The Eternal Triangle

Chapter 7 - Be Careful What You Wish For

Seven Years Ago - continued

Ron was sitting in the kitchen, staring into his cup of tea, his thoughts on Hermione. Outwardly, he'd been supportive of her decision to leave but inwardly, he wished he could've stopped her. He didn't understand why she wanted to leave and he wondered what she was keeping from him because he was absolutely certain that there was something she wasn't telling him.

She'd been distant and rather cold towards him for the past few weeks before the battle. He hadn't really noticed with all that had been going on, but after he woke up from his coma, it had been more apparent. What puzzled him most was the way she blew hot and cold, one moment clinging to him almost in desperation and the next, she acted like she couldn't get away from him fast enough.

He growled in frustration, pushing his cold cup of tea away and dropped his head into his hands. That was how Harry found him.

"Ron?" he asked worriedly. "What's wrong? Is it Hermione?"

"Yes," he answered slowly, looking up at Harry.

Harry came to him and gripped his shoulder, frowning. "What happened?"

Ron looked from Harry's worried face to his hand gripping his shoulder and suddenly smiled comprehendingly. "Relax Harry. Nothing's happened to her."

"Oh," Harry said, relieved. Releasing Ron's shoulder, he dropped into the chair beside him. "So why were you looking like your best friend just died? I'm still alive, old Voldy's not got me yet," he said grinning.

"Ha, ha," Ron replied sarcastically. "She's gone back to her parents' and I'm worried about her."

"Come again?" Harry asked puzzled.

"Hermione. She's gone back to her parents'."

"Why should that worry you?"

"I'm not worried she's gone back there... well, I am actually. Her parents' house isn't as well shielded as here and we're not there to look after her. But it's Hermione herself I'm worried about. She's been acting really weird lately. Every time I ask, she says it's nothing, but I know there's something she's not telling me," he said in frustration.

Harry's hands clenched in his robes and he felt his stomach drop. Trying for a normal tone, he asked, "Wh--uh--what d'you think she's not telling you?"

"Wish I knew," Ron sighed, annoyed. "You know she's never good with keeping secrets, sooner or later she'll crack. Hope she tells me soon, though. It's driving me mad trying to figure out what's going on with her."

"When's she coming back?"

"Don't know." When he saw Harry looking at him skeptically, he snorted, "She doesn't know either. Say's she'll come back when she's ready... whenever that is!"

Ron got up and reached for his cane. "I'm going to the library. Might as well try to make myself useful - what with this blasted leg!" he snarled and hobbled out, his cane tapping angrily on the floor.

After Ron left, Harry exhaled the breath he hadn't realized he'd held. And this time, it was Harry who dropped his head into his hands.

..............................

Hermione had apparated directly into the front yard of her parents' home and let herself in with her key. The house was quiet as both her parents' were obviously at their dental clinic.

Walking up the stairs, she entered her bedroom and looked around. It had been months since she was last home but nothing had been disturbed. Even the book she'd left on her bedside table was still there.

There was a huge lump in her throat as she put her things away then sat at her writing desk, lost in thoughts. Her feelings were confused and chaotic. She wasn't certain running back to her parents' was the right thing to do - on reflection, it probably wasn't.

But what she said to Ron was true, she needed to get away from the impossible situation she was in. She was hoping that by distancing herself from the mess, maybe by some miracle, she could find a way out of the tangle she'd created.

She was walking around the neighbourhood a few days later when she ran into two girls - Jennifer and Brenda - whom she had gone to school with, before Hogwarts. They were both back from university for their semester break. They got to talking and exchanged news, though Hermione was careful not to let slip anything about the wizarding world. When they enquired about what she was doing at the moment, she told them she was a researcher for some obscure organization.

She ended up joining them for shopping trips and other outings and was introduced to Jen's and Brenda's other friends. She enjoyed their company, pretending that she was like them; a normal 18-year old, with nothing more serious to worry about than exams. But when she was alone, her troubles came back to haunt her and she got depressed again.

The girls had been pestering her to join them when they went to clubs and pubs but Hermione had never agreed.

