It Had To Be You

IT HAD TO BE YOU

Story Begun – 12/26/04
Chapter eight begun – 9/29/06
Chapter eight completed – 10/1/06
Beta Thanks – RahNee & SlytherinsWench – my darlings, how I love and adore you both so very much!

OFFICIAL DISCLAIMER: I do not own (unfortunately) any Harry Potter Characters, trains, buildings, etc. That honor is JKR’s - damnit.

A/N: Well, the ball is rolling towards a resolution. The questions is; how will everything work out in the end? Would I be just the evil stinker to turn this into a tragic tale of unrequited love? Muahahahaha…

Guess you’ll just have to read on and see.

________________________

Ch 8 – Non-Existent Hexes, Empty Dorms & Broken Hearts


“Don’t move!” came the steely command. Hermione, who was in the process of getting up from the couch she’d been forced into, found herself seated none-too-gently back in place. She sighed. This was getting ridiculous. “Well?”

“Well what?” Hermione asked dully.

Ron’s eyes slid from Harry’s frowning face to Hermione. “I was talking to Harry. How are you feeling, anyway? Do you feel queasy? Lightheaded? Woozy?”

Harry was flipping through the pages of his Dark Arts book back and forth, scanning the text, all the while his scowl deepening. “I dunno, mate. I think that’s the right one. But she doesn’t seem to be responding.” Harry flicked his wand in a complicated twist over Hermione once more and peered closely into her face. “You sure you don’t feel dizzy?”

Hermione locked clear, dark eyes on Harry and folded her arms across her chest. When he prodded her again she answered tartly, “No, Harry, I do not feel dizzy. There are two very good reasons as to why that is. First, and please pay attention here, both of you, as I’m only going to say this one last time; I am not, nor have I ever been hexed by Draco. And second, you performed the revealing spell incorrectly, so you wouldn’t see if I was hexed or not, regardless.”

“I did?” Harry’s brows creased and he shot her a wary glance. “Are you lying?” He looked skeptical. Harry glanced at Ron, “Could be part of the spell…”

“Her trying to trick us? Yeah, that’s just what I was thinking!” Ron agreed.

Hermione let out a frustrated groan and attempted to get up from the couch and Harry’s arm shot out and pulled her right back down again. “OH!” she seethed, “Harry, Ron, for heaven’s sakes stop this right now! And get it through your thick skulls, I’m not under a spell.”

Harry shook his head stubbornly and held her fast. “Mione, we need to be sure. You understand, don’t you? If it were one of us, we know you’d do the exact same thing.” She opened her mouth to protest but he cut her off straight away. “Don’t bother trying to tell me otherwise. I know you. If you thought one of us might be in danger or under some kind of spell nothing would keep you from getting to the truth. Nothing would keep you from making sure we were all right. We just want to make sure you’re okay. We need to.”

Hermione sighed. Harry was right. She hated it when he was so simply, totally accurate like that. The prat. “Yes, well, anyway, let go of me.” When he looked reluctant, shooting a quick sideways glance at an equally nervous Ron, she spoke up again, her voice cool and determined. “Now, Harry.” He complied and she glared at him darkly and began rubbing the spot on her arm where he’d held her.

“What’s wrong? Are you feeling sick?” Ron asked. Why did he have to sound so hopeful? Still, after all this time they continued to doubt Draco’s sincerity. His integrity. Her good judgment. So much so, they even considered the idea that he’d hexed her, for Merlin’s sake!

That made her downright angry.

Did neither of them think she was an intelligent enough woman, capable of discerning the difference between the advances of a deceitful man or not? That she would not be able to recognize the feelings behind the caress of a man’s hand who truly wanted her and one who was lying?

No, of course they didn’t.

Even though Draco had fought stubbornly by their side, knowing the way everyone thought of him, yet he never gave pause to put himself in between Harry and the fray. Even though he risked his life to get the Order imperative information to help defeat the Dark Lord, still he had not earned their trust.

Even after he’d fallen for their best friend. For a muggle-born witch. For her.

