Nguồn: https://archiveofourown.org/works/11547543/chapters/25930599

Summary:

The Harpies face the Magpies and Ron gets sloshed.

Thursday

"Quitting time, Hermione," Harry said, leaning over her desk.

"What? It's only six."

"Your office is beginning to look like the world's most unkempt library."

"You should see my flat," Hermione muttered. Harry snatched the quill from her hand, but with a flick of her wand, another quill took its place and began to write on a piece of parchment hovering over her head.

"How many documents are you writing at once?"

"Four," she said. "It requires a good deal of concentration, but it saves time."

"What are you working on?"

"This evening you mean? Shacklebolt asked me to do some research on a spell that the Death Eaters have been spotted using lately. You know, the one that liquefies your internal organs? So I figured I'd also work on a counter-charm while I'm at is. And Tiffy just lodged a formal complaint against the Greengrasses, so I've been looking into that as well."

"And the fourth?"

"Hmm?"

Harry snatched the fourth piece of parchment out of the air. The quill squawked at him irritably until he tapped it with his wand. "Your handwriting is so ridiculously tiny."

"Harry, give that back to me."

"Who is Florizell Askew?"

"She was a witch. Will you give it back, please?"

"Hang on." Harry kept reading her notes. "Hermione, does this have to do with ..."

"You know that it does."

"So it's not getting better?"

"Not yet. But," she added, snatching the parchment from his hands. "It's not the end of the month yet, so I'm not done trying to handle this on my own."

"Fair enough." He held up his hands in surrender. "You want to head on over to the Burrow?"

"Just give me a minute." Hermione used a shrinking charm on nearly every book in her office, stuffed them into her bag, and grabbed her coat. "Ok, let's go."

--------
Molly's reception of Hermione was somewhat friendlier than it had been the last time she visited the Burrow, but it was still nowhere nearly as warm as it had been when she and Ron had been dating. Hermione tried to score some points by casting a spell that made the words on their GO GERI GO! and WE LOVE GINNY! signs appear three-dimensional, but everyone seemed more interested in the fact that she had accidentally worn a black and white jumper.

"I'm sorry. I didn't know that these are Magpies' colors."

"Well you could have looked it up," Ron had said. "That is what you're good at, isn't it?"

"No matter," Arthur had said. With a wave of his wand, Hermione's jumper was now the same dark green that the entire Weasley clan sported. "There, that's better. So shall we go?"

-----------
Hermione tried her hardest to pay attention to the game. It wasn't that she completely disliked Quidditch; on the contrary, she had enjoyed watching the Gryffindors play while she was at Hogwarts. But she had so many other things pressing down on her mind right now that it was difficult to care about a bunch of people flying around after balls.

The stadium erupted in cheers around her. She had no idea what was happening, but she stood up and joined Ron and Harry's whooping praises.

"Good save, Geri!" Harry called.

"Atta girl!" Ron added

"Nicely done!" Hermione yelled. She sat when they did.

"That was brilliant," Ron said. "Woollongang Shimmy. Works every time." A dreamy smile was pasted across his face.

Hermione swiftly agreed and resolved to focus on the match. But before she knew it, the swirling mass of wizards and wizards on the pitch seemed to dissolve and reshape themselves into his face. The wind on her skin felt like his hands, the pale moon became his eyes.

It was so bloody wrong. On every single level. First, of course, he was Draco Malfoy. The boy that had tormented her and her friends for years. The boy that had called her a mudblood and wished that she were dead. The son of Lucius Malfoy. The boy who let Death Eaters into Hogwarts. The boy who was chosen to murder Albus Dumbledore. But it wasn't just his past, it was his present ... after all, he was her client, someone she had been given the responsibility to help. Was this really helping him?

And furthermore, there was the matter of their future. In short: there was none. There couldn't be. What was she going to do? Renounce her life as a witch and move into his flat? She couldn't do that. There were too many people she loved here, and too many responsibilities. So what other options did she have? Living a double life seemed nearly impossible; it was hard enough as it was. And it wasn't as if she could just reverse the spell and give Draco his memories back. That would create an unimaginable nest of troubles, and she'd certainly lose her job.

The crowd cheered again. She stood with them.

"The Seekers! I see them!" Ron pointed to a spot on the north end of the pitch.

"Come on, Ginny! You can do it!" Harry shouted.

"Go, Ginny!" she called.

They flew out of sight once again, causing the audience to retake their seats.

No, it seemed like the only thing she could really do was continue with the status quo. Draco had to trust her and she had to keep an eye on him. Soon, she would figure out a way to completely erase all the remnants of wizardry from his mind. And once she did, their little ... relationship ... would just have to end. He would be healthy and stable, and wholly capable of continuing life as a Muggle without her. And she ... well, she would just go back to her day job.

This scenario made the most sense.

But thinking about it also made Hermione feel like there was a cold, hollow spot right in the middle of her chest.

"There they are!" Harry pointed. They all stood again.

"Get it, Ginny! Get it!"

"Hooray!"

And then, the stadium was filled with cheers.

"That's it, folks!" The announcer shouted. "Holyhead Harpies' Seeker Ginny Weasley has captured the Golden Snitch! The final score is Harpies 470, Magpies 450!"

Harry and Ron traded high fives. Molly and Arthur embraced. George and Angelina kissed. Bill and Fleur were practically snogging. Hermione pasted on a smile and clapped.

---------------------------

Hermione barely recognized the Hideout with so many people in it. It was positively swarming with Weasleys and Harpies, most of whom were well on their way to getting quite sloshed. Ron in particular was downing firewhiskey as if it were water.

