Chapter Six
Sound of Silence
"Hello darkness, my old friend,
I've come to talk with you again,
Because a vision softly creeping,
Left it's seeds while I was sleeping,
And the vision that was planted in my brain
Still remains
Within the sound of silence."
Simon & Garfunkel "The Sound of Silence"
It was late morning when Madame Pomfrey finally relented and released Harry from the hospital. He was restless. Ever since he'd woken up from that horrible nightmare, he hadn't been able to get back to sleep. He'd agonized over the decision he knew he now must make. He hadn't wanted to make it, but any doubts he had were cleared away by that dream. That familiar feeling of guilt and worry had returned to him tenfold.
There was no other way. If she was going to stay safe, he'd have to do it. Pushing her away would be the hardest thing he'd ever done in his life. She wouldn't understand, and he wasn't really sure that he understood fully, but he felt that in the end, this was the best and wisest decision. The question was how was he going to be able to do it? How would he be able to muster the stones it would take to do it? One look in her eyes and he knew he'd crumble.
It had nearly killed him when she'd been taken out of school and moved out of the country. How was he going to be able to do this and still have to look at her day in and day out? He couldn't imagine not being able to tell her how his day went or listen as she told him about hers. He didn't know what it would be like not to share private jokes and thoughts with her. He didn't know what it would be like to not have her smiling face be the one thing that told him he could get through the day, no matter how bad it might get. How was he ever going to be able to do this?
He was supposed to rejoin his classmates for afternoon lessons. He'd been released a good half hour before lunch. Since he had a few minutes, he decided to search out Professor Lupin and see if he could offer him some advice. If he ever needed it, he needed it now.
He stood outside Professor Lupin's door and listened as he heard him explaining dementors to a group of first-year Hufflepuffs and Ravenclaws. As Harry looked at the students listening intently to their professor, he couldn't help feeling envious of them. He wished he could be in their shoes. They didn't have a care in the world, did they? Their biggest concern was probably how they'd make it through their first year lessons or what they'd eat for lunch in a few minutes. They didn't have the fate of the entire wizarding world on their shoulders, did they? They didn't have to break the heart of the one person they cared about above all others, did they? They didn't have to worry about prophecies or cope with the fact that simply by existing, that they were a danger to the people who were unfortunate enough to love you.
His thoughts were interrupted by the sound of students coming out of their classrooms, talking animatedly with each other and rushing off to the Great Hall. Harry waited until the last student left Professor Lupin's classroom before entering. Professor Lupin was about to ascend the staircase to his office when he caught sight of Harry hovering nervously by the door.
"Harry," Lupin said a touch of surprise in his voice. "When did you get out?"
"Just a few moments ago, Professor," Harry said, stepping forward.
"Are you feeling alright?" Lupin asked him.
"Yeah," Harry said, looking down at the floor. "Madame Pomfrey wants me to wear this bandage around my wrist until it's completely healed, but other than that, she thinks I'll be okay."
"Good to hear," Lupin said, smiling. "So what brings you here this time of day? I thought you'd be reuniting with Hermione about now. I saw her in the halls and she tells me that the old dream team is back together. Jolly good to hear it!"
Harry gave a half-hearted smile. "Yeah."
"Okay," Lupin said, noticing Harry's lack of enthusiasm.
"I was wondering if I could talk to you about something," Harry said timidly. "I mean, you said that if I needed to talk to someone, I could come to you. If that offer still stands, I'd like to take you up on it."
Lupin smiled and nodded. "Let's go on in my office."
Harry nodded and followed him up the stairs. Within moments, they were seated in Professor Lupin's office. Lupin sat behind his desk and Harry sat in the chair directly across from him.
"So, is everything okay?" Lupin asked. "Well, one look at you and that tells me that was a stupid question."
Harry didn't say anything.
"Is this about your accident yesterday? Dumbledore expressed some concern that it might have something to do with Voldemort," Lupin said. "I would think it was something to tell you to stay on your toes, not become too complacent."
Harry nodded.
"That's not it, though, is it?" Lupin asked him.
Harry hesitated for a moment before unloading everything he could remember about the dream. Lupin listened intently and nodded at the appropriate moments. When Harry was finished, he didn't speak for a few moments. He looked rather thoughtful as he seemed to be taking in all that Harry had just told him.
"Well," Lupin said, rubbing his chin. "I think it was just a dream, Harry. I don't think it has any bearing on what might happen in the future. I think you have some unresolved feelings about what happened to your parents and to Sirius and it's causing you to worry that the same fate could befall Hermione. It's only natural to think that. Notice I said natural, but not rational, Harry."
"Yes," Harry said impatiently, "but don't think on some level it is? I mean, if it wasn't for me, she'd never have had to face any of this! She wouldn't be in and out of the hospital wing; her parents wouldn't have dragged her halfway across the world just to get her away from me!"
"Would she be happy, though?" Lupin asked him. "Would you be happy?"
"It doesn't make a difference about me! It's selfish to think only of myself!" he said angrily.
