Even though they were engaged, it wasn't as if, they were, you know, really engaged. Their engagement just came naturally after the War. It seemed natural; everyone was expecting it, and she did love Ron. He publicly proposed, she accepted. Then, after the heat of the battle had died down, Ron and she both settled down into their lives.

Separately.

Ron liked Quidditch. She liked reading. Ron liked partying and drinking. She liked staying at home and watching the telly with a tub of ice cream. Ron liked attention. She despised it.

Simply put, they were different. Oh, of course, they had their trio time. Harry was often caught in between, sometimes photographed for the social section of The Daily Prophet, seen with drink in one hand and a witch in another, always with Ron. But sometimes, he was over at her flat, eating her popcorn, drinking her tea, sometimes silently working on their individual paperwork together, (She for her work at Gringotts, He for his work at the Ministry of Magical Law Enforcement), or watching the newest muggle movie.

Ron would sometimes join them, and it was never awkward when he did join them, and yet, she had grown closer to Harry. They did spend time together, the three of them. And sometimes, she would just meet Ron for lunch. They were still very good friends. Regardless, everyone knew that Ron and Hermione were engaged, and though only Molly Weasley kept asking for a specific wedding date, everyone else, too, expected a wedding sometime in the future.


After kicking both Harry and Draco out of her flat, she first washed her sheets. The muggle way. Some things, she felt were better when she saw the water and the suds and the soap. Then she sat on her bed and groaned.


Harry knew Hermione wasn't a virgin. At least, he knew that she and Ron had slept together a few times during the war, a few desperate rumples here and there when they could sneak the extra time. Harry wasn't jealous then, or at least he thought he wasn't. Sex life during the war was rampant; everyone needed a way to relieve his or her stress, and sometimes, they needed to imitate the intimacies to feel alive after finding out that yet another teammate had died. Sometimes, they just needed someone to hold them while they cried.

Harry and Hermione slept together once. After Harry had cast his first accurate Killing curse, after he had watched the unknown Death Eater's body crumple to the ground as if everyone were in slow motion, he came home and cried in the library. He didn't want to seem weak or bother Ron who was sleeping in their room. Hermione came in and held him as he cried. He held on to her tight, and she kissed his tears away softly. It wasn't the last time he was comforted in that manner, but somehow, it was different, not only because it was after his first war killing, but also because it was Hermione. He made love to her gently against the shelf of books, still softly hiccupping from his tears. After that, he couldn't not see her sexually. Most of the time, he was preoccupied trying to stay alive, but in those few quiet moments that the war allowed, he wondered if she regretted it. Because when he woke up in the next morning, she was already gone, and neither brought it up ever again.


Hermione knew that in the magical world, the concepts of heterosexuality, homosexuality, and bisexuality were different. At least, the perceptions were different. Wizards and witches took pleasure where they could, but in the end, they settled down with the opposite sex to have a traditional family. Having children were extremely important; otherwise, the magical population would dwindle down to nothing. However, before the settling down happened, it wasn't unheard of to have multiple lovers simultaneously as long as one kept it discreet.

Another "taboo" of sorts, was having a muggleborn lover as a pureblood. So she didn't understand why she was woken up by Draco Malfoy knocking at her front door.

She opened the door but did not let him in.

"I told you and Harry that I don't want to see either of you until I'm ready."

"Oh, Granger. Don't tell me you're taking this all too seriously? I found out the nature of your engagement with Weasley. Surely you know that he has had other lovers as well? Honestly, I was surprised considering your muggle background, but I mean, Weasley is, in the end, pureblooded and male, to boot. I'm sure he won't feel betrayed. It's just how it is done in our world, you understand," he said. Then he smiled at her, "Aren't you going to invite me in?"

Hermione rolled her eyes and said, "What part of 'I don't want to see you' do you not understand? And as if you would understand betrayal."

"Don't be silly, Granger. Who doesn't want my company?" he said, choosing to ignore her snarky comment. H took a step towards her, making her involuntarily take a step back. Then he put his hand on her face and caressed her slightly, "Have you eaten anything? You seem a bit pale, this morning. I noticed you don't have anything to eat in your fridge, and I came to take you out to eat.

She snapped his hands away and said, "I know that we are friends Malfoy, to some degree, after working together, but I would appreciate if you wouldn't act as if we were—" close? Familiar? Chummy?

"As if we were what? Lovers, you mean?"

Her eyes snapped up to meet his.