"C'mon Hermione, it'll be fun! We just hang out and maybe dance for a bit," Brenda wheedled.

"Yeah," Jen continued. "You don't even have to drink if you don't want to, though that's part of the fun, actually," she grinned.

Jen and Brenda looked slyly at each other before Brenda said with a smirk, "Derek would love it if you joined us."

"Whatever do you mean?" Hermione asked, puzzled.

"Hermione," Jen said exasperatedly. "You were bloody brilliant when we were at school, so don't play dumb now!"

Hermione just looked blankly at them.

Brenda groaned. "That boy has got the hots for you and he's got it bad! Surely you've noticed how he looks at you?"

Hermione blushed scarlet. And Brenda and Jen cackled gleefully.

"So, what d'you think? Do you like him?" Brenda asked.

"I-I don't - no - I can't," she stuttered.

"Why not?" Jen demanded. "He's not that bad looking. No, I take that back. He's bloody hot! What's wrong with you girl?!"

Hermione just shook her head, still blushing.

"There's someone else," Brenda said shrewdly. "There is, isn't there?"

Jen was almost jumping up and down in excitement. "Tell! Tell! Spill it Hermione!" she shrieked.

Hermione didn't think she could blush any redder and just continued shaking her head.

"Oh, c'mon, you can tell us," Brenda coaxed.

Finally she laughed, looking at their excited faces. "Yes, there is someone else," she agreed. Her smile faded when she remembered that it wasn't one person but two.

"S'matter Hermione?" Jen asked, noticing her look.

She sighed sadly. "I - it's complicated."

"What is?" Brenda asked, looking speculatively at Hermione.

"Forget it," Hermione said miserably. "Let's - let's talk about something else, please?"

"Hermione," Brenda said compassionately, putting her hand atop hers. "If you're in a spot of trouble, why don't you try telling us? We might be able to help - or we might not. But I always find talking about your troubles with someone else puts it in a fresh perspective."

Jen nodded in agreement, smiling encouragingly at Hermione.

She was touched. She never thought they'd want to know her troubles, after all, she'd known them for only a little more than a week.

"Brenda...Jen. I - I don't know what to say," she said, smiling tremulously. "Th-thank you."

"Hey, we've known each other since we were six, remember?" Jen asked seriously. "It's not like we're strangers."

Giving them a startled look, she nodded her head. She had forgotten that she'd actually known them since they were children.

"I don't know if - if I should tell you. It's complicated and I've made - I've made rather a mess of things," she sighed resignedly.

"Tell us," Brenda encouraged. "We'll help if we can. After all, three heads should be better than one, right?" she said, smiling slightly.

She looked at Brenda and Jen, considering them for a moment. Then, making up her mind, told them the reason she'd come home. Of course, she skirted around anything connected to the wizarding world, but apart from that, she poured her heart out to them.

She was grateful she could finally talk to someone about what had happened. Hermione had never had any girlfriends before, apart from Ginny, and she obviously couldn't talk about the situation with her. After she finished, she experienced such a feeling of relief for letting it all out after having bottled up her feelings for so long.

"Phew," Jen breathed. "That's quite a situation you've got there."

"Since you love Ron and he loves you too--" Brenda started, but Hermione cut her off.

"I love Harry too, and I can't let him down. He's - he's been through too much," she whispered sadly. "I can't tell you about it but believe me, you wouldn't wish his fate on your worst enemy!

"He's a wonderful, wonderful person and my best friend and I cannot break his heart!" Hermione cried.

"So you'd rather break your own?" asked Brenda.

"Yes!" Hermione replied vehemently, then repeated in a miserable whisper, "Yes..."

"What about Ron? Breaking your own heart's entirely up to you but are you being fair to Ron? If you're going to break his heart, shouldn't he at least know why?" Brenda asked quietly.

Hermione shook her head sadly, her eyes sparking with tears and looked glumly at them.

"From what you've told us," Brenda continued, "Ron would be more than willing to sacrifice for Harry too, right?"

Hermione nodded her head in agreement. "You have no idea..." she said in a choked voice.

