“Iwantedtotalktoyou,too.”Shestreamrollsahead,everythingcomingoutinarush.“Ronhadnoright,absolutelynone,andItriedtotalktohim,buthejustcan’tseemtoseesense,youknowhowstubbornheis—”
“Hermione—”
“AndItoldhimthatwewerefriendsandbehaviorlikethatwouldnotbetoleratedinthefuture,Ihavenoideawhatcameoverhim—”
“Hermione—”
“Itwasinexcusable,andIjustwanttosaythatI,forone,amsorrythatyouweretreatedlikethatwhenyouwereaguestinmyhouse.”
“Hermione.”Hereachedoutandcaughtherhandsinhisown,stoppingthemfromflyingaroundherheadalongwithherwords.“It’sfine.Whathedid,isfine.Iwantedyoutoknowthat.”
“It’snot.”Shewasbreathingheavilyagain,angryasshealwaysisatanyhintofinjustice.“Completely—”
“Don’t.Helovesyou.”Hesqueezedherhands,andshelaughedshakily,hereyesbrimmingoverwithtears.Shewasalwaysextraordinarilyeasytomakecry,buthenolongersawitasaweakness.“Helovesyou,andIstoodbywhileyouwerehurtwhenIcouldhavestoppedit,andIwascruelevenwhenitwassimplertobekind.I’dhateme,too.”
“Hedoesn’thateyou.”Itwasapatheticandseeflimsyexcuse,andshebegantofalterassoonasthewordslefthermouth.“He’sonlystubborn.He’llcomearound.”
“Iwouldactthesameway.”Ron,atleast,wassomeonehecouldunderstand.Hatred,anger,pain—thesearelanguagesthatheknowswell.“IfsomeonehurtsomebodyIlovelikeIdidtoyou.”
“Wewerechildren.”Shewipedathereyes,andthensmiled,wickedly,inawaythatwasshockinglysimilartoPansy.“Andwhohaveyouloved,anyways,Draco?”Shelaughedwhenhereddened.“Don’tbeshy,who’stheluckygirl?”
“Boys.”Hedidn’treallymeantosayit,exceptthatforgivenesswasabitterpilltoswallowandsharinghissecretswashisonlywayofrepayingit,ofshowingthathetrustedher,too.“Oneboy,actually.”
Dracohadsurprisedher.“Oh?”Andthen,whentherewasanexceptionallyloudburstofHarry’slaughterfromthedoorway,accompaniedbySeamus’Irishaccent(theywerehangingouttogetherforthefirsttimesincetheincident),somethinginherfacesoftenedandtheconfusioncleared.Shealwayshadseenmorethanhewantedtoshow,hadalwaysknownmorethananyonepersonshouldbeabletofigureout,andsomeflickerofthetruthmusthavespreadacrosshisface.“Oh,Draco.”
Shefeltbadforhim.
(That’sfine.She’snotwrong.Dracofeelsbadforhimselfallthetime.Itreallyisahopelesssituation.)
“Iknow.”Hemakeshimselfsmile,andthensqueezesherhand,once,twice.There’salumpinhisthroatandheswallowsitdown,becausethisisanotheroneofthosetimesthatmakeshimacutelyashamedofhispastactions,whenherealizedthattheycouldhavebeenthisgoodoffriendsfromtheverybeginning.Maybe,withsomeoneasbraveandgoodasherinhiscorner,thestorywouldn’thaveendedupthesame.“SoIknow.Iwouldhavereactedthesameway.”
Shemakesanothertinynoiselikethatpainedher,andthenshesetouttosmoothhishairdowninawaythathehadseenherdotoHarry.Dracoshakesheroff,andsetsaboutcuttingupthegooseliverforthenewpotion.
“Don’tworryaboutme.”Hissmilefeelsalittlecrooked.“We’lljustgetthepotionsdone,yeah?”
Heransweringissmileisjustaswobbly,butwhenshetakestheknifefromhistremblingfingers,herhandsaresteady.
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