The Longest Time

Chapter 3

Awakenings

Something has to make you run
I don't know why I didn't come
I feel as empty as a drum
I don't know why I didn't come
I don't know why I didn't come
I don't know why I didn't come

-Norah Jones, `Don´t Know Why´

It was early evening and Hermione was bringing in the dishes from her dinner, washing everything magically. The magical washing methods were one of the many things that Hermione felt made being a witch worth it, as it had been her least favorite chore as a child. And with the time she saved she could stand lazily in the kitchen and drink an early evening cup of tea. This evening though, Athena, her owl, popped in the owl-window above the stove, bringing the day´s mail and newspapers. There was Ron´s subscription to Quidditch Digest, an ad for Mrs. Skower´s All-Purpose Cleanser; the day´s Daily Prophet, and a postcard. When Hermione got to the postcard, and saw the handwriting on the back, she called out to Ron, who quickly came running. "Postcard. It´s from Ginny." She said, handing it to him. On the front was a picture of the Plaza de España in Madrid. The greenery was lush and inviting, the sky a perfect Mediterranean blue, and around the plaza walked tiny enchanted people who would disappear in the shadows before reappearing at the base of the monument to read its inscription. Hermione waited a moment as she watched Ron look at the picture, and then poked him. "Are you going to read it aloud, or do I have to take it back?"

"You mean you didn´t read it?" he asked, a shocked expression on his face.

"No, of course not. She´s your sister, so I thought that you should get to read it first," she reached out her hand to take the postcard. "But obviously you´re not in the mood to share, so I´ll just read it on my own." Ron laughed at her a little as she stood there, intent on having the postcard, hand out, a stern expression on her face.

"Fine, I´ll read it, but next time, you can read it first. She´s kind of like your sister too." Ron flushed slightly at the implications, but continued. "I mean, you spend so much time together, and you seem like such good friends, it´s like you´re sisters. Only you don´t have the red hair."

"I guess I could never be a Weasley then." Ron´s face fell slightly after an unusually offhanded remark from Hermione, but he tried to perk up again without her noticing.

"Right, well, why don´t you read it. You´ve got a nicer reading voice." He handed her the postcard, and walked over to the sitting area where he flopped down on a chair and grabbed Crookshanks, stroking (petting) him as Hermione smiled at him and read:

"Greetings from Barcelona! I´m so glad to be back in Europe, and as you can see, my last article was in the Daily Prophet. I really enjoyed South America, and had a very nice stopover in Spain, but it will be so nice to see you all again. I´m on my way to France, and will probably be in Paris for a few weeks. You both really should come down and visit for a long weekend while I´m here. Let me know, I´ll be staying at the Three Ducks. Love you both, G."

Hermione handed the postcard over to Ron and sat down on her chair. "Well, she sounds happy, doesn´t she?"

Ron sat for a moment, rereading the card and then another moment looking at Hermione and laughing to himself. "Yes, of course she does." He stood up and walked to his room, saying over his shoulder, " I´ve got some work to do, so I´ll be in my room most of the night if you need me." Hermione watched him walk out with too much bravado for a boy who had merely listened to a postcard read out loud.

It was nearly a month after Ron had kissed Hermione, and she had very nearly avoided seeing him at all during those first few days. What had he been thinking? Hermione had decided that it was just a spur of the moment sort of thing, but recently he had started looking at her longer when he thought she didn´t know. She didn´t like it. They were friends, sharing a flat, and she was still Harry´s girlfriend. And then it hit Hermione. She still thought of herself as somebody´s girlfriend, and yet her `boyfriend´ had been MIA for more than a year. It wasn´t Harry´s fault that he had disappeared, but could she wait the rest of her life for someone to come back when she wasn´t even sure he was still alive?

