Chapter 5: The Reality
Harry cleared his throat. "You know," he answered Ron. "Just catching up." He looked across at Hermione, who still had her back to him.
"Okay, well, my turn," said Ron, walking over to sit down next to Harry.
"Okay then, uh, I'll be inside doing, er, something," said Hermione uncomfortably, before rushing into the house without a backward glance.
Ron sighed, rubbing his forehead as he watched her go. "Harry, did she say anything to you about, well, anything?"
"What?" Harry asked, swallowing.
"I mean, was she acting strange, at all?"
"Ron, what are you talking about?"
Ron sighed again. "Harry, I need to talk to you, man to man. About Hermione."
Harry looked at his hands. "Sure Ron, of course."
Ron stood now, and walked to the spot Hermione had previously occupied by the railing. "I think there's something wrong; with her, or with us... or maybe both, I just don't know. I mean, we've been together for almost six years now. We've had our ups and downs, like we used to as friends and like most couples anyway. And, of course, we've had good times too, great times even," he smiled fondly. "But there was always something... I can't even put my finger on it, Harry." Ron thought for a moment. "But it's like there's always been something... something not quite right. Like, it feels as though she's never completely herself with me. Like there's still a part of her that I just can't get to, and it's keeping us apart. I thought that it, whatever it is exactly, would change when I proposed..."
"Is that why you did it?" Harry interrupted, looking startled. "Propose, I mean?"
"What?" Ron asked, confused. "No, no. I love Hermione, you know I do. And I asked her to marry me because I love her. What I mean is that, I thought this... this distance would disappear if she knew, really knew, how much I love her, and that I want to spend the rest of my life with her. I thought she'd be more open, especially with us living together." He sniffed, and ran his finger through his hair. "For a while there, it did work, when I first did it. For a good few weeks, we were closer than we'd ever been. I felt like we were really, truly together, for the first time in our relationship. I mean, you remember what it was like for us before? When we were at school, I kept dancing around my feelings for her, never letting her in the way you did, always keeping her at arms length. I thought I'd wrecked any shot I might've had with her. Hell, I thought I'd wrecked any shot of a true friendship with her! But then, when I got the stones to tell her how I felt, and we got together... I thought the barriers we'd erected between each other all those years earlier would come down." He looked across at Harry. "But they never did."
Harry broke eye contact, and looked at his feet, not knowing what to say and feeling more horrible and uncomfortable than he ever had before.
"I really need your help, Harry. Things with Hermione are back to the way they used to be, maybe even worse. She won't let me in. She hasn't seemed truly happy in the longest time. You know, just last week, I found her sitting out here," Ron said, pointing to the bench Harry was seated on. "She was looking through her old photo album, with pictures of us from school, and she was crying." He put his face in his hands and rubbed. "She was crying, and I have no idea why. I asked her, of course, but she just said it was 'that time of the month', and she was emotional. It wasn't the truth, though, I could tell. To be honest, that's part of the reason I asked you to come over."
Harry looked up, sharply, with a questioning glance.
"It wasn't the only reason, I did want to see you myself." Ron chuckled, misreading Harry's expression. He quickly sobered. "But you and Hermione... well, you've always been so close. Despite, or maybe because of, the not-so-recent change in our relationship, I think she still feels more comfortable talking to you. Look, I'm leaving town in two days. I'm going to visit Charlie in Romania for a week, but I don't want to leave her alone to stew over whatever's wrong. I was wondering, hoping, that maybe you'd stay with her while I'm gone? Take care of her; make sure she's okay, and maybe even... talk to her; see if she'll tell you what's wrong."
Harry, who had been shaking his head, now spoke up. "Ron, I think it's a really bad idea for me to get in the middle of this. You should talk to her yourself..."
"But she won't talk to me!" Ron cried. "Aren't you listening? That's the whole problem!" He paused for a moment to take a deep breath, and continued more calmly. "Look, even if you don't want to talk to her about this, I still want you to stay here with her. If she's left alone, I'm worried that she'll have too much time alone to think. That she'll start thinking things that I really don't want her to think. I'm worried that she'll decide to..." Ron breathed deeply, gripping the balcony railing tightly. He looked at Harry, his eyes glistening slightly. "Please. Please, Harry, I'm asking you to do this as my friend, and hers."
Harry sighed, and walked to the other side of the porch. He glanced into the window, and saw Hermione sitting down on the staircase, her head in her hands. Harry looked away. "All right, Ron," he whispered, defeated. "I think this is a really bad idea but, all right, I'll do it."
Ron let out a huge breath he'd been holding, and smiled. "Thanks, Harry. You're got no idea how much this means to me. You're the best friend a guy could ask for."
Harry, who felt suddenly and violently nauseous, issued a shaky breath. "Look, when are you leaving, Ron?"
"First thing Tuesday morning."
"Okay," Harry said, starting quickly towards the porch steps, desperate to leave. "Tell Hermione I'll be hereafter work."
"What?" Ron looked confused. "You're not going now, are you? We haven't even had desert?"
"I'm not hungry, Ron, I've started feeling a bit ill. And I need to get up early tomorrow." He began making his way down the stairs, holding tightly to the rails, feeling as if he were about to faint.
"Aren't you gonna say goodbye to Hermione?" Ron asked, as Harry had reached the path.
Harry looked back at him, and the house he shared with Hermione. He could see her standing in front of a top floor window, looking down at him. He forced his eyes back to Ron. "If I don't speak to you before you leave, I hope you have a good trip. See you soon."
And with that, Harry began walking as quickly as he could, away from 7 Trafford Lane.