Chapter 16 Hearts Can Be Mended

A lone ray of sunshine glittered through the gap in the drapes and caught the cheek of a woman lying alone in a bed meant for two. Perhaps she awoke to the warmth stroking her face, like a mothers hand to a babe. But this woman knew that no mother was here to console her, no boyfriend there to hug and kiss her good morning.

No.

Hermione Granger was alone.

"Really Harry, I'm fine," Hermione said, holding the cell phone to her ear with her shoulder as she poured herself some coffee. She stood in her kitchen, wearing her pyjamas and fluffy socks. Her hair was unkempt and unruly. "I've gotten so much done in the last few days."

"Reading books is not getting much done. Come on Hermione, we haven't seen you-"

"Harry, I'm busy. My life can't just stop because… well you know."

She could hear Harry sigh on the other end of the phone. "Yeah, I know."

Hermione took her cup of coffee and headed back into her bedroom, under the warmth and protective embrace of her duvet. "I should get back to my work now Harry."

"Will you be coming over on Friday? It's pretty important."

"I'll try."

Harry sighed. "Alright Hermione. Please remember we're here for you too."

"I know. Thanks Harry." Hermione hung up and sipped her coffee before opening her laptop to watch movies all day and not eat or take care of herself. She had every owl from work rerouted to her house so her memos were quickly piling up on her desk through the course of the day. And like the many days before, Hermione stayed in her bed as the sky outside turned dark and she fell asleep with the laptop screen flickering beside her.

Ginny's style wasn't gentle. She drew the curtains fast, like ripping off a bandaid. She then sat, none too gently, on the bed where Hermione was groggily waking up from having blinding light shone in her eyes.

"Well, I see you were busy with work," Ginny said, gesturing to her desk that was so overflown with letters some had slid down to the floor.

"Ginny I-"

"You didn't show up Hermione."

"Shit, is it Saturday?"

"Yes it's Saturday. I get that you're going through a hard time but we're your friends, your family! Come to us for help. You can talk to me, or Harry."

Hermione sighed and pushed herself up. "I'm not really the talkative type Ginny."

"Neither am I. How often do I go play quidditch instead of talking about my rage? We're all shit at it Hermione, but we can be shit at it together." Ginny sighed. "Look, I'm not trying to be in your face, you know? That's just me. I'm worried about you, we all are. This isn't like you." She gestured around the room. "So, talk to me, please."

Hermione rubbed her tired face and then looked down at her lap. "I've cried too much Ginny." She sighed again, looking up at her. "These past few years there's just been so much to cry about and I just want it to stop. All of it. I want to not care so much. So that's what I'm doing."

"Your solution is to shut off your emotions?"

Hermione shrugged. "Yeah."

"That's not good enough Hermione!"

"Well why not?" She demanded.

"Because I'm engaged and I need my best friend to be excited with me!"

Hermione was gobsmacked. "Engaged?" She stared at Ginny. "Oh my god you guys got engaged?!" Hermione tackled Ginny into a hug. "I'm so happy for you!"

Ginny laughed. "Thank you. But I need my best friend to be of sane mind, otherwise she can't be my maid of honour."

Hermione shook her head. "Ginny, I can't be your maid of honour, Ron will be Harry's best man… it'll be weird."

"Look," Ginny said, taking her hands. "By the time the wedding comes around all of this will be behind us. I know it. And you guys are, hopefully, mature enough to set it aside for one day at least. For me and Harry."

"Of course." Hermione smiled. "I can't believe I didn't see this coming. Harry's not very good with keeping secrets."

Ginny grinned. "That's because I asked him. You know how he is, can run headfirst into danger without thinking twice but is so timid with all things romantic." She shook her head. "I wasn't going to wait for my life to be in danger for him to propose."

They laughed and hugged again.

"Please take care of yourself, Hermione. We care about you so much. You don't have to do this alone. I know Ron's my brother, but that doesn't mean we have to pick sides."

"You don't know all of it Ginny… everyone should be on Ron's side…"

"Harry told me most of it," she said gently. "I'd like to understand, more than anything else. I'm not here to judge you. That's not what friends do. We've been through enough shittyness, there's no need to add to it."

"Since when did you get so wise?" Hermione scoffed. "I thought I was supposed to be the smart one. But I guess with all of this, that's flown out the window anyway."

"Hey, you're not allowed to put yourself down like that." Ginny squeezed her hand and stood up. "Plus, I guess being promoted to captain of the Holy Head Harpies can make someone wise."

"Ginny!" Hermione leapt out of bed to hug her again. "That's amazing!"

"I know! I'm gonna take the Harpies to the top Hermione. The sky is literally the limit." Ginny laughed. "I'm sorry, I know you don't like to talk about quidditch."

"When it's about you getting the most important position at your club, I don't mind it one bit. We should go celebrate." Ginny raised an eyebrow at her. "Ahh, that's what last night was supposed to be. I'm sorry. I'll make it up to you."

