Wanderer

White Butterflies

AN: So I wrote this chapter really quickly today! It's a bit of a filler, but it's mainly some respite, some calm after the storm I suppose (because last chapter was 6,000 words of PURE STORM). I know the trial was the biggest plot driving force for the first 24 chapters but trust me when I say that their story is far from over.

Chapter Twenty Five- White Butterflies

March

"You're in an awfully good mood," said Ginny, plopping down at the table beside her.

Hermione glanced up from her essay, surprised. "How did you find me?"

The look on Ginny's face suggested that she shouldn't be so dense as to ask that, and her friend retrieved her own books from her bag. She didn't open them however, dropping them on the desk and using the pile to rest her arms and head on.

"When you're not sleeping, you're working," said Ginny, "and when you're working, you're usually at the library."

Hermione shot her a look, then rolled her eyes. "That's because it's usually quiet!"

Ginny grinned. She didn't reply, watching her friend duck her head and scratch her quill furiously across the page, pausing to dip it in the ink pot every now and then.

"I haven't asked," said Ginny suddenly.

Hermione glanced up at her. "Haven't asked what?"

"Why you wanted to help Malfoy," she said. Hermione stopped writing, word trailing unfinished on the parchment. "Why you roped Harry and Ron into helping him too. Why you cared about what happened to him at all, to be honest."

Hermione sighed and put her quill in her ink pot. "Ginny..."

"No," said Ginny. "Wait. I get why you didn't tell me, why Harry and Ron didn't tell me. To be honest, I'm still not sure what to think." She paused. "I guess I thought we were close. And I can't tell if I'm more hurt because it's Malfoy or because you didn't trust me enough to tell me what you were doing."

"It wasn't either of those things," said Hermione instantly. She sighed, and ran her fingers through her hair. "Ginny. I never planned this. I couldn't sleep one night so I went for a walk and I- I found him, sitting on the floor, the Ministry band around his ankle and I- Ginny, I'd never seen anyone look so broken. It felt wrong that the fighting could be over but the war was still going on-"

"Can't you see how unhealthy it is, Hermione?" asked Ginny, leaning forwards. "You're treating him like he's another mistreated House Elf. Focusing all your energy on fixing someone else, maybe something that can't be fixed, to take your mind off your own pain. I-"

She reached out and took Hermione's hand, a small frown pulling her eyebrows together. "It's okay to still feel scared. To still find it hard to sleep. To still wake up sometimes thinking you're back there," Ginny whispered. "Sometimes, I do too. But you don't have to- you don't have to give all of yourself into saving him. You need to keep some of yourself for saving you-"

"Ginny," said Hermione, shaking her head slightly. "You don't understand. He's my friend. I need him."

She added, more because she felt inclined to, "Besides, his trial is over. It's over now. He's safe."

"Hermione, if you think it's over, you're more oblivious than I thought."

Hermione frowned. But Ginny just stared at her, flicking between her eyes, searching her face. She must have found something, something Hermione hadn't meant to let slip, because understanding dawned in her eyes and she leaned back in her chair, letting the matter drop completely.