But, of course they wouldn’t know that because neither she nor Draco had come forth about their relationship. Either way, that shouldn’t have made a difference when it came right down to it. Harry and Ron should at the very least trust him. He deserved that much from them. It would have made all the difference. She was sure. And now it was too late. It was too late.

She couldn’t help but feel that if Harry and Ron had been just a bit more open-minded where Draco was concerned that she would not be sitting here, feeling like her soul had been ripped right out of her body. Like she had lost half of herself and the other half that remained was slowly withering away, dying.

Hermione’s caustic gaze slid from Harry to Ron at his glib reply. “Yes as a matter of fact, I am feeling sick, Ronald!” she snapped, standing abruptly. “I’m sick of being poked at by you two. Sick of you assuming I’m under some dark curse, simply because I have feelings for someone you don’t approve of, and I’m thoroughly sick of your narrow-mindedness. But most of all, I’m sick of this conversation!” The boys were on their feet instantly trying to calm Hermione when Ginny came into the common room and saw the trio at the couch.

“Hey, Mione.” Ginny smiled kindly at Hermione when she approached and saw the girl’s frazzled expression. She understood how terribly unhappy her friend was. It was written all over her face. There was a lingering sadness about Hermione now, like a secondary layer of her spirit. It was making Ginny feel more than a little anxious to see the old, optimistic and cheerful Hermione back. Ginny’s eyes slid down to the bag at Hermione’s feet and her eyebrows shot up. “What’s with the duffle?”

Both boys looked at the bag at the foot of the couch. Typically, neither had noticed it before then.

Hermione’s eyes got very bright. She looked like she might be about to cry. Not again, she thought desperately. Not in front of the boys. “I,” she cleared her suddenly dry throat, “I am moving back into the Tower.” At the collective gasp of her three friends Hermione’s eyes slid to the floor. “Tonight,” she finished timidly.

“Good!” was Ron’s immediate reply. He grinned at her with forced enthusiasm. “Brilliant idea, Mione. That way we can watch over you, take care of you.” He put his arm around Hermione’s shoulder reassuringly and didn’t miss her slight flinch; his face fell momentarily, before he regained his composure and tried to smile bravely at her.

“It’s probably for the best, Mione,” Harry agreed quietly. He saw the pain flash across Ron’s face at Hermione’s shying away from him, but what could he do? Since she really didn’t seem to be hexed, there wasn’t much more to be done. Oh, how Harry wished that that were the case though! He thought it fleetingly amusing, that what he really wanted more than anything in that moment was for one of his best friends to be under a dark spell. But how great it would be if all he had to do was say a few words and with the flick of his wand he would have the old, happy Hermione back and get Draco Malfoy out of her life for good!

Apparently, the easy way out wasn’t happening this time and it looked like there was nothing more to be done, but to wait for Hermione to get over this absurd crush of hers. Harry sighed glumly. At least he hoped she would get over Malfoy.

He wasn’t good for her. Right? Never mind that he’d not seen Hermione as happy as she’d been these past months with Malfoy the entire time he’d known her. Surely it was just a phase, a passing fancy that meant nothing. Right? He glanced at Hermione; she had bags under her eyes, she looked defeated and so very sad.

This was really for the best, he decided resolutely. She’d get over Malfoy. He was sure. He hoped…

“Yes, I suppose.” Hermione finally agreed half-heartedly. She was too tired to argue with them tonight. She couldn’t even muster up enough energy to be angry with them for not asking why she felt the need to leave the Head dorms. They just saw it as one more opportunity to keep her away from Draco. They didn’t need to know specifics. That wasn’t their style anyway. They were broad strokes kind of guys. The tiny details never really mattered as long as they got their desired outcome. Well, apparently, they were going to get their way again.

Since she and Draco had had their fight almost three weeks ago, Hermione had been in a constant state shifting tumultuously between a mixture of panic, anger and despair.

Her final exams were coming up and it was the only thing she had been able to focus on so as not to break down entirely. Any time she had tried to talk to Draco these past weeks, either Harry or Ron were suddenly at her side lending their ‘support’ or Draco would somehow manage to get away from her just before she could corner him. And to make things that much worse, since the night of their disagreement, Draco had not been back in the Head dorm. She had thought at first he was just avoiding her and she took comfort in knowing eventually they would run into each other at some point in their dorm and he would have to face her. And then she would have her say and he would listen and hear her out.

