Author's Note: Thank you to everybody who added this story to their favorites and alerts. :] It makes me really happy. Thank you especially to those people who reviewed and I hope that more of you will review in the future! :]

Please enjoy Chapter 2!

Disclaimer: I do not own Harry Potter. Sorry to disappoint!

Ruby Skies and Emerald Oceans

Chapter Two: Infidelity on the Wedding Night

Over the next month, Draco had managed to land himself in St. Mungo's Hospital at least once a week. Each time, Hermione had been his healer—whether it was by pure chance or by his own request, she did not know. Though, Hermione seriously doubted that Draco enjoyed her company half as much as she enjoyed his.

She found him entertaining, mysterious, and actually rather witty once he got talking and not insulting. He always had a new story about the "horrors of Auror training" to tell her. And when he had exhausted that topic, he would just talk about his week in his flat, bored, sarcastic voice.

Maybe it was because her friends were always too busy to talk to her or because her own work place was free of interesting stories (unless you counted Kendra talking about the different ways she dragged her male patients into supply closets), but Hermione often found herself attached to his stories like a dying person to a life support machine.

Each time Draco ended up in a hospital ward, he left it by shoving galleons into Hermione's hands. At first this confused her, seeing as he wasn't supposed to pay her, but the front desk and she had thought that he was merely confused himself. After she mentioned this to him on his next visit, he had shrugged and given her even more extra money than he had the first time.

After the third time this happened, Hermione finally decided to ask him about it.

"Oh, consider it as tip. For keeping me entertained," he had said. "You could also say that it's charity."

"Charity?" Hermione had echoed back to him.

"Yeah. I mean, think of it as the Robin Hood Syndrome—you know… the wizard who gave to the poor and took from the rich."

"I didn't know that Robin Hood was a wizard. There are many muggle stories written about him."

"Right. Like I care Granger. Anyways, consider it as me giving to those of poorer…blood." He had smirked when he had finished speaking, his eyes glinting when he caught sight of the anger in her eyes.

"Ugh. You will never change. You act like you're doing a nice thing, but it's only so you can use it as a new means of making somebody feel below you. You make me sick, you…you…inbred pure-blood!" With that, she had stalked away, 10 galleons chinking together happily in her robe pocket.

Despite her anger at his reasoning, Draco kept on giving her a tip every visit—something that surprised, yet pleased her.


"How come it's always you who ends up in a hospital bed as a byproduct of your crazy 'Auror Adventure Accidents'? You said that there are four other Aurors-in-training...but it's always you. Always! Why is that?" Hermione asked, spraying a potion on a large cut that was oozing green blood and yellow pus.

Wincing from the sting, Draco opened his mouth to speak, but Hermione cut him off before he could utter a sound.

"Oh, wait. Don't tell me. It's because you were such a complete arsehole all your years at Hogwarts. I guess it's just karma then," Hermione said, gleefully waving her wand across the wound.

"Car what?"

"Karma. It's an Indian philosophy that muggles believe in. It basically means that everything will come back to you in the end. Example: You were a prat during school, so now you've had your head inflated, grown an extra arm out of your back, been poisoned, and been attacked by dragons." She pointed her wand free hand at his almost healed cut. "Just to name a few. Like I said—karma."

"Well you shouldn't be complaining about it," said Draco. "My injuries equal extra money for you. In fact, you probably pray to Merlin that I keep on getting into these freak accidents. Please say you don't do that. I would probably kill you if you did…and that would look horrible on my records."

"It's so touching to know that the only thing that would make you feel guilty about killing me is the fact that you would lose your future job."

"Well, it would probably be no fun to go to Azkaban, now that I think about it…"

Hermione allowed herself to smile, tapping her wand on the wound that was now shining with red blood. She was muttering under her breath in Latin, trying to make the blood stop and the wound close up onto itself.

"Watch it Granger," Draco growled, when she had jabbed his cut with her wand. He had swatted her hand away on instinct.

"What was that for? Merlin, talk about immature. It's just a little bit of pain; be a man for once in your life. Now I have to start all over again." Hermione sighed, starting from the beginning of the healing chant.