"Then tell him! He'll understand and support you rather than hate you," Brenda urged, looking sorrowfully at Hermione. "That's what's eating you most, isn't it? The fact that you're betraying Ron - and that he'll hate you if he found out."

"Oh dear god, yes!" she agreed in anguish, dropping her head into her hands.

Jen came and patted her on the back. "I've an idea. At the moment, everybody's miserable. Well, except for Ron 'cause he doesn't know anything yet. So, why not have a heartbreak galore?"

"Heartbreak galore?" Brenda asked. "What crazy idea have you come up with now, Jen?" she continued exasperatedly.

Jen grinned mischievously and elaborated. "Exactly what I said! Heartbreak galore, nobody gets what they want. Ron doesn't get Hermione, Harry doesn't get Hermione and Hermione doesn't get Ron."

"And that's supposed to be a good idea?" Hermione asked acerbically, her exasperation with Jen overcoming her sorrow.

"Sure!" Jen agreed, smiling smugly.

Brenda and Hermione gaped at Jen then turned to look at each other. Brenda's mouth started twitching and Hermione's soon followed suit. Before long, they were both howling with laughter while Jen glared playfully at them.

That was why Hermione found herself a week later, sitting at a muggle bar - depressed and confused - drinking herself half blind; trying to ignore Derek, who had draped himself all over her and cursing Jen for her so-called 'good' idea.

Things went downhill from there.

Derek, who also had a bit too much to drink, started to grope her and she'd been pushing him away, to no avail. The music was loud and pulsing and when he realized she wasn't responding, he pulled her onto the crowded dance floor. She nearly toppled as she was wearing ridiculously high stiletto heels - another 'brilliant' idea of Jen's - and the amount of alcohol she'd consumed was making her head spin.

They didn't so much dance - Hermione was amazed she could even still stand - but Derek simply pulled her to him and forced her body to follow his movements. Which was even worse as far as she was concerned because now she was plastered to him - partly out of necessity as there wasn't room to move more than a few inches - and could feel every inch of his body. She shuddered with revulsion.

When I get hold of you Jen, you are so dead! D-E-A-D dead!! She fumed to herself, trying to put as much distance between Derek and her.

With a strong shove towards Derek which nearly unbalanced her as well, she turned and squeezed herself through the crowd and managed to reach a dark corridor at the back of the club. She wanted to find the back exit and then get a taxi home. If she tried to apparate in her present condition, she'd probably splinch herself.

Somebody grabbed her arm from behind and spun her around. She stumbled and fell into him. Before she could get her balance, she was pinned to the wall with her hands held above her head.

It was Derek and he leered lustfully at her. "You're not getting away this time," he growled. Groping her roughly, he ground his pelvis into her and kissed his way down her neck.

"Get off me!" she screamed and struggled furiously.

"Scream all you want," he slurred in her ear, his breath hot. "Nobody's goin' t'hear you." He plunged his mouth on hers and his tongue thrust in, making her gag. She bit his tongue viciously and he reared away from her, spitting out blood.

"You little bitch!" he hissed angrily and raised his fist to hit her.

His wrist was grabbed from behind and a cold voice drawled, "I wouldn't do that, if I were you."

Her heart thumping wildly, she peeked over Derek's shoulder and saw the last person she wanted to see in such a situation and groaned silently to herself. Oh no, anybody but him...!

Derek wrenched his hand away, almost hitting Hermione, and turned to face this new threat. "What's it to you, pretty boy?" he sneered.

Once Derek let go of her hands, Hermione quickly slid her wand from her arm holster, which had been concealed under her sleeve.

"Well, it's nothing to me, personally," he replied arrogantly to Derek. "But do you know just who you're tangling with?"

"Her?" Derek asked, derisively, inclining his head towards Hermione without looking at her.

Which was a big mistake because Hermione stunned him before he could say another word. When he collapsed to the floor, she kicked his unconscious form viciously just to vent her spleen. Unfortunately, she lost her balance and tripped over Derek and would have fallen if he hadn't stepped forward and caught her.

"Beautiful performance, Granger. Top form as usual," he smirked.

