Author's note: I was a little depressed after my Braves lost…again….so on the bright side, I threw myself into the next chapter. I hope you guys like it. Please read and review!
Chapter Five
By My Side
"They blazed a trail I dared to run
They built this world and I have come
I need another, like a brother
For a cryin' shoulder
This could be the last time, you will
Stand by my side"
(Three Doors Down "By My Side")
"Could I have a word?" Ron asked them.
The difference in his demeanor was jarring to say the least. The past few weeks, he'd been quite surly and confrontational. Now, as he stood before them, he looked somewhat lost and nervous. Hermione felt as if her heart could go out to him if she wasn't so mad at him.
"I really don't think Harry needs this right now, Ron," Hermione said firmly.
"Don't you think you've said quite enough?" Harry asked him coolly. "I mean, I have to spend time here with my 'groupie' and then I should probably just reflect on the deaths I was responsible for."
"She told you, then," Ron asked him, not really needing to know an answer.
"Of course she told me," Harry said.
Ron looked sheepishly down at the floor. He nervously shifted his feet. It was deafeningly silent for a few moments.
Ron finally cleared his throat. "I know I said some terrible things. I can't believe I said them anymore than you can. If the two of you never want to speak to me again, I'd more than understand."
Hermione nodded.
"But, I do hope that you'll at least listen to what I have to say before you decide," he continued.
Harry and Hermione exchanged worried glances.
"Okay," Harry said solemnly. "What is it you want to say?"
Ron looked up to meet his gaze, surprised that Harry hadn't told him to get out.
"Okay," he said, taking a deep breath before continuing. "I guess I should start by apologizing. I know it doesn't begin to make up for what I've done or said, but nevertheless, I am sorry."
He looked intently at the two of them as he spoke, trying to gauge from their faces whether or not they believed a word he was saying. Their expressions were unreadable, however.
"I was hurt by what happened," he said. "I felt like Harry went behind my back."
"Ron," Harry interjected, but Ron held up his hand.
"Well, you did, Harry," Ron said firmly. "I mean, I understand why you did it, but you could have told me. I don't think we should get into would have or should have, here. I think what hurt me most was that I thought here was another thing that you were taking from me."
Harry looked as if he wanted to say something, but he stopped himself.
"When Hermione came back, and I saw the two of you together, I realized something. This hurt more than I can tell you, but what I realized was that how could I have ever lost something that was never ever mine to begin with? I could tell just by looking at the two of you how much you meant to each other. I mean, it's always been that way. The two of you have always been on the same plane about everything. You can finish each other's sentences. I guess it was just pride or something that made me think that you only went after Hermione because I liked her. I know how much you care about her."
He looked down at the floor and then looked up to see his two friends staring back at him, hanging on his every word.
"I know it's not an excuse, but it's always been hard for me to watch the things that come so hard to
me, fall right into your lap, Harry. I know it's not your fault. I mean, you can't help who you are anymore
than I can."
"I've had a lot of time to think about this and Ginny's tried to help me see things from your point of
view. Deep down, what I wanted was to somehow hurt you as much as I felt you hurt me. I thought it would make me feel
better, but the truth is it made me feel like such a wanker," Ron said. "And Hermione, I don't think of
you as just some groupie. I know that you're not like that. The best thing that ever happened to me was you
slapping me. I think it might have knocked some sense in to me, finally." He gave a half-hearted laugh at
that.
"It's not been easy for me to watch the two of you together," he said. "I won't lie to you, but
I'm going to try and get past it. Our friendship means more to me than my petty anger."
He looked again at the two of them, who just stared back at him with stony expressions.
"What?" Ron asked. "Say something. Tell me to go shove it up my arse or something."
Hermione stared at him.
"Well, I for one am amazed," she said, a smile playing at her lips.
"About what?" Ron asked, nonplussed.
"You're finally growing up," she said.
"Don't spread it around," Ron said, his eyes twinkling. "I do have a reputation to protect."
"Your secret's safe with me," Hermione said. "Besides, I don't think too many people would believe it anyway."
"Ha-ha," Ron said. He turned his gaze to Harry. "Harry?"
"It'll be nice that she'll have someone else to nag to do their homework," Harry said. "I've been shouldering it by myself for the past few weeks. It hasn't been fun."
"Hey!" Hermione said. "I haven't been that bad. Besides, if it hadn't been for me, I know of two people in this room, who would probably be on academic probation, not to mention facing expulsion."
"Point taken," Ron said. "And you know, I have to say, that I much prefer you with Harry here, than Viktor Krum.
Harry laughed. "Yeah, Hermy-own-ninny."
Hermione turned to her boyfriend and glared at him.
"Yeah, how is old Vicky these days," Ron asked.
"Don't call him that," Hermione said airily. "You know as long as we're taking this trip down memory lane, I do remember someone being absolutely over-the-moon when he heard that he was coming here for the tournament. I remember a certain someone being star-struck and nervous about asking for an autograph. Who was that? Oh, that's right, it was you Ronald Weasley!"
Ron rolled his eyes, but clearly was enjoying the friendly, sarcastic banter that he and Hermione had perfected over the past few years. He finally sat down on the edge of Harry's bed as they continued with their conversation.
"What ever did you see in him, anyway?" Ron asked her.
"I don't really know," Hermione said. "To tell you the truth, he was about as dull as dishwater. He had the emotional depth of a wading pool."
