The Interlude Series

The Interlude Series (3/4):

After An Interlude

I just don't know what to do anymore. I can't stand it. I'm going crazy. Trying not to love you. Trying not to find excuses to just be near you. Trying not to touch you when I am near you. That is all I want to do. Be near you. It's all I think of. It is all that I want to think of. And I'm not going to be able to deal much longer. Three days. I would rather face that initial explosion instead of the slow burn that comes from not being with you. Just get it over with. Then maybe we can deal together. And be together. I'd face a firing squad if there was any chance that I could be with you. Do you even want me with you? Yes, you must. You have to. I know you do. I know you. I know I told you I didn't want you. I do. I always do. And I want you. I want you back. But back as never before. I don't want you in the dark, hidden, secret, rushed, never in the day. I want you in the sunlight. Not there after eyes close and lights go out and gone as the sun comes up. I want to be able to wake with you, in your arms. To wake up leisurely, half in and half out of sleep. Dozing. Never wanting to move. Feel your lips against my neck, hand on my thigh. Your lips against mine. Dragging, pulling myself away. You dragging me back in. Laughing like a child, acting like a girl. Feeling like the most gorgeous woman in the world. And wanting you like never before. And ever, always before. Gods, wanting you. It seems that it's all I do. This is what it all comes down too. Wanting. Harry, can you possibly want me this way? With this constant ache that never seems satisfied. I want to be consumed by you. By the fire and magma of you. Do you see what you reduce me to? It's awful. But that is why we must deal with this, with him. I will never forget that night. You coming to me, ready to tell him and probably end the greatest friendship of your life. It doesn't matter, you said, not if it's you. But, Harry, that scared me. Me? Worth that? What if I don't measure up? What if the two of us can't deal without him? What if you look back and realise you would have rather have had that than me? Because I know that I would never be left wanting with you. And if I didn't do the same for you, I wouldn't be able to live with myself. And I couldn't let you do that. I couldn't let you give up your best friend, your first friend, for me. So I told you that it was enough to know that. But to forget it. But you've been damn persistent. And we should have a higher opinion of him, really. He's our best friend. And really, it's quite conceited of me to think he's harbouring any sort of romantic intentions. He wants the two of us happy... even if it doesn't fit with his vision of happiness. I think it was just that two weeks that made me crazy. Every emotion and touch and look seemed heightened. I was ready to make love to you in the middle of class, everyone watching. Everything seemed so much more after that first night. Gods, we must thank Malfoy, mustn't we? The prat actually did some good for once in his life. But I just remember looking at you, into your eyes, they were burning, ready to give it all up, and I just froze. I remembered everything from those weeks - what if it was just the hormones talking? What if it was just an aberration? What if after we left for holidays it would end and we would end up without us and without Ron? What then? So I made the split-second decision to call it all off. To not tell him and use the summer to get over whatever it was. Well, it's just as strong as ever. And I've gotten a bit of perspective as well. I'm in love with you. And that's never going away. And if your letters (all of which I've had to hide incidentally, thank you very much. Who knew the boy who lived could write a love letter, especially some of those letters?) are any indication, you feel the same. So, what I'm trying to say, in my usual long-winded way, is let's give it a go. Come clean to Ron and Ginny and Dean and Seamus and Parvati and Justin and McGonagall and Sirius and Lupin and Malfoy and everyone else. Anyone else. I really don't care who knows it now; I wish everyone knew it now. Because I do. Finally.

This is real, this is right, and damn the rest of it.

Hermione

Silence.

Silence.

Oh, fuck. "POTTER!"

Silence.

"I fucking know you're up here. I know it! This is your bloody letter! Come out, come out, wherever you are!"

Silence.

"Lovely. Listen, Potter, since you're apparently embarrassed by this... well, rather amusing and melodramatic declaration of love... well. I'd just like to say quickly that I told you so. Didn't I? And I love this little bit in here about owing me a thank you. Fitting, don't you think? I told you that she owed me. It's perfect. And who would have thought you and Granger would actually get it on so quickly? I expected you two would make the rest of us nauseous for at least a year before your hormones finally got the better of you and you two finally gave it a go. But it seems to have made Granger a bit more tolerable, don't you think? I mean, really. Who ever would have thought Granger would use the word thigh or describe any sort of bedroom activity besides sleep? And, honestly, Potter, I think some congratulations are in order - you must be good if you've got her ready to go in the middle of -"

"SHUT IT!"

"Holy fuck!"

Tense, disturbed silence.

"Weasley? Holy... I almost fell off the Tower, you prick. What the hell are you doing up here?"

Silence.

Narrowed eyes. "What are you doing with Potter's letter? And is... is that an Invisibility Cloak?"

