No Longer Helpless

Chapter Twenty-Nine
Better Friends Than Lovers

Ron paced and fumed, neither of which did anything to ease his mood. There was something far more unsettling about Hermione and Malfoy being partners now than there had been last night.

It hadn’t been until after the first ten minutes of wearing a pattern into the rug in front of the heart in the Gryffindor common room that he realized what it was. Ginny had said it. Malfoy and Hermione were friends. Being friends meant she felt the same way for the Slytherin as she did for him, and that slimy git felt the same way for her as he did. In other words, Malfoy was definitely smitten with Hermione, just like himself.

Dammit. Six years and he was nothing more than her friend. That no-good-blond-pretty-boy was closer to having Hermione than he was, and that bastard had been calling her names since he first met her. How twisted was that?

What if all the name calling had just been schoolyard bullying and a cover up for a crush? No, that wasn’t possible. Malfoy had been too cruel and ruthless. The ice prince had a countenance that could not be a lie. If it hadn’t been a lie, then why had the blond boy changed?

Everyone knew that Hermione was his, or would be. Ron had had a crush on Hermione for so long that he couldn’t pin point the year or time. The fact that he’d already loved her as a friend only added to the flames of desire as they’d grown up together.

At seventeen, he was almost a man and didn’t have crushes. Crushes were for boys. He was in love, and with the most beautiful and kindhearted girl in the entire wizarding world.

Now he had Malfoy treading on marked territory. It hadn’t been Ron’s plan to move his relationship with Hermione along until after they had graduated and killed Voldemort. Well, in truth he hadn’t even given it much thought. His feelings were sort of factual and less emotional. Everyone knew he liked… loved Hermione. And everyone knew they’d end up being together. So, what was the point in planning anything out when it was going to happen anyway?

Doubts were forming, doubts in the form of his least favorite Slytherin. There were so many reasons why Ron felt threatened. Among them was the fact that while Ginny had only applied the term ‘friends’ to the relationship, it was the same term used to describe his current relationship with Hermione.

Somehow, Malfoy had created the same standing with the girl in a matter of months. Another fear was of Malfoy’s legendary appeal. There didn’t seem to be a witch in Hogwarts who didn’t drool over the proclaimed sex god of Slytherin, even girls in Gryffindor. If he had to fight for her love with that blonde haired ferret, then what would the result be?

‘No!’ he told himself. They were just friends, if even that. There was no possible way Hermione held the git in as high regards of love and affection as she did himself. ‘No way,’ he assured.

It wasn’t long before Ron started to feel worn out from his high-strung pacing, and took an armchair beside the warm hearth. He stared into the flames while brooding. Already his mind had formed various plans and plots to rid Hermione of Malfoy’s presence. Always in each scenario he envisioned at least one solid punch to the ferret’s face, while he stood the victor and protector of Hermione.

**

Hermione arrived outside the portrait of the fat lady, who seemed surprised at her sudden appearance.

“M’lady,” Hermione spoke eloquently with a bow.

The painted woman blushed furiously and fanned herself with a nearby feather. “Oh my, what a little darling you are this year Hermione,” she said in a giddy singsong voice.

“I’m in a great hurry, so I must pass quickly. But I am overjoyed at seeing you so sooner than usual. Perhaps later this evening we could chat and you could sing a few notes for me.” Butter the plump woman up and get her the open the door without the proper password.

“Why of course dear. I would love nothing more,” she spoke gaily, allowing the darling girl to enter her house common room.

“Many thanks,” Hermione called behind herself as she quietly stepped forth into the Gryffindor tower. It was truly a wonder how someone like Sirius couldn’t manage that, he’d had more charm in him than anyone else, except maybe Draco.

Cautiously, wondering if Ron was perhaps sulking in the vacant boy’s dormitory, she stepped out of the small alcove and into the common room. Eyes searching, it didn’t take her long to spot Ron. Though his red hair stuck out in most instances, among the gold and red decorum, he very nearly blended right in. All she could see was the back of his head sitting in his favorite armchair.

‘Oh boy,’ she thought. Even from across the room, she could feel the dark aura around him. This was not going to be easy.

Ron never heard Hermione enter or approach. The only indication that he wasn’t alone any more was when she placed a gentle hand on his shoulder and whispered his name. He was jerked from his reverie, but his body stayed calm and didn’t jump. Her small form walked around and took a chair opposite him.

Remaining silent, Hermione sat down in as unthreatening a manner as possible. Legs folded beneath her, she leaned heavily onto the armrest. ‘Approach every matter with caution and care, even those involving the people close to you,’ Moody’s words rang in her head.