"Shut it," she slurred in annoyance, still hanging on to him. Her head was spinning and she felt like throwing up. Taking several deep breaths to calm the nausea, she finally released him and walked away - or at least tried to.

She'd only taken a few steps before the world spun sickeningly and she swayed. Before she could fall, his arms were around her, holding her up.

"You're drunk," he said, looking amusedly at her.

"Tell me something I don't know," she growled. "Ooh my head," Hermione groaned. "I need to get home," she continued in a miserable voice.

"How do you plan on doing that?" he enquired with a smirk. "Apparating?"

"I'm drunk, not stupid," she snapped back and groaned again when her head throbbed. Looking blearily up at him, she asked, "What are you doing here anyway?"

"Change of scene," he drawled lazily. "I might ask the same of you, Granger," he continued, looking her up and down with eyebrows raised; his eyes lingering on her tight, low cut top and short skirt. "Quite a change of scene for you."

"Oh, shut up," she retorted. "You got a car?" she asked him hopefully. When he shook his head, she let her head fall in defeat. Oh, this was absolutely brilliant. She was in no condition to go about looking for a taxi - she was still holding on to him or she'd fall flat on her face, for goodness sakes! Now what?!

She must have said the last bit out loud because he replied, "You could come back to my place to sober up then apparate back, if you want."

When she looked up at him in shock and disbelief, he drawled lazily, "Or I can just let go...?" He pretended to let go of her. She squeaked and clutched his arms desperately. Grinning wickedly, he said, "Thought you wouldn't want that."

Holding something out, he made her touch it and she felt the familiar tugging sensation and was propelled forward. She landed on what felt like a carpet and promptly threw up.

"Gods Granger, you're ruining my carpet!" he complained as she continued to heave. But instead of leaving her, he pulled her hair away from her face and rubbed her back soothingly.

"Done?" he asked softly and she nodded. Helping her to her feet, he scooped her up in his arms and she soon felt herself being placed on a bed. His hand tenderly pushed her hair away from her face before walking away.

Why is he being so nice to her? Is it really him or is this a drunken dream? She asked herself, absolutely shocked and puzzled.

He came back and proffered a damp towel to her while his other hand held a glass of water. She just looked wide-eyed at him and didn't take the towel. He sighed exasperatedly, placed the glass on the bedside table and proceeded to gently wipe her face and neck with the towel. When he was done, he took the water and lifted her head to help her drink.

"I'm dreaming, right?" she asked wonderingly, once he took the glass away. "Who are you...?"

He didn't reply but instead removed her shoes and pulled the covers over her. "Just rest, okay?" he said softly, touching her hair lightly before walking away, shutting the door after him.

This was bizarre! Shaking her head, she snuggled deeper into the bed. She was too tired to think about this now and soon drifted off to sleep.

Hermione woke up with a splitting headache and groaned. She cautiously opened her eyes and looked around, glad the world wasn't spinning. She was lying in a large bed with dark silk sheets under a thick, soft velvet cover. The bedroom was large and luxurious, dimly illuminated in a soft, golden light, though she couldn't see where it came from. She didn't move and just enjoyed the sensation of lying in this soft, warm bed. Even her headache receded a bit.

Then she remembered the events of the previous night and frowned. Her curiosity was getting the better of her so she got up. Surveying the room, she saw a few doors and went to investigate. The first door led to a huge walk in closet, filled with all manner of men's attire. Sweeping her eyes cursorily around, she noted that everything seemed to be of the finest quality. Figures, she thought derisively.

The next door revealed a bathroom and unconsciously, her breath hitched in wonderment as she saw the beauty and luxury within. She entered slowly and looked appreciatively around. Running her hand over the fittings with its gold trim and smooth marble counters, she sighed again. What a pity such luxury and beauty was wasted on him!

She decided to enjoy the bathroom - and not think about whom all this belonged to - as she filled the bathtub, positively needing to scrub off last nights' filth and. Half an hour later, she emerged wrapped in a fluffy bathrobe and her wet hair in a towel. Her wand was in her hand and she flicked it, turning on a few more lamps so that the room was brighter. Laying her wand on the dresser, she looked in the mirror and gasped. His image was reflected there, leaning nonchalantly in the doorway, watching her.