She looked thoughtful for a moment. "Of course, it didn't hurt that he was quite good-looking."
"Hey!" Harry exclaimed, affronted. "I am sitting right here. Remember me? Your boyfriend? Geez, Hermione, you sure know how to kick a man when he's down."
Hermione dissolved in a fit of giggles. "I was just kidding! You know that I'm a one-wizard witch, don't ya?"
"You'd better be," Harry said, teasingly.
"So, I guess we're okay, then?" Ron asked, hopefully.
Hermione's smile faded a little bit. "Not yet," she said. "But, I think we will be."
Madame Pomfrey wanted to keep Harry at least overnight for observation. He wanted to sleep in his own bed tonight, and despite feeling sore, he didn't feel as if his injuries warranted an overnight stay in the hospital wing. Madame Pomfrey had stood her ground, however, and had stubbornly refused to release him. Reluctantly, he'd given up hope of changing her mind. She could be quite formidable when she wanted to.
Ron and Hermione had stayed behind until Madame Pomfrey had forced them out. He and Ron had shook hands and Hermione had given him a hug and a quick kiss before she left.
Things seemed to be getting back to a somewhat sense of normalcy. He wasn't kidding himself into thinking that he, Ron and Hermione would just fall right back to how they'd used to be. Too much had happened to just sweep everything under the rug. There were still some tense issues around them, but at least they'd decided to put their friendship above that and try to move on. Hopefully, with time, he'd be okay with Harry and Hermione's relationship. He seemed to be willing to make an effort, which meant a lot.
Madame Pomfrey had given him a sleeping potion and he'd fallen asleep fairly quickly. He was dreaming…
He was on the beach. It must have been summertime because he was dressed in a pair of khaki shorts and a hunter green t-shirt. He wasn't wearing shoes and he was walking along the shore. The beach was deserted and quiet. The only sound came from the sound of the waves crashing into the shore. He looked around, trying to gauge where he was or why he was here.
He heard the sound-the sweet sound---of Hermione's laughter. He looked wildly around for her.
"Hermione!" he shouted. "Where are you?"
"I'm over here, silly," she said.
He turned to see her, standing a few feet away under the pier. She was leaning against one of the posts. She looked beautiful. She wore a long, white sundress. Her hair was flowing in the wind. She, too, was barefoot.
He quickly walked over to her and caught his breath as he looked at her. She pulled him in closer to her and softly kissed him.
"Hmmm," she murmured.
"Where are we?" he asked her. "How did we get here?"
"I don't know," she said, shaking her head. "It doesn't really matter, does it? All that matters is that we're here and we're all alone."
She rested her forehead on his. "It's so beautiful here."
"Almost as beautiful as you," he whispered. "That sounded a little too cheesy, didn't it?"
She laughed. "Just a little bit."
She smiled at him. "Promise me, Harry, that someday we'll come back here when we have more time. Promise me, we'll come back here when the world isn't so crazy and we have time."
"I'd promise you anything, you know that," he said. He looked down sheepishly. "That sounded cheesy,
too, didn't it?"
She just smiled and laughed.
"You find that funny, do you?" he said, taking her hand. He led her closer to the shoreline. "Let's see how funny you find it when you're all wet."
He playfully kicked up some of the water on to her skirt. She squealed with delight and then decided to do the same to him. They ran along the shoreline, kicking water back and forth at each other, laughing as they went. She ran a few feet ahead of him and he was trying to catch up with her when a cold voice stopped him.
"Hello, Harry," the voice said.
Harry turned to see Voldemort, but it wasn't the Voldemort he knew. It was the Voldemort of over 50 years ago. He was Tom Riddle. He was dressed not in a dark, hooded cloak, but a pair of khaki pants and a black button-down shirt.
"What are you doing here?" Harry asked him.
"She's quite pretty for a mudblood," Voldemort said.
"You leave her the hell alone," Harry said, his voice rising. "You don't go near her, do you hear me?"
"My dear boy, I have no intention of doing anything to your Miss Granger…not yet, anyway," Voldemort said, his eyes cold. He smiled sardonically at Harry.
"What does that mean?" Harry asked him. "What the hell does that mean?"
"It's not me you have to worry about hurting her," Voldemort replied condescendingly. "Anyone who loves you, always ends up paying a price for it, don't they? Your parents, Sirius Black. Who will be next? Who will make that sacrifice because they love you, Harry? Who will make that sacrifice because you love them?"
Harry looked away from Voldemort and watched Hermione. She was gazing out at the ocean.
"Look at her, Harry," Voldemort said. "Look at how happy she is. It would a shame for someone so young, so smart, and so full of life, to pay such a huge price. It would be a shame for her to lose her life because she's a part of yours."
"SHUT UP!" Harry yelled. "YOU SHUT UP!"
"You should turn your anger where it belongs, Harry," Voldemort said. "It won't be me that kills her. She won't die by my hand. She'll die because of you. She'll meet the same fate as your parents and your godfather. Quite a burden to bear, isn't it? It almost makes me feel sorry for you."
"SHUT UP!" Harry exclaimed. "SHUT UP AND LEAVE HER BE!"
"Enjoy her while you can," Voldemort said. "Time can be fleeting."
Harry watched in horror as Voldemort walked down the beach a few feet, before disappearing in thin air. To his horror, Harry turned his attention back to Hermione, but found she was gone, too.
From his hospital bed, Harry awoke with a start.