Disclaimer: If I had actually written Harry Potter, then I think we'd all know that the 7th book would never have ended up as it did...It belongs to J. K. Rowling.
A/N: PLEASE READ!
Dear readers, I know you're all eager to get on to the story so I'll make this short. The response I got for the last chapter was overwhelming and I think it's safe to say that the people voting for the happy ending won by a land slide.
I have given it careful thought and well...I've come to few decisions myself taking into mind both your wishes, mine and the reality of the situation.
Good news...I will very likely finish this story, hopefully by August.
And hopefully...the ending will be what you all want.
Hermione allowed the tears to blind her as she weaved her way through the muggle London streets. Midday and the roads were teeming with the lunch crowd, smoking, eating, and screaming with laughter while she wished desperately to join in the monotony of their weekday habit.
No one paid her a shred of attention as if a crying woman were the everyday norm and Hermione was just another in a long parade. She couldn't see where she was going nor did she know where she had been. She ignored all the indignant calls of bustling Londoners who stumbled inadvertently onto her path and who had to quickly extricate themselves from her stumbling path.
All she could think was…
Not again. Dear God. Not again.
But it was unavoidable; and yes, it had happened again. She had been betrayed by another man she had placed her trust in. Suddenly, sobbing openly in public didn't seem like such an offence for a dignified woman like Hermione. It was inevitable and natural and Hermione let it happen. She allowed her body to be wracked by the heaving sobs which came from deep within and shook her violently.
Her throat hurt and her eyes were swollen and soon enough, the tears dried into nothing but waves of emotion. Betrayal and sadness burned like fire in her chest and Hermione rubbed the ache until the visceral pain became superficial too and a red mark lay vibrant on her chest.
She asked herself again and again why this had happened, where in her association with Draco…with Malfoy she had gone wrong.
"Stupid! Stupid!" Hermione's voice was husky as she admonished herself. Opening her eyes slightly, she took note of her familiar surroundings and was relieved that in her mindless tears, at least her subconscious had led her home. She was mere feet from her doorstep and Hermione had never been happier to see her doorman come into view.
The man gave Hermione a weary look but she rushed past with a quick greeting and frantically jabbed at the elevator button. Hermione waited for less than a second before her impatience overcame her and she launched herself up the flight of stairs and burst into her apartment.
Throwing her keys clear across the room, she felt her knees weaken and her back hit the panelled kitchen bench top. Listlessly, she slid to the floor and collapsed on the cool hardwood floor, trying to ground herself as her palms slapped at the floor until they were numb.
This was happening and the numb reality was finally beginning to set in. As painful and confusing as it was, Hermione forced her mind back to what Dimitri had said and what she had seen in that bedroom. The odd patterns on the walls, the almost imperceptible hum of magic which crawled beneath her skin and the complete lack of denials from Draco himself…
Hermione pushed herself off the floor weakly, locking her knees as she felt the desperate desire to sink back down and ground herself to something more solid than her current reality. Stumbling, she crossed the room and pulled down her book of forbidden curses. Confirming what she already knew, Hermione allowed the wave of betrayal to wash over her, unhindered, pushed aside the grief, marked it as useless and finally arrived at the two emotions simmering at the pit of her stomach.