"Make it up to me by fixing this," she said while gesturing to Hermione's current state of dress and overall appearance. "Be Hermione Granger again, war heroine. She's in there somewhere. Harry and I can see her, you need to be able to see her too."

"Thanks for coming over to see me Ginny. I'll do my best." She sighed. "I guess staying in a rut won't help much will it? But it's a lot of fun. Depressed fun, but yeah."

"Come out to dinner with us after my game next Saturday. You know, to prove you're still alive and all."

"Okay, deal."

Once Ginny had left Hermione crawled back into her bed and guiltily eyed the stack of papers on her desk. Deep inside she knew Ginny was right. But there was something, something stronger than her that kept her in bed. Like chains wrapped around her stomach holding her captive to her bed. She wasn't scared of it, that weight that held her there. It comforted her. It kept her safe from everything else. Those stacks of notes kept piling up, as if they were piling on top of her, burying her alive. Her responsibilities were too much for her to handle outside of this room. She wasn't the Hermione Granger she wanted to be anymore. The one people thought she was. Her opinion of herself was abysmal. To put it formally. Or academically, as came natural to her. God she even hated her inner monologue.

She was pathetic.

A crying, whimpering, pathetic mess.

She couldn't stand it.

So she stood up.

Because actually

Fuck all of that.

She was Hermione fucking Granger. Depression wouldn't beat her, she'd fought harder battles than this. This was a different kind of battle, but she'd beat this too.

So she got dressed. She rifled through the giant, impossible stack of notes and disappeared into her work.

"How are you?" Ron asked her as they stood together outside the Burrow.

"Not great," Hermione said with a shrug. "But, better than before."

Ron nodded in understanding. Hermione supposed he had gone through something similar. She tried to adjust the pin in her hair that held it away from her face but it seemed to slip down everytime.

"Can I help?" Ron offered. Hermione nodded and let him fix the pin in her hair. "It's really strange to think this is actually happening, you know? I keep thinking back to before fourth year, before the whole quidditch world cup thing, when you and Harry came to stay here and Ginny was too shy to be around him." He chuckled and let his arms fall once the clip was in place. "Just dumb teenagers."

"A slightly simpler time." Hermione agreed.

"Have you uhm," Ron began, then cleared his throat. "Are you with… him now?"

She could see he obviously felt uncomfortable asking the question but was trying to be cautious, maybe even supportive, in a way.

"No, I haven't heard from him this past year."

Ron nodded, then gave her a wistful smile. "You look beautiful."

"Thank you Ron." She smiled back and then gave him a hug. The first proper one since they broke up. First one that didn't feel forced or half-hearted in a year. "You look very handsome. I'm glad for you by the way, I hadn't had the chance to say before. You're happy right?"

Ron gave a sheepish smile, always awkward when it came to this sort of thing. "Yeah, I'm happy. Thanks."

Hermione watched him glance into the row of seats for silky black hair. It was true, she was happy for him. But she also envied him. He had no guilt weighing him down and keeping him from finding love. Which was an unfair comparison, but during a wedding you can so easily feel bitter about your past. But today, she would let go of that.

The wedding went ahead and soon everyone was dancing or eating, mingling and laughing. Hermione sat at a table with some Weasleys and watched the dancers. The garden had been decorated with twinkling lights and little golden snitches flitting about in the air. It was increasingly more magical as the night grew darker and colder. Harry and Ginny barely let go of each other the whole night, swaying on the dance floor or holding hands as people queued to congratulate them. Hermione danced with George who pulled her to the dance floor and then proceeded to do a jig like a river dance. Then Arthur asked her for a dance and they swayed politely whilst talking about his newest muggle contraption discovery. All of it was a lovely affair. When most of the guests had left to their homes, Harry came over to ask for a dance. They danced in silence with smiles on their faces because look at them now. No longer teenagers on the run, trying to cheer each other up by dancing in a tent, but becoming adults whose lives were turning into something that could be happy and peaceful.

"You can be happy Hermione," Harry said in her ear. "Why aren't you allowing yourself to be happy? You've always striven for equality, and been a voice against discrimination even against Death Eaters at trials because you said they deserved fair ones. Give yourself that fair trial too. You deserve happiness just as much as the next person, no matter what you've done. Especially because of everything you've been through. You've both been through." He gave her a look. "I'm sure I've said this before Hermione, but we are your family and we will accept you and whoever you choose to love. Even the Weasleys. Even if it's a Malfoy."

Hermione hiccuped a laugh. "You are ridiculously sentimental Harry James Potter."

"It's Harry James Potter hyphen Weasley now," he said with a grin and she smacked his shoulder.

"Stop it," she admonished with a smile.

"You should go Hermione. Really. What's holding you back?"

"It's an awful idea, for one."

"Who says? It's all in your head." Harry shrugged and twirled her around.

Hermione shook her head and hugged him when the music stopped. "Congratulations Harry. Today has been magical."

Soon he was pulled away again by another congratulator. Hermione headed back towards her seat at the now empty table. She took her purse and slowly moved it around in her hands, looking around and realising this wasn't what she wanted - what Harry and Ginny had. Because it was all different wasn't it? Her love was different because it involved different people and different circumstances. Twinkling lights in a garden wedding wasn't something she wanted. In true Hermione Granger fashion she wanted something a lot more complicated than that. She wanted to mend her heart.

