The Silver Envelope

Dinner with Friends

Chapter Notes
TW: verbal abuse, domestic violence
A familiar dark street lined with rows of dilapidated brick houses sheathed in a fresh layer of snow appeared before Hermione. She stood on the street for a moment, taking a calming breath and allowing fat snowflakes to settle into her hair.
Steeling herself, she found her way to the front door marked with the number twelve.
Grimmauld Place looked completely different from the way it had been when Hermione had first arrived during the summer holiday before her fifth year at Hogwarts. Over the years, Kreacher had continued to transform it into a bright and cozy home.
Reaching for the heavy knocker located in the center of a very large wreath, Hermione announced her arrival. The door opened, greeting her with warm, potato-scented air.
"Hermione! Come on in," Harry said, moving aside to allow her entry.
Gratefully, she huddled into the warmth, shaking the melting snow from her hair. As Harry gave her a brief hug, she noticed he was wearing a hand-knitted jumper bearing a large letter H. Her heart squeezed with the memory of Christmases at the Burrow, and the realization that she wouldn't be invited this year.
"You must have been made Minister, by now, from how busy you've been," Harry said as he led her into the sitting room.
"Far from it," Hermione said with a small smile. "A Minister would never work this hard."
"Exactly!" came Ginny's voice from the hall. She emerged with a bright smile, rushing to hug her
friend.
"I'm so glad you made time to visit us tonight," she said. "I was starting to get worried that you were swallowed up by a monster made of paperwork."
"I barely escaped with my life," Hermione returned.
They all sat in the cheery sitting room, Hermione taking in the festive greenery and strings of lights someone (she assumed Kreacher) had put up.
"Have you got everything sorted for the Christmas Ball yet?" Harry asked.
"Nearly," Hermione said. "But I still have loads to do. A few of the pieces that were donated to the auction have been withdrawn, so we have to look for replacements on short notice. And we've been having some difficulty with Kizzy Haart, that pop singer we booked. She's putting up a fuss about the height of the stage, apparently, but the owner of the venue won't allow us to change it."
There was an endless list of last-minute details to iron out. Hermione had been running herself
ragged trying to get everything ready in time.
"You got Kizzy Haart?" Ginny said, impressed. "How did you manage that?"
"Oh, it turns out she's a cousin of one of the students in the Hogwarts LGBT Rights Coalition.
They convinced her it was for a good cause," Hermione responded.
Just then, Kreacher appeared in the doorway to the dining room, informing them that dinner was served.
As they all sat to eat (Kreacher left, apparently still uncomfortable eating with his employers), Harry and Ginny continued to ask questions about the upcoming ball.
It was the first time in weeks Hermione had truly gotten away from her work, and she was beginning to remember why. She had packed her days with as much work as possible, only stopping to stumble home and straight into bed. She knew it was cowardly to avoid her own thoughts, but she couldn't help it.
She had thought about backing out of her plans with Draco multiple times a day since their conversation. Every time she remembered what she had asked him to do, her nerves exploded, shooting through her like lightning. When she had first suggested it, the idea of facing Ron with Draco on her arm had felt daring. But the closer the actual day came, the more it seemed like a recipe for disaster.
5 She was sure that Draco would understand if she decided not to attend the ball as his date. At least, she thought so. To be completely honest, she hadn't been friends with him for long. It might go badly.
The real problem was that everyone seemed to know that she would be showing up with a mystery date. Hermione had supposed Ginny would tell Ron, but she wasn't sure how the secret had spread from there. It had been a nasty surprise to wake up one morning and find a scathing gossip column had been published in Witch Weekly just to discuss the rumor of Hermione's upcoming date. It was all so stupid, Hermione thought. She had hoped to leave this sort of nonsense behind with her school days.
The only way out, she supposed, was through. But that didn't stop her from wanting to throw up every time she thought about it.
"Hermione, are you alright? You're looking a bit green. Is something wrong with the food?" Harry asked.
"Oh, no, nothing's wrong," Hermione said, scooping up a bite of roast for show. "I'm just a bit nervous about all the ball stuff. Ginny, have you picked a dress yet?"
She had hoped that a change of subject would help, but Ginny's eyes narrowed.
"Hermione, don't deflect. What's going on with you?"
Hermione chased a few peas around her plate with her fork.
