A/N: Once again, thanks so much for all the lovely reviews! I'm so happy that my writing can
touch someone, and it feels REALLY good to receive such niceness back. I had a lot of fun (and admittedly some trouble)
writing this story. And as with my other stories (with the exception of the outtake from SIH), this one swelled beyond
what I originally intended. But, sadly, this is the last chapter for this story. Thanks so much again, and hopefully
inspiration will strike again sometime and I'll have a new story for y'all. Rock on!
IV
The first quarter of the journey aboard the Hogwarts Express the next day was unnaturally subdued for Harry. For the
first half hour of the trip, he sat with Neville, Ginny and Luna while Ron and Hermione attended the mandatory Prefect
meeting.
It was the first time that either he or Hermione had been in close proximity with Ron since the day before. Ron hadn't come down to dinner - a vivid warning signal - and had been already packed and downstairs when Harry woke up.
Harry's heart had sunk with that realization because it felt like Halloween night of fourth year all over again - the night his name had come out of the Goblet of Fire and Ron had more or less called him an attention-seeking liar. Ron had avoided him in the morning that time too, and because that first opportunity for communication had been lost, the wound had deepened and festered, and it'd been at least a month before they'd reconciled.
God, he hoped this wouldn't be a repeat occurrence. It was the worst possible time to have a falling out with one of his best friends.
Before he'd had too much time to agonize, however, there had been a knock on his door.
"Come in," he said softly and his heart leapt when he saw who it was.
"Morning," she said, smiling as she closed the door behind her.
Harry straightened up from packing his trunk and gathered her into his arms. "Morning."
They held each other desperately for a long moment, both because they could and because they were attempting to postpone the inevitable moment when they would have to go downstairs. Downstairs to face not only the curious and concerned questions of the other occupants of 12G, but also the undoubtedly pointed cold shoulder from their best friend.
Finally, they pulled apart slowly, though Harry still held her close.
Hermione stared up into his eyes. "Are you alright?" she asked, stroking his cheek.
He nodded. "I'm ok. You?"
"I'm ok too, but I'm so confused," she sighed. "A part of me is so happy because we're together, you know, and I love you so much. But then there's this other part that is so scared and hurt." Her brown eyes filled up. "We never meant to hurt him, Harry. How could he say those things? How could he think-"
Harry hugged her to him fiercely, wishing he could take away her pain, her fear but knowing he couldn't because he was filled to overflowing with the exact same emotions. He loved her, he cared for her so much and he hated that the real start of their relationship had to have such unpleasant connotations looming over it.
Feeling utterly helpless, he could only hold her as she cried into his chest. Once she'd calmed down, Harry leaned forward and, somewhat shyly, pecked her quickly on the lips but Hermione clung to him and kissed him back hungrily. And suddenly the mood in the room shifted and they were no longer comforting and attempting to be comforted. Rather, they were fervertly expressing their love, their longing for each other. There was no room for any other emotion but the wonder and fierce joy of two people whose friendship, already remarkable in and of itself, had budded and blossomed into so much more.
And when they finally broke apart, cheeks flushed and lips swollen, Harry felt like he had swallowed a gallon of warm butterbeer. He felt like he could take on anything. He had Hermione on his side, and so help him, he would have Ron back too.
So help him.
******
"Harry?"
He looked up to see Neville, Ginny and Luna all staring at him quizzically.
"Uh, what?" he asked, looking between them and trying to fight his irritation. He'd just been trying to think of a way to talk to Ron while they were all still on the train and away from Hogwarts and its multiple distractions and places to hide.
"I asked what happened between you and Ron and Hermione?" Ginny repeated. "It seemed to me like Ron was avoiding the two of you all last night and this morning."
Harry shrugged. He really didn't want to talk about it, least of all with Ginny, Neville or Luna.
Ginny frowned. "Did it have anything to do with Sirius? Cause I know that the Ministry is planning on putting out a statement about that. Dad was talking about it this morning. But why would Ron be mad about that?"
Harry shrugged again, noncommittally.
"Oh come on, it's obvious something is wrong!" persisted Ginny.
"I'm not going to talk about it, Ginny, so just drop it," Harry snapped, his irritation getting the better of him.
