Unbidden Love Chapter Ten

Chapter Ten: Desertion

Hermione didn’t know how many hours she had slept, but from the complete exhaustion that weighed down each of her limbs, she guessed it couldn’t have been more than five. Her head spun when she sat up to study the small rays of light filtering through her curtains.

Her bedside clock read 6:57, and although no one would kill her for sleeping a few more hours, she was positive she wouldn’t be able to fall back into her dreams. For the first time, she disliked her temporary reprieve from work at the Ministry. Her boss at the Department for Magical Law Enforcement had told her to “take off as many weeks as she wished”, but she suddenly realized that a strict, regular work routine was just the medicine she needed.

Regardless of her temporary “holiday”, Hermione realized with a sickening sensation that it was quite possible for her to never return to work again. If Malfoy kidnapped her for good and she was either killed by the Neo-Death Eaters or forever on the run from them, having a normal life with a job, husband and family were next to impossible…

Stop it! she cried out in her mind as her eyes stung with oncoming tears. She glanced away from the full-length mirror in her bedroom and concentrated on combing through her long, frizzy brown hair. You can’t jump to conclusions and throw your life away like that! Whatever happens will happen, and you can neither stop the future nor think the rest of your life is destroyed.

Soon it was difficult to keep up her positive thinking, so instead she froze her mind – which was becoming easier by the minute – and headed downstairs for a quick breakfast. Her stomach was not willing to digest anything that morning, but she had to keep up some resemblances to a normal routine for Harry, Ron and the rest.

Ron. She groaned even thinking his name. She had had no time to contemplate over the “Lucy situation” with all the Draco Malfoy crap in her life. Perhaps, if nothing happened within the next few days, she’d be able to get some real answers out of her boyfriend. But Ron had been unwilling to bring up the topic as well, so both of them were giving the other a wide berth. They both refused to pass the invisible line of separation between them, but Hermione preferred it that way, at least now when she had more pressing concerns to deal with.

“Morning, Hermione,” Harry greeted her as she entered the Weasleys’ kitchen to find only Harry and Ginny seated at the table. Harry was reading the Daily Prophet with deep concentration while Ginny was taking small bites out of her toast.

“Good morning,” she murmured, darting straight for the cabinet to prepare a quick bowl of cereal. She hoped both of them were too preoccupied on something else to notice her red, puffy eyes.

Harry disappointed her.

“’Mione, are you feeling okay? You look dead tired.”

Hermione sighed deeply as she noisily poured wheat oats into a bowl. “I’ve just had some things on my mind.”

She tried to ignore Harry’s deep gaze on her as she fetched milk from the fridge. “Hermione, you don’t have to worry about Malfoy,” Harry said softly. “He can’t hurt you when you’re being guarded like this. That’s why the Weasleys agreed to keep you here instead of allowing you to return to your flat…”

“I know, Harry; I don’t want to talk about it,” she grumbled, not catching his eye as she sat down at the far end of the table and stuffed the oats into her mouth. Intent on changing the topic, she caught Ginny focusing on the kitchen cabinets like they were a fascinating 3D display.

“Ginny, what’s up with you?”

Ginny turned slowly toward her. Hermione noticed for the first time that there was a faint green tint to her normally flushed face. She, too, had bags under her eyes like she had gotten as little sleep as Hermione.

“Oh, it’s nothing, Hermione. I’m just a little sleep deprived.”

Hermione frowned, holding her spoon a few inches from her mouth. Obviously it was not “nothing,” but Hermione couldn’t figure out what could be bothering her. It couldn’t be Malfoy; Ginny didn’t know the extent of his influence in Hermione’s life.

Harry, noticing the awkward exchange, put down his paper and took Ginny’s hand tenderly. “You’ve got Hermione all rattled now, hun. She thinks it’s more serious than it is.”

Hermione completely forgot her own problems as she watched this strange conversation unfold. “Then tell me, Ginny, if it’s not a big deal,” she urged. “I desperately need a distraction from my own issues.”

Ginny smiled weakly, a twinkle in her eye as she gazed adoringly at her husband. “I guess we’d better tell her since Ron already knows. Go ahead, Harry, if you wish.”

Hermione was a little ticked off at this. What information had Ronald received that she hadn’t been privileged to?

Harry had the same glimmer of delight in his eyes as he said, “Ginny’s pregnant, Hermione. We’re going to have a baby!”

Something hard hit Hermione’s stomach and her jaw dropped low as she processed Harry’s words. “What? Pregnant? How did…I mean, when did you find this out?”

