Undercurrents
Just when everything was making sense
You took away all my self-confidence
Now all that I've been hearing must be true
I guess I'm not the only boy for you.
NIN, "That's What I Get"
3: Deluge
\Del"uge\, v. To overwhelm, as with a deluge; to cover; to overspread; to overpower; to submerge; to destroy.
"Are you even listening?"
"Not really."
There was a certain satisfaction that came with throwing the lone vase with flowers against the wall, he mused from his place on the couch. Vindictiveness seemed justifiable in destroying the one object that oozed cheerfulness in the pit known as Grimmauld Place. His eyes closed tiredly as he listened with dark pleasure to the glass crunch under his shoes. This place was miserable, he reflected bitterly. Hollow, empty, and…
No one was listening to him.
He sighed. Maybe if he apologized. Maybe if he apologized everything would go back to normal and they would return to being miserable together. And then they would listen. He stood up and made his way to the stairs, his hands shoved deep into his pockets as he journeyed upstairs to find his two friends.
Friend. He reflected almost angrily. Friend. He was a damn good friend if you asked him. He was there for Harry when Malfoy tried to start something. He was there for Hermione when the Slytherins picked on her, although he knew deep down that she could fight her own battles as a force to be reckoned with. He gave Harry space when he went through his angry at the world rants. He knew about the nightmares that Hermione had every night since that stupid rescue mission they embarked on to the Department of Mysteries. He knew that her nightmares had plagued her even before that trip, going as far back as second year when she had been petrified. Ginny had told him two summers ago at the Burrow.
He sighed, burying his head in his hands. Why couldn't he ever say the right thing? Harry seemed to have it down pat when it came to talking to Hermione. It was easy for him. Just a simple arm around the shoulder. A smile. A stupid thank you. And Hermione would be wrapped completely around his finger. Not to say that it didn't go both ways. Although Harry's moods had the tendency to become extremely unpredictable after last year, all Hermione had to bloody do was smile.
But for him, every damn word was a slap to face. Better make the best of it, he mused standing up. They were here for Merlin knows how long and having Hermione angry with him was not a good thing. If it were one thing the girl knew how to do well, besides every other little thing, her silent treatment was tough. In fact over the last couple years when their arguments had intensified, it had become pretty vicious.
Ron began to make his way up the stairs, rehearsing an apology to both his friends in his head. He thought back briefly to something Bill had wrote to him, shortly after Voldermont had gained stronghold in Egypt. Life, he had written. Life cannot be looked in Black and White. IF you look in all colors, all perspectives… No one will get hurt. You won't get hurt. Other than that, better make the best of it.
Better make the best of it, he kept repeating to himself. Better make the best of it. So up the stairs he went, through the dark corridor and to the far end of the hall, to the room that Hermione had claimed away from both Harry and him. For both privacy and sanity, she had said at the beginning of their stay. There's too much grief in this house and sometimes you've got to take every available opportunity to break away. Before everything swallows you up.
Before everything swallows you up…
Everything swallows…
Swallows…
"Hermione…"
Ron nearly stopped breathing altogether when Harry spoke his other best friend's name with such feverish intensity. He swallowed, his eyes lingering on the thin light the escaped from the opened door at the end of the corridor.
"I just tripped on a loose board," came the soft response. "I'm fine."
Unconsciously, Ron's fists began to clench. She was trying to hide the fact that she had been crying. Hermione was crying, he silently berated himself. He stepped closer, fully intent on going inside and truly apologizing. For it was one thing to have Hermione crying, but what really unnerved him was that he had made Hermione cry. That was the worst feeling.
He stopped when the forms of his two friends came into clear view. He watched as Harry knelt in front of Hermione, tilting her chin up to meet his intense gaze.
"I'm fine," she whispered. Liar, Ron thought. He tried to move forward, but found himself glued to his spot watching both Harry and Hermione.
Ron watched as a bitter smile crossed Harry's lips. He knew and Harry knew that Hermione was famous for trying to divert the emotional attention away from herself. It was the way she dealt with these things. It made her Hermione.
Harry finally spoke. "No you're not fine. Ron was an ass… I'm an ass. I'm a big ass."
A slight part of him agreed with Harry's observation on his obnoxious personality quirks, but that was gone quickly. Because it was Harry's fault that they were in this mess. It was Harry's fault that he had snapped at Hermione. Hermione shifted and tucked herself into a neat Indian-style position, taking Harry's hand into her own and unconsciously smoothing circles. Ron knew the look on her face. It was the 'it's never Harry's fault and we should all give him a pity party' look.
"Hey," Ron was startled out of his bitter musings at the sound of Hermione's quiet voice.
"Hey," she murmured softly. "You're not an ass. And I'm serious, I'm fine."
