Unofficial Portkey Archive

Boys Don't Cry

Disclaimer: I don't own Harry Potter, or any of the characters except Matthew… oh, and of course, the plot. The plot was all created in my tiny, but rather useful cranium.

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THIS PART IS TWO CHAPTERS. SO AS SOON AS YOU FINISH THIS CHAPTER, GO ON TO THE NEXT ONE.

IT WAS ORIGINALLY 34 PAGES, BUT PORTKEY HAD TROUBLE UPLOADING SUCH A BIG FILE, SO I SPLIT IT IN HALF. I MUST TELL YOU THAT THE NEXT CHAPTER WILL ALSO PROBABLY BE TWO CHAPTERS-I HAVE STARTED ON IT ALREADY, AND IT'S ALREADY 31 PAGES. NOT NEARLY QUIET DONE, EITHER. Sorry for the wait!!

I appreciate all the reviews! Thank you very much!

I'm going to tell you that once this story is over, the end, you'll understand why Hermione was a dimwit. I don't know whether what situations I will uncover it, or the cause, but one of you, I'm quite positive, has gotten it. Well, most of it, anyway. But don't get too ahead in this fic. There are still a lot of untold events that I will soon reveal, and while I have the whole thing inside my head, I might decide to take the things in a vast twist. So…well, we'll just see, eh?

But don't worry. Happy ending-I'm not going to go back on my word about that. Because, I don't know about you, but horrible endings ruin my day.

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Home

Outside, the sun's rays were a soft yellow, peeking out from the snow-covered hills. The grounds were still deep from the constant snowfall, but they were clean and pure-they were not dirty or soiled. The air was crisp and fresh, cold and chilly, but one could only admire the simple but beautiful day.

Inside the house were scattered and hurried footsteps, hugs and wishes for luck, smiles that were genuine, despite the recent happenings.

Harry smiled sadly, as he felt Molly Weasley's arms embrace him. He pulled back, and saw that her blue eyes were twinkling, her lips curved into a smile.

"I wish you the best, Harry," she simply said, and Harry nodded, still smiling, knowing what she meant and that she needn't say anymore.

He watched, looking around, as people offered handshakes and hugs. He could see Hermione across the room, smiling and embracing the other members.

He felt his eyes dim, his heart slowly falling, watching her.

He hadn't had the chance to speak with her. Her training session with Remus hadn't ended until after dinner, and even then she always found some way to slip from his grasp. He had gone down to dinner, though he had no appetite, in hopes of asking her for a word afterwards.

He was met with disappointment when, though it was expected, she would not even glance at him at the table. And afterwards, though he was sure he had been keeping a close eye on her, she had managed to escape. Once he had turned around, she was no longer there.

It was just like in his dreams that haunted him at night. One minute she was there, and the next she was gone, as if she had just vanished into thin air.

He couldn't help but feel as if he had just let her go, once again.

He felt someone grab his hand, as he smiled and shook hands with another member. But as he let go, he sighed, looking around in the room, once again, before lowering his eyes and turning away. He walked to the kitchen, the noise getting quieter to his ears as he got farther and farther away. He entered the cozy kitchen; the long, wooden table, the scuffed hardwood floor, the comfortable chairs, the windows that let you peek into the outside world, but didn't allow them to see in. He took a seat, facing the windows, letting out a quiet sigh that was even indistinct to his own ears.

He closed his eyes for a moment, slouching his shoulders, his heart feeling heavy and overshadowed by such doubt and hopelessness that he had acquired the past few days. He bowed his head, feeling his fingers entwine in his untamed hair. The skin on his fingers and palms were cold, as they collided with the warmth of his scalp.

Hogwarts. He was going home.

He did not know what to expect, besides celebration and happiness. He looked forward to returning, to meeting up with Ron once again, and walking through the echoing halls and corridors of his school. He had missed Hogwarts.

But though his return to the school was anticipated, and he was quite excited, he couldn't help but feel a sort of overwhelming sadness wash over him.

He was to leave Hogwarts this year. He was to leave everything, behind. He had planned to leave with Hermione…wed, and live together. He had had everything planned out inside his mind. Everything.

But he hadn't seen the twist in the road that turned it all upside down.

He didn't want to leave, to start his life. His life had already started. It had already begun. He did not want to leave without anything at all but a broken heart and broken promises. He did not want to feel as if he had left his heart behind also. He did not want to feel anything at all.

He didn't want to see her turning away, walking away. He didn't want to know that he had just lost everything that he had ever hoped for. He did not want anymore unspoken goodbyes.