"So…did you spend your extra money yet?" he asked, watching Hermione, whose face was screwed up in concentration, with interest. She shook her head, observing his wound with bated breath as the blood slowly dried up. "What are you gonna save it for then? A new book?"

Hermione looked up to roll her eyes at the smirking blonde. "As a matter of fact…no. I do have interests besides books and studying you know."

"Maybe. But you can't buy Weasels with money, you know."

"What in Dumbledore's name does that even mean?" asked Hermione, an annoyed expression on her face.

"Who knows?" Draco shrugged, the hint of a smile threatening to cross his lips, but he quickly turned it into a scowl. "So, I'm assuming that you're going to the wedding of Potty and the She-Weasel."

"You assumed correctly. What about yourself? Are you going to Harry and Ginny's wedding? I mean…Harry's your coworker, but this wedding is pretty important as well. Maybe you'll go just to see history in the making?"

The cut on Draco's knee was slowly closing, a new layer of skin growing over it. He was watching this magic at work, but looked up to answer Hermione's question. "Yeah, I'm going—keeping up appearances, showing a good face, that kind of thing. Father says that participating in social gatherings like this will be beneficial for my rep." He smirked, adding, "However, I guess another plus of going is to grab a program or a napkin or something. I could sell it in the future at an antique shop."

"Oh, shut up," said Hermione, glaring at him. "So, you're coming then? You're not going to shout 'I object' when the wedding official says 'Speak now or forever hold your peace'…right?"

"Well, I surely can't make any promises. It's always fun to screw around with Potter." A playful twinkle appeared in Draco's eyes. He hopped off the white hospital bed and pulled from his pocket a black velvet drawstring money pouch.

"Oh, you really don't need to…" Hermione started, though her hand had shot out expectantly. She flushed in embarrassment.

Draco grinned smugly, handing her 12 gold galleons. "Geez, Granger. You're so impatient…" With that, he walked out of the ward, hands stuffed in his pocket and that smug grin still on his face.


"Aren't you nervous?" Hermione asked Ginny, who was sitting on a chair in a simple, yet elegant, long white gown.

"Kind of. Though…to be honest, I thought I would be more nervous. Because so many women talk about how they got cold feet in the last few days and basically had to force themselves down the aisle. Even Fleur said that," Ginny, who was placing her Great Aunt Muriel's tiara on her red hair which had just been styled by Luna Lovegood, replied.

"Well, you have known Harry for a long time," smiled Luna. "I think that maybe this is just the natural next step. Of course you must be careful at weddings, there are a lot of wrackspurts that fly around and as you know they make your brain go all fuzzy—"

"Right, I'll watch out for those Luna," Hermione interrupted, turning back to look at Ginny.

"But she's right about me and Harry. I guess that's why I feel so…calm. I'm sure this is how you'll feel when you and Ron get married!"

"Oh, has he proposed already?" Luna asked, eyes wide.

"Er, no not yet," Hermione muttered.

"Well, it's just a matter of time," said Ginny, smiling and patting Hermione's hand.

"Oh, speaking of time, Gin. I was wondering—do you think that Draco Malfoy has changed since we were at Hogwarts?"

"Hmm, interesting you bring this up. Harry and I talk about it a lot, because they work together. He thinks that Malfoy has changed and while I'm not exactly sure if this is true or not, I'm going to believe Harry. Because, they hated each other so much, you know?"

Hermione nodded her head slowly. "He seems different. He seems like less of a jerk these days."

"Yes, he actually acknowledges my presence when he sees me," said Luna, a far off expression on her face. "And he doesn't call me 'Loony' to my face anymore. It makes me happy."

"Well, that is an improvement," Ginny said, smirking.

Hermione opened her mouth to speak when the door to Ginny's room opened and Mrs. Weasley popped her head into the room. "It's time."


The wedding ceremony had passed by rather smoothly, except for Draco Malfoy getting up and saying "I object" when the Minsitry official had asked for anybody who had problems with the marriage to speak. Everybody's eyes had widened and Hermione had actually heard Harry groan. Of course, Draco had then said that he was "just kidding and to get on with the damn thing because he was hungry."