"Well, it's stupid to think you should just go through life closing yourself off from people and letting people inside your soul, inside your heart, just because you're afraid that something bad might happen. That's what life is, Harry! It's about taking chances!"
"Taking chances could get her killed," Harry said calmly. He was trying to get his emotions in check, but finding it more difficult.
"Do you know Hermione's a smart girl," Lupin said. "I'm sure if she was afraid of being your friend or afraid of being your girlfriend, I think she would have taken off a long time ago, don't you? She's still here, Harry. She's by your side. I think if you asked her, she'd tell you that there was no place else she'd rather be."
"I know what you're saying," Harry said, "but I can't help thinking that if something happened to her and I was somehow the cause of it, I don't know how I'd be able to live with myself. I don't know what I'd do if something happened to her."
"Harry," Lupin said, but Harry interjected.
"And Voldemort knows this," Harry said sadly. "He knows that he can get to me by trying to hurt the ones I love. You know that's true."
"I won't lie to you, Harry," Lupin said. "That's what he does. He exploits someone's weaknesses to gain the upper hand. Yours is that you have a big heart. You care a great deal about people. This is such an extraordinary thing to have, to possess. Considering your childhood, it's even more amazing."
Harry nodded.
"If you close yourself off from those who care about you, you are defeating yourself, Harry," Lupin said. "You'll be the weaker person for it. Trust me."
"Consider this, Harry," Lupin continued. "Even if you push her away, you won't be able to deny what's in your heart. He could still use your love for her against you. Don't you see?"
"So, either way, I can't win," he said. "She'd have been better off in America."
"You know that isn't true," Lupin said. "If you truly believed that, you wouldn't have gone
to such lengths to see her. You wouldn't have gone to such trouble to get her back."
Harry stood up from his chair and stared at Lupin for a few moments.
"I, um, better get to class," he said. "Lunch should be just about done by now. I have, um, Herbology this afternoon."
"You already made up your mind before you came in here, didn't you, Harry?"
Harry didn't answer. He turned slowly around and made for the doorway.
"If you do this, you'll regret it," Lupin said, quietly.
Harry pretended he hadn't heard as he walked out of the office.
Harry quickly made his way back to Gryffindor Tower to pick up his school things before heading to the greenhouses. When he walked into the classroom, he saw that Hermione and his fellow Gryffindors were already there, along with some assorted Hufflepuff students who were also in the class.
Hermione was standing with Neville, Lavender and Ron, talking animatedly about something. They had their backs to him and for the longest time, he just stood there and watched them, namely he watched her.
Just looking at her, he felt as if his heart would leap out of his chest. He watched as Ron said something and she and Lavender slapped him on the shoulders in protest.
"Harry!" Neville called out, as he turned around to see him standing in the doorway.
Harry didn't say anything. He just watched as Hermione turned expectantly around and broke out into a grin as she saw her boyfriend. She quickly walked over to him, her eyes bright and shining.
"Hi," she said, beaming at him. "Are you doing okay?"
He nodded.
She threw her arms around him and hugged him tightly. He kept his arms to his side, not hugging her back.
She reluctantly let go and stared back at him, a look of confusion coming across her features.
"Did I hurt you, just then?" she asked.
"Yeah, Hermione," Ron said, patting his friend on the back. "He just got out of the hospital two minutes ago and you'll have him back in there with your crushing Rugby-style hugs."
Hermione laughed nervously and blushed.
Harry, on the other hand, said nothing. His face was blank, his eyes cold.
Hermione was about to say something when Professor Sprout came into the greenhouse and ordered the students to man their stations. Hermione gave Harry a nervous smile before turning and heading for her particular station. Instead of following her, he stayed at the back of the class and sat down beside Neville.
For what it was worth, Professor Sprout could have taught the class in Russian. He didn't hear a word she said. He kept trying not to notice the looks Hermione shot him every once in awhile. She'd turn and give him an odd, hurt look before turning back around to her own plant.
When class was over, he darted out of the greenhouse so fast; you would have thought the room was on fire. He didn't wait for Hermione or Ron or anyone else. He needed to be alone. He didn't want to be alone, but he knew he had to be. He didn't like it, but he had to get used to it. This was his lot in life. He didn't have to like it, he didn't have to enjoy it, but he did have to do it. So, why, he couldn't help asking himself, did it hurt so much?
He was avoiding her. She wasn't stupid. She knew what he was doing. She just didn't understand why. What had happened to make him do a complete 180-degree turn from the boy who lovingly kissed her goodbye just last night?
She tried to tell herself that he was just having a bad day, but that couldn't be it. He wouldn't intentionally be so cold and unfeeling, especially to her. She hadn't done anything to warrant such treatment, after all, she thought.
She'd waited for him for dinner, but Seamus said that Harry was taking a nap and had told them all to go on downstairs without him. They had, but she'd barely touched her food. She was so worried about him. This, of course, was nothing new. She'd spent the majority of her pre-teen and teenage years worried about him. It was natural to her, almost like breathing.
