And then there was one...
Title: And then there was one...
Author: drcjsnider
Rating: PG-13
Word Count: 818
Notes/Warning: Written for Seven Deadly Sins Challenge - Prompt: Sloth. Mentions death of a character, but not Draco or Hermione.
“Granger, get up.”
“Go away.”
Draco sighed. He knew before coming over this wasn’t going to be easy, but he had never expected THIS. Hermione’s house was a wreck. It looked like every dish was dirty, there were piles of clothes all around the room, and she was curled up under the covers in bed.
It had been four months since Weasley had been killed in an Auror accident. Hermione had put on a good show of being strong at the funeral and while her children were home, but as soon they returned to Hogwarts, she disappeared from society. She took a leave of absence from her job, stopped attending school board meetings, and refused to answer Floo calls. When she had not even bothered to inform Draco that she would be missing their monthly lunch, where he allowed her to try and convince him to donate a large sum of money to whatever injustice she was currently interested in, he had decided to take action.
“It smells like a sty in here,” he sniffed. He hoped that a few well placed insults might drag her out of her misery or at least make her mad enough that she forgot about her loss briefly. “Of course, perhaps that is the typical smell of hovels. I don’t usually frequent such establishments.”
“How’d you get in here?”
“Scorpius told me how to let down the wards. I have no idea how he came to possess such information, but if I were you I’d make sure your daughter knows how to cast an accurate contraceptive charm. Malfoys can not be blackmailed into marriage by the threat of illegitimacy.”
“Go away. Draco. I’m not in the mood.”
“But you are in the mood to wallow in self-pity?”
That caused her to pull her head out from the covers and glare at him. “It isn’t self-pity to miss one’s spouse of twenty-five years. I’ve spent more than half my life in love with Ron; I don’t know how to exist without him.”
“Bollocks. You know how, you don’t want to exist without him.”
“I don’t have much of an existence without him! He balanced my life. Without him it is all work and obligations and loneliness,” her eyes began to tear up.
“Hermione,” Draco began gently, sitting down on her bed. “Do you remember what you told me when Astoria left?”
“This is not the same thing!”
“Do you remember?”
She nodded. “I told you that change was not easy, but that you had to trust yourself to handle whatever came along and that it was okay to get support or a shoulder to cry on from your friends and family.”
“And when I told you to bugger off and didn’t leave a manor for two weeks?”
“I told you that sloth was an unattractive trait and that someone with a receding hairline really shouldn’t be pushing the unattractive aspects of their personality.”
He raised an eyebrow at her.
“That doesn’t apply to me,” she sniffed. “My hair isn’t receding.”
“Do you really want to get into a ‘whose hair is worse debate with me?’” he asked in what most people interpreted as a condescending tone, but Hermione knew was only his way of teasing her.
“But Draco, it is so hard!” she cried, tears running down her face.
Gathering her into a tight hug, he nodded in understanding. “I know it is. But it would be a lot easier if you would let your friends and your family help. I’m not telling you to forget Ron. Hell, I’m not evening telling you to stop grieving for him. But you can’t shut down your entire life because you miss him.”
“I know. Only there just doesn’t seem to be much to get up for anymore.”
“What if we meet for coffee every morning?” he asked. “We can go to the little shop across from the Ministry of Magic.”
“Coffee every morning with you? I thought you wanted to help?” she looked up with a slight smile on her lips, although her eyes were still watering.
“Let’s just do it for a week. I’ll let you ramble on about whatever your heart desires. We’ll just see if it makes things easier.”
“I’m never going to stop loving him.”
“You don’t have to, but you can’t just give in to despair either.”
She sniffed loudly and muttered something about bossy, Pureblooded gits, but gave in to him in the end. “One week, Malfoy. Then if I want to continue wallowing in my pain you can’t interfere.”
He squeezed her hand. “It’s going to be alright.”
“I wish I could believe you.”
“Yes, well, why would you start listening to me now, after you’ve spent most of your life trying to convince me I’m wrong about the world?”
She giggled softly. “Thank you,” she whispered.
He nodded and continued holding her quietly until she fell asleep.