She sniggered inwardly now as she remembered Draco’s snarky retort to what Moody had said in that instance. ‘That include you old man?’ Draco had then proceeded to pull Hermione’s arm and try to walk away while murmuring just loud enough for the older Auror to hear, ‘Come on Granger, that means we can’t trust this old fool.’ Of course he’d been trying to skip out early from practice, but the way Moody exploded was hilarious. Draco was always trying to get a rise out of everyone around him, as if to prove that he was calm and collected while everyone else had no control. Whenever it involved Moody it was most amusing.

Shaking her head, she cleared her mind of all thoughts concerning Draco. The last thing she needed was for Ron to feel she wasn’t focused on him right now. She couldn’t imagine what he might have to say if he knew where her mind was wandering off to.

It was difficult trying to handle Ron as though he weren’t her best friend, but rather like some random person she was attempting to negotiate with. In truth, calming Ron down from one of his more severe tempers was very much like negotiating. But, when she stopped to analyze it, she felt guilty. This was Ron, and regardless of what Moody had told her, she could never view him as anything but her best friend.

She softened her features and allowed her body and mind to accept that she was in the presence of a dear friend. Now the question was whether or not to be blunt or tip toe around the facts.

Opting for bluntness, since that was how she usually was when she and Ron had a row, she asked, “Ron, are you angry with me?”

Silence followed, which made Hermione most unsettled. Ron just stared into the fire, his eyes darker than she’d ever seen them before. His face was fierce in thought.

In the next moment Ron leapt to his feet and towered over Hermione, anger flashing violently in his features. “Angry? I’m not angry Hermione. I’m bloody furious!” he shouted at her.

Remaining collected, she tilted her head upwards to meet his eyes better, and asked, “What are you angry about?”

He just stared her for a moment, clenching and unclenching his jaw. “The FUCKING FERRET!” he finally yelled.

Upon seeing his jaw muscles tighten and relax, she started to squirm a bit, then as he yelled she sank back into the seat cushions as far as she could go. “Ron, I thought you agreed that it was okay for me to train with him as my partner.”

Now Ron bent over, placing his arms on each armrest and leaning in close. “Yes, but that agreement had nothing, nothing, to do with you guys being friends,” he bit out scathingly, as his face grew dark.

Pressed back against the seat in a cowering manner that she couldn’t stand, Hermione furrowed her brows while her deep brown eyes searched Ron’s dark blue ones. “Malfoy is a good guy. He’s my partner and, yes, he is my friend. I know how you feel about him. No one’s asking you to be friends with him,” she spoke softly. ‘Though it would be nice,’ her mind added.

Ron leaned forward even more. Their faces were only a few short inches apart. “If he is your friend, then what am I?” he asked in a deep whisper, eyes darting to her lips, which seemed to be calling to him. It was time Hermione and him got together. With Malfoy in the picture, he couldn’t wait until after graduation.

Once Hermione saw his eyes glance to her lips she felt panic rise within her. “Ron, maybe you should sit down. We can talk about this,” she reasoned. When he made no move, save a slight waver back and then forward again, she coaxed more earnestly, “Just sit back, before you do something you regret.”

It was a terrible situation for Hermione. Her heart wanted absolutely no romantic strings attached to Ron, but it also could never hurt him. If he tried to kiss her, she was afraid she wouldn’t stop him, for fear it would hurt him. Somehow, she had to make him see reason, before he did something regrettable.

Time didn’t seem to flow in quite the right manner. It seemed a bit slow. Her eyes watched as Ron reached a hand out. She felt him stroke her cheek, it was then her eyes widened and she feared she might not be able to talk him down. His hand moved down to her jaw then her neck, and grasped a tendril of hair.

Right in that moment, Hermione lost hope of dissuading Ron and making him stop. He’d always been rash, most Gryffindors were. There was nothing she could do, if she didn’t want to hurt him. She’d always known or at least suspected that he had liked her on some level, more so in recent years. But, it had just been some silly crush, right? Now, maybe he was just jealous. Jealousy drove many people to do crazy things. Kissing a best friend would definitely be one of them.

As Ron leaned closer, Hermione silently prayed that after this they could still salvage their friendship. His lips were almost touching hers, and she squeezed her eyes shut, cringing back slightly, desperately wishing time would freeze and she could buy precious few seconds to think of a proper plan.

Having braced herself, her world had gone dark with her closed eyes and the only sound which had filled her ears was the heavy thudding of her heart, which was in her throat at the moment.