She whirled around and glared at him. "So, last night wasn't a dream?" she asked, arching an eyebrow in disdain.

He pushed off from the doorway and walked towards her, his eyes never leaving hers. He stopped so near that she had to look up into his face. "Why should it be a dream?" he murmured, raising a hand and running the back of his fingers gently on her cheek.

She flinched and stepped back, wincing when she hit the edge of the dresser.

"Stop that," she hissed, pushing his hand away.

Instead, he stepped closer, his long fingers closing on her wrist. She brought her other hand to his shoulder and pushed desperately, but he caught that hand too and brought both hands behind her back, holding them in one of his. Trapping her between his body and the dresser, he placed his other hand on her hip and dragged her body flush against his. Bending his head, he ran his lips to the side of her neck, nipping softly. She could feel his erection pressing into her.

"What are you doing? Get away from me!" she shrieked in panic.

Instead he released her hip and ground his pelvis into her. Picking up her wand behind her, he muttered a spell and Hermione slumped into him. When she looked up again a moment later, her eyes were bright with lust and instead of pushing him away, she pulled him to her and met his lips with her own.

Hermione awoke slowly, feeling so warm and comfortable and ran her hand gently along his arm which was draped over her midriff, just below her breast. She turned around to face him and slowly cracked her eyes open. When her brain registered who was lying next to her, she bolted from the bed in sheer horror. Suddenly remembering everything they'd done, she blanched and nearly retched with revulsion.

Looking around frantically for her wand, she spied it still on the dresser. Grabbing it, she ran into the bathroom where she'd left her clothes, quickly transfiguring the short skirt and tight top into jeans and t-shirt and the ridiculous stilettos into trainers. Dressing quickly, she was just about to apparate when she heard his voice.

"Running away?" he asked mockingly. He was standing in the doorway, looking at her arrogantly.

"You vile, evil, despicable--" she said, sputtering with rage. "You put a lust charm on me, didn't you? WHY?!" she wailed in anger and frustration.

"Why?" he drawled, arching an eyebrow interrogatively.

"Yes, WHY?!" she screamed. "You hate me. According to you, I'm dirty and disgusting and touching me will taint you. If you wanted sex, why didn't you get it from one of your own kind? Why ruin my life? Or are you so loathsome, even your kind don't want you?!" she raged bitterly at him.

He flushed. "I didn't want one of my kind, I wanted you," he said evenly, looking intently at her. "I've always wanted you," his voice was low and passionate as he walked slowly towards her.

He stopped a few feet away from her. "Hermione --" he said softly, with an undecipherable look in his pale eyes.

"I hate you. I hope you rot in hell!" she yelled furiously and dissaparated.

.................................

She stayed at her parents' for another week, trying to forget what had happened with him. Several times she contemplated memory charming herself so she could, but finally decided not to. Not because she wanted to remember, but was afraid she might lose some other memory and she couldn't afford to do that. Her mind needed to remain sharp and focused. Her mind was needed in the war effort.

Remus and Ron had been owling her with news while she had been at home and as much as she wanted to remain at her parents' - especially after what happened - she realized she couldn't be spared any longer. The Order needed her.

When she arrived at headquarters, a full meeting was in session. The Dark Lord was planning another major attack and the situation was dire. Neither Snape nor Draco had managed to get any concrete information. Voldemort was keeping the plan to himself, only releasing bits and pieces of information to his selected lieutenants.

She plunged herself right back to work like she'd never been gone.

It had been three weeks since she got back and in that time, she hardly saw Ron or Harry. They came back to headquarters infrequently for a few hours to brief the Order and sometimes, catch a quick meal.

Hermione had not been feeling well lately. She'd been unable to keep her food down, throwing up after almost every meal and she felt so lethargic, she kept falling asleep while reading. She was looking so pale and peaky, that even within all the chaos, Ron noticed.

"Hermione, are you okay?" he asked one day when he walked into the library and found her sleeping over her book.