This was so much more difficult to decide than it had been when she became Harry´s girlfriend. She didn´t think he would ever leave her, and he had said he wouldn´t ever go. But he had, and Hermione decided that she needed to get out and do something other than mope about and wait for her brave Gryffindor soldier. No, she would be happy for a while, and would find happiness with people. After all, she was 19, and 19 is much too young to be a widow or an old maid. There had been boys in her classes at Merlin Hall, the wizarding university in Oxford, who appeared to like her, but she had always been too afraid or too nervous to take any of the boys up on their offers of lunch or dinner. But now she was starting to get over Harry. She wasn´t going to forget him, and she could still keep up hope, but she couldn´t let it get in the way of any other happiness that might come her way. As she decided this, she pinned Ginny´s postcard to a corkboard and walked back towards her room. But on her way, she heard the wizarding wireless in Ron´s room, playing the Spellbound Boys full blast. Hermione peeped in to find Ron practicing his dance moves and singing into his wand. Hermione couldn´t help but snort and Ron quickly put his wand behind his back, and then pulled it out again to turn off the wireless player. "Work?" Hermione giggled. "Right..." she said as she walked over to her own room.

***

Ginny was tired. It seemed as if she were always tired these days, but she kept telling herself that if she was going to be a real journalist, this was the way it was going to be. Besides, this was what Sunday mornings were for: sleeping late and having just a little bit of relaxation. And now that she was in Paris, everything seemed to have a different light about it, the buildings seemed to glow in the early morning, and everything turned pink by evening. It was possibly one of the most enchanting places she had visited, and few of the cities in the Americas compared. Sure, New York had a dazzling skyline and all the lights sparkled by themselves, while Santiago seemed to be like a bowl of stars as the sun set in the valley that contained the city, but nothing was like Paris. This was her third evening here, and already, she knew it would be hard to leave.

Something about the city was intoxicating her; calling her to walk its streets every day and all night. She had gone through the Place de la Madeleine, the flower district, and had come out the other end to encounter a boulongerie and a café on one side of a square, a beautiful little oasis of color and life in the center of the city. Chance encounters like this in the city were what made her love it more than any other she had visited so far.

Normally the hostels that she stayed in were quite nice, like living in a dorm again, but the one that she was staying in this time, the Three Ducks, also had a pub connected to it of the same name. This had been one of the reasons that she had chosen it, because it would remind her of home, but now that she was staying there, she almost started to regret it. On her very first night in, she had been down in the common room and was just organizing her papers, and perhaps thinking about starting to read a book, when a group of drunken young men walked over from the pub. They were obviously smashed, and the room stank of beer. That had been what had driven Ginny to the streets, and she had barely been anywhere else.

The money she was making from her freelance work with the Daily Prophet was pretty decent, and since they would cover her rooming costs, Ginny had quite a bit of pocket change. She had been saving it up for when she was here, and decided that the very first thing she would do was to buy. One of her roommates in the last hostel she stayed at in Spain had had a copy of Vogue, a magazine that Muggle women read, but Ginny had flipped through it and seen some of the most beautiful and interesting clothes she had ever seen. She had decided to make a trip to one of the designer shops and to also go to the branch of Gladrags here in Paris, which she heard had some more modern robe and cloak designs. For the first time, Ginny decided, she wasn´t going to have to look poor. She wanted to walk down the street and have people think about how beautiful her clothes were.

And so, this is how it came to be that Miss Virginia Weasley came to be walking in the fashion district, and was passing through the street, when suddenly she felt like she was being watched. She came to a sudden stop, and then looked behind her. To her right was another of the many cafes that seemed to dot the streets. Since it was getting colder, there were fewer customers sitting outside, but one, who sat by himself, surprised her greatly. A young man with floppy blonde hair sat at one of the outer tables and alternately sipped at his coffee and stared at her. It took Ginny a moment to realize who it was, because she was in France and didn´t expect to see anyone she knew, but as soon as her expression changed to one of recognition, Draco didn´t take his eyes off of her.

The moment was awkward for them both. Ginny hadn´t seen Draco since the night of the leaving feast nearly two years ago, although she had heard a few rumors. On their first day back at Hogwarts the year after, word went around that the Malfoys had lost nearly all of their wealth and power after Lucius had died and the Aurors had swept through their home, taking all the dark materials that were stored there. A few months later, everyone was saying how the Malfoys had moved out of the country so that they could stay with Narcissa´s family, but nobody knew where it was. Apparently, `where it was´ was somewhere in France, because here was Draco, staring at Ginny from a café in the streets of Paris.