“Just two days ago,” Ginny replied, carefully studying Hermione’s reaction. “We didn’t want to make it a big deal, seeing as this whole affair with Malfoy is more important…”

“No! I mean, it shouldn’t be. This is great news, Ginny…Harry. I’m so happy for both of you, I’m just a little…taken aback. I didn’t think it would happen so soon!” And both Harry and Ginny knew she was telling the truth by the way her words rushed out in stammers and pauses. Hermione wasn’t known for being at a loss for words.

Ginny smiled warmly at her. “Thank you, Hermione. It came as a shock for us, too, but the more time that passes the more excited we are. We had always planned on having a family early on.”

Hermione didn’t know what else to say as she finished her breakfast. The unexpected news brought about so many new, foreign emotions…not all of them positive. Yes, she was more than happy for Harry and Ginny, but she had always figured that she’d be at the same “stage” as them when they had kids. She had imagined for years that she’d get pregnant around the same time as Ginny (with Ron being the father, of course), and their kids would grow up together and be kissin’ cousins.

But she wasn’t even engaged to Ron yet, and this difficult time in their relationship made her wonder if they’d ever reach the marriage stage. Was this simply a “jolt” in her and Ron’s relationship, an unpleasant obstacle that they could overcome, or was this the beginning of the end?

Harry and Ginny noticed her forlorn expression, so Ginny (who had probably guessed rightly at the reason for Hermione’s tension), changed the subject. Hermione breathed a sigh of relief as they spoke of new issues at the Ministry, laws being passed, and how the community viewed the new leadership.

Hermione was able to tune out most of their chatter until Ron entered the kitchen, trailed by George. Ron and Hermione ignored each other’s presence like the other was a ghost, but George smiled and squeezed Hermione’s shoulder as he walked by.

“Mornin’, Hermione. You look right and peppy this morning.”

Hermione tried not to scowl as she replied, “Not everyone is a morning person, George.”

George chuckled as he reached into the fridge. “Hear you loud and clear. I’ve had to put up with Ron’s foul morning attitude since his early teenage years…”

Ron glowered at his brother, but George ignored him as well as Hermione.

Harry apparently couldn’t resist joining in. “I didn’t think his negativity only occurred in the morning, George. Sometimes it’s a 24-hour thing…”

Ron whacked Harry across the top of his head, making Harry laugh and swat back at him.

Hermione’s jaw tightened and she couldn’t hold back. “Leave him alone, guys. No one should have to put up with your mockery this early in the morning.”

Ron looked up and smiled weakly at her, but Hermione quickly dropped her gaze and stood to place her bowl in the dishwasher.

“You look knackered, too, Hermione,” George commented. “Out clubbing last night?”

Hermione groaned. “I wish.”

She could feel Ron’s eyes on her back, which she tried her best to ignore. She inhaled deeply and turned to face him, and surprisingly Ron kept eye contact. His eyes were deep and serious, and suddenly Hermione knew what she wanted to do. It was time to get it over with…

“Ronald, may I talk to you?”

He winced slightly at her overly formal words, but nodded and cocked his head toward the stairs behind him. She ignored everyone else’s intent stares and slowly following her boyfriend up the stairs and into his own bedroom.

Famous Quidditch players and teams stared down at her with stern eyes, and Hermione wouldn’t have been surprised if they moved and folded their arms across their chests in judgment.

Ron spread out his arms in expectation. “Well? How would you like to start off this row?”

Hermione closed her eyes in exhaustion. Opening them, she struggled to find the strength to keep her voice even. “Ron, I’m sorry for all this tension, but I don’t know how to make it stop. This whole…event with Lucy has come at a terrible time. I would normally try to nail down the problem and fix it straightaway, but my mind has been preoccupied with Draco Malfoy.”

Ron’s thick eyebrows lowered over his eyes. “What in Merlin’s name is his problem? It seems he’s just trying to mess things up without a single reason to do so. Have you realized how many precautions Harry has undertaken because of Malfoy’s rubbish? My house is now under constant surveillance and an alarm system is running 24/7.”

Hermione shook her head desolately. “I’m sorry, Ron, I really am. I don’t like to be causing trouble, but…I don’t understand it, either. Malfoy’s doing something more than just his normal antics, and I’m afraid that it has something to do with me. Maybe it would be better…if I were not here at all. I’m causing you lot more grief than it’s worth.”

The first sign of compassion appeared in his eyes, and Ron stepped forward and put his hands on her shoulders. “’Mione, don’t talk like that. You’re not a burden to any of us; it all has to do with that son of a bitch.”

“Don’t say that, Ron,” she said instantly, frowning with disapproval.

Ron’s brows sunk even lower. “Are you defending him?”

“Of course not! I just don’t like when you swear.”

The corner of Ron’s mouth twitched like the beginnings of a smile. “I’ve heard you say a few not-so-dignified words now and then.”