"Ginny's a world-class Quidditch player, Hermione. Nothing gets away from her," Harry reminded her.
"Out with it," Ginny insisted. "Is this about your date?"
Hermione huffed out an annoyed breath.
"I'm just feeling a bit nervous about seeing Ron, alright?" she said.
Harry took a great interest in his food at the mention of Ron.
*He'll just have to deal," Ginny said hotly. "No matter how angry he is, we're not just going to abandon you, Hermione. You're our friend. We'll back you up.
"She'll back you up," Harry amended. "I don't want to get in the middle of this. I hate when you two fight."
"That's exactly the problem," Hermione said. "We're always fighting! I'm sick of it. I just want him to leave me alone."
A knock sounded at the door.
Dread curled in Hermione's stomach, turning her dinner sour.
There were only a few people who knew how to get to Grimmauld Place without guidance. She
felt certain she knew who it was
Harry rushed from the table to intercept Kreacher before he opened the door, but from the sounds coming from the hallway, it seemed he was too late. Indistinct voices floated down the hall.
"Do you want to go upstairs?" Ginny asked. "In case he comes-"
The door to the dining room crashed open. Ron stood there, snow in his red hair, flushed face looking angry.
"You invited her here?" he accused, rounding on Harry.
"Hermione's our friend, Ron-" Harry started to say, but Ron cut him off.
"SHE BETRAYED ME!" Ron shouted, refusing to look at Hermione.
"Sorry?" Hermione said, utterly dumbfounded at the accusation.
Ron whirled to look at her, rage twisting his face.
"You cheated on me! You messed around behind my back and lied about it! And now I hear you're bringing some prat to the Christmas Ball probably the one you've been shagging behind my back!" Ron yelled.
"I did no such thing!" Hermione retorted, standing up.
"Ron, stop being a prat and leave her alone," Ginny said, putting herself in between the two of them. She drew her wand, and it was a testament to Ron's anger that he didn't back away.
"I can't believe you're taking her side!" Ron spat at Harry and Ginny.
"No one's taking any sides, Ron," Hermione said, trying to sound calm to bring down the tension in the room.
Ron, you don't know what happened, not for certain," Harry reasoned, putting his hand on his friend's shoulder. Ron shook it off.
"I know exactly what happened. And I'm going to prove it," Ron said.
"I think you should leave, mate," Harry said, using himself as yet another barrier between Ron and Hermione. "We'll talk another time."
Ron gave each of them a look of loathing, then shook his head before storming out of the room.
Distantly, they heard the front door slam.
It was all Hermione could do not to sink to the floor and hyperventilate.
"Kreacher!" Harry called. The elf appeared instantly. "Would you mind fixing a cup of tea with calming tonic?"
Kreacher was back with a steaming kettle in a trice, offering a cup to Hermione. She took it with trembling hands, finding that the first sip tasted of honey and cardamom, and instantly calmed the churning in her gut.
"I'm gonna kill him," Ginny muttered, smoothing Hermione's hair away from her shoulders
"He's your brother," Hermione said weakly.
"I don't care," said Ginny stubbornly. "He's a wanker and I'm going to hex him next time I see
him.'
"As long as it's not at the ball," Hermione mumbled. "I won't have you ruining that."
"Isn't there a way to keep him from coming?" Harry asked. "It seems like a bad idea to allow him in, at this point."
*I would get stomped by the press if I uninvited him," Hermione said. "If he causes a scene, I can always call security and have him escorted out. Again." She sighed and drank another gulp of the
lea
Harry and Ginny both looked unsure about this plan, but didn't say anything.
"Hermione.." Harry said tentatively. "We won't tell anyone, promise, but... who are you bringing to the ball?"
Hermione closed her eyes, fighting the urge to scream. This was all a mistake. She had to do something. There was no possible way she could bring Draco Malfoy, the boy who had terrorized her and her friends for years, to her event as her date. Even if it was the perfect way to spite Ron, it made her sick to think that Harry would hate her for it too.
"Er, no one," Hermione said, avoiding his eyes. She stood up and set her tea down. "I'm going to call it off. I'll just go alone."
Shrugging off their attempts to get more information from her, Hermione left, slipping on her coat as she made her way through the snow drifting down outside.
She would have to write to Draco tonight, she decided. It was a stupid plan to begin with.