Silence.

Silence.

"Beautiful. Now, I don't like Potter much, but I think he at least deserves to see this, don't you? It is his, after all. And I would think Granger would be getting kind of anxious seeing... unless... you sneaky bastard. Nice plan, Weasley, one small problem though. Do you really think Potter and Granger are really going to let the fact that one of their letters, albeit a nice, key one, got lost stop them from doing whatever it is that they're doing? Or, should I say, who they're -"

"MALFOY. Fucking shut it. Now. I cannot deal with you right now. Get off of this Tower if you value your life and limbs AT ALL."

Silence, part amused and part furious.

"I'm not fucking kidding. LEAVE. Now."

Almost mocking. "I thought maybe the third time would be a charm. Guess not. For the FINAL time - what the hell are you going to do about it? Turn me in? Then you'd be admitting your own guilt. Jinx me? Then you'll get in even more trouble and why? Because your two best friends are making the beast with two backs? Get over it. That's not the worst thing that could happen. Trust me."

"Right. Trust you. Malfoy, I wouldn't trust you ever, at all, about anything."

A smirk. "Is that so?"

Wand raised, almost hissing. "Yes, that's so."

Staring, a raised eyebrow.

Silence.

Staring.

"Weasley?"

Silence.

Rolling eyes.

"As nice as it is having a staring contest with you, please don't be such a tit. You know that you always do that, right? Lots of yelling, lots of mutinous staring, then... nothing. No curses, no jinxes, no punches. The only time you've ever followed through was first year. First year. Six bloody years ago. At least Potter backs up all the talk. Actually, come to think of it, Potter's almost all action. There seems to be no thinking with him. Just charge in, wand blazing, consequences be damned. That's got to be good for Granger, don't you think? And Granger? Lots of thought, but she's also one for action. That slap she gave me in third year... excellent. Always did respect people who back their bullshit. That's why I always had such a problem with you, Weasley. All talk. Oh, you make quite a show, but you knew Potter and Granger would pull you back, so you never had to actually worry about it, did you? What are you going to do now Weasley? No one's here to stop you. No one's here to catch you. And I don't have my wand. Defenseless. Does Weasley have a spine or a doormat?"

A clattering sound, a body slumping toward the floor.

A whisper. "Fuck."

Silence.

Exasperated. "Oh, gods. Are you alright?"

A muffled, "Fuck off, Malfoy."

Hmmm. My little monologue seems to have had the opposite effect than was intended. Instead of getting him off the Tower, he's now a mound on the floor, looking as if he never intends to move. Usually purposely baiting someone is a way to get them to leave, or to attack. Either of which would have served my aim - trying to erase the knowledge I have just been granted. It's actually happened. As I knew it would. Apparently, Weasley didn't.

Silence.

Rustling noises, "Here."

A wary, untrusting glance. "What the hell is that?"

"A handkerchief, Weasley. Surely you know what they are. Tissues that you don't throw away?"

"Fuck off, Malfoy. I know what it is, you jackass. Why are you offering it to me? What does it have on it? Is it going to burst into flame the moment I touch it? What?"

"Untrusting git, aren't we? I thought you could use a tissue, so I offered. Sorry."

Silence.

Sniffle.

"Do you want it or not?"

Silence, hand grabbing.

Muttered, "Only you would carry a bloody monogrammed handkerchief."

"Shut your trap. Ungrateful sod."

Silence.

Sigh.

Sigh.

Silence.

Sigh.

Okay, enough. "What is with you people? SIGH. No, I don't want to talk about it Malfoy, but... Jackasses, all of you. I have nothing to say to you, I'll just sigh and make noises until it drives you bloody well round the bend. So, just to cut through the bullshit... What's wrong, Weasley?"

"What's wrong? What's wrong? That's pretty rich. What's wrong. First, and mostly, my two best friends have betrayed me. Secondly, apparently from this letter, they also believe I'm a total ass. Thirdly, for apparently the better part of the end of last year, they lied to me and pandered to me. Like I'm a child. Fourthly, that I'm even thinking of discussing it with you."

"Weasley. Please stop saying apparently. There is almost no doubt of any of these things. They do think you'd act like a total ass, which you are, so I can't say I bloody well blame them. And you are acting like a child, so maybe they were right to pander to you. And you aren't thinking of discussing it, you are."

"Fuck off, Malfoy. What would you know about it anyway?"

"A hell of a lot more than you could even begin to imagine."

"Right. I'm sure. Malfoy, you have no friends. And don't even start to say Crabbe and Goyle. They each have two brain cells and they're fighting each other-"

Raucous laughter.

"What is that?"

Still chuckling, "What's what?"

"You laugh?"