He didn't want to see her leave.

No, not anymore.

"Harry?" He opened his eyes, as he raised his head from his hands. He looked up at the figure standing yards away from him, with weary eyes. He smiled.

"Hi, Remus," he said quietly. Remus nodded, a dark look in his eyes, as he walked over to him and sat down. Harry's eyes trailed him, before he spoke through the awkward silence that had engulfed the room.

"Listen, Remus…I'm sorry. Those words, what I said…it wasn't…you didn't deserve it. You didn't deserve it at all. I'm sorry. For everything. You're right. I shouldn't have tried to attack that man…I just…I wasn't thinking clearly." Harry chuckled quietly to himself, staring at his hands, "I guess I haven't been thinking clearly at all for the past few days."

Remus smiled. It was not a wide smile, but it was a smile that let Harry know that he wasn't mad at him at all.

"I understand, Harry. I shouldn't have…gone off on you either. I didn't really stop to think what everything that's been happening is doing to you…I wasn't--I didn't see it from your shoes. I couldn't. I'm sorry. I shouldn't have yelled at you like that." Harry smiled faintly, staring at his fingers and palms.

"It's alright, Remus," he said quietly. Remus sighed.

"It must feel odd, going back. Dumbledore owled us, last night, with his instructions to get you to Hogwarts. I think that ball…it's going to be utterly fantastic and magnificent, I must say. I think you're going to have a good time, Harry." When Harry did not say a word, Remus continued. "Just don't think about what's happened," he said. "Just have a good time. You deserve it, Harry. Give yourself a break."

Harry smiled crookedly. "Thanks, Remus. I'll try." Remus smiled, leaning back on his chair.

"That's a good lad, Harry," he paused, as if trying to read him. "And, you know…about you and Hermione… I have a good feeling things will work out just fine. I really do. You two love each other so much, I can see it… Nothing can break that, Harry. Not even some fight, or a battle with Voldemort, or keeping her away for her own sake. She loves you more than you think. She's a smart girl; too smart for her own good, sometimes, but Harry… Everything will be just fine. Just at least try to believe me when I say that." Harry stared down at his pale and unbruised hands, trying to keep himself from shaking his head and telling Remus that he couldn't believe that anymore.

Not when everything had gone like this.

Not when he couldn't find even one little glimmer of hope left.

He knew well enough that Remus would never spark false hope inside him, but he pleaded to Remus, inside his mind, to understand what he was asking of him. Harry was just so tired, so weary of trying… He wanted to give up. He wanted just to throw his hands up and just sulk in his misery.

He no longer had any hope left.

He had tried; believing in the happy ending that he tried to convince himself would come for him. He told himself that everything would be just fine, if he just kept trying and didn't give up. He had believed that there was hope for him, still.

Until last night.

He had had a dream about her again. Hermione. Why was it that she could invade his thoughts and his dreams as easily as she had invaded his heart? How was it that he still loved her though he tried to move on?

Why was it that his heart was still in pieces and was not yet beginning to mend?

She had been standing there, with him. Smiling, laughing, and at that image flashing inside once again, it was enough to rip his heart apart. She had been in his arms, smiling up at him, her hands curled on the nape of his neck.

And then he noticed that she was crying.

And she was trying to pull away from him, as he was trying to keep her with him. She was pulling away from his embrace, until he was merely just holding onto her from her hand. He could still remember her pained eyes, her pink lips that quivered. And her words that chimed and broke everything inside of him.

"I can't love you, Harry… Please just let me go… Please… Just let me go."

And then he remembered. Her hand had just slipped through his grasp, and she was gone. As if she had just vanished, as if she had just been a mirage or a prank of his longing thoughts.

She was gone.

She had left him all alone, once again.

He sighed, confusion swimming inside his mind, as he tried to focus back on Remus. He chose to not remark about Remus's comment, as he just looked up at him and smiled.

"I'm going to miss you, Remus." Remus broke into a big grin, as he enveloped Harry into a big and tight hug. Harry let him, closing his eyes.

Finally, they let go just as Molly Weasley had walked inside the kitchen. She smiled widely at the two of them, her sapphire eyes dancing at the scene she had just witnessed.

"Remus," she acknowledged. "I'm sorry to interrupt, but it's time for Harry to go." Remus nodded, clapping Harry on the back, before Molly walked out of the kitchen. He smiled down at him, a pure, genuine and happy smile.

"Take care of yourself, kid," he said to him.

