Unofficial Portkey Archive

Undercurrents

A girl asked a boy if she was pretty. He said no. She asked him if he wanted to be with her forever. He said no. She then asked him if he would cry if she walked away. He said no. She heard too much; she needed to leave. As she walked away, he grabbed her arm and told her to stay.

He said, "You're not pretty, you're beautiful. I don't want to be with you forever. I *need* to be with you forever. And I wouldn't cry if you walked away… I would die."

2: Catharsis

(k -thär s s) n. A release of emotional tension, as after an overwhelming experience, that restores or refreshes the spirit.

"This is all your fault."

It took an enormous amount of self-control to fight the vomit that threatened to make its way up and out of her throat. She had practically stumbled into her room, ignoring the sound of shattering glass and falling onto her knees before she reached the comfort of her bed. For a moment, vaguely aware of the throbbing pain in her knees, she observed her trembling hands against the cold hardwood floor, peach-kissed skin against dark mahogany wood.

She prided herself on emotional control ever since she was little. Her parents, who she loved very much, were never ones who could deal with an over-emotional individual. So she learned to hide her tears with her books when she was upset or hurt. She controlled her frustration and anger through carefully constructed walls. Thus was born Hermione Granger, star-pupil and perfect child, where insults were met with cool intellect and fear was crushed with rationality. Everything was objective. Everything was rational. Everything had a purpose and designated meaning.

And then there was Harry and Ron.

Ron Weasley was a good friend. He was an idiot from time to time, but meant well if you could see underneath all the layers that he had thrown up to protect himself. In some ways, she could relate to Ron. She had to live in the shadow of expectations of what people assumed her to be, as did Ron. Charlie and Bill Weasley, two of Hogwarts' finest, were Head Boy and Quidditch phenomena and now the top of their respective professions. Percy Weasley, although decision-making seemed not to be a strong point for him, fit into the role of boy genius and another Head Boy was born. Fred and George didn't have a role to fill; they created their own, were acknowledged for their own and rightfully so. And Ginny was the only girl in a family full of boys; it was only logical that she had her own shinning place.

But Ron, Ron seemed to be the awkward one out. It wasn't until Harry Potter came along with a simple offer of friendship that Ron became someone. He wasn't just another Weasley; he was Harry Potter's friend. Ron thrived on being that one-third of the Golden Trio. And because Harry Potter seemed invincible, so was he. Which is why what essentially happened at the Department of Mysteries was such a rude awakening.

It never really registered to Ron and even in some respects to her what being Harry Potter's friend meant in the Wizarding World. For her, Harry was just a boy and her friend who needed to be reminded to study for Potions every now and then. For her, Harry was the one that had subconsciously become her rock. For Ron, it was fame and glory and being the hero that someone would recognize. And for Ron, subconsciously, it was the boyhood mate that he would meet at the Hog's Head every now and then to remember their glorious Hogwarts' days when they were older and married.

Simplicity was only complicated when it came to being Harry Potter's friend. To the eyes of the Ministry and even the Order, being Harry Potter's friend was a liability. Sure, she and Ron could serve a use in the brewing war; there was no doubt they wouldn't--- But being associated in any way with Harry meant danger. Her own brush with death at the end of this year only proved the growing concern that had begun to eat at her. She was a target simply because she was his friend.

But what scared her even more was not even the notion of her family being in danger; it was losing Harry that scared her most.

Two warm hands settled on her shoulders. Harry. "Hermione."

She swallowed, not moving. "I just tripped on a loose board. I'm fine."

Tears threatened to fall from the loss of warmth as Harry pulled his hands from her shoulders. Her lips trembled as he settled down in front of her, tilting her chin up to met his gaze.

"I'm fine," she whispered.

A bitter smile crossed his lips. "No, you're not fine. Ron was an ass… I'm an ass. I'm a big ass."

Suddenly, the stabbing pain plaguing her from the earlier event didn't matter. Harry is an emotional mess, she reprimanded herself. And all you can do is sit here and feel sorry for yourself.

She moved forward, taking his hand in her own and unconsciously smoothing circles with her fingers against his palm. "Hey," she murmured softly. "You're not an ass. And I'm serious, I'm fine."

He was silent for a moment, his eyes downcast and studying the floor. A soft, shaky sigh escaped her lips and soon she found his gaze back on her. She swallowed, fighting an odd mix of blush and tears from coming out into the open.

"I'd like to think we don't have to pretend, you and I… I don't want you thinking you have to protect me from anything. I… It's not worth it," he paused, his eyes full of a drowning turbulence. "I don't deserve you."

"Don't ever say that," she hissed. "Don't ever say that."