Hermione was mildly surprised when a hand, and not a pair of lips touched her mouth. Firm and warm, though slightly calloused, she knew it to be Draco’s hand. And then his familiar scent washed over her and she knew for certain it was him.

Aside from the fact that she couldn’t breath now, she was relieved beyond belief at the sudden interference.

“Weasley, if you kiss my hand, I may be forced to cut it off and kill you shortly after,” came a steely cold, venomous voice from behind the armchair in which Hermione sat.

Ron was back standing up straight as fast as he could. Unlike Harry, he could top Malfoy in height easily. His whole body seemed to shake with anger.

Hermione’s pupils dilated as she anticipated what her redheaded friend might do next. Did Draco even know what trouble he had walked into and was causing by being present? She wouldn’t have wished him gone though. At this moment, Draco was her savior. He’d just extricated her from a situation she’d seen no way out of.

“Get your hands off of HERMIONE! You Slytherin BASTARD!” Ron shouted.

Draco must have known that to not comply would just push him further, and at this point, the only place the berserk redhead could be pushed was right over the edge. His hand slowly unclamped and moved away from Hermione, who stood up from the chair.

‘Merlin!’ she thought. ‘What to do, what to do?” she questioned over and over. Each second that passed she knew brought some eminent fight between Ron and Draco closer. If Ron fought Draco, they’d never have a hope of becoming civil.

It was then an idea struck Hermione.

Thwack

The sound resounded, even in the well padded common room, which generally didn’t echo any noise.

Ron turned his head back to Hermione, sporting a reddening left cheek, where she had just slapped him.

Draco stared, now in amusement. This was turning into quite the show. Little Weasel got what he deserved, daring to kiss his partner like that.

With her hand still raised, palm open from her slap, she lowered it as she met Ron’s eyes. His eyes turned from fury to disbelief. It had been her intention to redirect Ron’s anger. If she could make herself to focus of his rage, then he wouldn’t tackle Draco and try to kill him.

“What was that for?” Ron asked, breaking the silence.

‘Umm,’ her mind searched. She couldn’t very well tell him it was so he wouldn’t fight Draco. Instead, she grabbed the most logical reasoning she could find. “For almost kissing me!” she huffed, putting her hands on her hips, as she’d seen Ginny and Mrs. Weasley do so many times. The effect fell miles short of the other two redheaded women. Hermione was too small and slender to give off a threatening demeanor. A pixie might as well do the same action to a Hippogriff.

Draco almost laughed at Hermione’s attempt to intimidate. As partners they each compensated for the other’s shortcomings. Intimidation was his job. His little kitten could scarcely frighten a butterfly away, what with her soft and beautiful features and small frame. Not that she couldn’t kick any bloke’s arse, but she wouldn’t be able to frighten them away before hand.

Ron seemed to find some amusement in it as well. He smiled at her, before reaching a hand out to cup her cheek. “Hermione, you look too cute like that.”

It would seem the angry Gryffindor had forgotten all about Draco, which had been fine with Draco until he started touching Hermione again. Now, Draco clenched his jaw, and cracked his knuckles as his fist squeezed tight.

“Ron!” Hermione reprimanded, as she swat his hand away.

‘That’s better,’ thought Draco.

Moving her hands from her hips, giving up on the move that would forever remain within the Weasley family, she crossed her arms over her chest. This was her trademark action. The arm cross was usually used when she was lecturing her two best friends over a variety of things, such as not doing their homework or copying her homework or not correcting their homework or not studying, and the list went on.

She was desperate to cut the situation down to size. Make it another squabble between friends. Hermione and Ron fought like cats and dogs. They had since they first met. That was a part of their friendship. They would always make up no matter how serious the fight might get, which always stood to make their relationship stronger. Now, if she could just manipulate things a little, she could deflate this whole thing.

“You can’t just try and kiss me,” she huffed again, in a very know-it-all reprimanding way.

“And why not?” Ron shot back.

This was good. When they argued, Ron usually didn’t stop to think about his reasons much. He’d spout off anything without good cause to back it up. “Ronald Weasley! Did you ask me first?”

“Hermione, maybe we should have this conversation without him here.” Ron gestured to Malfoy.

Rolling her eyes, trying to play it off as something trivial, Hermione groaned. “Ron, you really need to get over this. But, fine. If that’s the only way you’ll talk to me and explain what’s going on, then okay,” she said.

“No,” Draco said, crossing his arms over his broad chest.

“Malfoy, please,” she requested, hoping he wouldn’t prove to be as stubborn as Ron.

“No,” the blonde stated solidly again.

Now she turned and looked at his silver eyes with her pleading ones, silently telling him this would work.