"I will, Remus," Harry grinned faintly. "Don't worry about me. I'll be just fine."

And Harry stood and walked out of the kitchen, Remus trailing behind him. With one big, final goodbye, he and Hermione left.

ooooooooooooooo

They had to make a stop in Diagon Alley, such as an antique bookstore that had just opened, judging from their sign. Dumbledore had created quite a unique and strange way for them to Hogwarts, consisting of the backroom of the bookstore, apparating to another odd store in Hogsmeade, and then a final apparation in another stuffy backroom of that store, to Hogwarts.

Molly Weasley had explained that Professor Dumbledore, for they knew that Hogwarts was protected with powerful spells and enchantments that no wizard or witch could apparate through, had set up some places from which they could apparate from.

Each place would get them closer to Hogwarts, every room enchanted with a spell to let them through, and then finally, the last special room in which they had to apparate from to reach Hogwarts. Dumbledore had clarified that he had put up some very complex and fairly difficult spells in that one specific room, like a loophole, connecting it to Hogwarts and then making a barrier so that once they had passed through, it would close and no one else could get through. Harry thought it was quite brilliant, room after room, and realized that Dumbledore had always managed to surprise him with his tactics and matchless plans.

Harry tried to ignore, with all he could muster of his strength and will power, the uptight and tense silence between him and the brunette girl beside him. None of them spoke for their whole transition and apparation, though Harry felt like he was about to burst from it all. He wanted to speak to her, for all these days, he would lay awake and dream up ways to get her to speak to him again. He just wanted everything to go back to the way they were, if the possibility of them being together as more than friends was beyond his reach. But as he looked at Hermione before their final apparation to Hogwarts, bags under her closed eyes, her pale and delicate face, he found his voice non-existent. He could not utter a word, and as he, too, closed his eyes and sighed softly, he found that it would probably better this way.

He knew that if he talked to her, she would reply with a short answer-one that didn't require much thought or energy.

He knew that if he talked to her, she would not look at him.

He knew that if he talked to her and she did look at him, he would feel that same wave of hurt and longing wash over him again.

He knew that if he talked to her, and she replied, hearing her voice would break his heart.

So, instead, he just shut his eyes and they apparated.

And when he opened them back up again, he found himself standing in front of Albus Dumbledore and the rest of the Hogwarts staff, beaming at him with twinkling eyes that he was sure, could blind anyone if they had walked by.

He watched as Minerva McGonagall clapped her hands together, smiling so happily at the both of them, as Dumbledore chuckled heartedly. He glanced at Hermione beside him, and his heart jumped at the look in her eyes.

Her deep brown eyes were sparkling, looking straight ahead, the corner of her lips stretched into a smile. That was enough to make him smile, too.

"Mr. Potter, Ms. Granger," Dumbledore acknowledged. "It is, utmost, a true pleasure to have you two back. I cannot say how much my heart is grateful to the both of you, and the joy we have inquired and observed around here, at Hogwarts. Your fellow peers are thrilled, if I may say so, myself." Madam Pomfrey beamed at the both of them, as Professor Flitwick gave out a joyful laugh.

"Welcome back," they greeted the two of them, and they both nodded their heads, grateful for the welcoming group and warm greeting.

Harry found himself shaking hands with his Professors, as they congratulated and thanked him, as Hermione herself was dragged away from her place beside him. He heard as they also shook her hand, their comments on her absence in their lessons.

"I've missed you in my class, Ms. Granger," he heard Professor Flitwick say. "You were one of the most brilliant, though, I'm sure you've known long before." He heard Hermione's soft and graceful laugh that always managed to fill his ears so intoxicatingly, as he felt his insides suddenly turn into a dizzy mist.

He hadn't heard her laugh in what seemed like, ages.

He smiled faintly as he shook hands with Professor Sprout, and the new Potions teacher they had employed a few months back, but did not come until recently, when they had been away. She was a petite woman, with choppy black hair and a wide smile.

"Guinevere Psyche," she said, shaking his hand. "Pleasure to meet you. You're brilliant," she said, and Harry chuckled weakly. He also shook hands with the DADA professor: a stout man with blue eyes and sandy hair, by the name of Kamron DeVelroa. But as he looked around at the familiar staircases and walls, the enchanted and tall ceilings… He had a feeling that he had missed someone.

Suddenly, it hit him. Hagrid.

"I don't mean to be rude by asking," Harry said, "but where's-" a loud chuckle and someone suddenly lifting him up into a bone-crushing hug, interrupted him. He heard soft laughter around him, as he recognized who it was.