They stared at each other for a moment more before Draco stood up. Then Ginny found herself walking towards him. When they were finally standing face to face, Ginny looked down, trying to find something to say, but instead found herself admiring Draco´s shoes. She looked up, about to say something when he broke the silence. "Would you like to sit down?"

Ginny smiled, and nodded. As she sat, her voice finally came back. "I´m so glad it was actually you. Imagine if it had been some very strange French man staring at me. That would have been weird, wouldn´t it?" She blurted this all out so fast that she was done speaking even before the waiter had a chance to come over and take her order.

When the waiter had gone, she looked over towards Draco, only to have him smiling at her. "I wouldn´t be surprised if men don´t stare at you already," he put his hand on hers and said, "You´re lovely." Ginny barely had time to blush before he added, "When did that happen?"

Ginny paused for a moment, confused, and then the waiter brought her café-au-lait. The cup clinked on to the saucer and the sound pushed Ginny over the edge. She broke down and began to cry into her hands. This sort of obvious display of emotion was foreign to Draco, who didn´t know how to react or how to make her feel better. He put his hand on her shoulder, patting her awkwardly. When Ginny felt his arm, she automatically leant in and started to cry on his shirt. Draco pulled her to him more closely and started to stroke her hair, and then he did something that surprised even Ginny. Faint calming noises started to issue from his lips, and Ginny stopped crying for a moment to direct her eyes upwards. Draco looked down at her and then pushed her back into a normal sitting position. "You all right now? Because I don´t want to ever have to do that in public again." He looked at her with concern for a moment without blinking.

Ginny wiped away the tears, and said, "Yeah, I think I´m going to be fine. It´s just that I´ve been alone for quite a bit now, and it´s so difficult. I´ve met some very nice people, but it´s still not the same. It´s been nearly nine months that I´ve been gone and I miss everyone so much. I guess I didn´t realize how lonely I´ve been." She wiped the tearstains off of her face, and smiled. "Promise to forget I ever did anything so silly as to cry in front of you?"

Draco looked at her with consideration for a moment before saying, "Only if you let me take you out some night while you´re here. You´d be surprised how boring it is living with a bunch of middle aged French women." Ginny laughed, and then thought of the strangeness of her laughing at something that Draco Malfoy had said. He looked at her hopefully and then said, "So you´ll come?" She nodded and then wrote down the address of the hostel, leaving her room number, and as she left, she pecked him on the cheek, in the spirit of being on the Continent. He gave her a confused look and then appeared to be thinking and nodding, as if making it all make sense. Ginny laughed to herself and then started the walk back.

She had planned to spend the next day out on the streets finding witches and wizards to talk to, but she never quite got around to it. As she was about to leave the room, an owl glided in. Ginny was quite impressed, as it was an eagle owl of considerable size and sleekness. The owl held out its leg, which held a letter, and continued to stare unblinkingly forward. Ginny thought this very strange, as most post owls seemed to be either very friendly, or in a great hurry. But she untied the letter and tried to pat the owl on its head, but it flew off before she had a chance.

More than slightly disturbed, she sat down with the letter and began to read, thinking that this was a reply from Hermione or Ron. Much to her surprise, it was a dinner invitation from Draco, or at least that´s what she thought it was. It said, "I´m taking you out tonight, and I won´t take no for an answer. Wear something extremely beautiful, I don´t want to stand out." This last part distressed her a little, as she didn´t have a whole lot to wear that was extremely beautiful. She wondered where he might take her that she would stand out if caught wearing something less than spectacular. She sighed aloud as she stood and walked to the door, thinking that the only thing she had to do was to go shopping. Of course none of the things she had bought on her last shopping trip were appropriate for...was this a date? Ginny shook the thought out of her head, and headed out.

Wandering around in Paris, Ginny wasn´t quite sure where to go with the little spending money she had left to find something gorgeous. She wandered in to a few shops and saw some nice things, and wandered right back out when she saw the prices. Luckily, one of the Muggle shops she walked into seemed to be the least expensive yet, and though there were many of the tacky trendy items reserved for young girls who didn´t know exactly how to shop, there were a few very nice, pretty things. After about ten minutes, Ginny saw it. The dress that she knew would be perfect. It was black, with a single ruffle along the neck that became a strap. It was not too short, but not too prude either. She stood in line for what seemed like forever, just to try on the dress, but luckily, it fit perfectly. All the lines seemed fluid on her body, and the sheer black layers made her skin seem very pale and creamy. This was it. After paying for the dress, Ginny walked back to the hostel, and congratulated herself for being so clever, before going out and starting research for her next Daily Prophet article.