She didn't say goodbye, but turned round and walked out of the garden, leaving behind her shawl. She reached the apparition point and felt the world consume her in a flash and she was at a different house she knew well. She knocked on the front door decisively. And waited. Then there was an awful clench in her stomach, how foolish of her to assume he would be home, she wasn't even sure if he still lived there. She was about to turn around to leave for her foolishness when she heard the lock clicking.

There he stood, wearing a black shirt, unbuttoned at the top as if he had loosened a tie from the collar recently. It was unfair to always look so pristinely put together, so regal almost. The light shone behind him, illuminating his silhouette, that she hadn't seen for a year.

She was being ridiculous, coming here so late at night, straight from a wedding no less.

But he was there. Right there.

"Draco," she said, breaking the silence that felt like it had gone on forever. And she planned on saying more but nothing came out.

"You're looking… fancy." Was the first thing he said to her. And she had to laugh at the ridiculousness of it.

"Yeah uhm… Harry and Ginny got married today."

"Huh," he said, his eyebrows raising on his forehead. "Good for them."

"I should have floo'd or something, asked first if I could come over instead of ambushing you all of a sudden."

He nodded, crossing his arms and leaning against the doorframe, just looking at her. It was unnerving. She couldn't read him at all. But despite her nerves she had finally found her Gryffindor courage. If she got rejected then so be it.

"Look," she started. "I was an idiot, who didn't know how to handle any kind of situation. And I handled it all very poorly."

"Granger, did you come here, this late, to tell me you're stupid?"

"No." She sighed. "I'm just, ugh." She groaned, feeling like she was completely messing this up. "Can you stop?" She grabbed his arms to uncross them and shoved him away from the doorframe, then poked him in the chest repeatedly, forcing him to back up into the house. "With this bravado facade. It's annoying, and frankly I came here to apologise and open up to you and you're just going to stand there all detached? No. This has to work both ways. We've been through absolute shit together and apart and I deserve to at least have a two way street thing going on. If I'm opening up then you should too. It's good for you anyway. And how dare you call me by my last name again? As if we don't have all this history?"

"Granger," he said while she poked him and ranted. "Granger - Hermione!"

"What?" She demanded.

"You're infuriating."

"Yeah, well you're-"

"I'm not done," he said. "You're stubborn, and yes, the smartest idiot I know."

"Was that a compliment?"

"Arrogant, big-headed-"

"Look if you're gonna continue talking about yourself Draco I might as well leave you alone with a mirror."

"Come here," he grabbed her waist and pulled her towards him. "I hope part of why you came here is because you miss me. Because I missed you Hermione."

She smiled, and settled into his embrace, stroking her hands up his arms and looking up into his grey eyes. "Of course I missed you, you dolt. I love you."

He chuckled. "I love you too, you twat."

"You say the sexiest things," Hermione said with a smile, leaning up to touch her lips to his.

"It's a special kind of foreplay." Draco chuckled with his lips still on hers, a hand resting on her back. "I'm glad you came back."

They rested their foreheads together.

"I'm sorry it took me so long."

Draco shook his head. "Things take time. We've both had a bad couple of years. I was a dick to you when all you wanted was to help me."

"But-"

"Yeah the circumstances weren't ideal, but I was bitter and taking it out on you. Shouldn't have. I just didn't understand." He shrugged.

Hermione nodded. "That's okay." She took a deep breath, hugging him to her. "I've missed your hugs."

He chuckled. "Good," he said and held her tighter.

They stood there for a while, holding each other. Re-familiarizing themselves with their embrace, the way their bodies aligned and fitted. The exact movements needed to stroke a nose against a cheek, or lips to lips. Rediscovering what taut muscle and smooth skin felt like under their fingertips. Finding out again what made the heart burn and mend back together through touch and kisses scattered over a naked body. Where each curve, each dip was a symphony you had to dip down to hear. Every sound, every moan was an applause because it made the heart flutter with want, with need, with yes- this is what I needed. Yes- this is what I have wanted all along. Because this is what we needed for our hearts to mend. To take piece by piece from each other and rebuild them anew. For when our limbs are tangled in sheets, our bodies sweating, our lungs panting and reaching for air that only you can give - life only you can give - that is what it means to mend a broken heart.

Author's note: Well, here we are. The end. Eight years and three rewrites later. This story took so many turns I hadn't expected (or wanted, hence all the rewrites), and this is definitely not how I imagined it would end eight years ago. But then again, when I started this story I was seventeen. I hope whoever reads this enjoyed it. I know that Hermione can be a bit whiny in this story and I got some bad reviews for that, but I felt the story caused her to be. That was my interpretation anyway. Thank you for sticking with me and this story if you've been here since 2012, or if you just discovered it. It's the first story I really finish outside of school, and I'm actually kind of happy with how it turned out.

xoxo Kete