Undercurrents
Hiding backwards inside of me
I feel so unafraid
Annie, hold a little tighter
I might just slip away
The Becoming, NIN
1: The Nature of Circles
"You're staring at Hermione again."
And so he was. It seemed to be the only thing that was keeping him sane in the hollow walls of Grimmauld Place. Hermione seemed to be the only one of the three of them who could separate herself from the isolating loneliness that haunted this house. Either that or she was just better at hiding how she felt.
"I can't stand this place," Ron spat, slamming his fist against the wall for the fourth time today. "I shouldn't be here! I should be in Romania with Charlie."
Harry rolled his eyes. Ron's daily tirades were nothing new. Every day, four times a day with ten minutes of ranting the same thing over and over again. A part of him didn't blame Ron. He didn't want to be here either. Wounds from Sirius' death were still fresh and Grimmauld Place was just too empty, ready to eat away at their nerves. It really didn't help that it was just the three of them either.
Dumbledore had decided to keep them at Grimmauld Place because it was the safest place. So plans were changed, vacations were canceled, and it finally hit that there was really a war in the midst. The Weasleys were split up and shipped to different locations for safety precautions. Lupin was sent to France with Tonks and Moody. Dumbledore, who visited occasionally with McGonagall and Hagrid, stayed at Hogwarts with Neville and his grandmother. And Hermione's parents had taken an extended vacation to Japan.
He hated this house, he mused quietly. He hated this house and the emptiness that generated through it. He hated the fact that nothing ever stayed.
Everything had happened so fast. He had barely blinked weeks ago as he stepped off the train for the summer. Sixth year seemed so far away with the prospect of war now.
"Are you even listening?"
He shrugged. "Not really."
Get over yourself, he wanted to say. You're not the only one who has to be here. We're all here, aren't we?
"You know, I don't even know why I bother. I listen to you all the time, mate. The least you could do is-"
He just tuned Ron out and went back to watching Hermione. She sat away from the two of them at their place on the stairs. She sat with her knees tucked to her chest and an old blanket on her shoulder, staring blankly at several scattered books in front of her.
She looked so tired, he mused. He wondered if she had been sleeping at all. She never said much anymore, just the occasional small talk when Dumbledore and the others dropped by.
"I'm going to go talk to Hermione," he spoke suddenly, more to himself than to Ron. He wanted to know what was wrong… He just wanted to talk to her and anything was better than fighting with Ron.
Ron glared. "What's your problem, mate? I just want to talk."
"About what?" he snapped. "What the hell could you possibly want to say? You've already established that you don't want to be here, so what's left to say?"
"Oh sod off, boy-savior," Ron growled back angrily. "Grow up! You've got to learn that the world doesn't revolve around Harry-bloody-Potter."
Harry turned around to face Ron; biting his lip so hard he drew blood. "You know what, Ron? Screw you. I never asked for any of this and I know you get jealous from time to time, but this is stupid. I don't want to be here. You don't want to be here. Get. Over. It."
Somewhere in the back of his mind he recognized the significance of why the three of them were alone in Grimmauld Place. This was their test of strength. This was their test of friendship. And it seemed suddenly that someone was going to fail miserably.
"He's dead, Harry," Ron's voice interrupted. "Sirius is dead. He's not coming back. You need to let him go."
"Don't you think that I know that? It isn't like everything in this, this house," he spat. "Reminds me of Sirius, Ron. And that's something I can't get away from."
Ron growled and slammed his hand against the wall. "We never used to talk like this. What happened to--- Where are you going?"
Away. He couldn't stand here and listen to Ron rant. He could feel everything on the verge of getting out of hand.
"To talk to Hermione because obviously I can't talk to you."
Harry walked down the steps and into the living room, swallowing nervously as he approached the couch. He placed a hand on her shoulder, causing her to jump. She craned her neck upwards and he swallowed again, wondering why he was so nervous.
"Hey," he murmured.
