Chudley Canons Winter Classic

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Harry finds her on the sofa in exactly the same position as when Ron left. She's not sure how long she's been there, but the light through the window is less intense than it had been. Perhaps a couple of hours? She really isn't sure. She's also not sure what he's doing here today because they didn't have plans. There's no real curiosity to ask, though. She's entirely drained.

He kneels in front of her and presses his hands to her thighs.

"Hermione?"

She just keeps staring at the same spot on the wall that's held her attention since Ron left. The same things keep playing in her mind; no children at Christmas, no Burrow – because how could she, really? – and the constant nagging feeling that she's the one who brought all of this down on herself. He said as much, hadn't he?

"What has he done to you now?" Harry sits on the sofa now and he pulls Hermione into his chest. His thumbs try to work out the tension in her back, kneading the muscles carefully as he holds her close. "Hermione, can you hear me?"

She can't speak, but she nods. Every time she tries to say words to Harry, her throat constricts and something inside of her screams for her to shut up. It's the worst she's felt in a very long time and she's scared that maybe she's finally cracking.

"Whatever he's said to you, it's not true." Harry continues caressing her softly. His movements are varied, not allowing her to be lulled into one sensation for too long. She wonders how he knows this is what she needs. "I don't know what happened, but Merlin, Hermione, I need you to please talk to me. I'm worried about you."

"Why are you here?" Her voice is small and she's not quite sure the words make it out of her mouth. Not until he answers.

Harry rests his chin on top of her head and she imagines that his eyes are closed. "I knew you didn't have the kids tonight and Draco and I were wondering if you'd want to have dinner."

Draco and I. Dinner. They were already together and maybe they thought she shouldn't be alone. So different to her conversation with Ron. Ron, who wants her alone at Christmas and is taking everything away from her one piece at a time. She wants to ask Harry when he and Draco started having dinners, but she doesn't. She doesn't think she can stomach hearing that somehow Draco Malfoy has become Harry's best friend. It might kill her.

"The kids are with us," he says as if it's an explanation. "We're listening to the quidditch and making dinner. We thought, maybe..."

"Draco wants me there for dinner, too?" Her voice is monotonous, so quiet and lacking any character at all. She can't imagine a world in which Draco Malfoy invites her over for supper where he's not paying her to be there. Why does he care? He's never cared before.

"It was his idea." Harry pulls away and ducks down to look in her eyes. It takes her a moment to focus on him, but she finally sees the green eyes through the glasses and so much scruff on his face that she has to wonder if he even knows how to shave. "With everything happening this year, we're all a bit... out of sorts."

She hiccups through a breathy laugh. One way to put it. Harry Potter, ever the delicate man with words.

"You two are awfully close now, huh?" She licks her lips and can feel how chapped they've become from the crying. "It's weird."

Harry shrugs and curls his fingers gently into her shoulders. "It is what it is. Right time, right place, or whatever. Will you come have dinner with us and the kids? James and Albus haven't spent time with you in ages and Scorpius can't stop talking about Miss Hermione."

He's smiling at her in that Harry way, where her heart skips a beat and she feels something warm start to blossom in her gut. It's strange; the past week has been unlike anything she's ever known with Harry and part of her is curious how everything changed so quickly. It feels like something big is happening, but the more she dwells on it, the scarier the idea becomes.

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