Even when the Ministry official had continued with his speech, there was one person who kept on glaring at Draco. Ron had spent the rest of the ceremony muttering obscenities and death threats which Hermione knew were directed towards the former Slytherin.

After the ceremony, Ron had disappeared somewhere (Hermione suspected a place where he could sulk and vent out his anger) and she had been left to go find a place to sit and eat. This was the reason why she was currently sitting next to the person who was responsible for Ron's anger.

"What did you think of the ceremony?" Draco asked in his normal condescending drawl.

"Well, it was lovely until you ruined it," Hermione glared.

"Me? What did I do? I personally think that it is your fault since you put the idea in my head. Plus, I told you that I enjoy screwing with Potter," he smirked, cutting his chicken into small pieces.

"For the love of Merlin…" she sighed.

"Speaking of love…where's Weasel? Shouldn't you two be sitting together or snogging in some corner?"

"Ron went…somewhere. He stalked off after the ceremony. I think the sight of you repulsed him so much that he had to go throw up," the brunette girl informed him, sticking her nose in the air as though to say that Draco should drop this topic.

However, he did not drop it, instead he said, "I doubt it; people usually feel worthless and in awe when they are around my great presence." Hermione gave him a 'where did you get that kind of idea' look but Draco continued, "Yes, I think that the Weasel King ran away from the sight of you. Maybe he's finally come to his senses."

"Whatever, Ferret," she muttered, playing with her string beans.

"DRAKKIE," a shrill voice cried out. Hermione looked around to find the source, but Draco slid down in his seat in a very un-Malfoy like way.

The Gryffindor girl raised an eyebrow and looked down at his sinking slender figure. She was about to say something when Draco shushed her, "Shut up Granger. We have to be discreet. Don't give my position away or I'll beat your sorry arse later."

"What are you so worried about anyways?" she whispered back to him.

"Because," he started in a voice that one would use when speaking to somebody whose brain was incredibly slow, "it might be Pansy or that skanky healer or even worse—"

Hermione never got to hear how worse it could be, because at that moment a tall, curvy 20 year old girl was standing right in front of them, the table being the only thing stopping her from coming any closer.

"Drakkie, what are you doing? Are the legs on this table as nice as mine? Is that why you're almost under it?" she asked, twirling her long blonde hair in her fingers. She picked up the tablecloth to look under the table.

A shocked expression crossed Hermione's face, her eyes widening and her mouth hanging open. Did this girl seriously think that Draco was in love with the table legs or something?

"Hello Astoria," he said, a look of annoyance mixed with disgust on his face. He had sat up straight, now that his hiding place was exposed.

Astoria...Hadn't Draco mentioned that name about a month back? Hermione tried to think who exactly she was. Oh! "You're Astoria Greengrass, Draco's…"

"Fiancé!" Astoria finished the sentence for her.

"I thought you were his ex-fiancé. Didn't you two break up two years ago?"

"Yeah, we did," Draco said. "Don't ask me what this lunatic is thinking."

Astoria pouted, putting her hands on her hips, "Oh Drakkie. Don't say such cruel words, baby. And you:" She turned to glare at Hermione, "Don't talk about things you don't understand, you filthy Mudblood."

"Excuse me?" demanded Hermione.

"You heard me. Anyways, I have to go. There are so many good looking men here. I just love weddings. Toodles Drakkie," said Astoria, waving her hand and walking away.

"So…that's who your dad wanted you to marry?" Hermione asked Draco, watching the blonde girl walk over to Blaise Zabini.

Draco nodded, running a hand through his hair. "Every time I'm around her, I feel myself becoming stupider. I swear to Merlin…"


The last wedding guest—a very drunk Hagrid—had finally left the Burrow at 1 in the morning. This left only the Weasley family and Hermione, who was spending the night. At the moment, she was cleaning the garden with all of the family except for Ginny, Harry, and Ron. Hermione had only seen Ron once during the reception; he had been eating food and talking with George. However, when Hermione had finished eating and gone to find him, he had again disappeared.

"Put that table in the stack over there Hermione dear," Mrs. Weasley said, waving her wand around as used silverware and spilt food disappeared.