" 'Arry!" Hagrid cried happily. "You're back! I can't believe it! I'm so bloody proud of ya!" Harry smiled, wincing slightly as Hagrid hugged him tighter.

"Hagrid," he said, in pain.

"Hagrid… I think Mr. Potter has had quite a lot of hugs-"

"Oh, right," Hagrid said, embarrassed, as he put him down gently. Harry grinned at him, happy to see his big friend. "Dreadfully sorry, `arry," he said, still smiling.

"I'm okay, Hagrid," Harry said. Hagrid nodded, jolly, before his eyes flickered to behind him.

" `Ermione!" he exclaimed, picking her up for a hug, also, but gentler this time, from his recent reminder. He set her back down, and she was smiling wide at him.

"I'm so glad to see you, Hagrid," she said.

"Ya can't be gladder than me, that's for sure," Hagrid laughed.

oooooooooooooooooooooooooo

Dumbldore had explained that the ball would take place on the night of tomorrow, and that the preparations were still in assembly-the bubbling excitement had delayed quite a few things, he had said, with a wink. But he said that it would be a magnificent one, none like Hogwarts had before, with all the years attending and far more stunning decorations and reasons to celebrate.

He had said that their luggage and belongings had already been brought up, and that they could head up to their dormitories. Harry smiled, his eyes dancing, excitement in seeing his dear friends once again. He could see that Hermione felt the same way, too, as they quickly walked to the Gryffindor dormitories.

"It's so great to be back," she whispered, smiling. Harry nodded, also grinning madly.

"It is. I can't wait to see Ron!" he sighed. Hermione chuckled softly, and he could hear it echo like a haunting and sweet lullaby in his ears. But as they entered a dark corridor, with torches lit against the wall, glancing quickly at her, her expression changed. Her smile had faded rapidly, and her eyes were dark with a speck of fear, as she looked at the walls and ahead. He looked down at her hands and noticed that she was gripping her cloak tightly, her knuckles turning white.

"Hermione," he whispered, concerned. "Are you alright?" There was silence, as she didn't answer him, and instead gave a look that puzzled him.

He had never seen her this way before.

Her deep brown eyes were fearful, though she tried to suppress it. Her face was pale, her hands wringing on her robe. He didn't understand what suddenly made her so... scared.

And that's when it flashed in his mind. Voldemort. Visions. Hermione. This was his chance. He looked at her, before opening his mouth to ask, but suddenly they were out of the corridor and they were ascending the stairs. The portraits gasped and ahh-ed at him, as they started to speak. Harry closed his mouth, disappointedly.

"There's Harry Potter!" he heard one of them exclaim in joy. "Oh Merlin! He's defeated him, I've heard!"

"Atta boy, lad!" a man swung his hands in the air for him.

"What a brave boy," a girl said. "It's great to see you again, Mr. Potter!"

"I always knew he had it in him!"

"Impressive, Harry! Very impressive!"

After about hundreds of comments and remarks about him as they passed, they finally reached the Fat Lady's portrait. She smiled at him, widely.

"Password?"

Harry looked at her, confusion written all over his face.

He hadn't asked for the password.

"Bloody hell," he sighed, running a hand through his midnight hair. "I can't believe-"

"Salum Marinus," he heard Hermione say beside him. He looked at her, giving her a questioning look, as the portrait door swung open.

"Dumbledore told me," she said quietly, before she walked in, and Harry followed behind.

Harry smiled widely, as he heard cheers and loud applause, before he was suddenly rushed at. He could barely see exactly who they were, for they ran to him so quickly, but he heard their voices and their cheers, and he told himself that it really was good to be back.

He felt them pat his head, slap his arm, as Ron, Dean, and Seamus tackled him.

"Harry! Harry! Harry!" he heard them chant, as it rang through the room.

Finally, when he had gotten to his feet, he had a clear view of their faces.

They were beaming at him, proud and joyful. He had never seen a sight such as this before. Suddenly, he saw him.

He was smiling at him so widely, with his red hair and his blue eyes twinkling.

"Welcome back, mate!" he said, as Harry rushed at him and enveloped him into a hug.

"Ron!" he exclaimed, embracing his friend. He heard Ron laugh, as he held him tightly. Finally, they pulled back, as the rest of the Gryffindors shook his hand and congratulated him.