He was silent. She was silent. And all Ron wanted was for them to get to the point of whatever they were trying to accomplish, it anything at all. And then Harry spoke.
"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. "I don't deserve you."
Ron agreed. No you don't, you stupid git. You don't deserve her or *me*. Hermione's response startled him into taking a step back from his place by the door.
"Don't ever say that," she hissed. "Don't ever say that."
Ron watched in perverse glee as Harry ripped his hand away from Hermione's. Maybe she'd finally see that Harry was just a whiny little boy and nothing more.
"Well, it's true!" Harry 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?"
An idiot, Ron replied mentally. Tell him he's a blood idiot, 'mione.
But she said nothing and Harry turned away from her, gripping the tangled sheets of her bed.
"You're better off without me," Harry continued. "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!"
Ron was too shocked to move and was startled with Hermione as Harry slammed one of his hands against a bedpost. In an all too familiar burst of anger, he watched with a sad shake of his head as Harry grabbed Hermione's comforter and threw it on the floor.
"Harry…"
Maybe she'll finally see him for what he is, Ron mused taking a step forward this time and ready to play hero. But he was stopped when Hermione moved towards Harry. But he was completely oblivious and continued ranting.
"I lost Sirius because I was stupid. I almost lost you because I was stupid," he paused. "I should have never let you come to the Department of Mysteries. I should never have-"
Hermione grabbed Harry's arm with a strength that surprised all of them it seemed and yanked him around to face her. She was angry, Ron realized. She was angry and hurt and---
What the hell was going on?
Somewhere in the back of his mind, Ron was slowly beginning to realize that he was about to witness something very significant. He wanted to step forward, in fact he tried to will himself forward, but something was holding him back. This was one of these moments that he wasn't supposed to be a part of.
"Harry, look at me."
Ron's heart began to pound at the tone of Hermione's voice. It was soft and unrelenting, full of fierce intensity, so much so that it scared him. She had never spoken to him like that.
Ever.
"Hermione," Harry began to protest.
"Look at me," she ordered softly.
Ron took a step backwards, further into the darkened corridor. He didn't want to hear this, but at the same time he needed to hear this. He swallowed as Hermione continued.
"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."
Ron almost smiled at her self-assured, bossy tone. She almost sounded normal, he mused wistfully. Maybe there was a chance…
"I made the choice to be your friend because I wanted to," Hermione began again. "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 that Lucius Malfoy and those 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 suddenly grew thick with unspoken words and something else Ron couldn't quite put his finger on. He tried to will someone to say something so that maybe he could come in and they'd laugh and forgive each other and get through this. Something was changing, he finally realize with horror. This was the moment. It was the moment he knew that there would forever be only two, Harry and Hermione and no room for Ron.
It scared him. And it was something he was nowhere near ready to accept.
"Hermione," Harry finally murmured. "Come here."
Vaguely, Ron could hear Hermione crying. No longer could he see two figures through the partly opened door and the dim light. Both Harry and Hermione seemed to blur and suddenly, he could only see one figure. He tried to will himself to turn around, but his feet seemed to be firmly planted where he stood.
He could not escape.
"I need you," Harry mumbled into her hair. "It's silly and it's selfish but I do need you with me… So at the Ministry- I just- I can't--- I won't lose you."
Then he snapped. He couldn't bear to watch anymore. It wouldn't be right. If he stayed, if they… It was killing him. And so his feet took on a path of their own, down the stairs and crunching against the broken glass of the case he broke. Ron fell onto the couch and buried his face into his hands.
Everything swallowed him up.
Finished.
Author's Notes:
Well, everybody that's a wrap. It was a fun challenge, since I tend to have angst oozing from my brain constantly. Thanks Muddgutts for concocting it. It was like free therapy for me. ^_^
I do apologize for the lateness. I had the flu for two weeks and then I had to play catch up for a bit. And let me tell you, playing catch up with eighteen credits in college is not *fun*. Especially when you have a writing teacher who's an idiot… I'm serious. Just last week when she was walking into class, she ran straight into the door. Poor woman hit her head. *smirks*
Anyhow, I feel like I have to explain the last part. Although I can't explain the obsessive need to listen to Nine Inch Nails as write now a-days. Originally I was going to actually end the story in two parts and have a cute little ending. But alas, A-hole Ron didn't work for and thus I had to make him bitter, confused, and severely depressed. And let me tell you, it was like pulling teeth. However, I do like the voyeuristic aspect of it. *shrugs* But that's just a quirk of mine.
Will I do a sequel? Despite the fact that I have gotten some very sweet emails from some people. No way. I have too much to accomplish on my list of fics to do and Ron basically finished the story as it should have finished.
So thanks again, guys. I appreciated all your reviews and encouragement. And please, keep review to your heart's content. I've got no problem with reviews. ^^