Hermione nodded, saying "Wingardium Leviosa." The table rose and landed in a stack of the other tables, where Charlie stood, waiting to enchant them all to fit into a small bag.

When all the cleaning had been completed and the garden was back to its normal, wild state, Hermione turned to Mrs. Weasley and said, "Have you seen Ron? I haven't talked to him since the ceremony."

"Ron's in his room," answered George, nodding his head back to the Burrow. "He was in a bad mood today, but what else is new? The prat."

She thanked him and excused herself, running to the doors of the tall and crooked house. As she walked up the rickety staircase, she hoped that Ron was calm enough to be around. He had a hot temper; everybody knew that. In the past, Hermione's presence would usually make Ron even angrier. Ever since the two started going out though, things had been different. She had taught him to deal with his temper and she had learned what to say and what not to say in those situations.

Hermione finally came to a stop in front of the door to Ron's room. She brushed her fingers over the peeling letters that made up his name, smiling. For a split second Hermione wondered if she should knock, but deciding against it, she turned the doorknob.

It was locked.

That's weird, Hermione thought, frowning. She took out her wand and muttered "Alohamora," too tired to do it nonverbally. A click sounded from inside the doorknob and she turned it.

The door opened this time, but the sight that met her eyes made her sincerely wish that it hadn't.

Ron was sitting on the edge of his bed, the maroon comforter wrinkled, and a blonde girl was sitting on his lap. One of her arms was wrapped around his neck and the other was in his hair. He had his arms around the girl's waist and their lips were locked.

They were kissing. Well, actually, it looked more like a full blown snogging session. Hermione felt the chicken that she had eaten for dinner make its way back up her throat. She gulped loudly, trying to push it back down into her stomach. At first she was too shocked to do anything but clench her fists, her wand letting out dangerous red and green sparks.

"Sorry to interrupt," Hermione finally said, anger flashing through her eyes. The kissing couple looked up, just then noticing that she was in the room as well. It was when they looked at her that Hermione realized that the blonde girl was Astoria Greengrass.

Astoria giggled, sliding off of Ron's lap and onto his bed with a soft thud. Ron stood up, face and ears red from embarrassment. He ran a hand through his mussed up hair, trying to flatten it out. He then turned to face Hermione, whose fists were shaking where they sat on her hips and her face twitching with anger.

"Ronald Bilius Weasley," Hermione said in a dangerous whisper, her voice quavering. "You better have a damn good excuse or I'm going to curse you from here to Jupiter." The sparks were still shooting out of her wand.

"Well, I…I…" Ron croaked, his ears the same color as his maroon comforter.

"Were you Imperiused?" Hermione asked, taking a step closer to him.

"No…" Ron murmured.

"Are you not actually Ron, but some bloke who drank Polyjuice Potion?" Hermione drew out her wand, tears welling up in her eyes.

"No…I'm Ron," he answered, biting his lip.

"Well then, you're out of excuses aren't you?" Hermione snarled, shooting a stream of spiders out of her wand. They landed on the floor and encircled Ron's feet.

His face paled, though his ears remained the same dark shade of red. He took his own wand out and the spiders vanished.

"Is this the first time you two have met? Was it love at first sight?" Hermione was working hard to keep her voice steady and the tears from falling.

"Err…" Ron started.

"Actually! We've met before," piped in Astoria Greengrass, who acted as though she was totally clueless to the situation.

"You have, have you?" Hermione picked up a large textbook.

"Oh, but don't worry Mudblood, nothing has happened before today," Astoria continued, smiling.

Hermione glared at her. She threw the textbook hard at Ron's nose, oddly satisfied when she heard it break.

"What the hell was that for 'ermione?" Ron said thickly, wiping the falling blood with the back of his hand.

"What the hell was that for?" Hermione repeated incredulously. "That was for being the worst boyfriend a girl could ask for." She let out a sob as one tear fell down her cheeks. She started to leave but then stopped when he spoke.

"So, I guess we're over?" he said.

"Yeah, I guess we are," she responded, walking out the door, letting it slam closed behind her.


Author's Note Again: Oh no, Ron! Well, I hope that you enjoyed this second chapter. The catalyst for the plot is in this chapter. x] Please review because it makes me happy. ^_^