"Oi, Herrrrmione!" he called. "There's someone I wan' ya to meet." He had his arm around a tall man with brown hair and a stubby chin. "'Herminny, this is Calell. Dacell. Dadell. Oi, mate, I'm sorry, I can't quite pronunciate it at the moment."

"Cadell. Cadell Llewellyn." He offered his hand to Hermione. She shook it politely.

"You must be Geri's brother."

"That I am."

"Brilliant," Ron said. "I'm gonna go and find yer susster, Caddy. Anyone call you Caddy? Or Delly?"

"No."

"Bloody, bloody, bloody shame," Ron said. He slapped Cadell on the back and ambled off.

"So," he mused. "It seems that Ron would like us to talk."

"Yes, it does indeed seem that way."

"Well then. Here we are. Talking."

"Yes. Yes we are."

They sipped their drinks uncomfortably.

"So your name is ... Herminny?"

"Hermione."

"Ah."

"Yes."

"Brilliant match, eh?"

"Absolutely. A nail-biter up to the very end."

"Mmm."

"Right."

More conscientious drink-sipping.

"Actually, I have to confess something," he said, bending closer. Hermione noticed that the Llewellyn chin looked much better on him. "I actually kind of hate Quidditch."

"Really?"

He nodded solemnly. "I just go for Geri. But I wear these glasses during the game." He handed Hermione a pair of innocuous-looking spectacles. "Go on, look through them."

When Hermione put them on, instead of seeing the crowded bar, she was instead looking at the pages of a book.

"How do you ... how do you turn the page?" she asked, voice full of awe.

"Clear your throat."

Hermione obliged. The page turned. "Fantastic. Did you make these yourself?"

"I did. I could rig you a pair if you'd like."

Reluctantly, she handed them back. "I'd better not. Sometimes I have a hard enough time pretending to be interested in the game as it is."

Cadell laughed and slipped the glasses back in his front pocket. "Which one are you related to?"

"None of them. Ginny Weasley and I went to school together a few years back."

"Hogwarts?"

"That's the one."

Cadell uttered a low whistle. "Mighty jealous. Mum homeschooled the lot of us, so I never got to go."

"Well you've obviously learned quite a bit if you were able to make those specs."

"Ah, it's nothing," he said, dismissing her admiration with a wave of his hands. "So what do you do?"

"I work for the Ministry. You?"

"Owl Post. Not very exciting, but I'm kind of just biding my time until I can save enough to open a bookshop."

Hermione narrowed her eyes and searched the room. Cadell attempted to follow her gaze.

"Lose something?" he asked.

"Did Ron send you over here so you could both have a laugh at me?" she asked.

"What are you going on about?"

"Oh, nothing," she muttered. "Sorry. I'm just a bit of a bibliophile myself, and Ron's made fun of me for it since we were eleven."

Cadell gave her a bright smile. "Oh?"

He looked so earnest that Hermione had to smile back. "Yes. So what is that book in your specs?"

"It's a book on metaphysical transfiguration."

"The one by Selwyn Sussman?"

"No, this is the Weintraub. But it does refer extensively to Sussman's theories."

Hermione put her drink down. "Hmm. I haven't gotten to that one yet. Does Weintraub ever address Sussman's problem of distinguishing concupiscence from ..." But before she could finish her sentence, Ron returned, even less in control of his faculties than he had been before.

"Mermione! Calell! I knew you two would get along famoushly. This is jus' great. You two need refills on those drinks."

"I'm fine, Ron. Where is Geri?"

"Geri has pretty hair. I've alwaysh said that, haven't I, Mermione?"

"Ron, maybe you should go find yourself a SoberUp Potion."

"Naaaaaaaaaaaaaaaah."

"Your breath is seriously flammable," she said.

Cadell laughed heartily.

"Mermione, you are one sharp, sharp, sharp lady. You know that? But wassh out, Calell. She will break your heart into a billion bajillion mamillion piecessh." He gave Hermione what he probably assumed was a look of deep sadness. In reality, it actually just looked like he was about to fall over. Which he then promptly did.

Cadell helped Ron to his feet. "Maybe we shouldn't tell my sister about this," he said.

Luckily, Bill Weasley was only a few feet away. Hermione got his attention and Cadell handed Ron to him.

"Oh Ronnykins," Bill said with a chuckle. "I'm going to take as many pictures of you as I possibly can before sobering you up, you understand that, don't you?"

"Your hair is mush unprettier, Dad," Ron replied.

"He thinks I'm Dad? Oh, you'll pay for that, Ron. Now I'm going to get George to help me think of something fun to do with you. See you two later," Bill said, dragging Ron away from them.

"He's not usually like that," Hermione said.

"Oh, I know. I've met him plenty during less ... festive occasions."

"Oh." Ron has met Geri's family? He's met them "plenty"? Things must be going well.

"So look, I'd love to talk to you a little more about Selwyn's theories. Do you want to go somewhere a little quieter? I think there's a less crowded bar down the road."

Hermione sighed and looked at her watch. It was nearly one in the morning. "I'm sorry, Cadell, I really have to go. I have work tomorrow."

"Of course. Could I, um, send you an owl sometime?"

Hermione smiled. "Sure. I'd like that." She stood up, grabbed her bag, and offered Cadell her hand. "It was nice to meet you."

"Likewise," he said, shaking her hand warmly.

As Hermione left the bar, she cursed herself for staying so late. She had planned on having one drink and being home by eleven o'clock, midnight at the latest. This way she'd have time to look through a few more sources before heading to bed. Now it looked like she'd only have time to get through a couple of chapters if she wanted to get a decent night's sleep. She heaved a sigh and headed home.