A Darkened Doorway
by cheering charm
Chapter 4
Harry rolled off of Hermione as if she was on fire. Hermione sat up, adjusting her camisole to conceal her breasts.
"Ron…" she began and stopped. What could she say? What in the world do you say in a situation like this?
"It's not what you think," Harry said weakly.
I'm quite sure that isn't the right thing to say.
"Oh, it isn't what I think? Tell me, Harry, what am I thinking right now?"
Harry opened his mouth as if to speak, then apparently thought better of it and clamped it shut.
"Ron, let me explain," Hermione began again.
"Explain what? What my best friend is doing fucking my girlfriend?"
"Ron, that isn't…"
"DON'T LIE TO ME! I SAW YOU! I HEARD EVERYTHING!"
Hermione's heart clenched. She closed her eyes to block out the sight of Ron standing before her, her worst fears realized. She was struck by how trite this all was; how she, and Harry too if his comment was any indication, automatically grasped for justification of their actions, using the words of countless literary figures and movie characters that she had always found so unbelievable and idiotic.
Ron threw his bag toward the bed, hitting Harry solidly in the chest. "You bloody bastard! I ought to kill you right now."
He stalked toward the bed menacingly as Hermione cried out, "Ron, NO!" and threw her arm out in front of Harry in a feeble attempt to protect him while Ron yelled, "Accio wand!"
Harry's wand, which had been resting on the nightstand by the bed, flew into Ron's hand. He pointed his wand at Hermione and said, "Where's yours?"
Her arm still in front of Harry, Hermione said, "Ron, you're overreacting. Let's just talk about this for a minute."
"Where is your wand?" Ron growled.
Hermione stared at him, seeing him for the first time. This was not the reaction she was expecting from him. The Ron she knew would have been hurt, but a homicidal rage? She honestly never would have thought he had it in him.
Of course, he did just catch you in bed with his best friend.
What have I done?
"Ron, I'm so sorry…"
"YOUR WAND!" he screamed, his face red with rage.
"In the nightstand drawer," Hermione replied quickly, and the possibility that Ron might actually kill them seeped into her brain.
"Open the drawer, slowly."
Hermione did as instructed, and the wand flew cleanly into Ron's hand. He looked at the wands held in his hand and smiled wickedly. Watching Harry and Hermione, he pointed his wand at theirs and said, "Abrumpere."
With a loud crack accompanied by multicolored sparks, their wands snapped cleanly in two.
"Ron, what in the Hell are you doing?" Harry yelled.
"What am I doing?" Ron asked incredulously. A lopsided grin crossed his features and he said, "The question is, what are we doing?"
"What?" Harry said, his confusion matching Hermione's. Ron's demeanor had changed quite drastically from a homicidal rage to what could only be described as giddy.
"Ron, I don't know what is wrong with you, but if you would just calm down and let us explain…"
The rest of the sentence died in Hermione's throat as two of the last people in the world she would expect walked through the door of her bedroom, wands at the ready. She and Harry barely had time to register shock before Vincent Crabbe and Gregory Goyle uttered the incantation that rendered them unconscious.
**
Hermione felt the groan emit from her throat more than she heard it. With great effort, she lifted her head and opened her eyes. She tried to move her hand and couldn't. She looked down to find her body completely bound to a chair. From her shoulders to her ankles, rope encircled her body, not one inch of her visible.
Through the dim light of the room, she surveyed her unfamiliar surroundings. The room was large, probably 100 x 100 feet, and empty, except for what appeared to be building materials and equipment. Brick columns that supported the high ceiling ran through the room in two rows, roughly twenty feet apart from each other. To her right was a long wall consisting of the same red brick, tall windows spaced evenly down its length. All of the windows, save one, were covered in dark paper. She looked out the one window available and saw, straight across the street, the window over her kitchen sink.
She looked to her left and saw Harry, still unconscious, bound in a chair facing her. They were sitting in the middle of the room, a makeshift worktable to her right, the door that she assumed led to the hallway to her left.
Crabbe and Goyle were nowhere to be seen.
"Good, you're awake," she heard Ron say from behind her. He walked around and knelt in front of her. "How are you feeling? Ropes too tight?" he asked solicitously.
"Ron, what has gotten into you?" Hermione whispered. "Crabbe and Goyle? What are you playing at?"
He stood up and smiled down at her. "All in due time." He looked at his watch and started. "Which we don't have much of. I'd better wake up sleeping beauty here."