***

That evening passed entirely too quickly. Draco picked Ginny up at the hostel, and they were soon on their way. Ginny kept asking where he was taking her, but he wouldn´t tell. But as they walked towards the main boulevard, Ginny knew it must be something important. And when she had finally felt she couldn´t walk any longer, Draco led her into a large beautiful building. Inside was stunning. As she marveled at the wonderfulness of it all, she managed to breathe, "What is this place?"

Draco leaned in close, and said, "It´s the Comedie-Francaise. Mother says it´s the only place to hear the French language spoken well." He took her hand and they went to their seats.

As they sat down in the private box, and the lights went down, Ginny whispered to Draco, "I can´t believe I´m here. It´s so beautiful." He looked back at her and smiled and then the play began. They both listened intently and Ginny was very glad that she had thought to learn the audio-translator spells before going abroad; they made evenings like this more enjoyable because she was able to appreciate what the actors were saying without having to learn French. She continued to watch the performance, but every once in a while, she could see out of the corner of her eye that Draco wasn´t watching the show, but was watching her instead. The one time she moved her head to look back at him, he had quickly shifted his gaze back to the stage, leaving Ginny confused, a little embarrassed, and quite curious. As the show came to an end, she picked up her purse and shawl and turned to Draco. "Ready?" He nodded and they left the box.

They stepped outside the theater, Ginny walking close to Draco, and after a moment, he took her hand without flinching. Such a forward gesture was completely foreign to Ginny, and she looked down to see her own hand in his. She raised her glance to look at him, and then, without thinking, she heard herself say, "When did you get to be so nice?" Immediately after saying this, she stopped, and watched as Draco took one more step, then also stopped. He turned slowly, and then stared at her for a moment. His eyes seemed so soft, but the way he looked at her so intently made Ginny feel helpless. She shook her head a little and tried to question the pause with her eyes, but he looked away towards a side street. Before she knew what was happening, Ginny felt herself being pulled into an empty alley, and moved so that she was against a wall.

Suddenly, Ginny felt scared. Perhaps all the things that Ron had ever said about Draco being a horrible person were right. Perhaps he had only taken her out so that he could lull her into a dreamy state and then he was going to do something terrible to her. Her mind moved faster and faster, but before she knew it, she felt his lips against hers. His kiss was urgent, and his hands were on her neck and running through her hair. And before she could feel anything else, Ginny felt herself returning the kiss, moving with equal force into his body and still feeling trapped. Suddenly he pulled away, and she could hear both of them breathing heavily.

"I´ve wanted to do that for about a year now. I thought I´d never see you again." His hands were slowly moving along her face and neck, and he brushed back her hair. "And I haven´t changed, you just treat me like I am a person, and equal. Your brothers always treated me like scum, of course I was horrible back then. You make me feel like I´m worthwhile, and it´s been a long time since I´ve felt like that. Do you understand?" Ginny felt his hands against her face as she nodded, and then moved in to kiss him again.

When they finally emerged from the side street, Ginny was wearing his jacket, and Draco had his arm around her waist, holding her close to him. They walked slowly back to her hostel, where he kissed her softly once more, before he disappeared into the night, leaving behind a slightly starstruck Ginny who slowly and dreamily stumbled her way back to her room.

***

Hermione sat, waiting impatiently in her magimolecular-potions class. She had never really gotten used to the idea of making a schedule that was completely different from anyone else in her year, having spent her seven years at Hogwarts at least having her core classes with Ron, Harry, and the rest of the Gryffindors. She would often feel very alone, sitting in a different class and knowing that only a few of these people were in some of her other classes. As she sat, she decided to read ahead a few chapters, and as she did this, a few students slipped into the classroom, and a girl took a seat beside hers. Out of the corner of her eye, Hermione could see the girl leaning over and reaching into her bookbag, which was sitting on the floor, but the thing that caught her attention was a head of beautiful golden curls. Hermione stopped reading and looked jealously at the perfect ringlets that were tight and beautiful, albeit very close to the girl´s head. When the girl sat up, she sat straight and smiled at Hermione. The girl had a very nice smile, but otherwise she was very plain looking. `Hullo. I´m Iseult Rowan. You´re in my advanced theoretical Arithmancy class, aren´t you?"