"Yes I bloody well laugh. That was amusing and I'm showing my appreciation. Continue."

Eyebrows raised. "So... umm... oh, you have no friends, so you can't begin to imagine what it's like to realise they have betrayed you and lied to you and gone behind your back and snuck around and not trusted you enough to tell when they started shagging each other! Wankers. Don't you think this is pretty important? Now, I feel like even more of an ass. I think of the things I did this summer and it's like I want to crawl into a very large hole and not come out for several years. Plus, Harry knew. He damn well knew. Bastard. And he never even gave me a clue! Not even a scrap, a hint, and inkling that he felt this... whatever, for her."

"Weasley. Stop for a moment. It's not whatever, they're in love with each other. Which goes way beyond shagging or anything else. So get used to it. They're going to be like this for a while. Some of the rest of us aren't going to be too happy with this new turn of events. I mean, people have walked these halls since first year with fantasies about... well, and what are they going to do? Not a bloody thing. Since there is nothing they can do. Nothing. Not that they bloody well haven't tried. Just for a scrap, some sort of recognition. And if they couldn't get any friendship or love, just anything would suffice. So shut it. The world? It doesn't fucking revolve around you."

Silence.

Silence.

"You know Malfoy, you're amazing. Incredible really. For someone accusing me of being self-centred, you're certainly acting concerned about how all of this is going to affect you, which is exactly none. I know the world doesn't revolve around me, but I think I'm entitled to act like a brat at the moment. I've just had a bombshell dropped on me. My best friend, the person I have stuck with through everything has completely and utterly betrayed me. And whom did he do it with? My other best friend. The only girl I've ever even looked at twice. Someone whom I could conceivably love? And he knew. I think that's the thing that I can't get over, you know? I reckon they thought they could just what? Not tell me? Break it to me gently? I mean, how did they think I was going to take it? And, yes, I realise that saying all of this does make me just as bad as they thought I was going to be, but I really don't care at the moment. I can't fucking believe this. I can't. And I keep thinking of them, you know, together. And I want to scream and cry and yell and curse something and vomit. And I know that they didn't mean to. I know they didn't. I know they didn't plan this; I certainly know that you can't help whom you love. My head knows it, but the rest of me just wants to...and I can just imagine that tragic scene, with the two of them deciding what to do about me. How fucking considerate. He'd be staring at her, desperate. And I know she was crying, telling him that even though they loved each other, they couldn't be together because of me. How sickening. And pretentious. Then I think of this summer, all the time that Harry and I spent together... Gods. He must think I'm a total jackass. I can't believe he didn't even hint to me that he felt that way. Granted, he did think it was over and that explains why he was in that fucking depressive funk all summer. I thought it was just all the You-Know-Who stuff finally getting to him. I knew he was acting weird. Well, I hope it is bloody well worth it. And I was stunned when Herm didn't come to the Burrow this summer, she always does. I guess that answers that question now, doesn't it? What self-righteous wankers!"

Silence.

A sideways glance. "Are you quite done?"

"Yes."

Silence.

Grudgingly, "Thanks, Malfoy."

A sigh. "You're welcome."

Silence.

Silence.

"Umm, Malfoy?"

"What now, Weasley?"

Silence.

"What the fuck do you have to do with any of this? I mean, Hermione mentions you in her little missive and I can't for the life of me figure out why the hell she's talking about you. And especially since she says they need to thank you? Wait a... what the hell did you do? Is this some sort of spell or something? What have you done? How the hell did you manage to make-"

"Weasley. I did nothing. Nothing. I promise. I told you I knew more about this than you could even begin to imagine. I meant it. And trust me, this is not the way I would get at the three of you. I would not make the two of them fall in love with each other. Believe me."

A smirk. "I thought I already told you Malfoy. I would never trust you about anything."

Silence.

Silence.

"Weasley?"

"Hmm?"

"Since you got the chance to ask your question... how did you get a hold of this letter? It was obviously meant for no one other than Harry."

Eyes narrowed suspiciously. "Harry?"

Rolls eyes. "Potter. Whatever. Why do you have it?

Still suspicious. "Hedwig brought it to the Burrow the other day."

Silence.

"And?"

"And what?"

Incredulously. "That's all the explanation I'm going to get?"

"What other explanation do you need? Besides, the only thing you told me was that you knew more about it than I 'could imagine.' How? Why? When have you ever even talked to either of them?"

"Fine. Right at the start of this little episode last year. You Gryffindors apparently all have the same thought about heartache – if life is a bit crap, go to the Astronomy Tower. And inevitably, because apparently the gods hate me, I run in to you."

Silence.

"And all three of you got off this Tower intact? Must have been one hell of a night."