"Wha--?" she said groggily, lifting her head. She yawned and stretched, smiling sleepily at him. "When did you get back?" she asked.

"Just walked in a few minutes ago," he replied, frowning at her.

"Hey, don't look at me like that," she said softly, reaching for him. "I'm okay."

He picked her up and settled her on his lap. She rested her head on his chest with a contented sigh. "I've missed you."

"I've missed you too, Hermione," he replied. He studied her pale face and the dark circles under her eyes. Smoothing her hair away from her face, he asked, "Are you sure you're alright?"

"Of course," she replied impatiently, pushing herself away from his chest and looking up. "When do you have to leave?"

"Tonight," he replied curtly. "And don't change the subject. Why don't you drop by St. Mungo's for a check-up--" his voice faltered seeing her glare. "Just to be sure, love. What's the harm?" he insisted.

"Ron, I don't need a check up - and I don't have the time either," she snapped, getting up off his lap.

He grabbed her around the waist, preventing her getting up. "Hermione..." he started, exasperatedly. "Will you stop being so stubborn? I'm just worried about you. I couldn't bear it if something happened to you," he continued, looking tenderly at her.

"Will you please go for a check-up?" he entreated softly.

She looked at him and her annoyance melted. Ron was looking at her with so much love and concern that her feeling of guilt rose up so strongly, she had to look away.

"I'll - I'll see," she mumbled, not meeting his eyes. Getting up of his lap, she said briskly, "I'd better get back to work. Go have a bath and a meal, I'm sure you need it. I'll see you before you leave." Giving him a quick kiss on his cheek, she walked back to her book.

Ron didn't leave but went on looking speculatively at her. "What?" she finally said in annoyance, looking up at him.

"You know you're cute when you're annoyed?" he teased.

"Rooonn," she growled irritatedly.

"What? I can't tell my fiancé that I think she's cute?"

She smiled exasperatedly at him. "You're impossible!"

"Ah, but you like me impossible," he said, wriggling his eyebrows at her and grinning wickedly.

She laughed out loud at his ridiculousness and just gazed lovingly at him for a moment. "Go away Ron," she said finally, looking down at her book. "I need to work."

He got up off his chair and came to her. Leaning down, he whispered huskily, "What you need to do..." nipping her ear, "is come and keep me company..." trailing his lips down her neck, "while I..." kissing the corner of her mouth, "bathe..."

"Ron," she protested weakly, blushing scarlet. And then his mouth was on hers... and work suddenly wasn't quite so important anymore.

It was only two weeks later that she went for a check up - after being nagged about it by not only Ron, but Harry and Molly as well.

"Miss Granger," said the mediwizard, smiling at her after her check up. "You'll be happy to know that there's nothing wrong with you."

"Then why am I tired all the time and throwing up?" she asked.

"Because the baby is taking a lot out of you."

"B-baby?" she faltered.

"Congratulations Miss Granger, you're pregnant." He smiled widely at her.

"I - are you sure?" she asked in a faint voice.

"Oh yes. Six weeks pregnant. All tests were positive. Absolutely no doubt about it."

"Six weeks..." her voice trailed off. "Con-conception would have been - ?"

The mediwizard picked up a calendar and circled a date. "Right there."

"Could your calculations be wrong?" she asked quietly. "Maybe I'm further along - or less?" Her heart was thumping wildly in panic. Please, please, let his calculations be wrong...

"Oh no, Miss Granger. These tests are very precise. At the most, maybe just three, or maximum four days off, either way."

"I - I see," she replied faintly. She knew exactly who she had been with six weeks ago.

He then went on about her needing to get in touch with a gynowizard and scheduling her next check up appointment. What she needed to do, what food she could or could not eat ...

But Hermione no longer heard him. She was in a daze and didn't even know how she left his office. She found herself on the streets in muggle London, just following where her feet took her.

She was a Gryffindor, she was supposed to be brave. But somehow, she couldn't find the courage to face the repercussions of having his child - or her family and friends.

She had wished she could leave the wizarding world...

She had gotten her wish.