She could make him see how wrong he had been about her and Ron and everything would be all right again.

She found out however, several days later that Draco had been bunking with Blaise in the Slytherin house. Hermione felt like she had been kicked in her belly. He had not been there at all. He had really and truly left. Hermione knew a feeling of devastation like she’d never felt before. It was the only time Hermione had ever voluntarily missed class. She cried for two days straight after that, and had since given up trying to speak to Draco.

She was finally resigned to the fact that he no longer wanted to be with her, and Hermione’s heart was breaking.

The entire school knew there was some kind of major event unfolding between the Head Boy and Girl; that was easy enough to see. One day the Heads were clearly close friends, some suspected much more than that, and the next day they both look crestfallen and neither would speak to the other. The rumor mill was abuzz with conjecture, but either out of respect for Hermione or out of fear from a now very surly Draco, no one dared ask either, so no one knew for sure what was happening. Only the closest friends of the Head Boy and Girl were aware of the heartbreak between the two and only on the side of their respective friends.

Ginny goggled at the two boys in shock. Her harsh tone brought Hermione out of her reverie. “Are you two completely mental? How can you think it’s for the best for the Head Girl to be away from her dorm?” At their sheepish expressions and mulish silence she turned to Hermione. “Hermione, you know that this decision is going to raise a lot of questions, don’t you? The Headmaster has been really understanding with your problem, but if you move out, what is that going to say?” Ginny grasped her friend’s shoulders. “Come on, why don’t I walk you back to the dorm and –“

“No.” Hermione cut her off. “I appreciate it, really, Ginny. But, I,” she lost her voice for a moment, then continued on shakily, “It, it just hurts too much to be there.” She leaned in close to Ginny so the boys wouldn’t hear and whispered jerkily, “He hasn’t been there since – since…then. And besides, it’s only three months till the end of school. It’s not that bad. The time will fly by… Anyway, Draco should be in the Head dorm. Some of the Slytherin still don’t like him and I worry. He’s safer in his own quarters. And if he doesn’t feel comfortable with me there, well, I can be just as at home here.”

Ginny didn’t believe for one second that Malfoy couldn’t take care of himself in Slytherin House just fine and Hermione certainly didn’t look the least bit at home.

Ginny nodded reassuringly despite her thoughts and hugged her friend. “Okay, Hermione,” she patted her awkwardly. “It will all work out. I’m sure.” Ginny had heard something along those lines already that Draco was rumored to be back in the Slytherin dungeons. But Hermione had not said anything either way, so she’d not really commented on it. Ginny was trying to give Hermione as much space as possible to work this out with Draco, but clearly progress was not going well. How could it, if the dim-witted Head Boy wouldn’t even give his girl a chance to speak with him and set things right?

Ginny glared at her brother and boyfriend, shaking her head disappointedly at them as she led a withdrawn Hermione up to her bedroom. The boys looked not the least bit upset once Hermione’s back was turned. Arses. Ginny thought darkly as she held on to a now quietly crying Hermione. In her opinion, she’d given the lovebirds quite long enough to get their act together and resolve this problem between the two of them.

Apparently that wasn’t happening.

As Ginny settled in Hermione for the night and looked at the girl’s despondent face she thought it high time she took matters into her own capable hands and set things to right.

Get everything back to the way they should be.

With Draco and Hermione back together.

They were both clearly miserable without the other and obviously hopelessly in love. Now she just needed to give them a friendly little shove in the right direction and once that happened, Ginny knew they would not be able to stay apart.

Ginny flopped down on her bed, her mind whirling. One thing was certain, she couldn’t do this alone.

She needed someone clever, someone daring and motivated, someone who could be discreet and downright sneaky if need be.

In short, she needed someone just like her.