"If you must know, I ran into them separately. Granger after she first figured it out, I think. And Potter after some incident with that Ravenclaw Seeker."

"And what exactly happened?"

"Actually, almost the exact thing that's happening right now. They talked. And talked."

"And you... what?"

"Weasley. What the hell is this? The Spanish Inquisition? If you're desperate enough to be on the Astronomy Tower in the middle of the night, chances are you'll talk to any other git sad enough to be there. Hence... this conversation."

"Well, did they say anything about any of this? I'm only asking because I'm trying to figure out how big a mug I am. How long was this going on?"

"Weasley, do you think I'm in this relationship with them? I don't know everything."

A pointed stare.

"Fine. Gods. I guess I do know more than you... umm. Ran into Granger around the beginning of April-"

"APRIL!"

"Quiet down, Weasley. Yes, April. But I think she'd just figured out what all of us had known for years."

"Which was?"

Rolling eyes. "You really are a daft git, aren't you? That she's in love with him. And to continue, I ran into Potter about three weeks later, the end of April."

"And... ?"

Sighs. "And he had apparently just been rejected by Chang. He was all broken up about it, too. But that didn't last for long, I guess. That's it... until tonight unfortunately."

Silence.

"Wait a... if Harry was upset about Cho, then why did this whole Hermione thing happen?"

"Well, apparently he's even blinder than you are. He kept insisting that they were 'JUST FRIENDS.' Right."

"So you... what? Convinced him he loved her? I knew it! You did do something."

"Relax, please. Getting upset with me is NOT going to change anything. I simply pointed out the obvious."

"The obvious? Well, it wasn't very obvious to anyone but you, was it? Why did you have to meddle? Why do you insist on torturing us? Why can't you just leave us alone!"

"So... what? So maybe Granger would have given you a chance until she realised she loved him? Weasley, you need to open your fucking eyes. Next time you see them together, pretend you aren't hot for her and wanting to strangle him... just watch them. They love each other. LOVE. In truth, in reality. Like the kind of love people write sonnets and violin concertos about. And, that's there whether you, or anyone else, like it or not. And, as you have seen yourself from this letter, they are no longer worried about what you think. Do you know that that was the one thing Potter kept saying? "I don't love her, but if I did, Ron would never forgive me." That was the one thing they were most worried about. Now, I don't know how they got over it, but they did. Maybe they realised that it was more important than whatever their daft supposed best friend thought. I don't know but evidently they don't care anymore. So you can either accept it and get your friends back, if they still want you after this little hide-the-letter stunt, or go sulk. Either way, they're not going back."

Silence.

Silence.

"I answered your question. Now it's your turn, if you'd forgotten. How did you get that letter?"

"I told you, Hedwig brought it."

"Are you in the habit of opening Potter's mail?"

"Yes, actually. If we're together and it's from Herm. Her letters are usually to both of us anyway. 'Til now, of course. And I opened it and almost got sick."

"That's all well and good, but why do you still have it?"

Silence.

Coughing.

Silence.

"You're pathetic, Weasley. You actually thought that sad plan would work? Not to mention the fact that when Granger mentions it to him, they're going to know what happened, right? And then... what? Do you think they're going to be really pleased with you?"

"I really wasn't thinking, now was I? I didn't know what else to do! And now I'm fucking stuck."

"You really are sad, you know. And I thought I had seen the worst with the two of them, "oh, I love him, but I can't, what can I do?" Boo fucking hoo. And then him "What are you on about? I like Cho, I'm not in love with Granger. Except that I am and everyone bloody well knows it." Wankers, all of you. This is not the end of the world. You know, I told Potter that the world would not crumble if he admitted he loved her. That's true. Except that the three of you are acting like it is. It's not."

Silence.

Silence.

A smirk, chuckle. "Are you quite done?"

"Fuck off, Weasley."

Silence.

"The world would not crumble if he admitted he loved her. Nice."

"Counselor Malfoy at your service."

Silence.

Silence.

"You know what I can't figure out Malfoy? Why the hell do you care so much? I thought you'd be jumping through hoops, seeing the three of us like this."

Staring at the stars. "There's a hell of a lot you don't know Weasley."

Silence.

Chuckle. "It certainly appears that way. First, my best friends are in love and shagging and now our sworn enemy isn't even rubbing it in."

Silence.

"And he apparently was instrumental in bringing it about."

Silence.

"You alright Malfoy? You look almost... sad."

"Hmmm."

Silence.

Silence.

"Aren't you going in?"

A glance. "Why?"

"Well, this is when the conversation traditionally ends. We trade insults, you break down, I dispense a bit of wisdom, we come to a bit of a truce, then they leave."

Silence.

Silence.

"Yeah, well, I'm not tired yet."

Silence.

A sigh.