She'd asked Ron to check on Harry for her when they got back to Gryffindor Tower. He left her in the Common Room while she waited on one of the large sofas. About 15 minutes later, Ron came back downstairs, alone.
"Well?" Hermione asked him expectantly.
Ron looked at his friend and tried to give her a reassured look, but failed miserably.
"He, um, said he didn't really feel like coming down right now," he said.
"Did he say why?" Hermione asked him impatiently.
"No," Ron said. "He just said he was really tired and didn't really feel like company tonight."
"And you didn't ask him why?" Hermione asked him.
"No," Ron said complacently. "What is it with you girls? You have to have a reason and an explanation for everything. You have to make everything so damn complicated. Why not just take something for what it is, and just let it go? I mean, if a guy says he doesn't want to talk about something, other guys take him at his word and go about their business. A girl says she doesn't want to talk about something and waits for the guy to ask her what's wrong, only to find out that it is usually him that's what's wrong."
"Oh, honestly," Hermione said, rolling her eyes. "You should write a book, Ron, and call it The Complete Idiot's Guide to Friendship and Relationships."
She abruptly stood up from the sofa and walked toward the staircase.
"Oi, Hermione!" Ron said. "Where do you think you're going?"
"I'm going to find out what's wrong," she said.
She left behind a flabbergasted Ron and walked up the staircase to the sixth-year boy's dormitory. She knocked firmly on the door.
"Come in," Harry said softly.
"Girl entering the premises," Hermione said, as she opened the door. "Girl entering the premises." She poked her head inside the door and looked around.
"It's okay," Harry said. "I'm the only one in here, Hermione."
"Oh, so you do remember how to talk to me," she said sarcastically.
"What are you doing up here, Hermione?" he asked her. He was sitting on his four-poster bed, flipping absently through the pages of a quidditch supply catalog.
She walked over to his bedside and sat down on the edge of the bed.
"Did I do something?" she asked him softly.
"No," he said, not looking at her. "You didn't do anything."
"Well, if it wasn't me, what is it?" she asked him, her eyes pleading with him. She grabbed the catalog out of his hands.
"Look at me, Harry," she said. "Talk to me. Tell me what it is."
"I can't," he said, standing up from the bed.
"Yes, you can," she said. "Remember, you said that we were in this together, right? You and me against the world, right?"
She got up from the bed and stood behind him. He was looking out at the grounds from the window. She hesitantly put an arm on his shoulder.
"Look at me, Harry," she said. "Please."
He didn't turn around.
"It's not you, Hermione," he whispered. "It's me. Okay. That's all I can tell you,
okay?"
"Well, I don't accept that," she said. She could feel a lump rising in her throat. "Tell me what it really is, Harry."
"I just think we need some space," he said, choking on the words. "Some time apart."
"What?" she asked incredulously. "Time apart?"
"Time…apart," he said.
She felt as if the wind had been knocked out of her. She'd expected anything, but to hear that. She stood there for a few moments, watching him as he looked out the window. This didn't feel right. Something in his voice told her that this wasn't right. That this couldn't possibly be right.
"Harry," she said softly. "If that is truly what you want, turn around and look me in the eyes and tell me that. If that's what you want, turn around and say it to my face and I'll do as you ask. I'll leave you alone."
He tentatively turned around. He didn't look at her, though.
"Look at me," she said, her voice cracking. "Look at me and say it."
He looked into her eyes and stared at her for what seemed like hours, but was only seconds.
"I," he began.
"Yes," she whispered. She stepped closer to him.
"I, um," he said, still looking into her brown eyes. She closed the gap between them even further so that their faces were inches apart.
"You," he tried again. He couldn't breathe, he couldn't think. All he could see was her.
He brought his hand to her face and touched her cheek, brushing it softly with his fingers. The next thing either of them knew they were kissing, holding each other with such an intensity that both delighted and scared Hermione.
He kissed her neck, and she closed her eyes as he ran his fingers up and down her arms, lightly.
"I love you, Harry," she said, her voice barely above a whisper.
"What did you say?" he asked, freezing in place. He let go of her and she looked up at him.
"I love you, Harry," she said, matter-of-factly.
He stepped away from her.
"What is it?" she asked.
"I can't do this, Hermione," he said, stepping away from her.
"Harry," she said, worriedly.
He was inching out of the room, a look of horror on his face.
"What is it?" she asked again.
"I'm sorry," he said, "but I can't do this. I can't do this."
She could only look on as he quickly walked out of the room.
She couldn't help but wonder what the hell was going on. She felt as if her knees were going to give way at any second. She sat down on his bed.
This couldn't be happening, not after all that they'd done to be together. He loved her, she knew he did. What she didn't know was why he was acting like this. She didn't like not knowing something. If there was one thing she could do was find the answers. She'd never failed at that before and she didn't intend to start now.
Author's Note:
Thanks to ya'll who've read and reviewed! I think you guys are awesome! I hope you like this chapter! I hope to
post next one soon…hopefully…remember, I don't have baseball to occupy my time now….dag dern Braves! ….I'm not
bitter or anything….no, not at all….lol….