They had food and butterbeer set up in the middle of the common room. Stocks and piles of Honeydukes' sweets were assembled in a mountain that was dangerously lop-sided. Harry's grin widened, as Ron dragged him over to the table, insisting for him to eat as much as he can.

"It's still a while before dinner," Ron told him. Harry took a glass of butterbeer.

"Didn't you just have lunch? It's just-" Ron waved him off.

"Doesn't matter," he said. "This," he pointed to the wide and chockfull varieties of food and sweets, "is the best food, I bet, you've had in weeks. Eat up, Harry," he patted him on the back. "I will pester you and beat you to bloody pulp if you don't." Harry grinned.

He went around, talking to the rest of the Gryffindors; Dean, Seamus and Neville. They were all so happy, asking about the battle and what else had happened.

"I heard," Seamus said, as he gave him a wink, "that there were sparks between you and a certain Gryffindor bookworm." Dean and Neville rolled their eyes, as they tried to drag him away from Harry. Harry stiffened at his question. "So? Was there?" he yelled, from across the room where they had hauled him off to. Harry flashed him a fake smile, before turning away, not feeling up to facing the rumors and reports about his love life.

He felt someone grab his arm, and found Ron at his side again, armfuls of sweets and a butterbeer in one hand.

"George and Fred say hello," he said, as they walked towards the couches. "They told me to tell you that they expect you to be stopping by soon-good for publicity and sales, you know, The Hero stopping by and being seen at their shop," Ron grinned.

"Oh, and you know, congratulations." Harry took a sip of his butterbeer, smiling.

"Alright then," Harry laughed. "Tell them thanks." Ron nodded, stuffing another sweet in his mouth. He looked around the room, people talking and laughing in their Gryffindor robes and uniforms. He smiled, before looking down at his butterbeer.

He watched the cool liquid swirl in the mug, as he slowly rocked his wrist gently.

"Ron…" he said quietly. "You aren't… angry, with me, are you?" He looked up at him, as his ginger-haired friend looked at him and sighed, putting down his sweets, food, and butterbeer.

"Harry…" He raised his gaze to the room, and people. "We best go into the boy's dormitories if we're going to talk about this." Harry nodded, picking up his butterbeer, and Ron picking up his as well.

They walked out of the common room, up the stairs, and into the dormitories.

Ron shut the door, as Harry sat down silently on his bed. His trunk and things had been brought up, as he spotted Hedwig napping in her cage. He felt Ron sit beside him, and let out a sigh.

"Harry, mate… You're my best friend. Nothing can ever change that. But well, when you left, and you took Hermione, and not me… I felt like, I wasn't wanted. That you needed Hermione more than you needed me, and I was bitter. I was angry."

"You have to understand, Ron," Harry said quietly. "She followed me out. She wouldn't let me go. I…"

"I get it, Harry," Ron said firmly, and that caused Harry to look up at his friend. Ron sighed again, standing up and running a hand through his hair.

"I get it. One night, I was thinking all about it… I felt like shouting, beating something. You left us. You left me. You took Hermione with you. No contact, no nothing. I was too angry to try to understand anything else. I was worried sick about you, mate. I didn't know… I didn't know if you were going to…die." Harry nodded guiltily, lowering his gaze to his feet.

"I'm sorry, Ron. I really am," Harry said. There were a few moments of silence, as Harry wondered what his friend could be thinking. Was he really still angry with him? What was going to happen?

But then he felt a heavy weight set down beside him.

"But Harry… Those days you were gone, you and Hermione… It made me think. It made me see. I replayed everything in my head, those times all three of us were together… And then I remembered that picture." Harry looked up, confused and slightly fearful. He was confused as to where this was going. Ron was smiling at him.

"You left your trunk open one day, and I saw it. You and Hermione. Together," he chuckled softly. "When I first saw it, I thought nothing of it. I dismissed it. I was… rather daft, really, to what was staring me right in the face. I didn't see it. But then, thinking about you and Hermione… I finally realized it. It all added up. All those times, when I would catch you looking at her, and you were always the one to notice if there was anything wrong with her, you always tried to go with her every time she went to the Library… You were… You were in love with her."

"Ron, I-" Harry started, but Ron cut him off, putting a hand to his face.

"Harry, my feelings for our little bookworm are far gone, believe me when I tell you that," he laughed. Harry looked at him, relaxing a bit, as he felt strangely relieved. Ron continued, " But then I remembered Hermione. How I also caught her looking at you more than I would've cared to notice. How she would always worry about you and ask me about you. How she would always be the first one… to see, everything. She told me, you know. She told me that she knew that you were going to leave. I didn't believe her at first, and I got angry with her because she insisted… I yelled at her," Ron said, solemnly. "I didn't want to believe her. I didn't want to know that she was right.