He walked over to Harry, reared his fist back and hit him squarely in the jaw.
"RON!"
Harry's head jerked back and lay still, his mouth gaping open, blood oozing from his lower lip. Ron looked at Hermione with a sly smile. "I guess that didn't work, did it? But it sure felt good." He turned back to Harry and slapped him on the face repeatedly. "Wake up, loverboy!" he said, with no response from Harry.
Ron sighed and pulled out his wand.
"NO!" Hermione screamed.
Ron looked at her with distaste. "I'm not going to kill him. At least not until he's awake." With a flick of his wrist, a stream of water squirted out of the end of his wand and onto Harry's face. A few seconds later, Harry shook his head and sputtered, moving his head from side to side in a vain attempt to escape the streaming water.
"Okay, let's get this show on the road, shall we?" Ron said cheerfully, pocketing his wand and walking over to lean against the makeshift table.
"So, Harry, how long have you been fucking Hermione?"
"I'm not…" Harry started. "That isn't what we were doing."
"Really? Hmm, let's see. I walk in to find you sucking on her tits and whispering how much you love her, right before you mount her and tell her you want to make love to her. Call me crazy, but that my friend is, at the very least, a precursor to fucking."
Hermione closed her eyes and inhaled deeply, wanting this nightmare to end. She felt tears brimming behind her eyelids and she closed her eyes tightly to stem their flow. Hearing Ron repeat, in crude detail, what she and Harry were doing when he walked in made it seem vile and dirty. And it made her feel like a whore.
She couldn't believe that it had come to this - that she hadn't the courage to tell Ron what happened with Harry in the doorway, that she had been so naive to think that her feelings for Harry and the problems that came with them would just go away. Her valiant attempt to save Ron grief and heartache and her inability to control her feelings for Harry had made everything much, much worse.
"So? How long?" she heard Ron repeat.
"It isn't what you think. If you would just stop being so crude for a minute, I could explain everything to you," Harry said angrily.
"Okay," Ron said checking his watch. "You have one minute."
Hermione looked at Harry, tears spilling from her eyes. "It started the night she was hurt. We were in this seedy part of London, following Crabbe and Goyle. They ducked into a shop and we lost them for a moment. While we were searching up and down the street, they came out of a shop right next to where we were standing. I grabbed Hermione and pushed her into the doorway, and kissed her to obscure our faces from them. And, well, the kiss progressed into more than we intended."
"You shagged right there, in the street?" Ron said in shock.
"NO!" Harry yelled. "I meant that we felt more for each other after the kiss."
"Go on."
"The night I went back to the hospital to stay with her for you, I told her how I felt and we kissed again. Then, tonight, well…"
He turned his head to Hermione. "When were you going to tell me?"
"The next time I saw you," she replied, looking down at the ground.
"I know how you feel about her," Ron said, craning his head toward Harry. "But, I don't recall hearing Hermione say how she feels about you." Ron was leaning against the table nonchalantly, his arms crossed. "Well? Do you love him?"
Hermione closed her eyes again, wanting nothing more than for this to be a dream that she would wake from, alone in bed, the sun streaming into her room.
"Come on, Hermione. It is a simple question. Yes or no."
She looked up and saw Harry staring at her, clearly as interested in her answer as Ron was. "Yes," she mouthed.
"I'm sorry, your lips moved, but I didn't hear anything." Ron cupped his hand around his ear. "Say again?"
"Yes," Hermione said firmly. Despite their seemingly dire situation, she saw relief wash over Harry and his mouth turn up into a small smile.
"Perfect," Ron said, grinning now from ear to ear.
Harry's relieved expression turned to one of complete puzzlement. "First, you threaten to kill us because we were together. She tells you she loves me and now you are acting like you've been given a free pass at Honeydukes," Harry said angrily. "What is wrong with you?"
A grimace crossed Ron's features and he turned away from them and doubled over slightly. "You know, Potter, I've always admired your timing."
Total confusion swept through Hermione as she and Harry heard a groan escape Ron. She could see his hands gripping the workbench, pulsing, his skin moving up and down his arms as if waves of water were flowing underneath. She heard a sickening smacking and squishing sound as Ron's clothes began to enlarge. He let out a final yell, of triumph or relief, Hermione wasn't sure.
Anger coursed through her body, shunting surprise to the side as she stared into the sneering face of Draco Malfoy.