---- * ----

The Owlery was cold this time of year. Well, cold wasn’t really right, a more accurate word, or two actually, would be bone-chilling. The wind was constant and whipped everything up into little whirls of dust and bits and pieces of things that Ginny was sure she didn’t want to inspect too closely, and it moaned lowly in the rafters, making them shudder in an entirely unsettling way. The darkening sky was dusky and the hundreds of owls nestled about the expansive space eyed the tiny red-head with vague curiosity or impatience, as their feeding time was fast approaching and they wondered if she had a missive to send or not. There was dinner to be hunted and caught, after all.

Ginny did indeed have a message to send, but on this particular evening, it was going to be delivered in person. She sighed impatiently, burrowing herself more securely into her robes and grimaced.

Ginny Weasley didn’t like to be kept waiting.

Shortly thereafter, she heard the unmistakable sound of footfalls approaching.

“You’re late,” she said darkly.

“Yes, well, I got here as soon as I could. And why didn’t you pick somewhere a little more convenient to meet, than, say, at the topmost part of the school?”

Ginny shrugged delicately. “I told you this had to be a private meeting. It wouldn’t be private if we're in plain view, now would it?”

An eyebrow arched in question. “I suppose. So, why don’t you tell me why we’re having this clandestine tête-à-tête? Obviously I’m intrigued, as I’m here. But in order to keep me here you’re going to have to make it worth my while.” Ginny rolled her eyes. “Have you decided to leave Potter and you’re here to seduce me, perhaps?” He winked at her charmingly and grinned.

“If there was anyone aside from Harry that I would be interested in, I suppose it would be you.” His smile grew wide, full of his legendary charisma. He did have a devilishly handsome smile, Ginny admitted grudgingly.

“Naturally.”

“Your humility is so endearing. Really.”

“So I’ve been told. So, Ginny, I’m hoping this means you’ve ousted Potter from your nice, warm bed? Because I’d say it’s about time. A man in such demand as myself can only wait so long.” He leered at with a roguish smirk and she snorted, amused.

Ginny shook her head. “Alas no, tempting as you may be, I’m sorry to inform you, Harry is still in my bed." She paused. “Actually, I take that back.”

“That Harry isn’t in your bed?”

Ginny grinned. “No, that I’m sorry to inform you. Because I’m really not.”

He narrowed his eyes momentarily then shrugged. “Pity.”

“It is, for you.”

He smirked. “Of that I have no doubt.” He was looking interested again.

As much fun as it was to tease him, Ginny decided she needed to get down to business. “Let’s talk about your bed, shall we?” He perked up considerably.

“Many a beautiful witch’s favorite place to be.”

Ginny bit back a laugh. “So the legend goes. But, that’s not really true as of late, from what I hear.”

Blue eyes assessed her coolly. “And what exactly do you hear?”

Ginny glanced at him slyly. “That you have someone who is in your bed that you’re in need of getting out of it,” she paused to watch his expression before continuing, “permanently.”

Blaise Zabini leaned elegantly in the doorframe of the Owlery entrance looking bored and gorgeous. He began fiddling idly with the fine leather gloves on his hands. “Is that so? And who would that be?”

“Why, Draco Malfoy, of course.”

This got his attention. He stood up straight and moved to stand in front of Ginny, crossed his arms and looked down at her. “I’m listening.”

----*----

Draco strode toward the Head dorms. He had just gotten a tip from Blaise that Hermione was in the Great Hall finishing up a Gryffindor house meeting of some kind. That worked out perfectly for him, since he needed this time to get more of his things from his old room. It was about time his sullen mate actually made good use of himself by tipping Draco off about Hermione. It looked like Draco had finally gotten Blaise to accept the fact that he was going to be with him for the duration of the year.

Sure, bunking with Blaise was a bother, but at least Blaise being a prefect afforded him his own room, so Draco had some sort of privacy.

He knew it upset Blaise because it was seriously slowing down his amorous endeavors. But, honestly, his best friend was suffering here. Couldn’t he keep his libido in check for just a little while? Either way, Draco didn’t give a damn if Blaise didn’t get shagged for a few weeks or not. Draco wasn’t budging. Zabini was just going to have to find someplace else to woo his ladies.

Draco entered the common room and headed straight for his bedroom. The quicker he got what he needed the quicker he could leave. He’d been successful thus far in staying away from Hermione, but it was taking everything he had to do it. He ached for her, but he needed time to be certain that she really wasn’t with Weasley.