“Don’t change the topic!”

All signs of a smile disappeared. “And what is the topic? What do you want me to say?”

“Oh, I dunno,” she spat, feeling herself lose a bit of control over her emotions. “You could tell me what you think of today’s weather, talk about the winning team’s strategy during last night’s football match…or you could explain why you decided to nip out with a girl while I was living in England’s personal hell!”

Ron’s body stiffened and he released his hold on her. “What did Harry tell you?”

“That it was an innocent affair, that the girl liked you more than you liked her, but I need to hear it from you, Ron. I can’t believe you weren’t the first person to approach me with the information!”
“I was going to, after you had settled down for a bit!” Ron exclaimed defensively. “Sorry for showing a little bit of consideration while you recovered!”

“I would have recovered better if you had been honest with me straightaway. I don’t like to walk around the house feeling like I’m invisible to you!”

Ron groaned, stepping away and pacing the room in agitation. “I don’t have a guidebook to explain to me the perfect actions, Hermione! I’m sorry that I’m not perfect, but neither are you.”

“You’re avoiding the point again, Ron! What is this about Lucy?”

He stopped pacing and placed his hands in his pockets. He didn’t look her in the eye. “Nothing happened between us, Hermione. I met her in London one evening and helped her pick something out for her mum. She was so thankful that she bought me coffee, and I was stupid enough to keep quiet and not push her away when she became flirtatious. She thought my silence meant I felt something for her, and I never told her the truth because I knew she was travelling back to Wales soon. I don’t think she’ll return to England anytime soon, so I didn’t think it was a big deal.”

Hermione massaged her temples wearily. “Fine. Whatever. Thanks for telling me.”

Ron frowned at her agitated tone. “Hermione, please don’t make a big deal out of this. It’s not something to get stressed out over.”

She remained silent, so he felt the need to continue. “I care about you, Hermione, and I’m sorry that I don’t tell you that very often. These past few weeks have scared the shit out of me, and if I lose you…Let’s just put this behind us and start again.”

Hermione sighed. “Give me some time, Ron. I can’t just jump back to who I was before. This whole situation has…put me on edge. And you gallivanting with other girls doesn’t help.”

He pursed his lips. “It won’t happen again, Hermione. I won’t do anything again that will make you upset.”

Hermione tried her best to smile at him. “I’d appreciate that.”

*

He came for her at midnight.

The entire household was awoken to a shuddering blast out in the yard. Before Hermione could completely convince herself that she wasn’t dreaming, Ron rushed into her room still in his pyjamas with a stark white face.

“Get out of bed, Hermione! The front yard is on fire and it’s gonna spread!”
Ron had to physically pull Hermione off her bed, for her mind couldn’t catch up with his words. Ron dragged her out of the bedroom, down the stairs, and out the back door where the rest of the Weasleys and Harry were congregated. They were all shaking in the night chill, most of them in their dressing gowns.

“What happened?” she asked anyone who would reply.

Harry’s face was tense as he studied her. “Someone, most likely a pleasant lad named Malfoy, started a magical fire around the house.”

“What? A fire? But…why aren’t you doing anything?”

Harry continued to analyze her, which made her unconsciously shrink closer to Ron. “Did you hear what I said? It’s a magical fire, which means it’s already spread as far as it will go. We’re waiting for the Ministry to come and clear it up.”

Ron glared at Harry. “You didn’t tell me that! I thought it was a real one!”

Harry shook his head, distracted as he studied the bright flames devouring the many acres around the house.

Hermione still couldn’t comprehend. Her mind was fuzzy from sleep. “But…why would Malfoy do this? It obviously had to have some purpose.”

Ron chuckled humourlessly. “With Malfoy, nothing he does has to have a purpose. He does it just to cause a little bit of fright.”

Almost as soon as Ron finished speaking, another deafening blast exploded to their right…only a few feet from where they stood.

Hermione screamed as Ron pushed her to the ground, but heat and smoke made movement almost impossible. She cried out at the black space for someone to find her, but this merely caused more smoke to rush down her throat. She coughed harshly, her eyes stinging unbearably and forcing her to squeeze them shut.

Just when she feared staying incapacitated forever, an arm grabbed her around the waist and pulled her out of the smoke and flame.

“Ron?” she choked, forcing her eyes open to slits to see her rescuer.

Her eyes didn’t obey, they only caused her more agony. So she forced them shut again, relaxing her body as her saviour took her out into the fresh air.

Her feet landed on solid ground when a deep, drawling voice made her body tense up all over again.

“Wishful thinking, Granger,” Malfoy spoke softly in her ear. “You didn’t really think I’d leave you alone for long? Say good-bye to the Weasleys, Granger…for it’ll be a long time before you see them again.”