Draco’s eyes remained impassive, but his lips pressed tightly together, forming a narrow line. “Fine!” he snapped, before striding away and out of the room.

“Good riddance!” Ron shouted after him, only to receive a hard pinch on the arm from Hermione. “Ow! What was that for?”

“Like you have to ask,” she told him.

Taking a deep breath Hermione relaxed a bit. Ron’s fury seemed to have run its course. While he was still very much upset and probably very angry, he was calm and most importantly entirely sane.

“Sit down Ron,” she told him, as she made to pace back and forth in from of him.

Ron took his seat as commanded, glad to be rid of the Slytherin.

“I don’t know where to begin with on this one, Ronald,” she started.

“Hermione, I really like you, you know that?” he interceded.

Stopping her pace, she turned to face him. “Ron, I have to be honest with you. You are more likely to be my brother than my boyfriend.” It was true. While she didn’t feel like Ron was her brother, she figured that he and Harry would be the closest thing to having ones that she could imagine.

“But, we have always been meant to be together,” he reminded her.

Giving him a disbelieving look she replied, “Since when?”

“Well, since…” He tried to think, not sure when it had been decided.

“Ron, everyone else has thought we would end up going out. Did you ever want to go out with me?”

“Well, yeah, plenty of times.”

“Oh?” she asked, still unconvinced, “So, you want to date me?”

“Well, you’re beautiful and intelligent, why is it hard to fathom that I might fancy you?” he shot back, not in real defense of what he was trying to argue, but more with the intent of winning this little argument.

“Thank you Ron, that’s sweet. But, which part of your anatomy is making that call?” It was a most un-Hermione thing to say. But, she had to get him to see his real feelings on this. He had already pointed out that it was everyone else’s expectations and not his own.

Blushing, Ron dropped his gaze. “Hermione!” he said, most embarrassed at what she was insinuating.

“Well I’m sorry Ron, but just think about it.” She paused. “We’ve been friends for so long, we wouldn’t know how to be anything else. We will always be friends. Nothing more and nothing less.” Biting her lip she tried to throw every possible reason out there. “Tell me we wouldn’t be constantly bickering and breaking up and then getting back together and then breaking up again over the stupidest of matters. We fight enough as friends, could you imagine us as lovers?”

A small smile played across his face. “Poor Harry, he’d go bald trying to deal with us then.”

Laughing, Hermione answered, “I think the whole of Gryffindor would be driven insane.” Hermione sat down on the couch next to Ron’s chair. “If you go by your own feelings, what do they tell you?” she asked.

Ron thought about it. Hermione was the most beautiful witch he’d ever known, though she hadn’t started out that way. He chuckled as he envisioned the frizzy haired, buck toothed girl he’d first befriended. Now, even as a gorgeous young woman, he couldn’t see her as anything but his best friend. Ok, so there were times when his hormones seemed to rage and he had a fantasy here and there. But, fantasies were nothing like having a serious relationship. They’d be at each other’s throats.

The truth was, he didn’t want to date Hermione. “No, I don’t want to date.” He continued as another thought occurred to him, “But that doesn’t mean you can go around with ferret-boy.”

“Draco Malfoy is his name, Ronald,” she corrected. “Draco and I are friends.” She watched Ron grimace. “Good friends,” she emphasized.

“Well, don’t be!” he ordered.

Giggling, Hermione stated flatly, “No way.” After giggling a little more she continued, “We work too well together and he’s not our enemy and he’s more than decent once you get to know him.” Upon seeing Ron’s disgusted face she held her hand up to silence whatever retort he had coming. “You don’t have to be his friend or get to know him in any way. Just be my friend, and let me do what I want to.”

“Hermione, how can you trust him? He probably just wants to get in your pants,” he reasoned, going by his conclusions from earlier.

Rolling her eyes, she responded, “Don’t you think he could have done that when my other personality came out?”

Ron stilled completely, eyes wide in shock. He had expected Hermione to reprimand his crude phrasing and insinuation about her new friend. Instead she threw this at him, making him fear the worst. “Don’t tell me…”

“Of course not,” Hermione stated quickly, heart pounding as she saw Ron settle again. That was stupid of her. She’d almost set him off again. “I’m saying, that he obviously doesn’t have such intentions if he passed up such a golden opportunity,” she explained.

Seeming to mull over the point she made, Ron sat for another moment. “I suppose so,” he conceded. “But, I still don’t want him near you.”

“Dumbledore trusts him, and so do I. He really is my friend,” she assured. “He’s saved my life dozens of times.”

“So have Harry and I, why can’t we be your partners?” he reasoned.