Every time he turned around she was flanked by either Pothead or the Weasel, and just when he saw her alone and wanted to approach to try and talk, he would get this feeling in the pit of his stomach, like his insides were draining out, and he decided he’d rather go on in limbo than to talk to her and find out that she would never forgive him for being such a supreme ass. Because if he heard her say the words aloud that she would never take him back, he didn’t know how he would go on. And, worse, if she told him that she had accepted Weasley, and he actually processed the idea that Ron Weasley had been touching Hermione, holding her, kissing her, Draco was seriously concerned that he’d go after him and challenge him to a Wizarding Duel. Then after he’d killed the redheaded idiot, because he would kill Weasley, then she’d not forgive him for sure.

So, in order to keep Weasley’s worthless arse alive, and for his own sanity, he would continue to avoid Hermione. His pace quickened as he made his way up the steps to his private room and froze, his blood going cold when he heard a soft, feminine voice call out nonchalantly, “Why the rush?”

Draco had just mounted the first couple of steps and turned slowly to see who was in his room. He gritted his teeth when he saw the unwelcome visitor. “Weasley,” he growled, “I’ve had it with you just popping up in my rooms whenever you bloody well feel like it.” He stalked over to her. Ginny was curled up on the couch, she didn’t look the least bit phased by his dark scowl.

“In a bit of a bad mood these days, eh, Draco?” Draco’s eyes widened, but he said nothing. “I wonder why that is?” Ginny stretched out her legs on the couch and leaned back to gaze at him and then around the empty common room. “Why are you in such a rush?” she asked again.

“Obviously, because I’m in a hurry,” he snapped. He was starting to get edgy. The last thing he wanted was for Hermione to come in here and see him chatting with the girl Weasel. It reminded him painfully of the last time Hermione wandered in and saw him talking to Ginny. That had been the first night he’d taken her flying. He’d never been happier in his life than he had been that night. And now, here sat Hermione’s friend as a living, painful reminder of how quickly times could change and his heart twisted agonizingly. He had to get out of there.

Ginny watched as a visible shudder ran over Draco before he turned on his heel and walked away, heading straight for the main door. Oh no you don’t! “There’s no need to hurry out on my account.” Ginny replied calmly.

“Don’t flatter yourself,” Draco barked. “I’m busy.”

His hand was on the door when Ginny announced, “She’s not here you know.”

Draco paused. “If you mean Granger, I don’t really care where she is.” Ginny snorted and Draco turned to glare at her. “However, since you are here, I can only guess that she is on her way, so –“

“You’re not very observant are you, Malfoy?” Ginny cut in. She gestured with a sweeping arm around the room. “Have you taken a good look around lately?”

Draco’s brow furrowed, but his eyes began roving the common room nonetheless. “What are you on about…” His voice trailed off as his gaze landed on Hermione’s bookshelf, which sat right beside her desk. He frowned; it was completely bare. Draco went over to her desk and his frown deepened. Usually Hermione’s desk was cluttered with an assortment of books and parchment and muggle pens, whether she was using it or not. It was always in a state of disarray, unlike Draco’s own desk, which was always neat. Today her desk was clean. He opened a drawer and then another and another. The desk was empty. He didn’t look at Ginny but instead turned to look up at Hermione’s bedroom door and went straight there, taking the steps two at a time, and, without pause, went right in.

Ginny didn’t follow; instead she stood from the couch and waited for him to come back down. When he didn’t return, she went up to Hermione’s room and entered to find him sitting on the bed, his head bent and buried in his hands.

She cleared her throat and he looked up at her. His eyes were a deep, gunmetal grey and his face was flushed from the pressure of his hands rubbing his eyes. He looked wretched. For the first time, Ginny actually felt sorry for Malfoy.

“What happened?” His voice was deep and thick.

Ginny sighed and went over to the bed and sat down beside him. He didn’t look at her; his gaze was locked on the empty closet, the doors flung open wide, mocking him with its bare shelves. “She’s gone, Malfoy. She left the Head dorm,” Ginny paused, she felt bad, but this was for his own good, “permanently.”