" But she was. She was right, in the end. And when you walked out that door, Harry… she went after you. She ran after you. She wasn't willing to let you go. And I… I just stood there, like an idiot-I didn't run after you, I didn't try to stop you. And I was furious at myself, because I should have." And suddenly, Ron looked up at him and smiled. It was not a big smile, or a very joyful one, but it was an honest one.

"And then it hit me. She loves you, Harry. As in more than a friend, as in more than best friends should. I was amazed at how clueless I had been, all this time, all the hints and the times I caught her looking at you… It's perfect," he said, not a drip of sarcasm or hate in his voice. His blue eyes were twinkling, grinning at Harry.

"My two best friends. In love with each other. Really, Harry. I'm not angry with you. Not anymore. You wanted to say goodbye to her. I understand. You didn't want to leave her behind." Harry sighed, closing his eyes.

He was right. He had guessed, and he was right. But everything he said wasn't correct. No, it wasn't. He could feel the memories come rushing back, the pain and the hurt. The way her tears had soaked into his shirt and stuck to his skin. How he had tried to kiss them all away.

"I didn't," Harry whispered, his throat severing. "I didn't say goodbye to her, Ron. I left her behind." Silence engulfed them, before Ron spoke, just above a whisper.

"What?" he asked, confused. Harry leaned his face into his hands.

"I didn't say goodbye. I didn't tell her that I loved her when I left. She told me that she loved me… and I couldn't bear to, Ron. I couldn't tell her that I loved her too. I knew that I wasn't going to be able to let go, to leave and fight. So I just left. Without a word. I left," he paused, but Ron just stayed silent, looking at his weary-looking friend.

"And when I returned… You should've seen her, Ron. The window in her room was blacked out and barricaded, and your mum told me that she hadn't been sleeping, or eating… I hurt her. I hurt her so much that she couldn't bear to see the sunlight pouring into her room, or looking outside, knowing that I was out there. I hurt her so much that she…" Harry faltered in mid-sentence, shutting his eyes more tightly, his throat closing up. He swallowed hard and tried to keep going. "She didn't want to be with me. She doesn't want to be with me. I tried; I tried to talk to her, to ask her why, to make her understand… But she can't."

"Mate," Ron said quietly. "Hermione… she's… rather difficult, at times-"

"No, Ron," Harry cut him off. "I… I think-"

Just then, the door burst open. Harry's head bolted up from the sudden noise, as Ron's gaze also darted to the disturbance. Seamus and Neville were standing in the doorway, butterbeers in hand, grinning madly.

"Harry! Ron!" they said. "What in Merlin's name are you both doing up here? There's party, downstairs, --"

"In your honor, Harry," Neville added.

"-And you both should not be here, talking, or whatever it is you're doing! Ron! Dean just turned Pavarti's hair putrid pink! Oh you need to-" Both of the boys burst into a fit of laughter. Ron smiled, as he sighed.

"Alright, alright, you two," Ron said, standing up. "And lay off those butterbeers, won't you? We don't want Dumbledore or any of the Professors spotting you two drunks and giving us trouble, alright?"

"Right!" they both shouted, before running off. Ron turned to Harry, and flashed him a sympathetic grin.

"I'm sorry, about those two," he said. "It seems like Neville and Seamus have turned into my brothers-" he grimaced, "--which is nothing short of a shock when it comes to Neville… But, well, what can you do? People change. I guess Neville's just loosened up." Harry nodded, also getting to his feet. Ron sighed, looking at his midnight-haired friend. The Hero. The broken-hearted Hero.

His best friend.

"Harry," he said seriously, "I'm sorry. About you and Hermione. I really am. But I think it'll all work out. Hermione's a smart witch and I'm sure she still loves you. She doesn't just give her heart away so recklessly, you know." Harry stayed silent, staring down at his feet, and then running a hand through his hair.

He didn't have the heart to tell Ron that he was so sick and tired of hearing that. That everything was going to be just fine, that he and Hermione were going to work things out. How, he wanted to know. He just wanted to know how.

He wasn't sure if he could believe such a thing anymore.

"We should get downstairs before someone worse comes in to look for us," Harry sighed, walking towards the door. Ron chuckled.

"I highly doubt there's another Gryffindor worse than those two when they're drunk," he laughed faintly.

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