He pulled his hand away from hers. "Well, it's true!" he exploded. "You've done nothing but try to help me and all I've done is brush you off. What kind of person am I?"

He pushed himself up into a standing position, turning away from her and his hands gripping the strewed sheets of her bed. "You're better off without me. You've done so much for me, damn it. And I've been so caught up in my own world, that I haven't even told you how much you mea--- how much I appreciate you. I… I--- Goddamn it! I almost lost you, Hermione!"

She jumped when he slammed his hand against one of the bedposts. In a familiar burst of anger, she watched as he grabbed her comforter and threw it to the floor. Hermione bit her lip and took a shaky step towards him.

"Harry-"

"I lost Sirius because I was stupid. I almost lost you because I was stupid," he continued to berate himself. "I should never have let you come to the Department of Mysteries. I should never have-"

She grabbed his arm with strength she'd never realized she had and yanked him to face her. Harry was that part of her life that she couldn't afford to lose, she mused. And if she was going to keep him, she had to let go of her warped notion of emotional control. This was Harry. Her best friend.

Her other half.

Somewhere in the back of her mind, rationality was screaming not to cross the line she was about to. But Harry was hurting and so she was hurting, and that was something she simply could not ignore.

Her grip on his arm tightened. "Harry, look at me."

"Hermione-"

"Look at me," she ordered softly, her voice full of intensity. "You made the choice to go to the Ministry because you thought you were doing the right thing, Harry. And I simply made the choice to follow you because I knew I was right."

Hermione gazed at him fiercely. "I made the choice to be your friend because I wanted to. And I'm certainly not going to stop. Yes, I was scared out of my bloody mind in the Department of Mysteries. Yes, I knew the moment those Lucius Malfoy and the Death Eaters went after us that there was a chance that we could all get seriously hurt or even worse. But I made my choice to go. I made my choice to go with you because if I had let you go and you hadn't come back, I would have never forgiven myself. So I never ever want to hear you say that I'm better off without you because I'm not. I don't know…"

The air in the room grew thick. There were a lot of unspoken words between them. Their relationship was complex, they both knew. It had relied solely on small gestures and smiles and their abilities to just understand each other. But even that was changing. Hermione could feel it and she knew without a doubt that Harry could feel it.

It was scary. Change was scary. And were they ready to accept it?

"Hermione," Harry murmured finally. "Come here."

And so she did. Into his open embrace, she burrowed herself with tears falling silently against her cheeks. His arms tightened around her waist.

"I need you," he murmured. "It's silly and it's selfish, but I do need you with me. So at the Ministry--- I just--- I can't, won't lose you."

She swallowed as he slipped his hand under her chin to bring her gaze upward. The fierceness of his gaze unnerved her and stirred a lot of emotions that she'd never even realized she had.

With a shaky smile, she stood up on her toes and pressed a kiss to his forehead. "I'm not promising anything until you promise me."

He chuckled pulling away from her slightly. "All right then." He lifted his hand to his mouth and spit into his palm. "Shake on it, then."

She wrinkled her nose in distaste and spoke with a hint of laughter. "Eww, Harry that's gross. I don't know where your mouth's been."

"That's a Parvati moment, you know," he replied with a grin.

"Oh sod off," she shot back with a laugh. "My parents are bloody dentists. Mouth sanitation has been drilled, pardon the bad pun, into my head."

He rolled his eyes. "Just this once, I promise my mouth's clean." He stretched his hand out again, the mood turning back into a blanket of somberness. "Shake on it."

She brought a trembling hand to her lips, mirroring his actions and spitting into her palm. She took his hand slowly and shook it firmly.

Harry bit his lip and then suddenly yanked her forward into his embrace, his lips falling upon her own in a brief kiss. There was nothing sweet about it nor did it carry any romantic notions. A promise was sealed through a childish handshake and now, a promise was sealed through a kiss.

There was no more him or her. It was now and it would always be-

We.

She smiled softly, nodding towards the loveseat by the window. "Keep me company?"

Harry nodded, tightening their embrace once more. "Always."

TO BE CONCLUDED

Author's Note:

*blinks* Well, this is running along smoothly. I'm so happy I don't know what to think. *blinks*

Anyhow, stay tuned until the next time for the final part. Jealousy, lies, more jealousy, some more lies… well no, not really. I'll just explain why I called this Undercurrents. Well, maybe not…

*shrugs* Just wait until the next and final part.

Thanks for all the reviews, guys. I really appreciate it. Thanks to Muddgutts for the lovely little challenge (which can be viewed at the forums here… http://talk.portkey.org/index.php?showtopic=5414&st=0). And thanks a bunch to my wonderful beta reader, Sarah. It's a scary thought when there's actually someone who wants to read the inner workings of your mind.