Author: drcjsnider
Rating: PG-13
Word Count: 818
Notes/Warning: Written for Seven Deadly Sins Challenge - Prompt: Sloth. Mentions death of a character, but not Draco or Hermione.
“Granger, get up.”
“Go away.”
Draco sighed. He knew before coming over this wasn’t going to be easy, but he had never expected THIS. Hermione’s house was a wreck. It looked like every dish was dirty, there were piles of clothes all around the room, and she was curled up under the covers in bed.
It had been four months since Weasley had been killed in an Auror accident. Hermione had put on a good show of being strong at the funeral and while her children were home, but as soon they returned to Hogwarts, she disappeared from society. She took a leave of absence from her job, stopped attending school board meetings, and refused to answer Floo calls. When she had not even bothered to inform Draco that she would be missing their monthly lunch, where he allowed her to try and convince him to donate a large sum of money to whatever injustice she was currently interested in, he had decided to take action.
“It smells like a sty in here,” he sniffed. He hoped that a few well placed insults might drag her out of her misery or at least make her mad enough that she forgot about her loss briefly. “Of course, perhaps that is the typical smell of hovels. I don’t usually frequent such establishments.”
“How’d you get in here?”
“Scorpius told me how to let down the wards. I have no idea how he came to possess such information, but if I were you I’d make sure your daughter knows how to cast an accurate contraceptive charm. Malfoys can not be blackmailed into marriage by the threat of illegitimacy.”
“Go away. Draco. I’m not in the mood.”
“But you are in the mood to wallow in self-pity?”
That caused her to pull her head out from the covers and glare at him. “It isn’t self-pity to miss one’s spouse of twenty-five years. I’ve spent more than half my life in love with Ron; I don’t know how to exist without him.”
“Bollocks. You know how, you don’t want to exist without him.”
“I don’t have much of an existence without him! He balanced my life. Without him it is all work and obligations and loneliness,” her eyes began to tear up.
“Hermione,” Draco began gently, sitting down on her bed. “Do you remember what you told me when Astoria left?”
“This is not the same thing!”
“Do you remember?”
She nodded. “I told you that change was not easy, but that you had to trust yourself to handle whatever came along and that it was okay to get support or a shoulder to cry on from your friends and family.”
“And when I told you to bugger off and didn’t leave a manor for two weeks?”
“I told you that sloth was an unattractive trait and that someone with a receding hairline really shouldn’t be pushing the unattractive aspects of their personality.”
He raised an eyebrow at her.
“That doesn’t apply to me,” she sniffed. “My hair isn’t receding.”
“Do you really want to get into a ‘whose hair is worse debate with me?’” he asked in what most people interpreted as a condescending tone, but Hermione knew was only his way of teasing her.
“But Draco, it is so hard!” she cried, tears running down her face.
Gathering her into a tight hug, he nodded in understanding. “I know it is. But it would be a lot easier if you would let your friends and your family help. I’m not telling you to forget Ron. Hell, I’m not evening telling you to stop grieving for him. But you can’t shut down your entire life because you miss him.”
“I know. Only there just doesn’t seem to be much to get up for anymore.”
“What if we meet for coffee every morning?” he asked. “We can go to the little shop across from the Ministry of Magic.”
“Coffee every morning with you? I thought you wanted to help?” she looked up with a slight smile on her lips, although her eyes were still watering.
“Let’s just do it for a week. I’ll let you ramble on about whatever your heart desires. We’ll just see if it makes things easier.”
“I’m never going to stop loving him.”
“You don’t have to, but you can’t just give in to despair either.”
She sniffed loudly and muttered something about bossy, Pureblooded gits, but gave in to him in the end. “One week, Malfoy. Then if I want to continue wallowing in my pain you can’t interfere.”
He squeezed her hand. “It’s going to be alright.”
“I wish I could believe you.”
“Yes, well, why would you start listening to me now, after you’ve spent most of your life trying to convince me I’m wrong about the world?”
She giggled softly. “Thank you,” she whispered.
He nodded and continued holding her quietly until she fell asleep.