Hermione hesitated, and stuck out her hand, nervous that this girl had only recognized her for being Hermione Granger, friend of Harry, girlfriend of the fallen, but she was soon won over by the bright smile, and the face that didn´t seem capable of being mean. "Yeah, I think I am in your class Iseult. I´m Hermione Granger." She waited for the awkward pause that usually followed with the recognition, but it didn´t come. Instead, Iseult kept talking, going on about their professor and the homework that would be due for next class. When she slowed down for a moment, Hermione found a chance to interrupt. "You have the most gorgeous hair," she said, her voice full of envy and admiration.

Iseult smiled and blushed a little bit. "Well...it used to be longer, but it was just so frustrating, and I felt I couldn´t deal with it any longer. It´s a lot easier to manage this way." At that moment the professor walked in, and everyone got very quiet as the lesson started. Every once in a while, Hermione would look over at Iseult, who would look back at her and smile. It was one of the most enjoyable classes that Hermione could remember, not just because the lesson material was interesting, but because there was someone there who seemed to enjoy learning about everything as much as she did. That was one of the few faults she found in her friendships with Harry and Ron. She had always hoped that maybe they would not goof off in class, and afterwards they could all sit around and discuss the interesting things they had just learned, and perhaps find practical applications for all of it. Instead, the boys had wanted to break rules in order to figure out whatever the current mystery was at Hogwarts. Luckily, Hermione could usually find a way to apply things they had learned in the breaking of the rules, and therefore felt it was more of a learning experience because of it. But now, it seemed like she might actually have one of those friends who would discuss school with her. And it was a girl.

Soon, the class began to wrap up, and as Hermione began to put her notes into her bookbag, she stood up, and found herself face to face with Iseult. "Would you like to go and get some coffee, or if you´re done with classes, I know this great little pub, and we could have a butterbeer?" Her face was so hopeful, and Hermione didn´t have any more classes that day. Besides, she had always wanted a girlfriend, someone to really talk to about important things. Parvati and Lavender had almost been like that, but now Parvati was dead, and Lavender was off having a crisis because of Seamus. Why not?

Hermione smiled at Iseult and said, "Are you free now?" A few moments later they were in the wizarding section of the covered market, at a pub that Hermione had never bothered to notice. It was fairly dirty, possibly even more so than the Leaky Cauldron, but it had a very nice atmosphere. They found that they had a great deal in common, and the conversation was never lacking. Hermione discovered that Iseult was concentrating in Arithmancy, which was interesting for Hermione who had taken Arithmancy all through Hogwarts, but had decided to study theoretical magic at Merlin. Iseult had been home-schooled of sorts, with a group of other young witches and wizards from magical families who didn´t want to send their children to Hogwarts. Hermione found herself sharing things about herself, and feeling a wondrous rush at learning so much about a person in so little time. At one point, Hermione even screwed up some of her Gryffindor courage and said, "So, did you know who I was when you first sat down?"

Iseult squirmed a little in her chair a little bit before finally saying, "I´d heard you were here. Everyone knew that, and I thought that I might like to meet you. But this morning I didn´t know it was you until you introduced yourself. You should congratulate yourself on being able to blend in with the rest of the student population so well." She smiled weakly, and then continued, "But you´re a lot nicer than I thought, much less snobbish. I´m so glad that we might be able to be friends."

The last part was almost a question, so Hermione smiled and said. "You know, I´ve never really had a good girlfriend, so I´m glad that we met too. And I haven´t had a lot of friends since I´ve come here either. I´ve spent most of my free time with Ron at home or studying." Iseult gasped a little, and then looked shocked at having done that in front of Hermione.