She hated it when he actually had a good point. “Because, Moody wants me to be Draco’s partner.” ‘When in doubt, blame someone else,’ her mind said.

“So? We can talk to Moody, change his mind.” Ron was reaching now, still very unwilling to accept Hermione being anywhere near Malfoy.

“Sure, go ahead. I’ll let you handle that though. I would like to keep my head attached to my neck however, you know, not have Moody bite it off,” she said sarcastically. Moody already didn’t have any soft spots for any of the Golden Trio. Not even Harry. The only person he seemed to have any liking for was Draco, and she couldn’t even begin to fathom how that had come about.

“Well, can’t you just stop?” he asked. He was slightly thrown by the darkening look that came over Hermione’s usually bright and vibrant eyes.

‘Just stop?’ she reiterated Ron’s words in her head. If she just stopped, then she wouldn’t become an Auror, and she wouldn’t become stronger. The whole reason she was doing this was because on the night of her parents’ death, she’d been totally helpless and weak. Now, for the first time, she had confidence that something like that night would never happen again. If she couldn’t fight back and prevent it herself, she knew her partner could. There was no doubt about it, if she and Draco became stronger, no one she loved would die.

“No, I can’t,” she said softly, almost as if to herself.

“Hermione, don’t be like that,” Ron almost pleaded. Her eyes were so far away, and he was starting to worry.

Blinking, Hermione tried to heed his request and bring her mind back around. “Ron, I need you to know this. There can be no doubts.” She reached out and took his hand, squeezing it gently.

The change in her demeanor truly worried him, and he became most alert when her small hand grasped his. In that moment she looked so vulnerable.

“This war, Voldemort and the Death Eaters, all of it has taken my parents away. I loved them so much.” She wrung his hand a bit as if to emphasize it. It seemed that by making Ron accept her own decision to train, once and for all, she was also making a personal declaration and vow.

Her eyes watered slightly, as memories of that night flashed in her mind. The blood, there had been so much blood. “They were taken from me, and I-I just stood there… I was too late. They died because of me.”

Ron wanted to interrupt her and sooth that hurting tone out of her voice, tell her she was wrong and there was nothing she could have done. But, the look in her eyes kept him an avid listener instead.

“I was ready to throw my life down, but not before giving it my all, to win this war. I still am. But now, I’m out for revenge. Lestrange and the others will pay for what they have taken from me, they will pay dearly.” She growled the last part.

An emotion which Ron couldn’t describe coursed through him as he listened to Hermione speak. He’d never seen her act like this. She didn’t even seem to be aware she was speaking to someone else. The dark look in her eyes frightened him somewhat. Was it blood lust? No, that was impossible. Their Hermione could scarcely hurt a fly, let alone crave to kill.

“I’ve trained and worked my arse to improve as fast as possible.” Her eyes were again focused on Ron, no longer dwelling her inner most motives, but on sealing her argument and convincing him. “Draco is a lot farther along than me, but I’m catching up. Moody won’t have me train with anyone else, and I wouldn’t want to. And, I won’t stop training, because if I do, then I won’t be able to help win this war,” she reasoned.

“Well, Gin and I aren’t training for anything and we’re still going to stand beside Harry. Hell, Harry should be training, if anyone should be,” he said.

“But, I’m an Angelus,” she reminded. “I would have had to train to control my powers anyway. If I didn’t continue, it’d be a waste. The truth is, our side isn’t doing so well anymore. We could use every bit of help we can get. Right now, me being an Angelus is a good card to have up the sleeve.”

“But-” he started to argue back, but was cut off.

“But nothing,” she cut in. “Ron, accept it. I’m not going to stop and Draco is going to be my partner. I’m not asking you for anything more than acceptance. You and I are friends. Harry and I are friends. And, Draco and I are friends. Get over it and accept it. Harry already has.”

Sighing in defeat Ron rolled his eyes like Hermione often did, and conceded, “Fine.” He breathed out. “But, if that ferret so much as looks at you the wrong way, I’ll kill him.”

‘Yeah, that’ll be the day,’ she thought, knowing Ron could never take Draco in a match. “Thank you.” She stood, pulling him up with her and giving him a hug.

Draco had been listening in on their conversation, never willing for a second to let that raging baboon alone with Hermione. Now, he had a whole new worry on his mind. Hermione spoke of revenge. This was something he could not have. Revenge clouded the mind. If they went into the final battle and she was impaired by thoughts of killing Lestrange, then Hermione would get herself killed, and him as well, since the only way Hermione was dying was if he was dead and unable to protect her.

TBC…