DRAGON'S HEARTSTRINGS || dramione | harry potter

Chapter Thirty-Six

She was walking home from Azkaban after one of the meetings with Draco when a person she least expected to meet stood in her way, blocking her path, towering over her. It was George Weasley. Hermione clutched the Elder wand in her hand more tightly, ready for anything. During the last eight months she had seen, heard, witnessed and been on the receiving end of so much crap that nothing could shock her anymore, and she was ready to push back against anything.

"George," she nodded her acknowledgement, trying to remember the last time she saw the surviving one of the Weasley twins. It must've been at court during Draco's final trials.

"Coming from seeing your husband?" he asked, spitting out the word husband like poison.

They were standing in the dimly lit street, so she couldn't make out his features quite right, but his face had turned gauntly ashen and bony, his eyes were brimmed red, and his lips now formed an eternal scowl. She remembered that whenever she did see him, he was always looking at her as if he hated her, but only now did he actually seem to despise her. Hermione paid it no mind – she was used to receiving hateful messages, death threats, being called a traitor and a Death Eater's whore. Dealing with an angry Weasley was something she could definitely manage.

"Actually, yes, I am," she answered calmly, indifferent to the rage emanating from his posture.

"He took all I care about from me," George snarled, his nostrils flaring.

Hermione only stared at him calmly. "It was Voldemort who did it, not Draco. It wasn't Draco's fault Voldemort made him do these things. And he's in Azkaban, just like you all wished. He's being punished for his crimes."

"Do you really think he was forced to become High Reeve, the highest rank of all Death Eaters?" George asked, narrowing his eyes. "We both know he did it himself, because he liked it. Stop defending him! Five years in azkaban is a ridiculous amount of time for all the things he did!"

Hermione was just as still and stern as ever. "No one's questioning how many people you've killed, George. Who knows, maybe your victims were under the Imperius curse. That we will never know."

George's face twisted in anger. "I lost two of my brothers and my only sister in this war..."

She understood why he was angry – she would be angry too if she was him. She simply couldn't bring herself to care.

"You still have your family left, George," she reminded him. "I'm the one who lost everything. All I have is Draco, and I will protect him until the day I die."

George's gaze darkened as if he only now begun to understand the true gravity of this whole post-war situation. "You know, I really believed he had brainwashed you to make you love him. But now I realize it's all you, Hermione. You fully understand who he is and you still... fancy him."

Hermione's expression was stone-like. "For some reason, the only person who was there to defend me when Snape tortured me wasn't you. It wasn't Lee, or Justin, or Parvati, or Neville. None of you did anything when the older Order members were ready to kill me—"

"You killed Harry!"

"—it was my husband who saved me. So no, I will not let anyone hurt him ever again, and I will not stop defending him. Now if you'lL excuse me, I have to make it back home before the dinner."

Hermione was overcome with a realization George was going to attack her if she did nothing to fight back, so she took out the Elder wand that she was hiding between her robes, and pointed it at him.

"Don't try anything stupid, George. Not here and not with me. You won't win this."

He watched her for a long moment as if he could transmit his anger for her to feel just by looking. But then his gaze slid to her wand, and he recognized it. George moved away from her slowly, giving her the space to move. She went on, giving him one last indifferent look.