Draco shook his head dazedly. “Why? Why would she do that? She loves this place.”

Ginny smiled. “She loves something more than this place, Draco.” When he turned to look at her sharply and questioned what she meant, Ginny rolled her eyes dramatically. “Hermione told me you’ve not been back here since you dumped her.”

Draco shot up and began pacing the room. He turned to her, his voice was low and harsh, “I did not dump her! She was with your idiot of a brother!”

Ginny shook her head. “Again, I’m going to ignore your insults where Ron is concerned, Malfoy, but you’re wrong, she –“

“Wrong? I’m not wrong! He was holding her hands! She was letting him. I saw them. Holding hands. Together.”

Ginny jumped up and went straight over to Draco, jabbing her finger into his chest. “Wake up, Malfoy! You saw what you wanted to see! Hermione is crazy about you. She is NOT with Ron. She has never been with Ron and you bloody well know it! Yes, he wants her, but –“

“Then why did she leave? She’s in Gryffindor Tower?” Ginny nodded. “Then she’s there with him. If she didn’t want to be with him, why did she move into the tower where he is?”

Ginny tossed her hands up. “Honestly! Are all men thick as posts?”

Draco glared at Ginny. Lord, he looked menacing. “If she doesn’t want to be with the Weasel, then why isn’t she here?”

Ginny goggled at him. “Are you serious?” She held a hand up when he opened his mouth. “Never mind. How about because you left first? You clearly didn’t want to be here if she was, so she solved the problem for you and moved to Gryffindor so you could come back, Malfoy. She knew you were staying away because of her and she’d rather leave and let you be safe, than stay here alone.”

“Safe?”

“Yes, she’s got some cockamamie idea that you’re not safe in Slytherin House.”

Draco snorted. “I can take care of myself.”

“I have no doubt,” she said flatly, “But Hermione is concerned about your well-being and sees things differently than the rest of us.”

“Tell her to come back.” He turned and walked out of the room and down the stairs.

He was heading to the door again when Ginny ran after him. “I won’t do that.”

He spun around; his gaze was fierce, so much so that it made her take a small step back. “Tell her I want her to be here.”

“Does that mean that you will be coming back also?”

Draco shook his head. “I’m perfectly happy in the dungeon.” But Ginny simply said ‘no.’ “What do you mean, ‘no’?”

“She won’t come back here without you, Malfoy. And I just told you that Hermione is not with Ron. That she is crazy about you. That she moved out of the Head dorm so you could be here. The one place that she has been working to get to since she first stepped foot into Hogwarts. How much more clearly can she or I spell things out for you?” Ginny took a deep breath. “Draco Malfoy, Hermione Granger is totally, completely in lo-“

“Stop!” he bellowed, holding a hand up. He couldn’t help the slight tremor that ran through it. “Has she, has she said, that? Has she told you that she is…that she…” he shut his eyes. He couldn’t even bring himself to say the words. He was such an enormous coward.

Ginny felt relief wash over her then at the expression that settled on Malfoy’s face. The smile that tugged at her lips was decidedly smug when she drawled, “Well, Malfoy, I guess you’re just going to have to find out the answer to that question all by yourself.” Ginny walked past him and opened the door to leave and turned back to look at him.

He’d stopped at Hermione’s desk and was running his hand over the back of her chair. He glanced up at her, looking perplexed. “Why are you even bothering, Weasley? I don’t get it. Wouldn’t you be that much happier if Hermione was with your brother?”

Ginny sighed and took a small step back toward him. “I’m doing this because I want to see Hermione smile again, the way she smiled when she was with you. I want her to be happy and fulfilled. She is a wonderful person, Malfoy. She deserves to have what she wants in life. And for some crazy reason, what she wants is not Ron, it’s you.” Ginny turned to go, but stopped and ran her hand along the edge of the door. She didn’t face Draco, but spoke quietly, “And what makes you think that I would wish for anything less for my brother, than a woman who feels the same way about him that Hermione does for you? Don’t waste any more time, Draco. Just put your foolish pride aside and go get your girl.”

With that she walked out the door and left him to his thoughts.

---- * ----