'd do anything to make this work," he finished.

She sighed, unable to accept his seemingly sincere peace offering. It was obvious that his apology was only an attempt to placate her. He meant what he'd said about Draco—and no doubt he'd say it again if given the change. He hadn't changed. Why do you even care if he said untrue, cruel things about Draco? You're not affiliated with him anymore, she reminded herself.

Bringing a smile to her face that she hoped didn't look too forced, she brought herself closer to him and met his gaze. "We'll talk more about it tomorrow when all of this is over," she promised. "We've both got to get some sleep."

Shortly after he left, she sank into her pillows, intent on resting up, but after much tossing and turning, she found that her bed seemed liked it was missing something.

Hermione purposefully avoided Draco's icy gaze from across the table. Everyone was here, ready. This was it. No one dared deny Hermione access to this final battle. Hermione had had Grimmauld basically all to herself for the last week or so (she wasn't counting Malfoy as they never spoke anyway). Harry and Ginny had visited her a few times, but most of everyone's time was spent at the Burrow, making last minute plans. The attack on Willowgrove had been planned down to the very last detail; there was no way they could lose. Having been provided with a detailed layout of the estate (courtesy of one Draco Malfoy), they had shed the disadvantage of unfamiliar ground.

It seemed that everyone had gradually started to look at Draco in a new light. He had successfully gained the respect of everyone in their party, save Ronald. His comments and strategies were taken into account without suspicion. They would never have gotten this far if it hadn't been for him. It was too bad she couldn't even bear to look at him. He was certainly on her mind all hours of the day, and every instant she thought of him caused her more pain. Was she really so broken a person that even the notorious Draco Malfoy couldn't give her the time of day? She thought of her harsh words. "You're selfish, Malfoy…I'm sorry to have known you." Every moment that she thought of apologizing, she remembered how he had used her to curb his loneliness and the horrible things he had said to her as well. She was far too embarrassed to speak to him again. It was clear that he wanted nothing more to do with her. It was probably better that way anyway.

"Got that, Hermione?" Harry asked her, eyes full of concern. She snapped out of her rambling thoughts, wondering what it was he had said before. A quick peek around the table revealed that everyone was staring at her expectantly, skepticism in their eyes. She knew what they were thinking. "Is Hermione stable enough to go through with this?"

"I'm sorry, what was that?"

"The formation," Harry said softly, pointing to the scroll on the table in front of them. "You'll go in the back entrance with George, Fleur, Remus, and Draco." Hermione tried not to flinch too noticeably. "Ron, Bill, Ginny, and Molly and I will split up and come in through the front entrances."

"Right." Hermione tried to give a reassuring smile, but fell very short of it. They had all run over the plan at least a hundred times. Only Ginny seemed to notice the obvious tension between Hermione and Draco. It was clear she knew that something had happened between the two of them. Snap out of it! Hermione chided herself. Now is not the time to be thinking about this! We are about to end this war, once and for all.

Later, Hermione was sulking in the study and trying very hard not to look like she was sulking. Ginny joined her at some point, not saying anything at first, apparently understanding that Hermione wasn't in much of a talking mood. She could only contain herself for a little while, though, unfortunately for Hermione.

"It's Malfoy, isn't it?" she asked, causing Hermione to flinch violently.

"What's Malfoy? What are you talking about?" She swallowed, trying not to be so obvious.

"Something happened between you two, didn't it?" Ginny asked softly. "Don't even try to lie about it."

Hermione managed a grim smile. "Yes…" she answered hesitantly, seeing Ginny's eyes flash with eagerness at her gossip. "But you can't tell anyone," she hissed quickly.

"Hermione, you have been my closest friend in ages. I would never betray you like that," she said sincerely. After a pause she grinned wickedly. "But you have to tell me everything!"

Laughing, Hermione scolded, "Ginny! How can you be so sure that something serious happened?"

"Oh, Hermione you are rather naïve, aren't you?" Ginny teased. "You two looked like you were holding back truckloads of tension, giving each other long stares of silent desperation—"

"Merlin, Ginny!" Hermione interrupted as Ginny clutched her chest. "Dramatic much?"

"—and then looking glowing and completely content the next day, and now you both are completely miserable. Something big happened, all right."

Hermione couldn't help but blush before she got sad again. "Trust me. Malfoy was definitely not happy and 'content' afterwards."

"Ah! You're back to using his last name. And of course he was happy. He only got miserable again once you quit talking to him."

"When I quit talking to him? He was extremely clear in conveying that anything that happened between us meant nothing."

"He's lying," Ginny said matter-of-factly, crossing her arms smugly. "I saw his face when you walked down the stairs on Christmas morning."

Hermione's stomach betrayed her as butterflies began to flit about. "It must have been something else," she responded stubbornly. Deep down, as much as she wanted Ginny's words to be true, she knew that they weren't. Draco Malfoy wanted nothing more to do with her. That had been confirmed when he hadn't tried to talk to her again. "You're so lucky to have Harry," she said after a pause. "It was always obvious that you two would end up together."

Ginny considered her words carefully. "Some might say that it was obvious that you and Ron were meant for each other." Hermione looked down at the floor. Ginny leaned in. "But what would the world be like today if everybody always did what was expected of them? Just because everyone around you says you should be with Ron, doesn't mean you should be. I love Harry more than anything, but there were times where I thought that it truly wasn't going to happen between us. You have to follow your instincts."

Hermione nodded, unwilling to finish the conversation.

Willowgrove was tall and ominous-looking. It had probably once looked exquisite, but time and neglect had led to vines creeping up the fading paint and the handsome-looking beams to sag with age. Granted, Hermione could only see the house from the back, but that was enough to fully take in its splendor. Despite its size, Willowgrove was actually an ingenious location to hide out in. No doubt there was comfortable space for the Death Eaters, and the house was concealed not only by magic, but by a thick spattering of forest as well.

They had been crouched in the brush for a good hour, waiting for Harry's first signal. Harry's group was to split in two, and observe the house for any movement.

"There!" Remus whispered quietly to her. She followed where he was pointing to and saw faint, blue sparks lazily flying off to the side of the house.

"That's our cue," Hermione told everyone, and they begun to leave their cover from behind the house.

As they fell into formation, Hermione, rather than getting more nervous with anxiety at the fight, found herself calming down more as she slipped into a role that she had almost forgotten was there. This was something she was familiar with: fighting the dark side. How many times had she, Harry, and Ron faced Voldemort and planned out elaborate schemes? She had spent hours the night before poring over the layout of the house and brushing up on her dueling spells. Preparation was something she was well versed in. There was no hesitation as she took charge of her group.

As she, Remus, Fleur, George, and Malfoy crept along the back, she kept her eyes peeled in the distance for Harry's final signal. Hermione rolled her eyes as Fleur started to hyperventilate.

"Fleur! Pull it together!" Hermione hissed as quietly as she could. "Harry will be signaling any second now." Once Harry shot off red sparks, that was their cue to go in and start attacking from behind. She couldn't help flicking her gaze to Malfoy, attempting to read his expression. There was definitely something off about his expression, but she couldn't put her finger on it. Then again, she was never able to read his face very well.

He caught her staring at him and turned to her. She challenged his stare. "You know, there's probably something you should know," he said quietly.

Before she could take in what an important matter he was probably about to tell her, George's fingers dug into her arm. "That's it! There! The sparks."

Hermione turned her head with a sinking feeling, and sure enough, red sparks were erupting faintly from the side of the house.