"I´m sorry, it´s just that I´d read in one of the papers that you were living with him, but I just didn´t think it could be true. I thought it was something that Witch Weekly made up just because you weren´t with Harry anymo..." Iseult stopped. "I shouldn´t have said that. Let´s talk about something else, ok?" Hermione nodded, very happy to avoid talking about Harry with someone she had only just met. After that, the conversation moved smoothly, and soon their tankards were empty.

Hermione felt awkward again and scrounged for something else to talk about. "Have you got a boyfriend?" She knew this was a good question to ask as soon as she saw Iseult´s face; it was flushed, but she was smiling and biting her lip.

"Well, I think I might," she said quickly.

Hermione was genuinely excited. "What do you mean that you might have a boyfriend? You´ve either got one or you haven´t!"

Iseult smiled again and said, "Well, I was at a party, and everyone had been dancing and drinking and laughing, and he, well...his name is...oh it sounds so silly! His name is Wendt. But we, well, he...he kissed me. And maybe it was because we were both a little drunk, but it was nice, and the other day, he sent me an owl to see how I was doing. So," she said brightly, "that´s how it´s maybe." She smiled again, even wider, and then took a last sip of her drink, and then set down her tankard, and looked over at Hermione. "So...you. How´s your man?" she said completely nonchalantly.

Hermione felt herself redden and pale at the same time. "Well," she murmured, "I don´t know exactly. It´s all very confusing, and I´m trying to figure out exactly what´s happening. And I don´t even know if he´s had a chance to think about it." She paused, and finished her drink, and looked at the bottom of her tankard as she said, "I just wish I could see him again." She looked up from her drink and saw Iseult giving her a confused look. They both sat there in silence for a moment.

"I meant Ron, and for a moment there, I thought you meant Ron too." Iseult finally said.

Hermione was startled. "But Harry is my boyfriend, or, he was my boyfriend."

Iseult leaned in, "But you haven´t seen him for nearly two years, and you´re living with a man who from what you´ve said is obviously in love with you, and yet you hang on to someone who might not come back."

Hermione sat quietly back in her stool, shocked to hear someone say out loud for the first time what she had secretly been thinking and feeling all along. She finally found herself saying quietly, almost to herself, "You know, I really hadn´t ever thought of Ron like that." She paused. "What do you mean he´s obviously in love with me?"

***

Ron and Hermione sat down to dinner that night, not having much to say and generally avoiding conversation. They ate slowly, staring down at their food until Hermione couldn´t stand the silence anymore.

"So I made a new friend today. Her name´s Iseult, and she´s just so very honest about everything." Ron looked up, and Hermione continued. "We went and had a drink after class, and it was quite funny because she´d got the idea somewhere that we were going out, and she wasn´t afraid to tell me to my face." His face didn´t change, so she looked back down at her food and pushed it around on her plate a little more.

Ron continued to look at her, finally saying, "What did you tell her?"

She bit her lip and said, "Well, it wasn´t really in that context." He gave her a look. "She asked me how my boyfriend was, and she meant you, and I thought she meant Harry." Her voice trailed off. She looked up in time to see his face fall slightly. This isn´t going well, she thought, but I´ve got to tell him. "We talked some more, and she said something about how I should be moving on at this point." She took another deep breath. "And I agree with her."

There was a long pause where Ron looked away. "Why are you listening to someone tell you what to do when you haven´t even known her a day? But other than that, you´re ready to move on? And not just because other people are telling you to?" Hermione took a deep breath and cleared her mind. This had been one of the things she wasn´t quite sure of. She stared blankly at the table, and as she did this, Ron stood up. "You´re not ready yet, and even though...Yes, I do want to be with you, I don´t think you´re ready, and I can´t be with you until then." He began to clear his plate, and Hermione paused a half second before going to Ron and smashing her lips against his. For a moment it was awkward because Hermione was a little out of practice, and Ron was still holding his plate.

But slowly they both settled in, Ron dropped the plate and moved his hands to her waist. Her hands, which had been clamped to his face, slowly moved across his cheeks, and then behind his neck, finally resting her arms on his shoulders and running her arms through his cropped hair.

Slowly, like breathing out, they came apart. Ron pulled her closer and they stood quietly, foreheads pressed together when Ron said, "Well, maybe you´re ready."