"Hey yourself," she responded, a ghost of a smile appearing on her lips.
"Can I sit?"
She shrugged. "If you want to. I'm not the best of company right now, though."
"Neither is he," he responded, pointing to where he had been sitting with Ron earlier. "And I… You just look like you needed company."
He was rewarded with a small smile, but a smile nonetheless. She shifted over to make more room for him and offered him a part of her blanket. He smiled and then swallowed. Why do I feel like this? He wondered. It's just Hermione.
"I-"
"Do you always walk away from conversations, Harry?"
He sighed. "I really don't want to talk to you, Ron."
Ron made his way around the couch, his eyes narrowed. "But you want to talk to Hermione…"
"Ron, will you stop," Hermione spoke up suddenly. "Please."
"Stay out of this," Ron hissed. "This is between the two of us. Not you."
He stood up, standing face to face with Ron. He could feel the anger coursing through his veins. He felt ready to hit him even. "Hey," Harry spoke quietly. "Leave her out of this. Just because you're miserable, it doesn't mean that you should take it out on her."
"Oh, so now this is how it is? Already taking sides now, Hermione. You always take his bloody side. Poor Harry," he sneered.
Hermione stood, one hand on his shoulder and the other between Ron and him. "Both of you need to stop before it gets out of hand. Please. We're all tired. We're all frustrated. Just stop."
"This is all your fault!"
And then there was silence. Hermione's hand fell limply to her side and Harry felt a cold shiver encompass his body. It was in that moment that the full implications of the words that left Ron's mouth finally hit him.
"You're not the only one who's worried about their family, Ron," Hermione spoke quietly, her voice echoing through the empty room. "God forbid the worst happens, but at least if they're killed, they won't become another statistic… At least, they can see you…"
She was gone then, her footsteps disappearing up the stairs. He clenched his fists, fighting the anger that threatened to take over any rational thought. He bit his lip. "You are a prat, Ron," he hissed.
"What?"
"You heard me. You had no right to do that," he responded, venom laced in his voice.
Ron whirled around. His angry eyes trained on Harry. "It's the truth. If she hadn't butted into our business first year-"
"Our business," Harry finally exploded. "Our business. You can't even say Voldemort's name! It's my bloody business. It's my mess. The only person who can remotely say that it's their business is Hermione. You and I both know that she's been there more times for me than I actually deserve. You, Ron, you seem to only stick with me when it's damn convenient and when you can get a piece of hero-worship on the side. Hermione never asked to be a part of this. But she's certainly saved me more times than I can count," he paused, slamming his hand against the coffee table. The vase of flowers that Tonks had brought with her on one of her visits from France, rattled and moved dangerously closer to the edge.
"She was just trying to keep the peace. We've been fighting every damn day. We've- I've never even asked once how she was doing. You and I are both lucky, you know. Remus, Tonks, and even Hagrid come to see us… they're my unconventional family. Your parents and Gin, come to visit every now and then for Order meetings. But her parents are in Japan. They can't write to her because it might endanger our location and us. She can't call them on the phone because according to Dumbledore, it's not safe at all. Can you imagine how she feels? She cares Ron… She cares when no one else will. I…"
Ron stood, his lips pursed tightly until they were white. "You what?"
"I don't know…"
He turned and left, determined to say something to Hermione, to make whatever was happening right between them. He would tell her how much he appreciated her; he had never done it enough.
It wasn't until he reached the stairs that he heard the shattering of glass behind him.
TBC
Author's Notes
Yeah, Yeah. I know. I still have to finish Hues (BTW, it's going to be rewritten because I'm not happy with the direction it went in… so look out for it) and a boatload of other things… And I will, but this challenge was just too much fun to pass up. I love angst especially when the school semester starts again. ^_^;; Ron was a bit of an ass, but can you blame him? Cabin fever sucks.
Thanks to Muddgutts for the brilliant challenge and saving me from angst withdrawal.