She opened her mouth, no doubt to retort, but Neville shook his head at her and she leaned back in her seat instead, her frown deepening. Nobody spoke again until the door of their compartment slid open and Hermione came in. She shut the door, looking anxious and Harry stood up.
"What's wrong? Where's Ron?"
She headed straight for his arms and Harry buried his face in her hair, ignoring the avid stares of the other people in the compartment.
"He wouldn't talk to me," Hermione whispered, her voice choked. "And then he just walked away, telling Ernie MacMillan that he was going to sit with Dean and Seamus for a change."
Harry squeezed his eyes shut, feeling the short, quick breaths Hermione was taking as she tried not to cry again. He'd been hoping that it wouldn't come to this but desperate times called for desperate measures and they had to talk to Ron before the train arrived at Hogwarts. He couldn't risk this dragging out, not now, not this time.
He pulled away gently and took Hermione's hand. "Let's go."
She looked startled. "What? Where?"
"To talk to Ron."
"What, now? Harry, I don't think we should," she said worriedly.
Harry stared down at her. "What're you talking about? The longer we let this go on, the harder it will be to work it out. Remember last time?"
She nodded, wringing her hands in despair. "Yes, I remember. But, Harry, I think we should let him come to it on his own terms. If we try to push him, that might make it worse and that's the last thing we want!"
Harry rubbed his head in frustration. She was right. But he hated sitting around doing nothing, not when there was a chance that they might get through to Ron. "Look-"
But just then the compartment door slid open again and standing in the doorway was the very person they'd been debating going to find. And now that they were in each other's presence, Harry found himself suddenly at a loss for what to say.
It was Ron who broke the silence. "Can I talk to you guys for a minute?" he muttered, glancing at Harry and Hermione.
"Of course," Hermione said quickly. She looked around at Neville, Ginny and Luna. "Could you excuse us for a bit?"
Neville and Luna stood up immediately. "Sure. I wanted to talk to Seamus about something, anyway," Neville said, heading for the door. He turned to look back at Ginny, who hadn't moved from her seat. "You coming or what?"
"No," she said flatly, crossing her arms and glaring up at the Trio.
Ron scowled. "I need to talk to Harry and Hermione. In private. This has nothing to do with you, so get out."
Ginny jumped up, the beginnings of one of the infamous Weasley rages evident on her face. "Do not talk to me like that, Ron Weasley! I have as much right to know-"
"No, you don't," Harry interrupted coldly.
"Ginny, please," Hermione said desperately, tears shining in her eyes.
The other girl's eyes flickered briefly, her face mutinous, before she spun around and flounced out of the compartment without another word.
"Good luck, Ronald," Luna said softly as she followed Neville out. The door slid shut with what Harry thought sounded like an eerie finality, or maybe that was just his anxiety talking.
"Let's sit down," Hermione chirped with a desperate cheerfulness, wiping her eyes, and despite the awkwardness, neither of the boys had the heart to disobey. They sat, tense and stiff-backed. "So you wanted to talk to us?"
Ron fidgeted, his ears crimson. "Uh, yeah. Listen... it's just- it- look, you guys just caught me by surprise, that's all. Even though I'd kinda been expecting it."
"Expecting it?"
"You guys to get together," Ron replied, gesturing between Harry and Hermione. Upon seeing their identically puzzled faces, he elaborated. "It was kind of obvious. I'm not the only one who noticed."
Hermione looked genuinely confused. "But I don't understand. Harry and I were just friends. What was there to notice?"
"The way you look at him," Ron answered simply. "The way you, more often than not, listen to her. She was the only person that you really listened to all last year," he said, glancing at Harry.
Harry didn't know what to say to that so he just nodded and Ron continued. "I think I started getting hints of it back in third year, but I didn't really look at it until fourth year when Rita Skeeter wrote those articles."
"What, don't tell me you believed any of that rubbish!" Hermione cried, looking aghast.
"Not all of it. But some of what she wrote rang true." Ron sighed, looking everywhere but at them. "You have to understand. The two of you can't see the way you act with each other. It's us on the outside that really see it, and it seemed to me that there was more than just friendship feelings there, even if neither of you had realized it yet." He sighed again. "Of course I didn't want to believe it at the time."
Harry thought that what Ron had just said showed remarkable, uncharacteristic insight but he had a question. "Why didn't you want to believe it?"
Ron went red and it took him a while to answer. "Cause for a while, I thought I liked Hermione."
Harry leaned back, stunned, but when he glanced at Hermione, she didn't seem the least bit surprised. "I thought as much. But it didn't ever seem to me that you really did. More like you just thought you should."
"Er, I think it was because I could see what was happening between you two, and I didn't want to be left out. So I kinda convinced myself that I liked you too." Ron's words came out in a rush, as if he was trying to get them all out before he lost his nerve. "That's why I reacted like that to Krum, though a part of it was jealousy. You were getting to hang out with my idol and add to that, both of you were in the spotlight at the Yule Ball," he added, managing somehow to keep the bitterness in his voice to a minimum.
"And then I went and made an arse out of myself and ruined your night. I'm ashamed that I never apologized and I'm sorry, Hermione. I never meant to hurt your feelings."
'Yes, you did,' Harry thought, recalling the look of mingled anger and satisfaction on Ron's face when Hermione had run out in tears. But in keeping with the conciliatory spirit of the situation, he decided to hold his tongue. He had to, at the very least, give Ron credit for being honest, even if it was only partially. It can't have been easy for him to admit what he just had.
"Thank you. It means a lot to hear you say that," Hermione sniffled and Harry stroked her hand soothingly.
For a long moment, there was silence. It became quite obvious that Ron had said all he was going to say and Harry's conflicted feeling slowly increased. Because on the one hand, he was very relieved that Ron was already talking to them, that he was sharing things that he hadn't before. That was undoubtedly a step in the right direction, and Harry didn't want to do anything to mess that up. But what about all the things he had said the night before? What about Ron's insecurity, jealousy, inferiority complex? Wasn't he going to talk about that at all? Because as long as those things were left unsaid and uninvestigated on Ron's part, things were just going to flare up again.
"Ron?" Their friend looked up warily and Harry got the feeling that Ron knew what was coming. "Listen, I don't want to make things worse, but what about-"
Ron looked extremely uncomfortable. "Can we not talk about that right now? It's something I need to figure out on my own."
"We understand. Don't we, Harry?" Hermione said, staring at him imploringly and after a moment of hesitation, he nodded. "And we're here for you, Ron. You know that."
Ron looked away for a full minute before he spoke again, with a slightly pained expression. "I'm not saying it will be easy. It will take time for me to get used to this, but I'm willing to try, if you are."
"Of course," Hermione said fervertly. "Harry needs you, Ron. We both do. Especially now when everything is going to hell in a handbasket."
For an instant, things seemed perfectly normal among them as Ron stared at Hermione like she'd just sprouted gibberish. "What?"
Harry grinned uneasily. "It's a Muggle saying. Basically means everything is going wrong in the world."
"On second thought, maybe not everything," Hermione said softly, gazing at Harry tenderly and he smiled at her, feeling his heart da-dumping giddily. He looked up to see Ron watching them.
"And we're all friends again," Harry added quickly, noting the conflicted look in Ron's eyes. "Right?"
It took him a few seconds, but Ron managed a small smile. "Right."
And for the first time in twenty-four hours, all three members of the trio smiled at each other - shaky smiles, sure, but it was a beginning - and, in spite of himself, a speck of hope flared in Harry Potter's heart. He knew they hadn't talked about even half of what was really bothering Ron. He knew Ron couldn't possibly have, overnight, come fully to terms with the changes in their friendship. He knew that the pitch hadn't been cleared of every hurdle or bump, not by any means.
But he found that at this particular moment in time, he could overlook that. He had his best friend back, however fragmentedly, and that was a start. It was a start, wasn't it? They could work on it as they went along, and maybe one day soon Ron would finally really open up and they could help him. Right?
He had his other best friend hand in hand with him, she having stepped so far across the line, sunk so deeply into his soul, that he doubted they would ever be quite separate again. Hermione was on his side and he loved her: on those particular counts, he had no doubts, he had no fears about the density of or the truth in the claim.
And even though so many things had gone wrong in his life, so many things promising to go wrong, Voldemort back and salivating for his blood, Harry found that, nevertheless, some things were good. There was a storm bearing down on them all, the whirlwind had penetrated even the very tight-knit circle of his personal life. But he had love and he had friendship and maybe he was a fool for hoping, but that's what he was doing. That was what he was doing.
And sometimes, a speck of hope made all the difference.